The Creators Ch. 16

She let the rib drop from between her fingers. "We never knew when the war was over. The days blurred together until we came out of the other side. There was no one there waiting for us. Just a few dozen tents and some spoiled food carts. I remember the way the wind whistled over the desert, playing with the golden dunes, washing away any footprints that might've been there. It was like we'd been fighting a ghost."

A tear ran down her cheek, and she wiped it neatly away. "There was one man we found. An old orc, chopped to pieces, guts hanging out. His eyes were so red it looked like they were bleeding. He was the carrier of Wrath. I had my doubts, you know, about what Sentients were. I couldn't believe that Halok could become... that. But that old orc, whoever he was, he just kept trying to stab me with the sharp end of his snapped-off arm. When I looked into his eyes, I knew that there was nothing behind them that belied humanity. There was just madness." She looked up at me, "This time, no one is going to hold the line—not against her. When the orcs sweep through that pass, they will wash over Balamora like a surging tide, and there will be nothing left standing. Their hatred runs deep, and their memory is long, but they won't fight for restitution or reclamation. The legacy of Furok, Droktin, Gratora, and Hektin is gone, and these children they've left behind only know savagery. They will burn it all down unless someone stops them."

"I know what I have to do, Gloria. You don't have to keep trying to convince me."

"I'm trying to remind you. Convincing takes one word; conviction takes a lot more than that."

"If she said she'd do it, then she'll do it," Astrid said firmly and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

Gloria smiled thinly at Astrid. "As long as you will, she will."

TERA

It was dusk when the procession halted. Julia lit a great black fire in the bowl of a large dune, painting the world in violent hues of white and black. She summoned the white-robed Breytans, and they dutifully flocked to her side and watched me with unmasked contempt in their eyes. That contempt turned to horror when I snapped my fingers, and the winged women were hauled out from the audience. They dragged their iron balls behind them, leaving deep grooves in the sand. They had been stripped of their red robes, and only wore the metal collars, cuffs, and shackles that bound them to their burdens.

Valkyries were strong. The iron balls had to weigh in excess of a thousand pounds to burden them sufficiently, but still, they dragged the great black weights toward their daughters. Only it wasn't to their daughters they went, for I had tormented these women for hours in advance of this ceremony, and what drove them to drag their great burdens was the row of naked stud-bull orcs that had stepped between them and their daughters. When they could no longer walk, they crawled in the sand, and their daughters gaped as they watched their uncaring mothers thrash like desperate animals to get to the organs they so craved. When they finally reached their men, they had devolved into such states of depravity that they took the organs deep into their gullets without even pausing to catch their spent breath.

Never had I seen my venom work to such great effect. The impure valkyries worshipped the men they pleasured, some of them weeping with joy as they licked the shafts, cradled the balls, and consumed with relish. With a snap of my whip, the rows of men proffered the keys I had given them and detached the iron balls from the women's chains. Still wearing the iron clasps of their slavery, the mature winged warriors of Breyta willingly got to their feet and exchanged lips and tongues with their partners. The men grasped them by the waist per my instruction and turned the valkyries around.

Before the bulging eyes of their daughters, every impure woman willingly spread her legs, grasped her cheeks, and peeled open her crack for the throbbing organs beneath them. The looks of utter shame that the women wore were portraits of art to me, and the comingled expression of whorish surrender that crossed their faces when they were anally penetrated was even greater. One by one, the women opened their sinful apertures around the immense rods that threatened to impale them, and one by one, they willingly slid the men deeper, deeper, deeper. I could see the pain contort their faces, but the pleasure was too great, and my venom confused pain and pleasure to the point that they sought both. They took them all the way, crying out and singing to the sky, the monochrome flame painting their faces in stark contrasts, showing the euphoric lines about their smiling lips and bulging eyes, showing the light of pride die in their succumbing gazes.

It was only then that I dared to turn around and grin at Aiko. Tears were running down her face, but she kept her lip stiff as she watched her mother being ravaged. Aiko finally turned those beautiful almond-shaped eyes on me, and I saw what I was looking for. Oh, such hatred. The expression made me so lusty that I nearly joined the women before me, but I stayed my compunctions. I had to show Julia that this wasn't about me, even though it most certainly was. All of this rape and torture had to at least appear to be ceremonial, and I had to seem like just another servant of the Holy Mother performing her stoic duties. But Julia could not hide the erection that quivered between her legs, nor could she conceal the way her eyes darted to me from across the fire. I just smiled at her. She would come crawling to me tonight, and in a worse condition than these whores had been dragging their iron balls. I turned my gaze from her to the woman standing at her side. Jade Tao watched me with her dead implacable eyes. I shivered and looked away.

JULIA

I was quivering from head to toe when I walked up the steps to Sister Tera's wagon, Jade following dutifully behind me. The orcs guarding Sister Tera's door bowed their heads and blessed me, but I hardly noticed them. The steps creaked beneath my feet as I ascended, and I raised my shaking fist to knock on the door. I waited. She always made me wait. For tortuous seconds, I simply stared fixedly upon the cracked wood of the door. Though I was cloaked and hooded, I could still feel all the eyes around me as though they could see through the fabric. I felt their questioning looks; I heard their accusing thoughts. Sinner. Hypocrite. False prophet. I needed to be cleansed! Oh god, why did she make me wait so long?!

The door creaked open. I was greeted by a pair of smirking black eyes, the violet irises laughing at me, the heavy lids beckoning me in. The room was smoky and rank with indulgent sin. It was the kind of room I would've sprinted right out of when I was a nun. Pillows lined the walls, cushions covered the floor, satin sheets and velvet drapes adorned every hard surface. An opium pipe burned in the corner, incense burned in the window, and a cigarette burned from a long holder plucked delicately between her lush purple lips. There were two pairs of shackles on the floor. They were hard and rusted, the metal crude and jaggedly cut, the chains thick and coarse. My knees trembled at the sight.

"Wrists and ankles together, Sister," Sister Tera said softly, thick smoke cascading from her lips. She was wearing one of the white pure priestess's robes, but she'd mangled it for her blasphemous tastes. The white cloth was bound in black leather straps, and she'd cut the fabric for her breasts, midriff, and buttocks to protrude, making a mockery of my piety. She'd donned a nun's headpiece but had poked holes in it so that her horns showed from the top. Perhaps it would've driven me to rage outside of this wagon, but within this wagon, there was only one voice for the Holy Mother. In this wagon, the queen of sin was the priestess, and I was the unwashed whore needing to be cleansed from the inside out. I dropped to my hands and knees, and shackled the abrasive cuffs to my wrists and ankles, binding me leg-to-arm so that when I knelt, my hands were brought behind me.

"Bless me, Sister, for I have sinned upon this day," I whispered up to her.

Sister Tera selected a dagger from her belt and eyed the keen blade. "Confess your sins, Sister," she said softly. So softly.

"I lusted for a man," I whispered.

"You wanted to sodomize him?"

"At first, yes," I muttered, "but the more I watched him, the more I wanted him... as a woman."

Sister Tera crouched before me and touched the point of the blade to my throat. "Tell me very specifically what you wanted him to do to you," she said, her voice sonorous and calming, so disarming that it made my shoulders ease back, presenting my chest.

"I wanted him in my anus," I shuddered when the point of her blade dragged gingerly down my collar. "It is disgusting to garner pleasure from such a place, but it is my weakness. But I am weak in other places, Sister. In my fantasy, he brutalized me from behind, ramming his phallus into my rectum until I was blubbering like some animal, but then he became tender with me. He picked me up off the ground, laid me on a bed, extracted himself from my filth, and entered my sanctity."

"That almost sounds romantic, Sister Julia," Sister Tera mused, letting the point of the knife slide easily down my left breast.

"It was," I gasped. "What does it mean? What wisdom does the Holy Mother give you?"

Sister Tera drew the knife to my areola and stayed there. She slowly circled my taut moist nipple, and gradually applied more pressure. So expert she was, that I did not even feel the slice into my flesh. I only felt the wonderful intensity of the point until it cut seamlessly into my dark areola, and a droplet of blood rolled down the bottom of my milky breast and splashed between my thighs.

"You miss Diamond," Sister Tera finally said, but I was so drunk with the sharp focus of her pain that I hardly understood the words she said.

"Yes," I muttered when my thoughts aligned themselves.

Sister Tera slid her knife along the black patterns that swirled my nipple, drawing the point precisely so that it cut only through the surface. She was a surgeon with that knife, an artist with it, and the entire focus of my being followed the edge of her blade as it delivered such an exquisite form of pain. It wasn't even really pain at all; it was... a heightening of sensation. I wasn't even breathing. I was just staring into her eyes as she watched her artistry with fascination, painting me with my own blood, opening me with barely a graze. My organ was engorged and throbbing; my womanhood was pulsing and salivating; my anus was winking and flexing. My sexuality was laid bare before her, and when her cruel black eyes finally connected with mine, I saw my enraptured and supplicant expression reflected in her lenses.

"You have more sins to confess to me, Sister," she sang with her honeyed voice.

"I have none," I murmured back, possessed of her.

"Oh, but you do," she hissed, and flicked the knife away from my flesh, "and I will peel them out of you." She slid the knife back into its scabbard and proffered an iron collar with her hooked hand. A heavy chain trailed from it, and she made a show of wrapping her hand in the links and pulling it taut before my eyes. "Woof-woof, doggy," she grinned. I bowed my head and sobbed.

She clasped the collar around my neck, so large was it that it touched me from collar to chin, holding my posture rigid. She stroked my hair like the good doggy I was, and I whimpered like a guilty pup and nuzzled my face into her crotch. My teeth gently bit into the damp fabric of her panties, and I slid them aside, dipped my nose and mouth into the heavenly miasma between her legs, and wetted my snout with her nectar. She purred as my tongue dutifully lathered her folds, and she eased back on the cushions to let me please her. She wrapped more and more links around her hooked hand and she drew me ever deeper between her thighs, pressing my muzzle into her slit until the lips gripped me. With each of my dutiful licks, she stroked me along the spine, raking her sharp fingernails so pleasantly, so possessively, down my backside. I had to inhale the pungent aroma of her femininity just to breathe, and it saturated my sinuses with its intoxicating odor, driving me mad, making me consume with boorish relish until I was lapping her pussy like a dog, slobbering through her folds, consuming her slit, smooshing my face deeper to deliver my lips and tongue until she went rigid with a gasp. Her orgasms were so subtle. I could feel the immense pleasure teeming through her, but she always maintained control over herself, and so she maintained power over me.

"Dinner time's over, little doggy," she said huskily and pulled me up sharply by the leash, making me squeak out a choke. "Confess to me, you mangy mutt."

"I like watching women get raped," I choked out, my eyes bulging.

"I know; that's why I put on such a show for you tonight," she tenderly stroked my face. "You don't care if it's divine justice, do you? You just want to see whores get put in their place."

"Yes!"

"No," she giggled teasingly, "no, no, no, because if that were true, then why would you be so aroused to see your disciplined, loyal, prim, and proper samurai women get fucked into slovenly sluts, hmm?" She asked with a raised brow. "Your encampment is filled with whores, Sister Julia. Even with the crescent burned between their brows, they sell their bodies in thousands of wagons every day, yet so few of them are punished. Why is it that you hurt those that are the most loyal to you?"

"Because my priestesses should be held to a higher standard!" I croaked, savoring every second of my strangulation.

Sister Tera touched her brow to mine, and stared deeply into my eyes, her violet irises swimming with amusement. "You just want to watch someone's innocence get raped away. I get it. I love it too. There's nothing quite like watching one of god's pure children get fucked until their mind breaks!"

She tossed me backward, and with my wrists bound to my ankles, there was nothing to stop my momentum from carrying me end-over-end. She stopped my roll with a jerk on my chain, holding me so that my buttocks were pointed to the ceiling, and my rigid cock was pointing accusingly down at my upturned face. Sister Tera examined my predicament and grinned evilly. She tightened the leash, grabbed my cock, and tightly wrapped the heavy chains around my manhood, circling to the base until all but the purple bulging head was visible. My back already ached from the position I was forced into, but I dared not stretch it now. I could only whimper up at Sister Tera with my eyes full of surrender, and plead for mercy I knew would never come.

"Oh, how I love it when a guilty dog begs," she chuckled evilly and slid her hands along the domes of my spread buttocks. She pressed her thumb and hook along either side of my favorite hole, and stretched my rim open. Her long reptilian tongue came out, and circumnavigated my coiled center, loosening the taut resistance, opening me, making me whine and whimper with need until my pelvic floor was popping with my sporadic clenches. "You are so, so desperate..." she crooned around a wicked smile, "...oh, so, so, needy, aren't you, doggy? Will you woof for me, little puppy? Woof-woof?"

"Woof-woof!" I wailed, and Sister Tera cackled with delight, pinched her fingers together, and with naught but the spit she'd lathered me with, she pushed into my anus. I cried out in abject delight. Deeper and deeper she went, her fist disappearing inside of me, stretching my hole with her knuckles, popping each one in until I was clinging around the torturous girth of her hand. She held me there, keeping me stuck between heaven and hell, making me weep for pain and pleasure until she finally pushed through. Her hand squished through my clenching innards, her knuckles scored along my thin rectal flesh, and her fingertips opened my sphincters until they found the filthy heat deep within me. She twisted and turned inside of me, her malevolent gaze cast down upon me, and she made my hips move with the motions of her hands, sending me screaming in ecstasy as she passed along my tortured prostate. I was coming. The pleasure lanced through my loins, shot up my shaft, and slowly dribbled to a viscous halt within my constricted pipe. Sperm bubbled from the swollen tip of my cock, and a single droplet splashed onto my lips.

"Please, Sister!" I whined desperately.

"Please... what?" she giggled. "Please let you come all over your own face?"

"Yes!"

"I want to hear you say it, Sister!"

"Please let me come all over my face!" I bawled.

"Mmmm..." Sister Tera pondered me for a moment, then said, "...no," with a giggle, and pushed my crotch forward. My back screamed in pain, my mouth opened to sound it, and the head of my own cock pressed against my lips. The muscles on my back strained, my hamstrings tightened, my eyes shot to hers, wide and trembling, begging her not to make me do what she was going to. She savored my pathetic expression, unwound the chain that constricted my shaft, and mercilessly pressed me forward. My objections were muffled as my own cock opened my lips, drooling my own filthy cream onto my tongue, touching the insides of my cheeks, stretching my mouth open to wrap around its girth. Sister Tera eased me ever forward, heedless of my protests, grinning sardonically with her malevolent eyes dancing in the candlelight.

My breasts squished against my chin, my belly folded in rolls of fat, and my penis reamed the opening of my throat. From such an angle, I could see Sister Tera's wrist being consumed by my taut white anus, stretching so terribly to accommodate her. The horrific sight aroused me, the sensations aroused me further, and the very idea of my terrible debasement aroused me even more. Forced to suck my own cock, twisted in a pretzel of bondage so that my grotesque shitting hole was presented to me as it birthed and enveloped Sister Tera's thrusting fist. It was what I deserved. After a day of piety, I had earned this abhorrent sin, this indulgence in my terrible truth.

"God, this is beautiful," Sister Tera whispered heatedly as she pressed hard against my prostate, expelling thick gouts of precum onto my tongue that dribbled down my opened throat. She ran the dull petal point of her hooked hand over my taped nethers, sliding it back and forth through the damp membrane until the tape was so wet that all my vaginal features were easily discerned. I could do nothing to stop her, and I didn't want to anyway. With a hedonistic moan, I rolled my eyes back and surrendered everything. I savored the way my cock tasted, and I relished the way my mouth felt. I sucked my own cock as Sister Tera ravaged me from within; pressing and prodding, rubbing and kneading, squishing my anal clit until ecstasy was lancing up my shaft, and bursting from my tip.

"Don't you dare swallow!" Sister Tera snarled, milking my convulsing prostate fiercely, hovering over me with her teeth bared as I sobbed, mewled, and sputtered. Tears of shame ran down my cheeks, and the shame only elevated my euphoria, turning my brutalized nethers into a gelatinous sponge for her fingers to squish into. I filled my mouth with my nectar, and I hated and loved the taste of it. When Sister Tera was satisfied with my humiliation, she lowered my pelvis, hooked her metal hook through my leash, and brought me to her lips. She fed from me with gluttonous avarice, and I kissed her with compassion, giving her everything, enjoying every flick of her tongue and press of her moist lips until my mouth was empty.

"Have I been cleansed, Sister?" I whispered upon her lips when we parted.