The Creators Ch. 15

"Fuck..." I groaned, watching my cock deflate as Gloria extracted the condom. The moment the tension of my arousal left me, my packed-full bladder released, and a fountain of urine sprayed from my member and cascaded upon my belly and breasts. "Sorry," I muttered.

"Everyone pees in the tub," Gloria said, and began emptying her bladder between my legs beneath the water.

"I wasn't inviting you to join me, you fucking degenerate."

"It's my house, Willowbud, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let an ungrateful guest tell me I can't piss in my own bathtub," she giggled, and rested her chin atop my head. "The warmth feels nice, doesn't it?"

"It's going to get cold soon. We should get out."

"Stay a while. I quite enjoy the idea of our comingled urine soaking into our entwined flesh."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So very much," Gloria sighed, and held me against her, cuddling our melded bodies beneath the warming liquid. Truth be told, I kind of liked it too.

It was around midmorning when Gloria finished dressing me in one of her gowns. She didn't have any pants for me to wear, and she only had the one cloak for herself, but she had a full closet of extravagant eveningwear and bondage gear, and since I didn't feel like wearing leather chaps and a ball-gag, her silken gown would have to do. The bust size was several cups larger than my own, and the garment was meant to be form-fitting, which meant my tits were always exposed. Still, it was better than lying around naked all day just so that my libidinous hostess could eye-fuck me from every which angle.

"You know, you look even sexier in that outfit than with your clothes off," Gloria mused.

"Great..." I groaned.

"Come now, Willowbud, was I so bad?" she tittered. Gloria wasn't wearing her cloak, but she wouldn't let me have it, insisting that she needed it for... whatever fucking reason. She instead elected to walk about the cottage in fishnet stockings, leather boots, and a dress that looked like it was painted to her. I closed my eyes and purposefully pictured my mutilated mother just to kill the boner that was threatening me beneath the dress. When I opened them, Gloria was standing beside my bed with a plate full of eggs and a cup of tea.

I declined the eggs but begrudgingly accepted the tea, and began sipping as I eyed her suspiciously. She just smiled back at me, sat in the chair beside my bed, and began sipping from her own mug.

"You're going through your blood stores really fast," I said, glancing at the empty bottles above her sink.

"I'm a hungry girl."

"Those bottles were full just a few days ago."

She eyed me from above her mug. "What's your point?"

"Shouldn't you go out hunting?"

She smiled, exposing her fangs. "Trying to get me out of the house?"

"I could use some fucking alone time."

She shook her head.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because you're clinically suicidal, and I don't feel like coming home just to find you swinging from the rafters."

I snorted. "I'm too much of a coward to kill myself, Gloria."

"Cowardice has nothing to do with it; it's about pain tolerance, and you're in agony." She set her mug down on the table beside her. "I'm not leaving your side until you're better."

I rolled my eyes. "I couldn't even stand up long enough to get my neck through the noose anyway. I could probably strangle myself in this dress though."

"Or I could just choke you, if that's what you're into," Gloria grinned crookedly behind her mug.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "How old are you, exactly?"

She inclined her head, and shrugged. "I'm actually not quite sure what the exact number is. Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure you're old enough to be my great-great-great... you know, it might make more sense to put an exponent after the prefix 'great'... grandma."

"I didn't know a sloven street urchin knew mathematics."

"You're a fucking pedophile."

"You're over eighteen."

"It's the age difference, not the age. Find someone who was at least born in the same millennium, and fuck them instead."

"It would be pretty hard to find someone my own age. The only one I know is a gay dwarf, so that just leaves... ah, I see. You're telling me in a roundabout way to go fuck myself."

"Preferably where I don't have to watch."

Gloria giggled. "Do you know why I'm not out hunting right now, Willowbud?"

"Because you're not just annoying, but also lazy."

Gloria swirled her mug, and took an indulgent sip. She made a loud slurping noise, then withdrew her mug, and licked the milky glaze from her lips with a wicked grin.

"Good god, woman," I growled.

"I can't digest it as well as a succubus can, but it is much more nutritious than blood. Only a few ounces a day should tide me over. Most nymph males can only expel a tablespoon or less, but since you've got incubus blood in you—"

"No."

Gloria slurped loudly again, licked her lips, and winked at me. She pulled down her neckline, popped out her jiggling milky tits, then pulled on the nipples and moaned lecherously. My cock sprang to attention beneath my gown, creating a ludicrous tent in the silk. Gloria put her tits back into her dress, picked up her mug, and recommenced her meal as though nothing had happened. I glared at her from behind my skin-splitting erection.

"That was dirty pool, Gloria," I growled.

"You know me, Night Eyes. When did I ever play fair?" Her crimson eyes swam with amusement behind her mug. "You look like a little girl in that oversized dress. So fucking hot."

"Pedophile bitch."

"I never said I didn't like 'em young," Gloria snickered back. "Veal and lamb are just so much more... succulent." She upended her mug, then smacked her lips contentedly. "Now, you can either let my lunch stew in those balls of yours, or you can feed me brunch right now."

"You keep those sharp little fangs away from my dick!" I growled as she climbed onto the bed.

"If that's what you wish," she grinned, licking her impossibly lush red lips and continuing her journey between my legs.

"What did I just—"

"I'm not going to suck your cock, Willowbud," Gloria hissed, her pink tongue snaking out. "I believe you gave me a very specific request just yesterday."

"What the f... oh. Oh my..." I muttered. Gloria had slid her hands into my dress, taken two firm grips of my buttocks, and spread them wide so that she could push her tongue between them. Her red eyes twinkled with amusement as her plush ruby lips formed a seal around my anus, and sucked the puckered aperture into a swollen throbbing ring of sensation.

She had me bent over a minute later, sobbing delightedly into the pillow with my ass perched high above my shaking knees so that she could feed upon my vile hole. The cheeks of my rear consumed the cheeks of her face, and she kept her tongue pressed against my prostate as she reached between my quivering thighs to slowly milk my shaft like it was an udder. She injected her fangs into my swollen rim, and I cried out with the euphoria of it, feeling her venom seep deep into my rectum, turning everything to jelly, opening me, making me receptive for her heinous violation.

"I love it when you eat my little boy-pussy," I mumbled into the bedding, hoping she didn't hear such a pathetic confessional. She did, of course, and she rewarded my shameful admittance with an impassion anal kiss that ruined me. I let out a pathetic orgasmic whimper, and my rectum seized in ecstatic contractions around her tongue as the pleasure lanced through me. She collected the thick gouts of semen into a mug between my legs, then gently guided me down from my prostration.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I mumbled into the pillow. "How is this helping me at all?"

Gloria rested her head next to mine, her breath pungent with my flavor. "You enjoyed it quite a bit."

I snorted. "Do you have some kind of psycho-bitch fantasy about winning me over while I'm too weak to resist you?"

"I have no delusions about where we stand," Gloria snuggled next to me. "But I'd like you to like me."

"There are other ways to make friends."

She brushed my hair behind my horn, and smiled warmly at me. "Maybe someday we'll be friends, Willowbud; I'd like that. But I'm not trying to be your friend right now."

"You're trying to control me."

"I'm trying to heal you. Sometimes, healing hurts." She ran her cool palm upon my cheek, and contemplated my eyes. "Did Brandon ever tell you about me and Halok?"

"Who?"

"Don't concern yourself with it," Gloria frowned, the lines on her face becoming very clear for a moment. "I lost my love to the astral plane, and since then, I've made myself an expert on the mind. I know things that most people don't; things about the astral plane, and things about how our minds work. I've delved into some very dark arts to find these secrets. I developed a technique from that knowledge. It allows me to penetrate the mind of another, and guide their thoughts."

"Stay the fuck out of my head."

Gloria just smiled. "Brandon tried to resist me too, and he was much less helpless than you are now."

"What did you do to him?"

"I made him want to fuck his sister."

I burst into laughter. "What, as a joke?!"

"You know damn-well why."

"If sex was all it took to bind a god, I would've been claimed when I was six," I sneered at Gloria, and gained some measurement of satisfaction at her horrified face.

"Willowbud, I—"

"Don't tell me you're fucking sorry, Gloria," I snarled at her. "I never asked for anyone's apology."

She slid her fingers down my shoulder, took my hand in hers, and guided it to rest upon her cheek. "And I never ask for anyone's permission," she whispered, and sank her fangs into my wrist. The euphoric venom numbed the objection I had ready on my lips, and turned me once again into a ragdoll for her pleasure. She inched closer to me, moving until our brows were touching, and my entire field of vision was naught but the depthless red of her eyes. They were so beautiful. I was transfixed by the black centers of the ruby wells, staring as the irises seemed to shift like smokeless flames wreathed in blood.

"You're OK, Willowbud," Gloria whispered, and her soft voice seemed to come from inside my head. "Everything is fine. You have suffered so much, but it's all over now. Speak your scars to me, and I will heal them."

"You can't heal me, Gloria."

"Don't resist me."

"I'm not," I just smiled at her. "Maybe my mind's been shattered into a million pieces, but it also cast out Corruption twice. On the totem pole of manipulative cunts I've had to deal with, you rank very, very low."

Gloria sighed, and her eyes lost their depthless luster.

"What now?" I asked her.

She chewed on her lip, her fangs pressing into the ruby flesh. Finally she looked at me, and shrugged. "I could really use some fresh air, how about you?"

Gloria donned her veiled cloak, then let me use her as a crutch as we walked out into the morning light. The sun was concealed behind an overcast sky, which was likely why Gloria felt comfortable enough to walk in the open, but she still stayed clear of the vast open fields to our west, and elected to instead take a stroll in the snarled woodlands to our east. They looked like something out of a fairytale, though I knew it was just old-growth oak. Likely the only monster that inhabited this path of the wilds was the one I was using as a crutch. Come to think of it, Gloria was quite literally a horror from a children's tale. I glanced back at the cottage, and nearly laughed. It was without a doubt, the most ominous looking piece of architecture I'd ever seen. The chimney was twisted, the shingles were black and in disrepair, the grass was overgrown and the windows were all blacked out. A derelict barn stood behind it, nestled into the trees in such a way that it looked like the forest was consuming it. Its doors were ajar, its façade was black with rot, and the roof had a massive hole in it.

"You really cultivate a welcoming atmosphere," I sneered at her.

"I actually think it has a lot of charm."

"This looks like the kind of place that has meat-hooks hanging in the basement."

"I do have meat-hooks hanging in the basement, Willowbud," Gloria chuckled as we plodded along. "Stocking up for the winter means I have to section pieces off and dry the meat for jerky, though sometimes I'll just keep one of the elves alive and cut away fresh meat when I so desire it."

"You're joking, right?"

She just smiled, and continued down the path into the woods.

After only three paces, I lost my strength, and Gloria had to pick me up and hoist me upon her shoulder like I was a toddler. I was frustrated not to have made any progress from the last time I tried to walk, and I took out my frustration on Gloria's hair, making sure to take a firm grip of her black mane to keep balance like I was pulling on her reins, but she didn't mind. Without so much as a gimp in her step, Gloria walked along the treacherous path. I had to duck and dodge the hazardous branches that threatened to slice my face, and on more than one occasion, I got her dress snagged in a twig. These weren't the arboreal woodlands nymphs were used to, but a snarling mess of overgrown thorns and dense branches all creating a tunnel of wood about the path. It would be impossible for me to navigate the canopy with so many treacherous limbs ready to tear my flesh and entangle my clothes. Though it was summer, there wasn't a leaf on any of the trees, and the ground beneath us was of barren soil and garish fungus. The only signs of life I saw were a few rats scuttling in the underbrush, a toad splashing in a pool, and a pair of glowing red eyes burning from the shadows. I blinked, and the figure was gone.

"Something wrong, Willowbud?" Gloria asked me. "Your blood pressure and adrenaline just shot through the roof."

"You've got a neighbor, huh?" I gulped.

"What do you... oh, yes," Gloria stopped, and looked at where I had been looking. "She just moved in, actually."

"Is she... friendly?"

"Vampires are natural introverts; or did you think I live in a run-down cottage on the outskirts of a dead forest to start a bed and breakfast?" Gloria continued walking. "She won't bother us if that's what you're wondering."

Gloria continued her trek through the dense woodlands until we came upon a bog. There was a shack at very edge of it that looked like it was inhabited by at least one ghost, so that was of course where we went. I expected to see a shelf full of decapitated heads in jars, maybe a couple of rusty saws with blood crusted to the teeth and a bucket full of limbs, but I was instead greeted by a room filled with bioluminescent fungi.

"Psychedelics?" I mused.

"Some of them are," Gloria said, setting me down upon the head of a massive mushroom.

"Is this edible?" I asked, poking at the spongey head I'd made a bed of.

"Anything's edible once," Gloria chuckled sardonically, and made her way through the room. "What you're sitting on is a Corpseflower, so you can imagine what I used to grow it. It can be extracted for a painkiller stronger than opium with none of the narcotic or numbing effects. It just blocks pain." She frowned as she ran her eyes along the various shelves, each one containing some glowing mushroom. "The burns on your back were made by the Heat Bringer, and though they will scar, they will still pain you for the rest of your life." She crouched low, and inspected something at the bottom shelf. "If Brandon were still alive, perhaps he could've healed you, but without him, Corpseflower will have to suffice. I've been giving it to you since I brought you back."

I reached behind myself, and shuddered when my fingers caressed the scabbed flesh. The little droplet-shaped burns ran all the way down my spine, ending in the crescent symbol Julia had branded me with.

"I have some ointments that will accelerate the healing process," Gloria said, plucking a mushroom from the bottom shelf and examining it carefully, "but the scars will never fade. Do you know what this is?" she asked, holding up the blue-glowing mushroom.

"No."

"It's a very rare breed of fungus; extremely hard to cultivate," she turned it over in her hand, the blue light casting her eyes in violet. "I had to find a pregnant pixy, dissect it with a platinum knife, take out its living organs, and plant them in the soil with the connective tissue all still intact so that the organs worked properly even as she died. At the moment of her expiration, I had to push the spores into her belly without rupturing it, then leave her in darkness for an Orange-fanged Arachnid to lay eggs into her womb, and pray that the child within still lived. Then, I had to—"

"You can stop anytime now."

Gloria frowned at me. "The point is, this particular mushroom is exquisitely difficult to grow because it is extremely potent. Consuming this will take the user to the astral plane."

"Why the hell would you want to go there?"

"Someone needs to confirm that Corruption is dead," Gloria said. "If she is, then Drastin's sacrifice was worth it."

"Cool," I said. "Well, tell me how it is."

Gloria shook her head. "I would be lost up there. Your mind held Corruption, so you can follow her trail. How soon after she left you did Julia launch her fireball?"

"A few seconds."

"Then she couldn't have gotten very far before she was fried. You won't need to be up there for very long."

I glanced from the mushroom, to Gloria. "You want to do this now?!"

Gloria laughed. "Heavens, no! A trip to the astral plane from someone not tethered requires a very strong mind or it will break your psyche to pieces. You are in nowhere near the right mental condition!"

"I don't think I'll ever be in the right mental condition," I said soberly.

"As you are, probably not," Gloria said, and searched her shelf once more. "You've experienced intense trauma and lifelong suffering. Not only that, but you've been using a Sentient as a mental crutch for the most formative years of your development. It's actually quite amazing that you're as sane as you are. Contrary to popular wisdom, what doesn't kill us actually does not make us stronger—it generally leaves us crippled and broken forever. Fortunately," she said, selecting another glowing mushroom from the middle shelf, "the brain isn't so complex that it is beyond understanding. Mental illness is just that; an illness, and it can be cured. Your brain is laden with crippling depression, and all that means is an idea or set of ideas is causing your cerebellum to misfire. We just need to remake those connections."

"...with mushrooms."

"What do you think is occurring in your mind when you take psychedelics? Your framework is being rewired and rerouted. New pathways are formed, and old connections are severed. With a mind as old as mine, it's often necessary to..." she rolled her finger beside her temple, "...mix things up a bit."

"I'd rather fucking not, thank you."

Gloria eyed me. "You scream in your sleep, you know."

"And I'm sure psychoactive drugs will make the terrors so much better."

"If you never confront your demons, they will forever gatekeep your future," Gloria said, placing the mushrooms in her pouch and scooping me into her arms. "You will grow older, but you won't grow up. You will stay exactly as you are; this scared little girl that you pretend so much not to be."

"Fuck you."

"You can fake it until you make it in a lot of things, Willowbud, but not with yourself. At some point, you're going to have to stop pretending to be Night Eyes, and just be you. It all stems from your relationship with your mother—"

"I really wish people would stop trying to be my fucking therapist!"