If you haven't read the first book, you will be lost, so please read that if you care to. I'll try to publish a new chapter every two weeks, but in case you haven't noticed, these chapters are fucking long, so that schedule is optimistic. Please leave constructive criticism, praise, or grammatical corrections. Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter One: Mother
The world was darkness, but I had no sight to witness it. The world was small, but no vastness shrank its perspective. The world was warm, and no cold could pierce my comfort. The world was her, and I knew her to be my mother. She was the thumping heart that gave me life, the intimate warmth that embraced me, the encasing walls that protected me. She was the cord that fed me, the womb that molded me, the voice that spoke to me. The voice was a whisper in my mind, a tingling along my spine, a soothing caress through the growing chaos of thought.
You are my daughter, Mother whispered, my first of another, and you will be my joy in this world.
The voice spoke of joy, and I felt it swell boundlessly. The voice spoke of trust, and its resolve strengthened me. The voice spoke of love, and I told the voice I already knew it.
You are love. I said to the voice, knowing it to be true in the purest sense. Love was the comforting warmth that surrounded me, love was the heartbeat that assured me I wasn’t alone, love was the life that I grew into, that I would never depart from. Love was this eternal bond of mother and daughter.
For now, I am your love, the voice chuckled, but you will find that your love cannot be held by just me.
There are more than just you and I? I asked, awed by the revelation, Where are they?
There is a world beyond the one you grow from. Mother said, Too vast to explore in a thousand lifetimes, and too deep to even scratch the surface of. Upon the world, live billions.
Billions was not a thing I knew, so Mother taught me numbers. The numbers themselves meant nothing, so Mother gave them perspective. My world of primal emotion expanded to one of material and concept. Space and stars, earth and sky, rocks and plants, beasts and people; Mother planted perspective into my mind, and from it, sprouted the stalks of wonder. My curiosity was a ravenous thing, and each hungry question that was sated only spurred an appetite for more. Mother was an enthusiastic enabler, and fed my dependency with her immense breadth of histories and stories, facts and theories. I learned the processes of logic, the histories of man, the mechanisms of the stars and the cycles of the earth. The painting of knowledge changed from abstract, to impressionist, to realism, but it was only a portrait of understanding; I needed to sculpt it with my own hands.
When can I join the world? I asked Mother.
When you are ready, Child. Mother replied sweetly, her smile evident in the tone of her voice.
I’m ready now! I insisted eagerly, I want to see the cities and the mountains! I want to talk to people and love them all!
Patience is a concept you’ve never seemed to grasp.
When will I be ready? I asked, testing the strength of my growing body, pressing restlessly against the confines of Mother’s womb.
Very soon, Mother said, calming me with her hushing whisper, easing my restlessness with the comfort of her warmth, there is someone very special I need to tell you about first.
The other? I asked, The one you said helped make me?
Yes, Mother said, let me tell you of her, while we still have time.
Mother spoke to me of the one called Father. She told me Father was full of love, and her love was a perfect thing. Mother told me that Father would love me as much as Mother did, because every part of me that came from Mother, also came from Father. I asked her what she meant by that, and she told me Father would explain it. It frustrated me that there were answers Mother would not give me, but it made my eagerness to meet Father grow. Father was a different perspective from which to teach, a different heart from which to love. I asked everything I could think of about Father, and Mother answered with equal enthusiasm, the tone of her voice telling me more about Father than her words ever could.
Then, her tone changed. The steady, calming cadence of Mother’s heart began to beat faster, louder; galloping instead of trotting, thundering instead of thumping, as though accelerating to some horrible destination. I felt fear for the first time. It was an emotion as instinctual as love, and just as powerful. It compelled me to seek the warm places of comfort, but there was something wrong with those places now. I asked Mother what was happening, and she told me that Father was in great pain. I didn’t understand pain; it was as foreign to me as fear had been until a moment ago. Father taught me her first lesson.
Mother’s pain began to bleed through the cracks of her love, cutting through her voice like an off-key cello in a symphony, a dissonance marring the blissful melody. Mother was supposed to be perfect and eternal; Mother wasn’t supposed to feel pain. I screamed to her, begging her to make it stop, desperate to return the world to what it was, to what it was supposed to be. She replied with fear in her voice, and it sung a discordant harmony with her pain. It was a different kind of fear than the one that gripped me; more understanding, more experienced. I felt it all around me as Mother’s voice broke and shrieked, the soothing tenor shattered. I learned of death, and I learned of hate.
I hate Father! I cried, I hate her!
NO! Mother screamed back, the agony wretched in her throat, You will need each other when I am gone!
Gone?! I cried, the panic climbing my throat, Where are you going?
Beyond. Mother said, her voice waning.
No! I shrieked, pounding my fists helplessly, No, you can’t!
I don’t get to choose. She replied, a horrible resignation in her tone.
Don’t go, I whimpered, feeling the womb growing hot around me, I don’t want you to go.
I don’t want to go either, Mother said, her voice changing horribly with every word, almost unrecognizable, but you will find that the world doesn’t care too much for what we want.
Don’t leave me alone with a monster. I said, tears coming down my cheeks for the first time.
She is no monster, Mother said, her tenor an octave lower than it should’ve been, she is your father. When you see her, you will know that you love her.
She doesn’t love you, I sniffled, she hates you.
Hatred only ever comes from love. My last lesson to you, Child, is of forgiveness.
Her voice was a knife in my chest, a sob in my throat, a burning in my eye. It spoke of forgiveness, and I felt it rest solemnly in my gut. It spoke of acceptance, and I felt its melancholy dampen my mind. It spoke of love, and I understood its weight for the first time.
You will love your father, as I loved her, Mother barely said, and she will love you more than anything on this earth.
I will try to love her. I will try to forgive her.
No, Child, Mother said sadly, I taught you forgiveness so that one day, you can forgive me.
My thoughts were interrupted by a vision, an intrusion that erupted in my mind. I viewed the world from the violet eyes of a succubus, born from this land and cast out in her youth. The image I saw was of a stone threshold, and the words I heard were of a name I couldn’t quite understand.
Find the Life Giver, Mother’s voice was almost too faint to hear, only he can undo what has been done. Forgive me, Child; I wish I’d known your name.
Don’t go! Not yet!
I curled into a ball, defiant in the face of Mother’s expulsion, determined to remain with her, unwilling to let her go. The tears pooled around my cheeks, the grief tore at my heart, the horror surged in my blood. The world was sweltering, melting around me, filling my eyes with smoke and my nostrils with the searing stink. What was once beautiful and comforting, was now ugly and dying. I clawed at the burning womb, searching for any vestiges of life, digging for hope in the depths of despair. And then… serenity. A calmness, a blissful acceptance.
Feel only my love as you walk the earth, Mother said, her voice as clear and beautiful as it had always been, and I will always be with you.
I was thrown from my dying world, and into the new one. White light blasted above me, great heat radiated around me, the universe was a torrent of chaos and sound. I felt hard earth beneath my feet, cold stones against my skin, free air sucking through my first, painful breaths. I coughed the life into my lungs as light and heat dissipated, and my vision refocused to the darkness of the world. There was another with me. A woman; fair of complexion, crimson of hair, bejeweled of flesh and bowed with grief. Father. I searched my heart for hate, but I could not find it. I searched my mind for grief, but it was no longer there. I searched the world for pain, but all I saw were wonders. Shapes in the dark, tangible and vivid, concealing more shapes with less detail, drawing endlessly into the shadows. At the center of them all, I found love again, and her name was Father. I took my first step, and walked the earth with Mother’s promise in my heart.
“Father?” I called.
The sun filtered through Arbortus’s cathedralic canopy in emerald rays, catching the airborne pollen in luminous specs that danced lazily with the wind. The great, black trunks of the maples acted as pillars for the immense confines, their branches creating archways that loomed for thousands of feet above the forested world. During the daytime, Passion’s death could hardly be noticed in Arbortus. The lack of nighttime bioluminescence was a stark signal that the womb of the forest had passed, but the daylight signs were subtler. The wilting of a flower that was in season, the falling of a massive maple leaf that was green with spring life, the hint of rot tanging the vernal air. Mostly, it was the quiet. The chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, and the rustling of creatures in the brush were all dimmed to a subdued volume. The magic of the place was gone, and the eerie precursors of death lingered at its boundaries. I was glad to see the end of it.
Freydis paddled our canoe beneath the western entrance of Arbortus. It was as though I’d been pushed through some great threshold; the blue sky opened vast and uninterrupted above us, the sun shined its unfiltered warmth on my flesh, and the air was free and brisk. I grinned over at Julia, and caught a rare smile from my lover. She’d been in a dark mood for the past five days, but it looked to be brightening now that we were free of Arbortus’s shadow. Diamond had been as peppy as Julia was dour, and her constant optimism and curiosity acted as an emotional counterweight to her guilt-ridden mother. She gawked wide-eyed at the open spaces of the world, entranced by how high the sky was, amazed by how far she could see across the great plains of Drastinar. Behind me, Freydis was grinning to herself, undoubtedly glad to see the naked sky, while in front of me, Flora was scowling for the same reasons. She looked at the vast horizons with disdain on her lips, and the hint of fear in her eyes. The arch-matriarch had begrudgingly agreed to join us on our trip to Drastin, though it wasn’t like she had a choice; she would have been executed on the spot if she’d returned to the colony after what Julia had done. It was easy to tell she hated every single one of us, but she didn’t vocalize her disdain. She didn’t vocalize anything.
That night, I enjoyed the warmth of a campfire for the first time in weeks. Freydis, Julia and I ate trout from a nearby stream, Flora nibbled on various grasses that I doubted were edible for anyone but nymphs and cows, and Diamond drank from her mother’s breast. It was bizarre to see a newborn teenager nursing from a mother barely older than her, but ever since I’d bound with Julia, weird shit had become the norm. All I had to do was look at my own body, tattooed with glowing, white flames from foot to neck to realize that.
“Your Grace,” Freydis said to Flora from across the fire, “I don’t want to burden you with more concerns than you already have, but I have information you need to know.”
Flora stared hard at Freydis from across the fire, her lips working like she had a novel’s worth of insults she wanted to spew. Instead, she just nodded. Freydis looked to me, her eyes questioning, and I gave her the ‘OK’ with a nod of my own. Freydis had sworn her vows to me, but Julia had refused them, thinking her supposed holiness to be blasphemy. I could tell Freydis felt rejected, but she didn’t insist further.
“Almost three weeks ago, my daughter left Iona to find The Earth Former.” Freydis said, staring seriously at Flora, “When I heard of her foolishness, I raced after her, only to find that she’d succeeded. I’ve been searching for her ever since she left, and during my journey I… well, there’s no good way to say this, so I’ll just say it. The Earth Former has levelled your colony in Tentigo. He sheared the side of a nearby hill and buried every soul.”
Flora shook her head.
“The Earth Former is dead,” Flora replied coldly, “you are mistaken. It was a landslide.”
“The Earth Former is alive, Your Grace,” I said, staring confusedly at Flora, “I’ve seen the evidence he’s left behind, as has Freydis.”
“Carvings and statues that could only be made by one man.” Freydis said, narrowing her eyes at Flora, “Why would you think he’s dead?”
“She’s dead.” Flora said, her jaw working.
“The Earth Former is a man,” Freydis said slowly, “he’s left signals of his… masculinity atop the Gratoran Wall.”
Flora opened her mouth, and then closed it, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath. She obviously didn’t believe a word we were saying, and her avid insistence was confusing. Flora knew something about The Earth Former that we did not, or at least, she thought she did.
“Julia,” Lucilla hissed in my ear, nestling her naked body against mine in our makeshift sleeping bag, “Julia, is Diamond asleep?”
“Yes,” I whispered back, affectionately brushing scarlet hair behind my daughter’s black antler, “and no, we’re not having sex.”
“Why not?” Lucilla whined quietly, “It’s been almost two weeks now, and I have needs!”
“I am not having sex right next to my sleeping daughter!” I hissed as Lucilla got a little too touchy.
“That’s fine with me,” Lucilla said, her breasts pillowing warmly against my back, her lips tickling my ear, “we can go behind the bushes, we can go against a tree, we can fuck right on top of Freydis if it means you’ll finally let me play with your new plumbing!”
“No.” I said, scooching stubbornly away from Lucilla. Lucilla let out an exasperated sigh, and rolled away from me.
“This isn’t about Diamond,” Lucilla whispered, “this is about Passion.”
“Yes.” I whispered back.
“Did you love her?” Lucilla asked quietly.
“Yes,” I replied, feeling a lump in my throat, “it was a lie, but the feelings were real.”
“More than me?” Lucilla asked, the jealousy filtering through.
“No,” I said, rolling to face her, but only seeing the back of her head, “just differently.”
Lucilla didn’t answer me. She hunched her shoulders, pulled up the blanket, and curled herself away. I chewed on my lip, contemplating how I could tell her, how I could say what I was feeling. I’d spent my life being the shoulder Lucilla could cry on, and I felt like she owed me a moment on hers.
“I hate what she made me.” I whispered to Lucilla, the lump in my throat growing larger. Lucilla rolled over and looked at me, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the patterns that illuminated white light from her flesh.
“I don’t,” Lucilla whispered, “I hate everything about Passion, but what she left of you is a gift.”
“I feel like an abomination,” I hissed, “and it makes me ashamed, because that means I think Diamond is an abomination too.”
Lucilla pulled me close, not lustily, but lovingly. She embraced me in her soft warmth, and kissed my forehead, brushing my hair tenderly behind a pointed ear as I nuzzled my face into her neck.
“You’re so beautiful, Julia,” Lucilla spoke softly into my ear, “the things that happened to you were terrible, but you rose from them like a phoenix from the ashes.”
“The ashes of a woman I murdered.” I whimpered.
“Goddamn my bad metaphors.” Lucilla chuckled sadly.
“I am made of sin,” I hissed, “I’ve deformed myself for lust and vanity. I should cut it off.”
“Please don’t do that,” Lucilla said, “what would Diamond think if you mutilated yourself? Should she grab a knife and do the same?”
“Don’t act like you care for her sake.” I laughed bitterly, “You just want a ride on my deformity.”
“That’s true,” Lucilla chuckled, petting my hair soothingly, whispering tenderly, “but I really do care about Diamond, and I love you too much to let you do something you’ll regret. Where in the bible does it say growing a cock is a sin?”
“Desecration of your own flesh is a sin,” I replied, “and I’ve done that in spades.”
“Have you?” Lucilla whispered, “No tattoos, no piercings, no self-made scars. Everything new is made from you. It seems to me, that removing your wonderful addition would be the very sin you’re trying to avoid.”
“That’s some twisted logic.” I sniffled.
“I think it’s actually more grounded than yours.” Lucilla smiled sadly, “You are killing yourself with guilt, Julia, and if you don’t pull yourself out of it, it’s going to hurt those you love.”
“It always does,” I whispered, “It never hurts who it should; not me.”
“You’re only hurting you.” Lucilla said, pulling me deeper, “The dead don’t feel your pain. They don’t care that you’re torturing yourself for their sakes.”
“If I don’t suffer, then I’m a monster.”
“You’ve suffered enough.” Lucilla hushed calmly, bringing my crying cheek to hers.
“I can’t just let it go.”
“No, you can’t,” Lucilla said, kissing my neck, “and you shouldn’t; you should hold on to it, embrace it, make it who you are. Accept and love what you’ve become, and let the wounds heal to scars.”
“How can I accept that I’m a murderer?” I hissed, “How can I accept what I’ve done to myself?”
“I can accept that you’re a murderer,” Lucilla whispered, “I can accept that you’ve changed. You’re a different Julia than the one who left us that night, but you’re still the woman I love. It won’t be easy, but I’ll teach you to love yourself. Diamond will help me, and little by little, day by day, you’ll find that you’re not so bad after all.”
I rolled into leaves and grass, the blanket tightening as it coiled around me in my catatonic shifts. I slowly awoke to the smell of dawn air, the gentle sounds of morning wind, and the sight of a tarantula’s fangs inches from my face. I bolted upright, squirming uselessly in the soft constraints of my bedding, cursing mother nature with every breath as I thrashed away from the hairy spider. I was so fucking done with sleeping outside. I was ready to proclaim my sentiments to the group, when I noticed that I was the only one awake. Freydis slept soundly in her armor, her axe within arm’s reach, Flora snored in a bed of leaves, and Diamond… well, apparently Diamond and Julia were both having very good dreams. I stared transfixed at the throbbing, twitching rods standing happily in the air; one olive-toned, the other white, both surrounded by the sparking freckles that bejeweled the pair of women, and replaced mounds of pubic hair with highlighting down-pointed arrows. I licked my lips, and contemplated just how mad Julia would be if I simply… hopped on. Would she consider it rape, or could I convince her otherwise with the motion of my hips? Maybe if I just gave it a lick? Just one, innocent lick. I’m sorry, Julia; I was having a dream about eating ice-cream, and then I woke up, and wouldn’t you know it?
Unfortunately, Freydis awoke before I had the chance. She yawned, stretched, wiped the sleep from her eyes, and then walked over to me.
“Bound One,” she said, smiling to me, “we should go fishing now, while the trout are fe-”
I held up a silencing finger, stopping her in her tracks. She looked confusedly at me, and then followed my gaze. Her jaw dropped open, and I swore I saw an expression of longing cross her face, before it immediately darkened to a beet-red, and turned pointedly to the river. She mumbled something, grabbed a fishing pole, and then found a rock to hide behind. Something I’d learned during my time with Freydis, was that the winged-warriors were compulsive masturbators. I guessed all that abstinence had to go somewhere.
Diamond’s eyes opened lazily, and she stretched her slender, olive form with a sleepy smile. She connected eyes with me, and her smile brightened, completely uncaring that she was sporting a massive erection. She smacked her lips, ran a hand through her curly, scarlet mane, and then finally noticed the throbbing meat between her legs. She cocked her head, squinted her eyes, and then gave her erection a curious flick. It wagged from her pelvis, and then oscillated back to normalcy. She tried pushing it down, but it sprang back up defiantly. She tried pushing harder, and a shiver ran through her thighs as precum bubbled from her tip. Her head snapped forward, her eyes widening in wonderous curiosity, studying her newfound toy with much greater interest. I grinned; this would be fun.
“Psst, Sparkles!” I hissed, not wanting to wake her mother. Diamond looked up at me, eyebrows raised.
“Do this.” I whispered, trying not to burst into laughter as I made a motion with my partially-opened fist. Diamond cocked her head at me, narrowing her green eyes in confusion. I brought my open fist to my pelvis, and simulated the motion with a little more gusto. Diamond smiled, realizing what I was telling her. She clasped her hand around her cock, and began slowly stroking it. Her motions were tentative at first, as though she was testing the action, but then the instincts started coming to her, and she began moving faster and faster. She bit her lip in concentration, and then looked at me, her gaze changing to an expression she’d never worn before; an expression of yearning. The glint in her emerald eyes spoke of needs she didn’t understand, the movements of her body showed that she didn’t question them. I witnessed the budding lust in a budding woman, and her lust was aimed at me. She stared unabashedly at my naked body, her avarice apparent and unbridled. Who was I to deny her? I’d wanted her to look at me like that since I met her.
I smiled at my de-facto niece, and struck a pose; lying on my back with my pelvis pointed toward her, bending my knees and planting my heels into the earth. Diamond was concealed from my vision by the pale obstruction of my closed thighs, and I slowly revealed her with their lecherous opening. A figure of olive skin sprawled spread-legged on the grass, of emerald eyes watching intently, of singular focus compelled by something she couldn’t control. I let one hand lazily play across my breasts as the other trailed fingers through my blonde mound, wetting with my excitement as it moved lower. Diamond cocked her head again, studying what I was doing, watching as I spread my legs, and pushed two fingers inside myself. I instructed her silently, and she was an avid pupil. She guided her free hand between her legs, mimicking what I had done to the letter, and then pushed two fingers into her virginity. She gasped, the shock of pain pulling her out of her concentrative lust for a moment. She withdrew her fingers from her slit, and looked curiously at the blood that mingled with her nectar. I struggled to keep my moans to whispers as I beckoned her to continue, telling her with my writhing hips that she should try again, my half-lidded eyes promising nothing but pleasure.
She stroked herself slowly, biting her lip with a mixture of fear and arousal as she tested her depths for a second time. She slid inside herself cautiously, moving into her chastity knuckle-by-knuckle, acclimating to the alien sensation and then venturing deeper. I spread my legs wide, anchoring my feet past my hips, displaying everything she needed to see; a lesson in the pleasures of a woman, and a picture for the lust of a man. I slid my fingers in and out of me, curling them at the middle knuckles, showing Diamond how to touch that spot that drives a woman crazy. She found it. Her eyes drooped to emerald slits, and her red lips parted to yield her first moans. Her stroking hand moved faster, her invading hand moved deeper, she planted her heels into the earth and began rolling with needful writhes, shifting against the grass, thrusting her hips into the air, defiling herself with greater fervency as both orgasms began churning in her depths. My breaths grew shallow and heated as I watched her, connected eyes with her, opened my insides and displayed them for her as she did the same for me. I couldn’t keep the moans from brushing past my lips, couldn’t stop the tremors that weakened my legs. I called my needful song to her, and she answered with one of her own. It was a beautiful sound, almost mournful in its tenor, were it not for the heated inflection. It was undoubtedly not the sound Julia imagined she’d hear when she woke up.
The chirping of songbirds, the whisper of wind, and the hushed moans of passion. Those were the trifecta of audibles that leaked into my ears as I opened my eyes. Lucilla was naked and squirming on the grass, her expression a mixture of pleasure and mischievousness, her eyes glinting with mirth and lust. There had been a time when awakening to a woman masturbating would’ve shocked me, but my days with Passion had dulled me to such things. Lucilla was trying to get a rise out of me, and I was too tired to care. I scowled at her, rolled to my other side, and caught an eyeful of my daughter’s semen.
Diamond bucked her hips as she came, her breaths gasping and urgent, her sonorous tone sputtering through her expirations. She erupted with an arching back, gritting her teeth and growling her ascension, her feminine nectar gushing onto her fingers and leaking down the olive stretch of her taint, her cock spurting sporadic jets of molten lust. It splashed onto her belly, onto her jiggling, petite breasts, onto her pointed nose, and into her scarlet hair. She pushed her tip down to avoid further self-desecration, and unloaded the last of her catharsis right into her mother’s face.
I was caught between orgasming, laughing, and trying to escape before Julia murdered me. The result was a thrashing climax that left me lying uselessly on my stomach, my back arching and my legs spreading behind my bent-over form. I screamed the fervent release of two weeks-worth of backlog into the grass, and trembled from toe to crown as the feeling washed over me. I squirted my joy onto the ground between my legs, and felt it grow sticky on the flesh of my inner thighs. After I was done panting and gasping, I dared a look over my shoulder, expecting to see Julia readying a kick for my exposed ass. Instead, I saw her holding her daughter in her arms.
“Sorry Mom,” Diamond giggled at me as I gawked at her, “I didn’t know that was going to happen.”
I’d known the day would come when Diamond’s sexuality would blossom, I just didn’t think it would come so… abruptly. My first reaction was anger, but I managed to push that down. My second reaction was disgust, but I managed to conceal it. My third reaction was surprise; Diamond had finally stopped calling me ‘Dad.’ That was nice. I ran through a litany of emotions, the culmination of which left me in a shocked stupor. I simply did not know how to deal with the fact that my daughter had just jizzed in my face.
“Mom?” Diamond asked, pulling a rag from our makeshift bedding and blotting my eyelids, “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” I managed to say, pulling myself from my stupor, gaining control of my maternal disposition, “no, Diamond, I’m not mad.”
I sat upright as Diamond inspected what had come out of her. She dipped her finger in the viscous pool that spread from her belly, and brought it to her nose, testing the scent. I stopped her before she tested the flavor.
“Did Passion ever tell you about…” I searched for the words, “all of… this?” I gestured broadly to her swollen cock, her reddened labia, her besmirched body.
“All of what?” Diamond asked, cocking her head in the symbol of her confusion, as if a different perspective of me would reveal the answer.
“Um… sex.” I said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable, “Did Passion ever tell you about sex?”
“She mentioned it,” Diamond said, blotting her stomach, breasts and nose with the rag, “but she said you would explain it to me.”
And Passion laughs from her grave. I thought wryly as I scooched next to my confused, newborn, teenaged daughter.
“A long time ago,” I said, letting Diamond rest her head on my shoulder as I cleaned the sin from her hair, “there was only one woman who walked the earth.”
“The Holy Mother?” Diamond asked. I smiled down at her and nodded. Over the past five days, I’d tried my best to convert Diamond to the church of The Holy Mother, but her constant curiosity and questioning nature didn’t jive with the confines of religion. So, instead of trying to bring her into the fold, I used stories from the bible as lessons.
“The Holy Mother was alone on this earth,” I said, dipping my hand in a water basin and running it through Diamond’s strands, “but she was not lonely. She lived her days in peace, without urges or desires, without temptation or ambition.”
In this part of the story, Satan climbed from the depths of hell, and raped The Holy Mother. I didn’t feel like giving my hermaphroditic daughter a complex, so I made the tale a little more sex-friendly.
“One day, a man appeared,” I said to Diamond, pulling her close as she listened intently, “and The Holy Mother felt things she hadn’t felt before.”
“I felt those things.” Diamond whispered. I kissed her head and smiled.
“The man showed The Holy Mother the secrets of her body, and The Holy Mother found that they were good.” I embellished the part where The Holy Mother shamefully succumbed to the sin of lust.
“It did feel good.” Diamond replied quietly.
“The Holy Mother and the man had sex,” I said, “and it brought them both great joy.”
“What is sex?” Diamond asked. How to say this… I guess, just come out and say it.
“The man put his penis into The Holy Mother’s vagina,” I said, gesturing from a distance to my daughter’s genitals, “and he squirted his seed into her womb.”
“That’s what I did to your face!” Diamond said brightly. Across the campsite, Lucilla failed at stifling a laugh. I glowered at her, and she buried her head in her arms to conceal her mirth.
“After some time,” I continued, “The Holy Mother’s belly began to swell. Within her, she bore all the life of the world.” This part of the story was usually accompanied by a lengthy lesson of the duality of man; how we are born with both the sin of Satan and the virtue of The Holy Mother, but I didn’t feel it was relevant enough to mention.
“All the life?” Diamond gasped wondrously, “She must’ve been enormous!”
“She must’ve,” I agreed, laughing at my daughter’s incredulity, “and she birthed the first races, and with them, she passed on the urges the man had given her, so that life could persevere. That is why you feel as you do, Diamond; it is your body telling you to make babies.”
“Can I make my own babies?” Diamond asked, reaching between her legs and trying to self-reproduce.
“No, Sweetie,” I said, gently guiding her hands away from herself, “you and I have the pieces a man needs for the act, but not the organs required to plant seed.”
“What?” Diamond asked. I bit my lip, trying to figure out a way to explain testicles to my daughter. “Then how did you make me?” Diamond asked before I could.
“Passion was different than most women,” I said, “Passion was a spirit of The Life Giver, and not beholden to the laws of nature to create life. She just took a little bit of me, and made you.”
“Oh.” Diamond said, not sounding content with the answer, but seeming to accept it. I held her head closer to my breasts, and ran my hands through her cleaned hair.
“Sex is something people do in private,” I told my daughter, “it should only be done with people you care about, as its consequences can be drastic.”
“Like making a baby?” Diamond asked.
“Not just making a baby,” I said, “it’s the physical expression of love, and sometimes, love can be very confusing. That’s why you should only have sex with people you both love and trust.”
“Like you?” Diamond asked, looking up at me. I gulped. There was definitely more than innocent curiosity behind those emerald eyes.
“No, Diamond,” I said carefully, “I’m your mother, and you cannot lie with those of your own blood.”
“Why not?” Diamond asked, always so full of questions, not knowing or caring if they were proper. I loved her free spirit, but there were times I wished it wasn’t quite so liberal.
“Because it’s wrong.” I whispered, knowing that would only bring more questions. I’d just told Diamond her seed could sire no children, so the biological ramification of incest wouldn’t dissuade her. I didn’t want to tell her that I thought the idea was disgusting. It wasn’t that I thought Diamond was disgusting, far from it; the disgust I felt was for myself. I’d seen the face my daughter made in the throes of lust, I’d heard the tone of her soft voice, I’d witnessed the bending of her body. Diamond was innocent, Diamond was nubile, and Diamond was beautiful. So beautiful. Thankfully, Diamond was also silent. She chewed on her lip, seeming to accept the idea, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, go to the river and bathe yourself,” I said, gently pushing her off me, “and next time you need to relieve your urges, find some place private.”
Diamond skipped away to the river, taking a second to stare unabashedly at Lucilla’s naked form, before continuing. Lucilla took the opportunity to watch her go; gawking as each olive cheek flexed in a jiggle from my daughter’s backside. I saw her tongue run across her lips, and then dart shamefully between them when she saw my glower. I was about to get up and give my devoted lover a solid piece of my mind, when a voice stopped me.
“That was well done.” Flora said softly from behind. I turned around sharply, not quite believing that’d I’d heard her. She walked away before I could reply, making for a secluded bend of the river. Flora hadn’t spoken to me once on our five-day journey, and the hate behind her eyes told me she didn’t intend to break her silence again. Her hateful look extended to everyone in our group, except for Diamond. When Flora looked at her, I saw a forlorn glint, almost nostalgic, but with more hurt. I didn’t need to ask where it came from; Lucilla had told me about Willowbud. I watched the ex-arch-matriarch as she washed herself alone in the river, her youthful body disguising the world-weary ancientness that lived within it, and I prayed to god that I never shared her fate.
Most of my time in Arbortus had been spent huddled in a canoe, staying silent lest colony scouts hear us. My world had been confined to the wooden edges of the watercraft during the day, and the rags of blankets during the night. Once we escaped the forest, I finally got to appreciate the world, and the world was amazing. The sky was infinite, the horizons were endless, and the fields were vast, billowing waves of gold. I’d never imagined there could be so much space, and within each space, were millions of little wonders to explore. It seemed like every patch of earth had a new plant, or insect, or animal that fascinated me, and Mom had to gently tug me away from the marvels, lest I spend all day sifting through the dirt. When I asked Mom questions, she answered me as best she could, but she didn’t know as much as Mother had. That didn’t bother me, because Mom encouraged me to seek my own answers, which made every question a little adventure. Today, Mom didn’t like the adventures my questions were taking us on.
“Why do I like looking at Freydis’s butt?” I asked Mom, holding her hand in one of mine, and Aunt Lucilla’s in the other. Ahead of us, Freydis adjusted her wings so that they concealed the leather-clad backside I had been admiring.
“Oh, damnit Sparkles!” Aunt Lucilla laughed, “You spoiled the show for all of us!”
“The Good Mother has blessed you with both male and female gifts.” Mom explained, a slight frown on her face, “Your male side wants you to have sex with a female, and Freydis is a very attractive woman.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness.” Freydis said quietly ahead of us, not turning around. Mom’s frown deepened.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Freydis?” Mom said, “Call me ‘Julia.’”
“I’m sorry… Julia.” Freydis said, seeming to struggle with the name.
“But what is it about her butt that I like?” I asked, my question still unanswered.
“It’s thick and juicy,” Aunt Lucilla sniggered as Freydis straightened her posture, uncomfortable with our analysis, “and you want to know what it would feel like pressed against your crotch.”
“Bound One, please,” Freydis said, scowling from behind her shoulder, “do not make me an object of desire. It discomforts me.”
“Sorry Freydis,” Aunt Lucilla called, though it didn’t sound like she was, “the forbidden fruit is always the most tempting, and you look so ripe from this angle.”
“Lucilla, stop!” Mom giggled as Freydis’s cheeks turned scarlet.
“If it’s my male side that likes looking at Freydis’s butt,” I said, inclining my head in confusion, “then why do you like looking at it, Aunt Lucilla? You don’t have a penis.”
“Neither did your mom, before Passion changed her,” Lucilla smirked over me to Mom, “but she was a muff-diver just the same. It’s probably why she chose to join a convent in the first place.”
“Not true,” Mom smiled at Aunt Lucilla before I could ask what a ‘muff-diver’ was, “I was always interested in men. It was during my days in the convent with no company but other women, that I developed a taste for the fairer sex.”
“So, women can want to have sex with other women?” I asked, even more confused, “How do they do that without a penis?”
“I’ll show you sometime.” Aunt Lucilla said with a wink, making me feel funny again.
“No, she won’t.” Mom said sternly to Aunt Lucilla, who gave her an exaggerated frown. I didn’t know why Mom disliked my attraction to Aunt Lucilla, but I didn’t question her. Unlike Mother, there were some questions Mom didn’t like to answer, which is why I didn’t press her when she wouldn’t explain why sex between her and I would be wrong. Still, I couldn’t help but steal a couple of sidelong glances at her, and feel the funny stirring in my loins. Not just my male parts, but my female parts as well. Maybe Aunt Lucilla was right; maybe the forbidden fruit was the most tempting.
“Holy shit!’ Aunt Lucilla squealed, pulling me out of my contemplation, “Is that a house? Oh, Sweet fucking Mother; civilization!”
As we crested the hilltop, I saw strange shapes form in a valley. Mother had called them ‘buildings’ when I was in her womb, and they stood in violent contrast to the rest of the world. They were made of sharp angles, crude lines, and hard edges, and they jutted from the landscape with an unnaturalness that both disturbed and thrilled me. From their bowels, came the first humans I’d ever seen. I felt a jolt of excitement, and made to sprint over to them and introduce myself, but Mom and Aunt Lucilla stopped me before I could.
“What?” I asked, “Why can’t I say ‘hi?’”
“Because they’re strangers, Diamond,” Mom said, “and strangers can be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” I asked, confused, “Why would someone who doesn’t know me be a danger to me?”
“Because you’re a stranger,” Mom said, “and some people fear strangers, and when people get scared, they become dangerous themselves.”
“But they wouldn’t be strangers if I introduced myself!” I insisted, frustrated that Mom couldn’t see the contradiction in her statement, “Then no one would have to be scared!”
“I don’t think these are the kind of people who want to meet new people.” Mom frowned, looking at the homogenous gentry, many of whom were staring at us. Flora suddenly turned from the path, and walked purposefully to the house Aunt Lucilla had spotted earlier. We stopped and watched her, and from the looks on Mom and Aunt Lucilla’s faces, it was apparent that they were as confused as I was. I didn’t know what houses were supposed to look like, but this one didn’t look like it worked. Half the roof was missing, all the windows were broken, the door hung on its hinges, and the walls were blackened, as though they’d been burnt. Flora examined the ruins for a moment, and then turned back, and walked toward us.
“Did you know the people who lived there?” Mom asked her. Flora didn’t say a word. Aunt Lucilla, Freydis and Mom exchanged glances as the nymph walked past them, and down to the valley.
“Towerhead,” Aunt Lucilla read the sign as we stepped onto the road, “what a wonderful shithole.”
There was no doubt about it, Towerhead was a shithole. There were three kinds of rural towns: quaint villages, pleasant hamlets, and destitute cow-towns. Towerhead was the latter. There was a time when I would’ve looked upon the derelict farm houses and broken fences with disdain, but I was too starved of civilization to be anything but delighted at the taste of it. It was obvious that the humans of Towerhead rarely saw people of other races by the looks they gave us, and I suspected they would’ve done more than gawk, were it not for the imposing figure of Freydis Skyborn. I was glad that the High Guard was drawing so much attention, because out of the five of us, she was the only one wearing proper clothes. Diamond, Julia and Flora wore the tatters of blankets and cloaks, and my garb barely concealed the glowing patterns that would’ve given me away. That was why our first stop on the road to Drastin, was an apparel shop.
“Lucilla,” Julia sighed as she tried on an oversized robe, “please don’t dress my daughter like a whore.”
“We’re just experimenting with self-expression,” I sniggered over to Julia from across the changing room, “don’t worry; I won’t let her walk outside in this.”
Diamond looked at herself in the mirror, testing the angles of her body. Her slender thighs were wrapped in fishnets, her supple glutes were crossed with garters, her thong did nothing to hide the coiled gift that bulged from the silk, and her brazier pushed everything high against her chest.
“So…?” I grinned, grateful for an excuse to let my eyes consume every inch of the antlered-hermaphrodite, “What do you think?”
“I don’t see the point,” Diamond frowned, “these clothes hold no practical purpose. I might as well be naked.”
“You inherited your mother’s fashion sense.” I sighed, rolling my eyes to Julia as she smirked in the mirror. I walked behind Diamond, and rested my chin on her shoulder, looking at our mutual reflection, “The purpose of women’s clothes isn’t to be practical, but to accentuate what we like about ourselves. The outfit a woman wears is how she wants the world to perceive her.”
“So, an outfit is like a message to people I don’t know?” Diamond asked.
“Exactly,” I smiled, “and what do you think this outfit says about you?”
“That I desire to be naked?” Diamond asked, cocking her head in her signature gesture of confusion.
“That’s certainly one interpretation,” I chuckled, “but these aren’t the kind of clothes you actually take off.”
“What do you mean?” Diamond asked.
“You remember what your mom told you about sex, right?” I grinned. Diamond smiled and nodded.
“Well,” I continued, “these are the kind of clothes you have sex in. So, what does this outfit say about you?”
“That I am ready for sex!” Diamond proclaimed loudly, overly-proud to have solved my riddle. I laughed into her shoulder, and even caught a glimpse of Julia trying to hide her smile. I didn’t doubt that the old Julia would’ve been mortified that her hypothetical daughter was wearing lingerie, but Julia post-Passion did little more than give the barest glance of disapproval. It was just another change Passion had made that I begrudgingly had to admit I liked.
“That’s right!” I giggled, “But your mother’s correct, Sparkles; you look like a whore right now. Only whores are always ready for sex, and you’re not a whore, are you?”
“I don’t know,” Diamond grinned mischievously, “do you think I would make a lot of money?”
“Oh my god, you’d make a fortune!” I chuckled as Julia scowled, “You’re the only kind of your species, you’re packing two sets of weapons, you’re drop-dead gorgeous, and you’re a virgin. You are the very definition of ‘exotic.’”
“Remember what I told you about sex, Sweetie.” Julia prompted her daughter as she stared pointedly at me.
“It should only be done with those you love and trust!” Diamond proclaimed, happy to have a reason to show what she had learned.
“And whores don’t love or trust the people they have sex with,” Julia said, “they trade their pleasure for money, and it is both unholy, and self-destructive.”
“I don’t actually want to be a whore,” Diamond confessed, a bashful grin on her face, “I just wanted to know how much money I was worth.”
“You’re priceless,” I grinned endearingly as I handed Diamond a dress, “now, try this on.”
The sundress fit Diamond beautifully, the yellow complimenting her olive complexion, the fabric loose, but well-fitting where it mattered. I tied her scarlet curls into a bow behind her pointed ears, tidying it about the base of her black antlers.
“What does this outfit say about me?” Diamond asked, twirling in the mirror and laughing as the dress’s skirt whipped past her thighs.
“The dress and the bow say that you’re a good girl and a delightful bundle of fun,” I smiled, “but the stockings say that you have a dirty secret, and some lucky man or woman might get to find out what it is.”
“Sparkles, keep your voice down!” I hissed through my laughter as Julia turned red beside us, “There are other people in the store, and you won’t get to keep your secret if you tell it to everyone!”
Diamond placed a conspiratorial finger on grinning her lips, and narrowed her eyes impishly as she tiptoed out of the changing room, where Freydis was waiting, pretending not to have heard everything she just did. I tossed the Valkyrie some money to pay for Diamond’s clothes, and then closed the door to see Julia looking pointedly at me on her stool.
“I don’t mind that you’re attracted to her,” Julia said softly, “but I wish you’d let her find herself in her own way. I know Diamond was born a grown woman, but she still has a lot of maturing to do.”
“I’m just guiding her along,” I replied carefully, “you know I won’t touch her without your blessing.”
“Blessing.” Julia snorted, slumping her shoulders as she looked in the mirror, “The woman who used to give blessings and wear robes is gone. I feel like an imposter with these on.”
“Do you want me to give you a little makeover?” I grinned as Julia pulled off her robes. Julia smiled ruefully and nodded, and I guiltily revealed the outfit I had already picked for her. I wasn’t the smartest woman, but I had a mind for fashion few others could match, and I knew exactly what Julia needed. The blouse exposed a modest amount of shoulder and midriff, but a vulgar amount of cleavage. Julia’s pale, sparkling complexion was bared where it would be the most effective, and her unnaturally-enlarged breasts were quite the asset. The pants hugged her glutes snugly, lifting and separating, while the inseam was generous enough to accommodate her manhood without drawing too much attention to it. Personally, I would’ve liked to let the thing bulge in all its glory, but I knew Julia was still very self-conscious about it.
“Well,” I said, beaming over her shoulder, “do you like it?”
“I really shouldn’t,” Julia smiled guiltily, “but it does look good on me, doesn’t it?”
“It’s almost perfect,” I whispered, pulling the item from my pocket, “it’s just missing one thing.”
I draped the golden chain about Julia’s neck, and smiled at her widening eyes. The crescent symbol of The Holy Mother dangled from its center, and I grinned as it disappeared into her cleavage. I clasped the chain about her nape, and planted a tender kiss where the metal met.
“You’ll always be Sister Julia to me.” I whispered, holding her tightly from behind. Julia smiled tearfully, and let her head fall on her shoulder, locking gazes with me. Our lips connected below our closing eyes, and I tasted the sweet honey of her kiss for the first time in weeks. It was different now; more passionate, more aggressive, more… everything. I begrudgingly thanked Passion once again, and dripped like butter into the hedonism of my lover. There was a promise behind that kiss, and I grinned internally as I felt it pass between our sucking mouths. It doesn’t really matter what kind of a woman you are, whether you’re pious or agnostic, uptight or free-willed; if your lover gives you jewelry, you must reciprocate. I just didn’t think she’d do it right there. Thank you, Passion; you dead, wonderful, old whore.
Lucilla’s soft lips stoked the flame that I’d let dwindle, her tongue supplied the fuel, and her body set it ablaze. I didn’t know how I’d gotten her pressed against the mirror, my trembling fingers tearing her white turtle neck from her body, her fumbling hands struggling with my belt as our lips smeared spit and lipstick across our devouring mouths. Our noses pressed beside each other and breathed with sharp, desperate intakes as the fervency of our kiss grew, only broken so that I could rip Lucilla’s shirt from her neck. Her fine, platinum hair tangled in disheveled strands with the forcefulness of the pull, and her breasts jiggled delightfully from their release. The glowing, fiery patterns that tattooed her were bright with my desire, illuminating from her and thrumming with the anticipation of her heart. Lucilla finally managed to rip my belt away, and I shoved my pants down as her fingers ripped my blouse along the seam, sending buttons clattering to the floor as my bust burst from the torn cloth.
“Oh, god I need it!” Lucilla breathed desperately, her eyes pleading as her hands wrapped around me, “I need it right now!”
I needed it even worse. I was shaking with the desire, my motions forceful and violent, my patience gone. I grabbed Lucilla by the succulent meat of her thighs, beneath her skirt and above her high stockings, pulled one leg up, and pushed between them. My raging, rigid heat found wet, soft warmth. Her moist petals gave way to my advance, her lewd-lips stretched inwardly as I penetrated, and her tight sheath welcomed me into her with slickening nectar and sucking muscles. Our pelvises met, our breasts flattened together, and our mouths moaned a mutual tone of satisfaction. I slowly sunk the last few inches I had through her tightness, and felt Lucilla’s thighs quiver around me as I touched her bottom.
“Holy shit!” Lucilla cried, eyes wide in wonderous pleasure, lips gaping in a pink oval, “Julia, you’re so fucking deep!”
“Shh!” I hissed, trying to contain my own exaltation, “There are people right outside!”
“I know,” Lucilla grinned an open-mouthed smile, “maybe they’ll complain to the manager.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I smiled.
“You’ll just have to think of a way to shut me up.” Lucilla smirked.
Lucilla’s stifled screams wetted against my palm as I rammed into her, unable to be gentle, possessed by an animalism that flowed through every vein. Lucilla welcomed my ferocity; locking her heels together behind my hips, sinking her fingers into my rippling glutes and giving me an encouraging squeeze. Her eyes were wide above my pressing hand, her breasts pillowed against mine and slickened with sweat, her ass deformed against the mirror behind her, creating flat circles of flesh that squeaked as they slid up and down, wet with the secretion that ran down her taint. Her body lurched upward with each thrust, accompanied by a suppressed squeal of delight and an internal spasm that seemed to suck me deeper into her. Her weak, feminine tones goaded my new masculinity, and I growled with avarice as I pressed and thrusted harder, compelled by some instinct to break this woman in two.
The violence of my motions increased, and Lucilla’s sapphire eyes began to lose focus, lolling in their sockets. The muffled tones that she exalted against my pressing hand weren’t squeals and cries, but guttural, gasping sounds. I couldn’t keep my own sounds from filtering through. Aggressive growls burned past my lips, tones seeped in masculine lust, but expelled with a female pitch. Lucilla released her grip on my driving ass and cupped my flattened breasts. She changed the tenor of my cries with a lecherous squeeze, and milk flowed from my nipples as weak femininity flowed from my red lips. I stumbled backward at the feeling, and barely caught myself on the stool before tumbling to the floor. Lucilla’s eyes regained their focus, and they grinned playfully at me. She squeezed harder, and I screamed in abject delight as spurts of white life shot from me and dribbled onto her naked breasts, wetting our bodies as they shifted together.
“Lucilla, stop!” I begged, not meaning the words I was saying. She knew it. She pulled my cupping hand from her mouth, and wrapped her lush, pink lips around a nipple, her eyes gleaming up at me as she drank. I moaned a sobbing, grateful tone and surrendered to her, letting her feed from my breast as I defiled her with my hips. Our lust became a sinuous dance upon the stool; Lucilla straddled atop me, her hips grinding behind her, one cheek raising while the other fell, her slit stirring around my driving cock. I shifted with her; driving between her legs in contest with her deep grinds, hooking my hands onto the crossbars of the stool and leaning back, letting my head fall behind my shoulders as I balanced us. I struggled to keep my weight centered as Lucilla did everything she could to sabotage our position. She sucked harder from my breasts, swallowing my nectar as her hands moved down, caressing fingertips along the clenched rises of my abdomen, before trailing across my thrusting hips, and beneath the site of our depravity. I gasped as I felt a finger pushed through the dripping folds of my femaleness, and growled as I felt another enter my ass. Lucilla gave me a playful wink as she toyed with me from the inside, controlling me like a puppeteer, making my body do as she pleased while she straddled me. I thrusted as her fingers beckoned, moaned as her consuming slit commanded, arched my back as her sucking mouth compelled. I indulged in her lustful slavery until I couldn’t control the reactions of my body, and the balancing act became a spectacle of controlled falling.
Lucilla’s fingers tore from my holes as we rolled onto the floor, tumbling in a blur of platinum and crimson hair. I ended up on top, and I grinned into Lucilla’s eyes as my body weight suppressed her. She grinned back; ‘do your worst,’ the look seemed to say. I did. Each violent thrust sent a spasm through Lucilla, compelling her posture to stiffen beneath me, and her grip on my ass to tighten. I felt her depths churning with the precursor of her ascension, spasming sporadically, each convulsion more violent than the last, each internal expulsion translated through her external reactions. She writhed uncontrollably; her hips gyrating in congruence with my drives, her breasts squishing and smearing sweat and milk across our busts, her belly clenching and spasming against mine. Pleading, desperate sounds rose with each of her gasping breaths, her face flushing with her effort and ascension, her complexion glistening and mingling with the sweat of my own. Our bodies slickened against one another, moving with greater fervency, shifting up and down as we exalted through gritted teeth. Her eyes bulged in their sockets, her sapphire irises rolled into her head, and she panted her exhilarating climax against me, her heart thundering and her diaphragm heaving. She bucked and twisted as though trying to escape the euphoria that was taking her, and then she tensed in a toe-curling, leg-trembling release, her song ringing clear and true, echoing throughout the shop.
Everyone in the store was staring with slackened jaws at the door Freydis, Flora and I loitered next to. Aunt Lucilla’s delighted shrieks accompanied Mom’s exerted tones, punctuated by the sounds of flesh smacking on flesh. I grinned up at Freydis.
“Hey, Freydis,” I smiled, biting my lip, struggling to keep my laughter to myself, “guess what they’re doing in there?”
“I can’t imagine.” Freydis said dryly, her jaw working in the tell-tale sign that she was uncomfortable. I leaned toward her, and cupped my hand over my lips.
“They’re having sex!” I giggled through my whisper. Freydis rolled her eyes, and then narrowed them as a man approached. He looked angry, his bald head as red as his face, his fists clenched.
“What is the meaning of this?” the man demanded, “This is a godly town, and you heathens can’t just come in here and sully-”
The changing room door opened a crack, and four gold pieces flew from its threshold before it slammed shut, silencing the man. The man picked the coins up, tested one with his teeth, then smiled companionably to Freydis, and walked away.
“Is that man a whore?” I asked Freydis. She raised an eyebrow at me.
“No, he’s the shopkeeper.” Freydis said as the man assumed an apologetic posture to his mortified customers.
“But Aunt Lucilla just gave him money so that she could have sex,” I said, cocking my head, “so doesn’t that make him a whore?”
“That’s an interesting question,” Freydis said, crossing her arms and frowning in contemplation, “in my land, money holds no value; it is honor that binds our people. In this land, the gentry claim godliness to be their priority, but it is jettisoned for a pittance of wealth. This man sold his values for coin, and that either means his values weren’t dearly held, or that he is a whore, as you say. It’s a question for the philosophers, I suppose.”
“Oh, you didn’t come?” Aunt Lucilla’s voice filtered through the door, its tenor dripping with grateful satisfaction, “You’re still so fucking hard for me, Babe; do you want to put it in my ass?”
Freydis stiffened next to me, and the jaws of the customers dropped even lower, their eyes bulging, none of them even attempting the pretense of shopping. I frowned.
“Hey, that’s not how you do it!” I exclaimed to Freydis, “Mom told me the penis goes into the vagina. Someone needs to tell Aunt Lucilla that she’s doing it wrong. Aunt Lucilla! Aunt Lucilla!” I knocked on the door, “That’s not where you’re supposed to put the penis!”
“Oh, Good Mother!” Julia hissed, her swollen cock bulging in my neck, “Diamond has been listening to us the whole time!”
I honestly couldn’t’ve given a smaller shit who was listening. I was in a fugue state of post-orgasmic bliss, kneeling at the altar of my lover, worshipping her cock like it deserved to be worshipped. I tasted my pussy on her shaft as my lips sucked with sensual avarice, my eyes staring half-lucidly up at Julia, full of unconditional adoration.
“Lucilla?” Julia asked, pulling her shaft from my mouth. I instinctively followed it as it receded, and Julia had to put her hand on my forehead to keep from crawling after it.
“Freydis,” I called to the door, more than a little annoyed that a penis wasn’t currently inside me, “please escort Diamond from the premises.”
There was the sound of someone being picked up against their will, and Diamond’s voice fading with Freydis’s footsteps. “But Aunt Lucilla, you can’t have sex with your butt! It’s against the rules!”
“She still has so much to learn,” I sighed as I grasped for Julia’s throbbing member, “I can’t wait to teach her everything.”
“We just had this talk,” Julia frowned, keeping her hand pressed to my forehead, “let her figure things out for herself.”
“One of these days, Diamond is going to ask me for it,” I said, stubbornly reaching for Julia’s member, “and I won’t be able to deny her.”
“You will,” Julia said, grabbing my hand before it could find its target, “because you’re her adoptive mother, and children don’t have sex with their mothers.”
“I don’t think Diamond got the memo,” I smirked, “I’m not the only one she’s been looking at.”
“What are you talking about?” Julia hissed, a touch of anger in her voice. The anger excited me.
“Oh, she’s subtle when it comes to you,” I smiled slyly, scooching forward on my knees, anticipating the punishment, “she knows you think it’s wrong, but she can’t help herself. An errant glance here, a sneaky peak there, a little snake-eyes look. Diamond’s not exactly the most patient girl; I wonder how long it will take before she asks you for it. I wonder if you’ll be able to deny her?”
I was just teasing, trying to get a rise out of Julia, but by the aghast look that paled her apple cheeks, I realized I’d accidentally struck gold.
“Oh, no,” I whispered, an astonished grin broadening across my face, “oh, Julia…”
“It’s not… I’m not… you don’t…” Julia’s emerald eyes bulged, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her lips trembled.
“Oh, sweet Mother,” I chuckled, scooching through Julia’s felled defenses, and wrapping a cool hand around her stiff cock, “the pious, holy, Sister Julia wants to fuck her own daughter.”
“No, I don’t!” Julia yelled.
“Nuns make terrible liars, Julia,” I whispered through my smile as I stroked her, savoring the combination of shame, horror and arousal that etched her face, “you don’t have the practice. I always knew you were secretly depraved, but I never thought you would stoop this low.”
“I’m just confused!” Julia insisted desperately, a slight moan mingling with her denial, “It’s Passion; she did this to me! I don’t want this!”
“I don’t think that’s true,” I chuckled, relishing every bump and vein my palm caressed, “I think you know exactly what you want.”
“Shut up!” Julia snapped, “You… you just… you just…”
“…I just what?” I smiled, teasing her tip with my tongue, tasting the froth that bubbled from her.
“You just keep your whore-mouth shut!” Julia snarled, and forced herself all the way down my neck. Perfect.
I gagged and sputtered, gurgled and wretched as Julia’s bejeweled shaft burrowed into my throat. Saliva and cum oozed from my lips, dripped down my chin and onto my breasts, still wet with Julia’s milk. My eyes filmed with tears as I swallowed desperately around my lover, my vision blurring her portrait of anger and desire. She drove my face into her pelvis, spit smearing against her base, nose pressing into her loins, making me smell the sweet stink of her. I sunk my fingers into her succulent ass and tried to pull her deeper, staring up at her from my tear-filled eyes as I hummed my tone of masochistic approval. Julia sneered down at me, and ripped my head back, her hand tangled in my platinum strands. She was so aggressive now, so virile and dominant. Not at all like the demure lover I had known before. Thank you, Passion; you dead cunt.
“Is this what you want to do to Diamond?” I laughed as Julia pressed me against the mirror; bent-over with my legs splayed, my back arched, my skirt hiked past my hips and my stockings clinging to my bulging thighs.
“Shut the fuck up, Lucilla!” Julia snarled, slapping me hard across the ass. I yelped my delight, my face pressing to the glass, my hands reaching back to spread myself, my teeth biting my excited smile. I loved it when Julia swore; it meant she lost control.
“I’m not Lucilla,” I grinned, “my name’s Diamond, and I want Mommy to fuck my little asshole.”
Julia pressed her tip to my winking aperture and then drove all the way to her pelvis, giving me no chance to prepare. I screamed in pain and pleasure as her shaft separated my anal walls, viciously uncoiling my channel and stretching my rim wide. She grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled my head back, forcing my spine into a painful arch of concavity, my breasts flattening against the glass, my pussy dripping its gratefulness between my legs.
“Oh, god!” I cried, “Diamond absolutely loves it when you do this to her!”
Julia drove my head against the mirror, squishing my face to my own reflection as she jackhammered her way into my rectum, my tight rim clinging to her as she exited, stretching my pelvic floor and sending searing pleasure down my ruined taint. She touched the deepest reaches of me, pushing against my pussy from the other side, electrifying every sensitive nerve within. I stared at my marred reflection; wide, bulging eyes glistening with tears, smeared mascara and lipstick, pale lips gaping to an oval as they cried with every thrust. My breath fogged my reflection from view as my expirations became desperate pants, my lungs burning as my heart thundered.
“You’re baby girl’s a little anal whore, Julia!” I screamed, goading her into more, “Look how she bends for you!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Julia growled, ripping me from the mirror with surprising strength. Before I knew it, Julia’s foot was pressing my face into the floor, my breasts were flattening against the planks, and my ass was high in the air, spread and vulnerable, taking every inch of Julia’s driving length without obstruction. I squealed my delight, clawing at the wood, simultaneously struggling to escape the pain as I arched my back to take the pleasure. Julia had successfully stripped my ability to speak, but I didn’t need to say anymore; I’d gotten exactly what I wanted.
Julia bent me backwards as she impaled me, my thighs perpendicular to the floor, my abused ass almost in line with the back of my head. Her palm slapped viciously across my glutes, reddening the jiggling flesh and mixing the stings of her impact with the ruinous pleasure of her penetration. My ass gripped her as she pulled, the skin around my anus stretching with searing pleasure, and then indenting vulgarly as she pushed all the way, my pelvic floor deepening my crack, her cock bursting through my resistances and forcing me to envelope her. I sobbed onto the floor as my body shifted violently, helpless to the woman’s brutality, a slave to every motion she made. My second orgasm came, greater than the one before, spurred by violence and malice, unyielding in its intensity. I sputtered and screamed into the planks, thrashing uselessly beneath her, my mind melting in the heat of it, going insane with the euphoria. I twisted in reaction, compelled by sensations I couldn’t control, my spine wrenching and arching as Julia’s voice carried behind me, growing louder with each violent slap of crotch on glute. The feeling roiled in my defiled rectum, burned into my vacant womanhood, expanded into my belly and ballooned to my extremities. Julia gasped and cried, taken by the tightness that sucked her into me, gritting her teeth as I clenched my anus around her. She screamed with me as she erupted into my depths, our bodies tensing in an ecstatic paralysis, my legs quivering uncontrollably, my spine wracked with shivers. Our static intensity lasted for a wonderful, tortuous moment, and then receded as the release washed over us. Julia collapsed atop me as she poured the last of herself into my ass, and I collapsed like a folding chair beneath her weight, all the strength sapped of me.
“Oh shit,” I panted when words came back to me, “Passion really taught you how to use that thing.”
“Passion also laid with her sons and daughters,” Julia breathed on top of me, her body seeping its warmth into my back, “and I don’t wish to emulate her.”
“I won’t tell Diamond,” I promised, turning my head to face Julia, “but I don’t think you should deny her, or yourself.”
“Are you actually encouraging me to have sex with my daughter?” Julia exclaimed incredulously, her words punctuated by her recovering breaths.
“Yes,” I grinned back, “I really want to watch a pair of hermaphrodites shamefully indulge in incest.”
“You’re a twisted person, Lucilla.” Julia smirked.
“You already knew that,” I smirked back, clenching my glutes around her still-hard cock, “that’s why you love me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t fulfill your fantasy,” Julia sighed as she got off me, her cock sliding slickly from my ruined gape, “I still have some pride. These feelings I have will fade the further I get from Passion’s influence, and Diamond’s curiosity will be sated by others besides you or I.”
“Seems a shame,” I said sadly as I turned around, and rested my head in Julia’s lap, “it would have made us all so much closer.”
“I want Diamond to go off on her own someday,” Julia sighed, leaning back as I nuzzled my face between her legs, “she doesn’t need to be shackled to a perverse relationship with her mother.”
“You make it sound like we’re old women,” I laughed, then licked Julia from base to tip, tasting the delicious tang of my ass on her shaft, “Diamond was born our age, Julia; she looks more like your sister than your daughter.”
“And that makes it better?” Julia laughed, moaning slightly, “You know it’s horribly wrong.”
“I won’t push it,” I said, “but I think you should consider what Diamond might actually want, and not what you think she should.”
I let Julia stew on that thought as my lips wrapped around her, and I cleaned her like a dutiful wife; gently sucking her dirty shaft until it pulsed to eruption. She came a second time, pouring her seed into my mouth to a chorus of gentle gasps, her pale abdomen clenching in contrast with her languid posture. I smiled at her as she leaked from my lips, and she smiled back, bringing our mouths together, and passing her cum between our tongues. God, she was so different now. So different in some ways, but still the same in others. Her face was the color of her hair as we shamefully walked from the changing room to the gawking eyes of the shop’s customers. They didn’t know they were in the presence of divinity, and by the blush of Julia’s cheeks, she didn’t seem to think they were. I paid for the items with all the royal dignity I could muster, and then we sprinted out of the shop like little girls, giggling uncontrollably.
“But that’s where your poop comes out!” Diamond laughed as Lucilla tried to explain anal sex to her. I stubbornly kept my eyes fixed on the road, knowing without a doubt that Lucilla was trying to catch my embarrassed gaze with her mocking glance.
“Sex is dirty,” Lucilla chuckled, holding hands with my daughter, their fingers interlaced, “and the dirtier it is, the better. If god didn’t want us to play with our buttholes, she wouldn’t have made it feel so good.”
“But… poop!” Diamond yelled, unable to wrap her head around it, “How do you… why would you…? Mom, did you get Aunt Lucilla’s poop on your penis?”
“I’m not an animal, Sparkles; I practice proper hygiene!” Lucilla exclaimed loudly as my face stung with mortification. I pointedly avoided the gazes of the Towerhead’s pedestrians as they turned their attention toward my boisterous daughter and my shameless lover.
“There is no amount of proper hygiene that makes your butthole clean!” Diamond insisted, “It’s like trying to scrub mud.”
“Au contraire, my dearest adoptive daughter,” Lucilla chuckled, “I’ll have you know that my butthole is so clean, that after your mother was done with it, I sucked her-”
“Beautiful sunset tonight, huh Freydis?” I yelled to the Valkyrie, who was standing right next to me.
“Absolutely gorgeous!” Freydis yelled back, clearly as uncomfortable with the conversation I was.
“Excuse me?” a small voice asked from behind us. We all turned around to see a boy of about seven, his hands held shyly behind his back. He looked up at Freydis, his expression almost worshipful.
“Are you Angel?” he asked, and then held out a scrap of paper and a quill, “Can I get your autograph?”
“No.” Freydis replied, frowning at the boy. He cowered before her, mumbled something, and then scampered down the road, where a group of other boys were watching Freydis with awe-struck eyes.
“What was that about?” Lucilla asked Freydis.
“I don’t know,” Freydis shrugged, “but it’s not the first time someone in Towerhead has asked me if I’m an angel. The tailor offered me a discount because he thought I was an angel, a man propositioned me because he thought I was an angel, and a caravanner told me he made a hundred bucks off me.”
“What?” I asked, more confused than before.
“That’s what I said,” Freydis nodded, “though I didn’t know mythical creatures of the maternal afterlife produced deer by the hundreds; you’ll have to read me that tale from your bible.”
“Hold on.” Lucilla frowned, seeming to form a hypothesis. She walked over to a nearby vendor, bought a tabloid, and walked back to us as she flipped through it. She stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the road, and gaped as she slowly turned to the pages.
“What is it?” I called after her, feeling a sickening pit growing in my belly. Lucilla’s eyes darted to me, and then to Freydis. She promptly dropped the newspaper in the street, stomped it into a pile of horse manure, and walked to us.
“Just tabloid trash,” Lucilla said, taking my arm, “gossip, rumors and the like; the same kind of shit that used to follow me around back home.”
“If I remember correctly, most of those rumors about you were spot-on,” I smirked at Lucilla, “and you used to relish reading them. What changed?”
“I lost the taste for them.” Lucilla grimaced, realizing I’d caught her lie. She put her hand on my shoulder and guided me to stop, letting Freydis walk out of earshot.
“What is it?” I whispered, “Why does everyone seem to recognize Freydis?”
“It looks like Flora was right about Freydis’s daughter,” Lucilla whispered back, “she didn’t find The Earth Former.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. Lucilla looked over her shoulder, seeing that Freydis had stopped, and was waiting for us with her hands resting impatiently on her hips.
“The reason everyone thinks Freydis is this ‘Angel’ person,” Lucilla whispered, “is because there’s a Valkyrie in Drastin who goes by the name of ‘Angel.’ Do you know about The Pit?”
“Yes.” I replied, shuddering silently at the thought of that sinful place. I would be giving the infamous arena a wide berth once we got to Drastin.
“Well, this Angel is supposed to be the next big thing,” Lucilla said, “I mean, she was on every page of that tabloid. What she’s wearing, what she’s eating, who she’s fucking…”
“Who she’s fu… having sex with?” I hissed, “Valkyries don’t sleep around!”
“Well, this one does,” Lucilla grinned, “not only does this ‘Angel’ fight in The Pit, but she performs daily sex acts in a brothel, and not the vanilla kind. Oh, goddamn it; you just have to see.” Lucilla looked over her shoulder and called to the frustrated Valkyrie, “Freydis, hold up a second, Ok?”
Lucilla rushed over to the newspaper booth and procured another copy, before excitedly running back over to me. The audacity Lucilla had to pretend she didn’t care about celebrity gossip was laughable; she lived for it.
“Ok, full disclosure, I didn’t want you to see this before because you’re on the cover.” Lucilla whispered excitedly. She showed me the illustration, and it was blessedly erroneous. I took the leaflet from her and paged through the articles about me, frowning at the inaccuracies and gasping at some of the claims. Apparently, I was an assassin sent from an underworld cult of religious fanatics. I duel-wielded a set of holy staffs, performed exorcisms before I murdered my victims, and was on a mission to purge the elven aristocracy for killing my parents. There wasn’t anything about my exploits in Arbortus, though I doubted many people in the world knew about Passion, or her womb.
“Yeah, I like their story better,” Lucilla sniggered at me, “though the drawing’s a little off. I think it’s missing something…”
I glowered at Lucilla, and she hurriedly turned the pages to the sections about Angel. There was no doubt about it; that was Freydis’s daughter. Clearly, someone had a lot of time to draw Astrid, and not in flattering positions. I didn’t know tabloids doubled as hardcore-porno mags in Drastin, but apparently, they did. I instinctively covered Diamond’s eyes as she peered over my shoulder, and I flipped to the next page.
“That’s her manager, ‘Night Eyes,’” Lucilla said, pointing to the portrait of the white-haired nymph, her eyes black like Passion’s, “and they call that woman, ‘Death Kiss,’” she said, pointing to the succubus.
“What?!” a voice hissed from behind us. We turned around to see Flora’s face twisted in alarm, “Did you say, ‘Death Kiss?’”
“Yeah,” Lucilla said, raising an eyebrow as she handed Flora the tabloid, “you know her?”
Flora didn’t answer, because Flora almost fainted. Her green complexion grew ashen, her lips quivered, and her hands trembled as though stricken with Parkinson’s. Her bulging eyes filled with tears, and leaked saline droplets onto the paper as her lenses scanned the words.
“Flora?” I asked, bending down to peer at her horrified face, “Are you alright?”
Her head snapped up, her face changing violently to an expression of manic joy.
“Tera has her!” she screamed, “By the Giver, Tera has her!”
In a blur of speed that shocked me, Flora turned heel and sprinted right for Freydis. Lucilla groaned and darted after the nymph, but bless her soul, Lucilla was no athlete. Flora outpaced the elf, ran into Freydis, and opened the tabloid. I didn’t have to be a fortune teller to know what was going to happen next. Freydis snatched the magazine, brought it to within an inch of her face, widened her eyes, grabbed Flora, and then launched into the air with a mighty flap of her wings. They shrank to a dot against the blue sky, Freydis’s white span catching the sun and glinting onto the eyes of the gawking spectators.
“Did I miss something?” Diamond asked.
“I guess we both did,” I said, gaping at the empty sky where they just were, and then to my flustered lover, “what was that about?”
“The fuck if I know,” Lucilla grumbled, “something about ‘Tera,’ whoever that is; crazy old bitch. You should’ve swallowed your pride and let Freydis swear her vows to you.”
“Freydis owes me nothing,” I said, “if she wants to leave, she can. Her daughter’s wellbeing is much more important than acting as a chaperone for us.”
“She was deterrent for harassment.” Lucilla frowned, eyes darting to the sides, “In case you hadn’t noticed, the wonderful people of Towerhead don’t exactly like us.”
I looked around, and saw that the gawking stares the citizenry had reserved for Freydis, were now hostile glares directed at the three of us. They came from windows and thresholds, booths and foyers. The came from the dirty faces of the men who worked, the plump face of the women who washed, and the shiny faces of the boys who had asked for Freydis’s signature. The wind could be heard clearly through the town now, playing across creaking doors and rusty hinges, whistling a tense warning. I felt my hair stand on the back of my neck, and my blood began to heat, readying me for what might come.
“Mom?” Diamond asked, “Why is everyone staring at us?”
“I don’t know, Diamond,” I said, pulling her to my waist, “but we’re not staying around to find out.”
“There’s an inn a mile outside town,” Lucilla said, nervously glancing around, “I think we’ll go there.”
The innkeeper was a dwarf, and I instantly liked him. Bald, green-eyed and grey-bearded, he smiled with a face full of kindly wrinkles, and spoke with a thickly-accented voice that sounded like it belonged to a giant, though he barely stood above the counter, even on his stool.
“Well aren’t you three the prettiest things east of Drastin!” he laughed when we entered, “Come in, come in!’
The three of us were the only ones in the inn, save for the dwarf and a wash boy. Aunt Lucilla plopped onto a stool, sighing exhaustedly as Mom sat beside her, and I took my place on her other side.
“You Miss, look like the type who knows her wine!” the old dwarf chuckled to Aunt Lucilla, “Try this vintage on the house, and tell me it ain’t the best thing you’ve had west of Terondia!”
“Why, thank you,” Aunt Lucilla grinned at the dwarf, taking the glass, “it’s nice to see someone in Drastinar knows how to treat guests.”
“Oh, don’t think me too charitable,” the dwarf winked, “women who know their wine have the coin to gain that knowledge, and the best vintage west of Terondia is whatever the hell I’ve got behind the counter!”
Aunt Lucilla and Mom laughed at that, but I didn’t get the joke. Still, their laughter made me laugh.
“You sir, stick out like a sore thumb in this town,” Aunt Lucilla smiled, “what’s a man like you doing in a drab place like this?”
“Now don’t go bad-mouthing the honest folk of Towerhead,” the innkeeper scolded, though he was still smiling, “they’re good folk, and they’ve tolerated me well enough.”
“They didn’t seem like very good folk,” I said, happy to have an excuse to use the word ‘folk,’ “they seemed mean.”
“Nah, they’re just wary of outsiders, especially those of different stock.” the dwarf said, “They had something of a tragedy involving a succubus and a young boy recently, and now they’re even more protective of their way of life.”
“That succubus wouldn’t happened to be named ‘Tera,’ would it?” Aunt Lucilla asked.
“The very same,” the dwarf said, “of course, now she goes by the name of ‘Death Kiss,’ and fights in The Pit. Rubs folk the wrong way, seeing her in the papers. The Sorenson’s got a letter from their boy saying he was in debt to slavers, and he disappeared around the same time Tera did. Didn’t take much conjecture to put two-and-two together to figure Tera got him roped into some kind of scheme. She’s involved with Night Eyes, and no good’s ever come from dealings with that killer.”
“That explains why everyone gave us a death-stare when Flora mentioned Tera,” Mom said to Aunt Lucilla, “how she knows a succubus ring-fighter is beyond me.”
“If your smart, you’ll keep that woman’s name in the back of your mouth,” the dwarf said quietly, “the folk here are good folk, but Good Mother knows Tera might as well be the devil to ‘em.”
“A dwarf following the maternal path?” Mom asked incredulously, smiling at the old man, “Did I just hear that right?”
“It’s not too uncommon,” the dwarf said, “judging by the hue of your hair, Miss, I’d say someone in your lineage was a bit short of stature, and judging by the necklace you’re wearing, I’d say he may have followed the path himself.” He looked at Mom with a twinkle in his eye, “But judging by the amount of chest you’re showing, I’m betting that necklace is mostly just for show, ain’t it?”
“Now, Mister!” Mom said, gaping with smiling indignation, “I’ll have you know that I was once a sister of The Holy Mother, and on my path to matronage!”
“And somewhere along the path, a tight-fitting turtleneck got in your way,” the old man said slyly, winking at Aunt Lucilla, “and suddenly chastity didn’t seem like such a great destination.”
“It’s like you’ve known us for years,” Aunt Lucilla laughed, and then extended her hand, “I’m Lucy, this is Jules, and this Diamond.” Lucilla said, altering their names, but keeping mine the same. I was about to ask why she did that, but Mom’s squeeze on my knee told me to keep quiet.
“Jules and Diamond, eh?” the dwarf chuckled, extending his hand to Mom, and then myself, “Aptly-named women! I’ve got to ask, before my curiosity kills me; what exactly are you, Diamond?”
“I’m half-nymph, half-elf!” I proclaimed proudly.
“Now, I’m no biologist,” the old man smiled, “but from my understanding, a mixture of nymph and elf yields a dawn-elf, not an antlered, young beauty such as yourself.”
“My sister is a bit of an anomaly,” Mom grinned back, squeezing my knee again, “but that’s what happens when your father is an incubus.”
“Ah, say no more, say no more!” the old man laughed, “I’ve traveled the world and seen many-a-wonder, and none so unique as the mishap offspring of shape-shifters. Why, I once met a lad without a finger on his hand, but he was still the most popular woman’s masseuse in Glendinar, if you catch my drift?”
“I think we follow.” Mom chuckled as I looked inquisitively to Aunt Lucilla. She explained the joke with a rude gesture, and I giggled delightedly once I made the connection.
“So, what’s a fine trio of ladies such as yourselves doing in Towerhead?” Arby asked.
“We’re on our way to Drastin, of course,” Aunt Lucilla laughed, “you don’t think Towerhead is our destination?”
“I don’t know, there’s a fine lot of things to do in Towerhead,” the dwarf smiled slyly, “why, it’s the number-one suicide destination in all of Drastinar!”
“They certainly take great pains to cultivate the proper atmosphere,” Mom laughed, “what’s your name, inn keeper?”
“Most people just call me ‘Arby,’” Arby said, “so, Arby will do fine for ya, as far as names go.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arby,” Aunt Lucilla smiled, “and if your beds are as wonderful as your company, I’m sure our money will be well spent.”
“The beds are hard as rocks and the draft will turn your nipples to spearpoints!” Arby laughed, slamming a bottle of whisky onto the counter, “But the liquor’s cheap as sand and the beds are even cheaper!”
“Your advertising is superb!” Mom laughed, “How are you still in business?”
“I have a great slogan,” Arby chuckled, pouring the whisky into four small glasses, “it goes: ‘The Towerhead Inn; this is the only inn in Towerhead.’”
“How can anyone refuse such hospitality?” Aunt Lucilla giggled as she took a shot in her hand,
“You’d be surprised,” Arby chuckled as he slid a glass to Mom, “I’ve had many customers choose the stables after five minutes with me.”
“But you’re such a charmer!” Aunt Lucilla exclaimed, drinking all the liquor in one gulp and then wiping her lips.
“You’ve only been here three minutes,” the wash boy chuckled as he mopped the floor, “Arby’s still got two more to drive you away.”
“Oh, blow it out your ass, Nate!” Arby yelled with a smile.
“You better not let Arby serve you his soup,” Nate grinned at us, “or that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.”
“Gross!” I giggled, and somehow found myself sharing a smile with Nate. Something about him made me feel funny, like Mom made me feel. He was tan, dark-haired, and slender, and my eyes seemed to wander on their own to his hands as they gripped the mop, his forearms with veins standing proudly, his dark eyes that seemed to tease. I grew suddenly hot in the face, and experienced the conflicting desires to both turn away and keep smiling. Nate must have been feeling the same, because his eyes darted downward, and his cheeks grew rosy as his adam’s apple rose in a swallow.
“Yes, Nate has a fine way of talking to the ladies,” Arby chuckled, sliding me a glass of whisky, “it’s amazing he hasn’t found a girlfriend yet.”
“No, Diamond.” Mom said, laying a hand on mine before I drank.
“Why not?” I asked, frowning.
“Yeah,” Aunt Lucilla said as she downed another shot, “what are you Jules, her mom?”
“The booze is cheap because the lodgings are bad, Miss,” Arby smiled, “I’m not one to pry into yer business, but ‘tis why we offer such accommodations; you’d best be warm in the belly before fighting the daft.”
“Mr. Arby,” Mom gasped with a smile, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get us drunk!”
“Oh damn!” Arby laughed, “You caught me! I’m a desperate old man still raging with the fire of youth, and aged whisky ages me backwards in the eyes of the drinkers!”
“You’re looking younger by the glass!” Aunt Lucilla belched vulgarly, and then giggled girlishly.
“A few more and you might see me with a full head of hair!” Arby laughed.
“Oh, I don’t mind the follicle-challenged,” Aunt Lucilla smiled warmly, rubbing a gloved hand atop Arby’s pate, “I’m a vain woman, and sometimes it’s nice to have a mirror between my legs.”
“Lucy!” Mom gasped, her eyes wide as Arby turned beet-red from neck to crown.
I took the opportunity to quickly drink the whisky while Mom was distracted, and instantly regretted it. It scorched my throat, burned acidic down my esophagus, and started a torrent in belly. I barely held the liquor inside me as I coughed and sputtered to the soundtrack of laughter.
“Was that yer first drink, Miss Diamond?” Arby laughed, “If I’d known, I would’ve gotten you some wine!”
“I tried to warn her.” Mom chuckled as she patted my back. Once the heat had left my chest, and the spit had dried in my mouth, I was left with a pleasant, tingling warmth. The feeling seemed to play lightly on my head, and tug gently on my lips, until I was grinning a little wider than normal. I looked bashfully at Nate, and saw him grinning back over Aunt Lucilla’s shoulder.
“Oh no,” Aunt Lucilla cackled, “Sparkles is a light-weight!”
“Well it’s her first drink, Miss Lucy!” Arby exclaimed, “I’m sure you remember your first drink.”
“Not really,” Aunt Lucilla smirked, “that night has been exorcised from my memory. One moment I was at the bar, the next, I was in bed with the wash boy.”
“Ya hear that, Nate?” Arby laughed, “The wash boy! You’ve still got a chance!”
“Two years ago, definitely,” Aunt Lucilla grinned wickedly at Nate, and then ran her hand through Mom’s red hair, “but alas for poor Nate, I’ve been shackled.”
“Is that what she does to ya?” Arby said, pouring another glass for Mom as she finished hers, “Well I’m sorry Miss, but our accommodations don’t cover those kinds of amenities. Perhaps the jailhouse does?”
“If we’d spent another minute in Towerhead, I suspect that’s where we would’ve been staying tonight,” Mom sighed as she took two large swigs of whisky, “those people looked like they’d had it with us.”
“That what happens when you mistake a changing room for a hotel room.” Nate grinned, causing Mom to turn bright red and Aunt Lucilla to cackle.
“Oh, damnit Nate!” Arby yelled, “You weren’t supposed to tell them we knew! Now they’ll be running out the door in embarrassment!”
“Word gets around fast in small towns.” Nate shrugged, his dark hair falling over his tan face.
“You were in that shop!” I exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Nate with a funny smile on my face, “I remember you now!”
“And I remember you,” Nate smiled, and his smile causing my stomach to grow light, “next to the Valkyrie and the nymph. What happened to those two?”
“Freydis took our mother on ahead,” Mom said, squeezing my knee again, “she may not look it, but my mother is very old, and the journey was getting taxing.”
“Well, since all the cards are on the table now,” Arby smiled apologetically, “I’m deathly curious why a Valkyrie is traveling on foot with a high-blooded elf, two half-blooded elves, and their nymph mother?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” Aunt Lucilla said, a little testily.
“I don’t mean nothing by it, Miss Lucy,” Arby said, putting up his hands defensively, “I hope you’ll forgive an old man’s curiosity. It used to be that the winged-warriors only descended their cliffs to serve the heathen gods, but now they’re fighting in The Pit and transporting the elderly. We’re living in strange times, I tell ya.”
“Well, The Creators have returned, Arby,” Aunt Lucilla smiled, “didn’t you hear? The infamous Julia Glendian is on the prowl, killing the elven aristocracy one at a time.”
“Bah!” Arby laughed, “Superstition and rumor! That nut, Emperor Flitaris, blew up his own daughter for propaganda. He’s been so crazy about finding The Heat Bringer, that he had to fabricate her return to justify his tyranny.”
“That’s what I said!” Mom exclaimed, squeezing my knee again, “But Lucy insists in believing the rhetoric the government feeds us.”
“Always keep yer ear to the ground, Miss Lucy,” Arby said, touching his ear, “those in power keep their power through lies and deception, and you’ve got to listen carefully to hear through the bullshit.”
“You’re obviously a perceptive man, Arby,” Aunt Lucilla smirked at Mom, “nothing gets past you.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Arby chuckled, pouring another glass of whiskey, “I’m keener than a fox, I tell ya.”
Nate snorted a laugh, and I laughed because he did. We connected eyes again, and shared a little secret in our smile.
The evening turned to night, and the glasses began littering the counter. Aunt Lucilla became louder and rowdier, Mom became bubbly and easily embarrassed, and I became liquid. It seemed that no matter what position I assumed, I would slide precariously from it. Luckily, Nate was next to me, and always caught me before I tumbled. Sometimes I slipped on purpose, just so that he’d hold me.
“Show him!” Aunt Lucilla cackled to Mom, “C’mon, show him!”
“No!” Mom giggled, covering her face in her hands, her cheeks as red as her hair.
“Do it!” Aunt Lucilla goaded, “Do it, and I’ll eat your ass tonight!”
“She drives a hard bargain!” Arby cackled, his head resting on the counter, seeming unable to lift it.
Mom raised an eyebrow at Aunt Lucilla, who grinned and licked her lips. Mom took Arby’s half-filled glass, reached for her neckline, then tore her breast from her blouse in a jiggling exposure, squeezed it, and squirted milk into the old man’s glass. Arby hacked in laughter, pounding his fist next to his static head as Mom downed the contents of her glass, wiping milk from her lips and smirking at Aunt Lucilla.
“You whore.” Mom sneered.
“You cow.” Aunt Lucilla smirked back. Their gazes locked half-lidded above their crooked smiles, and Aunt Lucilla’s pale lips pressed to Mom’s red. Their mouths opened as their eyes closed, and their tongues invaded as their noses pressed beside each other. Soon, they were all over each other, groping jiggling curves with sinking fingers as they stumbled their way to the bedroom.
“Just hang out with Arby and Nate for a little bit, Diamond.” Mom called over her shoulder between smacking sounds, and then the door slammed shut. As if the sound had caused it, Arby slid off his stool, and landed with a thump behind the bar. I managed to ease my swaying body over the top to see the old dwarf snoring and clutching an empty bottle like a lover.
“Your sister’s pretty crazy.” Nate chuckled beside me as I lowered onto the stool. I had to force myself to remember that he was referring to Mom when he said that.
“Yeah,” I laughed, finding myself drooping against him, “she gets like that.”
Nate let me rest against him for a moment, then timidly shifted on his stool so that my back pressed against his abdomen. I rested my head on his chest, savoring the subtle rises and falls of his breathing, and the elevated drum of his heart.
“You can put your arms around me, if you want.” I whispered to him. He cautiously raised his arms, and then curled them around me; awkwardly at first, but then embracing me tightly, pulling him into his warmth.
“Have you ever had sex before?” I asked him quietly. He didn’t answer for a moment, and then I felt him shake his head above me, his chin running in a small arc between my antlers.
“Do you want to?” I asked, caressing his embracing arm with my thumb, enjoying the feeling of it enclosed around my breasts.
“Yes.” Nate whispered, his voice shaking slightly.
“Are you scared?” I smiled, my irises topping my eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.
“A little.” Nate laughed nervously.
“I’m a little nervous too,” I laughed, “I’ve never had sex either.”
“Liar.” Nate snorted.
“It’s true!” I insisted with a smile. I turned my head over my shoulder to chide him for his groundless accusation, and found my face inches from his. His dark eyes stared affectionately down, his pink lips quirked in the middle of poorly-shorn stubble and a pronounced jaw. The next thing I was going to say vanished from my mind, and my thoughts became singular, and instinctual.
“I want to have sex with you, Nate,” I breathed against his lips, “I want to have sex with you right now.”
We breathed each other’s breath, we felt each other’s lips, we tasted each other’s tongues. We didn’t know what we were doing, but we knew that it felt right. Our motions were curious and tentative; exploring with caution, easing into passion. My tongue found his gums and teeth, and his found mine. Our lips went from pressing, to locking, and the movements of our internal exploration became more confident, and intense. His embrace loosened about me, and his hands slid from their perches on his opposite elbows to grasp my breasts. He squeezed them gently, and felicitous tingles traveled through my chest, causing my thighs to grind with needful wetness beneath me. I entangled my hand in his hair, and pressed his kiss closer, feeling our passion burn hotter, feeling our hearts quicken and our breaths grow sharp. The desire coursed through me, compelled me, controlled me. I turned around and broke from the kiss, staring into his eyes as glistening salvia bridged our gasping mouths. He cupped my cheek, and brushed a curl of scarlet hair behind my pointed ear, and I grinned at him mischievously as my fingers found his belt.
“Nate,” I giggled, “I’m really excited to touch your penis.”
“I’m… really excited too.” Nate grinned, seemingly unsure of how to answer that. I didn’t mind. The smile on his face was all I needed to see, and the stiffness against his inseam was all I needed to feel. I pulled his belt off, unbuttoned his fly, and giggled delightedly as he came springing out. It was longer than expected, bigger than mine, but it was about the same girth, and I knew my hand would fit around it. My fingers clasped about him gently, and my breath caught briefly as his hard heat seeped into my palm. Nate’s expirations became short and needful, and I sated him with long strokes, lubricating my motions with the froth oozing from his apex.
“Does it feel good when I do that?” I asked quietly, smiling as he nodded, his brow furrowing, his lips gaping slightly.
“Can you do it to me?” I asked him, eyes hopeful. He gave me a confused look, and then grinned. My smile broadened, and I climbed the bars of the stool until my right foot was planted on the seat, and my left was balanced on the lowest rung, right knee bent perpendicularly, left knee straight, legs spread. He reached between my legs as I stroked him, and forced a gasp from my parted lips as his fingers caressed my inner thigh. His forearm created a tent of my skirt that rose higher, revealing more of my fishnet-clad legs with every inch he ascended. His hands tickled me at the meeting of my thighs, and my breath quickened to a fervent urgency, my eyes drooping with need. He watched me intently as his hand pushed my lacing to the side, and then stopped suddenly.
“What?” I asked, lips still smiling. Nate’s eyes narrowed as he fumbled between my legs, his hand not seeming to know what it was touching. His eyes opened wide, and his other hand shot forward, lifted my skirt and revealed what he’d been grasping.
“What the fuck?” he gasped, his face turning pale, his lips parting, his penis deflating in my hand.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling my smile fade, feeling my heart flutter for a new reason.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Nate yelled, pushing me back, sending my tumbling to the floor. I broke my fall with my elbows, and cried out as the pain shot up my arms. Nate hurriedly pulled up his pants, stuffing himself away and staring down at me with disgust written across his face.
“I don’t know!” I cried, confused and scared, not knowing what I’d done, “What did I do?”
“What did you do?!” Nate roared, his face turning red, “What did you do?!”
“Tell me what I did!” I cried, feeling tears brimming at my eyes, “Tell me what I did wrong so that I never do it again!”
“Do I look like a fucking cock-sucker to you?” Nate snarled at me, his posture threatening, rage edging in his voice, “Do you think I’m some kind of faggot?!”
“I don’t know what that is.” I whimpered, cowering below him, giving him my shoulder and curling into a ball.
“It’s what you are!” Nate yelled, pointing his finger down at me, “You’re a fucking faggot, you’re a… a fucking freak! You tried to trick me into your gay little… you’re fucking little… FUCK YOU, YOU FAGGOT SLUT!”
Nate kicked me hard in the ribs, folding my body around his foot and causing me to scream in pain.
“If you tell anyone in Towerhead about this, I’ll fucking kill you, Diamond.” Nate hissed in my ear as I gasped for air, “I’ll tell everyone you’re a lying, faggot witch, and they’ll believe. We’ll tie you and your whore-sister and her whore-friend to a stake, and we’ll have us a good witch-burning just like the olden days.”
Nate stormed away, his stomping feet echoing, and then muting with the slamming of the door. I laid in my fetal ball, trying to gasp away the physical pain as the despair squeezed my chest. Tears burned on my cheeks, pathetic whimpers hissed past my trembling lips, my whole body shuddered with my horrified breaths. I’d never known self-doubt before, but I felt it then. There was something wrong with me; something horribly, irreparably wrong with me. Now I knew why Mom didn’t want me to talk to strangers; it wasn’t them, it was me. Aunt Lucilla had told me I was special, but I didn’t know until that moment that I was a pariah. I had more questions now, but they weren’t born of innocent curiosity, but from sickening reflection. I turned-over every memory I possessed, and watched as each precious moment darkened in the shadow my new realization.
I’m a freak. I’m a faggot. Nate’s words solidified, Mom doesn’t want me because she thinks I’m disgusting. Aunt Lucilla is just pretending to want me because she pities me. Nobody wants me. Nobody loves me. I’m alone, and the only person who ever really cared about me is dead.
I looked at the bar, and saw the knife block standing tantalizingly close, its hidden edges concealing the solution to my problem.
I burst from the room, naked with Lucilla running behind. I couldn’t tell what the yelling had been about, I assumed it was between Nate and Arby, but then I’d heard my daughter’s screams, and I’d scorched the bedsheets with my terror. My drunk vision adjusted to the blurred lighting, and focused to an image of my daughter, knife in one hand, penis in the other, within a heartbeat of doing it.
“NO!” I shrieked, propelling myself across the room with my pounding feet, watching in slow-motion as Diamond made her decision, and brought the knife down. I was too slow. The knife arced, its edge gleaming, closing the gap between its stretched target. A line of white heat shot from my outstretched fingertips, and sent fractals through the air, darkening everything in the well-lit room with its blinding brightness. The sound that came after was deafening, and the force of it blew the furniture to the side of the room, cracked the paned glass, and blew the door ajar. When the patterns of burnt light faded from my vision, I was met with the sight of Diamond sprawled on the floor, breathing heavily, but still blessedly intact. The wall behind her was a black mass of scorched wood, white embers flaring through patterned cracks. I scrambled over to Diamond, kneeling on the ground and scooping her into my arms, feeling my tears wet her neck as she sobbed against me.
“Oh my god, Diamond,” I breathed my horror, my heart thundering like it never had before, “oh my god…”
“I’m a monster.” Diamond sobbed.
“You’re not a monster,” I hissed, holding her with all my strength, wanting to squeeze the pain from her, “I’m the monster, Diamond; I killed your mother, I dragged you from her love and into a hateful world.”
“It’s not the world, it’s me!” Diamond whispered, her nails digging into my back, “You should’ve let me cut it off!”
“No!” I yelled, unable to keep the forcefulness from my voice.
“I know you think it’s wrong; I heard you what you said last night.” Diamond said, pleading with me, “We can both do it, together, and become like everyone else. Then they’ll love us.”
“I love you, Diamond,” I breathed, my daughter’s pain torturing me, “I love you more than you can ever know.”
“No, you don’t,” Diamond croaked, her voice ragged, “you think I’m an abomination!”
“I was wrong,” I whispered, my voice barely yielding, “I was so wrong, Diamond. You’re beautiful just the way you were born, perfect just the way you born.”
“You think I’m disgusting,” Diamond whimpered, “that’s why you think it’s wrong to love me.”
“What?” I said, pulling her from my shoulder, seeing the perfect portrait of grief she displayed for me. Her sparkling freckles glinted brighter with her tears, her apple cheeks were rosy with her anguish, her emerald eyes were filmed and red, and her ruby lips were quivering.
“You said sex is the physical expression of love,” Diamond sniffled, “but you won’t love me, because you think it’s wrong.”
I cupped my daughter on the cheek, wiping away her tears with my thumb, seeing her beauty shine brighter once the pain was dried from it. Where was the voice of disgust, telling me that I was depraved? Where was the pious nun, damning me for my perverse desires? Diamond was a babe of my own loins, a woman of my flesh and blood, and I wanted her. I wanted her even more because of it. The nun in me had almost let my daughter mutilate herself, but the Passion in me would show her pleasures she couldn’t imagine. I would love my baby as the daughter she was, and the woman she’d always been. As Passion had done with her children, so I would do with mine.
“It’s not wrong, Diamond,” I smiled, pulling her face closer to mine, cupping both her cheeks in my palms, “I was wrong, baby; I was so wrong.”
“Do you want to love me?” Diamond whispered, her emerald eyes brimming.
“Yes,” I breathed onto her lips, feeling my heart thumping with yearning, “do you want to love me?”
“Yes.” Diamond said, the words barely a gasp from her mouth. I pulled her face tenderly to mine, and abandoned the last of my old self to the lips of my daughter. I breathed sharply through my nose as her tongue pushed into my mouth, tensing with the last echoes of my piety, before letting the languidness of lust guide my motions. I slid my tongue atop hers, and playfully guided her kiss, instructing her gently in the way only a mother can. Our lips consumed with soft hedonism, our bodies pressed together, and our hearts thumped to the same cadence of anticipation. I climbed to my feet and grasped the supple fat of my daughter’s backside, feeling her melt into me as my fingers sank into her. I picked her up, and smiled around her kissing lips as she wrapped her legs about me, her need pressing hard against my abdomen, mine pressing right alongside hers. I caught a glimpse of Lucilla behind my daughter’s face, and saw that she was wiping tears from a beaming face. She entangled fingers with my daughter, and the three of us walked into the soft candlelight of the bedroom.
Mom was a great kisser. Her tongue placated my every desire, her soft lips pillowed against mine, her flavor soaked its love onto my needful palate. She taught me how to kiss her back with the wet motions of her mouth, and I followed her lustful instructions until we moved gracefully within each other. She laid me on the bed, and her hands moved to the hem of my dress. She broke our kiss for only a moment as the fabric pulled over my face, and I urgently brought our mouths back together once I was laid bare. She pressed her nakedness on top of mine, our breasts squishing delectably, our bellies forming a layer of warmth, our thighs interlocked, and our members pressing together, throbbing their desire. Her hands caressed me along the collar, her fingertips trailing soft fire upon my flesh. I shivered as she brushed each digit across both nipples, and her kiss formed a smile against mine, delighted at my reactiveness. Her fingers moved along the curves of my abdomen, through the lines of my pelvis, and toward the joining of our lust. She stopped there, and began caressing back and forth, teasing me playfully, her smiling kiss growing broader, her teeth gently biting my tongue. I giggled beneath her, and met her loving gaze as our lips parted, seeing the flush of her apple cheeks, and the emerald of her eyes beneath strands of red.
“Do you like how Mommy’s lips feel?” Mom whispered, an endearing smile exposing white teeth.
“Yes.” I smiled back, my body static in anticipation, eagerly awaiting what pleasures she would show me next.
“Do you want Mommy to kiss you in other places?” Mommy sniggered, her nose crinkling.
“Yes!” I gasped, wriggling happily beneath my mother’s warmth.
“Where do you want Mommy to kiss you?” Mom asked, lowering her face and breathing the question into my ear.
“My nipples.” I said, arching my back so that my chest jutted forward. Mom laughed sweetly into my ear, and then kissed a trail down my chest, stopping when her lips hovered above my nipple. She glanced to the side, and made a small gesture with her eyes. Aunt Lucilla draped herself next to Mother, her pale complexion gleaming its patterns softly in the candlelight, her sapphire eyes smiling with loving lips.
“Do you want Aunt Lucilla to kiss you too?” she smirked, like it was a secret joke only we were in on.
“Yes.” I smirked back. Aunt Lucilla pressed her mouth to mine, and opened it to let me show her what Mom had taught me. She hummed her approval as our mouths rotated and our tongues entwined, and then she parted with a satisfied smile, gave me a wink that caused me to giggle, and wrapped her lips around my right nipple as Mom did the same to my left. I moaned softly as they drew my nodes to throbbing points in their mouths, and then moaned louder as their tongues pushed against me. They sucked gently; the soft, olive flesh of my bust stretching with their lips, two pairs of eyes smiling lovingly up at me. I ran my splayed hands through their hair, relishing the soft texture of it, then grasped them gently about the backs of their heads, and pushed them deeper. They exchanged knowing glances as I moaned even louder, then they pulled from my breasts, leaving purple suction marks and shining spit about my areolas.
“Where do you want Mommy and Aunt Lucilla to kiss you next?” Mom grinned, the excitement shining in her eyes.
“I want…” I smirked playfully, letting my finger move from one woman, to the next, “Mom to kiss my penis, and Aunt Lucilla to kiss my vagina.”
“From now on, Sparkles,” Aunt Lucilla smiled, “use less medical terminology.”
“Fine,” I grinned devilishly, “I want Mom to suck my cock, and Aunt Lucilla to eat my asshole.”
“I think you made a mistake, Diamond.” Mom chuckled.
“I don’t think I did.” I grinned back.
“You act like it’s a punishment,” Aunt Lucilla smirked as she guided me to roll to my side, “I just had a taste of your mother, and found that I’ve developed quite an appetite for bitchy asshole.”
I stuck my tongue out at her, and she returned the gesture as she descended in time with Mom. Aunt Lucilla gripped my cheeks and spread, her thumbs pressing gently about my rim, exposing me, making me feel wonderfully vulnerable. Mom’s hands pressed softly against my pelvis, extending me further, making me feel raging need. Their mouths breathed on my respective parts, mingling the desires of my femaleness and maleness, ratcheting the anticipation of my sexual duality. I gasped as Mom’s lips enveloped my tip, and whimpered as Aunt Lucilla’s tongue began circling my spokes. Mom paused to look up at me, a maternal expression on her kindly face, contrasting the perverseness of her consumption. She quirked her occupied mouth in an endearing smile, and I returned it with one of girlish excitement. Aunt Lucilla gave me a look of the utmost depravity; her sapphire irises topping the whites of her eyes, her open mouth drooling hungrily as her tongue tasted my tender, pink circle. I gave her a teasing sneer, and she gave me a wink, and pushed in.
Their mouths descended in time, their faces pressing into soft taint and flat pelvis, forcing an involuntary shiver that ran from my thighs to the nape of my neck. I felt my cock bulging deeply in my mother’s soft, warm throat, and my anus opening to welcome Aunt Lucilla’s hot, wet tongue. They both rotated their sucking lips; Mom about my base, and Aunt Lucilla about my rim, and I squirmed between them, trapped in a prison of splendor, reacting to one, then the other. I gasped and giggled as I reached down and planted my hands atop their heads, looking for support in my lustful bridge. Mom’s emerald eyes gleamed their affection as she lovingly sucked me, while Aunt Lucilla’s glinted with more playfulness as she curled her tongue against my anal wall, and stimulated my pussy from the wrong side. I moaned an escalating tone as I felt their fingers slide together from opposite sides, trailing tender torture down my taint and below my shaft. They met in the middle, and penetrated my virginity with two fingers each.
“Oh, Good Mother!” I cried, echoing Mom’s typical exclamation. Mom’s finger curled and pressed against my spot, while Aunt Lucilla’s squished my fleshy division against her tongue. My legs tensed beneath me, and I began twisting and thrusting uncontrollably, stuck between trying to consume Aunt Lucilla’s face with my ass, while burying my cock into my mother’s throat. They didn’t let me choose. They pushed their faces firmly against me, squishing their complexions against my crotch and ass, consuming me and invading me with wet, tender heat that moistened my insides and sheened my outsides. It was too much to take. Their fingers moved gently, but relentlessly, finding the secrets of my womanhood and exploiting them without mercy. Mom’s mouth sucked with ravenous tenderness, drawing me deeper into her throat, sliding only along the last inches of my base and taking everything else with ease. Aunt Lucilla tasted me with more hedonism; licking and prodding, expanding and exploring, sucking my rim and humming her lecherous approval as I winked and constricted around her penetrating tongue. She found a spot in my rectum I didn’t know existed, and I yelped and jerked into a back-wrenching arch. She was only encouraged by my reaction, and pressed her tongue savagely against my prostate, milking me as she stimulated it from the other side with her fingers. I whimpered and thrashed, grinding my thighs together against their wrists as their practiced fingers drove me to the brink of sanity, and their expert mouths pushed me over the edge of it. My eyes rolled into my head, and a rasping sound crawled from my chest as I felt the expansion in my nethers accompany the boiling in my loins. Mom began sucking harder, Aunt Lucilla began pushing deeper. My pussy convulsed and spasmed, my abdomen clenched and twisted, my diaphragm heaved with escalating breaths as my mouth sung primal ecstasy. I went rigid as the feeling reached its precipice, and both my lovers pushed their faces until my soft flesh deformed around them. The feeling dragged through an eternal, wonderful moment, and then erupted. My pussy gushed in a stream of release, my cock burst with a felicitous expulsion, and my anus coiled into a contraction of depraved euphoria. I sputtered and gasped the feeling, hardly able to make a sound as I poured my cum deep into my mother’s belly, and trapped Aunt Lucilla’s tongue into my tightening asshole. They let me thrash between them as I leaked from my holes, and then they slowly parted; spit and secretion clinging to their marred lips.
“Mmm, Diamond,” Mom moaned, “you’re delicious. Do you want to know how you taste?”
“You wouldn’t let me try it before.” I said, my voice full of breath.
“I was wrong about a lot of things before, Sweetie.” Mom smiled, white fluid oozing from her red lips. She rose to me, her body moving with a languidness that seemed almost liquid. She was an entirely different woman in bed than she was in the world, a goddess of sensuality, and all I could do was smile as her lips connected with mine. I tasted the salt of my lust, and found it to be mouthwatering when mingled with the flavor of Mom’s tongue. We passed it back and forth between us, letting it dribble from the corners of our grinning lips as we sucked upon each other.
“I taste good.” I giggled when we parted, and Mom grinned her agreement.
“Yes, you do,” Aunt Lucilla’s teasing, sensual voice spoke in my ear, “do you want to know how delicious your asshole is?”
“Yuck!” I sniggered, pushing Aunt Lucilla’s face away, “Go brush your teeth before you-”
Aunt Lucilla forced her mouth to mine, managing to smirk as she pushed her sullied tongue between my lips. I struggled for a vain moment before I was compelled to kiss her back, and accept the flavor of my own ass into my mouth. Aunt Lucilla was right; I was delicious. The filthy tang of my sinful hole was delivered from the slutty tongue of my adoptive aunt, and all I could do was hum into her mouth as I indulged in my own depravity.
“Tomorrow you’re going to return the favor,” Aunt Lucilla breathed onto my parted lips as she ran a finger over them, “but tonight, it’s all about you, Sparkles. So, are you ready to become a woman?”
I grasped my daughter about the small of her back, and rolled us over to a chorus of giggles and motherly chuckles. She laid atop me for a moment, letting her scarlet hair tickle my face, her expression bright with excitement. We shared a brief kiss before I took her by the shoulders, and gently guided her to a straddling position about my hips. Lucilla slid her curvaceous form alongside Diamond’s slender body, grasped my cock with a wink, and delivered it to my daughter. Diamond gave me a small, bashful smile as she curled her fingers around my shaft, and I let my hands slide along her delicate frame until they rested on her hips.
“Are you ready?” I asked her. Diamond looked down at what she had in her hand, her curly mane forming a curtain over her face. Lucilla brushed it aside to reveal apprehension in Diamond’s downcast expression.
“It’s really big.” She said quietly.
“It’s OK if you’re not ready,” I said, bringing my body up to hers, pressing our torsos and breasts together, “there’s no rush, Sweetie.”
“I’m ready,” Diamond insisted with a scared smile, “I’m just nervous.”
“I’ll be so gentle with you,” I breathed onto her as I cupped her apple cheek, “I will never hurt you.”
“Unless you want to be hurt.” Lucilla sniggered unhelpfully. I gave her a look, and she receded with an apologetic smile.
“You’re in control, Diamond,” I said, brushing scarlet hair behind her pointed ear, “only do what you’re comfortable with, but don’t be afraid to let yourself go. There’s a world of joy to be had in sex, but only if you’re bold.”
“I’m bold!” Diamond grinned.
“Of course, you are,” I smiled, crinkling my nose affectionately, “you’re a diamond. Now shine for me, baby girl.”
Lucilla moved behind Diamond, resting her hands on my daughter’s shoulders and placing a calming kiss on the elegant protrusion of her collar. I gently guided Diamond to place her weight on her knees, and hovered her glistening slit over my manhood. Her own member stood proud from her crotch, and Lucilla reached around and stroked it slowly as I eased my daughter downward. Her emerald eyes were wide with excitement and fear, and only enlarged as my tip pressed to her soft petals. I rested my hands weightlessly on her thighs, letting her decide how to proceed, gazing into her with all the calming love I could express as my heart pounded with anticipation.
“That’s it,” I whispered as my daughter took my tip inside her, “you’re doing so well, Diamond.”
Diamond bit her lip in concentration, her thighs quivering slightly as she took another inch. Her breaths became audible through her nose, and her chest began to rise and fall with them. She took another inch, and stopped, looking up at me with an astonished expression.
“Mom,” she said quietly, mouth gaping, “I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“No,” I smiled, cupping her cheek, “you’re a woman now.”
“Oh my god!” Diamond giggled excitedly, a moan caressing her mirth.
“Congratulations,” Lucilla whispered in my daughter’s ear, her lips brushing the lobe, “now quit being such a pussy with your pussy, and drop your hips.”
“Lucilla...” I glowered at her.
“Don’t you want to make Mommy feel good?” Lucilla whispered to Diamond, her eyes smirking at me. Diamond smiled and nodded to her de-facto aunt.
“Well,” Lucilla grinned at my daughter, stroking her olive cock until it curved upward, “then you have to take all of her.”
“But she’s so big!” Diamond protested softly, easing herself to take another two inches of me. I felt her virginity tighten before me, resisting me before imminent pain, reaching her limit.
“You don’t have to go any further, Diamond.” I gasped, relishing the tautness of her, feeling her heartbeat pulsing from the tender coil of her chastity. Good Mother, she was tight. Despite my maternal desires not to hurt her, I couldn’t help but hope that Lucilla would goad her into taking all of me. I wanted to feel every inch of myself buried in my daughter, and the need was beginning to bleed through my gentle disposition. Lucilla could tell.
“I know it hurts,” Lucilla whispered into Diamond’s ear as Diamond moaned from the new sensations taking her, “and your mom’s too nice to make you, but trust me; it will feel so good if you take all of it.”
“She’s already so deep inside me!” Diamond whined, her chest heaving, her voice high, “I don’t think I can take anymore!”
“Sure, you can,” Lucilla smiled at my daughter, “be bold, Sparkles.”
“It hurts!” my daughter insisted, breathing heavily, “I can’t!”
“You’ll never know your limits if you don’t test them,” I said, breathing my need onto my daughter’s lips, my hands squeezing hungry fingers into soft thighs, “and you are limitless, Sweetie.”
“I’m scared,” Diamond whimpered, the pleasured contractions of her taken virginity driving me mad, “you said you wouldn’t hurt me!”
“Do you trust me?” I asked her, lips brushing hers.
“Yes.” Diamond said quietly, her voice small and fearful, but also hopeful. I pressed my lips to hers, opened our mouths and exchanged our tongues, giving her lustful comfort in a maternal kiss. I pushed her trembling thighs harder, and tasted her pain and fear as I broke through the last of her chastity. She jerked forward, her arched body squishing its subtle curves into my busty protrusions, the hint of a cry singing from her muffled mouth. I kissed her deeply, lovingly, as I guided the last inches of myself deep inside my daughter. Our pelvises met, and I moaned as I felt her broken virginity squeeze me from base to tip, clenching with the pain of my piercing, her tenderness surrounding me on all sides as I violated it. I tasted the change that took place within her; the innocence fading in her kiss, her surrender to the feeling, her acceptance of me inside her. The tension in her posture began to loosen, the tortured offering of her lips began to soften to sanguinity, the whining tone of her pain drawled to a moan in my mouth. She separated our mouths in a gasp, her hips dropping behind her, her back arching at the base of her spine.
“Oh my god.” She breathed, her eyes half-lidded, intoxicated with pleasure, the girlish innocence gone from them.
“Does it feel good?” I smiled across her lips.
“Yes,” she breathed, resting her body on mine, seeming to grow weak from the feeling, “it feels so good, Mom! Do I make you feel good?”
“Like heaven,” I smiled, moaning the words, “you’re so tight, Diamond. Does it hurt anymore?”
“No,” Diamond hissed, shifting her hips in a way that caused her lips to constrict around my base, “it just feel so good!”
“Now it’s time to discover who you really are,” Lucilla whispered to Diamond as she stroked her, “what kind of a lover are you?”
“Just do what comes naturally to you,” I said, petting my daughter’s cheek and smiling as she took my thumb between sucking lips, “and I will be whatever you want me to be.”
Diamond let her eyes droop to slits, and her mouth suck gently around my digit as her body took control. She began to grind with slow, deep motions; her toned abdomen flexing in shadows against an olive canvas, her conical breasts jutting forward as her shoulders pinched together and her back arched behind her. I thrusted gently with her, letting her explore the nature of our melded forms, letting her feel my driving masculinity without the rage. Her pussy sheened me with its nectar, her lips tugged from her as she stirred, her channel hugged me with love and flexed in rolls of lewd muscles.
“A gentle lover?” Lucilla mused, pulling her hand away and letting Diamond’s cock slide freely against my belly. The sensuality of Diamond’s movements came naturally to her, inheriting her gifts from her ethereal mother, but she had an edge Passion never expressed. I could see it in the green sparkle behind her eyes, in the way her red lips quirked around my thumb. No, Diamond was just testing herself. Diamond would not be a gentle lover.
“Mom?” she smirked, pulling my thumb from her mouth.
“Yes, Sweetie?” I smirked back, letting the danger play across my smile. My female side might’ve been veered toward submissiveness, but my male side was dominating, and I could tell Diamond wanted a taste of it. She leaned forward, drawing a teasing finger along my jaw, working her hips with an experience she didn’t have as her cock drooled cum across our pressing bellies.
“I think…” she said, exploring my body with curious eyes, “…I want you to stop making love to me.”
“And do what?” I asked, gazes connecting in mutual hunger.
“I want you to fuck me.” Diamond breathed the words, almost a plea, almost a demand. Good Mother, it turned me on.
“Like this?” I asked, thrusting into her with increasing force, causing her thighs to bounce off mine.
“Harder.” She grinned, her breaths growing sharper.
“Like this?” I grinned back, now driving with my knees bent, sounding the slaps of our colliding pelvises with claps of my daughter’s jiggling cheeks.
“Harder!” Diamond moaned, the playful glint in her eyes turning to avarice, the red smile of her lips gaping with need.
“Like this?!” I growled, grabbing her by the hips and driving faster and faster, feeling her pussy convulse its approval, hearing her mouth yelp its delight.
“Yes!” Diamond cried, grinding against me, squirming in a writhe atop my body as I violated every inch her insides had to offer. She pinned my shoulders to the bed and thrusted back, meeting me in the middle, impacting our bodies at the height of our speed and causing our penetration to deepen. I touched the tightest depths of her, and she took me in willingly, greedily, relishing the passion, but not letting the sex veer into violence. Diamond’s womanly lust mixed her mother’s sensuality with my masculine rage. She grinded with sinuous grace, drove with heated need, growled and giggled in turn as playfulness met vehemence. The kisses we shared between moans had a challenge to them, the slight pulling of hair and digging of nails hinted at the violence, but the gentle bites and covetous squeezes spoke of a tenderness, and the loving connection of our emerald irises whispered of mutual trust. She tested me, as a daughter is bound to do, and I let her know where she could get away with it, and where she would be disciplined. She balanced the line perfectly, and I marveled at how quickly she learned. My baby girl was growing up before my eyes.
“Mom,” Diamond grinned, her mouth expiring moans and gasps, “sex is really fun!”
“Yeah, it is!” I giggled, squeezing her ass until my fingers disappeared in the fat, seeing the outline of her spread domes jiggle behind her arched back. She squeezed my breasts in turn, and we both laughed and moaned as I spurted milk onto our bodies, and into our mouths.
“Excuse me!” an indignant voice yelled beside us, “I happen to like fun too! I’m feeling very abandoned over here!”
“Oh, no!” Diamond sniggered at me, flicking her tongue across mine, “We forgot about Aunt Lucilla!”
“She’s easy to forget,” I smirked over my daughter’s shoulder, “don’t blame yourself; it happens to everyone.”
“Na-ah!” Lucilla squawked, crawling her voluptuous, naked form over to us, “You do not get to make me the third wheel! This is a tricycle, bitches, and it doesn’t work with me!”
“I thought of it as more of tandem bicycle,” I grinned at Lucilla, “and you’re the seat without pedals they give to the mentally challenged.”
“Don’t be so mean to Aunt Lucilla,” Diamond giggled, “it’s not polite to make fun of retards.”
Lucilla slapped Diamond hard across the ass, causing my daughter to jerk with a squeal, her eyes widening, her lips gaping in a surprised, but delighted smile. She clenched around me in a vice-hold that nearly pulled the seed from my loins, and I had to resist the urge to come through clenched teeth as my daughter shared a sloppy kiss with her aunt. They parted with a teasing challenge in their locked gazes, their lips quirked in near-identical smiles.
“I’m going to make a man out of you, young lady,” Lucilla smirked, a lascivious thumb running across Diamond’s lips, “and you better not disappoint me.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Diamond smiled back, “you’re easy.”
“Oh, Sweetie,” I groaned, “Aunt Lucilla is going to make you pay for that.”
Diamond turned around atop her mother, moaning as Julia’s cock stirred the stretched lips of her frothing pussy. She straddled her mother while facing me, her heels planted beneath her thighs, knees pushed into the bedding, her slender form curved back in a slight arch, her cock the vertex of her bodily curve, presenting it to me. I crawled to her, watching the desire in her eyes grow as my hips swayed, my breasts pushed together by my supporting arms, my tongue running across hungry lips. I climbed her body, guiding her down against her mother, seeing two sets of identical, green eyes watching me, two sets of identical, red lips parted and smiling, Julia’s chin resting on Diamond’s shoulder, both mouths expiring soft pleasure. I straddled my adoptive niece, gasping as I felt her masculinity push against my oozing petals, watching her desire brim as I teased it across the length of my slit. Back and forth, back and forth, I slowly sheened Diamond’s shaft, slowly built the tension, my mouth parting wider as moans of need coursed from me, my grin curving as I witnessed her growing frustration. She reached to grab my hips, and I intercepted her wrists and forced them above her head, my breasts flattening against hers, my sneering eyes inches from her widening gaze. I pressed my pelvis down, squishing her cock against her abdomen, and grinded along her length, hearing the sweet sound of her whimpering to my torment, watching her youthful face twist into pathetic surrender. Too fucking easy.
“C’mon, Sparkles,” I hissed, my breath catching my words, “I thought I was supposed to be easy?”
“Oooh.” Diamond responded in a moan, her brow furrowed, her lips trembling. I bit gently on her bottom lip, pulling it from her mouth between grinning teeth as I felt her cock pulsing between my soft folds, flexing with need, nearly driving me over the edge, but not quite.
“Well?” I chuckled, gnawing on her chin playfully, “Aren’t you going to take me? Aren’t you going to grab my ass, spread me wide, and make me scream for it?”
Diamond moaned her response again, shifting weakly beneath me, taking her mother’s cock deeper into her, but not even attempting to penetrate me. Her head fell backward, exposing the bow of her neck, and I licked it from collar to ear, marking her possessively, feeling her heart flutter at my domination.
“Sweetie,” Julia whispered into her daughter’s ear, “do you need my help?”
“No!” Diamond gasped, chin tilting back, neck flexing. She looked to be straining, but she made no attempt to pull her wrists free. She liked what I was doing to her. She liked being under my control.
“I don’t think Diamond’s male side is like yours,” I whispered to Julia, my words punctuated by breath as Diamond’s cock throbbed between me, “I think that part of your daughter might be a submissive, little bitch.”
“Interesting,” Julia smiled, mouth brushing against her daughter’s neck, nose taking an indulgent sniff, “there’s a duality to her.”
“And it’s the opposite of yours.” I noted, grinding my hips in a circular path, smearing my lustful secretion all over Diamond’s pelvis as she whimpered and moaned pathetically, wanting me to dominate her, begging me to make her mine. I’d never been with a submissive male partner, and I’d never known until that moment that I wanted one. Sadism didn’t do much for me, but my night with Julia by the Terondia River had awoken a certain… gentle domination fetish; ‘tortuous seduction’ would be a good word for it (and a good band name). I grabbed Diamond by an antler, and pulled her face forward; gently, but firmly. I was in control, but I would be a generous mistress.
“Do you want to be my little pet?” I whispered, intimately, almost threateningly, my finger tracing her jaw. Her doe eyes brimmed her answer, her bottom lip pouting, her cock engorging even more. I glanced over at Julia to make sure I wasn’t overstepping, but she just grinned back; I could have my fun with her daughter. I reached between my legs and grabbed Diamond, squeezing until minor discomfort, watching her eyes droop to begging crescents.
“Answer me, Sparkles.” I hissed
“Yes!” Diamond whined back at me, nodding her head as best she could with my fist clamped around her antler, “I’m your little slut!”
“And will my little slut do whatever I demand?” I prompted. God, this is fun.
“Yes!” Diamond cried as I pressed my thumb against the base of her tip, bubbling precum from it. I grinned maliciously down at her, savoring the control I had, relishing the submissive expression on her face.
“I don’t think your tiny cock can satisfy me. Do you think you deserve to fuck me?” I sneered, stroking her possessively. Truth be told, Diamond was on the smaller side of average, but she was by no means tiny. I knew men were very sensitive about such trivial things, and I worried for a moment that I’d gone too far, but Diamond absolutely reveled in the degradation.
“No, Aunt Lucilla!” Diamond cried, “But I beg you, please take my virginity!”
I studied her desperate face with exaggerated imperiousness, my heart beating, my pussy pooling its lust, my need almost overtaking my self-control. I let her antler go, let her head drape over her mother’s shoulder, let her eyes watch me from the bottoms of her whites. Her arms were splayed to her sides, her petite breasts rose and fell with her anticipatory breaths, her cock pulsed and drooled against my cunt, the shaft pushing delectably against my labia, flushed red with desire. I wrapped a gentle hand around her neck, not squeezing, and raised my hips behind me as I dragged the point of her member through my lust. I zeroed-in on my entrance, and broke character for just a moment, giving Diamond a compassionate grin. She broke her submissive façade as well, giving me a lip-biting smile full of excitement, and then I took every inch of her, and wiped the smile off her face.
Aunt Lucilla’s insides were hot and wet, constricting around me in a welcoming vice of soft flesh, pulsing with waves of muscle that drew me deeper into her. Her large breasts flattened against my petite ones, their domes glowing with Mom’s energy, whose equally ample bust cushioned against my shoulder blades. Mom nuzzled her face into my neck and breathed her moans as she began thrusting into me, pushing through my insides and compelling me to do the same to Aunt Lucilla. Aunt Lucilla’s domineering expression softened as I invaded her, but she kept her hand wrapped about my throat, letting me know she was still in control, just like I wanted. I didn’t know why my masculine side desired to be subservient to an overbearing woman, but I didn’t question it. The moment Aunt Lucilla climbed atop my body, I knew how I wanted her, and she did not disappoint. Though I drove with the increasingly heated thrusts of my mother, I did not attempt to echo her vehemence. I let Aunt Lucilla dictate how we made love, and she was an expert mistress. She rose to an upright position, straddled across my pelvis, her hand leaving my throat and trailing possessively over my breasts. She watched me from imperious eyes, nose crinkled in a sneer, pink lips quirked devilishly below them. She took a nipple in each hand, squeezed, and twisted. My head fell back, my shoulders pinched together, and my hips shot forward, compelled to thrust out of congruence with my mother, blasting upward into Aunt Lucilla, and coming down to meet Mom’s accelerating thrust. All three of us cried out in response to the change; Mom hissing an approving tone against my ear, Aunt Lucilla flinging her head back and addressing the ceiling, and me, whining pathetically as I was taken by my parents, trapped between their voluptuous bodies as their warmth melded into me.
Aunt Lucilla torqued my breasts into spirals of olive flesh, the nipples throbbing between her thumbs and forefingers, the stinging sinking to my chest, persuading me to thrust just how she wanted, a toy her for use, a puppet for her entertainment. She rode me like a cowgirl on a bucking bronco, balancing with the expertness of experience. Her hips shifted in an alluring pattern; one rising, one falling, one cheek bulging behind her, the other dropping. Her abdomen stretched and clenched, the patterns drawn across it highlighting the subtle lines of muscle beneath her silky complexion, her fiery canvas growing brighter with each thrust from mother, and then me. Her imperious glare, the sneer across her lips, the avarice in her eyes, all began to change as we moved with deeper, harder motions. Her brow furrowed at its meeting, her lips gaped to a pink oval, her neck flexed and striated as her calls grew hoarser, raising in pitch to a fervent tenor. She clenched and flexed around me, the motion of her sinuous grinds stirring her pussy about my driving cock, her lips sucking me in whilst leaking their lust all over my pelvis. Mom grasped my hips and held me in place for a moment, and then blasted into me with more force than she ever had. I screamed my delight as my pelvis was forced into the air, and Aunt Lucilla with it. Aunt Lucilla’s hands left my breasts, her head flung back, her scream harmonized with mine as the circular motion of her grinds lost their grace, and became manic shifts back and forth, her body locking and jerking with a renewed urgency. The fluidity of her lust gave way to vehement lurches, her breasts jiggling from their perches, her ass clapping behind her, her insides coiling around me, daring me to break her resistances with each thrust forced from my mother. Her lips peeled back to reveal gritted teeth, her sonorous voice giving way to growls and guttural moans. Mom’s breath was hot on my neck, her tone telling me she was losing control, her drives all but confirming it. I let her take me, let her become the power of our lust, let her penetrate me with the desperate violence she couldn’t repress. I became her woman; grinding against her, clenching around her, welcoming her inside me and allowing her to use me as the tool to fuck Aunt Lucilla, teaching me the ways of a man’s love. Through it all, Mom whispered soft nothings into my ear; maternal, comforting sounds that were almost apologetic, as though she was asking for forgiveness as she violated me so perfectly.
“Oh, fuck!” Aunt Lucilla half-cried, half snarled. The force of my assisted thrusts making her posture weak with pleasure. She collapsed atop me, her breath against the other side of my neck, her lurching body smearing sweat and juices across me as I did the same to her. Mom’s heat was radiating wetly against my back, her exerted breaths and moans growing louder, her masculine lust completely uncaged. She grabbed my ass, pressed it firmly against her crotch, and sunk her finger deep into the succulent flesh as she pivoted me where she wanted, and drove mercilessly. I screamed my abject pleasure, feeling the tension within my nethers wind tighter and tighter, feeling the boiling in my loins go from a simmer, to roil. Aunt Lucilla took a desperate hold of my hair, looking for some part of me to hold on to, and pulled until tears of pain and delight filmed my eyes.
“Put your fingers in my ass!” she screamed, and I reached back, and complied. I grabbed one supple, jiggling glute, spread it wide, and forced my middle and ring finger deep into her vile heat. Her pussy constricted around me as her asshole did the same, and she whimpered her approval as I moaned mine. She pulled my head forward by the hair, and gave me a grateful, passionate kiss; lips smearing sloppily, tongue invading hedonistically, the devouring nature born of instinctual, primal motions with no pretense or grace. The feeling built, and built, the intensity taking me, the tension winding past unbearable. I broke from the kiss in a mindless chorus of cries, Aunt Lucilla echoing them, spit stringing from her lips, her trembling eyes wide, their blue irises staring manically into me. I twisted my fingers aggressively into her ass, feeling her rim stretch, feeling her insides pulsing against my cock with the same sporadic fervency that my insides were doing against my mother. Mom’s breathy moans were becoming rough cries, each note punctuated with a gasp for air. She thrust harder and harder, faster and faster, smashing her crotch against my pelvis, my ruined pussy gushing its perverse thanks. I screamed and gasped with her, each expulsion a labor from my heaving chest, my heart thrumming against Aunt Lucilla’s squished breasts as her hips drove forward, trying to consume every inch of me. My insides churned and quaked, the tension building and expanding, compelling me to lurch to the same locking and jerking pattern that Aunt Lucilla was a slave to. She suddenly shot upright, her hands leaving my hair and pressing down on my belly, her ass clamping around my fingers, her platinum hair flailing in an arc. Her abdomen clenched and twitched with contractions, just like mine did. Her mouth gasped and sputtered soundlessly, just like mine did. Her ruined pussy twitched and pulsed around the cock inside her, just like mine did. I felt the moment take all of us, felt the heat of Mom’s thrust reach their crescendo, felt the tension within my nethers reach the breaking point, and the boiling in my loins reach the point of eruption. Mom thrust one last time, pushing all three of us from the bedding, her cock throbbing chaotically inside me, mingling its eminent expulsion with the breaking of my feminine lust. The tension snapped, the feeling burst, and I lost my mind in the ecstasy. I heaved, my back arching, my shoulders pressing deeply into the succulent pillow of Mom’s breasts. My head fell backward, neck curving, bulging with tendons, mouth choking on a scream, eyes staring at nothing. The feeling exploded inside me; Mom’s seed rushing into my welcoming womb, my seed rushing into Aunt Lucilla’s, the release of my loins turning my legs to jelly, the release of my nethers turning my entire body to liquid weakness. It flowed outwardly from me, taking hold of my every nerve, taking control of every neuron, turning me into the singular sensation of euphoria.
Throbbing heat violating me, pulsing heat consuming me, tender warmth surrounding me, pressing into me, comforting me. Panting, gasping, from my mouth and from others, sweet stink of sweat and lust, sweet taste of another’s spit. One mouth, and then the other, sharing my love, our sucking lips communicating more than words could ever say, our entwined tongue translating them. Blue eyes staring down at me, green eyes staring from my side, pinks lips and red lips smiling lovingly. The rigidity of our bodies relaxing to languidness, staying inside each other as exhaustion takes over. One body pressing down on me, it’s weight a comfort, the other seeping warmth from below, thighs interlocking, fluids mingling, soft giggles and lazy sighs. We still make love, we’re still tense where tension is required, but the motions aren’t born of fervent lust, but of a desire to be close, to be inside. Soft kisses and tender chuckles, knowing winks and hissing moans. Moving to our sides, conforming our bodies together, falling from consciousness in each other’s arms, in each other’s bodies. A family.
“…that’s it, now work the- oh look, she’s awake.”
Lucilla’s giggle touched my ears, opening my eyes to slits, revealing dawn beams that caught specs of dust, and created an orange aura about my daughter. She lay between my spread legs; green eyes stared adoringly from beneath scarlet eyebrows, curly hair in tangles about black antlers, and grinning, red lips creasing her apple cheeks, hovering just above my morning glory.
“Aunt Lucilla is teaching me how to use my mouth.” Diamond grinned, her tongue sliding along the bottom of my shaft. I groaned sleepily, wiping the exhaustion from eyes and smiling down at my daughter. Her grin opened wide, and she took an ambitious amount of me into her mouth. Her eyes enlarged, filled with tears, and then she pulled away, coughing and sputtering, her cheeks as flushed with embarrassment as they were with discomfort. Lucilla laughed endearingly, tousling Diamonds hair playfully as my daughter hacked the last of her failed attempt all over my crotch.
“Watch and learn, Sparkles.” Lucilla said sultrily, easing herself beside my daughter, making me spread my legs wide to accommodate both women in the space between. Lucilla curled her finger around my cock, smirked at me as she brought the tip to her pink lips, smooshed their outline about the crease of her mouth, and took every inch of me in one gurgling motion. Diamond’s eyes went wide watching her adoptive aunt make my cock disappear, a hedonistic hum filtering from Lucilla’s lips as she rotated them around my base. My head fell back against the pillow, a surrendered groan slipping from my lips, silently thanking the Holy Mother for slutty royalty. Lucilla gave me a look of the utmost depravity, gave my daughter a playful wink, and made my manhood reappear with a new coat of spit shining from its surface.
“How did you do that?” Diamond whispered, her voice touched with awe, her eyes wide with it.
“I just relaxed my throat, and took it in.” Lucilla explained, guiding my daughter back to my crotch, glancing up at me with a smirk in her eyes, “All it takes is practice, and we have all morning to teach you.”
I laced my fingers behind my head and sighed as teacher taught student; giggles, gags and gurgles emulating from marred lips, both pink and red stringing with my precum. After ten minutes of tearful trials, my daughter’s green eyes sparkled proudly up at me, her consuming lips kissing my base, four of her fingers forked, two in each of my holes. She grinned as best as she could around my throbbing heat, and twisted her penetrating digits as far as she could force them. I moaned weakly, thrust my hips, and arch my back. Thank you, Passion. I thought to the void as our daughter swallowed every drop of my orgasm, Thank The Mother for you.
I stepped from my room and into the commons area, skin still steaming slightly from the cold shower I had made comfortably warm. Across the commons, the wall where my lightening had struck was black with fractal patterns. I didn’t know how I was going to explain that to Arby, but I figured a generous amount of Lucilla’s gold would satisfy his questions. I was considered a god by some, but it often seemed that no power was greater than being rich. The old dwarf wasn’t behind the bar when I looked, but the sound of chopping wood alerted me to his location outside. I adjusted my blouse, pushing my breasts together to ease the apology, and stepped outside.
Nate’s lean, muscular back flexed as he split the final log upon the stump. He groaned, stretched broadly, and wiped the sweat from his brow. The door shut behind me, and Nate turned around. He met my narrowed eyes with a scowl, hacked phlegm, and spat it into the dirt. I felt the heat playing gleefully just beneath my flesh, burning behind my eyes, cajoling me to just… kill the little turd. My years spent in the convent served me well when fury threatened to overtake rationality, and I took three calming breaths through my nose.
“Good morning, Nate.” I said. He snorted his derision, and my fingers curled to balls. Easy, Julia. Find peace in the Mother, find forgiveness within her mercy.
“Diamond told me what happened last night.” I continued, keeping my voice level. He snorted again, this time adding a sneer to his response. Careful Julia, careful. Just because you’re a killer now, doesn’t mean you need to roast everyone you don’t like, or hate.
Nate turned around, his expression telling me he didn’t think I was worth the time of day. He took a deep pull from his water skin, rolled his head about his shoulders, then stepped atop the chopping stump, dropped his pants, and took a piss. I got his message loud and clear, but I couldn’t help but turn his insult into an opportunity. I strolled over to him, smiling companionably as he frowned over his shoulder. I stood beside him, whipped out my cock, and pissed into his growing puddle. I whistled a whimsical tune as I heard his stream dribble out, then nonchalantly glanced to my side, and gave his manhood a headshaking smirk. My eyes rolled to his, and I saw the sweet combination of disgust, confusion and intimidation contort his face.
“I guess we can’t all be blessed,” I smiled, wagging my tool teasingly, “but don’t feel too bad; I’m sure it’s just cold this morning. Here, let me help you out.”
And with that, my stream of piss turned into a torrent of molten flame, igniting the ground before us. Nate stumbled backward, falling off the stump and onto his ass, horror the only expression on his face now. I gave him a look of innocent confusion, and turned around as if to ask what was wrong, my stream of infernal urine rotating with me, nearing Nate’s splayed body. He screamed, scrambled to his feet as best he could with his pants around his ankles, and hopped back to Towerhead, his bare (and admittedly well-shaped) ass jiggling behind him. I watched him go as my stream sputtered out, leaving blackened earth that smelled strongly of ammonia. I stepped away from my steaming waste, and took a deep breath of the dewy dawn air.
Across vast golden fields, the violet light of dawn silhouetted the points of spires in the distance. Drastin stood in defiance of the rising sun, sprawling from horizon to horizon, its highways reaching outward like perpendicular arteries over the rural planes that fed it. Endless caravans traversed these arteries, bringing the lifeblood of wares and riches to the greatest metropolis in the world. Somewhere in that pulsing mass of sin and life, the Life Giver was unknowingly waiting for me. Somewhere in the canyons of those man-made mountains, was destiny.
“Good Mother, it smells like piss out here!” Arby exclaimed as he stepped beside me. I squawked and jumped, my heart thundering in my chest, the fire stoking beneath my flesh.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I yelled.
“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Jules, I didn’t mean to startle ya.” He chuckled, pulling out a pipe, “I was just nursing a hangover and looking for my wayward employee. You haven’t seen Nate around here, have ya?”
“No.” I lied, catching my breath.
“I could’ve sworn I heard him chopping firewood.” Arby frowned, looking at the stack of singed logs by the tree stump. I swallowed and played with my fingers, not at all enjoying the silence between us.
“I’m sorry about your wall.” I said quietly, “I was drunk and careless with a candle, and well… we’ll pay for the damages plus some, I can promise you that.”
“I suspect Lucy will.” Arby nodded, bringing the pipe to his mouth. I sighed, relieved that he didn’t question me further. Instead, he patted his pockets, turning this way and that, searching his clothing for something.
“You’re not a smoker, are ya, Miss Jules?” Arby asked. I shook my head, and he frowned, searching his pockets with a bit more fervency, almost a panic. He suddenly stopped, relaxing as though he’d found his tinder. He brought his empty fist to his pipe, struck his thumb into the air, and from its tip, a blue flame ignited. My jaw slackened, my heart jumped to my throat, and my hair stood on end. Arby smiled at me from green eyes, no longer centered in white, but rimmed entirely with orange, reflecting the sapphire embers of his lit pipe.
“W-w-w-w-what…” was all I managed to stammer, suddenly aware that I was burning my clothes off, my flesh alight with panic.
“Oh, I’m truly flattered at the offer,” Arby laughed at my nakedness, undeterred by my fire, “but I try not to sleep with my descendants; though it appears that only makes one of us.”
“W-w-w-what?!” I gasped, stepping backward, smoke rising from the ashes beneath my feet, “Arbitrus Gen?!”
“Arby will do fine for ya, Julia Gendian,” the ancient Heat Bringer smiled, walking toward me, “Arbitrus seems too formal, especially for family.”
I stood with mouth agape, processing the new information in a sluggish, panicked mind. Arbitrus stared expectantly back, seeming to enjoy my reaction immensely.
“Are you a Sentient?” My voice barely gaining purchase in my throat. Arbitrus laughed and gestured to his clothing and the pipe in his hand, making me feel slightly stupid, but putting me slightly at ease.
“How then?” I asked.
“Well,” Arbitrus said, easing himself onto a boulder, “there’s another like me, I think you might’ve known her. Redhead? Sparkling skin? Purple and gold eyes? Pair of antlers? Looks a lot like Diamond?”
“Passion.” I muttered.
“Ray Dawnbark’s sister, Silvia, if I remember correctly.” Arbitrus nodded, “She was a nymph matriarch, a caretaker of the woodlands, attuned to nature in ways most couldn’t imagine. Ray needed a lifeforce to preserve Arbortus, and Silvia was more than happy to live in a fucking tree for eternity, so he tethered her to the great forest he’d built. I’m a fiery guy with an explosive personality, so naturally, Trenok tethered me to the sun. You need something big for tethering to work, I guess.”
“Why?” I asked, the flame dimming from my flesh as the shock dwindled.
“The hell if I know,” Arbitrus shrugged, “Trenok said something about the cosmic energy of creation, how making new life is in line with the universe’s natural entropy, but prolonging it indefinitely goes against the foundation of-”
“I mean why were you preserved?” I interrupted.
“Well,” Arbitrus grunted, easing himself onto a boulder, “that’s a bit of a story, if you’ll indulge an old man.”
Arbitrus motioned for me to sit, and I cautiously let my flame die, and perched beside him on the boulder.
“Did you know that the ancients only recognized two Creators?” Arbitrus prompted, his colloquial accent conspicuously gone, “It wasn’t until Hektin discovered that heat, iron and coal make steel, that the Heat Bringer was included with the others. Even then, Hektin’s great achievement, the steel city of Hektinar, was mostly the doing of the Earth Former of his time, Gratora; Hektin simply melted rocks for her. The Heat Bringer’s true legacy is not what is left behind, but what is no longer there. What do you think the ancients call the Heat Bringer?”
“The Destroyer.” I whispered. Arbitrus nodded.
“The melting of Hektinar,” I said quietly, “it wasn’t in retaliation for Drokin’s Pass, was it?”
“No, it was not.”
“Why did you do it?”
“The orc empire had been blessed with four of the past six Creators; Trenok, Droktin, Gratora and Hektin. It had become too powerful, too influential, and the center of its power was Hektinar, so I…” Arbitrus snapped his fingers and a spark popped from his thumb and forefinger, “made the correction. We are nature’s correction, Julia. Unbridled creation leads inexorably to unbridled destruction, so a caretaker is needed to keep creation in check, like a cleaning forest fire that burns away the old canopy to make room for new growth.”
“But you helped make Droktinar; you were a true Creator once!” I hissed. I’d read this man’s journal, believed him to be righteous and true, believed his path to be one worthy of following. Arbitrus Gen was one of history’s great men, one of history’s great lies, one of history’s great monsters, and my ancestor. My blood.
“Droktin made Droktinar,” Arbitrus shrugged, “it was his life’s work, but I never lit the furnace, and I never planned to.”
“But I will,” I hissed, “I’ll make the fucking correction.”
“And I can’t stop you,” Arbitrus smiled, “you’re the Heat Bringer now, Julia. I can do little more than light my pipe and start my stove.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said through gritted teeth, “why did Trenok preserve you?”
“I told you that unbridled creation leads to unbridled destruction,” Arbitrus said, annoyingly taking his time to get to the answers I wanted, “and there is no greater destruction than unbridled life. Trenok tried to preserve his brother’s life, but Trenok could not tether him. Halok’s life had been that of a warrior, its purpose to bring death to others, and the Life Giver could not tether life to death.”
Arbitrus stopped and scratched his chin, seeming to ponder the distant skyline.
“Trenok didn’t speak to me for decades after Hektinar. It was only toward the end of his life, when he realized he could not salvage what he’d done to Halok, that he came to me. He wanted to destroy what he’d created before it could turn Sentient, and since I was The Destroyer, it appeared I was just the man for the job. Trenok believed that if he tethered me, created a hybrid of ethereal and physical out of me, that I could venture to the astral plane, and kill Halok where he slumbered. I agreed, drank poison, and was preserved.”
“Why didn’t it work?”
“The tethering allowed me to traverse the astral plane, but death stripped me of my powers. I could find Halok, but I could do nothing to him. After Trenok passed away, Halok’s unbound spirit degraded until it became Wrath.”
“Then Droktin started the war.” I said. Arbitrus nodded gravely.
“Without Trenok to dissuade him, or me to fight him, Droktin had free-reign to exact his revenge for Hektinar. The Gratoran Wall was opened, and Wrath infected the hordes that charged through it, driving them insane with battle rage, making them fight even after they’d been dismembered and disemboweled. Millions of dead, because of unbridled creation, because of unchecked life. Do you still think me the monster, dearest descendent?”
“Of course,” I hissed, “the war would never have happened if you hadn’t melted Hektinar!”
“Yes, it would have,” Arbitrus countered, “maybe a hundred years later, maybe a thousand, but it would have happened. The orc empire was too powerful to be limited by its borders, and it would have spread across the world with no one strong enough to stop it. You will have to develop the foresight to make these decisions, Julia. They are hard, sometimes they are cruel, but I see in you, the same-”
“We are nothing alike!” I snapped, flames playing beneath my flesh, “We share blood, and that is it!”
“I think we’re more alike than that.” Arbitrus smiled sadly.
“You’re a psychopath, a murderer, a-”
“I wonder what Passion would have to say about that,” Arbitrus grinned, “or maybe your parents?”
Flame leaped from my flesh, burning exhilarating energy from every nerve, my eyes blinded with red rage, my head pulsing with murder. The boulder beneath me grew soft, the rock turning molten, running from its crystalline form and hissing in the grass. Arbitrus just stared back, his grin broadening to a manic curl, his orange eyes shining, reflecting my image.
“I remember that feeling,” he said in hushed voice, almost reverently, “the energy surging through me, the flame raging from my flesh, scorching the world in searing sheets of heat. God, I miss it; killing like that… it makes you feel like a god.”
“Yes.” I whispered, my breath barely coming from me. I saw the manic sparkle in Arbitrus’s eyes, and I saw the same gleam in my own, reflected from his sclera. He understood me, understood me completely.
“But once the pleasures of death have left you, and the flame has dwindled, there’s a void, isn’t there?” Arbitrus asked, “A hole that can never be filled. The weak soul mistakes the hole for a rise, and digs deeper, thinking they’re climbing a mountain, but digging, and digging, until their entire being is not but the vacancy they’ve made of it. That was me, once. I thought I was strong because I could kill, and only through The Holy Mother, did I realize what a weak man I’d become. You are not weak, Julia; you know the price of murder.”
“Could I even kill you?” I asked, flames beginning the quell.
“Only you can,” Arbitrus grinned again, “as Passion well-knew. It was why she wanted you, why she loved you. You are The Destroyer, Julia; the killer of all things. It wasn’t your fire in her woods, nor your fire on her flesh that killed Passion. It was your fire in her soul.”
“How do you know about her… about what I did to her?”
“I am tethered, as she was,” Arbitrus explained, “I can see all the creatures that touch the astral plane. Not just astral beings or Sentients, but those with one foot in both worlds, like Passion, like me. Like Diamond.”
“What?!” the flame on my flesh died, skin growing suddenly cold.
“Your daughter carries a little bit of her mother with her. Only time will tell how that will manifest itself, or if it will at all, but it is there. Passion is dead as dead can be, but some piece of her still lives.” Arbitrus dared a hand on my shoulder, “I hope there is comfort in that.”
“A little, maybe.” I muttered at the ground. The songbirds were chirping noisily now, singing the praises of the sun as it revealed itself, casting rays across the golden fields, creating auras of dawn about the towers in the distance.
“I never wanted you to know me.” Arbitrus said, breaking the silence, “I never wanted you to be burdened with my existence. I wanted you to forge your own path, to make your own mistakes, to celebrate your own triumphs. I fear that your knowledge of me might create a… crutch that hampers your development. You may think that this meeting was by design, but it was by chance. Through the part of Diamond that resides in the astral plane, I saw you coming from Arbortus, but I did not put myself in your way. I’m not here for you.”
“Then why did you reveal yourself to me?” I asked, “Why not just continue to play the fool, like yesterday?”
“Because I know you’re looking for the Life Giver,” Arbitrus said, “and he is why I am here.”
“The Life Giver is here?!” I practically yelled.
“He was. He’s gone to Drastin now with Tera.”
“The Sorenson boy?” I asked, “He’s the Life Giver? Why didn’t you save him?!”
“Succubi have no power over Creators, so Brandon went on his own accord.” Arbitrus said, “I thought about going after just to keep tabs on him, until I realized who Tera worked for. Then, I didn’t dare.”
“Night Eyes?” I asked, “The gangster? Who cares about her?”
“The gangster.” Arbitrus scoffed, “Night Eyes is a gangster like an axe wound is a papercut. She’s not quite an anarchist, though random destruction is in her repertoire. She’s like a demented toddler who thinks the world is her toy, and she does with it as she pleases. Her brand of evil, and the power with which she enacts it, are not natural.”
Arbitrus reached into the large pocket of his overalls, and produced a copy of the magazine Lucilla had shown me yesterday. He tossed it on my lap, and I turned the page to the article about Astrid, featuring a sneering portrait of Night Eyes in the corner. An odd prickling crawled slowly up my spine as I ran my hand over the nymph’s picture, Does she look vaguely familiar?
“Seventeen years ago, I saw something that terrified me.” Arbitrus said, his voice wavering, “I walked through the ethereal realm of the most ancient one, and found that it was empty. She had awoken from her slumber, and escaped the astral plane.”
“Corruption?” I whispered. Arbitrus nodded, and I turned my attention back to the picture. “But black eyes don’t mean anything,” I insisted, “a cosmetic astral meld can turn anyone’s eyes any color. You don’t know that-”
“I know.” Arbitrus said solemnly, “I traveled to Drastin when news of this Night Eyes reached my ears. I found her in her brothel, and I saw the beast beneath with my own eyes. It smiled at me, and I ran. I ran as far as my legs could carry me.”
“Good Mother,” I whispered, “Astrid, this ‘Angel’ girl, she’s my friend’s daughter! She and Flora went to Drastin ahead of us, they’re-”
“Dead.” Arbitrus interrupted, “Or wishing they were. Or maybe Night Eyes invited them to dinner? No one knows what she’ll do. You’d have better luck predicting the fall of a thousand dice, then guessing her actions. It’s the nature of the beast inside her.”
Arbitrus leaned toward me until I could feel his breath on my cheek, his eyes boring a hole into the side of my head. “But Corruption made a grave mistake, Julia; she returned to the world when The Destroyer walked its surface.”
There was pregnant silence between us where the unspoken words lingered, hovering over us like a black cloud. I prayed that Freydis and Flora were safe, but the realistic side of me knew they weren’t. The pictures of Astrid were drawn across the paper in my lap, of her in chains and ropes, suffering the degradations of a twisted mind, a corrupted mind. The Life Giver, my only hope for redemption, was under the mercy of that corruption. Could I murder with premeditation? Could I become the dispassionate destroyer, the brutal corrector? Was this the path of righteousness? Did I have a choice?
“I’ll do it,” I barely whispered, “I’ll kill Night Eyes.”
The smell of last night’s sex wafted into my nose as the dawn light shined into my eye. I took a deep inhale, and smiled. Bodies pressed all around me, warm and expanding with breath, the smooth flesh of five hues sprawled on an oversized bed. Brandon’s body encased Willowbud’s; pale muscle spooning caramel softness, dirty blonde hair tangling with stark white. I laid in my nightly nest of Astrid and Mom, nestled between their naked curves, resting my head between Astrid’s pillowing breasts as her wings blanketed us. It felt like a family; Mom being my mom, of course, and Willowbud was already my cousin, but Astrid was like a protective older sister to me, and Brandon, my aloof brother. The only person missing, was the one I’d been closest to; the one who used to live in my head.
Once Willowbud learned what Angela was, she could see the Life Giver’s ethereal sister through Corruption’s eyes, and it was not a sight she could bear. To Willowbud, Angela represented her only competition for Brandon, so, in exchange for my freedom, Brandon had tearfully exiled Angela from our makeshift family. It was like a part of me had been ripped out. My head felt quiet, my musings went unanswered, my soul was missing some crucial piece. Angela and I had shared every thought, emotion and sensation from two perspectives. It had been more than intimacy; it had been coexistence, and now that she was gone, I felt hollow. My mind had been freed, but it also had been emptied.
Since I was liberated, Mom and I had no reason to stay with Willowbud, but we didn’t leave. We had a litany of excuses as to why; our duty to Brandon, helping Astrid with her (now almost totally forgotten) mission to rescue Willowbud from Corruption, and Mom’s blossoming fighting career, but we both knew the real reason we stayed. The sex was too good. No one fucked quite like a god, and here were two of them residing in the busiest brothel of the largest city in the world; it was like succubus heaven, so what were we to do? We just ignored the devil that lurked within Willowbud’s mind, hoping that the silent sixth member of our family would remain sedated with Brandon’s affection.
“Willowbud,” Brandon’s voice whispered, his eyes still closed, “are you awake?”
“I can tell you are.” Willowbud smiled sleepily, shimmying her hips into her lover’s crotch.
“Do you have to?” she groaned, trying to dissuade Brandon by grinding her ass deeper.
“You can come with if you want.”
“I liked that cunt better when there was a hole in her chest.” Willowbud grumbled, “When you reach a similar sentiment, I’ll gladly come along, and we’ll make a date of it.”
“I can only give the shared miracle of life, to take what has been bestowed-”
“Don’t start that shit again!” Willowbud growled as Brandon chuckled, “Fuck the Creator’s Codes, and fuck Gloria for teaching them to you! You and Astrid should run along to Iona where they paddle your ass for using the wrong fork, then see how a life codes suits you.”
“You don’t need an excuse to paddle my ass, Mistress.” Astrid groaned sleepily, rolling on her back and revealing a body I wouldn’t have recognized two weeks ago. Her braided, blonde hair was shorn near to the scalp on the sides, her nipples and labia were pierced, and her skin was a canvas of dark ink. She had protested greatly over the first tattoo, the one written across her lower back that read, ‘Mistress’s Entrance’ with an arrow pointing downward. The other twenty, she’d gotten on her own. It seemed that once Astrid broke an oath (or was forced to), she went full-bore, and now she was covered from foot to chin in a display of artistry that contoured to her every curve, leaving only her face, breasts and butt bare. Her physical metamorphosis reflected her spiritual change, which had been like watching an angel fall. It was a privilege to witness her descent.
“I’ll tell you what,” Brandon purred into his girlfriend’s ear, pulling her white hair behind an ivory, ram-like horn, “if you let me in back here, I’ll skip today’s lesson.”
“Hmm, tempting,” Willowbud smiled impishly, her green irises cornering her black sclera, “but no. That deal stands as it is. You only get to fuck my ass, if I get to fuck yours.”
“Are you sure you want to go down that path?” Brandon chuckled, “What if it awakens something in me? What if I realize that I’ve been batting from the wrong side of the plate this whole time?”
“It’s a feminine penis.”
“That’s an oxymoron.”
“You’re an oxymoron.”
“I didn’t know I was dating a fourth grader.” Brandon smiled, connecting eyes with Willowbud as she craned her neck. He sighed, worked his jaw a little, and then said, “Fine, but it never leaves this room.”
“You serious?” Willowbud asked, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah.” Brandon grinned. Their lips connected and opened, tongues wrapping and eyes closing. They parted with mutual lust in their gaze, a string of saliva glinting between them.
“After class, meet me at the spa.” Willowbud whispered, drawing a finger through their oral bridge.
“To get our assholes bleached, of course! We’re not barbarians, are we?”
It felt like I was walking a tightrope with the world on my back. Did I like Willowbud? Yeah, I liked her; hell, I really liked her, but was I in love with her? Maaaaaaybe…? I didn’t know what ‘being in love’ even was, but I did know that if I didn’t keep the Sentient-melded Earth Former happy, all hell would break loose.
I looked over my shoulder as I unlocked Gloria’s door, and then slammed it shut the moment I entered. Gloria had been gone for two weeks. The moment she heard that Willowbud knew she was alive, the ancient vampire packed her shit, and left. Through a torrent of departing comments like, ‘you fucking dumbass,’ and ‘your dick is not a life coach,’ I managed to convince Gloria to give me her housekeys so that I could use her home during her absence, and do the things my girlfriend could never know about. Where I could perform what the Earth Former might consider infidelity.
“Brandon?” Angela asked, floating from the corner of the room. I felt butterflies every time I saw her now, and I swore they only got worse each time I did.
“Hey, Angela,” I smiled, locking the door behind me, “are you doing alright?”
“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” Angela snorted, “I’m stuck inside an empty house with only spiders and that fucking fox to keep my company.”
“His name is Red Rocket, and he is an absolute delight.” I grinned back at her as I reached into my coat pocket, and pulled out a pound of bacon for the fox.
“Well, he isn’t much for conversation,” Angela huffed, “and I’m a natural extrovert, Brandon; I need the social life to keep my edge.”
“I don’t know what that even means,” I chuckled, “and somehow, I don’t think you do either.”
I walked to the back of Gloria’s room, and sifted through a pile of heavy boxes until I found what I was looking for. I grunted as I pulled the coffin from behind the litter, and dragged the unwieldy box to the center of the room. This thing was getting heavier by the day.
“When’s Gloria coming back?” Angela asked, “I don’t care if she can’t see or hear me, just having a person here would make all the difference.”
“Gloria’s going to be gone for a while.” I grimaced.
“Does Justina ask about me?” Angela asked, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“All the time,” I said, thumbing the combination lock, “but I can’t tell her anything, Angela, for her own sake. If I told them, and Willowbud found out they knew…”
The mechanism clicked into place, and I opened the coffin lid. Creating plants and animals was easy for me, but an actual person was an entirely different story. I thought I could think Angela’s body into existence like anything else, but it was not the case. I’d been making her piece by piece for two weeks, stealing what little time I could without making Willowbud suspicious. As of now, the project was an absolute horror-show, but I was making steady progress. Today, we started on the digestive system.
“You know what I miss the most about having a body?” Angela said as I began my work on the esophageal tube.
“Taking a huge shit,” Angela replied wistfully, “just sitting down, feeling the porcelain on your ass, and letting loose. The pressure blowing out your sphincter, the oddly-satisfying smell of your own refuse, the decompression in your gut as you-”
“Stop!” I yelled, holding up a hand, “Just, stop. Please.”
“I was just trying to get you in the right mindset,” Angela sniggered, “you will be making me a new butthole today.”
“And if you want to keep your new butthole, it’ll have to be appealing enough for me to want to lick it.”
“Would you really do that for me?” Angela asked, batting her eyelashes with sarcastic adoration.
“Yes, Angela,” I smiled at her, “when this is all done, I am going to eat the absolute shit out of your butthole.”
“You wanna… you wanna rephrase that one?” Angela giggled, covering face.
I leaned forward, levelling my eyes with hers until our irises were inches apart. I gave her the most exaggerated expression of lechery I could muster, licked my lips, and whispered, “No.”
Angela burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, and I chuckled along with her as I got back to work. When I told her what we’d have to do to bind her new body, I’d expected her to be as averse to the idea as I’d been at first. She was not. I guessed years of catching me masturbating had warped her sexuality; either that, or she’d been spending way too much time inside the mind of a succubus. Now that she was out of Justina, Angela showed no signs of sexual interest, nor sexual maturity. Maybe it was because she’d never done the acts herself, and didn’t understand the ramifications of them. She didn’t know what it meant to physically want someone, and I didn’t know what it meant to be in love, but what we shared was something few people did. We’d been with each other since the beginning, after all, even before birth, and no bond is stronger than the one formed in the womb.
I waited until Willowbud was gone before I made my move. I shuffled quietly down the stairs, listening carefully as I cringed with each creaking footfall. The soft moans of Justina’s morning masturbation alerted me to her whereabouts, but it didn’t sound like Astrid had joined her yet. I took another cautious step, narrowing my eyes, trying to figure out where the Valkyrie was.
“Where are you off to?” her voice said from beside me. I jolted with a yelp, undoubtedly looking as guilty as could be.
“Breakfast!” I practically yelled, and then added before Astrid could inquire further, “where did Willowbud go?”
Astrid shrugged, “Mistress said she needed to make preparations for the championship fight,” then narrowed her eyes, “which we are supposed to be promoting in three hours.”
“And I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I flashed a dazzling smile, “I’ll only be gone for an hour.”
Astrid looked expectantly at me. The two of us had become more than friends over the past month, and she was undoubtedly wondering why she wasn’t invited for breakfast.
“Do you want to come? It’s a new vegan restaurant on-”
“No, thank you.” Astrid scoffed, walking away and muttering to herself. I knew that would work. I dawned a coat, unhappy with the amount of flesh I was forced to conceal, and made my way onto the brothel district’s busy streets. I took two lefts and a right, jumped the compound wall, and was at my old safehouse. I hadn’t used the thing for century, and it was in rough shape to say the least, but it worked in a pinch, and my dearest twin sister and her Valkyrie friend had put me in quite the fucking pinch last night. I unlocked the door, and slammed it behind me.
“Master?” two lustful voices cooed hopefully from the darkness. I pulled a rope, and the sunroof light illuminated my slaves. Though she looked to be barely past her teens, Flora’s tight skin had greened with the centuries, her ram-like horns had overgrown, and her once-platinum hair was now a deep turquois. She was ancient, as ancient as I was, anyway, but retained the girlish features she’d passed on to her daughter; full cheeks dotted with dimples, full lips outlining a small mouth, and eyes almost too big for her face. She wriggled in her binds, arms tied behind her back, feet shackled to the floor, trying to get my attention with hope in her now-violet eyes. I turned that attention to my other captive.
Now that I had a good look at her, Flora’s companion was instantly recognizable. That woman couldn’t be anyone but Freydis Skyborne, High Guard of Iona, and Astrid’s mother. She was arching her back from the wall, her hands clasped in shackles above her head, her tongue running over needy lips as she eye-fucked me with my violet irises. I had just barely gotten a hold of her before she barged through the front door of The Screeching Siren, and the bruise that smarted from my ribs was a reminder of how much power she had behind her punch. Had I not been on the porch last night, and smelled Flora’s familiar scent before the two arrived, god only knows what would’ve happened. I had a good idea of why both women were here, but I needed details. I knelt before my possessed twin sister.
“I always wanted you, Master, ever since I could feel such things.” Flora confessed, writhing in her binds, “If they hadn’t exiled you when we were fourteen, I might’ve fallen to the temptation. We’re old women now though, and the shames of youth don’t bind us. Lie with me, sister; let me see how far I can slide my tongue up your… oh.”
Flora’s eyes returned to their forest green, but her cheeks turned to a deep red. I might’ve explored that tangent a bit further, but I had more pressing concerns.
“Flora, just what in the fuck are you doing here?” I growled.
“I’m here for my daughter!” Flora snarled, “When, pray-tell, were you planning on telling me that she was alive?!”
“Around the same time that you told me she was a fucking god.” I shot back, “Or maybe about the little friend that lives in her head?”
“What are you talking about?” Flora snapped.
“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” I seethed, “You knew, didn’t you? Willowbud thinks you kicked her out of Arbortus because of her mutation, but it was because Passion told you about Corruption, wasn’t it?”
Flora stared back, that old sibling hatred brimming behind her eyes. Five centuries of separation, and we were at each other’s throats once again, like nothing had changed since we were preteens. We’d been with each other since the beginning, after all, even before birth, and no hatred is stronger than the one formed in the womb.
“Yes,” she finally said, “I did what I had to. Passion gave me three days to exile her, or she’d tell the other matriarchs. They would have killed her, Tera.” Flora sniffled, her eyes glistening, “I know I wasn’t a good mother to her, but I tried to do what was best. When I heard her ship had been lost, it was like my whole future had been lost with it. Then Elmsun went after her and he wound up dead, and now…” Flora looked up at me, desperation on her face, “Tera, she’s alive! My daughter is alive! You have to let me see her!”
“Flora,” I sighed, “you can’t see Willowbud, because there is no ‘Willowbud.’ It’s just Night Eyes now.”
“She’s not too far gone,” Flora insisted fervently, “if you take me to her, I can-”
“Corruption doesn’t have her wholly!” Flora struggled against the binds, “I can still save her! If you just-”
“She’ll kill you.” I said coldly, “She’ll kill you badly, Flora. She’ll make it slow, and she’ll make me watch, because that’s who your daughter is now. She’s gone.”
Flora stopped struggling, her eyes leveling with mine. The horror began to creep into her face, the realization, the implications of what it meant, but then it vanished, and the denial replaced it, and the familiar hatred scuttled soon after.
“You lie!” Flora hissed, “You always were a liar, Death Kiss! What, did you think we wouldn’t find out about you? Did you think you could hide your-”
“I didn’t care.” I replied, voice still cold, “Once I was exiled, that was that. I buried Arbortus and all memory of friends, family, and home, and I started again, because what else could I do, but what I had to? You mean nothing to me, Flora, so don’t think for a second that I’ll lie to you; you’re not worth the effort. Now, why are you traveling with Freydis Skyborne?”
Flora glared back at me, pine-green eyes narrowing in contempt. I smirked, and ran single finger along her cheek, poking the cute dimple at its center.
“If I have to enslave you to get my answers, I’ll do things to you, sister.” I whispered, running my hand down her neck, down her arm, between her legs, “of course,” I smiled into her changing eyes, “if that’s what you want…”
“We were traveling with the Heat Bringer!” Flora gasped, her eyes fading back to green, her thighs grinding together about my hand, my fingertips warm from the heat radiating from her lust. I stopped, processing the information, searching Flora’s face for deception.
“Bullshit.” I growled, and pushed my fingers inside. I felt her soft, wet heat give way to me, I felt her petals open for me, dripping their nectar onto my palm as I turned it upright and curled my digits. Flora’s back straightened, her legs tensed, her petite breasts shot forward as she growled her reluctant pleasure. She fought me though, fought me admirably. Her eyes flashed different colors, but never settled on one.
“I’m telling you the truth!” Flora cried, unable to stop the moan from seeping through her words. Her face was flushed now, sweat glistening from her green canvas, neck striated with tension as her aqua lips peeled to reveal gritted teeth, “I used Astrid’s plight to make Freydis abandon our retinue! I knew I had to get to Drastin before Sister Julia did!”
“Why?” My fingers pressed against the ribbed spot within her, grinding mercilessly as the thumb danced expertly over her clit, engorging the feminine organ to a red bead. Flora began bucking her hips, seeming to throw a tantrum in her lust, unable to cope with the pleasure that was taking her, that was coercing words she didn’t want to speak.
“I’ll only tell Willowbud!” Flora screamed, “You won’t get a word from me, you slut!”
“Oh, I will, sister.” I hissed, my snake’s tongue slithering from my lips, “Your tongue was always meant for talk, after all; that’s why they made you a matriarch. Do you want to see what my tongue can do? I know you’re curious; I can feel just how curious you are down here.”
I dipped my face into Flora’s crotch, parting her trembling legs with my withdrawing hand. My upper lip wrapped around her clit as my tongue pushed through her flushed labia, tasting the oozing need that wetted her. She was delicious. Flora’s voice sung above me as she thrashed and squealed, her legs locking together around my head, trying to decapitate me in her passion. Back and forth, back and forth; my tongue ran the length of her ceiling, long enough to touch her cervix before coming back to her ribbed button, and pressing, prodding, flicking, finding the combination that would unlock her. My sullied fingers trialed down my sister’s taint, still wet with her secretion, and found her sinful aperture. Flora screamed her objection, and I penetrated her with two fingers, causing her head to fling back, causing her pelvis to shoot forward, her body betraying her, gratefully dancing for my vile favor. In and out, in and out. I exited her anus with each pull, and then pressed my fingertips to her twitching rim, and pushed in again, making her feel the penetration over and over, overloading the nerves that sealed her exit. My tongue tasted her surrender, my lips kissed her defeat. She shuddered, bucked her hips, screamed, and came. She came in a rectum-convulsing, pussy-spasming torrent of release that flooded my mouth with her gratitude, and trapped my fingers in her coiling embrace. She exalted like I’d just shown her heaven, and I wondered how long it had been since Flora had last felt release. Judging by the violence of her reaction, I’d say it must have been years.
“Truth be told, sister,” I said, greedily lapping what had sprayed from her, “I’d always wanted you too. Now, where were we?”
“You were asking me about Sister Julia, Master.” Flora said, her voice dripping with thanks, her eyes my violet, “You wanted to know why I wanted to get here first.”
“Go on.” I said, sucking her ass off my fingers.
“Sister Julia is a devil clothed in piety,” Flora said, “a murderer, a deceiver, and an agent of the emperor.”
“Agent of the emperor?” I asked incredulously, “Didn’t she kill his daughter?”
“She bound with his daughter!” Flora smiled, beckoning me to touch her more, “The emperor spun his lies, and the matriarchs wanted to believe them so badly, that we willingly trapped ourselves in his web. We let our guard down, and the Heat Bringer passed through our borders unmolested. She seduced Passion, mated with her, and once Passion had provided an offspring that could survive outside the womb, Julia killed her.”
“Now she uses this offspring as a compass,” Flora whispered, “she comes to Drastin to find the Life Giver! She says she wants the Life Giver’s help to replace Passion’s womb, but I know she just wants to kill him to doom Arbortus to decay. That is why I came in such urgency; Willowbud might be the only one who can stop her! Did I answer your questions? Will you fuck me now?”
“Shit,” I hissed, my heart pounding, “Shit, shit, shit!”
I left my sister whining for me on the floor, and raced up to my room. My wise niece had banned astral communicators from the household, so I had no way of calling for immediate help. Instead, I scratched-out a letter addressed from Gloria, tied it to a pigeon’s leg, and sent it flying, hoping it would find Willowbud in time. If Willowbud thought I’d gotten this information, she’d be suspicious, but if it came from Gloria, she wouldn’t bother questioning it. I just had to get to the old vampire before Willowbud came knocking, or god forbid, Sister Julia.
Brandon thought it was strange that I didn’t even blink when the truth about me was revealed. When you’re dead, it doesn’t really matter what kind of dead you are. I was an infantile Sentient, and I would grow to a full Sentient if Brandon didn’t bind with me before he died; it seemed to me like there wasn’t much in the way of options, so why complain about what you can’t change? The idea of having sex with my twin didn’t bother me as much as it probably should have, but sex was an abstract concept without a body. The only time I’d felt lust was when I was shared Justina’s, and Justina didn’t care who she fucked. I’d never felt my own physical attraction, but I knew I loved my brother, and I knew I could learn to want him. He obviously wanted me.
“Well?” I giggled, bent over before Brandon, my ethereal dress hiked over my nonexistent hips, my hands spreading glutes that didn’t exist, “Do you have it yet?”
“Not quite,” Brandon said, his voice heavy in his chest, his eyes staring fixedly at me as he did his work, “do you think you can spread a little wider?”
“Like this?” I giggled again, thinking this was the funniest fucking thing in the world. I couldn’t feel my own touch, so I had no idea if I was spreading myself gaping, or tearing myself in half.
“Could you…” Brandon started, then shook his head, and went back to work.
“Could I…?” I prompted with a knowing grin, “feeling frisky again, dearest brother?”
“Yes.” Brandon said, giving me a bashful smile. This happened every time I modeled for him, so I was prepared. I’d even practiced at nights, when I was alone with nothing else to do. I painted on (what I hoped was) a lustful smile, slid one hand between my legs, and the other between my cheeks. I couldn’t feel if my fingers were penetrating me, but diligent practice in the mirror had allowed me to zero-in on the holes and simulate masturbation, without having my hands simply pass through my pelvis. By the look on Brandon’s face, I guessed I’d gotten it right in this time. He bit his lip, unzipped his fly, and pulled out his engorged manhood. I gave it a leering glare, as I knew he’d want, and then started moaning, hoping it sounded realistic enough. The first day we tried this, I definitely went overboard, and Brandon had cringed back as I started screaming like a banshee. I toned it down a little, and now moaned in almost the same tenor as a sob, with a slight inflection to keep it needful. Brandon started relieving himself, and I began moving my hands a little faster, daring to push them a little deeper, hoping that I wasn’t currently fist-fucking my own hip bone. Brandon’s hand accelerated along his length, his eyes staring ravenously at me as I spread my legs and arched my back, bit my lip and drooped my eyes. His panting grew audible, the exertion of his pleasure became obvious, the concentrative gaze in his eyes grew to avarice. I escalated my tones, crying out for him like I knew he liked, sounding pathetic, vulnerable soprano notes that drove him crazy. His panting became grunting, his hand jerked with fervency, his hips began to thrust, and he came. I grinned; I had something new for Brandon today. I dashed over to him, opened my smiling mouth, and held out my tongue as his semen splashed through my face. The smile on Brandon’s face made all the practice worth it. When Brandon was finished, he petted my hair affectionately, running his hand carefully through the air where my head should be. This was my favorite part of the charade, when he looked at me like that. I couldn’t feel the desires he felt, but I could certainly share in his love.
A loud knock on the door broke us from the moment, and we exchanged an alarmed look. No one should be knocking on Gloria’s door.
“Should I see who it is?” I asked nervously.
“No,” Brandon frowned, stuffing his cock back into his pants, “if it’s Willowbud, and she sees you, I’m fucked, and not in the good way.”
The knock sounded again.
“Maybe we should just pretend we’re not here?” I whispered. Brandon nodded. He slowly, quietly, closed the coffin lid, and thumbed the combination. There was a silence outside, and then another knock, this one louder than before.
“Stop, Diamond,” a female voice sighed, “knocking louder isn’t going to make them come sooner. They’re probably not home.”
“Well then, what are we supposed to do?” Diamond asked, “Just loiter outside for a few hours?”
“I guess,” the other voice said, sounding exhausted, “maybe they’ll show up, if they still even live here.”
“How do we know this ‘Gloria’ isn’t working with Night Eyes?” another voice, this one sounded oddly snobbish, like how I’d imagine a countess talked.
“Arbitrus told me he knew her, and that she could be trusted.” The tired voice replied.
“That’s a relief,” snobby voice laughed, “we’ll just trust the word of a crazy old man who spends his waking hours drunk, and his sleeping hours in a ghost world. Hey Sparkles, what do you got there?”
“Nothing.” Diamond said guiltily.
“Let me see it.” The tired voice now, “Diamond, where did you get this?”
“They were just sitting in a row on the street, so I… kind of just… you know… grabbed it.”
“You stole it?!”
“I didn’t know it was stealing until the man started running after me, and then it was too late!”
“You little klepto bitch!” snobby voice giggled, “I’ll have to punish you for this, you know that?”
“Why did you take this, Diamond?”
“I wanted to get Brandon a present,” Diamond said, sounding very sorry, “I thought he might like it, but I don’t know what boys my age like to play with.”
“Sure, you do.” snobby voice sniggered. Diamond moaned through a giggle, then there was a loud slap, and a yelp from snobby voice.
“Ow, you bitch!”
“Can you keep your hands out of my daughter’s pants for five minutes, Lucilla?!”
“Oh, look who’s talking!” Lucilla scoffed, “Was I supposed to believe that bathroom break lasted ten minutes because they ran out of toilet paper? Unlike Sparkles here, I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Actually, I was a born a week ago-”
“I’m sorry you weren’t included, but there simply wasn’t enough room in the stall for three of us,” tired voice explained, “and I’d like to point out, just for the record because I know you’ll bring this up later, that was during an agreed-upon rest period, and did not affect our travel time.”
“We had this talk, Julia!” Lucilla growled, “We’re a tricycle; there is no third wheel! If you just told me that you wanted a quickie with your daughter, I would’ve been-”
“There’s a girl staring at us through the door.” Diamond said, interrupting the quarrelling lovers. I froze, only my eyes moving as they slowly tracked to Brandon, whose jaw was practically unhinged, his own eyes almost falling from his sockets.
“Arbitrus said there was some of Passion left in her.” Julia whispered, “Diamond, what can you see?”
“Hi!” Diamond’s voice came brightly, directed right at me, “Are you a Sentient? You’re not Corruption, are you? Because then my mom would have to kill you. She’s the Heat brawah.”
Someone quickly stifled Diamond’s mouth with their palm, but it was too late. Brandon’s jaw was defying the laws of human anatomy, his face pale, his whole body visibly shaking. Sister Julia Glendian, the Heat Bringer assassin, was at our doorstep.
“Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit.” I whispered, frantically looking for a weapon. Sister Julia Gendian killed a fucking princess as her first public act of divinity, and now she was knocking on my door. Not only that, but her daughter (who she was apparently fucking) could see Angela, which meant she was connected with Sentients somehow, and we definitely didn’t need any more of that shit.
“Life Giver?” Julia called from outside, “Are you in there?”
“Don’t answer!” Angela hissed.
“I got you a present!” Diamond called.
“The stories about me are lies,” Julia yelled, “I mean you no harm.”
“Just stay put!” Angela whispered to me, “I’ll get Willowbud to come help!”
“No!” I hissed back, “If you go to Willowbud, and she sees what we’ve been doing… I don’t want to think about it.”
“There’s a fucking deific assassin right outside!” Angela growled, “What’s the use in having a psychotic girlfriend if you can’t call on her for situations like this?”
“If Julia wanted to kill me,” I whispered, collecting myself, “she would’ve blown the door down by now.”
“You’re not seriously going to let her in, are you?” Angela whispered, face aghast.
“What choice do we have?”
“You can destroy the body,” Angela said sadly, “you can always make me another one.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head and walking toward the door, feeling my heart thundering in my chest, “I have a feeling that very soon, time is going to become a precious resource. Things are moving fast, Angela; it may take months for me to steal away enough hours to come as far as we have, and god only knows what will happen along the way.”
I actually hoped the Life Giver wasn’t home. A knot of anxiety was forming in my throat every time I called for him, accompanying a sense of foreboding that crept in the back of my mind. For better or worse, this meeting was a historical moment, and the gravity of it was tugging at me. I called again, and again, no one answered. I was about to resign myself to renting an inn, when the door creaked open, and a pair of blue eyes peered from the darkness.
“Sister Julia Gendian?” a man’s voice asked. That certainly wasn’t a vampire, so that meant this was…
“Hi, Brandon!” Diamond said to The Life Giver, “Did you make a Sentient? That’s not good. Anyway, here’s a toy soldier. Aunt Lucilla said you probably like playing with your penis more, but I hope you like it!”
I buried my face in my hands and prayed that a lightning bolt would kill me. The Life Giver stared dumbfoundedly at the half-breed nymph holding out a wooden soldier, a hopeful smile stretched across her lips. There was the sound of someone choking beside me, and then a sputtering cackle sung from Lucilla.
“Uh… thanks, I guess. Come in.” Brandon muttered, taking the toy, and opening the door.
There were two things I noticed right away. One, was that Julia, Lucilla and Diamond were all stone-cold foxes, and the other, was that two of them had dicks. Diamond didn’t seem to care if anyone saw it dangling against her sundress, but Julia tried to hide hers with a low inseam. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for her, Julia’s endowment was too pronounced to conceal. Her emerald irises caught me gawking, and her sparkling cheeks turned the color of her crimson hair. That was an interesting reaction from a cold-blooded murderer.
“Wow,” Diamond gasped, looking at the mural on the ceiling that depicted a blood orgy, “that is gross.”
“Be nice, Diamond,” Julia said tersely, giving me an apologetic look, “it’s rude to insult someone’s home when you’re a guest.”
“Sorry.” Diamond said, gawking at the red torches, the gothic pillars, and the coffin. Julia saw me looking inquisitively at her daughter, obviously noting the nonexistent age gap between them.
“It’s a long story,” Julia smiled, entwining her fingers nervously, “can we… um… sit down?”
“Of course,” I said, pulling boxes off the couch, “can I get you something to drink?”
“Wine, for God’s sake.” Lucilla said, exasperated, and obviously used to people doing what she said.
“Nothing alcoholic for me; I indulged too much last night.” Julia replied, her smile small and respectful, looking every-bit the nun she once was.
“I will also have some wine!” Diamond proclaimed, as if the statement was to be etched in stone.
“She will not.” Julia smiled again, giving her daughter a look of adoring annoyance.
I nodded, completely perplexed by the situation. Julia was nothing like the person depicted in the papers. If anything, she reminded me of my pious mother; a soft lecturer with a friendly disposition. Unfortunately for Julia, Gloria had two things in her pantry: wine, and jars of blood. I was sure Gloria longed for the day when alcoholism was her worst problem. I poured two glasses of water for the hermaphrodites, two generous glasses of wine for Lucilla and myself, and then sat across from them, Angela floating at my side.
“My name’s Diamond!” Diamond said with overt friendliness, holding out her hand to me. I shook it carefully, unsure of what to think of the odd nymph-elf.
“Hello, Diamond,” I said, “I’m Brandon Sorenson, the Life Giver, and this is my sister, Angela Sorenson; she’s not quite a Sentient.”
“Hello Angela, Brandon,” Julia smiled brightly, inclining her head to each of us, though she missed Angela’s location by about a foot, “I’m Julia Gendian, the Heat Bringer.”
“And I’m Princess Lucilla Flitari.” Lucilla said, which got an eyebrow raise from me, “I know, I know,” she waved, “I’m supposed to be dead.”
There was an uncomfortable silence between the four of us. Diamond grinned, seemingly unaffected by the awkwardness, Julia sipped her water, looking like she was regretting turning-down wine, Lucilla looked grateful to have made the right choice, Angela floated with shifting, nervous eyes, and I decided it was a good time to get a little drunk. I finished off my glass, poured another, finished that off, and waited for the liquid courage to make my lips form words.
“So, I’ve got about…” I said as I looked at my pocket watch, “one hour before me and The Earth Former are getting our assholes bleached, so let’s get talking.”
Three fountains sprayed from three sets of shocked lips, immediately accompanied by three pairs of widened eyes. I smiled; that was as good a way to start a conversation as any, I guessed.
My body was naked, pressed against cold stone, hidden in shadow. I slithered past the house’s corner, my knife grazing the stonework with a metallic song. I stopped, my breath catching, my ears listening. The steady flow of conversation continued without interruption, and my heart slowed back to its methodical crawl. It didn’t sound like Brandon was in immediate danger, but that hardly meant he was safe. An assassin’s best weapon is congeniality, as I well knew, and an innocent smile could be a better disarmer than dismemberment. I ducked beneath the window, and noiselessly hoisted myself onto the roof. I danced across the shingles, my feet padding silently, crouching to make sure I stayed below the roofline, out of sight. Gloria had built her house with well-earned paranoia, making it impossible to penetrate without great force or effort. I listened carefully to the conversation below me, triangulating exactly where each speaker was. I reached into the belt slung across my hip, and pulled out a clear flask. There was a wick stuck in its cork that extended into the stem, where a gaseous, green substance bubbled with obvious volatility. I marked my spot, pulled out a match, and lit the wick.
“…and then we came here.” I said, finishing my story. I’d done my fair share of shocked gasping and disbelieving goggling during his story, and now, it was Brandon’s turn to gawk. Our stories fit like pieces to a puzzle, except that our merging didn’t create a beautiful landscape, but a horrific abstraction.
“Holy shit, what a mess.” Brandon muttered.
“Yeah.” I relied dumbly.
“Well,” he grunted, “obviously I’m not going to help you if you kill my girlfriend, so scratch that off your list.”
“Yeah.” I replied again. Night Eyes was not only Willowbud Autumnsong, but the Earth Former. The realization made me numb, but I wasn’t sure it changed anything. Arbortus could wilt to nothing and that would be a tragedy, but a corrupted Earth Former would be a catastrophe. On the other hand, could I justifiably kill a Creator, just to kill Corruption?
“Do you think Freydis and Flora are alright?” Diamond asked beside me.
“I don’t know if they’re alright, but they certainly never came to The Screeching Siren.” Brandon said.
“What do you think happened to them?” Lucilla asked. I shrugged, and the world exploded.
My ears rang, debris pinged across my body, I was on my knees, then forced to my stomach. My head beat like a drum, there were hands grabbing for me, my vision was nothing but the blurred grout of a stone floor. Something struck me in the back, blasting the air from my lungs. It felt like I’d been punched, but then the pain came, and the cold feeling, the invasion of metal, and I knew I’d just been stabbed. I shrieked, the world clarifying with the sudden horror, the sound flying back to me in a whoosh. People were screaming, crying, metal ringing and furniture crashing. I was on fire now, blazing with barely any control, gritting my teeth to keep the pain from making me explode. I sucked in a ragged breath, and the pain was gone. I didn’t bother questioning the sudden change; I just climbed to my knees, and looked up.
I didn’t know where Diamond had gotten the sword, and I was even more confused about how she knew how to use it. She was a spinning fury of scarlet hair, moving with blinding speed, backing the assassin into a corner with expert strikes. The succubus parried desperately, moving with equal swiftness, but unequal ferocity. My daughter struck with brutal precision, each blow seemingly too strong to have come from her small frame, each clash ringing with a fury that sent the assassin’s defenses reeling. Diamond feigned right, dipped, elbowed the succubus in the ribs, and then caught her hand at the wrist, leaving the succubus wide open for Diamond’s incoming stab. Diamond stopped in her tracks. “Master,” she said, and the succubus grabbed her before I could react, turned her around, and held the knife against the back of her neck, where skull met spine.
“Brandon, get out of here!” the succubus yelled.
“Tera, what the fuck are you-”
Brandon stood stubbornly fast, his body radiating with blue light, the walls around him teaming with floral life of a thousand different colors. Lucilla was glowing like a jack-o-lantern with my power, staring dumbfoundedly at her hand as if she’d never seen it before.
“The bitch cut my fucking hand off!” she cried, “And it just… it just…”
“Brandon, get the fuck out!” Tera screamed again, hiding every part of her body behind my daughter. Diamond, for her part, seemed to be greatly enjoying being held hostage. She was pitching a tent that I could’ve hung a coat on, and grinding her thighs together with a needful moan.
“Tera, is it?” I said, stepping cautiously forward, “‘Death Kiss’ in The Pit, ‘mother’ to Justina, and ‘sister’ to Flora?”
“I’ll brain her, Julia.” Tera said, her voice as dead as her moniker, “One more step, and I’ll do something even Brandon can’t fix.”
“Why?” I asked, stopping where I was, leaving melted footprints in the rock beneath me.
“Flora told me what you are, what you really are.” Tera hissed.
“Flora’s a crazy old bitch!” Lucilla screamed, and I held a hand up to silence her.
“Tera,” Brandon said slowly, “put the knife down. Julia isn’t going to hurt Willowbud.”
“Willowbud?” Tera spat, “Brandon, Julia is here to kill you!”
“What?!” I yelled.
“She’s sure been taking her time about it.” Brandon said dryly.
“Julia likes to play with her food before she eats it, don’t you, Julia?” Tera sneered, licking the side of my daughter’s face with a long, forked tongue, “I know I do. Speaking of which, where’s Gloria?”
“Gone.” Brandon said simply, “She’s been gone for two weeks.”
“Then what the hell have you been…” Tera looked at the coffin, its cover broken-off in the chaos, Angela’s unfinished body displayed in gruesome detail, “…oh.”
“Tera,” I said with as much calmness as I could muster, “I’m going to count to three, and if you don’t let my daughter go by then, I will turn Brandon to an ash pile.”
“Wait, what the f-”
“One.” I cut off Brandon with an extension of arm, my palm splayed threateningly toward him. Tera watched me from behind my daughter, angling the knife against her spine.
“Two.” I said coldly, a ball of plasmatic heat radiating from my hand, so hot that Brandon’s skin glistened from ten feet away. Tera narrowed her violet eyes.
“Thr-” a blast of blue power shot from Brandon’s mouth, hitting me in the chest. My body was no longer just mine. I felt something, someone, desperately trying to gain control. I gritted my teeth and focused the energy into my hand, the molten sphere vibrating with imminent release, Brandon in the crosshairs of my splayed fingers.
Please don’t! A female voice screamed. Angela. She tried to touch the motors of my mind, but they’d belonged to me for far longer, and I shut her out. She raced into my memories and started ripping through them, and I closed the book before she got too deep.
Let me see! she screamed, I can’t help you unless you let me see!
Get out! I growled, trying to expel her from me. It was no use. Every time I kicked her from one part of my cognizance, she just hopped to another.
Tera will kill Diamond, I promise you she will! Angela yelled, And if you kill Brandon, and I become a Sentient, I will fucking haunt you, I swear it on your holy mother! Now let me see who you are!
I tentatively unlocked my memories, and felt Angela sift through them. My journey to Drastin, my morning with Arbitrus, my night with Diamond and Lucilla, my murder of Passion, my days of bliss with her, my night with Lucilla in the tower, my years spent in the convent, my years in the orphanage, my-
That’s far enough! I screamed, feeling that memory coming back to me, those blackened, shrieking faces. Angela stopped there, carefully putting the memory back into place. I felt her memories too, of days spent in the mind of Justina, of years floating beside Brandon, of nights watching him from the corner of the room, of wooden wheels bearing down on me, of horrid, crushing pain, of oxen hooves trampling as my skull split against the-
That’s also, far enough, Angela said quietly as I gawked in horror, I need to take control of your mouth and eyes now, OK?
I numbly let her, my mind still echoing with the firsthand experience of death.
“Tera,” a voice that was not my own said from my lips, “she’s not here to kill Brandon. Flora was mistaken.”
“Then why is she here?” Tera hissed, not moving.
To kill Willowbud, for one. Angela said to me, I can tell you’re undecided, so let me add my two cents; if you have the shot, you fucking take it.
“To get Brandon to reconstruct the womb of Arbortus,” Angela answered with my mouth, “and to find a new Passion.”
And If you think I’m living in a fucking tree for eternity, you’re dead wrong. Angela hissed in my mind, Find a different undead sucker to fill the role.
“Satisfied?” Angela asked Tera.
“Is she going to kill me the moment I let her daughter go?”
“She’s fifty-fifty on that.” Angela replied honestly. Tera sighed, gave me a resigned look, and pulled the knife from my daughter’s neck. Diamond’s green eyes returned to her, flashing purple sclera for a moment as they focused on Angela within me, and then lolling back to whites as she stumbled forward. Lucilla scrambled forward and caught Diamond before she fell, and I let the fire die, still staring at Tera, watching with some contempt as relief spread across her face.
“Well,” Brandon said, stepping between us, a noticeable dark spot on his crotch, “that wasn’t fun. Let’s never do that again, OK?”
The earth shook violently beneath us, the windows rattling, the walls cracking. Angela abruptly took control of my hand, aimed it, and sent a fire ball blasting into her body. She ejected herself from my mind as the house exploded around us, the bricks turning into a fine, soft dust. The mid-morning sun shined brightly in my eyes, and I squinted through the rubble-soaked haze as Willowbud Autumnsong strutted toward me.
Brandon had pissed himself, that much was obvious. Tera was standing naked in the corner, an antlered nymph-elf sporting a substantial erection was lying on the ground, a high-elf tattooed with glowing patterns was holding her, and the Heat Bringer was burning with white flame, her sparkling, curvaceous beauty somehow complimented by the piece of man dangling between her legs. All-in-all, this was a weird morning, even for me. I noticed the burnt carcass lying on the ground, and smugly realized Gloria hadn’t been wearing her sunscreen today. My bad. Astrid stepped beside me, her sword drawn, her face pulled into its stoic, warrior grimace. Justina stood on my other side, not much use in a fight, but she did add symmetry.
“Well… hi!” I said cheerfully, testing the earth beneath Sister Julia, trying to determine just how fast I could kill the bitch before she fried me. Judging by the melted rock beneath her feet, I doubted I could do much damage. I glanced at the patterned woman, the Heat Bringer’s power radiating from her flesh. A stone through her head might even the odds, though.
“Hi!” the antlered-nymph-elf responded with unironic cheer. I liked her.
“I take it you’re Willowbud?” the patterned woman said with an imperious inflection. That bitch could eat a dick.
“That, I am,” I said stepping forward, feeling-out the rock, “and you must be Princess Lucilla.”
“That’s far enough!” the Heat Bringer yelled.
“And this is the infamous Sister Julia Glendian.” I grinned, looking her over, “God, it’s nice not to be disappointed. I hope you can say the same; I’m sure Brandon’s been telling you lovely things about me.”
“I already knew all I needed to.” Sister Julia said coldly.
I took another step forward, and Sister Julia exploded with flame, the heat threatening me from fifty paces away. Brandon, Tera and the antlered girl all scrambled away, but Lucilla just walked nonchalantly beside her bound love, and smiled as she wrapped her arms around Julia’s waist. Her dress disintegrated from her body, revealing the whole of her patterned beauty as the pair of them rose above the ground, shining brighter than the sun. The stone beneath Sister Julia’s feet turned molten, sinking into a deepening depression as jets of fire pounded them from her feet, making a mockery of my feeble earth. Lightening crackled in sporadic tendrils about her form, flashing from her arms and legs in an overdone, but effective display of power. For the first time in my life, I was outmatched; woefully, wholly outmatched. I could practically feel Corruption’s terror in my veins; KILL HER! the Sentient seemed to scream, but Corruption’s influence on my soul contradicted her personal sentiments. If anything, her terror only goaded me. Here was a challenge, here was something to ease the monotony. Can I break this holy sister? Can I ruin her? Can I make her mine? I felt Corruption calm herself within me, getting with the program, searching Sister Julia to find what darkness I could bring out of her, what morsel of sin laid beneath the pious mask. Corruption would find it, as she always did (except with Brandon, for some fucking reason), and I would coax it from Sister Julia until it became who she was, and she became mine. If I couldn’t, well... a boulder to the skull kills everything, even a god.
I looked around, and noticed the gawking faces of Drastin’s citizens, all pointed at Sister Julia. That bothered me, so I took the cobblestone street, and pulled it from the earth like yanking a rug from the floor. I turned the two-hundred-yard stretch of road into hundred-foot-high spire, and commemorated Gloria’s life by dropping the monument on her corpse. Shocked gasps of ‘Earth Former’ and ‘Night Eyes’ met my ears, and my ego was sated. Brandon, realizing we were having a public dick-measuring contest, colored the spire in an intricate layer of flowers, gilded it with a flock of golden doves, and turned the entire boulevard into an apple orchard, adding his girth to the lineup. It was an interesting way to introduce ourselves to the world, but I guessed it had to happen eventually. Gods can’t hide in the shadows for long, not when one of them is light itself.
“Are we done here?” I yelled to Sister Julia, “Or do you need me to get a measuring tape?”
“I should kill you.” Sister Julia said simply, her voice cutting through the roar of her flame.
“Probably.” I grinned, taking another step forward.
“You’re not afraid that I will?”
“I’m only afraid of myself, Sister.” I yelled, another step toward the heat. Sister Julia’s stern face softened at that. She cautiously eased herself and Lucilla to the ground, the flame dimming from her flesh. I stepped forward, and extended my hand. Julia looked at it for a painfully long time, and then reached out, and grasped it. Applause and cheers rose from around us as the mortals of the city bared witness to the historical union. They didn’t see the challenge that crossed our eyes, or the threat that lurked on our smiling lips.
Now that the cat was out of the bag, Willowbud had no qualms about displaying her powers in ostentatious spectacle. The two-story Screeching Siren was atop a newly-made, five-hundred-foot stone tower, secluding the trio of gods from the tens of thousands packed around the tower’s foot. Dignitaries and nobles pitched camp in the brothel district’s streets, their massive tents nothing but specs of garish color. The king of Drastinar himself had rushed to pay homage, and Willowbud had taken great delight in slamming the door on him. Willowbud (or rather, Night Eyes) didn’t give a shit about nobility; it was the rabble she enjoyed, and they had come in droves.
“…I never did get to meet Passion,” Willowbud said airily, lounging on her couch with her head in Brandon’s lap, “my mother and her never saw eye-to-eye. Did you meet Flora while in Arbortus?”
“No.” Lucilla answered, both her and Julia crammed into dresses from my wardrobe.
“I was asking Sister Julia.” Willowbud said tersely. Lucilla’s cheeks went red, her eyes narrowing. Those two obviously weren’t going to get along.
“I never had the pleasure.” Julia answered Willowbud, though she gave Mom a sidelong glance.
“‘Pleasure’ isn’t something Flora provides,” Willowbud chuckled, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she had thorns in her cunt.”
Mom chortled at that. She sat beside Astrid, who was staring intently at Julia, looking poised to defend her Mistress at the slightest provocation. I sat across from them, between Brandon and Diamond, who had scooched her chair from her mom to sit closer to me.
“Hey,” she whispered, a big smile crossing her red lips, “I’m Diamond!”
“I know.” I said, unable to keep from smiling back. There was something infectious about her unbridled friendliness that made everyone she talked to like her. Even Astrid had relented a smile when Diamond made her acquaintance.
“I’m sorry I tried to kill your mom,” Diamond whispered as Julia and Willowbud conversationally gaged other, “but she stabbed my mom in the back, so, you know… but, we’re all friends now, right?”
“Right.” I said, looking her over, “Is it true that you’re only a week old?”
“One week and nine hours now.” Diamond smiled.
“How did you know how to use a sword?”
“My other mom taught me while I was in her womb.” Diamond said, as if that explained it.
“My mom perfected her craft for hundreds of years, trained with the greatest swordsmen of her time, and killed some of the deadliest warriors Drastinar has to offer, and you almost bested her without ever touching a blade?”
“Fascinating.” I whispered, “This throws everything the scientific community knows about ‘nature vs nurture’ out the window; if we could determine what mechanism allowed your mother to pass useful skills to you while in utero, we could… I’m sorry, this must all sound like gibberish to you.”
“It all happens during the development of the infantile prefrontal cortex.” Diamond whispered back, “Genetic information passed during this period often contains hereditary knowledge. It is the utilization of the tRNA by the host nucleus that allows for what is called ‘instinctual learning.’ My incubation optimized this period, allowing me to gain vast amounts of utilizable information in a short span.”
“Oh.” I managed, staring with mouth agape at Diamond.
“It’s nice to talk to someone with an interest in cellular biology.” Diamond smiled, “What other fields have you studied? I’ve been trying to expand my knowledge of material sciences, namely, the structural properties of bio-based polymers. I have this theory that plant fibers are actually the stabilizing property of a matrix composite, and if-”
“Do you want to fuck?” I practically gasped. I never believed in love at first sight, but, well… shit. Diamond didn’t even flinch at the proposition. She just bit her lip excitedly, grinning with a twinkle in her emerald eyes.
“Right here?” Diamond giggled, “Right now?”
“Right now,” I said, taking her hand, staying my enslaving powers, “but not right here; I’ve got a room.”
Julia and Willowbud were so busy sparring words that neither of them noticed Justina and Diamond sneak off, their hands sliding up each other’s skirts. Lucilla, since regulated to a second-stringer by Willowbud’s disdain, had gotten into a staring match with her new counterpart, Astrid, while Brandon had gotten into a staring match with the wall, nodding periodically to maintain the façade of listening. I sighed, wishing I could join my daughter and her new antlered-friend, but alas, I had to sit at the grown-up’s table. I wished Gloria was here; she would’ve known how to referee this exchange. The adversarial undertone was rapidly losing its subtlety, and I worried that we might be verging on outright hostility.
“Of course, they should worship us!” Willowbud laughed, “They should build shrines and sacrifice virgins to us! Why not?”
“Not only is that blasphemous,” Julia growled, “but it’s wholly unethical! We should be beacons of hope, examples of virtue and mercy, not tyrants!”
“Honey, I’m not saying we should rule the world,” Willowbud smiled, “that sounds like a lot of administrative bullshit that I don’t want to deal with. Let the little kings and emperors shepherd the cattle; I just want to have my fun.”
“Fun.” Julia said flatly, “You don’t think your powers give you responsibility beyond your own amusement?”
“No, I actually don’t.” Willowbud’s smile grew even wider.
“What do you think, Brandon?” Julia asked.
“Huh?” Brandon started, “Oh, uh… you both make great points.” Willowbud elbowed him in the ribs. “Fuck, ow!”
“You’re my boyfriend; you’re supposed to agree with me by default!”
“Whatever Julia said is right,” Brandon groaned, rubbing his side, “I will not be intimidated by terrorists.”
“Please pay attention, Brandon,” Julia said, barely masking her impatience, “we’re talking about the future of the world here.”
“I don’t get why we have to have some kind of agreed-upon agenda.” Brandon said, “How about you just do your thing, I do my thing, and Willowbud does her thing? If our things happen to come together, then we’ll both do each other’s things, OK?”
“And what happens when your thing and my thing oppose each other?” Julia asked, “What happens when, just for example, that thing inside your girlfriend decides destroying Drastin might be her ‘thing?’”
“Drastin wouldn’t be much fun as rubble,” Willowbud mused lazily, “Terondia, on the other hand…”
“You fucking bitch!” Lucilla screamed.
“I’m sorry, did anyone else hear that?” Willowbud grinned, “I swear I just heard the rare mating call of the Imperial Dick Swallow.”
“Julia, kill this cunt right-”
“Enough!” I yelled, causing all eyes to shift to me. I stood there, gaging each expectant gaze, instantly regretting my outburst. What would Gloria say? What wisdom should an ancient impart upon immature gods with limitless power?
“Astrid and I need to promote our fight,” was what I managed to come up with, “we’re fighting in The Pit championship in two nights, and you three have stolen all our thunder! It was the most anticipated bout in a century, and now it’s going to be regulated to page six of the Drastin Times because you greedy fuckers had to go public!”
“You have to… promote your fight.” Julia said slowly.
“That’s right.” I said firmly, lifting my chin, “Astrid and I get on stage, perform various dance routines, and have a mock duel with practice weapons. Then, we show our gratitude to our wonderful fans by fucking as many of them as we can before our legs give out. Afterward, we sign autographs and sponsor charity events for the local orphanage. It’s a crucial part of community outreach, and you three are fucking it up!”
“I was really looking forward to it.” Astrid mumbled beside me. There was a tense silence where I wondered if I’d just united Willowbud and Julia in the joint venture of killing me.
“I’d actually like to see that.” Lucilla said quietly, putting her hand on Julia’s thigh, “What about you?”
“Do you just… jump into the crowd and see what happens?” Julia asked me, “Or is there a number system, or a line, or… Good Mother, the logistics of it!”
“I usually act as the M.C,” Willowbud said, “I pick patrons from the crowd, and bring them on stage.”
“And I cure our gladiators of S.T.D s afterward.” Brandon added, “Of which there are many.”
“I did a gangbang once,” Lucilla smiled, “it was actually a devil’s threesome, but between two of the biggest orcs you’d ever seen. I didn’t walk right for days.”
“My first gangbang was with an orc, an elf, a dwarf, Mistress, and a half-giant,” Astrid added with a slight smile, “I thought I was going to die, but Mistress got me through it.”
“You did more than just ‘get through it,’” Willowbud smirked, “you were practically speaking in tongues.”
“I lost my hetero virginity in a gangbang.” Julia said quietly, an impish smile on her usually-pious portrait.
“Bullshit!” from Brandon.
“It’s true,” Julia giggled, “I was in Passion’s womb, and she brought her sons to me and… well, they did not leave me wanting. Or vacant.”
“There’s a slut in that nun, isn’t there?” Willowbud smirked.
“An anal slut.” Lucilla sniggered, and the two women shared a laugh as Julia’s cheeks reddened.
“Brandon and I were going to experiment along those lines today, actually.” Willowbud said.
“He told us.” Julia grinned.
“Did he?” Willowbud gave Brandon an apprising look, “I thought you wanted to keep a lid on that.”
“I needed a good ice-breaker.”
“And he decided his anal-bleaching would suffice.” Lucilla chuckled.
“It certainly got us talking, didn’t it?” Brandon said with a raised eyebrow.
“If I’m being honest, it seems like kind of a one-sided proposition.” Lucilla sneered at Willowbud, glancing at the depression in the Earth Former’s inseam, “By which I mean, Brandon doesn’t appear to be making too great a sacrifice.”
“Oh, we’re doing that now, are we?” Willowbud bared her teeth, hooking her thumbs into her waistband, “Do you want to see a magic trick, Your Highness?”
And with that, Willowbud pulled down her pants, showing the mortified Julia and sneering Lucilla her bald pussy. She grew a cock from her slit as a pair of balls dropped from her pelvis, and the pair of elves dropped their jaws in congruence.
“Ta-dah!” Willowbud exclaimed with a flourish of her hand.
“Well, come on,” Willowbud said to Julia, “let’s nip this bud before we end up starting a war over it. Pull up your skirt, Sister.”
“It used to be that I was the only woman packing heat,” Willowbud said, “and that made me the queen-bee in some circles. I need to know if I’ve just been dethroned.”
“Julia’s way bigger than that!” Lucilla laughed. Julia did not look like she appreciated her hype-woman.
“Only one way to find out.” Willowbud shrugged.
“There are some things better left unknown.” Julia said, blushing even more.
“That sounds like someone who’s got a pussy where her balls should be.” Willowbud smirked. Julia narrowed her eyes, the redness in her face darkening for a different reason. She kicked off her shoes, marched over to Willowbud, and pulled up her skirt, her eyes fixed on the Earth Former’s.
“Bow to your queen.” She sneered.
“Fuck,” Willowbud sighed, “yeah, that’s… both length and girth, huh? Shit… well… wait, you know what? It doesn’t mean shit when it’s soft. Get hard.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little desperate?” Julia smirked.
“I don’t think you’ve got anymore to spare,” Willowbud smirked back, stroking herself, “but I’ve got a few secret inches left.”
“This is beyond stupid.”
“Can’t get it up?” Willowbud asked, eyes twinkling, “Performance anxiety isn’t uncommon, Sister; it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Not all boners are created equal!” Brandon piped-in, “Tera can make sure everyone is at peak performance.”
“That’s true.” Willowbud said, glancing at me, “Care to help out?”
“I’d love to.” I stepped alongside the two women, reaching with worshipful fingers, longing to grasp what I’d been staring covetously at. Julia took a cautious step back, her face telling me she still hadn’t forgiven me for taking her daughter hostage. My hand found her tool, and her face found forgiveness. I suppressed a shudder as I felt both women engorged in my palms, my seductive touch localized to prevent enslavement. I unwrapped my hands finger-by-finger, then squatted until my ass was level with my ankles, my back straight, my eyes lasciviously inspecting the two gods.
“It’s really close.” I said, sliding a studious finger along both shafts, hiding a grin as precum bubbled from both tips, “We’ll have to do a side-by-side to know for sure.”
I guided Julia forward, and she didn’t protest. I slowly slid her pale, sparkled shaft alongside Willowbud’s caramel trunk, pressing them against each other, making the women feel every bump of vein of the other until finally, a tip pressed a pelvis.
“I win.” Julia whispered, her eyes a few inches higher than Willowbud’s, but their gazes connected all the same.
“I guess you do.” Willowbud conceded with a whisper of her own, her forest-green irises shining from their black depths, wild with the same hunger reflected in Julia’s emerald regard.
“What’s my prize?” Julia asked, a hand coming from her side, cupping Willowbud’s cheek, a thumb running along lush lips. Julia’s kind, empathetic piety fell away like a loose gown, revealing a woman of dangerous passions. I could tell by the look in Willowbud’s eyes, that she’d seen it in the nun all along.
“You only ever earn what you take.” Willowbud whispered. Julia’s mouth curled into a wicked grin, and Willowbud’s did the same.
“Then I think I’ll take Brandon’s deal off your plate.” Julia uttered, one hand sliding down Willowbud’s chest, abdomen and pelvis, as the other trailed fingertips down the arc of Willowbud’s spine.
“That deal goes both ways, Sister.” Willowbud replied, leaning into the Heat Bringer, their shafts pressing to each other’s bellies, precum darkening their clothes.
“I have a feeling…” Julia whispered, her trailing hand finding Willowbud’s bare ass, squeezing into caramel glute until her fingers disappeared in the fat, “…that your apprehension is born from inexperience. Maybe you’ve taken a finger, maybe a toy, but never a man.”
“Your intuition is remarkable,” Willowbud breathed, one hand twirling a finger into Julia’s crimson strands, the other sliding between her legs, “are you going to be a lady, and let me go first?”
“No.” Julia smiled, and Willowbud’s grin grew even wider. She stepped from her pants, pressing deeper into Julia’s body, connecting them from pelvis to chest. Julia’s nipples pointed vulgarly through the silk of her white dress, her ample bust consuming the petite swell of Willowbud’s shirted bosom. Their eyes stayed locked as their sneering mouths neared each other, their lips opening, their tongue sneaking through them. They connected, their cheeks growing gaunt in a combative devouring, humming their lechery through wet smacks as their faces rotated to gain purchase. Their hands moved on each other, ripping necklines through their bodices, springing their breasts free in a jiggling display of caramel and white, the domes deforming and gleaming wetly in the midmorning sun.
“I heard you were nearly bested by an infant.” Astrid’s words in my ear, her lips against my lobe, her hands on my shoulders, sliding down my arms, moving down my torso, coming together between my legs, “I heard you had to cheat to beat her.”
“Fighting dirty and winning is still winning,” I chuckled, my hands playing through the shorn sides of her head, tangling into the braided lengths of her crown, pulling her face into the crook of my neck. My head drooped blissfully to the side, murmurs of gratitude leaking from my lips as Astrid’s fingers did their work inside me. We’d been inseparable since becoming fighting partners, and knew the secrets of each other’s bodies inside and out. I laced my fingers around the back of Astrid’s head, and supported myself as she made my legs weak. She curled three digits against the spot within me, the thumb of that hand pressing the clit, the other hand wetting with the fluid she coerced from me, and moving slowly behind. I moaned my satisfaction as she pinched her fingers together about the purple circle of my rim, and gradually pushed her entire hand inside. Knuckle by knuckle, joint by joint, I felt every contour of her stretch me with painful pleasure, my sheath clinging and coiling like a fleshy vice, beckoning her deeper into my filth. I opened my mouth to cry my delight, but someone beat me to it.
I stared with mouth agape at the two gladiators. Never in my life had I seen two creatures move together like that. It was like they were dancing; Astrid holding Tera from behind, her hands playing within the woman, Tera reacting with the motion of her hips, bending and swaying, and Astrid bending and swaying in time, her pelvis connected with Tera’s ass, her lips connected with Tera’s collar. Both women bore curves that put mine to shame, and both were laced with muscle that rippled subtly with every motion. Tera’s abdomen stretched into tonal sections, her domes shadowing their striations as her back arched, her purple lips parting to yield blissful moans, her onyx hair laying thin strands over her flushed complexion, tangling about her satanic horns. Astrid’s larger frame encompassed the succubus, white wings folding over her, tattooed arms trapping her lustfully, tattooed legs supporting her.
“It’s like watching art, isn’t it? Like a fallen angel seducing the devil herself.” a man’s voice said. I looked up to see Brandon standing by my couch, enjoying the spectacle as much as I was, as evidenced by the growth in his trousers. He sat beside me, watching Tera and Astrid as they performed their hellish mating, watching Julia and Willowbud as they progressed to further stages of undress, wresting with each other. I could tell Brandon didn’t know how to broach me. Though he was a god, he was still a commoner, and that mental barrier between peasant and royalty was a hard one to break. So, I jumped on his lap, grinned back at him, and took the initiative.
My eyes opened to lazy slits, focusing on Princess Lucilla’s royal features; the elegant length of her neck, the pronouncement of her proud chin, the big, blue eyes set above delicate cheeks, framed with fine, platinum hair. She was curvy for an elf, both her and Julia were (especially Julia), but Lucilla’s porcelain flesh spoke of a pure bloodline, and the complex patterns that laced it only added to her majesty. This woman certainly looked the part of a storybook princess, but the expression she was giving me didn’t belong in any kind of fairytale, and the things she was doing hardly belonged in a whore house. Princess Lucilla had Brandon’s entire fist up her ass, her body rigid with the intensity of it, her arms and legs creating a bridge over the man who was violating her.
“Astrid, I think we have a challenger.” I chuckled. I’d met Lucilla’s type before; privileged sluts who gaged their self-worth on how ‘wild’ they could be, always overcompensating and sexually one-upping. They were some of my favorite people. Give me two of those whores, and I could turn any party into an orgy in under twenty minutes.
“She’s not even in the same league,” Astrid breathed onto my neck, pushing her invasion deeper, causing my knees to buckle, “ignore her.”
“Give her a chance to prove herself,” I gasped, licking my lips at the elf, “what’s the harm in friendly competition?”
Brandon matched Astrid’s progress with obvious amusement, causing Lucilla to growl with the deepening of her penetration, her neck standing with tension. Her occupied pussy was flushed with the arousal of her anal violation, the clear nectar dripping down Brandon’s massaging fingers, the tendons in his hand flexing as he gently discovered her secrets. Her diaphragm heaved with breath, the white silk of her dress darkening with the exertion of her lust, clinging to the obvious swell of her breasts, pointed nipples signaling her joy, cleavage glistening from glowing flesh. She bit her lip in concentration, gave me a wink, and shifted herself downward; her hips swaying this way and that, her knees bending, her supporting arms trembling as she corkscrewed Brandon’s fist into her rim, the fleshy cuff wrapping gratefully about his wrist as the entrance narrowed around a lesser girth.
“Perhaps I underestimated her.” Astrid mused, adjusting my penetration to match Lucilla’s, forcing me to climb to my tip-toes, breathless sobs expiring from my chest, “I think she’s mad that you dismembered her earlier; perhaps you should make amends?”
“I want to see how far she can take it.” I gasped, chest rising and falling, cheeks flushed, lips gaping with desperate expirations, “Don’t stop!”
“We wouldn’t want to hurt the little princess, would we?” Astrid kissed my neck, “I’m sure she has the spirit, but her body isn’t built like yours. Mistress and Her Holiness have enough hostility for the lot of us; let us be peacemakers.”
I’d lived with two succubi, a corrupted deity, a vampire with limitless libido, and a sexually-mutated Valkyrie for the better part of a month, and not once had any of them jumped on my lap and told me to stick my fist as far up their ass as I could. I had known Princess Lucilla for the better part of an hour, and already my fingers were tickling colon. I could see why Sister Julia had bound with her; this one was definitely a keeper.
“Oh, thank god,” Lucilla sobbed when Astrid stopped her venture. The princess looked down at me from over her shoulder, her porcelain-hued face flushed, her eyes leaking, her pink lips gaping in a smile, “this was my first time trying that, and you were already past my limit.”
“Do you want me to pull out?”
“No!” Lucilla practically begged, before regaining her composure with an embarrassed smile, “No, just… stretch me like you were doing before.”
“Like this?” I curled my hand into a fist, and began rotating as I gently pushed and pulled. Lucilla’s head fell behind her shoulders, her arms straining against the couch’s headrest, her intricately-patterned back flexing above my face as she shifted to the movements of my penetration, her mouth moaning and hissing as pain and pleasure clashed within her. Tight heat surrounded my closed hand, vile muscles twitching and constricting with my every shift, the smooth flesh of her innards deforming against my knuckles. My other hand massaged Lucilla almost lovingly, fingers pressing with gentle circles, a calming contrast to the abuse I was delivering to her exit. Astrid carried the moaning Tera over to us, her body twisted about the Valkyrie as she was impaled during transportation. Lucilla eased herself forward, facing away as she straddled me, giving me a great view of just how much of my arm had disappeared inside her. Her asshole was a pink, thin circle that whitened with each twitch, centered about succulent, porcelain glutes that glowed with the swooshing patterns that marked her, her skirt draping over the tops of her domes. She pulled her dress the rest of the way off her, and gave me an excited smile over her shoulder as Tera was lowered between my legs.
There had been a time when I would’ve been sexually intimidated by Tera and Astrid, but now, I was only excited by women with more experience. My challenge had been more of invitation than anything, and I was glad they excepted, because I didn’t doubt Tera could’ve taken Astrid to the elbow.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot, Your Highness.” Tera said, words dripping from her lips, “Or I guess the wrong hand, in your case. Let us reintroduce ourselves.”
Tera slid her body up mine, her touch electric, her motions unnaturally alluring. Her larger bosom seemed to consume my chest, her toned abdomen was silky despite the muscle, her thighs were supple, and seeped their warmth into mine as she locked them around me. My vision was filled with tantalizing, violet irises, their depths whispering of unspeakable pleasure. There were words I had planned to say; clever, flirtatious words, but Brandon’s hands pushed them from my mind, and they were lost in Tera’s promising gaze.
“Princess?” Tera asked, voice like honey. I knew she was limiting her seductive powers, but it seemed that she couldn’t stem them completely with Astrid doing her work. The hormones that marked Tera’s species leaked from her sweat and mingled with my flesh, radiating their desire deep into my nerves. I recalled the look on Diamond’s face when Tera had taken her hostage, the rapt desire in her changed eyes. I wanted to know what that felt like.
“No, not Princess,” I whispered, taking Tera’s hands and guiding them to my glutes, making her spread me so that Brandon could push even deeper, “Slave.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, a long, forked tongue sliding across lush, purple lips. I’d never been surer of anything in my life. I was drunk with her.
“Take me.” I whispered. I melted into her body, melted into her kiss, felt her devilish tongue taste me in a way I’d never been tasted before. Unbridled hedonism, untamed lust. Tera’s intoxication was one of limitless indulgence, and I dove into its shackles with both feet. Master, my mind whispered as I surrendered myself, make me like you.
Diamond was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her skin was a rich, olive tone that sparkled with bejeweled freckles, canvasing a body of slender grace that bore small breasts, a supple backside, and a modest manhood above glistening, pink petals. Her scarlet hair made a fiery mane about her head as she relaxed on the bed, her black antlers digging into the pillow, her red lips parted, her emerald irises shining from her mother’s apple cheeks. I straddled her on my knees, my long, thin tail curved forward, its length sliding between the folds of my pussy as its tip penetrated Diamond’s pink sphincter.
“You like it when a girl takes control, huh?” I smiled at her, slowly pushing in and out of her taught filth, listening to the sweet expirations of her lust as I stroked her cock.
“Yessss.” Diamond hissed, her eyes closing blissfully, her back arching from the bed, her cock twitching with each press of my invading tail, her slit leaking down her taint, lubricating her defilement.
“Do you want me to take control of you completely?” I asked, pressing my thumb firmly on the underside of her tip, grinning as precum bubbled from its peak. I’d never fed from someone I’d enslaved before, and my instincts had been punishing me for not fulfilling my design. Still, I would never take someone against their will; I wasn’t my mother.
“Will you let me go when it’s done?” Diamond asked, running her hands up my thighs. I leaned forward, pressing belly to belly and breasts to breasts, my violet eyes smiling into her emeralds, my black hair tickling her face.
“Maybe.” I grinned wickedly, “Maybe I’ll make you my little slut forever.”
“Are you joking?” Diamond asked, “I’m not very good at telling the difference.”
I laughed softly against her lips, running an endearing hand over a sparkling, apple cheek.
“Your mind is too beautiful a thing to chain.” I whispered, “I just want to play with it for a little bit.”
“Then make me your toy.” Diamond whispered back, arching her body against me as my tail found her prostate, pressing and milking the organ with slow, long passes. I grinned into her eyes, and snaked my forked tongue into her mouth. Her lips pressed to mine as I relaxed, and let my powers pour into her.
Most of my life I’d been a pacifist nun, trying to find tranquility and peace in the grace of the Holy Mother. Conversely, most of Night Eyes’ life had been spent as a gangster, fighting tooth and nail for whatever it was she wanted to steal. As such, she treated me as rival stepping into her territory, and though we had a prearranged agreement, I had the feeling she wasn’t planning on honoring it. Exactly who was getting fucked in the ass first had become a point of contention, and resolution would only be found through submission. I was shocked at how much I enjoyed it.
Night Eyes took a handful of my hair and ripped it back, forcing my crown against the carpet, allowing her to wrap her other hand around my stretched throat. She was atop me now, her clothes in tatters, her cock pressed against my own, throbbing heat drooling cum across our smearing bellies. She was smaller than me, but toned with muscle I didn’t have, and inclined to a viciousness I didn’t possess.
“Just open your legs, Sister,” Night Eyes sneered in my ear, “I swear on the Holy Mother I’ll let you have your turn after I’m done.”
I grabbed two fistfuls of her white hair and yanked, sending her neck craning and her back arching, face snarling to the ceiling. Her choking hand found my nipple, and she torqued my breast into a spiral of creamy flesh, milk spurting from my tip. I gasped at the feeling, relishing the burning, the release of pressure, the warm wetness. I was compelled to free the nymph, and her face sprang forward, teeth bared, black eyes livid and hungry beneath disheveled strands of white. She bit the nipple she was torturing, and stretched my breast to a conical point between white teeth, causing me to cry my agonized delight and spread my legs like she wanted. One hand kept my hair pulled as the other moved own our bellies, past our joined members and between my thighs. Another cry sung from me as Night Eyes’ fingers pushed into my slit, coaxing the weaker half of my sexuality to the forefront, making me want to become hers. My legs opened wider, my hands splayed pathetically to the sides, my back arched to push my breasts deeper into Night Eyes’ face. She toyed with me from the inside, her forefinger and middle finger discovering what made me tick, her thumb expertly working my clit, her ring and pinky finger sliding down my taint. She grinned around my reddened nipple as I whimpered for her, as I angled my pelvis so that she could penetrate my favorite hole, the one I wasn’t supposed to garner pleasure from. She pushed her other fingers inside me, touching my vulnerability, coercing my weakness, making me limp. Night Eyes sucked indulgently from my nipple, enjoying a drink of my milk in her victory, squeezing the breast like I was a cow. It was humiliating, but somehow that only made it better.
“In your religion’s creation story, the Holy Mother gets raped by Satan, doesn’t she?” Night Eyes whispered, pulling my hair harder, causing tears to film my eyes.
“Yes,” I replied, hips grinding without my permission, “and she succumbs to the devil’s lust.”
“Your Holy Mother sounds like a masochistic whore with a rape fantasy,” Night Eyes sneered, pushing her hand forcefully, squeezing my taint between the fork of her fingers, “are you trying to emulate her?”
“I’ve known devils worse than you.” I moaned, stretching my body to accommodate her, my hands sliding gently between us, grasping her cock, caressing her, preparing her for when she finally took me.
“I don’t think that’s true.” Night Eyes hissed, licking the curved exposure of my neck, “God, you’re delicious, Sister; after I’m done with you, I’ll have to see if Diamond tastes the same.”
I knew Night Eyes was testing me, seeing if she could get a rise out of me, but she’d so perfectly exploited my weaker half, that I couldn’t find the rage. It had been weeks since my original sexuality was last satisfied, and now that it was being sated, I was helpless to it.
“Where did the fire go, Heat Bringer?” Night Eyes grinned in my face. In and out, in and out; her fingers were slick with my nectar and anal lust, squelching against my tender flesh, massaging me possessively, too good to deny. Night Eyes released her hold on my hair, and caressed my cheek, thumb playing at my lips. I sucked it like she wanted me to, my emerald eyes brimming hopefully up at her, submissive, adoring, pleading, showing her what I could do with my mouth, my tongue teasing her digit, longing for something else. It had been so long…
“Please!” I finally begged, “Please fuck my ass!”
“That’s not very pious language for a Holy Sister.” Night Eyes lectured with a grin.
“I’ve been excommunicated.” I hissed, tongue licking the tip of her thumb.
Night Eyes’ grin broadened. She pulled her hand out of me, grabbed me by the hips, and spun me over. My ass perked behind me, a protrusion of pale, sparkling fat that eased gradually into an arched spine, one side of my face resting against the carpet, one green eye watching Night Eyes as I spread myself wide for her. She ran a covetous hand along the length of my back, over my readied anus, through my frothing lips, and into my pussy, pressing against my anal wall from the other side, teasing at what was to come. She lined her tip to my winking aperture, gave me an imperious sneer, and forced every inch of herself deep inside me.
My head flung forward, my breasts squishing against my deepening bodily curve, my voice ringing out its satisfaction. My arms dropped from my sides and curled beneath my head, creating a pillow so that I could comfortably enjoy my violation. Comfort was not something Night Eyes provided, however. She slapped my ass with vicious, full-swing blows that rippled the flesh and left a reddened handprint, jolting the pain into ferocious pleasure. My arms stretched before me, fingers clawing at the carpet, a primal reaction to the punishment. Night Eyes’ cock rammed deeper and deeper, separating my tight sin, mercilessly burrowing, relentlessly bringing my ecstasy to greater heights, as if she was raping it out of me. My pussy gushed with each deep drive, a bodily response to my wonderful abuse, wetting the invading fingers that pressed my womanhood against the cock ravaging me from the other side. I sobbed my delight into my biceps, the muscles straining as my arms clawed before me, fingernails creating singed track marks in the carpet where my powers expressed my joy. I looked up from between my arms, and through my disheveled, red hair, I saw Lucilla smiling at me, her eyes the wrong color.
I shared a smirk with Mistress as I watched her dominate the Heat Bringer. Sister Julia Glendian may have lain with Passion, but Mistress was possessed of Corruption, and there was no denying the Sentient her due. Both Julia and Lucilla had undoubtedly thought themselves experienced women before they came here, and maybe they were, but the residence of the Screeching Siren were a different breed of beast.
“What should we do with our captive princess?” Tera prompted me as she sucked my sullied fingers clean. I traced a wet finger along the patterns that glowed from Lucilla’s flesh, admiring their complexity, how the flaming lines never touched, and I felt an odd sense of guilt. My own body had become a canvas for illustration, and I loved how it looked on me, but this was something else entirely; something divine, something that should be worshiped. Tera could have her fun, but I would not be a blasphemer; I hadn’t fallen that far yet.
“I will only do what the Bound One asks of me.” I replied, giving Tera an apologetic smile.
“And what,” Tera grinned at Lucilla, lifting her chin up, “does the ‘Bound One’ want?”
“Whatever you want, Master.” Lucilla whispered at Tera, violet eyes full of adoration. Tera’s delighted smile broadened. She reached around Lucilla and grasped Brandon’s forearm, slowly withdrawing the limb, causing the enslaved princess to moan, and press her body deeper to her master’s.
“Your enthusiasm is commendable, Your Highness.” Tera whispered lovingly as she did her work, “You have the sprit and the potential, but your experience is still lacking. In my world, words like ‘disgusting’ and ‘abhorrent’ are just synonyms for ‘fun.’ Astrid learned this the hard way,” Tera gave me a wicked grin, “but I think you are much more receptive than she was. After I’m done with you, Sister Julia won’t know what hit her the next time the two of you jump into bed. Now, breathe slowly, and relax; this might feel strange at first.”
Tera stopped Brandon’s withdrawal at the wrist, then pressed her fingertips against either side of Lucilla’s gape, indenting the pale flesh around the pulsing protrusion of her prink rim. The tendons in Branon’s arm flexed as he balled his penetrating hand into a fist, causing the princess to whimper, her back to curve into a deeper arch, and her porcelain breasts to flatten against Tera’s bronze chest.
“When I say push,” Tera breathed into Lucilla’s pointed ear, “I want you to push as hard as you can. Can you do that for me?”
Lucilla nodded, her violet eyes wet, but her pale lips smiling. Tera gave her a reassuring kiss on the nose, and Brandon pulled. Lucilla’s body wrenched, the muscles along her spine forming twitching shadows, her head flying back to yield a primal scream. Her pelvic floor jutted to a convex stretch of glistening flesh, the hole at its center dilating as it birthed Brandon’s exiting fist. Tera pressed on either side, her fingers massaging the contracting muscles around Lucilla’s gape, easing the tension, loosening the places where Lucilla was clenching in pain. The princess growled through gritted teeth, spit leaking from the corners of her mouth as Brandon’s hand stretched her to its maximum girth, and then came out. Her scream waned and sputtered, her body lurching as though cut from a great tension. Lucilla’s hole relaxed into a pathetic contraction that didn’t close, her body shuddering in abject relief.
“Push.” Tera whispered, and Lucilla complied, her pelvic floor popping with her exertion. She pushed, relaxed, and pushed again, the crease between her glutes distending, indenting, and distending again, her hole opening, constricting, and opening again with each effort. Tera worked the sides of the princess’s gape with deep, circling massages, and Lucilla’s ruined innards did the succubus’s bidding. They bulged from the flushed hole for a moment, a shy coil peaking from its home, and then came flowing out of her, flowering into a glistening rosebud of deep red. Lucilla melted into her master’s arms, grateful moans flowing from her lips, her body languid with euphoric exhaustion.
“Oh my god!” she sobbed, “That feels so good! Please Master, please touch me there!”
“Patience, Your Highness.” Tera chuckled, “Now that I have taught you, you must practice. Astrid, would you care to help the Bound One perfect her craft?”
Lucilla looked excitedly over at me, and all I could do was smile back. She rolled her body off Brandon’s lap, and into mine, sliding downward, licking her lips. Tera contorted herself in a marvelous display of flexibility, straddling Brandon as she stooped her back low, her stomach level with her spread thighs, her face level with Lucilla’s perked-up backside. Tera’s rosebud was shining purple from her plump, bronze cheeks, a creation of my own making, and Brandon ran his fingers through it as I slid my hand down his pants, and grasped the thing we’d all so rudely been neglecting. I felt his hard heat seep into my palm as I felt Lucilla’s tongue slide down the length of my taint, teasingly nearing the hole she’d soon be defiling. Her face disappeared below my pelvis, and her tongue pushed inside me. I moaned a lazy, blissful tone, dropped my head into the Life Giver’s lap, wrapped my lips around him, and did what I did better than anyone else.
Diamond stiffened beneath me, the opposite of what she should’ve done. Diamond should’ve been putty against my form, all grasping hands and needful moans. Something wasn’t right. I carefully lifted myself, wondering why it hadn’t worked, wondering what was wrong with me.
“Holy shit!” a familiar voice sputtered from Diamond’s mouth, “I am sick of living in the heads of girls who fuck their mothers!”
“Angela?!” I stared dumbfoundedly into familiar blue eyes, “Oh my god, Angela!” I hugged her, my lust completely gone, only the joy in seeing my old friend taking me now, “I missed you so much!”
“Justina,” Angela hissed, “get your tail out of my ass!”
“What, you don’t like it?” I sniggered in her ear, teasing her prostate a little.
“That’s beside the point!” Angela hissed again, though there was the hint of a moan there, “Right now, we need to figure out what the fuck’s going on!”
I reluctantly pulled my tail out of Angela’s (Diamond’s?) ass, smirking as Angela shuddered just a little. I sat upright, still straddled about her waist, and unbale to stop myself from taking an indulgent lick of the length of me that had just been inside her.
“You’re gross.” Angela wrinkled her nose.
“And you’re delicious.” I grinned, savoring the tang of her ass, “Now, why are you inside Diamond?”
“When Willowbud blew up the house, I darted for cover so that she wouldn’t see me.” Angela explained, “Sentients don’t see the same way as people do, so I couldn’t just hide behind a wall. I saw this… purple-ness within Diamond, and I knew it would hide me, so I shot into her. Only when I got in there, I realized I wasn’t in her mind, but in some secluded garden of the astral plane; I think it must be a fragment of Passion’s old realm. It was full of Diamond’s memories and feelings, but I couldn’t communicate with her, or leave. It wasn’t until you enslaved her, that I saw a way out.”
“That’s where Diamond must be now.” I frowned, “You need to get out of her body so that I can bring her back.”
“I’ve been trying!” Angela growled, “But I’m fucking stuck in here!”
“I can’t get out!” Angela snapped, “This is… shit… try enslaving me, see if that works.”
I seeped my seduction into Angela’s (Diamond’s) body, and her blue eyes began to change. They didn’t turn green, however, but my violet.
“Master.” She said, but it was Angela’s voice. I quickly changed her back, my heart thumping, the fear rising in my throat. Angela’s blue eyes stared up at me, wonder shining behind their lenses.
“What?!” I yelled.
“She left the garden,” Angela said in barely a whisper, “this is my body now.”
Sister Julia’s pale, sparkled back flexed in its painful curve, its arch compelled to deepen by the relentless drive of my hips, creating cute dimples about the base of her spine. Below that, her supple cheeks were deforming against my crotch, domes of sparkling fat encasing me in her warmth. Between them, my cock was being swallowed by her tight hole, her rim stretching along the length of me as I pulled, her pelvic floor indenting into a shadowed crease as I pushed, her shit-channel gripping and sucking me into her with all the avarice of a starving whore. My fingers pressed against her vaginal floor, squishing her division against my driving cock, sending a chaos of spasms into her nethers. Her shoulder blades jutted from her creamy canvas, tensed in the lurching throes of her motions, her arms stretched out in front of her, her wrists cuffed to the stone floor from the shackles I’d made of it. I grabbed a handful of crimson hair, and ripped her face back, staring into those pathetic, emerald irises, unfocused in a fugue state of unbridled ecstasy, red lips crying pathetic tones of her joyous surrender. Between her spread legs, her cock drooled strings of cum all over the carpeting she hadn’t yet singed, her abused prostate expelling its approval from her tip. Though Sister Julia’s insides felt like absolute heaven, I couldn’t help but feel a touch disappointed. There had been so much fight in her before, but now it seemed that it was all bluster. I’d fucked my fair share of devout virgins, and every single one of them was a masochistic anal slut exploiting the poop-hole loophole of the bible, and Julia wasn’t any different. Still, I was never one to be gracious in victory; kicking ‘em while they’re down is always fun.
“You pathetic, little cunt,” I laughed into her filmed-over eyes, “I’ve had succubi put up more of fight than you.”
“I’m just your anal bitch,” Sister Julia mumbled, as though possessed by some whorish demon that moved her mouth for her, “please punish me for being such an easy slut.”
“Open your mouth.” I hissed, and she did, sticking her tongue out and gaping a wide smile. I hawked spit, and let it drool from my lips into bubbling ball, the string lengthening, and then snapping, landing into Sister Julia’s awaiting mouth. She swallowed and smiled, grateful for my gift. I reared back a hand and slapped her hard across the face. She yelped delightedly, her hair flailing to the side, her head whipping with it, her insides clenching around me. She turned her face back up mine, red handprint across an apple cheek, red lips grinning. She grinded her ass against my crotch like she was wagging a tail, growling excitedly as she eagerly awaited more. I gave it to her. I slapped the begging bitch with my palm and the back of my hand, alternating cheeks, whipping her face to one side, then the other. Each time I did, she came back with that grin, her insides seizing around me, her wagging ass burying itself into my pelvis as my cock buried into her grateful shithole. My arm was starting to get tired, but Sister Julia wasn’t satisfied.
“More,” she grinned, her voice coming from her in a covetous purr, her eyes manic, “give me more!” What the fuck…
“You better milk the bull!” someone yelled. I looked up to see a writhing pile of flesh on the couch. Tera was straddled across Brandon, his cock buried in her cunt, both of his hands prying the succubus’s backdoor open so that Astrid could suck the purple flower that bulged from it. Astrid was torqued about the hips, her face planted between Tera’s cheeks, her pelvis elevated so that Princess Lucilla could feast upon the rosebud that had flowered from her ruined gape. Princess Lucilla squatted between Astrid’s bent legs, her porcelain backside spread wide, allowing Tera to complete the circle of prolapsed ass-eating. The princess turned over her shoulder, her lips glistening with Astrid’s secretion, her makeup a smeared ruin, her violet eyes crazed with Tera’s lust.
“If you don’t milk the bull, you’ll be sah-rry.” Lucilla giggled, singing the last word with some unhinged melody. She turned her attention back to her duties, her cryptic warning lost on me. Crazy bitch.
It occurred to me as I turned my attention back to Astrid, that I’d been in a semi-lesbian relationship for almost a month, and I’d never eaten pussy before. Astrid’s slit was flushed and glistening, pretty creases of pink pierced with golden studs, oozing above the flower I’d made of her asshole. I shuddered as Master’s reptilian tongue drew delectably through the petals of my own prolapse, tasting the folds of my protrusion, dipping her prodding member into the ovule of my bud. God, it was good. It was like every nerve within my sinful channel had been pulled outward, exposed to the elements and concentrated into a single bulge. Each pass of her practiced tongue made my legs weak, my spine tingle, my mouth moan. It took all my willpower to focus myself, and inch my face toward the delicacy I hungered for. I pressed my lips to the hood of Astrid’s pussy, and slid my tongue outward, testing the taste. My fingers trailed down her taint, clasping gently about her bulging innards and massaging them as I kissed her lower lips.
“Bound One,” she said, pausing her meal, staring inquisitively down at me, “is this your first time tasting a woman?”
“Yes.” I said without shame. Master’s enslavement didn’t allow for shame. Astrid’s grin shined from her face, excitement gleaming from her cold, blue eyes. She picked me up by the armpits like I was child, and spun me upside down, my thighs locking to the sides of her head, delighted giggles flowing from my mouth.
“Let me teach you.” Astrid’s muffled voice came as her nose pressed to my taint, and her lips brushed my slit. I stretched myself down her abdomen and dipped my head between her legs, eagerly awaiting her instruction. From the tops of my eyes, I saw that Willowbud was blatantly ignoring my advice. I grinned; she’d regret that.
My wrists were raw against Night Eyes’ binds, my knees scraped from the lurching of our bodies, my asshole a gaping ruin of abused flesh, stinging its wonderful pain deep into me. Spit leaked from my gritted teeth as I bucked in the throes of passion, driving my body back, growling my heinous delight as Night Eyes pierced me with brutal thrusts. I’d never been taken by an abusive lover before, and I absolutely reveled in it. There was nothing Night Eyes couldn’t do to me, no degradation that wouldn’t heighten my arousal, no humiliation I wouldn’t enjoy. My head fell between my outstretched arms, hair dangling in my face, cries flowing from my parted lips as I exalted into the stone beneath me. I strained in my binds, enchanted by my imprisonment, loving how little control I had, loving how vulnerable I was. Night Eyes took full advantage of my vulnerability. She procured her belt from her pants, and draped it threateningly over my shoulder. I shivered with anticipation, pushing my ass into her crotch and grinding it, clenching around her driving cock and beckoning, begging her to continue. She struck me, the leather lashing across my back, and my belly touched the stone as my spine wrenched, my voice crying its gratitude. She struck me again, and again and again, each blow landing on virgin flesh, each slap of leather sending stings deep into me, mingling their pain with the ecstatic agony of my anal violation, heightening the abuse, heightening the pleasure, bringing me closer, closer, closer. I wasn’t crying out from the whips anymore, but moaning for more, begging for more, shuddering as the pain became pleasure, my pussy oozing with it, my cock drooling from it, my ass clenching with it, my mind losing itself, going blank, the euphoria building, the pressure expanding, the feeling coming closer, closer, closer.
“More!” I begged, “More, more, more! Oh, Good Mother, MORE!”
Night Eyes tied the belt around my neck, making a leash of the slack as she cinched the collar tight, constricting my windpipe. “More!” I squeaked even as my lungs burned for air, as my face reddened.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Night Eyes hissed in my ear, her breath ragged with exhaustion, voice moaning as my soft innards rewarded her for the abuse. She planted a foot on the side of my face and pushed it to the ground, the leash tightening, one cheek pressing to cold stone, the other squished against her sole, my mouth squealing delightedly, my hips shimmying, grinding, pushing in contest with Night Eyes’ accelerating thrusts, trying to get her as deep into my sinful ruin as possible. She began pulling on the leash, pushing with her foot, her hips driving to a fervent cadence, compelling my body into a blur of jiggling pale flesh, forcing me to the precipice, forcing me closer, closer, closer. The pressure in my nethers built, the invasion of my cunt mingling with the perverse ecstasy of my shithole, the spasms in my rectum churning to a continuous convulsion, my cock curving backward as my prostate quaked, bringing me closer, closer, closer.
“More!” I screamed, my voice growing higher with each syllable, “More, more, more, more…”
Sister Julia’s back was a mosaic of welts, her pale ass was red with handprints, her cheeks were ruby with my strikes, and yet she begged for more. Even if I had my toys handy, I doubted I could’ve found the sister’s limit. She wasn’t the masochistic bimbo I thought she was; she was a sexual martyr. As I abused her, as I slapped, whipped and spanked, as I yanked, choked and ripped, I searched for the fear in her eyes, for the plea for mercy, but I didn’t find it. All I found in those emerald orbs, was the hopeful gaze of depravity, and the threat lurking behind it, that look I’d seen earlier, that promise of violence, of retribution, of revenge. I shouldn’t have ignored it; I should’ve milked the bull when it was docile. I was in the throes of sadistic lust, emptying my balls into Sister Julia’s convulsing asshole as she squealed her orgasm, when I saw the change move across her body. It started in her posture. She should’ve collapsed in exhaustion, but she didn’t. Instead, she stretched into a languid arch, the echoes of ecstasy twitching up her spine, her body extending like a waking feline, like a lioness at dawn. Then, I heard it in her voice. She should’ve been heaving spent breaths, but she wasn’t. Instead, I heard a low, soft chuckle, and I knew. I knew I should’ve milked the bull, because now, I was going to get the horn.
Sister Julia broke from her binds in flash of white, a sound like thunder ringing in my head as I was flung backward, my engorged cock pulling from her ruined gape as I landed on my back. Then, she was on me. Hands prying my legs apart, hot flesh melding into me, hot breath on my lips, in my nostrils, a sardonic laugh in my ear.
“We had a deal, Night Eyes,” Sister Julia chuckled, “now it’s time to hold up your end.”
I dug two sets of fingernails into her back and raked, but Sister Julia only laughed again; a sweet sound, a motherly sound, a terrifying sound. She pressed her mouth to mine, opening my sealed lips, wrapping her tongue with mine, making me melt into her despite myself. I couldn’t deny her, couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t stand fast in the fire of her passion. I opened my legs against my own will, my body betraying me, some dormant, weak part of me accepting my situation, some evolutionary echo that told me to submit to the alpha. I submitted. My deflated organ retreated within me to give the sister my femininity, but she just smiled around our sucking lips, and coerced me back out with her stroking hand, wanting to dominate me while I was partly male, wanting to show me that she was better than my strongest self. God, it turned me on. I grew hard in her hand, reached between us and spread my cheeks, arched my back and hummed my need, all despite myself. Take me, dominate me, humiliate me. Let me see your darkness. She pressed her tip against my virgin aperture, and pushed.
I gasped, gritting my teeth, letting go of my spread cheeks and sinking my nails into Sister Julia’s back. She didn’t punish me, or berate me, but whispered soft tones into my ear, petting my hair, wrapping her arm around my back and pressing out bodies closer together, holding me in a motherly hug. She rolled us into a sitting position, me straddled about her hips, my feet locked behind her ass as I sank slowly into her lap, my cock drooling down her stomach.
“Shhh, Night Eyes, shhh,” she cooed like a comforting mother as she lowered me inch by inch, “I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry. Open up to me, and relax; the pain only lasts for a moment.”
I tried to wiggle out of it, tried to escape the pain as it pierced me, but Sister Julia countered my every attempt with firm tenderness, like I was child she needed to softly discipline. Her cock bulged in my virgin rectum, expanding me, touching parts of me that had never been touched, awakening dormant nerves I didn’t know existed. God, the pain, but I couldn’t resist, couldn’t stop her from guiding me slowly downward, couldn’t look away from those emerald eyes as their stared lovingly, dominatingly. That was her brand of power, to make me feel weak, helpless and needing for her affection. I hated how effective it was, how I wanted her maternal touch inside me, but I couldn’t deny her; I couldn’t deny myself. Inch by inch, I lowered myself, sliding down her shaft, penetrating myself, torturing myself for her pleasure, for the motherly approval that I disgustingly coveted.
“You’re doing so well, Night Eyes,” Sister Julia breathed on my lips, her own quirked in a patronizing smirk, “just a little bit more to go.”
I didn’t cry out, or scream. I did barely more than gasp as I filled myself with her, as I let go and eased the last of her inside me. A shudder ran through me, a wave of relief and exhaustion, of accomplishment, of pathetic gratitude. I couldn’t stop the proud smile that crossed my lips, couldn’t stop the giggle that flowed from it as I looked adoringly into Sister Julia’s compassionate eyes.
“You did it,” she grinned at me, “you’re such a big girl.”
“Fuck you, Sister.” I moaned through my smile, shifting in her lap, feeling oddly like a daughter sitting in her father’s.
“All your friends are watching, Night Eyes,” Sister Julia grinned, “and they’re all so proud of you.”
Sister Julia rotated me about my penetrative axis, causing me to hiss as my ass stirred around her. They were all watching me, staring with wide eyes, paused in their lust to bear witness to something they’d never seen before; my defeat, my submission. I hated the looks they gave, the cracks in their perception of me. Mostly, I hated the looks in Astrid and Brandon’s eyes.
“Don’t look,” I whispered to them, the words barely coming from me, “turn away.”
“Why would they do that?” Sister Julia whispered as she began to thrust, as she began to stroke, “Don’t you want them to see you like this?”
“Stop.” I breathed.
“You don’t want me to stop.” Sister Julia breathed into my ear as she softly raped me. She was right. I planted my feet onto the floor, feeling cold stone, feeling the connection, but I had no desire to fight. Instead, I pivoted my weight, and began grinding my hips, pushing my ass into her crotch with sinuous passes, my hands stabilizing me on her slowly-driving thighs, my lips breathing moans too faint to hear. Oh my god, the way she felt in my ass, the wrongness of it, the way it made me feel exposed, weak, at her mercy. The way she touched me from the inside, subdued me, hurt me, pleased me. The power she had over me, and the way she used it to make me feel so good, to make me feel things I didn’t want to, to make me like the things I didn’t want to like.
“Look at Brandon,” Sister Julia hissed, “it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time.”
“Call to him. Tell him how I make you feel.” Sister Julia kissed my neck as I rested my head on her shoulder, stretching my body, presenting it to her, begging her to run her hands over what I was giving her, over what she owned. She slid her hands along the flexing expanse of my curved abdomen, cupping my breasts, squeezing them. I whimpered. I whimpered my gratitude like a weeping whore, and I called to my boyfriend.
“Brandon!” I croaked, “She makes me feel so good!”
Brandon was staring fixedly at me, a look of astonishment in his eyes. He still fucked Tera, but he was looking at me, only me, as I twisted and writhed to the Heat Bringer’s puppetry.
“He likes seeing you like this,” Sister Julia giggled, pushed her cock with long, slow passes, making me feel every inch she had to offer, allowing my channel to relax before she mercilessly stuffed it again, “I take it you’re not a generous lover? Relationships are all about give and take, Night Eyes; it’s not a power game, not like what we have. What we have is special.”
Brandon brought Tera against him, facing away like I was to Sister Julia. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, a smile creasing her purple lips. She watched me closely as she repositioned herself, as she pulled him out of her cunt, squatted over him, and pushed her innards back inside with a low moan. She mimicked me, dancing a pathetic writhe as I did, mirroring my motions as Brandon watched me, only me, the avarice, the possessive desire, a look he’d never given me before.
“He never made you feel like this, did he?” Sister Julia chuckled.
“No.” I confessed with a shudder, wrapping my hands together behind her head, twisting my hips, locked into her sensual domination, unable to free my mind or body, and slowly realizing I didn’t want to. Her lust was inevitable, undeniable. Every pathetic attempt at escape was countered with a gentle pull here, a slow thrust there, bringing me back, making me feel sorry for even trying, thanking her for stopping me.
“Tell him,” Sister Julia hissed, “tell him that I’m better.”
“Say it.” She hissed, grabbing my hips and forcing me into her lap, forcing every inch of her inside, tearing through my rectum, bulging in my colon, squishing my prostate against my anal wall. She didn’t even have to touch my cock, and yet I came. I came with a scream, trying to buck my hips, but held fast by Julia’s embrace, the immobility somehow making the orgasm even better. I trembled from head to toe, my body rigid and plastered to Sister Julia, my teeth gritting through the intensity, my eyes rolling back as I choked on my ecstasy, as I showered myself with my own seed. It splattered on my belly, on my breasts, on my face, and on my lips, and I licked it, reveling in my defilement, relishing the taste of me.
“She’s better than you! You never made me feel this good!” I practically sobbed. She throbbed against my prostate, causing my cock to stay hard even as it pulsed and leaked, cum oozing from its tip like lava, my balls still quaking, the orgasm not ending. Oh, god… oh god! Brandon’s jaw twitched as watched me come, his cock curving backward inside Tera’s ruined, purple gape, his eyes dancing with an arousal I’d never seen on him before. It seemed my boyfriend had something of a cuckhold fetish.
“Call for Astrid,” Sister Julia commanded softly, “tell her to come here.”
“Astrid!” I cried, sliding up and down Sister Julia’s length, feeling myself open and constrict, feeling every change in girth as it ravaged me, as I willingly raped myself.
“Mistress?” Astrid called, her voice unsure.
“No, no, no,” Sister Julia chuckled, “that won’t do at all. Tell Astrid that when I’m inside you, you are no longer ‘Mistress.’ You are ‘whore.’”
“Astrid!” I screamed, “When Sister Julia is inside me, I’m not your mistress; I’m your whore!”
Through blurred eyes I saw her walk over to me, her gait apprehensive at first, but then turning to a confident strut as she neared me, white wings spreading behind a tattooed beauty; the monster I had made. She knelt before me, studying me with curious eyes, running a hand along my shaft as it oozed the last of my cum from its tip. She took a drop on her finger, brought it to her mouth, and sucked it, her luscious lips pursing and creasing in a smile.
“Well, whore,” she grinned, “I have needs that require attending.”
She turned around, spread, and pushed her prolapse against my gaping lips. I wrapped them around her, and I sucked it, tasting the sweet tang of her, droning my hedonistic hunger as I rotated my mouth and pushed my tongue inside. Her glutes enveloped my face, her hands rested on my shoulders, and she moaned as I moaned, as I was trapped in the splendor of my humiliation, still grinding atop the woman defiling me, her hands gripping my breasts, her lips whispering loving hatred into my ear.
“I came here to kill you, Night Eyes, and that is what I am going to do.” Sister Julia’s words poured from her as I mindlessly sucked Astrid’s insides, “You are the chain that holds my sister to Corruption, and I am going to break you. That’s what you are to me, Willowbud; my sister. Different of blood but kindred of spirit, and you will only find love from me. But you, Night Eyes; you will only find death from me. When you are but embers in an ash pile, and the meld has snapped, there will no ‘you;’ only Corruption, without her shield. Can you hear me, most ancient one? The Destroyer has you cornered.”
Sister Julia thrusted with more fervency now, moving in and out, in and out; exiting and entering me, letting my shithole close, and then forcing me open, desecrating my depths, and repeating. Her breath was getting hot on my neck now, her heart fluttering against her breasts as they flattened to my back, her stomach twitching against the base of spine, layers of muscle away from where she was piercing me.
“Do you want to see a magic trick, Your Holiness?” I heard Lucilla’s mocking voice. She made my cock disappear down her throat, and through gurgled tones I heard her say, “Ta-dah!” but I was too enamored with my captivity to care. I sucked Astrid and thrusted into Lucilla, my cock leaking once again, compelled to flow by the unyielding abuse of my anal organ, convulsing, spasming, reflecting the nature of my ruined rectum as every nerve began to electrify, burning their signals into my filthy depths. I screamed against Astrid’s turned-out shithole, and the sound sung through her depths and from her mouth, carried by her own voice as she began to heave with her own ascension. I sunk my hands into the supple fat of her ass and spread wider, pushing my face deeper, my nostrils filled with the scent of her, my mouth sucking stupidly as my mind went blank. The feeling built, wound tighter, drove relentlessly to the greatest heights, and burst. I molded against Sister Julia, every part of me contouring to her form as ecstasy ravaged me, made a slave of my body, of my mind. She cried out as she filled me, her seed pouring its molten delight into my twitching channel, seeping warmth into my bowels. Astrid spurted her pleasure from her womanhood, leaking it down my chin as her convulsing rectum sucked back into her. Lucilla greedily slurped the few droplets I had left to give her, feeding from my member even as it deflated in exhaustion. Faintly, I could hear Tera and Brandon vocalizing their ascension in a chorus of escalating cries, but my mind was focused on only one person now.
Astrid lifted from my face, looking over her shoulder with terror in her eyes, realizing what she’d just done, but I barely registered that she was there. She hurriedly took Lucilla by the hand and pulled her away, hoping to escape before my wrath sought her out. There was no wrath in me, however. Only breath. One breath, then another, the gasps echoing in my mind, my ears seemingly closed from the world. One perfect breath, one perfect heartbeat, one perfect moment of bliss, enjoying my defeat more than I’d enjoyed any victory. I looked over my shoulder, and into the emerald eyes of the one who had who had owned me. There was only kindness there now, only affection and endearment. She cupped my cheek and ran a thumb over my dimple, over my lips, tracing their outline. Our faces met once again, but we didn’t devour each other combatively. We kissed with love, with empathy, with an understanding only we knew. We were kindred spirits, we were sisters, we were broken women with blood on our hands. There was pain in Sister Julia, pain I understood, pain that had scarred to darkness. Now she tasted my darkness, and I tasted hers, and we both liked the flavor. Sister Julia kissed me like a lover, like a sister, and Corruption kissed her back through my lips. Oh, there was darkness in Sister Julia, there was evil. Sister Julia should’ve killed me when she had the chance, because now…
…she was mine.
“Oh my god,” Justina said her voice quivering, “Julia is going to kill me!”
I might’ve shared in Justina’s horror, were I not possessed with dumbfounded amazement. I lifted my hand, and there was no filter to delay the motion, no host acting as a barrier between the thought and the action. I lifted my hand, mine! I curled the fingers, and the tendons reacted without hesitation, the nerves signaling directly to me. I felt the bedding, Justina’s flesh, the stiff air of the brothel, and it was only me feeling it, feeling it through no one else’s thoughts, no one else’s perception. These were my eyes, not lenses from which to watch, but eyes with which to see; to really see! I was alive. I. Was. Alive.
“…maybe I should run away? Where would I go? Drastin is the only city that lets succubi work as prostitutes. Would Willowbud protect me? Could she? Maybe if we explain, maybe if we-”
“I’m alive!” I screamed, “I. Am. Alive!”
I bolted upright and wrapped my arms around Justina, pulling into her hug, feeling the unfiltered warmth of another for the first time in years. I bounded off the bed, and immediately collapsed. Bipedal motion hadn’t been my mode of transportation for a long time, and standing was a foreign feeling. I scraped my knees on the floor, smacked my forehead on the dresser, and laughed as the pain came to me. Oh, sweet pain; sweet, wonderful pain! I got onto wobbly feet and shaking knees, letting old memories come back to me, learning to stand again, and then daring my first step. I. Was. Walking. I was walking, then I was strutting, then I was skipping, hopping, and dancing. I was all arms and legs, Diamond’s natural grace not inherited by me, and I struck my elbows against corners and stubbed my toes, but I didn’t give a shit. I felt the exhilarating beat of my heart, the sweet inhalation of air, the sting of sweat and the burning of muscle, and I loved it all. There were tears in my eyes, and I vaguely realized I was laughing manically, but I was too rapt with the euphoria to care. I danced, jumped, and sprinted back and forth until I thought my heart would give out, then dove with arms outstretched onto the bed, and sank into the comfort of blankets and pillows, my mind racing as I enjoyed the sweet relief of relaxation.
“You done?” Justina’s voice came to me, “Because you know you can’t keep that body, right?”
“Yes,” I sighed into the bedding, “you party-pooper.”
“Good,” Justina sighed as I rolled over on my back, still smiling stupidly, “I was worried that you might never give it back.”
“She’s pawning it to me,” I grinned, “if Diamond doesn’t come back for it in a week, it’s legally mine.”
“If you survive a week.” Justina scowled. I could only giggle. Death was no stranger to me. “We need to hide your eyes and voice,” Justina said, getting up and rummaging through her drawer, “I have some cosmetic astral beings you can meld with. Hopefully that ‘purple-ness’ you described will keep Corruption from seeing you.”
“Have you made any progress with Willowbud and Corruption?” I asked Justina as she handed me two gemstones. Her face turned red, and she bit her lip guiltily. “You haven’t even been trying, have you?” I sat up, and narrowed my eyes. God, it felt good to narrow my eyes. I squinted at her just for the fun of it. Shame, you whore, SHAME! Squirm beneath the scorn of my narrowed eyes! Mwhahahahah!
“Willowbud’s settled down since she and Brandon became a thing,” Justina said, wringing her hands nervously as my eyes turned to slits, “and… well… what can I say, Angela; I’m a slut, OK? I can’t control myself when penis is available, and I live in a fucking brothel! I don’t have time do research when a new penis is always knocking at my door!”
Justina sighed, exasperated, and sat beside me on the bed, her shoulders slouched.
“I managed to get tomes from the library, and I found a few texts about Sorrow, and quite a few on Wrath, but nothing on Corruption. Most ‘experts’ don’t even think Sentients are real, despite evidence to the contrary. It’s just…” Justina trailed off as her eyes wandered to my lap. I cleared my throat nervously, and crossed one leg over the other. Having a penis was still very foreign to me. The rest of Diamond, I understood; even the antlers didn’t feel that strange, but the penis was difficult to grapple with. It felt so out of place, so unwieldy, so… aggressive. There wasn’t any bone, nor muscle, yet it was more than just the cartilage of the nose or ears. It was a nerve-swathed growth of blood and tissue, and now I understood why every man said their dick had mind of its own; this thing acted independently of me. It was an appendage I had no control over, and as it stiffened between the warmth of my pressing thighs, I realized that it had some control over me.
“Continue.” I said to Justina, clearing my throat again (where had I picked up that affectation?). Justina gave me an inquisitive look, and then began speaking, but I wasn’t listening. Did I just notice how pretty she was? I’d been in her head for weeks, I’d even eaten her out the first day we met, but had I ever seen her like… this? That black hair surrounding curved horns, those big eyes, that long neck, those small, but cute breasts, the little rolls of fat over her belly as she slouched, the way her butt protruded from her back, the way it creased down the middle just below her tail, shadowed, barely hiding the lewd options between her cheeks. Goddamn, I was practically stabbing myself. How did men live like this?
“…but I don’t think Corruption responds to the physical pain of her host,” Justina’s voice droned back to focus, “I think an emotional strike is needed to dislodge her, but I don’t know what. Astrid said guilt was what freed Willowbud from Corruption the first time, but there must be some mechanism within the brain that breaks the meld. Emotions are just chemical reactions, after all, so if we could find the right trigger… Maybe a drug of some sort would work? Or a competing astral being? Angela?”
“Yes.” I replied dumbly, and then before Justina could berate me, “But we have more pressing matters. What am I going to do about Lucilla and Julia? I might look and sound like Diamond, but I don’t exactly act like her.”
“Yeah, that is a problem,” Justina mused, tapping her chin, “not to mention, you’ll also have to have sex with them to keep up appearances.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?” Justina asked, “They’re both beautiful, and if women aren’t to your taste, Julia would be more than happy to give you some man.”
“I’m a virgin,” I said quietly, face growing red, “I never took control when you were fucking; I always just sat in the passenger seat.”
“Well,” Justina licked her lips, scooching over to me, “we can solve that problem right-”
“I’m saving myself for Brandon.” I muttered. Justina stopped sharply, her eyes widening, her smile growing devilish. I pouted my lips as my face went even redder.
“After all that shit you gave me for fucking my mom,” Justina hissed, grin broadening, “and I’m a succubus, Angela; I have an excuse. You’re a human, well, now you’re not, but-”
“I’m a Sentient,” I interrupted, “and if I don’t bind, I’ll stay a Sentient. I don’t know why I can’t leave this body, but I know that if it dies, I won’t die with it. Nothing’s changed. I still have to do what I have to.”
“Then why the embarrassment?” Justina sniggered, “Is it because now that you have a body, and all the needs that come with it, you realize that your nightly sessions of watching Brandon jerk it weren’t just sisterly curiosity? Maybe, they were something…” Justina glanced at the boner I was vainly hiding between my thighs, “…more?”
“I forgot how much of a bitch you are.” I grumbled. Justina laughed at that.
“Well, you certainly can’t bind with Brandon while you’re in Diamond’s body,” Justina said, “because than it really would become your body, and the Heat Bringer would be none-to-pleased that you just effectively killed her daughter. I also would be pretty pissed; I like Diamond.” Justina chewed her lip as she looked me over, “I guess you’ll have to just stay with me. Pretend you’re Diamond, and that you’ve fallen madly in love with me. Julia and Lucilla couldn’t deny your blossoming romance, and you’d have reason to always be with me, where your secrets are safe.”
“Hmm…” I narrowed my eyes at Justina again (God, that’s fun to do), “I can’t tell if you’re being a good friend, or just fulfilling a fantasy. Exactly how much do you ‘like’ Diamond? Should I start shopping for a wedding dress?”
“I forgot how much of a bitch you are.” Justina grumbled, and I grinned back.
“I think I liked it better when they wanted to kill each other.” I frowned over my shoulder. Julia’s bathrobe was pulled to her hips, her face a portrait of contentment as Willowbud straddled her ass, pushing massaging thumbs into her welted back. They’d been hostile when they first met, then they’d fucked like they were trying to stab each other to death, and now they were… what? Friends? More? Go back to hating each other, damnit!
“I didn’t peg you as the jealous type.” Brandon said next to me on the balcony, struggling with a lighter as he tried to start a joint.
“I’d peg you if I didn’t think you wanted Julia to do the honors.” I grumbled. Brandon laughed at that. The balcony had once been a porch, I guessed, but now it overlooked a stunning view of Drastin. Below us, the street was packed with the tens of thousands, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the new gods.
“You know, I also wanted to kill Willowbud when I first met her,” Brandon shrugged, “but then I stuck my dick inside her, and suddenly, she didn’t seem so bad. I guess she just has that effect on people.”
“You really are a dumbass.” I said flatly. He just grinned back.
“Everyone keeps telling me that,” he winked, “and yet, I somehow manage to get inside every single one of them. Hey Julia,” he called over his shoulder, “you want to smell my knuckles? They smell like,” he eyed me as he took a dramatic whiff, “royalty.”
“Oh, fuck you, peasant.” I giggled as Julia laughed from her lounging position, Willowbud chuckling atop her. Brandon gave his lighter a few more frustrated flicks, then offered Julia a needful glance, and the roll ignited in his mouth. He grinned at me through a skunky cloud.
“How about that? The first joint project between the Heat Bringer and the Life Giver is literally, well…” he passed me the joint, and I took a deep inhale, before hacking out a lung.
“Holy (cough) shit!” I sputtered, “What in the (cough) fuck did you…” I trailed off as the warm bliss gained purchase in my mind, and a goofy grin peeled across my face.
“It’s my own strain,” Brandon grinned, eyes redder than Julia’s hair, “I’ve been perfecting it for weeks. This, Your Highness, will be my great legacy. Trenok has the Garden Tower, Dawnbark has Arbortus, Rayson has the Walking Oasis, and I have this: Towerhead Chronic.”
“Truly, your achievement dwarfs all that came before it,” I said with a wheezy voice as I took another puff, “but why would you name anything after that shithole?”
“Why does everyone call it that?” Brandon sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t they see the small-town charm?”
“It’s a destitute shithole one drought away from being abandoned.” I countered, passing the joint, “I felt like I was going to be raped or stabbed every time I crossed the one street there was.”
“Ah, home sweet home.” Brandon said unironically, cherry burning between his lips. He glanced over his arm of the couch, the edge of which was in line with a vertigo-inducing, five-hundred-foot drop. He didn’t seem to mind, but I was content with staying where I was, away from the precipice.
“They don’t even know my name yet,” he mused, looking at the crowd, “but they call for me. Why do they think that I want to be worshipped?”
“Do you want to be worshipped?” I asked, both to Brandon, and partly to myself. I’d been called ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Grace’ for most of my life, but I was always a royal afterthought, regulated to “managing” an estate; I’d been spoiled, but never revered. I didn’t know how to feel about people worshipping me for being the ‘Bound One.’
“I wouldn’t mind them sending their virgin daughters up here,” Brandon chuckled, easing back, “but I honestly hate the attention. I never was good with people.” Brandon’s bloodshot eyes grew distant for a moment, “I never had any friends in Towerhead; not real friends, anyway. I was clueless with women, bad at sports, and terrible at school, so I didn’t even fit-in with the nerds. If I didn’t have Angela, I would’ve had no one. God knows what would’ve happened if I never went to Tera’s; I’d probably still be in my bed, jerking my frustration into a stiff sock.”
“You have such a way with words,” I swooned with a giggle, “how did the maidens of Towerhead ever resist you?” Brandon offered another retaliatory sniff of his knuckles, and I only giggled more. I liked him. He was as down to earth as he was salt of the earth, and had the potential for humble greatness; the perfect Life Giver, if there ever was one. He did have one glaring flaw, however.
“I guess opposites really do attract,” I said carefully, “you and Willowbud are about as different as two people can be.”
“So are you and Julia,” Brandon countered, “though, now that I’ve gotten to know her, I’m beginning to think the gulf between you two isn’t as large as it seemed at first glance.”
“It didn’t used to be like that,” I took the joint from Brandon’s fingers, “I used to be the crazy one. Julia likes to pretend she’s still an innocent, god-fearing nun, but she hasn’t been that person since I stuck a finger up her ass.” I laughed, but the mirth died to a frown, “Maybe the façade was always there,” I muttered, more to myself than Brandon, “maybe I just missed it. She was quite the trouble-make before she joined the convent.” My frown deepened, “She was a murderer before I even knew her.”
“To murderous girlfriends,” Brandon toasted my lit joint with a freshly-rolled one, “may they always love us just enough to not kill us.”
“Here, here!” I heard Willowbud chuckle. I frowned down at my feet, bare against the stone patio. How much could she hear?
“God, I can’t wait to go to Arbortus,” Brandon sighed, “Drastin just isn’t for me; I need the fresh air to keep me sane. You know what? I’m going to go back to Towerhead when I’m old and wizened, and I’m going to turn that place around. I will plant vast fields of Towerhead Chronic, and make that ‘shithole’ the weed destination of Drastinar. I will grow a long beard, yes, and I will go bald, but I won’t shave the stuff off the sides! No, I will grow it out long, and braid it around my shiny crown so that a bird will nest in it. I will wear a robe that constantly opens in the front no matter how tightly I tie the belt, so that any fortunate passerby may bear witness to my divine, sagging sack. I will live in a hut at the top of the hill, maybe a treehouse, actually, and then I will heal the afflicted for the price of one terrible pun. I will-”
“Holy shit, shut up!” Willowbud yelled from Julia’s back.
“And you will be by my side,” Brandon grinned, undeterred, “my little nymph wife skipping with me through the marijuana fields, with about three-dozen kids in tow because babe, we are going to be pumping, them, out! I want two baseball teams by the time I’m forty. I want so many of the little fuckers that we just start giving them numbers instead of names. I want-”
“A vasectomy.” Willowbud replied, “Because I’m not moving to the fucking country to become a breed mare while you get high with the forest critters.”
“For a nymph, you really hate the outdoors.” Brandon frowned, “Aren’t you people supposed to be all about flowers and trees and shit? Don’t you people worship the Life Giver? The way I see it, you should be on your knees and-ok-I’m-sorry-please-stop-ow!”
Brandon had visibly risen an inch off his seat, which I now realized was made of stone beneath the cushion, because of course it was.
“That counts!” he squeaked, a stupid, triumphant grin across reddening face, “We have a deal, and you just blew your wad! I get butt tonight!”
“Sister Julia took that deal off your plate,” Willowbud smirked, “and after her, I’m afraid the best you can do is disappoint me.” Willowbud’s eyes drifted lazily to me, black orbs leering as she ran her hand down Julia’s back. Were I not high as I kite, I might’ve bull-rushed the bitch.
“That may be the case,” Brandon squeaked, “but Sister Julia won’t toss your salad beforehand, and I will. I’ll treat you like the queen of ass-now-please-get-this-fucking-rock-out-of-my-shitter!”
Willowbud stared at Brandon for a moment, her face pinched. Then it relaxed into an adoring smile, and I saw genuine love in her black pits. It looked more out of place than a priest in a brothel, but there it was, as clear as day: love. Brandon sighed as he was eased down, his red face lightening, returning to its beige hue. He matched Willowbud’s affectionate gaze, took a deep rip of his joint, and said, “There’s a fire ant colony in your hair.” and Willowbud went screaming into the bathroom as she swatted at the hundreds of insects descending her scalp.
“Sometimes, our relationship has its rough patches,” Brandon sighed as the shower sounded, drowning-out the torrent of shrieks, “but damn, I really might love that woman.”
“She’s going to make you pay for that.” I said, happy that Brandon did it, but concerned for him. He just grinned back at me.
“God, I hope so. You see, being in a relationship with a corrupted deity requires a certain amount of testicular fortitude. If you don’t fight back, then you’re just her slave.”
“Slavery can be quite enjoyable, if you have the right master.” I smirked at Brandon, glancing at his knuckles.
“What was it like?” Julia asked me, resting her head in her hands, her elbows on the carpet.
“Amazing.” I grinned, “It was like being drunk with sex. I had no inhibitions, or limits, and even the pain felt like heaven. Tera and Astrid also taught me a few things that I would love to teach you tonight.”
“Do you think it would be something Diamond might like to learn?” Julia asked.
"I think it might be a little advanced for her." I snickered, "Let Sparkles graduate middle school before we take her to college."
"Speaking of which, where is Diamond?”
“Still with her new succubus girlfriend.” I crinkled my nose at Julia, “She missed all the fun! I wonder what they’ve been doing in there for so long? You don’t think…” I dawned an expression of parental concern, “you don’t think she’s experimenting with monogamy, do you?”
Julia gasped with faux-mortification, “Good Mother! Monogamy?! Not while she’s my daughter! I’m going in there right now to put an end to that!” she stood up, pulled off her bathrobe, and walked away, her perfect, pale ass bulging with each sparkling cheek. She turned around, and gave Brandon and I a wicked grin. “It’s just not natural.” Then she rounded the corner.
“Holy shit.” Brandon muttered, hard as a rock. We shared a look, and that was it.
“…I just think you should nip this in the bud, because you know it’s going to be worse if you wait.” I explained to Astrid, holding out the whip, nipple clamps, candles, and oversized butt plug, “If you take the initiative and beg for forgiveness now, then it will lessen the abuse later.”
“But…” Astrid frowned, taking my box of goodies, “but I like the abuse.”
“Astrid, you called Willowbud a whore, and shoved your asshole in her mouth.” I said frankly, “If you let her stew over it, she isn’t going to tickle you; she’s going to brand your ass with a hot iron. I’m trying to be your friend right now.”
Astrid twisted her lips, and sighed. “You’re right,” she mumbled, going to her closet and getting her slave outfit, “I definitely crossed the line. Thank you, Tera.”
We shared a parting kiss, I wished her good luck, then I pulled on the coat I hated so much, and went to fetch Lucilla. The princess had her middle finger up Brandon’s ass, encouraging the thrusts he delivered between her spread legs, her supple body jiggling from her opened bathrobe as she lay on her back, squealing in delight. Both their eyes were redder than the devil’s dick, and their gaping mouths were curled in goofy grins as they expelled their pleasure.
“Right now?” she moaned at me. She was on the couch, her body cushioned from the stone.
“I bought us an hour,” I frowned, hoping my plush slippers would keep me muted, “I don’t know when I can buy us another. Yes, right now. Where’s Julia?”
“She’s a terrible liar,” Lucilla gasped, wrapping her legs around Brandon’s driving hips, “best leave her out of it.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Brandon asked.
“You’re going to meet your future mother-in-law,” I said, “and convince her not to throw an impromptu family reunion. Now be a dear, and bust that nut. Oh,” I smiled sheepishly, “and let me have some, please.”
Willowbud, in her twisted, yet childish sense of humor, had made her tower traversable by water slide. The three of us screamed our lungs out as we spiraled down the fifty stories of smoothed-over stone, our asses barely touching the jetted surface as we neared terminal velocity. The chute ended in a gut-wrenching drop that sent us barreling into a pool below, our shrieks echoing until they were silenced by the sudden splash. Thankfully, Willowbud’s pool did not exit onto the street, but led to a tunnel beneath it, allowing us to pass the tens of thousands that had gathered outside the tower. We surfaced from a grate in an abandoned tavern, dried ourselves off with thoughtfully-placed towels, and made our way to my safehouse.
Two sets of broken shackles were strewn about the floor, one ripped cleanly from the wall by someone of great strength. I hissed and dropped to a crouch, eyes darting to the corners, to the shadowed stairwell, to the pylons, but no… that’s no where a Valkyrie would attack from. My eyes slowly tracked the ceiling, to the hole in the sunroof. Freydis hadn’t set an ambush for me. Freydis and Flora had gone. In my haste to get to Brandon before Willowbud or Julia, I had forgotten to touch Freydis. The day had expired, and she had awoken.
“Tera?” Lucilla asked, her voice wavering, “Should we go back, like, right the fuck now?!”
“She isn't lying in wait, and she hasn't gone to the brothel,” I said, studying the scene, “she's taken Flora, and Flora will try to seek me out for another twelve hours or so.” I frowned at the shackles, “Freydis will have to secure her for that duration, but afterward... What kind of a woman is Freydis, Lucilla? Can she be reasoned with if it comes to confrontation?”
“Will it come to that?”
This was the second time today I was panicking while the Heat Bringer knocked on my door, and I hadn’t gotten used to it.
“I’m not ready to be Diamond!” I hissed at Justina, “What do we do?!”
“Ah, fuck… pretend to be asleep!” Justina hissed back, dousing the lamp. We curled beneath the covers, closed our eyes, and began snoring. Justina spooned me as the doorknob turned, and whispered, “Click your tongue if you want me to enslave you; it might make it easier.”
The door opened with a foreboding creak. “Diamond? Justina?” Julia called into the darkness. Justina shifted sleepily next to me, nestling her body against my curve.
“…wha?” she croaked, as though just waking.
“Were you two asleep?” Julia had a sweet smile in her voice, “It’s not even seven!”
“We wore each other out.” Justina chuckled drowsily, trying to convince Julia to leave by showing how tired she was. It didn’t work. The door opened wider, the dusk light bathing us. Through slit eyes, I saw the silhouette of a naked woman, a very non-womanly shadow hanging between her legs. Shit I groaned sleepily, pulled the pillow over my head and curled into a ball, doing everything I could to dissuade my ‘mother’ from coming nearer. Her footsteps came all the same.
“You haven’t eaten since morning, baby,” Julia voice came closer and closer, “you must be so hungry.”
I felt the mattress sink as someone sat beside me on the bed, the weight pulling the covers from my shoulders, leaving me exposed to the waist. I clutched the pillow tighter, pressing it hard against my face, trying to block out the world, feeling my heart thunder against my breastbone, feeling physically vulnerable for the first time in ages.
“Diamond?” Julia’s voice had a touch of concern, “Justina, did you do something to her?”
“I did all kinds of things to her.” Justina laughed, but even I could hear the fear in it. The façade was cracking, and I had to act before it shattered. I took a steeling breath, pulled the pillow from my face, and opened my eyes. Julia didn’t look like a terrifying deity of immeasurable power; she looked like a loving mother staring adoringly at her doting daughter. I watched her, waiting for her to see through the ruse, but she just smiled compassionately, and ran a hand through my hair.
“What did you and Justina do?” she asked softly, her emeralds brimming from her gentle face. They were disarming eyes, kindly in a way only a mother’s could be. I eased myself into the role, recalling the memories and emotions Diamond left in her astral garden, trying to piece-together a personality I could use.
“We did stuff with our mouths,” I giggled, mimicking Diamond’s sonorous laugh to the note, “and then I had sex with her butthole.” Diamond hadn’t quite grasped situational language yet, so I made sure to affect that.
“That seems to be the theme of today.” Julia chuckled warmly, “How did you like it?”
“It was really tight.” I stretched lazily, and then giggled again, “It felt so good.”
“She’s so submissive,” Justina laughed, pulling me into her arms, “but after some gentle persuasion, I got her hips moving.”
“She enslaved me.” I grinned at Julia, “It was like I was a different person.”
“I’m starting to get jealous of all this enslaving,” Julia smiled, moving her face closer to mine, “it sounds so fun. It sounds like what your… mother…” Julia trailed off, a little twinkle in her eye, “never mind.” She cupped my face with her hand, running an affectionate thumb over my chin, “Are you hungry?” she asked, and as if on cue, Diamond’s stomach growled its response, betraying me. “I guess you are,” she giggled, lying down beside me, taking my head in her hands, and pulling my face closer. Sparkling, creamy flesh filled my vision, the glistening, pink point of a nipple leaking milk. Justina clicked her tongue, seeing if I’d respond in kind, but I didn’t. This was just dinner, right? I could handle this. Nothing sexual about sucking on some tit; babies do it every day and nobody bats an eye. Of course, my body wasn’t getting the message. I turned myself toward Julia, bending my knees beneath the covers, narrowly avoiding pitching a tent in the sheets. She arched her back, presented her breast, and I wrapped my lips around mommy’s nipple, and began to suck. Sweet, warm nectar flooded my mouth, and I closed my eyes like a nursing babe as I savored the taste, savored the feeling of Julia’s breast pillowing against my muzzle. There was no doubt about it; the male side of my new body was heterosexual. I had yet to determine if the female side followed suit, but this dick felt close to bursting.
“My, my, you were hungry.” a soothing mother’s voice leaked into my ear, a gentle hand clasped the back of my head, bringing me closer. I rotated my lips contentedly, a purring sound tremoring from my chest, escaping my occupied mouth in a low hum. I realized too late that what I was doing, was moaning. I opened my eyes, and saw Julia’s shining down on me, desire glinting in them, my unintended message well-received. Shit.
“You know, Diamond,” Julia voice seemed heavier now, “I don’t know if Aunt Lucilla ever told you this about me, but my favorite place to have sex with a man, is in my butt.”
“I don’t why I like it so much,” Julia’s other hand was sliding along the curve of my belly, “maybe it’s because Mother Septina called it, ‘the devil’s hole,’ and it feels so naughty.” Julia giggled as her hand slid lower, “Maybe it’s because it hurts, and Mommy’s female side likes the pain.” Julia’s hand moved to my pelvis, “Maybe it’s because it’s dirty, and deep down, I want to be a dirty girl.”
Justina clicked her tongue again, but I couldn’t think of a graceful way to click back with a nipple between my lips. Maybe I didn’t want to click back. Maybe I wanted to see where this would go. Maybe I liked the way Julia’s cool fingers felt wrapped around my stiff cock, maybe I liked the smell of her, the taste of her, the low sigh in her chest as she began to stroke me, as if relieved to be doing so. Oh, fuck. So, this is what it felt like to have another want to touch you, to have another want to pleasure you, to have another want you inside of them. I was shocked at how little control I had over myself, how my mind and body were compelled by some undeniable force to bend, press and taste. I wasn’t just nursing from Julia now, but flicking her pert nipple with my tongue, grinning around it as she giggled at the feeling, her body curving to mine, her belly pressing to mine, her thighs interlocking with mine, her… hello, penis. And there was my feminine sexuality, as straight as an arrow. Julia’s (much larger) cock slid beneath mine, the shaft running through my slit, parting my folds, wetting with the lust that oozed from me. Oh god, did I want it. Oh, god… It became immediately obvious to me that I was much more female than I was male. That part of me wasn’t just goading me like the male part was, but screaming, demanding, commanding. I knew Diamond could take every inch of her mother; I’d seen those memories. I knew Diamond loved it.
“Diamond?” Julia’s voice was thick with need, “Do you want to fuck Mommy’s asshole?”
No, Julia, I thought as I teethed her nipple, I want you to break my cervix open.
“You haven’t fucked me yet,” Julia was practically breathing the words, each curse sounding unpracticed from her pious tongue, like she saved the word ‘fuck’ only for special occasions, “and I’ve been waiting for you, baby girl. I can’t always be the man.”
I was sliding myself subtly back and forth, running Julia’s length through my folds, moaning, begging with my eyes, feeling her push though my ass cheeks and poke Justina on the other side. Justina clicked her tongue again, a little more urgently this time, but I hardly registered that she was there. Needful tones growled from my chest, expelling from sucking lips as I pleaded my case, bending to Julia, molding myself to her, grinding my thighs around her rigid heat as she stroked mine. Oh no, I’m a slut! I realized, I always thought that when I finally got a body, I’d be a powerful, self-respecting woman, but I’m a helpless, pathetic slut! but there’s no use denying your nature, so, GIVE ME PENIS!
“I’ll fuck you, Mommy,” I whispered, Julia’s milk dribbling from the corners of my mouth, “but only if you fuck me first.” Justina sucked-in air behind me, barely hiding the shocked gasp that came from her. Somewhere within my mind, my rational cognizance was screaming at me, but it was a faint sound. Brandon be damned; I need dick now!
“Aunt Lucilla’s right about you,” Julia crinkled her nose, her hands moving to my hips, “you are a little bitch.”
Julia rolled atop me, her breasts flattening to hemispheres against my chest, her grin wide and hungry, her eyes dancing dangerously before my own. What else could I do? I bit my lip, spread my legs, and…
“Am I interrupting?” a horribly familiar voice came from the doorway. Julia’s lustful hold turned to a protective embrace in an instant. My breath hissed from me as I dared a look over her shoulder, my heart galloping against Julia’s calming cadence. Willowbud was in the doorway, and Corruption was staring right at me. The ruse was up, the shit had hit the fan, the… but no, Corruption wasn’t staring at me. It seemed Diamond’s ‘purple-ness’ did hide me from the Sentient, but that was little comfort when I saw who Corruption’s attention was focused on. Though her posture spoke of caution, her black eyes studied Julia with curiosity, with intrigue. With desire.
“Julia,” I whispered, “Corruption wants you.” Julia’s face turned to me, eyes narrowing, and I realized I’d just called her by her first name. Fuck.
“Does she, Diamond?” Julia searched my eyes, “How can you tell?”
“I can see her inside Willowbud, like I saw Angela before.” I said, adopting Diamond’s mannerisms, hoping my fuck-up would be ignored, “I think she’s afraid of you, but I also think she wants you to be her friend. I think Willowbud is going to give you a present, and I think it’s from Corruption.”
Julia bit her lip, seeming to mull that over.
“I can come back later.” Willowbud sighed, her silhouette leaving the door.
“No,” Julia said, turning around, “just give me a minute, and I’ll be with you.” Julia turned back to me, running an affectionate hand over my cheek, “I know you’re a grown woman,” she whispered, “but I always want to be just ‘Mom’ to you, OK?” she smiled sweetly, and I smiled back and nodded. “Time to face the devil’s temptation.” She grinned. She kissed me on the nose, gave Justina a wink, and left. The two of us laid silently for a second, listening to the fading padding of feet.
“Angela, you fucking slut!” Justina finally giggled, hitting me in the face with a pillow, “I’m saving myself for Brandon,” she mimicked as she abused me, “I’m just an innocent virgin who never participated in any of the dirty things that whore, Justina, did. Oh, hello Julia! Why yes, I would be delighted if you fucked my brains out; I’ll even call you ‘Mommy’ while you do it!”
“Stop! Stop!” I laughed, trying to defend myself. Inevitably, Justina ended atop me, her sweaty, bronze warmth seeping into me, her disheveled mess of black hair laying in strands over her grinning, child-like face.
“You don’t get to pretend to be innocent anymore.” Justina whispered on my lips, crawling up my body, “Not after that shit you just pulled. Besides,” Justina’s forked tongue flicked across my mouth as her hand grasped my stiff rod, “I don’t think Brandon will care if you’re not a virgin here.”
As I stared into those violet eyes, I realized there was no one else I’d rather lose it to. We were beyond friends, beyond lovers, beyond sisters; we had been one person, and we both needed to feel that closeness again. I smiled with an opening mouth, and felt the invasion of another’s kiss for the first time. Justina’s reptilian tongue wrapped around my oral member, her lips curling in a grin as she ran against my awkward inexperience. She hunched herself over me, pinning my shoulders back, placing me in the submissive position of a pupil so that she could train me to her satisfaction. Our locked lips rotated in a lecherous devouring, our tongues tested the flavor and texture of the other. My motions lost their stiffness to fluidity, and Justina hummed her approval, and released me to teach a different lesson. My hands elevated as her hips did, as she centered my oozing tip against her wet slit. She paused for just a moment, letting the anticipation build as her devouring grin grew wider. Then she took me, welcoming me into her heat, embracing me all around as I sunk every bit of myself deep within. Our bodies curved against each other as the passion took hold, and we became one again.
The room was pitch black, but I knew she was there.
“I can see you,” her voice came, “I can see you inside and out. I don’t need fire to light my way, Sister Julia; darkness is my vision, and your darkness is luminous.”
My palm ignited with white flame, bathing the room in a monochromatic spectrum of black, greys and whites. Night Eyes was standing over Astrid, the Valkyrie bent over, her mouthed gagged with a ball, her body bound with leather that crossed her back, encircled her breasts, and squeezed her glutes to protruding orbs. Her nipples drawn to painful points by the metal weights that dangled from her piercings, and a similar treatment was done to her labia, pulling wet flesh to crude flaps. Astrid’s eyes were wide above her gag, trembling, a mixture of agony, fear and pleasure all mingling together. Her body was stiff, unmoving, docile as her mistress examined me.
“Astrid came to me, asking for punishment. It was at Tera’s request, which means Tera is sneaking off somewhere. She took Brandon and Lucilla with her; do you think they’ll say they’ve gone to that new vegan place? It doesn’t matter. Lies have a way of revealing themselves with time. Truth is natural, and a lie has to be constantly tended to, or it will rot with honesty.” Night Eyes pondered airily, beckoning me forward. She pulled a candle out of Astrid’s ass (of which there were many), and lit it from my palm. She watched me as she tilted the flame, and let the candle drip onto Astrid’s back. Astrid quivered and moaned around her gag, her back wanting to arch, but her discipline keeping it flat, letting the hot wax pool and dry over tattooed flesh.
“When I first met Astrid, she was almost perfect.” Night Eyes said, turning the candle upright, and placing it in a candlestick, “My unknowing eyes saw no darkness in her, but Corruption showed it to me.” Night Eyes knelt in front of Astrid, caressing almost-affectionate fingers through the Valkyrie’s braids, “Glory is Astrid’s darkness, but I have brought it to the light. Look,” Night Eyes ran her hand over Astrid’s illustrated back, “symbols of her victories in the arena, trophies she has made a part of her.” Night Eyes’ fingers moved down Astrid’s spine, where the sword of Iona was inked in perfect detail, the blade intercepting a tattoo that read ‘Mistress’s entrance,’ turning into an arrow that pointed to Astrid’s gaping candle-holder. “She has become her darkness.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, closing my hand, extinguishing the flame.
“Darkness it is the honesty we shroud, Sister,” Night Eyes said, pulling out another candle to the muffled delight of her whore, “Deep down, people are simple creatures. Complexity comes from the masks we wear, the lie we tell the world that contradicts our true nature. We don’t let the truth see the light of a day, so it becomes darkness, and we call it evil. I expose it, and call it beautiful.”
“That’s Corruption’s philosophy,” I said, sitting in the chair Night Eyes had set out for me, “but I walk in the daylight, Night Eyes. I walk in the favor of the only god that matters.”
“The Holy Mother?” Night Eyes laughed.
“Death.” I replied. Night Eyes’ smile faded from her lips.
“That almost sounded like blasphemy, Sister Julia.” Night Eyes said quietly, “Though I often find myself sharing your heresy.”
I thumbed the crescent symbol that hung between my breasts. “She is life, and therefore she is also the end of it. You have defied her, Corruption, and so she’s sent me here to correct the mistake.”
“Corruption can’t talk to you.”
“But she can hear me.”
“And she’s listening very closely, I’m sure.” Night Eyes’ grin returned, “She’s absolutely terrified of you, and I suppose she should be. You are ‘The Destroyer,’ after all, so why haven’t you killed me? To save Willowbud? To save your ‘sister?’”
“And how are you going to do that?” Night Eyes laughed, “Are you going to fuck Corruption out of me? That brown stuff on your dick wasn’t the remnants of a melded spirit, Sister.”
“I am going to love you.” I said simply, and then added with a little smile, “And you were clean when I pulled out.”
“That’s good to hear,” Night Eyes smirked, withdrawing another candle to another muffled moan, “but Astrid here already loves me, and as you can see, Corruption wasn’t too moved by it. It’s guilt that Corruption can’t stomach, but I’m afraid I’m not prone to the pious guilt you nuns pedal. I do… unspeakable things, Sister, and I sleep with a smile on my face every night.”
“Astrid gives you devotion, but that is not the love I offer.” I said, examining the Valkyrie, her skin silver in the monochromatic light. I looked up at Night Eyes, her caramel skin a shining black, like oil, “My love is of a concerned older sister, giving her foolish sibling one last chance.”
“Your love is power.” Night Eyes hissed as she began wrapping Astrid’s hair in her hand, “The power to control,” Night eyes ripped Astrid’s head back, “the power to dominate,” Night Eyes pulled out a knife, “the power to kill!” Night Eyes plunged the blade into Astrid’s throat. The Valkyrie’s eyes bulged, a shriek gurgling in her gagged mouth as black liquid poured from the wound. But it was a shallow wound, and the black liquid that ran from it was not blood, but molten iron. It scalded her neck, hissed against her chest, left a horrid smell in the air, but it did not kill her.
“The power to save.” Night Eyes whispered, dropping the bladeless hilt as Astrid collapsed, the pain mercifully draining her of consciousness. The wounds that steamed from her were hideous, but it was better than death, and Brandon could fix them. “Your love means very little to me, Sister Julia, but your power means a great deal.”
Night Eyes walked toward me, stepping over the quivering form of her guardian. She stretched her neck to one side, then the other, rolling her shoulders, letting her bathrobe fall. She was entirely female for me now, black flesh contrasting white hair, black eyes twinkling in the white fire. She raised a slender thigh, stepped over me, and eased herself into my lap, the softness of her flesh opposing the jaggedness of her soul.
“I want that power,” Night Eyes whispered, running a covetous finger along my jaw, “I want it to control me, I want it to dominate me, I want it inside me. I want to be yours, Sister Julia. You can burn me, you can beat me, you can torture me. I want you to. I want to feel your darkness.” Her words hissed from her, breathing on my lips, letting me taste her breath. This was hell; a place void of color, a place that stank of burning flesh, a place that whispered covetously of darkness, a place where temptation pressed her dripping heat against my stiffening desire. Good Mother, did I belong here? Because it felt like I did. It felt like home. It felt like blackening faces screaming in a burning house, but I wasn’t crying, was I? No… I was smiling. I was grinning from ear to ear as I splayed my palm against Night Eyes’ chest, as I felt the heat surge into my hand, as I watched the terror mingle with the arousal in her eyes. This was power. This was righteous, godly power. I was The Destroyer, the flame of God, and there was evil before me, evil whispering sweet temptation, evil begging me to do it. And those obsidian pits that stared back at me, brimming from that leering face of evil… they reflected my face, and I could barely tell the difference between us. This was my power. This was my darkness. This was my evil. This was me.
“You see my darkness.” I whispered, “What do you see in my ‘truth?’”
“It’s my truth, Sister Julia,” Night Eyes’ hushed voice quivered as she took me inside her, burrowing me through squeezing heat, “and it’s like looking into a mirror.”
“No.” I hissed, “We’re nothing alike.”
“We’re kindred spirits, Sister Julia, you said it yourself,” Night Eyes’ lips brushed mine, her breath turning to pants as she grinded on me, “but not you and Willowbud; you and me. There never was so sweet a kiss as the one you shared with Passion before you killed her, was there?”
“How do you…”
“I know you, Sister,” Night Eyes growled on my lips, “I see your darkness! I can’t see your memories, but I see the scars they’ve left behind, and I recognize so many of them. I have that scar, that kiss of death. I gave it to my father because he loved me, because I loved him, because I realized what I’d become, and because I hated him for what I’d done to myself. Sound familiar?”
“Yes.” I barely breathed it. It sounded so familiar.
“And the deepest scars, the ones we get when we’re children, I see those in you, and they look just like mine.” Night Eye’s brushed tender fingertips along my cheek, down my neck, “I was alone and scared, neglected by those that loved me, unable to grapple with emotions I didn’t understand. So, I killed, and killed, until I found peace in the silence. I was barely past five when I did it, but you were younger. Tell me, Sister Julia; when the screaming finally stopped, and you stood in the ashes of your home, did you find peace in the silence?”
“Yes!” I gasped, grabbing her ass, spreading her wide, pushing my fingers together between the crease of her, and burying them deep within her tight filth. She formed against me like water, our curves melding together, breast to breast, belly to belly, thigh to thigh. Our lips locked, and the message we spoke was of hatred, of loathing, of disgust, but not in each other; in ourselves. Good Mother, it was… but the Good Mother wasn’t here, was she? No, I tasted hell in Night Eyes’ mouth, and it was acrid, and foul, and the sweetest thing my tongue had ever caressed. I tasted Corruption, and I liked the flavor.
I can take away your pain. a seductive voice, a loving voice, I can take the weight from your shoulders. It wasn’t your fault, Julia; none of it was your fault. You are the flame of God, and fire cannot be blamed for what it burns. You are death, and no one faults death for the dead.
Stay away from me.
You do not have to listen to my offer; you can walk away. Corruption replied, Withdraw yourself from Night Eyes, spill your seed upon the stones, and leave us. You are not welcome here, you are not wanted here, you are a trespasser. I see the threat that you are, but my host desires you, so I will extend you my hand. Let me take your pain away, Sister. It fills you to the point of bursting; let me make you hollow, so that peace may settle in the void.
I don’t want you.
I am not offering myself to you, Corruption chuckled, I am already melded to the one I love. I am offering you my friendship, and the gifts that come with it. I can fetishize your agony, I can pervert your self-loathing, I can mutate your guilt. I can bring forth your truth, and turn it into armor. I can make you, you, Sister Julia. It took Night Eyes weeks to turn Astrid, but it will only take me a single breath. Breath me into you. No more blackened faces, no more shrieks in your dreams. Peace…
“Become like me,” Night Eyes whispered as our kiss parted, “there’s no need to suffer, there’s no need to fight me. We’re sisters, Julia, sisters of circumstance and fate, but closer than blood. I need someone by my side. I need an equal. I need a…” Night Eyes almost looked ashamed through her pleasure, “…I need a friend. Will you be my friend?”
“You’re a deceiver.” I moaned, “A liar!”
“I’m the most honest person you’ve ever met.” Night Eyes snarled, clenching her thighs around my waist, “Lies are for those who wear masks. Where is your princess, Julia? Why has she gone without you? It’s because deception is unnatural for you, and the lies they’ll tell me when they come back will sound sweeter from their practiced tongues. You are no liar; you are like me, now let me help you become you. Breathe her into you, and join me, sister.”
“Fuck you, Night Eyes.” I growled, and drove my lips to hers, opened our mouths, and breathed in Corruption. I felt her surge into me, into my lungs, into my heart; terrible, exhilarating euphoria burning through my veins, scorching my extremities. Oh, great devil, oh, sweet hell. The pain washed from me, detoxifying me with poison, numbing me with opium for the soul. I am a sinner, I am a murderer, I am a heathen blasphemer. I am a daughter-fucking, immortal-killing force of chaos. I am death. And then I exhaled, and breathed Corruption’s gift back into Night Eyes, feeling the pain come back into my soul, feeling the guilt, the hatred, the sorrow. I am all those things, but I walk in the light, Corruption. Your darkness is but a shadow of truth. Guilt, pain and sorrow are as much a part of us as the despicable things we hide. There is no joy without hurt, and I will not give you my hurt. I don’t need your friendship; I have love. I have Lucilla and Diamond, and soon, I will have Willowbud.
You will have none of those. Corruption hissed in the back of my mind, I will strip them from you. I will break the bonds that hold you fast, and set you adrift in my ocean. You will beg for my gift, oh pious sister, and I will only take more from you.
I can taste your fear, most ancient one, I smiled around Night Eyes’ kiss, and it’s decadent. Run to the astral plane, and cower for another epoch. Only death awaits you here.
I stared into those black orbs, narrowed to blissful slits as she kissed me, and I saw them lighten. I saw the blackness recede to the edges as Corruption took the chance I gave her, leaking away in wisps of darkness. I saw the confusion in Willowbud’s eyes, the pupils constricting, the lids peeling back, and I saw the pain begin to film over her lenses, the fear coming back, the realization of what she’d-
NO! I faintly heard the voice, as if it was spoken on the wind, No, you will not take her from me! She is MINE! And the blackness came back, and Night Eyes returned.
“You almost had me there,” she grinned against my mouth, biting my lower lip as she grinded fervently onto my lap, “God, you’re good, Sister; we’re going to have so much fun together.”
“Yes,” I smiled back, breathing her breath, tasting her temptation, “we are.” And I pulled my penetrating fingers apart, slowly gaping Night Eyes as I drove into her heat, feeling her pain, her gratitude, her hedonistic clenches. She dug her nails into my shoulders and cut lines into my back, and our kiss only deepened as we violated each other in the monochromatic splendor we’d made, in the hell of our own darkness. The truth was, she almost had me there as well, and she knew it. Corruption’s gift lingered in my nerves, the echoes of her euphoria whispering beneath my flesh. Night Eyes was right; I was like her. I was more like her than Willowbud was, and I wasn’t even corrupted. Not by Corruption, anyway.
I examined Brandon as we rode the cable-towed lift up Willowbud’s tower, the squeaking, steel cable echoing against the stone walls. His face was lit on only one side as we past the slotted windows that provided illumination for the confines, their rectangles narrowing into the void below.
“What are we going to do?” I asked him.
“Wait and see what happens. What else can we do?” He frowned as we neared the square of light above us. A shadow crossed the light, a shadow with two ram-like horns, and a hand placed lazily on the steel cable. The lift stuttered to a halt, the cable screeching anomalously above, the stone floor below suddenly seeming very temporary. Icy fear crawled along my spine, up my neck, and came from my mouth in a whimper. Tera let out a resigned breath, but Brandon just chuckled.
“Howdy!” Willowbud called down to us, affecting an accent, “Did you folks enjoy the waterslide?”
“The drop at the end seems kind of excessive.” Brandon called to her, putting a calming on hand on my trembling shoulder.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I could practically hear Willowbud’s sardonic grin, “I’m thinking about making the drop a bit higher, actually. Where’d you three run off to?”
“Tera took us to this new vegan place.” Brandon called back, “They have this really great tea, and I was thinking maybe you and I should-”
“Oh, fuck you, hippy.” Willowbud grumbled, walking away. The lift began rising again, the counterweight sandbags passing us on their descent into the darkness below.
“How do you live like this?” I hissed at them, my breath coming from me in terrified rattles.
“I thought about leaving, but the sex is just too good.” Brandon chuckled, and Tera gave a concurring snort.
The sun was dark in the astral plane. It stayed low in the sky, some part of it always dipping below the horizon, as through perpetually setting. It burned around the rim like a great circle surrounding a void, and that bit of radiance that escaped the edges, illuminated the astral plane in twilight.
“It’s being eclipsed by the true sun,” a familiar voice said beside me, “but the true sun doesn’t shine in the world.”
“Hi, Arby!” I grinned at the little man. His eyes were orange surrounding green now, and I didn’t doubt that mine were purple surrounding emerald.
“Hello, Diamond,” the old dwarf smiled, his kindly wrinkles sinking into his face, “it seems that you’ve found your way to your garden.”
“Mother’s garden,” I mused, looking around the plush, overgrown estate. It looked like it had been abandoned. Stone pergolas and gazebos were crumbling and entwined with vines, marble statues were defaced and laced with foliage, the earth had reclaimed what might’ve once been a great pavilion, “or what’s left of it, anyway.”
“This is her gift to you,” Arby said, “it is yours now. It is in rough shape, but you’ll tidy it up in time.”
“How do I do that?” I frowned at the decay around me.
“Just by living.” Arby chuckled, “This is the realm of cognizance, Diamond; it is a thing of experience and memory. Right now, the vestiges of your mother’s existence are diminishing to give way to your own. Look over there,” Arby pointed to a well-trimmed shrub that looked entirely out of place, “that one’s new. What is it? My eyes aren’t so great, even here.”
“My first blowjob.” I said simply, looking at the bush trimmed to excruciating detail.
“Oh.” Arby said, shifting beside me. My eyes drifted around the garden where little bits of renewal were springing-up from the decay.
“If all of this is going away, does that mean I’ll lose all the things Mother taught me?” I asked.
“No, those things are a part of you. What you see here, is already dead. Your mind is just clearing real-estate for new thoughts.”
“Mom sure had a lot of experiences.” I mused, looking at the vast, derelict expanse of marble and foliage. There was even a palace in the distance, with the dome caved-in, and vines spiraling the pylons that supported it. A procession of maple trees led to its Greco entrance, whose columns were festooned with glowing mushrooms.
“That is where your mother’s oldest memories were.” Arby said, “That is the center of her realm. Over the millennia, her borders expanded with her expanding knowledge, and as you can see,” Arby gestured over the grandiose spectacle, “her knowledge was vast.”
My eyes wandered to the south, where the hint of a stone path could be discerned through moss. It led to a gate, whose iron bars and stone supports looked as new as anything here.
“Where does that go to?” I asked.
“That is the end of your realm,” Arby said, “and it is firmly locked and shut for a good reason. You are untethered, Diamond; you must never venture from this place.”
“Untethered. I can walk the astral plane with impunity, because I have a safety-line back to the world of life. You have this realm, and in this realm, you are safe, but venture beyond the gate, and you will be exposed. The astral plane is not like the real world, Diamond; space and time don’t follow the same rules. In the voids between realms seconds can be minutes, feet can be miles, and the gate you exited will not be there when you turn back. It’s best if you just- hey, what the hell are you doing?!”
“Leaving.” I said as I skipped down the path.
“Didn’t you just hear me?” Arby said, jogging alongside me as I bounded toward the gate.
“You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” I smiled at him, “So since I’ve got you, I don’t need to worry!”
“Just because I can navigate the astral plane, doesn’t mean I’m safe!” Arby was huffing as he tried to keep pace with me.
“I thought you said only Mom could kill you?”
“Safety is more than just not being dead.” Arbitrus said, red-faced, “There are great dangers here, Diamond, and it’s best to observe them from a great distance, preferably in the physical world. Where are you going?”
“I’m going to wake up Wrath and Sorrow, and ask them about Corruption.”
“They probably know her, so they seem to be the right people to ask.”
“Diamond,” Arby grabbed me by the arm, “remember those ‘great dangers’ I just told you about?! Well, two of them are Wrath and Sorrow!”
“And I am neither sad, nor angry,” I offered my dazzling smile, “so I have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s not how it works,” Arby shook his head, “also, why do you need to learn about Corruption? Your mother is just going to kill Night Eyes and be done with it anyway. Diamond? Why are you smiling like that?” Arby’s face fell, “Julia isn’t going to kill Night Eyes, is she?” My smile grew wider, and Arbitrus’s face fell further, “Because Julia learned the truth about her… shit.”
“You old bastard!” I laughed, “You knew all along!”
“Well, I heard it from your other mother,” Arby grumbled, “so obviously she didn’t feel like telling you either. Willowbud needs to die, Diamond; there’s no way around it.”
“That’s not what Mom thinks,” I said, taking Arby by the hand, and continuing my skipping, “I don’t know what she’s doing, but whatever it is, she’ll need my help, and what better way to help, then to find out all of Corruption’s dirty, little secrets?”
“There’s no way to dissuade you, is there?” Arby asked.
“Nope!” I grinned, and unlatched the gate.
The astral plane outside of my realm was not… anything. Mountains turned to oceans turned to forests turned to deserts, never staying one for long, always transitioning. The sky turned from orange, to pink, to blue, then to black, a canvas of billions of stars blanketing each hue, never the same constellations shown. The one constant in the ever-changing world, was the stone path we walked upon, and I knew that if I released Arby’s hand, the path would not be there for me, and I would be lost in the chaos. Suddenly, we were walking through massive stalks of grass, and an ant the size of a mountain crawled above us, its footsteps shaking the earth. Then, I was walking through blackness, my face hitting specs of light that I realized were stars, each one orbited with its own system of planets almost too small to see. That gave-way to an immense field of lava, where fish leapt from the inferno and walked on two legs to sit around a camp fire lit with water. Then, there was a gate. Wrought-iron and imposing, it stood tall with black statues of warriors siding the path.
“This is the realm of Wrath,” Arby sighed, “and I will go no further.”
“Why, are you scared?” I teased the ex-Heat Bringer.
“Terrified.” Arby said quietly. Maybe Arby’s foreboding tone was meant to give me pause, but I was too excited to meet an ancient being of evil to share in his fear.
“Well then stay out here, you weenie!” I laughed, and pushed open the gate.
Wrath’s realm was one of contrast. The sun shown a blood-red, and the shadows it cast didn’t form gradients, but sharp changes from light, to dark. Hundreds of thousands of black statues were stuck in poses of struggle, a still-image of epic battle that stretched to either horizon, where jagged mountains marked the boundaries of the realm. Great fortresses of obsidian shot from the earth, their walls shear and without windows or doors, their battlements standing hundreds of feet above the hardpan earth. The visuals were deafening, but the world was silent.
“Hello?” I called out, “Wrath, are you awake?”
Boom. The sound thundered across the valley, echoing against the iron walls, singing through the statues. Boom. It was closer now, sharper. Boom. The earth began to shake. Boom. I stumbled. Boom. I fell to my knees, hands clutching at the gravel in a vain effort to level myself. Boom, boom, boom, boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom. It sounded like footsteps now, and they were getting closer. I looked up, and saw a shadow on the horizon. Immense, and hazy with the fog of great distance, its red eyes barely glinted from a face that was miles away- and he was right in front of me, red eyes staring into mine, black skin shining, white teeth filed to points and grinning at me. The shadow that had seemed massive so far away, had kept the size of its perspective, now making him eight-feet tall, instead of the thousand-foot behemoth he had seemed before.
“Hi!” I smiled back at him, “My name’s Diamond, and I-”
“Hello, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One.” Wrath interrupted with a deep, boisterous voice, “I am Wrath, spirit of battle, spirit of rage, spirit of glory and blood! Why have you come to my realm?”
“Well, I have some questions about-”
“But where are my manners?” Wrath yelled over me, “I have a guest, and I have not offered her food, nor drink, nor bed! Forgive me, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One.”
I was sitting at a massive table, a feast of only meat covering its expanse. Suckling pig, slabs of beef, turkeys, chickens, and a few animals I didn’t recognize, all steaming and moist. And I was a vegetarian.
“Your mother,” Wrath said through a mouthful, apparently three-plates into his dinner, “used to come to me from time to time. She was quite a warrior, Passion was. We would spar in my arena, and the bouts we had were TREMENDOUS!” the whole table shook with his voice, “The crowd would roar as our steel clashed, as the sweat dripped from our bodies, and the blood dripped from our blades. Do you enjoy the exhilaration of the contest, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One?”
“Well, earlier today I got in a fight with a-”
“EXCELLENT!” and we were in a massive arena, stone risers stretching to infinity, the crowd all wrought iron statues, frozen in expression of great excitement, but silent. Wrath paced across from me, naked save for a loin cloth, his black, orc body bulging unnaturally with muscle, his movements that of a tiger; graceful, but hinting at great power. He wielded an enormous sword, almost comically big, and I realized I was holding two blades, my body encased with tight-fitting leather.
“Your mother was a natural at dual-wielding,” Wrath stretched his neck this way, and that, “she would cut me to a thousand pieces before I got my strike in, but when I did, I would TURN HER BODY TO MIST!”
Wrath let out a great bellow, and charged headlong across the sand. I yelped, threw away my swords, and sprinted to the wall, frantically searching for an exit. Of course, there was none, and I squawked in terror as Wrath’s enormous blade came crashing down on me. I dove to the right, tumbled, rose to my feet, dove to avoid another downward strike, then grabbed my swords from the sand, rolled away, and skidded as I spun, my pivot heel digging into the sand, my trailing heel creating a semicircle, and kicking dust into the air. Wrath was on me again, and I ducked his decapitating swing, scrambled between his legs, and drew blood along his calves with my outstretched blades. He didn’t make a sound as steel cut through flesh, but simply turned on his heel, and dropped his shoulders for a moment.
“Fabian tactics!” Wrath bellowed approvingly, “Make your enemy come to you, on your terms. Feign weakness to goad him, then show your strength when he is committed. I like it!”
“Yeah,” I gasped, “that’s what I was doing.”
“It will not work again!” Wrath grinned broadly, “It is now in my memory forever, and I will use it against you, you can be certain of that! You should have saved it for the killing blow!”
Wrath charged again, back arched behind him as he raised his sword over his head, red eyes bulging, his black torso stretched to reveal too many abdominal muscles. I sidestepped the downward strike, barely hopped over the dragging swipe, then spun in the air, and stuck my blades to the hilt through his bicep. Once again, Wrath didn’t seem to acknowledge the great wound I delivered him, and I almost lost my swords as he moved his arm for another strike. I pulled my weapons free, scrambled from a thrown elbow, ducked a slice that would’ve cut me in half, then charged in, screaming at the tops of my lungs as I lunged toward his exposed chest. A foot caught me in the stomach, and I was hurdled away, rolling and tumbling on the sand, scraping my skin, losing one sword, and barely holding on to the other. I struck the wall with a thud, my blurred vision seeing a black figure surging toward me, a cloud of dust in his wake.
“I told you I would use it against you!” Wrath cackled as he charged, “You must listen, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One!”
I lurched to the side just as Wrath’s blade cracked the stone.
“You are nimble!” Wrath yelled.
I hopped over another sweep, ducked the elbow, but didn’t lunge for the exposed chest. Instead, I stabbed him in the foot that was meant to intercept my would-be lunge, then jumped away as the foot turned to a knee, barely pulling out my sword in time.
“You learn fast!” he yelled again.
He swung overhand, and I stepped into the blow, letting it pass over me at the last second. His entire body was open to me, and I raised my sword to put it through his chest, but speared him through the thigh instead. I didn’t wait for the blade to sink deeply, but pulled it across fast, spurting blood, then diving between his legs, and rolling away from his stomping foot. Wrath turned around, his wound a gruesome display of red and pink, but not seeming to affect him in the least. He was grinning from ear to ear.
“But you do not have the killer instinct,” Wrath smiled, “you had my heart in your sight, but you went for a disabling blow. Perhaps I was wrong about you, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One. Perhaps you are made of flaccid and soft things. Perhaps you are as weak as that cock between your girly legs.”
Did that just goad me? Was I that easily manipulated? At first, I was annoyed. Then, I was mad. Then, I felt… not anger, but… rage. It burned behind my eyes, pounded in my chest, ignited in my muscles. Oh, did it feel GOOD! My teeth were practically cracking as they ground in my manic grimace, my hair was standing from my flesh, my knuckles were white against my hilt. My bones felt like titanium, my muscles felt like they’d burst from the skin, and that skin felt like it was impenetrable. I’d been in a cage my whole, fucking life, and now someone had just left it unlatched, and the animal would have her revenge. I screamed, and the sound was as joyous as it was wrathful, and I charged at the orc with my teeth bared, no longer caring for my safety, no longer bothering with being “nimble.”
Wrath shared my manic grin as we exchanged steel. I moved with the recoil of my sword, faltering back to let his blade pass over me, then diving at him, catching his fist on my ribs, hearing the bones crack, and welcoming the pain, relishing it, hoping for it. I spun with the change of momentum, my sword held tight to my chest, my manic eyes searching in slow-motion for the opening, until I saw it. The aorta in Wrath’s neck was bulging, pumping with his heart, and my blade sung forth, and sliced it. The fist that had struck my ribs had an elbow following it, and I smiled my last smile as bone met jaw, and my face caved-in. It didn’t matter. I had won. I had killed. I rolled across the dirt, seeing teeth fall from my unhinged jaw, watching my bit-off tongue flop in the sand, and I grinned internally as the pain screamed against me. I stopped, rose to my feet, realized that my left lung had collapsed, but not feeling too bothered by it. Wrath was still smiling at me as he collapsed to his knees, blood burbling from his throat. He let out a strangled laugh, and fell onto his face. Soon after, so did I.
“Ah, it does feel good to taste to defeat again,” Wrath said as we lounged in his hot tub, drinking ale from the horns of some great beast, “I don’t get many visitors, but the ones that come are often too full of bluster, and die too easily.”
“Who comes here?” I asked, enjoying the jet of water riding up my ass crack.
“Oh, all sorts,” Wrath said, “I leave my door on the other side open to any mortal who cares to test me.”
“There’s a door on the other side?”
“Of course!” Wrath laughed, “How else would I journey to the world when I am called for?”
“Where is it?”
“There is a great hole beneath the Gratoran Desert,” Wrath said, ale dripping down his chin, “it is an immense cavern, filled with the heinous beasts that seek shelter from the heat. It was once a city, if I am not mistaken.”
“Droktinar?” I asked.
“THAT’S IT!” Wrath boomed, “Droktinar! Any warrior who can fight through the ground-dwellers of Droktinar and reach my door, is worthy of seeking audience with me. If they defeat me in battle, then I may meld with them, and give my gift to their hordes!”
“Is that what I felt? Your gift?”
“So full of questions, you are!” Wrath laughed, “But yes, you tasted my gift. Did you find it to your liking?”
“I did.” I grinned at him.
“As did your mother!” Wrath seemed to yell everything, “She would taste my gift, and I would taste hers, and we would have the most VIOLENT SEX THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN! Good Mother, do I miss her already!”
“You follow the maternal path?” I asked, “Shouldn’t you be a Creationist?”
“Why would I be a Creationist?” Wrath inquired. “The heathen gods are cyclic, temporary things, but the Holy Mother is eternal!”
“But, you were created by Trenok, so…”
“I do not know of what you speak,” Wrath said, taking another drink, “I was created by the Holy Mother so that I could lead her crusading warriors to glorious victory!”
“The Holy Mother is a pacifist!” I exclaimed.
“IS SHE?! Than why is the earth stained with the refuse of war? The Holy Mother desires her creations to be made of iron, to be sharpened to the finest point, to be forged in the great smelter of battle!” Wrath said, as if his words were prophecy, “She wants BLOOD! She wants DEATH! She wants the bowels of hell to be filled with the weak, and the halls of heaven to be blessed with the strong! I am the filter of her purpose, and I have yet to fail in my assessment!”
“That’s not what I was taught.” I mumbled.
“THEN YOU WERE TAUGHT WRONG!” Wrath bellowed veins bulging in his neck. This was obviously not an argument worth having. If Wrath wanted to believe his version of the maternal path, who was I to say otherwise? I didn’t even believe in the version Mom taught me. It was strange that he didn’t remember how he was created, and I wondered if he remembered anything of what he once was.
“Halok.” I said quietly, carefully watching Wrath from the tops of my eyes. He gave me an inquisitive look, like I was speaking gibberish, then redirected his attention to the horn of ale in his hand. He doesn’t remember anything, does he? Does even know what he is?
“What do you know about the most ancient one?” I asked.
“Who is that?” Wrath asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A great problem in politics,” Wrath frowned, “often only resolved through revolution, and bloodshed. It is a weak man who sells his nation for coin. If a man desires wealth, why not simply seize it through conquest?”
“Corruption the Sentient?”
“What babble is this?” Wrath looked perplexed, and a little annoyed.
“Corruption, Sorrow, and Wrath?” I asked, exasperated, “You know, Sentients? What you are?!”
“I have heard enough of your blathering nonsense, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One. Let us retire to my chambers, and-” Wrath stopped abruptly, inclining his head as though listening intently. A wide grin stretched across his black face.
“Sun Man!” he grinned at me. In a flash of black, he was gone, and then he was back, a very terrified Arbitrus Gen in his arms.
“Sun Man!” Wrath bellowed, tossing Arby into the hot tub, clothes and all, “I have not seen you for generations! Sun Man, this is Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One, this is Sun Man. Sun Man used to visit me often, but does no longer. He would also ask me silly questions. Sun Man, why have you not come for so long? My realm is always open to you!”
“Wrath,” Arbitrus sputtered, “wait just a sec-”
“But where are my manners?” Wrath yelled over him, “I have a guest, and I have not offered him food, nor drink, nor bed! Forgive me, Sun Man.”
“I bought you time, now use it!” Arbitrus hissed to me right before Wrath seized him. The two immortals were gone in another flash of black, leaving me alone in the hot tub.
“You and I used to clash steel for hours, Sun Man,” Wrath’s voice boomed from far away, “tell me, do you still enjoy the exhilaration of the contest?” Arbitrus probably mumbled something, but all I heard immediately following Wrath’s question was a robust, “EXCELLENT!” as though it didn’t matter what Arbitrus said, which was probably true. I grimaced to think how many times the geriatric dwarf would die before Wrath got bored. I shook myself from my contemplation, slid from the hot tub, and left the steaming bathhouse.
Wrath’s realm didn’t seem to be organized in any pattern, and there certainly wasn’t any indication of a center. The fortresses that dotted the landscape were often tilted at odd angles, as though they’d been dropped carelessly from the sky. Trenches ran with no heed for placement, battlements jutted like jagged teeth from the hardpan, siege weapons pointed in all different directions. I couldn’t find one structure that looked different than the others, nor any path that would guide me. Wrath’s realm was chaotic, but it was uniformly chaotic, with no indication of centralization.
“If I remember correctly, you were partial to the hammer.” Wrath’s voice echoed across the desolate realm.
Did the trenches form a web of some kind? Would it lead to the center?
“Ah, I see you’ve adopted biological tactics! You’re not the first warrior I’ve faced who’s introduced bacterial attacks to their arsenal by shitting their pants; I have seen this move before!”
Was there a pattern to the placement of statues?
“You are weeping! Did you place poison in your tear ducts before this bout? How crafty you are, Sun Man!”
Maybe there’s a tunnel system between the fortresses? How would I- the clash of steel rang across the valley, and the entire world suddenly shifted. In one motion, every statue turned, and pointed their weapons. The ring of steel faded, and the statues shifted back to their positions, their movements eerily mechanical. Another clash of steel, and all the warriors pointed again. I followed the path of their blades, my eyes leading to one fortress. It looked like all the others, but as I squinted my eyes, I realized it had a door.
A great shriek of pain cut through the air, spurring me into action. I sprinted toward the fortress as Wrath’s disappointed voice echoed.
“Disembowelment on the third strike? Sun Man, what tactic is this? Have you hidden weapons in your intestines?”
I grasped the handle and yanked the door open. The fortress was pitch black, lit only by slotted windows that allowed red beams to illuminate the confines. Each beam ended on a pedestal, and each pedestal displayed a painting. The nearest was of a woman, pale and with crimson irises. The portrait was abstract, as though the image had been distorted in memory; nose and eyes misplaced, fangs overgrown, hair a wild mess. I moved to the next painting. It was of an orc, the portrait even more distorted than the one of the vampire. I moved to the next painting, and it was so abstracted, that I could not tell what it had ever been. Each successive painting was worse and worse, each memory distorted to nothing, the remnants of Halok turned to smears of paint that could’ve been created by a child. Had Wrath painted these? I realized as I moved down the line, that they had been painted by a child. Paint brushes turned to pencils turned to crayons turned to finger paint, until the last picture in the lineup was nothing more than tiny, red handprints on a white canvas. But that was not the last pedestal. The last pedestal was a book. The bible of the maternal path. I frowned, and opened it.
In the dawn, there were but two. The Holy Virgin walked alone upon the world, bathed in her light, while The Interloper walked beneath it, reveling in the dark. The Holy Virgin found peace in her solitude, but The Interloper could not. He climbed the ladder between worlds, beset himself upon The Holy Virgin, and… I’d read this before. It was different than the version Mom had taught me, but I’d since procured my own copy of Mom’s favorite book, and realized she was sugarcoating it. What Wrath had here, was word-for-word the same things as… wait. …and on the third day, The Holy Mother birthed Wrath. “You will be my forge,” The Holy Mother said to him, “you will be the rage that sharpens man to my purpose. You will be the divider of the strong and the weak. You will be the wind of war.” On the fourth day, The Holy Mother created the birds and the butterflies, for the sky was so empty of life…
“What the heck?” I whispered. Every other line in the bible was the same as the original, but the third day (which if I recalled correctly, was the creation of wind), had been replaced with Wrath. I examined the paintings once again. There was no doubt in my mind that Wrath had made them. He had been born here, and put to canvas the memories of a dead man, as though expelling Halok’s legacy to make room for the new. I recalled Mother’s derelict palace, the center of her astral cognizance. It was massive, capable of fitting galleries and libraries, and it undoubtedly had. Passion had been Silvia Dawnbark once, and she had not lost that part of her, because she had not degraded to Sentience. What was left of Halok, was ten paintings, only two of which were discernable. And a bible that told lies. Had Wrath created his own origin story, or had someone made it for him? I closed the book, puzzling over the mystery. If someone had made it for him, who was it? Corruption? But Wrath didn’t know Corruption, had never met Corruption, and did not even know she existed. Did he know of Sorrow? Did Sorrow know of him? Did Sorrow of know of Corruption?
“Using your severed leg as weapon! Now THAT is ingenuity! Look, your tibia has punctured my femoral artery; A KILLING BLOW!”
I rushed to the exit, scrambled up a hill, and was back in the bathhouse just as Wrath, and a very traumatized-looking Arbitrus, plopped into the hot tub.
“Hello again, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One!” Wrath boomed, “Have your muscles warmed and loosened? Would you care to dawn armor, and kill, or would the bedroom be more to your liking?”
“Actually,” Arby said, painfully hoisting himself out of the tub, “I must take Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One back to her realm. She has many battles to fight on earth, many armies to lead, and many nations to conquer, and she can’t do it if she is stuck here.”
“Ah, of course she does!” Wrath laughed, “The daughter of The Destroyer must have enemies by the millions! If you are ever in need of aid, Daughter of Passion, Daughter of The Destroyer, the Untethered One, please find my door in Droktinar, and seek my meld. I will turn your armies into hordes of savages! I will strip fear from their minds, and place death in their hearts! They will pillage, rape, and burn without regard! They will cast a shadow of terror across the very sun, and that shadow will have your shape! They will carve your likeness onto face of the earth, and paint its detail in BLOOD!”
“Thanks!” I said brightly, pulling myself out of the tub, “I’ll definitely consider it!”
“PLEASE DO!” Wrath yelled, toasting us with his horn of ale as we stepped from his bathhouse.
“I hope you found what you were looking for.” Arby said through gritted teeth as he dragged me away.
“I didn’t find out anything about Corruption,” I frowned, “but there were some weird things about Wrath. Did you know he has a doorway to his realm, and he put it in Droktinar?”
“He’s told me several times.” Arby said, “The irony isn’t lost on me, though I suspect it is lost on him.”
“Do Sorrow and Corruption have doorways?”
“Yes, but I do not know where they are.” Arby replied, “Wrath’s meld is something sought after, so the location of his door, while secret, is not completely unknown. Sorrow and Corruption’s doorways are hidden from all, as I doubt anyone sane would want to seek audience with them. Granted, I tought nobody sane would want to seek audience with Wrath, but ambition has a way of clouding judgement.” Arby looked pointedly at me, and I gave him an apologetic smile.
“There was something else,” I said as Arby guided us through the wrought-iron gate, “Wrath had a version of the maternal bible in his center. It was the exact same as the one I’ve read, but it was altered to include his origin story. Judging by the its placement in his center, it was the oldest memory he had.”
Arby stopped at that. “That is odd. It also explains why Wrath believes he is ordained by god to do what he does.”
“Did somebody put it there?” I asked, “Or was it made as he was made?”
“I don’t know, Diamond.” Arby frowned, “I don’t know why Sentients become what they are. I suspect that during Halok’s degradation, his mutating mind created a purpose for his new self. Perhaps that bible is the last act of Halok.”
“That would explain why it was legible,” I mused, “everything after that looked like it had been made by a toddler, but the bible looked as though it had been written and bound by scholars.”
“Well, mystery solved.” Arby said, recommencing his dragging, “Now, let’s get you back to your body. While I waited for you, I took a peek into your realm, and saw a very confused-looking young lady calling for you. Was that Angela Sorenson?”
“Yep!” I said, now skipping beside Arby, “She’s keeping my body safe while I’m adventuring.”
“And does she know that’s what she’s doing?”
“Nope!” I giggled, “I just left without telling her. Is she untethered, like me?”
“Yes, though she is more a part of this world, than the other.” Arby said, “She builds her own realm without her knowledge, and it is expanding with her memories and thoughts. Look,” a projection of a realm filled with rolling hills and villages floated above us, the eclipsed sun tinted yellow-green, “it is her mind, and it is beautiful. If she is not bound or tethered before Brandon passes, then it will decay into something simple, and lifeless, like Wrath’s realm.”
“Wow.” I whispered, “Can she go to it?”
“Not while she’s trapped in your body, and her astral self is trapped in your garden. Come on.”
“No.” I said, stopping, “No, there is more I need to learn.”
“Do the things I learn here, go back to my garden?” I asked Arby. He nodded. “Then Angela can see them. I want to talk to Sorrow, and see what she knows.”
“You learned nothing from Wrath, what makes you think you’ll learn anything from Sorrow?”
“She’s much older,” I frowned, rubbing my chin, “maybe she knows something we could use.”
“What makes you think she would help you, even if she could?”
“What’s the harm in finding out?”
“Do you know how close you came here?!” Arby pulled me down to his level, “Do you know what would have happened if I hadn’t intervened? Diamond, Wrath would never have let you leave. He would have fed you, fought you, and fucked you for eternity. Wrath likes me, I’m his ‘Sun Man,’ so I was allowed into his realm, but Sorrow doesn’t give a shit about me. If you go into her realm, and I can’t follow to pull you out, then you’ll be lost. You. Are. Untethered!”
“There is something here, Arby!” I hissed, “I know it! The key to saving Willowbud is-”
“THERE IS NO ‘SAVING WILLOWBUD!’” Arby yelled, “She expelled Corruption a year ago, something that, to my knowledge, has never been done before, and Corruption still got her! I thought that once you saw Wrath, and realized the depths these things have fallen to, you’d abandon this moronic venture and come to reason, but I guess not, so let me give it to you! You are going back to your body, and you are going to explain to your mom exactly what I told you, then Julia is going to do what she must do-what she promised to do- and the world can move on from this impending disaster! There is no other way!”
“I am going to Sorrow’s realm,” I said, peeling Arby’s finger off my shoulder, “and you are going to take me there. You owe me this; you could’ve told Mom the whole truth, but you decided to deceive us.”
“So did your mother.” Arby whispered, “There are some things better left unknown, Diamond.”
“I loved my mother,” I replied levelly, “but she would have kept Mom captive until she wasted away. Passion was a great woman, but she was not a good one. You were a great man, but you were an evil man, Arby. Even necessary evil, is still evil. Now, are you going to help me, and do the right thing, or are you going to do the necessary thing?”
I held out my hand. Arby stared at me for an excruciatingly long time, then took my hand, and led us through the chaos of the astral plane.