A Night at the Dancing Dog Inn Ch. 02

Åsvald the bookswain led a rather dull life. He awoke every day at dawn, at the call of the town crier, ate a breakfast of barley bread with butter, beans, and bacon, and then trudged down the lane, sometimes through rain and snow and hail, to his master's bookshop.

There, he would sort books, shelve books, buy books, and sell books. And that was it. All day, every day, he sat behind the counter, waiting for the jingle of the bells above the door. Every once in a while, a customer would come in looking for a specific volume. It was mostly the monks from the nearby temple of Tarja who did that, for most of the town of Þickbaum was illiterate. Åsvald never knew why his master had decided to open a bookseller's shop in the middle of a town full of farmers, who had no need or desire to read, and petty merchants, who could usually do sums and figures but couldn't make it through the first page of Torvald's Book of Bookstaves. Still, between the monks and the occasional rich, educated merchant or scholarly traveler somehow they always managed to sell enough to keep the shop running.

All of the monks and scholars were hunchbacked and wrinkled, the rich merchants fat and pompous. It was rare that anyone younger than forty ever stepped foot inside the shop, so it was especially surprising for Åsvald when, one snowy autumn day, the bells rang and a giant walked in.

She was so tall that she had to stoop to fit through the doorway. Her skin was dark and dusky, like one of the desert-folk of Vishanatar, but her hair was as white and pure as the snowflakes that speckled it, and her eyes were blue like the heart of a glacier.

Once she had closed the door behind her she stood and stretched, and her head nearly touched the ceiling. She was dressed like a peasant, in a simple dress of undyed linen which was very large, but still clearly not tailored for someone of her incredible stature. The skirt only went down to her knees, and the upper half strained against her upper half. She had the look of one well-fed, zaftig, with breasts so large that a woman of lesser stature might have had trouble standing with them.

Also, she was barefoot. Snow and dirt was caked on her feet, which she was polite enough to wipe before stepping inside.

"Hello," she said. "Do you buy books, or just sell them?" Her voice was high, light, and breathy, as un-alike from the rest of her as it was possible to be.

"We do. Aren't you cold, my lady?" said Åsvald.

"No. But I do have books I would like to sell." She hefted a huge traveling bag and set it down on the counter with a heavy thud. It was more than half-full of books, it turned out. There were perhaps thirty in there, many of them very thick. Åsvald was certain that he couldn't have even lifted the bag, but the woman carried it like it weighed almost nothing.

"I have a copy of Gunnar Magnisson's Arithmetic, in very good condition, and here, The Tales of Tuula of the River, in the original Vishana. Oh, and Pwakeos's Planets and Stars, which is very enlightening, but a bit dry." She pulled each book out of her bag and set it on the counter as she named them.

Åsvald wasn't paying much attention to the titles, because the woman, due to her great height, had to lean very far forward in order to reach the very low (to her) counter. Her dress didn't look like it was designed to show any cleavage, but it wasn't quite up to the task of covering her enormous voluptuousness, and Åsvald was able to look right down it.

"A History of the Knights of the Chrysanthemum. The Lay of Vela Shei. That one's rather lewd, but beautifully written. The Beasts of the North, beautifully illustrated. Oh, and here, The Thunderhead Mountains and the Folk who Live Thereupon, by Ori Tegsdotir."

That last one poked something in Åsvald's memory. A woman in a headscarf had come in a few months ago, looking for books about the people of the Thunderhead. She was willing to pay well for it.

He held up his hand. "Most of these are volumes that we already own, but I can buy the last one off of you. One crown."

The woman frowned. "I was hoping for at least two. It's a rather rare book, and the only one of its kind. Henriksdotir is the only one, as far as I know, to have studied my people in such depth. I am from the Thunderhead, so I can vouch for its accuracy."

"Nevertheless, I can only pay you a crown for it. There is, unfortunately, not much call for books about the Thunderhead here, despite our closeness to it. I'm not that most folk here even know that there are people living on the mountain, to be honest."

The woman frowned. "Right. Okay, how about this. You give me two crowns, and I'll give you the book, and I'll also let you see my breasts."

Åsvald blinked. "Pardon?"

"You heard me rightly. You haven't looked at my face since I walked in, so I know you want to see them."

"Ah... I, uh..."

"I'll even let you touch them a little." She pulled the upper hem of her dress down a bit, revealing more of her vast chest. "It's an opportunity that you'll probably never get again, unless you travel to the Thunderhead yourself. You'll probably never meet another woman with breasts as large as mine, so really, isn't one crown worth it for the experience?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

--

Ten minutes later, Kvana was smiling and adjusting her dress as she walked out the door. These smallfolk were so mystified by her breasts that she couldn't help but be amused. Among her own people she was large-chested, but not extraordinarily so, yet she still possessed the largest breasts that most of them had ever or would ever see.

She was lucky that booksellers tended to be sheltered, shy fellows who didn't talk to women much. She had only resorted to using her breasts like that a few times, but she hadn't yet been turned down. The fact that most of the smallfolk women kept themselves covered all the time, even in the summer, probably helped. The bookswain was young, maybe in his early twenties or so. Kvana wouldn't have been surprised if hers were the only breasts he had ever seen.

Henriksdotir's book was, in truth, probably only worth one crown, but two would buy her a nice meal and a room for the night, and after several long weeks of traveling, sleeping on the ground and eating game and forage, she looked forward to filling her stomach and sleeping on a proper bed, even if it was certain to be too small for her.

When she had first left the Thunderhead, Kvana was confounded every day by her own height in the smallfolk settlements. She hit her head on doorframe after doorframe before she made ducking a habit, and it was only rarely that she found a smallfolk bed that her feet didn't hang off of. It was all worth it for the books though. Kvana's people didn't read or write- her native language was spoken only- and she had become the laughingstock of her tribe when they found out that she'd been sneaking down to the village of smallfolk in the foothills of the Thunderhead to get reading lessons from the clerics in their temple.

But oh, what wonderful books she had discovered since leaving! She had only shown the bookswain a few of them, there were far more in her bag: books full of stories, heroes from long ago, books about medicine and art, arithmetic and geometry, plants and animals, the stars and the earth. So many things to learn and discover, all within those pages. She had learned far more about the world in the fourteen years since she had left the Thunderhead than the seventeen she had spent growing up there. Nowadays the first thing she looked for when coming to a new town was a library, and after that, a bookseller.

Unfortunately, Þickbaum had none of the former, and only one of the latter. In a town as large of this she would have expected to find more, but it seemed that there wasn't much of a call for them here. She should have guessed as much when she saw that none of the inns or taverns or shops had words on their signs, just pictures.

She wouldn't be staying here long, she reckoned, but she wanted to get at least one night of proper bed-sleep in, and for that, she would need to find an inn. One of the townsfolk directed her to a street that he called Market Row (after pointing out her height, as if she didn't realize that she was taller than him), where she found herself bombarded from all sides by street vendors hawking their wares.

"Spices! Herbs and spices here! Lavendar from Velu Shala, the real stuff! Cinnamon all the way from Vishanatar!" "Hot pie! Get your hot pies here!" "Fine clothing! We've got silk robes, and dresses all the way from Lonia! Only the most fashionable, and we've even got clothes in your size, miss!" "Heartroot, powdered and raw! Just half a crown for a pound!" "Honeybread, fish stew! Come fill your bellies!"

The last caught Kvana's attention. Honeybread was a delicacy that she had first tried in Lonia. It was common there, but it was odd to find it this far north. She found the hawker behind a long stall that had been set up in front of an inn, which bore a sign that depicted a shaggy dog dancing on its hind legs.

"Honeybread, fish stew! Mutton and turkey! Come all, get a turkey leg and honeybread for just a quarter crown! One crown and you can eat until you're as stuffed as Signi and me!" There were three people behind the stall handing out food, all so alike in age and appearance that Kvana was fairly certain that they were siblings. All three were tall, for smallfolk, with freckles and red hair. The man was quite handsome, with a strong jaw and short-cropped beard, and he was rather thin.

The women, well, they looked like they had been as thin as their brother at one point, but the matching green dresses they wore now were stretched very tight over their hugely gravid middles. The one who was shouting had actually belted her skirt under her belly, so that the fabric clung to every last inch of it and left no doubt as to her condition, while her sister let hers hang freely. She was noticeably smaller about the stomach, but her breasts were much larger- Kvana would have called them small, but by the standards of the smallfolk they were anything but. She seemed to be a bit troubled by them. Every so often she would pause between customers and adjust her dress around the chest.

Kvana approached and set a crown on the stall in front of the shouter. "Honeybread and turkey please. And ale or wine. I have a big appetite."

The shouter stopped her shouting the moment she laid eyes Kvana, looking up at her slack-jawed, though she still took her coin. "Gods above, you're tall!"

"I'm average. You're all just short."

"Hey, I recognize that accent! Are you from Thunderhead?"

"Aye. You know of it?"

"I'm familiar. Hey, Signi!" She elbowed her sister's arm.

"Ow! What do you- Oh..." The more buxom sister seemed to notice Kvana for the first time, and her reaction was much the same.

"She's from Thunderhead! Do you think-"

"Do you know someone named Vasha?" Signi asked excitedly. "She's from the Thunderhead too."

"I know three Vashas. It is as common a name there as Bjørn is here."

"Really? Damn..." said the bigger-bellied sister. "Still, maybe you know our Vasha. She's tall, as tall as you, and strong enough to lift an anvil, or she looks like it, anyway. Buxom, too! Bigger-chested than Signi, but, uh, not quite so big as you. You're really huge all over, aren't you? Er, meaning no disrespect, of course."

"You just described half of my people. There are more than five-hundred tribes on the Thunderhead, and most of them have at least one Vasha who probably looks like that."

"That many? Sigrun, she might be harder to find than we thought." said Signi. Signi and Sigrun- they had to be sisters. Maybe even twins. Sigrun was probably carrying twins, with that belly of hers, though Signi looked like she would have no problem feeding all three of their children, if that was the case.

"Well, we might not have to. I mean, if she's like Vasha..." Both of them glanced at Kvana's skirt.

"Are you going to give me my food?"

"Yes, Of course!" said the bigger-bellied one. "You paid a whole crown, and that means you get to eat inside. Hey, Bjørn! Watch the stall for us. Signi and I are going to show this customer inside." The man looked over, spotted Kvana, and frowned, but before he could say anything each of the sisters had grabbed one of Kvana's arms and was pulling her into the inn.

They led her through a bustling common room, full laughing patrons and the most wonderful smells. Between the tables there were women bustling, carrying food and drink to waiting mouths. They were all wearing green dresses that matched the ones the twins wore, and all of them were young, except for the woman in the headscarf behind the bar. She was middle-aged, maybe a decade older than Kvana at the most, and she too was with child. As soon as the twins saw her they stopped sharply, then veered Kvana down the stairs that ran along the side of the room.

"Since you paid a whole crown, you don't have to sit in the common room with all the rabble," said Signi. Or was that one Sigrun? The one with the larger belly. Kvana had lost track of their names already.

"I don't care where I sit," Kvana protested. "I just want to eat."

Down the stairs was a hallway with five doors. They led her to the last one. "Here!" said the larger-breasted one. "This is our private dining suite!"

"For only a single crown? What-"

The twins pushed her through the door and closed it behind them. It was a pantry. Just an ordinary pantry, with big bags of flour and sacks of potatoes and shelves lined with vegetables and jars of honey and other foodstuffs. There was no place to sit.

Kvana looked around, befuddled. "Alright, what are you two playing at?"

"Well, we had to say something to get you alone with us, didn't we?" All of a sudden both twins were beside her, their breasts pressed against her arms. The larger-breasted one took Kvana's hand and rested it on her swollen stomach. "See, one of your folk did this to us, and ever since she left we've missed her a whole lot."

"What on earth does that have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, Vasha told us a whole lot of interesting things about the folk from Thunderhead. She said that half the women on the mountain are like her, and don't have woman-parts." That was the bustier twin, who was also running her hand along Kvana's thigh now.

"She also said that her, um... member. Was small compared to some of her kinfolk," said the other one.

"It was still big though. Bigger than any we'd ever seen."

"Bigger than any I'd seen. Signi hadn't seen any before that. And the thing is, after we got a taste of Vasha, she left." Signi was guiding Kvana's hand upward as the two of them spoke, until she was touching her breast, and Sigrun was very slowly lifting her shirt, revealing more and more of the taut, pale skin of her stomach.

"We only got one go with her, and then she was gone. It wasn't enough."

"I think I understand," said Kvana. "But why are you telling me this? I just wanted to eat honeybread. Many women from the Thunderhead have manhoods, this is true, but many more don't. What makes you think that I have one?"

Both twins looked down, simultaneously, at Kvana's skirt. More specifically, they looked at the massive tent that had formed in it. "Oh..." Kvana had been so befuddled by their sudden onslaught that she hadn't even noticed it getting hard.

"Gods! I think she's even bigger than Vasha was!"

"She definitely is." Sigrun put a hand on Kvana's stomach. "Well, what do you say to helping us relieve a little tension, er... What was your name again?"

"Kvana. You never asked me for it. Will I get to eat afterwards?"

"Kvana, if you fuck us half as good as Vasha did we'll make you a whole dinner every night you're in town for free."

Acting in unison without saying a word to each other, both twins started to hike up Kvana's skirt. She hesitated for a moment, but decided to let them do it. She thought it awfully presumptuous of them to assume that she had a cock as soon as they met her, and even moreso to assume that she was at all interested in the attention of women. Even so, they had assumed correctly on both counts, and from the way her cock was throbbing there was no doubt that they both knew it now. And besides, it had been a long time since Kvana had last been with anyone. She'd been among the smallfolk for years. Their women rarely had any interest in her, and the few that did usually lost it when they saw what Kvana had between her legs.

"Gods and demons, look at you!" cried Signi. Kvana wasn't wearing anything under her skirt, so as soon as they got it over her cock it was revealed to them. "It's as long as my arm!"

Well, it was as long as her forearm, anyway, from her elbow to the tips of her fingers, and it was thicker than her wrist. "It is only average size, for my people."

"Signi... Can we even do this? It felt like Vasha was nearly going to split me apart, and Kvana's bigger than her by half. And the babies, we don't want to hurt them..."

"I can make it fit," said Kvana. "We have magic, old magic, each one of us. It will make you feel good, and make me fit inside of you with no pain, and no harm to your children."

"Is that what all of that worship nonsense that Vasha did was about?" asked Signi. She was running the tips of her fingers up and down Kvana's shaft with something like reverence in her eyes. "With all the kissing and the flowery words?"

"There is kissing, yes. And an incantation. It could sound like worship, I suppose? The words are different for everyone. Personal." Kvana's cock twitched, and a spurt of precum ruined some apples that were in a basket on the floor near her feet.

"Oh! That was nice!"

"Look at the way the head is throbbing!"

"Goodness, just looking at it is making me all hot..."

Kvana started to pull her dress up over her head. "This will only get in in the way." It took a little bit of wiggling. Her breasts slapped heavily against her stomach when she finally got it off, and when she could see again she saw that the twins had both completely disrobed as well.

"Well? Like what you see?" giggled Sigrun, rubbing her immensely swollen belly. Both stomachs and all four breasts were completely free of stretch marks.

"I feel like a cow," said Signi, looking down at her plump breasts as she squeezed them together between her arms. "Sigrun's got two babies in her, but my tits have gotten big enough to feed all three of them." She squeezed her nipple, and a small trickle of white dribbled down her fingers. "The midwife says that I've already got more milk than some mothers do after they've given birth."

"You've still got less milk than Ferri. Now there's a cow for you, the great fat bint." To Kvana, Sigrun said, "She whinges, but she howls like a wildcat whenever anyone sucks on them. It's a good thing you were already thirsty."

Signi blushed. "They're sensitive! And anyway, forget about my breasts!" She scooted up close to Kvana, standing at her side. She was tall for one of the smallfolk, but the top of her head didn't even clear Kvana's shoulders. That meant that when they were both standing Kvana's breasts were right in her face, and her belly was exactly level with her cock. In fact, it bumped against it.

"Aye, I don't think I've ever seen tits as big as yours, Kvana. 'Course, I've never seen a woman as big as you either. You're taller than Vasha, I reckon," said Sigrun, sidling up on her other side. The way the two of them were standing, Kvana's cock was now sandwiched between their bellies, the warm, firm skin pressing against it from either side. She put her hand under one of Kvana's breasts and tried to lift it.

"Oof! How much do these weigh?"

"I don't know. Two stone, maybe?"