Author Topic: [F + Macro + Destruction + Mature] The Beginning of Hurricane Emma  (Read 1306 times)

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Offline Zracken3

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   Hello everybody! So, I know I didn't respond to any of the wonderful replies on my last post, but I am grateful for them just the same. I especially appreciate all of the people asking for a part 2; I think the best compliment to anyone's work is to ask for more  ;D

   That said, this is another story I had cooking for a while. It isn't the "part 2" everyone was asking about, and I'm not personally as enamored with this one, but I hope it will suffice. I threw the "Mature" tag on as Emma is technically nude for most of the story, but not much attention is drawn to it specifically i.e. the story wouldn't really change if she wasn't. As always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.

   And for those who don't care to read so much (admittedly all of us sometimes) nothing in the way of actual sneezing happens after the release, so feel free to skip it if you wish.

   So, without further ado...


   Emma awoke to the bright morning sun piercing the cracks of the old barn and the harsh July heat blanketing her body. Her amber eyes slowly peeked open, blinking twice to rid themselves of any remnants of sleep. Stretching herself across the barn from corner to corner diagonally (she had gotten too big to stretch in any other direction), her jaws parted in a yawn so wide that a regular-sized furry could have stood up inside of them.

   Recovering from the yawn, Emma retracted her limbs and pushed herself up to sit on her cushioned backside.  The action sent a couple of sheep scampering out through the two loosely-hinged barn doors on the north side of the building. Without noticing the animals, Emma snorted out through her large, draconic nostrils, blowing a puff of dust from the loft floor out through one of the windows in the process.

   “More and more dirt is being carried in everyday,” Emma thought.

   This was true. Currently, the area was in a drought, and on the farm no rain meant no crops, and no crops meant loose soil that easily blew in the winds of the valley. Emma had lived on Martin the old ram’s farm for 13 years, and this summer had brought by far the worst drought she could recall. Martin, being several decades older than Emma, agreed. Fortunately for Martin, he had adopted a young, 10-foot great dragon many years back, who was now a 45-foot beautiful behemoth capable of carrying tons of water from miles away back to the irrigation ditches in the fields.

   “That's probably going to be today's chore again,” Emma assumed. “Well, no use in burning anymore daylight.”

   Emma scratched the center of her back with her sharp claws. She moved once more to rest on her knees and positioned her upper body in front of the exit. With that, she pushed the barn doors open and began to crawl out to face the daily grind.

   That is, until she got stuck. With a jerk, Emma’s progress was suddenly halted, and she felt a hugging pressure around her hips.

   “Aw, what the...come on!” complained Emma.

   While they were more than sufficient when she first arrived, the barn doors found it harder each year to accommodate the titanic dragoness. Normally, this was not an issue; all Emma had to do was crawl out flat on her stomach, and years of this practice had slowly eroded a rut in the earth beneath the doors that continued to expand as she did.

   However, the drought meant that this hole was slowly filling in with dust blowing off of the fields, making it a tighter and tighter fit. Today, Emma was able to pull her head and arms through easily. Her hefty breasts, though a significant obstacle, were able to squash and squeeze their way past eventually. The problem was when she tried to pull her gargantuan, scaly rear through the doors. Being much firmer than her chest, her butt had refused to adjust itself to the exitway, and she was now wedged halfway-in and halfway-out of the old barn.

   Sighing, Emma tried pushing herself back inside, but found that her mountainous mammaries were much less willing to cooperate in this direction. She was caught between a couple of soft boulders and a round place.

   “Oh, why?” she asked, staring disapprovingly at her burdensome assets. “What am I gonna do now? Martin’s gonna have to help me out of this one. Martin!”

   Emma called for the old ram, her voice booming, easily heard no matter where he was on the farm. To her relief, the old ram opened the back door of the farmhouse, having apparently been taking a break from the fields.  He wore a pair of blue, denim overalls overtop of a ragged, white shirt. His eyes were sunken with age, but still showed that spark of life that kept him the busy farmer he was.

   He was greeted by the sight of a large, well-endowed, and attractive green dragoness laying in his barn doorway with nothing but the scales on her chest to cover her. To anyone else, this might have seemed like a dream, but Martin had raised Emma and had come to see her as his own daughter. The difficulty of clothing such a giant woman meant that he was never surprised at any lack of clothes on her part. Chuckling to himself, Martin began his slow walk over to the barn, his gait somewhat stiff with age.

   “Well, well, what've we got ‘ere?” he asked sarcastically.

   Emma smiled as he approached. She had expected this kind of response. Martin had a joking nature, which Emma learned to enjoy. It made it a lot easier to talk to him.

   “Well, the dust storms finally filled in the hole under the door, I guess. I tried to get out and got stuck,” she said frankly.

   “Maybe it's got somethin’ to do with all that dairy you've been eatin’,” Martin joked, patting his stomach with both hands to get his point across.

   Emma laughed. If anyone else had suggested that she was overweight (which, granted, she was not), she probably would have sat on them. Not that it would prove them wrong, but at least they wouldd get their comeuppance.

   Martin carried on past the girl’s exposed torso to peek inside one of the ground floor windows. There, he saw Emma's other half: tail coiled around a couple of wooden support posts, long legs stretched out with clawed feet pointing soles-up, and the huge, fleshy plug of Emma's ass in the doorframe.

   “Looks like yer in there pretty good, sweetheart!” he shouted back to the front of the barn.

   “What're we gonna do about it?” Emma inquired.

   Martin replied, “Well, I'm gonna go git m’shovel, and we'll see if I can't reopen that hole there so you can pull yerself out again.”

   “Do want me to help?” Emma asked.

   “Naw, you just sit there and look pretty. I'll be done in a jiffy.”

   Having said that, Martin walked over to his tool shed, retrieved his trusty, rusty dirt shovel, and came back over in front of Emma. He looked up at her.

   “Now don't go moving much or you'll just shake dirt back into the hole, got it?” Martin explained.

   “Will do,” Emma returned.

   Martin positioned himself on the outside of the barn door - within Emma's vast shadow - and started to work. He broke the first bit of dirt easily as was to be expected given its dryness. After depositing the first shovelful behind himself, he went back for another, and the process continued for several minutes. When he felt he had removed enough, he transitioned to the other side of the door, walking back in front of Emma and flashing her a thumbs up to let her know that the job was coming along smoothly.

   Too smoothly.

   Before he even broke ground on the other side, the sunlight curiously started to dim. Pausing, Martin scanned the mountain ridge carefully. He went silent, eyes squinting to view what might be blocking his daylight. Emma, noticing his sudden change in activity, directed her attention towards the same landscape. Almost simultaneously, both found what they were looking for, and it made their stomachs drop.

   A massive wall of dirt maybe a half-mile high was hauling itself over the mountains from the neighboring valley, like a thunderstorm hugging the Earth. Even now, they could hear whispers of the fierce winds driving the monster forward. The dust storms had been bad before, but this one looked to rival a biblical plague with the havoc it wrought, and it would be upon Emma and Martin within minutes!

   Martin wasted no time. He immediately plunged the shovel into the ground and dug with a fury he never had before. Emma was awestruck at the scale of the storm coming over the horizon, but quickly pulled herself back to reality.

   “Martin, hurry!” she pleaded. “That disaster’s gonna be here really soon!”

   Emma was doing her best to remain calm; she knew that panicking would only make it harder for the old ram, and possibly harm him or the barn. After all, she had been told to hold still.

   “I'm tryin’ my damndest!” Martin hollered, all the while shoveling like a madman.

   The sky became darker as dust began to fill the air around the farm - a prelude to the main storm. The wind picked up, tossing the airborne material to and fro. Emma watched as the black particles swirled around the property, visibility dropping quickly. Soon, the dust was thick enough to be felt, as it buffeted Emma's bare skin, and the winds had changed from a whisper to a roaring howl.

   Beyond obstructing vision and battering skin, the dust was also a dangerous irritant. Martin continued to pant heavily as he shoveled, but already he was taking quick breaks to cough violently, clearing his lungs of the terrible black dirt.

   “Euhugh! Hehugh!” Martin's cough was deep and expedited as he struggled to keep working  in spite of the approaching storm.

   Emma, however, was dealing with a very different feeling. Being so much larger than Martin, the dust was not nearly as difficult for her lungs to cope with. What was struggling to cope was her big, defenseless nose. As the dust continued to dance wildly through the air, some of it found its way inside of Emma’s ticklish nostrils. Her nose twitched in response. While she could not be sure at this point, she suspected that a sneeze might be in her near future.

   “*sniiiiiiiffffff*…” Emma drew in a large breath through her snout, soothing her itchy nose for the time being, “Martin, are you done yet?”

   Martin did not even look at Emma to reply, continuing to dig at a hectic pace.

   “Almost there! Ehugh-hugh! Almost…”

   “Ugh…*sniff*,” Emma wriggled the end of her muzzle as the tickle returned to her nostrils. “*sniff* Ok, Im gonna start *sniff* pushing...ugh.”

      With a claw, Emma scratched the end of her nose quickly, and then planted both hands in the ground, pushing backwards towards the barn. Martin had just finished digging. He dropped his shovel and hurried over to Emma to help her squeeze back through. When he got back in front of her, he ran to her left arm, and pushed into it with all the strength in his legs.

   “Atta girl, Emma! Keep pushing!” Martin encouraged through gritted teeth.

   Emma did as she was told, but, suddenly, she felt a tremble run up her snout. It lasted for half of a second, but once it was done, Emma could once again feel the dusty tickle inside of her nose - only this time it was deeper and much, much stronger. Regrettably, while all of her sniffling had brought momentary relief, it had only pulled the dust in her nose - as well as some extra from the air - deeper into her nasal cavities.

   “Gahah...huh…” she gasped.

   For a moment, she stopped pushing and rubbed a hand over the bridge of her muzzle. Martin, who noticed Emma had stopped pushing and felt the gasp shake her body, looked up to see what was the matter. He pushed through the wind and dust until he stood in front of her face.

   “Emma, c’mon! We gotta git inside that barn before the real storm hits!” he shouted over the wind.

   Emma heard his request, but was too preoccupied with the now certain-to-be sneeze coalescing inside of her.

   “Muh-huh...Martin. This d-dust is *sniff*...” she raked a clawed finger across the tip of her nose, “’s getting in”

   Martin understood what she was saying (though not necessarily what it meant), but he had to keep her focused on the task at hand.

   “Easy, Emma. The blasted dust gits to all of us. Just hold back and keep pushin’!” he called.

   Emma tried her best, but no sooner had she taken her finger away from her nose to push then the tickle punished her for disregarding it. Out of nowhere, the feeling exploded from noticeably annoying to barely containable - a burning fire throughout the inside of her muzzle. Sneezy tears built up in the corners of her eyes. Her lips curled back slightly as her face contracted inward. Emma immediately quit pushing again and stopped completely still, afraid that any movement would make the tickle worse. Frozen like an emerald statue of some dragon goddess, nothing moved except for the dust in the wind. Martin looked up at Emma's blank expression, unsure of what was happening. Her teary eyes were glazed over and staring at an undetermined point off in the distance.

   Then, Martin watched as the sneeze began in earnest. All at once, Emma's nostrils flared wider than a couple of tires, her watery eyes snapped shut, her gaping mouth fell open, and she drew in the biggest breath of air Martin had ever seen.


   Martin was taken aback. He actually felt the wind change direction from battering him in the face to pulling him towards Emma.

   “Huh-Huuuuuuh...HUUUUUUUUUH!!” Emma continued to hitch mightily, sucking in copious amounts of air along with more dust - dust that only added to the torturous feeling in her sinuses.

   It was a terribly effective positive feedback loop.

   Now, the winds coming towards Martin had disappeared, completely replaced with Emma's gusty inhalations. He watched dumbfounded as her chest heaved in and out to accommodate the impossible amounts of atmosphere she was taking in. Martin, being as old as he was, was familiar with the sneezes of macros. They were loud and could do damage to property yes, but Martin felt that whatever was brewing inside of Emma right now was beyond his own imagining; to call it a sneeze would be a severe understatement. With this new realization, he shifted priority away from the storm and towards Emma's desperate battle against her own building urge.

   “Emma, sweetheart! Call me stupid, but I don't think you really ought to do what’cher doin’, y’hear?” he cried.

   Emma could barely focus on what he was saying to her; she was so overwhelmed by the need to sneeze. Puzzled by Martin’s request, she nonetheless rammed her right index finger under her two trembling nose holes. Her still watering eyes just barely peeked open to gaze at the ram.

   “HUUUH...Martin! Wuh-whyYY...Huuuh...why cAN'T I snuh-snEEEEE...SNEEZE?!” Emma asked, her speech shaky and interspersed with more hitching.

   Martin answered, “Sweetheart, I've seen sneezes in my time, but yer looking to put them all to shame!”

   Emma was confused. She had sneezed before, though, admittedly, never on the farm. But, Emma had never seen anyone but herself and Martin sneeze. She had no idea that even the biggest macros could not hold a candle to her own violent eruptions.

   Unfortunately, the sneeze was done being denied at this point, and it exploded like a powder keg inside of Emma’s muzzle. Her eyes squeezed shut again, and, though the finger remained, it was like asking a single Band-Aid to hold back a bursting dam.


   “I can't help!” Martin called wildly. “If you let loose with me anywhere near that honker, I’ll end up in the next county over!”


   Martin was now forcibly being dragged towards Emma despite his best efforts to remain in place.

   “Daggumit!” he thought. “I gotta git somewhere safe before I become a dragon booger!”

   “HAAAAAAAA….HUUUUH-HAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” Emma, though disappointed that she could not obey Martin’s wishes, began relinquishing control of herself to the sneeze.

   Looking around, Martin saw that everything and everywhere seemed to be in danger of the big, bad dragoness. Everywhere, save for one place.

   “Forgive me, sweetheart, but yer old man wants to live to see his grandkids,” Martin uttered to himself.

   And with that, Martin ran head-down and straight forward, past Emma's arms, past her contorted pre-sneeze face, and straight in between her two gargantuan tits.

   “WUUUUUUUH?...HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHH!!” Emma could only be surprised by the sudden jiggle in her jugs for a second before she was brought back to the business of the sneeze.


    Meanwhile, Martin struggled to turn himself around. He was now squashed between two mountains of flesh that only grew bigger and tighter together as the leviathan they belonged to huffed and puffed. Eventually, with a bit of pushing and twisting during the short breaks in Emma’s hitching, he was able to orient himself facing the world outside his daughter’s bust.

   As he surveyed the chaos, Martin was sure he was seeing things. The dust storm that used to be a few minutes away was now nearly on top of them! It was as if Emma's enormous hitches had actually pulled the storm towards them as well. He could not have been more right.

   “What in tarnation, girl?” he wondered.


   The storm - and Emma's sneeze - was almost here.


   The full height of the dust cloud rose before them.


   Martin looked up at the desperate expression on Emma's face and wondered whether he had raised a dragoness or a force of nature.


   Martin's fears were validated as Emma’s sneeze tore out of her with the power of a weather event. Martin watched from between her cleavage as Emma came face-to-face with the dust storm - and literally sneezed it apart! Dust scattered in every possible direction and away from the farm as Emma blasted it with the full capacity of her enormous lungs. Never in all of his years did Martin think he would live to see a young woman bend the weather to her will (or, at least, to the will of her nostrils).

   “...OOOOOOooooo!” Emma's magnificent sneeze ended, and she collapsed on the ground, panting. “*gasp* *gasp* Oh, goodness. Bless me *sniff*”

   Emma rubbed a finger under her nose again just to make sure that she was finished. Lifting her head back up,  she gazed down at the old ram wedged in her boobs and blushed.

   “Uh, Martin? You can come out now.”

   “What, uh, oh! Jeez, that's right!” Martin was still in shock over what he had just witnessed, and scrambled as fast as he could to relocate out of his adopted daughter’s cleavage.

   He positioned himself a good ten paces past Emma's face. Once he got back in front of Emma, he could not contain his disbelief.

   “Boy howdy! Girl, you call that sneezing?”

   Emma still didn't understand.

   “What do you mean? Isn't it just like yours, but bigger...because I'm bigger?” Emma queried.

   “Sweetheart, if someone as big as you were to tell me they needed a sneeze, well, I'd be worried about the chickens, not the whole dang farm!” Martin shouted.

   This came as a shock to the dragoness.

   “Are you saying that I'm… not normal?” Emma asked.

   Seeing the worry in her eyes, Martin quickly explained himself.

   “Sweetheart, you've never been very normal. Why, just look at’cha! But that ain't no bad thing. What you've got there's a gift.”

   Emma was confused again.

   “I-it is?” she asked.

   Martin nodded.

   “Emma, what you just did here saved our farm. Now, I know there's tons of folk out there ain't gonna be so lucky, not unless you make ‘em lucky.”

   Now, Emma understood. She was in a position to help people that needed it, and what kind of a person would she be if she didn't?

   “Okay, Martin. I understand what I have to do.”

   Martin felt pride well up inside of his chest.

   “That's my girl,” he said. “Always did have a kind heart.”

   “And a big sneeze, apparently,” Emma added. As if to emphasize her point, she scrubbed her finger along her nostrils again.

   “Haha, yessiree! You're a right ol’ hurricane, Emma!” Martin chortled.

   Emma's face reddened in embarrassment. She had always liked her sneezes. The feeling she got as she built one up always sent shivers down her spine. While raised to be a gentle soul, Emma was still a dragon, and dragons do love power. This manifested itself in her as an affinity for her powerful sneezes. Still, to hear someone else compare her bodily function to a natural disaster was a bit overwhelming.

   “Now, go on and git dressed,” Martin ordered.

   “But I'm…” Emma began.

   She planned on protesting on account of her immobility before realizing she no longer felt stuck.

    Looking behind herself, Emma saw the old barn now laying as a pile of splinters around her backside. She must have sneezed it to bits without even noticing. This was despite the fact that it wasn't even in front of her. Her eyes darted to the farmhouse to make sure it was alright. While it was still standing, Emma could see that it didn't escape unscathed. Every shingle was torn clean off the roof, and not a single window survived her humongous release.  She looked back at Martin, exasperated.

   “Old thing wasnt gonna last much longer anyway,” Martin said of the barn. “But remember, sweetheart, that nose of yours will get you into heaps of trouble if yer not careful.”

   Emma looked back at the ruins of the barn once more before nodding softly. She started getting up, the remains of the barn clattering and cracking as she shifted her weight. She stood up to her full height, brushing off of herself tons of dust and debris. Then, she knelt down to pick up her woolen toga and put it on over her shoulder, finally having something to cover her immodesty. She looked back to Martin, who looked up at her with glistening eyes.

   “Well, sweetpea...this is goodbye I ‘spose. Give yer old man one more kiss before you go off into that big, scary world by yerself,” Martin requested.

   Smiling despite the tears forming in her eyes, Emma got on her knees and leaned forward, planting a big kiss on the top of Martin’s head.

   Suddenly, a panicked look came over her face.

   “*sniff* Uh oh, Martin. I think I feel another sneeze coming on...HUUUUUH…HUUUUUHHH!!” Emma hitched.

   “Daggummit girl, not on me, not on me! Sneeze that way!” Martin called frantically.

   Lowering her head once more, Emma saw Martin huddled down with his hands over his head, and she smiled.

   “I got you good, didn't I, old man?” she chuckled.

   “Aw, now that ain't fair,” Martin said as he recomposed himself. “Alright then, I ‘spose it's time you git.”

   Emma stood back up, and her and Martin waved goodbye to each other. Then, she looked back towards the mountain ridge that the storm had come from and noticed many more dark clouds in the sky of the next valley over. She turned and walked away from Martin, away from the farm, and towards a new, uncertain future.


   And there you have it.
« Last Edit: August 23, 2018, 04:10:11 AM by Zracken3 »

Offline megacycle

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Re: The Beginning of Hurricane Emma [F + Macro + Destruction + Mature]
« Reply #1 on: August 20, 2018, 09:56:43 AM »
Good story, I really like it.

I hope we get to see more of this character.
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Offline CC007

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Re: The Beginning of Hurricane Emma [F + Macro + Destruction + Mature]
« Reply #2 on: August 20, 2018, 11:52:04 AM »
I love the entire scenario of the story, the descriptions of the dust storm and the building tickle in Emma's nose. You did a really good job and that was a great sneeze fic!

And additionally, the old ram's accent was funny XD
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Offline AMTW03

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Re: The Beginning of Hurricane Emma [F + Macro + Destruction + Mature]
« Reply #3 on: August 20, 2018, 09:24:25 PM »
Wow this was great!!  Big destructive sneezes are always my favorites.  It's quite a nice twist seeing a macro's sneeze be helpful to people. :)  I'd be interested to hear of Emma's new adventures.  Hope you decide to continue this!