Yrba's Travels Pt. 02

Mirca turned to run, caught her foot on a leg of Berry's chair and slammed face down into the floor, except she didn't even stub her nose. Her ballooning breasts caught her, spread wide under her weight, then sprang back into their round shape and pushed her off the ground again. The rebound sent her in a sideway half-spin. With no cushions to catch her now, the back of her head connected painfully to the floor, she crossed her eyes and let go of her chest as the room before her began to spin madly and then ―

Yrba jumped the table and came down on the blonde like a very bosomy bird of prey, her arms outstretched, her clothes fluttering, her fingers like talons. She dove hands first into the tautening, throbbing uber-pumpkins of her pupil. The bulky masses barely budged under her weight.

That's not the right time to panic, the witch told herself over and over, clutching the areolae and nipples that hardened and swelled in her hands. Must. Keep. Them. Down! Constringere! ... Tranquilius! Constringere, damn you! Why won't ―

She squinted again. The last few wisps of white fog soaked into Mirca's body. Their sparkling light concentrated towards the stretching masses of the blonde's udders. Yrba tried to conjure at least some more for herself, and came up empty. Utterly, totally empty. The air around her remained clear. No white bolts, not even a faint, gray thread of power. Just her and her fingers clutching Mirca's ever-swelling orbs.

Oh heavens, she's sucked it all in! There's not enough magic left around for me to cast a wrapper on her, all that's left is inside her now ― I can't ―

Her fingers were slowly forced apart. The blonde's distending breasts barely cared about the witch's grip, and she was inch by inch losing out against the enormous pressure she desperately tried to wrestle down. Mirca stared at her as the white wall of boobs grew between them at an ever-accelerating pace, her eyes filled with begging and fear. Don't let me burst, pleaded her panicked gaze. The last threads of her dress' neckline ripped and slipped down around her.

The other girls backed away as Yrba's body gradually rose over the table top again. She was putting all her weight on the udders underneath her and yet, the rumbling, gurgling milk bags effortlessly lifted her up. Mirca's fear-filled face disappeared behind her growing orbs. The legs of the table screeched over the floor, pushed aside by the expanding breasts that measured more than a yard across.

No! I've not made it this far to end up crushed to the ceiling by boobs, dammit! Yrba silently groaned, wrestling with the heat and strength in her grip, trying to splice off a little bit for herself.

And then, all of a sudden, warm milk gushed out in two bubbling geysers between her fingers, and she sank down on top of Mirca as the load drained out through the nipples and the blonde's breasts returned to their supremely ample but manageable size of two resilient, bulging cones.

"What the ― where did ― huh?!" muttered Yrba as struggled off Mirca's slippery, milk-drenched body on hands and knees. "What did you ― how did you ―?"

"I―I―I don't know! First I thought I'd die, and then I thought that I didn't need to be ashamed anymore because it didn't matter any longer, and then I took a deep breath, and suddenly..." Mirca stuttered and babbled with her face glowing in a deep red. She struggled upright and rubbed the bump on the back of her head.

Yrba scrambled to her feet, reached up and grabbed the girl's shoulders. "Mirca, look at me. Are you all right? How many fingers am I holding up? Do you feel any pain, anywhere? In your head? In your breasts? Feel anything strange?"

The blonde gnawed on her knuckles and stammered, "N―n―no, it was only ― I didn't want to ― I almost, the warehouse, I remembered ― I was so afraid, I didn't want to bring down this house, too ― I ― oh Yrba, I didn't want to, really, I didn't―"

Her eyes darted around the room, she gazed at the toppled and shoved-aside furniture, the shallow pool of milk that had been a floor, at the huddle of girls cowering and squatting on the far end of the bench and the general havoc all around.

Mirca sagged to her knees and stooped. She tore her hair, covered her face with her hands and sobbed, "I―I've ruined the floor! It's all swamped with milk! Oh gods, I'm so sorry! I'm ― aieee! I'm half naked! Don't look at me! Just―Just give me a bucket and a rag, and I'll―"

Yrba put her hand on the blonde's trembling shoulders and stroked her gently. "Shh, dear. It's all right. Don't cry. Long as you're not aching, it's all right." The witch looked around. The whole room felt empty now. A faint pressure that had always been around, day and night, suddenly wasn't there any longer. She recognized that feeling, and she rubbed her hands in relief.

"Right, that's it; for the next few weeks at least, I'd say. Girls, you can come down from the bench. Li, no need to climb out the window. Local magic's all used up for now. Will be some time before anything like that can happen again. Must've been some pocket of remnant charge drifting through. Sorry about the floor, but it really wasn't her fault."

"Yrba," Red mumbled, "Tell me the truth. Did I look like that when you first hexed my pair? You know, when it went wrong?"

"Oh gods, no! You? Hah! You were even bigger!"

Red grew pale as old memories played in mind. Her hands reached for a chair. "Heavens―," she whispered as she slumped down on it.

Yrba gazed at the flustered woman, and then she chuckled.

"Had you going there for a moment, huh?" She broke into a laugh, and the nervous tension in the room that had mounted after Berry's confession and Mirca's explosive growth, suddenly was gone. Giggling, they all helped to put Mirca back on her feet and patted her down in a chorus of "It's all right, nothing happened, the floor needed a good wiping anyway," and "Oh silly girl, you don't need to be ashamed around us." Hanging her head, the blonde pulled glumly at her torn, dripping clothes. Strands and patches came right off.

"I guess there's nothing left to mend here," she sighed.

Li held up the tatters to Mirca's breasts, or at least she tried to look that way while she grinned ear to ear and eagerly groped at the melons. Her hands almost disappeared inside the soft pillows. Cocking her head but never letting the orbs out of her sight, she twittered into Jean's ear. The girl reciprocated Li's grin and translated.

"She said you should be glad. That dress was awful. Well, I guess, now that the worst has come to pass, that calls for ― a makeover!"

Mirca looked at the group of women and then shook her head in sadness.

"Me? Me?! Oh no, I could never wear such beautiful clothes like you, with all that lace and quillings."

"Oh really?" Berry laughed. "You dare to challenge us, huh? Girls, it's on! We'll make her look gorgeous."

Jean kept staring at Mirca's bare, heaving breasts that Li's little hands couldn't match. Her eyes wandered all over the toned body. "I don't think we could make her any more gorgeous if our lives depended on it."

"You'll see!" replied the bouncer. "Let's start with a good soaking. Girls, you know the drill! Charley, you scrub her dairy produce out the backdoor and join us later ― I don't want to hear a single word from you, tit princess! You'll do your chores like everyone else!" she added as Charlene drew an indignant face. "Jean, Sylvia ― firewood. I want the bath steaming. Get the boiler going. Li, bring your oils and scents. And I'll hook the water wheel to the pump and fill up the big tub. Once she's all squeaky clean," she smacked her lips, "then let's show her what we're good at!"

"But ― but I bathed just last month ―," Mirca protested weakly.

"Well, no wonder you give milk like a cow ― you smell like one! And they call our house unclean? I don't think so! Blondie, you'll never want to leave again once we're through with you! Come on girls, seize her!"

The four of them half-pushed, half-carried Mirca out of the room, to her flailing her arms and shrieking, "Yrba! Help meeeeee! I don't want to be drowned in ice-cold water again!"

"You wo―ooon't! They bathe differently here! Just let them do their jo―oob!" the witch waved after her and grinned. She turned to Red. "Mind if I leave you behind all alone and join them? I'm feeling a bit overdue myself."

The bawd laughed and pinched her nose. "Do I mind? Girl, if you don't take a dive in the bath right away, I'll throw you in myself! And give me those clothes! Now do I wash them, or burn them to get rid of the smell?"

Giggling and teasing, Red stripped Yrba down right in the kitchen. Even Charlene's accusing glances while she grudgingly cleaned out the puddles of milk on the floor didn't stop their playful banter.

To Be Continued.