The Creators Ch. 08

"...maybe I should run away? Where would I go? Drastin is the only city that lets succubi work as prostitutes. Would Willowbud protect me? Could she? Maybe if we explain, maybe if we—"

"I'm alive!" I screamed, "I. Am. Alive!"

I bolted upright and wrapped my arms around Justina, pulling into her hug, feeling the unfiltered warmth of another for the first time in years. I bounded off the bed, and immediately collapsed. Bipedal motion hadn't been my mode of transportation for a long time, and standing was a foreign feeling. I scraped my knees on the floor, smacked my forehead on the dresser, and laughed as the pain came to me. Oh, sweet pain; sweet, wonderful pain! I got onto wobbly feet and shaking knees, letting old memories come back to me, learning to stand again, and then daring my first step. I. Was. Walking. I was walking, then I was strutting, then I was skipping, hopping, and dancing. I was all arms and legs, Diamond's natural grace not inherited by me, and I struck my elbows against corners and stubbed my toes, but I didn't give a shit. I felt the exhilarating beat of my heart, the sweet inhalation of air, the sting of sweat and the burning of muscle, and I loved it all. There were tears in my eyes, and I vaguely realized I was laughing manically, but I was too rapt with the euphoria to care. I danced, jumped, and sprinted back and forth until I thought my heart would give out, then dove with arms outstretched onto the bed, and sank into the comfort of blankets and pillows, my mind racing as I enjoyed the sweet relief of relaxation.

"You done?" Justina's voice came to me. "Because you know you can't keep that body, right?"

"Yes," I sighed into the bedding, "you party-pooper."

"Good," Justina sighed as I rolled over on my back, still smiling stupidly, "I was worried that you might never give it back."

"She's pawning it to me," I grinned. "If Diamond doesn't come back for it in a week, it's legally mine."

"If you survive a week," Justina scowled. I could only giggle. Death was no stranger to me. "We need to hide your eyes and voice," Justina said, getting up and rummaging through her drawer. "I have some cosmetic astral beings you can meld with. Hopefully that 'purple-ness' you described will keep Corruption from seeing you."

"Have you made any progress with Willowbud and Corruption?" I asked Justina as she handed me two gemstones. Her face turned red, and she bit her lip guiltily. "You haven't even been trying, have you?" I sat up, and narrowed my eyes. God, it felt good to narrow my eyes. I squinted at her just for the fun of it. Shame, you whore, SHAME! Squirm beneath the scorn of my narrowed eyes! Mwhahahahah!

"Willowbud's settled down since she and Brandon became a thing," Justina said, wringing her hands nervously as my eyes turned to slits, "and... well... what can I say, Angela; I'm a slut, OK? I can't control myself when penis is available, and I live in a fucking brothel! I don't have time do research when a new penis is always knocking at my door!"

Justina sighed, exasperated, and sat beside me on the bed, her shoulders slouched.

"I managed to get tomes from the library, and I found a few texts about Sorrow, and quite a few on Wrath, but nothing on Corruption. Most 'experts' don't even think Sentients are real, despite evidence to the contrary. It's just..." Justina trailed off as her eyes wandered to my lap. I cleared my throat nervously, and crossed one leg over the other. Having a penis was still very foreign to me. The rest of Diamond, I understood; even the antlers didn't feel that strange, but the penis was difficult to grapple with. It felt so out of place, so unwieldy, so... aggressive. There wasn't any bone, nor muscle, yet it was more than just the cartilage of the nose or ears. It was a nerve-swathed growth of blood and tissue, and now I understood why every man said their dick had mind of its own; this thing acted independently of me. It was an appendage I had no control over, and as it stiffened between the warmth of my pressing thighs, I realized that it had some control over me.

"Continue." I said to Justina, clearing my throat again (where had I picked up that affectation?). Justina gave me an inquisitive look, and then began speaking, but I wasn't listening. Did I just notice how pretty she was? I'd been in her head for weeks, I'd even eaten her out the first day we met, but had I ever seen her like... this? That black hair surrounding curved horns, those big eyes, that long neck, those small, but cute breasts, the little rolls of fat over her belly as she slouched, the way her butt protruded from her back, the way it creased down the middle just below her tail, shadowed, barely hiding the lewd options between her cheeks. Goddamn, I was practically stabbing myself. How did men live like this?

"...but I don't think Corruption responds to the physical pain of her host," Justina's voice droned back to focus. "I think an emotional strike is needed to dislodge her, but I don't know what. Astrid said guilt was what freed Willowbud from Corruption the first time, but there must be some mechanism within the brain that breaks the meld. Emotions are just chemical reactions, after all, so if we could find the right trigger... maybe a drug of some sort would work? Or a competing astral being? Angela?"

"Yes," I replied dumbly, and then before Justina could berate me, I added, "but we have more pressing matters. What am I going to do about Lucilla and Julia? I might look and sound like Diamond, but I don't exactly act like her."

"Yeah, that is a problem," Justina mused, tapping her chin. "Not to mention, you'll also have to have sex with them to keep up appearances."

"That's not going to happen."

"Why not?" Justina asked. "They're both beautiful, and if women aren't to your taste, Julia would be more than happy to give you some man."

"I'm a virgin," I said quietly, face growing red, "I never took control when you were fucking; I always just sat in the passenger seat."

"Well," Justina licked her lips, scooching over to me, "we can solve that problem right—"

"I'm saving myself for Brandon," I muttered. Justina stopped sharply, her eyes widening, her smile growing devilish. I pouted my lips as my face went even redder.

"After all that shit you gave me for fucking my mom," Justina hissed, grin broadening, "and I'm a succubus, Angela; I have an excuse. You're a human, well, now you're not, but—"

"I'm a Sentient," I interrupted, "and if I don't bind, I'll stay a Sentient. I don't know why I can't leave this body, but I know that if it dies, I won't die with it. Nothing's changed. I still have to do what I have to."

"Then why the embarrassment?" Justina sniggered, "Is it because now that you have a body, and all the needs that come with it, you realize that your nightly sessions of watching Brandon jerk it weren't just sisterly curiosity? Maybe, they were something..." Justina glanced at the boner I was vainly hiding between my thighs, "...more?"

"I forgot how much of a bitch you are," I grumbled. Justina laughed at that.

"Well, you certainly can't bind with Brandon while you're in Diamond's body," Justina said, "because than it really would become your body, and the Heat Bringer would be none-to-pleased that you just effectively killed her daughter. I also would be pretty pissed; I like Diamond." Justina chewed her lip as she looked me over. "I guess you'll have to just stay with me. Pretend you're Diamond, and that you've fallen madly in love with me. Julia and Lucilla couldn't deny your blossoming romance, and you'd have reason to always be with me, where your secrets are safe."

"Hmm..." I narrowed my eyes at Justina again (God, that's fun to do), "...I can't tell if you're being a good friend, or just fulfilling a fantasy. Exactly how much do you 'like' Diamond? Should I start shopping for a wedding dress?"

"I forgot how much of a bitch you are," Justina grumbled, and I grinned back.

LUCILLA

"I think I liked it better when they wanted to kill each other," I frowned over my shoulder. Julia's bathrobe was pulled to her hips, her face a portrait of contentment as Willowbud straddled her ass, pushing massaging thumbs into her welted back. They'd been hostile when they first met, then they'd fucked like they were trying to stab each other to death, and now they were... what? Friends? More? Go back to hating each other, damnit!

"I didn't peg you as the jealous type," Brandon said next to me on the balcony, struggling with a lighter as he tried to start a joint.

"I'd peg you if I didn't think you wanted Julia to do the honors," I grumbled. Brandon laughed at that. The balcony had once been a porch, I guessed, but now it overlooked a stunning view of Drastin. Below us, the street was packed with the tens of thousands, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the new gods.

"You know, I also wanted to kill Willowbud when I first met her," Brandon shrugged, "but then I stuck my dick inside her, and suddenly, she didn't seem so bad. I guess she just has that effect on people."

"You really are a dumbass," I said flatly. He just grinned back.

"Everyone keeps telling me that," he winked, "and yet, I somehow manage to get inside every single one of them. Hey Julia," he called over his shoulder, "you want to smell my knuckles? They smell like," he eyed me as he took a dramatic whiff, "royalty."

"Oh fuck you, peasant," I giggled as Julia laughed from her lounging position, Willowbud chuckling atop her. Brandon gave his lighter a few more frustrated flicks, then offered Julia a needful glance, and the roll ignited in his mouth. He grinned at me through a skunky cloud.

"How about that? The first joint project between the Heat Bringer and the Life Giver is literally, well..." he passed me the joint, and I took a deep inhale before hacking out a lung.

"Holy (cough) shit!" I sputtered. "What in the (cough) fuck did you..." I trailed off as the warm bliss gained purchase in my mind, and a goofy grin peeled across my face.

"It's my own strain," Brandon grinned, eyes redder than Julia's hair. "I've been perfecting it for weeks. This, Your Highness, will be my great legacy. Furok has the Garden Tower, Dawnbark has Arbortus, Rayson has the Walking Oasis, and I have this: Towerhead Chronic."

"Truly, your achievement dwarfs all that came before it," I said with a wheezy voice as I took another puff, "but why would you name anything after that shithole?"

"Why does everyone call it that?" Brandon sighed, shaking his head. "Don't they see the small-town charm?"

"It's a destitute shithole one drought away from being abandoned," I countered, passing the joint. "I felt like I was going to be raped or stabbed every time I crossed the one street there was."

"Ah, home sweet home," Brandon said unironically, cherry burning between his lips. He glanced over his arm of the couch, the edge of which was in line with a vertigo-inducing five-hundred-foot drop. He didn't seem to mind, but I was content with staying where I was, away from the precipice.

"They don't even know my name yet," he mused, looking at the crowd, "but they call for me. Why do they think that I want to be worshipped?"

"Do you want to be worshipped?" I asked, both to Brandon, and partly to myself. I'd been called 'Your Highness' or 'Your Grace' for most of my life, but I was always a royal afterthought, regulated to "managing" an estate; I'd been spoiled, but never revered. I didn't know how to feel about people worshipping me for being the 'Bound One.'

"I wouldn't mind them sending their virgin daughters up here," Brandon chuckled, easing back, "but I honestly hate the attention. I never was good with people." Brandon's bloodshot eyes grew distant for a moment, "I never had any friends in Towerhead; not real friends, anyway. I was clueless with women, bad at sports, and terrible at school, so I didn't even fit-in with the nerds. If I didn't have Angela, I would've had no one. God knows what would've happened if I never went to Tera's; I'd probably still be in my bed, jerking my frustration into a stiff sock."

"You have such a way with words," I swooned with a giggle. "How did the maidens of Towerhead ever resist you?" Brandon offered another retaliatory sniff of his knuckles, and I only giggled more. I liked him. He was as down to earth as he was salt of the earth, and had the potential for humble greatness; the perfect Life Giver, if there ever was one. He did have one glaring flaw, however.

"I guess opposites really do attract," I said carefully, "you and Willowbud are about as different as two people can be."

"So are you and Julia," Brandon countered. "Though, now that I've gotten to know her, I'm beginning to think the gulf between you two isn't as large as it seemed at first glance."

"It didn't used to be like that," I took the joint from Brandon's fingers. "I used to be the crazy one. Julia likes to pretend she's still an innocent, god-fearing nun, but she hasn't been that person since I stuck a finger up her ass." I laughed, but the mirth died to a frown, "Maybe the façade was always there," I muttered, more to myself than Brandon, "maybe I just missed it. She was quite the trouble-maker before she joined the convent." My frown deepened, "She was a murderer before I even knew her."

"To murderous girlfriends," Brandon toasted my lit joint with a freshly-rolled one, "may they always love us just enough to not kill us."

"Here, here!" I heard Willowbud chuckle. I frowned down at my feet, bare against the stone patio. How much could she hear?

"God, I can't wait to go to Arbortus," Brandon sighed. "Drastin just isn't for me; I need the fresh air to keep me sane. You know what? I'm going to go back to Towerhead when I'm old and wizened, and I'm going to turn that place around. I will plant vast fields of Towerhead Chronic, and make that 'shithole' the weed destination of Drastinar. I will grow a long beard, yes, and I will go bald, but I won't shave the stuff off the sides! No, I will grow it out long, and braid it around my shiny crown so that a bird will nest in it. I will wear a robe that constantly opens in the front no matter how tightly I tie the belt, so that any fortunate passerby may bear witness to my divine, sagging sack. I will live in a hut at the top of the hill, maybe a treehouse, actually, and then I will heal the afflicted for the price of one terrible pun. I will—"

"Holy shit, shut the fuck up!" Willowbud yelled from Julia's back.

"And you will be by my side," Brandon grinned, undeterred, "my little nymph wife skipping with me through the marijuana fields, with about three-dozen kids in tow because babe, we are going to be pumping, them, out! I want two baseball teams by the time I'm forty. I want so many of the little fuckers that we just start giving them numbers instead of names. I want—"

"A vasectomy," Willowbud replied, "because I'm not moving to the fucking country to become a breed mare while you get high with the forest critters."

"For a nymph, you really hate the outdoors," Brandon frowned. "Aren't you people supposed to be all about flowers and trees and shit? Don't you people worship the Life Giver? The way I see it, you should be on your knees and-ok-I'm-sorry-please-stop-ow!"

Brandon had visibly risen an inch off his seat, which I now realized was made of stone beneath the cushion, because of course it was.

"That counts!" he squeaked, a stupid, triumphant grin across reddening face. "We have a deal, and you just blew your wad! I get butt tonight!"

"Sister Julia took that deal off your plate," Willowbud smirked, "and after her, I'm afraid the best you can do is disappoint me." Willowbud's eyes drifted lazily to me, black orbs leering as she ran her hand down Julia's back. Were I not high as I kite, I might've bull-rushed the bitch.

"That may be the case," Brandon squeaked, "but Sister Julia won't toss your salad beforehand, and I will. I'll treat you like the queen of ass-now-please-get-this-fucking-rock-out-of-my-shitter!"

Willowbud stared at Brandon for a moment, her face pinched. Then it relaxed into an adoring smile, and I saw genuine love in her black pits. It looked more out of place than a priest in a brothel, but there it was, as clear as day: love. Brandon sighed as he was eased down, his red face lightening, returning to its beige hue. He matched Willowbud's affectionate gaze, took a deep rip of his joint, and said, "There's a fire ant colony in your hair," and Willowbud went screaming into the bathroom as she swatted at the hundreds of insects descending her scalp.

"Sometimes our relationship has its rough patches," Brandon sighed as the shower sounded, drowning-out the torrent of shrieks, "but damn, I really might love that woman."

"She's going to make you pay for that," I said, happy that Brandon did it, but concerned for him. He just grinned back at me.

"God, I hope so. You see, being in a relationship with a corrupted deity requires a certain amount of testicular fortitude. If you don't fight back, then you're just her slave."

"Slavery can be quite enjoyable, if you have the right master," I smirked at Brandon, glancing at his knuckles.

"What was it like?" Julia asked me, resting her head in her hands, her elbows on the carpet.

"Amazing." I grinned. "It was like being drunk with sex. I had no inhibitions, or limits, and even the pain felt like heaven. Tera and Astrid also taught me a few things that I would love to teach you tonight."

"Why would I learn from the novice, when the masters sleep two doors away?" Julia giggled. "I want to play with the gladiators too, you know. Maybe we should have a sleep over tonight."

"Look at you, taking the initiative," I praised, looking her over. "Not too long ago, I had to drag you kicking and screaming to have any kind of fun, now you want to start orgies all on your own?"

"Not too long ago, I thought holding hands was too lewd," Julia smiled, a little ruefully. "Now I have a lesbian girlfriend, an extra set of genitals, and a hermaphroditic daughter that I sleep with. Speaking of which, where is Diamond?"

"Still with her new succubus girlfriend," I crinkled my nose at Julia. "She missed all the fun! I wonder what they've been doing in there for so long? You don't think..." I donned an expression of parental concern, "...you don't think she's experimenting with monogamy, do you?"

Julia gasped with faux-mortification, "Good Mother! Monogamy?! Not while she's my daughter! I'm going in there right now to put an end to that!" she stood up, pulled off her bathrobe, and walked away, her perfect pale ass bulging with each sparkling cheek. She turned around, and gave Brandon and I a wicked grin. "It's just not natural," she giggled, then she rounded the corner.

"Holy shit," Brandon muttered, hard as a rock. We shared a look, and that was it.

TERA

"...I just think you should nip this in the bud, because you know it's going to be worse if you wait," I explained to Astrid, holding out the whip, nipple clamps, candles, and oversized butt plug. "If you take the initiative and beg for forgiveness now, then it will lessen the abuse later."

"But..." Astrid frowned, taking my box of goodies, "...but I like the abuse."

"Astrid, you called Willowbud a whore, and shoved your asshole into her mouth," I said frankly. "If you let her stew over it, she isn't going to tickle you; she's going to brand your ass with a hot iron. I'm trying to be your friend right now."

Astrid twisted her lips, and sighed. "You're right," she mumbled, going to her closet and getting her slave outfit, "I definitely crossed the line. Thank you, Tera."

We shared a parting kiss, I wished her good luck, then I pulled on the coat I hated so much, and went to fetch Lucilla. The princess had her middle finger up Brandon's ass, encouraging the thrusts he delivered between her spread legs, her supple body jiggling from her opened bathrobe as she lay on her back, squealing in delight. Both their eyes were redder than the devil's dick, and their gaping mouths were curled in goofy grins as they expelled their pleasure.