By J.B. Hickock 'Pornwriter'


Jasmine Jewel, Lady Chloroform, steps into her lab, her dark green eyes thoughtful behind her glasses. In contrast to her normal outfit of some type of lab coat and skirt combo, tonight she wears a Wonder Woman costume, tight bustier, tall boots, dark blue hair pulled into a pony tail, her firm breasts almost popping out of her top as she leans over a table. She is going tonight to a special gathering, invitation-only, to see a great breakthrough, only for people like her of high intelligence and. . . special tastes.

But as she leans over her desk, Jasmine's narrow heart-shaped face twists into a snarl: someone has been in her lab!

No sooner has she  made the realization, then firm hands grab Jasmine from behind, an arm loops around her body, slapping a sweet-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose.

"Mhmmph!" Jasmine cries out, her eyes flying open with shock. She struggles to escape, lunging back with her arms, kicking desperately with her legs, but too late; her attacker has a firm grip on her; Jasmine's heels scrape on the floor as she is dragged backward, frustrating her attempts to get them under her. Her lungs burning, Jasmine takes a breath, and her lab wobbles before her eyes. she can feel her arms and legs growing weaker as the powerful drug takes effect.

She grabs at the wrist of the hand hand holding the cloth to her face and wrenches at it with all her might, but her weakened fingers slip from their grip. "Uh-uh!" a girlish voice whispers in her ear. "Just take a deep breath like a good girl!"

Jasmine's eyes widen with shock as she recognizes the voice. . . hers! She gasps in surprise, taking in another breath of the drug, and her eyes go dark around the edges. Her head droops as her neck goes limp. Desperate, Jasmine braces her feet, and shoves herself backward, but her attacker steps backward a bit, then braces herself, holding Jasmine helpless in her grip. "There you go. . ." she whispers, her hot breath stirring on Jasmine's cheek. "That's right. . ." she says, her voice going quiet in jasmine's ear as her vision goes dark. "Sleep. . . Sleep. . ."

#

Jasmine wakes with a start. "Mmmph?!" she cries out, her cry muffled to a moan by the big ballgag strapped in her mouth.

"Oh, you're awake!" a voice identical to her own says, and a pair of tall black boots step into Jasmine's view. Jasmine hangs upside down just above the floor, and as she looks up(or down, from her perspective) she can feel numberless bands of rope wound tightly around her body. Jasmine cranes her neck, raising her eyes over the trailing edge of a black cloak, to a black latex-covered crotch, over a tight hourglass figure -her own- up to a smiling, gloating face. Her own. "Hello, Jasmine," her doppleganger in a Raven costume says. "You can call me. . . Beryl." She laughs at the look on Jasmine's face.

"What an amazing coincidence, two of us, who look sooo much alike- we might be long-lost twins!" She leans close to Jasmine, looking her in her furious eyes with a grin. "Well, 'sister,' I think you should stay home from this party. But!" she adds with a wider grin. "I'm not going to leave you alone!"  With a flourish, she whips out a large vibrator.

"Nhmm!" Jasmine whimpers, shaking her head.

"Oh, you don't wanna cum while I'm out? Sure, anything for my sister!" Beryl says with an evil glint in her eye as she dials the vibrator down, then she reaches up and slides it into Jasmine's costume.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine moans, squirming her bound body as the vibrator slides into her. She gasps,  her naked breasts heaving, released from her upside-down costume by their own weight. Her nipples harden as the soft buzzing mounts inside her, her breasts bobbing as she jerks and sways from side to side. "Mhmm?" she whimpers, staring pleadingly up at her 'sister.'

Beryl laughs in her face, turning away. "Don't cause trouble while I'm gone, sister!" she calls over her shoulder.

"Mhmmmm!" Jasmine screams as the door slams shut, locking her away.

#

Jasmine writhes in her bonds, her helpless body squirming, her hips pumping as she tries to grind herself on the vibrator inside her. at first it was an outrage, she hated it. Then she started to like it, then she liked it more, then it took her close to the edge of a climax, and then it left her there.

She hangs there, desperately trying to push herself over, her naked skin flushed and pink, the air redolent with her arousal, powerful mad scientist reduced to a helpless slut, desperate to cum, by coils of rope and a merciless little machine.

The door slams open.

"Mwahh!" Jasmine cries out pleadingly.

"Aww, did you miss me?" Beryl asks mockingly. still in her Raven costume, she carries a small package in her hand. "Well, look what I got!" she says in a mocking sing-song tone, holding it before Jasmine's eyes.

"Mhmm!" Jasmine cries out angrily. She jumps and squirms in her bonds, biting down on her gag, glaring up at Beryl who only laughs at her.

"The best part?" she says, leaning down to look Jasmine in the eye. "Everyone will blame you for the theft! I mean, what could you tell them?" Beryl asks rhetorically. "'My identical twin did it?' Come on! Who'd believe that?"

"I would, actually."

Beryl's eyes widen in fright, then powerful arms wrapped in dark gloves reach around her, clapping a cloth over her mouth, and jerking her back.

"Mhmmph!" Beryl cries out, sounding just like Jasmine did when she did the same to her.

Jasmine watches, fascinated as Beryl squirms in her attacker's hands, kicking out with her feet, tugging at the powerful arms that hold her, her breasts working as she struggles to not breathe in the drug fumes. Jasmine can see the desperation in Beryl's eyes, can see them water as her lungs burn, starved of oxygen. She takes a breath, and her slim body trembles in her captor's arms. Beryl's cries grow weaker, her flailing slows, her eyes close, snapping open again as she fights to stay awake. But finally, Beryl goes limp in her captor's arms, and is laid down on the floor.

Jasmine gets her first look at her rescuer, and gasps through her gag.

She is tall, taller than Jasmine or Beryl, and she wears black knee-high boots that gleam redly, and gloves likewise that stretch halfway up her arms. She is naked other than those, her skin glowing in reds and yellows, like a hungry fire. Her curly fire-like hair hangs down almost to her waist, and a black eye patch covers her right eye.

She ignores Jasmine, leaning over Beryl's prone body. She grabs up some coils of rope, identical to those binding Jasmine, and sets to work on Beryl, wrapping rope around her wrists and elbows, stretching her costume as her breasts are pressed out by the tight elbow tie. More rope goes around her chest, squeezing her breasts, pressing them out even further. A veritable web of rope goes around her body, sinking into her soft flesh, and between her legs to anchor her bonds tightly. The fire-woman binds Beryl's legs next, above and below the knees, and her ankles, then turns, rising to her feet to meet Jasmine's eyes. "I am Pyra," she says. "The Flame."

Jasmine shakes her head, mumbling into her gag.

Pyra nods. "You've never heard of me. I'm new around here. But soon everyone will know my name, and you two are just the start of it!"

"Twmph?" Jasmine moans.

"Yes. You didn't think I was rescuing you, did you?" Pyra says. "You are both wanted for a host of crimes." Pyra puts her hands on her hip and shakes her head regretfully. "Two sisters, and both involved in so many of the same criminal activities. . ."

Jasmine squeaks as Pyra approaches her, the drugged cloth in hand. Jasmine  squirms desperately as the superhero reaches her, grabbing her with one gloved hand (even through the glove, Jasmine can feel the heat), and slapping the chrloroform-soaked cloth over her mouth and nose. "Mhmmph!" Jasmine moans, but a shiver runs through her bound body, sending her swaying slowly over the edge. She utters a muffled cry, her eyes rolling back in her head, her trim body flailing as the drug races through her system. Jasmine's limp body shudders as the still-buzzing vibrator works at her, and she utters a shrill scream as she cums, bucking and squirming as pleasure and drug rock her body, then all goes dark, her last sensation the smell of chloroform and the feel of ecstasy.

"Well, well,"

 

Catwoman freezes at the utterance of those two simple words, then whirls about to see Batgirl standing behind her, arms folded, short red hair stirring fitfully in the fast breeze this high up. "Really, Catwoman?" she asks critically. "You thought you could break in here?"

 

"Well, can't blame a kitty for trying," Catwoman says witha wicked grin.

 

"Actually, I can." Batgirl lunges at her with a fist.

 

Catwoman dodges to the side, barely evading the costumed crusader's strike, then her own hand flashes up, a crumpled cloth in her hand. She clamps it over Batgirl's mouth and nose. "Mhmm!" Batgirl moans, her eyes wide with alarm as Catwoman wraps her other hand around Batgirl's head to hold the cloth pressed in place.

 

"Go on, little mouse!" Catwoman says gloatingly. "Go on, breath deep. . ."

 

The two are pressed close together, their tight costumes rubbing over each other, their breasts brushing against each other as Batgirl squirms in Catwoman's grip.

 

"Go on. . ." Catwoman says, smiling wickedly.

 

With one deft move, Batgirl, knocks Catwoman's cloth away and slithers out of her grip, their hot bodies rubbing close as she puts Catwoman in her own grip, "I got you!" she says with a grin.

 

"Umph!" Catwoman grunts, wriggling against her; in moments, they are both hot and panting, their cheeks flushed and pink.

 

Batgirl can feel her nipples hardening under the constant stimulation, her breath comes hard, her pulse pounding hard in her ears, but not only form the fight. Catwoman, her hot body rubbing against the teen's tight form, pants, her tongue lolling out, caught helpless in her body's reaction to 

 

Their eyes meet for an instant, and both can see the same thing in the other's eyes. Impulsively, Batgirl leans forward the few inches separating them, and presses her lips to Catwoman's.

 

"Mhmm!" Catwoman moans in surprise, her eyes wide. Then her eye half-close. "Mhmmm. . ." she moans, responding to the kiss, rubbing her slinky body against Batgirl's, not to escape, but pressing close, purring softly. Her clawed hands paw at Batgirl's costume, pulling open her front, baring her small pert breasts.

 

"Mhmmm. . ." Batgirl moans, her lips still pressed to Catwoman's; she grabs at the zipper of Catwoman's costume where it ends between her thighs, and pulls it up.

 

They pull each other out of their costumes and press close, naked skin flushed with heat despite the cold air rushing over them as they perch on the narrow ledge.

 

Catwoman breaks off the kiss and pushes Batgirl away, but only to lower herself down to place her lips to Batgirl's soft skin in the cleft between her breasts.

 

Batgirl throws her head back, her eyes closed, moaning softly as Catwoman lowers herself further, laying a trail of kisses down Batgirl's flat belly to down between her tight thighs. "Oh!" she gasps out loud as Catwoman presses her lips to Batgirl's lower lips, sucking gently then pulling away.

 

Catwoman presses her lips close again, parting her lips to slide her tongue through into Batgirl's slit.

 

"Ah!" Batgirl cries out, shivering as sparks fly in her belly, heat rising like pleasure.

 

Catwoman runs her agile feline tongue through Batgirl's slit, playing delightedly with her, running her tongue over her clit, sucking and nibbling at her sensitive flesh to make her squirm and cry out; Catwoman clutches at Batgirl as she cums, holding her close as she shudders and screams, her cry echoing down the many stories below them.

 

Still gasping for breath, Batgirl kisses Catwoman on the lips, and tastes her own juices on the thief's tongue. She works her way down Catwoman's body, until she is between Catwoman's pale thighs, the naked criminal pussy's naked pussy right before her. She presses toward her, pressing her soft lips against the soft lips before her.

 

Catwoman trembles as Batgirl's tongue slides into her, running up her narrow slit. "Nnnnnn. . ." she moans through gritted teeth, her fingers clawing reflexively at thin air. Catwoman's naked breasts heave, her breath coming faster as her hips buck, forcing her pussy against Batgirl's lips. "Oh, me-yow!" she yowls, tossing her head, her shrill cry ringing out as Batgirl's tongue slides over her clit.

 

A thin sheen of sweat stands out on Catwoman's naked skin, shining in the dim city light; she grabs Batgirl's head by her hair, winding her claws through the thick red curls, forcing Batgirl's lips harder against her pussy. "Oh, fuck me!" the feline felon cries out, and Batgirl obliges, tearing as scream of pleasure from her lips as her lower lips stream forth with pleasure.

 

After some time, the two disentangle themselves form each other.

 

"Well, that was nice," Catwoman says, turning away. "See you later, little mouse!"

 

"Wait!" Batgirl snaps. "You're not getting away like that!"

 

"Right!" Catwoman snickers. "Like you're gonna stop m-MMHMPH!"

 

Grinning, Batgirl grabs Catwoman from behind, clamping the dropped rag over her mouth and nose "Shhhh," Batgirl whispers in her ear as the sickly-sweet smell of the drug slips through her nostrils. "Take a breath, pussycat!"

 

"Mhmm!" Catwoman moans helplessly, her naked skin trembling with tension. But she can't stop herself; she draws a deep breath, and her eyes roll back in her head, her struggles slowing, then she goes limp in the teen heroine's arms.

 

Batgirl lowers Catwoman down, then quickly cuffs her hands behind her back. She is unaware of a dark figure watching in silence not very far away.

 

Painted lips twitch in a satisfied smile after the incredible sapphic display the two subjects had made. "Well, that was fun. Who will I do next?"

 

Part 1

"This place is a dump!" Raya exclaims, staring at the barn. "I don't know what my agent was thinking!"

Her agent was thinking, though Raya had no idea at the time, that though she was always good at using her body to get a better gig, the DJ at 31 is losing out to younger more willing women; this countryside party is the last thing he could get her.

Raya shakes her head in astonishment, and trudges toward the wide barn doors, lugging her equipment behind her. This rough earth venue is very different from what she has come to expect after a life of not-too-shabby pivilege.

A smaller man-sized door set in the barrn doors swings open and a man steps out, giving Raya a grin. He has large teal eyes that glint with confidence and strength in a face set with a strong chin. His fine, wavy, chestnut hair is medium-length and is worn in a practical, businesslike style. Tall, with a graceful build, he moved lightly on his feet. "Hi!" he says with a wave. "Are you Raya?"

"That's right," Raya says with an answering grin.

George," he says, holding out his hand. he takes it back, seeing her hands are full. "Here, let me helpyou with your stuff," he offers.

"Thanks," Raya says, passing him a few bags of equipment.

"Come on in," he says, lugging it ewasily toward the open door.

Raya steps into the barn and has to stop, staring around her with eyes wide in astonishment. "Wow!" she exclaims. From the barn's ramshackle appearance, she has been expecting something very different: the floor is flat and even, covered in smooth black rubber for a good surface, the walls are clean, painted black, coated with non-reflective pads for good acoustics, while a disco ball hangs from the liikewise black ceiling, reflecting stray beams of sunlight over the lar ge dance floor.

"Not what you expected, huh?" George says with a grin.

"Nope!" Raya says. "I thought this was just gonna be a hick party!"

Again, George chuckles. "Don't let appearance fool you; the folks here like their privacy! Come on," he says, waving her after him. "The stage is over here."

#

It doesn't take long for raya to set up her gear, with George helping; by then, the long sliver of light thrown in through the open door is fading, and cars are pulling up into the yard outside.

Pale indirect lights shine down, giving the whole room an unearthly glow, while flickering lights and the whirling disco ball cast 

Raya dressed in a pretty short black dress, high in the thigh and low in the collar, and high black boots. A great outfit to party in, which is what she likes to do, though she probably won't have a chance to today; she has perky breasts, wide hips and a full ass, not too thin, not too tall, not too short, with long dark hair and short bangs framing her round face, she has never been described as anything but 'fine.'

She tends to the music as the first of the guests come in, standing center stage at the head of the room, with a brilliant view of the whole room. It doesn't occur to her at the time, but it is true that she is also in view of the whole room.

"All set?" George asks her softly.

Raya glances at him, surprised; he has changed into black, a black long-sleeved shirt, black pants, tall black boots. "Uh- yes," she says quickly, trying to cover for the gap. "All set, I've got a playlist ready, a few standbys in case those are needed."

"Good," George says. He glances out over the room.

Raya follows his glance, and is even more shocked by the sight of the guests: some are in black, others in red, some in leather, others in gleaming latex, but all dressed provocatively: from nearly naked to covered head-to-toe in skintight suits.

She is still staring when George glances to two men   waiting ready nearby; the first Raya knows of it is when the music swells, and a pair of strong hands grab hold of her arms from behind. "Hey!" she shouts. "What are you-" she turns and sees George standing over her, a long knife gleaming in his hand. She flinches away as he stabs down; the blade slashes right through the fabric of her dress

"No!" Raya screams. "Stop! Let me go!" but all her cries and struggling does no good against the strength of the three men. Bizarrely, surreally, the music goes on playing, and the crowd watches the attack unperturbed, many still dancing to the music.

Raya struggles and cries in the surreal scene as George and his two helpers strip away her dress and her lacy black panties and bra beneath. The two men grab her arm and bend them, forcing her hands to her shoulders and holding them there as George produces a large roll of black electrical tape.

"No- don't!" Raya cries out as George grabs her arm. "Stop!" But he ignores her, and wraps the tape around her bent arm just above her elbow; while his assistant holds her arm still, George wraps the tape around her arm, around and up to her shoulder.

In a moment, George has done the same to her other arm. Crying for help, Raya is forced to her knees by his assistants. Kneeling on the floor, she is helpless to prevent George from wrapping her legs likewise. The assistants lift her rear, pressing down on her shoulders. Raya finds herself 'standing' on her elbows and knees like a four-legged animal.

Standing before her, George grabs her jaw, squeezing her cheeks to force it open. Raya rolls her eyes with fear as he produces a ring gag and forces it into her open mouth behind her teeth. He buckles it tightly behind her head.

Raya whimpers through her forced-open mouth, staring pleadingly up at him.

Smiling, George stands to his feet and his assistants turn aside from Raya, and all three bow to their audience as the first song comes to an end; the guests applaud as if for a wonderful show.

Part 2

Raya turns her head wildly, crying out through her ring gag. How could they be doing this?! What do they want from her?! As the second song begins, feet clatter on the stage behind her. She tries to turn to see what is happening, but George crouches beside her, a leash and collar in his hand, both of gleaming black latex.

"Ungh!" Raya grunts, struggling to speak, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes.

He holds her gently with one hand, wrapping the collar around her bare neck. "Shh," he says softly. "No one's gonna hurt you, girl." He tightens the collar about her neck, securing it, but not so tight that it hurts. He gently caresses her chin, staring reassuringly into her eyes. "I promise."

George stands to his feet, holding the leash firmly in his hand. Raya whimpers as feet clatter behind her. She whimpers, feeling very vulnerable, feeling how her naked ass is raised and vulnerable behind her.

Suddenly something warm and soft leaps on her from behind, and Raya squirms in her bonds, crying out in surprise and fear; she feels the fur of her attacker, feels its hot breath, and realizes that it's a dog.

A dog? she thinks worriedly. Why would they bring a dog into stage with her.

She stiffens, her eyes wide as she feels something unmistakable press into her from behind. She cries out, struggling against the heavy weight, trying to throw the animal off of her, but the dog presses its penis into her, sliding it between her thighs, pushing it into pussy. Squealing helplessly, Raya shudders as it pumps into her, literally fucking her doggy-style.

"NNNNN!" Raya screams as the dog fucks her, pumping in and out of her pussy, its hot breath brushing her naked skin, its lusty panting filling her ears. "NNNN!"

Then it stiffens and cums: Raya sobs as its hot cum spurts inside of her, filling her with hot semen and humiliation.

The dog hops off of her, panting happily, and is quickly led away to a chorus of cheers and applause from the guests.

George crounches beside her once more, staring at her happily. "Good girl!" George says, lovingly caressing  her chin. "Good girl," he says again, smiling into her tear-streaked face. he stands up to his feet as his assistants wheel in a sort of low platform with three steps leading up to it. "Come, girl!" he says, tugging on her leash.

Tears dripping to the stage with every step, she follows obediently where he leads. Clumsily, Raya climbs up the steps to a small platform, and turns around, at George's direction to stand on her four 'legs' with the naked ass raised high as if for inspection.

Something stirs behind her, and Raya stiffens, moaning in fear, wondering what is next: something hammers on the stage, and she shudders, squeezing her eyes shut in terror as she recognizes the sounds of hooves: a ripple of excitement runs through the audience as a horse walks up to her, a tall black stallion, its huge cock already growing hard as it is guided over her, mounting her from behind.

Raya screams through her gag as the horse forces itself into her from behind; where the dog fit her easily, the horse fills her until she feels like she will explode. Grunting lustily, the stallion begins to fuck her, thruating into her so hard her small body is almost forced off the platform. Raya cries out in fear as she almost tumbles head-first over the edge, but George grabs hold of her and holds her steady. "Easy, girl!" he says, caressing her head as the horse plunges into her again. "I'll take care of you!"

Somehow, these words penetrate the haze of pain and terror filling her mind. Raya moans helplessly as the horse pluinges into her once more, almost splitting her from the inside. She cries out in pain, and George gently brushes her naked skin. Helpless, she can't help but find comfort there.

The horse fucks her on: whimpering and crying, her tear-streaked eyes turn vague and vacant, her mind overwhelmed by the events, sensations, her old life, memories rapidly dropping away under the terrible assault.

Then with the suddenness of a light switch, she feels it: the pleasure rising in her, from her pussy the horse fills to bursting. it forces itself deeper and deeper into her, rubbing over her clit with every monstrous thrust, raising a fire of pleasure in her. She couldn't feel it before through the pain, the haze of shame from her old life, but in desperation Raya throws it away, surrendering to the rising pleasure, gasping and moaning, wanting only to survive. Her cries change, growing higher and higher as she rises on pleasure, screaming as she comes, shuddering under the stallion's assault and in George's arms.

The horse grunts and shudders as it come a moment later, flooding her pussy with its cum, white fluid spurting out and running down her back legs. It shakes its head, sending its mane flying as it pulls itself free, high-stepping amidst the applause as it is led off the stage once more.

Raya, lost in a haze of pleasure, barely acknowledges as George tugs on her leash. "Come on!" he says, pulling on her collar. "Come on, good girl!"

That gets to her. Moaning through her gag, she follows his voice, stumbling down the platform's steps and following at his heel as George walks to the former Deejay's microphone and grabs it up. "And now, ladies and gentlemen," he announces. "Let the auction begin!"

As the guests cheer naked slaves, bound and gagged, are led out onto the stage, and Raya sits beside her owner, happily nuzzling his leg.

Second story of the infamous 'Emily' Series: available in full on Amazon here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FSCMC7S2

My first bondage story, from a long time ago, now reposted here for your delight!

I suppose you want to know how this all began, am I right? Well, you would not even recognize me, not as I am, I mean.

#

Hight Adrian the Bold, I was a trusting magic knight, I was very handsome, muscular, with round eyes the color of beryl and medium-length, wavy, silky, black hair worn in a handsome style. On that day I wore a kilt and tunic in black and brown in roughly even proportions. I also carried then, my sword: it had a keen blade, the guard resembling a mouth with opals for fangs, the blade extending from it like a tongue: I had looted it from the temple of the Mad Mullah, along with his nubile virgin daughters, though I had not kept them for very long, nor had they kept their virginity for very long. Wonderful ladies, we kept in touch.



On that day, I crept into and through the Horror Halls, the deep caverns miles beneath the dark Haunted Hills through which I had hacked my way, slaughtering monsters and bandits by the score. I was there seeking the sorcerer Valorious, he who had kidnapped the magical princess Eilonwy and held her now for ransom, ready to sacrifice her to his dark fiendish masters should her father, King Hendriks, refuse to pay for her life.



The Horror Halls lived up to their name: dark and stinking, with no food or water fit to drink; I fought my way through scores of the monsters that dwelt there and bands of Valorious’ minions. Finally, after many days of travel, wandering and adventuring, killing and slaying, I reached the dark heart of Valorious’ realm and battled my way to his throne room.



It was a wide dark cavern, hacked out from the bedrock of the mountains, dimly lit by magical flames that consumed neither air nor fuel. In the shadows that skirted the wide chamber lurked Rippers From The Far Sphere, horrid little monsters, creatures from a place far beyond our world, whom the sorcerer Valorious had summoned here to serve him.



The entire chamber centered upon a large raised dais on which there squatted a large stone throne, in which was seated a man.



This was the sorcerer Valorious: he had wide vermillion eyes and shoulder-length, amber hair which artistically framed his face. He was very athletic and energetic. He had long-fingered elegant hands that he raised threateningly on seeing me. “So!” he cried out. “You seek to rescue the princess Eilonwy?! Well you cannot have her! She belongs to me!” He waved to his minions, and they jumped to pull wide a pair of dark curtains, allowing light to shine in upon a dark cavern.



Within was the princess Eilonwy, chained to a great stone. That magical girl's round eyes were the color of ripe plums, but aloof, as if she were not seeing the world about her. Her neck-length, wavy, fine, black hair was worn in an uncomplicated style, tumbling down her shoulders and across her back, and over her bare chest, brushing against her bare pert round breasts. She was a little plump, but perfectly formed with all the delightful curves a real man craves. She had time powers that come from a series of rings, but those were stripped from her, along with most of her violet and black costume; only rags remained, with served only to frame her truly naked body, sweating with fear, her pale skin glistening in the dim light.



She pulled weakly at her chains, moaning softly in terror: she was chained to the great stone on a tiny rocky island in the middle of a deep black pond. Her nipples were erect in the cold air and as I watched, long thin tentacles rose up out from the water and wove closer and closer to her.



I glanced back to the sorcerer; he had donned his infamous tools, his gauntlets of Magic and Simplicity, and raised his hands again. “You will now join her!” he shouted, coruscating arcs of light flashing between his fingers.



I drew my sword and raised it, assuming a guard position. “Come and try,” I said with a confident smile, instinctively calling forth my cosmic powers.



“I do not ‘try!’” he retorted. “I do!” he pointed his fingers at me and spoke words that echoed across the wide dark chamber.



A wave of bright energy swept out from his hands and rolled toward me: I set myself and held my blade en garde, trusting to my blade’s power and my own abilities to protect me from whatever destruction he had called forth upon me.



Then the wave broached like the surf upon a sea wall and poured over and around me: I felt a strange tingling from its power, but no harm came to me of it. “Ha!” I laughed at Valorious once his power had receded. “If you sought to slay me, villain, then you are going about it the wrong way.”



“Ha ha ha!” Valorious laughed himself. “’If’ I meant to slay you? You fool! You have no idea with whom you are troubling! ‘If’ I meant to slay you, you would be slain! No, I have a far more delicious fate in store for you!”



I would have wondered what he meant by that, but the tingling had not receded with the wave, but instead began to mount, growing stronger and stronger: it felt strange, but not entirely unpleasant. . . It felt almost like an itch, but also as if I were a little drunk.



I stumbled, suddenly lightheaded. “What’s happening to me?” I mumbled, trying to keep my balance.



“Ha, ha ha ha!” Valorious laughed triumphantly.



I doubled over with a cry, clutching at my chest which began to swell, thrusting out two mounds of soft, sensitive flesh. I gasped as my new breasts swung full and round. “What is this?!” I cried; I gasped again when I heard my own voice. It was high, feminine. A sudden itching made me clutch at my head and I felt my hair growing, it tumbled down my back in an ebon wave, glistening in the dim light like oil.



I felt my hips and shoulder change and move, becoming different; my waist shrank and my ass stuck out, then a most peculiar feeling between my legs made me clutch at my manhood, only to feel my womanhood.



“Ha, ha ha ha!” Valorious laughed again. “I have done it!”



“This won’t stop me, you mad sorcerer!” I snapped, raising my sword. “I can still -oh!” I exclaimed as my sword overbalanced, almost dropping from my hand; I stumbled back, unsure and off-balance in my new body.



“Get her!” Valorious commanded, leveling an index finger at me, and with a massed joyful, malicious, shout, all his Rippers descended upon me. I fought and struggled, but I lost a great deal of my strength and they overwhelmed me. They tore my sword from my hand, then ripped at my clothes, grabbing my arms and legs two, three, four of them at a time: I was immobilized and helpless in moments.



They dragged me down to the floor, then pulled me over onto my back and hauled my arms and legs as wide as they would go; I kicked and fought, but to no avail. One even wrapped its fingers through my long hair: it chuckled evilly as it jerked on my hair, making me cry out in pain.



Valorious came and stood over me, between my pinioned legs, smiling evilly, triumphantly, and -most worryingly- lustfully. “Well, look at you now,” he said, a glint shining in his eyes. “Helpless, and in my power.”



I was starting to feel a little nervous. “I will get you, you fiend!” I snarled. “And when I do-”



“Tear off her clothes,” Valorious said casually.



It took a moment for his words to sink in, then I screamed and renewed my struggles to escape, but those hell-spawned Rippers From The Far Sphere held me down and tore my tunic to shreds; I growled, then whimpered as my sensitive breasts were exposed to the cold air and their lewd stares; the Rippers laughed among themselves in their foul language while a few closer ones pinched and kneaded my breasts, making my growl disappear and my whimpers redouble.



That done, still other Rippers tore my kilt from me, baring my hips and hairless, virgin pussy. I squirmed, moaning helplessly, but the Rippers laughed, seeing my breasts jump and wiggle. Tears slipped from my eyes and down my cheeks: a storm of new sensations was rocking over me. The cold air brushing across my pussy sent a chill shiver through me mingled with a thrill of pleasure; the Rippers pinched and squeezed my breasts; the pinching hurt, I felt humiliated, but somehow it only aroused me: my breasts felt full and erect, my nipples jutted forth. I was helpless and humiliated and fearful, but all this only seemed to increase my arousal; a flush crept across my bare skin.



The mad Valorious watched me, i’faith, he knew all this. “Take her to the altar,” he ordered.



The Rippers lifted me and carried me away, still pinching and poking my naked body, still laughing viciously. “No!” I shouted, squirming in their grip. “Let me go!”



But they carried me to a narrow pyramidal stone altar facing into the cavern where the princess Eilonwy was prisoned: the Rippers forced me face-down upon the altar, my ass and legs dangling off the and, facing toward the princess. My breath caught in my throat as I saw a huge, monstrous, creature, coated in slime and bristling with tentacles rise up out from the water to tower over the princess Eilonwy.



I was so caught up in the creature’s slow, menacing approach, slowly, gently at first wrapping its tentacles about her despite her chained struggles and helpless cries, that I did not at first notice that the Rippers had tied my hands together and to the altar, holding me face-down upon it, while they spread my legs wide and bound my bare feet to the bottom corners of the altar.



With a start, I realized how wide and open I was, helpless and open to anyone (I had ravished the princess Glynda on an altar much like this, but only after rescuing her from the Cursed Brotherhood of Null) I twisted about as far as my bonds allowed, glancing across my shoulder, and saw Valorious step up to my bound ass; he pulled open his trousers and let them drop, revealing his large, half-erect manhood pointed straight for me!



“No! No, stop!“ I screamed, tugging at my bonds, but to no avail.



“Yes!” Valorious laughed. “Squirm, my pretty! There is no escape; you will only make it more enjoyable for me!” He touched my ass and I went terribly cold: for the first time, I was really, truly terrified of him.



“Please,” I begged, shaking my head desperately. “Please, don’t-”



He grabbed my hips with both hands and forced his cock into the folds of my brand new pussy.



I heard the princess Eilonwy scream as the terrible creature of the pond had its way with her; she who I had come to rescue was now witness to my own terrible fate. “No!” I cried. The mad sorcerer laughed, forcing his cock in and out, pumping deeper and deeper into me; against my will, I felt myself growing wet, making his passage easier and easier: I moaned helplessly, twisting in my bonds, trying to escape his foul, diseased touch, but helpless to escape and helpless to resist the feelings he was forcing upon my new body.



“Oh, please- oh, please!” I gasped as he fucked me, though for him to stop or go on, even I did not know by then: a terrific heat was growing in my loins where he fucked me, growing, flowing through my body and filling my mind so I didn’t know what I wanted any more, I could only beg and plead as thoughts of escape were forced from my mind until I would do anything for Valorious that he might stoke that flame that was overwhelming me.



He grunted with every stroke as he drove still deeper into my body. I moaned, wiggling around the thick pole of his stiff cock that filled me almost to bursting. Then he stiffened; he grabbed my long hair and pulled, making me cry out helplessly in pain, then he thrust himself in the deepest yet and came, pouring his hot seed deep into my womb.



Then I lost it: the fire burning through me became an inferno, raging through my ravaged body: with his hot cum still streaming into me I came, shuddering and screaming as raw pleasure overwhelming any vestige of thought I had left.



“Ho! You’re good!” I faintly heard the sorcerer Valorious say. He gave my ass a ringing slap I barely felt through the haze. “I should keep you,” he went on. “I need a good whore, but then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of killing you,” he paused. “Oh, well. There are always more whores I can enslave!” He cut me loose from the altar, then threw me to the floor; his wicked laughter rang in my ears as I lost consciousness and darkness overcame me.

#

I came to slowly, upon a cold stone floor. I tried to move, then stopped with a moan; a terrible ache pounded in my head and in my pussy, my whole body felt wrung out, as if I had been used terribly hard. In a moment I remembered that I had been.



With another pained groan I pushed myself up and glanced around: I sat in the middle of a bare cell built of flat black granite blocks. A narrow wooden door with iron straps and a narrow barred grill was the only entrance and in a corner of the cell was a pile of moldy straw. Otherwise, the room was bare empty stone.



No, wait: there was something. A very peculiar adornment in a dungeon cell: a tall mirror upon the wall. Curious, I rose unsteadily to my feet; once I was sure of my balance, I walked over to it, stood before it and looked, and gaped at what I saw:



I was tall and muscular, though not as tall or muscular as I was before, with a head of long black hair tumbling across my shoulders and down my back like a fall of liquid ebony. I had round pert breasts that stood forth proudly from my chest, a flat stomach, wide hips, long lean legs, and a bare hairless pussy.



I laid my hands upon my new breasts, feeling them, gently rubbing my soft sensitive flesh; I felt peculiar, dreamlike, hardly able to believe what I saw, but the thrill of pleasure that ran through me as I pinched my erect nipples dispelled any doubt I had.



I slipped my left hand down between my legs shivering slightly as my fingers ghosted across my bare pussy. My eyes narrowed as I stared at myself in the mirror; I felt a hot stirring need welling up in me, a fiery  turbulent need.



I whirled about and strode to the door. “Hello?” I called, pounding on it.



A Ripper From The Far Sphere appeared in the barred grill and glared at me. “What do you want?” he demanded.



My soft red lips parted and I pressed myself up against the bars, “I need. . .” I said huskily, staring pleadingly at him. “I need. . .”



“Need what?” he asked.



“I. . . need. . . you,” I said, then slowly backed away from the door, right hand pinching and kneading my right breast, my left hand caressing my pussy. “I never- knew what desire was,” I said breathily. “But now. . .” I slowly dropped to my knees, staring pleadingly up at him. “I need something. . . inside of me. . . please. . .” I gasped.



He unlocked the door and swung it open then stepped into the cell, an eager light glinting in his eyes. “



“Oh, yes!” I groaned. “After the sorcerer Valorious, I- I never thought that it could be so-” I stopped, staring longingly at his crotch. “Just please let me- just take me; take me! Fuck me! Use me, please!”



With an eager smile he stepped forward, reaching for his belt, then I jumped up, fist-first, and punched him in the head: the Ripper was lifted off his feet and fell back against the wall: I grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed his head against the wall several times: when I let him go, he collapsed to lie unmoving on the floor.



He had a dirty scimitar sheathed at his side; I picked it up and held it in my hand, testing the balance: it would do.



I looked down at him, lying unconscious. “Pffft. Dumbass,” I said, and marched out.

#

I slipped through the darkened caverns, seeking my way by instinct; I had no conscious idea where I was, where I had to go, or what was happening, but I felt instinctively that time was running out: if I was to defeat the mad sorcerer Valorious and rescue the princess Eilonwy, I would have to move fast.



Luck was with me: I found my way into a stretch of corridor I had traversed on my way to Valorious’ throne room: turning down the familiar corridor, I strode onward to a final confrontation with the evil mad sorcerer Valorious.



Again.



I burst into the throne room a second time to find little changed: still the same wide dark cavern, hacked out from the bedrock of the mountains, the same dimly light spread by magical flames; still the same Rippers From The Far Sphere.



And still the same sorcerer Valorious: he stood beside the dark altar where he deflowered me, towering over the princess Eilonwy who was tied upon it; she pulled helplessly at her bonds. “Save me!” she cried.



Mad Valorious whirled to face me, a dark long-bladed dagger held in his long-fingered elegant hands. “So!” he hissed. “You have come to try again? You think you stand a chance against me?” he laughed. “Well, think again! For I am invoking the Terrifying Communion of Darkness!” he howled, laughing maniacally. “With all the powers of darkness as mine to command, I will rule the world! Ha, ha ha ha, ha-ha! HA ha ha ha, ha ha!”



A cold wind blew up from nowhere and whirled about the cave, whipping at exposed skin, tearing at clothes and hair; in the center of this whirlwind, Valorious turned back to the altar and raised his dagger: Eilonwy twisted and squirmed, her pale body almost glowing in the darkness.



The wind whipped at my bare skin and whirled my long hair about like a thousand lashes. Whimpering slightly at the punishment this gave my back and breasts, I jumped forward and kicked Valorious in the chest: he fell backward with a cry: the Rippers From The Far Sphere moved to grab me, but before they could, I drew back with the scimitar and with one swipe cut through the thongs binding the princess Eilonwy to the dark altar.



I swung around and slashed the scimitar in a flat arc, cutting down a half-a-dozen of the Rippers From The Far Sphere; the rest of the cowardly creatures stumbled back away from the sharp steel.



I reached down and grabbed the princess Eilonwy by the hand. “Come on!” I shouted. The Rippers From The Far Sphere tumbled out of our way as we ran for the door, but at Valorious’ barked “Get them!” they closed in again on our heels.



We ran out the door, then the whole mountain shook, throwing us off our feet to our knees; a huge chunk of rock fell from the ceiling to land right behind us



“Noooooo!” Valorious screamed behind us as his magic ran out of control, consuming him, his minions and his dark magical lair; the Princess Eilonwy and I exchanged a glance, then we jumped to our feet and took off running again.



We raced through the Haunted Halls, barely dodging flying rock shards and downfalls as the entire mountain came tumbling down around us.



Then we found the entrance: we raced out into the warm sunlight just as it exploded, sending shards of rock flying everywhere; I forced the princess to the ground and covered her body with mine.



Once I was sure it was over, I slowly raised myself off the princess. “Are you all right?” I asked. She nodded, panting for breath, not quite meeting my eyes. For the first time, I was aware of how very warm her flesh was, how soft her skin felt, pressed against mine. She glanced at me, a hooded nervous look in her eyes, but also a glint of. . . curiousity.



“Perhaps we should stay here a while,” she said. “To rest.”



“Yes,” I agreed. “To. . . rest.”



We sat beside each other, my naked hip brushing hers, the warm sun gently warming our bare skin. “After what you have experienced,” I said, “you will need some care.”



“Yes,” she agreed, glancing at me. “You as well. Care. Tender loving care.”



Slowly, I wrapped my arm across her shoulders.



She slipped a hand over my bare arm, glancing a little nervously up at me.



I gently rubbed my other hand down her side to her bare hip; she shivered softly, and I slipped my hand between her legs.



Her lips parted, with a silent gasp, then she leaned over and put her lips to mine.



We laid down together in the soft grass and. . . cared for each other.