New Entry For The Backer Driven Story “Ynara’s Curse”

You can find the new entry below the break or read the story in its current entirety HERE.

Content Warnings/Kink Spoilers: This is a short entry at just about 2,000 words. The entry includes public humiliation, unwanted groping, breast growth, and masturbation.

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Kiara found herself working as a tavern wench, wearing a low-cut dress that showed off an indecent amount of cleavage. Looking down at herself she was stunned by what she saw. The breasts attached to her chest were massive, looking to her eyes as though each immensely heavy breast was as large as her midsection.

This must be a dream, she thought. My breasts aren’t this large, no Human woman’s breasts could be THIS large. The weight of them was maddening, an ever-present reminder of their indecent, massive size.

The tavern she was wenching in came into focus, the dream world slowly filling out around her. The men in the tavern weren’t like the ones who filled the local common room of her village’s inn. These were crude, evil, filthy-looking men. Brigands and thieves who all ogled her massive breasts with crude, unwelcome greediness.

“I want another drink,” one of the men shouted at her as he pounded an empty mug on the table. “Come wench, filler her up,” he snarled at her, holding the mug up and waving it impatiently at her.

Kiara rushed to the man’s table. She felt certain she had everything she needed to fill the man’s empty mug, but that confused her. She carried no tray full of fresh ale, there was only her. And my breasts, she realized, the dream revealing to her what she was supposed to do.

The man set his mug down and slid it to the edge of the table. “Well, cow?” he asked, licking his lips lecherously while staring at her tits. “Whip a teat out, you fat-uddered cow. I’m thirsty.”

This isn’t a dream, Kiara thought as she leaned over the table. It’s a nightmare!

She lowered her top, letting one of her massive breasts fall free of her dress. The weight of the heavy sack of meat pulling on her from the angle she stood at made her groan in dismay.

How could anyone manage to lug such heavy, gross, fat things around? How could a man find something so repulsive and gross attractive? She didn’t know how but saw it WAS true.

The men around her were openly rubbing their manhoods through their pants as they watched her grab a huge hanging breast and position it above the mug on the table. Many erupted in lewd jeers when she grabbed the bulkiest part of her breasts. Face burning as their verbal abuse continued she squeezed, causing a thick stream of milk to spray from her nipple into the empty mug.

Kiara was not prepared for the intense mix of sensations milking herself caused. She’d not noticed the maddening pressure in the massive breast till it was lessened. The rush of relief left her squeezing her breast harder, working her hands down the meaty bulk to express more milk as quickly as possible.

It felt AMAZING. And it was more than just the relief of pressure, a disturbing rush of sexual pleasure came with it. As she squeezed and squeezed some more she found herself shaking as she unwillingly let slip a lewd moan.

“Listen to the huge-uddered cow moan! She loves a good milking, doesn’t she?”

Kiara’s cheeks flushed hotter with embarrassment. How could these men talk about her like this? She was a woman, not a cow. Why would they say such cruel things? They must be evil men. They WERE evil men. They were enjoying the pain their shameful words were causing her.

“Dumb cow-slut with huge udders,” another of the men called out with a cruel, mocking laugh. “Ynara truly has cursed her with tits so big it’s a wonder she can stand. But we don’t mind, do we, boys? That milk! Most delicious thing in three kingdoms. And the things it does to your cock! I’ve never been as hard as I get after drinking a mug of it. And once I’m upstairs with the whores? I can go all fucking night.”

The crowd cheered, many proclaiming their agreement.

Kiara had filled the mug with milk by that point, leaving her breast feeling oddly deflated and light compared to the other. It left her painfully aware of how full the other was, of the uncomfortable pressure that needed to be released.

“Fill me up next,” a nearby man demanded.

Kiara went to him, one tit hanging out of her top with the engorged nipple still leaking milk. She whipped her other breast out and leaned over the man’s table, aiming her nipple at the empty mug. Once more she squeezed, spraying thick jets of milk into the empty cup.

“I’ll help you along,” the man said, grinning at her in a way that sent a cold shiver down her spine. The dream world filled out more, bringing “memories” of her dream life to her. The tavern was part of a whore house. She was not required to whore for these awful men, but she did have to endure their unwelcome touches when she was serving them.

The man, knowing she couldn’t tell him no, grabbed the base of the breast dangling over his partially filled mug of milk. He grabbed her tit tighter than she would have, making her yelp in pain. Then, gripping tight enough to make her yelp louder, he worked his hand down the meaty bulk of her tit.

It caused a thick jet of milk to spray out so strongly it hurt her. Yet with the pain came intense forced sexual pleasure that left her shuddering. The milking was making her cum and everyone in the tavern knew what was happening. Men cheered and jeered. They showered her with lewd compliments and even lewder insults.

The worst part was how her orgasm seemed to open a floodgate of improper requests. She was passed from table to table, milked roughly, and made to cum over and over again. Other men groped and slapped her ass, some even reaching up her dress to grab and rub at her womanhood.

Through it all they laughed cruelly while showering her with verbal abuse. She burned with shame and humiliation, all made worse by the repeated forced orgasms her milking caused through it.

How can I continue to endure this? What brought me here? How could I have become employed in this awful place, serving these awful men? How could my breasts have grown so massive!?!

As Kaira bemoaned her fate in the dream, barely enduring what she had to suffer through, a distant sound began to fill the world around her. It was quiet at first, a rhythmic chanting like the wind that was easily overlooked. But gradually it grew louder till she couldn’t ignore it.

It was a phrase being chanted, but not yet loud enough at first for her to make out the words. As it slowly grew louder the dream world grew darker, the crude lewd abuse of the men in the tavern melting away as they joined in the chanting till Kaira was able to make out what they were saying.

“Cursed by Ynara.” The same three words repeated. Each time louder, each time feeling more ominous, each chanted utterance filling Kaira with dread.

And something else. There was fear, but along with it arousal. Her breasts, staggeringly heavy and still aching to be milked, throbbed. The hands she’d felt on them hadn’t been enough. The orgasms her milkings had forced hadn’t been enough. She needed to embrace the pleasure her massive tits brought her, only then could the curse be ended. Only when she submitted to the pleasure her breasts could bring to her and others would the torments in store for her change. Not end but rather become delights.

Ynara. Whatever or whoever Ynara was, THAT was the answer. And only through Ynara would the suffering of the curse become the delight of a blessing.

* * *

Kiara woke with a start, soaked in sweat and shaken by her nightmare. It hung fresh in her mind, the fear mixing with the intense confusing arousal. She whimpered, spreading her legs and jamming her hands between them. She found her womanhood so sopping wet it felt almost like she’d wet the bed.

As soon as her hands found her slit they went to work. She rubbed with one hand while jamming three fingers of her other hand into herself. Kiara bucked and moaned as she furiously masturbated, the disturbing and intensely erotic memories of her dream running through her mind. That she was getting pleasure from remembering just horrible debasement shamed her, and the shame only intensified her pleasure.

Kiara had awakened more worked up than she’d known she could be. Her loins ached in the manner she felt just before release, but it was like waking from the dream had denied her the climax her body had been close to. With desperation she tried to push herself to that edge before her body lost the height of pleasure it had nearly attained.

The orgasm came quick and strong. She had to roll over and bury her face in her pillow to muffle her howl of pleasure, fearing the indecent scream would wake not just her father but her two brothers as well.

Once she started to come down from her climax she found her body was far from sated. The desire her cunt had been filled with was sated, but now her tits ached for attention.

Her hands found them sore and tender, her nipples engorged and feeling painfully swollen. It didn’t matter. In moments she was massaging and sensually groping confusingly large handfuls of breast flesh. She bucked and thrashed about, moaning lewdly as she played with her breasts. Her fingers found her aching nipples and soon she was rubbing, pinching, twisting, and pulling on them. She gasped and arched her back, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from howling out as she came again.

She collapsed limp on the sweat-soaked bed, panting heavily. She lay there in disbelief that she’d been able to cum just from playing with her breasts. The orgasm had come on quickly and been as powerful as the one she’d rubbed out minutes ago.

Her breasts were larger than they’d been when she’d fallen asleep. They were a small handful now, an increase in size large enough for her to find undeniable.

If not for the nightmare she’d have been confused by the sudden change to her body, but not overly worried. After the dream she was left terrified. The feeling of having breasts as massive and heavy as she’d seen in her dream, ones that lactated freely, terrified her.

But what terrified her most was how good playing with them had felt. Already she was thinking about using them to get off again. Her body was drained, sore, and not ready for another bout of pleasure but she feared as soon as she felt recovered she’d not be able to stop herself.

Cursed, she thought. Cursed by Ynara.

She didn’t know what was happening to her or why, but she knew she’d need to find out. If she was cursed like her dream had suggested she needed to discover how and why the curse had fallen upon her.

She shivered, remembering the end of the dream. It had given her an answer, one that she barely wanted to acknowledge. She was a good woman, a kind and decent woman. The nightmare vision of her with impossibly large breasts, doing indecent things with them as a serving wench in a whore house, she’d never let herself sink so low.

If she was cursed, and if the disturbing breast growth she was suffering were connected to the curse, she’d never give in the way the dream had seemed to demand. She’d not surrender to the perverse lifestyle the nightmare had presented. She’d never submit to the degenerate pleasure the dream had suggested she needed to submit to.

“Never,” Kiara vowed quietly as she pulled the damp blankets up and rolled over to try and get back to sleep. “I’ll never become that woman I saw in my dream,” she whispered. “Never submit to such perversions.”

She was disturbed. Frightened. She needed comfort before she could return to sleep’s embrace, and she was just tired enough to let her body act on instinct. As she lay huddled under the damp covers on a cold, sweat-soaked mattress she grabbed her tender, swollen breasts and cupped them. Her grasp on the soar flesh brought her comfort, enough comfort that she quickly drifted back to sleep…