Yrba's Travels Pt. 02

"And no more sass or talking back!" Red added as Yrba took a deep breath. The witch deflated with a sigh.

"Yes, mistress," she mumbled, too weak and tired for a lengthy debate with her hostess. Soon, she was back in a deep, dreamless sleep. She didn't wake up again until almost nightfall the next day.

"Red, maybe this isn't such a good idea. What if they search the houses again? I better hide somewhere else," Yrba complained as Red led her down the stairs.

"Oh shush. It's not like the lord cares much about the town at all, beyond the taxes. The search that they did the night before yesterday? You blew up his cells and a random building, dear. Must've miffed him somewhat." Red chuckled. "Not that I mind the warehouse. That bastard deserved it for ages."

The bawd continued, "Lord Peter's got his castle and collects the taxes, but he's clever enough to not bugger us too much and just skims a bit off the top for himself. Leaves the running of the town to the mayor, who's a sensible guy. Was around even before that prick of a lord showed up. If you stick with us long enough, you might meet his wife. She's one of our regulars. Maybe I'll tell you the story some time. First let the girls get to know you. They've been gossiping ever since you barged in."

After Yrba made herself comfortable down in the big living room, Red put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. Yrba jerked and grimaced, once more adjusting the cold wet rag over her forehead.

"Dammit, Red! My head's still ready to explode just fine without your help!"

"Sorry, hon. Then you better plug your ears now." Red took a deep breath before hollering: "Roll call, ladies! Time to meet our mystery visitor!"

Footfalls came down the stairs, and moments later, the half dozen of girls hurried into the big anteroom and scattered over the benches and divans. Yrba recognized some of the faces, and their assorted breasts.

"Jean. Sylvia." She nodded to them and winced when her headache promptly kicked in again. The brunette Jean and Sylvia with the jet-black curls hadn't changed since the witch's last visit. Jean's skinny frame owed its eye-catching pair of boobs to a generous helping of the tincture, and Sylvia, round-faced with somewhat pronounced cheekbones, still was the vaguely motherly type with her voluptuous, proud and taut flesh in all the right places, with only the faintest of magical tweaking to add to her breast's protruding resilience. Her waist was wider than the hip of most women, but since her hips with the round, taut cheeks were also much more than just a handful, her overall profile was that of a chunky hourglass, one that wouldn't snap easily even in a rough squeeze. A few veils and jingling chains of gold, and she'd be right at home as the queen in any harem with her dark brown, promising, fiery eyes and luscious bosom. Many a happy men had found that Sylvia's matronly look hid a frisky quarter horse blessed with an insatiable appetite, a playful mare who would never pass up on a dangling carrot once her clothes came down.

Seeing the others, Yrba frowned. "I don't think we've been introduced yet."

"Oh, of course. This is Charley."

"Charlene," corrected the young, tall woman with the exotic tan and the straight black hair. Her voice was a husky promise of carnal pleasures, and surprisingly deep. A few colorful bands of silk were woven like a halo into the almost wig-like arrangement of her hair. She wore a two-piece dress cut unlike anything Yrba had seen before. A long veil ran in an X-shape over her chest and covered her breasts, though barely. The belt around her hips held two different cloths, a larger, darker one that covered her protruding derrière and went around the sides of her hip, and a white, palm-wide band tucked into the front. It hung down straight, shielding her crotch from sight. Thin gold bracelets clinked around her narrow ankles as she moved her toned legs slightly apart. The cloth gaped open, and her slender legs showed through the gaps between her loincloth and the rest of her skirt. Her body's hourglass shape was to die for, and the almost bullet-shaped balcony, proudly jutting out on its own accord, had brought many a visitor of Red's house to tears of joy. She knew her worth, knew it a tad too well maybe, since there was more than just a hint of smugness in her voice that detracted from her marvelous appearance.

"Charlene, right," sighed Red. "Now she won't need your little helpers any time soon."

Yrba nodded. "That I can see, Red. Big and outreaching and perky, that's rare."

Charlene shrugged nonchalantly. "All natural, none of the cheating." She shot a quick, belittling glance at the others. "Runs in my family. Well, I've got maybe another few years, and then, sadly, they'll sag like yours."

"Thanks for reminding me," grumbled the witch.

"And this little faery here is Li. Eastern lands refugee, I guess. She doesn't really talk much about it. I've bought her from a traveling merchant, some time last year. That's why you've not met her yet. She speaks but a little of our language. Good with the cooking if you like your food spiced, and some other things. Still a bit shy, but we're making progress."

Yrba put her palms and flat fingers together in front of her chest and bowed. Li's face beamed, and she answered with the same greeting before she twittered rapidly in her native tongue. It might or might not have been a question. Yrba shook her head with a sad smile.

"Sorry, dear. I know a thing or two about this greeting stuff, but I've got no idea what you're saying."

Li pulled at Jean's shoulder, and as the skinny brunette bowed down sideways, the yellow-skinned raven-hair whispered into her ear. Jean laughed after a few seconds, and glanced at Yrba.

"She's asking if you're the one she's heard all the stories about."

The eastern girl seemed to have mustered some more courage and nodded. She had the loveliest accent, and the words stumbling around in her sentences didn't hurt her exotic aura either.

"Yes, Li be liking knowledge if you are swelly boob witch of famous," warbled the almond-eyed beauty.

"Swelly boob witch?" Yrba chuckled. "That's a first. Well, no point in denying it. Yes, I am."

Li reached again for her neighbor. Whisper. Twitter. Mumble mumble.

"Uh, she says she'd imagined you a lot older and uglier and less, heh, uh―." Jean hesitated and glanced at Yrba's bosom. "Let's just say curvaceous."

Yrba laughed. "Yeah, and right now, I feel too old and ugly. No, I've started magicking when I was very young, little lady. And you? You want to add a little to your chest? Are you even old enough to work around here?" Yrba frowned all of a sudden and her eyes narrowed. She usually was quite good at guessing people's age, but Li's features made her draw a blank. The size, the lack of breasts, the soft face, the cute tiny nose ― "Hey, how old are you, after all?"

Li giggled behind raised hands and turned her face away. Red quickly picked up the dialogue.

"She's your age, Yrb. I couldn't believe it at first either."

"My ―? Fuck. She barely got a wrinkle! Now I'm green with envy." The witch shook her head, but didn't bother with doubting Red's words. They knew each other far too long and well for that. She just said, "Wow. I'd have figured she's at best in her twenties, and at worst ... I was worried you'd have gone towards the uglier end of your line of work."

"Don't you know enough about my life? I was sure you'd never accuse me of subjecting anyone else to the things I've been through, Yrb."

"These are tough times, Red. Sometimes people stray from their good intentions, out of desperation."

"Yeah, like buying exotic slaves to set them free, eh?"

Li twittered some more. Jean translated.

"She says she's sorry if she's insulted you. She's asking whether you'd like to have a sample of her abilities, to make up to you. Her fingers are slender and can go places you're not going to believe at first." Jean giggled. "I'd give it a try! I did, and ― wow. Is all I'm saying."

Yrba smiled. "Tempting. Maybe later. And who's this mountain of muscles?"

She looked up to the towering woman half-hidden in the darker shadows near the door. The floor boards groaned as the massive shape pushed off from the doorframe and stepped forward. Curly auburn hair fell down well below broad shoulders and framed a square face with a no-nonsense expression and a rather pale, northern coldlands complexion spattered with freckles. The first signs of age showed as tiny wrinkles on the furrowed brow and in the corner of her cold, green eyes, but the woman almost burst with strength, though not bust, from the brown leather vest with the short sleeves. Muscles swelled and made the sleeves' seams creak as she shifted her weight and crossed her scarred arms over her chest, held the witch's stare from up high and rumbled with a somewhat harsh accent that Yrba couldn't immediately place, "Berry Ann. I'm Red's bouncer. And don't you dare try and put your blond beefcake in my place. She may be a bit taller than me, but she's just a soft puppy. I can punch her lights out any which way I choose."

Yrba frowned at the outright hostile tone. "Sorry, what? That's not the kind of work I've got in mind for her. Don't worry, your job is safe."

"Relieved to hear that, witch." Berry's expression didn't match her words, not at all. "Well, since we're done with the niceties and you're no longer sleeping, I'll go and fix the floor boards that your oversized lapdog ruined. Thanks a bunch for that, potion brewer!"

She spun around. The door slammed shut, right into Red's angry call of "Berry―!"

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the bawd shook her head. "I've never seen her like this before. Yrba, I'm sorry, I don't know what's the matter with her."

Yrba sighed. "I guess she really is afraid that you'll dump her for Mirca. Jealousy and fear. Bad mixture. Now how did she end up here? I mean, just a little less tits, and she'd pass for a man, with those muscles. She's hardly the kind of stuff your girls are usually made of. If it weren't for the face, she might be Mirca's elder sister."

"Found her half-naked, half-dead and bleeding, last winter when we were out in the forest stacking up on firewood. Had some truly nasty sword wounds. No idea how far she had dragged herself on through the woods like that, the poor thing."

Yrba cast a glance at her friend from the corner of her eyes and frowned somewhat uneasily.

Oh Red, that's so like you again. That walking mountain's easily twice your bulk and who knows how many notches decorate her sword's handle, but you can't help but think of her as "that poor thing." Your "poor thing" carries enough fighting marks for a whole gang of thugs, for heaven's sake!

"Lots of bruises, too," the bawd continued. "Wore little else but chain mail, most of it in tatters. We patched her up. She doesn't want to talk about what happened, and I'm not going to try and make her. Yes, I know that gaze of yours, Ybbie. She's okay. She's decided to stay, and she's doing a good job of keeping trouble away. Kind of what you've got in mind with your blonde, eh? People might not stiff you on your bills with a detergent like her around, huh?"

The witch shrugged and couldn't help being herself either. "Deter-rent, Red. If there's anything you don't want to mention around your Berry, I guess it's soap. Mirca as my ―? Yeah, kinda. Maybe. Hey, why not? I've not really thought it all through, had to play a lot of things by ear, those last few days. Oh, where is she, after all? She's not still asleep, is she?"

Li gulped and lowered her head. "Not fault of gold hair girl," she mumbled, "fault mine, boob witch of honor. Me giving her sleeping powder to help heal. She still snoring in bed of mine."

"Li! I told you not to fool around with that any more!" Red hissed angrily.

Yrba wasn't too delighted, either. Her hand slammed down on the table. "Little woman, you bring me this stuff right away," she growled and leaned forward. "She's no ordinary girl! Who knows what it'll do to her!"

"Li not know―!" gasped the exotic beauty, her dark eyes opening wide. She backed away, stammering, "Li go fast! Bring powder! Not know!" Trembling all over, the girlish woman spun around and stormed out the room.

On her way up the stairs, she bumped from behind into Berry, who was carrying an armful of spare floor boards over her one shoulder and a bucket with hammer and nails in the other hand.

"Berry! Go! Go! Go! Make," she groaned as she tried to squeeze past her on the narrow stairs, "Nnngh! ― make way! Big (angry twitter) you are!" Wiggling by and pushing the stocky woman's hip, Li threw off Berry's balance. She tumbled into the wall.

"Hey! Watch it, you yellow-bellied lizard! You're lucky I've got both hands full!" she hollered after the slender woman that bounded up the stairs.

"Li make big mistake! Li must hurry, bring sleeping powder to witch! Li in big trouble!"

And she was off into the upper floor. Berry snarled after her, then looked back to the anteroom's closed door. "Fine bunch of guests we got all of a sudden," she murmured. "Red's far too trusting with those damned gypsies. I'm going to do some questioning myself now―hey!" Li almost shoved her down the stairs again when she returned, carrying the vials from her cabinet in her arms.

Berry grunted, climbed the rest of the stairs, put the boards down and stared at the torn-up floor. The damage wasn't half as bad as she had feared. An hour's work, and a little cleaning up; not the disaster it had first appeared to be.

Berry's eyes moved to the door behind which Mirca slept. With surprising speed and soundlessness that one wouldn't expect from a woman of her bulk, she sneaked up on it. Her hand brushed over the folds of her skirt, and suddenly a dagger flashed in her grip.

Mirca groaned. Someone had just slapped her face. "Wrggl ― What's the m―" Had she overslept? Had she forgotten about an oven? There were many reasons for a slap in the face, at the castle. And often enough, it didn't stop with something as merciful as a simple slap. Before even opening her eyes, her voice took on a whiny tone ingrained by years of cowering. "Master! I'm sorry! I've fallen asleep! Not the whip―"

"Stop the act!" was the angry reply, followed by another, painful slap that hit her breasts. A hand grabbed her throat. It wasn't a man's hand, but it was strong all the same. Her eyes opened wide.

A raging, snarling woman, built like no woman she had ever seen before, stooped over her. Mirca's eyes darted around in panic. She hadn't recognized the room at first, but small pieces of memory came back and fell in place. Heavy weight rested on her chest. Breasts. Yes, the witch. The cell. The ... that house. Trapped in the floor. That big woman ― those chilly green eyes ―

"You? I didn't want to get stuck! It wasn't my fault! I didn't want to ruin the ―" she wailed, choking in the grip.

"Forget the damned floor! What do you want here, huh? Why have you come here at all? You're from the palace! You want to spy on us, admit it! Little dirty spy girl for the lord's guards, eh?" A dagger's point flashed before Mirca's eyes, and the flat side of the blade pressed coldly into her cheek. "Tell me the truth now, or I'll take your sight and your pretty face!"

Mirca's eyes filled with tears. "No! Oh please! I'm no spy for nobody! I'm just a serf, I didn't want any of that, oh gods! Not my eyes! Not my―"

"Hey! Mirca! Are you awake?" filtered through the floor.

Berry hissed a curse through clenched teeth and let go of Mirca's throat. She raised the blade one more time. "Not a word about that, all right? I'll keep an eye on you. You try anything funny, you'll bleed. You talk to anyone about this, you'll bleed, too." She angrily pushed the dagger back into its hidden sheath under her skirt.

"Miiiiirrrrrrrrcaaaaaa?! Come on! Wake up, sleepyhead! Don't make me come and get you!"

"I'm com―," she began, then she choked up, wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath before hollering back, "I'm coming!" She grabbed her clothes and staggered from the bed. Berry grabbed her arm, stopped her and forced the shaking blonde down to her knees. "Not. A. Single. Word." she repeated menacingly before she pulled her to her feet again and shoved her towards the door. Mirca fled the room. She scuffled down the stairs while Berry's cold eyes followed her distrustfully.

Chapter 10: Busting The Dinner

"What's the matter with you? I thought you'd be starved after sleeping for two days straight. Are you sick?" Yrba watched her and frowned.

Mirca kept her head down and poked the food on the half-full plate in front of her. "I'm just not hungry," she mumbled. Every now and then, she glanced fearfully at Berry.

They all sat around the dinner table in the living room, where usually the girls lounged about waiting for their guests. It had been a quiet day. The uproar at the castle, the mysteriously demolished house, the searches, the curfew ― nervousness had the townsfolk in its grip, and that had been bad for business at the bathing house. The girls didn't mind too much. Even a calmer week or two weren't going to put them at the risk of starving any time soon.

Red ruffled Mirca's hair and smiled. "Oh my. Running from the castle and all that must've caught up with you, no? Well, then this'll lighten your mood," she said and clapped her hands. "All right, girls. In celebration of our guests, I've had Li cook a special treat for us. Li? Bring in the chocolate pudding!"

Sylvia and the other girls groaned.

"What? You always liked―," Red began, puzzled.

There was a collective murmur to the theme of if I ever see another drop of milk.

Berry grinned across the table at Yrba and Red. "Hey, more for us then, eh?"

Li had quickly laid the table, and after the other girls had pushed their full bowls aside, only the clatter of three spoons filled the air.

And then there was a short, harsh thock, and suddenly Berry's dagger stuck in the table. Her chair tumbled over as she jumped to her feet. The other women jerked back, taken by surprise. She leaned in, slammed her big hands flat down on the table and took a deep breath of air.

"All right. All right! I've threatened Mirca, because I thought she was a spy for the guards. I held this very knife here to her face, and I'm sorry! Okay? I don't know what came over me. And yeah, Red, I feared you'd hire her and kick me out instead. I was wrong, and I'm sorry about that. She's a nice girl and she didn't deserve that I slapped and choked her. There! I said it. Are you all happy now? Are you?" She picked up her chair again, sat down heavily and hid her face behind her hands. Quiet sobbing came through her fingers. For a few moments, nobody moved.

Mirca stood up and embraced her, comforting Berry's face between her heavy breasts that bulged out as she dug the brunette's head into her cleavage. "Oh silly! Now I get it! You were scared of me!" She blushed. "My, I've been so stupid ... s―stu―" Suddenly her eyes widened, and she stared straight ahead. Her voice trembled as she hoarsely whispered, "Y―Y―Yrb―b―b ... it's starti―! A―a―ag―again! I don't ― I can't ―!"

Not just her voice shook now. Her whole body trembled as she let go of Berry, took an insecure step backwards and stooped, clutching her chest. In the sudden dead silence, the rending of her cloth's seams seemed awfully loud. Yrba pinched her eyes for her other sight and saw the glowing white fog of magical force rise from the floor and swirl and condense towards Mirca's breasts as their shape stretched from the bobbing, rounded cones into sagging, rapidly swelling orbs. She jumped to her feet, yelling, "Mirca! Outside! Hurry, out the back door!"