Yrba's Travels Pt. 10

Yrba smiled. "Massage, girl. Well, seems to me you've found a new home then, eh?" With a hint of sadness, she added, "I had hoped for you to stay with me a little longer. You really could've been a great warrior."

"Yes, well, I think this here is more to my liking. Punching and hurting people for a living? I never really wanted to do that. I just didn't want to disappoint you."

The witch nodded. "I feared as much. Pity, because you're really good at punching people. Without you, customers aren't as willing to pay up. Right, you stay and have some more fun as goddess or whatever. They need a healer around here, so I'll tour the villages for a few weeks, and when I return, you tell me whether you want toreallystay or you're bored out of your skull and want to go back to travelling with me."

She leaned in and whispered: "And don't be too trusting. If they try anything odd, you know how to blow them away." Her hand lifted Mirca's ample breast.

She frowned and kneaded the melon-sized boob, ignoring the gasps from the maids that were peeking through the gates. "Mirca, they've grown. And they used to be much more solid. You're letting them hang out quite a bit. You're not neglecting your training, are you?"

The blonde seemed deeply hurt. "Yrba! Of course not! It's just that around here, I can show off how huge they really are. Why, the nice folksexpectme to look big. It's great! Reining them bags in all the time feels so uncomfortable. Just imagine! I can slowly let them out to their real size! To myknees! These folks will gonuts!"

Yrba shook her head. "That's what I'm worried about. Don't overdo it. Really, dear, you've got to be careful. Keep on training."

~

A day later, Yrba left at dawn, her wagon stocked with new food and fine cloths. And its woman driver was full to the brim with nagging doubts about the whole arrangement.

Is Mirca ready for this? I know I wasn't when I first had to make do alone.The thought kept on circling in her head, until the daily routine of traveling, counseling of bored housewives with vapid complaints and the other hundreds of little chores of a traveling trader-healer finally silenced it.

She kept her ears open, yet she heard nothing but praise for Carwon. He had been the priest and vizier, and probably the boy toy as well, during the final years of the last incarnation of Mamaria, and after her passing from old age seemed to do his best to keep everything running smoothly. He didn't send troops to pillage or burn, he kept the taxes moderate and the streets safe.

To Yrba, with her mistrust honed by years of traveling, all of that seemed too good to be true.

~

Chapter 55: Everything's Swell (-ing)

~

"Mmmh. You're too good to be true," Mirca sighed, wiggling into a comfortable, reclined position on the furs atop the divan.

"If you say so, your highness... don't fight the sleep, my goddess. Another grape? I'll just keep on going, if it pleases you, your divinity."

She relaxed under Carwon's gentle hands that kept on rubbing her breasts with an exotic oily lotion smelling of flowers. It had taken her a lot of persuasion up to the point of open threats until he had agreed to another, fundamental change of the rules and reluctantly had touched her, scared as if that very moment a bolt of lightning would reduce him to a pile of ashes.

Now he just couldn't get enough. He had come twice in his pants already just from kneading the warm, doughy mountains of Mirca's breasts, and he kept hoping she hadn't noticed his discharge, for who knew how she'd mock him then. Nevertheless, he felt a bit more relaxed and was focused on the task at hand. She seemed to enjoy it a good deal more than the usual massage done by the maids.

Her tongue played with the sweet fruit for a few moments until she sucked the grape into her mouth and swallowed it.

"Uh-huh. Keep going. Yeeeesssss..."

Her voice trailed off, and her head sank aside as she drifted into sleep. Soon, her breath calmed and deepened.

And hekepton going. Time and again, she stirred and moaned in her sleep while her breast slowly swelled up with every new handful of the warm oil he rubbed into her skin.Thatwas unusual, and unexpected. Then again, shewasthe goddess, and quite a temperamental one at that. He didn't dare to wake her to find out if that swelling was supposed to happen.

~

"Carwon?" she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"He's in his chambers, goddess," was the reply. Mirca frowned and blinked into the light of morning. One of the maids stood right by her side with a tray of brushes. The woman giggled. "He seemed really tired, and he walkedreallyfunny."

"Heh. Who would've though. So, what you up to?" the blonde inquired.

"Why, brushing your hair, my goddess. I'm here to make yougorgeous."

Mirca beamed. "Ah, just like with Red's girls. So where do you want to start? With my head, or between my legs?" joked the giantess and spread her thighs. The maid grew pale, and the combs on the tray started to rattle. Mirca quickly took pity. "No, calm down. Just the head will be fine." She rolled about to get up, and hesitated. There wasa lotmore that rolled about, and it not only rolled, it bobbed, shook and quavered. She probed her breasts with splayed fingers, digging into the soft, flattened pumpkins and squeezing them together into a deep, dark cleavage.

Double the size, I'd say. Two, three feet across. Odd. I didn't dream, and it never happened when I was just sleeping. Oh well, here goes ...

She pouted her lips and sucked in her cheeks. Theemptinesswandered down her throat and got hold of her breast's skin. The molten melons shaped up and climbed on her chest, rising from dangling down to proud, gravity-defying, taut three-quarter spheres. Her areolae shrunk as they wrinkled and pulled her skin tight, her nipples stood and swelled with growing pressure, and with a fainthiss, the excess milk sprayed out.

The tray clattered to the floor, and the combs and brushes tumbled about. The maid made a bolt for the door, yelling: "The cup! She's letting down! Someone fetch the cup! And the priest! Milk!So muchmilk! Come and see! It's true!"

"—Ffft!" Mirca opened her lips in surprise, and the shrinking and spraying stopped immediately. An incredulous expression wandered over her face. "What the—?" she muttered.

Hurried footfall came from the outside, and at least a half-dozen of the maids barged in. Mirca found herself at the center of a rapidly growing half-circle of kneeling women, and a golden chalice was handed towards her while three of the maidservants cowered on the floor and soaked up the white droplets into ceremonial cloths with much reverence.

"Into the cup! Into the cup, goddess!" they all pleaded. Mirca raised her eyebrows.

"You really want me to —?"

Carwon stumbled into the room, half-dressed. He stopped and stared wide-eyed at the droplets of milk, spattered over the marble, and put a hand over his mouth.

"You — is thatyours?"

"Uh, yes?" shrugged Mirca. "Happens quite often. Why? It's easy for me. See?"

She grabbed the stem of the cup and hung her left breast's nipple over it while her other hand pointed the other nipple into the same direction.

"Mmmmffff—," she pouted again, andwhizzzwent the pair of her breasts. A foaming puddle collected and quickly filled three quarters of the chalice until her breasts were comfortable again and she stopped shrinking her bust.

The maids carried the sparkling cup from her sleeping quarters with all the signs of highest adoration. Mirca looked after them and shook her head as she turned back to Carwon.

"You folks are weird, you know?" she remarked.

~

The next evening, she listened to the maids playing music on harps and some other instruments she didn't recognize. The melody sounded complicated, and, well,boring. She sighed and clapped her hands.

"Girls, girls! That's not music! You, raven hair, you bring me a bucket! Hurry!"

Mirca pulled at her toga and wrapped it differently, freeing her feet. By the time she was finished, the maid had returned.

"Ah, great! Right, you turn it upside-down and then you hit it — no, give it to me!"

"Goddess!"

"I don't think there's a rule that says, 'Goddess mustn't touch a bucket', girl!"

She pulled it out of the maid's trembling hand.

"Now listen. Rhythm, that's how good music starts. Not this lazy plucking on that harpy or whatever this thing is called."

The raven-haired girl didn't need long to pick up the driving beat Mirca showed to her.

"Yes, now we're talking. Music's for fun, y'know? Okay, harpy-plucking girl, you go with it! Yes, yes! And now I'll show you how to dance!"

Mirca jumped to her feet and whirled round and round over the marble, losing herself in the rhythm that grew more and more frantic. She jiggled and swung her breasts around. Her hair sparkled in the light of the hundreds of candles. Her hips gyrated, her feet slid over the floor, then she bowed and straightened, shimmying up and down in front of the speechless maids.Oh Yrba, if you could see me now! In the villages, you never allowed me to end it with the big bang!She straightened and then arched herself backwards.Grow!her thoughts commanded.

Her breasts gained weight and size in fast throbs. The silk of the toga billowed and finally ripped with a high-pitched sound as her nipples and then her whole breasts burst through the taut cloth.

"You might want to fetch a holytubnow, girls," she giggled, out of breath, as she slowly bent over backwards. "A cup won't do this time!"

She let her heavy breasts, their shape resembling vein-covered, giant pumpkins now, drag her down on the cold marble and was laying there, spread-eagled, panting and laughing.Shrink!she ordered and pouted her lips, sucking at an imaginary nipple. And while she drew at the air, her skin grew tight and squeezed her breasts down to the already abundant size she had started with, spewing ample jets of warm milk yard-high into the air only to rain back down all over her. Drops ran over her body, her face. Soon, she rested in a huge puddle of white liquid. She turned her head. Soaked hair slid over her cheeks. Her breasts heaved with her laughter and heavy breathing.

"Phew! Hey! Huh! Just like your fountain's statue, eh? Too bad the tub didn't get here in time. So, what you say? Lick it off my skin instead, anyone?"

"Praise the goddess!" they mumbled, themselves frozen like statues.

"Oh comeon! You're no fun!"

~

"Goddess, your bath is ready."

"Ah, finally."

She walked into the steamy room and sniffed at the air.

"That's not water, is it? Is that — "

"Milk, your highness. It'll do wonders to your skin," Carwon replied.

"I don't know. Isn't that a bit too much? I mean, I'm used to a dip in a river or a pond, but, y'know,milk? One could feed a whole village with that — "

"Of course, and that's why they offered it to you as a sign of their gratitude. It would be impolite to turn it down."

"You mean they'll come and watch me in here?!"

He chuckled, a polite little laughter.

"Of course not, Your Highness."

Mirca sighed with relief.

"Then I'll pass, and we'll just lie to them and say I've used it. Just the other day, I've showered in my own milk, y'know. And then I neededanothershower to get it out of my hair!"

"Highness!" he gasped.

Mirca raised her hands and shrugged in resignation. "Oh all right, all right! I'll give it a try!"

She put her toe, then her leg into it, muttering "damn, the things I do to make people happy."

The liquid was warm, even slightly hot. Her face brightened. "Hey, that's not bad, actually. I could get used to that."

Mirca made her way further down the steps until she stood on the basin floor with the milk reaching to her hip. She slowly sat down to get used to the warmth. Her breasts became submerged and rose again to the surface, exposing her nipples to the air. The chill of evaporation made them stand up.

"Aaaah," she exhaled, "look, milk bags floating in a sea of milk. Do I have any more duties today?"

"None that I'm aware of, Goddess."

"Good." She waved. "Y'all may leave me alone now. Just keep it at that warmth, and I'm a happy goddess."

Moments later, Mirca was alone in the huge hall.

She luxuriated in the warm basin and moaned blissfully. The milk really brought a great deal of relief and took away the constant feeling of strain and weight from her chest as her breasts floated about. She relaxed, resting on her back, her arms stretched along the rim. Soon, she fell asleep. And slowly, over the course of the night, the level of the liquid in the basin kept falling as well. With the maids patiently waiting outside the door, there was no one around to hear the faint stretching and groaning noises as her skin sucked up the milk and sent it straight into her greedy breasts.

~

The morning light saw Mirca, waking to a chill on her skin. She stretched her arms and got ready to rise. Halfway through the upward motion, the skin of her breasts tightened and pulled her back down.

"What the —?"

Mirca looked around, puzzled. It was plain as the new day that there was a lotmoreof her around now. Her breasts had multiplied tenfold in volume, and she shuddered and sighed happily as her fingers moved over the vast expanse of sensitive skin. She made another go at it and managed to lift her breasts off the basin floor, but slipped as she tried to climb out, and fell with a splash back down into the puddle. Her breast sloshed back and forth for quite a while.

Rein them in? Again? Aw. Haven't got much choice, though. They feel so good, this big, but I really need to get up now.

She pouted her lips and sucked, but immediately exhaled and coughed in pain.

Dammit! It stings like hell, this time. No, I don't want to ache all over first thing in the morning. Let's see how our little big priest deals with that.She took a deep breath and threw back her head.

"Caaaarwoooon!" she hollered at the ceiling.

A few minutes passed before the maids had woken him. In the mean time, she tugged at and rubbed over her breasts. Yes, it feltreallygood.Goodgood. Crotch-soaking-happy good.

I'm going to keep them,she decided.

"Yes, my goddess?" he panted, out of breath, as he showed at the door of the bathroom.

"Carwon, tell me: Have I grown bigger? And I don't mean how tall I am."

He bowed to her.

"Why, of course! You are now a beacon of divine breasts, my mistress! The mother goddess indeed reveals her strength most generously through you!"

Mirca struggled again in the slippery basin and sighed.

"Seems to me she didn't reveal much foresight, then, plumping me in here. Well, since you're so happy about that,youdeal with this!"

"Maids!" he clapped his hands, "Come and help the goddess get out of this trap!"

Two groups of four came in and waded into what remained of the milk. Mirca chewed on her lips as sixteen hands stroked and pushed under her flattened orbs and lifted her pair of breasts, passing it along to the next group waiting at the rim while she climbed from the basin. Another two girls stood to attention and dried her down with two large towels. The rough cloth rubbing between her legs sent another swarm of shivers down her spine.

She looked down into the basin and blinked.

"Where did the milk go?"

"Why, into your breasts, of course!" moaned one of the carriers, struggling with the load. The others nodded consentingly.

"Oh don't besilly! If all of the milk had soaked into them, they'd be far too heavy for you to lift! They're bigger, but notthatmuch bigger."

On the way back to the throne room, the groups of four walked by her sides, holding up the immense amount of breasts for her. Once Mirca sat upright on the throne again, they draped her sloshing milk bags on two tables with cushioned troughs that stood at an angle to her left and right arm rest. If she strained her arms and drew her skin into pleats with her fingers, she was able to work her way up to her nipples. The blonde tickled over them.Huh. About as long as my forefingers, and twice as thick as my thumbs.She quickly straightened up again as two girls came back and pulled white, semi-transparent veils over her naked skin. Another one of the maids decorated her breasts with chains of silver and gold. Almost as an afterthought to the attention given to her boobs, they wrapped her body in a sarong with a cutout for her chest. Two maids tied a girdle around her waist. It had a piece of chain mail dangling down in front, heavy, golden and triangular. Mirca was suddenly reminded of her combat dress that had to be lying around somewhere in the huge palace, gathering dust. Not that she'd fit into it anymore now. She sat back down and sighed, dismissing the maids with a weary wave of her hand.

~

The rest of the day passed with the usual parade of visitors staring in amazement at her new assets. Occasionally, she was asked a question or two, but it was Carwon who answered. Bored out of her mind, she spent most of the time picking snacks from the table beside her or playfully snapping with her agile tongue at the grapes which one of the maids plucked for her and held in front of her face. Every now and then, a shiver and gooseflesh ran over her breasts, and the skin seemed to contract. She didn't think much about that, exceptbrrr, dammit, heatin' those temples must be a bitch. I wonder who's the one lugging the wood around here?

~

Chapter 56: Flying Visit For A Tongue Lashing

~

"Mirca! I'm back! Where are y—"

Yrba turned the corner into the throne room and jumped as she saw her herculean blond friend. Mirca rested on her side on the elevated golden divan and was busy plucking grapes from a bunch with her tongue and swallowing them one by one, while another servant girl stood ready with a salver almost overflowing with bread, grilled meat and fruits. Yet that wasn't what made the traveler almost lose her balance on the polished marble. Her eyes were glued to the pair of mammaries that dominated the scene of regal decadence.

Mirca's breasts had grown to a size Yrba had only seen during magical outbursts, and even then only for minutes. Butthesewere obviously not a product of short-lived magical interference. The witch blinked in disbelief. Were Mirca not resting on her side, they'd be hanging down to her ankles, dwarfing the body they were attached to. With Mirca lying on the divan and the white milk bags stacked in a nest of pillows in front of her, one piled atop the other like two huge, stuffed sacks made of satin. Together, they were easily five feet across and a yard high, even in their flattened-out shape dictated by their obviously immense weight.

" —what the hell?!"the witch barked in surprise.

The sudden outburst made the two guarding women to Mirca's side instantly lower their pikes in defense of their goddess and queen. Yrba stopped in her tracks as the sharp points aimed at her throat.

"Right, let's not get hasty," she muttered as she retreated and lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender.

Mirca stepped in, giggling. "Girls! What are you doing? I told you before, she's a friend. Off you go, the lot of you, and wait outside until I call you back in. Don't worry if gets loud in here. Well? Shoo! Shoo-shoo!" She chuckled and waved vaguely towards the huge doors. Her servants bowed and obeyed.

~

Once the heavy doors clicked shut and the queen was alone with the surprise visitor, she held out her arms to the witch.