Clara and The Grand Air War Pt. 02

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Agent 23 helped Clara sit up in bed. “How do you feel?”


“Oh.” The agent wrapped the bed sheet around Clara’s lower torso. Trying to cover her immense breasts was futile.

“Thank you… Though, it LOOKS like they ought to weigh a horse-and-cart each. They feel… like nothing.”

“Do you feel this?” Agent 23 pinched a nipple, Clara shrieked in pain and surprise. “Good. Functional.”

Clara had jumped a bit (as much as a limbless woman might), and her weight shifted. Her center of gravity pushed her rear forward and she felt herself sliding down the wall next to the bed. The motion was… folding her torso in half. “Wha-What’s happening?” It didn’t hurt, it just felt incredibly odd.

“Let me tell you a little about Devulcanization.” Agent 23 made no effort to correct the limbless girl’s posture. “Some women are predisposed to react to a certain chemical compound that was developed nearly a generation ago. Since then we’ve honed its properties and delivery method. It induces what we call Devulcanization. We make tyres out of rubber, a newer substance and useful. It’s pliable AND durable, but not enough for everyday use. We vulcanize the rubber, hardening it, making it even more durable. In the case of our Lift Crews, we have done the opposite.”

“I’m-cough-I’m made of RUBBER now?”

Agent 23 looked at the ceiling in thought. “Yes and no. I’m not a scientist however, just a field agent. Let’s go to breakfast.”

Clara shifted her torso and tipped herself onto her side. Her lower abdomen snapped back into its original form and her rear slapped against the cold wall. “Gah! How am I meant to get around? Wait… did I float here last night? I did!”

“Ah, yes you did. We’ll discuss that when we train later today.” Agent 23 brought in a small, navy blue garment. It unbuttoned and she slid it over Clara’s posterior and up and over her back and shoulders. Between her breasts was a fabric strip that ended in a rigid neck cuff of red and blue. The fit was reminiscent of the agents’ uniforms, and she was covered completely from her chin down, except for her massive breasts.

She was placed in a wheelchair that was left in the hall. Her nearly weightless breasts lazily bounced against each other as the wheelchair moved. “This is humiliating…” Clara sighed. The wheelchair stopped.

Agent 23 leaned over her. “You will never utter that again, do you hear me? Lives are at stake. The survival of our country is at stake! You don’t get to choose what is humiliating or not. Unless the Grand Duchess HERSELF appears in this hallway and says it’s so, then assume the choice is not yours. Do you hear me, Cadet?”

Clara was silent, trying not to betray the tears forming in her eyes.


“Yes… Yes, ma’am.” She whimpered softly as Agent 23 began to push her wheelchair again.

“My dear, do try to remember this. I am the kindest person you will meet here in some position of authority. There are savage patriots in these walls, and the next dressing down you receive will not be quite so gentle.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

Breakfast was the same. Agent 23 spoon fed Clara and helped her sip tea, which was thankfully still delicious. Her breasts were shoved under the table, but the exposed upper portions bugled out against the wood. They seemed to have a shiny reflection, as though they were formed of blown glass.

Between bites, Cara asked, “Is it better to have a higher or lower number?”

“Hmm? Oh, 23? No, I was assigned this number when the former Agent 23 fell. I’m sure there was some significance originally. There’s a hundred of us, and the numbers are… Repurposed. The rest is classified.”

“Oh. Thank you for telling me.” Clara took the bite offered to her. A petite, waif of a girl entered, accompanied by an agent. She was in a similar uniform but she had her limbs still, presumably. Both of her arms were in slings. Clara stared a moment longer and realized it was the blonde girl from the day before, the one who had smiled and given her a thumbs up. She whispered, “Is she alright?”

“That reminds me,” said Agent 23. “Good morning! Agent 15, how goes it?” She rose and approached them.

Agent 15 was an older fellow with a gray beard, and a thin countenance. “Ah, Agent 23! A pleasure to see you once more. Back to training, eh?” They shook hands.

“That’s so. I have here Lift Cadet Clara Rowan, Ballooner.”

“Of course, of course. May I present Lift Cadet Samantha Church, Rigger.”

“Ma’am.” Samantha nodded her head in respect. “I would salute, but…”

“I would have too, Agent 15,” interjected Clara. They turned to look and she watched as Samantha threw her head back in silent laughter.

Agent 23 tried not to smile, secretly she was pleased that there was an instant rapport. “I wanted to speak to you about pairing our Cadets. Objections?”

“Well,” said the older agent. “I don’t see why not. They seem to get on well, don’t they? Tickety-boo! I say yes.” They ankara escort shook hands once more.

“Cadets, Lift Crews work in a series of pairs. Partnerships. I’d like to introduce you both to your new partner.” Agent 23 gestured to both of the girls.

“Can we sit together?” Samantha was already trying to stand from her chair.

“Let’s,” said Agent 15. They converged at Clara’s table and sat. The two agents immediately began catching up on their versions of local events, and the two girls began to chat.

“I’m Clara, from Chimneytops. Are you from the Cittie, too?”

“Sammy. I’m from Hartvord, over the bogs.”

“What… happened to your arms?”

Sammy looked down at her arm slings. “All stretched out. They gave me the vapors, shot me up with some awful thing and rolled me arms out on a wheel or the like. S’hard to remember, honestly. You… changed too I take it?”

Clara blushed at her huge, exposed bust. “Yes… They did the same, and then chopped my limbs off. I thought it was a dream until I woke up. Are you alright though?” She looked at Sammy’s arms.

“15 tells me I’ll learn to pull’em back in somehow, but right now s’like coils of rope under here.” Sammy leaned over a little. “We can get each other’s backs in here, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Clara finally smiled.

Out at the training grounds, Clara could see all manner of strange device left in the field.

“ATTENTION!” Agent 55’s voice boomed across the field. “Dame Barstowe!”

Barstowe strode purposefully toward them. She was dressed in a riding suit. Jackboots, white pantaloons and form-fitting tailcoat. She carried what seemed like some sort of wooden belaying pin, which she rapped against her palm. The agents saluted as she stopped in front of them.

“Cadets! This is the beginning of your service. You are oath and honor bound to complete your training and to serve in the Air Ministry with valor, courage and dedication. We are agreed in this, yes?”

The girls nodded.


“Yes Madame!” they shouted in unison.

“Let us begin. The test of stones!” Agent 23 picked Clara out of her wheelchair and brought her to a pile of stones which were punched though by iron and chained together. The chains were rigged to a leather harness. Agent 15 assisted in strapping her in.

Agent 23 stepped in front and whispered. “Cadet, I would have warned you sooner, but it only scares the girls.” She suddenly felt a draft of cold air along her privates.


“Silence,” whispered Agent 23.

Clara waited nervously as Barstowe approached them. She looked the limbless girl up and down as Clara tried her best to look dignified, in spite of her exposed places. “Test of fingers.”

Agent 15 spoke up, “Madame, Cadet Church is still-“

“TEST of FINGERS.” Barstowe fished a small device from her coat pocket and twisted it to the end of the belaying pin. “This, Cadet, is called a gyroscope. Do you know what that is?”

“No, madame, I’m just from-“

“It’s a device that spins perpetually. It’s weighted, and it has purpose here.” From another pocket she produced a small vial of clear liquid and popped the cork. It was drizzled over the end of the pin until the end of it was glistening. “IS OUR RIGGER READY?”

“Almost, Madame!” Agent 15 had dragged Sammy over a nearby tree and began undoing her slings. Ropy flesh cascaded from them, spooling in piles at her feet. Clara could make out fingers somewhere in the mess of flesh. Agent 15 dug for Sammy’s hands and brought them to Clara’s harness. He looped the ropy arms around a couple of times and looked to Sammy. “Fold your fingers Cadet!” Her fingers found each other and interwined. “Atta girl.” He ran back over and lashed her to the tree with some straps.

Barstowe smiled thinly. “Our first test is double. Cadet Rowan, you will lift the stones. Cadet Church you will pull her down.”

To Clara’s horror, the belaying pin was brought down low to her pelvis and slowly inserted. She cried out in pain. Slowly, inch by inch it was inserted. The device was turned on and it began to wiggle the wooden pin inside her. Clara gasped, nothing had ever been inside her before like this. It was painful and confusing. “Close it up,” ordered Barstowe.

Agent 23 whispered, “This is something that many women actually enjoy. It’s your first time and it’s confusing, and it probably hurts too. Give it a moment. Let it come to you.” She closed the flap of clothing over the device. It was now pushed in all the way and wriggling against her insides.

The modesty she had been taught to cherish, the prudence, the chasteness was now at war with the sensations inside her. They were… frightening and amazing. Agent 23 hugged her from behind as her body began to writhe.

“The heat produced by your body stimulates the gasses implanted in your breasts. This chemical reaction will make you fly. Just let it happen.”

Clara was barely registering the words, but they helped her understand why ankara genç escort this was happening to her. In front of all of these people. Completely helpless. Limbless. She gasped, it was starting to feel good. She watched her breasts begin to lift past her face. As they rose, they grew.

Longer, larger, tall and oblong. Both were now each larger than what was left of her body. It continued. She cried out in pleasure and felt another surge in her growth. Her back arched, and she could feel her torso absorb some of pressure of her harness.

The expansion continued until all she could really see in front of her was her own flesh. It was otherworldly, and the sight of her breasts at this size, in full view of all of these people, with the belaying pin dancing away inside her… She orgasmed. Her breasts surged and soon she realized that her eye line was changing. Agent 23 was no longer holding her. She was FLYING.

“Pull!” The Dame was now yelling at Sammy. Her limbs had been stretched to their limits and she could see the slack being pulled out as the limbless woman floated upward with hundreds of pounds of stone beneath her.

“I can’t! I don’t know how!”

“Don’t know how WHAT?”

“I don’t know how, Madame!”

“Cadet Church, the cells in that gyroscope can last for an hour. If you don’t figure it out, how long will your arms be? Will you EVER recover from that?” Barstowe stormed away. “You are the Rigger!”

Agent 15 ran up. “Listen here, Church. This is your duty. Her life is in your hands.”

Sammy closed her eyes and felt her arms finally pull taut. She remembered the time her older brother almost fell in the well, and how she held his wrists in that instant of pure adrenaline. In that moment her thin body pulled him out. She had done the impossible. Jacko had called her ‘Big Sis’ ever since that moment.

Sammy screamed in fury. Her arms, stretched meters long finally became tensile. She roared. Clara and her rig slowly began to move back towards the earth at a 45 degree angle. Clara was still writhing in orgasmic pleasure, and Sammy wanted her out of that awful thing and she yelled again in defiance. She could feel her arms retracting now, it was as if their natural state was more powerful than any force she could normally exert. She hadn’t imagined this sort of strength.

When Clara was low enough, Agent 23 unlatched the fabric from her pelvis and removed the belaying pin, then buttoned her back up. Clara was panting, her body jerking from orgasmic aftershocks. Her breasts slowly shrank in size until they were small enough to allow Agent 23 to unstrap her and hold her down with a belt. She was still aloft, still trying to make sense of what happened.

“Good. Tomorrow is the next test. Dismissed.” Barstowe stormed away.

Clara came to her senses and realized she was still floating. Agent 23 was walking beside her, holding the long strap of a belt, which was cinched around her waist. “What… What just happened?”

“What happened,” replied Agent 23, “was one of the greatest showings for the first test. Ever.”

Clara was surprised. By everything. She was floating down the hall by her breasts, in a strange uniform, dragged along by a military officer. She glanced behind her at Sammy, who walked alongside Agent 15, struggling to retract one of her arms as they walked. Eventually it pulled back into her sleeve and she hugged herself, as if to hold her arms together.

“Did Sammy do alright?”

Agent 23 looked over her shoulder. “She brought you down. So yes. The Eridanus has had to replace its crew, they were reassigned. Unfortunately as a Gannet-class airship, she makes way for an Albatross-class like The Skyhound.”

“What happened on the Skyhound?”

“Lost…” Agent 23 looked away. “Taken? We don’t know.” She coughed. “Sorry. Classified.”

“It… It sounds like you knew them.” Clara had genuinely come to like Agent 23. She was a stoic woman of quiet strength. “I’m very sorry.”

“My feelings are classified, too.”

Clara dropped the conversation there, and let herself be tugged through the air silently. Supper was again, bleak. She had finally started to descend and by the time they supped, she was able to sit in a chair again. Between bites of beans and rice, Clara asked, “I hope you haven’t been annoyed by my questions. I guess I just need to know what sort of a mess I’ve gotten myself into.”

Agent 23 served her another spoonful. “You’ve earned some room there, I think. Honestly, Cadet. You impressed me today. Church did well too, first rate. I’m glad you’re partners.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I like Sammy. She’s nice.”

“Hmph. Nice isn’t what’s needed in war. It’s grit. Ferocity, when it’s required. I don’t know if you heard her, but there’s a beast inside her that I don’t think even SHE was prepared for. The Eridanus is fortunate to have you two.”

“Did you serve on it?”

Agent 23 leaned back in her chair. “Yes. Proudly. antalya escort Same captain as you’ll have. Severe.”

Clara shifted uncomfortably. “Is he… frightening?”

The agent served her another spoon full. “Haha! Cadet, he’s Captain John Severe. He can be described that way sometimes. Usually by The League. But with your abilities, I’m sure he’ll warm to you quickly. I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow.”

Between bites Clara asked, “What happens… tomorrow?”

“You will lift The Eridanus herself.”

In the morning Clara was dressed in her awful uniform. Her hair was braided by Agent 23. “We must put up a good impression, yeah?” She was shown a mirror. She did look pretty with her hair like that, the long braid was pulled over her shoulder, which really just drew her gaze to her exposed upper breasts in the reflection. She sighed.

She was wheeled to a wagon and was happy to see Sammy sitting there. Clara was placed in a special seat which supported her hips and back. When she was settled and strapped in, Sammy sidled up to her. “Yesterday was wild, wasn’t it? I didn’t think I’d be able to getcha down!”

“Well you did,” smiled Clara. “It sounds like everyone was pleased.”

“Cor, I hope so.” Sammy rubbed her arms. Every now and then Clara would notice one of Sammy’s hands slowly start to descend to the floorboard. She would make a little hiss, and Sammy would look down at her rubbery arm and swear. She concentrated and the hand retracted back to the hem of her sleeve. “Thanks, Clara.”

They arrived at another field. There before them was a majestic ship, sitting in a large wooden scaffold. It looked to be three stories tall. The hull was painted light blue with golden trimming. The sight was imposing and glorious.

The Eridanus had two masts, fore and aft. The two were connected at the top with what appeared to be a lattice of ropes. The fore mast had a series of furled sails along each spar. Masts also jutted from the sides of the vessel, at upward angles.

Two other wagons arrived with similarly paired women. Clara suddenly realized she wouldn’t be alone in this test. All three wagons had a limbless woman with ludicrous breasts and another holding their arms together. She could also make out the form of Dame Barstowe, pacing along the length of the vessel.

Agent 23 picked her up and carried her to the ship. Clara whispered, “I’m not too heavy am I?”

“Not at all,” the agent whispered back with a chuckle. Clara looked behind her to Sammy, and they smiled to each other.

“Agents! Cadets! Pleased to have you finally join us!” Barstowe waved her arms majestically. “I give you the grand airship – The Eridanus! Load the Lift Crew!” Harnesses were placed around the three limbless women. Their breasts bounced uncontrollably as they were hoisted aboard. Greeting them were bulky men, in various states of uniform. Clara was horrified. They grabbed her and placed her in a similar halter to yesterday’s exercise.

Dame Barstowe climbed aboard, followed by Agent 23, 15 and a handful of similarly dressed people. Behind them, Sammy and the other Riggers were helped up. Clara watched as Sammy was harnessed into a special seat in front of her. Two sets of shackles were placed around her wrists. They looked at each other. Clara nodded. Sammy winked back. A rope was attached to each one. One of them was pulled taught, and her arms were lifted up.

Sammy winced, but her hands were pulled up and up, as her arms extended with the cuffs. Eventually her arms stretched all the way to the net spanning the two masts. The second rope was pulled, and Sammy’s arms continued to stretch back down to the deck behind Clara. All she could do was watch her new friend grit her teeth. She could see two more sets of arms to her left and right, extended the same way.

Sammy shouted, “I got a grip!” Her arms were left that way extended all the way up to the height of the main mast and back down to the deck, where she clutched an iron ring. Her fingers wrapped around and around it.

Clara looked to her left at the curly blond limbless girl in the same sort of harness as her. “Hey… I’m Clara. Clara Rowan.”

“Winnifred… DeVries.”

To her right was a redhead. She seemed to be struggling. “Hi. Lift Girl! I’m Clara Rowan.”

The girl looked at her with a panicked expression.

“It’s OK. We’re a team right?”

“Th-Thank you… I’m Holly. Stokes.”

“I’m glad to meet you. We can do this.” Clara smiled to Holly.

A stout man yelled out, “Lift Crew assembled, Madame!”

“Thank you, Ellis. Proceed, agents.”

“I’m sorry Cadet. This is a repeat, I’m afraid.” After unbuttoning the crotch of Clara’s uniform, Agent 23 attached the gyroscope to her wooden pin, applied the lubricant and activated the device. She slowly inserted it inside Clara.

“Oh… Ohhhh…” Clara had forgotten how it felt. Just like last time, her breasts began to expand and lift. The gyrations inside her began to put her back into that same state. She watched the erotic scene of her breasts becoming larger and larger in front of the ship’s crew. In short, this permission to be exposed and stimulated was turning her on.

The Dame screamed at them. “Come ON Cadets! You’ll be damn lucky to lift a HORSE like this!”

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