The effervescent splashing of cascading water drew her forward beyond the shadowy depths of the forest and through the last tangled bushes. Squeezing through the tight thicket of thorny branches, the Goddess Freya emerged into a half acre sized, sunlit clearing. She pulled her protective, forest green cloak free from the tenacious brambles, flicking broken thorns away from where they'd caught on the draw strings of her tightly laced, soft leather bodice.

Examining the hidden dell, Goddess Freya looked around entranced, charmed by the sheer loveliness of the small clearing so well protected by the almost intractable underbrush. This marvelous glade stood nestled within the stony cliffs that formed part of the natural barrier marking the border between Midgard, a world of man, and Jotunheim, the land of the Frost Giants. The ice capped, towering stone heights rose straight up at least 1000 feet high, brooding coldly over an otherwise idyllic scene. In contrast to the exposed gray stone of the forbidding mountains, a shaft of warm, golden sunlight lit the glade itself.

An inviting pond of sparkling, clean water took up fully half the glade -- with the rest given over to grassy hillocks and patches of iridescent wildflowers. Water plunged from the height of the cliffs, warmed by the afternoon sun before it crashed down into the deep, impossibly clear pool. A perpetual rainbow stood out from the mist surrounding the waterfall, adding a feeling of magic to the air. The musical gurgling of a small brook let away from the pond, draining off the excess water added by the waterfall.

The Goddess stood transfixed, enjoying her view of the delightfully shaped, naked backside of an incredibly muscular, well built young man. The fellow was standing knee-deep in the small lake, wringing out the water from his long, chestnut brown hair, clearly having just gone for a swim. As if enchanted, Freya absently released her braids, combing her fingers through her waist length golden hair -- her blonde mane obediently arranging itself in billowing waves of warm perfection. Discovering a bramble entwined firmly in her blonde locks, the lady murmured the slightest of incantations, removing any trace of dirt, foliage, or perspiration from her person by the least use of her magical art.

The Goddess caught her breath and felt her smile widened as the nude young man flexed and turned slightly to reveal his prominent manhood. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips sensuously, watching the sunlight glisten off his powerful, masculine body, even as the dazzling drops of water ran down his naked flesh. Freya smoothed her hands down her soft, leather corseted bodice. Seemingly of their own volition, her hands fairly flew as they undid the laces of her corset even as she glided forward silently. Her already barely contained breasts were spilling out of her top as she stepped a few paces to her left to have a better view of the impressive profile of the statuesque young man, as well is the impressive attribute she was focused on.

The fellow must've heard the Goddess moving because he turned, clearly startled, but he didn't move to cover his nakedness as he stared up at the beautiful, partially nude woman standing on the bank, removing her clothes. He smiled; seemingly mystified as to how such a flawless woman had suddenly appeared in such a private place. Goddess Freya allowed her light blue corset to fall to the ground behind her, leaving her clad only in her black leather pants and soft boots. When she rolled her shoulders and jiggled her large breasts enticingly, the young man gasped, his eyes locked on the magnificent globes bouncing before him. Laughing happily, the stunning young Goddess wriggled her way out of her skintight garments, leaving her body delightfully nude and inviting.

Freya laughed musically when the young man's mouth fell open, but he quickly recovered himself and bowed, moving to face her directly. He stood up straight and so did his manhood, his eyes merry as he took in the Goddess's abundant curves and lush valleys. He tried to speak, but his voice came out as a strangled gasp without a trace of coherent words. Sensuously licking her lips, the blonde haired Goddess glided forward seductively, laying her small hand on his bulging bicep. "Goodness -- you're so big and strong," she breathed, almost whispering. Lust almost dripped from her ruby red lips. "A fine figure of a man indeed! Your rippling muscles and... other male attributes... are most attractive to me, good sir."

"You're... you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he managed to stammer out. Blushing, the young man lowered his embarrassed eyes because of the obvious quaver in his voice. Freya stepped forward, close enough that his manhood was rigid against her taut belly. "Thank you sir. You find me pleasing then?" She arched one golden eyebrow and laughed musically when he nodded frantically. Mutely, she embraced him, their naked bodies pressed together in mutual, as yet unrequited lust.

After a passionate kiss, Freya stepped backwards, pulling the young man after her by his left wrist. Moving up onto the bank, she started to lie down on the grass but he stopped her, tugging her after him. He pulled her quickly across the glade to where his pile of clothes was lying. Gallantly, he spread out his soft fur cape for her to lie on. Smiling, she reclined on the luxurious white fur, pulling him down to lie beside her. Embracing, the young couple shared their love, slaking their passions for each other's bodies.

After an hour's fiery lovemaking, Freya lay across the young man's naked body, idly kissing his throat. She was content for the moment, but thrilled to see his body was responding to hers again. She barely noticed when he reached into the black fur pouch lying atop his discarded pile of clothing. Freya stopped what she was doing and gasped when she saw that he was holding an intricately carved bracelet made of polished gold. When he held it out to her as an offering, she smiled indulgently and graciously extended her left arm, allowing her princely young lover to fasten the unusual gold bracelet around her left bicep. The bracelet locked closed with a resounding clank of ominous finality.

Suddenly sick to her stomach, Goddess Freya violently shoved herself back, rising unsteadily and trying to stumble away from the man -- now unaccountably leering at her and laughing. As her mind clouded, she saw the young man's body distort like she was peering through a cloudy block of ice. Booming laughter surrounded her as she tumbled helplessly to the ground, mercifully unconscious.

Cold. The bitter cold permeating her flesh forced her awake. Goddess Freya struggled to move, her body almost frozen into ice. Shifting uncomfortably on a thin matting of straw spread haphazardly on the stone floor, she opened her bloodshot eyes and gazed at the featureless gray stone of her cell. The ceiling was easily 30 feet over her head, and the door itself was made from massive, stout oak planks bound with iron bars. It would take all her strength just to move such a door, she realized unhappily.

Shivering, Freya tried to sit up, which is when she first felt the full weight of the enormous, 20-pound iron ring locked around her slender throat. Except for the ridiculously outsized iron collar and the gold bracelet still firmly locked around her left bicep, she was naked, her fair skin bluish tinged from the bitter cold.

Goddess Freya closed her large, sapphire eyes, focusing her magical energies to cast a spell. As she slipped into the necessary mental state, she felt a wave of sickness envelope her, centered on the bracelet. The feeling made her so nauseous that she rolled over and vomited up what little was in her stomach, breaking her concentration completely. Rubbing her lips clean on the back of her hand, she pushed herself unsteadily to her hands and knees and allowed herself a moment of shadowy despair. In that darkest instant, the cell door swung open, and deep, bellowing laughter filled the stone cell. Looking up from her pathetic position on her knees, she involuntarily shrank back when she saw the Frost Giant Utgard Loki leering down at her.

Dressed in rough leathers and half hidden by unwashed furs, the powerful giant towered over her. Standing a full 25 feet tall, the massively built giant had his hands hooked in his wide leather belt, his laughter shaking his bulging belly. Utgard's long bluish-white hair was wild, and his beard was matted with congealed fat -- presumably from his last meal. He was surrounded by an aura of authority -- being a potent sorcerer as well as a Lord of the Frost Giants. Unfortunately for her, his vast power couldn't hide the overwhelming stench of his filthy body. His boots were brown with dried blood, and smeared with mud. Freya cringed, covering her nose as she tried to breathe through her mouth in the presence of the rank Frost Giant.

“What’s the matter ‘Goddess’?” boomed Utgard mirthfully. “You certainly seemed taken with me by the waterfall! Has your ardor cooled now that I’ve dispelled my illusion of lust?” For an instant, Freya saw the handsome young stud standing where Utgard had been and despite herself, she felt a quivering of unquenchable desire wash over her. She realized now that her unreasoning, animal passion was part of the illusion spell – so skillfully woven by Utgard Loki that she hadn’t detected anything amiss before the enchanted bracelet felled her and stole her strength and magic.

Mustering up what bravado she could from her position helplessly kneeling on the floor at Utgard's feet, the naked Goddess bristled, “Release me now, Frost Giant! Release me or feel my terrible wrath, foul defiler of women!”

Bellowed laughter answered her, along with a contemptuous glob of vile spittle from Utgard’s lips. Freya cringed back, scrubbing the filth from her bare flesh and shuddering. “While you wear my bespelled trinket,” he chuckled, “you're in my power, my pretty little wench. Your formidable magics are forbidden to you, as is your legendary prowess with weapons. You have no more strength in your limbs than has a lass from Midgard, little Goddess. So keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll flay the skin from your back with my whip before I allow you to serve me.”

Goddess Freya tried to evade the brutish Frost Giant when he reached for her, but she was too slow, being half frozen and weighed down by unaccustomed weakness and iron bonds. Wrapping his tightly clenched hands around her slender waist and squeezing the breath from her, Utgard lifted Freya like she was a doll. He ran his gnarled thumbs over her naked breasts, ignoring her squeals of protest as easily as he did her pounding fists. Shrieking with rage, the Goddess could do nothing except bat at his powerful arms and kick her bare legs ineffectually.

Casually carrying her out of her cell, Utgard dropped Freya unceremoniously on the frozen stone floor of the dungeon corridor, next to an oversized bucket of foul smelling, slushy water. “Get on your knees, ‘Goddess’!” he commanded. “Scrub the floors as my newest drudge, little Vanir. If you work hard, perhaps you’ll be given scraps from my table for your supper before you’re locked up for the night.”

Grinding her teeth with rage, the Goddess nevertheless sullenly capitulated and wrung out a rag from the bucket, getting down on her hands and knees to scrub the muddy floor. Utgard stood over her, laughing as he watched her debase herself before him like the lowest of scullery maids. “That Bracelet of Thralldom will never come off, little goddess!” he bragged. “You haven’t the strength to unfasten the lock, nor the magic, as long as you wear it. And you’ll wear it for the rest of your days. Please me, and you may remain the lowest of my drudges and work in my castle. Displease me, and you’ll end up in the stew for my dinner.” The cruel giant laughed, “Either way, I’ll have the beauteous Freya for my pleasure whenever I please!” Snorting at his own pitiless joke, he moved away, his footfalls thundering as he walked.

Hours stretched into days... days became weeks. Scrubbing floors, gutting game, fetching and carrying -- Goddess Freya was forced to work hard 20 hours every day, toiling in Utgard Loki's castle as a slave to his power. Always half frozen by the oppressive cold, the Vanir was worked like a beast of burden, punished brutally with kicks and slaps for resting more than a minute between tasks. The Goddess was even required to be Utgard Loki's serving wench in his great Hall, carrying scalding platters of roasted meat on her back and lugging great tubs of mulled wine to the Frost Giant and his loyal minions. What little she was given to eat was fed to her by the hand of Utgard himself, the way a master would feed his pet. Through it all, the Goddess suffered in silent shame, bidding her time until she could have her revenge.

One brutally cold night, into the castle stumbled a rather young and inexperienced Frost Giant named Throck. This immature fellow didn't even have his full growth, standing barely 18 feet tall and not nearly as muscular and filled out as the other male giants of the household. They treated him with rough contempt, almost like an idiot child, tripping him when he passed by and laughing uproariously when he slammed to the ground. Throck was ugly even for a Frost Giant, and Freya could barely stand to look at him, but his arrival sparked the gleam of a plan within her cunning mind.

The Goddess teased her long, blonde hair forward, hiding the gold bracelet locked around her bicep. She put an extra wriggle into her step, flirtatiously staring up at the Frost Giant and licking her lips whenever he was near. From the way his eyes tracked her every motion when she was in the same chamber, and the way his breath quickened whenever she smiled up at him and jiggled her breasts, Throck was clearly enthralled by the curvaceous, flirtatious Goddess.

After enticing him for several days, Freya let her hair fall back for a moment, exposing the gold bracelet on her arm. She quickly covered it with her thick, yellow hair again, pretending to hide the enchanted ornament from him. She repeated this behavior several times over the course of the afternoon, making excuses to be close to Throck whenever possible. Finally, she was scrubbing the floor of his sleeping chamber when he came in alone.

The Frost Giant picked up the gorgeous, young Goddess, casually thumping down into his great oak chair and setting her on his lap. Hiding her disgust, the Goddess snuggled close to him, pressing her rounded, naked body against him eagerly, making him blush and stammer. When he smoothed back her hair, his hand came to rest on the gold bracelet.

Shrinking back from Throck, Freya exclaimed in a carefully crafted, frightened voice, "Oh please, great master, don't take away my Bracelet of Beauty! I beg you not to remove the enchantment. I'll do anything for you, please you however I can, if only you'll allow me to keep it."

Slowly Throck asked dully, "What's the bracelet do? Is it magic?"

Goddess Freya looked all around as if not wanting to be overheard, and then leaned forward and whispered, "It makes me look like this. If I were a man, I would have become big and strong and someone whom all the girls desire. Because I'm a girl, it makes my face beautiful and my figure desirable." The Goddess pouted prettily, stroking the bracelet affectionately. "I beg you not to remove it, Master Throck, or I'll become small and plain again, and all the magic will be transferred to you."

The Frost Giant was moving his lips, slowly working his way through a thought. When he finally got there, he grinned happily, "Give me the magic, wench. I want to be big and strong and handsome. If I am, Ursa -- the prettiest of the Frost Maidens -- will finally be my wife."

Reluctantly, tears running down her face, Freya extended her arm. Crowing with delight, Throck tugged at the bracelet, almost pulling Freya's arm off. She cried out, waving her hand in his face to stop him. Sobbing for real this time, the Goddess pointed at the latch, coaching him into how to open the bracelet and remove it. It took a little doing, and she felt like her arm had been almost ripped from its socket before he was finished, but finally the Frost Giant slid the bracelet from her arm.

Feeling her strength returning, Goddess Freya nimbly jumped backwards, landing on the floor a dozen feet away from Throck. The dull witted giant poked at the bracelet, trying to figure out how to get it onto his wrist even though it was clearly too small. He completely ignored the spectacle occurring before him.

Centering her mind quickly, Freya's eyes glowed with a golden fire. The iron collar snapped open, crashing to the ground, it's heaviness no longer weighing down the Goddess. Gathering her magical force, Freya glowed brighter, radiating a green and golden magical force around her naked body. Heat pulsed from her skin like she was a miniature Sun.

Throck jerked his head up, staring at the glowing Goddess a moment before covering his eyes and screaming incoherently with fear. The Frost Giant diminished in size, melting away before the force of her power. Throck dropped the bracelet, forgetting its false promise. The enchanted gold melted away, destroyed by the fire of Freya's terrible rage.

Turning away from what little remained of Throck, Goddess Freya stalked through Utgard Loki's castle, blasting open closed doors as she came to them. Entering the great Hall at the center of the castle, Freya screamed a guttural cry of anger and hatred at Utgard Loki, who was sitting on his throne drinking from his goblet of mead. The mighty Frost Giant dropped the goblet, jumped up, and fled in terror, taking the form of an eagle as he abandoned his home. Blasting fire magic after her fleeing captor, she singed his wings, forcing a scream of pain from the retreating sorcerer and greatly diminishing him in size.

The walls melted and the doors collapsed under the fiery fury of the puissant Deity. Throwing back her arms, she screamed her vengeance into the sky, blasting the roof of the ice castle away. Two of the castle turrets collapsed immediately, and the walls were pushed back, huge stone slabs falling away.

Five Frost Giants charged into the Great Hall, the one in the lead armed with a sword, three carrying axes and one wielding a club. Several Giant Maidens and their children were crowded into the entranceway, cheering on their men-folk and prepared to enjoy the struggle. These were the Giants, along with Utgard Loki, who had so tormented Freya.

Screaming out her battle lust, Goddess Freya charged directly at the lead Giant, dodging his swinging sword and springing directly for his throat. The force of her leap was so great and the strength of her arms so mighty that she snapped his neck like he was a boy instead of a Giant four times her size. Riding his dead body down to the stone floor, the Goddess managed to snag his immense sword out of midair, continuing its twirl so it decapitated the stunned Frost Giant next to her.

With two of her tormentors dead, the Goddess turned to the remaining three with a snarl. One of the Frost Giants continued his charge, lifting his ax and bellowing angrily. Deftly, Freya ran between his legs, slicing upwards with the broadsword with such force that the Giant was severed into two equal halves. The children screamed, and the Frost Maidens fled, dragging the younglings along with them. Freya leaped forward, blocking the exit so the two remaining Frost Giants could not escape.

Whirling her broadsword above her head, Goddess Freya hurled it with deadly accuracy at the Frost Giant still holding an ax. She pierced his eye, splattering his brains onto the wall behind him, killing him instantly. Advancing with grim determination, the Goddess called a ball of roiling gold-green fire into her hands, preparing to blast the remaining Frost Giant.

Dropping to his knees and then pressing his face against the floor, the Giant flung aside his club and pleaded, "Spare me, great Lady! I beg of you, please spare my life, Lady of the Vanir. I did nothing to free you, but I never abused you, most powerful Goddess. I beg you to show mercy for myself and my children."

Panting from her exertion, Goddess Freya stalked around the groveling Frost Giant. She ground her teeth in anger, spitting out, "Why should I show you mercy when you had none for me?"

The Frost Giant sobbed, "I beg you great Lady, I have done you no good, but I promise to never do harm to you or any you hold dear. I will exile my family and myself and I bind my descendents to my promise, so I swear by mighty Yimr, father of us all."

Letting go of her fury, Goddess Freya allowed the magical fireball to die. She intoned coldly, "Take your family and flee. Tell your kinsmen and those you meet the fate of Utgard Loki and his castle. I bind you by your promise to me by Yimr, father of all Frost Giants. You may depart in peace."

Bowing once more, the Frost Giant turned and fled, leaving everything he owned behind. Surveying the ruined Hall and the bodies of her foes, Goddess Freya allowed herself to feel some small satisfaction. Her hated enemies had sought to overwhelm her with great size and strength, but the Frost Giants were no match for her battle prowess backed by her seething anger at their despicable treatment of her.

With the Frost Giants dead or fled and the castle ruined, Goddess Freya nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Ill-used for several weeks, and half starved, she recovered her strength by devouring what little foodstuffs she could find that she could actually stomach. Wrapping herself in a mostly clean fur, the Goddess made her way from Utgard Loki's ruined Keep. As she traveled away from Jotunheim, those few Frost Giants she encountered took one look at her angry countenance and blood-spattered body and fled from the Goddess in fear.

Of Utgard Loki himself, there was no sign for more than a year.