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Chapter Four: Drastin


“So,” I said as we walked down the dirt path to Drastin; Tera on one side of me, and Justina on the other, “the Heat Bringer can ignite with the force of a volcano, the Earth Former can level entire mountains, and I can grow fucking plants.”

I held the disappointing tulip in my palm, whose sickly-looking flower drooped pathetically after growing another inch. Tera, who I’d since relieved of her lustful slavery, laughed.

“You can do more than grow plants, Brandon,” the succubus said, affectionately placing a hand on my arm. “You can stop people from dying, you can create life from nothing, you can—”

“Grow weed!” I exclaimed excitedly as a marijuana plant sprouted from my hand. “Why didn’t I think of that before?!”

“You can also do that,” Tera smiled, plucking the herb from my hand and placing it in her pouch, “but we’ll need to keep a clear head in Drastin.”

I had thought Tera would be furious with me after the things I made her do during her night as my slave, but she didn’t seem to mind in the least. In fact, she was more than a little friendly with me. She didn’t worship me like she did two nights ago (and my god, does that woman know how to treat divinity), but she did openly flirt with me, and let me ‘feed her’ each night while we camped. The touch of the succubus no longer affected me, not in the magical sense, but her company was still quite distracting. She had the face of an angel and the body of a devil, and every step she took was a vulgar display of sex. Sometimes I had to stop by the side of the road to ‘feed’ her behind a tree, though honestly, it felt like I was the gluttonous one. Tera was an all-you-can-fuck buffet, and I was ravenous. She let me do things to her that I’d never dreamed of, and it wasn’t just that she let me do them, but that she encouraged me to. All the while, Justina watched with obvious envy, which irritated me somewhat as it meant Angela was probably watching me too. But my twin sister had caught me jacking it a hundred times already, so the audience didn’t stop me from giving Tera my all.

“Just think,” Justina mused, if only to get my attention, “if I had been born just a week later, I might’ve been a Creator instead of you.”

“Is that how it works?” I asked her.

“I think it has something to do with—”

“Hey, Brandon!” Angela blurted from Justina’s mouth. “Keep practicing; you need to make me a new body!”

“You could live in this ladybug I made,” I smiled to Justina, whose eyes had turned Angela’s pale blue, “I worked for hours on it.”

“It has ten legs and three heads,” Angela said frankly. “I’m not an entomologist, but I think you might’ve fucked up.”

“It’s a true marvel,” Tera said, squeezing my arm encouragingly, “a miracle of nature.”

“It’s an abomination and should be burned with fire!” Angela spat. “At this rate, I’ll be lucky if you manage to make me a body with an asshole for a mouth.”

“Probably wouldn’t make a difference,” I sneered.

“You’re fucking hilarious,” Angela grumbled, and then receded into Justina’s mind, allowing the succubus to regain her violet eyes.

“I thought it was pretty funny.” Tera smiled up at me, resting her head on my shoulder. I smiled back, put my arm around her, and walked the path to Drastin with an extra spring in my step as Tera walked with a slight limp in hers.


Goddamn, it felt good to be back in Drastin. I soared over the city atop Astrid, taking in the sights and smells, breathing in the thick rancid air of a million people crammed together. Onlookers gawked at us as we zipped through the maze of stone spires in downtown, flying past churches, government buildings and commercial towers that jutted defiantly into the sky. I mused for a moment about what kind of destruction I could cause in a city build almost entirely of stone, but I shook the thought from my mind. What fun would Drastin be if it was rubble?

Now that we’d melded, Corruption didn’t speak to me, but thrummed steadily in my mind, a calming whisper of nihilistic indifference. Do what you want, Willowbud; what does it matter? the whisper seemed to say, and I readily complied with it. It was a much easier set of rules to follow than my father’s, don’t swear, don’t kill, don’t show them what you are, though, the last one was something I generally still abided by. For now. I directed Astrid to fly into the brothel district, my old stomping grounds. We landed in the middle of a busy street, sending pedestrians sprawling to avoid the fourteen-feet of incoming wings. I gave Astrid a congratulatory smack on the ass for a successful landing, and then hopped off.

Whispers and exclamations greeted my ears. “Valkyrie!” they yelled, “Iona!” they shouted, “Night Eyes!” they gasped, “she’s back!” they whispered. The crowd’s mood changed from awe at the sight of the majestic Astrid, to fear at the sight of me. I grinned at their horrified faces; they had good reason to be afraid. People averted their gazes, shutters were slammed above me, doors were locked and ‘closed’ signs were hung. I laughed a heartily at my reception, took my vehicle by her hand, and made my way to my old safehouse.

“The Screeching Siren” wasn’t the most ostentatious of brothels, but it wasn’t the dirtiest either. Technically, I owned the place, but being a pimp was never my calling. Playing with the merchandise is fun, but actually selling it is another story. When I opened the door to the brothel, my ears were assaulted with the laughs, yells, moans and screams I was accustomed to. When I walked in, the place quieted with each of my footfalls until my boots hitting the wooden floor was all anyone could hear. All eyes were on me, and I took a moment to bask in the fear.

“Night Eyes?” a deep, gruff voice asked from behind the bar. I turned to my left, and smiled at Gronk. He was seven feet of muscle, tusk and dreadlocks, with a canvas of green skin over his bulging form. The orc struck an intimidating figure, lessened only by the round spectacles that were too small for his face.

“Hello Gronk,” I smiled easily to my old comrade. “Where the fuck is everyone else?”

It didn’t take long for Gronk to roundup the rest of the gang. There was Terry, a squirmy human with a talent for lock picking; Flendian, a dark-elf with a penchant for stabbing people; Hacksaw, a brutish half-giant who used his fists to solve every problem; and Grunt, my second-in-command, a dwarf who enjoyed cooking food almost as much as he enjoyed cooking people alive. The six of us sat around a large oaken table as Astrid stood straight-backed and nervous behind me.

“So, Night Eyes,” Flendian grinned across from me, his tan skin and dark eyes almost making him handsome, “you gonna tell us where the fuck you’ve been this past year?”

“I went to Terondia to visit your mother,” I smirked back, “she had some back problems I helped her straighten out. Now she has walking problems, but what can I do?”

“We’re never getting a straight answer out of ya, are we?” Hacksaw said, his massive frame taking up an entire side of the table, his scarred face a testament to his days as a fighter in the Pit.

“No,” I replied, “so don’t bother asking.”

“Are you going to at least tell us about her?” Terry asked, gesturing to Astrid. “She doesn’t look like the kind of company you usually keep.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Grunt chuckled, eyeing the valkyrie with greedy eyes. “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss, you are the hottest piece of ass I’ve ever seen.”

Astrid did not reply. I suspected it was because she was waiting for me to give her permission to speak, more than it was her obvious disdain for the dwarf.

“Say ‘thank you,’ Astrid,” I sneered over my shoulder.

“Thank you,” Astrid said, unable to keep the contempt and disgust out of her voice.

“Ah, she doesn’t like me,” Grunt said with mock indignation, running a hand over his bald head and into his black beard, “and here I was being so polite to her.”

“So,” Terry said, leaning forward, “where’d you find her?”

“You know about my… secret, right?” I said, subtly moving a stone across the table without touching it. The men nodded, not daring to speak of it aloud.

“Well, there’s a whole mountain of these bitches,” I said with a smile, gesturing over my shoulder, “and they worship me like a fucking god!”

“That’s just your luck!” Gronk said, his deep voice practically vibrating the glassware on the table. “I can’t get pussy unless I hold it down or buy it, and you’ve got a mountain of beauties who will do anything you want!”

“Anything,” I smiled, “but don’t worry, boys; I’ll let her prove it to you later.”

The gang collectively turned their eyes to Astrid, and I could practically smell her terror, disgust and contempt, but she didn’t say a word, and she didn’t move a muscle. Good girl.

“But, before we get to the fun,” I said, drawing my gang’s attention back to me, “I want to know what the state of things are.”

“Well, as you can imagine,” Grunt said, clearing his throat, “not great. Once you left (without telling anyone, I might add), things got… bad. With you behind us, we were punching way above our weight class, but once you left, we couldn’t keep it going. We tried to pretend you were still around to keep the sharks at bay, but then they started taking little bites, and we couldn’t bite back. Gloria’s gang struck first, then Vistir’s, then Ryan’s. We lost the docks, we lost the corners, and we lost every brothel but this one. The only reason we managed to keep this place was because we were too small-time for Vistir and Ryan to give a shit about, and they got back to killing each other.”

“And Gloria?” I asked, her name foul in my mouth.

“Oh, you know her,” Grunt chuckled, “she holds a grudge. I guess being thousands of years old allows for vengeance to simmer. We bolt our doors at night, and keep an astral sunbeam on at all times.”

“Vampires,” Terry spat, refilling the mugs and passing them out, “fucking rats.”

“How big is the tag on my head?” I asked.

“Fifteen-thousand from Gloria,” Flendian said. “Ryan and Vistir matched that, but after you didn’t come back, they pulled the offer.”

“But she kept it up, huh?” I smiled. It was nice to have someone who hated me that much.

“Like I said, she holds a grudge,” Grunt said, shrugging. “I’ve got to be honest with you, Night Eyes; flying in here on a fucking valkyrie wasn’t exactly subtle. People are going to tell Gloria you’re here—WHAT THE F—”

There were three things I sensed within the blink of an eye: the whoosh of something heavy moving with blinding speed, the wind of it breathing past my ear, and a metallic flash that moved with such swiftness, its path was a single image of arcing, gleaming steel. Astrid’s massive sword split the thick oak table in half so cleanly that it didn’t even splinter, and Terry’s head rolled across its surface, his eyes writhing in his dead skull. His fist clutched the handle of the mug he’d been passing to me, and a thin packet of powder slipped from his twitching fingers. I dipped my thumb into the substance and sniffed it. Belladonna Nightshade.

“Looks like Gloria already knows,” I muttered to Grunt, and picked up Terry’s decapitated head as Astrid sheathed her sword. I turned Terry’s face to each member of my gang, and stared coldly into their eyes.

“You all know what I am,” I said quietly, making them look at Terry as they matched by gaze, “you all know what I do to people who fuck with me. Terry is the lucky one, gentlemen; remember that. Astrid is quick and painless, but I am not.”

Each man held my eyes without faltering, their expressions as cold as their killer’s eyes. I was satisfied that I didn’t have any more traitors seated with me, but I kept Terry’s head as a decorative piece just in case any of them needed a healthy reminder. Gronk unceremoniously pushed Terry’s body to the side, and no one so much as blinked an eye over the death of a man they’d known for thirteen years.

“That one,” Hacksaw said, pointing a meaty finger at Astrid, “needs to fight in The Pit.”

“Fuck yeah, she does,” Gronk said, a touch of awe in his baritone voice as he stared at the valkyrie. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast; not even vampires, and those fuckers are like lightning.”

“That draw,” Flendian said, mimicking the motion with his hand, “to move a blade that heavy, that quickly; Night Eyes, I hope you’re not going to waste her in the brothels.”

“That was exactly what I was going to do.”

“We could make a fortune off her as a whore,” Grunt said, leaning forward on his elbows toward me, “but we could build an empire on that blade, Night Eyes. The Pit is the beating heart of this city, and I know how you like to be perceived.”

“Are you calling me vain, Grunt?” I asked with a smirk.

“You’re fucking right I am,” Grunt grinned. “You don’t do what we do for the money, the women or the men; you do it because you like the way people look at you when you walk down the street. You didn’t fly into this city on the back of a fucking angel, knowing half this town wants you dead, to avoid attention.”

“Think of the opportunity!” Flendian hissed excitedly. “The Pit champions are all brutes; orcs, ogres, trolls and half-giants; hardly the sort that gain the people’s adoration.” He looked unapologetically at Gronk and Hacksaw, but they just nodded in agreement.

“It’s a place of brawn and savagery,” Hacksaw said, flexing a massive arm. “Fancy faggot fencers get buried before they can even make the tournament.”

“Drastin starves for a real champion,” Flendian said, looking appraisingly up at Astrid. “Someone they can adore, someone they can romanticize, someone they can idolize, someone they want to fuck. A shining beacon—a hero, if you will. Night Eyes,” Flendian said in a hushed voice, “if you play this right, that valkyrie will be on the lips of every crier on every street corner by the end of the week. By the end of a fortnight, she’ll be more famous than the fucking king.”

“And whoever owns her,” Grunt smiled, “owns that fame. You want to carve your name onto the face of this city?” Grunt gestured to the gash in the table. “Do it with that blade.”

If I wanted to carve my name onto this city, I literally would, I mused to myself. I’d carve it from the docks to the west gate. Hell, I could kill Vistir, Ryan, and even that bitch Gloria without so much as breaking a sweat, but there’s no fun in that. Grunt’s right, I don’t play the game for rational reasons; I play it because it’s fun. I looked down at the poison that had been meant for me, And the deadlier the game, the more fun it is. What game is deadlier than the Pit?

“Astrid,” I said, looking at the statuesque Nordic beauty, “how would you like to be my champion?”

“Killing for sport is against the codes of the Iona Guard,” Astrid said. “It is an evil—”

“Fuck your codes!” I laughed, turned away from the dejected valkyrie, picked up Terry’s severed head, and raising it aloft, “To Astrid!” I toasted merrily. “The Avenging Angel, The Winged-Executioner, the future-fucking-champion of Drastin!”

“To Astrid!” my gang toasted back, raising their mugs in place of decapitated heads, and then drinking deeply.

“Right,” I said, getting up and taking a firm grip of Astrid’s leather-clad ass, “now who wants to fuck her?”


“Those two,” the guard at the city gate said, gesturing to Justina and Tera, “need to be registered before they can enter.”

“They what?” I asked.

“The succubi cannot enter the city until they’ve put their names on the prostitution registry.”

“They’re not whores.”

“Then they can’t come in,” the guard replied frankly. “All succubi are restricted to the brothel district. It’s nothing personal lad, my brother is married to a succubus—the fucking simp—but the king can’t have magical seductresses running around town turning honest folk into slaves.”

I sighed, and turned to Tera. “Can we meet your contact in a whore-house?” I asked.

“She wouldn’t meet us there,” Tera frowned. “Too many prying ears.”

“Mom,” Justina whispered, “maybe you should drop some names.”

“I still have some pride, Justina,” Tera hissed back. “We’ll just have to make do.”

“Drop names?” I asked.

“My humble country-girl of a mother is actually royalty,” Justina smirked. “Her sister is the newly-crowned arch-matriarch of Arbortus.”

“Bullshit,” I said, gawking at Tera.

“It’s true,” Justina smiled as Tera scowled. “Mom’s sister is Flora Autumnsong.”

“But, you’re a succubus,” I said slowly, “and Autumnsong is a nymph. So… genetics and shit.”

“Our father was an incubus,” Tera said, working her lips like the words tasted foul in her mouth, “and having an incubus in your lineage is like playing roulette with your family tree. I was born a succubus, but my precious sister was born a perfect, little, nymph. Rumor has it that her daughter was born a mutated freak, so I guess karma found its way into her womb.”

“You sound bitter,” I snorted.

“They kicked me out of Arbortus once I started maturing,” Tera said. “They said I was too dangerous to keep in the colony, so they put me on a boat with a sack of gold, and shipped me off. Flora was particularly delighted, seeing as how I got all the boys she wanted. Bitch.”

“Can we use it to our advantage?” I asked Tera, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Right now’s not the time for prideful decisions.”

Tera worked her jaw a little longer, seeming to acclimate her palate to the taste of the choice. She finally relented, reached into her pouch, and pulled out a set of frayed documents that looked hundreds of years old. She handed them to the guard, who paged through them with bored disinterest.

“These papers were dated the fourth of summer season, fifteen-hundred-fifty-two since the last cycle,” the guard said looking up from the yellowed pages. “It is the thirty-sixth of spring season, twenty-one-thirty-nine.”

“Yeah, I’m fucking old,” Tera grumbled, “are they still valid?”

“They bare the Arbortus seal,” the guard conceded, “a really old print of it, but still recognized. You may enter without registering, Tera Autumnsong, but you’ll need to wear this badge…” the guard dug into a sack to his left and pulled out an embroidered patch, “…that marks you as a royal diplomat. This one, though,” the guard said, gesturing to Justina, “will still have to register.”

Tera looked like she’d object, but Justina put a hand on her mother’s shoulder and nodded. She signed the registry, sewed the whore’s patch to her cloak, and the three of us (four of us) walked through the gates of the largest city in the world.

“Holy shit,” I gasped. The walls of Drastin had concealed the city from view, but now that we were inside, its enormity was overwhelming. Every street was a trench; the buildings running endlessly on either side, connecting wall-to-wall with different facades, standing fifty feet high at their shortest stature. Behind the maze of continuous buildings, I saw the tops of towers reaching for the sky. The downtown of the metropolis was decorated with stone spires that speared the skyline hundreds of feet up, creating a gapless wall of architecture that cast its shadows over the entire city. I saw more people on one block than I’d seen in my entire life, and the churning, chaotic life of this place intimidated me. The others did not share in my fear. Tera regarded the city with passing interest, Justina was giddy with excitement, and Angela was bursting from Justina’s mouth with even greater exuberance.

“Oh my god!” Angela squealed from Justina’s mouth. “Look at all the… everything!”

“It sure is a lot,” I said, my voice small in my throat. Tera heard the anxiety in my voice, and pressed her comforting body closer to me.

“You’ll be fine,” she smiled, “the trick is to blend in. Just follow my lead, and don’t gawk at everything you see.”

“We’ll be in the brothel district,” Justina said from my other side. “I’ll take care of Angela, Brandon, don’t worry about her. It’s not like she can die twice, anyway.”

“You will do no such thing!” Tera snapped. “You’re staying with me the whole time!”

“I think it would be unwise for us to break the law the moment we enter the city, Mother,” Justina said practically, fingering her whore’s patch. “So unless you’re relocating your meeting to a brothel, we’re going to have to split up.”

“Take off that fucking patch!” Tera spat, reaching for Justina’s cloak. “You are not—”

“Mom,” Justina said, putting a calming hand atop her mother’s, “I’m almost nineteen, and you still feed me like I’m a babe. We’re not in Towerhead anymore; no one’s coming to burn us, and I need some independence.”

Tera’s hand stilled, and her concerned face softened to one of melancholy. “You’re going to feed yourself, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

“I am,” Justina said, clasping her other hand atop her mother’s. “It’s time, Mom; it’s well-past time, actually.”

“I should be there for it,” Tera said, her voice verging on tears. “I should be present when you become a woman. You need someone there to—”

Justina pulled her mother into an embrace, and locked lips with the woman. Angela screamed out of Justina’s body as mother and daughter exchanged tongues and spit.

“Goddamn it, Justina!” Angela’s flustered ethereal face yelled from above. “You were supposed to warn me before you tongue-punched your mom’s face!”

Tera could not hear the ghost, but I saw Justina’s consuming lips curve in a slight grin as she drank of her mother’s lust. The two succubi held each other for a moment longer, and then separated, their bronze fingers in their black manes, their violet eyes staring their love.

“I already am a woman, Mom,” Justina smiled, caressing Tera’s face, “now let me be a woman.”

“Ok Justina,” Tera whispered, a tear running down her smiling face, “you’re right; I’ve been too protective. You’re not my baby girl anymore.” She cupped her daughter’s cheek, and then gave her a final kiss, “You and Angela go have fun,” she sniffled, “we’ll meet at the Oxehead’s Inn tonight.”


I’d anticipated that Mistress would make me please her men; she said as much before we left for Drastin. I just didn’t think she was going to make me do it in front of the entire brothel. I stood atop the table I’d just decapitated a man on, and I took off my armor piece by piece to the jeers and whistles of every whore and patron. These wretched creatures were so far beneath me, they were the dregs of the world, commoners without code or honor, yet I was their entertainment. A stronger valkyrie would be furious, my mother would have dealt out justice with cold wrath, but I only felt fear and shame. Bravery isn’t the lack of fear, I told myself, remembering the oaths of the Iona Guard, bravery is facing it.

“Mistress,” I whispered to the corrupted god standing next to me atop the table, “I saved your life.”

“And I’m grateful,” Mistress said, her black and green eyes smirking back up at me, “and this is your reward; look how much everyone loves you! Aren’t you happy to be getting so much attention? Does my reward not please you?”

I was naïve, but I wasn’t stupid enough to say ‘yes.’ I unstrapped the leather that bound my torso, and let it fall to the tabletop. I’d already taken off my shoulder-armor, my calf guards, and the padded skirt that concealed my thighs. All that was left were my breast wrap and loin strap. My audience seemed to think that I was giving them a little strip tease, but in reality, I’d been delaying exposing myself in the vain hope that Mistress would be merciful after I’d saved her. She was not, of course, and my overlong undressing only served to rile up the crowd more. I stared outwardly in half-lucid terror, a fugue state of fear and humiliation where every leering face gawked with wide greedy eyes, and every jeering mouth slurred their tones with malice. They were demons, and I was in the pit of hell. I shakenly hooked my finger beneath the clasp of my chest wrap, and pulled it loose. The crowd cheered as my ample breasts jiggled freely from their prison, my nipples standing erect and pointing lewdly at the audience. I was too ashamed to blush, too humiliated to cast my eyes downward. I looked at everyone and no one as I numbly reached down, and pulled my legs out of the loin strap.

“Astrid of Iona!” Mistress exclaimed to the crowd, gesturing dramatically to my naked figure as the onlookers cheered. I wanted to cover myself with my hands, I wanted to fold my wings over my naked body and hide from the world, but I did not. Mistress was still my god, and I would do what she wanted. I stood stoically atop the table, trying desperately to keep from breaking down and crying. Stay strong, I told myself, endure it like a warrior; don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

“Well,” Mistress said, looking up at me, “are you going to show your fans your assets?”

“My… what?” I asked, my voice small in my mouth.

“Bend over,” Mistress said cruelly, “and spread your cheeks. Oh, and arch your back a little, and smile, Astrid; we wouldn’t want to give off the impression that you’re not enjoying yourself.”

I turned around, bent until my torso was parallel to the tabletop, reached back, and took a deep breath. I grabbed the succulent fat of my glutes, looked over my shoulder, and glued on a pained smile as I exposed my lewdness to everyone. They cheered louder than ever, and I felt a single tear draw down my cheek, thankfully on the side of my face concealed from the audience. Don’t let them see it.

“Oh,” Mistress cooed in false consolation, wiping the tear from my face, “it’s good to know that this is such a happy moment for you; I was worrying that you didn’t like my gift.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said in a shaking voice, my brain seared with the images of the crowd’s predatory faces.

“I got you another present,” Mistress said, portraying a façade of girlish shyness with her hands clasped behind her back, “I hope you like it.”

Her mouth smiled with affection, but her eyes smirked with malevolence; it was a dog collar and leash. I submissively bowed my head for her, and she clasped the last piece of shame around my figure of humiliation. I looked down and saw the word ‘slut’ glinting from the tag that dangled from the collar. Mistress pushed her hand on my backside, and I dropped to my knees like the loyal bitch she’d labeled me as.

Remember the oaths of the Iona Guard, I told myself, ‘though I may die upon the rocks, I will die with my sword in hand.’ You will be taken, but you will not succumb to them. You will endure this, and remain yourself.

“Ladies and gentlemen, whores and johns,” Mistress called, “I present: Gronk, Hacksaw, Flendian and Grunt; the men you’re all wishing you were right now!”

Cheers and applause sounded from the crowd as the four men approached the table at the center of the brothel. Mistress pulled on my collar, and I was forced into a kneeling position with my back held straight; subservient and demure, ready for my gifts. A chill ran up my spine as all of them climbed atop the table together.

“All four of them, Mistress?” I asked, unable to conceal the fear from my demeanor. “At once?!”

“Five if you count me,” Mistress smirked, “or do you not desire me any longer?”

“Of course, I do,” I stammered, feeling my face flush, “but… how?”

In my mind, sex only happened between two people. Never in my wildest nightmares had I imagined an act with more than one other person, much less five! My god was more than willing to explain it to me.

“You have two hands, don’t you?” Mistress asked. I nodded.

“And a mouth,” Mistress said, touching her thumb to my trembling lips, “and a cunt, and last of all, you have an asshole. That makes five, which is just perfect for us.”

I could practically feel myself growing pale. My anus?! Why would anyone want to put anything there?! Oh Great Creators, they’re going to tear me to pieces!

The men made a show of hyping up the crowd, working them into a frenzy as I felt myself growing weak with terror. My stomach churned, my head grew faint, and my heart sank in my chest.

Stay strong; it’s only pain. The men turned around, casting their merciless greedy eyes on me, surrounding my kneeling form, pulling their pants down and showing me the instruments of my torture. Flendian was blessedly normal as far as I could tell, while Grunt was thick and stout, Gronk was way too big, and Hacksaw… there was no way Hacksaw was fitting anywhere, but by the look on his face, I could tell he was going to try. Mistress ranked somewhere between Grunt and Gronk, and I stared fearfully at the thing I once craved for. She tugged on my leash and jerked me forward as Gronk clasped a strong hand about the braided crown of my head. I opened my mouth to scream, and regretted it instantly.

The orc’s cock rammed between my lips, expanded my jaw and buried into my throat. I gagged ferociously, feeling on the verge of vomiting, but my experience with Willowbud the day before saved me from making a mess. His pelvis mushed into my face, and the stink of his loins wafted into my squished nose. Spit leaked from my defiled mouth, tears streaked from my bulging eyes, and a scream choked from my stuffed throat. The crowd roared as Gronk pulled out, strings of spit and precum snapping from my violated lips. I was allowed a precious moment to cough and prepare myself before he grabbed two handfuls of my braids, and rammed in again, and again and again. My hair flailed, my throat gurgled, and my face pressed mercilessly into the flat of his pelvis. Two hands grabbed my own, and I felt my fingers closing around Flendian and Grunt. I stroked them dutifully, rigorously, hoping beyond hope that I could finish them off before they entered me. I felt familiar hands reaching between my legs, and I looked around the bulging piece of meat violating my throat to see Mistress smiling up at me as she positioned herself between my legs. Her hands spread my legs further, and her wonderful heat pushed inside me. For a moment, I felt some of the pleasure I had shared with her the day before, but that joy was dashed when I came to a sickening realization that Hacksaw was walking behind me. NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!

“Are you ready, Astrid?” Mistress laughed beneath me, holding herself static in my pussy as she spread my cheeks for the half-giant. “Because this is going to hurt like nothing you’ve ever felt before.”

I abandoned trying to stroke Grunt and Flendian to completion, and instead, pushed against Gronk’s pelvis with all my might. It was useless, the orc was too strong. I contemplated for a desperate moment about biting down, but he never gave me the chance. He pulled out just as I felt an alien pressure against my puckered anus. My head whipped around, and I stared at Hacksaw with all the pleading, manic terror I could muster.

“Don’t!” I screamed, but he just squirted olive oil onto his enormous phallus, and grinned. The scars on his face deepened with his cruel mirth, and he pushed forward. The pressure increased, and I began to writhe and struggle atop Mistress. Grunt and Flendian caught hold of my flailing wrists, and Hacksaw pinned me atop Mistress with a firm hand to my tailbone. The pressure increased. I felt my pelvic floor indenting, the skin of my taint stretching as it was pushed inward. The pressure increased. The tiny aperture of my filthy hole dilated, and I shrieked in terror as it slowly expanded. The crowd cheered and laughed as I thrashed desperately; my hips wriggling, my legs kicking, and my arms straining with all their might. The pressure increased, and increased, and increased. I looked around frantically, searching for anything that could stop this, anyone that could save me. There was no one. I was in hell. The pressure broke.

My head reeled backward, my hips slammed downward, my back bowed in a spine-cracking arch as my mouth shrieked until the sound left my chest. I felt myself stretch around him, expand beyond my limits, cling to him in a hold so tight it seemed that my gripping circle would tear. He pushed through the tender coil of my anus, flattened my rectal sheath against the muscles of my insides, and forced my bowels into my own body. He kept going; gradually opening my locked channel, burning his heat into the reaches of my most sensitive entrance, fighting against my shitting muscles and pressing through virgin flesh that was never meant to feel the touch of another. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt, beyond anything I’d endured in training or combat. It was an invasion of my very essence, of my pride and sanctity, but my thoughts had long since passed such trivial matters. I was agony, the very embodiment of it, and then… then I was something else.

His pelvis finally pressed against my cheeks, and he held me there in stasis, forcing me to acclimate to him. Through gritted teeth that leaked with spit, and bulging eyes that blurred with tears, I adapted to him. I surrendered myself to his invasion, I loosened the tension in my body, and I felt myself grow limp where I had been clenching. There was a moment of what I can only describe as peace; a blissful serenity where I simply gave up, and allowed it to happen. The pain began to dissipate, the tension began to unwind, and I began… to like it. It was absurd, really, to garner pleasure from something that had been so excruciating, to enjoy something so disgusting and wrong, but I couldn’t lie to myself; I liked it. I liked it a lot. For if a place was so sensitive that it could inflict such pain, then it could just as easily give me great pleasure, and he stretched me so much that my entire rectal channel was taut and clinging to him, every nerve stimulated by some surface of his reaming meat. I could feel his heartbeat through the throbs of his shaft, and I could feel his tip breaching the sphincter of my colon, opening my bowels for his pleasure. For my pleasure. The scream that had passed through my lips waned and died, and I became languid atop my god. My breasts pressed into hers, my belly unclenched and distended into her warm stomach, and my quivering tensed thighs sloped into a spread-legged sprawl. I could feel her cock pressing against Hacksaw’s from the other side, I could feel them stretching my taint into a flat glistening ribbon, I could feel them pulsating against the vulnerable spaces within me, and I could feel myself leaking from the arousal of it all. They began to thrust, and I began to moan. What are you doing?! Stop! Don’t give them the satisfaction! Fight it! Remember your oaths!

“Do you like it, Astrid?” Mistress grinned up at me, her head titled back in pleasure, her black eyes cast downward and her lips parted.

“Yes Mistress!” I moaned a whining, whorish tone I’d never expressed before. “I don’t want to, but it feels too good!”

“You’re getting gangraped in front of everyone, and you’re moaning like a used whore,” Mistress chuckled, squeezing my breasts viciously, prompting my whining moan to raise in pitch as I savored the wonderful pain. “I’m disappointed, Astrid; I thought you had more fight in you.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress!” I cried in shame and pleasure, shifting backward to take them as deeply as I could, “but I can’t help myself!”

Hacksaw was thrusting with long, gradual motions, penetrating deeply, forcing me to feel every inch of his girth as it ruined me. I felt cool air on the sheath of my anus, and realized in a mixture of horror and arousal that part of me was clinging to him as he pulled out. I looked back, and my eyes widened as I saw pink glistening flesh wrapped around the first few inches of the half-giant. He grinned wickedly at my astonished expression, and I couldn’t keep myself from returning a slutty smile back. Get a hold of yourself, woman! That bastard is raping you! Instead of scowling at him, however, I bit my lip with playful exuberance, and began shifting my hips back. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Mistress locked into Hacksaw’s rhythm, and ran alongside him against my fleshy division, pressing my nerve-wracked membrane with their vile heat, squishing it between their torturing members. I let out a delighted giggle that was punctuated with breathy moans, and I winked at the half-giant as I winked my anus around him. You’ll never save Willowbud if you fall so easily. My back arched behind me, curving my ass upward to deepen my penetration, moving on whorish instincts that alarmed me with how natural they came. You can’t even save yourself. My conscience battled with my pleasure, creating a duality of shame and indulgence, but oh gods, the shame made it better! Mistress sunk her fingers into the fat of my ass, spread me wide, and then hammered into me with brutal motions. Hacksaw gripped my hips and matched Mistress’s pace, smashing his pelvis into me with thrusts that sent my body lurching, impaling me so deeply I could feel him in my guts, stretching me so wide he rubbed against Mistress with each horrific plunge into my ruined channel, now just a stinking fleshy tunnel that clung loosely to his grotesque fat meat, a shithole for a pig. Oh, how I loved it! I writhed between them, moving with chaotic mania, reacting violently to every motion, reveling in the depravity, relishing the pain that heightened the pleasure, screaming and wailing like the whore Mistress wanted me to be. I wanted to sew my lips shut and endure it with valkyrie stoicism, but each attempt to keep my honor was feeble in the heat of such sensations, a raping so pleasurable that my very voice was forced against its will to sing out my ecstasy!

The crowd roared their approval at my lost equanimity, cheering my name as I grinded desperately between my molesters. Their attention no longer humiliated me, but excited me, even flattered me. They weren’t here to leer and insult, but to bear witness to my lust, to watch me perform something extraordinary. They’re here to watch a valkyrie break all her oaths. They’re here to see you betray yourself and your entire people, and you enjoy their attention. You’re pathetic.

I smiled up at Gronk, and he grinned down at me. How could I have ever thought he was ugly? His body was laced with chords of muscles, his hair framed his fearsome face in black dreads, and his cock stood rigid and veiny, waiting for me to taste his delicious filth. My smile widened to gaping quirked lips, and I drew out my tongue as I took his entire length into me. You covet the lust of beasts. You’re no better than a succubus.

Gods, it felt good to be so full. Every hole was stuffed, every possibility was exploited. I indulged in the excess of men, greedily took in all that I could, reveled in the extravagance of my sexual avarice. I reached to my sides, and covetously wrapped my fingers around Grunt of Flendian. I stroked them softly, alluringly, no longer trying to finish them off, but preparing them for their turns inside me. Does everyone get a turn in you? Why not let the whole brothel have their fill, you pathetic whore! My hips rocked back and forth behind me; my pussy consuming Mistress with clenching muscles, and my anus simply opening to accept the stretching impalement of Hacksaw. I could feel my insides being forced upward between them, I could feel the indentation of Mistress’s cock protruding from my pelvis, and I could feel my anus gaping; every sensitive, vulnerable swath of flesh brutally stimulated to the point of numbing euphoria. I hummed my whorish moans around Gronk’s cock, translating the pleasure of my penetration into the passionate consumption of his wonderful shaft. I stared up at him with baby-eyes as I rotated my lips around his base, laughing a muffled tone when he groaned in satisfaction. Mistress wasn’t lying; I really was good at sucking dick. And you’re proud of that?! I was.

“Goddamn Astrid, you’re so fucking tight right now!” Mistress moaned as she thrust into me. “There’s hardly any room for me!”

“I’m taking up all the real-estate,” Hacksaw laughed, giving me a vicious smack on the ass that almost made me come. “Apologies to the rest of you; it’s gonna be like an arrow through a canyon.”

“I’m not opposed to sharing,” Gronk laughed, petting my hair as I sucked him, “what do you think Astrid; can you take two of us back there?”

Don’t you fucking say it!

“Sure, Gronk,” I sneered deviously from below his shaft, “but I get the feeling that you just want an excuse to cross swords with your friend.”

“Maybe I’ll fence with Hacksaw right now,” he growled, and plunged deep into my throat. I took him easily, swallowed until he was practically whimpering, then withdrew with an evil grin.

“Yeah,” I snarled, “tastes just like faggot.”

“Holy shit!” Flendian laughed as my hand rand covetously along his length, “Where did Astrid go? This cannot be the same woman!”

“No,” Mistress smiled into my eyes as she ran her hands up the curves of my writhing body, “she’s not.”

“I am still me,” I practically growled the words as Hacksaw drove his final thrusts into my ruined gape, “nothing has changed! I haven’t changed!”

But you have, my conscience grimly spoke, because valkyries can’t lie, and you just did.

“You’re no good at lying, Astrid,” Mistress moaned as she gripped my breasts, “but it’s interesting to hear you try.”

“No…” I whimpered, feeling the horror of it mixing with the mind-breaking pleasure, “no… I can’t speak untruths.”

“I guess truth is a funny thing,” Mistress smirked as she pinched her fingers about my erect nipples, and twisted, “it means different things to different people. Do you want Gronk and Flendian to fuck you in the ass?”

“Yes!” I croaked as Hacksaw gripped my hips in a vice-hold, his hands so large that is thumbs connected around the small of my back.

“That was honest,” Mistress giggled as she twisted and pulled, stretching my jiggling breasts to conical points, sending wonderful stings into my chest. “Do you want Hacksaw to come inside your virgin shithole?”

“Yes!” I shrieked as the half-giant’s thrusts became more and more violent, ripping my prolapsed anus from my body with each pull, and forcing it back inside with each impaling thrust. “Great Creators, I want his seed inside me! I want to be overflowing with it!”

“I don’t know much about the Iona Guard oaths,” Mistress smiled, still twisting and pulling, still torturing me with delightful agony, “but I seem to remember you saying that putting yourself beneath another for pleasure is a big no-no. Is enjoying getting gangraped in front of an entire brothel against your rules, or is there an exception to that?”

“It is disgraceful!” I shrieked, my chest jutting forward, my hips pushing desperately behind me, trying to take every inch of Hacksaw and Mistress that I could. “I am a disgrace to my order!”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re too broken-up about it,” Mistress laughed, torquing the succulent flesh of my breasts into spiraling creases of mammary fat. “Why don’t you abandon your honor, cast out your old self, and join me completely? There’s no shame if you have no shame.”

“No,” I said, my voice breaking as my climax began to roil in my depths, loosening the taut strings of my sanity. “I will stay myself, and I will save you. I will come back from this defeat.”

“There’s no coming back from this,” Mistress said. She released my breasts, wrapped her hands around my throat, and matched Hacksaw’s fervent pace. The two of them tore through my insides with wanton abandon, and I screamed higher and higher, my choked voice echoing in the brothel over the cheers of my audience. I basked in their attention; spreading my wings wide, arching my back, raising my head to the ceiling as Mistress’s fingers constricted my curved-back throat. Watch me, I thought, much to the dismay of my conscience, fill your eyes with my angelic depravity. You’ve never seen anything like me before. I grinded atop Mistress and Hacksaw as I readied the men at my sides, my lustful strokes becoming urgent pulls as the pleasure burned into my mind. My rectum convulsed with spasms, twitching pathetically in its prolapsed state, clinging tightly to the man sodomizing me. My pussy frothed around Mistress’s ramming member, my petals glistening and swollen between my legs, my womanly channel clenching with the sporadic jolts of euphoria. The feelings culminated together, expanding within me, growing more and more intense, breaking my body and mind. My eyes rolled back in my head, my tongue hung loosely in my mouth, my figure writhed and shifted in simple reaction, no longer controlled by any sort of rationality, but enslaved to the perverse whims of my lust.

I may break all of my oaths, I thought through my screams, through my ecstasy, through my corrupting mind, I may betray everything I stand for, but I will save you, Willowbud. I will find a way. I clung to that thought as I abandoned the vows of my order, and gave in to the depravity of my flesh. Only for now, I told myself, you will come back to yourself after this is over; you haven’t changed.

I lied to myself again.


I held Brandon’s arm as we walked down the narrow backstreets of Drastin. The buildings loomed over us, encasing us in the darkness of their shadows, never allowing the sun to shine against the cobblestones. I suspected my contact lived in this part of the city for that exact reason. We were definitely in the seedier part of town. Goblins and orcs strolled around in bands, the crazies hugged the shadows, and an ancient ogre prophesized the end times from his pulpit of crates. Brandon gulped nervously at my side, and I looked up at him with a fond smile. I felt a little guilty about trying to enslave him, but I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. I had hoped that once I got my claws in him, he’d misinterpret his lustful devotion as love and bind with me, but he was too strong for me to take. After what I’d attempted, I doubted Brandon would ever bind with me, but I still wanted to be with him. Whatever Brandon did, wherever he went, history would be made, and I wanted to be a part of it. The world was standing on the precipice of either something great, or something terrible, and Brandon needed friends like me to guide him to the better path. Besides that, I quite liked the boy. He was funny, awkward in an endearing way, and great in bed. Even after three days, I still walked with a slight limp; a constant reminder of Brandon’s wonderful version of divine retribution. I rested my head on his shoulder, and stared up at him with adoring eyes.

“What?” Brandon asked, wearing a nervous smile. He tried to appear casual and confident, but he moved with all the grace of a sodomized giraffe. The city really was not for him.

“I was just thinking about Justina,” I said with a sad smile. “I had hoped you’d be her first, but it seems she’s too impatient.”

“I’m not doing anything with her until Angela’s out of her head.”

“You humans are so prudish about incest,” I smiled. “It’s completely normal in many races.”

“It might be normal for sex-fiends like you,” Brandon smirked down at me, “but it is not natural.”

“Yes, it is!” I insisted, “If you raise a family of dogs, cats, or any other manner of beasts, the brothers and the sisters will grow up, and they’ll mate with one another one-hundred percent of the time.”

“And then half their children will be born retarded,” Brandon countered, “and the other half will be sterile.”

“You know,” I smiled coyly as we rounded another corner, “when you make Angela a body, you’re going to have to make every part of it. You’re going to spend pain-staking hours working on each little detail of her pretty little pussy. If you want, you can model it after mine; then you won’t have to imagine what it’s like to be inside of her.”

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Brandon grumbled, though he was grinning.

“Oh, you know I am,” I smirked back, pressing my body deeper to his.

We stopped at the end of an alleyway, where a studded-iron wood door stood blandly against a stone wall. To most, it would seem an unimportant feature of an unimportant dead-end, but a knowing eye would spot the spiraled symbol carved into the flagstone next to the door. I drew my dagger, cut a thin line into the tip of my forefinger, and then let the blood drip onto the blood gemstone. The door opened with a foreboding creak, and a pair of crimson eyes peered at us from the dark.

“Tera Autumnsong,” a soft feminine voice whispered from the shadows, “I was delighted to get your message; I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.”

“Gloria,” I smiled, “it’s been too long.”

“Indeed, it has,” Gloria Titus said, flashing a smile that gleamed white in the darkness, displaying a set of sharp fangs, “and you brought me dinner, how kind.”

“Unfortunately, no,” I said, patting Brandon’s arm comfortingly before he pissed himself.

“Keeping this one for yourself, hmm?” Gloria replied, her red eyes searching me. “You certainly look well-fed.”

“He’s delicious,” I smirked, “but he’s not mine.”

“No, I see that now.” Gloria said, her gaze gleaming hungrily in the dark, studying the terrified god on my shoulder. “So, he’s not your dinner, and he’s not mine, and you brought him all the way from…” sniffing sounds wafted from the darkness as the vampire took Brandon into her nostrils, “…wheat, barley, cow shit… Towerhead? You still live in that shithole?”

“Hey!” Brandon exclaimed, “That’s my home you’re talking about!”

“And it’s a shithole,” Gloria responded, her red eyes narrowing, causing Brandon to shrink back, “but Tera’s never wasted my time before, so she must have a good reason for bringing a hillbilly to my doorstep. Come in, both of you.”

I dragged Brandon with me through the threshold, and the door promptly slammed behind us, the clang of the metal latch punctuating the sudden sound. Gloria was as stunning as she’d always been. She had the most pronounced cheekbones I’d ever seen, and they structured a face of gothic beauty. Full, blood-red lips matched the hue of her almond-shaped eyes and contrasted the unnatural paleness of her youthful complexion. Her dark eyebrows seemed to constantly bow inwardly, giving her portrait a menacing expression. Jet-black hair tumbled from her crown in luxuriant curls, and rested upon her narrow shoulders, framing a pale bosom that was barely contained in her corset. The rest of her body bowed in equal gracefulness beneath a tight-fitting skirt, her voluptuous outline matching my own curve-for-curve, with her breasts gaining a slight edge. You would never know that the vampire was three-thousand years old by the youth of her body, but by the aged wisdom in her perpetually-hungry eyes.

Her choice in home décor was as interesting as it had always been. A mural was painted on the domed ceiling, depicting a blood-orgy of debauchery, violence and torture, interrupted only by the extravagant chandelier that hung from its apex. The walls were lined with shelves supporting an immense wealth of books, the floor was covered with plush red carpeting, and the room was decorated with red silk drapes, red curtains and red upholstery bound to extravagant chairs. In one of those chairs, sat a very frightened-looking human girl, shakenly drinking wine and staring at the floor.

“If I had known you were feeding, I would have waited outside,” I frowned at Gloria.

“Oh, she’s not my meal,” Gloria replied with a wave of her hand. “She’s an honored guest, like yourself.”

“I’m sure,” I replied dryly to Gloria, “the line between guest and prisoner was always a thin one with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Gloria laughed, pouring three glasses of wine. “Alexa is here by her own volition. Her husband and I are business partners, of sorts.”

“We haven’t heard anything,” the woman named Alexa said fearfully, “Gloria, shouldn’t we have heard something by now?”

“Hush,” Gloria said softly, placing a calming hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Terry’s just being careful. Your husband is a cautious man, and if things are taking longer than we thought, it is only because he is waiting for the perfect opportunity. He’ll be walking through that door in due time, trust me.”

Alexa watched me with panic and contempt, her fingers twisting about the stem of her wine glass, her eyes narrowing at me as though my presence was an insult to her.

“When the door opened, I thought it would be him,” Alexa muttered to me, barely managing to bring the wine to her lips, “but it was you. I let my hope rise, and now it’s dashed all over again. I can’t keep waiting like this!”

“Drink,” Gloria said softly, pushing the bottom of Alexa’s glass so that it tilted back, “and calm your nerves, woman. Your husband is being brave for you, so you must be brave for him.”

The woman downed the glass of wine in a single pull as Gloria soothingly caressed her hair. The combination of wine and Gloria’s touch seemed to calm the woman, and she tentatively relaxed into her chair.

“Normally, I would’ve given you my undivided attention,” Gloria said to me as she handed Brandon and I our wine, “but something has come up.”

“Do I want to know what this something is?” I asked, studying the nervous woman.

“It shouldn’t be a concern;” Gloria replied tersely, “the matter will be taken care of shortly.” Gloria glanced over her shoulder, and then leaned in so that Alexa couldn’t hear, “But, if Gods forbid, the matter isn’t resolved, I sure could use a woman of your unique skill set.”

“Those days are behind me,” I said between a sip of wine. “I’m a mother now.”

“Are you?” Gloria said, displaying a delighted smile whose sharp fangs turned it into a predatory grin. “That’s wonderful!”

“Unique skill set?” Brandon asked, looking at me.

“I used to kill people for money,” I said to the god, much to Gloria’s surprise.

“That information was given out rather freely,” Gloria said, glancing from me to Brandon, who was staring at me with wide eyes. “Who is this boy, Tera?”

The light from the chandelier suddenly turned a deep crimson, marking someone’s blood on the spiraled symbol outside. Gloria grinned over her shoulder at Alexa, who returned it with a hopeful smile of her own. Gloria strode past us, a slight spring in her graceful gait, and she opened the door. There was a severed head lying atop the door’s symbol, and a shadowy figure disappearing behind the corner. There was a moment of stillness, and then a shrill, horrible scream erupted from behind us. Gloria solemnly closed the door as Alexa collapsed to the floor, screeching into the carpeting and shaking with bouts of hysteria. Brandon pulled me close, his body quivering horribly as he tried to find safety in my touch. Gloria made a beeline for the inconsolable widow. She took the screeching woman’s head in her hands, tilted it to the side, and then sunk her fangs into her exposed throat. Alexa’s wails died to a whimper as Gloria seeped her venom into the woman’s heart. She released Alexa from her hold, and then gazed into her filming eyes.

“Look here, Alexa,” Gloria said softly, touching foreheads with Alexa until their eyes were inches apart, “look into me, and look deeply.”

Alexa’s face slackened, her body relaxed, and she slowly collapsed into a languid sprawl on the floor. Gloria guided the woman to her back, never breaking eye contact. She held her gaze above Alexa’s face, and gently stroked the woman’s tear-streaked cheek as she cooed her soft manipulation.

“Terry died, and it was horrible,” Gloria whispered to the widow, “but you’ve recovered, Alexa; the worst is over. You’ve grieved enough, you’ve suffered enough, and now it’s time to move on.”

Alexa stared dumbly into Gloria’s eyes, transfixed by their crimson depths. “Yes,” Alexa whispered back, her mind seeming to shift to the whim of the vampire’s words, “I’ve grieved, I’ve suffered, and now I need to move on.”

“It’s not safe for you here,” Gloria said, tenderly brushing strands of blonde hair from the woman’s face, “you must leave Drastin. Take the emergency stash Terry left you, and start a new life under a new name.”

“Yes,” Alexa said, nodding slightly, “yes, I will go to Grundin, where my parents live.”

“Your journey will be long,” Gloria said, “so you must rest now, child, and when you awake, you will feel like a new woman. You will abandon this city of pain and suffering, and live the rest of your days with a light heart.”

Alexa’s eyes drooped, and then closed. A blissful smile creased her lips, and her chest began to rise and fall with the steady thrum of sleeping breaths. Gloria let out a sigh, brushed her black mane back, and then picked the widow up like she weighed nothing at all. She draped Alexa’s sleeping body into a loveseat in the corner, then grabbed a wine bottle, and began to chug.

“What kind of enemy do you have,” I said slowly, “that knows where you live and doesn’t kill you?”

Gloria held out a delaying finger, tipping the bottle back and draining the last of it. She set the bottle down, wiped purple wine from blood-red lips, and then collapsed into her chair.

“An enemy who thinks the proverbial game is just that,” Gloria said, massaging her temples, “a game. I’m not sure if Night Eyes is an anarchist, a terrorist, or just fucking insane, but she’s so far beyond me, Tera. I don’t know how she does what she does, but no matter what I do, no matter what I try, she outmaneuvers me like I’m a child, and then rubs my nose in the shit.”

“Stronger than you, Gloria?” I said, sitting down across from her. “What is she?”

“A nymph,” Gloria said, “no older than that boy you brought. She was a street urchin as far as I know, though her history is mostly hearsay. She got a reputation as a common thug with a penchant for the obscene, then one day, she decided robbing banks was boring, and she took out the Heslin, Nartok and M’nique gangs.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered, “she killed the leaders of three syndicates in a day?”

“Ha!” Gloria laughed dryly, taking Alexa’s wine glass off the floor and nursing it. “No, Tera; she killed every single one of them, from the bosses to the messenger boys, in three hours. By herself.”

My jaw clicked open. Nartok, Heslin and M’nique had at least sixty members a piece when I was last in Drastin, and that was two-hundred years ago. Nymphs could bind with astral beings, but there wasn’t an astral being alive strong enough to give anyone that kind of power. Unless….

“How did she kill them?” I asked.

“No one knows,” Gloria shrugged, “some of the bodies had holes wider than my foot, some of them were strewn as though the gangsters had turned on each other. Night Eyes usually lets her boys do her dirty work, but when she gets involved personally, she follows your old rule.”

“No witnesses, only widows,” I muttered, recalling my younger years. Gloria nodded.

“That’s fucking badass,” Brandon whispered under his breath.

“Do you have any guesses about how Night Eyes does what she does?” I asked Gloria.

“I have a one,” Gloria said, leaning forward and swirling the wine in her glass, “do you know about Sentients?”

“Corruption, Wrath and Sorrow?” Brandon said, “They’re real?”

“Myths and campfire stories,” I said, not quite believing my own disbelief, “astral beings can’t think.”

“That’s a common misconception,” Gloria grunted dismissively. “Sentients aren’t astral beings, Tera; they’re the spirits that Life Givers kept alive, but didn’t bind with. Corruption and Sorrow were ancient before my time, but I personally knew the man who would become Wrath.”

Brandon and I exchanged a look. Any nerves he’d recovered since seeing Terry’s severed head were dashed, and his expression was warped with alarm.

“His name was Halok, and he was a great warrior, and he died in battle as great warriors do,” Gloria said, lost in her memory. “His brother, Furok, the orc Life Giver, kept him alive, but he didn’t love Halok in the way required for binding, nor did Halok have the affinity required for tethering. He gave Halok a new body, but without binding, Halok’s spirit could leave it as easily as a man leaves his house. He wasn’t bound to earthly tethers, but he was still dependent on Furok’s power to keep his form. When Furok died, Halok rotted like a fruit upon a dead vine until he became the core-essence of himself: his lust for battle; Wrath. Now he slumbers in the astral plane, waiting for a warrior worthy of his gifts, and his curses.” Gloria frowned to herself, oblivious to the tension in the room, “I don’t believe in karma, but I think Sentients are death’s answer to a Life Giver’s defiance. Any life a god preserves, they must love enough to let die again, or it will suffer a fate far worse than the end.”

Gloria sat in solemn silence, lost in the memory of a man she once knew, unaware of the time-bomb she’d ignited. Brandon’s face was turning from red to purple, his eyes were bulging from his sockets, his jaw was twitching, and the tendons on his neck were standing at attention. I knew I should have been consoling, I knew I should have been loving and understanding, but I couldn’t help myself; I burst into laughter. Gloria awoke from her contemplative state and looked sharply up at me, insulted that I would dare laugh at her story. Her scorn was short-lived however, because Brandon let out a scream of dismay, threw his hands into the air, and blasted alight with blue power. Stalks and vines streamed from his hands and coiled around the pillars surrounding the room, roses and orchids carpeted the floor, mutated insects buzzed around the dimmed windows, and a single perfect humming bird glowed an ethereal blue, and then solidified into the air.

Never in the hundreds of years I’d known Gloria, had I ever seen the vampire shocked. She was cool and level in the best and worst of circumstances, but in that moment, she lost her shit. She clambered atop the back of her chair and perched on it like a bristling cat, staring with mouth agape and wide eyes at the garden that was once her room. A massive pumpkin had sprouted in the very center, corn stalks were starting to shoot up by the windows, and the bastard spawn of a squirrel and a racoon limped away and died in the corner. Finally, Brandon calmed down, and curled up in a ball next to his new pumpkin, hugging the massive fruit for comfort.

“What….” Gloria whispered, her eyes trembling, her mouth opening and closing. She swallowed her shock, and cautiously climbed down from the top of her chair. “Tera…” she said, her red, almond-shaped eyes now bulging ovals, “the…” she swallowed again, and then pointed a shaking hand at Brandon’s curled-up form, “…the Life Giver?”

“Yup!” I laughed, walked over to her, took a bottle from the vine-covered bar and refilled her glass. “And you just told him he has to fuck his sister. Cheers.”


Well, that does it then, I thought to Angela, sighing to myself at the bar of The Moaning Maiden, we’ve rejected every man in here. Well, you have, anyway.

I have a thing called ‘taste,’ Justina, Angela huffed in my mind. I require that our man at least have all his teeth.

We’re not going to find Prince Charming in a whore-house, I mentally grumbled as I paid our tab, and got off the stool, and some of those men were quite handsome.

You think every man’s handsome, Angela shot back as we stepped onto the street. You were ready to have a roll with the fat ogre before I stopped you.

It’s the disposition of my species, I replied, walking down the brothel district, jealously eyeing whores taking customers into private rooms. I’m attracted to every humanoid race, no matter their supposed defects. I honestly can’t distinguish between what you think is attractive and what you think is ugly, and I’m starting to think your ‘ugly’ column is a little too large.

Losing our virginity—

My virginity. I corrected, you’re just along for the ride.

Losing our virginity… Angela insisted indignantly, …is supposed to be a special, romantic occasion. Now, I was willing to compromise on the outfit, so you should be willing to compromise on the man!

I glanced down at the outfit we’d agreed on. I wanted a skimpy slave outfit, running with the theme of ‘captured succubus virgin willing to do anything to free herself,’ but Angela wanted an extravagant gown of pure white satin. Eventually, we compromised on ‘virgin schoolgirl lost and afraid in the big city.’ I had on a blouse that exposed most of my petite cleavage and my entire bronze midriff, and a plaid skirt that ended halfway down my ass, the cloth draping lasciviously from my thin tail. I wore long black gloves, as all succubi were required to do by law to avoid accidental enslavement.

I’m a whore, Angela, I said frankly to the prudish girl in my head, now professionally, but always spiritually. Succubi can fall in love, sure, but we distinguish between sex and romance. Also, you’re not going to find love in the brothel district.

I’m not looking for love! Angela insisted. I just want a smooth-skinned, lean-muscled, flowing-haired, sweet-smiled man! That shouldn’t be a tall order!

I think you might be a lesbian, I replied, rounding the corner, you basically described a woman.

I want a boy our own age! Angela growled. Is that too much to ask for?!

I stopped at a brothel called The Screeching Siren. Judging by the sounds blasting from the windows, the place was aptly named. It was absolutely packed, and the patrons were spilling out onto the streets.

Chances are pretty good we’ll find what you’re looking for in there, I said to Angela. Teenagers are drawn to crowds, and this place is filled to capacity.

Is someone fucking dying in there? Angela exclaimed. Holy shit, that woman’s a screamer!

Let’s find out, I said, pushing through the crowd, carefully avoiding skin contact. If all else fails, at least we get to see a good show.

The crowd only got thicker the further I pushed into the bar, and I had to jostle my way through every type of race and species. There were a few boys our age that I caught a glimpse of, and I gave them a promising smile before making my way further in. Through the maze of tightly-packed people, I found myself at the bar. The bar itself was much taller than normal, and I suspected that meant this place was frequented by orcs, ogres, or maybe even trolls. I had to climb the stool like a ladder to get to the seat, but once I perched my pretty little ass on it, I got a great view of the action at the center of the brothel. My jaw almost hit the floor when I saw what was happening.

Holy fuck! Angela exclaimed in my mind. Is that a fucking valkyrie?! I thought they were myths!

They live on the Gratoran Wall, I said, mentally showing Angela all the histories I’d read of them. On Mount Iona, Mount Ofan, and Mount Breyta; these peaks were part of the mountain chain that Gratora used as the basis for her wall. The valkyire traditions are older than every nation on Balamora. They’re supposed to be the greatest warriors in the world, bound to a strict, unbreakable code of ethics. How this one became a whore I’ll never know, but whoever owns her must make a fortune off her.

She was the most majestic creature I’d ever seen; tall, subtly-tanned, features of cold Norse beauty, and a body of athletic musculature framing feminine perfection. Her blonde hair was braided intricately about her crown, her wings stretched angelically from her back, and her asshole was stuffed with two thick cocks. She had her arms slung over the necks of an orc and a dark elf, supporting her in the air between them as she writhed and screamed, her legs spread to expose her defilement, and to allow for the dwarf to eat her leaking pussy. Even in her compromising state, she was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen.

“Hey,” a male voice said to my left, “how much for a good time, Sweetie?”

I looked down, and saw a man of maybe thirty years. His crown was thinning, but he was youthful enough (I hoped) for Angela.

You hoped wrong, Justina, Angela replied. What part of ‘flowing hair’ was hard for you to understand?

Holy fuck, Angela, if you don’t like it, you can get out of my head! I growled.

If I hadn’t gotten in your head in the first place, you’d still be at Mommy’s house, feeding yourself from her poop-chute, Angela retorted. You owe me, Justina; now tell baldy to scram!

“Sorry Babe,” I said to the man in my most sultry voice, “but I’m afraid I’m off work. Give me your hotel number though,” I smiled with a wink, “and I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Fucking whores,” the man grumbled, and walked away.

I fucking hate you, Angela, I seethed, clenching and unclenching my fists as my feminine hunger screamed its emptiness from my nethers. Can you not feel what I’m feeling right now?!

Oh, I feel it, Angela retorted, I just have this little thing called self-control.

“Did I just fucking see that?” a girlish voice laughed beside me. “A succubus rejecting a man because she’s ‘off work?!’ Now I’ve seen everything.”

I glanced over to the side, and saw a nymph-girl about my age. She had white hair that blended with her ivory horns, a caramel complexion, a developed, but slender body, and pine-green eyes surrounded by black sclera. She was bare-chested, and though her eye color was interesting, what really caught my attention was the bulge in her pants. Hermaphrodites weren’t as rare as valkyries, but they were quite the delicacy for a succubus.

Hey Angela, I mentally sniggered, long flowing hair, a nice smile, smooth skin, late-teens, and on top of it all, it’s a woman! Now we can both pretend you’re not a lesbian, and finally get this over with.

I… am intrigued, Angela replied cautiously. You may proceed to the flirtation phase.

Ha! You really are a dyke, aren’t you?

I don’t know what I am! Angela shot back. Not having any actual body parts makes it difficult to know for certain. All I know is that I enjoyed our physical time together, and this… woman, feels like a perfect stepping stone from lesbianism to hetero.

“Just because I’m a succubus doesn’t mean I don’t have standards,” I smiled to the girl, extending a gloved hand. “I’m Justina, by the way.”

“Night Eyes,” the girl said, grasping my hand firmly and watching me with an expectant gaze.

“What?” I asked with a confused smile, twirling a lock of black hair with a lascivious finger.

“You haven’t heard of me?” Night Eyes asked. “You must be new here.”

“Should I have heard of you?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, subtly leaning forward to allow my cleavage some exposure, “Are you a big deal??” I teased playfully.

“You really are new here,” the girl smiled, lighting a cigarette between her lips, “or you’re just really fucking stupid.”

Ah, nice fucking job, Justina, Angela scowled in my brain. What a master of seduction you are.

“The former, actually,” I said, not breaking my sultry smile for a moment, holding out two fingers to the nymph, “can I bum a smoke?”

Lung cancer is a real panty-dropper.

You don’t seem to mind her doing it, I replied as Night Eyes handed me a square.

Because it looks sexy and mysterious on her, Angela replied as I placed the square between my lush lips, and leaned forward for Night Eyes to light it, and you don’t have the cachet to pull it off.

Just watch, I smirked. I took a deep inhale of the cigarette smoke, and just as planned, I violently coughed it from my virgin lungs.

Real, fucking, smooth... Angela groaned.

We’re inexperienced virgins left on our own in the big city, I thought back to her as I hacked up a lung, that’s our allure, Angela; innocence.

“Was that your first cigarette?” Night Eyes laughed, her eyes traveling curiously down my body. “Did you just get here yesterday or something?”

“This morning, actually,” I said through fits of coughing. “I lived in Towerhead with my mother my whole life. You’ve found my darkest secret, Night Eyes; I’m an ignorant country girl.”

I punched out the cigarette, and turned toward Night Eyes with a calculated expression of embarrassment. I was met with a gaze of pure shock. Night Eye’s eyes were wide, her mouth was agape, and her lower lip was trembling ever-so-slightly.

“Justina?” she whispered, leaning to within a breath of my face, her eyes narrowing. “Justina Autumnsong?!

Justina?! Angela yelled, her alarmed voice mirroring my own panic. Do you know this woman? What does she want? Does she know about Brandon?! Red flag! Big, fucking, red flag!

“Holy shit,” Night Eyes gasped, seeing the panicked expression I was giving her, “your mother’s Tera Autumnsong, isn’t she?”

“I… uh…” I did the only thing I could think of. I ripped off my glove, and grabbed Night Eyes by the wrist, pouring all my seductive powers into the touch. Her green eyes remained green, her black sclera remained black, and she remained herself. She glanced down at my hand uselessly clasping her dainty wrist, and then smiled back up at me with a leer seeped in danger. I peed a little.

“I don’t blame you for trying that;” Night Eyes said softly, taking a deep inhale of her smoke, “a girl’s got to use what she can to defend herself, but if you weren’t my cousin, Justina, I’d be putting this square out on your eyeballs right now.”

“Cousin?” I whispered, peering fearfully though quivering eyes. “Willowbud? Willowbud Autumnsong?”

“It’s ‘Night Eyes’ in public,” Willowbud said, taking my hand off her wrist, and putting it on her thigh, “but since you’re family, you can call me ‘Willowbud’ when we’re alone.”

Whew, Angela breathed a metaphorical sigh of relief, she’s not an agent of evil trying to get to my brother, she’s just your cousin, who is apparently a violent psychopath, and also wants to fuck you. You know what, Justina? I think we can wrap this day up. Let’s go to the Oxehead’s Inn and drink until this memory is pickled from our brain. Justina?

I ignored Angela. The only family, hell, the only person I’d known my whole life was my mother, and here, sitting before me, was someone of my own blood. Now that I looked closer, I could see the resemblance between us. We had the same facial structure, the same full blushing cheeks, and a similar body-type and complexion, though I was a shade darker. Were it not for the difference in hair color, eye color, and horns (and species), we could have been mistaken for sisters. I always wanted a sister.

“Oh my god!” I yelled, my face widening in astonishment, my composure blown to the wind. “You’re… you’re not a mutant!”

Willowbud grinned broadly, and gestured to the bulge in her pants. “Is that what people say about me?” she clucked her tongue and shook her head. “That’s Mom for ya. Her daughter is born with an extra set, and she tells everyone she’s a mutant freak. From what I’ve heard, there’s no love lost between her and Tera.”

“No!” I exclaimed, unable to speak in any manner except excited yells. “My mom fucking hates your mom!”

“Well then, we’ll all get along just fine,” Willowbud chuckled, reached forward, grasped the leg of my stool, and dragging me next to her with surprising strength. “There,” Willowbud smiled, “you’re one foot closer to me; now you don’t have to yell for me to hear you.”

“Sorry,” I said, growing beat-red with embarrassment for the first time in my life, “I just got excited.”

“I have that effect on people,” Willowbud smiled crookedly. “How’s old Tera doing anyway? I never met the woman, but I’ve heard some crazy stories.”

“Oh, you know,” I said, completely flustered, my mind racing for conversation material, “she’s… Mom. She’s here meeting an old friend; do you know Gloria Titus?"

“Sure, I know Gloria,” Willowbud said, her smile curling wider, “we go way back.”

Careful, Justina, Angela breathed caution in my mind, she may be your cousin, but you don’t know her.

I know, I replied apologetically, that was stupid; she’s clearly dangerous. I lost my composure, and I’m sorry, Angela. That was very un-succubus of me.

You’re attracted to her, Angela sighed, I suppose incest really isn’t a problem for you, is it?

What about you? I asked Angela, running my fingers against Willowbud’s thigh. Do you still want her?

There’s a lot of things about this exchange that bother me, Angela said, seeming to mull it over, but you’re not even the same species, so the blood relation doesn’t irk me too much. She’s dangerous, you’re right, but I kind of like her brand of danger. She’s also hot as fuck.

Is that a green light? I asked hopefully.

You may recommence the flirtation phase, and make preparations for intercourse, Angela replied, receding into the back of my mind, but be careful, Justina.

“So…” I smiled to Willowbud as I walked my hand index finger-to-middle finger up her thigh, “what makes my beloved cousin such a big deal in Drastin?”

“Oh, a few things,” Willowbud smiled back, spreading her leg to allow my fingers to walk up her bulge. “I own this establishment.”

“An entrepreneur,” I smirked, walking my hand to her waistband, “fascinating.”

“I guess you could call me that,” Willowbud chuckled, taking me by the other hand and gracefully guiding me to step off my stool, and onto hers.

“A gangster then,” I said sultrily, stretching one leg over her lap, and then straddling her about the waist, making sure she saw I wasn’t wearing anything beneath my skirt, “a dangerous woman.”

“A very dangerous woman,” Willowbud smiled, trailing her hands up my thighs, caressing me softly as my fingers pushed beneath her waistband, “like Gloria Titus.”

“Oh, cousin,” I smirked into her eyes as my fingers found what they were searching for, “that almost sounded like a threat. I take it there’s no love lost between you?”

“We have our differences,” Willowbud said, her hands sliding past my thighs, and gripping me tightly below my skirt, “she tried to kill me today.”

Oh, shit, Angela whispered fearfully.

“That wasn’t very nice of her,” I giggled, marveling at the feeling of a cock in my hands for the first time, ignoring Angela’s fear. “I hope I’m not guilty by association.”

“You’re anything but guilty,” Willowbud laughed, her hands squeezing me just right, causing my tail to curl behind me in excitement. “You’re as innocent as they come, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” I whispered, my lips inches from hers, my breath growing sharp as she grew hard, “And here I thought I was being quite the seductress.”

“No,” Willowbud smiled, spreading my squeezed glutes and trailing a teasing finger from each hand around the nerve-covered circle of my anal rim, “you’re timid for a girl of your species. You have the spirit, but not the experience.”

“Are you going to give me the experience?” I breathed on her lips, feeling the need roaring between my legs, feeling her hard heat throbbing between my hands.

“One that you’ll never forget,” Willowbud grinned. Her fingers pushed into my ass, curled at the knuckles and pulled apart, stretching me open, sending a blast of searing pleasure deep into my colon. My heart jolted in exhilaration, my body melted into hers, and my lips opened around her awaiting mouth. Her kiss was domineering, lustfully possessive, and I drank it in as my hips gyrated pathetically around her piercing digits. She pushed in deeper, forcing my body to shift upward, forcing a muffled scream from my mouth as she spread my virgin asshole gaping. My lecherous cry traveled between her lips as I hastily pulled her pants past her thighs, springing her shaft from her waistband. It nestled between the dripping petals of my lust, throbbing teasingly against them, so close to pushing inside me, so close to giving me what I needed. My cry turned to a whorish whine in her mouth as I pleaded desperately for her to give it to me, to sate the ravenous emptiness that tortured my depths. She pulled my body upward with her penetrating fingers, causing my shoulders to pinch back as a shiver raced between them. My pussy glided along her shaft, the swollen folds squishing their delicate flesh about her girth and leaking a trail down her length. My slit finally opened against her tip, and she held me there, letting my weight cause her fingers to push deeper into my anus, delaying my womanhood for an agonizing moment, making me scream my desperation into her mouth. She smiled against my lips, pleased with my begging, and she let me drop. Our kiss broke, my chest lurched forward, my eyes widened, and a song of sweet satisfaction poured from me as my virginity was finally taken. It was painful, and I felt the blood, but my lewd body adapted easily, exalting as it fulfilled its lecherous purpose. Somewhere in my mind, I heard Angela’s voice moaning.


I doubted that I would’ve enjoyed the things Willowbud was doing to me if I were in my own body. Four of her fingers were pushed knuckle-deep in my ass and pulling apart, stretching me open, letting the stiff air of the brothel tickle my exposed insides. I doubted that I would’ve enjoyed fucking in public if I were in my own brain, but Justina’s mind didn’t care about such things. I doubted I would’ve enjoyed the violent way in which my virginity was taken, but Justina’s body absolutely reveled in it. I doubted I would have enjoyed any of this in my own body and mind, but I wasn’t in my own body and mind. I was in the hormone-soaked mind of a nineteen year-old succubus, and the body it controlled was built for the perverse.

So, I said in astonished pleasure, feeling everything Justina felt, this is what it feels like.

God, it feels so good! Justina giggled mentally as she moaned physically. Are you OK in there?

Oh, I’m fine, I said, my mental voice wavering as Willowbud began to thrust into us, you just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll sit up here and enjoy it.

You don’t want a turn in control? Justina asked, shifting her hips with an instinctual grace that would never have come naturally to me.

You’re a natural at this, I said, savoring the thick meat separating our insides, marveling at the way Justina clenched perfectly around the nymph, give me some time to learn, and I’ll tell you when I’m ready for my turn.

OK, Angela, Justina replied, her mind drifting from me, to the task at hand.

Willowbud’s sodomizing fingers worked deeper into our anus as our body swayed to Justina’s perverse rhythm. Willowbud rotated her wrists and pressed her fingertips against the channel dividing our holes, squishing the fleshy membrane against her driving cock. Justina’s scream echoed my own pleasure, and our body dove into a lascivious arc of concavity; our petite breasts bursting from our blouse and squishing against Willowbud’s bare chest, our torsos flexing in waves against hers. Our head dropped onto Willowbud’s shoulder, and Justina panted our pathetic pleasure into her cousin’s ear.

“Do you like my fingers in your ass, Cousin?” Willowbud whispered, her breaths short and fast with the exertion of her lust.

“Yes!” Justina panted as we writhed. “Do you like my tail, Cousin?

Justina curled her tail behind us, took aim, and drove. She corkscrewed it between her cousin’s clenched glutes, pushed it past the resistance of her rim, and snaked it through the taut reaches of Willowbud’s gripping anus. Willowbud reeled her head back, and surged into us with a fury of thrusts that sent Justina screaming, and me drowning in her endorphins.

“Oh, you little bitch!” Willowbud laughed, curling her fingers harder in retaliation, causing Justina to growl with pleasure.

“Takes one, to know one,” Justina growled, pressing our body deeper to Willowbud’s and twisting our tail deeper.

“You’ve got some balls, girl,” Willowbud grinned, adding a finger from each hand, stretching our anus into a ruined gape.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Justina smirked an open-mouthed, panting smile.

Don’t pick the low-hanging fruit, Justina.

You mean fruits. Justina mentally chuckled.

The barstool beneath us was shaking dangerously, tipping from foot to foot with the momentum of Willowbud’s drives. The seat of the stool was soaked with our secretion, and I could feel the slickness causing us to slide dangerously close to the edge. Willowbud sensed the impending disaster before Justina seemed to, and picked us up by the asshole once again. Justina shrieked in abject pleasure, our eyes watering with her delight, our legs locking around Willowbud’s driving hips. She spun us around, laid us on our back atop the bar so that our ass hung off the edge, and she pounded until our pelvis was shaking with the brutal drives of the hermaphroditic nymph. Justina managed to keep our tail inside Willowbud’s ass, and she twisted it encouragingly, prompting her cousin to jackhammer her way into us, forcing a convulsion of violent ecstasy to spasm up our abdomen.

Holy shit, that got her going! I screamed, basking in Justina’s visceral pleasure. Do it again!

Justina complied, and the results were… unexpected. Willowbud gritted her teeth, ripped her hands out of our ass, grabbed us by the hips, and spun us around. Our tail tore free from its penetrating position, our legs flailed outwardly like a ragdoll’s, and our breasts squished against the bar’s surface as our chin barely stopped from colliding into it. We were left bent over the bar, our back curved in a compromising position, our ass perched onto the barstool, and our legs dangling uselessly on either side. Willowbud pulled her cock out of our pussy, positioned the tip against our gaping anus, and forced her entire length inside of us. Our back wrenched upward, our neck striated with tension, and Justina’s scream of abject pain and pleasure tore from our lips. It was silenced immediately by a pair of hands, whose fingers pushed into our mouth, and made us taste the tang of our own ass. Justina sucked whorishly, reveling in the degradation, her lust naturally adapting to whatever her partner desired.

“You have such an anal fixation, Cousin,” Willowbud growled, ramming into our gaping asshole, sending bouts of ferocious felicity deep into our bowels. “If you wanted it in the ass so bad, you could’ve just asked.”

Our pussy leaked onto the barstool, our thighs clenched around its legs, our back arched, and our mouth sobbed Justina’s subservient pleasure. I was shocked at how good it felt to have something pierce us so deeply in the wrong hole, but I couldn’t share in Justina’s depraved lust; not after what I just saw. I forced myself to withdraw from Justina’s mind, reluctantly abandoning the pleasure that ran up her spine, into her brain, and then into my mind. I focused on the flashing image I saw of Willowbud right before she spun us around. Justina’s steel-trap of a memory served me well, and I rewound the proverbial tape until I saw… her. A woman of blackness, a shadow in all things except the white irises and ivory teeth grinning maliciously at me.

Justina! I yelled, racing back to the forefront of her mind, my soul immediately assaulted with the euphoria of my friend’s anal assault, Justina—oh shit, that feels good—Justina, what the fuck is this?!

Justina didn’t answer. Her mind was flooded with dopamine and endorphins, a swamp of pleasure that drowned lucid thought. I found a stream of consciousness thrumming gently in her frontal lobe, and I raced to it.

Justina! I yelled, wavering in her euphoria, fighting the temptation to succumb to it. Justina, what the fuck is—

Fuck-my-ass-fuck-my-ass-fuck-my-ass-fuck-my-ass… was all that thought responded with.

Willowbud took hold of Justina’s horns and pulled back, forcing Justina’s perspective upside-down, forcing her body to curve with jutting breasts, a distended abdomen, and an arching back. Justina looked at her cousin with eyes glazed-over in pleasure, and I looked at the thing inside the nymph. Justina couldn’t see it, and Willowbud couldn’t see me, but I knew by the way it’s white irises narrowed, that the thing could see me.

What are you? the soft drawling voice of a woman echoed faintly in my mind.

Justina?! I yelled to my screaming host. Justina, did you hear that?


Your friend is losing herself, the voice whispered, growing more distinct now, her seduction is backfiring. It was foolish of her to lie with Willowbud after she attempted an enslavement, but I suppose a virgin girl is prone to foolish mistakes. I’m not interested in this whore, though; what are you, girl?

I ignored the voice, and raced through Justina’s mind, trying to find a rational thought I could cling to, trying to find a way to save her. Her consciousness was a minefield of lust, and it took all my will not to join in it. Justina was sobbing with pleasure, her eyes running with euphoria as her mouth wailed. She moved with her natural lechery; grinding her ass into Willowbud, arching her back and clenching her asshole, reveling in the pain and pleasure she garnered from her cousin forcing through her resistances. It was almost too much for me to take, but I gritted my mental teeth, and powered through until I found her. Justina’s rational mind was barely functioning, but it was still there, deep in the bog of her dopamine-soaked mania.

Justina?! I yelled in panic, my ethereal voice wavering in her pleasure.

It’s too good, Angela, Justina’s last rational thought whispered, her voice dripping with depravity, it’s just too good!

Your being enslaved! Your seduction is backfiring, like what happened to your mom!

I know. I knew it might happen before we started, but I was too desperate, Angela; I’m sorry.

We need to fight it! I said, trying to bring Justina back to reality, We can do it together!

No… Justina said, her voice growing faint, …we can’t… It’s inevitable now... How did she resist me? She shouldn’t have been able to….

Justina? I yelled. No response. JUSTINA?!

That… memory you have… Justina replied, her words coming without structure, show it to me… the black woman….

I looked through her eyes, seeing the black figure that teemed from Willowbud’s thrusting body, showing Justina what I could see, but she could not.

Huh, Justina said, her fading voice almost laughing, that… explains…. a lot. Angela…, we’re… in… the… presence… of… a… bedtime… story… Corruption…

Justina’s voice faded from her mind, dwindling until it was nothing at all. The tones of her lust rang out through her brain; moans and cries, screams and growls, all exclamations of a euphoria too great for her mind to control. She was gone, a slave to her cousin, a slave to a woman who possessed an evil of mythology. I hovered from my friend’s consciousness, not daring the step into her mind lest I join her in slavery, but not daring to leave. Willowbud would undoubtedly question Justina about Tera’s visit to Gloria, and I couldn’t have my enslaved friend enthusiastically betraying my brother. I would wait, and when the time came, I would take control of Justina, and book it to the Oxehead’s Inn.

What are you? Corruption asked again. I looked through Justina’s eyes, and saw the Sentient staring back at me, a perplexed look on her ethereal face. It was an expression of near-recognition, of a memory that she knew, but couldn’t quite grasp. Her wispy form moved limb-for-limb with her host; grabbing as Willowbud grabbed, thrusting as Willowbud thrusted, but her expression did not bear the sexual zeal of her nymph counterpart. Willowbud released one of Justina’s horns, reeled back her hand, and smacked the succubus hard on the ass. Justina’s body heaved in pleasure, her possessed voice begged sobbingly for more, and Willowbud acquiesced. Corruption’s hand did not move with her host’s. It reached forward tentatively, nervously, as though I were a flame that she’d dropped her wedding ring into. I bared my ethereal teeth and snarled, and she cringed backward, her black eyes widening in fear, her white irises shrinking. She collected herself, and then reached forward again. I gave her another snarl, and she started backward, but she recovered faster than before. She furrowed her brow, set her heart-shaped jaw, and extended for me. Her fingers passed through Justina’s flailing skin, passed through her bones, and touched my hand. It was a warm touch, a soothing touch, and it beckoned me forward out of Justina’s mind and body.

Come with me, Corruption said.

No, I replied, resisting the comfort her touch promised.

I won’t harm you, child. Corruption said, grasping my ethereal hand in hers. Just come with me.

FUCK OFF! I yelled, ripping my hand away and receding back to Justina. Corruption looked genuinely dejected. She recoiled as if struck, and then reached out again. I swatted her hand away, and grinned at her crestfallen expression.

Please! Corruption cried, her voice baring a hint of desperation, I must know!

Na-ah, sister, I said, stubbornly situating myself inside my moaning friend, you just stay in your body, and I’ll stay in mine.

Corruption took a tentative step out of Willowbud’s body. Her eyes were fixed on me as though my existence was a magnet to her soul. She took another step forward, and for a moment, she was completely out of the nymph. Willowbud slowed her thrusts, her eyes began to lighten, her grimace began to soften. Corruption abruptly stopped, a look of sheer terror on her face. She jumped back into Willowbud, darkening the nymph’s eyes, and reforming the power-hungry expression that had faded before. The image of the astral being dwindled, and then she was gone.


I have to fuck my sister, to save her, the perverse reality echoed in my mind as I buried myself in the foliage I’d created. I felt familiar hands on my shoulders, and a pair of beautiful violet eyes filled my vision.

“Brandon?” Tera asked as she righted me into a seated position with my back resting on the enormous pumpkin I’d just made. “Are you alright?”

“I am not,” I said grumpily. “I am actually very far from alright. How are you?”

“I’m feeling a little vindicated, to be honest,” Tera smirked, sitting next to me and resting her head on my shoulder, “all that grief I got from you about incest, and now.…”

“Don’t,” I groaned, “just… don’t.”

Gloria stepped daintily through the garden that was once her room, avoiding the patches of soil that now covered her carpet and crinkling her nose at the dead raccoon-squirrel I had accidentally created. She sat cross-legged across from me in a bed of orchids, leveled her red eyes on me, and bowed her head in respect.

“Your Holiness,” she uttered with some reverence, “I’m honored to have you in my home.”

“Oh, now it’s ‘Your Holiness,’ huh?” I scoffed, feeling very bitter about my situation. “Just a few minutes ago I was a hillbilly from a shithole.”

“You still are,” Gloria said, her blood-red lips quirking in a slight smirk, “you’re just a holy hillbilly from a shithole.”

“Gloria’s a Creationist,” Tera said from my shoulder, “and she’s one of the only people alive to have actually known past Creators. She will be a valuable ally to you.”

“I knew Droktin, the last Earth Former, Furok, the last Life Giver, and Arbitrus Gen, the last Heat Bringer,” Gloria said, “I knew Furok especially well, as his brother and I were lovers once.”

“You were lovers with Wrath?” Tera asked.

“Yes,” Gloria said, her face falling into an expression of melancholy, “Halok was a great man in his time. Watching him degrade after Furok passed was… difficult to say the least. It is not a fate I’d wish on my worst enemy, which is why it is imperative that you bind with your sister.”

“Can’t we just…” I said, searching vainly for a way out of doing what Gloria said I had to do, “…is there any other way I can make sure Angela doesn’t become Sentient?”

“Does your sister by chance have an all-consuming obsession with something? Because there is a method called tethering, but it requires the soul to identify with a very specific idea.”

“No,” I grumbled, “Angela’s only hobby is making fun of me while I jerk it. Did Furok… I don’t know… trying anything else?”

“Furok tried everything,” Gloria said, shaking her head, “he worked for the last fifty years of his life to find a way to make Halok mortal, but he couldn’t. He even tried lying with him, and that didn’t work. The sex isn’t enough to seal the bind; there has to be love—romantic love—for a bind to seal.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” I mumbled, “Angela’s doomed.”

“Are you sure?” Gloria said, “Because—"

“Not! Gonna! Happen!” I yelled, and then slouched against the pumpkin. Tera pet my head consolingly as Gloria studied me, her lips pursed and her finger drumming on her knee.

“I have a method, Your Holiness,” Gloria finally said, “of making someone receptive to an idea they otherwise might find… distasteful.”

“I don’t need any more crazy bitches trying to fuck with my head, thank you very much,” I replied curtly.

“Any more?” Gloria smiled. “Did Tera try to enslave you?”

“I did,” Tera murmured, running her hand down the back of my head and massaging my neck, “it obviously didn’t work.”

“It didn’t work on me, either,” Gloria chuckled. “For a famous seductress, you certainly have some prominent failures. My method, however, has never failed.”

“And what method is that, Gloria?” Tera asked lazily, her body splayed in her naturally seductive state, her thick bronze thighs sneaking from beneath the hem of her cloak.

“Come here,” Gloria smiled, beckoning the succubus with a suggestive finger, “and I’ll show you.”

“Hey!” I yelled. “Didn’t I just say I’m not letting you mess with my head?”

“Who said anything about you?” Gloria smiled innocently. “It’s Tera I asked for.”

Tera shifted fluidly beside me, drawing herself to her hands and knees and crawling lasciviously to the awaiting vampire. Gloria spread her legs, her skirt sliding past her thighs, showing me that she wasn’t wearing underwear, and that she was bald below the eyebrows. I averted my gaze, but not in time to avoid her red glare twinkling with a knowing smile. Tera made a move to straddle the vampire, but Gloria stopped her with an extended hand. She placed her palm on Tera’s collar, and pulled the cloak to the side, shifting its neckline until it exposed Tera’s neck, shoulder, and upper back.

“Feeling thirsty, Gloria?” Tera smiled, turning so that she faced me, and seating herself in the vampire’s lap. “I’ve heard my kind is considered quite the delicacy amongst vampires.”

“I guess you could say that,” Gloria hummed softly, pulling Tera’s wavy black hair to the side, leaving her naked and vulnerable along the elegant bow of her tan neck. “We consider your kind to be more of a narcotic than anything. Every vampire orgy has at least one sacrificial succubus to keep guests in the mood.”

Gloria eyed the veins in Tera’s throat, tracing a covetous finger down their blue lengths. She tilted Tera’s head to the side, planted her full red lips on her neck, and bit. Tera whimpered, her eyes closed blissfully, her chest swelled forward, and her head fell backward. She bit her lower lip in concentrative pleasure, and her body melted to Gloria’s in languorous submission. Gloria watched me as she drank of the succubus, and I watched as her red irises thinned to the dilation of her black pupils. She pulled from Tera with a gasp, her lips trembling and her breaths heaving as though a shot of adrenaline had just rushed into her brain. Tera collapsed with relaxed grace as Gloria fell into a twisting writhe. She gasped and moaned as she shed her clothes like a snake sheds its skin; squirming and wriggling out of her skirt, grinding her thighs together, clawing at the laces of her corset until it unwound and the milky domes of her breasts jiggled free. Tera disrobed with practiced fluidity; stretching and arching her way to nakedness. Gloria kicked off her shoes and then spun violently to her hands and knees. Her dilated pupils shown from her crimson glare, and reflected my face in their ravenous depths. She drew her body into a crawl like a feline, stalking toward me with her hips rocking behind her, her predatory eyes gleaming, her fangs protruding from her blood-red lips.

“Um, Gloria?” I said nervously. “Didn’t you say you were going to leave me out of this?”

“I lied,” Gloria grinned.

“Hey!” I yelled, the déjà vu of my situation not at all lost on me. “Get back! Your god commands you to stop!”

“Gloria just had a drink of me, Brandon,” Tera smiled as she crawled behind the vampire, “and she needs a way to relieve the dual-injection of hormones that just shot into her brain. I wouldn’t try to fight her; she likes it when her prey struggles.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Your Holiness,” Gloria said as she climbed up my struggling body, subduing my defenses with impossible strength, “but the world can’t afford another Sentient.”

I am a god of infinite power, I thought grimly as she took my head in her hands, and I can’t even avoid getting molested by old women.

I felt Gloria’s breath hot and sweet on my neck. I felt her voluptuous body melding its supple warmth along the curves of my own. I felt her blood-red lips press to the pulsing artery of my throat, and I felt her fangs sink into me. A concoction of Tera’s blood and vampiric venom seeped into my neck, and burned its intoxicating poison into my heart. My body relaxed into gelatinous butter, my cock engorged like a water balloon, and my mind opened. Gloria took an indulgent moment to taste my blood, and then pulled from my neck with a parting kiss, her tongue lapping up the droplets she missed. She gently guided our faces together until they touched at the forehead, and locked her gaze with mine. Her eyes were a sea of crimson, depthless and limitless in their expanse. The truth of the world seemed to emanate from their pupils, and the promise of desires fulfilled burned from their fiery rings.

“Your Holiness,” Gloria’s voice sung gently as she ran soothing fingers through my hair, “we’re going to do a little psychotherapy today. I’m sorry, but I had to give you some injections to make you more… receptive to my methods.”

“Oh, I’m receptive,” I grinned stupidly, feeling like the king of the fucking world. “I am receptive as fuck!

“That’s good to hear,” Gloria smiled broadly, displaying her glistening fangs between her crimson lips, “because we need to plant some ideas into that divine brain of yours, and they won’t bear fruit if the field is sour.”

“Metaphors!” I exclaimed delightedly, “and topical metaphors! You are an absolute treat, Gloria.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Gloria chuckled, and then directed my attention to the succubus pulling down my pants. “This is your sister.”

“No,” I giggled, poking the silly vampire on the nose, “that is Tera. She is not my sister; she is a disgusting whore.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say about your sister,” Gloria frowned.

“But…” I said, cocking my head in confusion, “I just said she’s not my sister.”

“Are you sexually attracted to her?” Gloria asked, gesturing to Tera, who was resting her chin on my thigh and staring covetously at the cock between my legs.

“Oh, very much so!” I said, confirming the sentiment with a gesture to my obvious arousal, “and I am also sexually attracted to you! Are you going to have sex with me?”

“Would you like me to?” Gloria smirked crookedly, running her tongue through the moist flesh of her lips. “Well, I am also your sister, Your Holiness; do you want your sister to have sex with you?”

“But…” I trailed off, my brow furrowing in confusion, “…you’re not my sister… are you?”

“Of course I am,” Gloria smiled, her crimson eyes deepening the longer I stared into them. “How can you not know that?”

“I…” I started, losing myself in the depths of her irises, “…I don’t remember you.”

“Look deeper,” Gloria whispered, “see for yourself.”

Gloria’s irises gleamed their crimson passion, and her lips hovered longingly, just breaths away from my own. The depths of her eyes spoke with unequivocal honesty, and their lenses reflected images that melded seamlessly to my memory. She was my sister, wasn’t she? Tera and Gloria were my big sisters, and Angela was my twin. Gloria, Tera and I shared our bodies, but Angela couldn’t, because Angela was dead. I had made a promise to Angela; I had promised to make her a new body so that she could share it with me. I was so close to doing it, but I needed more training. I needed my big sisters to help me. I ran my hand up the silky expanse of Gloria’s belly, marveling at the texture of her flesh as it gave way to my calloused palm. I cupped a supple breast and pinched the nipple, twisting it like I knew she liked, somehow. Her red eyes drooped, their lids dark with smoky liner, accentuating the blaze of her irises. Our lips connected beneath our closing gaze, and our tongues entwined as our bodies pressed together. Her hand moved between us, and stroked me softly as I rotated her erect pink node in my fingers, and ran my other hand along the graceful curve of her back. Her delectable kiss melted into my mouth as her fingers drew me ever outward, ever harder. She parted from our kiss with a breathy exit, and smiled into my eyes.

“You said Tera was a disgusting whore,” Gloria whispered, her tongue flicking across my lips. “Now I’m going to show you how disgusting your oldest sister can be.”

Gloria lowered her body, trailing her tongue along my flesh as she descended. It lathered my neck, circled my nipple, drew down my abdomen, slithered across my pelvis, skipped my cock, sheened my balls, and… Let me preface this by saying that I am one-hundred-percent heterosexual. I am a manly-man, who likes manly things. I like woodcarving, fishing, hunting, and apparently, a busty vampire sticking her tongue up my ass. Gloria’s red eyes gleamed from beneath my pelvis as her lips wrapped around my rim, and her warm, wet tongue pushed inside, opening my coiled sphincter, lathering it with her spit as she slid deeper. My balls quaked from their draped position on her nose, a groan of satisfaction leaked past my lips, and my cock curved backward with aching engorgement.

“Your big sister is absolutely repulsive,” Tera giggled as Gloria planted her hands on my glutes and spread me open. “I wonder if Angela will do that for you?”

“I hope so,” I muttered, watching Tera’s snake-like tongue slither from her mouth. “I want all my sisters to do that to me.”

“Well then,” Tera smirked, her long tongue curling teasingly, “don’t let me disappoint you, little brother.

Tera’s playful violet eyes moved next to her older sister’s red ones. They both peered up at me with a teasing glint as Tera placed her thumbs on either side of my rectum, spread me open, and penetrated me with her reptilian tongue, entwining it with her sister’s inside me. I gritted my teeth as I felt their sloppy wet invasion deepen, coursing their entangled members through my filth, pressing teasingly against my prostate. Their lips met on opposite sides of my rim and sucked, drawing me outward as they pushed inward. My heels dug into the soil that covered the carpet, and I began thrusting my hips, losing my ability to stay still in the heat of the violating sensation. Tera kept her hands on my ass while Gloria reached upward and stroked my raging hardness, settling me back down. Their tongues curled together inside me, curving upward and running along my ceiling, milking my internal organ, causing my loins to boil in eminent release. I know they felt it, I could tell by the teasing light in their eyes, but they didn’t stop; oh god, they didn’t stop! I let out a gasp, thrusted my hips upward, and came in an explosion. Tera, not one to waste a free meal, withdrew from my ass in a slithering pull, wrapped her tongue thrice about my spewing member, and stroked me as I poured my seed into her open mouth. Gloria hummed her approval of my climax, and rotated her sucking lips around my rim as she continued to press her tongue against my emptying prostate. She didn’t stop her anal kiss until the last drop was spilled from my tip, and Tera had licked it clean from my twitching cock. The succubus held my still-hard rod in her hand, and smiled down at Gloria as she pulled out of me; her red eyes gleaming as she licked her lips, savoring the taste of my sinful hole.

“I think he’s got more in there, what do you think, big sister?” Tera sniggered, smiling at a joke I apparently wasn’t in on.

“Oh, he’s got plenty more,” Gloria grinned, taking hold of my cock and running her fingers covetously down it. “After what I put in his blood, this thing will be standing tall for a long time.”

“What a dirty anal slut you are, little brother,” Tera smiled. “I wonder if Angela shares the same proclivity.”

“I certainly do,” Gloria whispered with a seductive fry as she crawled up my body, her pale ass perched behind her shifting hips, her massive breasts jiggling from her chest, “do you want to fuck your big sis in the asshole, Your Holiness?”

That must have been a rhetorical question, because before I could answer, Gloria drew her magnificent pale body upright, squatted over me, and sat with only my cum and Tera’s spit as lubricant. Her passionate eyes drooped in a near-mournful expression, her mouth moaned a sobbing tone, her thighs flexed to her bending knees, and her pink petals leaked her lust down her taint, and into her stretching pink rim. Her aperture expanded around me, her anus gripped me in its vile heat, and her muscles clenched, sucking me into her as she descended until her ass pressed against my pelvis, and we moaned in mutual satisfaction. Gloria took a lip-biting moment to savor her anal penetration, closing her eyes, inhaling deeply, and letting out a sigh. When her eyes opened, they no longer bore the vulnerable, mournful look she’d worn before, but were ravenous and dangerous. Her blood-red lips opened to reveal her grinning fangs, and she reached forward, took me by the shoulders, and pressed my face into her tits.

“I don’t know how you and Tera fuck, little brother,” Gloria growled as she grinded her ass onto my pelvis, pressing down so hard it almost hurt, “but I require a little violence with my love; do you think you can give that to me?”

I didn’t, until Gloria dug two sets of fingernails into my back and ripped across my shoulders. Then, I was more than willing to give her what she wanted. The anger surged into me with the pain, and I took two fistfuls of black hair, and ripped backward. Gloria’s chin jutted into the air, and she laughed with animalistic delight as she locked her legs around my waist, squeezed the breath out of me with her thighs, and twisted an encouraging nail between my shoulders. I pulled her hair further back, feeling her rectum clenching around me the harder I yanked, hearing her combative laugh grow shrill with her pain. Her breasts were nearly suffocating me between their succulent domes, but I soldiered on, and took a pert nipple into my mouth.

“Bite it!” Gloria gasped, her body a writhing mess of powerful muscle and supple flesh. I acquiesced, and bit down with less gentleness than I normally would. I teethed it and pulled it backward, stretching her pale dome to a conical point, feeling her pussy gushing against my pelvis and her asshole coil like a fist around my driving cock. I didn’t thrust in and out of Gloria, so much as I heaved our bodies upward. Her grinding was so impassioned, so combative, that it barely let an inch of me out of her at a time. It was as though I was trapped within her, and every move I made to pull out was countered with a growling drive of her hips, squishing her ass into my pelvis until it bulged vulgarly from her backside. My cock buried into her sinful channel, impaled through her delicate flesh, and she consumed me with ravenous greed; drawing me into her, welcoming me deeper, challenging me to pull out and rail into her. We wrestled with passionate hedonism, twisting together in a perverse dance, curving and arching as one, but never pulling apart. Our skin grew hot and slick, our breaths grew short and shallow, we didn’t moan and cry, but snarled and growled, reveling in the contest, savoring the struggle as our muscles tensed against each other. I looked up from the nipple I was torturing, and saw Gloria’s stretched neck striating with tension as I pulled her hair harder. Her red lips were peeled back in a grimace, and her mouth was spouting her guttural approval. I knew damn-well that the moment I let her hair go, Gloria was going to bite me; I could see it glinting from her hungry eyes. I also knew that my grip strength wasn’t going to last much longer. I made my move. I let her go, feeling strands of hair come off in my hands. Her head snapped forward, her mouth grinning as it passed my cheek and closed lustily on my throat, her fangs sinking their painless bite into my neck and drinking of me as she seeped her intoxicating venom. I gasped, letting her nipple fall from my mouth, and I used the last of my will to reached behind her, and spread her ass wide for the succubus who had snuck around her back.

Gloria’s head reeled back, her mouth gaped in a crimson oval, and she screamed. Tera’s entire hand slid alongside my cock, and gripped me from inside of the vampire’s constricting sheath.

“You know I don’t like it when you pick on our little brother,” Tera whispered into Gloria’s ear, her face smirking in sexual malice as her sister screamed in sexual agony. “You need to learn how to play nice.”

Tera’s reptilian tongue licked the side of Gloria’s screaming face as her violet eyes watched me with amusement. She began to stroke me from the inside, grinding her knuckles along the tender sleeve of Gloria’s anus, and the vampire lost the last of her composure. Her back wrenched in an arch, her tits jiggled forward, her head reeled back, and she came violently. The subtle musculature of her abdomen convulsed beneath her pale canvas, and her insides clenched around me and Tera in a vulgar, heated embrace. She fell on her back, writhing in her visceral ecstasy, and Tera giggled, pulled her hand and my cock out, and made Gloria taste her own ass.

“I know you’re going to make me pay for this later,” Tera laughed sweetly as Gloria’s mouth closed around her fingers, “your proclivity for whips and chains is infamous. I just want you to know that I’m looking forward to your vengeance, but I’m going to enjoy your submission now.”

Gloria recovered from her climax, and looked on the verge of enacting her vengeance right then and there. Two lengths of thick vines laced up her arms, wrapping about her wrists, elbows and shoulders, and pinning her to the ground. Another length of vine wrapped loosely around her neck, forcing her chin upward. Gloria struggled and thrashed for a moment, her eyes blazing with fury, and then she stopped when she felt the smooth vines that were snaking up her legs, and an excited grin formed across her face.

“Oh, Brandon,” Tera exclaimed, testing the binds that held her sister, not looking back to see what was approaching her, “this opens up all kinds of possibilities!”

“I wonder how smooth he can make them,” Gloria smiled, watching as two young green vines snaked through her dripping pussy, and slithered to Tera’s unassuming backside, “or if they can be lubricated?”

“That is an interesting idea,” Tera chuckled, pulling up her leg to straddle Gloria’s mouth, “we’ll do a brainstorming session after I’m done sitting on your faaaaAAAAAA!”

They were lubricated with sap, but I doubted that lessened the shock. They came together, wrapping in a tight coil, and then they corkscrewed through the purple outline of Tera’s puckered rim. Two thick barky vines wrapped around Tera’s wrists, pulling her arms back, as two more wrapped around her ankles to spread her legs. Her tan back flexed in concavity as she strained against her new binds, and Gloria laughed as the succubus screamed in abject delight. The smooth wet vines worked in tandem; stretching Tera open, exposing her dark insides, squirming their way into her colon and thrusting in and out. Clear secretion leaked from Tera’s desecrated bowels, her hips squirmed in a rapturous gyration, her head fell uselessly behind her, her onyx hair draping to her supple backside, and she stared at me with glazed-over eyes as her mouth vocalized possessed euphoria. I shared a smirk with Gloria, and then gently guided Tera forward to sit on her sister’s face. Gloria opened her mouth and sucked sensually upon Tera’s leaking petals as her tongue slid between them. Her red eyes drooped in satisfaction, and she thrust her hips upward below me, shimmying them in a needful dance. I took a grip of pale thighs, spread them, and pushed my filthy cock into her pristine pink slit, savoring the way her membranous lips enveloped into her wet heat. She wrapped her legs around my waist again, but this time, she didn’t try to squeeze the life out of me, but gently beckoned me to thrust inside. I enjoyed our earlier bout of lustful wrestling, but it was nice to have some room to maneuver, and I used that room to make Gloria pay for every bite and scratch on my body.

My pelvis slammed into the pale splay of Gloria’s crotch, my cock pushed through her glistening pink petals, and her thighs rippled with the impacts, her mouth moaning its muffled tone into her sister’s pussy. Tera’s tan complexion wriggled across Gloria’s milky surface; her legs quivering and flexing about her bound ankles, her shoulders pinching together, protruding their blades from her flexing back while she danced perversely to the twisting vines that corkscrewed in and out, gaping her smooth purple innards, her tail coiling behind her in the animalistic expression of her euphoria. Gloria’s stifled moans became cries in her mouth as Tera watched me through glistening eyes, her mauve lips agape and singing her climax, her cheeks flushed with the exertion of her lust. I stared from violet eyes to red, and watched the euphoric change happen behind both as the three of us ascended, tones of our catharsis echoing through the room, a harmony of siblings in the grip of lust, long since fallen to the sweetest temptation of forbidden flesh. Tera sang her sweet release and Gloria muffled hers, and I poured what was left of my seed into the vampire’s gripping channel, then fell back into the foliage, and released my siblings. A flock of starlings materialized from my euphoria, almost all of them perfect, only a few of them carrying defects. They flitted around the room, chirping their annoyed conversation as the three people beneath them gasped and panted in satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” Gloria gasped, climbing up my body and laying her head on my heaving chest, her red eyes staring their adoration, “I forgot what it was like to lay with divinity.”

“Hey Gloria?” I said, feeling memories and thoughts rearrange in my head. “You’re not really my sister, are you?”

“You’re an absolute genius, Your Holiness,” Gloria smiled, planting a kiss on my nipple. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re a simple hillbilly from butt-fuck nowhere.”

“And you, Tera?” I asked as the succubus languidly crawled over to me, and rested her head in my lap. “You’re not really my sister either, are you?”

“I can be if you want,” Tera smiled blissfully, her tongue caressing my deflating member. “I’ll be whatever you want, whoever you want, however you want it, Brandon.”

“So,” I said, feeling my mind piece back together, “what the fuck was the point of all that?”

“Hmm,” Gloria hummed with a small smile as she lazily circled my nipple with her finger, “tell me, Your Holiness, what is the first thing that comes to your mind when I say the name, ‘Angela?’”

Angela sitting reservedly on the bed, clinging to a shawl that wraps her nubile figure. She stares nervously up at me, her shoulders hunched demurely, her smile small and shy. She looks down, bashful, her face blushing, her body shrinking. I take her by the chin, affectionately running my thumb over her flushing cheek, raising her gaze to meet mine. Her smile broadens, the fear leaves her, she lets the shawl go. It flows off her, draping from curve to curve until it shows her beautiful nakedness. I lower my face to hers, and her eyes close as her lips part.

“Oh… fuck,” I whispered as I grew hard as a rock.


I lay satisfied and ashamed, blissful and disgraced atop the table. The crowd was gone, the doors were locked, and the last man had finished inside me. The manic euphoria that had possessed me was gone, but I still felt different. I wasn’t the same woman who had walked through those brothel doors. I had enjoyed the sins meant to torment me, and had reveled in the debasement of myself. To make things worse, I realized I didn’t feel as ashamed as I wanted to. In fact, the biggest source of shame for me, was that I felt so little of it. There were warrior women who would have fallen on their own blade after enduring what I had endured, but me? I was looking forward to the next time it would happen. You are a disgrace, my conscience told me. You aren’t even a valkyrie anymore. I tried to convince myself this was all in the service of my god, that it was a noble sacrifice I had to make, but it didn’t feel that way. I had to be very careful and conscious of my state of being; Mistress said she’d try to twist and change me, and with Corruption inside her, she knew exactly how to do it.

“Astrid!” Mistress called jovially, a young, naked succubus on her arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, Mistress,” I smiled blissfully, savoring the hot, sticky seed covering my naked body, and then chastising myself for enjoying it.

“I bet,” Mistress smiled, brushing crusted strands of hair from my face, “you had such a big day, didn’t you?”

“Yes Mistress,” I sighed, peeling myself from the table top. I began to feel the disgust of my situation coming back to me, and I welcomed it; some of that old Iona pride was still in me. I had the sudden and visceral need to take a bath, to wash the day from my body and forget it all; forget the shame, forget the ecstasy, forget the way I acted, and forget the way I thought.

“Justina, would you mind cleaning Astrid off?” Mistress said to the woman on her arm, poking her in the ribs. “You look like you could use a meal.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Justina smiled, climbing atop the table and eyeing the filth that covered me with hungry eyes.

“Astrid, this is Justina, my long-lost cousin,” Mistress said, gesturing to the succubus crawling toward me. “She’s going to be like... your roommate. You and she are about the only two people I can really trust right now, so I want you two to get along.”

“She’s a succubus, Mistress,” I said, placing a foot atop the woman’s hair to stop her, trying to keep her skin from touching me. “How will I be of any use to you if I’m the mindless slave of another?”

“Oh, I already broke her in,” Mistress said, hefting her pants with some pride. “I control her seduction now. Hell, I control her everything now, which is why she’s so damn trustworthy. Let her clean you off, and then put your armor back on. We’re going to visit an old friend of mine.”

Willowbud walked back to her gang, leaving me alone with Justina. Grunt, Gronk, Flendian and Hacksaw all laughed and drank and stole leering glances at me, and I had the conflicting urges of either smiling back or bashing their skulls in. Instead of doing either of those things, I cast my eyes on the succubus girl who was slowly licking her way up my legs with her forked tongue. To a valkyrie, a succubus was lower than dirt. They were creatures without morals or codes, creatures who would do anything and everything to feed their bottomless hedonism. And yet, according to the highest authority in the world, the goddess of rock and stone, Justina was my equal. It’s fitting, really, my conscience chastised me, after what you did earlier.

“Well,” I sighed, relaxing on my elbows, “I suppose we should get to know each other.”

“Mmmm,” Justina replied, completely lost in her lustful feeding, her tongue working past my knees and up my thighs.

“I’m Astrid Skyborne,” I said, spreading my legs as she crawled between them. “I’m the daughter of Freydis, High Guard of Iona, if you can believe that.”

“Mmmm,” Justina replied again, her tongue flicking higher and higher.

“You’re not much for conversation, are you?” I chuckled, breathing a little faster as her forked-tongue began to tickle the outside of my gaping anus, tasting the reservoir of man that leaked from me. “I suppose we have that in common.”

Justina didn’t even bother humming an answer. She placed her small hands on either side of my gape, and spread me gently open, letting the seed spill onto her awaiting tongue. She lapped it up like a cat does milk, and then turned her violet eyes up to me, and lowered her lips to my pooling sphincter. Her mouth pressed tenderly to the stretched outline of my anus, and her tongue snaked as deeply as it could go, squirming through my insides and tasting every cum-covered surface that she could reach. I pet her onyx hair and moaned softly as her invading member tickled me with soothing caresses. Lesbianism was another oath I wasn’t supposed to break, but who was counting anymore? At this point, I might as well try to break the record for most broken oaths.

“I guess you’re the closest thing I have to a friend now,” I said softly, gently pushing her face deeper between my glutes. “I’ll try to not let my bitterness hurt you. Being the protector of a Creator is the highest honor a valkyrie can achieve, but our goddess is determined to crush my honor. I suspect if she has her way, I’ll be just like you in no time. Maybe you can show me how to live without shame.”

I tilted my head back and let out a sigh, savoring the feeling of Justina’s tongue. If this was to be the dynamic of our friendship, I guess I wouldn’t mind. I didn’t need idle conversation to pass the time, but a ‘friend’ who would listen to my verbalized thoughts without complaint or comment would be nice. I just wished she’d get back to licking me, because for some reason she’d stopped. Her tongue withdrew, her lips parted, and she breathed fast, shallow breaths on my entrance. I looked down, and saw two pale-blue eyes staring from a face they didn’t belong to.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Justina asked with a voice that was not her own. I didn’t need to think about what to do next. I trapped Justina between my thighs, gripped her horns, and prepared to snap her neck. Mistress’s cousin or not, it was obvious that she was an infiltrator with astral power; it seemed my god’s trust in the girl was misplaced. I was a breath away from ripping her spine apart when a feeling stopped me. A great, irresistible arousal awoke from between my thighs, coursed through my blood and seeped into my brain. Justina had her bare hands pressed to my womanhood, and they were spreading her seduction with full effect. The hormones bled into my mind, surged behind my eyes, and thrummed through every rational corner of my being. I would do anything for her, anything, as long as she sated the hunger that roared within me.

“Master,” I said, my hands falling to my sides, and my thighs spreading invitingly.

“Holy shit,” Master whispered, “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Please, Master,” I begged, thrusting my hips forward, “please feed from me!”

“Calm down!” Master hissed, looking nervously at the bar where Mistress and her gang were drinking. “I order you to shut the fuck up!”

I did as commanded, but the insatiable need still coursed through me. I twisted and squirmed, rocking on my heels and palms, lifting my pelvis aloft so that it was level with her face, my eyes burning with my desperation.

“I have some questions for you, Astrid,” Master said, “and you’re going to answer them quietly, OK?”

I nodded frantically, hoping beyond hope that if I answered her questions, Master would sate my need.

“Did you just say Willowbud is a Creator?” she asked, her forked-tongue flicking from her mouth and trailing its twin-points gently along my oozing slit.

“Yes,” I whispered, biting my lip with want, “she is the Earth Former.”

“Bullshit,” Master said, pulling her tongue away.

“It’s true!” I sobbed, trying to keep quiet like Master said while my desperation sung through my words. “Mistress brought down a hillside, she formed a statue of me from nothing, she ripped the bedrock from beneath the sand, and she re-forged the blade of Iona! Please, Master; please touch me!”

“Holy shit, you’re not lying,” Master whispered, her voice small and fearful.

“No!” I hissed, trying to remind Master of what I had to offer by driving my hips forward. “Valkyries cannot speak untruths! I would never lie to you! Please touch me!”

Master split my slit with forked fingers, and watched as a mixture of seed and nectar flowed freely from my reddened, swollen petals. She crinkled her nose as though it disgusted her, and then tested the concoction with a tentative lick. Her eyes widened, and she licked me again, and again, and again. Soon, her lips were wrapping around my petals, her dilated eyes were rolling into her head, and she was humming a whorish tone as her tongue wriggled wonderfully through my depths. I moaned with her, savoring every little motion of her mouth, gasping as she sucked gluttonously of my folds, hissing air through clenched teeth as her tongue caressed every vulnerable spot. She swallowed continuously as though she were drinking from a fountain, and then she pulled away, her pupils shrinking and her eyes refocusing.

“Holy fuck,” Master said, licking her lips, “cum is like crack to Justina’s body.”

“I have more!” I said, smiling adoringly and spreading my asshole for her. “Please, take all that you can!”

She wrinkled her nose again. “Can I get it in a bowl or something?”

“I will get you a bowl!”

“I’m joking, Astrid,” Master let out a defeated sigh. “For some reason, your gaping shithole looks absolutely delicious to me. God, I’m going to need therapy after all this.” Her eyes turned back to mine. “Tell me about Corruption,” she said, and slid her tongue down my taint to reenter my gaping rim.

“She’s an astral being, a Sentient—”

“I know what she is,” Master interrupted. “Tell me about her and Willowbud. In fact, tell me everything about Willowbud.”

I started from the beginning, telling Master about how I first met Mistress, how I’d made love to her, how she’d been so kind and humble. Then I told her about Corruption, how Mistress had saved me from her, how Mistress had lost her battle with the Sentient, and how I’d pledged my life to saving Mistress from Corruption. All the while, Master watched me with her pale blue eyes and ate from my holes, licking every drop of man left within me.

“Astrid,” Master finally said, slithering her tongue from my asshole, “I think I might be able to help you with Corruption. I’m saying this to you now so that once I release you from my—”

“No!” I exclaimed, “Please don’t let me go!”

“No more fucking talking!” Master hissed, looking nervously at the bar. She turned her eyes back on me when she confirmed they hadn’t noticed my outburst. “I’m saying this to you now so that once I release you, you don’t try to break my neck. We’re on the same side. I can’t tell you why, but just know, we’re on the same side.”

Master studied me with a discerning glare, and then said, “I release you from my service.” Rationality found purchase in my mind as the unquenchable arousal drifted from me. I felt exhausted, completely drained, and I fell back onto my elbows and stared weakly at the blue-eyed not-Justina.

“What are you?” I whispered fearfully, “And why should I trust you?”

“My name’s Angela,” Angela replied, resting her chin on my pelvis, “and letting you go should be enough for you to trust me.”

“It’s not,” I said, “you couldn’t keep me as a slave for long before Mistress noticed; you had to let me go.”

“I could have made you kill yourself,” Angela replied. “Willowbud would’ve believed me if I told her you cracked. All those precious oaths you’ve broken….”

That was painfully true. I winced at her words, but they did convince me.

“Ok, Angela,” I said, “I’m willing to play along for now. Tell me how you think you can help Mistress with Corruption.”

“I don’t know yet,” Angela said, looking slightly flustered, “I can’t see Corruption anymore, but when I did, it was like… it was like she was attracted to me, but not in a sexual way. She kept asking ‘what are you’ over and over again. She grabbed my hand—”

“She touched you?!” I gasped. “And nothing happened?”

“Well, it felt kind of nice,” Angela replied, “but that was about it. When I wouldn’t go with her, she stepped out of Willowbud’s body, and that’s when I realized their relationship was less than consensual. Corruption had this look on her face like she’d just locked herself out of her own house, while Willowbud (who was basically anally raping her cousin at that point) got this look of… confused-horror, I guess I’d call it. Anyway, Corruption jumped back into Willowbud and disappeared, and I haven’t seen her since.”

“I think she appears to you when Mistress is doing something she wouldn’t otherwise do without Corruption,” I said, nodding to myself, “like enslaving her own cousin.” I looked somberly down at Angela, “She’s a good person, Angela; she’s just… damaged. If you can get Corruption out of her, you’ll see for yourself.”

“I make no promises,” Angela said, “but I’ll try when the opportunity presents itself. That probably means the next time your mistress decides she wants to fuck her cousin.”

“I hope that’s soon,” I whispered as Mistress stepped away from the bar, “because she’s dangerous, Angela; really dangerous. We’re in a city of stone, and she’s the Earth Former.”

“I understand that,” Angela said, looking nervously at the approaching god. “I was planning on booking it the moment I got my chance, but I’ll stick around and see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, genuinely grateful, feeling hope for the first time since I’d left Tentigo.

Angela gave me a subtle nod, and then receded into Justina’s brain as Mistress stepped onto the table.

“Are you two getting along?” Mistress said, tousling my braided hair like I was a child.

“Yes, Mistress,” Justina and I said in unison, in almost equal levels of subservience. I smiled up at her, my renewed hope brimming from my face. I’ve found a way to save you, Willowbud, I thought, feeling like my old self again, and it only took me one day; that must be a new record.


The chandelier glowed its steady blue in Gloria’s room, illuminating the bags of foliage we’d harvested in a sapphire hue. The soil would take weeks to clean out, but at least all the birds and insects had since flown out the window. We’d completely forgotten about Alexa, and found her sleeping soundly beneath a layer of tulips. Brandon worked with stiff efficiency, not talking to any of us, seemingly lost in thought. Lost in incestual fantasy, more likely, I sniggered to myself.

Gloria stole more than a few glances at the boy, and I struggled to push down my jealousy. Brandon didn’t belong to any of us, but I found him first, so I felt like I at least had first-call on his dick. At least until he made Angela a new body. Then again, Angela seemed much more sexually open than her brother. Enough time spent in Justina’s head would definitely make her receptive to new and interesting dynamics. Oooo, an incestual foursome! Oh, the roleplay itself would be absolutely… what was that?

The chandelier glowed its deep red, marking someone’s blood on the door outside. I turned to Gloria, and she frowned. So, not expecting guests. Great. I reached beneath my cloak, grasped the daggers strapped to my hips, and I sniffed the air. There was a scent I recognized. A painfully familiar scent. A scent that had no idea where Gloria’s hideout was.

“Mother?” Justina called from outside.


Grunt, Gronk, Flendian, and Hacksaw stood at our flanks as Willowbud walked me to Gloria’s door with Astrid right behind us. I wanted to abandon Justina and rush into the house to tell Brandon what was up, but the enslaved succubus was boiling-over with the desire to tell her master all about him. The enslaved Justina bore very little of her usual sharp intellect, which made her mercifully easy to subdue, but damn, was she tenacious.

There’s a Creator in there, and his name is Brandon, and he is the Life Giver, and his sister is in my head, and her name is Angela, and she is conspiring against you with Astrid, and…

It went on and on like that, each phrase ending with an upward inflection, her tongue trying to form the words to please her new master. Thankfully, she wasn’t always like this. In her enslaved state, Justina’s forward-thinking self was replaced with a dumb bimbo of fleeting, present thought. Most of her inner-monologue went like: I love my master, and I want to suck her cock, and I want to cook her dinner, and I want her in my butt, and I want to buy her flowers, and I want to eat her ass, and I want to get her chocolates… Which, while annoying, was certainly easier to ignore than the train of treason she was spewing now. So, I could not leave Justina even for a second, and all I could do was hope that Tera and Gloria didn’t come out spoiling for a fight. As far as I could tell, Willowbud didn’t come here with violence in mind, but she was obviously ready for it.

“Go on,” Willowbud said, giving me a possessive squeeze on the ass, “call for mommy.”

“Mother?” I called, taking control of Justina’s mouth and hoping that my voice sounded enough like hers.

“Get ready, boys,” Grunt growled behind us, “they used to call this bitch ‘Death Kiss,’ and for good reason.”

“She won’t do anything when we got her daughter,” Hacksaw said. “She’ll come quietly.”

She did not come quietly. Justina knew that her mother was proficient in combat, but I don’t think Tera ever demonstrated it, because her daughter was as surprised as I was when she came flying out of that door.

Tera went left, and Gloria went right. Tera was buck-naked, I assumed to maximize the chances of skin-on-skin contact, while Gloria was covered head-to-toe in tight fitting fabric, with only her red eyes revealed beneath a veil. Tera jumped over Grunt’s club swing, rolled beneath Gronk’s axe, sliced Grunt’s calf to the bone with one dagger, and drew a line up Gronk’s arm with the other. Gloria made short work of Flendian; ducking beneath his sword swing, and driving her curved blade through his chest. She took a moment to rip out the dark elf’s throat with her fangs, and then pulled her blade from his chest in a graceful swing that separated his body along the cut. She did not fare as well against Hacksaw. The vampire was fast, inhumanly fast, but the half-giant could take the punishment. She slashed at him with her wicked-looking blade, and he let the edge cut into his forearm before grabbing the vampire by her wrist, and throwing her into the wall. Gloria crashed spread-eagle into the bricks, her impact accompanied by the sickening sound of bones cracking and the deflating whoosh of air blasting from her diaphragm. Tera somehow managed to plant both her feet on the side of Gronk’s head, snapping his face to the side and twisting his thick neck into a coil of tendons. He lurched backward, his jaw swinging freely from its hinge, his steps those of a stumbling drunk. Grunt righted himself on one leg, his other bleeding profusely, and he swung a two-handed arc at Tera’s blindside. The succubus moved as though she’d known it was coming the whole time, and deftly flipped backward over the dwarf. She cut two deep slices into his bald head as she swung over him, and Grunt screamed as his skull was exposed beneath his scalp. Hacksaw charged at the succubus, his shoulders down, his momentum seemingly unstoppable. Tera stood her ground until the last second, then slid between his legs, hooked her hands on his thighs, and let his momentum carry her into an arc until she flipped and landed gracefully on his shoulders, bare fingers touching bare neck. Hacksaw stopped abruptly; a smile of stupid bliss stretched across his scarred face.

“Tera,” Willowbud said beside me, sounding of slightly-bored amusement, “can we stop this?”

“I take it you’re Night Eyes?” Tera said, tousling her steed’s matted hair and grinning from her perch. “I’ve got to say, Gloria talked you up to be some kind of badass, and I’m a bit disappointed.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint,” Willowbud grinned, then turned toward Astrid. “You know what to do.”

Astrid strode forward, looking as magnificent as a creature could. Her braided golden hair draped over her broad shoulders, her wings glinted resplendently in the sun, her sword gleamed from crossguard to tip, and she held the massive weapon with the ease of obvious expertise. The scene looked biblical; the holy angel with her holy sword facing down a demoness riding atop a disfigured monster. Grunt and Gronk limped to the side, looking up in awe at their champion, waiting with bated breath for the showdown to commence. Astrid stepped forward, positioning her sword, crouching slightly. Hacksaw kicked his heels against the stones, seething like a bull ready to charge, his face contorted in rage at the woman who would dare challenge his master. Astrid stepped to the side, and with two swings of her sword, she decapitated Gronk, and then Grunt. Willowbud burst out laughing as the heads bounced, and rolled next to another head which already lay on the flagstone by the door.

“There’s some more for your collection, Gloria!” Willowbud laughed at the groaning vampire, who was clutching her broken ribs in the fetal position. Tera looked absolutely dumbstruck; she stood atop her steed with mouth agape, and Hacksaw looked up at her expectantly, awaiting orders that didn’t come. Astrid walked nonchalantly to the half-giant, cut off his legs in one swoop, and then took off his head with the next. Tera tumbled forward and sprawled onto the stones as Hacksaw’s head rolled down the street, and her daggers slid after it. Astrid’s blade rested softly on her throat, and Tera conceded.

“Old Terry’s betrayal got me good and spooked,” Willowbud said, stepping over Hacksaw’s corpse and crouching in front of Tera. “So I decided some housecleaning was in order. I need people whose trust can’t be bought or bullied; people like you, Tera.”

“You enslaved my daughter,” Tera said, glancing at me, “and you expect me to join you?”

“To be fair,” Willowbud said, sitting cross-legged on the stones, “your daughter tried to enslave me first. I was just returning the favor.”

“You lie!” Tera snarled.

Willowbud just shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not much of a liar,” she said, resting her bare hand on Tera’s bare breast, and grinning as Tera’s eyes went wide, “I’m a thief, a rapist, a torturer and a killer, but lying’s not in my repertoire.”

“Corruption has you,” Tera said, her voice shaking slightly. “You’re the whore of a Sentient.”

“Ooo, that was a good guess!” Willowbud exclaimed. “Did you figure that out on your own, or did Gloria help you?” Willowbud turned to the incapacitated vampire, “How ya doing over there, Gloria?”

The vampire coughed blood in response, and I took the opportunity to look Tera squarely in the eye, and let my eye color show. She gave me a subtle nod before Willowbud returned her gaze to her.

“Corruption has me like you have herpes, Tera;” Willowbud said, “she’s there, and she’s never leaving, but you learn to live with it. Sure, I might make a brash decision, sometimes I might kill a lot of people, but they’re still my choices. It’s not like there’s voices in my head. At least, not like what’s going on with your daughter.”

My breath caught in my throat, my hair stood up, and I pissed myself. A chair of stone formed beneath me, butting against the backs of my knees and forcing me to sit. A similar chair of stone smacked into Astrid’s legs, much harder than had happened to me, and she sprawled into it, barely holding onto her sword. Tera’s expression of shock was glued comically to her face as her body was folded forward in another armchair of cobblestone. Willowbud stood between us all, a shit-eating grin shining from her tan face.

“Next time you want to have a secret conversation, Angela,” Willowbud laughed at me, “you better move further than across the fucking room; I hear everything!” She tapped her foot against the cobblestone, “I can hear your blood moving in your veins, your shit moving in your guts, and your piss running down your skirt; though, I can see that as well.”

She wheeled on Astrid, who shrank in her chair, cowering before her god.

“And you,” Willowbud snarled, causing Astrid to cower even more, “you traitorous bitch, you conniving cunt, you…” she broke off in a fit of laughter as Astrid grew smaller and smaller in her chair, her eyes wide, her lips trembling, “I’m just fucking with you, Astrid. You only did what you said you’d do, and bravo for finding a sucker willing to help you. I like that kind of initiative.”

Willowbud made a chair for herself, noticeably higher than everyone else’s, and she smiled down at the gawking faces of Tera, and myself.

“The Earth Former?” Tera asked, her eyes bulging, her mouth agape, her voice barely a whisper.

“I prefer to be called ‘Night Eyes,’” Willowbud said, and winked at me as she leaned forward, “but since you’re family, Auntie, you can call me ‘Willowbud.’”

I didn’t think Tera’s jaw could go any lower, but I was wrong. Her cheeks went gaunt with her gawking.

“It’s just a day full of surprises, isn’t it?” Willowbud chuckled, “This is why I love this city; you never know what tomorrow may bring. Isn’t that right, Gloria?”

I turned around, and saw Gloria slumped in a chair of her own, looking as confused and horrified as her succubus friend. Her chair shifted forward, sliding as though on ice. Our circle of chairs widened, and made room for the vampire. Willowbud grinned broadly at the woman.

“I bet you’re realizing that you never had a chance against me, Gloria,” Willowbud smiled, “but I appreciated your efforts. Is that Alexa I hear snoring in your house? And who’s that young man behind the door?”

“H-h-h-he’s my dinner, Your Holiness.” Gloria stammered beneath her veil.

‘You’re Holiness?’” Willowbud exclaimed. “I never figured you for a Creationist. I bet that’s not the usual moniker you have for me. I bet it’s usually ‘that cunt’ or ‘that fucking bitch,’ isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Your Holiness,” Gloria muttered.

“Well, normally I like to be referred to as ‘boss,’ ‘Night Eyes,’ or occasionally, ‘Mistress,’” Willowbud said, “but in your case, I think ‘Your Holiness’ will do just fine. In the end, there’s really only one god that matters.”

A stone spike shot through the vampire’s chest, spraying blood across Astrid’s face. Gloria’s red eyes widened for a second, and then faded as her head dropped. Tera let out a blood-curdling scream and made a move to launch at Willowbud, but her hands were bound to the chair before she even got off her ass.

“She tried to kill me, Auntie, so don’t act like I’m the bad guy here,” Willowbud said as Tera thrashed. “You’ve got to be level-headed about these things. How many poor bastards did you kill?”

“She could have helped you!” Tera screamed. “She could have saved you from that thing inside you!”

“First Angela, now Gloria? There’s just saviors on every corner in this city!” Willowbud laughed. I wondered how much longer I had until a spike shot through my back. There was no warning, no indication. It just happened, and that was it. I had a mental flash of rolling wheels, and the sound of a baying oxen as hoofs trampled. I was not ready to experience anything like that again.

“Gloria would have saved me right after she was done breaking the last of my bones,” Willowbud said. “I sent a lot of her blood-children into the dirt. I mean a lot, and not in nice ways. Stakes through the palms and left to burn in the sun was my favorite method, but Hacksaw and Gronk had their ways as well.”

“And you expect me to join your gang after all this?!” Tera cried. “To torture and kill?!”

“No, no, no!” Willowbud laughed, shaking her head. “I’m done with the gangster business. I turned that page of my life just now,” she gestured to Gloria, “my last enemy dead. No, I’m in the entertainment business now; a much seedier, more cutthroat business than drug dealing and whores ever were. I don’t need thugs and brutes anymore; I need stone-cold-killers and foxy broads. You happen to fulfill both those needs.”

“You’re insane,” Tera gasped, her eyes trembling. “You’re a god, a being of immeasurable power, and you want to be a show producer?

“Fight promoter, actually,” Willowbud grinned, “and I never made any claims on sanity.” She turned to me and gave me another wink, “But you know all about that, don’t you, Justina-slash-Angela? I gotta know; when exactly did you go so crazy that your brain split right in half?”

Angela’s a dead girl, and the Life Giver is in that house, and could you please fuck me, and—

“When I was ten,” I said before Justina could blurt out the truth, “my best friend got run over by an oxen cart, and now she lives in my head.”

“Then you used an astral enchantment to change the eye color,” Willowbud smiled, almost endearingly, “and viola; Angela lives.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, trying to sound as nuts as possible, “that’s just my natural eye color.”

“Your clairvoyant, aren’t you?” Willowbud said, looking closely at me. “You can see astral beings as clear as day, even melded ones.”

“Yes,” I said as Justina screamed the truth in my head. Willowbud leaned forward, took my hand in hers and brought that hand to her mouth. I half-expected her to bite my fingers off, but instead, she kissed it with love and reverence, which was somehow worse.

“You’re as broken as me, Cousin,” she whispered, her black eyes gleaming behind almost-affectionate irises, “cursed with gifts you didn’t ask for, forced into hiding from a world that hates you. You’re not in Towerhead anymore; no one’s going to hurt you with me around.”

“Willowbud,” Tera said, her voice ragged, “please release my daughter. It’s me you want.”

“It’s both of you,” Willowbud said, her eyes glistening, “my family, my real family. The family that was cast out like I was, the family turned away from the world just for being born.”

“Willowbud,” Tera said, her voice hushed, tears streaking down her cheek, “please.”

“You don’t need to fear me, Tera,” Willowbud said, turning away from me, and leaning toward Tera until their faces were breaths apart. “I would never hurt my family.”

A single tear ran down Willowbud’s cheek as she gazed into her aunt’s glazed eyes. Tera’s wet face was caste in the golden light of dusk, and Willowbud’s was black with the shrieking face of Corruption. The Sentient was writhing as if in agony, tortured by whatever thought had caused Willowbud to cry.

“No,” Willowbud whispered, taking Tera’s trembling chin into her hand, and tilting it until their lips brushed, “family is sacred.”

Their mouths connected. Willowbud ran her hand through Tera’s onyx mane as she sucked gently from her lips, their cheeks growing gaunt in their embrace. Her fingers trailed behind Tera’s ear, caressed back-handedly along the pronounced line of her jaw, and then rested in a gentle clasp about her neck, just above the collar. It was a subtle a move, but a threatening one, and Tera melted in it. She couldn’t help it; much like Justina couldn’t help her sexual nature, but it was still disappointing to see her give in so easily. Her violet eyes closed, and she tilted her head further back, letting Willowbud’s white hair mingle with her black. Corruption relaxed in her host’s mind and slowly faded from view; the thought that had tortured her no longer present. The nymph finally parted from Tera, whose eyes shown with a mixture of fear, hatred and desire. Willowbud was pleased with the expression. Her demeanor flipped like a switch, and she wiped away the single tear that had rolled down her cheek, and curled her lips in her usual grin. Tera’s binds popped free, and the chairs we all sat in melted back into the street. Gloria’s body shifted dumbly until it rested flat on the cobblestones, the spike shrinking from her wound until the hole in her chest was empty.

“No witnesses, only widows, eh, Death Kiss?” Willowbud laughed. “We can’t have the whole city wondering how the street turned into a living room.”

“I guess not,” Tera said numbly, in complete disbelief of her situation.

“Alright!” Willowbud exclaimed happily, taking Astrid by the hand and turning on her heel. “Now let’s all go back to The Screeching Siren, have some brews, and reminisce about old times in Arbortus. We can talk about how much of a cunt Flora Autumnsong is until the taps run dry.”

Willowbud actually skipped away with Astrid in tow, the pair looking like an excited child and her frustrated mother. I looked at Tera, and she looked at me, seeing my blue eyes shining from her enslaved daughter’s face. I glanced at the door to Gloria’s house, and she nodded. Then we followed the skipping god back to The Screeching Siren, carrying the vain consolation that despite everything, Brandon was still safe. Still safe as long as I stayed inside Justina to keep her mouth shut. Still safe for as long as I could endure the Earth Former’s idea of fun.


Alexa was snoring like nothing was happening, making it incredibly difficult to listen through the door. Why Gloria didn’t put a peephole in the fucking thing was a mystery, and it took all my will not to open it a crack and see what was going on. Early on, there was fighting, screaming and yelling, but that had stopped. Then, there was a lot of talking, some laughter from a voice I didn’t recognize, and a screech so shrill it could’ve come from a stuck pig. Then more talking, footsteps, and nothing. I waited for what felt like an eternity, and nothing continued to happen. I took a deep breath, steeled my courage, and opened the door.

The sun was setting between the buildings, casting the world in a glaring orange hue punctuated by sharp and sudden shadows. Gloria lay in the middle of the street, her arms splayed to her sides, blood pooling from a massive wound in her chest. I stepped cautiously forward, looking at the headless bodies that littered the roadway, trying to keep my stomach from churning. I expected killers to pop out at any moment, beasts with human hides as clothing and skulls as helmets, but nothing happened. Tera and Justina weren’t among the dead, which was good, but I doubted their lives were in safe hands. Whoever this Night Eyes was, she clearly didn’t fuck around. I knelt over Gloria’s body, closed my eyes, and touched my thumb to her brow. She was technically dead, her heart was an exploded piece of pulp, but the faint vestiges of life still thrummed in her mind. Time to make like a god, and perform a miracle.

Blue light radiated from my palm, and spread into Gloria. It laced through her skin in winding tendrils, flitting this way and that, fracturing randomly like cracks in the ice. The light pooled around her chest wound, seeped into the bloody cavern, and began to move pieces of her back together. The tattered remains of her heart righted themselves and then melded, each chamber forming and taking shape until the entire organ stood perfectly in her chest. A pulse of blue power shot along the arteries that held it in place, and the heart contracted violently before beating with life. Gloria’s eyes flashed open, she gasped in a deep breath, and she screamed. The bones, muscles, sinew and skin stitched back into place, and the pain receded from Gloria’s wail as the last strip of flesh was melded seamlessly back together. She coughed up a splatter of blood through her veil, and I eased her upright as she hacked the remnants of her mortal wound onto the cobblestones. She wiped her lips, her breathing shallow and frantic, her eyes wide. She looked at her hands as if they were foreign to her, touched her face as if it had never been there before, breathed deliberate, deep breaths as if the action was the only thing that mattered in the world. She looked at me with panicked, disbelieving eyes, her mouth working to find words that wouldn’t come. Her lips trembled, and her crimson eyes welled.

“You’re alive,” I said, pulling her close and letting her vent into my chest, “and you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Excerpt from Arbitrus Gen’s Journal, Chapter Eleven, Page One-hundred Fifty

The Creators before us—Gratora, Hektin and Dawnbark—all believed that working in congress was the best way to progress civilization. My contemporaries in Furok and Droktin shared this sentiment, as they would, for they both haled from the great orc empire, as did Hektin and Gratora before them. Ray Dawnbark was both a nymph and a Life Giver, which naturally made him a pacifist’s pacifist, so he did not oppose the accelerated progression of the orc empire. Many celebrated his passiveness, for so many cycles have been marred by cataclysmic destruction between us so-called gods, but those that praised peace did not see where it would lead. Unchecked creation leads inexorably to unchecked destruction. There is a balance that needs to be drawn. No further proof of this needs to be brought forward then when Droktin opened his pass, and cost the lives of millions. Some called me a monster for what I did in response to this attack, and perhaps I am. Only the Holy Mother can judge me, for it was the Holy Mother who gave me these gifts. I took no joy in Hektinar’s destruction, but make no mistake, reader, Hektinar needed to be destroyed. The evils that festered behind those high shining walls were unspeakable, and the atrocities the orc horde committed under Droktin’s unprovoked attack needed to be answered. Call me what you will; murderer, genocidaire. I will not refute you, but if you saw what I saw, you would understand.

But I digress. The Life Giver and Earth Former are natural Creators. The question is then posed, what is the Heat Bringer? What does fire create? The ancients did not call ‘the Heat Bringer’ a Creator. It was not until Hektin tempered the steel city of his namesake that the Heat Bringer was identified with the rest, but I would argue the validity of this label. Hektin simply annealed the iron shaped by Gratora. In a sense, he was a master of transfiguration, but not a Creator. So then, what did the ancients call the Heat Bringer?

They called us ‘The Destroyer.’



2021-05-06 05:28:54
mm.. great story! Look at the photos and videos of sexy girls -

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