Yrba's Travels Pt. 09

Want my master's seed. Want want want. Suck it all out!

She only managed to wrap her lips around half of the swollen glans. And then, as she sucked away with all her fervor, it began to shrink and fit better with each massive spurt of thick, white semen. The veined, pulsating skin slid deeper into her mouth as his shaft shortened. She doubled her efforts.

More! Want more! Oh. Why master grow small? No! Must suck harder!

She bowed down, trying to keep up with the shrinking but hardening rod even as she unintentionally sucked more and more of the magical charge out of it. Ramec squirmed in the delicious throes of his unrelenting orgasm. His seed squirted on Mirca's tongue, but she barely noticed.

Where master go?

Surprised, she opened her lips and backed away. His rod had shrunk to barely the size of her pinkie, and only a thin jet of seed sprang from its minuscule hole and curled on his stomach.

Master no fun! M— Mast— Must—

She dropped to her knees and clutched her head, shutting her eyes as horrible pain shot through her temples. And then it was as if a vise let go of her skull as Ramec's mind imploded in an orgasmic delirium and took out the mental block along its way to lust-filled hell.

"What's happening here?" she yelped as she struggled to her feet. She gazed around and jumped back at the sight of the wizard's balls that swelled and rumbled larger with every passing moment. They'd become as huge as the potato sacks she'd lugged around at the castle, and they showed no sign of slowing down in their growth.

"'Mec! Wizard! Stop that!" she screamed. His face was contorted in unearthly bliss. He didn't even hear her voice any more.

"Yrba!" She swiveled around to her friend and saw her, for the first time in hours, without the weird haze over her mind. "Oh heavens, Yrba—"

The witch hung upside-down on the table, her belly still full with the magical seed and round like a huge, yard-sized ball. Mirca grabbed the contraption and flipped the board upright. The see-saw went over the tipping point, and part of the unnatural load gushed out of the witch's crotch. The bloated sphere of her womb shrunk. Yrba sagged down into the restraints, viscid goo dripping from her glazed thighs.

Wood groaned, and one of the shelves crashed down behind her. Mirca cast a quick glance over her shoulder while she fumbled at the leather straps around Yrba's hands and ankles. Half of the room was already filled with the incessantly bloating balls. The gurgling glands had no way to unload their sperm fast enough through the pinhole of the wizard's shrunken dick but kept on stockpiling more and more of the magical seed nonetheless. The wizard was beyond saving, his mind boiled from the unending ecstasy that the monstrous scrotum fired through him.

"Not good! Totally not good," Mirca repeated over and over, even as she finally pulled the groggy witch from the table and threw her over her shoulder. She darted through the long hall as the balls filled up the laboratory and their volume began to climb towards the high ceiling. The first wall stones began to slip and grind over each other. With every bouncing step, Mirca's shoulder dug into Yrba's distended belly and squeezed another gush of the intoxicating sperm from her womb, leaving a chain of spattered drops behind them.

~

"Faster! Faster!" muttered the blonde as she bedded Yrba on the wagon's box. She grabbed the nervous horse's reins and dragged the tall shire horse after her as she fled with the other servants through the gate. Only when she was half a mile away, on a small hill, did she dare to stop and look around.

The tall tower still stood. And then, almost in slow motion, the base walls bulged outwards. They shattered and rained down, and behind them, just for a moment, a pair of huge pale orbs were visible. Then the rest of the tower descended, still intact as one huge cylinder, upon the bloated spheres. They caught the structure with their resilient skin, and then they slowly bulged under the weight of the hundreds of tons of stones, flattened more and more and suddenly turned into a splash of thick white liquid that shot up inside the tower and spewed in viscid arcs from the narrow windows before the walls exploded outwards. White jets spewed out through the masonry's widening gaps in a short-lived fountain. What so far had remained of the tower disintegrated into a hail of bricks and roof tiles that buried the whole site, if it didn't descend over the edges of the cliff and into the sea below.

The sound, a weird combination of gnooouuuurrb—bakoom—splurge and the rumble of a landslide, hit Mirca's ears only seconds later. As the dust rose in a huge cloud, she turned aside and heaved and spat and retched until her stomach was empty.

She didn't feel much better afterwards.

On the plus side of that day, Yrba woke minutes later, gave her a tasty lozenge which made her stomach pangs go away and then hugged her for almost a quarter of an hour as if she'd never let her go again.

~

By nightfall, they had brought almost ten miles between themselves and the cliff where the tower had been. There wasn't much to do this evening. They set up camp and lit a fire, and now Yrba tended to a boiling kettle. After an uneasy silence, while both mulled over the events of the last few days, each in her own ways, Yrba cleared her throat and tried to sound as inconspicuously as she could when she asked:

"Mirca, did you ever meet your — your father?"

"Uh. No. But when I asked, my mother always told me he was around at the farm for a few years and he took good care of the cows. She always said how well he knew how to handle his big tool. So I guess he must've been a blacksmith for the chains and cowbells or something."

"Or — something," Yrba replied flatly.

"Why? Did you learn something about him from that mean old wizard?" yawned the blonde and stretched her arms.

"No. No, just wondering." Yrba smiled at the hunk of a girl that now rolled into her blanket, getting ready to sleep by the campfire. Why bother you with the — truth? What truth? All I've heard were the sick insinuations of a mad wizard. Doesn't change a thing if you don't know what I don't know either. I'll never really know what you are, or what he did to you, but you're no monster. You're just a girl. My girl. I gave you the potion. I made you what you didn't want to be. It's my duty to watch over you.

"I was so stupid!" her girl suddenly wailed and pounded her fist on the ground. "He tricked me, and I made it so easy for him! Oh Yrba, why am I so dumb? They were right, all of them! I'm just a — a stupid cow!"

Yrba raised her head. "No! You're no cow! Don't you ever say that again!" Her voice grew softer as she leaned in and wiped the tears from Mirca's face. "You're not a beast. You're not dumb or stupid. You're naive. That just means you've not seen enough to know how mean and deceiving people can be. Look at me." She gently cupped Mirca's chin and turned the girl's head to her face. "Here, look at me. Girl, I've seen enough meanness and deceit for several lifetimes, and still he got me, too. Even got me first. You saved me from him. It's been what, only a year since we met? And in that year, you've learned things other people waste their whole lives searching for. Still there's much left to learn for you. Take your time. I'll be there for as long as it takes." Yrba patted the young woman's cheek.

"You're so sweet. Wanna snuggle?" mumbled Mirca and pouted. Yrba rolled over and spooned against the huge warm body, holding it in her arms as it gently rose and settled with every slow, deep breath.

I'll keep you safe. I'll never again let anyone harm you. I'll teach you all I know. My love.

"Mmmm...You sayin' something?" murmured the blonde, already half asleep.

"Shush. Sleep now." The witch brushed a few strands of the golden-white hair out of the angelic face, inched closer and breathed a kiss on Mirca's shoulder.

I'll be there for you, always.

~

Thus ends the second book of Yrba's Travels. The third and final book (pts. 10--12) is just around the corner. To Be Continued...

... and I really crave comments, both good and bad. A one-liner vocalizing your impression is all it takes to make me happy. So feel free to have at me in the text box below.

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