The Magic Ring - pt 1
by Plowjack


	Suzanne contemplated her prize with joy, and some amount of fear. There 
before her, on the altar of her shrine, a new object lay among the 
censer, herbs and tools of her craft. Placed before the image of her 
Goddess lay a large finger ring. She had made it of horn, inlayed with 
gold. It's bezel held a stone of red, mottled with flecks of green. The 
stone seemed to catch and hold the light of the altar's candles, as 
Suzanne reached for the magic ring.
	Suzanne was a witch, and tonight she hoped to complete the greatest 
work of magic of her life. Nine months before, the Goddess had answered 
her summoning, appearing to her in a vision. She had come in the light 
and smoke of the sacred fire, the Goddess Maeve. The warrior Goddess of 
Intoxication, she spoke the answer to Suzanne's prayer:
	"Daughter," said the vision, " it is not fit that my people should 
suffer under a man. Follow the formula that I will give you, and you 
will gain a talisman that will bring men to their knees before you. So 
long as you harm only evildoers the gift is yours. It will bring you 
great pleasure, great strength, and, if you have the will and courage, 
great victory."
	Suzanne remembered the terror that he had felt that winter, when she 
had been assaulted by Robert, the Baron of the land that held her 
village. He was a towering brute, with no regard for the common folk. He 
had taken a fancy to her at a fair, and tried to take her on a bench 
before the whole square. She had screamed and struggled until she 
succeeded in escaping, his laughter ringing behind her. 
	For a time Suzanne had sought to learn war-skill. She was then a 
strapping woman of 23 years. Standing 5' 6" tall, she was sturdy and 
strong, big hipped with full, round teats. She had worked hard to learn 
sword-skill, but it became clear that she would never gain the strength 
to stand against a professional warrior like Baron Robert or his 
personal guards. So, she turned to witchcraft.
	Now, her spell-work done, she had the talisman promised to her by 
Maeve. She knew that the Goddess' promise of pleasure must mean sexual 
pleasure, and whenever she thought of sex, she thought of Fergus the 
Taylor. But first she must gather her courage and try on the ring.
	She said a simple prayer to Maeve and  put on the ring.
	Nothing happened. She felt no different, nor could she lift the heavy 
oaken table when she tried. She pulled her sleeve back and flexed her 
muscles. Her round arm swelled its usual amount. "Just fine for a 
lassie," the Captain had called her muscles. Not enough for the job of 
freeing her folk from Baron Robert.
	The witch decided to make her usual worship of the Goddess Maeve, while 
wearing the ring. As was proper she stripped off her clothing and sat 
cross-legged before her shrine. Beginning her breathing pattern, she 
called to mind the vision of Maeve.
	She imagined her standing tall and beautiful, a flagon of mead in one 
hand and a sword in the other. Powerfully muscled, taller than any 
mortal, she wore golden bands on her wrists and biceps, bare of any 
other garment. At the knees of Maeve the Mighty, suzanne envisioned a 
young male figure of mortal size. This being knelt behind the Goddess, 
totally naked. That slender, handsome youth caressed the Lady's body and 
reached his hand between her mighty thighs.
	As Suzanne held this vision in mind, she reached down to her own 
clitoris, beginning the gentle stroking. She poured out her devotion to 
the Goddess as she brought herself to a sweet, soft orgasm.
	And that's when the magic truly started.
*******************************************************
	Later that same evening, Suzanne was making her way to the tavern where 
she knew she would find Fergus the Taylor. He was her lover, her 
sweetheart, known to her since their childhood. Suzanne entered the 
tavern and saw Fergus immediately, sitting among the village merchants. 
He was fair and slender, a few inches taller than Suzanne. He greeted 
her graciously, taking her short, broad palm in his long, clever fingers 
and kissing her palm.
	"Good evening, my darling. You look truly lovely tonight," Fergus said, 
and meant it. Suzanne was glowing with energy and life. He offered her a 
cup of ale and she sat down next to him, holding his hand tightly. She 
sipped her ale and spoke, "Gentlemen, I am engaged on an errand vital to 
our village. Let me drink your health and than take my companion away, 
for it is his help I need tonight."
	Fergus blushed as the group laughed and winked, certain they knew the 
nature of Suzanne's need. She stood and pulled at Fergus' arm, to stand 
him up.
	"Wait, stay awhile, dear," he said and pulled back. Suzanne grabbed his 
arm with both hands and nearly yanked him from his seat. He smiled and 
shrugged at his friends as his beautiful woman dragged him into the 
night.
	The pair giggled and embraced as they paraded out of the town's streets 
and into the fields outside the village.
	"Now Fergus," Suzanne teased as they walked, "You know better than to 
try to resist me". She was holding his right arm in her two hands as 
they walked. "Aye Darling," Fergus chuckled, "there's no stopping you. 
But I would have lingered a while longer over my ale." He could feel 
Suzanne's strong hands stroking and squeezing his arm.
	"Still, you know that I will not be denied by you. Especially tonight, 
when I have a true wonder to show you."
	"Darling," Fergus said, "it's always a wonder that you show me!"
*******************************************************
	After a time they came to a copse of trees among the corn. Within was a 
clearing, into which the moonlight poured. This was their special 
trysting place, and the moment they arrived they turned to kiss one 
another lustily. Then suddenly Suzanne grabbed Fergus around the ribs 
and began to tickle him. He flinched and squirmed in her grasp as he 
gasped and giggled.
	"Since you resisted, you must be punished, Master Fergus Taylor!" She 
smiled broadly as she worked on his ribs. He gasped and writhed and 
grasped her forearms, trying to pull her away. When he found that he 
could not, he began to tickle her ribs in turn. They went on for a 
moment and then Suzanne grabbed her lover's wrists and pulled his hands 
from her body. She twisted his arms, hard and fast.
	"On your knees now, my handsome lad," she said, her voice hard. Fergus 
felt his arms wrenched painfully, and he had no choice but to fall to 
his knees before her. She released his arms, but grabbed  the back of 
his long hair, pulling and lifting until he was half-standing, his body 
braced against her wide hips. His eyes sparkled as he gazed up at her 
lovingly, his cheek pressed to her soft breast.
"Now, my lad, which of us is still the strongest?" She asked.
	"You are, my beauty," he replied. Fergus had one arm around Suzanne's 
waist and one hand gripping the arm that lifted him. He felt Suzanne's 
thick, round biceps as she held him fast. He felt his cock stiffen and 
he began to mouth her nipple through the cloth of her blouse. "Please, 
Suzanne," he said, " let me go and I will be yours."
	"You are mine already, my lad," she said, as she released his hair and 
put her hands under his arms to raise him to his feet. "But you must 
still be punished!" She tickled him unmercifully, ignoring his efforts 
to escape, until his knees buckled. With a push she threw him to the 
ground, where he lay gasping and holding his sides. 'Oh, you are a cruel 
mistress to your poor servant, Suzanne of Merrivale!" he laughed, as he 
recovered his breath. "I am always amazed at how strong you have 
become." He sat up and peeled off his tunic, leaving his slender chest 
and shoulders bare.
	"No more than you could be if you worked at it,, instead of at your 
books and stitches. She joined him on the soft floor of the glade, and 
stripped her clothing over her head. But even as she said it, she knew 
it wasn't true.

	Even as children it had been this way with them. Suzanne was a year 
older than Fergus, and was bigger and stronger than him for most of 
those years. When they became teenagers he grew past her in height. But 
Fergus was the village tailor's son, and his life kept him indoors, 
learning clever skills. Suzanne was a farmer's daughter and her life of 
hard work sat well on her. She grew up thick and strong, while Fergus 
was slender and wiry - not weak, but no match for her. When they were 
about 16 she challenged him to armwrestle, in a playful mood one day. 
They had been cuddling, and she couldn't help noticing how soft and 
small his arms seemed next to hers. She beat him with only a small 
effort, then wrestled him to the bed and played with him. She pinned him 
beneath her and gave him her teat to suck. She held him between her 
thick legs and made him lick her young womanhood. She pressed his 
shoulders to the bed and bit his nipples until he begged her to stop. At 
last she rolled him atop her and crushed him into her as he rode her to 
ecstasy.
	Suzanne, a pretty sixteen year old, had made her 15 year old lover into 
her helpless toy, in a way that felt completely natural to them both. 
Fergus' slim, firm body made him the weaker partner in bed, and he found 
he loved it, as did Suzanne. It had been so ever since.
	Yet as strong as Suzanne was, she knew that she had not yet become 
strong enough.

	Fergus and Suzanne lay naked on their cloaks in the leaves and grass of 
the glade. She was lying on his chest, with her arms wrapped tightly 
around his neck and chest. She squeezed him crushingly, knowing that his 
sweet body could take what she gave, then started playing with his 
nipples, while she told him about the magic ring. She nuzzled his thatch 
of chest hair, then licked one nipple hard. She sucked the nipple into 
her mouth and suckled like a hungry babe. She teased and occasionally 
bit down hard, making him whimper in the way he knew she loved. Then she 
moved to the other nipple and began again.
	Fergus lay in his love's grasp, and ran his hands over her body. He was 
enthralled as ever by Suzanne's mighty back and shoulders, broad and 
well-defined. He ran his hands over her arms, rock hard as she squeezed 
him, biceps and triceps flexing. She loved it when he squeezed her 
muscles, his gentle hands barely able to dent her flesh. He moaned again 
as she worked on his chest, and his cock grew hard. But as Suzanne told 
her tale of the ring, he grew more and more amazed.
	"So, then," he said at last, trying to pull away a bit, "what *was* the 
power of the ring?"
	"I believe that it is the true answer to our prayers. The power that 
will bring Robert to his knees. If we are careful, I believe I can show 
you."
	She released her hold on him, and rolled off, leaving his member 
standing in the air. She knew that if she ignored it now he would only 
get more excited, so she got up to her knees and stretched. The ring was 
on a thread around her neck, and she broke it loose and slipped it on. 
She felt a thrill of anticipation flow through her.
	"Now, my lad, if you will give me my rubdown..."
	This was a game they both loved. Fergus caught his breath and knelt 
behind suzanne. He began by massaging her neck and shoulders, using all 
his strength to knead her hard flesh. She put her hands behind her head 
and flexed her biceps, and Fergus ran his hands over them.
	"My sweet Suzanne, you are so..." he ran his hands over her hard arms, 
her round shoulders and down to the thick, hard muscles of her chest 
"...so strong and hard. Your breasts are so perfect." he kneaded her 
melon-sized tits, " I love your body, my dearest. You are my 
mistress..."
	Now Fergus reached down to run his hands over her thighs and butt. 
"oh... I want to be between them..." he reached around to touch her 
warm, wet sex, and began to play with her clit. Suzanne took hold of his 
forearms, as one hand kneaded her breasts, the other her pussy. Then 
Suzanne felt herself begin to come.
	Fergus was held tight against Suzanne's back by her grip on his arms. 
With both of them up on their knees he was taller then her, though he 
felt like she held him draped over her broad shoulders. He felt her 
quiver as her climax began, and then it seemed that she was sitting up, 
for her head began to rise. He felt a shock of tingling delight flow 
through his body as if from hers, and he felt her shoulders grow wider 
and higher. Under his left hand Suzanne's breast grew larger, but as she 
grew, for grow she did, fergus was unable to get his arms all the way 
around her. Her hands on his forearms gripped tighter and tighter. He 
felt his bones grind together and he cried out. Suzanne released him and 
he found himself with his head leaning against the middle of her back.
	"Well, my little lad," Suzanne's voice boomed, "am I not a wonder?" She 
shook him off and stood, rising now taller and taller over his kneeling 
body. As she stood he found himself staring at her knees, rubbing his 
bruised forearms. He lifted his head see his beloved towering above him, 
her breasts nearly obscuring her face. He stood up and stepped back.
	Suzanne stood naked before him, now at least a foot taller than his 5' 
9", in every way she was amplified and increased. Her breasts were twice 
their previous size, her shoulders wider than a yard. Her waist was tiny 
by proportion, her belly flat and smooth. Her swelling hips were broader 
than Fergus's own shoulders. Fergus was mesmerized by her breasts and 
the slabs of muscle that supported them, and when she flexed her huge 
arms (it had been all of a few seconds since she changed) Fergus was 
compelled to go to her. He stepped up to find himself staring at 
Suzanne's sternum, her breasts as big as his head. But it was her arms 
he wanted to touch. He reached up to her shoulders and ran his hands 
down over her muscles. She still had a thin layer of soft flesh over her 
mass, but her biceps were now huge, peaking like mountains as she flexed 
for him. His two hands could not go round her giant upper arm, and the 
muscle was now totally hard, impossible to press or dent. Fergus' knees 
went weak, and, still without a word, lay his head on her tits, 
themselves very firm. His hands ran over her sides and down to her hips. 
He couldn't reach her butt from his place before her, because of the 
width of her hips, so he lifted one breast in his two hands - it was 
heavy! - and began to suck her toe-sized nipple. He still had not 
spoken.
	"Oh darling, " Suzanne said, "I was dumbstruck too, when I realized 
what the Goddess' gift was." She put her hands under his arms and easily 
lifted him before her. She held him before her face, kissed him softly 
with big lips, then lifted him high over her head. "I believe that I am 
even stronger than I am big!" she crowed. She gathered him into her arms 
and kissed him again. Her lips were big and pillowy soft, and he kissed 
her hungrily, wrapping his arms around the pillar of her neck. She 
locked her arms around him, and his feet dangled, his now-stiff cock 
brushing her belly, his body draped over her breasts.
	"I must be gentle with you now, my love," Suzanne purred. She held him 
in her left arm, pressed to her firm bosom as she ran her right hand 
over his body. She wrapped one hand all the way around his  arm and 
squeezed. Fergus' muscles were flexed, as he clung to her neck, and he 
cried out softly as her big hand crushed his biceps, making his arm go 
limp. "Oh, I am sorry my dear," her quiet voice boomed in his ear, "your 
sweet body is just as soft as butter to me now. I feel so mighty that I 
could crush a man's bones in my simple grasp. That was almost no 
pressure just then, and your little muscles just collapsed."
	Fergus lay with his face pressed against hers, as she stroked his 
injured arm. He still had not spoken, nor was he sure of his feelings. 
He had been overcome with lust when he first touched Suzanne's hard new 
flesh. Now he felt his cock go limp as the pain of his arm brought a 
wave of fear. Suzanne seemed intoxicated with her power, and that seemed 
dangerous!
	"Please, Suzanne, put me down now, Dear?" he asked meekly. Usually if 
Fergus asked her something like that in their lovemaking it brought only 
a new wave of teasing and domination. This night Suzanne heard a new 
note in his voice, and gently lowered him to his feet. He backed away 
and stared at her. As he took in her mighty size, the beauty of breast 
and hip, the powerful curves of shoulders, arms and thighs, his manhood 
swelled again. At last he spoke.
	"Mistress, this is truly a wonder from the Gods! I only pray that this 
blessing carries no attendant curse. I'll admit to a certain fear," he 
said cautiously - was she mad? - "and I wonder how I will ever make love 
to you again without being ground like grain between your thighs. Will 
you grow larger still each time you come? Your form fills me with desire 
and fear." He was babbling, but his head was still spinning.
	She stepped toward him and he backed away. With a move of catlike speed 
and grace, unbelievable in one of her bulk, she caught him and put him 
on his back on the earth. She planted her knees on either side of his 
hips, and pinned him flat with one huge hand on his chest. Fear overtook 
him and he struggled to rise, pulling and pounding at her forearm. 
Suzanne just let him struggle, small and weak between her legs, his 
blows no more than taps to her oaken muscle. She was careful not to go 
too far as she slowly increased the pressure on his narrow chest. At 
last he could hardly get a breath, and he stopped struggling.
	"Please, Lady, you are crushing me..." he begged. Suzanne let up the 
pressure and fergus drew a deep breath.
	"Now, my handsome lad, hear me well," Suzanne said softly. She lifted 
his head to her lips, her face larger than his, her lips brushing his 
face as she spoke. "If you were never frightened of me before, you 
should have been. Your sweet, slender body has been at my mercy for 
years. If I wished, I could have broken you like a bundle of sticks, or 
pounded you to porridge. Your muscles has never been anything compared 
to mine. Suzanne kissed him sweetly, and petted his face.
	"But Fergus, you are my love. We play our little games, and you like 
them well. I've never harmed you, and I will not now." She reached down 
and found his half-hard member. She knew him well, and with a few 
strokes he was erect in her hand.
	Fergus had resigned himself. If this was the Goddess' joke, to end his 
life through this sorcery, then so be it! He would take the pleasure 
with the pain. Now he let himself go, into the feel of Suzanne's big 
hand squeezing his cock. He grasped her massive forearm and felt the 
ropy, defined muscles. Her wrists were now nearly as thick as his own 
forearms, her thighs almost as thick as his waist. Now the giant Witch 
lowered herself down onto his hard penis, engulfing him in her warmth. 
She let only a part of her weight onto him, using her thighs like 
springs as she rode his shaft.
	"Oh, Goddess, I feel so strong! My thighs are so mighty I feel as 
though I weigh nothing!" She lowered her body over him, dangling a 
nipple into his mouth for him to suck. She rested on her elbows above 
him, her elbows by his ears.  Fergus was now completely engulfed in the 
muscle and sex of his beloved. He wrapped his arms around hers, 
delirious with the feel of her huge, peaked biceps and giant shoulders. 
Her pussy felt, if anything, tighter than before, but she was wet and 
inviting, squeezing him like a fist.
	After a dozen strokes he felt her begin to come, and he offered up his 
life to the Goddess. She quivered, the nipple in his mouth grew hard, 
and she let more of her weight press him. Then he felt again the wild, 
strange tingle flow from her flesh into his. He shut his eyes as his own 
orgasm flooded forth into her vessel. They both held their breath a 
moment...
	"How do you feel, my love?" Fergus asked gently.
	"I *feel* perfectly wonderful, but I don't think I'm growing any 
more... Are you whole and well, little one?" Fergus raised himself to 
snuggle into Suzanne's magical body, and sighed, "I feel as though I am 
in the Goddess' own heaven!"

	Fergus and Suzanne lay quietly for a while. She pulled him on top of 
her and let him revel in her flesh. He licked her chest all over, and 
caressed her arms and shoulders.
	"There's no use in massaging you now, my love. I may as well try to 
knead granite as your muscle," he said. She flexed her arms and he 
kissed and lung to them. He embraced her thighs, and marveled at her 
thick butt.
	After a while they tested her strength. She could snap off a tree 
branch as thick as a man's arm (not one as thick as hers) with ease. She 
rolled a boulder as high as Fergus' waist easily, and raised it to her 
own waist with more difficulty. She could run and leap with amazing 
speed.
	"So, O mighty and beautiful Witch," Fergus asked at last, as dawn was 
creeping, "are you doomed to this wonder forever?"
	"Would that be good or ill for you, lover?" She teased.
	"Good, if I survived it. But maybe not as good for you back in the 
village. The priest will not understand!" he answered.
	"I could certainly push a plow!" They laughed together. "But no, the 
Goddess has done better by me than that. Come here, my lad..."
	She gathered the man into her strong arms, lifting him from the ground 
effortlessly, holding his mouth to her lips, his body crushed to her 
bosom and powerful hips. She reached behind his back and pulled off the 
ring. She locked his head to her lips as she shrank. His feet touched 
the ground, but she held him fast. Her arm became smaller and smaller, 
but, it seemed, only a little less hard, and she held his neck fast in 
the crook of her biceps. As she regained her normal stature Fergus was 
bent over, kissing her trying to keep his balance. She put out her leg 
and swept his feet from under him. He fell and she caught him in both 
arms, then lowered him to the ground.
	"There you are, my lad!" she crowed. "On your knees before me, just 
where your puny body belongs. Now then, which of us is *still* 
stronger?"
	"You are, my magical Suzanne..."