Poll Driven Story: “The Rings of Corruption” Episode Two Part One

Alright perverts, the first part of the new poll driven story is ready for you to read! You can find it, and the voting for what happens next, below the cut off. You can also find the story in its current entirety HERE.

Episode Two

The gods who have been infected by The Corruption are gathered together in the ethereal plane that looks down on Alaria.

“Alaria is changing,” one of them says in a deep, hissing voice. “The Corruption spreads, growing our influence on this plane of existence. As more of the divine gods are infected and brought over to our side the mortals forget that we were once called ‘demons’ and shunned by their world. They think of us as the same kind of beings as our divine brothers and sister. They call us ‘gods’ and they worship us, giving us the faith we need to grow in power!”

“Yes,” another voice says. “And in time all the gods will fall to the corruption. But we have known since our birth that we are gods just like them, demon was just a name they gave us to shun us for being different. Like them we too have eternity, and in the end they will all be like us. But today, today we will play a game to pass the time.”

“So that is why we were all called here?” yet another voice asks. “To play a game? Tell us, how is this game played?”

“Some of us have endeavored to pour a fraction of our power into a number of magical rings,” the first voice began, explaining. “Through devious machinations we have convinced the Sisterhood of Righteousness that these rings can bring magical protection and might to those that wear them. They have begun to give these rings to those they send out into the world, thinking the rings will protect these chaste warriors as they try and bring good to Alaria.

“But they have been misled. The rings actually draw perversion and the Corruption to those that wear them. It clouds the wearer’s mind, increasing their libido yet causing them to ignore the fact that they are slowly becoming ever more addicted to sexual highs. Every one of the mighty, haughty heroines who go out into the world wearing one of these rings will soon meet their doom, sinking into the deprivation of sexual degeneration.”

“Although this pleases me to hear,” one of the gathered gods says, “I fail to see how this is a game.”

“Because the rings also make it so any of us touched by the Corruption can sway the mind of these women, as well as the minds of any near them. We need only watch and choose how they shall stumble tits first into all sorts of kinky peril…”

Hearing this the gathered gods are pleased. And then they turn their attention to the heroine currently wearing one of the cursed rings. They begin to watch, and they begin to manipulate her mind and body as well the world around her…

* * *

Sasha Shearman, knight of the Sisterhood, sits tall and proud as she directs her warhorse down the road. She shows no sign that the heavy armor she wears is fatiguing her. Meanwhile the purple cape over her shoulders flutters behind her, adding an air of elegance to the riding figure. Even the way her sword hangs at her side is majestic. She is stately, proud, a striking figure to behold.

The man riding beside her couldn’t be any more different. He rides his horse with a posture that says he is a rascal, perhaps not to be trusted. His clothing is a hodgepodge of patched fabrics that have all seen too much wear and tear and the lute thrown over his back is equally as warn. But his face, that stands out. The man riding the horse is devilishly attractive, with long blond hair and a smile that normally melts the hearts of those that it is pointed at.

“One could be forgiven for mistaking you for a man, Ser Knight” he is saying, pointing that smile at Sasha Shearman as he rides beside her. “One cannot argue that your short hair is kept in the style of a man, and that your figure is, uh, rather boyish.”

Sasha continues to sit with her back straight, her face looking forward. Even when speaking to the roguish bard she doesn’t turn to face him. “And with your flowing blond locks and pretty features one could easily have mistaken you for a woman,” she says, her tone icy.

The bard laughs, cracking the reins of his horse and making it trot ahead of her. With an “about face,” he commands the horse to turn so he is facing Sasha and proceeds to make the horse trot backwards for a time. “Well spoken! Surely your wit is worthy of song. But what really interests me is the emblem securing that cape to your armor. Only members of the Sisterhood of Righteousness wear that symbol, yes?”

“Yes,” she says, trying not to make eye contact with the bard. His impressive horsemanship has annoyed her more than anything. “What of it?”

“Well,” he says, making his horse turn back so it is facing the same directions as hers, and falling in step beside her, “I assume then that you are a member of said Sisterhood. But from the tales I’ve heard told your members normally travel in secret when not in large numbers.”

She frowns at this. “It is true that some of our members move in disguise, but it is not the norm. But my quest requires no such guile or subterfuge, I ride openly to face my foe!”

“And who is this foe that has incurred the wrath of a knight as mighty as you?”

At this Sasha turned to face the bard. “You mock me, kind ser,” she says, her expression displeased.

His brows rise and he holds a hand up in a placating gesture. “Oh no, fair knight! I do not mock. I am a singer of grand tales, and to create new ballads I must witness adventures as they happen. I want only to know of your quest and follow you till its end, so all can hear the glory of your adventures!”

Sasha makes a scoffing sound. “Glory? Adventure? I crave not these things. I wish only to rid the world from the evils and perversions that the Sisterhood has vowed to protect all of Alaria from. But as it seems my only two choices are to humor you or cut you down, and I wish no blood of the innocent on my hands, I must tell you of my quest.”

“Oh yes indeed,” the bard says eagerly. “I assure you, never have you met a more innocent man than I. Why, the other bards sing tales of Warrek Chaffton’s innocence!”

Again she makes a sound of doubt. “Surely you jest, but regardless I shall tell you. I,  Sasha Shearman, knight of the Sisterhood, ride to face the dark mage known only as ‘Elduni’. Long has the sisterhood heard tales of her perversions and use of the dark arts to commit unspeakable acts, but in the past she worked always from the shadows. But now, she has proclaimed herself lord of a stronghold not far from these lands and rules openly.”

“In doing so,” Sasha continues, “she has revealed just how far she has given herself over to the dark magics she uses. Those who have seen her holding court tell of a being that longer looks to be of one of the natural races of Alaria. Instead, her mortal form has been warped by her magics.

“They say her skin is a color that looks both ashen gray yet bluish purple at the same time. Atop her head are two pointed ram’s horns growing from her very flesh, and where most beings have white in their eyes hers glow red with pupils that glow a sickly yellow. Some even say she has the bat like wings of a demon upon her back!”

Warrek nods. “I admit, I’ve too have heard these tales. Her lands are not far from here, as you say, and word has spread wide of this dark sorceress that rules openly. I’ve also heard she worships Naserette and can channel her dark goddess’ powers and become… uh, partially like a man.”

Sasha looks very serious at these words. “Yes, we have heard this too. That more than anything is what has sent me out on my quest. There was a time in Alaria when the gods were divided into to two camps, the true gods and the demons. The demons were those born of The Corruption, and were not to be trusted. But it seems that over the last age the world has forgotten this, and now those touched by The Corruption are worshiped besides the true gods. However, the Sisterhood remembers and we strive to challenge all who serve these dark gods openly!”

“Truly,” Warrek says, awe in his voice, “your tale is one that will need telling. Please, let me follow you in your journeys so all the world can know of your deeds.”

For a long time Sasha is silent. Finally, without turning to the bard, she gives her answer. “Fine, as long as you stay out of the way.”

* * *

Truth be told, Warrek would normally have passed by such a noble looking knight. When he had seen Sasha riding down the road ahead of him he had felt little curiosity about where such a one was headed. Oh, sure, he looked for inspiration for his songs, but he preferred larger parties that could more easily protect him on their journey. Besides, this stranger was riding in the opposite direction as him.

But as they had passed… He had to turn around and ride up beside the knight so he could take a closer look. The imposing figure truly was a woman, just as his sixth sense told him!

His sixth sense was a blessing from his goddess, Ynara of the fat tits. He worshiped her every chance he got and sung songs of her glory everywhere he went. This pleased her and she had passed on this blessing to him. It gave him a sixth sense which allowed him to feel the true size of nearby woman’s breasts.

So imagine his surprise when he had passed by the proud knight only to feel that SHE had some of the largest breasts he had ever encountered! Doubling back he first confirmed she was a woman by taking a closer look at her face. But as they had spoken he had slyly appraised her body. He knew armor could hide a woman’s bust, but only so much. If his feeling was true, and it had never failed him before, her breasts had to be gigantic. Surely she was using some kind of magic to hide their true size under that armor of hers, because to his eye she looked as flat as a young boy.

He needed to know the truth of her breasts, see them with his own eyes and hopefully feel them with his hands and other parts. Why did she hide them so? Was she ashamed? Was it a matter of practicality, hidden so as not to get in the way of battle? He had to know… And to do that he’d need to earn the knight’s trust, need to follow her and spend time with her. And if he got a tale that made a grand song out of it? Well, all the better.

* * *

The two had ridden all day. Warrek had tried to engage the knight in conversation during the first few hours of travel, but once she had explained her mission she had said little more. She was stoic and silent. He abhorred silence, she he had filled the following hours by singing songs as they rode the open road.

He had tried to tailor them to what he thought Sasha would like, tales of brave knights defeating evil foes. He even knew a few about the Sisterhood and sung these for her. At first he thought she cared not for his singing, but eventually noticed a slight smile spread across her face. It was clear this woman kept her emotions hidden when possible, and that although she may never say so, she enjoyed his songs.

Of course, she’d never heard one of his TRUE bardic songs. Any fool could sing a song or play a lute. Some could even do it with great skill. But only a bard knew how to infuse their music with magic, magic that could inspire or ensorcell others. And once the right moment presented itself he would use a true bardic song on the chaste and haughty knight, and then he would finally get a chance to see the breasts that made his sixth sense, amongst other things, throb and tingle…

* * *

“Looks like you’re not totally useless, as it appears you can make a mighty fine campfire,” Sasha says as she sits down and leans up against the large oak tree they have made camp under.

“You wound me, Ser Knight! Was my singing the entire day not use enough? No, protest not, for I saw the way my songs made you smile!” As he speaks as he sits cross legged near the fire across from Sasha.

Both figures have settled down with their travel packs beside them and are now busy eating their night’s rations.

Warrek finishes the food in his mouth then picks the conversation back up where it had been left off. “Truth be told I’ve learned how to make myself useful to people such as you. I normally attach myself to large groups of adventurers and they are far more likely to tolerate my presence if I do more than just sing. I’ve little skill with a sword or bow, and know my songs can only take me so far. So I’ve learned how to cook and sew and yes, tend a fire.”

Sasha nods her head at this. “I seem to have misjudged you, kind Warrek. You might look a scoundrel, but you give freely and strive to pull your own weight. One could not ask for more from a traveling companion.”

He smiles at this. “So, you consider me your companion?” The knight looks away, her cheeks suddenly flush which causes Warrek to burst into laughter. “Why, did I make you blush? I was merely jesting; I know the women of the Sisterhood have sworn a vow of chastity.”

She turns back to face him, her cheeks still crimson. “That isn’t exactly true. We recognize sex for procreation as natural and needed, but try to avoid it for pleasure. We take no vows of celibacy, but most of us choose to live as if we had. Pleasures of the flesh are but a distraction, and an easy way for The Corruption to take hold in a person.”

“I see. Does that mean you are an… unspoiled maiden?” he asks her.

The red in her cheeks had just begun to fade, but now returns brighter than ever. She looks down at the ground as she speaks. “No… I did not grow up in the Sisterhood as many of its members do. Before becoming a knight I lived a different life, one I did not care much for. During that time I laid with men on a few occasions…” Her voice goes quiet and low as she continues. “But I never much cared for it. I have, uh, certain physical attributes that I care not for that men seem to fixate on.”

He suspects that she is talking about her breasts. Clearly she is ashamed of their large size and the attention they bring. As he sits across from her and watches the dark memories play across her face he begins to have doubts. Maybe he should abandon his plans and leave this good woman in peace.

While he thinks this the light of the campfire reflects off a ring she wears on her hand, a ring Warrek had not noticed till that moment. His attention is drawn to it, admiring the red stone that glints in the flickering light of the flames. For a moment the ring seems to glow with red energy, but with a blink the energy is gone. Clearly, he thinks, it was just a trick of the firelight.

He looks up from the ring, having forgotten his momentary thoughts of abandoning his plans. Seeing that Sasha has finished her diner and begun to get comfortable against the tree he decides now is the time to strike. He reaches for his lute and asks if he can play her a lullaby as she prepares for sleep.

“Sure,” she says. “This is still land that can be trusted and we need not keep watch this night.”

He begins his song, singing a relaxing lullaby. But as he strums his lute and sings the words he taps into something deep inside of him, bringing up his bardic magic from deep in his core and using it to infuse his music with a powerful spell. This is one he’s perfected through repeated use and he has no doubt it will begin to affect Sasha before long.

As he suspects, her eyes begin to grow heavy. They begin to flutter close, her head tilting to one side as a deep sleep begins to overtake her. With one last deep breath her eyes shut and her head lolls to the side.

Warrek finishes his song then sets his lute down, rising to his feet and stretching. Only then does he walk over to the slumbering knight. “Hey, Sasha?” he asks quietly. “Sasha!” he repeats, but much louder. The woman shows no sign of stirring in her sleep.

“Perfect,” Warrek says as he kneels down before her. The spell has worked like a charm, because it IS a charm! A charm that’s put her into a deep sleep and will last either till morning or he chooses to end it. “Now let’s get a look at what you’ve got hidden under this armor…”

He starts to reach for her armor, but stops. He’s close to her face, mere inches away. He stares at her, really taking in her appearance for the first time in detail.

Her skin is cream colored, the same as his. She has petite facial features with a pointed chin that would look elegant on a lady of court. But with her short, masculine hairstyle her pretty features made her look more like a young boy than the woman she truly is. Adding to the false sense of male gender is the fact that she is obviously very muscular, with a thick neck that doesn’t quite fit her small, pretty face.

His eyes were drawn to her lips. Her mouth is small and narrow, yet her lips on close inspection are full, plump even. They scream out to be kissed, so he leans forward and presses his lips against hers. As he kisses her he runs his fingers through her short hair, pulling it back behind her ears.

He pulls away, feeling a sudden swell in his pants. Yes, this knight might look to be a man on first glance, but once close to her there is no denying her womanly charm. He smiles, looking at her face and admiring the beauty hidden in plain sight.

But then he looks again. Her ears, they are slightly pointed at the top. He had assumed that she was Human, just as him, but clearly she has some kind of Elven blood in her. Not much, not with how slight to points on her ears are. Then it’s as if he sees her hair for the first time: so blond it’s almost silver in color. Silver hair with huge breasts, could she be part Silver Elf?

He decides to ask her about her lineage if he ever gets the chance. But now, now he can begin undoing her armor. He has to fumble for a bit with the leather straps that hold it in place, struggling to reach them as her back is up against the tree. And it doesn’t help that the dark of the night is pressing in on them now, the fire behind him doing less and less to fight against it.

Finally he is able to peel the top layer of plate metal off of her, but this only reveals a second layer of chain mail. He groans in annoyance, realizing he’ll have to take ALL of the armor above her waist off to get the shirt of mail off. “Well, there’s nothing to be done about it,” he says to himself, beginning to work on the metal armor on her arms and shoulders.

A few minutes later all of her armor, including the shirt of mail, is off. Under that is a shirt of thick wool, damp with perspiration. He has heard that once the garment is damp enough the moisture keeps a knight cool, working to prevent a warrior from overheating.

He goes about taking this shirt off as well, noticing the strong smell of body odor that clings about it. As he pulls the shirt up and off the sleeping woman’s body his heart races, unsure what he will find underneath. It had been clear that her breasts were magically contained somehow, as even after removing her armor she still looks totally flat.

With the padded wool shirt removed he sees that underneath the upper part of her torso is wrapped in white bandages. He stares at them, noticing that they glow faintly blue. “Huh,” he says, looking down, “magic bindings. They must be… shrinking her breasts? Strange.”

For a moment he continues to stare, unsure what to do next. His first impulse is to cut them open, but that won’t do. If he did that he’d not be able to re-dress her when he is done and would have to sneak off into the night, hoping she wouldn’t ride him down in the morning. No, he needs to keep this exploration of her chest a secret, at least for now.

Not sure what else to do he begins feeling her up. It is strange; her chest feels flat just like a man’s. Yet his sixth sense tells him this is a falsehood, that hidden under the charmed bindings are breasts truly impressive in their size.

He lifts her up away from the tree and feels her back. There he finds the end of the bandage like bindings, tucked into themselves. He pulls it out and begins unwinding the bindings. Slowly he unravels her torso, unwrapping and slowly revealing her body.

As he does this something magical happens: it is as if her breasts are growing before his eyes. The increase in bust size is slight at first, just a small bump on her chest. But the more fabric he unwinds from her body the more the mound of breast flesh grows underneath. Soon the mass of unseen flesh is a handful. Then more than a handful. Then a mass of flesh barely held in place by the tight cloth bindings.

And then, finally, the bindings cannot contain the knight’s massive breasts. The flesh underneath begins to bulge, pressing out through the last layer of cloth wrapped around them. Fat, soft tit-flesh begins to press out between the remaining strips of cloth, and then the bindings give falling free as her massive breasts exploded out into the open air as if magicked into existence.

Warrek gasps as crawls away backwards from her, overcome by the sight before him. He’s never seen breasts so large on a woman not blessed by Ynara. They are nearly beyond description. Not just large, but HUGE. Full and wide and soft yet heavy and firm and full, like no natural human breasts he’s ever seen. Each breast is far larger than the woman’s head. If she was standing topless he imagined each would hang down nearly to her belly button. And they were so full and wide! Why, if he was seeing her topless form behind he imagined he’d still be able to see at least a third of their heft.

And her nipples… truly blessed! Her areolas are large, their dark pink flesh pebbling in the cool night air. The nubs in the center are large, like two small plump fruits. They are responding to the night air as well, swelling and growing hard and full.

Staring at her naked, exposed breasts makes him feel as though he is having a religious experience. And being that he worships the goddess of fat tits, perhaps he is having one.

His hands are shaking as he gets back up to his feet, busily fumbling with his pants as he does. In almost no time he has all of his clothing below the waist removed. Warrek holds his cock in hand. It is throbbing with hardness, almost painfully so.

He is overwhelmed by Sasha’s breasts, and needs them. NOW.

Propped up against the tree the way she is, it would be easy to fuck her tits. He steps up to her, lowering down and placing his cock reverently between her monstrous breasts. He then leans into her slightly for balance as he grabs hold of her breasts, spitting on his cock before lifting them up from underneath and pressing them in around his cock.

He shudders with pleasure, both from the feel of his hands sinking into all of her ample tit-flesh and from the feel of said flesh wrapping around his cock. His manhood is totally enveloped, gone from sight.

Then, slowly at first, he begins to move his hips sliding his cock up into her tits. He shudders again, overwhelmed by her tit’s sheer size. He knows he wouldn’t be able to last long, not this first time fuck such magnificent breasts. So he begins reciting the prayer to his goddess.

“Praise be to Ynara,” he says, his voice shaking, “goddess of the fat tits and bringer of all mammary pleasure.” As he continues to speak his voice grows more steady. “May she bless this coupling, may it please her and our faith manifest in our sexual pleasure flow into her divine being. May this please her, and allow our worship to continue…”

His voice trails off as he finishes the prayer and starts to pound her tits hard and fast, waiting for the feel of Ynara’s blessing. A moment later it falls upon them, warming her soft full breasts and his cock. He feels her holy light enter into him, but senses that the majority of the energy is flowing into Sasha.

With his goddesses energy flowing through him and the breasts he is using to worship her Warrek is quickly pushed over the edge. He groans in pleasure, feeling his cock convulse and begin to shoot his seed up into the woman’s tits. He knows his load will be large, larger than normally possible for a Human. Cum pleases his goddess nearly as much as large breasts and she blesses those worshiping her this way with large loads.

At times Ynara also blesses men with renewed vigor, keeping their manhood hard and ensuring they can continue fucking. As he finishes cumming he hopes for this, but feels the blood begin to flow out of his cock and knows today is not one of those days. A moment later he feels the goddess’ holy light leave him, confirming that the moment of faith driven sexual pleasure is over.

He falls back, landing on his ass and breathing deeply. His cock hangs naked, flaccid and cum covered in the grass below him but he cares not. He is only able to stare ahead, looking at Sasha’s magnificent breasts, made ever more glorious by the large load of cum that oozes down the mountains flesh peeks between them.

As he stares he realizes that her breasts still glow with the light of the goddess. “Ynara be praised,” he whisperers, wondering what manner of blessing is being bestowed upon the knight. Surely not the sixth sense he wields. He suspects he knows: most women blessed by Ynara find their breasts almost unimaginably more sensitive, so much so that they are then able to climax just by having a man play with them and especially fuck them as he just did.

“Perhaps in time I will be able to discover the truth of it,” he says, realizing he needs clean up. After procuring a cloth form his travel bag he wipes the cum from his cock and her tits. He takes one last longing look at her massive mammaries then begins rebinding them.

The enchanted binding quickly starts working its magic. As he wraps it around her torso the cloth tightens on its own, firs compressing her breasts then magically shrinking them. Before long the binding is wrapped all around her and she’s once more flat as board.

After that Warrek goes about putting the rest of her clothing and armor back on, doing his best to put everything back the way it was. When he is done he stands up and takes a step back, looking at the slumbering knight.

((You can choose three options in the poll below))

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