Alright perverts, the first part of episode three 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 all the other ring stories in there entirety HERE.
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…
* * *
“I don’t know, this one seems hopeless,” Ahloral says with a cruel laugh. She throws her long, jet black hair back then leans against the back of her master’s throne. “This is the third time in the last day she’s been unable to get you to cum using her mouth.” As she speaks she stares down at the brunette woman kneeling before her master and watches her fellated him with little skill.
“Not totally hopeless,” the tall blond woman standing beside Ahloral and leaning on the other side of the thrones says. “She might be shit with her mouth, but we all know her huge saggy titties can get the job done.”
Ahloral looks at her with mock outrage on her face. “Now come, Lizzoznaih, poor Reh’s tits are not saggy! Oh, for sure, they are not as firm as mine or yours or even pathetic Thezros over in the corner, but at least they are the largets!”
As she speaks of the fourth woman in the room, Thezros, she points to a far corner of Bal Nemon’s throne room. There sits a woman with silver hair who is dressed as a paladin in gleaming armor, except the armor and clothing from her torso is missing leaving her tits and pussy exposed. She sits on the ground with her pressed into the corner, her legs spread wide while she masturbates furiously. As she does this she pants with a vacant expression on her tired face.
Bal Nemon, the massively muscled man that sits in the throne shifts slightly, looking up at the two bickering women behind him. “Now my pets, you need not be so cruel to your newest sisters. If I recall you were both shit at fucking and serving me as well. In fact, you were both defiant for a time, just like Thezros over there. You both spent much time in the corner of shame, jilling off while your pretty little minds melted from too many orgasms.”
“Too many orgasms?” Ahloral asks, her voice implying the idea is unthinkable. She looks at Lizzoznaih to see what she thinks of the idea.
“Impossible,” she says quickly. “Surely we were never as pathetic as these two! Surely we weren’t stupid-titted cows who didn’t know how to serve our perfect master with every inch of our bodies?”
The man sitting on the throne shifts again, pulling his cock out of the brunette’s mouth and pushing her away from him. This reveals her breasts which are almost inhumanly large and sag heavily down into her lap. “Okay, Reh,” he says as he reaches down and grabs her tits, using them to lift her and then placing their fleshy soft mass in his bare lap, “time to use your tits. We’ll practice more with your mouth later. But I warn you, if you can’t make me cum in a timely manner there will be consequences.”
The woman’s face lights up with fear. Recently she had been a successful, famous adventurer. All of the women in the throne room had been. In fact, even Bal Nemon was an adventurer at one point. But that was all in the past, she is now little more than a piece of fuck meat who lives only to serve Bal.
Reh grabbed her massive, soft tits and presses them around Bal’s cock. A moment later she is bouncing them up and down, giving him a vigorous tittyfuck.
“Oooooh, look, the stupid cow is afraid to be punished,” Lizzoznaih says, laughing at the woman kneeling before her master.
“Oh, yes, sister,” Ahloral says, “I perhaps think she fears our master will make her tap into her barbarian’s rage again. That nice little ring she wears is so marvelous… we’ve all seen how these stupid slut barbarians’ tits grow as the rage makes them stronger, but that ring makes these changes to their breasts permanent even after the rage ends!”
“Oh yes,” Lizzoznaih adds, “and every time she’s misbehaved Master has made her grow her fat floppy tits a little larger, a little heavier. I think by now she fears she’ll not be able to stand should they growing much larger. Look how well she uses them on his cock, so eager to please lest she be punished again.”
Across the room Thezros begins to moan loudly, her body tightening up and convulsing for a moment. “Eight,” she practically screams, her voice quavering as she cums.
All eyes turn to her, all except Reh’s whose back is to the former paladin.
“Very good,” Bal says to Thezros.
“Oh thank you, Master,” Thezros says. Her voice is weak and she can barely talk. “Does this mean I can stop now? That I can rest and maybe sleep?”
“No,” Bal says, his face growing dark with disappointment. “You are being punished. You have to sit in that corner and jill off till you’ve cum, what was it?” He looks up at Ahloral.
“I think her misbehavior had her up to seventeen,” the dark haired woman says disinterestedly.
“Oh, no, sister, she was up to nineteen!” Lizzoznaih, the blond, says happily.
“And now,” Bal says firmly, “because you have tried once more to shirk your punishment it shall be raised to twenty. So you better get back to fingering that tight little pussy cause you will get no rest, no sleep, and no food till you are done.”
Thezros moans in despair, but does as she is told. She slides her fingers back into her wet, swollen cunt and starts masturbating once again.
Bal Nemon smiles, happy with his life. This is so much less stressful then busting my ass slaying beasts and necromancers and clearing out ancient tombs and forgotten dungeons, he thinks. Oh, sure, if not for those many years adventuring I wouldn’t have this keep, wouldn’t have the piles of powerful cursed items that I’ve used to make these women my slaves, to make them slutty and perverted and make all their tits bigger. But I’d never go back to my old life.
He leans back in his throne, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of the woman kneeling before him pleasuring him with her tits. The two behind his throne wrap their arms down and begin rubbing his bare chest. Yes, he thinks, life is good. But it could be better, my harem could always use more women.
* * *
Bestla Arwenbright stands on a narrow but well trod dirt path, staring up at the mountain range looming before her. Its snow covered peaks, seen between the tall pine trees that loomed above her on both sides of the path, remind her of the home she left when she was very young. She had always wanted to return there, but the Sisterhood had never allowed it. “We are your family now,” they would always say.
There were times when she wondered how different her life would have been had she not grown up a member of the Sisterhood of Righteousness. Would she still have become an adventurer? Would she have realized that she was able to tap into the primal force known as the barbarian’s rage? She liked to think that she would have, that even without the Sisterhoods influence she would have taken to a life where she used her natural skill in combat and her barbarian’s rage to fight evil in all its forms.
She was young, barely a woman of age, yet still she had quickly become one of the greatest agents for the Sisterhood in this region. She knew a great deal of that was her natural talent for battle. Her body was small and well muscled for a young Human woman. Her small stature and fit body allowed her to move fast, making her deadly with the sword she wore at her side. She could out duel most with a sword.
And when brute strength was more important than speed she could return the sword to its sheath and draw the large ax she wore on her back. It took two hands to wield and its massive blade was nearly the size of her small torso, but once it was in her hands her foes soon trembled. Magical runes would begin to glow blue on the blade and all who felt the weapons bite would learn that it was more than simple metal.
Of course there were some foes that were too strong or too many in numbers for her ax or sword to handle on their own. At those times Bestla would tap into her barbarian’s rage. This took most by surprise. She was not just small, but exceedingly “cute”. Her facial features still looked incredibly youthful, her tiny button nose and full pouty lips making her look like a virginal maiden and not a ferocious warrior. Even her bright red hair, normally associated with fiery warriors, made her look young and innocent. It was just too thick and full and long to look like it belonged to anyone other than an innocent and weak maiden.
But once she tapped into her barbarian’s rage her body would begin to swell, her muscles growing bulkier and her height increasing. The more she’d tap into the rage the stronger and larger she could become, her small frame becoming a hulking monstrosity. Eventually she would grow so large that she could even wield her large ax in one hand, drawing her sword with the other and using it as a dagger as she duel wielded and became a whirlwind of death.
Because of the fluid nature of her body she wore mostly loose fitting clothes. Her top, made of leather straps and baggy green cloth, could contain her bulk as she grew stronger. But most importantly it was designed to be able to contain her breasts. When in her normal form they were small, barely more than perky bumps of flesh upon her chest. But like all barbarian’s her breasts would grow as she increased her strength, and the loose fitting top would keep them covered.
Because her mobility was important when she wasn’t raging the rest of her outfit was actually rather minimal. Her top only went down to her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. She wore a skirt of leather lappets, strips of treated leather that hung down and acted as armor as well as keeping her most private of body parts well covered.
Her thighs and arms remained bare. She wore large leather gloves to help her keep her grip on her weapons, and they were covered in leather straps that would expand when she raged. As for her legs, she war large knee high boots lined with thick fur but plated with well forged metal.
The outfit was complete with a long, tattered green cloak she could use to keep warm at night or in cold climates like the mountains before her. It also served to help her hide in foliage if stealth was needed.
Of course stealth was not what her current mission called for. It was important, the Sisterhood would not have entrusted her with one of their crimson rings of power if it had not been, but it was not a mission that required subtly. There were other agents for those kinds of missions. Bestla, she was sent on the missions that required either martial finesse, brute strength, or both.
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