First aside:
Dear Reader, somewhere there is a magical realm populated by an immortal race, the Wom. When they grow tired of life, they sleep for years where they dream of an existence in a world very much like our own, a life-dream. In those dreams they fight and discover and struggle and love and fret about the day that the dream ends.
<>--+-
“You’ll need to take off all your clothes,” the attendant said.
“What?”
“Your clothes. You have to be naked if you want an audience with the Sorceress of Belmar.”
Beryl sighed and looked down at her cloak and leggings and boots.
“It’s not so much a precaution for the Sorceress’ safety, but for yours,” the attendant explained.
Reluctantly, Beryl began to remove her clothes, placing them in a box that the attendant provided. She pulled off her hooded cloak and her soft soled leather boots. She pushed her pants to the floor. She paused for a moment, clad only in a chemise and a brief panty, sighing once again.
The attendant stood waiting patiently.
Beryl pulled the chemise over her head and stepped out of her panties, finally standing up tall again.
“Your jewelry as well,” the attendant said, emotionlessly pointing at the heavy metal cuff wrapped around Beryl’s left wrist.
“It’s locked on,” she said, holding it up. A thin chain with a small key dangled from a narrow ring on one side of the cuff.
“Is that not the key?” the attendant asked.
“No. That is the key to my lover’s cuff,” Beryl said, holding her arm for the attendant’s inspection. The attendant tried to shift the cuff on Beryl’s arm, but it was tight and form fitting. The lock was quite secure.
“Okay. But also, you’ll need to wear these. They will not come off until you leave the Sorceress’s presence.” The attendant was holding two clips in the palm of her hand made of gold metal, each with a purple jewel.
“Where do they go… Hey!” Beryl squeaked. The attendant had grabbed her right breast gently, but firmly and applied one of the clips to the nub of her nipple. “Owww!” The clamping part of the clip was a small cylinder that slipped around the nipple. When the attendant released her grip the cylinder tightly constricted the captured flesh. Soon, and with another quiet exclamation of discomfort, Beryl’s left nipple was equally adorned.
“Why…” Beryl began to ask.
“These are the conditions,” the attendant said, and she bent to place a sturdy lid on the box that contained Beryl’s clothes.
“Oh, wait!” Beryl said as she cupped her left breast. “I need the parchment from the pocket of the cloak!”
<>--+-
Beryl braced herself as the large doors to the Altar of the Sorceress of Belmar opened before her.
“The Sorceress will see you now,” the attendant said. “Proceed towards the wall of flames.”
Beryl nodded and walked into the cavernous room, the heavy doors slowly sealing behind her. The space was dark, lit only by burning torches set in large columns equally spaced along the approach towards a wall of purple flames reaching perhaps ten meters high or more.
Looking up, the columns rose into the darkness disappearing long before reaching the ceiling. Beryl wrapped her arms around her body and set off down the length of the hollow. There was a breeze that fluctuated between warm and cool that seemed to lick at her naked flesh. Still she felt goosebumps ripple across her torso and she pressed the parchment to her chest protectively. Her bare feet whispered along the stone floor, answered only by the fluttering of the flames. With every step, it felt like the weight of the clamps amplified the resultant movement of her breasts. Oddly, her nipples felt like they were being suckled in a distracting manner.
Though only a couple of minutes passed, the walk seemed to take forever.
She could feel the heat from the wall of purple flames as she drew closer to the far end of the hall. She was relieved when the flames slowly lowered, revealing a deep alcove with a throne set high on a stone plinth.
Beryl stopped well short of the meters-wide metal grate in the floor. Heat radiated from the flames which still crackled somewhere beneath. She looked up to the throne upon which sat a woman dressed in regal robes and jewelry.
Beryl knelt on one knee and bowed her head. “Thank you for this audience, Sorceress.”
“Stand,” the sorceress said calmly. “Let us talk as two women.”
Beryl stood and looked around. She felt so small and exposed, and too, the sorceress was renowned for great feats of magic. The room’s arrangement screamed that a particular power dynamic was at play. They were definitely NOT going to be interacting like two friends at a bar. Beryl cleared her throat and looked up to the sorceress sitting above her.
“I… My…” Beryl had thought of what she was going to say, but the moment that she looked into the sorceress’s eyes, which seemed to sparkle a purple color similar in hue to the flames, her mind went completely blank. “Someone stole my slave and I have traced her to your… uh… I mean…”
“I’m sorry,” the sorceress said with no malice. “I purchase all my slaves on the markets. I have no need to steal a slave.”
“What I mean is that someone stole my slave. We’re… I’m from the Realm of Harlow. She… the slave… was stolen and brought here and sold in the local markets, probably about four months ago,” Beryl explained.
“Well, it sounds as though your grievance is with the thief,” the sorceress said.
“Oh! I have already tracked her down,” Beryl explained.
“Well, Harlow has a good justice system. You should receive a healthy recompense. Enough to afford an upgrade,” the sorceress said.
“But… but…” Beryl took a slight step forward, before remembering the metal grate and the purple glow from below. “This slave was special to me. Her name is Willow…”
“We generally assign new names to slaves if there is a need to call them anything at all,” the sorceress said. “But, I will ask…” She reached to the side of the throne and pulled on a velvet rope. Somewhere beyond the sorceress, Beryl heard a bell ring. She swore she felt a buzzing at her nipples as the bell rang.
Suddenly, Beryl remembered the parchment that, thus far, she had pressed against her naked breasts. “I’ve got a notice,” Beryl explained, unfolding the parchment, “with Queen Isabel’s seal which has been extremely helpful…”
A woman came sprinting into the alcove from a hidden entryway. She wore only a short pelvic curtain held in place by a narrow tie. She ran with her arms behind her back - each hand holding the opposite elbow. Luckily for her, she had smaller breasts which only jiggled slightly, unsupported as they were, as she made her way up to the throne. The sorceress leant over and whispered to the runner, who nodded, then turned and sprinted back out of the alcove.
“My attendant will go and inquire about this slave named Willow,” the sorceress said.
“Thank you!” Beryl replied. “You don’t…”
“What were you saying about Queen Isabel?” the sorceress asked.
“Oh! I have this notice which has allowed me to…”
“Hold it out,” the sorceress said.
Beryl looked down through the metal grate at the purple glow below.
“Come now!” the sorceress said, a little more loudly.
“Sorry… just…” Beryl slowly held the parchment out. Almost immediately, the parchment slipped through her fingers despite her firm grip. It sailed over the grate and into the sorceress’ hand. The sorceress examined the seal and opened the parchment, taking time to review the text.
“Queen Isabel speaks highly of you…,” the sorceress said as she continued to read.
“That’s good to hear,” Beryl replied. “I’m not familiar with the script that she used, so I wasn’t sure exactly what she wrote. Ooo!” She swore that she felt fingers pinch both of her nipples simultaneously. She reached up and pressed her bejeweled nipples in her palms.
The sprinter came back into the alcove and whispered to the sorceress. They seemed to share a lengthy discourse, but Beryl could not hear anything that was said. Finally, the sorceress sat up and the sprinter knelt on the ground beside the throne, her eyes fixed on the floor just in front of her.
“No,” the sorceress said.
“Uh… I’m not sure I understand…” Beryl said.
“No. I will not relinquish the slave who was once called Willow. She has been co-opted into my current project. I will speak succinctly. She can not be extracted from her current role.”
“But…” Beryl said, growing angry, despite her surroundings.Her hands dropping from her breasts and forming fists. “But… we are lovers. I love her.”
“I have already told you. She cannot be extracted from her current situation,” the sorceress said evenly and patiently. “I’m sorry that your lover was stolen from you. But, she is no longer yours.”
“What is she…” Beryl had to concentrate to keep from becoming flustered. She took a deep breath which seemed to cause another buzz to erupt from her nipples. “Perhaps, I can reclaim her after your project is complete? Or maybe I can perform some task…”
“She is not simply temporarily engaged. She is utterly enmeshed in my current project. She is installed.”
“N… No! That is not… Oww!” Beryl grabbed her nipples which felt like they just been briefly pinched with some degree of force. “What is doing that!?”
“I do not understand what you are saying,” the sorceress said. “Please speak clearly.”
Beryl grunted in exasperation, but quickly collected herself. She knew that she could not allow herself to become emotional. “I believe that the notice that Queen Isabel sent pleads for any possible help that may be required to correct the wrong that has been done to me and my slave.”
The sorceress frowned and flapped the parchment around a bit, looking down at the text once more. She said something to the runner kneeling by her throne. The runner jumped up and ran off once again, disappearing behind the throne.
“I believe that my Queen’s Realm of Harlow and your beloved Realm of Belmar have enjoyed many years of peace and cooperation…” Beryl started.
“Are you suggesting that a single inconsequential slave might upset that relationship?” the sorceress asked, leaning a bit more forward.
“Oh! No! Definitely not, Sorceress!” Beryl said. “I just meant that… Mmmmm!” Beryl raised her hand to her left breast. The clip had begun vibrating and the stimulation seemed to splash forth through her flesh like a wave, deep into her sex. “Mmm-excuse me… Umm…” She felt blood flush into her labia, her lower lips blossoming… “I was… I was just hoping that with the strong lines of communication between our realms, we could find a solution to extracting my slave from your… your… project?”
The first runner sprinted back to the throne followed by a second identically adorned, indeed, perhaps even a twin of the first. The second runner carried a scepter, a gold staff with an ornate head featuring a large purple jewel. The sorceress lay the parchment to her side and took hold of the scepter.
“I’m afraid that your distress has perhaps made it difficult for you to understand my words,” the sorceress said, calmly. “So, let me speak as clearly as possible. The slave, who you refer to as Willow, has been enmeshed. That is, she has been subjected to a particular degree of bondage which can not be undone. Which shall not be undone.”
The clips at Beryl’s nipples both began to vibrate powerfully. The buzzing even began to fill her ears. She began to speak, but only let forth a croaking sound. Her mouth had gone dry. Her heart was pounding. Regardless, she was determined. “Willow and I are in love! If we could speak with her, I am certain that she is willing to undergo whatever disarticulation is necessary.”
<>--+-
Second aside:
Dear Reader, as your kind narrator, I should note that as the inhabitants of this universe are divine, they are capable of surviving severe injuries, regenerating anew with a little time and rest. For example, it is not uncommon for an amputation to be required in order to extract a slave from her bonds - a pair of keyless metal cuffs that restrain one’s arms behind one’s back, or even a tight metal ring pounded into stone pinning a slave about her midriff. The remedy is a last resort as the process is particularly unpleasant, but a solution always exists. There is always a way to undo what we mortals may view as an act with irrevocable consequences. And, after the extraction, the missing limb fully regrows once more. This is what Beryl meant when she suggested a “disarticulation”. Let us resume…
<>--+-
“I said,” the sorceress said - her voice a bit more forceful, “The slave you refer to as Willow has been subjected to a particular degree of bondage which can not be undone. And…” the sorceress paused.”Which SHALL NOT be undone.”
“But, she is my slave,” Beryl said. “Mine! Ow!” Beryl’s hands, which had momentarily been folded into fists at her sides, once again grasped her breasts. “What the fu…? Why are these clips squeezing my…? Oww!” She tried to remove the clip attached to her right nipple, but quickly stopped when an electrostatic charge popped brightly from her breast to hand. “Stop this, please!”
“We use the clips to ensure your safety,” the sorceress explained calmly. “They are designed to distract a person who is showing signs of violence or malicious intent. They will derail a person who desires to resort to violence for whatever reason.”
“But…,” Beryl took a series of deep breaths. “I am quite aware that you are a powerful sorceress. You are legendary. I have no illusion that I could do anything that would harm you. I… I’m just a humble citizen asking… begging for my slave… my lover… please, Sorceress…” A tear dropped from each of Beryl’s eyes. “Please…”
“We, each of us, are indeed” the sorceress stated, with a dramatic pause, “different. Some of us are endowed with great intelligence, some with great beauty or dexterity or strength. I,” the sorceress continued, “have an inordinate talent with magic.” She raised her scepter above her head and four balls of purple light shot up towards the darkened ceiling, popping like fireworks and fading.
After smiling briefly, the sorceress continued. “And so, it would seem, this slave, who you refer to as Willow, has a particular gift. She has a quality which makes her… different from an average citizen. She is an outlier.”
Beryl grimaced. She felt that she knew exactly what the sorceress was talking about. She and Willow had been Mistress and slave for many years. How could she not know what the sorceress would say next?
“This slave… Willow… she is particularly sensual. Her response to physical stimulation is unparalleled. Her capability for erotic arousal is… well, it is immense. Frankly, she is a powerhouse… a generator! And only I have the skill to garner her power and use it to further the magical arts. To ignore her talents would be a crime against the Goddess. It is her civic duty to be employed in a design of my making. I will make her extraordinary. And she in turn will make me extraordinary! And so, with this explanation communicated, you now understand that my answer is NO. I will not relinquish the slave who was once called Willow.”
Beryl looked around the great room for a moment, desperately trying to make up a logical argument. She thought about how Queen Isabel was swayed by Beryl’s emotional appeal for assistance when she talked about the love that Willow and Beryl shared.
<>--+-
Third aside:
Indeed, dear Reader, if you or I were lesbian, and perhaps, enticed by dominance, submission and bondage, and, in our afterlife, should we find paradise, would not that paradise include a perfect complementary soul with which to meld a perfect love? A yang for our yin. Is that not what paradise would be?
<>--+-
Beryl began telling her story: “I once brought Willow up into the high mountains of the Bowbell Peaks and I stood at the rim of Kenmare Chasm watching the sun slowly slide towards the western horizon. Willow knelt beside me, her chain leash hanging lazily between my hand and the D-ring on her beautiful slave collar. I smiled down at her, admiring her shape. She was wearing a short kilt and boots, a harness that supported and presented her sun-tanned breasts beautifully. Her hair was long and wild and fell down over her slave collar which was engraved with the words, ‘Property of Beryl’. It was a beautiful collar. I had spared no expense for it.
“I remember she turned to me, that mischievous look in her eye that I love so much. She tapped her lips with a forefinger. While Willow can sing beautifully, she does not enjoy speaking. Over the years, we developed a language of signals using hands, eyes, touch, bodily gestures… Tapping her finger to her mouth meant she wanted to communicate something to me.
“She held out her hand. There were two keys in it and I was kind of shocked. Not because she had these keys. After all, they were keys that locked and unlocked her large slave collar. We were in love. There was no need to keep her from accessing the keys after all. No. What shocked me is that she had both keys at the same time. Usually we travel with one and leave the other at home. These were the only two keys to her collar after all. The lock is unpickable. It’s important to have a spare.
“Without a second thought she flung the two keys over the edge of the cliff, into the chasm, fifteen hundred meters down. My mouth dropped open in disbelief about what she had done. I was speechless. I looked over at her. She had a wicked smile. She signed to me, ‘Now, I belong to you forever.’
“Suddenly there was some kind of calamity out over the chasm. The sound of a hundred flapping wings. Maybe the keys had disturbed their sleep. Regardless, now a flock of white birds rose from the chasm and flapped off into the sunset.”
Beryl opened her eyes and looked up to the sorceress, still perched on her throne. “Willow said she belongs to me forever. And, I say, that my heart belongs to her. I have searched long and hard for her for months now. I have subdued and punished her kidnappers. I have inspired my Queen with my tale of love. I have traveled two thousand kilometers through wild landscapes and opportunistic bandits to get here. I have walked naked into the great hall of the Sorceress of Belmar with these fu… with these clips attached to my nipples. And I would do it all again a thousand times to retrieve my slave, my lover, my Willow!”
The sorceress looked down on Beryl, seemingly contemplative. Finally, she raised her scepter and brought the butt end of the pole down hard in the center of the front edge of the plinth on which her throne rested. There was a loud -clack- that reverberated through the hall - even making the clips locked on Beryl’s nipples vibrate. Next, there was an equally loud -pop- and a vertical seam appeared down the center of the plinth.
From behind Beryl, a collection of torches lit directing their luminescence upon the throne’s plinth like a spotlight. The two runner girls stood, one on each side of the plinth, and grabbed long handles that Beryl had not noticed before. With considerable effort they began to pull the two halves of the front of the stone plinth apart slowly exposing a hidden compartment inside.
Beryl gasped when she could finally see the interior. “Willow!”
There was a woman inside the plinth. She was squinting, trying to get her eyes to transition from darkness to the blazing spotlights. She was restrained and could not move. She was naked except for a sturdy, metal collar engraved with the words “Property of Beryl” and a host of thin chains supporting an array of clear, green crystals.
“Willow!” Beryl called again. She was trying to determine how she might cross the metal grate without falling into the purple fires below.
“Mihh-thih!” Willow answered, still squinting to try to see into the bright lights that illuminated her. “Nooo! Ruhhhh!!!”
“Willow! Are you ok?” Beryl asked. “I’m here! I’m going to take you home!”
“Nooo! Ruhhh! Go!” Willow responded. “Ihh a hraph-”
When the sorceress waved the scepter before Willow, her voice went silent.
The sorceress stood up from her throne. There was a pair of bright purple flashes. After the first, the sorceress seemed to have disappeared and after the second she was suddenly standing at the base of the plinth next to where Willow was held.
“As you can see,” the sorceress stated, pointing with her scepter. “My new plinth has been built around the slave that you refer to as Willow. She is part of my throne now.”
“But…” Beryl began.
“Her hands and her feet are permanently embedded in the stone walls which have been measured precisely to maintain maximum tension on her limbs and, resultantly, minimum movement.” The sorceress was smiling proudly as she pointed with her scepter to the locations where Willow ankles and wrists disappeared into the stone. The arrangement left the slave stretched in a strict spreadeagle. Her position may have left her slightly reclined from vertical, but not by much.
“The green crystals really bring out her eyes, don’t you think?” the sorceress asked. “I attached these chains from her ears to her nose on each side of her face. The chains support two crystals each.”
Beryl stared in horror at Willow’s face jewelry. The crystals had to be at least five centimeters long, with the width - close to 3 centimeters, a hexagonal cross section. The top and bottom angled to points.
“Her nose,” the sorceress pointed at a ring with another dangling crystal that descended slightly past her chin. “And these two that are coming from her mouth.” A thin chain descended from each side of her mouth allowing their crystals to dangle at neck level. “Those chains are actually anchored to her tongue which is why her lisp is so horrible now.” The sorceress reached up with a hand and gently lifted one of the crystals causing Willow’s lip to relax a little, emphasizing how heavy the crystals must be. “Like you said, though, she never speaks. I wasn’t even sure if she could until just now. Hmmm… Impressive.”
The sorceress pushed the head of her scepter into the underside of Willow’s right breast. “Of course, each nipple supports a sturdy ring and a dangling crystal. And lower, one dangling from a ring in her navel. And here…” The sorceress tapped two more crystals dangling between Willow’s legs. “One attached to her inner labia on each side.”
“Each of these crystals store mana, magical energy. The center of the crystals is actually liquid, the substance we use we call Elixir of Carpelan - an extremely potent aphrodisiac. Finally, suspended within the fluid is a biocatalyst.” The sorceress gently grabbed the crystal hanging from Willow’s right nipple and studied it for a moment. “You could actually see the catalyst squirming around inside the crystal if you were a little closer.”
The sorceress released the crystal and it dropped a bit, tugging on Willow’s nipple, then swinging back and forth. The tension obviously had an effect on Willow. Beryl knew the facial expressions that Willow was making. They indicated arousal, a desperate arousal which would linger until it was properly satiated.
Beryl was uncertain what to think at this moment. Was the sorceress going to remove Willow from the plinth? There was a gnawing concern deep in Beryl’s gut that suggested that she would not.
“The slave is quite pretty,” the sorceress said. She placed her hand on the inner side of Willow’s knee and slowly slid her hand up along her thigh. She gently lay her hand atop Willow’s public bone which had been rendered devoid of hair and was glistening with perspiration or oil in the light. The sorceress applied a bit of pressure and stroked down. Willow’s head rocked back against the stone wall behind her. Her eyes closed. Her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Every crystal swayed gently with each restricted movement Willow made.
“Now watch what happens when I turn her on,” the sorceress said quietly, before whispering some kind of invocation.
<>--+-
Fourth aside:
Dear Reader, the clips that were attached to Beryl’s nipples had teased her earlier during her audience with the sorceress. However, since the unveiling of Willow’s new position, the clips had been completely inert. Perhaps they provided a dull ache, but the ache and any previous arousal was long forgotten as soon as Beryl saw Willow. Even though, as we shall soon discover, Beryl particularly enjoyed the sight of her slave stretched and restrained, the tension created by the circumstances completely negated her capacity to enjoy the predicament. All this to say that Beryl, at this point in time, was not sexually aroused at all.
<>--+-
Every muscle in Beryl’s body suddenly contracted. She was bent over by the force, grunting as the air was forced from her lungs. Luckily, her muscles relaxed for a moment, but then immediately contracted again. The sensation was mildly painful, yet also exquisitely pleasurable at the same time.
“Holy shit!” she realized. “I’m having an orgasm!”
In fact, her body was wrapped deep in the throes of a massive orgasm. But, her body, seconds before, was completely unprepared to receive one. Immediately and with great haste, her body automatically began to shift its resources to ease the onslaught of each clenching wave. Body parts requiring lubrication began full production. Blood shifted to the appropriate sites. Most particularly, blood drained from her head. Her vision went fuzzy and she collapsed on the ground.
Some time long ago, Beryl was sitting at the dinner table, hand feeding her slave who was kneeling dutifully on the floor beside her with her arms folded neatly in the small of her back. Both she and Willow were full. Beryl looked down at Willow, who was cleaning Beryl’s palm with long, gentle licks. She found that Willow was looking up adoringly at Beryl with her big green eyes. For a second, Beryl’s breath caught in her chest.
“That’s enough, slave,” Beryl growled. “Go to the bedroom and affix yourself properly. Don’t dawdle. I’ll wash my dish and be there shortly.”
Willow smiled and crawled towards the door. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at Beryl, utterly confident that her graceful traverse and the way it made her body move had captured the entirety of Beryl’s attention.
“What a cheeky slut…” Beryl whispered, as Willow left the room.
By the time Beryl arrived at the bedroom, Willow had already chained herself down. Her legs were stretched to the nearest corner and her left arm as well. Only her right arm remained free, and upon seeing Beryl enter, she slowly stopped gently playing her fingers over her pointed nipple and stretched her arm towards the fourth corner of the bed, waiting for the final restraint.
Beryl grabbed her wrist with a surprising degree of urgency, pulling Willow’s arm straight and locking the cuff in place with a loud snap. Willow was flexing her thighs, slightly raising her pelvis, breathing deeply. Her eyes were dilated and half closed. Her mouth slipped from a smile to an ‘O’ and back again.
For a moment, Beryl let her own fingers slowly drift across Willow’s chest and her soft belly. She watched the goosebumps rise as Willow jerked slightly at the intensity of the ticklish touch. Beryl could not neglect her own need for long though, and her clothes were soon thrown into a pile. She climbed on the bed with her knees placed on either side of Willow’s head, when she lowered herself down with tongue extended, Willow’s own skilled tongue was there to reciprocate.
Somehow Willow was always able to reach orgasm first. Beryl could feel the orgasm coming on by the way her slave’s muscles began to tense. Soon Willow thrust up her chest to push Beryl’s sex from her mouth and let forth the most beautifully voiced note ever heard.
Beryl thought perhaps that she had been conditioned by the sound of the note that rang from Willow’s mouth over all the years that they had been together. Or maybe, Willow conjured up a bit of magic. Whichever it was, the moment Beryl heard the note she immediately descended into her own massive orgasm - her eyes rolling back in her head, losing sight of her lover’s gushing sex right in front of her face…
Beryl was lying on the smooth marble floor. She remembered that she had arrived for an audience with the Sorceress of Belmar. But, yet, she heard that marvelous note ringing through the hall. The one that only Willow had been able to ever sustain.
Willow!
Beryl lifted her head and glanced towards the throne and her love slave embedded within the plinth. Willow’s eyes were closed, her head tilted up, mouth open, screaming out the note. She saw the two runner girls collapsed and writhing on the ground in their own ecstasy. The sorceress was levitating in the air two meters above the throne. She had thrust her scepter up into the air and purple balls of light were erupting into the darkness above. Her face twisted by a horrifying grin, her eyes glowing with power.
Beryl had only barely registered her surroundings before she had to succumb once again to another body curling orgasm. Willow’s voice twisted her, wrung her, left her grunting, her entire body vibrating in sync with the frequency of Willow’s piercing voice.
Beryl’s body continued to be squeezed from within, peaking repeatedly, but not slowing down. She could no longer recover between contractions, she couldn’t catch her breath. She blacked out again.
When Beryl awoke again, she could barely pull her head off the ground. But when she managed, she saw the sorceress once again seated upon her throne. The runner girls were starting to stir slowly below her. Willow’s eyes were closed and her chest was heaving, obviously winded, but silent once again - still hanging tightly between her captured and embedded limbs.
“Delicious,” the sorceress said.
Beryl tried to stand up, but stumbled and collapsed back on the ground.
“And that was nothing,” the sorceress continued, when Beryl was able to raise her head again. “We still have one more crystal to add. The most important one. The keystone. Once it is in place the power she will generate will be one hundred fold greater than it is right now.”
Beryl’s throat was dry when she began to talk. But with each word she said, she felt her strength and confidence growing. “You have to let my slave, Willow, free!” she said. “She is clearly wearing my collar, marking her as my slave. It says ‘Property of Beryl’. This is the collar with the keys lost at the bottom of the Kenmare Chasm. By the laws of Queen Isabel’s realm, that marks Willow as my property. Also, the Queen, herself, informed me that there are treaties between her realm and yours that require you to honor property rights!”
Beryl had gathered the constitution to stand and did so proudly with her fists clenched at her sides.
The sorceress frowned and seemed to contemplate things for a bit. The two runner slaves had slowly climbed to their feet as well. The sorceress gave them a signal and they trotted drunkenly into the darkness behind the throne. Meanwhile, the sorceress climbed down from the throne and looked at Willow, who seemed to be only half conscious - totally blissed out.
The sorceress pushed Willow’s hair to the side and ran a finger along the metal slave collar that was fastened around Willow’s neck.
“It is a very nice slave collar,” the sorceress said. “I did not want to perform a disarticulation in order to remove the collar. A beheading is such an unpleasant thing, and then you have to wait for regeneration. Sometimes a beheading can cause an individual to fall into a life-dream, then I’d have to wait for years for her to reawaken…”
The two runner girls returned with a third in tow. They had a bucket and towels and they began to wash and feed Willow. The new girl knelt with her face directly in front of Willow’s crotch. Beryl was not exactly sure what her purpose was and could not see from across the metal grating.
“...So, I left her collar on, obviously…” the sorceress said. “Unfortunately…” the sorceress turned to look at Beryl. “...for you, that is… I will choose to ignore the treaty and the slave shall remain as she is.”
Beryl felt her face flush with anger. She felt the clips at her nipples begin to squeeze a little tighter. “But… but what about the treaty? What about Queen Isabel?”
The woman kneeling before Willow had pushed the two crystals attached to Willow’s labia to the side and clamped her mouth tightly around her vagina. Her torso was moving rhythmically like she was drinking as quickly as possible. After a moment she sat back and the two runner slaves were wiping down Willow’s sex.
“I suppose,” the sorceress said, “that I’ll need to have a word with her to secure a special dispensation to keep the slave.” The sorceress turned and placed a hand by her mouth and shouted into the cavernous hall, “Queen Isabel? May I have a word?”
Beryl thought that the sorceress was mocking her and her anger was beginning to boil over. Except, then a woman strode out from around the throne dressed in a most regal manner. It was Queen Isabel!
“I told you that she would be a good addition,” the Queen said. The sorceress stepped up to the Queen and they embraced in a passionate kiss.
“I never doubted you, my love,” the sorceress said once the two had finished the kiss.
“What…?” Beryl asked, looking confused. Looking betrayed. She heard a noise behind her and turned to see a phalanx of the sorceress’s guards walking towards her.
“Guards, restrain this woman and secure her in my laboratory,” the sorceress commanded, smiling, then turning to kiss the Queen again.
<>--+-
Fifth aside:
Dear Reader, it took about six guards to restrain Beryl, which left another twenty six to stand and watch, waiting to see if their services were needed. Luckily, I suppose, by the time the sorceress had issued the command to restrain Beryl, the runner girls had already finished washing and drying Willow and they had pushed the two front doors of the plinth closed, once again hiding the restrained slave in the darkness of the interior. So, Willow did not suffer the trauma of watching her former Mistress and lover undergo such a humiliating attack. But, don’t worry, dear Reader, Willow and Beryl will be again together in due course. So, please read on…
<>--+-
Beryl awoke in some windowless room with cold stone gray walls surrounded by various strange, magical machinery. She was tightly restrained in a spreadeagle fashion, reclined at about a forty-five degree angle. Suddenly panicked, she looked at her hands and feet and was relieved to see that they were not embedded in stone like Willow’s, merely restrained with heavy, padded leather cuffs with large padlocks securing them closed.
She was pulled so tightly, she could not move at all. Some kind of tubes hung down from above and had been inserted directly into the flesh of each forearm. Her stomach was growling with hunger. Her bladder felt as though it was about to burst.
“Those will keep you hydrated,” the sorceress said from Beryl’s right side, pointing to the tubes.
Beryl turned her head towards the sorceress. “Bitch!”
“Shhh! The negative energy can be a pollutant,” the sorceress said. “And that will prolong the cleansing phase of your preparation.” The sorceress gently slid her hand across one of Beryl’s naked breasts and placed her palm directly on Beryl’s swollen abdomen, pressing lightly on her bladder. “Which is, by far, the most unpleasant phase. Feel free to pee if you need. The angle of your confinement will direct all your urine away. The girls will be in to clean you periodically.”
The sorceress pulled a thicker tube down towards Beryl’s face. “Now, be a dear and open your mouth.”
While Beryl attempted to resist, she quickly learned that her efforts were futile. Soon, her teeth were locked in a mouth piece that allowed the sorceress to force liquids into the back of Beryl’s throat which she had no choice, but to swallow.
<>--+-
Sixth aside:
Dear Reader, these tubes were used to thoroughly cleanse Beryl’s digestive system. I will spare you the description of the process, and leave you to indulge your own imaginations however you please. I will comment that the process took almost a month and, with the help of a soup of magical narcotics and aphrodisiacs, maintained Beryl in a semiconscious twilight world where the passage of time had no meaning at all.
The month gap however did allow for the arrival of the Witch of Loma, who specialized in the conversion of matter to energy and, again, from energy to matter. She will play a pivotal role in the next phase of Beryl’s preparation.
<>--+-
Beryl felt like she had been drugged forever. When she opened her eyes, she found that she was still restrained as she had been - spreadeagle and at an angle. She heard voices and tried to focus on them…
“... will be groggy for a bit still…”
There seemed to be three women in the room. Beryl faded back into unconsciousness for a little while…
“...It takes a lot of energy to start the process of deconstructing matter,” a new witch was explaining to Queen Isabel, “but when matter is deconstructed it gives off a lot of energy. That energy can be used to continue deconstructing more matter. So, the process can fuel itself. However, constructing matter constantly requires a lot of energy and there is no renewing well to draw it from. I once calculated it would take twenty witches with my skill, three months to reconstruct…”
Beryl could not concentrate on whatever magical minutiae that they were discussing and passed out again.
<>--+-
“Raise your hips,” the sorceress requested. Beryl’s body moved automatically, and before she knew it she was settling back down with a metal belt around her waist. A shield was brought between her legs and pressed firmly, but comfortably against her pubic bone. A key was used to lock the parts in place around Beryl’s body.
“The chastity belt has been custom fitted for you based on measurements that we have taken over the past month,” the sorceress explained. “You’ll find that it is very secure and does its job quite well.”
Beryl groaned, slowly beginning to understand what the sorceress was saying.
“Don’t worry! You will have lots of orgasms!” the sorceress laughed. “Except that you will only have them when we decide.”
The sorceress stepped back and Beryl saw Queen Isabel and another witch standing, watching. “And, don’t worry!” the Queen said, smiling, waving the key to the chastity belt. “We’re not going to throw the key into the Kenmore Chasm!”
The Queen and the sorceress both laughed loudly.
“You two are being so mean, teasing her like that,” the witch said. But, she also had a large smile on her face.
“This will be one of our last chances to tease her!” the Queen responded.
When the women released the cuffs that had held Beryl for so long, she didn’t have the strength to resist. She could barely walk. They helped her over to an alcove with a smooth circular platform approximately three meters in diameter. They lay her naked body in the center of the platform.
It felt so nice to be able to move her arms and her legs. She brushed her palm across her chest. Her skin felt so supple and healthy and smooth. Beryl noticed a lock of hair draped over her hip. It was her hair! It had grown twice as long as it had been. It was shiny and lustrous and thick.
Besides the tiredness, Beryl realized that she actually really felt quite good.
Suddenly, there was a buzzing sensation. Her whole body felt like it was vibrating somehow. Strange popping sounds started to emanate from the chastity belt. It would feel like it was tighter for a moment, then it seemed loosen up again. She fell back onto the platform. She was dizzy. The ceiling was fuzzy. She felt like she was being dragged across the smooth surface of the platform, but it was a strange sensation. She felt like she was being dragged in every direction at the same time. The disorientation was making her stomach feel queasy. She closed her eyes.
The sensations seem to go on for an hour, at least. When the sensations stopped, Beryl lay still afraid that if she moved the sensations would begin again. She was jolted from her recovery by a loud clomping sound.
Beryl opened her eyes and looked around. She was no longer on the platform. She was in a huge room. The walls and ceiling were all very far away. There was some kind of strange transparent barrier surrounding her. Beryl began to sit up and reach out towards the barrier when she saw a huge object moving towards her.
Beryl looked up and her heart almost stopped. She was looking at the sorceress. Except she must have been three hundred meters tall. The sorceress bent over and tapped on the top of the barrier.
“It looks like she is awake,” the sorceress said.
“Wow! That’s just incredible!” Beryl spun around and found the Queen’s face towering over her tiny prison.
“Thanks!” said the witch. “That’s all there is to it!”
Beryl realized that she was still on the platform in the small alcove of the sorceress’s laboratory. She had been shrunken! “No!”
“Ooo! She squeaks,” the Queen said. She held up the key to Beryl’s chastity belt. “Uh-oh! I don’t think the key is going to fit anymore! Oops!”
“Okay, I’m ready,” the sorceress said. “Pick up the glass.”
The Queen lifted the transparent barrier that had been surrounding Beryl and the sorceress reached down toward her. Beryl was trying to scramble to her feet to get away, but suddenly she was jerked up by her crotch, flying up into the air, until her belt stuck to a metal block held between the sorceress’s fingers with a solid click.
“I’ve got her with the magnet,” the sorceress said.
Suddenly, Beryl was lifted far off the ground at a dizzying speed and transported across the laboratory.
“Oh, shit!” Beryl saw a green crystal exactly like the ones that Willow had hanging from her body. Except this one was big enough… or she was small enough…
The sorceress held Beryl over the crystal. The top had been removed and the interior was filled with some kind of thick syrup-like liquid. Beryl’s feet were angled down, then the magnet let go of its hold on her chastity belt and Beryl dropped into the liquid.
The liquid was thick and warm and slippery. It came up to her breasts. She tried to push off the bottom with her feet, but realized that her feet were not even touching the bottom. When she pushed down, the liquid became thicker and thicker until she did not have the weight to push against it any more.
She tried to use her arms to reach the side and pull herself out of the top, but, once again, the closer she came to the side, the thicker the fluid became. She turned her body and tried to reach for another side with the same result.
The sorceress was lowering something from above Beryl. It was the top of the crystal. “Don’t! Let me out!”
There was a clicking sound as the top of the crystal was fitted to the body. Beryl was stuck inside the crystal! She frantically tried to reach for the green transparent walls of her prison, kicking and flinging her arms about.
There was a sound above her. At the apex of the top of the crystal a small metal tube had been inserted in a hole. Through the green roof, Beryl saw the sorceress standing above with a large syringe in her hand. When she pressed the plunger, more of the thick warm fluid started to spray down on her head.
They were going to fill the rest of the space inside the crystal with the fluid!!
<>--+-
Seventh aside:
Dear Reader, I will take a moment to allay your fears. Beryl is divine and immortal. Even if she were to be submerged in the depths of the ocean with no way to access air, she would not be harmed. On the other hand, the experience can be very uncomfortable. Without oxygen a divine woman of her nature, would become sluggish and more susceptible to slipping into a life-dream. As you shall witness, if you care to continue reading, the fluid will allow Beryl to breathe quite well. Indeed, that is only one of its magical properties.
<>--+-
The fluid quickly rose up Beryl’s neck. She tipped her head back and tried to swim up towards the top. When the fluid slipped into her mouth, she took a deep breath and went under for the last time. Beryl still tried to swim towards the top, but she encountered the same resistance the higher she rose. All too quickly, she gasped for a breath. The liquid rushed into her mouth and down her throat. She coughed and bubbles of air blasted from her mouth and nose.
After a moment though, she noticed that she wasn’t strangling. She was breathing in the fluid and oxygen was passing into her bloodstream. She could breathe! The fluid was thick and warm and felt strange as she pulled it through her nose and mouth. It actually felt kind of good. She could taste it too. It was delicious. She swallowed some of it and felt it warm her stomach.
Soon, it seemed to also warm something deep in her crotch as well. She ran her hands over her body. It felt really good to stroke her skin. She reached down to her crotch, but was disappointed to find the chastity belt blocking the place she really wanted to touch. Still, she couldn’t stop touching herself all over.
She noticed that all the air bubbles that she had created had all risen to the top. More fluid had been squeezed in to fill the space. Shortly, there was a crackling sound and the seam that had defined the boundary between the top and the bottom of the crystal disappeared. Beryl reached out to touch the wall where the seam had been, but couldn’t push out her hand far enough. She was utterly suspended inside the fluid, inside the crystal. The only thing that she could touch was herself, and the desire to do so felt almost insatiable.
Beryl saw the sorceress lift her crystal prison into the air. Inside, Beryl was jostled around but never enough to bang against the green barrier.
Beryl watched as the sorceress carried her through darkened passageways and finally into the great, cavernous hall with the throne on the plinth. Two runner girls were waiting and they pulled at the edges of the stone plinth, opening the doors to reveal the slave embedded inside.
“Willow!” Beryl yelled, but the liquid medium did not allow for Beryl to make any sound at all, so, if one were looking close enough, they would have simply seen the lips of the tiny woman inside the crystal move, but heard nothing.
On the other hand, inside the fluid, Beryl was able to hear sounds from outside, although they were muted and distorted. She definitely heard Willow’s scream of pain and shock when her clitoris was pierced.
<>--+-
About a month later, the doors to the stone plinth were slowly pulled open. Beryl was sliding her hands up and down her body. She was so incredibly horny. She thought that the Queen had said she would be allowed to orgasm often. So far, though… nothing!
As light flooded into the area inside the plinth, Beryl felt Willow begin to shake and writhe in ecstasy as well. She looked up to the top of her crystal prison. A chain was mounted there and it reached up to a ring embedded in a large extension of flesh probably larger than Beryl’s tiny, miniature head. It was Willow’s clit, and Beryl’s crystal hung from the piercing.
There was another piercing underneath Willow’s clit, a horizontal hood piercing that curved around. The weight of Beryl’s crystal pulled Willow’s clit down so its sensitive underside was resting over the smooth bar. Every time Beryl moved, her crystal moved and pulled on Willow’s clit which rubbed slightly along the horizontal piercing. After enough small movements Willow would thrust her hips slightly - enough to shake Beryl with a wave of arousal which no amount of heavy petting could satiate.
When Beryl looked down, she peered directly into the space where she would once use her tongue to tease her lover slave to orgasm after orgasm. That was when her tongue was bigger than her entire body was now.
Beryl turned around in her small crystal prison. Beyond the green walls, the great hall was filled with mistresses and their slaves, gathered together for some magical presentation.
“Now, I just need to turn her on.” Beryl heard the sound of the sorceress’s voice. Suddenly, a wave of arousal blasted out from Willow and the throne. The mistresses and their slaves collapsed to the floor and the wave spread, their bodies suddenly clenching in orgasm. The sorceress levitated out over the crowd of writhing bodies, tearing at their clothes, grabbing for one another’s flesh, kissing, licking… The sorceress held her scepter up towards the ceiling, her eyes glowing and a power-twisted grin stretching her face. Purple balls of light flared from the head of the scepter filling the ceiling with light.
Willow, who had been straining against her bonds, slipped past the point of no return and she began to sing that particular note loudly into the cavern. The orgasm frequency. As soon as Beryl heard it pierce her tiny prison, her eyes rolled back in her head, her fists and toes clenched, her mouth opened wide and back arched. It was by far the greatest, most powerful orgasm Beryl had ever felt.
<>--+-
Eighth and final aside:
Dear Reader, And so, this concludes the tale of Beryl and Willow. Well… not exactly. When you are immortal and live forever, there will inevitably eventually come a time when your circumstances will change. One day, perhaps, the Sorceress of Belmar would become tired of this toy, or discover a more powerful source of magic energy. Maybe she would be challenged and defeated by a rival. Maybe she would slip into a life-dream or decide to move toward the ever distance line of life. Sometime in the future, probably not measured in days or months, but rather hundreds or thousands of years (or maybe more)... some day… Willow will probably break free from the stone and she will know exactly where to find her ever-loving Mistress.
Who knows what further wild adventures they may have together?