Chapter 3: The Day of Whitening.

It had been almost four weeks since Destructress had gone to see if Angelic Bane was ready to be elevated into Destructress’s protege… The moment she had allowed the little telepathic profiter the illusion of subjugation… The time allowed for the reward of the little porn profiter to remain… yet, between her Mistress’s many demeaning demanding demands and her own impulses, Destructress had noticed something.

“Il y a quelque chose qui cloche avec les petits serviteurs…”

Muses the God Queen… Thankfully, her Mistress hasn’t required her to “star” in another video, her only duties had been to tend to the many, varied, relentless needs of her young Mistress in the privacy of her habitations, away from prying eyes, where she was used and abused with such artistry, she couldn’t but fall in an endless cycle of punishment after her body betrayed her and climaxed without permission. The problem was whenever she tended to her own matters.

“Les paysans ne se comportent pas correctement…”

Sure, every moment she graced them with their presence, the lessers groveled properly… Suffered properly… Begged properly. The black beasts still agonized in her presence, knowing deeply in their bones they deserved nothing but her scorn… To be nothing but the lowest of cattle in her presence… That, like their darling Rainbow Red, their purpose was to endlessly suffer for her amusement… But now… Now, there was a new emotion blossoming in the inferiors every time the God Queen allowed them to bask in her presence… The serfs’ eyes now held something else—besides the awe, the pain, the obedience. A glint. A warmth. That wretched hunger she had seen daily reflected in her stolen glances toward Angelic Bane’s thighs… Something she had grown accustomed to under her Queen’s ongoing temporary reign… The very lust that had allowed this reward for Angelic Bane… In the inferior’s filthy gazes.

“Je pense que cette mascarade a rempli son rôle… Mais avant…”

The “Flowers of the Night” was a neutral ground… A sacrosanct place where, from the moment she established it, everyone was equal on Blackest Flower’s embrace… A place where even the self-appointed God Queen of the Age had to play to the killer of Thunderess’s rules.

“Où est cette vieille harpie ? Où se cache cette mégère ?”

Hammerfist grunted as he was held aloft before his bar, his mighty hands futilely pressed against the white-clothed arm lifting him aloft… Even here, Destructress could feel it… In the eyes of the lesser criminals and villains looking stunned at the dainty woman lifting the behemoth, the one surviving Super Soldier of the Crimson Sovereign, as if he was but an expensive Pair of shoes… And even in the surviving toy of the Sovereign… Daring to think of itself as her peer instead of the Sovereign’s plaything it always was.

“Now now… Children these days… Back in the day…”

And the usually imperious entrance of Blackest Flower gets interrupted, as the Villainess of Villainesses stops as the curtain separating the private areas of the bar from the floor falls behind her, her voice becoming a blizzard as she purrs.

“Let… Him… Go… Child… If even an atom of that man results damaged, by the Almighty Sovereign’s Bones… I will end you… You know me… You know my feelings towards the ”Divine”… I do not tolerate selfish… petty… MEDDLESOME Gods in both humans and my affairs… And, if I’m not mistaking, I’ve more than told you how dearest Hammerfist and myself feel about you after what you did to Sangrotta all those years ago, and I will not hesitate to show you what that whore Thunderess saw in her last moments in this plane… Even if I have to apologize and pay darling, lewd, Angelic Bane reparations… in any way she sees fit… Afterwards…”

And the God Queen smiles… Her hand lowering so she can let the last son of Sangrotta stand, in her face a smile… a telling smile…

My apologies for the spectacle, mighty warrior of a bygone era but the times, and the worth of your Mistress, demanded a proper show of force to request the kind of audience I require… And what better than the most important, last of my predecessor’s super weapons…

And Destructress turns, smiling at the God Killer as Flower smiles back… Languidly opening up the curtain behind her as she beckons Destructress…

“Come, dearie… I’m sure you do need something important from me… Don’t dally up…”

As Destructress walks into the innermost den of the woman who killed a Goddess, Blackest Flower lingers as a gruff voice says.

“Could’ve taken her…”

“Of course, you could have, Hammerfist, darling… You were dearest Sovereign’s invincible War Ox… Even Patrioteer himself wouldn’t have been able to stop the Hammer of your soul, had Dearest Sovereign not wanted him for himself…”

And as Blackest Flower begins to retreat to her inner sanctum, She looks back.

“Make sure we’re not disturbed… You can rough them up as you please… Just don’t do killings… We don’t want Red and her girls snooping around…”

And as Hammerfist offers a grunt, Blackest Flower vanishes behind her curtain… Assured Hammerfist will obey her as he would his Sovereign.

“Now… If you ever threaten my Hammerfist ever again… But you understand that, don’t you, dearie…? Now… Tell Mommy Flower what can she assist you with…?”

Unlike Angelic Bane’s office/throne room or Destructress’s own palatal penthouse, Blackest Flower’s “throne room” was small and utilitarian… Save for the gigantic photograph overlooking the room behind her desk… The almost painting-like photography, like most of the stuff, had been made in Sangrotta, the image depicting all of the villains gathered with the Crimson Sovereign at the center. Iron mask, crimson cloak draped over his body, hiding the experimental power suit, he stood like a giant, imposing, invincible… At his right, the most beautiful woman in the world, clad in black… The catsuit and domino mask leave little to the imagination, and from that center, every single villain, a wave of men, women, and monsters surrounding the epicenter of Evil, who paradoxically was a benevolent God for the people of Sangrotta. Then another two pictures… one of the black-clad woman, beckoning the photographer… seducing him and the audience from within… and the other, in the other the blonde, blue-eyed woman with tanned skin, smiling at the camera with those luscious red lips, perfection that made the alluring image of the black catsuit clad woman tawdry and undeserving, yet, as Flower offers a seat to the humbled woman before Destructress could even ask, barely sitting down, Blackest Flower speaks.

“That’s how we knew she was a Goddess… She never had… Couldn’t have a bad photograph… Nothing could soil her divinity unless I did inflict it on her…”

Destructress can’t but see the images before looking at Flower… Even if she erased it, she remembers her father, telling her of her bloodline… Of herself, watching the old reels of the times before the war of unification, of the League of Restitution, of the Crimson Sovereign, of many heroes and villains before the world became one… And upon looking at the desk, just in front of the Aged God killer, a small statuette depicting the moment she became a legend… The moment she broke Thunderess’s neck. And then her eyes land on her…

“E… Est-ce que c’est… Est-ce que c’est Thunderette, l’acolyte disparue de Thunderess… ?”

The young woman was alluring… A crimson-haired brunette dressed in a fetish maid outfit that enhanced her near divine feminine perfection, a perfection that blushed prettily as Destructress watched her pour two cups of tea…

“I had to make Thunderess bleed some time… Her reeducation was long and arduous, and could only begin after the war ended…”

And Blackest Flower smiles, taking a demonstrative drink of her tea, so Destructress could see it was clean.

“You know, dearest Sovereign, for all of his faults, was very meticulous… He didn’t have files and information on Patrioteer or Richard Reed and his brood… He had detailed information on EVERYONE… He knew every one of us better than we knew ourselves… We all knew that the moment we displeased him… Encroached on his claims… He would destroy us before we realized he had done it…”

And Blackest Flower smiles… Looking at Destructress as a mother looks at a daughter… And Destructress looks as She lets the matron continue.

“You’re accustomed to undoing everything that you don’t like, but if you delete the unpleasant, how will the rest of us learn what it means to displease you… And what will happen to us if we dare misbehave under your Dominion…”

And as both women look at each other, Destructress smiles… And does the only thing she can do…

“Pourquoi…? Pourquoi me dis-tu cela…?”

“Because you’re the successor of the Crimson Sovereign… You aren’t me… You aren’t anyone else but my beloved Sovereign in the age he wanted… He wanted to extend the blessings he gave Sangrotta upon the world, and he succeeded even if Sangrotta didn’t…”

Replies Flower, her face aglow and beautiful as she smiles at the “heiress of her sovereign”.

“Tu sais que je vais effacer ça, n’est-ce pas… ? On ne peut pas laisser passer la”victoire” d’Fléau des Anges…”

Says Destructress as she rises, and in that moment, a flicker of the Destructress that descended to visit Angelic Bane almost a month ago shines as Blackest Flower rises too, on her lips one of the most savage grins ever seen by anything.

“Why of course, dearie… After all, the Heiress of the Crimson Sovereign shouldn’t have a sex video submitting to a thrift store version of myself…”

And both women return to the bar… To the patrons who look lustfully at Destructress for a moment, as her glacial gaze makes them look away… Missing how the God Queen embraces Hammerfist and whispers…

“Encore une fois, je m’excuse pour cette rudesse, beau dragon, ô magnifique chevalier du tout-puissant Souverain… Dites-moi… C’est ainsi que vous me voyez…? Comme l’héritière de votre Seigneur…?”

And the old soldier of Sangrotta blushes… Blushes and grunts… And even between his legs… Because she might be the next step in his Sovereign’s design, but she’s the new Apex of Woman and he’s the Sovereign made old Apex of Man… Yet, Destructress, let’s go and walk out of this bar of Mood… And then swoons as the inescapable voice of her Mistress beckons.

Her Mistress, as usual, is on top of her game… Relentless… Insatiable… Delicious… And the platinum blonde toy relishes the taste of her pleasure… The fragrance of her scent… And the beauty of her voice…

“Oh my gosh, like, Destructress, babe… This past month has been, like, totally epic… Way beyond my craziest dreams, but, like, I totes think it’s time to give your new fans more to, like, totally obsess over…”

Coos Angelic Bane as she lets go of Destructress, letting the God Queen rise, to look at her, bathed in her pleasure, subjugated, hers… Yet, Destructress smiles.

“Bien sûr, ma chère et bien-aimée Maîtresse… Votre volonté est absolue… Pourtant… Puisque c’est le lendemain…”

And Destructress lifts her right hand and… Snaps her fingers and the Universe goes white.