[Fonk]

Sorry this is taking so long: it's been manic at work recently. Now I've got some time off, though! Whoo-hoo!

The Claws Of Winter – Part 3

Vanessa Keates was alert. Something about the green point of light she had spotted was making her uneasy. "It's a trap," she said, stopping. "I know," Jean-Jacques replied solemnly. "But look at it this way: we have no other leads and my Ring, at least, is saying that the source of the magic is within that cave. We have no choice." Vanessa nodded: it made a lot of sense. They continued.

The trio were within a hundred yards of the foot of the mountain when Vanessa heard a noise from above. It sounded like a scream, although no human could have made the sound. She screwed up her eyes, trying to find the source in the blizzard. Her eyes went wide. The others gasped. "What is that?" Dominique yelled over the whipping snow. "Those," Vanessa said grimly. "What are those." A horde of creatures was pouring from the cave mouth, each giving its own private battle cry before freefalling into the snow and running toward them. She swallowed. There would soon be too many to fight alone.

She turned to her companions. "They'll be on us in seconds. Can you fight?" They both nodded, faces ashen white. "Good. Ask your Rings for strength and speed," she suggested. "I'll hold them off. Hurry!" With that, the Englishwoman charged the advancing pig warriors. If she'd had the time to look back, she would have seen Dominique and Jean-Jacques close their eyes and whisper something that the wind would have taken from her ears. Then the pair would have clenched their fists, their rings glowing through the rainbow, thrown their heads back and begun changing.

The blonde would have recognised that Dominique's cream coat didn't stood a chance: the muscles bloating through her lean thighs tore it apart, closely followed by her billowing pecs and powered-up arms. She would have seen the Frenchwoman giggle as the snow tingled her rose-coloured nipples into hardness. She'd have gaped as Dominique experimentally flexed her biceps, watching as their peaks rose higher than her own, full of dense, veiny muscle. She would have bit her lip as she saw the puckered skin of Dominique's navel push out as pairs of awesome abs rippled onto her midsection, her shoulders burst into broad might, her calves turn into melon-sized mounds. She would have had to swallow to regain her composure. Incomparable beauty allied to, and subtly enhanced by, superhuman strength. If seduction did not work for the new Dominique, brutal violence certainly would.

Vanessa would not have paid attention to Jean-Jacques, even though his muscle growth was more explosive. Had she done so, though, she'd have seen huge slabs of strength emerge from his frame. She would have grinned as his clothes tore to shreds almost instantly, revealing a supreme Adonis beneath. She would have been impressed by the size of his pecs, the blocky bulges of his arms, and the pumping brawn of his legs. She would have seen him smile like an evil genius whose nemesis is strapped to the death ray.

But Vanessa saw none of that: she was protecting her colleagues from the pig creatures. She was like a whirling dervish, relying on brute strength and speed to take her through the hordes of monsters. A fist here, a kick there; a crack of a neck, sometimes. Each one was armed with a sword, a club or a mace, but nothing had come close to the blonde. Yet. Taking out the first ten or so had been easy, but made the others wary of engaging her. When Dominique and Jean-Jacques joined their colleague, both naked and effervescently strong, twenty of the monstrosities had surrounded her and were closing in.

Jean-Jacques picked up a twitching corpse and launched it at the army's strongest point, causing enough confusion for the two women to break up the rest of the sinister circle. "Kill them!" Vanessa cried, in French. "We have to get into that cave!"

Dominique was timid in her fighting at first, unsure – perhaps unaware – of her immense strength. However, as the battle wore on Vanessa caught glimpses of her driving her meaty fists through pig-faced skulls with brutal efficiency. Jean-Jacques had taken to brawling like a duck to water, using synapse and sinew in perfect combination to become the deadliest fighter on the team, pirouetting his way through scores of their opponents. The three Ringbearers were beating back the tide of ogres, making slow progress toward the cave as they did so. But the beasts kept coming.

The snow turned deep red.

"This is no use!" Vanessa shouted, wresting a sword away from a monster to her left and using it to stab one in front of her. "We need to think of something else!" As so often happens, the plan came to her as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "Yes!" she breathed, slicing her stolen weapon through a couple of bodies, not pausing to watch them slump to the floor. "Jean-Jacques!" she called. "I am going for the cave mouth!" "Understood!" he shouted back, whirling a mace through a crowd of ogres with his left hand and killing a couple more with the sword in his right. Vanessa whipped around to check on Dominique, and found her enthusiastically headbutting one of the beasts into a couple of its colleagues. She smiled wryly.

With a small grunt of effort, the blonde leaped up and landed on the head of one of the monsters in front of her. Before the creature toppled to the floor, she had jumped onto another's head. Within moments she had her rhythm and was running to the cave, using the beasts' heads as stepping stones. They crumpled under her muscular bulk, causing confusion everywhere. Vanessa made it to the base of the mountain before the ogres realised what was happening. From there, she leaped onto the sheer wall of the cliff, a little way away from where the pig warriors were still pouring out of the cave.

"Ring!" she thought as she clung on, wild with adrenalin, the snow still whipping into her face. "Make me the perfect natural climber!" Unusually, nothing happened: the ring didn't even change colours. Frowning, the musclewoman experimentally climbed a few feet. It was easy: the natural handholds and footholds instinctively came within her reach, and her grip strength was phenomenal. She laughed madly, drunk on her own brilliance, as she scaled the mountain like some bulked-up version of Spider Woman.

Once the blonde was within five feet of the cave mouth – still carefully to the right of it – she leaned out, one hand stuck to the rock. Her French companions were doing fine, still making headway against the army. She couldn't help staring with envy at Dominique's figure: still a statuesque beauty, only now one with superheroine level strength and splashes of gore on her naked body. And there was Jean-Jacques, the enigma, deep in his ballet of destruction. Her jaw went slack with admiration – it was as if he were playing some mad game of chess, always several moves ahead of his enemies.

The hanging heroine shook her head, readying herself to carry out the last part of her plan. She climbed to a point directly over the cave mouth, facing the ground hundreds of feet below. Using her superhuman grip, Vanessa swung herself, backwards, through the entrance to the cave, knocking down a row of the creatures. She twisted round to face the rest of the onslaught. A battalion of ogres had lined up to take her on. Grinning, she had just enough time to lean out of the cave and cry, "Come on up, guys!" before they attacked.

A good right dealt with the nearest bad guy, which she followed up with a strong left and a fierce kick to fell another couple of enemies. Diving to pick up a sword, she ran through a further two, testing the weight of the blade. Whilst her fighting was not as intuitive as Jean-Jacques's spellbinding technique, the blonde liked to think she could handle herself.

"Ring!" she thought, planting a foot square in the stomach of an onrushing ogre, sending it careening into a line of reinforcements, "how long can I keep fighting?" A short pause followed, which she used to stab a pig monster through the jugular. "One minute. Then the adrenaline loss will leave you on the point of collapse." Her eyes widened. "When will the others get here?" "Two minutes." A shockwave ran through Vanessa's body. "New plan," she said, backing away from the monsters and tearing off her clothes. Once the Ringbearer was naked, she gave her instruction to the Ring. "Make the front of my body blindingly bright for twenty seconds." "Close your eyes." Vanessa obeyed as the ring shone a stark yellow.

Even through her eyelids the blonde was momentarily caught off-guard by the blazing, battering light she was emitting. Counting the seconds down, she walked forward through the hordes. The heroine used their groaning and moaning to get a fix on each one and then swing her sword through their necks or bellies. When the flash ended, Vanessa slowly opened her eyes. She disposed of the enemies she had not yet killed with terrifying brutality, covering her muscular body in the beasts' blood. Grimacing, she poked a finger into her pouting navel and scraped out a daub of scarlet liquid. "I am going to need a shower," she announced.

The stunt had bought the Englishwoman some precious time. The rough walls of the cave narrowed considerably a pace or two ahead, so she piled up some of the beasts' corpses to block it off. More blood splattered onto her during the task, but Vanessa did not react. "Three years ago," she thought, "I would have screamed an avalanche." She smiled wryly. She stood back to admire her handiwork, feeling the adrenaline slosh away.

Vanessa felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around, all clenched fist and gritted teeth. Thankfully it was Jean-Jacques, his potent, larger-than-life muscles engorged with exertion. The heroine was impressed with the scope of his musculature: Hercules himself could not hold a candle to the man muscle mountain the Frenchman had become. Even without his awesome fighting instinct, Vanessa would have stood no chance against him. She risked the briefest glance at his penis, finding something beyond her wildest – and weirdest – dreams.

Dominique brought up the rear, half-running, half-bouncing. Pulchritudinous and powerful, she looked like some ancient totem to absolute femininity. Still, Vanessa couldn't stop herself blushing in sympathy. When the Frenchwoman caught up to the pair, it took a full five seconds for her to stop jiggling. She tossed her head impatiently, bringing her hair to life like a Baywatch actress. Vanessa broke the silence.

"I think you need a licence for those," she joked, in French. Dominique looked down at the immensity of her bosom, pushed out further than usual by her beefy pecs, and raised an eyebrow imperiously at the Englishwoman. "What do you mean?" Vanessa frowned quickly. "I… I just meant… er, you know…" The mighty maiden put her hands on her muscle-bloated hips and stared her English counterpart down. Jean-Jacques took a pace and planted his statuesque body in between them, reaching his arms to full stretch to separate them. Dominique looked livid. He turned his thick neck to look at them in turn.

"We must work together in this mission," he emphasised. "We have made it this far; we must continue on to vanquish the threat to our world. Now," he continued, once he was sure the pair would not come to blows, "help me dig out these corpses so we can progress." Vanessa nodded quickly. Dominique's eyes narrowed, but she agreed. "Note to self," Vanessa thought. "Never appear to challenge a woman whose thighs could crush diamonds."

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The trio cleared the wretched corpses cautiously, but their Rings told them there was nothing alive beyond. "We may not have killed them all," Jean-Jacques cautioned unnecessarily. "Be careful." Vanessa rolled her eyes, keeping her fury carefully in check. She would need to channel it properly later.  Dominique nodded, smiling faintly.

Each Ringbearer asked for the ability to see in the dark before they proceeded. The cave flickered into vivid greens and murky black. Jean-Jacques lead the way, with Dominique following and Vanessa to bring up the rear. The blonde could feel the blood congealing onto her body, under her fingernails, everywhere and anywhere she didn't want it to be. Clearing the blockage she had created had allowed the heroine to get her strength and breath back, but there was still tension in her muscles. She was carrying a long, curved broadsword in her right hand, drawing comfort from the way gripping it brought the veins in her forearm into prominence.

"Ring," Vanessa thought idly. "Why is it that night vision is always in green?" The Ring responded immediately: "Green is the easiest colour for the human eye to pick out." Vanessa's eyebrows rose. "Is that a fact?" "Yes," was the quick response. "Keep alert, Ringbearer."

The Ring's warning was needless, though: the caves were deserted. The passage narrowed considerably as the trio journeyed on, following its winding, rocky paths deeper into the mountain. The group reached the point where Jean-Jacques was too wide and had to turn to the side to move forward. At that stage Dominique took over the lead, which Vanessa was glad of. Following the Frenchwoman's perfectly sculpted back and butt was making her more jealous than she cared to think about. The second bonus was that she had an unrivalled chance to check out Jean-Jacques' gorgeous physique. Despite the arrogance of the man, she felt a tingling heat rise within her.

"Any more word on the source of the magic, Ring?" Vanessa asked in an effort to distract herself from the Frenchman's enormity. The physical ring flashed silver and gold. "We are within a hundred metres of the source," it claimed. The hairs on Vanessa's neck stood on end. "Guys!" she whispered. "We're very close. I think we should – " "Thank you Vanessa," Jean-Jacques interjected. "It is obviously imperative that we proceed with the utmost caution. Our enemies – as yet unknown, I remind you – possess magic that is beyond anything we could achieve ourselves. It is likely that there will be many more traps before we locate them."

The rage welling up inside her nearly made her want to hack his head off, but Vanessa managed to bite it down. She nodded with what she hoped was mild agreement. "Can I suggest that I take the lead?" the blonde asked. "If they take me out by surprise, that'll leave the two strongest people in the party to finish this." Jean-Jacques put his hand to his mouth and looked thoughtful. "Agreed," he said, after a moment. He stood back to let her pass. She smiled briefly at him. Dominique arched an eyebrow, but made a sweeping motion to indicate that she could take the lead. Vanessa nodded once.

The three Ringbearers continued through the murk, dark and dirt. The silence was oppressive. Vanessa's senses sharpened the more they walked. A bat flew a random jagged path in the distance, causing her to gasp and take a tighter hold of her sword. The others did not notice. Soon enough the cave widened out again to form what looked like a huge natural amphitheatre, stretching a hundred feet into the gloom. A series of wide ledges skirted the arena like scaffolding. The blonde could not see up to the highest three. Several torches lit the scene perfectly; Vanessa turned off her night vision.  She put her right hand out behind her to stop the others, inadvertently taking a handful of Dominique's right breast.

A fist like an anvil rocketed into the small of her back, knocking the Englishwoman flat to the floor. Her breath fled her lungs in a big choking rush, and her sword shattered the silence by flopping around like a fish. Jean-Jacques grabbed his countrywoman's wrist, stopping her from doing Vanessa any more damage. The blonde sat up, taking quick deep breaths, before searching on hands and knees for her weapon.

"Well!" a crowing female voice echoed down. All three Ringbearers' eyes searched wildly for its owner. "There!" Jean-Jacques cried, pointing to a figure standing proud on a ledge some sixty feet above them. It was difficult to judge given the perspective, but she must have been eight feet tall and nearly as wide. "The Ringbearers fight amongst themselves," she sneered. "A fine sight." Vanessa scrambled to her feet, fists itching. The woman above them ran for the edge and leaped off, spinning gracefully through the air like an Olympic diver. She landed on her feet in the centre of the arena.

The trio's jaws dropped simultaneously. The woman was magnificent: even Jean-Jacques' hypertrophied physique was a pale shadow of this woman's inhuman form. She was naked save for a black leather collar, somehow keeping her bull's neck in check. Her massive traps were threatening the material as well. Everything below her neck was built out of big blocks of superhuman strength: arms like breeze blocks tied together, pecs like computer printers, her abdomen a horror show of distended muscle. Her legs were immense, like the trunks of giant redwoods. Any trace of femininity she may once have had had been sacrificed on the altar of mass. Her peroxide blonde hair was cut into a short bob, but that was not the worst of it.

Her eyes were completely black.

"A Collarwearer," Jean-Jacques breathed, lowering his sword in awe.

— To Be Continued —

OK, the preview looks good… here we go! 😮

[stmercy2020]

Yipes!  and, um,  oops?

Fun story so far… looking forward to more!

[Cowprobe]

The increasing antagonism between the Ringbearers is nicely amped from their initial unfamiliarity.

Whether it is some eldritch force acting on their aggressions, the mental strain of hand to hand Ogre-mowing, or just their actual dislike the RB's are looking to become their won worst enemies.

Collar-Wearer.. daaammmnn  😮 Frightening adversary well worth the cliffhanger.

[Fonk]

Hi! Working on translating scat's stories – see Strength & Muscle Stories – gave me an appetite to get back to writing my own stuff. So here's the next episode.

The Claws Of Winter – Part 4

Vanessa Keates was petrified. Forgetting her sword, she scrambled back over to the others, scratching at her arm and looking uncomfortable. She stood in front of her colleagues, raising her head to look defiantly at the catastrophically mighty woman striding toward them. The Collarwearer exuded confidence, smiling leeringly at them all. She stopped a few feet away and addressed them in slightly accented English, which Vanessa labelled as “Russian”. “Yes, I am a Collarwearer,” she confirmed. “My name is Serena Firestone. You three must be Ringbearers. Our enemies.”

Jean-Jacques nodded warily, taking up position behind the women. “We saw your little display,” Serena continued, “outside, with the ogres. Most impressive, particularly you.” She indicated Vanessa with a disdainful finger. The Englishwoman shuddered. She strode towards the trio, who unconsciously shuffled closer to each other. Once she was a pace away, the gigantic woman leaned in to whisper: “But you cannot beat us.” She turned her vast, rippling back to them. Vanessa lost count of the muscles leaping up and out, begging for attention. “Tell them why, Big Boy.”

The Frenchman licked his lips nervously, looking wretched. “No man-made weapon can harm a Collarwearer.” On these words, the seed of an idea took root in Vanessa’s mind. She stored it for later, taking care not to change her expression. Dominique’s face, though, screwed up in anger – she took a step forward and punched Serena hard in the small of her back.

Pounds of rocky muscle delivered a blow that would have felled an elephant, but the only effect was that the Collarwearer took a step forward. As Dominique was winding up for a second punch, she whipped round, her black eyes even darker. She gritted her teeth, planted her feet and backhanded the Frenchwoman full in the face.

Blood arced forwards as Dominique flew back through the air, swiping Jean-Jacques as she went. She landed on her butt ten feet from where she had been standing. An ugly expression settled on her face as she spat out a couple of teeth, which her Ring regrew. “There’s no need to fight,” Serena whispered, underlining her words with an obvious second meaning. “Particularly as a fist is, of course, man-made. Now, follow me. I will take you to Fidelius. He will be delighted to know that I have captured you.”

“Don’t resist,” Jean-Jacques urged, pointlessly. Vanessa whipped round and glared at him. The Frenchman had the good grace to lower his head. “I have let you down,” he whispered as they fell in step behind their gigantic foe. A tear rolled silently down his cheek, but his expression did not change. “We aren’t beaten yet,” Vanessa said grimly.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

Serena led the three down a tunnel that had been cut out of the rock. It was fifteen feet tall and ten feet wide, arched at the top, like a train tunnel. Torches hanging on brackets lit the way, meaning there was no need for magic. All four had fallen silent, struggling with their thoughts. They moved in single file and had unconsciously arranged themselves as biggest to smallest. The Ringbearers were still carrying their weapons, clinging so hard that their hands were numb.

It was Serena that broke the silence in her deep, guttural voice. “She doesn’t know, does she?” she said over her shoulder to Jean-Jacques. “I – I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, with only a trace of defiance. Vanessa frowned. “Short one!” Serena called, eyes flickering maliciously at her. “My name is Vanessa Keates,” she muttered. “Very well, Vanessa,” she spat, “do you know where Big Boy here spent the night?” “His name is Jean-Jacques,” she smiled pleasantly. “Your names are of less than no importance!” Serena shouted.

Vanessa half-smiled, aware that on some sort of cosmic score-keeping system somewhere she had pulled something back. “‘Less than no importance’?” she quoted. “Like, negative importance? Is that even possible?” Serena sighed. “I could crush you like a worm in half a heartbeat, but that is not my master’s will,” she said flatly. “Let me ask you again: do you know where Jean-Jacques spent the night?”

“Don’t,” the Frenchman whispered, a real note of pleading in his voice. “He slept with Dominique,” she finished, and flashed a sickening smile over her shoulder at the stunned Englishwoman. Vanessa felt a sudden wave of disorientation, as if she was standing on the edge of a precipice, filled with shock and nausea. A lot of things began to slot into place. Her physical ring glowed fire red.

“You slimy cow,” Vanessa hissed at the waves of silky brown hair in front of her. “No wonder you wouldn’t listen to me! Treated me like a little kid!” Under the heat of her rage the Ring intoned the words “Do not act rashly, Vanessa”, but it was already too late. She had brought the pommel of her blade down, hard, onto Dominique’s skull.

There was a sickening crunch and a second blood fountain as the Frenchwoman crumpled. Jean-Jacques moved to hold Vanessa back as Serena tended to the wound. His huge twitching muscles held her easily in place. Her breasts heaved against his chest as she pushed the Frenchman against the rough walls of the cavern, causing an entirely natural reaction. “Couldn’t resist, could you?” she hissed.

“No,” he said, in a very small voice. “She is spellbinding, that’s how she works.” There was a pause. “She is concussed,” Serena purred, “but she will live.” The hulking woman straightened. “Lucky for you,” she said, drawing a finger across Vanessa’s cheek. “My master would never have believed that you had hit her, but I always kill my enemies.” “She deserved it,” Vanessa spat. Anger pulsed hard through her veins – she could hardly hear her Ring begging for calm.

“Slag,” she said, aiming a kick at Dominique’s side. Her foot came off worst, but she was too fired up to let it show. Jean-Jacques whirled the Englishwoman’s body around, uncomfortably trapping her against the walls of the passage. “You will calm down,” he hissed, veins popping up through his arms to show the effort it was taking to restrain the wild woman.

“Was she good?” Vanessa hissed. “Did you get a good feel of those heaving baubles of justice? Did you dream about her?” Serena loomed behind the Frenchman and slapped her smallest prisoner, business-like, in the face. The shock twisted her head and rammed her left cheek into the wall. Blood spattered her face. White hot rage exploded within her, turning her face ugly. “I swear I will see you dead!” she spat, voice rising at every new word.

Serena smiled, raising an indifferent eyebrow. “You are the smallest, weakest and ugliest of those present,” the Collarwearer drawled. “You will do nothing of the sort.” The fallen Frenchwoman wisely chose that moment to come to. She groaned loudly, feeling the wound on her head. She stood up, with Serena’s help, and went over to Vanessa, whose cheek was decorated with a thick scarlet line. “Let her go,” she nodded to Jean-Jacques, who reluctantly stepped aside.

The taller woman pressed her dramatic chest into her colleague’s. She smiled sweetly, two parts saccharine to one part fakeness. “I forgive you,” she declared. A shudder ran through Vanessa’s body. Her Ring finally made it through the fog that had clouded her brain. “If you do not calm yourself immediately I will render you unconscious,” it intoned, anger lacing its usual monotone.

“Sorry,” she thought. “That does not even begin to cover what you have just done,” the Ring replied haughtily. “Hey!” she growled back. “I need you to support me.” The Ring stopped communicating, its physical presence turning gunmetal grey. “Now that that’s sorted out, shall we continue?” Serena said brightly, gesturing onward. All wearing scowls, they followed their captor in sullen silence.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The journey lasted ten minutes or so. Serena brought them out into an enormous hollow, much larger than the one in which they’d first met her. A huge chorus of monks covered most of the rough ground ahead of them. Vanessa guessed that there were maybe three thousand of them, all dressed in the same black hooded robe, all stood round a central pillar. On the top of it – some twenty feet up – was a throne. Someone was sitting on it, holding a large staff made of well-worked and polished wood. He or she had their back to them for the moment.

The worst part was the chanting. All of the monks were singing, as one, the words “Winter without end” in French, over and over again. There didn’t seem to be any other words and it was deafening. For a stomach-churning moment, Vanessa wondered if the key to lifting the enchantment was to silence the monks by killing them. She shuddered. “Ring,” she thought questioningly. Her magical companion failed to respond. “Fine, sulk! Very mature!” she pouted. Serena separated from them, walking through the crowd of holy men to get to the central pillar.

She spread her arms up in supplication to the person on the throne. “Fidelius!” she cried. The chair twisted slowly. Its occupant was definitely male. He was naked too. “I have the Ringbearers!” she crowed. “They were surprisingly quick to surrender, unlike the fire and brimstone ones of yore!” The man stood and jumped to the floor in one smooth movement, scattering the nearest monks. It sent up a huge dust cloud, stopping a few of them singing. He scowled madly and, with one deep breath, sucked up the dust. Then, turning to the ceiling, he breathed it upwards in one thin, continuous stream. The chanting returned to full strength.

He strode towards them, using the staff as a walking stick, though he obviously didn’t need to. He was built like a rhino, nearly as wide as he was tall, all glistening muscle waiting to explode into action. Thighs like barrels, arms like cannons, a chest that could have doubled as a barn door. He too wore the black leather collar indicating his status as a Collarwearer around a neck as thick as Vanessa’s arm. His black hair was slicked back. His eyes were even worse than Serena’s: they were totally white. His staff seemed to shift unreally as Vanessa looked at it, as if it were somehow alive.

“My name is Fidelius Thunderbolt,” he announced, looking at each of the Ringbearers in turn. Despite the fact that he was whispering, his voice carried perfectly, again with that Russian accent. “I am a Collarwearer, like Serena here.” She appeared at his shoulder and ran a hand across his chest, drinking in the incredible power she found. He lowered his head slightly to kiss her pulsing forearm.

He flicked an eye at the terrified trio. “You three are a liability and must be stripped of your powers,” he announced. The Ringbearers backed away as he lifted his staff. A pulse of purple light appeared at its tip and, even as they turned to run away, it shot three thick, shining beams that held them in place. The eldritch glow surrounded their bodies and then sank inside them like water into a sponge. Vanessa’s eyes widened as she found herself shrinking.

“No!” she cried. “Oh yes, my dear,” Fidelius whispered. Her precious, beautiful muscles folded in on themselves, deflating like a football with a slow puncture. Her strong jaw slackened whilst her breasts started to weigh heavily on her chest. Her lats shrank as her back muscles popped away. Her rippling stomach lost its shape and burst outwards as a large mound of thick, veiny fat appeared, pushing her navel into an unpleasant shape. Vanessa started to cry as her weakened legs buckled, forcing her to the floor. She lost the four inches she’d gained over that magical weekend, and then it was done: she was back to the mousy, horribly unfit and directionless Vanessa Keates of eighteen months before. “Ring!” she thought desperately. “Ring, answer me! I really need you!”

Fidelius cackled like an evil genius in a cartoon, his creepy laughter echoing around the chamber, amplifying until it was terrifying. “It can’t hear you, my dear,” he crowed. “We have made it so.” Through tear-filled eyes she looked round at the others, who had suffered similar fates. She gasped at the girl who’d taken Dominique’s place, the one she must have been before she had used her Ring to change herself: she was one of the least appealing women the blonde had ever come across.

The busty warrior maiden had given way to a skinny – possibly anorexic – scrap of a girl whose ribs nearly poked through her skin. Her mammoth breasts had melted into nothingness: two dark brown misshapen areolae marked their passing.  Her limbs were like matchsticks; Vanessa thought she might even have trouble supporting her own weight. Her hair had turned lank and greasy, sticking to her face and shoulders. Her enchanting eyes were now hollow and dead, surrounded by dark bags. Her physical ring was almost slipping off her finger, having turned the same gunmetal grey as Vanessa’s.

Jean-Jacques had been completely stripped of his meaty muscles but other than that had not changed much from how he had appeared when they had first met. The difference was his eyes: previously alive and calculating, now dull and lifeless. His physical ring had gone grey too. He looked around him like a frightened rabbit, complete terror etched into every movement. As Vanessa looked in horror, he pissed himself in fear. She shut her eyes and looked away, trying to fight the tsunami of nausea in her flabby gut, but it was no use.

Tears brought great shudders to her soft body. Standing over them, the Collarwearers smiled victoriously. Serena threw a robe and belt at each of them. “Put these on,” she ordered. “You’re making me sick.” They did as they were told. Dominique was dwarfed by her robe, just as Vanessa’s had a little trouble containing her girth. “Take them away,” Fidelius commanded. Before she left, Serena kissed him deeply, exploring him with her tongue. She drooled down her chin.

Serena pulled her face away with a smack. “You,” she said disgustedly. “Follow me.” She paused just ten paces down the trail they’d walked down to get to Fidelius and waved her hand, palm flat, in a circle. A section of the rock lifted up like a portcullis, revealing a space the size of a bedroom. “In,” she pointed, and smiled wickedly as the trio did as they were told.

She waved her hand in the same way, causing the rock to close in on them. Then it went dark.

— To Be Continued —

I can't decide if there'll be one or two more parts, but either way, the end is in sight! I hope you liked reading this chapter, even though it contains some, er, whatever the opposite of FMG is (Female Muscle Shrinking? Female Muscle Loss?)! :-[

[Cowprobe]

Of the three Vanessa got off the easiest. Though she's corpulent she at least still has her wits AND enough intact motor capability to get something done.

So there's hope despite suddenly becoming physically below average for the trio.

Frightening cliffhanger that will keep my interest until the next installment.

Thanks for sharing.

[ze fly]

I hope you liked reading this chapter, even though it contains some, er, whatever the opposite of FMG is (Female Muscle Shrinking? Female Muscle Loss?)! :-[

I sure did and can't wait to see what follow… 🙂

[Lupus14]

I just hope this has a happy end and that Vanessa drains the collarwearers of their strength!

[GTSKate]

Excellent so far, Fonk!  Thanks for sharing this!

But remember, the BEST giantesses (or Amazons, for that matter) are the ones who are strong INSIDE, as well as out.  Come on, Vanessa!  Show us that you didn't get that ring by accident!

-Kate

[Fonk]

OK, so, I decided to make it six parts. I like the number six. 😉

The Claws Of Winter – Part 5

Vanessa Keates was broken. She kept running through the events that had led to their capture, seeing if there was anything she could have or should have done to prevent it. The blonde decided they had been badly unprepared, and that had proved their undoing. She had lost track of the time they'd spent in the darkness. It made no difference if they had their eyes open or closed, but Vanessa's were closed. She had shuffled into a corner and tried not to make too much noise with her tears.

Dominique had muttered for what felt like hours, her beautiful, melodic voice reduced to a rasping choke. Having lost all the knowledge of French the Ring had given her, Vanessa only understood about one word in five. She had talked about herself a lot – "Je" was easy to recognise – and a lot about something she'd lost, possibly. She also said "i.e." a few times.

Jean-Jacques had been silent; Vanessa guessed he'd gone to sleep. She didn't crawl over to him to check – she had realised that the chamber was air-tight, so she was trying to keep her movements to a minimum. The air was thin yet humid, reeking of sweat and urine. Her heavy stomach grumbled occasionally, breakfast now feeling like it had taken place in another world, another life. She curled into a ball and tried to sleep.

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The light was blinding, uncomfortable. She blinked furiously, raising a hand to block it out. Serena was standing in the doorway, grinning magnificently. "Ah, my pets!" she cried, excitedly. Vanessa frowned: the Collarwearer's voice sounded odd, as if two people were speaking at once. She turned her head to listen intently. "I have something for you." At the limit of the audible the Ringbearer managed to make out that Serena was somehow saying the same words in French.

She flung three small bread rolls into the dirty prison. "Bon appetit," she mocked. Bowing to them, she resealed the chamber with a wave, enshrouding them in darkness again. The Ringbearers had each scrambled to grab a roll before scuttling back to their corners. Vanessa heard rhythmic scraping sounds as one of her companions wiped the dirt off their roll, but she was too hungry and ate it all in two bites. Dominique said something; Jean-Jacques laughed.

Vanessa shifted to a comfortable position and tried not to think as the others munched through their rolls. Jean-Jacques spoke for the first time: his voice was coarse and quick, but Vanessa thought she could recognise some of the words. "Faut," she thought. "That means 'must'. 'She-eh'? What does that mean?" She mulled over the word – or words – for a moment before a sound made her dry heave. The Frenchman was crapping in the corner of their jail.

"Oh, God, stop!" she thought. Vanessa saw a brief flicker of light through her screwed-up eyes and Jean-Jacques did, indeed, stop. Her eyes sprang open and she looked down at her Ring. Her jaw dropped as she saw it cycle through red and green and purple and blue. Dominique and Jean-Jacques looked at their own Rings for signs of life, but they were still the uninspiring gunmetal grey colour of earlier. Their shock turned to jealousy as they both stood in the dim light cast by the sparkling Ring, their expressions ice and rage.

A dazzling flash stopped them. Vanessa's Ring was projecting an image in an upside down cone of light. It was a man, the size of an Action Man figure. He was dressed in a stereotypical wizard's costume, minus the hat, and had the appearance and bearing of Richard Harris's Dumbledore from the early Harry Potter films. "Be still," it said gently. Through the shock Vanessa noticed that it was speaking with the same duality Serena had shown earlier. "We do not have much time."

Vanessa's companions settled down, staring at the tiny figure. "The Collarwearers plan to extort money from the world's governments in order to – " "Who are you?" Vanessa interrupted. The image smiled indulgently. "I am named Gawain of Sale," he replied. "I am the essence of your Ring." A frown rippled along her brow as the words sank in. "But you're not speaking in monotone!" "Of course not," the image said, shaking fizzing slightly out of focus before righting itself. "I believe I said we have little time?" Vanessa looked sheepish.

"As I was saying, the Collarwearers plan to extort money from the world's governments to further their evil schemes. I have been unable to deduce how they are causing the eternal winter – it is magic beyond my knowledge. What is certain is that you three must break the spell before the United Nations caves in to the Collarwearers' demands." "And how will we do that?" Dominique said sourly. Vanessa looked at her happily. "I can understand you!" she cried. "It is the least I could do," Gawain smiled.

"My dear, you will achieve this apparently lofty goal by the use of cunning, wit and, of course, considerable brawn," he continued.  "I have been given authorisation to take Vanessa to the limits of what is possible with the human body. I know that she has a plan to deal with your foes, and I will be able to assist her in its execution. After that, it will be up to you to destroy the spell and restore order to your world. Do you understand?" The three nodded in turn.

"Good," Gawain said. "Now, I sense that you are full of curiosity. You may each ask me one question, which I will answer to the best of my ability. Then I must take my leave." Vanessa went first: "Why aren't Dominique's and Jean-Jacques's Rings working?" "Their Rings have essences too," the tiny man replied. "It has been difficult to break the magical barrier placed on our current forms by your foes, so we were obliged to pool our resources into one of you. We chose Vanessa, as the most experienced."

"Will we all be able to regain our powers?" Dominique asked, notes of fear playing in her voice. Gawain nodded. "As soon as the Collarwearers are dealt with, the magical impediments that they have placed upon us will cease and you can return to your enhanced forms." The magician nodded gently towards Jean-Jacques. "And you, young man?" He cleared his throat. "What happened to my mother?" The two women looked at him, their jaws slack. Then they exchanged glances. Gawain looked wretched.

"This is most unfortunate," the apparition sighed disconsolately. "It is as you have always suspected: your mother committed suicide." Vanessa gasped, but Jean-Jacques just nodded, once, firmly. "Thank you," he whispered. Gawain smiled sadly for a few moments before gathering himself. "I must take my leave of you," he announced. "The magic is ready: once I have disappeared, Vanessa will start to grow. You must make room for her." He smiled patiently as the others scuttled as far away as they could.

"Vanessa," Gawain said, simply, "all our hopes rest on you. Win." "But – " It was already too late: the cone of light was receding into her Ring, taking its essence with it, leaving only enough light to see. True to his word, once the image had gone, Vanessa's whole body started to expand. She doubled over, grunting. Her previous growth had been gentle, almost unnoticeable. This time, it felt like she had stepped into a volcano.

Firstly, gratifyingly, her belly flattened out, vague lines of strength appearing on the surface of her abdomen. For an instant Vanessa had a model's body; then the changes rushed on. Time being of the essence, the Rings had decided to make all their desired changes at once, so the blonde was being made stronger, taller and curvier. And it was painful.

Vanessa's B-cups ballooned, pushing against the fabric of the robe. Her shapeless shoulders took on size, raising the filthy garment around her lengthening, strengthening neck. As she grew taller, more of her legs appeared: initially dimpled with fat, they were quickly endowed with the lean muscles of an athlete, before exploding into the blocky bulges of a bodybuilder. Her narrow arms took on the task of filling out the robe's sleeves.

As she grew in all available dimensions the others cheered. The Ringbearer was gasping for every breath as searing pain rushed through her from head to foot and back again. She fought to stand up, out of the way of the others. "'The limits of what is possible with the human body,'" she said to herself as she leaned on the jagged rocks behind her. "Hope it's safe…"

The fantastical transformation was easier to see now Vanessa was standing up. Her gorgeous breasts, backed by the expansion of two very powerful pectorals, had pushed the robe open at the top. The belt – which the blonde had tied tight around her waist – was keeping the lower portion of her torso under wraps for the moment. Dominique and Jean-Jacques had to content themselves with the sight of Vanessa's top two abs developing generous definition. It was like stop-motion animation as they pushed up onto the surface of her stomach and then carved out their impressions upon it.

As her limbs grew longer, more and more of her forearms made it into the light. Veins trailed up and down like ant tracks, thickening and coiling as her muscles expanded. Hidden under the sleeves, her upper arms started to make their presence felt. The robe had clearly not been designed with people of these dimensions in mind. Vanessa's hips flared to allow her rocket legs to take on more muscle. She reached and quickly passed six feet in height.

On top of the growth Vanessa was becoming beautiful. Her skin was smoothing out and developing a healthy, vital tan. Her cheekbones were becoming prominent as her lips plumped out. Her dirty blonde hair lengthened in sensual swoops. Her apple-shaped body was turning itself inside out to make the world's most powerful hourglass figure, rounding out her butt and repositioning her burgeoning breasts into the bargain.

At seven feet tall the robe was seriously losing the fight. The belt was on the point of tearing apart and the sleeves were tight with muscle, drawing the garment up to try and cover breasts the size of watermelons. Her nipples, the size of corks, were poking through. Any involuntary flex or spasm would do, and that's what happened: the blonde tightened her abs, the belt burst and with a sigh the Amazon's torso was revealed. Vanessa wriggled out of the garment and felt it spool up behind her.

Freedom was the key. The Ring glowed fierce bright and powered its wearer to heights she had never dreamed of. Past eight feet tall and quickly through to nine, she towered over her astounded colleagues. Far stronger than she'd ever been, too. Her thick muscles outshone those she'd had at the start of the day, and they would not stop growing. Even standing at ease, Vanessa's arms displayed outstanding size. Her torso widened to allow her pecs and abs to bulge into new, raw, supreme shapes.

Vanessa reached out mentally, exploring the crushing waves of power rushing through her body, revelling in the way they got stronger as she went. The actual process was still causing throbbing, searing pain to tear through her frame, but she was now equipped with the strength to stand tall. To Dominique and Jean-Jacques, it was as if their colleague was growing from a sapling into a mighty oak tree, sprouting intense strength as she shot upwards.

The Ringbearer spread her arms wide and pulled an earth-shattering double biceps pose. Two mighty, jutting boulders ripped up and out, topped off with split head peaks that rose as they watched. Vanessa turned her bull's neck to kiss both of them. She reached down to her pecs, feeling their sweet contours under and around her insanely inflating breasts. Jean-Jacques had to turn away.

The final surge of change made Vanessa's knees buckle. She fell heavily into a kneeling position, putting her mammoth calves to good use. She levelled off at twelve feet tall, her thick dirty blonde hair slaloming down her quivering, rippling back to just above her tight, power-packed butt. Her neck was lost amongst traps like the biggest hams you could ever wish to see, caroming into delts with the classic cannonball shape, though they were the size of basketballs.

The blonde knew that there was more power in her arms than her entire body had previously held, and it showed. It looked as though someone had stuffed the largest rocks they could find under her skin – every time she shifted her arms they came to life as the eye-watering blocks of power danced their way through the motion. Her chest had gone off the scale: beach ball sized boobs rose and fell hypnotically with each breath, complete with perfect hard, tan nipples. The astounding breastflesh was kept in check by pecs beyond imagination.

Trailing down the rest of her torso were abs the size of DVD boxes, though far thicker. As Dominique stared at her colleague's hyper physique, she realised she could fit most of her hand in between the grooves of Vanessa's abdominal grid. Her navel looked like a smudge made by a thumb in concrete. Slowly the more-than-superwoman got to her giantess feet, bringing everything about her legs into sharp relief.

And there was a lot to bring. Thicker around than the proverbial tree trunks, Vanessa realised that she could have hidden her comrades behind them. Her quads were hunks of rock you would need many pairs of hands to span, streaks of veins lining the beyond immense muscle. Her calves ballooned out inhumanly, reaching nearly as far behind her body as her perfectly rounded ass.

"You have ten minutes," a blessedly familiar voice rang in her mind. "Welcome back, Vanessa. Make us proud." She nodded. One missile strike fist later and the rock that enclosed them had become sand. Vanessa's colossal frame protected the others from harm. Her features betrayed the wrath she was about to dole out, but despite the anger and rage flooding her entirety the rebelliously geeky part of her brain had its moment.

"It's clobbering time," she grinned.

— To Be Concluded —

Thanks for all your replies of support, guys, it's very appreciated. 😀

[stmercy2020]

Geeky superheroics! 😀  How very cool!

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