The Witch's Lair (Patreon)

(Full Story)

Note: This is a standalone story. Also, it’s not based on the witch from my animations…

Disclaimer: This one gets pretty weird. If you’re not into ball-swelling, I’d stop half way through…



The dungeon was as dark and dank as one might expect a witch’s lair to be. As Rodrik surveyed the scene with the light of his flaming torch, he was overcome with a sense of disgust and dismay.

An array of heretical arcane artefacts scattered the stone walls of the lair, their shadows flickering as the torchlight passed by them. Goblin skulls, demonic amulets and enchanted crystals were but a few of the items that littered the various wooden shelves.

In the centre of the dungeon stood a black, bubbling cauldron, surrounded by a collection of colourful potions and torn-up pages citing ingredients, rituals and so on.

“What foul sorcery could this devil possibly be brewing?” Rodrik murmured, mostly to himself, his fingers curling around the hilt of his longsword.

“Nothing we can’t put a stop to,” Anja emerged from the dark, appearing by Rodrik’s side. She was a slight, young-looking woman, wrapped in a leathery-brown cloak, which hid her slender figure. Standing next to Rodrik, she could have been mistaken for a dwarf, though in reality, Rodrik was simply a mountain of a man and dwarfed anyone that stood beside him.  

Anja was a huntress by trade and specialised in tracking down monsters, hence having just located the witch’s lair. Rodrik, on the other hand, was a mercenary who just so happened to specialise in killing such monsters. Over the years, the two had formed a tight, mutually-beneficial partnership, accepting dozens (if not hundreds) of quests, where Anja would track the beast and Rodrik would slay it. The rewards were typically split 60-40 to Rodrik, however, given he was the one that did ‘the hard work’, or so he said.

Of course, being in such close proximity to one another for so long, and often facing life and death situations together, had formed a strong bond between the two. On more than one occasion, this bond had slipped beyond the confines of their professional relationship, though they never let their personal feelings interfere with their work. When they were on the job, they were strictly professional.

That being said, Anja did find herself feeling a little aroused whenever she’d witness Rodrik in a fight. There was something about the bloody battle to the death that excited her, though she’d never tell him that. Such thoughts were impure, after all.

“Any sign of where she might be hiding?” Rodrik asked her, keeping his eyes on the shadows.

“Her scent is all over this place,” Anja sniffed, “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact…”

Anja was abruptly cut off by a malicious cackling, which echoed around the dungeon’s stone walls. Rodrik drew his sword immediately, his eyes darting about the room, trying to locate the source of the sinister noise.

Sensing a sudden presence nearby, Anja spun around. A translucent figure, barely noticeable as it shimmered in the torchlight, was positioned directly behind the hulking mercenary.

“Rodrik, watch out!”

The warning came too late. Rodrik let out a gargled cry, his sword dropping from his hand and clattering to the floor. Evidently, the attack had caught him off-guard.

Anja looked to see where he was injured, noticing a crumpled indent in the crotch region of his leather slacks. Unfortunately for Rodrik, to prevent his mobility from being hindered too greatly, it was one of the few places his gleaming metallic armour did not protect.

Producing a sparkling green powder from one of the pouches on her utility belt, Anja spat out a speedy enchantment and blew the powder towards the translucent figure, engulfing it. After a moment, the invisibility spell was broken, and the witch was finally revealed, her high-heeled boot still firmly lodged between Rodrik’s legs, a smirk on her lips. She was half-naked, with her breasts exposed and only a thin loincloth covering her lower half.  

The witch withdrew, disappearing into, what looked like, a cloud of dust, then suddenly rematerialised beside the cauldron. She hoisted herself up and rested on its edge, crossing one leg over the other, and looking at the two intruders with amusement.

The mercenary had fallen to his knees, clutching his manhood with one gauntleted hand and reaching down for his sword with the other. The huntress was looking at him, though the witch couldn’t quite read whether her expression was one of concern or… Something else.

“A sense a darkness in you, young one,” The witch directed her attention to the huntress.

“Quiet, demon,” Anja snapped, glaring at the witch. It was hard to guess her age. She appeared to be a middle-aged woman, with ash-grey skin, piercing yellow eyes and long, flowing black hair, but Anja knew all too well that such demonic magic-users were often far more ancient, “Any darkness in me is far outweighed by your sins.”

“Certainly, dear, but we all start somewhere…” The witch let out another ear-splitting cackle, suddenly producing a potion in either hand.

Rodrik was still clambering back to his feet when the vials were hurled towards him, shattering at his feet and releasing a thick purple gas-like substance. Before he could act, the gas, which moved as if it were alive, circled the two partners, invading their ears, mouths, eyes and nostrils.

Both Rodrik and Anja fell into a fit of coughing and spluttering as the substance entered their lungs. It wasn’t painful, but it was still somewhat suffocating. As the potion spread through them, the witch chanted a foreign incantation, and clapped her hands. With a thunderous crack, a blast of air exploded from her, rattling the wooden shelves and knocking the two intruders off their feet. Finally, the suffocating sensation had passed.

“What did you do?” Anja moaned, clearing her throat.

“I did you a favour,” The witch replied, stepping from off the cauldron and walking towards them, the clacking of her heavy heels growing louder with each step, “I’ve brought you both… A little closer together.”

“What are you babbling about, fiend?” Rodrik grumbled, raising his head, only to see the witch’s boot hurtling towards his face. The pointed tip almost took his eye out as it smashed against his face, knocking him off-balance and onto his back with a metallic clatter.

“Why, allow me to demonstrate…” The witch, now looming above Rodrik, casually kicked his legs apart and pressed her boot down on top of his balls. Rodrik, already a little sore from the first attack, groaned in agony.

“Get off him, you sadistic…” Anja went to lunge for the witch, but was suddenly stopped in her tracks by a most unusual feeling. A warm, tingling sensation spread through her lower region, and she felt her cheeks go red. A slight, high-pitched moan escaped her lips, and she instantly clasped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, what was that, deary?” The witch shot Anja a sly grin, revealing her pointed fangs. As she did so, she raised her foot from Rodrik, just briefly, before slamming it back down again.

Both Rodrik and Anja cried out in unison, however it was clear Rodrik’s cry came from a place of pain, whereas Anja’s did not. Her legs crossed as she felt a shiver of pleasure run through her.

“What’s happening to me?” She breathed.

“Your sensations are now tied to one another. Whenever he feels pain, you feel pleasure. A slap on the face for him, a kiss on the cheek for you. A kick in the balls for him…” The witch gave Rodrik a swift kick, prompting another orgasmic moan from Anja, “Well, you get the idea.”

“Your sick perversion has no limits!” Anja wailed as she tried to get a handle on her emotions. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and she suddenly felt very hot. She loosened her cloak and let it drop to the floor, revealing a leather corset and woollen tights beneath.

“Oh, this is just simple amusement for me, my dear,” The witch stepped back from Rodrik and waved a pointed finger towards him, spurring some magical force to lift him to his feet, “I believe it is you who are corrupt with such… Indecent thoughts.”

“What is she talking about, Anja?” Rodrik gasped, still suspended in the air by the witch’s magic, his limbs spread wide and frozen in place.

“I don’t know, she’s insane. She talks nonsense!” Anja could feel her entire face turning red. As the pain still lingered within Rodrik’s testicles, so too did the incredible sensation between her own legs.

“Very well,” The witch snarled, “I’ll give you a choice.”

With a snap of her fingers, a series of dark metallic chains took shape above her, attaching themselves to the ceiling before firing down towards both her and Rodrik, wrapping individually around each of their limbs. With their wrists and ankles each bound, the chains hoisted both she and Rodrik up from the floor, suspending them in the air and holding them in an ‘X’ position, their arms and legs spread out uncomfortably, facing towards Anja.

“Either pick up that sword and run me through,” The witch gestured towards Rodrik’s sword, which lay uselessly beneath his feet, “Or allow yourself to indulge in life’s pleasures for a while, and let yourself loose for once.” She nodded her head towards the restrained mercenary, who had already started sweating.

Anja looked to the sword, then to Rodrik’s crotch. His slacks had been smudged with dirt from the witch’s boot. Just seeing such a sight made her tingle all over.

“Maybe just… A short indulgence,” Anja whispered. It had been so long since she’d last felt such pleasure, she couldn’t actually remember the last time.

“Anja, don’t let her manipulate you!” Rodrik growled, as she began to approach him.

“Just a quick moment, that’s all. Then I’ll deal with her, I promise.”

“Anja…” Rodrik writhed in his chains as, off to his side, the bound witch smirked to herself.

“I’ll be gentle, honest…” Anja stood directly before Rodrik. Thanks to the chains lifting him, his crotch was roughly aligned with her chest, which heaved beneath her tight corset as her anticipation rose, her breath starting to quicken.

She reached out with one hand and cupped his manhood delicately. The mercenary twitched a little, and she couldn’t help but find it funny seeing such a beast of a man squirm from such a light touch.

Frankly, there wasn’t a whole lot down there for her to cup anyway. Whilst Rodrik had been blessed with great strength, he had been less blessed below the belt. During their more intimate encounters, Anja had always enjoyed observing his physique, but his actual lovemaking had always left something to be desired. Thanks to them often travelling together, it had been difficult for her to attract the attention of others too, as they were all often intimidated by Rodrik’s stature. As a result, satisfying sexual encounters had been hard to come by over the last few years.

Consciously or not, it was this trail of thought that Anja used internally to justify herself as she began to gently squeeze Rodrik’s little plums. Locating one of his testicles, she rolled it carefully between her thumb and forefinger, prompting more squirming from the mercenary. As she continued the motion, it felt as if a warm, ethereal finger was caressing her clit, gliding over her and sending shivers down her spine.

“That’s enough, Anja!” Rodrik sputtered, trying to maintain his composure, though definitely not succeeding.

“Of course. Just one second…”

The huntress wasn’t really paying attention to him anymore. Instead, she wrapped her fingers beneath the mercenary’s meagre sack, so that his nuts were resting in the palm of her hand, then began to squeeze, slowly closing her fingers into a fist.

Rodrik gargled and the witch stifled a laugh. Anja tightened her grip. The harder she squeezed, the greater the sensation she felt. She could feel her panties turning wet with pleasure.

“Just a little more…”

Anja brought in her second hand and adjusted her grip. She now had one tiny testicle in each hand and was squeezing as hard as she could. She let out a quivering moan. It was like someone was inside of her, someone with far more skill, and girth, than Rodrik. Meanwhile, the mercenary kicked his legs and thrashed his arms as the pain continued to intensify, the chains holding him firmly in place.

Finally, the huntress released her vice-like grip and Rodrik took a gasp of air, as if he’d just been submerged beneath water. Anja staggered backwards and keeled over, covering her crotch with both hands as her body trembled with orgasmic pleasure.

“How could you do this?” Rodrik, understandably angry, wanted to shout at her, but it came out as more of a pathetic whimper.

“Forgive me, I… It’s just been so long since I…” Anja couldn’t find the words to explain herself.

“This is your fault, witch,” Rodrik turned his attention to the demonic being still chained up beside him, “Release her from your control at once!”

“Oh, she’s under no spell of mine,” The witch chuckled, “Not besides that which is… Connecting you both. No, she is acting entirely of her own free will.”

“What?” Rodrik looked at Anja, puzzled. The huntress went red with embarrassment and averted her gaze, “Surely she lies?”

“Well…” Anja didn’t know what to say.

“Please, tell me this whorish behaviour is not your own?”

“I believe he just called you a whore, dear…” The witch interjected.

She was right, that was exactly what the mercenary was implying, and it pissed Anja off. Almost as if from nowhere, a fiery anger washed over her. How dare he say such a thing? After all she’s done for him, after all she’s put up with…

Without thinking, Anja lashed out, firing a straight punch directly into Rodrik’s genitals. The man coughed out a fine mist of spit, clearly not expecting the sudden attack. The huntress left her fist there for a moment, keeping it pressed up against Rodrik’s squashed manhood and enjoying the fresh wave of pleasure that flew through her.

“Bastard,” She murmured, “Can’t you let me enjoy myself, just once?”

Her words were barely audible over Rodrik’s agonised cries, though the witch heard her well enough.

“That’s it, yes. Enjoy yourself, you deserve this.”

Fuelled by both her irritation towards the mercenary and, admittedly, a lustful desire, she fired a second fist into Rodrik’s crotch, followed by another, and another, alternating between each fist faster and faster. Each hit delivered a fresh shot of pain to Rodrik, and an increasingly powerful wave of pleasure for Anja.

After the first few hits had landed, the huntress couldn’t contain herself anymore. With each blow she cried out, her ecstatic moans rivalling the terrible screams coming from the mercenary as she allowed herself to express the orgasmic experience.

“Oh yes, this is the most amazing thing I have ever felt!” She gasped as she climaxed, possibly for the second time now. It was so much better than anything Rodrik had ever made her feel.

“Anja, please, stop… I beg you,” Rodrik’s voice was cracked and broken, much like his manhood likely was. Anja was still pummelling him relentlessly, as if in a trance, “Please, I can’t take any more!”

Eventually, Anja did stop, but it wasn’t because Rodrik wanted her to. She was simply exhausted. Not one to typically engage in combat, her arms weren’t used to such intense exertions, and they ultimately fell limply at her sides as she panted, trying to catch her breath. Needless to say, her panties were now soaked through.

“All tired out?” The witch asked, smiling down at Anja from above.

“I… I can’t believe… Oh…” With her energy completely spent, the ecstasy started to fade, and she began to gain some clarity on the situation.

She looked up at Rodrik. His body convulsed and spasmed, his eyes having rolled back into his head as he struggled to remain conscious.

“Rodrik, I’m sorry I…” Anja didn’t know what to say. Whilst she had felt justified in the moment, all she felt now was guilt. Rodrik was a colleague, a friend. How could she have done this to him?

“You… You…” Rodrik struggled to form any cohesive words, saliva spilling from his mouth, “You filthy bitch…”

The short phrase cut deep. Anja had never heard the mercenary use such language, certainly not towards her. The guilt in her rose, up and up, and she actually felt tears well in her eyes.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, dear,” The witch suddenly snapped her fingers. Her chains vanished, though Rodrik’s remained, and she glided down to the floor, “I’m afraid it is ‘he’ that is the problem.”

“But I…”

“Poor thing. You’ve repressed yourself so much, you can hardly comprehend what you’re feeling,” The witch’s empathy was almost believable, “Here, take these…”

From behind her back, the witch produced two more potions, both liquids, one green, one blue.

“What… What are they?” Anja asked with a blend of apprehension and curiosity.

“Strength and stamina,” The witch replied, shaking the glass vials so that the liquids frothed in enticing swirls, “They’ll keep you going.”

“I’m not sure I… I think I should stop…” Anja looked the wheezing mercenary up and down, “He’s had enough, anyway…”

“Nonsense!” The witch hurled the vials up into the air and, with her hands free, delivered a playful (but hard) slap to Rodrik’s balls, before catching the vials again. Anja let out another involuntary, excited gasp as renewed pleasure throbbed within her loins. Rodrik yelled, his balls already throbbing, “See? He’s got some fight left in him.”

The witch chucked the vials over to the huntress, who just barely caught them. Before she could even try to refuse, the witch grabbed hold of the mercenary’s swollen sack and began squeezing rhythmically, sending incredible, pulsing waves of delight throughout Anja.

“C’mon, this is the only chance you’ll ever get…” The witch tightened her grip as she grinned at Anja, watching as the intensity of her pleasure visibly increased.

“Maybe just a little more…” Anja uncorked both vials with her thumbs and hesitantly lifted the green potion to her lips. It smelled pleasant enough, like apples, so she took a small sip.

And a small sip was all she needed. Almost immediately, the aching in her tired arms vanished, her breathing steadied and she suddenly felt invigorated, like she’d just awoken from the best rest of her life.

“Wow, this stuff really works!” She exclaimed, her hesitance now a distant memory, immediately proceeding to take a swig from the blue strength potion.

A shockwave of, what felt like, electrical energy sent Anja’s body into a quaking mess. The sudden shock caused her to cry out, however it was not painful, just strange. Her entire figure tensed, and she could feel her muscles bulge and flex. Her calves rippled beneath her tights and, as she glanced at her arms, she saw her biceps shift. They weren’t simply flexing, they were growing!

The immediate gain of muscle mass caused her already tightly-bound corset to tear open, allowing her suffocated breasts to burst out.

“Eek!” She squealed, instinctively moving to hide her chest with hands as the remains of her corset dropped to the floor.

“No need for embarrassment. Let yourself be free,” The witch sighed, raising her arms above her head and arching her back in an exaggerated stretch, showing off her own naked bosom.

Actually somewhat comforted by the witch’s apathy towards her nakedness, Anja managed a small smile and lowered her hands. She had to admit, it always felt good letting her girls breathe.

“Now, how about it? Let’s put those muscles to good use, shall we?” The witch said, stepping aside and gesturing towards Rodrik’s battered groin. The man was still groaning from her recent, violent groping.

As Anja positioned herself in front of the helpless Rodrik once more, an internal battle raged within her. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but at the same time, it just felt so right. The witch hadn’t been lying earlier, this was indeed the only time she’d ever get to experience anything like this. Already, the pleasure she had felt had far surpassed her wildest imaginations. It was indescribable, incomparable, and intoxicating. In that moment, she needed no further convincing, though she accepted she may come to regret it later.

The uppercut she delivered was effortless, and paradoxically, one of the most powerful attacks she’d ever thrown. The veins in her now-muscular arm throbbed and bulged as the bones of her knuckles dug deep into Rodrik, flattening his already-bruised sack up into his pelvis.

There was an audible crack. Rodrik didn’t even make a sound, he was out cold. Anja screamed in ecstasy. The power gifted to her from the strength potion had made a huge difference to the amount of damage she could dish out and therefore, in return, pleasure she could receive. She was already on the verge of orgasm, again.

Without a second thought, she excitedly threw another uppercut, now with her other arm, to follow up the attack. Again, it smashed into Rodrik’s groin with incredible force, his limp body jerking from the impact. This time, however, Anja herself felt nothing.

Confused, she tried again, another brutal uppercut. Nothing. She tried once more. Still nothing.

“Uh… I think the spell has worn off?” Anja looked at the witch, a little sheepishly.

“Hmm… No. That spell can only be broken with magic,” The witch mused, dramatically stroking her chin, “I think the shock might’ve killed him.”

“What?!” Anja exclaimed, the thought devastating her. She never meant for anything like that to happen! “That’s impossible, right? How can he be dead?!”

“Seems his puny nuts couldn’t take it. The pain was too much for him,” The witch rubbed her hand over Rodrik’s crotch, trying to assess the damage. It was immediately clear to her that his manhood had been completely demolished.

“No, no. This can’t be happening,” Anja started to panic, “Do something, please! There must be something you can do!”

“Hmm…” There was no question that the witch was milking the situation, she loved seeing humans in such distress, “I suppose there is one thing I can do…  However, my services aren’t all free, you know.”

“Name your price,” The huntress said, she had plenty of gold from her previous escapades with Rodrik.

“You must pledge allegiance to me, and become my… Apprentice,” The witch said, narrowly avoiding the word ‘slave’.

“Excuse me?” Such a demand was unexpected.

“You heard me,” The witch smiled, eyeing Anja up and down, admiring her toned figure, “I must admit you have great… Potential.”

“What happened to letting yourself be free?” Anja scoffed, recalling their previous conversation.

“Well, that was before you killed your so-called friend here and found yourself in need of my help,” Anja was still clearly not entirely convinced, so she continued, “Or you can leave him here to rot and I’ll use his bones to fuel my dark magic. Your choice, dear. It makes no difference to me…”

“Fine.”

Perhaps somewhat caught up in the moment, out of desperation and guilt, Anja reluctantly agreed to the witch’s terms. Upon simply uttering her acceptance, a strange tattoo etched itself into her forearm. It was some sort of occultist symbol. Anja winced.

“Don’t worry, that’s just proof of your allegiance to me. And also, well, prevents you from leaving here without my permission…” The witch hurriedly muttered the latter part, swiftly moving on before Anja had time to question her, “Now, to find that resurrection spell…”

The witch fished around inside of a large wooden chest sitting beside the cauldron, tossing out various exotic items as she did so until eventually locating an old, crusty tome. Anja watched on in nervous silence as the demon placed a hand on the still-suspended yet lifeless Rodrik, chanting in an ancient tongue as she clasped the tome closely.

Anja breathed a sigh of relief as the colour slowly returned to Rodrik’s face, and his body began to twitch back to life. Whilst she was mostly relieved that her long-time partner was no longer dead, there was still a small, sadistic part of her that was simply excited by the notion of being able to continue to assault his junk.

“Is he going to be ok?” Anja asked timidly as the mercenary began gulping for air.

“Well, apart from having just experienced the horrors of the afterlife, he should be fine,” The witch smiled, though it was not an especially comforting one, “I’ve even healed his balls for you.”

“Uh… That wasn’t why…” The witch winked at Anja and she went red again, stuttering and stammering, “I’m just glad he’s not dead…”

“Of course, my dear. Now, would you like to continue? That strength potion should last you all day, you know,” The witch returned the tome to the chest and gave Anja a pat on the back.

“What? No!” The huntress exclaimed, “I’m too strong. I don’t want to kill him again…”

“Hmm, I see… One moment…” The witch began rifling through the chest once more, locating yet another potion. This one was a glass bottle, containing a kind of red smoke. She moved over to Rodrik and opened it, holding it beneath his nose. As the man continued to gasp for air, he inhaled the smoke, and started to come to.

“What did you do?” Anja asked, a little concerned.

“It’s just a resistance potion of mine, no need to worry,” The witch waved dismissively at Anja as she placed the empty bottle beside the cauldron, “It’ll toughen up his skin and tissue, so no death-by-exploding-balls this time!”

“Ugh, what happened? What is going on?” Rodrik was now lucid. His speech was slow and slurred, as if he were drunk, but he seemed now to be conscious of his surroundings. As he looked towards Anja, he suddenly noticed her bare chest, “Anja?”

“Rodrik… I can explain…”

“No need. Clearly this heathen’s corruption runs deep within you. Release me, and I’ll put an end to your suffering quickly.”

Anja knew what that meant. Rodrik had zero tolerance for anything even remotely touched by elements of dark magic. In his eyes, the huntress was now no different to the witch, and therefore, she needed to be put down.

“Look, she isn’t controlling me, ok? Will you just listen?”

“Silence. Your tongue is merely a vessel for this fiend’s impure imaginings. Free me, and let me liberate your soul from…”

With a tired roll of her eyes, Anja gave up trying to reason with the man and, instead, simply drove her fist directly into his nuts.

There was no awful crunching sound this time, just Rodrik’s agonised screams. The witch seemed to have been telling the truth, he was strong enough now to take some real punishment, and the incredible feeling within Anja was already back in full force. Realising what just a single punch had done for her, she began practically frothing at the mouth with anticipation.

“Wait…” Rodrik sputtered, but Anja wasn’t listening anymore, her movements driven purely by lust.

She began repeatedly punching his sack once again, alternating from left fist to right fist and so on. They each yelled out in unison after every punch, though their cries greatly contrasted in tone.

Anja was doing her best not to use the full extent of her newfound power just yet, hoping to ensure that the witch’s resistance potion would indeed hold up, though as the ecstasy started to overwhelm her thoughts, she soon allowed herself to really let loose.

Even the witch was impressed by the speed and power on display. The huntress was more merciless than she had realised. It was only after a solid minute of relentless bludgeoning that she took a moment to pause.

Something felt different. Her target, Rodrik’s testicles, seemed to be getting larger. At first, Anja thought that perhaps, somehow, the mercenary was getting aroused. However, she knew that even when fully erect, Rodrik’s member barely measured four inches, so she quickly dismissed the notion. No, instead, it seemed as if the testicles themselves were increasing in size, a small bulbous mass now visible, pressing against his pants.

“Uh, what’s happening?” Anja turned to the witch for an explanation.

“Oh, right, yes. You see, the resistance potion has a few… Side effects,” The witch rubbed the back of her head with an awkward giggle, “Whilst it prevents the skin from breaking, it has been known to instead lead to some pretty rapid swelling. Don’t worry though, it’s harmless. It’ll return to normal eventually…”

Anja wasn’t fully convinced by the witch, but with her pussy dripping wet and craving more action, she wasn’t about to argue any further. She continued her barrage of punches, eyes wide in awe as she watched Rodrik’s sack shift and expand in real-time, beneath the thin material of his pants.

From the look of it, his tiny grapes had bloated to the size of large apples. The crotch of his pants was starting to stretch and tear at the seams, and Anja could see the bruised, hairy skin of a testicle beginning to push through the fabric. She had never witnessed anything quite like it.

It was fortunate that the witch’s dungeon was so remote, and based so deep underground, that there was absolutely no chance anyone outside might hear the horrific, gut-wrenching noises being produced by Rodrik. In any normal situation, he would have passed out long ago, but the witch’s potion was effective in keeping him lucid, and every hit he took was more painful than the last.

There was a sudden, loud rip as, finally, Rodrik’s poor balls ballooned so much that his slacks could no longer contain them. His now-giant meaty sack tore a hole beneath the crotch of his pants, causing them to flop out and dangle low, see-sawing back and forth between his legs.

Anja stopped to observe the abnormal sight before her. The witch, meanwhile, flew into hysterics, pointing and laughing uncontrollably at the man’s oversized, black and blue, dangling testicles. Sure, she had seen the swelling effects of the potion before, but nothing quite so comical as this.

The huntress drooled as she surveyed her victim. It was clear that with every hit she dealt, her target would only get bigger and bigger, and the more sensitive and sore it got, the more orgasmic her own experience would surely be.

Wasting no time, she set to work, crouching down and turning Rodrik’s nuts into a speed bag. She’d seen the mercenary practice the move on an actual leather speed bag back at his domicile, so she was familiar with the technique, though maintaining her accuracy and control was difficult when such incredible sparks of ecstasy were firing throughout her lower regions.

Spit and saliva poured from Rodrik’s mouth as he went cross-eyed, his mind and body unable to comprehend the enormous amount of pain and trauma he was experiencing. He shook violently, rattling his chains as his nuts were battered back and forth by Anja’s merciless, rhythmic pounding.

By this stage, his testicles had swollen considerably yet again, now resembling two large watermelons (though black and blue, rather than green). They hung low enough between his legs that they almost reached his knees. It was quite the freakish spectacle.

“Why not try out those new and improved leg muscles of yours?” The witch cooed, squeezing her breast with one hand and tweaking her nipple with the other. She was clearly starting to enjoy this, perhaps even more than she’d thought she would.

The huntress ceased with her speed-bagging and stood up again, taking a step back to assess her target. The witch was right. Rodrik’s balls now dangled low enough that she could easily reach them with her foot, perhaps even her knee. Her groin tingled with excitement as she slid her foot back and leant forwards, preparing her first kick.

“No…” Was all Rodrik could manage to say, his teary eyes glistening with terror as he waited helplessly for what was coming.

Anja’s foot crashed against the underside of the mercenary’s giant left testicle with an almighty whack. The meaty thud reverberated around the dungeon, sending a shockwave of ripples up the bloated sack.

Any screams produced by Rodrik were completely drowned by Anja’s orgasmic cries. She only managed to get half a dozen kicks in before dropping to her hands and knees, stroking her crotch with one hand, her hips gently gyrating as she came. Evidently, it was the best one yet.

Whilst she was busy touching herself on the floor, the witch took her place in front of Rodrik. She began repeatedly slamming her pointed boots up against his enormous meatbag, each kick prolonging Anja’s orgasm, sending her into a fit of delighted shivers and moans.

When the torrent of pleasure finally ceased and the witch had had her fun, the huntress lifted her head and slowly picked herself up from off the ground.

Rodrik’s testicles were now so large that they were touching the floor, and wide enough that they were actually pushing his legs further apart. Not long ago, she would have felt sorry for him. In fact, she’d have felt awful. But it was safe to say her perspective had now shifted, and her priorities had very much changed. At that moment, she barely viewed him as a man, let alone a friend. He was just a toy, a means of pleasure.

Whilst the huntress was still on her knees, the witch placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. The demon stepped in front of her, her thinly-veiled crotch blocking Anja’s view of Rodrik.

“Are we finally enjoying ourselves now?” She smiled.

“Yes,” Anja said, breathlessly, “Thank you… Thank you so much. I’ve never felt this good before. Not once had I ever dreamed…”

“There, there,” The witch said, as if speaking to an infant, “There’s still so much more for you to experience. But I’m afraid, I’m going to need a little bit more than a simple ‘thank you’, understand?”

With a delicate finger, the witch suggestively raised up her loincloth, exposing her naked lips, right in front of Anja’s face. Anja looked up at her, still coming down for her orgasm.

“Whatever you ask.”

“Oh, and you can refer to me as… Your Goddess.”

“Yes, my Goddess,” Anja whispered.

And with that, the witch grabbed the back of the huntress’s head and pressed her firmly into her crotch. Rolling her eyes in pleasure, she bit her lip as she felt the girl’s tongue glide across her clit. She was surprisingly good, all things considered. Needless to say, Anja was now hers.

Rodrik watched on in silent horror as his former partner gladly ate out the demonic figure in front of him. Even if he’d had the strength to speak, words would have totally failed him. In all his travels and adventures, he had never witnessed nor heard of any situation that could rival this.

The witch, grinding her wet lips up against Anja’s face, casually finished herself off and moved away, letting her loincloth flop back down and allowing the huntress a moment to catch her breath. She walked gracefully over to a large wooden cabinet, flinging open its creaking doors and revealing a series of whips, paddles and chains. Grabbing one whip and one paddle, she turned back to Anja.

“Now, why don’t we see just how big those balls can get?” The witch threw the paddle over to Anja, who just managed to catch it as she clambered to her feet, her face still dripping.

Anja held the paddle and eyed her target. It wasn’t long before the witch joined her at her side, holding the whip up and lining up her shot.

“You aim for the right one, I’ll aim for the left one” She said with a devilish grin, giving the huntress a wink, “I bet I can make mine grow bigger than yours.”

“You’re on,” Anja replied, wasting no time in proceeding to batter the living daylights out of Rodrik’s manhood.

And so commenced several hours of endless, brutal punishment. Rodrik screamed so hard that he eventually lost his voice, and Anja triggered more orgasms that she was capable of counting. All the while, the witch ensured she kept them steadily supplied with her potions and spells, meaning Rodrik never fully lost consciousness, nor did his sack stop swelling…



The search party was led by one Maximus the Third. It had been three days since his friends had gone missing, and by that point, he’d known something had clearly gone wrong.

Never one to leave a man behind, he had immediately assembled a small team to track them down, knowing already that they had gone in search of an infamous witch that had been plaguing the local settlements.

Traversing through the forest, he had actually stumbled upon the witch’s lair by chance, falling through a hole in the ground, which had actually once been part of the dungeon’s roof.

As he nervously navigated the underground stone labyrinth, he was soon able to pick up the distant sound of female laughter, which echoed eerily throughout the chilly halls.

Doing his best to track the source of the noise, Maximus eventually located a large wooden door, from behind which the menacing laughter was clearly emanating.

With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, and the sight that greeted him would stay with him for the rest of his short life.

The room was reasonably small, and by its decor, had clearly once been used as some sort of ritualistic summoning room. However, its furnishings had now all been forced aside by an enormous mass of wobbling meat.

It was some kind of huge, pulsating skin sack, covered in tiny hairs and (oddly) boot-sized bruises. It spread across almost the entire floorspace, and sat at almost six feet in height.

The first thing Maximus noticed was the women. Both of them naked, muscular, one laughing hysterically whilst the other moaned uncontrollably. The pair of them were on top of the flesh sack, jumping up and down as if on some awful bouncy castle. With each jump, the moaning woman grew louder and louder.

It took him a second, but to both his horror and confusion, Maximum realised it was Anja. As his eyes darted about the room, he traced the giant fleshy sack to its source, and suddenly realised what he was looking at.

Rodrik dangled from the ceiling, bound by pitch-black chains, his eyes white and his mouth locked open in an inaudible endless scream. From between his legs, the giant mass stretched, and he twitched and spasmed inhumanly as the women continued to bounce up and down on his monstrous genitals.

“Looks like we have another one, my dear,” The witch cackled, “Bring him to me, would you?”

“At once, my Goddess,’ Anja replied, though she hardly resembled Anja anymore.

As the naked huntress bounded over the giant testicles towards Maximus, the man felt his legs go weak, his mind went dark, and he simply passed out, unable to process the horrors before him. Unfortunately, it seemed he and the rest of his search party would not be returning home either.

The End…



So, that got pretty freaky. Have I mentioned my imagination is kinda weird sometimes? By the end, I couldn’t decide if it was hot or horrifying. Maybe it’s both! Anyway, I guess that’s the story of a woman who just really needed a good orgasm. We can all relate, right?

I’ve had this idea for a while, and I’d love to be able to animate or visualise something like this, but there’s a lot going on and I have no idea how I’d achieve the ball-swelling effect, so for now, I just wanted to write it out and see what you guys think!

As you may have guessed by the fact that this is a literature post, I’m still busy. The house move is underway and I’m doing some overnights for work, but things should calm down in a couple weeks and I’m still working on the regular animations and game content at any possible opportunity.

Stay tuned for more!