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Description
Sheriff Sharra swirled her dustcloak around her shoulders and stepped outside the constabulary and into the streets of the small town of Siar at the edge of the Kantasinda Flats. The town was little more than an inn, a general store, and fifty-odd houses. It was one of the last refuges for fortune seekers and caravans on their way south to Yinn.

The long circle around the desert took the caravans hundreds of miles out of their way, but to cut across the Kantasinda flats was unthinkably risky, an invitation to be pillaged or worse. Even the occasional caravan was taken at the edge of the desert. The Kantisindi tribeswomen that inhabited the flats were, as a rule, gigantic, violent and scorchingly horny. The only beings that could hope to safely cross the flats were the region's other indigenous inhabitants, the plantlike Cacta people. The green-colored Cacta had water-filled flesh that was covered with many tiny spines that discouraged the disconcerting Kantisindi tendency to hump anything even vaguely woman-shaped. Humans had no such luck.

One of her deputies came riding up, eyes wide, horse blowing and winded. "Sharra!" he said. "It's just like we heard. Kantisindi at the south edge of town, about a quarter league out!"

"Dammit," she growled. She quickly saddled her own horse, and swung up into the saddle. Turning her mount to the south, she pulled the spyglass from her belt and uncollapsed it. She peered into the distance.

She saw an gigantic pale airship balloon floating there, with five enormous-breasted Kantisindi cavorting and writhing together on a hammock of black rope hanging beneath the balloon. Almost as a rule, their breasts were always gigantic; their bodies stored water there as an adaptation to the desert. The ship was sitting stationary in the air a few fathoms off the ground. Focusing the spyglass, Sharra saw that the 'balloon' was obviously Lana, who had gone missing a month ago. The woman's straining face was visible with eyes screwed shut; her head was half sunken into her enormous body's spherical surface. Sharra grimaced, one hand to her stomach in silent sympathy. The Kantisindi did that to captives sometimes; filling them at one of the Kantasinda Flats' helium geysers and using them as an obscene form of transportation. Bizarre things went on in their desert.

"Poor Lana," she murmured. "But better her than me," she added internally, silently thankful. They'd both been there during that raid. A patrol had found a small Kantisindi camp, and fought the three Kantisindi there until they had retreated into the desert, or so it seemed. In the tents they'd found a few heavily pregnant human women, bellies swollen so large that they could not even be carried, much less walk unaided. It wasn't known what witchcraft the all-female Kantisindi used to make human women pregnant, but it was an all-too-common occurrence. The decision had been made to go back to town for a wagon to carry the swollen women. When the wagon had returned, the Kantisindi attacked again by surprise while the rescued women were being loaded onboard.

The desert savages had never intended to retreat, she'd realized. They'd known that the humans would need wagons to get the enormous freed captives back to town, and were hoping to get some free additional livestock out of the deal rather than overwhelming the humans immediately. Only Sharra had escaped the second attack, slashing one of the horses free from the wagon train and riding away. No sign of Lana, the captives, or any of the other deputies had been found until now. Guilt twinged her about the event, but the desert demanded simple pragmatism. She would have accomplished nothing if she'd stayed, and it could very well have been her own enormous body floating above the desert right now. Or maybe pregnant beyond belief like those captives they'd found, middles swollen like they'd swallowed three dozen watermelons.

But why were the Kantisindi floating there in their 'ship' right at the outskirts of town? It was unprecedented. They were known to use such human 'ships' in the inner desert, but rarely near the human lands. The sun must have glinted off the lens of the spyglass then, as one of the Kantisindi turned her attention from the near-orgy going on in the balloon's hammock, looked directly at Sharra, and made an obscene gesture. Then the woman deliberately turned back to kissing and groping her partner in the blimp's hammock below Lana's overstretched body.

Sharra clucked and snapped the reins, bringing her horse to a trot as she rode towards the edge of town to investigate. As she passed the inn, the sounds of some kind of melee echoed from within. She hurriedly dismounted and tied her horse to the hitching post, then ran up the creaking wooden steps and peered in through the swing door. She gasped.

A Kantisindi woman stood in the center of the tavern, trying to pull a shrieking barmaid down from the rafter she was clinging to. The desert barbarian was more than seven feet tall, towering over everyone else in the room. She was bare from the waist up, and clad only in a loincloth below. The woman's wobbling, bare breasts were the size of butter churns. They were doubtless full of gallon upon gallon of stored water. In the light of the fireplace, her skin gleamed as if it was oiled. She tugged and yanked on the frantic maid's legs, yelling, "You come down! I not bite much! Maybe only a little!"

An underequipped bouncer was clubbing resolutely at the Kantisindi woman's back with a stout cudgel, to no seeming effect. He stood on tiptoe and landed one swing at the base of her skull, with a loud crack. The giant woman spun, keeping hold on the maid's ankle with her left hand while cradling the base of her own head in the right.

"You stop!" the Kantisindi woman snarled. "Not interrupt!" She snatched the club away from the bouncer and smashed it into flinders with one swing against the table. She swung her torso to the side sharply, and one mammoth breast impacted against the man with a gigantic slap, knocking him back and sending him tumbling across the floor. Satisfied, the giant woman returned her full attention to the waitress clinging to the ceiling rafters, standing on tiptoe and grabbing the woman's skirts while laughing with glee.

Sharra inhaled and gathered her courage. Here went nothing.

There were a few sure-fire ways to distract one of the desert women. Striding across the room, she stopped directly behind the Kantisindi woman. She gulped, noticing that the woman's large behind was almost level with her collar in height. Sharra pulled her arm back and spanked the Kantisindi woman's right buttock as hard as she could, the impact of her palm sounding as loud as a tree limb snapping. The force of the blow left her hand tingling.

Dead silence filled the room. From up above, the barmaid looked down at her in horror. The Kantisindi woman let go of the waitress and slowly turned, her gigantic breasts filling most of Sharra's field of view. A slow, disbelieving smile crept across the barbarian's face.

"Nice ass," Sharra said, loudly. She understood that was one of the more direct invitations of challenge in the Kantisindi culture. The Kantisindi woman struck with the speed of a rattlesnake and seized Sharra by the collar of her jerkin and hoisted her effortlessly into the air until the sheriff's face was level with her own. The woman's enormous breasts pressed heavily against the outside of the Sharra's arms. The sheriff's boots were dangling two feet from the floor.

"You look for trouble, tiny?" the desert woman said. Her expression was a grin of extreme amusement and a rather fixed stare of arousal. Not a good combination in the Kantisindi.

"I was about ask you the same question," Sharra said, still dangling in the air. "Minus the 'Tiny,'" She stuck out her chin in defiance.

The Kantisindi woman hauled Sharra in towards her mouth and kissed her passionately, the motion sandwiching the smaller woman inside her cleavage. Sharra flailed inside the boob prison, thrashing. She opened her mouth to yell, and this, in hindsight, was a terrible plan. As soon as the sheriff's mouth opened, the kiss became seriously invasive. The average Kantisindi tongue was about as long as Sharra's forearm, and nearly as thick. This one was currently going spelunking down her throat. In a rage, the sheriff bit down on the offending tongue. The desert barbarian grunted, but rather than cutting off the woman's kiss it became even more frenzied and passionate. The desert women were all completely mad. After far too long, the Kantisindi woman broke off the kiss.

"You fun," the desert tribeswoman said. Sharra shook her head with bleary effort, struggling to clear it.

"What the hell are you doing in my town!" she managed to squeeze out at last, though the words sounded strangled and breathless. She felt fitfully for the floor with questing feet, but was embarrassed to find herself still squarely held off the ground.

"Come to trade," the Kantisindi said. "Come to bar. Buy alcohol. Bar wench say no. So decide to play with her instead. Then you come in."

"Trade!" Sharra laughed, with more than a hint of a sneer. "Did you honestly think you would be welcome here?" With a grunt, the Kantisindi dropped her, and the sheriff tottered unsteadily and nearly fell.

"Not stupid. Know we not welcome here." Suddenly, a large pouch was held in the woman's hand; it jingled appreciatively. Sharra didn't know where the nearly naked woman had been keeping that. She decided on reflection that she didn't want to know. The barbarian hefted the pouch. "Gold welcome here, though. Yes?"

Sharra glanced back and forth between the pouch and the woman's face. There were no regular trade dealings with the Kantisindi. They had no official standing in the empire. But reclaiming that much gold from the hated Kantisindi's raiding would do much for the ailing town.

"Maybe. What do you want?" she said.

"Ale," the Kantisindi said, licking her lips. "Is good. Have five tens and three gold here in pouch. Want buy twenty kegs of ale." As she spoke she caressed the top slope of her left breast lazily. Sharra tried not to look at it. Kantisindi chests always looked monstrously ballooned and impossible. More than a few of the bar patrons were making no particular effort to not look at them, Sharra noticed. Irritating.

"For twenty kegs, you give us the fifty-three gold and let Lana go. She's the one you've got floating out there with your friends," Sharra said immediately, hoping to bargain for the woman's release. A lascivious grin spread across the Kantisindi's face.

"Really let her go? Big balloon like her? She float away," she laughed, seeming to find the notion hysterical. "Want her float away?"

"Give her back to us," the sheriff clarified, growling. The desert woman shook her head, long black tresses brushing across her back. She started down with a smug air of superiority.

"Take much longer to get back to desert without balloon. You want balloon back, you trade seventy-five kegs instead," she said.

"The whole town doesn't have that much alcohol in it," the sheriff protested. "We would have to get shipments. Give us some time and we can work something out." The desert woman shrugged noncommittally in response.

"Then we keep balloon until then. Not waste time. She be bigger before too long," the woman said, leering at Sharra's discomfiture. "For now, you sell twenty kegs for this gold, or we not ever give balloon back."

The sheriff bristled. She would be damned if she let the desert women take advantage of her over the bargaining table. "For that price, we'll sell you five kegs. No more. You think I don't know where that money's come from? By imperial law I shouldn't sell you a drop." The giant woman frowned and lifted a corner of her lip in disdain. She set her hands to her hips and loomed over Sharra, causing the Kantisindi's enormous breasts to wobble.

"Fifteen kegs," she said with a sneer. "Or else maybe we so disappointed someone forget to tie balloon down tonight after trip home. Big shame." The desert barbarian leaned forward at the waist until her smiling face was level with Sharra's own several feet below, her breasts pooling across the table in front of her. Sharra leaned back, worried the crazy giantess was going to try and kiss her again. The table's legs strained under the weight of the woman's mammaries. "Is fair price. Take fair price and maybe in few weeks we let you buy balloon back for more kegs," the Kantisindi woman murmured. Sharra understood the reason for Lana's monstrously ballooned presence at the outskirts of town now...she was both transportation to carry the goods back, and implicit hostage insurance.

Sharra held the woman's gaze for a few long seconds before growling in her throat and turning towards the bar maid. "Get fifteen kegs," Sharra snapped. She snatched the pouch of coins from the giant woman, who released them with a smirk. "Pile up the barrels outside."

"Not need stupid barrels. Just want what in them!" the desert woman said, straightening up to her full height again. Her head almost touched the rafters. Sharra's mouth fell open and she rubbed the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb in frustration.

"I'm aware of that," she groaned. "But how else will you get-" she began, a patronizing tone creeping into her voice.

"Drink!" the woman said, stomping over to the bar. She walked passed Sharra, the smaller woman only coming up to her elbow. With a squeal of abused chair legs, the giant woman sat down at the bar. She flopped her enormous tits onto the bar itself, and they lay there, covering a significant fraction of the surface and wobbling.

"Excuse me?" Sharra said. "You're planning to DRINK fifteen kegs of ale?" The Kantisindi shot her a resentful look.

"Was planning to drink twenty, but human too stingy," she said. Surely she was exaggerating. The Kantisindi reputation for liquid capacity was legendary, but that was absurd.

"Fine! Drink till your boobs pop for all I care! Just get your booze and get out of my town!" Sharra spun and marched towards the door, not having a good day.

"W-where are you going!?" the bar maid wailed. "Don't leave while she's still here! Who knows what she'll do!"

The sheriff stopped and let out a long sigh. Her shoulders tensed and she slowly turned to walk wearily towards the bar. She pulled out a stool and sat down, leaving one empty stool between her and the desert giantess. "Okay," Sharra said, sounding exhausted and put-upon. She slowly paddled a hand through the air in a 'get on with it' gesture. The serving girl headed into the back.

The Kantisindi woman slowly reached out an arm to her right, and then suddenly brought it down in an open-palmed blow to the stool between her and Sharra. The chair burst apart at the joints and tumbled to the floor looking like a swatted wooden spider. The woman reached over further and took hold of one of the legs of Sharra's chair, and suddenly dragged the sheriff over next to her, into the space vacated by the recently destroyed chair. The legs of the stool squealed in a high pitched whine across the floor as she was pulled. Sharra's closed her eyes and rested her head in her palm.

The desert barbarian threw an arm around Sharra's shoulders and pulled inward, dragging Sharra even closer to her and mashing the smaller woman's face against the side of one enormous breast.

"Mmmpgh!" Sharra grunted, squirming and trying to get free against the giant woman's ridiculous strength. Kantisindi skin was naturally oiled and slippery, and Sharra's face and jerkin were a mess from the breast contact. Up above her, her new 'friend' grinned broadly.

The serving maid came to her salvation by rolling a keg out from the back. She quickly set an empty tankard before the desert giantess and began tapping the keg. The Kantisindi picked up the cup skeptically.

"What this?" she asked, inspecting the tin tankard. Still squashed against the woman's breast, Sharra growled.

"It's a cup," she said, voice muffled by boobs almost as big as she was. "Don't you have cups in the desert?" she demanded.

The Kantisindi woman's arm around Sharra's shoulders dropped, and the woman's hand brazenly squeezed Sharra's front, her cupped palm groping and lifting Sharra's right breast beneath the jerkin. Sharra screeched.

"Of course!" the woman said. "Know all about cupping things!" She squeezed the Sheriff again for good measure. Honk honk.

"For gods sake!" Sharra said, pawing at the woman's side and trying to push herself free. She only accomplished setting up an obscene fluid wave bouncing around in the Kantisindi's gigantic chest. "That's a cup! You put things in it to drink more conveniently!" the Sharra growled, stabbing a finger towards the tankard. She sensed that she'd long ago lost control of this particular situation. Mercifully the barmaid filled the tankard with ale and set it before the desert woman again.

The woman picked it up and sniffed at it.

"Good!" she said. She tilted her head back and drank. From her position squashed against the woman's breast, Sharra could just barely see by looking straight upwards. The Kantasindi woman didn't drink and swallow, she simply poured the drink straight down her throat in one smooth motion, no swallowing. Sharra felt the breast she was pressed against wobble slightly bigger. The desert tribe girl made a noise of enjoyment.

"Good!" she repeated, sighing and smacking her lips. "Humans bad at fighting. But you good at making ale and being balloons!"

"Gee, thanks. Very gracious of you," Sharra growled, still pawing listlessly to try and shove herself away from the giant woman's arm around her neck.

"Cup small though," she said with disdain. "Not good." She held out the tankard again, and the barmaid quickly filled it with shaking hands.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the desert barbarian drank her fill, downing tankard after tankard. The Sheriff squirmed in her grasp and tried to escape from being squashed against the woman's breasts- they were blowing up to insane proportions with the alcohol that was filling them. Each cup of ale seemed to produce a moan of physical pleasure from the woman. Every tankard-full swelled her gigantic breasts slightly more. She never seemed to actually get drunk...not the way a human would. Just....giggly. And grabby. More so. Sharra surmised this was because majority of the alcohol was just sitting in the woman's breasts.

By the time she'd finished two kegs, the woman's mammaries had almost doubled in size. By the time she'd finished eight kegs, the bar was distinctly beginning to bow slightly under their weight. After twelve, Sharra was beginning to wonder in horror if those breasts would even fit out the door. When the last drop from the fifteenth keg had vanished down the Kantisindi woman's lips, the sheriff was beginning to fear some kind of detonation. Each breast looked utterly replete, near spherical, with the skin as taut as a drumhead.

"Ah-h-h," the Kantisindi warrior sighed, slapping one breast in satisfaction. That slap was the last straw for the bar, collapsing under the impact of even a little extra force. It gave way, leaving the the woman's breasts wobbling obscenely atop the rubble. She regarded it with mild surprise, and finally released Sharra, who gasped for air. She dabbed her cloak at her jerkin that was completely coated in oil from contact with the woman's skin.

"This why not need stupid wood kegs. Flesh kegs better!" the Kantisindi moaned, rubbing her breasts languidly. "I go now. After tribe done with this ale, we back for more. Be ready then with more kegs if you want balloon back." She stepped back from the bar, her immense boobs reaching quite near the ground now. They met with a gigantic slap after being robbed of the support of the bar. They visibly inflated several more inches as the carbonation within the beer bubbled up, causing flesh-creaking sounds of tightness. "Oof," she grunted. She kneeled down and gathered the immense tan spheres in her arms and stood, lifting with her legs. Those ale-filled breasts weighted hundreds of pounds, wobbling in her grasp like unruly boulders. She squeezed through the door frame with obvious effort and went jiggling down the main road down to the sand, the townsfolk watching her go, with varying amounts of distrust, anger, or interest, depending on personal disposition.

It wasn't until the Kantisindi girls in the balloon were helping to tug the ale-titted woman aboard Lana's gigantic, round body that Sharra realized she hadn't asked the woman what good it did them for a single Kantisindi to come fill themselves to the gills with alcohol when that left the rest of the tribe with thirst unslaked. It was just as well that she hadn't asked. As soon as the other Kantisindi had pulled her aboard, the others pounced on her and began busily sucking at her breasts with obvious relish. It was another detail of Kantisindi biology that Sharra could have happily gone without knowing.

She tilted the view of her telescope up slightly, staring at Lana's puffy face almost lost amid the enormity of her spherical body. Sharra knew she was far too distant from Lana for the spherical woman to see her without a spyglass, but still...she couldn't help but read a hurt accusation in Lana's chubby face. The look wasn't cut off until one of the Kantisindi crawled up Lana's rope-covered side to lock lips with Lana and suck some of the heavier air-ballast out of her gigantic, helium-filled body. Lana slowly began to drift upwards, catching a desert wind as she rose and beginning to blow back out to the desert along with her crew of enormous-breasted Kantisindi. Shara felt guilty, turning towards her office and resolving to put in a requisition for some additional kegs of ale to ransom Lana back whenever the desert women got thirsty again.

Description
Sheriff Sharra swirled her dustcloak around her shoulders and stepped outside the constabulary and into the streets of the small town of Siar at the edge of the Kantasinda Flats. The town was little more than an inn, a general store, and fifty-odd houses. It was one of the last refuges for fortune seekers and caravans on their way south to Yinn.

The long circle around the desert took the caravans hundreds of miles out of their way, but to cut across the Kantasinda flats was unthinkably risky, an invitation to be pillaged or worse. Even the occasional caravan was taken at the edge of the desert. The Kantisindi tribeswomen that inhabited the flats were, as a rule, gigantic, violent and scorchingly horny. The only beings that could hope to safely cross the flats were the region's other indigenous inhabitants, the plantlike Cacta people. The green-colored Cacta had water-filled flesh that was covered with many tiny spines that discouraged the disconcerting Kantisindi tendency to hump anything even vaguely woman-shaped. Humans had no such luck.

One of her deputies came riding up, eyes wide, horse blowing and winded. "Sharra!" he said. "It's just like we heard. Kantisindi at the south edge of town, about a quarter league out!"

"Dammit," she growled. She quickly saddled her own horse, and swung up into the saddle. Turning her mount to the south, she pulled the spyglass from her belt and uncollapsed it. She peered into the distance.

She saw an gigantic pale airship balloon floating there, with five enormous-breasted Kantisindi cavorting and writhing together on a hammock of black rope hanging beneath the balloon. Almost as a rule, their breasts were always gigantic; their bodies stored water there as an adaptation to the desert. The ship was sitting stationary in the air a few fathoms off the ground. Focusing the spyglass, Sharra saw that the 'balloon' was obviously Lana, who had gone missing a month ago. The woman's straining face was visible with eyes screwed shut; her head was half sunken into her enormous body's spherical surface. Sharra grimaced, one hand to her stomach in silent sympathy. The Kantisindi did that to captives sometimes; filling them at one of the Kantasinda Flats' helium geysers and using them as an obscene form of transportation. Bizarre things went on in their desert.

"Poor Lana," she murmured. "But better her than me," she added internally, silently thankful. They'd both been there during that raid. A patrol had found a small Kantisindi camp, and fought the three Kantisindi there until they had retreated into the desert, or so it seemed. In the tents they'd found a few heavily pregnant human women, bellies swollen so large that they could not even be carried, much less walk unaided. It wasn't known what witchcraft the all-female Kantisindi used to make human women pregnant, but it was an all-too-common occurrence. The decision had been made to go back to town for a wagon to carry the swollen women. When the wagon had returned, the Kantisindi attacked again by surprise while the rescued women were being loaded onboard.

The desert savages had never intended to retreat, she'd realized. They'd known that the humans would need wagons to get the enormous freed captives back to town, and were hoping to get some free additional livestock out of the deal rather than overwhelming the humans immediately. Only Sharra had escaped the second attack, slashing one of the horses free from the wagon train and riding away. No sign of Lana, the captives, or any of the other deputies had been found until now. Guilt twinged her about the event, but the desert demanded simple pragmatism. She would have accomplished nothing if she'd stayed, and it could very well have been her own enormous body floating above the desert right now. Or maybe pregnant beyond belief like those captives they'd found, middles swollen like they'd swallowed three dozen watermelons.

But why were the Kantisindi floating there in their 'ship' right at the outskirts of town? It was unprecedented. They were known to use such human 'ships' in the inner desert, but rarely near the human lands. The sun must have glinted off the lens of the spyglass then, as one of the Kantisindi turned her attention from the near-orgy going on in the balloon's hammock, looked directly at Sharra, and made an obscene gesture. Then the woman deliberately turned back to kissing and groping her partner in the blimp's hammock below Lana's overstretched body.

Sharra clucked and snapped the reins, bringing her horse to a trot as she rode towards the edge of town to investigate. As she passed the inn, the sounds of some kind of melee echoed from within. She hurriedly dismounted and tied her horse to the hitching post, then ran up the creaking wooden steps and peered in through the swing door. She gasped.

A Kantisindi woman stood in the center of the tavern, trying to pull a shrieking barmaid down from the rafter she was clinging to. The desert barbarian was more than seven feet tall, towering over everyone else in the room. She was bare from the waist up, and clad only in a loincloth below. The woman's wobbling, bare breasts were the size of butter churns. They were doubtless full of gallon upon gallon of stored water. In the light of the fireplace, her skin gleamed as if it was oiled. She tugged and yanked on the frantic maid's legs, yelling, "You come down! I not bite much! Maybe only a little!"

An underequipped bouncer was clubbing resolutely at the Kantisindi woman's back with a stout cudgel, to no seeming effect. He stood on tiptoe and landed one swing at the base of her skull, with a loud crack. The giant woman spun, keeping hold on the maid's ankle with her left hand while cradling the base of her own head in the right.

"You stop!" the Kantisindi woman snarled. "Not interrupt!" She snatched the club away from the bouncer and smashed it into flinders with one swing against the table. She swung her torso to the side sharply, and one mammoth breast impacted against the man with a gigantic slap, knocking him back and sending him tumbling across the floor. Satisfied, the giant woman returned her full attention to the waitress clinging to the ceiling rafters, standing on tiptoe and grabbing the woman's skirts while laughing with glee.

Sharra inhaled and gathered her courage. Here went nothing.

There were a few sure-fire ways to distract one of the desert women. Striding across the room, she stopped directly behind the Kantisindi woman. She gulped, noticing that the woman's large behind was almost level with her collar in height. Sharra pulled her arm back and spanked the Kantisindi woman's right buttock as hard as she could, the impact of her palm sounding as loud as a tree limb snapping. The force of the blow left her hand tingling.

Dead silence filled the room. From up above, the barmaid looked down at her in horror. The Kantisindi woman let go of the waitress and slowly turned, her gigantic breasts filling most of Sharra's field of view. A slow, disbelieving smile crept across the barbarian's face.

"Nice ass," Sharra said, loudly. She understood that was one of the more direct invitations of challenge in the Kantisindi culture. The Kantisindi woman struck with the speed of a rattlesnake and seized Sharra by the collar of her jerkin and hoisted her effortlessly into the air until the sheriff's face was level with her own. The woman's enormous breasts pressed heavily against the outside of the Sharra's arms. The sheriff's boots were dangling two feet from the floor.

"You look for trouble, tiny?" the desert woman said. Her expression was a grin of extreme amusement and a rather fixed stare of arousal. Not a good combination in the Kantisindi.

"I was about ask you the same question," Sharra said, still dangling in the air. "Minus the 'Tiny,'" She stuck out her chin in defiance.

The Kantisindi woman hauled Sharra in towards her mouth and kissed her passionately, the motion sandwiching the smaller woman inside her cleavage. Sharra flailed inside the boob prison, thrashing. She opened her mouth to yell, and this, in hindsight, was a terrible plan. As soon as the sheriff's mouth opened, the kiss became seriously invasive. The average Kantisindi tongue was about as long as Sharra's forearm, and nearly as thick. This one was currently going spelunking down her throat. In a rage, the sheriff bit down on the offending tongue. The desert barbarian grunted, but rather than cutting off the woman's kiss it became even more frenzied and passionate. The desert women were all completely mad. After far too long, the Kantisindi woman broke off the kiss.

"You fun," the desert tribeswoman said. Sharra shook her head with bleary effort, struggling to clear it.

"What the hell are you doing in my town!" she managed to squeeze out at last, though the words sounded strangled and breathless. She felt fitfully for the floor with questing feet, but was embarrassed to find herself still squarely held off the ground.

"Come to trade," the Kantisindi said. "Come to bar. Buy alcohol. Bar wench say no. So decide to play with her instead. Then you come in."

"Trade!" Sharra laughed, with more than a hint of a sneer. "Did you honestly think you would be welcome here?" With a grunt, the Kantisindi dropped her, and the sheriff tottered unsteadily and nearly fell.

"Not stupid. Know we not welcome here." Suddenly, a large pouch was held in the woman's hand; it jingled appreciatively. Sharra didn't know where the nearly naked woman had been keeping that. She decided on reflection that she didn't want to know. The barbarian hefted the pouch. "Gold welcome here, though. Yes?"

Sharra glanced back and forth between the pouch and the woman's face. There were no regular trade dealings with the Kantisindi. They had no official standing in the empire. But reclaiming that much gold from the hated Kantisindi's raiding would do much for the ailing town.

"Maybe. What do you want?" she said.

"Ale," the Kantisindi said, licking her lips. "Is good. Have five tens and three gold here in pouch. Want buy twenty kegs of ale." As she spoke she caressed the top slope of her left breast lazily. Sharra tried not to look at it. Kantisindi chests always looked monstrously ballooned and impossible. More than a few of the bar patrons were making no particular effort to not look at them, Sharra noticed. Irritating.

"For twenty kegs, you give us the fifty-three gold and let Lana go. She's the one you've got floating out there with your friends," Sharra said immediately, hoping to bargain for the woman's release. A lascivious grin spread across the Kantisindi's face.

"Really let her go? Big balloon like her? She float away," she laughed, seeming to find the notion hysterical. "Want her float away?"

"Give her back to us," the sheriff clarified, growling. The desert woman shook her head, long black tresses brushing across her back. She started down with a smug air of superiority.

"Take much longer to get back to desert without balloon. You want balloon back, you trade seventy-five kegs instead," she said.

"The whole town doesn't have that much alcohol in it," the sheriff protested. "We would have to get shipments. Give us some time and we can work something out." The desert woman shrugged noncommittally in response.

"Then we keep balloon until then. Not waste time. She be bigger before too long," the woman said, leering at Sharra's discomfiture. "For now, you sell twenty kegs for this gold, or we not ever give balloon back."

The sheriff bristled. She would be damned if she let the desert women take advantage of her over the bargaining table. "For that price, we'll sell you five kegs. No more. You think I don't know where that money's come from? By imperial law I shouldn't sell you a drop." The giant woman frowned and lifted a corner of her lip in disdain. She set her hands to her hips and loomed over Sharra, causing the Kantisindi's enormous breasts to wobble.

"Fifteen kegs," she said with a sneer. "Or else maybe we so disappointed someone forget to tie balloon down tonight after trip home. Big shame." The desert barbarian leaned forward at the waist until her smiling face was level with Sharra's own several feet below, her breasts pooling across the table in front of her. Sharra leaned back, worried the crazy giantess was going to try and kiss her again. The table's legs strained under the weight of the woman's mammaries. "Is fair price. Take fair price and maybe in few weeks we let you buy balloon back for more kegs," the Kantisindi woman murmured. Sharra understood the reason for Lana's monstrously ballooned presence at the outskirts of town now...she was both transportation to carry the goods back, and implicit hostage insurance.

Sharra held the woman's gaze for a few long seconds before growling in her throat and turning towards the bar maid. "Get fifteen kegs," Sharra snapped. She snatched the pouch of coins from the giant woman, who released them with a smirk. "Pile up the barrels outside."

"Not need stupid barrels. Just want what in them!" the desert woman said, straightening up to her full height again. Her head almost touched the rafters. Sharra's mouth fell open and she rubbed the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb in frustration.

"I'm aware of that," she groaned. "But how else will you get-" she began, a patronizing tone creeping into her voice.

"Drink!" the woman said, stomping over to the bar. She walked passed Sharra, the smaller woman only coming up to her elbow. With a squeal of abused chair legs, the giant woman sat down at the bar. She flopped her enormous tits onto the bar itself, and they lay there, covering a significant fraction of the surface and wobbling.

"Excuse me?" Sharra said. "You're planning to DRINK fifteen kegs of ale?" The Kantisindi shot her a resentful look.

"Was planning to drink twenty, but human too stingy," she said. Surely she was exaggerating. The Kantisindi reputation for liquid capacity was legendary, but that was absurd.

"Fine! Drink till your boobs pop for all I care! Just get your booze and get out of my town!" Sharra spun and marched towards the door, not having a good day.

"W-where are you going!?" the bar maid wailed. "Don't leave while she's still here! Who knows what she'll do!"

The sheriff stopped and let out a long sigh. Her shoulders tensed and she slowly turned to walk wearily towards the bar. She pulled out a stool and sat down, leaving one empty stool between her and the desert giantess. "Okay," Sharra said, sounding exhausted and put-upon. She slowly paddled a hand through the air in a 'get on with it' gesture. The serving girl headed into the back.

The Kantisindi woman slowly reached out an arm to her right, and then suddenly brought it down in an open-palmed blow to the stool between her and Sharra. The chair burst apart at the joints and tumbled to the floor looking like a swatted wooden spider. The woman reached over further and took hold of one of the legs of Sharra's chair, and suddenly dragged the sheriff over next to her, into the space vacated by the recently destroyed chair. The legs of the stool squealed in a high pitched whine across the floor as she was pulled. Sharra's closed her eyes and rested her head in her palm.

The desert barbarian threw an arm around Sharra's shoulders and pulled inward, dragging Sharra even closer to her and mashing the smaller woman's face against the side of one enormous breast.

"Mmmpgh!" Sharra grunted, squirming and trying to get free against the giant woman's ridiculous strength. Kantisindi skin was naturally oiled and slippery, and Sharra's face and jerkin were a mess from the breast contact. Up above her, her new 'friend' grinned broadly.

The serving maid came to her salvation by rolling a keg out from the back. She quickly set an empty tankard before the desert giantess and began tapping the keg. The Kantisindi picked up the cup skeptically.

"What this?" she asked, inspecting the tin tankard. Still squashed against the woman's breast, Sharra growled.

"It's a cup," she said, voice muffled by boobs almost as big as she was. "Don't you have cups in the desert?" she demanded.

The Kantisindi woman's arm around Sharra's shoulders dropped, and the woman's hand brazenly squeezed Sharra's front, her cupped palm groping and lifting Sharra's right breast beneath the jerkin. Sharra screeched.

"Of course!" the woman said. "Know all about cupping things!" She squeezed the Sheriff again for good measure. Honk honk.

"For gods sake!" Sharra said, pawing at the woman's side and trying to push herself free. She only accomplished setting up an obscene fluid wave bouncing around in the Kantisindi's gigantic chest. "That's a cup! You put things in it to drink more conveniently!" the Sharra growled, stabbing a finger towards the tankard. She sensed that she'd long ago lost control of this particular situation. Mercifully the barmaid filled the tankard with ale and set it before the desert woman again.

The woman picked it up and sniffed at it.

"Good!" she said. She tilted her head back and drank. From her position squashed against the woman's breast, Sharra could just barely see by looking straight upwards. The Kantasindi woman didn't drink and swallow, she simply poured the drink straight down her throat in one smooth motion, no swallowing. Sharra felt the breast she was pressed against wobble slightly bigger. The desert tribe girl made a noise of enjoyment.

"Good!" she repeated, sighing and smacking her lips. "Humans bad at fighting. But you good at making ale and being balloons!"

"Gee, thanks. Very gracious of you," Sharra growled, still pawing listlessly to try and shove herself away from the giant woman's arm around her neck.

"Cup small though," she said with disdain. "Not good." She held out the tankard again, and the barmaid quickly filled it with shaking hands.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the desert barbarian drank her fill, downing tankard after tankard. The Sheriff squirmed in her grasp and tried to escape from being squashed against the woman's breasts- they were blowing up to insane proportions with the alcohol that was filling them. Each cup of ale seemed to produce a moan of physical pleasure from the woman. Every tankard-full swelled her gigantic breasts slightly more. She never seemed to actually get drunk...not the way a human would. Just....giggly. And grabby. More so. Sharra surmised this was because majority of the alcohol was just sitting in the woman's breasts.

By the time she'd finished two kegs, the woman's mammaries had almost doubled in size. By the time she'd finished eight kegs, the bar was distinctly beginning to bow slightly under their weight. After twelve, Sharra was beginning to wonder in horror if those breasts would even fit out the door. When the last drop from the fifteenth keg had vanished down the Kantisindi woman's lips, the sheriff was beginning to fear some kind of detonation. Each breast looked utterly replete, near spherical, with the skin as taut as a drumhead.

"Ah-h-h," the Kantisindi warrior sighed, slapping one breast in satisfaction. That slap was the last straw for the bar, collapsing under the impact of even a little extra force. It gave way, leaving the the woman's breasts wobbling obscenely atop the rubble. She regarded it with mild surprise, and finally released Sharra, who gasped for air. She dabbed her cloak at her jerkin that was completely coated in oil from contact with the woman's skin.

"This why not need stupid wood kegs. Flesh kegs better!" the Kantisindi moaned, rubbing her breasts languidly. "I go now. After tribe done with this ale, we back for more. Be ready then with more kegs if you want balloon back." She stepped back from the bar, her immense boobs reaching quite near the ground now. They met with a gigantic slap after being robbed of the support of the bar. They visibly inflated several more inches as the carbonation within the beer bubbled up, causing flesh-creaking sounds of tightness. "Oof," she grunted. She kneeled down and gathered the immense tan spheres in her arms and stood, lifting with her legs. Those ale-filled breasts weighted hundreds of pounds, wobbling in her grasp like unruly boulders. She squeezed through the door frame with obvious effort and went jiggling down the main road down to the sand, the townsfolk watching her go, with varying amounts of distrust, anger, or interest, depending on personal disposition.

It wasn't until the Kantisindi girls in the balloon were helping to tug the ale-titted woman aboard Lana's gigantic, round body that Sharra realized she hadn't asked the woman what good it did them for a single Kantisindi to come fill themselves to the gills with alcohol when that left the rest of the tribe with thirst unslaked. It was just as well that she hadn't asked. As soon as the other Kantisindi had pulled her aboard, the others pounced on her and began busily sucking at her breasts with obvious relish. It was another detail of Kantisindi biology that Sharra could have happily gone without knowing.

She tilted the view of her telescope up slightly, staring at Lana's puffy face almost lost amid the enormity of her spherical body. Sharra knew she was far too distant from Lana for the spherical woman to see her without a spyglass, but still...she couldn't help but read a hurt accusation in Lana's chubby face. The look wasn't cut off until one of the Kantisindi crawled up Lana's rope-covered side to lock lips with Lana and suck some of the heavier air-ballast out of her gigantic, helium-filled body. Lana slowly began to drift upwards, catching a desert wind as she rose and beginning to blow back out to the desert along with her crew of enormous-breasted Kantisindi. Shara felt guilty, turning towards her office and resolving to put in a requisition for some additional kegs of ale to ransom Lana back whenever the desert women got thirsty again.