Aside number 1:

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.

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“Aw, shit! Here we go!” Briggs whispered to herself when she looked out the window.

Twenty or more of the Queen’s Guard were making their way along the lane up to the small farmhouse in which she lived with her lover, Lahara. That bitch, Rangley, Mistress of the Guard, was leading the way.

“Fuck!”

She looked even further down the lane. Another line of women were making their way towards her farm as well. Rather than wielding swords and pikes, though, these women were carrying leashes and pulling carts for hauling livestock. Briggs gave a brief glance towards the field where a flock of sheep were grazing. “Well… at least they will be cared for…”

Briggs knew that this moment would come. Still, she had to pretend otherwise. She inhaled a deep breath then headed for the front door.

“You should have called ahead, Rangley,” Briggs said as she stepped outside. “If I’d have known you and your friends were visiting, I would have made tea.”

Rangley stopped at the bottom of the door stoop, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “Briggs, you have been found guilty of association with a thief, and, as proclaimed by the Queen, you are to be banished from the Queendom.”

“The Queen said that? I thought she was in the midst of a life-dream. Did she awaken too young? I’m so sorry.”

“May I come in?” Rangley asked.

“So polite…” Briggs said, with just a touch of sarcasm. She opened the door and motioned for Rangley to enter. She followed the Mistress back into the house and shut the door.

“So, what’s going on now?” Briggs asked.

“Exactly what I told you would happen long ago. Still, you continued to hang out with that no good worthless pile of scum, Lahara. Now, your stubbornness has caught up to you,” Rangley said.

“It’s not exactly referred to ‘hanging out’ when we live together and fuck as often as we like,” Briggs responded. She felt a sense of satisfaction when she noticed Rangley flinch. “I’m not even sure why you are here,” Briggs said. “Maybe you could explain what is going on.”

“Uh-huh… I caught Lahara talking to her sister,” Rangley said, turning to look directly into Brigg’s deep blue eyes for the first time.

“In Queen Lariat’s treasure room? Meelahn is awake?” Briggs asked.

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Aside number 2:

Dear reader, you are probably wondering why Lahara would get into such big trouble, merely for talking to her own sister, Meelahn. That, my friends, is a story unto itself. In order to speak to her sister, Lahara had to break into the Queen’s treasure room. Unfortunately, I do not have the details of the reason how these circumstances arose, but I can describe generally what the current state of these circumstances are…

Apparently, about a hundred years before, Queen Lariat had an intense disagreement with Lahara’s sister. Some suggest the Queen was jealous when Meelahn stole the heart of a castle servant. Others say that she stole the Queen’s favorite goat. Either way, the Queen arrested Meelahn and “mounted” her in the royal treasure room. A team of investigators have been dispatched to determine what being “mounted” entails. Regardless, it must be a fairly strict form of bondage. It is said that Meelahn quickly succumbed to a life-dream.

A life-dream is a natural process that all members of the immortal race of Wom experience. It’s kind of like taking a sabbatical from one’s job in our mortal world. A life-dream can last upwards toward eighty years, sometimes more. The idea is that upon one’s return from the life-dream an individual is wonderfully refreshed and full of vigor. Indeed, it just so happens that Queen Lariat herself, a mere forty-three years after the mounting of Meelahn, descended into a life-dream of her own.

When one is on a sabbatical, there is no circumstance wherein the individual should be called in to work. Likewise, in the universe of the Wom, it is a cardinal sin to awaken an individual in the midst of a life-dream. That is, it should never be done under any circumstances. And so, in order to maintain her Queendom during her slumber, Queen Lariat assigned her Mistress of the Guard, Rangley, to protect Her Majesty’s interests.

One particularly public decree that the Queen set before her slumber was that no individual should enter into her treasure room. Anyone (and certainly, the Queen had Lahara in mind) who breaches the rule, and any of the individual’s immediate relations, would be sentenced to be banished from the Queendom by being tossed through a dimensional portal randomly attached to some unknown place way out in the world.

Regardless, it seems, Meelahn’s sister, Lahara has breached the treasure room. And now Lahara’s closest relation is being set upon by Mistress Rangley.

Dear Reader, I, as your humble narrator, would like to apologize for what is often referred to as a “shitload” of exposition. For there is nothing erotic about all this rambling. Still, I feel that it is important to understand the relationships between all these characters. Let me review them one last time, only now, instead, with a series of clever couplets.

Queen Lariat dreams away in mortal guise,

While Meelahn, wronged, in the treasure room cries.

Rangley, the guard, with steely glare,

Holds the Queendom's reins, a weighty affair.

Lahara, bold, for her sister intervened,

But now by Rangley's grasp, her plans are gleaned.

Briggs, shepherd swain, Lahara’s love so true,

Is also in trouble. Rangley's cuffs await her too!

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“Banished?” Briggs said, adorning her face with a practiced look of surprise.

“Yes. By the Queen’s decree,” Rangley explained. “Lahara has already been… uh… packaged… And I’m afraid that you face the same fate.”

“This is completely unjust!” Briggs screamed. “Did she even touch any of the Queen’s precious treasures? She probably just wanted to have a moment with her own sister.”

“Oh, no, there was no time to touch anything in the treasure room,” Rangley said, smiling proudly. “I had installed wards all over the room. She set them off immediately. Anyways, the Queen knew that Lahara would not be able to resist attempting to communicate with Meelahn… And I tried to warn you years ago that this would happen.”

Briggs scowled at Rangley for a moment then turned away as though in deep thought.

“I can save you from all of this,” Rangley said quickly. “ I can save you a certain degree of… uh… discomfort. You’re a very beautiful woman. Your submissive demeanor is legendary, Briggs. I could keep you. I’d have to use a few heavy chains for a while, but it would not be a tremendous hardship. You might even enjoy yourself. You might find that my position gives me access to unique experiences that have a certain stimulating appeal.”

Briggs pivoted towards Rangley, a hint of disapproval etched on her face, her eyes traveling over her form with a critical assessment. “I’d rather fuck my sheep!”

Rangley’s face turned red. She stepped over to the window. “You’re making a grave mistake.”

“Lahara just wanted to talk to her sister!” Briggs said. “And bound as Meelahn is, you know that she will quickly drop into another life-dream. Lahara couldn’t wait for Queen Lariat to awaken to make an appeal.”

“Rules are rules,” Rangely said.

“Bullsh-” There was a loud bang at the door followed by a splintering sound. “What the f…! You don’t have to tear the place to pieces. I’ll go along peacefully,” Briggs said.

Rangley turned stiffly from the window to look at Briggs. Once again her hand was resting on the hilt of her sword. “You’ve made your choice clear to me. You and your worthless bitch of a lover will be erased from the Queendom.”

There was a final loud crash and a collection of guards filed into the room. The two in front were wielding axes. They passed into the kitchen and began swinging at whatever they chose.

“Strip her! Restrain her!” Rangley commanded.

Briggs smirked at Rangley for the brief moment before the guards reached her. They pushed her to the floor and soon each of her limbs was securely held by a guard. They flipped her onto her stomach and she felt the cold steel of a blade slide in a line down her back. Her dress was torn and quickly ripped from her body.

From the kitchen there was the sound of glass breaking. There was a crash in the bedroom; clothes were thrown into the hall. A fire had been lit somewhere in the house and smoke started to swirl around the ceiling.

Briggs arms were pulled behind her back and metal cuffs were used to link her wrists together. She was lifted into the air and her boots and underclothes were ripped from her body. They carried her out into the front yard.

Out in the field, the townswomen were herding the sheep. Lassoing them. Hauling them off. Guards were using torches to light the grass on fire. Flames were starting to lick up at the clouds from the roof.

A hard wooden bit was forced between Brigg’s teeth and tied painfully behind her head. A metal chest had been set in the yard, and when Briggs realized that the guards meant to shove her inside, she began to struggle for the first time. “Nnnn!”

They pushed her on her back with her arms pinned underneath. She used her legs effectively for a minute or two, but the guards had the numbers and the upper hand. Soon, her knees were pressed against her breasts and her heels against her butt. The heavy lid of the chest swung shut, squashing her more tightly inside the chest. There was no light and very little room to move. Locks rattled closed.

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Aside number 3:

Dear Reader, perhaps you have been on a particularly long flight, maybe across the Pacific. Perhaps you were installed in the main cabin where the seats are designed to hold as many people as possible in the small space available. It was likely an unpleasant or even painful experience. Still, after uncountable hours you arrived at your destination basically intact.

Similarly, Briggs would emerge from her box, no worse off. I should note though, that this was possible only because she is a member of a divine, immortal race. Briggs’ box was transported overland by ponygirl drawn cart for almost thirty days and nights. Not once was the box opened. She was not allowed to stretch her muscles. She was not fed. She could not move. She was simply crushed inside.

A Wom without hope could possibly descend into a life-dream when cramped for so long in a box like this. Briggs, however, was in no danger of succumbing to the slumber. She would not lose hope. After all, this was just another step in Lahara’s plan to abscond with a hefty portion of Queen Lariat’s treasure. She had not expected that her means of transport was as uncomfortable as it was, but she knew it was a possibility.

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Punishment: The Queen’s Decree - Banished!

Lahara and Briggs were to be tossed into two separate portals, each temporarily anchored to some far-away random location. Generally, it was assumed that it would take more effort to return to Lariat’s Queendom than any Wom would care to exert. None, who had been banished in this manner, had ever returned.

It was well known that if one was unlucky enough to be transported to the Early Lands there were few resources to travel efficiently and the rare collection of inhabitants were members of strange, ancient tribes who exercised odd, archaic magic. Most likely, those who were banished to the Early Lands ended up living far, far away as slaves… or worse.

Two individuals sent to two separate places would almost certainly never see each other again.

Punishment (as envisioned during the planning of the heist):

According to the plan, both Briggs and Lahara were to be transported to the castle of Mistress Axial who had been hired to perform banishments. Axial was a powerful witch and known to be a particularly ruthless individual. She also controlled one of the best portal witches in the realm, Witch Echo.

However, Lahara had made a deal with Echo. Apparently, Mistress Axial had made the mistake of treating her portal witch far too poorly. Echo seemed particularly keen to escape her indentureship. With the promise of a cut of the spoils, she was eager to help Lahara and Briggs with the greatest heist in the history of the Queendom.

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Time passed slowly for Briggs as her metal box bounced along the rough track that led circuitously to Mistress Axial’s castle. Through forests and mountains, rain and wind, day after day, night after night, Briggs kept her wits by focusing on her rich future with Lahara.

Regardless, she was in a bit of a daze when she finally heard keys rattling around the box and the lid suddenly raised up. She found herself staring up into the upper reaches of a dark dungeon, illuminated by the flicker of torchlight. She tried to move, but her limbs had been held in the same position for so long that she was having difficulty getting her body to react to her commands.

Rangley’s face appeared above her. “And, look what we have here… your lovely girlfriend!” The chest was tipped up onto its end. Still, Briggs could not move. Someone started shaking the chest forward before Briggs became unwedged and collapsed in a moaning pile on the cold, stone floor.

Slowly, Briggs started straightening her legs. She spit the pieces of the bit from her mouth - having chewed through the wood over the past thirty days. Someone grabbed her by her upper arms. She felt the cuffs being removed from her wrists. She was lifted up onto her feet and held erect as she worked to get her legs to support her once more. She looked around the dungeon.

“Lahara!” Her voice came out as no more than a whisper.

Indeed, they were in a torchlit dungeon. Lahara was bound to a frame not far away. Her arms were locked above her head. Her legs were held wide apart. She was naked except for a very secure looking chastity belt. Her hair was matted and greasy, hanging limply from her head. Her face held a look of deep concern and her mouth moved to form Briggs name, but no sound came out.

Behind Lahara’s frame was a wall of small cabinets, each door decorated by a central keyhole. It looked like the commons building in her village where handwritten texts were delivered from distant loved ones - stored in boxes for each citizen.

Next to Lahara’s frame was a strange metal sculpture made of a multitude of chains, somehow supported in a way to appear like the skeleton of a Wom with limbs and a central spine. A multitude of heavy metal keys dangled from the chains.

In addition to Lahara and Rangley, there were three witches in the room. Briggs recognized one as Mistress Axial. The grand witch cast an eye towards Briggs, whispering some incantation, her hands dancing through the air. Briggs felt her body grow stiff. She rose into the air, just off the floor, her arms and legs pulled out straight from her body. Briggs tried to groan.

“Bell has an interesting skill,” Rangley was saying, her words directed towards Lahara. Briggs realized that she was no more than a prop in the ongoing ritual. “Matter may feel solid when touched by a hand, but on the smallest of scales is oddly characterized by large amounts of empty space between even smaller sub-particles. With appropriate incantations Witch Bell is able to make two disparate objects coexist in harmony in the same physical space.”

The woman named Bell began her own series of incantations. Briggs felt her body begin to vibrate all over like she was filled with white noise.

“No! Please don’t!” Lahara croaked out a scream. “She’s innocent!”

Rangley approached Briggs with a power-crazed sense of glee on her face. Something was in her hand and she was raising it up towards Briggs face in a stabbing motion. Metal entered under Briggs chin and passed through her flesh up into her mouth, through her paralyzed tongue. The metal was not sharp, though. There was no pain at all.

Witch Bell screamed a phrase. The vibrations in Briggs' body stopped. She could taste metal. Whatever Rangley had shoved into her mouth was still there, though now locked within her flesh. Briggs let out an incomprehensible grunt. Her tongue felt as though it was anchored to the floor of her mouth.

“You can see that this key and your lovely girlfriend now occupy the same space,” Rangley said. The blade of the key stuck down from the bottom of Briggs’ chin. Rangley grabbed the bit and used it to yank Briggs’ head to and fro simply to emphasize how well embedded the key was.

“Ugghhh!” Briggs screamed. The bow of the key now just breached the surface of her tongue. What, moments before, had easily slipped through her flesh, had now latched on to it. The top of the metal key restrained Briggs’ tongue! She could not move her tongue any more than feeble squirming.

“We can fix this,” Briggs thought, reassuring herself. “We’re going to be rich soon…”

Briggs was still held aloft by Mistress Axial, but she could move her eyes. She glanced over at Lahara, hoping to see a look of reassurance that everything was still going as planned. Lahara had a look of horror on her face though. Briggs knew that her lover would do nothing to give away their plans, but these events were a little more extreme than they had envisioned.

And apparently things were about to get worse!

“The only key to your lovely new chastity belt,” Rangley said to Lahara, “is among the hundreds attached to this metal sculpture that Witch Bell has assembled.”

Briggs looked over at the chain skeleton. Her heart stopped, suddenly realizing what was about to happen. “Uhhhh!!”

“No one is sure which one it is,” Rangley laughed. “You’ll have to sort through them and try each one.”

“No! Please!” Lahara said, with real horror in her voice. “Briggs is innocent!”

“She’s such a sweet submissive!” Rangley said. “So, you’ll be able to trust her to keep all these keys safe for you when you decide you are ready to take off your chastity belt. Do it, Bell!”

Mistress Axial made some motions with her hands and Briggs began to levitate across the dungeon towards the sculpture. Witch Bell once again began reciting incantations. The vibrations began to ignite throughout Briggs’ body again.

“Nnnn! Nnnuhhh!”

Slowly, Briggs body slipped down over the chain skeleton. She felt the metal links sliding into her body, cold and hard, slipping through muscle, tendon, and bone. Suddenly, the vibrations stopped.

Briggs still could not move her body. Mistress Axial continued to have control over her. She tried to look down at her body. The witch, Bell, had measured her sculpture well. All the chains seemed to be hidden inside her body, but the hundreds of keys poked out and dangled from her skin like an array of bizarre piercings. These keys could not be ripped from her skin though. They were held by the chains that shared the same space as Briggs’ body. Tugging on a key was the same as tugging on Briggs’ bones.

Mistress Axial next levitated Briggs away from the frame that held Lahara towards the portal witch, Echo, who stood next to a pair of large cabinets. Briggs whimpered as she cast another glance at her lover.

“Are the portals ready, Witch Echo?” Rangley asked.

Echo nodded and opened one of the cabinets. The interior was empty, but Briggs noticed that the back wall was a depthless shade of black.

Rangley grabbed Briggs’ arm and spoke directly to her for the first time. “Good-bye, bitch. Given the choice between your fate and any other…” Rangley smiled. “I think that I’d rather fuck your sheep.”

Rangley pushed Briggs into the cabinet. When Briggs touched the back wall, she accelerated as though being sucked into the cabinet. There was a flash of light. Briggs fell a short distance and landed on her side in a pile of small metal bits. Coins! Gold coins!

She raised her head up. She was in a dimly lit, cavernous room. When she shifted her head she felt the large keys tugging on her earlobes. She raised her hand to her face. Her arm felt weighted down. She looked at all the keys dangling from her arm. Each key looked old and heavy. They emerged from her skin everywhere.

“Uuurk!”

Briggs reached up to her chin. The blade of a key stuck straight down from her chin for about two inches. She tried to pull on it and could feel a tugging sensation on her tongue.

“Uuuuhk!” Her tongue was pinned down. She could not talk!

She passed her hands over her face and through her hair. Large keys hung from her ears like earrings. There were a number of keys tangled in her hair, emerging from her skull. She looked down at her breasts, at her torso, her legs. There were keys dangling from all over her body.

She looked at the pile of gold coins she was lying in. “Well, at least I’ll be able to afford to pay someone to get these keys out of me,” she thought. “Now, where the hell am I?”

According to the plan, the portal was supposed to transport Briggs to Witch Echo’s home. This room did not look like someone’s home. Echo’s girlfriend was supposed to be waiting in a oubliette. She was supposed to be trapped there as collateral until Echo was able to return home with the spoils from the heist. Maybe Briggs had been transported into the oubliette…

Briggs looked around. This place was huge. She could see no ceiling, no walls… There were jewels set on randomly positioned posts that emitted some kind of magical glow. The light was not bright enough though to reach the extent of the room or cavern or whatever. Oubliettes were supposed to be small, narrow holes. This was no oubliette!

“What was Echo’s girlfriend’s name? Dulce?”

Briggs stood up, the keys clicking against one another with every move that she made. She half slid, half stumbled down the pile of coins. “Holy shit! We’re rich, now!”

She started walking towards a place not far away where there was a concentration of glowing gems. There was a lot more than just coins. There were all kinds of art, sculptures, statues. Some of the styles were extremely old.

“What if I was transported to the wrong place?” Briggs worried. “Is this Lariat’s treasure room? This place is huge.”

Briggs suddenly heard a woman’s voice not far away. It was a quiet voice - high pitched - submissive. It sounded like a greeting, but Briggs was uncertain she understood the words.

“Ahh-oh?” Briggs said.

“Shhh!” the voice said followed by more quietly spoken words.

The voice was coming from a cage nearby. A shadow lay over the cage making it hard for Briggs to see the occupant, but a face emerged from the darkness, rising up to the bars. The cage was not terribly big - perhaps four feet on each side. The bottom was covered in a thick nest of some kind of fibrous stuffing.

Briggs picked up a nearby jewel that was glowing with a dim red light. When she moved the jewel, it grew brighter. She shook it for a moment until its light shone onto the cage’s prisoner. She was a small, thin woman with sharp features. An elaborate tattoo wound its way from her neck around her breasts, over her stomach to her naked crotch. Her eyes were bright and intelligent. She had a huge smile.

At first, Briggs thought she had no arms. But, when she stepped forward and looked closer, she realized that the woman’s thin arms were tucked around behind her back. The woman’s hair was long and thick and…

“Uhhh?!” A shiver ran down Briggs’ spine. The fibrous nest beneath the woman was made up of the woman’s hair! Hair that was still attached to the prisoner’s head! How long…

Briggs took a closer look at the woman’s tattoo. It was not a continuous swirl, but rather, many, many small tattoos. The tattoos were images of ants! Thousands of them, seemingly marching in lines from her crotch towards her head.

The woman said something and nodded towards Briggs. She smiled and then shook her breasts provocatively.

Briggs had seen women with these ant tattoos before. They were members from a particular tribe who had been alive long before Briggs was born.  For an immortal, tattoos were only as permanent as one chose. The ant tattoos had gone out of style millenia ago.

And, it was strange that Briggs did not understand what the woman was saying. Language changes over the years. Even individuals who have been alive for thousands of years likely speak a different tongue than they did when they were freshly born into the world.

Briggs used her hands to signal a greeting - a form of communication that has hardly changed at all. The woman smiled and flexed her shoulders. It was obvious that her arms were bound behind her back somehow. She would not be able to respond.

“What the fuck is going on?” Briggs thought. “I don’t think this woman is Dulce. Have I been portalled back into the Early Lands? No way.”

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Aside number 4:

We agree with Briggs’ assessment. No way! The odds that a portal had been randomly anchored to a treasure room somewhere in the vastness of the Early Lands was astronomically improbable.

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If Echo knew of this treasure room, why would she have any interest or need in stealing from Queen Lariat?

Briggs looked out across the piles of gold coins. Briggs hoped Lahara dropped through the portal soon to tell her what this place was.

Briggs stepped up to the cage to feel how secure the bars were. They were much harder than gold. She held the glowing jewel aloft to see if the cage had a door. There was none. The woman leaned her head against Briggs’ hand where she held the bars, nuzzling. She pressed her chest to the bars, pushing her breasts through the openings, gently rocking from side to side, letting the bars slide across her nipples which grew more and more erect.

The woman cooed at Briggs, convincing her to look into her eyes. She turned her head meaningfully to her right, peering into the distance. Briggs followed her gaze. There was a pole six feet tall or so crowned with a number of jewels which seemed to twinkle and glow, pulsating. Jewels like these were often used to store “carpelan”, a form of magical mana. A powerful witch would store mana to perform spells that required more magic than any individual could generate.

Briggs smiled at the caged woman then turned and slowly climbed over the piles of gold coins towards the closest pole. Something was clumped around the base of the pole. Briggs heard some quiet moaning - not pain, though. It was a moan of ecstasy.

When the light from the jewel in Briggs hand was close enough to shine on the base of the pole, Briggs found the source of the moaning. Two women were tangled around each other in such a tight ball, that Briggs was uncertain which arm or leg belonged to which woman.

It was a balanced affair, each with their mouth pressed against the other’s sex. Each woman’s head was held in place by one of the other woman’s legs wrapped tightly behind the neck - the bend of the leg forcing each woman into tight contact. The sounds that the two women made were definitely not sounds of distress. However, their position did not seem wholly voluntary. Or, if voluntary, they now apparently had absolutely no opportunity to disengage. Bands of steel had been wrapped around feet and ankles and steel cable linked the woman, ratcheting their limbs together. Their arms tangled around their partner’s legs, hands cuffed behind their backs, further cables squashing them together into tight union. There was no chance to move beyond the slight bobbing of their heads as their tongues worked, heavy breathing and an occasional shiver of arousal.

Briggs knelt down and placed a hand on one of the woman’s haunches which caused the woman to flex as much as her bonds would allow and grunt an ecstatic, muffled cry. The woman’s skin was warm and slick. Briggs slid her hand across the smooth steel bands capturing the women together. There were no seams.

The pole was a charging station. The glowing jewels around the top of the pole were being charged with carpelan using the women’s sexual energy - for immortals, a slow burning, but limitless resource.

Briggs saw another two poles not far away. Each with a pair of women similarly bound. There was a huge pile of gold just beyond the poles, and beyond that a brighter glow containing a multitude of colors.

Briggs wondered how much magic energy could possibly be stored in this treasure room. How many eons had the magic been collecting? And what was the purpose for accumulating so much?

The woman in the cage was quietly calling again. When Briggs turned towards the cage, the prisoner shifted her head as though beckoning Briggs to return. She stumbled over the clattering gold coins - the keys adorning her flesh ringing as they swung too and fro.

When she returned to the cage, the prisoner looked meaningfully to her left. Briggs turned to find another pole, like the others. However, there were no jewels around the crown. There were no women bound beneath.

The caged woman said more, and when Briggs looked at her she was smiling brightly, shifting from knee to knee. She was nodding and arching her back, pushing her breasts forward.

“Where the hell is Lahara?” Briggs wondered. She would be much happier when Lahara arrived. This place was too weird. They could find the exit and start a life of leisure. They could free these women from their bonds. Maybe they would like to work for them. Maybe they could all share the wealth.

“Shh! Shh!” the woman in the cage said suddenly. “Aoidos!”

That was a word that Briggs knew. An ancient word. All women knew the word. It meant “enchantress”. Witch!

“Iiii?” Briggs tried to ask.

“Shh! Shh!”

There was a rustling sound up above. Briggs looked up but could see nothing but darkness. Behind her, there was a rattling of coins. Briggs turned. Her mouth dropped open.

She was looking at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Long, black hair, light brown skin, dark eyes. She had the perfect figure. The perfect curves. She wore a necklace of glowing jewels, a similar belt around her waist. Otherwise she was naked. However, most shocking, were the huge pair of leathery wings arching behind her.

The witch spoke, her voice soft and easy, musical even. Though she spoke in her ancient language, Briggs could also hear the witch’s voice inside her own head speaking in the modern tongue.

“You are a beauty. Turn to me and spread your arms. Let me look at you.”

Briggs did as the witch commanded without even thinking about what she was doing. The witch stepped up to Briggs. She was a little shorter than Briggs, but she had a commanding presence. The witch reached out to touch Briggs. She slid her hand over Briggs’ breast and held one of the keys that emerged from her torso.

“Did you do this to yourself? No.” The witch seemed to know the answer before Briggs could even mentally process the question.

The witch reached up to the key impaled in the underside of Briggs chin, touching it briefly. She opened Briggs’ mouth and looked inside. “Your tongue is pinned. That must be inconvenient for you. It is no problem.”

The witch waved her hand at the cage. The lid flipped off into a pile of coins. The bars collapsed. The prisoner let out a squeal of jubilation and began crawling on her knees towards the witch bowing her head in supplication.

“Shh! Tanythe! I know you have waited for a long time. Shh, my pet. My, my, look at how long you have grown your hair!”

The witch grabbed the woman’s hair near the base of her neck and pulled up. As the hair slid through the witches fingers the natty tangles straightened into a thick, tame chord of clean, glowing locks. It took a bit of work, but when all the hair had passed through the witch’s hands, it hung three times the length of the woman’s body coiling neatly along the cavern floor. Briggs continued to stand and stare, her arms still outstretched.

There was a loud snap of metal breaking and cuffs falling to the ground behind the formerly caged woman.

“Hee heeee!” the woman cried happily. She brought her thin arms around, one hand reaching for her breast, the second pressing down over her pubic area.

“Patience, Tanythe!” the witch said. “I need to make one change!”

The witch held out her hand. Apparently, the tips of her wings had opposable claws. She had used the claws to pick up a random jewel from the floor and drop it into her outstretched hand.

“Open your mouth, Briggs,” the witch said.

Briggs was trying to remember if she had said what her name was yet. Then she remembered that she couldn’t even pronounce her own name with the key holding her tongue down.

The witch reached into Briggs’ mouth and grabbed the tip of her tongue. When the witch pulled Briggs’ tongue, unfortunately, it continued to remain pinned to the bottom of her mouth. This did not seem to concern the witch and she continued to pull. Briggs felt the tip of her tongue getting longer and longer. When the witch finally let go, the tip flopped down five inches or more outside her mouth.

“Ulllrk!” Her tongue was still anchored to the bottom of her mouth. She couldn’t pull her tongue back in!

There was something very unpleasant about having her tongue exposed. It felt cold and dry and like small insects were crawling all over it, stinging her. Briggs tried to curl her tongue back into her mouth. The muscle was fairly dexterous. Briggs had good control over it, but it was simply too long to fit.

“Mmmmnn!”

“A belt for you, young pet. A chain.” Briggs was not concerned in the least about the metal band that was tightening about her waist. She had to do something about her tongue. She reached up to hold it in her hand.

Tanythe stepped before Briggs, smiling.

Briggs decided that she could put her tongue in Tanythe’s mouth. That would make it feel better. She bent forward to kiss the woman.

Tanythe laughed and pushed Briggs’ face to the side. She gently took Briggs’ hand and began to lead her to the nearby pole. A swarm of uncharged jewels swooped down from above and began to affix themselves around the crown of the pole.

Tanythe knelt at the base of the pole, pulling Briggs down to her knees as well. She said something in her soft cooing voice, then leant to one side, raising her leg in invitation.

Briggs knew in a flash where her tongue needed to be. She leaned down in the opposite direction raising her own leg as she did. The metal cuffs and steel bands slithered around their bodies, hugging them together.

“Tanythe says that you are lovers now,” the witch told Briggs.

Briggs pressed her tongue into Tanythe’s sex. Oh, yes! That felt so much better. She could reach deeply with her enhanced tongue and she felt the woman’s muscles clench and release. Squeezing her in such a wonderful way. She felt her wrists being pulled behind her back. A leg was wrapping around the back of her neck, pulling her tightly against Tanythe’s sex. Her own legs were being manipulated around Tanythe. She could feel her new lover’s tongue flick against her clit and push between her labia. The metal bonds grew tighter and tighter locking her to her new partner.

She felt the witch slide her hand gently over her waist where the metal belt had been locked.

“Hopefully, someone will come for you,” the witch said. “Then I will finally be free.”

Briggs was not listening. She was already on the precipice of the first of many orgasms.