tagSci-Fi & FantasyThe Rings of Corruption: Bestla

The Rings of Corruption: Bestla

byPhiloHunter©

Author's note: This is part of my "Reader's Choice" series. The story was written in small chunks and posted to my personal website with a poll for what happens next. I then wrote the options my readers chose. What you have here is the "complete" story after it was finished.

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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.

As Bestla begins to think about her mission she turns to look up at the mountain looming before her. There on the mountain before her lays a keep that is her final destination. From where she stands it looks to be little more than a discolored speck on the mountain side.

A former adventurer named Bal Nemon calls the keep home. At one point the small castle belonged to a cruel wizard he had slayed. The people in this region had been overjoyed, long had they toiled under the evil wizards rule.

For a time Bal had come and gone from the keep, setting out on heroic quests and returning with carts full of loot. But as the years past he began to leave his keep less and less, till finally he proclaimed himself the Lord of this region. By then he was no longer the hero that had deposed the keep's previous owner. He had become selfish and perverse, somehow enslaving attractive young female adventures into becoming his sexual play things.

It was Bestla's mission to confront Bal, to see if there was any chance of redemption for the man once hailed by all as one of the greatest heroes on all of Alaria. Some in the Sisterhood hoped that Bestla would discover that the changes to the hero were being caused by some evil spell or cursed artifact. If so Bestla was to remove it and return Bal to his former glory. But if the changes were sincere, if he really had let The Corruption into his heart and had become a perverse monster Bestla's mission was simple: slay him and free his enslaved harem.

Looking at the distant keep makes Bestla feel a strange tightness in her chest. She is strong and able to tap into her barbarian's strength to grow even stronger. But Bal Nemon is rumored to be unbeatable in combat, and she fears what will happen if she has to face the man alone.

"But this is the mission the Sisterhood has sent me on," she says to herself. "They would not have sent me alone if they didn't think I could do it. And they have given me one of the rings of protection to aid me in my quest." She looks down at the ring on her finger, not sure what it does but certain it will protect her.

The ring begins to glow, sending magical energy out into her mind. She blinks, suddenly compelled not to think about the ring. For if she was to continue thinking about it she might recall that no agent of the Sisterhood given one has ever finished a quest. A highly suspicious fact, but one the rings ensure none in the Sisterhood think too long on.

Having forgotten what she was thinking about Bestla simply continues down her path, slowly making her way towards the mountain before her. She still has a few days journey before reaching Bal's keep. She is capable of sleeping in the wilds if, but she'd prefer to find an inn before the sun sets. The maps she has brought with her indicate that there is one not far ahead of her, and that is where she is now headed.

* * *

The Brass Nixie Tavern is a small, two story building sitting beside the main, but small, road that travels through the region. Tall pine trees stood around it, the mountain looming behind. The land here is steep, the elevation making it so the nights are always cold, even in the middle of summer. The inn sees a steady flow of travelers, eager for a hot meal and a warm, soft bed.

Bestla enters the inn just as the sun is setting outside. She has yet to purchase a room for the night and has so far been sitting alone in the small dining hall on the inns first floor, enjoying one of the warm meals the inn is so well known for.

There is a smattering of travelers around her, ruddy peasants moving from one small village to another and traveling merchants doing the same. Bestla stands out in the crowd, but she is used to that. She is an adventurer and they tend to stand out no matter where they go.

What interests her is the fact that there is another woman sitting across the room that stands out as much as she does. She was an exceedingly tall and exceptionally pretty Human woman with long flowing blond hair. Even from across the room Bestla can see that the stranger has a body that would turn heads no matter where it goes. She has thick pink lips and a shapely hourglass figure with a plump wide ass, tiny waist, and impressively large breasts; all of which are displayed by an outfit most would consider scandalously skimpy.

More than the woman's physical beauty and obvious sexual attractiveness, things Bestla really shouldn't be noticing in the first place, it is her outfit that draws Bestla's eyes. Her clothing is little more than elegant underwear that barely keeps her large breasts in check and covers up her womanhood, although the outfit is complimented by plenty of fancy jewelry.

It is a style of dress that many wizards don, especially those that have taken up adventuring. The scant clothing allows free movement of hands and arms while complicated enchantments are cast, and as most wizards' bodies are protected by spells they have no need of bulky armor that will only slow them down. And outfits that flaunt ones sexuality are frequently favored by female adventurers, setting them apart from the normally sexually repressed villages and nobility that filled Alaria.

Bestla wants to know what has brought this strange, beautiful woman to this region. If she is an adventurer, as she strongly suspects, she'd need to warn her about Bal Nemon. She even has hope that if the woman is an adventurer that she can be convinced to join her when she goes to confront the ex-hero. The Sisterhood may think she can accomplish her mission on her own, but Bestla has her doubts.

More than any of that, though, Bestla is filled with an overpowering need to be closer to the woman. Her beauty really is striking, and staring at her prominent breasts and full lips from across the room is making Bestla feel strangely warm, leaving her flush with a racing heart and oddly damp underpants. She doesn't notice the way her ring is humming with magical energy that flows up into her, making the normally chaste young woman suddenly very attracted to the blond stranger.

Before Bestla manages to work up the courage to approach the woman she rises to her feet and comes across the room towards Bestla. As the stranger crosses the room she smiles at Bestla, a kind expression that seems to acknowledge the way Bestla has been staring at her all evening and saying it is all fine.

"May I join you?" she asks, her attractive lips curling up into a pretty smile.

"Of course," Bestla says, feeling unfamiliar butterflies in her chest as the gorgeous woman sits across from her. She has to fight not to stare at the woman's chest, feeling as though the mass of exposed cleavage is an inescapable vortex drawing her eyes to them.

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