Yrbas Travels Pt 08

Yrba's Travels, Pt.8 — The Living Cauldron

by

Paul Gerard

(a pen name)

~

Part 8 of a 12-part tale, laced heavily with lesbian encounters and strange transformations.

~

A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.

However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.

Thank you.

~

Altaerna — a world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.

The time of this story is similar to the 12th century of planet Earth.

~

Proof-reading:

*cough* uh, well, just by myself. Yes, I know, I really shouldn't do that. It's just difficult, finding someone willing to proof, and then that one having enough time at hand at the time when the text is ready. So, well, I sure hope you'll grin and bear what gaffes of grammar I have overlooked.

~

What happened so far:

Part 1 — Jailbreak:

Jailed in neighboring cells, two very different women are waiting for their execution: Yrba, the curvy chocolate-skinned raven-haired traveling gypsy witch, and Mirca, the towering muscled flat-chested blond servant girl. In a last desperate bid for freedom, Yrba feeds Mirca a whole gallon of enhancement potion and uses her swelling body to break down their cell's walls. And thanks to Yrba's prowess with magic, Mirca becomes mobile again. While they sneak through the nightly town, Mirca gets even with the man whose wrongful accusations sent her to death row by wrecking his warehouse with her rapidly growing breasts.

Part 2 — Under Soiled Doves' Wings:

The witch and her new companion can't make it out of town. Lucky for them, foxy copper-haired Red, an old friend of the witch, runs the town's brothel, and they manage to hide there from the guards searching the houses. An unexpected growth spurt in the confined hideaway ends with Mirca getting stuck and Yrba out cold. Over the course of the next few days, they recover and get acquainted with the girls. Mirca gets into a quarrel with Berry, Red's mistrusting bouncer, and becomes the focus of eastern beauty Li's fantasies. A dinner and a surprise confession lead to another eruption of Mirca's unstable body.

Part 3 — Tubs, Sponges and Soaking:

It's an all-girl event as Red's women climb over each other while they polish and shine Mirca's body in the brothel's huge bathtub, sudden milk burst included. The night brings a solemn peek into Mirca's troubled past, and the next day sees Yrba and Red desperately trying to salvage the last few drops of growth portion left in the witch's womb. Mirca embarks on a journey of discovery across Yrba's body, only to wear her mistress out to the brink of collapse. Yrba lets her curiosity get the better of her, prepares herself to repeat the experience, and in the process we found that her body has quite a few quirks of its own.

Part 4 — Altars and Virgins:

Li, Red's brothel's exotic eastern plaything, tries to teach Mirca the basics of fighting. However, their very own idea of 'way of the fist' ends up waking the metal goddess of the derelict temple they chose as their training ground. As the goddess' ephemeral gift for their 'sacrifice of virginity' fades (or rather,

shrinks back)

, so does their memory of the weird afternoon... Back in the brothel, Sylvia and Charlene coax Mirca into a game of 'how much can you take?' that ends with a milk-swept stairway, a few bruises and scratches and Yrba and Mirca moving out into the forest to 'get a grip' on Mirca's unpredictable expansion bouts.

Part 5 — Gold and Blood:

While the witch and her companion camp out in the forest, Mirca slowly learns to control her explosive chest. Li continues to teach her how to fight, with varying success. Against Yrba's better judgment, Red coaxes her into doing a 'boob job' on Francine, a young woman from the town despairing over her lacking physique. Mirca manages to beat Li in combat for the first time, and they pick up Yrba and return to Red's brothel just before an early snowstorm rushes by. A few nights later, Mirca joins Berry in running contraband, they end up in an ambush, another storm brews, and then things go to hell, fast and really, really bad.

Part 6 — The Road:

After Berry's demise, Red, Yrba and the girls learn that the brawny woman took many secrets to her grave. Her final words lead them to a cave filled with gold, swords and shields. Red buys Yrba's confiscated witch cart back from the guards. Yrba and Mirca take to the road to consult Yrba's former mentor, a wizard. On their way, they discover enchanted chain mail, have a chance encounter with a gang of blackmailing thugs who bring disturbing news from Red's brothel and a hint at a deus ex machina who may be more machina than deus, only to have that knowledge wiped from their minds again.

Part 7 — Among Wolves:

In her inimitable style, Mirca almost beheads herself, almost spikes her witch girlfriend with assorted sharp tools, wrecks their cart, grows another six inches during the winter, and has — under Yrba's guidance — her first time with Alric, a bard whom the amazon has dragged in from the frozen forests.

~

Part 8: The Living Cauldron

"Lying naked here in the shrine of your embrace

We touch the burning cauldron to your angel face"

—

Rick Springfield,

Tear It All Down

~

Chapter 36: A Dream Of Cows

~

Sunshine crept in through the slits in the log cabin's walls. The thin blades of light played over three figures, sleeping on the wolf pelts that covered the cabin floor. A naked woman rested on her back in the middle, with two other bodies flanking her. Her tall body's sensuous, smooth curves glowed in the warm light. Every now and then, she moved slightly in her sleep. Firm, strong muscles showed under her even skin at these moments, giving her the appearance of a dominating, yet feminine statue come to life. Compared to her seven feet of veiled strength, her companions were mere dwarves as they laid huddled in her muscular limbs' relaxed, almost nonexistent embrace.

The man to her right slept with his head against the soft, warm pillow of her right breast. He stirred in his rest and pulled up his thigh, snuggling closer to the tall young woman's strong leg around which he had wrapped his own legs.

The mature, curvaceous woman at the giantess' left side kept the huge girl's other, pumpkin-sized breast in the gentle embrace of her right arm, and her curly, jet-black mane covered half of the impressive milk pillow. Her dark, chocolate-colored skin was in stark contrast to the bright complexion of the man and the girl.

Her curvy yet robust five-foot-six frame matched the man's height, and even though both were asleep, their hands had met on the muscle-ribbed midriff of their living mattress who, even in her slumber, radiated enough body warmth for the three of them.

Mirca, the blond giantess, sighed and stirred ever so slightly in her sleep. Her eyelids twitched, and her lips pouted slowly. A shudder crept over her skin. The nipples on her breasts grew hard, and the huge jugs filled up from the inside, expanding with the deceiving slowness of a glacier creeping forward.

The growth of her headrest made Yrba, the Darkskin gypsy witch to Mirca's left, start to slip off the warm pillow. Her sleepy body pushed itself up again, and in doing so, her mouth brushed over the erect, strawberry-sized nipple. She didn't wake as instinct made her plump lips pout and nibble against the rough source of nourishment.

Another faint stretch, another stir and push, and now the hard, rough teat lodged itself firmly into the corner of the witch's mouth. In her sleep, Yrba moaned quietly and began to chew on the juicy knob, gently massaging the areola as her jaw moved up and down. Mirca sighed happily. Thick, sweet cream seeped from her nipple as the huge breast let down, and the white, warm rivulet collected on the inside of the witch's cheek. She didn't wake up then, either; she only smacked her lips and swallowed quietly every now and then when there was enough for a hearty gulp of nourishing liquid in her mouth, and that happened faster and faster.

Ung.

Slllp.

Smack.

Mmmmh.

Ung.

~

An hour passed, and still the three of them were fast asleep.

~

Help! Oh please, mighty Mirca, help us! We're so full, we need you to milk us. We're bursting!

The voice was begging and desperate, and everywhere at once. Mirca looked around. Lush green pastures stretched to the horizon, and a warm sun hung high in a sky of deep blue. The wind caressed her naked skin. All over the meadows stood white cows with huge black spots in their fur, their heads facing the tall blonde. The poor animals couldn't walk or even budge. Their udders were joined pairs of giant orbs, each a yard or more across, spreading their thin hind legs wide and lifting their hindquarters off the soft grass. Thick, swollen teats swelled left and right on the ground, their elongated shape bent sideways and sprouting from the bulge where the taut, constantly rippling skin met the flattened grass. The milk balloons kept on growing while Mirca stared.

Please, empty our udders!

wailed the chorus of voices in Mirca's head.

They consume us!

It was so clear, so obvious. She just

had

to do it. Mirca stepped up to the first creature and rolled her over. The wide-eyed, begging cow attached to the bulging udder had no weight at all, and as Mirca grabbed the soft, hair-covered ball, it throbbed a whole two feet bigger in her hands, and the cow was no more. The stretching skin smoothed over any sign of the mooing beast's shape, save for a flicking tail that sprouted where the two half-spheres met in a wrinkled seam.

Oh no! Hurry! I'm only an udder, and I'm getting fuller and fuller!

Squeaking and groaning, the four teats swelled larger now that they were free from the weight pushing down on them. Mirca crawled on top of the pair of yielding orbs and grabbed two of the warm, foot-long flesh rods that started to throb in her hands. From the corner of her eyes, she saw motion. Like drops collecting in a bowl, the other cows were drawn with their udders first towards the huge, bloated ball that Mirca rode upon. As they approached, their shapes were absorbed into their ever-growing milk factories, and they tumbled and bounced over the grass. The moment they touched the sphere that Mirca rode upon, they melted into the expanding orb, sending ripples over the spotted fur and accelerating its growth.

Mistress, we're yours!

rose the chorus of their hollow voices.

Empty us! Oh please, empty us before we burst!

The teats' tips grew egg-shaped, with a sharp ridge where their rear end met the veined pillar. Warm milk gushed out of a finger-sized hole and drenched Mirca head to toe.

More! More! It's not enough! Do the other pair, too!

The giantess wrapped her long, prehensile tongue around the third teat that bobbed right in front of her. The fountain that spewed forth coated her face with glistening liquid before she managed to draw the throbbing spout into her mouth. She closed her lips around the twitching rod and began swallowing the ample delicious stream that immediately gushed forth.

The fourth! Oh please, the fourth! So full — the pain — oh please, mighty giantess —

Mirca shifted her weight on top of the round six-yard ball that strained under the pressure of its warm load. She let go of the three teats —

No, mistress, don't stop! We're bursting! Hurry!

—

to reach for the fourth pillar of swollen, taut flesh that was now right between her wide-spread legs. Rising to her knees, she grabbed the two-feet pole and aimed the wrist-thick head at her crotch.

Oh divine milkmaid, your skills are many! The witch taught you well!

Mirca sat down on her haunches, engulfing the throbbing teat and undulating her vaginal muscles in the way that Yrba had shown her. It worked, it worked even better than when she had learned how to handle normal-sized men like Alric with her queen-sized pussy.

The others! The other three! They're so taut! Please, goddess!

She let herself fall forward again, bouncing gently into the giant orb. Her hands closed around the two teats to her left and right, and immediately their high-pressured content sprang skyward and showered down again in a warm rain of white. The third, deep in her mouth, twitched reluctantly, and Mirca squeezed gently with her thighs into the ever-growing orb.

Let us fill you with our strength now, mistress of all things milk!

Mirca's jaw was forced open, as was her already straining crotch, when the two teats swelled to almost six inches across. The sphere of black and white shuddered, and then sweet, warm milk filled her up by the gallon through mouth and clam. She took it in, took it all in as she herself rounded and bloated, growing bigger and taller. The skin of the deflating orb melted into her own as she outgrew it.

Shluuurp.

The last of the strange ball disappeared into her. Filled and sated, Mirca rested on her knees and the three orbs of her belly and breasts that reached outward as far as her arms. She squeezed into the resilient spheres, and the delight sent goosebumps over her skin of white that was littered with blotches of black. As she looked around, she saw the trees under her like blades of grass. Clutching the sloshing ball of her belly, she struggled to her feet. Her head poked into a layer of puffy white clouds, and she chased them away with a wave of her hand. Oh yes, she truly felt

tall

now.

The ground shook under her. The bedrock burst apart under her weight, and her feet sank into the pair of craters that her gargantuan weight punched right into the earth. Lava shot up around her legs as she slipped deeper into the molten belly of the planet. Its scorching heat was merely a warm and gentle brush against the skin of the giantess, and as the rough mountain ridge that remained between the holes that her legs sank into came closer to her crotch, well, Mother Earth obviously just

begged

to scissor with Mirca's dripping clam.

The rock made contact. Mirca let herself fall forward, creating deep bowls in the ground with her breasts and belly, for whole seas to fill them up later. Her hands grabbed at the mountain ranges in front of her. Mile-high walls of ancient granite burst in her grip as she dug her fingers into the rock and bucked her hips against the rough ridge that split her labia apart. Her secretions ran down the rocky slopes like slow-motion avalanches and filled the valleys with seas of goo.

She took a deep breath, inhaling and swelling on and on, until suddenly there was

no more air—

~

Chapter 37: Yrba's Share

~

Mirca gasped and opened her eyes wide in surprise. Yrba let go of the girl's nose and nodded to Alric.

"Told you it would work. I always do that when she's snoring —"

"I don't snore!" objected Mirca, yawning under her breath.

"Yeah,

right

." Yrba raised her eyebrows and smiled with cocked head. "You're bringing down whole forests, lumberjack girl, even in your heavy sleep."

The bard pushed against the one-yard bag of Mirca's breast that had spilled out sideways and covered his midriff under an avalanche of white, pliable flesh. The milk jug flattened under its own weight and reluctantly rolled away.

"

Heavy

's just the right word, I'll say!" he groaned, crawling to freedom.

"You're one to complain! At least you're in the same shape you had when you fell asleep! Now will you look at me?!" Yrba ran her hands over the round orb that her formerly narrow waist had swollen to. Her milk-filled potbelly's protruding navel made the half-sphere look like a third tit, and her original pair rested its now considerable weight on the bulge. Her breasts' glands still feasted on the ample supply of pre-made raw material coursing through her body. Yrba's chocolate-colored breasts had swollen to mammoth melons that reached firm and engorged from her chest. She was barely able to make her fingers meet as she wrapped her arms around her promontory.

"

Ungh!

" groaned the witch, rubbing her breasts' taut skin with her fingertips. "Oh my, I'm still swelling! I must've been bingeing on her milk like a sponge! My tits will be dripping all day!" She held the sides of her belly with splayed fingers and shook the wobbly orb. "That's gotta be three gallons at least. And I didn't even notice it! So, Mirca, what gives?"

"Oh, uh, aheh — oops?" Mirca giggled nervously. "Sorry, I — I had a weird dream with cows and then I drank them, and I grew, and I must've ... you're both okay, are you?"

Alric smiled and gently grabbed Mirca's left nipple. "Long as you give me the same tasty breakfast like you gave to her, I'm willing to endure a little bit of crushing," he replied and rubbed his thumb over the rough knob that filled the palms of his hands like half a lemon. Sitting cross-legged close to her side, he bent forward and licked up the first drops of the rich, nurturing cream that seeped from the many tiny ducts. He bit just hard enough into the thick teat to hold it in his mouth while his hands wandered to the underside of the heavy bag. As he lifted it up and closer to his body, the huge mass started to move under its own weight and spilled into his lap, filling it with its warm and malleable meat.

Mirca smiled and licked her lips as her sensitive skin reported the shape of the hard, hot thing that it ran against.

"Mmmmh!

Naughty

Alric! I can feel your poker from over here!"

Yrba rose to her feet, groaning with the effort, put her hands to her hips and stretched her back. "

Nnnngh!

Oh well, so we're all okay, and you didn't feed me to pieces." She slapped her hand on the tight skin of her belly and smiled. Her teeth flashed in the twilight of the cabin. "I'll just chalk

this

up as training for my spring brew. Now where did I put my

comfy

clothes?"

Mirca and Alric exchanged glances as Yrba turned her back on them, struggling with short steps towards the door. Mirca raised her eyebrows, and the bard smiled and nodded.

~

"Come on, now roll her over to me! —

Ungh!

" Alric tumbled to the floor, brought down by the huge weight that bumped against his hips.

"

Ooof!

" gasped Yrba. "

Whee!

You crazy lot! Careful with the udders!"

The witch laughed as she struggled playfully, being rolled helplessly over the tickling pelts on the floor between her two bedfellows. Two pairs of hands kneaded her breasts and belly, caressed her thighs and stroked her sex. Gasping for air, Yrba ended up on her hands and knees, with her legs wide and the weight of her enormous paunch well supported on the warm, rough furs on the floor.