This was originally posted on another site, but my muse lost interest. Now I'm trying to reinvigorate my muse. Expect the next chapter in a few days.
**

Gregor stirred a great boiling pot with the long ivory ladle, ignoring the multicoloured steam that rose from its silvery surface. He focused on the patterns that appeared with each stir, half formed creatures, images from his past, demons reaching out their faces scowling and cursing silently.

He reached back, taking a handful of dark red leaves that curled as he touched them from one of dozens of bags. Whispering a chant in a language that made his eyes ache, he placed them into the pot. The silver, viscous surface changed to a pale pink which ran like water away from the ladle. He paused.

"That's not right," he muttered to himself, his heart starting to race. At eighteen he was already too old to be an apprentice and this was his last chance to become a journeyman wizard, if he failed this test Master Olwin would throw him out.

Quickly he went over the ingredients, leech weed, dragons milk, demon piss, troll rot, what else was there?

He smiled as he remembered, he needed to add crocodile tears, but should he have added at the beginning or before the leech weed? It shouldn't matter, so long as it went in, the spell would be salvageable. Probably.

He grabbed the small bottle of crocodile tears and carefully put two drops into the pot. The liquid swirled, showing hundreds of images each one appearing and disappearing too fast for the eye to see. Gregor sighed in relief, the scrying spell should work now, he thought.

The next second, there was a loud bang followed by a flash of light which sent Gregor flying across the room. He felt something hit him in the back, but the pain didn't have time to reach his brain before everything went black.

**

Gregor came to in a pile of kindling, his body hurt and he didn't want to move, but he heard an anguished voice in the distance.

"WHAT! Whe-Where is my house? My books? GREGOR!!!!" his Master shouted at him.

With a groan, Gregor stood up. He felt cold, but his mind couldn't focus on anything. He blinked his eyes trying to see something, but there were only spots. Even rubbing his eyes didn't do anything.

"Oh, Miss," his Master said. "What are you doing here? Did my useless apprentice drag you here?"

Miss? Gregor blinked and rubbed at his eyes, finally able to make out some silhouettes. Where was the woman, he wondered? They were miles away from any town. And why couldn't Olwin see him, had he turned himself invisible?

"Here, Miss, sit down and put on my cloak, before you catch your death of cold. Did you see what happened to my house?" Olwin asked.

Gregor felt his master touch his shoulders, placing a fine silk robe over his shoulders. For the first time he realized he was naked, hastily he wrapped himself up not wanting the woman to see him unclothed. Clearing his throat he tried to speak.

"Take a drink, Miss," Olwin said. Gregor felt a water flask touch his mouth and greedily drank down the water, as his Master kept talking "Drink your fill and then tell me what you know, I have to find my apprentice, so I can kill him. What was he thinking?! It was a simple scrying spell, and he destroyed my house. I've never known anyone as incompetent as him. There we go, now tell me everything."

Gregor groaned again as the water was taken away. His eyes were almost normal now, and he looked around to see the woman his Master was talking to.

"Ma-Master, where's the woman?" he mumbled.

Master Olwin stared at him for a long time, his face growing red as his body quivered so hard his orange pointed hat fell to the ground. He tried to speak, but nothing came out, as he pulled at his long white beard in rage. Gregor watched in amazement, it seemed as if the anger was making the old man taller.

"YOU'RE GREGOR!!!"

He slowly nodded his head. "Yes Master. What happened? Where is the woman you were talking to?"

The wizard waved his arms briefly and a full length mirror rose from the ground in front of Gregor. The young man looked at it unsure of what was going on, in the mirror was a dirty young woman, about his age with long black hair was tangled and matted with debris. Her tanned skin was covered in scratches, dirt, sawdust and multicoloured dye. She was wearing the Masters cloak, which barely covered her large breasts, and did not cover the small hairless slit between her legs. The girls large grey eyes widened in shock as she looked up and down at Gregor, her small mouth wide open beneath a button nose.

A horrifying idea slowly made its way through Gregors' concussion. His hand involuntarily rose, the girls' eyes followed it a growing look of fear filled her face. His hand was several inches from his chest, and should have felt nothing but air, instead he felt flesh, warm, tender flesh. Worse yet he realized he was feeling his hand touching that large mound of flesh.

In the mirror the girl was cupping her breast exactly like he was, a look of horror matched Gregors' own.

Oh gods, no.

The increasingly shaken apprentice lifted his left foot, which was mirrored in the mirror. His other hand went to his waist, stopping at his stomach, shaking like a leaf at what Gregor knew he would not feel.

The girl in the mirror reached down, touching the v between her leg. Her hand was curling, as if she was trying to grasp a long slender item that wasn't there anymore. Tears starting rolling down her face.

Gregor looked down, and saw his brand new, pert tits with their slightly upturned nipples, leaning forward a little he watched as his hand vainly reached for a penis that had ceased to exist. With a sob he fainted.

**
Gregor woke up from a horrible nightmare. He'd dreamed he had blown up the masters house, and worse yet turned himself into a woman.

Thank the gods it had only been a dream.

He wondered why his bed was so hard. He was used to sleeping on simple straw after he had lit his feather bed on fire one too many times, but it was never as hard as this. He scratched his head, feeling the long thick locks of hair, and sat up with a scream.

"So the brainless little lassie is finally awake. I was thinking you'd sleep the whole day away," said his master, who was watching his house rebuild itself.

"Please, Master," Gregor begged, "I don't know what happened. You have to turn me back into a boy."

"Why?"

"I am your apprentice, you have to help me." Gregor insisted.

The wizard laughed harshly. "You blew up my house, turned yourself into a woman, and failed your final test Rather magnificently. You're on your own, I'm embarrassed to call you my apprentice, and now I will never have too hear your whiny little voice again. I may get drunk tonight to celebrate."

Gregor began crying. He, no she now, hated crying, but it happened so often she simply accepted it as a fact of life. When she made a mistake casting a spell, her master yelled at her, or she was simply frustrated, she would burst into tears. At least now I have the excuse that I'm a woman, she thought.

"You should know most transformation spells end within a week. But you never did remember your studies," Olwin chuckled.

"You mean I'll be a man again?" Gregor asked hopefully.

"No!" His master said, practically cackling. "While you had your beauty nap, I made it permanent. Now you can look forward to being a farmers wife. No, no, that won't do, farming requires too much brains. You'll do better working the docks of Grand Port. They always need new girls."

"How can you be so cruel?"

"For ten years," Olwin said, "ten, long, frustrating years, you've darkened my door. Burning my socks while I was wearing them with heat spells. Turning the chickens into slugs and hatching the eggs into baby monkeys. Breaking every dish in the house when you tried to magically improve your singing. And let's not even mention what happened when you tried to give me the surprise party last year, my neck still aches when it rains."

He shook his head almost sadly. "The best thing for you to do is to slink away and hide your head in shame. You're a beautiful woman, so find yourself a man and give your poor stupid brain a break, it obviously isn't capable of doing any heavy lifting."

"I don't know the first thing about being a woman!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.

"You'll learn. And don't think I'm completely heartless, I gave you a gift that will help," his Master said.

"A gift?"

"Oh yes, touch your ears," he said.

Gregor cautiously touched her ears, feeling long hoops of some cold metal hanging from her lobes. They were as thick as a rose stem, and didn't seem to have any kind of opening or clasp.

"I hope you like them, you can never take them off."

Gregor sniffed and looked at her now former master piteously. "What do they do?"

"They'll help you be more ladylike. Can't have your male brain messing up how you deal with people. So those earrings will make sure you get the proper feelings and reactions to being a woman," the old man laughed again.

Gregor pulled on the earrings, stretching her ears painfully. "No you can't do this! I won't let you!" her shouted, spreading his hands to weave a spell.

Olwin waved his hand pushing Gregor onto his well padded ass. "Don't make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have. And don't try to take the earrings off, they and your ears are completely invulnerable."

Gregor ignored him, twisting one earring as hard as she could. Her ear felt like it was being ripped off, but she refused to stop, gritting her teeth to keep from shouting in pain.

Suddenly her chest started to itch, worse then when she'd turned his blanket into poison ivy. She stopped pulling his ear to scratch, but as she leaned forward to scratch herself harder, she became over balanced, and fell right on her nose. Her face was only in the dirt for a second however, she suddenly shot up three feet into the air, finding herself resting painfully on her knees and a pair of enormous tits.

Scrambling to her feet, she had to cradle the two mountains of soft, pliant flesh that were her tits with both hands. The enormous nipples stood straight up and were large enough to hold a hat.

"AAAAHHHHH!!!!!" Gregor screamed, making her tits swing dangerously.

Her old Master fell over laughing, unable to speak for several minutes. "I warned you. Every time you try to take the earrings off, some part of your body will get larger. The harder you try the bigger it gets."

"When will they go away!" Gregor shouted, holding her painfully large breasts up while pushing them away at the same time.

"They'll shrink back to normal in a few hours. But until then every man is going to be very happy. Speaking of which..." Olwin trailed off. He rummaged in his belt pouch, while Gregor fought with her breasts which kept trying to slip out of her grasp. Finally the old man found what he wanted and tossed some powder into his eyes. Blinking furiously, he made a sound remarkably like 'click'.

Gregor watched in growing horror as images of her new, nubile body with its ridiculous tits appeared throughout the clearing. The doubles changed their poses, becoming as lewd as possible, massaging their tits, lying back to spread their legs, bending over so there breasts almost touched the ground with there bums were high in the air. Finally The old man stopped, obviously pleased with his handiwork.

Gregor stood there completely defeated, she was a woman and would be until someone helped her. She felt her face turn beet red. What else could go wrong today, she thought to herself.

"Now that I have my only pleasant memory of you immortalized," Olwin said watching the naked fakes cavorting with each other, "I have one last thing to say to you, Gregor. GO AWAY!"

"Can I have some clothes please?"

"You have magic, make some if you can."

Gregor took a deep breath, Olwin was right, she may not be a good wizard, but she could do magic. And clothes were easy. Releasing her breasts, she closed his eyes, letting her soul see for her and began chanting. Pointing at the bushes and trees nearby, her hands moved in intricate circles, at least they tried. Her arms kept bumping her tits, throwing her off, as they bounced in response.

The magical energy built up forming a yellow ball in her hands, with a shout she sent the energy into the nearby plants. Her mystical sight showed the magic infusing the living material, changing its elements, enlarging the leaves, weaving some of them together and separating others. It was working, Gregor could feel it.

Finally the spell was complete and his clothes, a sensible pair of pants, and a large shirt should be right in front of her, she opened his eyes and looked down. Her mouth fell open in shock.

Her master looked over his shoulder and howled with laughter. The clothes were nothing like what she wanted. Instead of pants, there was a skirt, a tiny, tiny dark blue pleated skirt. On top of them was a lacy piece of fabric that looked a little like underwear, but was far too small to even cover her butt. The shirt was possibly worse, it was white and the collar was cut into a huge V, it had short puffy sleeves that wouldn't even reach her elbows. Beside it was some strange item with two loops at the side and cups made of a pink lacy fabric that looked almost large enough to hold her breasts. There were straps on the back with some kind of catch that could possibly hold it together. For shoes there was a shiny black pair that shone in the sun like some kind of metal, with soles that rose steeply until they were easily five inches high at the heel, thin silky stockings with a small pink bow at the top sat folded on each shoe.

"These are clothes?"Gregor asked in confusion, lifting the underwear with two of her fingers.

"They seem to be," snorted his old master. "But only you would make something as useless as these. Let's see how they look."

Gregor felt invisible hands lift her into the air, grabbing her in some very inappropriate places as they did so. Almost too fast to comprehend the clothing whipped around her, encircling her body. Her shapely legs were wrenched apart and the lacy, underwear went over her feet racing up her legs until the silky fabric slammed into her crotch rubbing her new lips almost painfully. The stockings followed, slithering over her legs like snakes, the smooth fabric clung to her hairless legs while the stretchy ribbon and bow at the top gently gripped her skin just below the knees. The invisible hands forced her legs shut, causing the soft, fleshy thighs to slap together with a loud meaty clap. The short skirt flew up her legs to rest comfortably on her wide hips.

The hands moved up her body, cradling her enormous breasts lifting them obscenely into the air. The strange cupped clothing went straight for her tits. The two cups encircled her breasts holding them securely, as the straps went over her arms and came together behind her back. The hands released her chest, but her tits stayed up, protected and put on display by the clothing. The shirt followed, at least this time, Gregor knew what to expect. The buttons strained trying to hold her enormous breasts, despite the huge collar the top button flew off, embedding itself in a tree.

Finally she was set down, her feet placed almost gently in the tall shoes. Gregor stumbled, it felt like she was walking on his toes, and the cool air blew up his skirt freezing her under clothed vagina. She took a step and nearly broke her ankle as she stumbled in the high shoes, her breasts wobbled dangerously dragging her down.

Olwin was giggling like a fool, clearly enjoying the show. "You are going to be a popular girl in that outfit. Showing your ass with the slightest breeze, falling into their arms as you try to walk in those shoes. Oh, this is the least you deserve after all the trouble you caused me."

The tears started flowing again. How had this happened? What had she done to deserve this punishment? She fell to his knees, "Please master, I'll do anything, anything, just turn me back into a man."

A nasty smirk came to Olwin's lips. "Anything you say? Anything at all?"

Gregor nodded, sniffling with hope.

“Fix my house,” he ordered.

Gregor looked at the house which was still missing part of the roof, had cracks in the wall and the windows were all shattered. “I-I-I can't do that!”

“Then do something to make me turn you back.”

“I don't know what to do!” Gregor cried, big tears falling to the ground.

"A true wizard would force me to turn him back into a man. Or bargain with me. Even the lowest wizard would accept this fate with dignity. But what did you do?" Olwin sneered. "You cried and begged. If I had asked you to sell me your soul, you'd have done it. Pathetic." He headed for the house which was still missing part of the roof but was otherwise sound. "Remember this girl, magic respects strengths and confidence, and so do I. That's why you'll never be a wizard, and you'll always be a worm begging others for help. Go off find a stupid man with a lot of money and make him happy, you can at least stay out of trouble that way.”

Gregor watched him enter the house, slamming the door behind him. She was left sobbing in the dirt, wondering what she would do with the future looking dark and bleak.

**

Gregor struggled to walk down the dirt road, the rocks and pebbles made walking in her bare feet impossible, but the impossibly high heels were almost as bad making her stumble and twist her ankle with almost every step. As soon as she was out of sight of the hated house, the extremely buxom young lady stopped, glaring at her enormous breasts which kept her from seeing exactly where she was putting her feet.

“This is ridiculous. I'm a wizard, I may be a bad one but I am a wizard,” she said to herself, hands on her wide hips. “I can't do the clothes properly, so I'm stuck with this stuff for now, but there has to be something I can do for walking.”

She twisted her face up in concentration. As a man this had simply made him look constipated, but with her pretty new face, that wouldn't make young children cry, it looked quite cute. Suddenly her face lit up.

Waving her hands in the air, she chanted the magical words with a firm, feminine voice. Pointing at where she believed her feet were, since she couldn't actually see them with breasts that were still larger than watermelons, the magical energy flew from her fingers and tickled her toes.

She closed her eyes, hoping that this unlike all her other attempts would be a success, and took a step.

As her foot touched the ground, a strong breeze rose up encircling her foot, ankle and lower leg, ensuring she wouldn't stumble or twist her ankle. Giggling she jumped up and down clapping her hands, as her breasts came dangerously close to her nose. The wind kept her upright, even giving her a boost, she didn't notice that the wind also raised her short pleated skirt so high she was showing her underwear off to the world, or that blowing grass and flower petals surrounded her legs with each jump.

Happy that not only could she walk normally now, without risking a broken ankle, but she had a cast a spell that actually worked, Gregor headed for the nearest village. She needed to get some supplies if she was going to find a way to break the curse. As she walked along the road, she was amazed at the large number of cherry tree's that were just beginning to blossom. She wasn't a farmer, but she though they should blossom in spring, not early fall.

**

It was evening by the time she reached the village. She was hot, tired, smelly, and her feet ached, fortunately about an hour before reaching the village, her breasts had shrunk back to their apparently regular size, only as large as a small watermelon. Magically the shirt and underclothes she was wearing had shrunk as well. Now that they weren't so enormous and making her back ache, Gregor rather liked them. They'd be far better on an actual woman, but she had to admit as she fondled them, they were quite nice. Best of all she wouldn't have to use her rolled up socks at night anymore.

Strangely a lot of people were watching her as she walked down the road. Usually everyone ignored her, being a scrawny, little man with bad skin, who happened to wear robes. But now everyone was coming out to see her. The men seemed really friendly, saying hello, asking her if she needed help with anything, and offering her a place to stay for the night. The women, especially the younger ones who probably weren't married yet, weren't quite as friendly.

She declined the offers of a place to stay, she had been a man until that morning, she knew what they were thinking. The offers of supper were harder to turn down. But they were mostly made by ugly old farmers, with leering eyes.

She walked through the busy little village intent on reaching the inn for supper, with the wind gently blowing golden straw around her, unknowingly flashing her pink panties at all around her.

When she stepped into the noisy inn, all talking stopped.

Gregor blushed feeling the eyes on her. A few of the eyes were from handsome caravan guards and young farmers enjoying the end of a hard days work with a hot meal and a tankard of beer. Almost on cue they stood up and rushed the door, each one asking her to sit with him, showing off full money pouches, hard muscles, or offering entertaining stories and songs.

She wasn't sure if she should scream or be flattered. No one had wanted to spend time with her before, most people ran the other way if it looked like the old Gregor wanted to talk to them, seeing people almost getting into fist fights just to say hello was making her giddy.

One merchant caught her eye, he looked like a prosperous merchant and a gentleman. He saw her looking at him from his seat at the center of the inn, with a table full of food. He smiled, shook his money pouch and waved for her to come over.

“Um, Can you please let me past. I'm going to sit with that gentleman,” she said, pointing at the merchant.

Some of the farmers didn't want to let her go, begging her to eat with them. The caravan guards simply looked glum and pushed the farmers out of the way, so that the lady could eat with their employer. A quick flash of steel was enough to make even the most hard headed farmer head back to their table.

“Hello, sir,” Gregor said as she neared the table, unsure of what to do. Master Olwin hadn't wanted to risk embarrassment by taking her to any kind of social events, so Gregor had no clue of what was expected of him. The few things he'd learned about etiquette from books wasn't helpful either, as it was all based around being a man. He wasn't quite sure how things were different for a woman, but he suspected things worked differently when you didn't have a dick.

The merchant didn't seem to be at such a lose, he bowed as soon as she reached the table, taking her hand in his to kiss it gently.

“I did not think to see such beauty in a village such as this,” he said, in a strange northern accent. “Truly the gods are smiling at me to let me see someone as fair and exotic as you. What may I ask is your name, my sweet?”

She blushed, truly flattered. However, she was worried, there was a strange heat growing in her belly, and her knees felt weak. Was she getting some strange womans' sickness, or was she just exhausted from walking all day? She had no idea, so she simply sat down and tried to ignore the growing heat between her legs.

"Thank you, my name is uh, Gregora," she said.

**

Gregora could barely believe all the food that was on the table. Actually she could believe it, Master Olwin had eaten quite well, what she couldn't believe was that she could have as much as she wanted. Unless she did well in her studies, she had a filling yet boring meal of salted meat or fish, and some boiled vegetables. Since she had never done well, she had never eaten very well.

But tonight she could eat. There was fresh grilled fish covered in mint and thyme, ribs smothered in a plum wine sauce, fresh corn sitting in bowls of melted butter, honey breads, a creamy mushroom soup, and more. She ate as much as she could from each bowl, ignoring the looks of amazement at her eating.

The merchant had introduced himself as Merchant Presley from the far north earlier, but Gregora had only given him the slightest of nods. Finally he spoke, “My lady Gregora, you have an amazing appetite, which I have seldom seen in a woman, and none who is as thin and lovely as you.”

Gregora wiped her chin and hands before speaking. “I'm sorry, Presley, but I haven't eaten all day, and I had to walk all the way to town. I hope I'm not embarrassing you.”

Presley waved his hand as if to push away an annoying bug. “I would hate to see any woman go hungry while I have food and drink to give them. But how did you come to such desperate straits as this?”

After stuffing a small honey bun into her mouth and downing it with a cup of wine, Gregora finally spoke. “Well you see, sir, I was training as wizard and today was my final test. But somethings went wrong, and my Master threw me out with only these clothes and a horrible curse. I don't even have any money.”

He made a tsking sound, “That is a tragic story, and an insult to your honour, my good lady. No woman should be treated as you were. But what is this curse he gave you?”

“He made me look like this!” she cried. “And,” Gregora pulled back her hair showing the loops of gold in her ears. “You see these, they can't come off, and if I pull them they make part of my body bigger for a few hours. They're what keeps me looking like this.”

The merchant and his guards looked confused. “And this is a curse?”

“Well look at this body,” Gregora said, thrusting her tits out and actually pulling the blouse down to give them a better view. “Would you want these?”

“To hold them for a night, I would give much to be cursed in such a way,” he said with a grin, taking a sip of wine. “And you say that when your gold earrings are pulled they get bigger?”

Gregora didn't catch the smile on his face, too busy downing her second glass of wine. “Yeah, when I tried to pull them off earlier my breasts became huge, reaching all the way to my knees. It was horrible!”

Presley pulled a silver coin from his purse. “I have some knowledge of curses, I would love to see what would happen with a single tug. I may have some ideas of how to break the curse.” The silver coin danced between his fingers, until it found a home in Gregora's ample cleavage.

“Really! I'm not very good with curses, but if you could help me I'd be so happy,” Gregora squealed. She wasn't sure if it was the wine, the food, the body, or the curse, but her stomach was practically doing somersaults and the weird slit between her legs felt like it was on fire. She wasn't feeling sick anymore just really happy.

Presley leaned forward, his handsome lips just inches away from her own, his strong hand brushed her smooth, fair cheek, she felt his breath on her neck, and her entire body shivered, the fire between her legs turned into a raging inferno. He gave her earring a gentle tug.

Gregora started scratching her breasts, it wasn't as bad as before, but it wasn't pleasant. Suddenly her clothes expanded and her large breasts became even larger, pressing firmly into the merchants strong chest.

He said something in his native language. “This is a strange curse, I must see what else it will do,” he said.

Gregora simply nodded her head, feeling her nipples pressed against his warm, muscular body was making it hard for her to breath. She barely felt the series of tugs on her ears, her eyes were closed and it was all she could do to keep her hands above her waist.

Suddenly there was a scream and a crash, she opened her eyes to see the merchant sprawled on the floor and her breasts once more as long as her arms. “Oh I'm so sorry, I should have warned you!” she said trying to stand up on legs that were surprisingly wobbly.

He looked at her, his eyes bulging, mouth hanging open, and a very large bulge in his pants. “Don't worry about me, you are a goddess. I must have you!” Presley lunged to his feet, ran to Gregora and coming from the side to avoid the boulder sized tits kissed her firmly on the mouth.

Gregora was stunned. Her body seemed to melt into the handsome man, a moan rose in her throat and she opened her mouth to let his tongue enter her. Yet her brain, which still thought of itself as a male was horrified that he, uh she, was kissing a man and enjoying it.

“WAIT!” she screamed coming up for air. “I'm not sure if I should do this.”

“Gregora, you are a beautiful woman, I swear stay with me work as a wizard in my caravan and I'll shower you with treasures, simply join me in my bed and you shall want for nothing!” he swore.

Her face turned white. “You mean, like, have, s-sex?” she whispered.

“Of course, my fair lady.”

“I'm sorry, I've gotta go. Thanks for the food. Bye bye,” she gibbered.

Turning to quickly her breasts slammed into the merchant sending him to the floor again. The body guards came forward not sure if they should stop the crazy woman or help their boss up. Gregora for her part was so off balance she spun in a circle sending guards, a waitress and a few farmers who got too close falling onto their asses as they were assaulted by breasts that would be declared dangerous weapons in most countries.

As she stumbled around the room sending tables and people flying, Presley got to his feet his face red and shouted angrily, “Stop that woman!”

Gregora finally got her balance back and looked around in amazement. It looked like a tornado had gone through it, leaving farmers, guards and waitresses flat on their asses, tables overturned, food was splashed everywhere like a large scale abstract painting. The bar keep was reaching for something under his bar, murder in his eyes. The merchant Presley was getting to his feet and drawing his ornate sword, the guards who'd remained on their feet drew their own weapons.

"I think there was a misunderstanding here," Gregora said, holding her delicate hands up. "You see, this morning I was a man. I was turned into a woman. I didn't mean to do any of this, and I REALLY don't want to have sex with anyone."

The bartender stalked forward with a heavy, studded club. "I don't care who you fuck, how are you going to pay for my bar?"

Things were getting bad too quickly for Gregora to think properly. "Uh, I was his guest," she said pointing at the merchant.

"How dare you!" he shouted, his face red. "First you lie to me, then you assault me, and now you want to leave me with the bill! I'm going to get my moneys worth from you one way or another."

The guards advanced on her, they had put their swords away, but they were intimidating enough with their leather armour, large muscles and ugly leers. Gregora waved her arms and shouted a magical words. Her skin and clothes became covered in sweet smelling oil, they'd have trouble grabbing her now. `

A guard jumped at her and they went down in a pile fortunately her massive breasts softened the impact. Unfortunately she shot out of his arms like a cannon ball plowing into a group of farmers who had just gotten back on their feet. They went down in a pile of arms and legs, several of the male arms somehow managed grabbing places that were quite inappropriate.

"Hey, no grabbing my ass, or that other part!" Gregora yelled, slapping at the hands as she tried to stand up.

She yelled another spell, wind surged around her, and she leaped up on a gust of air. She landed, but her skirt didn't seem to get the message and her pink panties were prominently on display. She didn't notice that as her breasts were swinging like church bells in the wind, making the guards and farmers keep a respectful distance away from the bmd, boobs of mass destruction.

"Hah, I told you I was a wizard! Not so cocky now are you!" she shouted at them.

Gregora didn't notice the barkeepers pretty young wife, covered in quickly congealing gravy coming up behind her with a bucket of soapy water. The woman dumped it on her, instantly soaking the busty wizard, which coincidentally made her shirt turn see through, and dropped the bucket on her head for good measure. Then the pretty blonde who was busty compared to anyone except Gregora, tackled her. They fell to the wet, soapy, oily floor getting thoroughly wet and started clawing at each other. Clothes went flying, and the men stopped what they were doing to watch with avid interest.

Gregora had never been in a fight before, but she outweighed the blonde by a good fifty pounds, virtually all of it in the chest. The wind she'd summoned kept blowing as she moved and struggled, lifting their skirts and helping tear away the clothing that was suffering the worst of the fight. Gregora was too busy trying to keep the womans' hands from her throat to appreciate that this was the closest she'd been to a woman since her mother had stopped nursing her. But the men were quite impressed with her, and she was getting two to one odds on the impromptu betting.

Finally, Gregora was able to get on top of the woman, straddling her nearly naked hips, leaning forward she shoved her breasts into the barmaids' face. The soft, velvety flesh pressed against the womans' cheek, covering her mouth, suffocating her in tits. Gregora grabbed her breasts, leaning down, smiling she'd finally won something. It was amazing.

The smile turned to a soundless scream of agony as a knee connected to Gregora's clit. Paralyzed by pain the wizard fell to the side, the bar shook as her breasts hit the floor, and the crowd went wild.

Gregora came to slowly, and through tears of pain saw the bartender happily counting money. “Hey honey,” the bartender said, “can you come back next week? I made enough on bets tonight to cover the damages, and I can add another level to the bar now. I'll give you free beer, and supper.”

“Uh, no,” she squeaked.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but there is still the matter of my humiliation. I demand satisfaction!” Presley said, drawing his sword. Gregora noticed that his money purse looked surprisingly empty.

“Listen, I am really, really sorry about all of that. But I think that I should really just leave,” Gregora said.

The merchant sneered. “You're not going anywhere, until I say you can, bitch.”

“Excuse me, but I think you should let the lady go,” a deep voice said.

Everyone looked at the door where a massive, dark skinned man, with carefully braided long black hair stood, casually holding a sword as long as Gregora.

**

Gregora looked between Presley and the handsome warrior, hope flared up in her heart. The newcomer looked like a warrior from the stories, he'd help her. She just had to make sure not to knock him out when she turned around.

“Who are you?” Presley asked with a sneer.

The warrior thrust his chest out, “I'm Conner of White Haven. And you are?”

“I am the merchant Presley from North Harbour, it is a pleasure to meet you Conner. However this woman owes me, and if you try to defend her it shall go poorly for you,” the merchant threatened. His guards drew their weapons.

Conner ignored the guards as if they were less than nothing. “What exactly does she owe you?”

“She ate at my table, took my silver, and then when I went to take my payment that she had implied upon meeting, she objected and used her powers to destroy the bar and humiliate my men and I,” he stated, slamming his fist on the table. “I now demand satisfaction,”

“I didn't know you wanted to have sex with me!” Gregora shouted, her nearly naked breasts jiggling as she shouted.

The warrior looked at her, “Did they hurt you?”

Gregora shook her head. “No, but the blonde woman has a bloody hard knee,” she said pointing at the inn keepers wife.

“Why did you eat with the merchant?” he asked her.

“I was hungry, and he got my attention by waving a bag of coins at me. I thought he was just trying to call me over,” Gregora explained.

Conner frowned at her. “You've led a very sheltered life. What's your name?”

She tried to cross her arms, but her breasts wouldn't let her, so she put her hands on her hips. “My name's Gregora, and I was a wizards apprentice for the last ten years. Stuff like this doesn't exactly happen often in a cottage in the woods.”

“I see. Where are you going lady?” Conner asked, raising his massive sword a little when some of Presley's guards started to edge towards him.

She shrugged, pointing at her body. “I'm looking for a way to end my curse. I just don't know where to start looking.”

The warrior smiled. “Ah, you're on a quest, you'll have to do some research than. Merchant, where are you going?”

Presley looked confused at the sudden turn in the conversation. “I'm traveling to the city state of Rushalli, I have a load of fur and wine for the sailing captains there. Why?”

“Perfect!” the well muscled young man sheathed his sword and walked up to the merchant his hand outstretched, much to Presley's discomfort. “Rushalli is the best place to find out how to end a curse, and I'm going in that direction myself. Merchant the wizard and I would like to work with you, simply for the price of room and board and first pick of the loot of any bandits we slay.”

“WHAT!” Gregora and Presley shouted in unison.

He sighed and rolled his eyes as if baffled at their stupidity. Pointing at Gregora first, “You need to find a way to end your curse, you'll find the answers in Rushalli. They have scholars, wizards and tales from across the world, it's the perfect place to start. As for you Merchant Presley, she is a wizard, and I'm the strongest warrior this side of the Blood River. While you can't sleep with her unless you can woo her on the journey, she and I will provide you with ample protection on the journey, far more than the simple cost of room and board. And if you want someone to warm your bed, I'd be happy to help,” he finished with a smile.

Presley backed away, when he heard the final offer, although one of the older guards smiled and gave the warrior a discrete wave. With only a little hesitation the merchant nodded his head. “Fine, room and board, but you sir will get the same room and board as my other guards, as for the lying wench, she'll have her own tent when we sleep outside, and a small room if we're at an inn. Take it or prepare to defend yourselves.”

Conner looked at Gregora, “Agreed?”

Without knowing of a better plan, she shrugged her shoulders. “Fine, agreed. Can I get a room now? I need to make some more clothes,” she said looking at her oily, dirty and very ripped clothes.

**

There was a knock on her door later that night, wrapping her slightly too small robe around her steadily shrinking tits Gregora opened the door. Conner was standing there his sword still strapped to this back, his shirt was unbuttoned showing off his muscular, scarred abs and pecs.

“May I come in?” he asked.

Gregora felt that heat coming back to her pelvis, she'd have to ask a doctor about that problem. “Yes of course,” she said, moving the stack of clothes she'd created from the stool to the bed.

The warrior sat down and stared at her breasts. “Um, are you only here to look?” she asked, wrapping the robe even tighter around her and wondered why she felt so breathless.

His blush was barely noticeable against his dark skin, “I'm sorry, I just noticed your chest had become smaller. I thought that it was only the male anatomy that did that.”

“It's my curse, if I pull these earrings my breasts get bigger,” she said pointing at her ears.

He looked at the hooped earrings closely. “Interesting curse. Why don't you just stop pulling your ears?”

“The earring are also keeping me in the this body, I can't change or anything with these things on,” she complained.

Conner frowned, “Why would you want to change? Most women would love to have a body like that.”

“Do you want a body like this?” Gregora demanded.

“If I had it, I wouldn't complain. It's very pretty,” he said.

“Well I don't want it. I want my old body back,” she said feeling tears well up in her eyes.

His large hand went to her shoulder, the calloused fingers were surprisingly gentle. “Gregora, I will help you get as far as Rushalli and into the presence of a wizard or someone who can help you. And if during the journey we get along I may help you in whatever way I can to end the curse.”

“Really?” she asked in wonder. So few people had offered to help her in her life she started to cry.

“Really, my word is my bond,” he said, clenching his hands together.

She threw her arms around him, crushing her nipples against his rock solid chest. Conner gingerly patted her on the back, fidgeting until she finally let go. “Ah, well I have to go now. I promised to meet a guard for a game of late night poker. Sleep well, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, Gregora.”

“I will, enjoy your game Conner. And thank you!” she said as he walked out the door.

A large smile came to his lips. “Oh I will enjoy him.”

**

The next morning Gregora woke up feeling like a great weight had been taken off of her chest. Sitting up proved that this really was true as her breasts were back to their normal size. Getting dressed in a long, silky white gown with a neckline that reached her belly button, yet still somehow moulded itself to her chest, she put the other skimpy clothes she'd made into a small bag and headed downstairs. This was quite different from her regular morning routine which would have involved a very short trip to the privy and two minutes of quick work to relieve some pressure down below. However with the loss of his little friend that was no longer possible. This did put a damper on her day, but seeing as there was very little she could do about it she simply headed downstairs for breakfast.

Downstairs the merchants guards were eating the left overs of the night before, cold meat, watery beer, some sharp cheese, and pickles. They whistled at her when they saw her outfit, asking her to sit beside them, or on them, offering her tasty high protein sauce to go with her food. Gregora felt her cheeks turn red, and hurriedly sat down at a nearly empty table, although she did notice to her dismay that her hips were swaying more than usual, and the enchantment she'd cast made her skirt rise a little higher it had upstairs.

As she ate her breakfast, Conner and the older guardsmen came stumbling in. The older man was walking very stiffly for some reason, as if he had a pain in his backside, but he seemed quite happy, clapping Conner on the back and asking if he might see the swordsman large sword again later. Conner simply nodded with a smile and went to sit beside Gregora.

"Did you enjoy your poker game?" she asked.

He smiled quite happily. "Oh yes, he didn't have the largest hand, but he was quite good with what he had. Did you sleep well?"

"It was ok, although trying piss without a dick is bloody awkward, how do women hit the bucket?" she complained.

The large warrior squinted at her as if she was some confusing new creature. "As I understand it, it's all about positioning."

"Well, it's very awkward. When the gods designed women they didn't put much thought into it," she grumped.

"I don't believe I've ever met a woman quite like you before," he observed. "Why are you, a beautiful woman who is obviously not shy about showing it off, so unhappy all the time?"

"Because I don't want to be a beautiful woman. Who in their right mind would want these heavy lumps of flesh hanging from their chest? This long hair that doesn't do anything you want it to? These ludicrous hips that sway everywhere? And worst of all no dick to make pissing in the privy easier?" she almost shouted, drawing stares and nervous looks from the men, and glares from the women.

Conner looked at her wistfully. "Yes, who would ever want those?"

The merchant came in. "Men! We leave in Five minutes. Be ready or be left behind." With a glare at Gregora and Conner, he stomped over to the innkeeper and pulled out his money pouch.

"I don't think he likes us very much," Gregora said, quietly.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Conner asked dryly.
**

Things improved as the merchant caravan left with the rising of the sun. The men were very helpful, almost fighting each other to boost Gregora onto the wagon, although she thought that the burly teamster didn't have to cradle her ass quite so much as he lifted her into the air. Watching the last minute preparations done by be pare chested, well built, sweaty men made her feel strangely hot again. She remembered the feeling of the large hands on her ass and started wiggling in her seat trying to scratch an itch inside of her. As the men glanced at her she thrust her ample breasts out a little more. The low, low cleavage, showed off the sides of her breasts very nicely, so much so, that the teamsters and guards all found reasons to go by her, even if it was in the opposite direction.

"What is going on here! Get back to work!" Presley shouted. As the men hurriedly got moving again, the merchant stomped over to Gregora, removing his cloak as he did so. "Apprentice, it is cold this morning and that, dress, is not fit for this weather. I insist you take my cloak."

It was a little cold, and she realized that her large nipples were erect, it was almost as bad as having a hard on, although the nipples at least didn't interfere with walking. "Why thank you, sir. That is very kind of you," she said, wrapping herself inthe warm cloak.

"It's my pleasure," he said walking away. Gregora thought she heard him mutter something about wanton whores, but it was quiet enough she couldn't be sure.

Conner walked up to her polishing his long sword. “Gregora, do you understand what you have to do?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“Have you ever been in a caravan before?”

“No.”

“Ever talk to a person who has been on a caravan?”

“No.”

“Listened to stories about caravans?'”

“No.”

“Imagined yourself going on a caravan?”

“No.”

Conner rubbed his forehead. “Ok. I'll be riding up ahead, scouting for bandits, dangers and problems. You'll stay on this wagon, and watch for possible dangers. If someone attacks us, use your magic to fight or scare them off. Can you do that?”

She looked a little nervous but after a small hesitation she nodded. “I can do that.”
“Could you possibly see ahead of us? Looking for problems before we see them.”

She turned pale, thinking of how disastrous her last attempt at scrying had turned out. “NO! I don't have the supplies. No, no, no.”

He clicked his teeth in discouragement. “Oh well. It can't be helped. Just keep your eyes open and if you can think of anything that could help us let me or Merchant Presley know.”

“I will. I won't screw up this time,” she said, puffing out her ample chest.

With a friendly pat on her knee, Conner went to the front of the caravan and got on his large black horse. A minute later the wagons started moving and they were on their way.

**
Gregora sat on the wagon, bored out of her mind as the driver controlled the horses and kept looking at her breasts. She quickly realized that the life of a caravan worker was mostly filled with tree's, dust, smelly horses and boredom. Even walking in her stupid shoes the other day, she had been faster than the caravan was moving, with it's wheezing mules and pack animals. Blowing the hair out of her eyes, she wondered when something interesting would happen.

She realized that there might be something she could do. Conner had asked if she could scry, and that was impossible even if she was willing to try, but there was a spell she was quite good at. She'd used it all the time to tell when her Master was in a really bad mood.

Pulling out a knife, she pricked her wrist just hard enough to draw a bit of blood. Whispering a short chant in magick, the blood formed a rune on her hand, opening her mind up a little. Now she would be able to tell if anyone meant to cause her harm. If bandits were going to attack, they would want to take out the magician first after all, so she'd have at least a little warning.

An arrow appeared in her mind, it pointed straight at the Presley. A feeling of loathing washed over her.
Her eyes widened in fright. Why would the merchant hate her so much. It came to her in a flash.

The merchant had to be planning on robbing the caravan, her getting a place in it was going to mess up his plan, so he obviously wanted to get rid of her. She had to tell someone, but who would believe her? She didn't know anyone here.

But wait, she thought to herself. Why would the merchant want to rob his own caravan?

Unless the merchant wasn't carrying all his own things. Maybe he was a junior merchant and this was his masters or partners goods. If he was robbed, he could get all the money from selling the items, and his master would be left with nothing. It was the perfect crime.

Gregora realized she was chewing on her hair, usually she chewed her nails, but the hair was more convenient, with the way it kept trying to get into her mouth anyways. She realized that Conner was the only one who might listen to her. Unfortunately he was up ahead and she had no idea when he would come back.

There was nothing to do but wait and prepare. She thought about the spells she could use that might help. She had some protection spells, and there was one spell that would give a nasty sting, but they wouldn't do much to protect the caravan. That was a big problem. If Conner didn't come back in time, it was up to her to protect Presley's caravan from Merchant Presley. She put her chin in her hand and thought about what she could do to possibly help.

**

There was a short break to water and feed the horses, check the loads and let the men stretch, water the flowers and eat while sitting still. Conner came back while another group of guards went off ahead. Gregora after taking care of her own personal business, she'd been able to avoid getting her feet wet this time, found him talking to the old friendly guard, they were planning another poker game that night.

“Conner! Conner! I have to talk to you alone, it's really important!” she said.

Conner gave the old guard a very friendly hug, before walking off the road with her. “What's the matter?”

“I cast a spell and Presley is going to rob the caravan!” she said.

Conner, stared at her for a minute, several times it looked like he was going to say something only to stop and think some more. Finally with his head cocked to the side, he asked, “Why is the merchant going to rob his own caravan?”

“Well he probably has partners and masters and things. And if he robs his caravan, he sells everything. His partners are left with nothing. He gets all the gold. It's perfect!”

The warrior scratched his head, his eyes closed. “How did you come up with that idea?”

She held up her bloody hand. “I cast Spy Dar Sense, it lets me know if someone wants to hurt me. Presley really, really hates me.”

“And you think that means he wants to rob the caravan?”

She nodded. “I'm a magic user, he must be worried that I will stop him.”

He put his enormous, scarred hand on her shoulder. “I don't think that proves he wants to rob the caravan. But you probably should keep an eye out for bandits just to be on the safe side. Watch VERY closely and if bandits attack you can stop them before they do any damage. Ok?”

“So we have to wait until he strikes, before we strike back?”

“Yes,” he said very slowly.

“Alright, I'll do that. No one will get past me,” she said thrusting out her chest and chin.

He ushered her back to the wagons that were preparing to move again. “That's a good attitude lets get going now.”

With a new sense of duty, Gregora took her seat again scanning the woods for any sign of danger.

**

Gregora wanted sleep. It was an hour until they reached the next town where they would spend the night, they were surrounded by thick forests on both sides which was turning the road into a dark, shadowy tunnel and after sitting on a wagon all day, she was ready to sleep. Only the pain from her breasts and back both of which had been bouncing up and down all day kept her from dozing off. At least the extra padding on her ass made the wooden seat somewhat comfortable.

She jerked awake as one of the guards shouted a warning. Arrows flew from the woods, striking wood and flesh.

Her hands flashed and she shouted a word of power, a shimmering field of energy erupted around her, strong enough to keep any arrows from hurting her. She'd spent two months learning it after accidentally summoning a beehive when trying to make honey, she hadn't been able to see through the swelling for a week after that accident.

The teamsters ducked under the wagons, while the guards ran at the bandits. She saw Conner jumping into a bush, which promptly began screaming. Something moved in a tree, there was a flash of metal. Gregora's hair formed a halo around her head, with a shout mystical energy flowed from her to the bandit. A startled yell rose up, clothes, boots, weapons and hair flew out of the tree in a wide circle, followed by a very naked, very bald man. The chicken plucking spell was one of her best.

More arrows came from the top of a small cliff, the guards who were trying to reach the bandits ducked for cover, cursing and yelling. With a sweep of her hands, she cast her warming spell for cold nights, at their feet. The five men began jumping up and down as their shoes caught fire. She smiled, this was fun.

A group of bandits had circled Conner, who was holding them back bellowing for help. She had just the thing. Making a face, she whistled and pointed at the five attackers. Instantly a strong breeze rose up, covering the men in dirt and leaves. For some reason the cleaning spell always did the opposite of what she wanted. Conner used the distraction well, slicing them down with his huge sword.

The surviving bandits seeing their numbers falling, ran away.

She saw Presley running along the caravan, yelling angrily. Frowning at him, she realized he must be trying to call back his bandits.

With a word, she cast another spell.

Presley stopped in his tracks, his clothes sopping wet and covered in soap. He looked at Gregora his face turning red. Then the harsh lye soap began to react to his skin. With a scream he scrambled to rip his clothes off as his skin felt like it was on fire.

She'd never quite got the hang of the clothes cleaning spell, for some reason the clothes never got dried, and the soap was harsh enough to peel paint.

**

Gregora and Conner sat at the very back of the tavern. Presley glowered at her from across the room, his skin covered in a red rash, while he wore his loosest and softest clothing.

“How was I to know he wasn't trying to rob his own caravan?” she asked Conner quietly.