Yrba's Travels Pt. 02

She clutched her belly. The taut skin of her midriff protruded from her open clothes. Desperately rubbing her hands over it, she tried to relax her muscles, to find more space. Yrba already had trouble breathing in. Her distended stomach forced the diaphragm up. Then, just as she thought she'd rip or choke, a deep gurgle came from her womb. Warm liquid gushed and wormed on from her stomach into her empty bowels. The bloat spread deeper. She ripped open the hem of her skirt. This was only temporary relief, she knew it. She was just buying time. Thirty feet's length of wound-up, curled time. And still Mirca's breasts kept spewing on and on. The witch felt as if she was trapped in limbo, forever being force-filled with milk in an orgy of torture.

And now the other growth started as well. She knew it was inevitable. All of her tubes were chock-full of Mirca's dairy produce, it was bound to happen. The warmth of waking glands spread through her breasts, and moments later, the weight on her chest increased. She filled up there, too, slowly but steadily. And if she didn't find a way to get rid of the vast amount of Mirca's rich milk that her body so eagerly processed, her belly wouldn't be the only thing she'd have to worry about.

Yrba didn't even notice when the hatch was opened again from the outside. Only when she heard her name did she turn her head, but she didn't let go of the nipples until she saw Red's face smiling into the narrow room. The bawd's expression quickly turned into one of deep concern when she saw the witch's taut belly bulging from her wide open clothes.

"Yrba! Gods and high heavens, what have you done to yourself this time?"

The witch clutched her bloated, aching midriff. Her smile was filled with pain as she turned her head to Red, and her breathing was fast and flat.

"Couldn't let milk ― drip from ― ceiling. Give me ― a rope. Pull me out ― so full ― can barely move. Ooooh ― hurry up! Need ― a privy ― quick, else ― mess in here!" Yrba wheezed. She ground her teeth as the forefront of the ample load of sweet, undigested milk made its way along the final winding curves of her guts.

Yrba emerged from the small outhouse behind the brothel with her hands trembling and her knees shaking. Red cocked her head and looked at her, with concern in her eyes.

"Don't ever ask!" was the witch's brusque answer to the unspoken question. She raised a finger in warning, and then her head slowly slanted. Her hand began to shake, her eyes crossed and her arms sagged down limply to her sides. Moments later, she collapsed to her knees and leaned forward. Red caught her in time, but no matter how hard or gently she shook her, Yrba was out like a light.

"Red, we―," one of the girls began, peeking through the backdoor, but the bawd cut her off.

"Here, help me carry her to my bedroom. Quick! Oh gods, her skin's freezing cold! I need hot water, cold water, a few towels, the usual stuff. My goodness, I can hardly believe it! That crazy gal!" She shook her head, laid Yrba's limp arm around her shoulder and lifted her up. "All right, what else?" she groaned as she pulled the witch's body along the corridor to the stairway.

Sylvia, the short, stocky raven-hair with the supple hips, wiped away a thin layer of milk all around her mouth. In her other hand, she held a huge crowbar.

"Sorry, Red. No way. We've taken rounds creeping into the entresol and squeezed all we could from that bimbo, but her boobs are still too big. I don't think we made any difference at all. She's growing again! I don't know where she's taking all that milk from. We've stuffed her nipples into a heap of the towels, so at least she's not making the ceiling drip. Smell of spoiled milk's the last thing we need around the house. But we can't move her. It's just too tight in there, and she's all covered in milk and sweat now. Slippery as a pig. No way. Can't get a grip on her. The big B sent me to fetch her tools. We'll have to tear up the floor boards in the room above her. She can't even budge, the way she's wedged in there now!"

Red muttered a curse and sighed. "Right, do it. We haven't got much of a choice, do we? You tried ropes, did you?"

Sylvia nodded. "Yeah, no dice. Okay, Berry's already moving furniture out of the way. We'll get her out one way or the other."

Quietly, she added, "And I won't go near milk for weeks," and rubbed her aching belly. "Heavens, she ain't got tits, that klutz has udders to make a cow blush!"

Chapter 8: Free Mirca

"Please! Why won't someone come and free me? Where have you all gone?"

One of the three women sitting on the stairs and holding their bellies bent forward and looked into the stash.

"Don't worry, we're here. We just need a break. We can't swallow another drop. It's just not working. Just look at you! Your boobs have filled up again! As soon as Sylvie and the B return with the crowbars, they'll rip out the boards above you and pull you out."

"Rip out ―? Oh no! Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't want to have you ruin your own house! I'm just such an oaf! Oh please, don't hit me!"

Quiet sobbing and the rustle of someone curling up in fear came from the hatch. The women looked at each other. Then one, a younger, amply endowed lass with straight, jet-black hair and bronze skin, sighed. She crawled back into the tight, dark space and caressed the crying girl from behind.

"It's okay, y'know? Hi, I'm Charlene. Call me Charley."

More sobbing was the only reply.

Charlene smiled and raised her hand to Mirca's shoulder. "Oh, my dear, why would anyone hit―"

Charlene stopped and ground her teeth as her fingers running over the muscular back touched a mesh of scars. She knew what tool caused those crisscrossing lines.

"Poor thing," she whispered, then she spooned up to her and wrapped her arms around the waist in front of her. "There, there. Don't cry. Nobody's going to hurt you here." She shuddered as her fingertips ran over the well-defined belly muscles that she hadn't expected to find, and her voice became just a tad darker. "Mmmh. Don't worry, we'll keep you safe. Stop crying." She kissed her gently on the shoulder. Mirca sniffled and slowly calmed down.

"I ― I think the towels are soaked through again," she muttered. With a sigh, the two other girls outside readied another set of buckets and began to wring out the dripping cloths.

"All right, girls, let's get her out of there and see what all that fuss is about!"

Berry pulled hard at the crowbar, and the first floor board splintered. The auburn, brawny, mature woman who earned her living as Red's all-purpose housekeeper made short work of the wooden floor above Mirca. Her deft motions turned two more boards into firewood, and then Li and Jean managed to reach for Mirca's outstretched arms. She grabbed their hands. The two girls groaned in pain when they suddenly found their fingers in a death clutch from hell. Helped by their desperate pulling, Mirca crawled from the narrow hideaway and rolled on her back, panting hard.

"Thanks! I wouldn't have lasted much longer in there."

"Yeah, good for you," grumbled Berry, "But guess who's the lucky gal who has to fix the floor? And dammit, this whole place now smells like a dairy." Then she stared at Mirca for quite some time, overwhelmed by the sheer size of the blonde, and even more so by the sight of those heavy, full breasts that sagged to the left and right of her chest, like two melons caught in veined, sweaty skin bags. Plum-sized nipples grew on palm-sized, bulging areolae, and the skin glistened with a thin film of milk. The badly ripped and worn dress hung around her waist. The gray cloth was almost black, soaked with milk. "So you're a mighty big one," Berry conceded and whistled quietly through her teeth.

The blonde nodded weakly, resting motionlessly on the floor save for her breathing. "Not my fault," she mumbled. "Tired. Oh so very tired. Breasts aching. Full again." As if to underscore her words, her breasts tautened and rose.

"Oh no! Look at them! You can see them filling up! And now she's squirting milk all by herself," Jean exclaimed and pointed at the thin jets spraying from the rough skin of the nipples. "Do we need to keep on milking her forever or what?"

"We help you get up now! Then you go lie down and sleep in bed! We clean up, we take care of rest!" Li commanded in her heavy accent. Berry and Jean grabbed Mirca's arms and pulled her upright. The petite almond-eyed eastern girl with the flat, round face and the big bun of black hair gasped at the sight of the sun-burnt back with the old scars. "Li be rubbing you with healing oil now!" she declared. "Hurry, hurry! Be using narrow bed of mine and have breasts hang out left and right for milking!"

Li's "non-professional" bed was barely one and a half foot wide. They laid Mirca face down into it and propped up her chest on a few extra cushions which they stuffed into her cleavage. With the weight of her upper body supported on that soft mound, her breasts were now free to dangle left and right over the bed's edges. She put her arms forward and rested her head on her crossed arms, giving herself up completely to the hands and fingers of her milkers.

This time, no new milk magically appeared in the orbs, and while Berry and Jean kept expressing milk from each udder, the breasts slowly shrunk down in their grip until they resembled two half-melons. The excess skin formed a rough patch with circular wrinkles around the nipples. The folds gradually faded and became part of the palm-sized areola.

"Pshaw! Magic cheater you are," snarled Berry at the sight of the adjusting skin, "Would've served you right to have wrinkly, empty bags for all the trouble you've caused!"

Mirca whimpered, "I didn't want to ― I'm sorry ―"

"Oh shut up! Sorry, sorry, sorry, wail, wail, wail is all I've heard from you!"

Mirca fell silent, except for the occasional sniffle when she drew up the tears.

"Berry!" Jean slapped the older woman over the head. "Leave the poor girl alone!" She patted Mirca on the shoulder. "There, girl. You sleep now, m'kay? Momma Jean's gonna take care of the rest."

It wasn't long until Mirca's breath slowed and deepened, and she fell asleep to the rhythmic stroking and the "psssht―psssht" of her milk whizzing into the buckets.

"Well, that's it. She's empty. Finally," Jean sighed and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "I'll say, she's a mighty strong one, and not just in her milk. Dammit, my arms are black and blue where she grabbed me! Huh, Berry? And what was that about? Afraid she'll take away your job and become the new bouncer? She's looking like she might be your younger prettier sister, I'll say. And she got enough boobs for both of you."

Berry did not reply. She thoughtfully, hostilely stared at the huge blonde.

"You be going way now! Li need space to rub oil in big girl!" The eastern whirlwind ushered them both out of the small room. "Go take bath! Go! You reek too! And be taking buckets along!"

Once she was alone with the sleeping blonde, Li pulled at her sash. Her kimono fell open, and she let it slip off her narrow shoulders. Underneath, she was naked except for a wide piece of cloth slung around her hip and in loops around her legs. On her chest, tiny breasts sprouted hard, unusually large and rough nipples from dark, brown-black areolae.

Her breath quickened. She pulled the long needles out of the bun of her black hair. It unrolled and fell all the way down until its tips caressed her small but round buttocks.

She opened the small cabinet by the side of her bed and picked a bottle and a small vial from it. On the worn labels, the enigmatic characters of her native language resembled drawings more than anything else. Li held her breath while she opened the small vial and sprinkled a little of the grayish powder in the air in front of Mirca's face. The blonde's next inhale drew it deep into her lungs, and after a few seconds of silence, her body sagged all the way down into the pillows and grew limp with a long sigh. With her head turned sideways, her mouth dropped open and the tip of her freakishly long tongue lolled out. After plugging the vial shut, the girl from the east dared to breathe again.

Li puddled a generous helping of the oily liquid from the bottle into her left hand's cupped palm. Putting down the container, she rubbed her hands until her fingers glistened. Then she climbed over Mirca's back, put her knees left and right of the blonde's waist and sat down on the hard buttocks. The slender woman bent forward and began kneading the strong shoulders. Her skilled fingers slowly worked their way down along over the mounds and bumps of Mirca's muscled back.

It wasn't long before Li's hip began to rock back and forth, and her hands started to tremble whenever they went near the root of Mirca's breasts or the wide hips beneath the narrow waist. Li bit her lips.

Giant girl, I cannot resist you. Oh gods, you're all my dreams crammed into one. Forgive me. I need release, or I burst. You're asleep, you won't notice. You won't mind. I hope you won't mind.

She shuddered with excitement.

Heavens, you could crush me with those strong arms.

She moved her seat further down, slipping down from Mirca's hard buttocks onto the meaty thighs. Her oiled fingers wandered over the spherical muscles of Mirca's rear and pulled the cheeks apart. The blond bush appeared in the candlelight. Li pulled at the cloth wrapped around her hips. It came loose, and she dropped it without regard by the side of the bed. Spreading her own legs wide, Li lost the fingers of her right hand in her own short black pubic hair. From the sweat-matted black curls, a huge, finger-like clitoris rose as she rubbed the outer lips. The lust knob was no longer pink but almost dark red now, engorged and glistening with her natural lubricant, which she rubbed from her dripping opening all over her vulva.

Li pushed gently forward. Her nervous clit dug into the narrow crack, and she slowly gyrated her hips while her hands grabbed the blonde's protruding buttocks and pushed them together and against her own hips. Moments later, she stooped and let her grip wander over Mirca's waist, then around it until her fingertips met under the hard belly. Struggling and panting, she lifted the heavy blonde's hip until the sleeping girl almost knelt. Li adjusted her own position. Pressing against the huge butt crack in front of her, the smooth skin of Mirca's buttocks slid up and down along the tip of the itching knob. The blond curls of Mirca's unshaved crotch tickled around the length of Li's clitoris. They slipped over its sensitive skin and gently tugged at it each time when her frantic thrusts entangled the strands. Li felt the center of her lust becoming snarled up like a fish in a net.

Her breath raced. Her heart pounded in her ears. With a suppressed moan she froze, pressing against her mount. Long minutes passed until she stooped forward and slowly sank down together with the limp blonde, dropping on Mirca's wide back, her own sweat-covered skin sticking to the giantess' oiled, glistening body. Li's small hands wandered down the hanging boobs and caressed the huge nipples.

"Thank you, my big golden hair goddess," she mumbled, sounding like a bird's gentle twitter. After she caught her breath again, she climbed down and finished massaging and rubbing the oil into Mirca's muscles.

Chapter 9: Belated Introductions

"Mirca! Don't ―!" screamed Yrba as she jerked awake in the sweat-drenched bed.

"Shhhh. She's all right, she's all right. She's fine. Would you believe my girls are all over her? It's you who needs some more rest now." Someone returned a wet, cold rag gently on her forehead.

"Red? Is that you? What day is this? How long have I been out?" All she could see was a dark silhouette against the window, sitting back down on a chair. Pale moonlight came in again ― or still? ― from the outside. The shadow nodded to her.

"Yeah, it's me, darling. You've been out cold for a whole day and night, but you made it. Oh Yrba, you're incredible."

"Incredibly stupid, you mean. Oh heavens, what have I done to the poor girl."

The witch took a deep breath and sighed, slumping back into the cushions.

"Red, be careful. Mirca's very dangerous. It's not her fault. I've not had a chance to train her yet. Her breasts ―"

"I know. I've seen the ruins of the warehouse, and I thought, with you involved, it can be either her ass or her tits. She woke this morning, if only for a few moments. So I talked to her and I even got a few answers out of her before she dozed off again. Don't worry."

"Don't worry? Oh Red, you've got no idea. No idea! I don't even know why or when ― or how big ― her boobs will blow up next time. I thought I had this under control, but I didn't expect that growth spurt while we were hiding, and I'm afraid this might be getting worse."

The bawd chuckled. Against the pale rectangle of the window, Red's silhouette lifted a hand and slowly ran her fingertips over the contours of her pair of protuberant breasts.

"What did she do, drink two of your vials at once?"

"She didn't tell you?" Yrba slowly shook her head. "No, of course she wouldn't. Too timid for that. Red, I've shoved her mouth in my crotch and force-fed her this year's whole batch, straight from the source. Undiluted."

Even in the dim light, Yrba saw how the color drained from Red's face. Her eyes darted to the heavy door, as if she half expected it to burst out of the frame, blown to pieces by a barrel-sized nipple.

"You did what!? Jackass! When will you ever learn? You promised you'd never do something that stupid again, and then you went and did it! Yrba, I should slap you silly! What now, she's about to bury the town under tits?"

"Relax. You think I'd have done it if I'd had any other choice? It was either that, or her and me, we'd both be stiff by now. I thought the risk was negligible. It all went the way it always does, maybe a tad bigger, right until that moment in your hideout. And now I don't know ― no, I'm pretty sure she won't blow up again, at least not too soon. Hardly any magic left around here after the blast in the dungeons. I was surprised your little boob-up trick still worked. It'll be weeks until it grows back to full strength, and even then, I know how to contain it. I managed when she was all juiced up on the potion, and I can do it again once I get back on my feet. But I somehow need to teach her ―"

"Shh. Hold it there. You say it's OK for now? Good! Then you can afford to stay in bed for another day. You still can hardly lift a finger."

She leant forward and handed Yrba an earthen cup. "Here, drink this."

"Yuck! What's that vile stuff?" muttered the witch after the first gulp.

"Ooh, Miss Know-it-all has got a question?" Red grinned. "Girl, you've emptied your insides so thoroughly, you were just about to croak. So I put a funnel in your ass and filled your entrails with two buckets of that stuff. It's just sugar, salt and lots of water. Yes, that's nothing compared to your magic, but I learned it keeps people alive until they stop having the runs. Admitted, people are supposed to drink it, but you weren't especially lucid the last two days so I didn't want to wash it down your gullet for fear of drowning you. Had to get it into you one way or the other, so I chose the backdoor."

Yrba stared down into the cup. "And I wondered why it tastes like something straight from my ―"

Red slapped her playfully over the head.

"Ybbie!" she exclaimed in a mock huff. "Of course that's fresh. Gods! Eww! What is it with you and your dirty mind? Drink that and then lie down again!