Chapter 9 - Roland

Form Roland, form!

A long sword offers range, a dagger maneuverability!
 
Stay on him!

Start again, dammit I said again!
 
Roland’s father was always this way, barking orders, inconsiderate; intolerable! He picked up the wooden sparring sword from the ground while rubbing his left cheek with his free hand, his body was bruised and dirty from the day’s training.
 
“One day son you’re going to realize, some opponents cannot be beaten with brute force”! Marcus was trying to be patient, and the lesson didn't seem complicated, yet the boy failed to understand. “Just because the long sword is larger and has the potential to do more damage, doesn’t necessarily make it so. Sometimes the dagger is a more appropriate weapon, as you must learn how to fight your enemies with tactic and thought”! Marcus had entered the ring and was now yelling directly at Roland, “no warrior is the same, you must judge him uniquely, be prepared as best as you can be”!
 
Roland was used to scolding such as this, still, he wished his dad would just understand. Sometimes there is no alternative. Sometimes the only option is to attack with full force. He knew he was right; his dad would never know though, old bastard. Father and son trained until it was time to break for lunch. His father’s demeanor changed as they spoke.
 
“Our family is a hunted, Roland of Ostigar. We are a proud family, but we must be able to support our pride”. His father kneeled; this was rare. “Life has never been fair to an Ostigar, yet we remain. All I wish to teach you is this; Someday you will be beset on all sides, and bravado will not be enough, the sword will not be enough.” His father matched his own gaze, “sometimes your own strength, your discipline, will be your only and best weapon”.
 
Discipline.
 
~
 
Roland had lost all sense of time, as he had been subject to the whims of a parasitic fungus after their last argument. Still, things were odd, as his only visitor was Astrid. She would never speak, only cast the sleeping spell,  and then leave.

It was effecting his mind, distorting his recollection of events. It made him susceptible. He was forgetting things, things that once gave his life value.

She entered the room again.
 
~
 
The young warrior snapped to reality. Everything was cloudy. Fragmented. All he remembered was the return, Sarah, and Astrid. Had they saved Isolde? 
 
Good morning heroic knight, glad you could join us! Hopefully this is all it takes for you to join us!

Who was that?
 
“Join us”? Hadn’t he just awoken? What knocked him out anyways? All his memories were a blur, as if whole pieces had been extracted.
 
Alright young Sarah, you little fiend, you’re up!
 
Roland tried to stretch but quickly noticed that he was bound, by the slime? Wait- , he and the creature, A-Aishura? Yes, Aishura, had come to an understanding! About the troll, the troll? 
 
Sarah paraded into the slime covered room, waving her arms energetically, behaving as if she had won some grand prize. She was now naked again, her shoulder length hair once again splattered with sticky goo as well. Her bare legs seemed to be shaking on their own, as if something were humming in between her thighs. 
 
“Well Ro, I’ve been awarded with the prestigious honor of breaking your heart”, She winked. Hopefully I do a good job, and by the end of this you’ll be aching to join us”! The elf twirled fancifully, exposing her rear-end to Roland. Between the cheeks of her round ass there was a pulsating blob, the base of what was presumably a gel phallus nestled in her womb, slowly pumping in and out; small strands of purple slime occasionally dripping from Sarah’s pussy. 
 
Roland recoiled in sadness and anger. This was not his friend, it was a puppet. He needed not to listen, to stay strong.
 
“Ro, sweetie... I get that you don’t agree with this,” some of her sincerity was beginning to shine through, “but I’m not being controlled anymore, that was over long ago”. She tried to cheer him up, but all it led to was more confusion. 
 
“What”?
 
“This is who I am, sir Lancelot! Beneath the clothes and the ego and the fear…this is me, Ro”. She ran her right hand down his cheek, cracking a faint smile, but this was real; no joke. “I have fun with this, but jumping around and just being a slutty caricature isn’t going to convince you to join us”. 

It really was Sarah. 
 
“So, I’ll show you our true nature, your true nature”. The elf winked at her friend, she still loved him, and just wanted him to understand; to embrace. 
 
Isolde entered the room, less so by her own volition but rather because she’d been dragged in, by Astrid. 
 
Poor Astrid, isn’t that what you call her? Aishura beckoned from the shadows. 
 
Roland knew he was in his head, but that he couldn’t control him, he still had one advantage This creature was going to burn, he’d see to it personally.
 
“Astrid? Is that really you?” Roland tried to plead with her, as perhaps she could still be reached, she was still wearing her old clothes… there was time perhaps. 
 
Astrid smiled at Roland, she wanted to tell him everything would be alright...It just wasn’t the time yet.
 
Isolde’s ankles and wrist had been bound behind her. The she-warrior was on her back, her front facing the slime infested ceiling. She was completely exposed yet restrained, everything pulsated around the shattered fighter, her mind barely had had time to recover from the troll’s assault. Now this? 
 
“Isolde and Roland, my dear friends, you two have yet to join us… and its sad, because we’re family”! Sarah was jumping up and down now, she used her free hands to play with her exposed breast as she hopped. “Now, it can be scary, taking the first plunge. Don’t fret, me and my lovely assistant Astrid are here to help”! Sarah presented Astrid to Roland.
 
Assistant?
 
Suddenly Astrid’s robe fell to the floor to reveal her naked body. Small globs of slime were clinging to her nipples, hungrily suckling away. Roland noticed that the inside of her legs had been stained with dried slime, something had clearly been inside of her. For a girl her age she was quite developed, her clothes doing little to showcase her assets. Now, relinquished of them, it was as if a butterfly had just emerged from it’s cocoon. The witch’s hips were thick and fertile, her skin soft and pale. She ran her hands along her buttocks and breast, exploring them for probably the first time. She was a woman and hadn’t even yet realized it, until now.
 
Roland couldn’t help but feel his cock stiffening, they had removed his chaps, but he was still trying to fight back tears. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit all! Everything he fought for, some last semblance of purity and hope was gone. He hated this place, he hated Sarah, he hated that abomination, and he hated himself. He hated himself so much, for feeling such lust for someone he saw as a sister, for always lacking the strength to do what needed to be done. He should’ve killed her out there, never taken her back here. He should’ve killed Isolde, god how would she ever be the same…He had a chance, a subconscious choice, yet he couldn’t do it. They unwittingly needed him to save them, yet he couldn’t do it. His cowardice had now cost them their souls. 
 
“Isolde, are you ready to join your sisters”? Sarah twirled again, spinning out halfway through in a fit of laughter. To her this was rebirth. Somewhere safe; potentially a new home for them all. 
 
To Roland it was hell.
 
Astrid and Sarah faced each other, witch and elf, on opposite ends of Isolde. In unison the two descended upon her, as a lioness does her prey. 
 
The corrupted elf sat on her face, grinding the end of the gooey dildo down the broken fighter’s throat. Her movements were slow and sensual, this was a spiritual experience for her; the bonding of two friends. Astrid sunk to the dungeon floor, revealing a special surprise in her mouth, as she unfurled her tongue a set of smaller slimy purple tentacles crawled forth from her lips. She looked at Roland as she descended, she only wished that he could understand. Parting Isolde’s labia with her own lips she and the tendrils proceeded to do their magic. Astrid’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, cum running down her inner thigh; the mere honor of pleasuring her sister was enough to make her cum. 
 
Isolde shuddered in sheer delight, her eyes rolled back, legs quaking in ecstasy. Her throat and stomach bulged slightly as the slime made its way into her, a two-pronged attack. Already broken by the cave troll’s monstrous cock this barrage was paradise relatively speaking. Before the slime could even make its way to her brain and take root she understood her friends’ sentiment. 
 
They loved her. They cared. She was done fighting.
 
She swallowed the purple nectar contently from Sarah’s blossomed flower, at the same time rhythmically grinding into Astrid’s mouth. Having completed its purpose her bondage loosened, allowing her to further embrace her sisters love. She wrapped her legs around Astrid’s neck, keeping the witch pinned into her grateful pussy. Isolde also used her arms, grabbing onto Sarah’s toned ass firmly; she ate her ass and pussy as if it were here last meal. 
 
The tree of them were entirely connected. 
 
A small dot of precum was forming on the tip of Roland’s cock. His mind had shut down to save his increasingly fragile psyche, he was somewhere far away. He could feel nothing, he wanted to accept nothing. This was his final stand.
 
Astrid peeked up, aware of his discomfort, and also felt immense sadness. She removed herself from Isolde’s embrace, ending the lust ridden exchange. 
 
Poor Astrid, the abandoned magus, crawled on hand and foot to Roland; she couldn’t bear to see him suffer anymore. The others took notice and they too joined her. She ran her hands along his pelvis; There were tears in her eyes. 
 
“Don’t weep for me Ro, I hate when you cry”. She kissed along the length of his shaft, anything to make him feel better. In between pecks she would lean under, sucking on his testicles with love and care.
 
Roland had been far away, he had escaped his physical body, but they kept trying pull him back. He was bound by a silver chord and they wouldn’t stop tugging. 
 
Please, I don’t want to lose myself. No. no. Each time he attempted to cling to a memory he coudn't. His childhood. Details from the group's time together, before all of this. It all escaped him. H
 
His attempts to break free grew fainter and fainter, he couldn’t fight it. He hated himself, but he lacked the strength to continue fighting. The discipline. Who would have it, presented with such an opportunity. 
 
Astrid looked up in anticipation and spoke to him, the other girls now standing on both sides, “Ro, if you join us everything will be ok, we’ll never be separated. We can all get what we want, even you”. Sarah began grinding against his leg, her body twitching and holding on tight. Isolde held Astrid by her auburn hair, she was ready to help assist in Roland's recruitment. The witch stuck out her tongue, mouth wide open, ready to receive the length of Roland’s throbbing cock.
 
The final tears of a free man streamed down his face. 
 
“Ok”.
 
 
~
 
Heavy chapter, right? Hope you enjoyed!
 