The Creators Ch. 16

She smiled cruelly at me. "Not even close."

She was very cruel to me that night. So horribly, wonderfully, cruel. Once my anus was sufficiently stretched by her fist, she invited a dozen of her slaves in to punish me. Bound as I was, and helpless to her sensual mastery over me, I could only pray that the blindfolds they wore obscured their vision well enough. I was put into stockades, and fucked from behind, one man after the other pounding into my rectum, bringing me to violent orgasm as they hollowed my tender innards and deposited their seed into me. Only the first man used lubrication. All others afterward used the hot milk of the man previous to grease his violation of me, pounding the slick nectar into a foamy froth that dribbled down my taint. There, the piece of tape with the crescent symbol drawn over it barely held my chastity, and Sister Tera tempted me tortuously with her skilled fingers caressing the sopping fabric.

After the fifth man was done with me, my legs were quivering so terribly that I couldn't stand upright. After the sixth man, my legs gave out. Sister Tera had to release me from the contraption, and shackle my wrists and ankles together again. In such a position, it was easy for her men to pass me around in a circle, bouncing me off their crotches as I screamed and sobbed, my cock spewing sperm into Sister Tera's awaiting mouth as she relentlessly tortured my pussy. By the time they were done with me, my anus was prolapsed and would not close, and nectar leaked continuously down my trembling thighs. Sister Tera planted her face between my cheeks and drank from my reservoir.

"Shit it all out, you slut," she whispered so tenderly, "give me what I'm owed."

Though the orcs that surrounded me were blindfolded, they could still hear the wretched sounds of my ass sputtering, squelching, and farting to expel the thick volumes of cum into my priestess's mouth. It aroused me terribly to be so debased. I reached back and spread myself to give her easier access, and though I wailed and sobbed at my humiliation, I enjoyed every second of it until the last gout was shot from my rectum. Sister Tera never stopped caressing my pussy, and the tape had become so damp that it was suffused to my flesh.

"Now, Sister, you are clean," Sister Tera whispered, in my ear, and kissed me, making me taste the decadence of my own filth. Her disciples left the wagon, and I lay exhausted in the damp cushions, now rank with my lust. Sister Tera gently undid the shackles of my wrists and ankles and guided me with hook and hand to grasp her about the waist. She took me into her sucking purple anus, and rode me into the late hours of the night, sating herself with the last droplets of my sin until she collapsed beside me, and bid me to leave.

I had to crawl out of the wagon, for my legs had no strength in them. My cloak dragged on the sand, and I eventually discarded it completely. There was nothing to be ashamed of anymore; my sin was gone. I crawled to the front of the caravan, where Jade was waiting for me. She bowed her head as I crawled past her, and I blessed her. The sand was cool upon my flesh when I snuggled into it, and I sighed contentedly to feel its abrasion against my soft skin. I lit a protective orb around me, extending the fire so that it did not melt the bed of sand I made, and I let the tides of exhaustion take me to slumber.

Late in the night, I awoke. At first, I thought I had become a victim of incontinence, but the water that pooled around me was not warm. It was cool and salty, yet the sea was hundreds of miles away. I smiled and looked up. Through my dome of flame, a pair of black and green eyes was staring at me from above a childish grin. I knew she would return. She stepped through the fire, and without a word, she dropped to the sand beside me and snuggled into my embrace.

Interlude One: Wrath

CORRUPTION

I pushed my hand into the astral soil and fished around in the dirt. My hand came upon a stone, and I pulled it out. The rock was pleasurably coarse against my palm, and I enjoyed the rough grain of it as I took its measure. This was not a real rock, and yet, it was more than just the idea of one; it was the understanding of a rock. Wisdom would've had to create a thousand trees of knowledge just to capture the surface complexity of this thing, but I knew it intimately for all its wonderful simplicity. Petranumen had been an Earth Former—the very first, actually—and she was the sentient embodiment of rock. She understood it because she was it. I turned the rock over in my hand, and by my will, it took the shape of a lamb, then a panther, then a whale. I formed a rake from it, then a shovel, returned it to the form it was most comfortable in, and set it in my carrying pouch. I ran my hand through my black hair and looked out at the vast calm waters. The stone paths branched from the water to show me the scope of the work yet to be done, and the lone mountain pointed to the starlit sky above, seeming to signal the heavens to me.

"Wrath," I muttered. The sky rotated upon the axis of the mountain peak until a deep red star settled above it. All the stone paths sank back into the water, but one remained. I took a steeling breath and reassured myself of my omnipotence and my purpose. I stepped into the water. Diamond appeared in her center. She was already crouched in a sprinter's position. She shot from her stance like an arrow and made a beeline for the iron box. Xaya yawned from her perch on a cliffside, stretched like a basking lioness, then launched. She tackled Diamond in a cloud of dust, and Diamond's shriek of frustration sounded from the underbrush.

"Get out of my head!" she screamed at me. "I hate you! I hate you—" and her voice was cut off.

"I love you," I whispered back, and wiped a tear from my cheek. I turned back toward the reflecting pool and stepped through the threshold.

I passed other realms on my way to Wrath. Justice's wall was built of limestone with trimmed hedges lining the balconies and alcoves. Confidence had built his walls with garish flowers that created daring works of art. Honor had built her wall with proud grey stone and had filled her ramparts with stoic oak trees that wound together in a knotwork of wood. Right next to Honor, was Wrath. It was the smallest realm I had seen thus far, but what it lacked in size, it made up for in sheer intimidation. The black iron walls stood a mile high, the towers barbed with jagged hooks that seemed to stab at the sky, the ramparts filed to points. Enormous ballistae lined the top of the wall, but from such a great distance, they could only be discerned by their black gleam in the astral sun. The shadow of the wall darkened me, and its blackness became complete behind the dim solar luminance. The gate was wrought iron and imposing, flanked by soldiers that stared down at me with enraged snarls. I touched the handle. A deep boom sounded in the distance. I closed my eyes, took a long deep breath, and I opened the gate.

Wrath's world was one of contrast. The shadows didn't form a gradient but were immediately black beyond the garish red luminance of the astral sun. The only color here was red, and everything else was a monochrome of that hue, moving from white to black. The landscape was of dramatic rolling hills, all of them festooned with black iron fortresses that seemed to be tossed haphazardly upon the earth, for they did not stand upright. Countless statues of warriors littered the hillsides, all of them engaged in a still and silent battle. I stepped inside.

My foot touched the soil, but it wasn't soil at all. It was empty and void of nutrients, and it sank beneath my foot with a dry crack. No life flowed from the soles of my feet. No Corruption grew to uncage this mind. I felt a creeping horror move up my spine. Even in the most barren desert, one could find an abundance of life just beneath the sand. Not here. This place was dead. The sterile monuments of battle that decorated the hillsides were an homage to something their creator did not understand, for their faces were waxy and expressionless, contorted into mockeries of rage. It wasn't just that this place was dead; this place had never been alive. This place did not know what life was. My hand shook against the gate, and I squeezed it as though to juice the terror through my sweat. I lifted my backfoot from the watery oasis outside and stepped wholly into the realm of Wrath.

The gate slammed shut. A drum sounded. The statues shifted at once and stared at me. The drum sounded again. Wrath stood before me. He was a hulking beast, his flesh black, his muscles bulging with too many bellies and veins to be anatomically correct. His teeth were filed to saber points, and his eyes glowed red and without irises above his leering grin.

"Hello, Holy Mother," he said with a deep voice.

"Hello, Wrath," I answered back.

He cocked his head, stretching the veins and tendons that seemed to connect his ears to his shoulders. "I always knew the day would come when my creator returned to me."

"I am not your creator."

He grinned wolfishly. "On the third day, The Holy Mother birthed Wrath. 'You will be my forge,' The Holy Mother said to him, 'you will be the rage that sharpens man to my purpose. You will be the divider of the strong and the weak. You will be the wind of war.' That is what it says in the book of books."

"The woman who gave you that lie is dead."

Wrath cocked his head to the other side. "I know all who step foot in my domain. Whatever you think you are matters naught. I know the truth in you." He ran his eyes up my body and grinned. "Those who visit me are always tied to the plane below this one. It is their safeguard against the brutality that I deal with such relish, for their minds can sustain the punishment if their bodies are intact. But you, Holy Mother, are wholly of the mind." He inhaled through his wide nostrils and blew out a gout of smoke. "What a day this is. Today, I kill God. Ah, but where are my manners? I have a guest, and I have not offered her food, nor drink, nor bed! Forgive me, Holy Mother."

I was in a dining hall. Great platters of succulent chicken, moist turkey, and heaps of steak were piled atop each other in a mountain of dead meat. Wrath tore through his fifth helping of food and looked fondly upon me from across the table.

"How did I—"

"Long have I wondered how the Holy Mother would do battle," Wrath interrupted. "Tell me, are you a nimble little fighter like the Untethered One, or are you a slasher like her mother? Do you hoist the morning star like Sun Man, or do you wield a greatsword like me?"

"I don't know what you're—" I was standing in an arena. The stands rose around me, the stone crowd cheering silently, their faces fixed in the manic fervor of the contest. Wrath stood on the other side of the arena, each of his footfalls causing dust to erupt from the sand. The scraping sound of his greatsword against the sand echoed through the arena until he whipped the enormous blade up with lightning speed, and it sang out a pure metallic note.

I was encased in black leather armor, and holding a rapier. I'd never held a sword in my life, and nothing about it felt natural to me. Nothing about it was natural at all. Even through the torture of fire and hammer, I could still feel a connection with the rock in steel, but this sword was not steel. It was a poor idea of steel; the dull luster, the weight, the sharpness, but there was no substance, no understanding. I could do nothing with it.

Wrath let out a roar and thundered across the arena. His rippling thighs propelled him five yards a stride, and he rocketed toward me behind a cloud of dust, his red eyes narrowing hungrily. I screamed and jumped out of the way just as he brought down his sword. It crashed into the wall of the arena, splitting three of the audience members right down the middle. I rolled awkwardly out of my dive and sprinted away. Wrath came charging after me, bringing his sword overhead for another strike. He swung down, I shot to the left, and his blade nearly clipped my heel. I stumbled into the sand, and my sword shot from my grip and slid away. Wrath's footsteps were much less urgent now. His thundering footfalls sounded slowly behind me, echoing in the arena until his shadow was cast over me. I curled into a fetal ball and whimpered.

"What is this?" he growled above me. "Why do you blubber and weep like a babe? Are you not omnipotent? Are you not GOD?!"

"No," I hissed.

"Get up!" he roared and sent a kick to my ribs. I shot into the air, spinning like a ballerina before landing with a sickening crack onto my side. I spat blood into the sand, and Wrath paced back to the far wall, got into position, and charged me. I could only lie there and watch him through my blurred vision; a black shape thundering ever closer, kicking a great cloud of dust in his wake. His greatsword flashed above his head, and he reared back to deal the final blow. I grasped around me for something—anything—to defend myself with, but my sword was lying in the sand twenty yards away, and there was nothing else. My desperate fingers fished into my pouch and brushed something coarse. The rock. As Wrath towered over me to cut me in half, I pulled the rock from my pouch and thrust my hand toward him. A thin line formed between my fist and Wrath's eye. It was barely the width of a needle. Wrath stared at me for a second, then his halves peeled away from each other. His bisected brain tumbled from his skull, his collapsed lungs hung from his split chest cavity, his intestines unraveled from his cloven midsection and piled onto the sand. The halves of his face held their smile for a moment, then parted to rest in the puddle of red he'd formed beneath him.

I stood up and groaned as I touched my ribs. I had been fortunate to only have three of them broken, but it would still take me a long time under Xaya's care to recover from this. I closed my eyes, and shuddered at the prospect. There were two other Sentients who I would have to kill, and both would be much more dangerous than Wrath. If killing him had caused me so much damage, then surely—I was sitting in a hot tub. Wrath was across from me, enjoying a horn of ale and laughing boisterously.

"...and that act you put on!" he hollered as though in the middle of a long story. "What a tactic! I have faced warriors who feigned weakness before, but never one who would risk so much to do so! Bravo!"

I blinked at him. "I killed you."

"INDEED YOU DID!" he roared happily. "Dissected me like a lab rat!"

"Why aren't you dead?!" I screamed.

He looked amusedly at me. "Am I not?" He took a deep swig of his ale and sighed. "It was a good match, Holy Mother, but I will not let you get off so easily next time. I always learn from my errors." He held up my rock and examined it curiously. "What weapon is this? I have not seen one of its like."

"It's a rock."

He snorted. "It is much more than that."

"The weapon doesn't matter."

Wrath gave me an approving smile. "Indeed, Holy Mother, it is the one who wields it," he said and handed me the rock. I took it from his massive hand, but his fingers caught mine before I could retract them. I looked into his horrid red gaze, and he leered at me. "I believe it's time for bed."

Part Two: Hello Again

DIAMOND

The iron box was only ten feet away, but I could barely see it behind the entropic hedges of thorns and branches that walled my realm into nonsensical paths, turning it into a delirious maze. Xaya held my hand loosely and sang to herself. Her melody was a discordant nonsensical thing, and no lyrics gave any meaning to it. She switched keys without thinking, followed no scale or harmony, but it was beautiful nonetheless. It was a wild song, some upwelling of her soul that poured from her mouth and announced the current state of her heart. When she was amid an intense crescendo, I seized the opportunity to run away from her.

She snapped her arm and wrapped me once again in her embrace. Her lips found the hollow of my throat, her fingers found the thing between my legs, and I sighed. Xaya was a creature of instinct, and I was her prey. Once she'd sated the desires of hunting, more carnal instincts took hold. She rode me on the floor of our conjoined minds and filled the hunger within her. I hated how much I enjoyed it. When she was done, she pulled me to my feet, held my hand, and began singing as we strolled aimlessly through the jungle. Her grip loosened on my hand, and her keen eyes snuck to their corners and dared me to try and run again. I had tried five times already, and I was getting quite sore. I didn't fall for it this time.

"You know you're all alone right now," I muttered to her. "You're just floating by yourself in Voda. All your followers left you. The ones that survived, anyway. The worst of them."

Xaya just smiled. Though she was without language, it was obvious she could understand me.

"Oh, you think it's funny?" I mumbled. "Countless people died because of me, and it's just a hoot."

Her smile broadened.

I sighed and nodded. "I guess I thought it was funny too. That's what Corruption does to us." I wiped a tear from my eye. "That's what I did to Mom."

Xaya pouted her lips mockingly.

"You're just a jerk, you know that?" I growled.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

I whipped my head away and scowled at the floor. She was trying to get a reaction out of me, but I wouldn't have it. I was done playing her games. As we walked hand-in-hand through our endless minds, I pondered how I could use this moment to my advantage. Corruption was gone longer than usual, and time always favored those with tenacity. I would find a way to gain control of myself and save me and Mom before we did something unforgivable. Well, it was far too late for that, but perhaps I could save everyone else.

TERA

I took a deep breath through my nose, and my eyes flashed open. My brain processed millions of different odors in a second, collecting them from a wide radius to alert my primal mind of predators and prey. As a succubus, I had very few predators and a great multitude of prey. In this horde, I only had one true predator, and I'd managed to tame her. Now there were two, and there was no taming the young lioness. Perhaps Julia needed someone to validate her insanity at every turn, but Diamond Gendian wholly embraced her madness. My time in this biblical exodus of morons was at an end. I snatched my bag from the wall, stuffed the treasure I'd collected within it, and opened my wagon door.

I was greeted to pandemonium. Every orc was surging toward the front to catch a glimpse of the foretold messenger of God, the Enlightened One, the Water Dancer. Julia had hyped her daughter up so much that Diamond had become a messianic figure before even meeting her flock, and now the sheep rushed right for the wolf while the crafty fox ran the other way. I pulled on a cloak, obscured my features, and disappeared into the crowd. Moving against the current with expert steps, I sinuously flowed between the orcs, making my way toward the end of the vast mass of people where no one would ever look for me. I'd select a few stragglers to enslave, hijack a wagon, and ride for the coast. After buying my passage overseas, I'd find a band of cutthroats and begin my new career as a pirate; shit, I already had a hooked hand. I just had to maneuver my way through the endless stream of orcs and kill the stupid Breytan who dropped right in front of me.

"Where are you going, Good Sister?" Aiko asked me with a grin full of venom. Five more Breytans dropped around me, their hands resting on their katanas. "Sister Julia requests your presence immediately. Either you will come with us, or I will inform the good sister that you have denied her command, and are abandoning this holy journey like the heretic we all know you are."