The Creators Ch. 15

"What a show," Gloria tittered from her chair.

"Eat my ass," I grumbled.

"If that is what you—"

"Go fuck yourself."

"With pleasure," Gloria cooed huskily, opened her pale thighs, and sank her fingers deep inside her hairless slit.

I whipped my head around with a snarl, stubbornly shut my eyes, and realized with despair that the image of Gloria's masturbation was burned right behind my eyelids. My erection pressed between my belly and the bedding, but I refused to touch it. After a few minutes of enduring her sonorous moaning, Gloria finally let out an orgasmic sigh. I kept my eyes fixed shut like a petulant child pretending to sleep, and tangled myself into the bedding until I couldn't move. Trapped in my self-made cocoon of celibacy, I found some measure of peace in the idea that I could not exacerbate my problem.

Gloria's heels clicked against the floorboards, and she strolled into my vision, now fully-clothed in her black robe. She knelt beside me so that her face rested on the bed, and she stared into my eyes. "Why do you punish yourself?" she asked.

"Maybe I just don't want to fuck you."

She grinned with her blood-red lips. "That would be a lie from anyone's mouth."

"What the fuck do you know?!"

"About you? Not much at all, but I've become very perceptive with people during my long time on this earth. Every predator makes a study on the behavior of its prey."

Gloria climbed onto the bed, and nestled herself next to me. I grumbled and rolled away from her in my snarled tube of bedding until I nearly toppled off the other side. Gloria persisted after me and snuggled against my back, trapping me between her body and the three-foot drop to the hard floor.

"No means no!" I growled.

"It always does at first, but I have a way of making it mean quite the opposite."

"Why are you trying so fucking hard?!"

"Because you need—"

"I DON'T NEED A FUCKING THING FROM YOU!" I shrieked. Outside, I heard the wings of a startled bat flap away from the roof, leaving only the echoing silence in my voice's wake.

Gloria nurtured the silence for a moment, then whispered, "I'm sorry, Willowbud. I... I misread you."

"And you said you knew everything about people," I hissed.

"It's easy to forget that you're not prey," Gloria said, and placed a gentle kiss against the nape of my neck. "You're not a wolf in sheep's clothing; you're a wolf with a sheep-complex."

"Stop trying to know me."

Gloria chuckled ruefully. "And that's the heart of it all, isn't it, Willowbud? Stop trying to know me. That right there is you at your very essence."

"Fuck you."

Gloria wrapped her arms around my blanket bundle, and scooped me into her embrace. I wiggled helplessly in my bondage of blankets, but surrendered with a whimper when the exhaustion took me. It always ended with a whimper. But Gloria didn't try anything. She didn't hold me down and take me like so many had before. She just ran her elegant fingers through my hair, and rocked me gently back and forth in her warm secure hold. Then, she began to sing. It wasn't in a language I understood, but its tenor was mournful and gentle, a feeling of loss tinging her voice. She had such a beautiful voice. It leaked into my ear, and calmed the maelstrom in my mind. Blissful darkness took me, and my sleep was blessedly dreamless.

THE HUNTRESS

I didn't have a name. My mother once gave me one, but it was in my infancy, and I had forgotten it. How long ago was that? I couldn't really know. I knew that I had been born into this world in agony, as all children are, and while my mother nurtured me to the best of her ability, she didn't offer me any kind of love. It was an important lesson for me to learn at a young age, but then again, I didn't know if I was yet removed from the ignorance of youth. Perhaps I was an old woman; I couldn't really say. Time was such a strange thing to me. Had I seen that moon before? It looked so familiar. I must've hunted beneath it a thousand times, swooping down through the trees, burying my fangs into flesh and sucking my victim dry. Mother had been more particular about her tastes, but Mother had been gone for such a long time. I didn't even remember her face. I just ate what was available to me. A huntress couldn't be too picky when the pickings were too few.

I gnawed on the neck of a fox, and stared up at the cold blue moon. It was the very depths of the night, and I was feeling my liveliest. My insides were crawling with hunger, but not just that of my belly. I needed to find a mate. I'd had many mates in the past. Tall, short, fat, skinny, hairy, bald. I'd even had women before. I ran my hand through the wisps atop my head, and felt the coarse flesh of my patchy pate. I plucked one of the few black strands left on my head, and frowned at it. I doubted any sane mate would ever desire me anymore. When did I lose my hair? Ages ago, probably. I must've been a very old woman, for my memory was awful, and the fractured remains of it were like a fever-dream of absurdity. The blessing of being a huntress was to simply be a beast of instinct. Anything but the eternal now was irrelevant. The wind was cool on my pallid flesh, the air was sensual through my wisps of black hair, the blood was hot in my mouth, and the hunger stirred in my nethers. These were the only things I needed to concern myself with.

"What do you think, Mrs. Fox?" I asked the dead shriveled ball of orange fur in my hands. "Shall I find myself a man?"

The fox, of course, did not answer.

"You found yourself a man," I muttered, and recommenced gnawing on her. "You had a whole litter of little suckling pups in that den. Don't worry; I left one alive. If he survives, then you're life was not in vain. If he dies, well..." I tossed her carcass to the ground. "...he was weak and didn't deserve to live, and removing your weak genes from the fox pool was a favor to the rest!"

The fox stared blankly up at me.

I sighed, and folded my arms in my lap. "That was all terribly callous of me, Mrs. Fox, I am sorry, but when you put your mind to eating babies, you basically have to go full-villain. I'm sure you understand, one predator to another. Speaking of which...." I glanced down at the little cottage at the edge of the forest, and frowned. That other predator was staring right at me. I didn't like her one bit. Mostly because she was infringing upon my territory, but also because she had captured a plump little treat and wouldn't share. The nymph was like veal; tender and succulent, too weak to even stand on her own two legs. Oh, she looked so scrumptious! But alas, the other predator always guarded her, and though I was immensely powerful, I could sense that she was even more so. This one was so dangerous that she wasn't even a predator anymore; just a carnivore raising her own livestock. I licked my lips and grinned. I guessed that made me the bad little fox ready to raid the chicken's coop. Any day now; the farmer couldn't watch her hen forever.

WILLOWBUD

The next morning, I awoke feeling lightheaded. Well, one of my heads felt light; the other was so full it was near to bursting. I managed to unroll myself from the blanket burrito I'd made, and my cock sprang up so fast that it slapped my belly hard enough to hurt.

"Good morning, Willowbud," Gloria called from her kitchenet, and glanced at me. "What a good morning indeed."

I grumbled, and tried to get out of bed on my own. No use. I needed to piss like a racehorse, but my masculine organ was only going to let one kind of fluid out of it this morning. With a low growl, I wrapped my clumsy fingers around my throbbing shaft, and began to masturbate once again. Gloria just smiled to herself, and turned back to the wood stove. She whistled and hummed, being overly casual as I awkwardly beat my meat. Goddamn, it was taking a long time. The need and the sensation were there, but the act was void of desire, and without that critical ingredient, I might as well have been stroking my foot.

I closed my eyes, and Astrid's face swam into view. She was as she had first been when I met her; innocent and brave, exuberant and brazenly curious. I remembered the way she blushed so furiously when I caught her masturbating in her winged-shell. She was so uncomfortable in that moment, but it was the wonderful kind of discomfort; that discomfort of growth and maturation into something beautiful. I remembered the way she cautiously mounted my face, and I remembered the way she tepidly lowered her pelvis until her succulent cheeks enveloped my world in sweet musky darkness. In truth, I had been nearly as scared as she had been. I was playing a character, an idea of Willowbud, a fantasy of what I wanted her to see me as. Anything but the weak little coward I truly was.

So I played the cool and collected douchebag, the mysterious woman with know-how and street-smarts, the levelheaded easy-goer who took everything in stride. Who the hell was I pretending to be? Night Eyes without the psychopathy. An idea of what I was supposed to be, but wasn't; an adult Willowbud. But that woman was a lie, for in truth, I was a broken little girl no older than six, and I carried the experiences and memories of another woman like baggage on my psyche. Only a woman as naïve as Astrid wouldn't be able to see through the thin veil of bullshit I wore. I should've let her go. I should never have tried to impress her. Why the hell didn't I just keep on going through the Gratoran Desert? Why the fuck did I change course to Tentigo?! Why did I think I deserved anything but hell?! That's all I've ever known! NOW SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF ME! WHY DID YOU TRY TO SAVE ME, ASTRID?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!

"...Willowbud!" someone screamed.

I opened my eyes, and realized I had been sobbing hysterically. Through my blurred vision, I made out Gloria's pallid profile hovering over me. I glanced down, and saw that my hand was still wrapped around my raging erection. "I need a cold bath," I mumbled.

When Gloria was done filling the tub, the steam from the water had fogged all the glass in the house. I frowned at her as she helped me to my feet, and I scowled all the way to the tub as I used her arm for support. Though the heat was heaven on my flesh, it did nothing to reduce the painful swelling in my loins. As Gloria moved behind me to wash my hair, I once again began the arduous process of trying to reach orgasm. I didn't even notice that Gloria had slipped into the tub behind me until a second pair of feet breached the surface on the outsides of mine.

"What the fuck did I—"

"Shhh," she whispered, and placed a gentle kiss upon the nape of my neck. "I'm not going to hurt you, Willowbud."

Her arms emerged from the suds around me, and carefully embraced me. I didn't protest. Her forearms came around me, lifting me slightly from the water, causing my small breasts to bob buoyantly from the surface, the domes soapy, the nipples so hard. She nestled me into her body, my head rested between her wet pillowing breasts, my back molded to her soft tummy, and my buttocks squished into her crotch. Gloria's fangs entered my neck, and though I felt the puncture deeply, there was no pain with her invasion. I only felt a pleasant weakness that slowly permeated outward from my poisoned chest, making my body even more gelatinous. My tired limbs and aching muscles succumbed so easily to the suffusion of our succulent forms, and I groaned in pathetic surrender as Gloria kissed me so delicately down my throat. My body was completely submerged between my nipples and feet, all save for one part of me that stood proudly from the water's surface like a defiant lighthouse in a flood.

"You don't want to feel my lust; that is fine," Gloria whispered in my ear. "I can offer you release beyond that of carnality."

"Stop!"

"Shhh, baby," Gloria cooed. "Don't think about me; I'm not here. I'm just hands and fingers."

Her hands slid down my belly, the fingers brushing my navel before caressing me along the converging lines of my pelvis. I twisted dispiritedly in the water, making one last vain attempt to show Gloria I was unwilling and not wanting. At least the former was true.

"I'm just a warm body and a gentle whisper, Willowbud," Gloria's musical voice dripped like poisoned honey, her lips forming the shape of my name so lushly against my receptive ear. "Melt into me."

One of her hands wrapped long elegant fingers around my throbbing shaft, and my entire being rushed to the point of such loving sensation. She caressed my raging column all the way to the tip, and then lingered there, kneading the spongey tender flesh with her thumb until it was red and swollen, and I was groaning with need. Her other hand slid past my shaft, and deftly scooped my floating balls into her palm to squeeze and roll them ever-so tenderly. I let out a defeated moan, and rested my head between her glistening wet breasts, encasing myself all the way to the ears in her pillowing warmth, muting the world with her steady heartbeat. She hummed musically as she began to stroke me, but I did not hear it from her mouth; I heard it resonating in her chest, and for some strange reason, that gave me comfort. That was all she gave me. Though our naked bodies were pressed together, and though she was caressing and squeezing my throbbing loins, there was nothing in our interaction that bespoke anything lustful. She doted upon me, groomed and cleaned me, encased me in her soft warm love and nurtured me with her hands. She was like a... a... a....

"I know what you're doing," I croaked.

"Shush, baby," Gloria muttered, and planted a placating kiss atop my head.

"Julia tried to psychoanalyze me for three days, and where did that get her?"

"I'm just giving you what you need."

"You don't know what I need!"

"Oh, but I do," Gloria crooned with a melodic chuckle, and recommenced her work on me. I watched with a strange detachment as her pale fingers milked me so tenderly, kneaded the taut flesh, massaged the thick ropes of cartilage that structured me. My head grew heavier, and I sank ever further into the deafening comfort of Gloria's bosom, deepening the trance as her venom took full effect. Her heart was beating a little faster now; a hint of excitement tinging her calming cadence. I could only blubber out some unintelligible plea, though for what, I did not know. The sounds that came from my lips weren't groans and moans, but whines and whimpers. I was a helpless babe in her arms, docile and supplicant, and my pleading tenors were no longer objections, but the goading squeaks of prey to cajole the predator. It was so natural for Willowbud—for me—to be so submissive. Submission was the only action I'd ever taken. Gloria collected the soapy film from the steaming water's surface, and used it to lubricate her sensual milking. The suds spilled from her grip, cascaded down my gleaming shaft in thick rivulets, sheening me in nectarous oils.

"You have such a pretty cock," Gloria whispered.

"Don't say that," I whimpered.

"Why not?" Gloria chuckled lowly in my ear, her beautiful voice echoing so sweetly into the annals of my mind. "A pretty cock like yours should never be cleaned by your hand. Your hands are rough and calloused, but mine are soft and pliant. I bathe in milk to keep my skin supple; can you feel it?"

"Fuck you!" I cried out.

"Oh, you have such need...." Gloria crooned with a smile against the top of my head. "A goddess should never have to fulfill her own need. In fact, it is selfish for her to do so. She should reward her worshipers by allowing them the privilege and pleasure of doing all that she desires." Gloria moaned lowly as she twisted her hand around my curved-back shaft. "Such pleasure I gain from pleasing you, Willowbud. There is nothing I won't do. Whatever your darkest desires are, I will gladly let you indulge upon them with my flesh."

"I just want to be left alone!" I blubbered.

Gloria tittered sweetly. "I'll do anything but that." The hand that cradled my rolling testicles extended a finger against my taint, and then slowly rubbed its way down.

"What are you doing?" I hissed.

"You know what I'm doing," she cooed back, amusement in her voice. "If you don't want me to do it, then I'll stop." Her finger paused, and caressed the length of taint, brushing against the coarse stubble that had grown since my last waxing. My anus relaxed upon its own accord, and Gloria chuckled when she felt the lassitude take my pelvic floor. "A woman after my own heart," she whispered, and pushed her finger into my ass.

I cried out in glee, enraptured by the exploratory digit that pushed through my sucking rim, opened my uncoiling rectum, and found the organ within. She pressed and rubbed it, her knuckles popping in and out of my winking aperture, never allowing it to relax about a constant girth. I writhed helplessly in her hold, my pathetic voice exalting from my lips as I stared down at my imprisoned cock, watching the shaft throb and pulsate in reaction to Gloria's wonderful torture. Water sloshed and spilled from the sides of the tub, and Gloria gently subdued me with her strong arms, sinking my body back below the sudsy surface, making me accept my imprisonment. With my resistance quelled, she went to work on me, numbing my mind with her venom, euphorically tormenting my sex, turning my body into fluid so that the knots in my back unwound, the sinew relaxed, and everything floated within me.

"You're prostate is so full," Gloria cooed with maternal concern. "God, it's near to bursting, Willowbud. I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must've been. I can't imagine how good this must feel."

"You have such long fingers," I moaned mindlessly, drool cascading from my lips.

Gloria chuckled, then retracted her stroking hand for only a moment before she slid it back over my shaft, covering just the head of my cock with a condom.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled, unsure if I was seeing things in my fugue state of lust.

"Waste naught, want naught," Gloria sung, and recommenced her draining of me.

Her strokes became more impassioned, squeezing me harder, pulling the tension up my curved shaft until it was at the precipice. Her finger rotated and stretched my gripping membranous sheath, twisting to open my sucking anus. Though my insides were a torrent of ecstasy, my body was enslaved by relaxation, unable to react to the sensations building beneath the flesh, paralyzed in the hot water and forced to endure the ecstatic torment. Gloria's breath became heated in my ear, each one punctuated with covetous little laughs and giggles as her excitement boiled over. She grinded her crotch against my ass beneath the water, and she wrapped her legs about mine, pulling my feet back, making me curve bodily so that my pelvis thrusted forth, exposed and open for her sensual onslaught. I could only cry out and blubber as she manipulated my body to her liking, playing my rectum like a puppeteer, milking my organ like I was naught but livestock with no say in the matter.

The pressure built within my loins, bubbling until I was sobbing in ecstasy, begging for mercy. The sensation suddenly erupted, lanced from my convulsing prostate and balls, and shot through my flexing cock until it burst from my head. Gloria let out a delighted cry, and writhed beneath me, rubbing her slick body against mine beneath the water, releasing her orgasm in a jet of hot fluid. My own tip expelled gouts of viscous nectar, filling the condom until it was overflowing with thick rivulets. Gloria made sure to collect my orgasmic milk in her palm, and then she stroked me with the hot lubrication, coercing every last volume from my loins until the finger prodding my anal organ had depressed noticeably with the emptiness therein.