Yrba's Travels Pt. 11

Mumble mumble mercy mumble spare me mumble.

"Another case of the mumbles?" laughed the blonde. "All right, then I'll have you my way. Come, climb up over my boobs and let me weigh you before I taste you."

Brina struggled over the hot, soft flesh, rolled on her back on top of the living, breathing pillows and reluctantly opened her legs, sliding forward until the back of her knees rested on Mirca's shoulders. Mirca leaned forward and sniffed at the petals that greeted her.

"Mmh. Nice. Is that a perfume? Was that your idea?"

Brina mutely shook her head.

"Whoever thought of that, I commend them." She shot a quick glance at the two other maids that started to grin and nod to each other. "And you, Brina, open up a bit more. My, you're shivering. You're not afraid, are you? Close your eyes, if it helps. It'll pass soon. I'll show you how gentle I am."

Her strong hands grabbed Brina's waist and pulled her closer. Mirca pouted and pecked a kiss on the folds behind which Brina's love button cowered, presumably in fear. The giantess raised her head and looked in the trembling young woman's eyes. Her voice was a whisper, and nobody but Brina stood a chance of hearing it.

"Do you want me to stop? I'm the goddess, they wouldn't dare to blame you if I let you go now," breathed Mirca, with her hot exhale brushing gently through Brina's pubes. She tenderly rubbed her cheek against the girl's thigh.

After a moment's hesitation, the handmaiden shook her head again.

~

The thin tip of the blonde's tongue slowly worked its way around the wrinkled folds until she felt the nub protrude into the small, round opening right in the middle of her puckered lips. A copious gob of her saliva heated the nervous button even further. Her tongue smeared the foam up and down the whole length of Brina's labia, which earned Mirca a delighted sigh.

The giantess' kisses wandered on, traveling over the inside of Brina's legs, returning to the slowly warming and swelling crotch of her servant, then again teasing and nibbling on the soft skin of the girl's thighs. Inch by inch, her restless lips homed in on the entrance. She bit gently into the chestnut curls and pulled on them with her teeth, and Brina squeaked in delighted surprise. The girl's hands reluctantly found her goddess' head and feebly tried to guide her mistress back to her longing depths.

Mirca aimed the tip of her tongue at the entrance of Brina's cave and opened her mouth. Her lips stretched around the fleshy dome of the girl's vulva. She hefted the trembling body firmly around the narrow waist and pushed her against her mouth, and then dug her freak tongue deep into the scented hole. Brina let out a sigh and shivered. Her tube quivered all around Mirca's tongue.

They must've rinsed the girl with rose oil, Mirca pondered. How considerate of them. I've got to try that, too. Mmmhh, tasty like a cream-filled treat... Let's see how deep can I get into that nice puckered ring at the end of her clam. Ooh, and what's that rough patch? My, she's got a huge one, easy to find.

She curled her tongue and rubbed the spot, squeezing the inner side of the clitoris. Brina squirmed and moaned on top of her, leaning against the towering breasts in her back. Her legs shook in convulsions. Moments later, Mirca's face was dripping with rose-scented liquid.

Whoa, that's a dew-laden flower all right.

She stretched her tongue long and went on ladling from the depths of the well that quickly filled up again. Brina just let it happen. She felt all of her body become limp, turning into jelly on that divine tentacle that dove into her far deeper than anything she ever had wrapped herself around before. The boobs she rested her back on rolled just a bit further apart. Her body slowly descended into the warm gulch between the huge bags until the pliable walls closed over her, trapping her upper body in their warm, soft embrace.

Mirca felt the whole body of the girl starting to shake, sending her breasts into quivering motions. Brina's legs wrapped around her head. Her heels drummed against the blonde's back and suddenly cramped. Another gush, accompanied by the whole body tensing up as it stuck buried in her cleavage, then the legs limply fell away and slipped from Mirca shoulders.

The giantess pulled her tongue from the emptied snatch. "Wow," she uttered. "Could someone dig her out from between my breasts? Wouldn't want to smother that tasty morsel down there."

~

Chapter 58: The Priest's Staff

~

The last of this day's visitors left the throne room, and the maids closed the doors from the outside. Mirca was alone with her priest.

"Carwon?"

"Goddess?"

She eyed him hungrily, resting her chin on her hand and her elbow on her own breast.

"I'm feeling all naughty today, and I've been thinking... come here, Carwon."

He stepped in front of her, his head now barely visible over the white promontory of her breasts.

"Don't play dumb with me, Carwon. Here, by my side where I can reach with my hands. Now drop your clothes."

He gulped. "No, I don't think you want —"

"— To see you naked? Of course! And that's just the beginning! I've not forgotten about that moment in your room, and I've never before seen a man built like you. And if the girls are too scared to have fun with me, then you'll have to make do! Come on, whip out your naughty dangly bit! I want to play with it!"

His toga dropped to the floor. She raised her eyebrows and smacked her lips. "Good. Mmmh. Come here."

Mirca turned to him as far as her weighty anchors allowed her to. Her hands shot forward and grabbed his hips. She effortlessly lifted him up.

"Goddess, what—," he gasped.

"Oh shut up! Your goddess is going to feast on you tonight!" She laughed and licked her lips. "Let's turn this noodly appendage al dente."

Raising Carwon high over her head, she put her head in her neck and held him with his limp penis dangling over her face. She pouted and lowered his glans, still shrouded in foreskin, towards her puckered lips.

"Queen—hhhhaah!"

Shlurrrp.

Her lips closed tightly and locked into the groove behind his glans as his foreskin slipped back and the head bulged into her mouth. Her tongue coated his hot skin with saliva and tickled around the distended hole in the tip. She lowered him deeper and gobbled up all he had to offer.

"Uhn goddess," stammered Carwon, trembling in her grip.

Sllllp. Her lips ran over the whole length as she lifted him out of the warm abyss of her mouth.

"If you call me that one more time, I'll bite!"

Shlurrrp, and back into her mouth she drew him, her teeth nibbling playfully along the soft rod while her lips munched along and neared the root. Her cheeks fell in, and Carwon felt the stream of his blood as it rushed through his bulging veins and into the bloating head.

"G—Mirca, please..."

Mirca drew even stronger at his crotch. The soft skin of his balls started to slide, crawling over her wet lips into her mouth. She opened the meaty ring of her puckered lips even wider, and one by one, his balls slipped through and joined his growing rod in her huge, warm maw. Her tongue danced and slithered through the fold between his dick and his sack. Her lips squeezed rhythmically around the root of his package, and then Carwon couldn't fight the primal urges of his body any more.

Nature took over for good. With every racing beat of his heart, he grew deeper into her mouth. With Mirca's size dwarfing Carwon, there was much mouth his organ needed to grow into. Her mammoth tongue lashed and strangled around the distending rod, squeezing and sliding, wrapping his erection in like a corkscrew. She slowly lowered him deeper into her warm gullet, then bounced him up and down a few times until she raised the throbbing rod back out, all the while sliding her lips along the veined length of his pole.

"Mmmmircaaaaahh..."

Mirca noticed the sudden throb and pulled him out completely before he reached his threshold. The glistening glans slipped from her lips. She smiled and admired her soon-to-be-lover's new size.

"Oh Carwon," she sighed happily, "you're big now! Big enough for me! Oh, I must have that up my crotch."

"I —," he stammered, his face bright red by both arousal and embarassment.

Mirca cut him off right there. "Your goddess demands that you to put that thing in her, right now," she purred as she put him back down on his feet.

She wiggled around, pushed out her ass and spread her legs, reaching back to pull her buttocks apart. Her labia parted, revealing the dark, still tight hole into her hungry vagina. Leaning forward into her breasts, she bent her knees until her gate was at a comfortable height.

"Well?" she moaned. "Climb on the divan and mount me! You'll fit nicely now, man-bull!"

"I m—must not — "

"My rules! I make them! From now on, the priest must screw the goddess whenever she demands it!" she barked into her own cleavage.

Jingle. Grit.

"No, I — that's not —," he stammered and backed away, with his member still bobbing and dripping.

Mirca fumed. Her body itched with all the anger of rejection and unsatisfied desire as she straightened up and stared at him over her shoulder.

"What? My lips can blow you, but my snatch's not good enough for you? Is that it?"

Groooaaan.

"You think I haven't noticed how you get off I-don't-know-how-many-times when you knead my tits, but you dare not put your pole in my crotch?!" she growled, standing akimbo, tied to the two mammoth orbs of her breasts with her head turned sideways to glance at him over her shoulder from the corner of her eyes.

Streeeeetch.

"G—goddess, please—," he gulped, staring at the straining golden chains around her breasts. The first rings had already ripped and laid strewn across the floor.

"What?! Look me in the eyes if you're talking to me and stop backing away!" Mirca hollered.

Spang — tinkle — jingle. More little golden ring fragments showered the throne room in front of Mirca. She didn't notice, with her angry gaze still aimed at the recoiling vizier.

Gnooouurrrrbb, growled her breasts as their flesh spilled over the tables and the rising shapes flowed slowly along the marble floor.

"You're expanding!" he howled and made a bolt for the door of his room. Mirca twitched. Her head spun back to her front. Her gasp of surprise turned into a shocked curse.

"Oh just ... oh shit! Oh — ooouuuuhnnnnmmmm!" All the itching of her overexcited crotch suddenly shot up along her spine, washed over her mind, met the heat of her anger, ignited and exploded into her chest. Her breasts' skin billowed out, rubbing along the floor and bubbling up from the inside as the gargantuan avalanche of breast flesh spilled forth.

Creeeeaaak — crunch, and the tables carrying her breasts collapsed under the multiplying weight. Devoid of any support now, the centers of Mirca's boobs dropped down to the floor. The shockwave sloshed over her skin like over the surface of a pond after a particularly heavy boulder had splashed into it. Bobbing and bounding, her nipples shuddered to erection.

As the first throb tapered, she sat at the end of two oblong quivering melons, nine yards long. And just as Mirca caught her breath after the climax that the stretching nerves in her skin had given her, the next rush of fire tickled up inside her body.

"No! No, it never — it can't — I never grew twice — I — oh gods! Carwoooooon! Help me! It's happening again!" she howled over her shoulder.

The next pulse tripled her volume. Her breasts flowed down the two steps that separated the elevated throne area from the front part of the room, and the kneading and stroking that this edge gave to her swelling flesh quickened the arrival of the next pulse.

Nothing this horrible should feel so good, she managed to think, sweat-covered and exhausted, before the next firestorm started in her womb. Her fingernails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists.

No! Got to — hold it — in —

The feeling crawled up from her belly, like a hiccup from hell that just wouldn't let up.

Nuh—uh, n—nnn—unnnnnhhh—

She lost the fight as her sensitive skin stroked along the first pair of pillars. The next growth spurt sloshed into her, in one huge killer wave. Her breast's skin billowed like a sail in a gust, and her flesh rushed into the empty hall.

Mirca clutched the wall of white skin in front of her. Two-thirds of the huge floor now were filled with, well, her, and the top of her tents was halfway up to the ceiling, too, shaking and stretching still. She was bigger than ever before, bigger than even when she had trained with Yrba, bigger than she ever thought possible. And it felt so good. There was not a single twitch, no stinging, no pricking. Her breasts had been huge to start with, and the abundant skin effortlessly made room as it stretched along.

And it showed no sign of stopping now. Her breathing quickened, and with every gasp, the fire in her crotch blazed brighter and rose further along her midriff, clawing its way to her chest. Three throbs and mind-wrecking orgasms, each one stronger than the last, each time growing bigger, and now the fourth bubbled through her, it would make her swell larger than all previous ones combined, and then —

I'll fill up the whole valley! Gods, I can't — I'll grow on until I burst!

"Carwon! Where have you gone?" she wailed.

By the time she had finished the question, he was back in the hall, struggling with a pair of fur gloves.

"Goddess! I'll help you soon, just hold on! I just hope this works —," but this last part he just mumbled under his breath while he began gesturing in the air.

~

It felt different from the magical net that Yrba had always used. The touch of this magic was like a huge fur rug being dragged over and between her breasts, tickling and itching as it engulfed the vast expanse of skin all the way. Goose bumps ran back and forth over her skin, which seemed to grow thicker and more resilient. She gasped and panted, and the pauses in her flying breath became shorter and shorter. Her breasts had stopped growing, but now the pressure in them rose and rose.

"Carwon! Carwon, you come here and plug me this instaaaaaant! Oh heavens! Relief! I can't stand it anymore!"

She grabbed and clawed at her breasts, but that only heightened her arousal even more and didn't bring the deliverance she'd hoped for. Deep inside her crotch, the itching was worst. She couldn't reach that spot, not with her fingers, and there was nothing around she could've impaled herself upon. It itched, a most irritating, infuriating itch that made her angry, and the anger made her swell, and that made her itch more, and — she'd just grow on, until — except —

"Carwwwoooooonnnnn!"

"Goddess!"

The fire in her womb wandered up and up, inching closer to her breasts, no matter how hard she fought it. She needed a pipe, laid right into her, spewing lots of liquid to extinguish her embers.

"On the divaaaaaahhh—divan! On your back! Hurry! Whip out your rod again! Quickly! Let me sit ooooohhh—on it!"

"I can't get it up! Not like that!"

"I didn't ask you to! Down! Now!"

He slid into place beneath her. Mirca stepped over him and sat down on his hip, with her round bottom pinning him to the divan. She blindly reached around her breasts and ran her hands up his thighs, fishing for his dangling pole with both hands. It was still slippery with her spit, and after a few quick rubs, it showed promise. Another few gentle squeezes and strokes, and then she grabbed it with one hand around the root and cupped the glans, aiming for her crotch.

She lifted her hips until the hot glans slipped in between her outer labia, and then she slowly sat down again. The long, fat pole stretched her insides even though it was half-erect at best. Its lack of ultimate stiffness didn't matter, its girth served the purpose already. She exhaled in delight as she engulfed him deeper and deeper until she felt her groin making contact with his body. The gobbled-up prick quickly grew stiffer and thicker, and it reached all the itching spots one by one as it wandered up her cave, quenching her irritation.

But it didn't quench her desire. Each grinding of her hips on him sent another stretching, distending pulse into her nipples. The areolae domed out, their swelling accompanied by a deep gurgle. Soon. Soon! I'll have release, and they'll stop growing.

"Ooooh yes! Yes! Nooooooowwwww!" she moaned and cramped. He grabbed her waist, his hands still stuck in the fur gloves. She felt the touch all over her breasts and at her body at the same time, and how his dick throbbed inside her.

His semen spurted out, even against the death grip of her vagina. The biggest pulse of excitement yet arced through her thrumming boobs. The lightning of lust struck into the mighty nipples and caused them to pulsate bigger one last time. Hundreds of finger-sized holes flared all over their rough skin. The sea of milk sloshing inside her breasts stormed through the wide-open ducts. Her fluids sprayed out in a waving curtain reaching the roof. The flood covered the floor in seconds and began to rise inside the huge room until the side doors bursted open and discharged the white deluge all over the main stairs and out over the forecourt. Convulsing, she collapsed on top of him while her breast sprayed on and on, deflating slowly.

"Maids! Maids, this is the moment!" Carwon yelled. "Come and help the queen!"

"The maids? What about the m—," Mirca shrieked, and after a short gasp her voice dropped through the octaves to a throaty "mmmh! Oooh! Whoaaahh!" before it ended in panted moans and grunts.

All she saw in front of her was the towering wall of her own breasts. All that she felt were almost a hundred hands with splayed fingers, all leaning into her malleable flesh around the edge where her sagging, blimp-sized breasts rested in the foot-high milk sea. She turned her head. Left and right, the last girls moved into position, their faces filled with austerity as they prepared to fulfill their sacred service for the first time in ages.

The first girls to her sides pushed deep into the soft skin, and like a long wave, their neighbors did the same. Mirca's mountainous breasts pulled at her ribs, and she began to swing back and forth, faintly at first and then farther and farther as the girls picked up the resonance of the wavy swaying.

"Mmmh. Mmmh. Mmmh! Hwoooahh! Yeeees! Uhhhng! Oh! My! Gooaadddddsss!" howled the breast-bloated giantess. Each time a wavefront ran into her areolas, the nipples bulged, soared upwards and gushed a massive torrent. The maids kept their pace, in perfect synchronization, until inside Mirca's breasts a single riptide of milk sloshed back and forth, shooting yard-long bolts of liquid from her nipples on the far side and lifting her up and off her feet when it stretched the roots of her boobs and then reflected back from her chest. Carwon held on to her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rode her, penetrating deep into her dripping pussy each time the couple came down on the divan again.

Her breasts emptied, albeit deliciously slow. Exhausted and still clutching her priest's oversized manhood in her love muscle, she finally sat on the divan. The maids, their white clothes no longer white but drenched through and through and clinging transparently to their bodies, still rhythmically pushed her boobs, but they no longer need the whole staff of girls for it. Those no longer on "shoving duty", as Mirca called it in her mind with a little giggle, dropped their clothes and struggled naked onto the slippery shoulders of the ring of "shovers". They leaned forward, splayed their arms and —