Alright perverts, the sixth 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 days have passed and Bestla’s situation is unchanged, but thankfully during that time Bal has paid little attention to her. He’s fixated on his new toy, she thinks as she fitfully turns over in her bed.
Reaching up she tugs at the large metal collar around her neck. It’s uncomfortable and makes sleeping nearly impossible unless she’s physically exhausted. It’s late and all she wants is to escape the world for a few hours while asleep but the damn collar that’s keeping her prisoner even stops her from attaining that small relief from her nearly hopeless life.
Her bedroom is dark. There are no candles lit and it lies deep within Bal’s mountainside keep where there are no windows to let any natural moonlight in. Bestla rolls fitfully from side to side, not just uncomforted by the Dwarven slave collar on her neck but by the fact she is dressed in a lacy nightgown made of transparent fabric. She hates the way its fabric feels on her body naked body, but her Master insists that all of his harem members wear the clothing at night.
Her eyes shoot open as a creaking sound begins to echo through the silent room. Light floods in through the door to her room as it is slowly opens. Bestla sits up, pulling a blanket up to cover her small breasts. She can see a shadowed figure slip in through the barely open door, whoever it is closing the door behind them and returning the room to total darkness.
“Who’s there,” Bestla whispers, fearful its Bal coming to make use of her.
“It’s me, Ahloral,” a deep raspy feminine voice says. Bestla knows immediately that something is wrong. The woman has always seemed so haughty and in command, cruel and mocking even when following Bal’s perverse orders. But her voice now sounds tense and full of fear.
A dim green flame bursts into existence, bathing the room in flickering colored light. Ahloral holds a floating green flame in one outstretched hand, the light illuminating her face. Her brows are furrowed and her eyes dart around the room as if looking for hidden watchers. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” Bestla says, “it’s just me in here.”
Ahloral rushes across the room and tosses something onto Bestla’s bed. “That bag’s got all your gear in it. Get up, get out of that ridiculous night gown, and get dressed. We’re getting out of here.”
Looking at the pack on her bed Bestla can see that it is indeed her traveling pack and that it does seem to be loaded down with all her adventuring gear, including her normal clothing and even her sword and battle axe strapped to the side. With her heart racing she moves to reach for the gear, but a moment later the collar around her neck warms and sends magical energy coursing through her body preventing her from reaching for the items.
“Can’t,” she groans.
“Right,” Ahloral says, “you’ve got that damn Dwarven collar on. Well, I can take care of that.” She lifts her hand into the air sending the green flame floating up towards the ceiling to fully illuminate the room.
Bestla can now see that she’s dressed in her normal skimpy purple outfit, one that shows off plenty of skin and her prominent, large breasts. But she’s also wearing a traveling pack of her own and is wearing a belt covered in pouches. She starts digging inside of one of those pouches. She pulls out a handful of small metal items that look like arcane lock picks. “I’ll have it off you in a second,” she mumbles as she starts to pick and prod at the lock on the magical slave collar.
Bestla doesn’t hinder her, but she’s confused and lets the dark haired battle mage know so. “What is going on? Why are you taking my collar off? Why are you talking about us escaping? Won’t that make your Master, uh, OUR Master angry?”
There is a click followed by the feeling of an ever present magical flow into her mind rushing away. The slave collar then falls from her neck, freeing her totally from Bal’s control.
“I’m sure Bal’s going to be furious, but he’s no longer our Master. I don’t know how, but the mental control he has over me seems to have worn off. You saw how Floronia submitted to him. My guess is that enchantment needs to be occasionally reinforced. But he hasn’t fucked me in a long time, he’s been too distracted by all his ‘new toys’. I realized earlier today I was free.”
The black haired beauty bites her lip and looks around nervously. “I wish I could save everyone… but I can’t. Lizzoznaih is too far gone, and Floronia just submitted to his power. And Reh and Thezros are both too compromised by everything Bal has done to them.
“But he’s barely touched you! And you’re with the Sisterhood, right? That’s what you said, they sent you to take care of him? Well, I’m getting you out of here and taking you with me. I’ll help you get back to them so you can let them know what a real threat to women like us he is. Maybe you can convince them to march a small army back here to put an end to all of this.” She waves at the keep around her. “Now come on, get dressed quickly! I don’t know how long we have.”
Less than ten minutes later Bestla is dressed once more in her proper outfit, a green loose fitting top and sturdy leather boots and skirt. Her travel pack is strapped to her back and she is armed with her sword and battle axe. For the first time since meeting Lizzoznaih in the small tavern she feels like herself, mighty and ready to face any threat.
She tells Ahloral so. “Good,” the battle mage says, “hold on to that feeling but keep quiet. We still have to get out of the keep. I’m hoping we can sneak out without running into anyone, but if we do we might have to fight them…”
Together they creep out of the bedroom, moving slowly through the keep’s halls and working to avoid any of the other inhabitants. At one point they can hear the grunts and moans of Bal and Floronia fucking. Ahloral has been here for a long time and knows the castle well, so she is easily able to lead Bestla through its halls away from the sounds.
“This way,” she whispers. “There’s a hidden staircase down this hall that leads to a long passageway. Ball used it to sneak into the keep when he first slayed the evil wizard that originally lived here. It will take us halfway down the mountain nearly to the inn…”
“Is that where we are headed?” Bestla asks.
“No,” Ahloral whispers back. “Everyone there is under Bal’s control in some way or another. We need to avoid people till we are away from here. We’ll head into the wilds, only travel by night and hide during the day.”
After entering the hidden staircase they begin the long trek through a narrow and dark passageway. It leads ever down and away from Bal’s keep, every step making Bestla’s freedom feel more real. It takes a long time to reach the end of the passageway, and when they crack the secret entrance on the other side open it’s to find that the sun is just beginning to rise.
By then the adrenaline that had been keeping her awake during the night is fading and both women are starting to feel sleepy. But the sight of dawn revitalizes them. “Move quickly,” Ahloral hisses. “We need to get away from here, in case Bal thinks to search this way for us. But as soon as we find a hiding place we need to take refuge in it. He has spies everywhere… Even the birds here might serve him and we need to try and keep out of sight.”
“Birds?” Bestla asks as they dash through the pine trees around them. “Does he have druidic powers?”
“No, but he’s got plenty of charms and staffs he’s stolen from evil druids that let him tap into their power.” Ahloral moves quickly, frequently looking back to make sure Bestla is following her.
Bestla is bothered by the fact that she now notices the way the woman’s large breasts bounce as she runs, notices the curve of her large shapely ass before her. Those are all things she wouldn’t have noticed before falling under Bal’s power, but her sexually naive body has been awakened and it seems there’s no going back to the way things used to be.
“He spent so long as an adventurer,” Ahloral explains as they move through the forest, “collecting the items his vanquished foes used for evil. He had a huge vault of the evil things. Couldn’t figure out how to destroy most of them and was just trying to keep them out of circulation. But when he turned to this new corrupt lifestyle of selfish sexual gratification they were all there, waiting for him to use. He’s powerful, blessed by his vile cock god. But that store of cursed and evil items makes him nearly unbeatable.”
“The Sisterhood will be able to defeat him,” Bestla says quickly. “Men like him are exactly why the order was founded.”
“Good. But we can talk more once we find somewhere to hide for the day. If I remember correctly there are some ruins not far from here, we should be able to hide in them till its dark…”
* * *
“This is an unexpected occurrence,” one of the dark gods watching over Bestla says. “Surely we are not going to just sit here and let this Sisterhood member escape such an enjoyable fate? Let us use her ring of corruption, maybe use its influence to convince her that this Ahloral is working against her. At the very least we need to ensure Bal finds them both before Bestla can get word to the Sisterhood!”
There is a deep laughter that rings out through the ether around the gathered gods. “Look closer into the mind of this Ahloral,” the voice says. There is silence for a moment, and then a chorus of revelation as the other gods see what is really transpiring.
“Why, she’s still under Bal’s control,” the first god says. “This is all a ploy, isn’t it? A deliciously sick game to break Bestla and make her submit?”
“Yes. The Dwarven slave collar may be off her neck, but she’s still very much a prisoner. She just doesn’t know it.”
* * *
The place Bestla and Ahloral take refuge in is made of cold stone, an ancient tomb that was long ago cracked open and looted. It now lays empty, its insides totally dark and hidden from the outside world. The two figures move deep into its depths, climbing into a small chamber and sealing its entry behind them. For the time being the small space is illuminated by Ahloral’s green flame.
“We should get comfortable,” she tells Bestla. “Bed down and sleep through the day so we can travel under cover of night. Besides, I’m tired,” she adds with a stretch and yawn. “I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“I’m tired too,” Bestla says after echoing the woman’s yawn. Both of them begin digging in their travel packs, pulling out bedrolls.
The space they are in is small and it’s clear that when their bedrolls are rolled out they will practically be on top of each other once they lay down. “I know there isn’t a lot of room in here,” Ahloral says, “but maybe it’s not a bad thing that we’ll have to stay close while we sleep.”
As she speaks she holds the green flame up in her hand, illuminating the bedrolls below them. While Bestla’s attention is on the ground and away from Ahloral the dark haired mage uses her free hand to cast a second spell. Her fingers dance in the air, magical glyphs momentarily glowing in the air before fading into a barely visible wisp of smoke.
It floats up before her face where Ahloral raises her hand and catches it, holding it in place for a moment. Then, with a sly smile on her pretty red lips, she blows the vapor towards Bestla’s face. The cloud flows forward, slamming into the heroine’s face. As the vapor hits her she inhales deeply, breathing much of it directly into her mouth.
In the flickering, dim green light Ahloral can see the charm taking immediate effect. Bestla’s pupils dilate and her eyes glaze over. Her posture softens, her tense shoulders slumping in relaxation. “I feel… strange,” she says, her voice suddenly distant and dreamy.
“You’re just tired,” Ahloral says, moving close to the fiery red haired woman and wrapping an arm around her. Bestla is significantly shorter than her. Ahloral is tall and curvy, Bestla small and thin. She takes the smaller woman into her arms, dispelling the green flame and letting the darkness envelope them. “Come, lay. It’s time for rest now,” she says to Bestla, pressing her small body into her own then pulling her down to the ground.
Bestla simply follows along. “You’re so soft… and warm,” she whispers.
“Yes,” Ahloral says, the predatory grin on her face unseen in the dark. “Let us combine out bedrolls. You can take comfort in my soft warmness as we rest. Let me help you forget all about the evils we are escaping.”
The two fumble in the dark as they make themselves comfortable, combining their two bedrolls into one. Once that is accomplished Ahloral pulls Bestla back close to her, using skilled hands to begin removing her top.
“What… what are you doing,” Bestla asks, confused. Ahloral’s hands are under her clothing, sensually caressing her skin. Her fingers dance across her back, tickling her in a pleasurable way. One hand finds a way around her body to Bestla’s small breasts. She plays with them with adept skill, making the petite heroine moan in pleasure.
“Let me take your top off,” Ahloral whispers in her ear, kissing it slightly then nipping at her ear lobe. “I’ll take my top off too and we can press our chests together, then you can really enjoy my soft warmness.” Her hands continue to explore and caress and pinch at Bestla as she whispers in her ear, pulling her clothing off and giving the charmed woman little choice.
Once Bestla is topless Ahloral takes her own top off, letting her large, full, heavy, soft breasts spill out. She rolls Bestla over on to her back and gets on top of her, letting her breasts rest down on the small woman’s chest. She presses into her, smashing her voluminous breasts into her chest.
“See,” she whispers as she plants small kisses next to the red head’s lips, “soft and warm.” Bestla begins to answer, but Ahloral chooses that moment to kiss her, using her tongue to force her lips open and invading her mouth. Bestla moans slightly, leaning up into the kiss and wrapping her arms around the larger woman.
Ahloral lifts up slightly, reaching between their chests to squeeze at Bestla’s breasts. “I want to feel them bigger,” she whispers as she gropes at them. “Can you make them bigger for me? Activate your barbarian’s rage, grow and make them grow with you?” As she asks her questions she starts playing with Bestla’s nipples, pinching and twisting them in a pleasurable way.
Bestla moans and arches her back. “Yes… yes, anything you want, just don’t stop!”
The tomb is pitch black and Ahloral can’t see Bestla, but she can imagine the look on her face. She pictures her pretty freckled face squished up in momentary anger and she taps into her primal rage. Then she feels the affects of the rage, feels the small body under her growing more substantial. Bestla’s muscles swell, growing thicker and larger as her strength increases. Her whole body seems to grow in size, the small woman gradually getting larger and taller.
But the thing that changes most is her breasts. A moment ago they were small, barely big enough to squeeze. Now they are swelling in Ahloral’s hands, increasing in mass at an almost alarming speed. They double in size and then keep growing, soon becoming far more than a handful. But unlike the rest of her body, which grows ever firmer, Bestla’s growing breasts are growing softer. Ahloral’s hands sink into the growing tit-flesh.
She shifts her body, moving her mouth away from Bestla’s lips and down to her breasts. She takes one of her nipples into her mouth and starts sucking on it, grabbing the tit it belongs to with both hands and squeezing and grabbing it in her hands. She kneads the growing pliable flesh as it swells and increases in her hands.
Bestla moans and bucks under her. “By the gods! I had no idea they were so sensitive while they were growing!”
Ahloral pulls one hand away from Bestla’s breasts, snakes it down the woman’s body. Her stomach and abs are now rock hard, full of swollen muscles. She shifts her body, moving so she can sneak her hand between the now massively muscled, huge-titted red haired woman’s legs. Bestla parts like a flower for her, her undergarments and skirt easily pulled to the side to reveal a pussy already moist and waiting to be fingered.
“Ooooooooh,” Bestla coos as Ahloral slips her fingers into her. “I know I shouldn’t, but I do so love the feeling of a woman touching me there,” she says quickly. Her hips are moving now, pressing her body up against Ahloral’s fingers as they thrust in and out of her. Meanwhile, Ahloral is still sucking on the woman’s enlarged tits. She moves from one to the other, making sure both nipples are given plenty of attention.
“Your fingers are so skilled,” Bestla says between a gasp of pleasure. “You know just where to touch me… that place inside that feels so good. Your touch is firm yet so gentle… not like Bal’s at all.” She arches her back and moans loudly then, her vaginal muscles constricting slightly around Ahloral’s fingers. “Oh, yes… so good! You know just how to work me…”
Ahloral is pleased. Bestla’s body is already so changed from when she first arrived at the keep. Then she was so inexperienced, free of all sexual desire that wasn’t magically forced from her. But Bal and his harem had awaken the primal sexual beast that sleeps deep in her, the beast that sleeps deep in all sentient beings. Ahloral will spend the night waking it further, pleasing the barbarian till she’s the one taking the initiative, till Bestla is the one fingering and kissing and moving her mouth onto a pussy because she craves the taste of a woman’s juices.
It’s all part of the plan, Ahloral thinks. Her grin is wide and evil, unseen in the darkness of the small tomb.
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