Chapter 5: The Line Forms at Dawn
The salt flat had no name, because no map cared to remember it. It stretched under a sky the color of bleached bone, the cracked white earth cracking further under the first sting of dawn. The air was dry enough to pull moisture from the tongue, thin enough to make the horizon wobble and dance.
They came before the sun was fully up. From every direction, in every conceivable shape and shade, they came. Futa from the northern passes with skin pale as the salt and cocks already half-hard in the cool air. Futa from the southern coasts with oiled muscle and cocks like mooring posts. Young ones with tight asses and nervous eyes, old ones with graying fur on their thighs and balls that hung low and heavy. They filed into position along the line that had been marked the night before, a shallow groove scratched into the salt that ran straight for as far as the eye could see, then curved away into the haze.
Taliah stood at the head of it, and her heart was a drum in her chest.
Beside her, Fredia had gone very still. Her henna-tattooed arms hung loose at her sides, and her black-and-gray curls moved faintly in the dry breeze. She did not look at the hundreds of futanari behind them. She looked at Taliah.
"You're trembling," Fredia said, low and husky.
"I'm not," Taliah said, and she was, but she wasn't about to admit it. She flexed her hands, felt the old ache in her knuckles, the familiar weight of her own cock hanging between her thighs, thick and getting thicker by the moment. "I'm just excited. There's a difference."
Fredia laughed, a deep, rolling sound that cut through the dry air. "There's a difference, all right. You're shaking like a filly at her first fence."
Taliah turned to face her. The sun was up now, a hard white coin that threw long shadows across the salt. She could see Azul in the middle distance, lean and copper-skinned, her shaved head gleaming, her silver earrings catching the light. Azul raised a hand in a lazy salute. Behind her, the nine women of her troupe stood in a knot, already slick, already pressing against one another like beasts in a pen.
And beyond them, the line. Hundreds of them. Taliah had counted last night, walking the full length of it with Fredia by her side, and the number had made her dizzy. Four hundred and thirty-seven futanari, not including themselves, not including Azul's troupe, not including Petra and her two rangers. The largest daisy chain ever attempted. The largest daisy chain that had ever been attempted, and if it worked, the largest that ever would be.
"Two hundred years of recorded history," Taliah had said last night, standing at the end of the line with her hands on her hips. "The record is one hundred and twelve. We're going to blow it out of the water."
"Blow is the word," Fredia had said, and she had grinned with all her teeth.
Now, standing at the head of it, Taliah felt something strange and electric move through her gut. It wasn't fear. She had been on the wrong end of a gangbang more times than she could count, had her ass stuffed and her cunt filled and her mouth flooded with cum and piss, and she had always walked away smiling. But this was different. This was not about being used. This was about becoming part of something so large that it had a life of its own, a serpent of flesh that would coil around the globe.
She looked down the line. She could see Petra near the back, silver hair cropped close, scarred arms crossed over her chest, watching the proceedings with the calm, appraising eye of a woman who had seen everything and approved of most of it. Beside Petra, her two rangers stood close together, the farmhand with her broad shoulders and dark thatch of pubic hair, the sprinter with her runner's body and nervous eyes.
And she could see Lira and Solenne, her daughters, standing in the middle of the line with matching grins, their cocks already jutting heavy from between their thighs. Lira caught her eye and winked. Solenne made a crude gesture with her fist.
Taliah laughed out loud, and the sound echoed across the salt.
"Line up," Azul called out, her voice carrying. "Erect unless you can't, and if you can't, get someone to suck you hard. No soft cocks in my chain."
A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. Taliah turned and bent over.
Her hands went to the salt, braced, the grit biting into her palms. She felt the heat of the morning on her back, the weight of her own balls swinging between her thighs, and behind her, the shuffle of feet as the first futa in line stepped up.
It was Azul. Of course it was Azul.
"Ready, old woman?" Azul said, and there was a cruelty in her voice that was also a kind of pleasure, the same tone she had used in her tent three weeks ago, when she had made Taliah and Fredia kneel and take all nine of her troupe.
"Ready," Taliah said. "Make it count."
Azul's cock pressed against Taliah's entrance. It was thick and hard as a fist, and Taliah felt the head nudge against her hole, felt the slick pressure of it, and then Azul pushed.
The first inch went in with a stretch that made Taliah gasp. She clenched, then forced herself to relax, to open, to take it. Azul pushed deeper, and Taliah felt the heat of the cock slide into her guts, filling her up the way she loved, the way she had been craving for six long days. She groaned, low and animal, and pushed back against it.
"Fuck, that's good," she said, her voice muffled by the salt.
Azul gripped her hips with both hands. "That's the idea." She thrust, hard, and Taliah's teeth rattled. "And it's only just begun."
The shiver ran down the chain like a wave. The futa behind Azul stepped up, slid her cock into Azul's ass, and Azul's hips bucked forward. And the futa behind her did the same to her, and the futa behind her, and the ripple went out and out, a snake of flesh waking along the entire length of the line, each body taking the one before it, each mouth opening to moan, each hole stretching to accommodate.
Fredia had stepped around to face them. She knelt in the salt in front of Taliah, her face level with Taliah's own, her eyes bright. She reached out and took Taliah's cock in her hands, stroked it once, and wrapped her lips around the head.
Taliah's whole body shuddered. Azul was hammering into her ass from behind, and Fredia was swallowing her cock in front, and the heat of the chain was rippling through her from both directions, and for a moment she thought she might come then and there, just from the sheer overwhelming fact of it.
But she held. She always held.
"Not yet," she managed, and Fredia pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at her.
"Plenty of time," Fredia said. "We're just getting started."
And down the line, the first deep groan of the chain rose into the dry bright air, and the serpent of flesh began to coil.
The sun climbed higher, and the salt flat burned white beneath it. Hours passed like water through fingers. The chain moved, a slow, rolling rhythm that never quite stopped, each futa thrusting into the one before her, each hole taking and giving in endless rotation. Taliah lost count of how many times she came. Fredia's mouth was a constant, wet suction on her cock, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of her, swallowing each one with a satisfied hum. And behind her, the chain pushed on, a relentless tide of cocks and cunts and assholes, slick with cum and sweat and the salt that gritted between their skins.
Petra came by mid-morning, striding along the line with her scarred arms swinging, stopping to check on her rangers. The farmhand had a futa's cock buried in her ass and another in her mouth, and she was moaning around it like a prayer. The sprinter had her legs wrapped around the waist of the futa before her, her head thrown back, her cunt gaping and wet. Petra nodded once, approving, and moved on.
Lira and Solenne found their mothers near the center of the line, deep in the thick of it. Lira knelt in the salt and took Taliah's cock in her mouth, her emerald eyes glinting up at her mother's face with a mix of love and mischief. Solenne bent Fredia over her own forearm and drove into her cunt from behind, slow and deep, while the chain pushed against her from the other side.
"You two," Taliah gasped, her hands fisting in Lira's short hair. "You two are gonna kill me."
"Not today," Lira said, pulling off with a grin. "Today you live forever."
By the time the sun hung directly overhead, the rhythm had changed. The initial frenzy had burned off, replaced by something deeper, more methodical. The chain moved like a single organism now, each thrust synchronized, each moan a note in a chord that rolled across the salt. And the end of the line, the far end that curved away into the shimmering haze, was finally in sight.
Taliah gripped Fredia's shoulder. "It's time."
Fredia looked at her, sweat gleaming on her caramel skin, her gray-streaked curls plastered to her forehead. She had cum so many times she was trembling, but her eyes were bright, and there was a smile on her face that Taliah had loved for thirty years.
"Time to close it," Fredia said.
They walked the length of the chain together, hand in hand, stepping over sprawled bodies and tangled limbs, past futanari who reached out to touch them as they passed, grazes on ankles and thighs that felt like blessings. The line stretched on and on, past futa Taliah knew and futa she had never seen, past bodies of every shape and color and age, all of them linked in the long, wet chain of flesh.
At the very end of the line stood the last futa. She was young, barely out of her teens, with sun-bronzed skin and a cock that jutted straight out from between her thighs, leaking steadily onto the salt. Her ass was bare and shining, already slick with the cum of the futa behind her, but there was no one behind her. No one to fill her. She was the end of the line, and she had been waiting.
Fredia stepped up behind her and laid a hand on her hip. The young futa turned, her eyes wide, her mouth open.
"Ma'am?"
"Your name?" Fredia asked.
"Kiri."
"Kiri," Fredia said, and her voice was soft, almost tender. "You're going to be the last hole in the largest daisy chain ever made. Do you understand what that means?"
Kiri shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again.
Fredia laughed, deep and husky. "It means you get to feel me come inside you, and then you get to feel my wife come inside me, and the chain closes, and the world changes." She stroked Kiri's cheek. "Bend over, sweetheart."
Kiri bent over the salt. Her ass was round and smooth, the cheeks parted by the spread of her own thighs, her hole pink and wet and ready. Fredia stepped up behind her, her own cock thick and heavy, and she positioned herself with the care of a painter at a canvas.
Taliah positioned herself behind Fredia. She could feel the heat of Fredia's body, the familiar curve of her ass, the way she trembled with anticipation. She wrapped an arm around Fredia's waist, pressed her chest against Fredia's back, and whispered into her ear.
"You ready, old woman?"
"Ready," Fredia said. "Make it count."
Fredia pushed into Kiri's ass. The young futa gasped, clenched, then moaned as Fredia sank deep, her hips pressing against Kiri's round cheeks, her balls slapping against Kiri's thighs. She held there for a moment, feeling the tight heat of her, then she looked back over her shoulder at Taliah.
"Now," she breathed. "Close it."
Taliah pushed her cock against Fredia's entrance. The head nudged, pressed, and then slid in with a slick, wet give that made them both groan. Taliah felt the heat of Fredia's guts close around her, felt the pulse of Fredia's blood against her cock, and she pushed deeper, inch by inch, until her balls rested against Fredia's thighs.
The chain was closed. Four hundred and thirty-seven futanari, linked from asshole to mouth to asshole, one continuous serpent of flesh that coiled across the salt flat and bent back on itself in a great, living circle.
For a moment, everything was still. The only sound was breathing, hundreds of mouths open, hundreds of lungs working, and the distant shimmer of heat on the horizon.
Then Taliah pulled back, and Fredia pulled back, and Kiri's hole gaped empty for a heartbeat before they thrust forward again, and the ripple ran down the chain like a struck chord, and the largest daisy chain in the history of the world began to move.