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Whitewash	By : salarta Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy II - V Views: 3487 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IV or any Final Fantasy properties, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Whitewash
- 1
Lounging in the royal bath used to be so relaxing. Claw-footed, the Red Wing red and gold accented basin bore Baron's crest - dual griffons surrounding a sword-crown combo shield - with as much polish as the castle's maids could muster. Even the room itself nestled her in a lap of luxury. Tall, wide, spacious, its place near an open balcony allowed songbirds to come and soothe ears aching from a day's work while gentle breezes rustled hanging drapes. Its features ensured only the best for a king and queen who led Baron's people.
Never would its designers have imagined a way to twist its comforts into torments. One person did: a certain green-haired summoner, smirking as she sat on a long edge of the bath and watched its lone occupant stew within.
"How is it? Hot enough for you?"
Rosa burbled under the surface. Tiny bubbles popped as she briefly paused to catch her breath. Try as she might, her arms, her legs, her head, her whole body refused to move. She could only wallow in the tub, as her new brand of bathwater stung her nose with its musk. Her serene eyes made her look the part of a woman who savored a nice soak. The rapid rise and fall of her pale tit islands in a sea of white appeared to show her unbridled need for where she found herself. To the lay person, to the doting maids and dutiful soldiers milling through under false orders, Rosa loved her placid pool of pungence. All who looked upon her saw a woman consumed by a lust for depraved excess - except the sole person who buried Rosa's true feelings within this nightmare facade.
"Mmm. You're right. The loads from these last few men have been a little too diluted for your refined tastes, haven't they?" Rydia asked with mocking affection.
Again, Rosa gurgled out another denial to an audience who took it as their nympho queen's glowing praise.
"Now Rosa, there's no need to settle for less than the best. You're their queen, after all. You deserve every ounce they have to give." Turning her gaze to the attending maids and latest batch of troops, Rydia gave their next marching orders. "Please, go into town and round up all the men while I speak with our queen. I have a few details to confirm with her before we carry out the next phase of her plans for today."
"As you wish," the head maid curtsied.
Watching the procession leave, Rydia couldn't help but wonder what else she might convince these poor people to believe. Perhaps a nice frothy mug of chocobo seed for their darling queen each morning? Or a nice new wardrobe of pasties, thongs, butt plugs and vibrators for the most delicate of diplomatic affairs? None of them ever seemed to question her commands, and certainly had no problem leaving their fair lady to the ministrations of a sorceress all too eager to make the white mage look her worst.
A white mage newly at her whitest.
Absolutely smothered in cum, Rosa Farrell winced through another steaming helping of its scent. The feel of seed swimming through her spread open loins made her shiver. With so many men, so many loads, so many hours spent lying on her back and letting them add to the sinful soup, she knew precisely what outcome to expect from the whole affair. She dared not think of that awful moment when her beloved Cecil returned from his journey across the Blue Planet to find her with a massive swell in her womb. She dared not imagine how much she would stutter to tell him how any and every man inside the castle could be the father. No, she wouldn't think about that horrible idea of a welcome home present Rydia concocted for him.
She would focus on today. This moment. She could handle the problems of now and save the problems of tomorrow for tomorrow. At least, that's what she told herself, as a phantom baby bulge weighed on her guilty conscience.
Her eyes darted around as she waited for the sound of her salvation. Click. The door closed. Her cue. Freedom came to her lank limbs as Rydia's spell lifted, and she didn't waste a second. Gasping, she emerged to a sloppy oozing of spunk down her chest and shoulders, while still more of it spilled out the sides. The manly muck dribbled off her puffy pink nipples, first in a long gooey stream, then a steady leaky faucet drip drip drip. Only the very top of her breasts got out of the bath unscathed, for reasons the queen discovered when she sat up and looked down: they were huge.
The breasts she remembered were modest, delicate yet supple, befitting of a noble. This pair dwarfed her head. Each. Each boob bore more heft than one of Cid's bombs - and had the odd roundness to match. Once released from the murky depths, they spread out enough to surpass the limits of her sides. Their crude rude size sat on her chest as the sort of absurd monstrosity one might see in a traveling circus or when visiting Troia's very special whorehouses - definitely not in Baron's throne room. Such a crass obscenity to the eyes had no place among the cultured in Baron's kingdom.
Overwhelmed to silence, Rosa gawked in disbelief at their humongous sight.
Rydia seized the chance. "Surprise! I gave you a nice boob job to go with your makeover."
"Makeover?" Rosa asked, then nearly shouted. "Makeover?! What would make you think I want to be changed and treated this way? What happened to you?"
"Oh sure, start with the obvious and boring questions." Rydia faked a pout. "It's never 'Hey Rydia, how did you know I deserve to be covered in splooge?' or 'Hey Rydia, do you have any other brilliant ideas to show my people how much of a skank I am?' It's always about how chaste and devoted you can be to your friends and Cecil."
"Rydia," Rosa repeated, "What happened?"
The summoner rolled her eyes. Clearly, the queen and all her collected wisdom didn't amount to much. "If you must know, I went to Mount Ordeals. We thought the summit had a purity challenge cause Cecil became a paladin. It held his darkness. When I completed the challenge, it brought out the worst in me - and since you were the one who always told me to strive for greatness, I thought I should come back and reward you for making me what I am."
"This isn't you!" Rosa preached.
"This isn't you, this isn't you," Rydia mocked. "It may not be me, but the woman I see in this bath tub is definitely you, and I'm going to make sure it's what everyone in Baron remembers of your reign."
To make a stronger point, Rydia dipped her whole arm into the squalid mess and groped The Queen's pussy. Watching Rosa's angelic face contort with shock, then lust, then self-disgust? Divine. Satisfied with the reaction, she wiped her hand on what few strands of Rosa's hair remained untainted.
"You should be thanking me for being considerate enough to use your men. I could have summoned Titan, Ifrit and Odin and let you drown in what they're packing. I took it slow. Besides, don't you want your men to feel rewarded for their years of service?"
As Rydia teased, Rosa drifted off. Her view shifted to the balcony. To soft rolling clouds. To chirping playful birds. To real freedom. If she could get past Rydia, she could stumble outdoors and slip down the wall. She could wander those verdant fields with only a wet sheen of spunk for protection, not unlike her sweaty journey across the desert to reach Cecil in Kaipo. Sure, she might meet adventurers in the wild who sneered at the sight and smell of her, but she would at least be free.
That hope cratered when Rydia snapped green-polished fingers in her face.
"Hello? Blue Planet to Rosa? I know you're an airhead, but you can't be this ditzy. Even you have your limits."
Shaken from her more pleasant reveries, Rosa answered, "I'm not stupid, and what you're making these men do to me is no reward. They deserve commendations, promotions, raises. What they don't need is to go home to their wives knowing the queen might be carrying their child. None of Baron's soldiers would help you humiliate me if they knew the truth."
"It's only humiliation if you don't enjoy it, and Rosa, dear, you're too much of a slut not to enjoy it... at least, that's what they think."
No matter what Rosa said, no matter how true her words rang out, Rydia had some kind of dismissive retort. Some kind of wounding insult. Some new way to turn it back on the white mage with a fresh layer of condescension that almost made Rosa regret the effort.
Almost. Like Kain and Cecil before her, Rydia surely had some crack in the darkness. Rosa just had to find it.
At least drawing out this sordid exchange had a perk: Stop was wearing off. With every second, the spell's power drained into the swamp of sex serving as her bath. A few more minutes from now, she might... she might...
"Sleep."
Just like that, she lost all her strength and splashed right back down into the muck. Her eyes fluttered in her struggle to stay awake, to resist Rydia's magic. Her hands traced along the bath's edges weakly for something to grip. Flexing against porcelain did nothing. Squirming her legs and slipping her feet against the bottom did nothing. Her head bowed, gentle nose hovering over the scummy surface and once more forcing her to partake in its stench. She had no power anymore. Her lips kissed the depths as she fought to watch and hear Rydia through her tired haze.
"I know what you're thinking, Rosa. Mind if I say it for you?" Rydia pretended to ask, slipping into her own perverse imitation of Rosa's voice. "'Thank you so much for helping me get my beauty sleep during the trip into town. I can't wait to see the looks on everyone's faces when I wake up. Rydia, you're the best friend a whore like me could have.'"
If she had the strength, Rosa would have sat up and said something. Anything. Instead, she burbled a last few vain attempts and passed out.
- 1
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Whitewash