Yrba's Travels Pt. 08

"Heh — wheee, oh heavens, let me catch my breath for a while!" she panted. A hand — small, by comparison, so it must've been Alric's — kneaded her meaty buttocks and pulled them apart. The weight of his body bore down on Yrba's back.

"What did you do to me?" he whispered in her ear. "I've made love to Mirca any which way you told me to, but I still can't resist you. I want you, now! Oh please, let me —"

She smiled with closed eyes, reveling in his caresses as he ran his hands over her three orbs again and again. "Yeah, right. Tempting, though I don't think you really want to ride me bloated cow now, do y—"

She opened her eyes wide. Thick, hot and throbbing, the slippery tip of the bard's engorged member parted her outer labia.

"—ooouuuhh! Oh yes, you do! Oh yes! Mmnnngh! Haaaaah!"

Alric plowed deep into her, while his hands wandered over the witch's hips and on over her wide potbelly, securing a firm grip at the onset of her paunch. She was tight inside, the wet cave of her vagina being compressed by the milk bloat in her belly, and the bard's strong tool rubbed against all the right places.

"Come on, Yrba!" smiled Mirca as she clambered to her feet. "You spent the last nights just watching and directing him and me, so it's only fair if you get — oh yes, you're doing great, Alric! She's making that face again!" The tall girl bowed down and cupped Yrba's cheeks in her hands, lifted the witch's head, leaned in and kissed her long and hard.

Yrba's eyes remained half-closed as finally Mirca's tongue slipped out of the witch's mouth. The young woman smiled at the absent stare. "He's got the right rhythm, doesn't he, Yrba?"

"Mmmhhh...hmmm—" panted the gypsy, half delirious.

Mirca's fingers wandered down over her mentor's collarbones and circled the soft mountains of Yrba's breasts. The rough, hard, almost black nipples dug into her palms and sprayed white wetness.

"Heh, see how your chocolate melons dangle! Now who needs milking?" Mirca put down two buckets in front of the brown-skinned woman and reached forward.

"Hhuuuunnngghh — I do—oooh! Oh yes! Oh how I do! Ooooh! Uuunnnn—!" stammered Yrba with half-closed eyes.

"That's a lot of milk waiting!" smiled Mirca, holding Yrba's swollen pumpkins in her big hands and squeezing them to the rhythm of Alric's thrusts. The witch didn't reply. She rocked back and forth, and the only thing that filled her mind was the thought of spending.

~

"Now at least you can see your feet again," smiled Alric, spooning up on Yrba's sweat-covered body while they rested on their sides. She nodded, and her head kept on dangling for quite a while.

"Oh — yes, I — damn! That was — good— squee!" She reached between her legs and patted Alric's erection. "Doesn't tire easily, eh?" Yrba sighed. "Still, I need a break right now. Maybe impale me again later." Her gaze turned to the giantess who rested on her side in front of the couple.

"Oh Mirca, look at you! You're one to talk about milking! Let's take your size down a notch or two, too. You know the drill, darlings."

She groaned and struggled upright. Her belly still showed, and her breasts were still heavy, but at least Mirca's ministrations had relieved her of two buckets full of milk. She stepped over the tall girl's legs and rummaged in the corner. When she returned, she handed one of a pair of funnels in her hands to the bard as she knelt down in front of Mirca. The witch ran her hand over the brimming bags and squeezed the taut skin.

"Oh yes, you're full of it, too! Alric, keep the nipples well in the funnels, or we'll get spray-painted walls. Come on, Mirca, get up."

The giantess rose to her haunches, put her hands to her hips and stooped slightly, letting her heavy breasts dangle down. Yrba and Alric each took one of the warm, udder-like bags in their hands and aimed the nipples into the two receptacles. The gypsy witch stroked over the sensitive skin and ran her fingertips in circles around the lemon-sized nipples, every now and then squeezing the dish-sized areola. Alric followed suit.

"Mmmmhh. Mmmmoooooohhh!" Mirca moaned playfully. "I likes."

She jerked. "Hold on, I wanna try something—"

Yrba raised her eyebrows. "Mirca, I absolutely do not want a milk shower in here now!"

"No, no! I mean, I, maybe, I don't have to — you taught me how to wrap them up, but, I think, I can wrap them up in places only."

"What? In places? What in the five heavens' name are you—"

"Loog!" mumbled the tall blonde with pouted lips, and focused.

Oooh—kay, don't draw all the skin in, I want to — like, like a sorta ring around a barrel, just, not so soft like they're now, more like ... yes, and up here over the nipples, have it tauter, pull it up, and, a little less sag there, and ... The heavy bag of flesh and glands trembled in Yrba's grip, and the hissing and bubbling of milk spraying from the swollen nipples grew louder. She strained her eyes, but there were no sparkles from the ethereal realm.

What kind of weirdness is that? She can't have muscles in there, it's got to be magic, but then why — why can't I see it?!

"Wow," gasped the bard. "Yrba, do you see this?!"

The witch nodded. "I see it. I just can't believe it."

Mirca's breasts changed. They had changed often over the course of the weeks, and both Alric and Yrba had become used to — and enjoyed — their various incarnations. Their range went from reasonably human, with a delicious and nicely rounded shape akin to a bulging cone that stood proud from the tall young woman's chest, to the voluminous, heavy, yard-huge bags that overflowed hands and arms softly and gently, offering warm pillows one wanted to drown in. Apart from the odd growth sprint or two, Mirca had gained good control over her jugs.

This was new. Both of Mirca's helpers had a hard time keeping the nipples aimed at the buckets that rapidly filled up while the giantess played with her own body, and the soft bags in the witch's and the bard's grip became temperamental and lively.

The melons tautened. They didn't shrink — if their changing shape altered their volume at all, then only for the bigger. Their soft shape grew semi-firm. The bulge that had amassed around the nipples wandered higher and spread over the dangling length.

No ding-dongling around, wished the giantess. Her body obeyed.

The skin along the top of her breasts shrunk just far enough to lift the two elongated globes, making them jut out instead of sagging down, and then their circumference shrunk just a bit around the middle and the root, filling and squeezing the superhuman volume into an elongated, erect bulge. Mirca's gushing nipples pointed straight out now, and the undersides of her assets rounded and smoothed, creating only a very tiny fold on her ribcage to support the weight of the proud mammaries.

Yrba gulped.

"Charlene would be crying her eyes out, about now," she muttered as the change slowed down and the cascades of milk subsided. She put the full, heavy buckets aside.

Mirca raised her arms and shoulders, ran her hands through her hair and turned her torso left and right, sending the resilient balcony of her bouncing bullet breasts swinging.

"Huh? Huh? How d'you like them? Look, they're big and proud! And they feel so — so strong now! Oh, you've got no idea just how firm and strong they feel now! Why, I dare you two to sit on them!"

~

Chapter 38: The Witch's Promise

~

Yrba smiled and stroked the firm underside of Mirca's elongated breasts while she dried the milk-dripping skin. "Let's not overdo it, Mirca. My, seems you're trying to make our poor bard's tool pop without even touching it. Oh, this reminds me —" She climbed the three steps to her caravan, embedded into the cabin's wall, only to return moments later with a small box of potion-filled glass tubes in her hands. Rolling her shoulders, she continued:

"After last night, I guess there's not much left about cocks that I, or Alric, could teach you, Mirca. And, as I recall, I promised our songsmith an inch or two afterwards, for his heroic efforts."

The bard stared first at his raging hard-on, then at the long, silvery needle that the witch took from the wooden box. "I think I'm q—quite h—happy with —," he stammered uncertainly.

Yrba knelt down by his side and put her warm hand on his shoulders, pushing him down on the furs.

"Shush. Hold still," she whispered and ran her forefinger's tip over his lips. She put the box down on his naked chest.

Mirca frowned. "We don't have any of your teen-cure left, Yrba."

"Tincture. Yes, I know." A cork squeaked as the witch opened one of the vials. "I much prefer the tincture, because I'm lazy and it's so easy and versatile. Doesn't mean I'm inept when it comes to the herbs and potions."

She counted the drops falling from the slim tube.

"Just got to be careful, this is strong stuff, and it's instantly permanent." Yrba patted Alric's thigh. "Don't you worry, I know what I'm doing."

~

"Ouch!"

"Oh quit whining! I'm doing this as gently as I can!"

"Well, when I joked about that extra inch, how could I have known I was asking for a tattoo on my valuables —"

"Oh, so now you're happy with one single extra inch? You think I'm going through all this effort to give you just one damned single inch more?"

Yrba drew up her eyebrows and gave him a look. She tapped the point of the thin silver needle into the small puddle of violet liquid on the earthen plate and continued to dot around the first inch at the root of Alric's pecker.

"You'll be thankful once I'm done," she smiled.

He clawed into the wolf pelts on the floor, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Nnnngh! I sure hope so!"

The witch didn't turn her head from the limp rod that she slowly twisted and turned to complete the spiral of thin lines covering part of his dick's skin.

"Sorry? I wasn't talking to you, big Al." She stooped over his manhood in her fingers, gently rolling her thumb over the glans. "Yes, little one, now we're ready. It's time for you to grow big and strong. Mirca?"

"Uh —"

"The lips only. No tongue, no teeth. Like I showed you. Suck hard."

Mirca knelt down by his feet and leaned forward. Her breasts, firm and full, slipped up along Alric's hips while her mane covered his groin. Warm lips sealed tightly around his glans, and Yrba held the bard's semi-hard dick until Mirca's pouted, O-shaped, wandering lips touched her fingers. She let go, and the giantess sucked the rest of Alric's flaccid pecker into her mouth.

"Mm—mm?" mumbled the tall girl, with her head down on the bard's hips and her buttocks rising high in the air.

The witch's fingers rubbed and kneaded Alric's lower midriff. "Just suck at it. You'll know when it starts."

"Mm—hm."

"Haaannnnh—!" Alric howled in heat. The sudden vacuum in Mirca's cheeks sent hot, prickling waves into his flesh as his blood rushed into the swelling rod. Veins bulged on his pole, and the skin stretched tight while his red-swollen glans rode higher, rubbing against the ribbed roof of Mirca's mouth.

And it rode on.

And on.

"Gnnmmmppffuuuah—!"

Mirca jerked up as the hot head finally pushed against her tonsils. The first few inches of his glistening cock slipped out of her mouth. Where the tiny dots of Yrba's potion had been tightly packed before, they now spread over the first three inches. Alric propped himself up on his elbows and watched in disbelief.

"The gods and all the heavens," he whispered as the giantess slowly raised her head and released inch upon inch upon inch of his engorged organ.

Mirca's lips finally slipped into the rim below the glans and held him for a few moments before her tongue wormed out along his frenulum to guide the last inches from her mouth. Alric's breath grew quicker.

Yrba smiled. "Well? Ain't so bad now, is it?"

The bard's cock stood upright with a slight curve towards his chest. Three extra inches showed at the root, their skin slightly violet in color, and the whole nine inches of firm cock throbbed and bobbed. The witch wrapped her fingers around him and felt the strength caught inside.

"Two nice fat inches across. The ladies are going to love you even more. Care to give me another sample of your seed, Al?"

He nodded mutely, gasping for air. Yrba's fingers slid up until she held his rod by the swollen, red head. "Mirca, use your tongue around the shaft."

The blonde leaned in and pouted her lips, almost touching him. Her tongue crept out like a pink octopus' tentacle and wrapped a whole turn around. The agile, slippery muscle bulged and squeezed in a frantic rhythm, and the tip of her tongue dug into the fold where the underside of his dick met his sack. Alric wheezed.

"Oh heavens! Mirca, you know I can't hold it when you do this — Haaaaah—!"

"Ymma?"

"Oh, you're doing fine, dear," smiled the witch. Rapid white squirts collected in the small vial in Yrba's fingers. When they subsided, she let go of the twitching cock.

"Well, Alric, consider your debts paid. Mirca, now he's yours."

The bard's rod kept throbbing in the wriggling wrapper of Mirca's tongue as the girl used her long muscle skillfully to draw Alric's strangled, pulsing dick in between her warm lips. A dream-like expression softened Mirca's face while she continued milking and licking at his hot, rigid flesh, and the bard ruffled her golden hair, his body twitching every now and then.

~

Chapter 39: Hibernation's End

~

Snow still covered the meadows and clearings, but the sun ate at it with every passing day. First patches of green appeared, and the other signs of spring grew stronger, too. The road called again.

"Heave!" growled Yrba through clenched teeth and pressed her shoulder against the rough wood. Together, the three of them pushed against the caravan. A gap, filled with the shadows of branches against the backdrop of a bright blue sky, grew bigger over their heads as the box on wheels separated creakingly from the cabin built around it. The carriage rolled on for a few yards before it came to a rocking halt.

"Right. Mirca, you go ahead and clear a path to the road. Al, you wrap up the pelts and the other stuff from the hut. And I —"

She stood akimbo and eyed the coach, sighing, "—I'll see if I can make this grimy wreck presentable."

Soon enough, the deft strikes of Mirca's axe echoed through the woods. Alric tied a knot in the rope in his hands and then looked up from the pile of wolf skins he was busy with.

"Yrba, don't you think we should help her?"

The witch kept on running her brush up and down over the planks and smiled as she replied, "Oh, I think we'd just get in the way. Once she gets going —"

"Huuuuwaaarrrnngh!"

The sound was a mixture of a bull's roar with a large helping of grunting bear thrown in for good measure. Wood yielded to the unleashed force.

Crack — Creeeeak—crunch.

Yrba chuckled. "My goodness, I was going to say, 'with her axe,' but it seems these days she's happy with pushing trees over bare-handed. No, you better stay out of her way when she's reveling in her strength like that."

"Hrrruuuunngh!"

Crick. Cre—eak. Crackle. Groooooaaaaan. — Swooosh. — Thud.

Alric shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere near her right now for sure. That's the girl who hugged me last night?" He gulped.

~

The caravan stood on the dirt road that led down to the valley. The fresh paint on the outside wasn't quite dry yet, but the horse was harnessed and now the time had come for the trio to go their separate ways. Mirca's imposing body glistened with sweat, and her thin clothes, covered in streaks of dirt, clung transparently to her skin. She smelled of resin and salt and still combed pine needles from her hair. The giantess laughed as she rolled and kneaded her well-padded shoulders.

"Oh my, I couldn't believe how much I've missed the lumbering! I don't know, it seems so much easier now than the years before." Sniffing her armpits, she added, "Gods, I need a bath now, and fast! Eeek! Ooh! Need to get rid of all those sticks and twigs and needles! I feel like a stack of wood!"

She jumped up and down and plucked at her clothes' neckline, fumbling with the string that crisscrossed over her chest. The dress parted as the knot finally gave in, and she hefted her liberated mams and pulled them apart, spreading the warm, tight crevice of pliant flesh to shake splinters and needles from the funnel of her cleavage.

Alric chuckled. "There's a nice river for that, in the next valley. Follow the road by its side downstream for a mile or two, and you'll find a ford, too. From there, it's another day to the next village." His face darkened. "So that's it," he sighed and shook his head as he gazed on the two so very different women, standing side by side in front of him.

Yrba nodded. "Well, bard, a day's walk or two towards where we came from, and you'll reach a village, too. They don't have much, but you've got a good chance of bartering some of your share of wolf skins for food and a place for the night. Another day, and you'll find a bigger village. And if you encounter some inquisitive travelers — well, I'll just say, you better be careful about what you tell to whom."

Alric smiled. "Same to you! You better not mention my name in the next town in your direction. Especially not to a certain Caroline, or her husband!" He hesitated. "Come to think of it, the town after that, be careful around Sarah, she's running the tavern. And, uhm, Georgina, she's a maid at the Riverfork Inn, and ... oh, that other one, she's a minx with braided brown hair, I don't know, she never told me her name, but she's got a birthmark on the inside of her thigh—"

Yrba prodded his arm and smirked. "You ladykiller, you! Oh, all right, we'll keep mum around women with desperate longing in their eyes when they ask for a certain bard." She patted his crotch with her cupped hand, and he twitched. The witch laughed. "Be careful with that new trunk of yours. The lasses are bound to come running after you now!"

Alric hugged her. She drew him closer, squeezing her sizable melons against his chest, and rubbed her thigh between his legs.

"Thanks for everything," she whispered in his ear. "You're a good guy."

"Me? Oh come on! I'm a bad apple ruining the ladies, haven't you been listening?"

"You're restless like me, that's all. You didn't promise them to stay, did you?"

He kissed her earlobe as his hands wandered down over her back and grabbed her round buttocks.

"No, never. They knew I'd be gone in the morning."

Yrba clenched her thighs around his leg and rubbed her crotch on the rough cloth of her skirt.

"See? Mnnnnnghh. You're honest, and that's good enough for me. I had almost lost faith in men before you came along."

"And I almost stopped believing in magic," he replied as they both reluctantly let go.

~

"My turn now!"

Mirca's hands grabbed Alric under his arms. She lifted him effortlessly up to her face, planting her lips on his as she slanted backwards, carrying his weight with ease.

"Whoa—mmmmppf—!"

Alric's body sank into her yielding, foot-deep cleavage as she wrapped her arms around him. They kissed, and the bard closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the giantess' embrace. She smelled deliciously of earth and forest, and she enveloped him with the strength of a dryad sprung from a tall oak tree that held all the might of centuries in her body.