The Creators Ch. 08

"Let me teach you," Astrid's muffled voice came as her nose pressed to my taint, and her lips brushed my slit. I stretched myself down her abdomen and dipped my head between her legs, eagerly awaiting her instruction. From the tops of my eyes, I saw that Willowbud was blatantly ignoring my advice. I grinned; she'd regret that.

JULIA

My wrists were raw against Night Eyes' binds, my knees scraped from the lurching of our bodies, my asshole was a gaping ruin of abused flesh, stinging its wonderful pain deep into me. Spit leaked from my gritted teeth as I bucked in the throes of passion, driving my body back, growling my heinous delight as Night Eyes pierced me with brutal thrusts. I'd never been taken by an abusive lover before, and I absolutely reveled in it. There was nothing Night Eyes couldn't do to me, no degradation that wouldn't heighten my arousal, no humiliation I wouldn't enjoy. My head fell between my outstretched arms, hair dangling in my face, cries flowing from my parted lips as I exalted into the stone beneath me. I strained in my binds, enchanted by my imprisonment, loving how little control I had, loving how vulnerable I was. Night Eyes took full advantage of my vulnerability. She procured her belt from her pants, and draped it threateningly over my shoulder. I shivered with anticipation, pushing my ass into her crotch and grinding it, clenching around her driving cock and beckoning, begging her to continue. She struck me, the leather lashing across my back, and my belly touched the stone as my spine wrenched, my voice crying its gratitude. She struck me again, and again and again, each blow landing on virgin flesh, each slap of leather sending stings deep into me, mingling their pain with the ecstatic agony of my anal violation, heightening the abuse, heightening the pleasure, bringing me closer, closer, closer. I wasn't crying out from the whips anymore, but moaning for more, begging for more, shuddering as the pain became pleasure, my pussy oozing with it, my cock drooling from it, my ass clenching with it, my mind losing itself, going blank, the euphoria building, the pressure expanding, the feeling coming closer, closer, closer.

"More!" I begged. "More, more, more! Oh, Good Mother, MORE!"

Night Eyes tied the belt around my neck, making a leash of the slack as she cinched the collar tight, constricting my windpipe. "More!" I squeaked even as my lungs burned for air, as my face reddened.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Night Eyes hissed in my ear, her breath ragged with exhaustion, her voice moaning as my soft innards rewarded her for the abuse. She planted a foot on the side of my face and pushed it to the ground, the leash tightening, one cheek pressing to cold stone, the other squished against her sole, my mouth squealing delightedly, my hips shimmying, grinding, pushing in contest with Night Eyes' accelerating thrusts, trying to get her as deep into my sinful ruined shithole as possible. She began pulling on the leash, pushing with her foot, her hips driving to a fervent cadence, compelling my body into a blur of jiggling pale flesh, forcing me to the precipice, forcing me closer, closer, closer. The pressure in my nethers built, the invasion of my cunt mingling with the perverse ecstasy of my shithole, the spasms in my rectum churning to a continuous convulsion, my cock curving backward as my prostate quaked, bringing me closer, closer, closer.

"More!" I screamed, my voice growing higher with each syllable, "More, more, more, more..."

WILLOWBUD

Sister Julia's back was a mosaic of welts, her pale ass was red with handprints, her cheeks were ruby with my strikes, and yet she begged for more. Even if I had my toys handy, I doubted I could've found the sister's limit. She wasn't the masochistic bimbo I thought she was; she was a sexual martyr. As I abused her, as I slapped, whipped and spanked, as I yanked, choked and ripped, I searched for the fear in her eyes, for the plea for mercy, but I didn't find it. All I found in those emerald orbs, was the hopeful gaze of depravity, and the threat lurking behind it, that look I'd seen earlier, that promise of violence, of retribution, of revenge. I shouldn't have ignored it; I should've milked the bull when it was docile. I was in the throes of sadistic lust, emptying my balls into Sister Julia's convulsing asshole as she squealed her orgasm, when I saw the change move across her body. It started in her posture. She should've collapsed in exhaustion, but she didn't. Instead, she stretched into a languid arch, the echoes of ecstasy twitching up her spine, her body extending like a waking feline, like a lioness at dawn. Then, I heard it in her voice. She should've been heaving spent breaths, but she wasn't. Instead, I heard a low, soft chuckle, and I knew; I knew I should've milked the bull, because now, I was going to get the horn.

Sister Julia broke from her binds in flash of white, a sound like thunder ringing in my head as I was flung backward, my engorged cock pulling from her ruined gape as I landed on my back. Then, she was on me; hands prying my legs apart, hot flesh melding into me, hot breath on my lips, in my nostrils, a sardonic laugh in my ear.

"We had a deal, Night Eyes," Sister Julia chuckled. "Now it's time to hold up your end."

I dug two sets of fingernails into her back and raked, but Sister Julia only laughed again; a sweet sound, a motherly sound, a terrifying sound. She pressed her mouth to mine, opening my sealed lips, wrapping her tongue with mine, making me melt into her despite myself. I couldn't deny her, couldn't stop myself, couldn't stand fast in the fire of her passion. I opened my legs against my own will, my body betraying me, some dormant, weak part of me accepting my situation, some evolutionary echo that told me to submit to the alpha. I submitted. My deflated organ retreated within me to give the sister my femininity, but she just smiled around our sucking lips, and coerced me back out with her stroking hand, wanting to dominate me while I was male, wanting to show me that she was better than my strongest self. God, it turned me on. I grew hard in her hand, reached between us and spread my cheeks, arched my back and hummed my need, all despite myself. Take me, dominate me, humiliate me. Let me see your darkness. She pressed her tip against my virgin aperture, and pushed.

I gasped, gritting my teeth, letting go of my spread cheeks and sinking my nails into Sister Julia's back. She didn't punish me, or berate me, but whispered soft tones into my ear, petting my hair, wrapping her arm around my back and pressing out bodies closer together, holding me in a motherly hug. She rolled us into a sitting position, me straddled about her hips, my feet locked behind her ass as I sank slowly into her lap, my cock drooling down her stomach.

"Shhh, Night Eyes, shhh," she cooed like a comforting mother as she lowered me inch by inch, impaling me. "I'll make you feel good, don't worry. Open up to me, and relax; the pain only lasts for a moment."

I tried to wiggle out of it, tried to escape the pain as it pierced me, but Sister Julia countered my every attempt with firm tenderness, like I was child she needed to softly discipline. Her cock bulged in my virgin rectum, expanding me, touching parts of me that had never been touched, awakening dormant nerves I didn't know existed. God, the pain, but I couldn't resist, couldn't stop her from guiding me slowly downward, couldn't look away from those emerald eyes as their stared lovingly, dominatingly. That was her brand of power, to make me feel weak, helpless and needing for her affection. I hated how effective it was, how I wanted her maternal touch inside me, but I couldn't deny her; I couldn't deny myself. Inch by inch, I lowered myself, sliding down her shaft, penetrating myself, torturing myself for her pleasure, for the motherly approval that I disgustingly coveted.

"You're doing so well, Night Eyes," Sister Julia breathed on my lips, her own quirked in a patronizing smirk, "just a little bit more to go."

I didn't cry out, or scream. I did barely more than gasp as I filled myself with her, as I let go and eased the last of her inside me. A shudder ran through me, a wave of relief and exhaustion, of accomplishment, of pathetic gratitude. I couldn't stop the proud smile that crossed my lips, couldn't stop the giggle that flowed from it as I looked adoringly into Sister Julia's compassionate eyes.

"You did it," she grinned at me. "You're such a big girl."

"Fuck you, Sister," I moaned through my smile, shifting in her lap, feeling oddly like a daughter sitting in her father's.

"All your friends are watching, Night Eyes," Sister Julia grinned, "and they're all so proud of you."

Sister Julia rotated me about my penetrative axis, causing me to hiss as my ass stirred around her. They were all watching me, staring with wide eyes, paused in their lust to bear witness to something they'd never seen before; my defeat, my submission. I hated the looks they gave, the cracks in their perception of me. Mostly, I hated the looks in Astrid and Brandon's eyes.

"Don't look," I whispered to them, the words barely coming from me, "turn away."

"Why would they do that?" Sister Julia whispered as she began to thrust, as she began to stroke. "Don't you want them to see you like this?"

"Stop!" I breathed.

"You don't want me to stop," Sister Julia breathed into my ear as she softly raped me. She was right. I planted my feet onto the floor, feeling cold stone, feeling the connection, but I had no desire to fight. Instead, I pivoted my weight, and began grinding my hips, pushing my ass into her crotch with sinuous passes, my hands stabilizing me on her slowly-driving thighs, my lips breathing moans too faint to hear. Oh my god, the way she felt in my ass, the wrongness of it, the way it made me feel exposed, weak, at her mercy. The way she touched me from the inside, subdued me, hurt me, pleased me. The power she had over me, and the way she used it to make me feel so good, to make me feel things I didn't want to, to make me like the things I didn't want to like.

"Look at Brandon," Sister Julia hissed. "It's like he's seeing you for the first time."

"Please stop."

"Call to him. Tell him how I make you feel," Sister Julia kissed my neck as I rested my head on her shoulder, stretching my body, presenting it to her, begging her to run her hands over what I was giving her, over what she owned. She slid her hands along the flexing expanse of my curved abdomen, cupping my breasts, squeezing them. I whimpered. I whimpered my gratitude like a weeping whore, and I called to my boyfriend.

"Brandon!" I croaked. "She makes me feel so good!"

Brandon was staring fixedly at me, a look of astonishment in his eyes, slowly changing to avarice. He still fucked Tera, but he was looking at me, only me, as I twisted and writhed to the Heat Bringer's puppetry.

"He likes seeing you like this," Sister Julia giggled, pushed her cock with long, slow passes, making me feel every inch she had to offer, allowing my channel to relax before she mercilessly stuffed it again. "I take it you're not a generous lover? Relationships are all about give and take, Night Eyes; it's not a power game, not like what we have. What we have is special."

Brandon brought Tera against him, facing away like I was to Sister Julia. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded, a smile creasing her purple lips. She watched me closely as she repositioned herself, as she pulled him out of her cunt, squatted over him, and pushed her innards back inside with a low moan. She mimicked me, dancing a pathetic writhe as I did, mirroring my motions as Brandon watched me, only me, the avarice, the possessive desire, a look he'd never given me before.

"He never made you feel like this, did he?" Sister Julia chuckled.

"No," I confessed with a shudder, wrapping my hands together behind her head, twisting my hips, locked into her sensual domination, unable to free my mind or body, and slowly realizing I didn't want to. Her lust was inevitable, undeniable. Every pathetic attempt at escape was countered with a gentle pull here, a slow thrust there, bringing me back, making me feel sorry for even trying, thanking her for stopping me.

"Tell him," Sister Julia hissed, "tell him that I'm better."

"No."

"Say it!" she hissed, grabbing my hips and forcing me into her lap, forcing every inch of her inside, bulging in my rectum, squishing my prostate against my anal wall. She didn't even have to touch my cock, and yet I came. I came with a scream, trying to buck my hips, but I was held fast by Julia's embrace, the immobility somehow making the orgasm even better. I trembled from head to toe, my body rigid and plastered to Sister Julia, my teeth gritting through the intensity, my eyes rolling back as I choked on my ecstasy, as I showered myself with my own seed. It splattered my belly, breasts, face, and lips, and I licked it, reveling in my defilement, relishing the taste of me.

"She's better than you! You never made me feel this good!" I practically sobbed. She throbbed against my prostate, causing my cock to stay hard even as it pulsed and leaked, cum oozing from its tip like lava, my balls still quaking, the orgasm not ending. Oh, god... oh god! Brandon's jaw twitched as watched me come, his cock curving backward inside Tera's ruined purple gape, his eyes dancing with an arousal I'd never seen on him before. It seemed my boyfriend had something of a cuckhold fetish.

"Call for Astrid," Sister Julia commanded softly, "tell her to come here."

"Astrid!" I cried, sliding up and down Sister Julia's length, feeling myself open and constrict, feeling every change in girth as it ravaged me, as I willingly raped myself.

"Mistress?" Astrid called; her voice unsure.

"No, no, no," Sister Julia chuckled, "that won't do at all. Tell Astrid that when I'm inside you, you are no longer her mistress. You're her whore."

"Astrid!" I screamed. "When Sister Julia is inside me, I'm not your mistress; I'm your whore!"

Through blurred eyes I saw her walk over to me, her gait apprehensive at first, but then turning to a confident strut as she neared me, white wings spreading behind a tattooed beauty; the monster I had made. She knelt before me, studying me with curious eyes, running a hand along my shaft as it oozed the last of my cum from its tip. She took a drop on her finger, brought it to her mouth, and sucked it, her luscious lips pursing and creasing in a smile.

"Well, whore," she grinned, "I have needs that require attending."

She turned around, spread, and pushed her prolapse against my gaping lips. I wrapped them around her, and I sucked it, tasting the sweet tang of her, droning my hedonistic hunger as I rotated my mouth and pushed my tongue inside. Her glutes enveloped my face, her hands rested on my shoulders, and she moaned as I moaned, as I was trapped in the splendor of my humiliation, still grinding atop the woman defiling me, her hands gripping my breasts, her lips whispering loving hatred into my ear.

"I came here to kill you, Night Eyes, and that is what I am going to do," Sister Julia's words poured from her as I mindlessly sucked Astrid's insides. "You are the chain that holds my sister to Corruption, and I am going to break you. That's what you are to me, Willowbud; my sister. Different of blood but kindred of spirit, and you will only find love from me. But you, Night Eyes; you will only find death from me. When you are but embers in an ash pile, and the meld has snapped, there will be no 'you;' only Corruption without her shield. Can you hear me, most ancient one? The Destroyer has you cornered."

Sister Julia thrusted with more fervency now, moving in and out, in and out; exiting and entering me, letting my shithole close and then forcing me open, desecrating my depths, and repeating. Her breath was getting hot on my neck now, her heart fluttering against her breasts as they flattened to my back, her stomach twitching against the base of spine, layers of muscle away from where she was piercing me.

"Do you want to see a magic trick, Your Holiness?" I heard Lucilla's mocking voice. She made my cock disappear down her throat, and through gurgled tones I heard her say, "Ta-dah!" but I was too enamored with my captivity to care. I sucked Astrid and thrusted into Lucilla, my cock leaking once again, compelled to flow by the unyielding abuse of my anal organ, convulsing, spasming, reflecting the nature of my ruined rectum as every nerve began to electrify, burning their signals into my filthy depths. I screamed against Astrid's turned-out shithole, and the sound sung through her depths and from her mouth, carried by her own voice as she began to heave with her own ascension. I sunk my hands into the supple fat of her ass and spread wider, pushing my face deeper, my nostrils filled with the scent of her, my mouth sucking stupidly while my mind went blank. The feeling built, wound tighter, drove relentlessly to the greatest heights, and burst. I molded against Sister Julia, every part of me contouring to her form as ecstasy ravaged me, made a slave of my body, of my mind. She cried out when she filled me, her seed pouring its molten delight into my twitching channel, seeping warmth into my bowels. Astrid spurted her pleasure from her womanhood, leaking it down my chin as her convulsing rectum sucked back into her. Lucilla greedily slurped the few droplets I had left to give her, feeding from my member even when it deflated in exhaustion. Faintly, I could hear Tera and Brandon vocalizing their ascension in a chorus of escalating cries, but my mind was focused on only one person now.

Astrid lifted from my face, looking over her shoulder with terror in her eyes, realizing what she'd just done, but I barely registered that she was there. She hurriedly took Lucilla by the hand and pulled her away, hoping to escape before my wrath sought her out. There was no wrath in me, however. Only breath. One breath, then another, the gasps echoing in my mind, my ears seemingly closed from the world. One perfect breath, one perfect heartbeat, one perfect moment of bliss, enjoying my defeat more than I'd enjoyed any victory. I looked over my shoulder, and into the emerald eyes of the one who had who had owned me. There was only kindness there now, only affection and endearment. She cupped my cheek and ran a thumb over my dimple, over my lips, tracing their outline. Our faces met once again, but we didn't devour each other combatively. We kissed with love, with empathy, with an understanding only we knew. We were kindred spirits, we were sisters, we were broken women with blood on our hands. There was pain in Sister Julia, pain I understood, pain that had scarred to darkness. Now she tasted my darkness, and I tasted hers, and we both liked the flavor. Sister Julia kissed me like a lover, like a sister, and Corruption kissed her back through my lips. Oh, there was darkness in Sister Julia, there was evil. Sister Julia should've killed me when she had the chance, because now...

CORRUPTION

...she was mine.

ANGELA

"Oh my god," Justina said her voice quivering, "Julia is going to kill me!"

I might've shared in Justina's horror, were I not possessed with dumbfounded amazement. I lifted my hand, and there was no filter to delay the motion, no host acting as a barrier between the thought and the action. I lifted my hand, mine! I curled the fingers, and the tendons reacted without hesitation, the nerves signaling directly to me. I felt the bedding, Justina's flesh, the stiff air of the brothel, and it was only me feeling it, feeling it through no one else's thoughts, no one else's perception. These were my eyes, not lenses from which to watch, but eyes with which to see; to really see! I was alive. I. Was. Alive.