Yrba's Travels Pt. 03

Paul Gerard (a pen name)

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Part 3 of a 12-part tale, laced heavily with lesbian encounters and strange transformations.

This part's proofreading kindly supplied by Kanodin

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A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

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Altaerna — a world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

The time of this story is similar to the 12th century of planet Earth.

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What happened so far:

Part 1 — Jailbreak:

Jailed in neighboring cells, two very different women are waiting for their execution: Yrba, the traveling gypsy witch, and Mirca, the servant girl. In a last desperate bid for freedom, Yrba feeds Mirca a whole gallon of enhancement potion and uses her swelling body to break down their cell's walls. And thanks to Yrba's prowess with magic, Mirca becomes mobile again. While they sneak through the nightly town, Mirca gets even with the man whose wrongful accusations sent her to death row by wrecking his warehouse with her rapidly growing breasts.

Part 2 — Under Soiled Doves' Wings:

The witch and her new companion can't make it out of town. Lucky for them, Red, an old friend of the witch, runs the town's brothel, and they manage to hide there from the guards searching the houses. An unexpected growth spurt in the confined hideaway ends with Mirca getting stuck and Yrba out cold. Over the course of the next days, they recover, get acquainted with the girls, Mirca gets into a quarrel with Berry, Red's mistrusting bouncer, and becomes the focus of eastern beauty Li's fantasies. A dinner and a surprise confession lead to another eruption of Mirca's unstable body.

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Part 3: Tubs, Sponges & Soaking

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"Like an angel you came

Every night when I scream ... "

— The Rasmus, Night After Night

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Chapter 11: All Milk And No Honey In The Tub

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The bath was almost the size of the anteroom. In the middle of it sat a huge tub more than three yards across. The water steamed in air that hadn't quite warmed up yet. Several smaller tubs for one person (or an amorous couple) stood in a circle. The warm water came from a boiler that also heated the room. A water wheel in the backyard pumped it up before it rained down from pipes mounted to the ceiling.

"We've got quite an ingenious blacksmith and he loves warm water," Red had explained the first time that Yrba had marveled at the unusual contraption, a few years ago. And then Red had added with the broadest smirk, "and his special mallet does, too. Comes here for a reg'lar scrubbing once a month. I take care of his plumbing, he takes care of mine. I paid zip for all of that."

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Mirca backed into the corner and tried to fend off the many hands pulling at her clothes. "No! No! I helped you filling in the water and with the stove, but you leave me alone now! Yrba! Yrbaaaa! Help me! They're crazy!"

Yrba had walked in on the sight of a giggling pack of women circling her blonde who stood out by a full head's height. Now the dark-skinned witch just stood there, naked, suppressing a grin, with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yrba, they want to see me naked! Again!" wailed her timid six-foot-six giantess, pressing the tatters of her clothes with one hand over her chest and the other over her crotch.

Yrba sighed, pinched the root of her nose with one hand and raised the other while she shook and lowered her head. "All right. Girls. GIRLS! Hold it!"

Their chatter died down as Yrba let her gaze wander over the naked figures. Slim-and-busty brunette Jean and stocky buxom raven Sylvia, both in their late twenties, had been part of Red's bathing house and brothel from the start. Yrba knew them well, both with and without their clothes on, since she had earned some of her earlier stays by doing a little (or a lot, in Jean's case) magical tweaking and padding. She had met the other women only hours ago, and this was the first time she saw them without their already revealing business attire.

Her eyes rested for a few moments on the ivory-skinned, diminutive, boyish body of raven-haired Li. The woman from the eastern lands avoided Yrba's gaze and lowered her head nervously. She was a head smaller than the witch, and where Yrba had been blessed with an ample bosom, Li sported only two impressive nipples on her lithe frame. Despite being the witch's age (and much to Yrba's chagrin), Li's lovely face with the almond-shaped eyes revealed not a single wrinkle. At just above four feet, she appeared almost dwarfish against the two tallest women of the bunch that stood behind her.

Thanks to Yrba's potion, her protege Mirca's towering, hulking shape had been 'expanded' to sport a pair of taut and almost inhuman-sized breasts. Berry-Ann, an aging warrior woman of the Northland who only recently had joined Red's roster, looked like a slightly smaller, slightly less muscle-packed mountain by comparison. Without her leather vest and trousers, just about every square inch of Berry's skin showed the same mesh of scars and blemishes as her arms. They were a sharp warning that the cold-eyed bouncer knew more than her fair share about fighting, and she had lived to show, too. Yrba estimated her at somewhere in the mid-fourties, an age not reached by many of her trade.

Berry's rough looks only heightened the sensuous appeal of the young woman by her side. Charlene, tall and unfairly blessed by nature with the flawless body of a buxom yet slender oriental princess and the befitting pride and aloofness to boot, completed the group of Red's "girls". So far, their united zeal had failed to show any results against Mirca's stubborn refusal to get naked and step into the huge bathtub. Now the mixed bunch eyed expectantly the well-rounded witch.

"Yes, that's better. Hold it for just a moment."

Yrba pushed through the ring of besiegers, put her arm around Mirca's waist and patted her on the shoulder with her other hand. "Darling, there's nothing wrong with being naked, m'kay? We were all born that way. Now they'll bathe you, and I'll be around and make sure they don't harm you. It's nice and warm and all, in the water. It'll help you get comfortable with your new body." She smiled up to her. Mirca relaxed, returned the smile and let go of her top to scratch her head. Her voluminous breasts sagged down and rebounded ever so resiliently. The wobbling motion of the proudly standing, elongated udders drew a collective sigh from the other girls.

"Oh you're so smart!" Mirca giggled. "I never thought about it that way. So if it's normal, it surely can't be naughty? At the castle, they always told me I mustn't do naughty things. Uh, except Suzy. I think what she wanted me to do was very naughty after all. Well, maybe I could try and—"

And then Yrba dug her fingernails into the remains of Mirca's frail clothing, which by now was barely more than just a loincloth anyway, and pulled hard. It ripped right off her body and turned to shreds, and the blonde stood stark naked, frozen in surprise. The witch threw the tatters aside and nodded to Red's girls.

"Now she's all yours."

"Yrbaaaaa—!"

--

Mirca still cast uneasy glances around, but she no longer struggled against the other girls. She stood in the middle of the huge vat with the water barely reaching the golden curls of her groin and let the others scrub her down with sponges and soft brushes. Her nose wrinkled.

"Uh, what's that weird smell?"

Yrba laughed as she climbed into one of the smaller tubs.

"It's called soap, girl."

"That's soap? Whoa. It's more like, like flowers and honey, somewhat. We've only got the other kind at the palace, y'know, and it smells worse than being dirty. Now this smell here, I could get used to that."

"I sure hope so, dear." The witch descended into the warm water and shuddered with delight as her breasts became submerged, rose from her chest and their weight disappeared with the onset of buoyancy. Her fingers danced over the bristles of the collection of brushes by the vat until she found one that pleased her. She bent forward and began to scrub her feet.

"My, look at them! Even our little Princess Attitude seems to take a liking to your big puppy," smiled Red as she entered the room with a tablet and put it down at the side of Yrba's tub. "Have a cup of the good stuff? Here, try that. It'll bring back some memories."

"Oh no you haven't!" exclaimed Yrba after the first sip and stared at the cup. "You've still got the recipe?"

"Just the way we liked it then. Sugar sludge all the way and enough hidden coffee to kick like a mule and keep dancing the whole night through."

"Oh yeah! Your master got a lot of complaints from the village boys' parents back then. And you got a lot of dick. And laid some of the girls as well, not just me. Barely a day where you wouldn't come to me begging for the happy ever after pills. And the other—?"

"Your favorite body oil." She winked. "Don't get too naughty on yourself, you still need to recover a bit."

"Mmmh." The water in Yrba's tub sloshed as she wiggled into a more relaxed position. "Feeling better already. Care to join me in here and help me slather myself?"

Red sighed. "Some tease you are, darling. Alas, someone's got to keep an eye on the street. You're much too careless, you know. Should be hiding in the attic instead of —"

"Yrbaaaaaa!" wailed her blond protege from across the room.

Red raised her eyebrows. "Seems you've got some more holding hands to do, eh? See you later." The bawd grinned. She ruffled Yrba's hair, nodded over her shoulder to the playful wrestling in the big tub, turned and left, chuckling quietly.

"Yrba, they want me to spread my legs!" Mirca complained, holding her golden bush in one cupped hand while feebly fending off the giggling horde of young women in front of her. "They won't listen to me! Tell them to stop! Now thats, uh, naughty stuff, isn't it? I mean, if someone else touches the — the wrinkly things down there?"

"No, dear. That's important stuff. Being clean everywhere is important, especially around your downy mound. Just let them do it and watch carefully. I'm sure they know all about it."

Mirca lowered her arms and shrugged, still looking a bit uneasy.

"Uh, right, then. I mean, you're so smart, so ... if you say so, then, uh..." She turned to the women, gnawed on her lower lip and finally raised her index finger in a timid gesture. "But gently, okay? Uh, who is tending the oven? Because, I'm feeling, like, like, sorta warm inside..."

"You're not the only one," Yrba whispered to herself.

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"You like that now, don't you? Yes you do. Yeeees you do," cooed Charlene, kneeling by Mirca's side. She stroked gently up and down the insides of Mirca's thighs with a big, soft brush, while her other hand traced the hills and valleys of the blonde's leg muscles.

"Oh yes! It feels so great! In the palace, they'd only give us those hard brushes made from roots and whatnot. I even once accusi—uh—dentialy cut myself with one!"

Berry stood in Mirca's back, raised another bucket of water and emptied it slowly over the tall young woman's head and shoulders. The steaming rivulets snaked down over Mirca's skin, and she sighed happily.

"Mmmh. My skin's so warm now and tickling everywhere! That's fun! I never thought that's possible!"

Sylvia was the first to notice. She stopped her cooing chatter and stared at the huge breast she was scrubbing in big circles. The brush dropped into the water, she changed her grip, cupped the underside with both hands and lifted the weighty orb.

"Eh, girls ... that's weird. This one's become much softer. See?"

She let go, and it was true: the breast had lost some of its bullet-like, taut shape and sagged visibly against Mirca's chest. Sylvia hefted the glandular protrusion and lifted it up to her face, gazing at the round areola and the plum-sized nipple. The wrinkled skin of the areola smoothed right under her watchful stare.

Her eyes widened. She gasped.

"Girls, I — I think it's just grown in my hands! Hey, witch! Look here! She's not going to blow again, is she?" Sylvia leaned slowly away from the melon in her hands. The round, sagging orb jittered and swelled a little more. She recoiled and pulled back her hands. The raised boob slapped back down against Mirca's chest. Water gushed over the tub's rim as they all staggered away from the mortified blonde and cowered down into the water, raising their arms like shields. "Wiiiiiitch! She's growing again! Hurry!"

Water sloshed violently as Yrba jumped up in her small tub. After a few tense, quiet seconds, she relaxed.

"No. No magic anywhere around. It's just the milk again. She's bloating like the last time in the stash, not like the kitchen. I'm so happy I'm not stuck with her in the entresol."

They all slowly relaxed and lowered their arms. In the silence, one could hear a pin drop.

"Just milk then? No weirdness?" asked Sylvia, stroking her matted black mane back into her neck.

"A lot of milk. No weirdness but that," Yrba replied and slumped back into her tub.

"I could have told you that," muttered Mirca. "You wouldn't have to hide and worry if you had asked me."

Yrba sat bolt upright.

"What did you just say?!" she gasped.

Mirca seemed to deflate as her body cowered down a little. That her breasts stretched just a tad bigger at the same moment gave the curious impression of her height turning into cup size. She fidgeted for a few moments, casting nervous glances at Yrba from underneath her eyebrows, then she stammered:

"I — I can tell, it — it feels somewhat different, see? The milk's just warm, and stretchy-full, a—and with the — the other g—growth, it's more of a, a, a tingle and the shuddering all over and — it's just different. I can tell. Should I tell? Without being asked? I mean, I got into trouble, when I once spoke outta turn, at the palace, and I — I don't want to be any trouble..."

Yrba sighed with relief. "You're amazing. Of course you should tell us what's coming. Girl, not one in a thousand can tell different ways of magic apart. I'm really proud of you. So tell me, what do you feel? What's that swelling in your breasts?"

Mirca beamed and straightened to her full height, rising head and shoulders above the women around her who stared at the giantess with open mouths. Her swollen breasts protruded proudly off her chest. "Really? Uh, it's milk. Just lots of milk. I've never felt it so strong before, but I'm sure. Masses of milk. Gallons!" she boasted, and added, "uh, oh—," while her voice tapered as she noticed the effect of her words on the ring of women around her.

Five pairs of eyes swiveled to Mirca's growing areolae, to the flesh puffing up as the milk, still dammed up behind the turgid nipples, was getting ready to gush. Charlene was just the first of the women to hungrily lick her lips and lean forward with gaping mouth and pouted, funnel-shaped lips.

Mirca blushed. "Uh, g—girls, why are you l—looking at me like that? I thought you didn't like any m—," she stammered and took a small step backwards. Berry's strong arms wrapped around her from behind and squeezed her arms to her side.

Her almost-equal sized captor rubbed up against Mirca's body, leaned over her shoulder and whispered raunchily in her ear:

"Where d'ya think you're going, my udder queen?"

She sat down into the warm water and dragged the struggling Mirca down along with her. The others moved in slowly like a swarm of sharks, smacking their lips.

"Relax, girl," Berry cooed and stroked her head against Mirca's. "They're just thirsty for a little milk."

"But I haven't got a little milk! I've got a big milk coming!"

"All the better." Berry pecked a kiss on the blonde's cheek and said, "Here, let me help you carry your load," and lifted the two growing melons from the warm water. The first drops of the nurturing liquid oozed from the rising nipples, ran down along the bulging flesh and fell from Berry's strong fingers down into the tub. Mirca shuddered with sudden pleasure in the deft grip.

"Buffet's open! Who wants to be first? No hustling, there's enough for all of you! Open wide, and I'll squeeze a gush to drown you, right into your little maws," Berry joked.

"Don't talk like that! No, let me go now, you big meanie! This is so embarrassing!" wailed Mirca.

Berry shook her head, and her voice became gentle. "It's not. Giving milk? It's natural. Here, calm down and breathe with me. One ... two ... one ... two. Sloooowly. Relax. Mmmmh. Just let 'em drink for a little while. It doesn't get any more natural than that. Don't you think they deserve a treat for the nice scrubbing they gave you?"

Another delightful shudder of expansion ran through the blonde. Her voice was tinted with a faint moan as she whispered nervously, "Y—Yrba—?"

"You listen to her, Mirca!" sang the witch, rubbing the expensive oil into her arms and enjoying the show.

"Oooohhhh—kay then," moaned Mirca, and her knees grew weak as she gave herself up completely to Berry's strong, sure embrace and the brunette's soft, massaging grip on the underside of her breasts that fired up her over-eager glands even further. The bouncer nibbled tenderly on her earlobe.

"Yes, that's the spirit, my sweet milk maid. Oh, did you feel that?" Berry's fingertips followed a particularly eager, slowly throbbing milk duct and gently stroked its produce towards the nipples. Mirca nodded, shuddering all over.

"Good, cutie. Let it happen. Let it flow. Let it fill you," Berry exhaled into Mirca's ear.

Suddenly Sylvia spread her arms and leaned against her friends, holding them back.

"No, wait!"

"Wait? Come on! My mouth's dry after that fright, I need a sip! She's got plenty to go 'round!" protested Jean, and the others joined in.

"No! Wait! Look! Just look! I want to see how she slowly fills up! I want to see how big she gets! If it's harmless anyway, then I got to see that up close."

She reached out and gently ran her fingertips over the swelling and stretching masses. Sylvia couldn't help herself, a giggle rose from her throat.

"Like—like a twitching muscle, somewhere in there. Ooooh. Again! See how the skin stretches outward from the areolae as it fills up? Oh, that's so weird!" She gulped. "And ... hot." Her hands cupped the breast with wide-spread fingers. The round shape trembled in her palms, speeding up its growth.

Jean leaned forward, too, and gently squeezed the areola between thumb and forefinger. Mirca gasped.