The Creators Ch. 06

Goddamn it, I thought, desperately trying to remember what the fuck a fox even was, my mind was so preoccupied. Bushy tail... orange fur... are they cats? No, they're dogs. Pointed ears... white highlights... Angela stroking me, her breath on my lips, her breasts on my chest, her...

"Am I distracting you?" Gloria smirked, her red tongue circling my nipple.

"Your fucking witchcraft is," I groaned. "I would really like it if you un-fucked my mind."

"Having dirty thoughts about your sister, hmm?" Gloria chuckled, her tongue sliding lower and lower, a trail of saliva sheening my abdomen. "Sorry, Your Holiness, but the change is permanent. You can pretend I'm her, if it helps."

"God, I fucking hate you," I grumbled as Gloria's playful mouth moved to my pelvis.

"You can show me just how much you hate me," Gloria giggled, stopping just before my shaft, "once you make me a new pet."

Her lips hovered just above my tip, her breath blowing gently on the froth of precum at its apex, her eyes smiling teasingly from the black outline of her eyeshadow. A single elegant finger ran up my length, brushing along every bump and vein, and then sliding back down, caressing me, petting me. Another finger moved into the lacing of her corset, and freed her breasts in a wonderful jiggle. They pillowed against my pelvis, pressed on all sides of my shaft, and enveloped all but the last inch of my length. Gloria's cheeks went gaunt in a girlish pursing of her lips, and she poked her tongue from the glistening trap of her mouth, and began tortuously licking my throbbing head.

"Oh, goddamn it!" I growled in frustration. There was no way I was getting anything done with this level of distraction.

"You're doing it all wrong," Gloria smiled. "Stop trying to paint it in your head. You can't think something alive; you need to birth it from your soul. Feel me, let my pleasure guide you, and let the life flow naturally from your mind."

I let my mind go blank. Gloria wrapped her lips about my tip, and pushed her palms against her breasts, squishing them about my throbbing cock. I marveled at the sensation of her warm malleable flesh enveloping me, her breasts rising and falling with her pressing hands, massaging me with softness as her lips rotated, and her tongue slid down. Wet warmth surrounded me as her chin separated her encasing bosom, her throat taking me easily, her fangs sinking pleasantly into the base of my shaft to inject her erogenous venom, making me harder, filling my synapses with predatory lust, dragging deep into a primal trance. Then, it was there, perfect as could be, right in the center of my mind. I let the image flow from my cognizance and into the world, and the pet fox Gloria desired glowed an ethereal blue, and materialized before us. It gave us each a confused look, and then padded to the corner, and curled into a ball.

"A deal's a deal, Gloria," I smirked, petting her hair.

"So, it is," Gloria's low, sultry voice sang out, her half-mast eyes telling me she was ready for anything, "well done. How do you want me?"

"I want you..." I said, teasing her lips with a thumb, and smiling as she sucked it, "...to help me get into The Screeching Siren to contact Angela."

Gloria's seductive gaze narrowed to slits, her playful smirk thinned to a frown, and her grip on my cock grew a little too tight.

"You said anything!" I exclaimed.

"I meant scat-play or something," Gloria growled. "I didn't mean assist you with your suicide!"

"Am I not your god?!" I yelled, my pitch a little too high as Gloria's grip grew tighter. She somehow managed to narrow her eyes even more. Her nose wrinkled in a sneer with her curling lip, and then she sighed, and released me.

"Yes," she mumbled begrudgingly, "you are."

"So, you'll help me?" I asked. Gloria bit her lip, a shining fang protruding threateningly. She nodded, and I smiled. I can't believe that worked.

"Don't be too pleased with yourself, Your Holiness," Gloria said, retightening her grip around my cock. "The tradeoff is that now, I get to do whatever I want to you."

"I don't remember making that deal!" I squeaked as Gloria wetted two fingers between her sucking lips.

"I don't give a shit," she smiled cruelly, spreading my ass-cheeks open with a splayed hand as she slid her sheened fingers down my taint.

"I am your god!" I said, struggling helplessly, "and I demand you to—"

"You're my bitch," Gloria sneered, arousal and malevolence mixing in red eyes, "now moan like one."

It wasn't very hard for Gloria to make me her bitch. She pushed her middle and ring fingers against the tight aperture of my sphincter, smirked at me a final time, and then drove both digits to the bottom knuckle, and that was it; I was her little bitch. Her elegant penetrators slid through the tight channel of my backdoor, curled against my prostate, and massaged me slowly, maliciously, making me moan like a little man-slut and thrust pathetically into the air.

"Look at you," Gloria whispered, her eyes brimming with lustful control, "a divinity of infinite power, reduced to a whimpering anal whore with just two fingers. Tera's not here to save you now, little brother."

"Don't start that shit again!" I groaned, rocking on my heels without meaning to. Gloria's fingers moved in and out gradually, making me feel every curve of her knuckles, and every line of her prints. She stretched me out gently, and pressed tenderly against my internal organ, moving back and forth until it twitched with sporadic pleasure, forcing my cock to pulse with tortuous need, spurts of cum leaking down the shaft in milky rivulets.

"Oh, you don't like incest-play?" Gloria cooed softly, reveling in her power, stroking me possessively with her other hand. "Because I know you do, Your Holiness; I know you love the idea of plowing into your innocent, twin sister. Can you imagine what Willowbud is doing to her now? She might not be so innocent when you meet her. She might be an anal slut just like her beloved brother."

"Shut up!" I yelled, though I couldn't stop myself from moaning it through trembling lips, I couldn't stop myself from shifting and thrusting in the air, I couldn't stop myself from clenching around Gloria's penetrating fingers.

"Did that upset you?" Gloria laughed, "I'm sorry, Your Holiness; I'll be a gentle mistress now. You just do what I tell you, and I'll make everything better."

Gloria slid her body upward, arching her back, looming over me with a twisted grin corrupting her lush lips. She turned around and straddled me, displaying her leaking slit between fishnet-clad thighs of pale succulence, and the tight pink spokes of her winking anus. The supple domes of her backside neared me, rotating teasingly with the rotation of her penetrating digits, her body defiling me in congruence. Her cheeks enveloped my face, and my nose was filled with the tang of her intoxicating femininity. My lips pressed to her taint, and her lips pressed to my tip. I let myself relax beneath her, give in to her, become hers completely. She bent her penetrating fingers at the middle knuckle, pressing her joints into my sensitive flesh as her fingertips pushed against my prostate, causing my cock to engorge to agonizing levels. I groaned pathetically, my hips thrusting weakly, my hands gripping the fatty domes that filled my vision, and spreading.

My tongue circled her pink spokes, tasting the delicious sin of her wrong hole. She encouraged me to continue with a deepening of her penetration, and I wrapped my lips around the twitching center of her rim, and pushed my tongue between them. She opened up to me with the uncoiling resistance I desired, and her delicious filthy flavor filled my mouth, encasing my tongue on all sides in tender wet flesh which pulsed faintly with the fluttering cadence of her heart. Her pussy leaked its approving nectar onto my chin, and I placated it with caressing fingers, marveling how my digits wettened through her delicate petals. Her lips finally rewarded me for my subservience, and my gothic mistress consumed me in a gurgling dive. Her nose pressed into the loose flesh of my sack, and she smelled me indulgently, wafting in the scent of my loins, milking my hormones from my massaged prostate. Her throat swallowed continuously, her fangs bit me painlessly, and she fed with deep slurps, never relenting my shaft, just sucking and swallowing with it nestled into her gullet. I sucked her rim into a swollen circle and pushed deeper with my tongue, exploring her tight reaches with brazen curiosity, searching for the spot that would drop her pelvis like a hammer to an anvil. I found it, and she reacted beautifully. I could practically feel her eyes rolling into her head as her ass tried to swallow my face.

Her thighs pressed against the sides of my head, trapping in me in a delightful pillow of pale fat. She shifted her hips upward, satisfied with my work, and beckoned me to continue lower. I pulled my tongue and lips from her ass, now sheened with my spit and slightly swollen with my sucks, and left her momentarily vacant. She expressed her disapproval with a sharp twisting of her fingers, causing me to lurch upward and almost blow my entire being into her continuously-swallowing throat. I apologized with a passionate kiss upon her taint, tasting the mixture of her two holes, and I corrected my mistake by pushing two fingers from each hand into her wetted rim, and stretching her open. She hummed around my cock and rotated her lips about my base, rewarding me for doing what she desired as her body relaxed in satisfaction atop mine.

My nose dragged along the convulsing stretch of her taint as my lips found the frothing slit beneath it. I ran my tongue through the tender length of her lower lips, their petals giving way to me and releasing the reservoir of need that dribbled down my chin. I tasted the sweet syrup of her desire, and took her reddened folds into my mouth, sucking gently as my tongue slid against her ceiling, seeking out her weak spot. I found it easily enough, as Gloria's thighs tried to tear my head off, and I zeroed in on it, tortured it mercilessly, sliding my wet invading member across its length without reprieve. The middle and ring fingers of both my hands began methodically stretching my mistress's anus gaping, sending convulsions down her fleshy internal division as my tongue worked the vampire into a writhe of shifting hips and a gyrating abdomen. She reciprocated by moving her penetrating fingers in and out, never pulling all the way, but dragging them along the stretch of my internal organ, causing it to convulse and pulse with imminent release.

Her mouth moved passionately along me, sucking with squelching tightness, her lips stretching from her face and her cheeks growing gaunt. She hummed around me, the tenor of her voice growing in pitch with each motion of my tongue, each knuckle of my fingers, and each inch of her expanding gape. I began to thrust chaotically into her, unable to control my masculine instincts, compelled like a puppet by her invading digits. She took me all the way into her throat, her voice carrying her gagging euphoria, her free hand pushing me upward by the glutes, trapping me into her mouth. Her pussy began to spurt and twitch against my lips, her anus began to wink and clench around my fingers, her abdomen began to ripple with her ascension. I growled into her depths and she screamed around my throat, and the boiling of my loins accompanied the churning of her nethers. We stiffened against one another, our muffled voices screeching our ascension, and we exploded our release into each other's mouths. I felt my prostate empty in felicitous relief as I erupted down my mistress's throat, and I tasted the flood of her climax as it filled my mouth and cascaded from my lips. We hummed mutual tones of delight with our bodies writhing in the final motions of our lust, and then relaxed languidly in a heap of sweat and satisfaction.

"You did it again," Gloria laughed, her voice punctuated by breathy expulsions.

"What?" I asked as her ass left my face, strings of her sticky nectar snapping from my lips. I looked around, and saw that I had once again, turned Gloria's room into a garden. Vines, stalks, flowers and vegetables littered the floor, and in the middle of it all, stood a perfect, very confused-looking buck.

"Wow," I said, marveling at the majestic creature I had formed from nothing, "look at that!"

"He's beautiful," Gloria smiled back at me, languidly pulling herself from my body. She stepped cautiously toward the animal, her hand outstretched, her gait careful and unthreatening. She placed a gentle palm on its flank and pet it, her black hair tumbling behind her as she gazed wondrously into its proud face. The deer closed its eyes and bent demurely for the vampire, and she grabbed it swiftly by the antlers, and snapped its neck in less than a second.

"What the fuck!" I yelled angrily.

"I thought you'd made me dinner, Your Holiness," Gloria smiled with faux-innocence as she guided the dead animal to the floor. "Did I misinterpret your intention? I'm sorry."

"Why did you do that?!" I exclaimed.

"Would you prefer that I hunt instead?" Gloria asked as she ran her fingers along the buck's neck, searching for the vein. "Would you like me to lure unsuspecting men and women back to my abode, and watch as I drain them of life? It's a little kinky, but if that's what Your Holiness wants of me..."

"No," I said, gulping. I'd forgotten what Gloria was, and I had the nagging feeling that were I not a Creator, I would be lunch (more-so than I already was).

"I didn't think so," Gloria smiled as she lowered her fangs to the buck's throat. There was something oddly alluring about watching her feed. Her pupils dilated until her crimson eyes were nearly black, her elegant neck tensed as it swallowed, and her fingers pet the corpse covetously, almost tenderly, as she drank. Within minutes, the beast had shriveled, and Gloria was renewed with youth, flush and full. I glanced from the dead carcass, to the rejuvenated immortal, and an idea formed.

"Hey Gloria, why can't I just tether Angela to her new body?"

"Because that's not how tethering works."

"Tethering is tying someone to an idea they have a great affinity for." I patted my bare chest. "What do we have more affinity for than our own bodies?"

Gloria held up a delaying finger, then stepped carefully through the garden and to a bookshelf. She paused when she got there, and turned to me.

"Brandon, is there any chance in the world you've ever heard of a book called 'The Broken Bridge?'"

"No."

"I don't know why I asked," Gloria scowled at her numerous books. "Still, you never know what might pop-up in a cow-town antique shop."

"Is it important?"

"It's likely the most important book in the world," she muttered, running her fingers down the spines of her library. "Maybe even more important than the Maternal Bible. The man who wrote it was a genius of his time, revered even by Furok and Droktin. His research was said to have shaken the very foundations of reality, and that is likely why the book is lost forever. What I have here is a great collection of knowledge, but there are so many gaps in it, and that one book fills them all." She sighed, selected a large tome from her shelf, then walked to me, and parked her naked fat ass in my lap.

"Still, what this encyclopedia should answer your question. There are three known connections between the planes," Gloria explained, showing me a diagram. "The first connection between planes is binding, which happens between the body, mind and soul of a Creator and their partner. Tethering happens between the body, mind and soul of an individual. Your body is not of the astral plane, Brandon; it your vessel of the physical plane. For the tether to work, your mind must identify so strongly with something in the physical plane that your soul can be attached to its idea in the astral plane. The soul attaches to the idea, and the idea attaches to its physical manifestation. The Tethered One named 'Honor' was a woman I knew once. She was Furok and Halok's sister, a zealot of the orc empire, so devoted to its progress that she never took a man, never had a child, never did anything at all but advance her perception of the empire. Furok made her the eternal guardian of Droktinar, and so she stays there to this day, protecting the last piece of the old orc empire." Gloria looked up at me. "Tethered Ones are not sane, Brandon. Immortal dedication to an idea requires much more than a passing fancy."

"Oh," I sighed. "Well, what about the third connection?"

"That is the connection from mind to mind," Gloria said, and closed the book. "That is called 'melding,' and there is only one thing that does it."

TERA

I could cut her throat right now, I thought as I watched Willowbud's naked chest rise and fall with her sleeping breaths. It would be so easy.

The morning sun shined a dusty beam through the window, bathing the four of us in a gentle glow. Astrid shifted noisily across the bed, her feathered wings acting as a blanket for her mistress and her new succubus peers. She nestled her naked body against my daughter, and Justina smiled in her sleep, and scooched deeper into the valkyrie's embrace.

She almost looks like herself right now, I thought grimly as I watched my daughter, but once she opens her eyes, it's not her. It's either Angela, or a mindless whore, but not my Justina. I glanced up at Willowbud. And that's why she feels so safe with me; the arrogant bitch is lording her control over me, daring me to do something. She knows I won't; she knows she has me.

"Good morning, Tera," Willowbud said, her eyes still closed. "Thinking about slitting my throat?"

"Are you a mind-reader now?" I laughed humorlessly.

"I kind of am, actually, but it doesn't take much conjecture to know what you're thinking," Willowbud smiled sleepily, eyes opening to slits. "But I'm patient; you'll come around to my side eventually."

"As long as my daughter is your slave," I said, shifting against my niece, pressing my naked body to hers, "I'll always want to kill you."

"Angela isn't affected by my slavery," Willowbud said, turning her body over, pressing her flaccid cock against my inner thigh, "you still have half your daughter."

I didn't answer her. I didn't know how long Angela could keep up the façade, but every time Willowbud mentioned her to me, her black eyes twinkled as if she knew I was hiding something.

"Astrid needs to be punished for letting that girl go in the arena yesterday," Willowbud smiled, brushing my hair from my eyes. "I'd like you to be her torturer today."

"Why would I do that?" I asked, unable to stop myself from pressing deeper into her, unable to resist the touch of her lust. I hated myself for loving how good she felt inside of me.

"Because I asked you to," Willowbud said softly, touching me so possessively, knowing she had me hinging on the very tips of her fingers, "and because I want to see how sadistic a five-hundred-year-old seductress can be."

"Maybe you should take her place," I smirked, running a thumb over her lush lips, "then you could know for yourself."

"I don't doubt that you'd have me begging in my own filth," Willowbud chuckled, "but that's not really my thing."

"And what is your thing?" I asked, crossing my bronze thigh over her caramel leg, bringing our crotches together.

"I like to transform people," Willowbud whispered into my open mouth, her lips brushing against mine, "I like to watch them succumb to their worst selves."

"And what's my worst self?" I breathed, my heart fluttering as her cock began to engorge between my legs.