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A Witches Silver Ring

Hope you enjoy this little piece it was pretty fun to try and write and it moved away from my traditional styles. Hope you enjoy this dive into Alternative pregnancy!

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Long ago in an age before legends, before scripture when there was only the way of force. None exemplified this more than the warrior king Serosh. More a beast in human form than a warrior, Serosh was to be feared when in the heat of battle. Whether armed or with his bare hands Serosh would engage in combat naked. His prideful manhood swung about. Whether by skill, fear, or his ever-present battle erection Serosh certainly yielding himself several scars but never any upon his back or manhood. He was a man without fear.

Serosh would always be found leafing ghost people into the fiercest of battles. From his village, he laid siege to all those surrounding him. He laid waste to palaces and fortresses alike. None would survive his brutal campaign. So many casualties yet he still remained. Upon one of his bloodiest sieges, he heard of a warrior who may be his greatest foe. A warrior renowned for their swordsmanship. When he called to a challenge in one on one combat Serosh came without delay. Only to meet his opponent. Dressed in fine blue silks, with a curved blade in hand.

As he normally did Serosh battled naked. His opponent. Closed their eyes giving Serosh a moment to strike. Yet with the grace of a dancer, they dodged and reposted him. A good slay to the side left a scare but did not disembowel. Something he told his opponent, “You need to do better I’ve battled with my innards hang loose before!”

Serosh went in for a strike. Again his opponent moved elegantly like a dancer. A flurry of strikes in numerous locations. Only cuts to Serosh’s eye. Serosh let out a battle cry and swung his blade across the horizon. The swordsman in blue moved gracefully and reposted.

“You have yet to lay a scratch upon me,” he heard the voice of his opponent

The voice of a woman. He was filled with rage.

“You may be strong but you have yet to have real power.”

Serosh charged and roared his battle cry. The swordswoman disarmed him getting his sword out of his hand. She proclaimed him finished and left the battle. Serosh was not done. He demanded satisfaction. And she would not yield to “A crying child such as you,”

In his anger, he single-handedly destroyed several villages surrounding this swordswoman encampment. She would not cop to combat against him. It led him to a lone cottage hidden away from all others. And there was a witch and her daughter. Tending to a small garden, no doubt their only source of food. Serosh made his way to them, readying his idle threats, his grip tightening around his weapon.

“RAAGH!” he cried out

The daughter screamed and headed inside the cottage. The mother stood in front of the doorway ready to protect her daughter.

“Be gone from here! We have nothing for your wanting!” she proclaimed to Serosh

“If you breathe I shall take it.” He swung his blade down

The woman moved out of the way and attempted to shove him. Serosh barely budged. He went to strike again. A single strand of cloth rose on its own and held his sword in place. The cloth did not tear against the sharp jagged edge of his blade.

“A Witch!” Serosh proclaimed

“She waved her hand holding up a few fingers, her pointer, and her pinky. That wave of her hand brought the roots up and boundSerosh. He was not fearful. He swung his sword down at the roots cutting himself free. She noticed he nicked parts of his leg.

“You would injure yourself in battle?” she asked him

“What means do I have to be fearful of injury? I fear nothing, not even death,” He went to stab his sword at her.

The witch turned to mist and evaded his attack. Using this he charged to the door. She returned to her human form and let out a word of magic in an ancient language. Serosh appeared to have been turned around in the blink of an eye now suddenly charging at the witch. With her pointer fingers and thumbs forming a triangle with her palms facing Serosh, she froze him in place. Incapable of moving,

Serosh laughed wickedly. “I have broken such spells before. I will stain this very ground with your blood once I am free,”

“What will it take, payment? Coin or flesh? Tribute? What need does a barbarian such as you want in killing me and my daughter?”

“I want only to kill, to reign as the greatest warrior!” he proclaimed.

She pulled a silver ring from her finger. “Take this,” she pleaded with him “Take this ring and it will lead you to your victory.”

“Such a ring cannot do such things.” Serosh reposed to her.

“This one will. It will fill the gap of what you lack. And that will lead you to greater things.” She exclaimed

She explained this ring was a gift from a former master. The ring was enchanted to make a person whole. By filling in the part of their soul that they lack. She laid the ring in front of him and left. Going into her little cottage it disappeared like a shroud of mist. Serosh was able to move again.

He was tempted by the ring. Picking it up he thought very faintly about what he lacked. “Nothing, I lack only utter victory.” He without hesitation put the ring around his middle finger.

The band shrunk to fit him.

Now standing in the clearing stark naked. He cleaved his sword into the ground. He marveled at the ring around his finger seeing symbols and markings appearing across the band. He proclaimed aloud that he could feel the magic surging through him. His pendulous testicles convulse and retracted before relaxing. Their weight was easily noticeable. It didn’t stop. His balls continued to engorge getting heavier and descending further. They were already the grapefruit, bringing him to his knees.

“What manner of magic is this,” he cried out. His testicles getting bigger and bigger.

Now already the size of a small melon, he could feel something inside with each testicle. Something writing, wiggling, and moving beneath the skin of his ball sack. Serosh was unsure as to the nature of this feeling. Yet the only thing he knew was that it was alive. The ring gave him only minor clarity. Life was dwelling inside his overly engorged testicles.

Serosh ripped off the silver ring. And readied to throw it away. Unable to get his footing from the weight of his baby-filled testicles, falling to his back. He could feel his balls constricting. Bringing the closer to his cock. “What is happening!” He roared out and started to feel a sharp pain surge through him.

He could feel the base of his shaft starting to stretch as the baby moved into position. It hurt like hell, he clenched his fists gripping and ripping out blades of grass as part of his overgrown nails dug into his palm. When the baby stopped moving for a moment he tried to catch his breath. He cursed that woman's fowl magics for this. Yet without delay the baby began to move again, moving further and further into the shaft.

He could see it. His cock looked like it had inflated well beyond the size it was supposed to be. The baby's head was just under the tip of his cock which he could feel was starting to open wide. He felt the baby descend back a little before starting to move up and stretch the head of his cock. He howled in pain as his urethra was stretched beyond its means. He was tearing up blades of grass and digging into the soil trying to find anything, something he could grip onto.

Imprints of his nails in some while the skin was broken in others. His eye of his cock was pulsing as the baby's head crept out. He was crowning. He looked down at this macabre scene and saw the baby's head as it crept through his shaft again. More of the head became exposed, as much as the forehead was out now. His eyes were watering his teeth clenched, his fists raw and bloodied.

Once more the baby began to come through the entire head finally coming loose. But there was no reprieve, it kept sliding out. The shoulders were next as the weight of his cock flopped onto his chest. The baby was being pushed out as he writhed in pain. The greatest mass of the baby was the body as it came sliding out now free from the tightest confines of his once tight urethra.

He could feel the newborn fussing on his chest letting out their first sounds crying in desperation all whole the after birth came slithering out as his cock. Here he was, the once-great Serosh. A conquerer, a slayer of men, reduced to this.

Serosh could no longer feel his cock as it twitched and closely closed. Yet this wasn't the end. That same feeling came to the base of his shaft. It was happening again, the numbness of his cock didn't reduce the pain he felt as another baby made its way up the shaft. Again his cock flared and swelled this time the baby wasn't stopping going up the shaft until it reached the base of the head. He dug and dug until his fingers reached a thick root to grab onto.

Baby number two began to crown stretching his head even more. He could see the top of the head. His cock flopped back into his body, as more of the head came free. The first baby was crying, he was groaning in terrible pain. By the time the shoulders were nearly out he almost blacked out. Another baby birthed from his cock resting atop his body.

He couldn't move the sound of the babies crying as his vision went dark. He awoke hours later it was already night. The babies were off of his body and he lay next to a fire. She was barely able to lift himself.

"Awake I see,"

He knew that voice, it was her, it was the witch. He turned to fave her seeing her cradling her own baby with his twins nestled in baskets cleaned and swaddled.

"You!" Serosh roared through his teeth

“I see you have yet to quell your anger. Perhaps another set will do the trick,”

He paused. Never before has he ever doubted himself. His rage faded fast like sniffing out a candle. The witch simply smirked seeing him like this.

“Why have you come?” Serosh asked her

“To see if you have finally learned something,”

“In a way,” Serosh responded

“And that would be?”

Serosh's response was simple “Never threatened a witch”

“Such wise words coming from a warrior who fears nothing.”

Serosh let himself fall back to the ground.

“Rest, your new journey will begin when you are rested.”

The silver ring appeared again on his middle finger. No runes or symbols, it was just an ordinary silver ring. Even though he felt as if there was magic still in it. His body was still sore and numb. The ring gave him what it knew he needed. Touch of kindness, that only a father would understand and compassion, that only a mother could truly know.

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