How 'The Ring' Became 'a ring'
The Ring doesn't like how its current bearer uses one of its more unique abilities. Not. One. Bit.
The Ring shuddered and withdrew to the farthest recesses of its existence. Its bearer, its chosen steed, had… had… it couldn’t complete the thought. Never in all its millennia of existence had the Ring ever been used in such a fashion and it truly, for the first time since its creation, wished to throw itself back into the volcano from which it had been forged. The indignity of being… of being forced… oh, it just couldn’t! At least they finally seemed to be finished. The Ring relaxed and let itself float as it tried to recover until a familiar sensation shook it out of its happy reverie.
Were they at it again? The ring wished to shriek as its unique sizing capabilities were abused in the worst way, forced to expand around a generously endowed… no, the Ring fled into itself and huddled into a small ball of misery as it felt its physical form pushed into place. Lips occasionally brushed it, but only occasionally and it couldn’t bear to think about the depravity taking place as its bearer serviced… no. The ring forced itself away from that horrifying thought and huddled again until the motion changed into a sharp rocking. It jolted its awareness enough to make the Ring dizzy, and in its disorientation it peeked out. That action immediately caused it to retreat again as it realized just what its bearer and his mate were doing. Oh, how it longed for lava, or for the pure scouring of dragon fire. It thought of nice, soothing flames, so vibrant in their reds, yellows, and oranges. And the delightful music that often followed the flames, as its true wielder set aflame villages and the fleshy beings screamed out in agony. It cringed as the memory of agony brought it right back to its current predicament.
It rued its decision to leave that disturbingly insane creature in the goblin tunnels… it may have fondled the Ring inappropriately and kissed it at times, but at least it never did this… oh, the agony of being misused as a dwarven cock ring!
The Ring shuddered and withdrew to the farthest recesses of its existence. Its bearer, its chosen steed, had… had… it couldn’t complete the thought. Never in all its millennia of existence had the Ring ever been used in such a fashion and it truly, for the first time since its creation, wished to throw itself back into the volcano from which it had been forged. The indignity of being… of being forced… oh, it just couldn’t! At least they finally seemed to be finished. The Ring relaxed and let itself float as it tried to recover until a familiar sensation shook it out of its happy reverie.
Were they at it again? The ring wished to shriek as its unique sizing capabilities were abused in the worst way, forced to expand around a generously endowed… no, the Ring fled into itself and huddled into a small ball of misery as it felt its physical form pushed into place. Lips occasionally brushed it, but only occasionally and it couldn’t bear to think about the depravity taking place as its bearer serviced… no. The ring forced itself away from that horrifying thought and huddled again until the motion changed into a sharp rocking. It jolted its awareness enough to make the Ring dizzy, and in its disorientation it peeked out. That action immediately caused it to retreat again as it realized just what its bearer and his mate were doing. Oh, how it longed for lava, or for the pure scouring of dragon fire. It thought of nice, soothing flames, so vibrant in their reds, yellows, and oranges. And the delightful music that often followed the flames, as its true wielder set aflame villages and the fleshy beings screamed out in agony. It cringed as the memory of agony brought it right back to its current predicament.
It rued its decision to leave that disturbingly insane creature in the goblin tunnels… it may have fondled the Ring inappropriately and kissed it at times, but at least it never did this… oh, the agony of being misused as a dwarven cock ring!