The Battle for Brynhildr

"We're never gonna get outta here..." the shivering young girl cried for the eighth time.

"Yes we are," her companion assured her impatiently for the eighth time. "Just stick close to me, and we'll make it, alright?"

Brynhildr looked up at the red-head with admiration for the eighth time. Despite the enormous pressure on her, she was keeping herself as composed as if she was making no more critical a decision as to whether to advance on a chess board with a bishop instead of a knight. And she looked stunning in her black lace lingerie with red trim and her matching satin pillows.

Hildy wore a huge bra to compensate for her breasts, purported to be the largest on campus, and she had been made to wear a tiny, tiny g-string to compensate, but she had never worn such underwear in her life, and now she was scared and alone in a huge house filled with women who were out to get her. She was armed with nothing more than a small silk pillow that weighed less than one of her breasts.

"Come on, Hildy. They have as much to fear as you do. What is that in your hand?"

She turned the pillow over a few times. "My favorite pillow?"

"No, it's your weapon. It's just like mine." Not exactly, but a pillow is a pillow. "It's just as good as what everyone else has. It's all you need to defend yourself, all you have to do is strike when the time is right. You can do this."

A scream tore through the house, further terrifying Hildy. "Relax! It's fine!" her companion insisted strictly, but it was too late.

"It's not fine; we're all gonna die!" Hildy shrieked, and in her terror she lept up from her safe hiding place and fled the room before her companion should react.

"Hildy, no! Brynhildr!" But it was too late.

************

"Well, this was certainly a good idea," Hildy said out-loud to comfort herself in the utter quiet of the endless halls. The only light to guide her was what creeped in from the thin sliver of a moon through the drawn curtains at the ends of the halls. Portraits could be just made out to line the walls, but there was never enough light to make out more than a crude silhouette.

Comfort. That was a far cry away. All last semester all she wanted was a bit of comfort. She received none from her flat mates, either ogling men or jealous women. She was long since accustomed to covering her chest up, but to no avail. Six months she had lived on campus, and she hadn't made a single friend.

Until she showed up. But it was no offer of friendship. "We all know what you'll be doing on Valentine's day!" she had laughed, and a large group of her cronies all bearing the letters "SLT" joined in on the laughing. Hildy had heard worse, but it was too much for a certain someone.

"Not this time," the stranger had said to her. "She's gone much too far, and you've endured far too much. Valentine's day is no day to make a girl fee inadequate about herself, and you have nothing to feel inadequate about."

She then looked with favor over Hildy's breast-filled sweatshirt and gave her a most warm smile, a smile that she began to remember seeing from that same girl several times ever since she arrived, but she was too withdrawn to notice a nice face.

That was one week earlier. She touched her left breast with her free hand, feeling the rough scratch of paper tucked away. It was too dark to read, but she had memorized the lines written there in beautiful scrip perfectly, a hand-written copy of what was sent to the cruel person,

"Enough is enough. You mock and scorn, and I've let it pass; not this time. You have offended a sweet lady, and for that I will personally punish you. I am honor-bound to inform you that one week from tonight, on the night of National Sisterhood Bonding Day, my sisters and I will invade your house of lies and false comfort to make you apologize to our newest pledge.

"I will trust you and yours to abide by the conduct of engagement as dictated by Bonding Day, and you can expect our presence by the first light of the moon on the aforementioned day. I bid you farewell, for next time we meet, it shall be as mortal enemies."

All of that for her, for Hildy. The response came the next day; and when she saw it, she almost peed herself,

"You have made a grave mistake in challenging us, and even worse in giving us such warning. There is no way you can win, but we welcome you to try. Should you fail, you know what the forfeit is. She will make us a fine pledge. Until then..."

She hadn't known about the stipulation, what was on the line. But her new leader and elder sister had showed no fear, "This night is about you. You'll take your destiny back into your own hands, and you'll do it as the beautiful woman you are, not some cowardly mouse who runs from adversity. Take your weapon. Strike down your foes that would oppose you. When you emerge, you will be renowned across campus as a woman who defends her honor and her beauty."

When she was made to dress in an outfit that cost more than anything she owned and weighed less than her hair, she was afraid to come out, but her leader urged her on with silent words until at last she did, right out into the rest. She was horrified, for everyone else had dressed down to their underwear, and they all looked as teen goddesses dressed for a hot wedding night, not for battle.

When she walked through them, guided by her fearless leader, they all nodded to her confidently, also looking long and lustfully at her chest, brought to new heights by the costly bra. She was used to women staring just as much as men, but there was no jealousy from them, only desire. It gave her a strength to put on her robe and step out the door, armed with nothing more than her silk pillow and her determination.

But when they stepped out as one unit, her courage had begun to fade. The moderate winter wind flew through her robe, chilling her bare skin. Other passersby leered at her and her companions, but her companions held their heads high, refusing to hide their beauty. So neither did she. Halfway to their destination, she had been holding her head just as high.

But once they arrived, all that was over. It had looked abandoned, dark, and terrifying. They had snuck in through the front door, it being the least expected point of entry, also being the largest room in the house and having the most exits to flee from. The tactic had worked, but soon their penetration was discovered. The trap was sprung, and they all had fled.

Hildy could still remember the screams from those who never made it out of that room. They were dead, and she was to blame. All through the house she had fled, suddenly finding herself in the arms of her leader, who had pursued her and kept her safe. Until her moment of insecurity, the moment when yet another of her new sisters that had trusted her and fought for her lost her life for her cause.

Now she was alone. Alone and frightened. Again. Again, feeling pathetic, worthless, humiliated, and alone. It made her fall to the floor and cry.

She knew she should've kept her peace, for her silence was the last thing protecting her, but it was too late. A nearby door burst open, and what must've been five lace-clad women came tearing through, each bearing a frightening arsenal of pillows.

She cowered against the wall, trying to draw farther away against a hard place as they ruthlessly circled her, turning their deadly weapons in their hands, flaunting them just to scare her. They were all singularly beautiful in the dim light, all wearing as little as her, with many different sizes and colors. Some wore stockings, others high heels that displayed perfectly sculpted calves. But none of them had breasts like hers.

"I wish I never had these stupid things!" she complained.

"Hildy, no! Stay quiet!"

"But I'm scared!"

"Okay, okay, hush up, sweety. Listen: These aren't evil, and you're not cursed. You're blessed."

"You try them, then."

Her leader got to her knees in front of her where she was holed up out of the way, and lifted one of her heavy breasts in her tiny hand. "These may be what got you into this trouble, but they're also what'll see you through this. They'll protect you. You have to trust me."

There was such a sweetness in the way the bold woman with hair for fire looked at her so calmly, with so much concern. Her thumb swept sweetly across her breast, teasing her hardening nipple under the soft, thin fabric.

"Be strong, okay? For me?" She pushed forward and kissed her. Just a light kiss, but something that warmed her to her toes before she ever realized her exposed skin was chilled, even in the warmth of the sorority. Her leader's hand gripped softly on her breast, almost not at all, now squeezing her nipple with each grip. She felt a strange moisture from under her panties, which she mistook for an eyepatch when she first saw it.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

The hand pulled away from her breast, and she felt alone again, but the warmth on her lips spread throughout her, giving her strength.

But it was over, all over. Tears burst forth from her eyes; she cried in great sobs, completely broken down by her adversaries. She heard their laughter pouring down on her; she kept her eyes to the ground, seeing only perfect legs, some in fishnet, some in nylons, some bare. All those legs moved towards her in a sudden rush, and she knew it was over.

"So much for the panties," the cynical side of herself thought as she felt her urine leak out of her in terror, soaking her thighs and the carpet.

"Gross; she pissed herself!" one of them said.

Several long seconds went by; she felt herself breathing, and she knew she was still alive, but for how long? They came in to recover the pillows they had thrown, all of them missing her by no greater measurement than a hair on a cunt. The cold breeze chilled her where her urine had embarrassingly warmed her thighs. This was only the beginning; they would keep her alive.

They pulled her to her feet, pulling her hair back to look into her eyes, glossed over from fear. "What do we do with her?"

"It seems this little number is the cause for all this trouble. We'll bring her back to the boss."

Her head was pulled down, and the dull thud of a pillow echoed from the back of her neck, and near-darkness became total darkness.

*********

"Ahh, you're coming around," an over-excited voice said.

Hildy stirred and wavered, and then she opened her eyes. She was in a large room lit by a series of sweet-smelling candles. She felt her bra and her panties still; they hadn't undressed her. But her hands were tied securely around her back, leaving her helpless, legs spread on the floor, shoved up against a wall.

She saw the speaker, the same arrogant girl as before, a college senior. Her body was trim and tan, accented by form-fitting hip-huggers and a silky bra pushing her small breasts up to make the most out of what cleavage they were capable of. Over it was a sheer silk robe, covering everything down to her legs but hiding nothing, its only obscuring feature being the white fur trim on top where it tied around her neck. She was carrying a red heart pillow just big enough for her head.

She walked over in her high-heeled slippers to a calender. "Mmm... February twelfth," she purred in her artificially sweetened voice. "Do you know why that day is important, my new little pledge?"

Hildy was still far too terrified to answer. Several guards patrolled the room, each bearing pillows of their own and dressed to the letters. Still, she managed a quick shaking of her head.

The cruel woman grinned. "National Sorority Bonding Day, two days from Valentine's day. Valentine's day, the one day out of the year most crucial to a woman's sense of sensuality and self-worth. Also a day of many broken hearts, which I'm sure you know everything about."

The guards stopped in their tracks to snicker at their leader's jab. "Years ago, sororities like this one felt their sisters drifting apart, caring more about five-minute boys than each other. National Sorority Bonding Day was began in secret, traditionally held the thirteenth, for us sisters to spend time in each other's company, reminding us of what's really important.

"The day got held back to the twelfth after a few tries, with girls needing all of the evening of the thirteenth to get their hair perfect. But since then, Bonding Day has been a very important day in the lives of university-dwelling women like us, who have bright futures and important boyfriends. You..."

Hildy was sobbing for self-pity, hardly listening to a word the woman was saying.

"You tried to ruin it for us, you and your band of rejects. So we'll have to have our fun with you to make up for it. Doesn't that sound fun?" She was rubbing her pussy through her panties, staring down at the prone Hildy. With her speech completed, she took several long leggy strides over to her, turned on the spot, bent at the waist, and pushed her panties down to her feet. Her pussy came into view, gripping to the mouth of the panties with a large drop of sticky fluid.

She stepped out of the panties and held them open to Hildy. She forced her mouth open, pushing the stained part in first, rubbing it along her tongue. Hildy went weak, tasting the cruel woman's come, something she had never tasted before, even from herself.

The rest of the panties got pushed into her mouth, and her mouth clamped shut. "Now, we have our fun," their leader said with glee. She went off to discuss matters with her guards, leaving Hildy to shed silent tears, to salivate around the panties, soaking them and swallowing the come blending with her saliva.

There was a knock on the door, which was opened at once by the closest guard. In came a beaten girl who could hardly stand. In fact, she was being dragged by two other girls, both with cruel, satisfied expressions on their faces. Hildy wanted to cry, for she recognized the hair. The long, bouncy, curly, red hair. The hair of her leader.

She had been blindfolded, her hands, bound. "Bring her to the other one," the evil leader laughed. The good leader was pulled, to weak to struggle, to Hildy's feet, where she was pushed to the floor.

"Now then," the evil leader laughed, "you shall give us some entertainment in exchange for all the trouble you've caused. Prepare her."

Her guards pulled her hips forward and pulled her panties down her legs to rest at her ankles, even using them to tie her feet together. Her joined feet were placed on her leader's back, her leader was pulled by the hair dangerously close between Hildy's legs.

Hildy felt the fear of death at the approaching head. She knew her death was close, as close as the tongue hanging out of her leader's tongue, and it took her to a place in her mind she never dared fear. The wicked leader leaned down to instruct the prostrated girl, "Now I'm sure you house of dykes have had plenty of practice at this, so I want a good show." She reached behind her to rub two fingers along the parted cheeks of her rival's ass. "And I think you know what happens if you don't. Go for it."

Hildy felt her mentor's breath on her bare pussy. She would never... but she was blind; she couldn't see who she would be torturing, and Hildy, gagged as she was, drowning in the sickening woman's intoxicating flavor, could say nothing. She saw the tongue come out, and in her terror, she urinated again.

"She's doing it again!" one of the guards shrieked, and they all heckled their amusement.

"Go ahead," the villainous leader said to the heroic one, slapping her on the ass, "drink up."

Hildy felt her leader's lips obediently latch around her sensitive urethra, even suckling away it it as she spilled what fluids she had left. Every drop of it was imbibed, and no complaints from the unwitting victim.

The brave soul began licking Hildy, cleaning her of any stray urine, and bringing her close to orgasm. It felt so sweet, so sensual, so comforting in the midst of danger, it made her forget about her troubles, if only for a moment. Everything the woman had said had turned out to be a lie, but at least she was degrading herself to make it up to her in the only way she could, and she didn't even know it was her.

She came, and she came again, and again, and again under her leader's tongue. She had never been licked down there before, having only slept with a couple men who had different tastes. She never dreamed a woman could make her feel that way, having only gotten the idea an hour earlier when her leader touched her breast and kissed her.

"Trust me implicitly. Never doubt me. I will never let you down."

She didn't know why she still held on to those words, not now, bound and humiliated in the face of their enemies, but she did. Something about the way the woman worked her tongue on her, giving her exactly what she needed for the moment. She wanted to clamp her thighs around her head, to hold her close so that she could never leave, let them both die that way.

And then there was chaos. The door had been forced open, and in strode... her leader? The same firy mane of red curls, the same beautiful black-with-red lingerie, the same sexy red heels.

"An imposter?" the warlord shouted when she saw the newcomer. "This one was only a decoy! Get her!"

She came flailing in with duel pillows, looking like some unbelievable action figure, ducking under a swing, striking the back of the legs with one pillow, stabbing the heart with another. They outnumbered her six-to-one, and there were more on the way, but on she fought.

Meanwhile, the imposter(?) had forced her body up between Hildy's legs and was kissing her. Great drops of her own girlcome leaked down her lips. Her lips parted at the insistence of the woman's tongue, and a flood of come held in her mouth was released, and Hildy swallowed it all, unable to resist, not wanting to.

They kissed but for the panties in her way, and with the prodding of the invading tongue, her teeth parted wider, wider, until the woman hooked her tongue around the panty strap, pulled it between her teeth, and drew it out.

Hildy coughed as silently as she could, saying, "Thanks," in her most hushed voice.

The other spit the panties out. "No problem. Get back-to-back, untie me."

She was turned to face the action as the other maneuvered her way behind her, and her heart lept with joy. The newcomer was winning, having struck down most of the competition with her blinding pillows. There was only the other leader still armed and standing.

The red-head made a grab between the blond's, revealing a horrible mistake on the blond's part: By taking her panties off, she had exposed her greatest weak point, the one place she could be killed instantly. But she was not to be taken so easily, and she struck her heart pillow hard across the incoming hand, disabling it. The red-head lost her other pillow tossing it into the face of a would-be assassin crawling up from behind.

The assassin lost consciousness at the blow, but the damage was done. The blond dove between the red-head's legs, getting her off her feet, pulling her panties up just far enough, and attempting to jab her fingers inside. The red-head caught her hand, but there was nothing she could do about the tongue that split her pussy in half, making her scream in pleasure.

"What's happening?" the other red-head demanded from behind Hildy in her hushed voice, still taking advantage of being forgotten.

"The new one's getting her pussy eaten; she looks like she's gonna come."

"Is she being fingered?"

"No, she's holding her by the hand, and the blond has to hold her butt up with the other one."