The Creators: Epilogue

I clenched my jaw. "This is the way it has to be. If I go out there... if I change in any way from this... think of what could happen."

"I won't let you do anything drastic."

"Because you're a beacon of responsibility."

She giggled and rolled over on the bed until she was on her back. "I fell in love with you because you're not Vitanimus, and now you're trying to make the same mistake he did."

"Vitanimus understood that there needs to be a constant in the universe. Everything else can be fluid, but what holds it all together must be solid."

She yawned. "What holds it all together is our love. It is solid and unyielding, but you, Justina Autumnsong, are not Vitanimus. If you try to be solid, you will not be strong like he was; you will shatter. You will steal all the power you gave and force the afterlife into a rigid rational shape. It will be perfectly sensible--quite like a machine--for your madness will not be manic, but robotic. Because you define reality, you define sanity. No one will be able to say you've gone mad, but I will know. I will have to pick up the pieces and put you back together, and then you, my dearest love, will have to hear me say, 'I told you so.' And I know you'd rather burn in Hell for an epoch than hear that."

I glared at her.

She grinned back. "You just have to visit each realm once. Just once, that's all I ask. Spend a year or two, then take a decade off to recenter yourself."

I continued glaring at her.

She continued grinning back.

"We've been having this same argument word-for-word for the last century."

She nodded with her evil grin.

"And it always ends with me refusing you."

Another nod.

"But because I'm such a rigid bitch, you knew all you had to do was keep chipping away at me and I'd finally break."

She pouted her lips mockingly. "You give me too much credit, my love. You're the great engineer who plotted the course of history epochs in advance. I'm just the ditzy little slut who somehow always ends up getting exactly what she wants." She winked at me. "See you soon, babe."

I ground my teeth, clenched my fists, and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was standing at the gates of Heaven. The great marble threshold was so tall that it breached the clouds and so wide that it curved with the arc of the astral plane. Every inch of it was adorned with biblical statues of cupids and angels, and the grand gilded gate was always open as if to welcome the universe in. Great rolling hills festooned the landscape, each hilltop ornamented with a temple. Quaint villages were nestled in the rustic countryside, and atop the highest hill, was a heavenly metropolis. A fifty-mile-high cathedralic dome dominated the skyline, and the tiered city stepped down perfectly to display the immense grand architecture. The walls of each tier were lined with royal gardens that would've put any Life Giver creation to shame, and the mode of transportation was to be whisked away by giant graceful swans. I looked off in the distance and saw another grand city with a different theme cresting the horizon. While the city before me was ripped right from an imperial high-elf's wet dream, the architect was cognizant enough to create twenty other great cities to accommodate every culture's definition of Heaven. There was orc heaven, dwarf heaven, nymph heaven, and so on.

Though the appearance was paradisial, Julia understood what heaven truly meant for most mortals. Millions of her astral replicas serviced the populous in whatever way they required. She changed her ethnicity and gender based on tastes and gleefully adhered to every desire no matter how debased or degrading. The preconception of 'heaven' and 'hell' was that sin only happened in one. That was categorically wrong. Heaven would've been empty otherwise. I drew my attention to a nearby fountain, where a female Juliana was shooting wine from her breasts to the adoration of the crowd. A hermaphroditic Julia was having sensual sex with a patron as she injected heroin into his arm. A masculine Julian was bent over in front of a line of suitors, and a variety of gendered angels was engaging in an orgy with patrons in a nearby garden. Across the road, there was a library, an observatory, and a university where those hungry for knowledge would learn from Professor Julia. Up the street, there was a church where the devout could pray with Pastor Julia. There was a daycare run by Miss Julia, a therapist office run by Doctor Julia, and a chiropractor run by "Doctor" Julia. Julia, Julia, Julia. There were a pair of Julias greeting me right now with loving maternal smiles on their faces and hands beckoning me inward. 'Welcome to Heaven, Justina,' they said in an angelic harmony and gestured inward.

"Holy shit," Willowbud muttered beside me.

"That's what I said," Angela concurred. "Wait, Willowbud?!"

"Mom sure puts the work in," Diamond chuckled. "Glad to see you all made it on time."

Willowbud turned to her side. "Wait... what the..."

Angela glanced to her side. "What the hell? Diamond?! Justina?!"

Brandon appeared a second later and blinked stupidly. "Whoa..." he droned for a second, "...what's... what's up, Angie? Didn't think you'd still be at the gate. This is... awkward."

"I was waiting on some friends from Freedom who were going to meet me here and... oh, I see..." she kneaded her brow, "...they were also Petra's friends."

Brandon looked at the rest of us, apparently just noticing us behind his sister. "What's up, Willow?"

She shrugged and pointed at me. "Ask fucking God."

I pointed my thumb at Diamond. "No, ask the fucking devil."

Diamond just grinned from ear to ear. "Petra and I plotted a way to get everyone here mind and soul, and you all fell for it." She winked at me. "All of you."

Willowbud and Brandon looked at each other.

"I'm going back," Willowbud said.

"Yep. See you all in like... a million years," Brandon replied and turned to leave.

I sighed through my nose. "If any of you leave, I'm taking your powers away and sending you to Hell."

"What the fuck?!" Willowbud snapped.

Brandon just glowered at me.

Even Diamond gave me a strange look. "I'd be happy to paddle these naughty little babies, but Justina, that seems a bit... off-brand of you."

I gestured to the towering cathedral. "Petra has kept her promise of noninterference this long. She wouldn't have broken it unless she felt she had to."

JULIA

I was a giver. Nothing provided me greater satisfaction than providing for my children. When one of my children needed a shoulder to cry on, I would be there to say the perfect words for their healing. When one of my children needed a breast to suckle from, I would be there to croon lovingly as they nursed. When one of my children just needed some whore to hold down and fuck, I would be there, hogtied and shimmying with excitement. I was everything for everybody, and I couldn't be happier, so I always found myself to be incredibly anxious when Lucilla and Petra competed for my pleasure. I couldn't deny that I enjoyed it; it just made me... uncomfortable.

I was sitting on a chair with my eyes closed. When I made love with Lucilla or Diamond, I did so with my mind and soul, but no one else would ever touch me that deeply. Certainly not Petra--I would never do that to Lucilla. That meant to be an impartial judge in this competition, my soul had to remain unattended. And so I sat in a chair between the two competitors and focused almost all of my mind on the projections they serviced. It was quite the out-of-body experience to feel my astral bodies defiled in such different and wonderful ways.

To my left, Lucilla had my hermaphroditic body laid upon a bed of towels and pillows. Lucilla's body still dripped with the honeyed milk she'd been bathing in, and her supple flesh was a pillowing mold to my own, curving and pressing so sensually as she rested atop me. Her nethers were splayed out before my face; the cloven slit and pink anus already swollen from my lips; her nectar dripping and stringing from my lustful kiss. All I could do was moan and lick as she performed her talents upon me. A thousand years in paradise had spoiled her rotten, but she had a way of silencing my misgivings with that mouth of hers. She wrapped her lips around my base, nuzzled her nose into the crease of my slit, and purred deliciously as she swallowed around me. My cheeks were peeled apart and all of her fingers were inside of me, but she never stretched beyond the point of strain. Using honey and oils, she slid her hands easily into me, reaming my favorite hole so that it gripped around her wrist like a fleshy cuff; and using her other fist to unfurl my petals before plunging them back into me. She performed this defilement with such gentleness and love that it hardly felt like a violation at all, but an exploration of my insides, a massaging of my most intimate depths.

Petra was the opposite. The rules of the game dictated that no self-duplicates would be allowed, but she circumvented that by simply adding extra parts. My toes hovered just an inch from the ground as I dangled helplessly in her spidery lock of limbs. Two of her arms wrapped me about the midsection and pinned my arms to my side; two of her hands squeezed and kneaded my breasts, the fingers rolling my aching nipples and pulling them tortuously; one of her hands firmly tugged my head back by the hair, and the other wrapped around my throat. I was forced to stare into those wicked featureless eyes of hers, forced to squirm within the prison of her body, forced to endure the horrible, wonderful sensations she forced deep into my core. Her two masculine organs drove into my holes at a feverish pace, smacking against my backside so violently that the ripples moved in waves across my reddening flesh. Every drive stretched me, pierced me, squished into my vulnerable depths, and filled me to perfection, and though the screams of delight boiled from my chest, they could not be sounded from my lips. She locked me into a kiss, her long reptilian tongue squirming down my throat, painting the inner-flesh with a relaxant that made me accept and love the invasion. I breathed sharply through my nose as I stared rapturously into her evil eyes, helpless to do anything but be her prey. She completed the monstrous predation with a long tail that wrapped about my aching cock and coiled in rolling waves of pressure. A steady dribble of cum leaked from my throbbing red tip, forced from my brutalized prostate that was squished from both sides. My nipples, pussy, and clit drew a line within my body, creating a harmony of feminine pleasure with the masculine surrender, sending me beyond the point of sanity.

I sat in the chair, and let my mind wander between the dichotomy of sensations and emotions that each brand of lust compelled. Though I was untouched, my hands were gripping the armrests with white-knuckled intensity, my body was shimmering with sweat, my nipples were standing taut, and my sexuality was throbbing, flushed, and dripping. Nectar leaked unbiddenly betwixt my rubbing thighs, semen bubbled from my pulsating tip, and my lips were moistened with spit as I licked them deliciously. To my left, Lucilla finished her meal and climbed up my body to ride me. Her wet and supple flesh molded breast-to-breast, belly-to-belly, thigh-to-thigh, and she took my raging member into her warmth with a moan into my mouth. To my right, Petra pulled me deeper into her predatory coil, deafening my ears between her pillowing breasts, pulling my chin back so that she could plunge her tongue deeper down my throat. Lucilla slid her slickened body upon mine with deep and passionate oscillations that brought her back into an arch and a bow, taking me all the way, gripping me lovingly with her soft sucking petals. She grew a forked tail that curved beneath us and stirred my holes deeply, but that was as far as she would go with bodily modification. In truth, she was uncomfortable with it--she was uncomfortable with quite a few things--and that was why she was going to lose.

It wasn't that Lucilla's brand of lust was inferior to Petra's--love and tenderness were not inferior to violence and power. She was going to lose because she could not reach the level of her lust that Petra could with hers. They both knew me down to my marrow, they both understood me in ways no one else but Diamond could, and with everything else equal, the only edge one could gain over the other was experience. And Petra... oh, Petra was experienced. I couldn't take it anymore!

"I'm sorry, Lucilla!" I hissed, gripping the chair with such intensity that my tendons stood. My entire body quivered with tension as my astral body was ravaged beyond description. Petra's hands slid and squeezed with expert anticipation, knowing where the pleasure would course before even I did. She made me squirm in her arachnid hold, and her rapacious lips fed so lovingly, so domineeringly as she stared into my eyes, boring a hole right into my mind as she thrust, and thrust, and thrust. My head flew back, my hair arced, and while my astral body wriggled with an ecstasy too great to contain, I trembled in my chair until its feet were chattering upon the marble floor. My thighs flexed, my pussy flushed, my anus clenched, and my cock seized. The masculine euphoria lanced through me, the feminine ascension ballooned, and I cried out with teary eyes as I squirted, ejaculated, and released.

The astral projection in Petranumen's arms underwent an epileptic climax. The projection in Lucilla's embrace tried to match the intensity, but I wasn't much of a liar, and it was unsporting to fake it. She let out a weak orgasmic cry, then fell back onto the cushions as Lucilla reached her crescendo. Petra drove her hips three more times, then filled my astral projection to the brim with a shuddering clench of her eight arms. The imprisoned Julia tensed with every muscle, then went as limp as death. Petra indulged in the feeding for a moment longer, painting her conquered prey's receptive lips with her tongue before setting her upon the floor, and retracting with a shlock. My astral projection simply lied upon her belly in a comatose state, staring sightlessly as the aftershocks wracked her body, and the fluids spurted from her gaping holes. The projection in Lucilla's arms kissed my beloved upon the lips, but it was a consolation peck. Lucilla only had to look to her side and see Petra seated triumphantly atop her felled quarry's backside to know who the winner was.

"Julia," Petra drawled, lighting a cigarette for effect, "would you be so kind as to update the score?"

Above us, the scoreboard lit up with neon. The Temptation Game 2.0: Light of Julia's Life: 7,669. Homewrecking Cunt: 7,670.

Lucilla groaned and rolled off her partner with a wet peel of flesh. "Took you long enough."

"For you, maybe," she chuckled, "for me, it was barely the blink of an eye."

"We get it; you're a dusty bag," Lucilla growled, her chest heaving, her flesh glistening with exertion.

Petra hadn't even broken a sweat. She eased into a relaxed sprawl atop my astral body and retracted her extra limbs. However, she did not do the same with her throbbing gendered additions, still glistening with my violation. "I do love how terrible a loser you are," she teased Lucilla as she stroked her two members. "There's nothing more satisfying in all the realms than that hateful look in your eyes when you're cleaning me off."

Lucilla sneered back. "It's nice to know you put so much effort into this. For me, it's just Thursday morning."

"I know the taste of defeat can be bitter, but it's much easier to stomach when it's still fresh." Petra extinguished her cigarette on my projection's ass (much to her delight), and beckoned Lucilla with a finger. "Now crawl that sexy little ass over here before your meal gets cold."

Lucilla managed to get onto shaking hands and knees and crawl lasciviously across the marble floor. Though she was a disheveled wreck, I could see that she very much enjoyed these moments with Petra, even these moments of defeat. There was a playful challenge in her eyes as she took the throbbing members in her hands, and began cleaning them off one at a time. That playfulness was shared in Petra's gaze as she knitted her fingers into Lucilla's hair, and tried to make her gag with a push. Lucilla's nose wrinkled into a defiant sneer when she took the bulging girth down with ease, and the competitiveness of the look only intensified when she swallowed and rotated, compelling an unbidden whimper from the goddess. Lucilla smiled victoriously around her meal and pulled along the shimmering length until Petra's whimpers had turned to moans of astonishment. It was an unspoken rule of this game that the winner would express humility when receiving her prize. She could berate and demean the loser, but she could not hide her reaction to the other's sexual prowess. There were times when the post-competition prize blossomed into day-long ventures of lovemaking, and I would be regulated to a service role, providing sustenance, liquor, and drugs as they required. It pleased me to do that. It pleased me greatly to watch the two women who had taken opposite sides of my heart come together in the afterlife and find the love in each other through me.

I doubted this would be one of those days though. Lucilla had not yet noticed, but she had an audience. Beyond the rows of empty astral projections watching the scene, were five soul-filled people watching from across the milk-pool. All I had to do was examine the guilty look in Petra's eyes to know what was happening.

PETRANUMEN

"What the fuck?" Lucilla muttered, my cum stringing from her lips. "Brandon is that you?! And Angela too? And who's that hiding behind the--WILLOWBUD?!" Lucilla leapt to her feet. "Sparkles, what the hell is this? Justina did you... wait, are you actually here?!" Lucilla whipped her head around and glared at me. "YOU!"

"Lucilla, wait a sec--"

"I said no fucking reunions!" She yelled. "Did we learn nothing?! This shit..." she pointed to all of us, "...does not fucking mix!"

"Hey, we didn't ask for this!" Angela yelled back. "I just wanted to come to Heaven and get my twat shined for a few centuries, but Justina said she's gonna go all God-mode on us if we don't..." Angela turned to me, "...do whatever it is the fuck we're doing here."

All eyes turned to me.

I climbed to my feet and looked at Julia. "Could you please take us somewhere more conducive to a meeting?"

She raised a brow. "That depends on what kind of meeting this is going to be, Petra."

"It's gonna be a fucking orgy, of course!" Willowbud yelled. "Besides killing each other, have you and I ever hashed shit out any other way?"

"That's fine with us," Lucilla sneered back. "I'd rather sit on your face than look at it any day."

"Hey, guys, enough," Brandon said.

Lucilla gave him a perplexed look. "Bro, why are you even here?"

He shrugged. "Justina told me I needed to leave Freedom. So it was either go to Chaos and be brutally murdered, go to Hell and be tortured, or come here and see Julia again. Honestly, it was a surprisingly hard choice."

Julia swallowed anxiously. "I understand."

Lucilla narrowed her eyes at Brandon. "You and I used to be cool."

"We fucked a few times. That was before your girlfriend boiled one of my friends alive and had my fingers chopped off."

I raised my hand. "I had a lot to do with that."

"So did I," Diamond said, "and we hang out."

"Yeah..." Brandon conceded with a nod, "...but you two actively made amends after the fact, and... well, it's been a long time. If wounds don't heal right, they scar. Honestly, Petra," he looked up at me, "what's the point of this?"