Yrba's Travels Pt. 05

"She's so greedy!" moaned the giantess. "Won't she grow too big? Mmmmhh—ooooh! Unnngh! She's emptying me!"

"Don't you like it?" smiled the witch.

"Uh, yes! Ooooh! Oh heavens! Now I know why you — and the girls — oh gods, I'm spending like a waterfall! She can't stow all that! I'm blowing her up! She'll burst! Yrba, please! Look at her! She's like a giant ball! You've got to —"

Yrba's fingers made the rounds over the three balloons on Francine's body — two one-foot milkbags and a two-feet udder of a belly that pressed against the witch's midsection. She gently probed the pressure inside the stretching, swelling orbs and grinned.

"Oh, I think she's good for quite some more! Don't forget it'll shrink down again when it finally settles into flesh. Give her your fresh nipple now. Time to give her a little counterweight for her new dairy. Plug the other tit in her mouth and give it a little squeeze until it lets down. She'll appreciate it."

~

"Uuurgllmpph!" gargled Francine, clutching and squeezing Mirca's fresh milk jug. Yrba put her left hand's splayed fingers on the girl's belly that grew with every frantic gulp, and nodded.

"Yes, that's enough to give her quite a nice set of juicy hips and buttocks," she grinned. Her right hand cupped and sealed Francine's narrow crotch. Her middle finger plugged shut the girl's tight hole and started to draw a sigil inside the cramped canal, scratching it into the mucus-covered flesh of its walls. "Regio iliacae expandere lateralis," mumbled the witch.

Her left hand pushed down on the milk-filled bladder. The girl bucked under her like a wild horse, gyrating in overflowing delight as the warm liquid tickled and bubbled through her body and settled under Yrba's sure hand, transforming into excited flesh.

Francine's love lips plumped in the witch's grasp. The faint squeaking of her labia's expanding skin and the grinding of her stretching hip bone added to the slurping and gulping noises of her mouth and the rubbery groans of her shrinking belly-udder. The space between the girl's thighs grew apart until Yrba's hand found a comfortable expanse to rest in. She rubbed up and down the new gorge. Slippery wetness coated her palm, and the Venusian mound swelled until it fit soft and warm into her palm.

"You liked that, huh? And now let's give you something on your hips to sway with..."

Yrba's hands slid around the girl's bulging waist and cupped Francine's tiny, hard buttocks.

"Let's make that poor handful into a nice round bottom. Natis tumefacere!"

With both hands preoccupied, she leaned forward, putting her body's weight onto Francine's pot-belly. Her fingers were forced apart while she sank into the round, deflating pillow. Francine's hips rose from the ground like the other end of a lever as her body turned milk and magic into a pair of stretching, expanding ass cheeks.

"Heavens!" uttered the young woman, her voice merely a bubbling and gargling groan from underneath Mirca's busy jugs. Francine's arms wrapped around the milk bags as if they were bags of solid gold, clutching them tight with no intent of ever letting go again. Her mouth sucked at the giantess' teats, gulping down the inexhaustible stream. Her rear, slowly becoming huge, round and taut, shivered in Yrba's sculpting grip.

"So — big," Francine stammered. "Like a — mare! Oh — my legs, my thighs — mmmmh! Good! Juicy! Make — me big—"

The gypsy smiled and rubbed her face against Francine's swollen, milk-covered, slippery breasts. The touch alone catapulted the young woman to the next noisy climax.

"Uuuunnngh," Yrba groaned. "No, not too big. You'll be nice and chunky where it counts. Don't want to turn you into a blubbery cow. Come here, now let me shape you!"

She clutched Francine and squeezed herself against the glowing body, letting her fingers wander all over the bloated, stuffed doll figure under her.

"Red, make her squirt the excess juices. It's time to make it last. Uuuuuhnnngh—! Red! What the — can't you tell her pussy from mine—?!"

The bawd's fingers pressed against the inner front wall and the engorged lust button as they slipped out of Yrba's cleft. The witch's thighs trembled.

"I can tell," Red replied chucklingly. "Yours is the loose one. Just couldn't resist copping a feel. Here comes now — mmh, she's a nice tight glove."

A smack, then a long-drawn squelch.

"In my womb —," gasped Francine. And then she blew.

She bucked anew under Yrba, fiercer than before. Her body shook and convulsed up and down, writhing and wiggling like a fighting snake in Yrba's strong hands, slippery all over from the milk she had sprayed.

"What a gusher!" laughed Red as she held Francine's cave wide open. Around her probing fingers, thick, clear slime squeezed out of Francine's tight hole and dribbled down in gobs and lumps of gelatinous ooze. The young woman's over-bloated skin shrunk under Yrba's dancing hands, and slowly the squishy body settled into taut, meaty fullness.

The witch's fingers finished her handiwork and kneaded and modeled a delicious, not-too-narrow waist on Francine while Yrba slowly rose to her haunches. Finally she lifted her weight off the limp, still somewhat swollen shape and admired the living, panting sculpture in the flickering flames of the campfire.

"Oh yes, that'll do," she smiled. "That'll do nicely."

Red bent to the side to glance around Yrba's back.

"I'll say!" she gasped. "Francine! You lucky tart! You better say thank you! a hundred times over!"

~

Francine rested on her back, spent and numb, her body worn out by the unearthly delights. Her breath didn't race anymore. Instead, it came in deep heaves.

"Yay Yrba!" Mirca stared down at the plump, milk-laden figure splayed out in front of her. "She's all new! Oh, isn't she a pretty girl now? Just look at those boobies!"

Red gave Yrba a playful prod in the short ribs.

"Oh yes, just look at them. Now where have I seen them before, eh?" she whispered into her friend's ear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," replied the witch from the corner of her mouth.

"Uh-huh. Just had to one-up a certain boasting girl, didya?" Red countered, tickling Yrba's naked waist. The gypsy squirmed.

"My, they're like Charlene's, only bigger!" giggled Mirca. "And Francine's much more sturdy, more like a real woman now!"

"Feh. So maybe I nabbed a little inspiration here and there," Yrba finally conceded.

~

Francine bucked on the blanket, howling and screaming with joy.

"Will you keep your fingers from her breasts?" thundered the witch, and Mirca recoiled. "They're still too sensitive!"

"Knead them," Francine babbled deliriously, squirming on the ground. "Squeeze them! Heavens, don't stop!"

Mirca started, "I just wanted to see how —"

Yrba cut her off. "— How they squirt all over the place? So what? She's been doing that for the last hour! Give the poor girl a break! Let her calm down, help her get dressed or tend the fire, but don't play milk-the-maiden with her! She needs to return to town before the night is through!" The witch turned her anger right over to Francine. "And you, get a grip!" she hissed. "And I don't mean with your han— oh don't you dare do that now, young lady!" The scolding brought the girl down from her climax faster than a bucket of ice water. Rolling to her side, she fingered for her clothes.

~

"Isn't it — kinda big?" Francine murmured, straining her neck over her shoulder. She hesitatingly touched her protruding buttocks, and then she moaned, "Oooooh! Oh heavens! I — I just c—c—again!" She quickly took her hands off, shuddering all over.

Yrba raised her right hand and put her thumb and middle finger together, ready to snap them.

"You're complaining?!" she snarled. "Ungrateful pup, either you take it as it comes or I'll make you lose it all again, this very instant."

"No!" gasped Francine and raised her hands in hasty pleading. "No, no, no! Don't! I'd rather keep it! It's just so —"

"— Swollen. Swollen and aroused. By the time you wake tomorrow, it will have settled a bit more. Now dress yourself and see to it nobody notices Red and you sneaking back to town!"

Francine struggled with her skirt's waistline that barely fit over her taut ass cheeks now, even with all the buttons open. Red ran her fingers along the cloth's straining edge and squeezed the sensitive flesh into the rough wrapper with the expert motions of a woman versed in the use of tight clothing. The young woman's knees gave way under the orgasmic assault that Red's forceful strokes brought. She sagged against Yrba, pressing her teardrop-shaped breasts against the witch's midriff, clinging to her shoulders as the additional sensation of warm skin all over her chest made her come again, almost instantly.

"Anooooother," she moaned, riding out the latest of a chain of climaxes of which she long had lost count.

Yrba smiled, cupped the young woman's chin, half-buried in the chocolate crevice of her breasts, and lifted the lass' head. She looked down into the dreamy, half-closed eyes and stroked the rosy cheek with her thumb.

"Don't worry, it'll become less sensitive over time."

"What about my — my soul? Will you now —," whispered Francine, suddenly anxious.

"Fear not," Yrba replied. "Long as you never talk about this night, your soul will be safe and sound." She narrowed her eyes, and her voice turned hard. "But just one single word to anyone, and I swear, you'll regret it for the rest of your days."

~

Red whispered into Yrba's ear, "You were a bit tough on her, were you not? 'One single word?' 'Rest of your days?' You're not pondering to really punish her if she does talk, do you?"

"Me? No. That's not what I meant. I don't need to punish her. People willing to punish others just because they're different are a dime a dozen, Red! And the rest of her — and our! — days may be over quite soon if she blabbers. I told you! You better keep more than just one eye on her. Just look at her now!"

Red smiled. "Will I ever. Mmmh, what a sweet luscious flower she's become. Too bad she shot me down when I asked her if she'd join my girls. I guess I'll need to show some perseverance."

~

Quite some days later.

Swish. Swi—thunk. Slap.

Thud.

Rustle.

"Li? Li! Oh gods, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

The yellow-skinned woman struggled upright from the pile of brown leaves around her, staggered over to the altar and dizzily clung to its edge.

"No sorry!" she panted. "Doing good! You move like water now, not like rock! Good fight!"

Li smiled and winced at the same time. Her right eye already started to swell shut, and Mirca's broad footprint on the side of her face shone bright red.

"But — but I don't know how I did—," Mirca stuttered while her fingers fidgeted nervously.

"That is right way of doing it."

Li's hand suddenly moved like a snake, and yet her punch just ran into Mirca's blocking lower arm that seemed to appear out of thin air.

"See? Body faster than head now. Good."

She stumbled against the tall blonde and wrapped her arms around Mirca's waist. Digging her aching face into the soft mountains on her overgrown pupil's chest, she mumbled, "Mirca go carry me home now until need disguise, yes?"

The giantess effortlessly picked her up. Li groaned happily in the embrace and playfully tried to snap at the huge nipples poking through Mirca's tightly-wrapped clothes. Then Mirca suddenly frowned.

"Did you hear that?"

"No hear. Ears ringing. Good kick! Li proud!"

Mirca looked around the clearing with the old ruins. The smell of snow hung in the air, and the leafless trees let the low sun through. A few rays gleamed on the black statue half-wrapped in dried, brown ivy. Over the course of the weeks they had spent practicing, they had almost forgotten that it was there at all.

"I just thought—"

"No hear nothing. Go now! Need put medicine on eye! Else face mine be all funny color for weeks!"

"Weird. I thought I heard a little laughter. Kind of a chuckle."

"Li no hear. Mirca less talk, more walk! See black clouds from north? Bad! Bring early snow storm fast! Must not get caught in it! We go and tell Yrba! Take both you back to Red's house!"

"All right, all right!" Mirca rolled her eyes and groaned as she headed back to the lair.

The ivy around the black statue rustled ever so slightly. Black eyes with a faint hint of green followed them as the couple walked over the hilltop.

You've put on quite a show, girls. Thank you. It's been fun. And, in a cold, mechanical voice, she added, F.4.U-N.1.A core, node one-nine, switching runlevel to hibernate.

~

Chapter 25: Just A Shot In The Dark (Nothing That You Can Do)

Author's note: Things turn ugly in this final chapter of part five. If you're only looking for good-natured ooh-ing and aah-ing, you won't find it in here. This chapter's a real downer. You've been warned, okay?

~

"Berry?"

"Yes, Red?"

The squeaky noise of grindstone over metal stopped. Berry straightened up from the anvil and looked over her shoulder at the bawd who entered the tiny workshop and carefully closed the door behind her.

"I just got word. It's time again. Tonight, at the crossroads five miles out north."

Berry chewed on her lower lip and absently probed the sharpness of the axe blade she had been working on. "Not good. That damned early blizzard last week has thrown us two feet of snow, and it hasn't all thawed away yet. Jean's still down with a cold, and if anything goes wrong, her coughing would put all the guards on our tail. Dammit, I don't like it when they call us on such short notice. And the moon's going to be out tonight. Too bright. We'll have to hide away — hush! Someone's—"

Yrba pulled the door open all the way and beamed at the two. "Part-time smugglers, eh?"

"None of your business!" hissed the burly woman. Her hand shot forward, grabbed the witch by the neckline and pulled her inside the room.

"Berry!" Red barked. "Let her go! I don't have secrets from her. Dammit, I've stuffed her into our secret stash the very moment she arrived. She's not that stupid, y'know."

Reluctantly, Berry relaxed her grip.

"Gee, thanks, Red," coughed Yrba and massaged her neck before she stuffed her blouse back into her skirt. "Berry, you've got some really serious issues. I've been around on and off for what, eight weeks? You should've learned by now that I can keep mum."

Red intently stared at her. "Jean's out of commission, and I don't want to drag any more of the others into that. I'd ask you, but you better not show your face, too. You're the only darkskin for hundreds of miles, that's just too conspicuous. Yrba —" She nervously gnawed on her lip. "— Do you think Mirca's ready to earn her stay? Can she keep quiet about it, too?"

Berry turned her head and stared in disbelief at her boss. "Her? Oh come on! Blondie's a cutie and I love her to death, but she's not cut out for that." Then she imagined Mirca's arms, which would easily pass for other people's thighs, and sighed. "She'd be a great help for moving the packages, though. Between her and me, I guess we'd be done in half the time."

~

And so the blonde ended up on the coach box of Red's flat, open cart. They drove in silence for a while. Around them, the snow-covered hills sparkled red in the setting sun. Finally, Mirca stopped fidgeting nervously, summoned all her courage and timidly asked the older woman:

"So, uh, how did you become a bouncer?"

Berry laughed and didn't turn her head from the road. While her fingers absently ran over the old scars on her arms, she replied, "Girl, sooner or later, we all grow too old for or too tired of our, uhm, professions, and decide it's time to try new things. Things like sleeping in your own bed with a roof over your head. Or wearing nice clothes that don't itch with lice. A warm bath whenever you please."

Her voice grew darker. "Having enough to eat. Not crawling through swamps or cheating death time and again while you're hungry and bleeding. Those things." She hesitated. Now her voice was barely audible when she added, "And not curling up all alone and cold in a freezing red puddle, feeling the warmth drain from your body as you lie bleeding to death from a sword to the neck with the wolves howling all around." She shuddered under the thick fur coat.

When she finally turned her head over to Mirca, she found the speechless young woman gazing at her, shellshocked and on the verge of crying. Berry couldn't help herself, she reached out and caressed the girl's cheek, nodded reassuringly and smiled.

"There, there. Lighten up, okay? Shouldn't have told you that. Happened a long time ago."

Mirca snuffled loudly and swallowed her tears. Her face slowly mimicked Berry's smile until she nodded.

"Uh, if you say so. Where are we going? Yrba said something about a delivery—"

"Yeah, we've got a bag o' gold, and in a few hours we'll have a cart full of boxes. And then we'll put a load of wood on it," she raised a warning finger, "and we're not going to tell anyone about the boxes underneath, understood?"

"Ah, so we're going shopping!"

Berry frowned for a moment before her face relaxed again. She chuckled.

"In a way." She clicked her tongue. "Hiya, you nag! Get those hooves flying, we still got some more miles to make until nightfall."

~

"Are we there yet?"

Berry groaned, and the reins creaked in her grip as she clenched her fists. "Mirca, you've asked a hundred times! We'll get there when we get there, okay?!"

"But we've almost come round to the town again! The cart is full with branches, and those guys you said we'd meet have not turned up."

"Happens. Well, at least we've got firewood for weeks then, eh? Let's set up a campfire over there. We can't return until morning. Gates are closed anyw—ayie! Shit!"

The wooden thock noise mingled with Berry's yelp. She worked the reins, and the cart jumped forward through the narrow pass. The sudden shove swept Mirca off her feet and knocked her backwards on the pile of branches on the cart's bed.

"Ouch! What are you doing?!" the blonde protested as she struggled back to the front of the shaking and bobbing cart. Berry pointed over her shoulder and snarled through clenched teeth, "Can you see anything behind us?"

"Uh, no—yes! There are two people standing on the road now pointing after us, and two—no, three with horses are now coming out of the underwood! They're — they're following us now!"

"Rrrrright. Fuck. All right, listen. Town's just — Branch! Duck! — just across those hills. A few hundred yards left of the gate, there's a couple of bushes at the foot of the wall. Behind them's a tunnel. Big enough even for you. After the next curve, you jump off and run there. Don't let anyone see you! Avoid the guards on the wall!"

"What? Why? No! What are you—?"

Berry grabbed Mirca's neck and pushed her head down. The torch mounted to the corner of the cart flared brightly in the wind of the recklessly speeding vehicle. In the flickering light, Mirca saw —

"Berry! You've been shot!"

"I noticed," groaned the brawny brunette.

A crossbow bolt, feathered and covered in little barbs, stuck out of her leg and held her nailed to the coach box. With every bounce of the cart, a squirt of blood dripped down from the frayed wound. Mirca extended her hand.

"Let me—," and then she yelped as Berry pulled her up again by her neck.