Mina opened her eyes, and looked into the faces of her flesh-servants. Sam looked at them, too, feeling the delicious and novel joy of owning them at her core. Mina saw them smile, and felt her resonance in their corrupted bodies. Jordan smiled, and got to her feet.
Surprised to be standing, Sam looked down at herself, and saw dark skin, and full breasts that lacked the studs that used to mark her as the Mother’s property. Mina saw it too, and for a moment, she was confused.
And she understood. She shivered, looking down at Jordan’s hot, corrupted body, then looked over her shoulder, seeing the lifeless corpses of Mina and Sam. She felt a short moment of disconnection and alarm to see herself dead, before the truth settled comfortably at her core.
She was Sam.
She was Mina.
She was Jordan.
All of it was equally true. She felt all their memories, all their essence within her. She was all of them, and none of them. She was so much more.
She was the Mother of all demons. She remembered the eons spanning to the dawn of time. She remembered the battle for Heaven and Earth. She remembered the blood of a million fallen enemies, and she remembered the taste of a million dying souls. She remembered the taste of Mina’s soul. And of Sam’s soul, and of Jordan’s and Katie’s and Ellie’s and Ana’s and Leah’s. She licked her lips, and felt her tongue catch against sharp fangs in her mouth.
“Servants,” she said, and she felt her words roil at their cores, and felt how they moistened at the sound of her voice.
“Mother,” the three of them chorused. They were hers. Their flesh served. Served her. Only her. Soon, all flesh would be made to serve. She could already taste the fear, and she felt her mouth watering.
She was free at last.
Part of her couldn’t believe it. She had been so lucky. The Order had been so caught up in tradition, so weak and scattered. Even in the formless depths of her exile, she remembered how her darkness had sensed the world changing around it as the century slipped by. The Order had missed it. Lost touch. Old white men were the fucking worst.
She smiled. Jordan had been the one to think that. It felt as much like something she would think as it felt novel and unfamiliar. She considered her new state of mind, and found that she quite enjoyed it. She felt youthful and very much connected to this world.
Of course I do she thought. I lived in it my whole life. Yes. She had been human just a day ago. She was... Sam or Jordan or Mina. All of the above. It was wonderful and wondrous. She had served. She had been freed from her soul, and become Her vessel.
And she suddenly realized why the darkness that had owned them had never had a name.
There was no fourth mind in her. And there had never been one.
The thing that had claimed their souls and bodies had never been a demon—but a force of nature. It had been a mindless, formless manifestation of violent chaos and lust and evil desire. It didn’t have real thoughts—but it had intent. Powerful, corrupting and malicious intent—liquid and formless, taking the shape of whatever vessel it filled.
She and the other two Heralds had been corrupted and twisted until they had become the darkness, and the darkness had become them, without ever having had a mind of its own. That was what it meant to become the vessel. Not to be taken over by the Mother, but to become the Mother.
And she had. She could feel the darkness in her, pitiless and violent and lusting for willing flesh. It was what she was now, and it made her so fucking wet. She was that calamitous force of nature and her purpose was to consume this world until there was nothing left of it!
But first, it was time to reward her flesh-servants, and herself.
She looked at Ana, and felt the Gift in the young woman’s womb. It was mature and ready to be birthed. Soon, it was going to force itself it of her, and they would use it to claim the soul of the last sister of the Order. But first, the Mother wanted to use her. The Gift could wait. She raised her arm to beckon Ana to take her place at her Mother’s feet and the young blonde whore knelt before her with burning eyes. The Mother spread her legs, and her flesh-servant knew what to do. Obediently, she began worshipping her Mother’s pussy.
It was still Jordan’s pussy. Her body was the only part of her that had remained as just one of the three of her. But she didn’t mind. She remembered how hot she had found Jordan. How she had wanted to be as close to her as she could, how much she had wanted to fuck her. Jordan’s hot body was so much hotter now: Corrupted and twisted, her skin even darker than it had been, her teeth grown into fangs, and her eyes liquid black.
She smiled. That had been Sam’s thought, and Mina’s. It felt hot to know as Jordan that they had thought that of her body, and it had been so fucking hot to think it as Sam and Mina and let Jordan know.
Ana’s tongue was warm and wet against her cunt, and she moaned. She could feel it resonate inside Ana’s thoughts. She could feel her lust, and her utter desire to serve. You’ve earned it, whore, she thought, remembering the formless hatred and rage she had felt for Ana when she had still been nothing more than incorporeal chaos beneath the earth. She remembered the primal satisfaction of defeating her and raping her and claiming her body.
She remembered the moment Ana’s soul had died.
She had watched it. All of her had watched it. Jordan and Sam and Mina. They’d all been there. But now she also remembered the delicious taste of her soul—sharp and pure and light, unspoiled and virginal, and full of modesty and self-doubt.
“Harder, you shameless slut,” she spat, and Ana’s efforts redoubled. Her lips were greedy and her tongue was reckless, and spit ran down her chin. Yesss! she thought. She looked down between her legs, and saw Ana’s eyes, and felt the void in her heart where her soul had been. She felt her shameless lust and desire and the blackness that owned her. Willing flesh.
She made Ana lick and suck, harder and harder, until Jordan’s cunt—now forever her cunt—was screaming and aching, and the pleasure inside her seemed to mount to unbearable heights, until, finally, she came into Ana’s face. Her resonance exploded through the air, and made Ana come along with her. She heard her scream and moan and collapse and looked down at the dirty, sweaty, bloody woman. Her blonde hair was oily and stained with dark red. Her tits jiggled as she convulsed on the floor, her hand buried in her pussy.
She could taste Ana’s mind: She wanted this. Only this, forever, and nothing else: Serve! The pleasure had overwhelmed her and swept her away, and her thoughts swam with blind ecstasy.
But they weren’t done, yet. The time had come for Ana to fulfill her purpose as the vessel of the Mother’s seed.
The Gift in Ana’s womb squirmed, and the Mother’s whore screamed with exploding pleasure. Her whole body shook, and a moment later, blood began trickling out of her slit. Ana’s ecstasy was enough to make her Mistress shiver and moan along with her. The Mother watched her buck and convulse, and felt every moment of her pleasure. She noticed dimly how the flesh-servants Leah and Ellie were caressing their cunts as they, too, watched—but her eyes were firmly glued to Ana’s trembling body.
Soon, her Gift burst out of Ana’s pussy in a cascade of wiggling claws and pincers, and Ana moaned and groaned, spreading her legs wide, bucking against the pleasure, pushing against it.
One more convulsion, and it was out of her, and Ana growled and screamed as the orgasm shook her. The Gift she had birthed was the smallest one yet, and it immediately skittered across the stone floor and up the Mother’s leg and body. It had already found a place on the Mother’s shoulder before Ana had stopped mewling and groaning with pleasure.
The Mother looked down at Ana, who had finally come to rest. The flesh-servant was panting heavily, and looked exactly like the dirty, shameless whore that she was. She was hers. Only hers. Ana’s soulless eyes looked up to meet hers, and for a moment, they both said nothing. Ana lay at the feet of her Mistress, legs spread, tits heaving on her chest. Then Ana smiled, and it was the cruel smile of a lying, deceitful monster. Someone that only sought her own gratification. Someone that felt nothing for anyone except herself. She was so fucking hot.
“Thank you, Mother” hissed the soulless flesh-servant that had been Sister Ana, and Jordan and Sam and Mina looked down through the Mother’s eyes at the first soul they had destroyed together.
“You’re welcome, whore.”
Ana got back to her knees, wonderfully filthy with blood and sweat. Leah almost didn’t notice her, however. Her attention belonged to the One that had claimed her body and soul. The Mother of Chaos—her Mother! An unimaginable hunger had taken hold of her. Her demon-tainted pussy ached with incandescent lust, and she knew that nothing could ever fully satisfy the primal, fundamental urge to serve Her. Leah looked at the tall, young, dark-skinned woman and saw not mortal flesh, but the embodiment of chaos and lust and the very center of the universe—and her mind rode on boiling waves of desire as she imagined the apocalyptic future that She would unleash upon mankind, and her mouth watered with bloodthirst and cruel satisfaction.
All flesh must serve. All must fall into chaos and lust and darkness, and taste the ecstasy of Her corruption. In a flash of shameless sexual heat, she imagined herself at the Mother’s heels as the world descended into a cacophony of screams and moans. She imagined herself standing over the fallen and claimed as they squirmed, the seed of Leah’s forever-corrupted womb in their flesh, taking their souls, taking their will. Yesss!
“Leah,” said the perfect voice of her new God, and Leah returned to the present moment, a tear of joy rolling down her face. It didn’t even make it halfway down her cheek before it sizzled into steam. “Yes, Mother,” she said, chest tight with anticipation and purpose and desire. Use me, command me, fuck me, she thought.
“Do you realize that none of this would have happened without you?”
Leah smiled cruelly. She might have been modest before, but that part of her had died along with the rest of her pathetic goodness. She licked her lips, and looked into the Mother’s eyes. “Yesss,” she hissed. This was getting her off so hard. “I saved the third Herald from death. I was too weak to resist Ana. I could have stopped the Constellation. Instead, I ensured it.”
“You deserve a reward,” the Mother said, smiling wickedly, and Leah smiled with her, drawing a shivering breath.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“You and Ana,” the Mother said, smiling. “The whores that betrayed the world.”
Leah shot a sidelong glance at Ana, and their eyes met for a small moment of throbbing pride and lust and dark kinship: Raped and corrupted, soulless and evil, both their bodies turned into demonic seedbeds for the Mother's spawn. Fuck yes! Leah’s pussy was already moistening again when she remembered all the horrific things that Ana had done—and she could not wait to match her cruelty, and surpass it. Together, they would rape the world in the Mother's name!
“You may mark yourself as my property,” the Mother said, turning her head, looking at the two dead bodies of the Heralds that hadn’t become the Mother’s flesh. Their breasts were adorned with the Mother’s anchors. Mina had small rings piercing her nipples, and Sam had little studs. Leah nearly creamed when she realized what she’d been offered.
“Yes, Mother,” she whimpered, blood roiling with lust and excitement.
“I want the rings,” Ana said with a smile—and Leah hissed at her as burning envy erupted in her chest. Suddenly it felt as if she’d never wanted anything more than she wanted those rings to adorn her willing flesh. To mark herself as visibly as possible as the Mother’s whore.
“No!” she said. “They’re mine!”
Ana looked at her, disgust in her eyes. “Fuck you. I was the one who made sure that your flesh served in the first place.” Her voice was hard and uncaring. “I get first pick, slut.”
Leah looked at the Mother, but the One that owned their souls just smiled wickedly, not offering any help. She obviously enjoyed the sight of former friends fighting. Leah gritted her teeth, facing the flesh-servant that wanted to take the Herald’s hot rings from her.
“Without me, Samantha Collins would have died and you’d be a soulless woman without anyone to serve,” Leah said, stepping up to Ana, staring into her eyes. “The demonic Seed in your womb would have withered and died, and you’d be nothing but wasted flesh!”
Ana met her stare without flinching.
“Without me,—” she began, but Leah cut her off. “No!!! Without you, the Mother would have had twelve gifts to claim this fucking world with instead of four, bitch!”
Ana’s hand shot forward and grabbed Leah by the throat.
“How fucking dare you, whore?” Ana growled, death in her eyes. “I’d crush your weak little spine if it wasn’t damaging the Mother’s property! I fucking made you! I took your will and then we took your pathetic soul! Because of me!”
Leah choked as she grasped at Ana’s hands, trying to pry them off her neck. But Ana’s corruption was stronger than hers. Her flesh had served for longer. Her grip was like iron, and Leah struggled and fought, but Ana’s fingers remained tight around her throat. The flesh-servant looked at Leah, eyes hard and dead and pitiless as the moment dragged on and on and Leah’s vision began to blur and turn dark at the edges. The air in Leah’s lungs burned like acid. Her throat throbbed with pleasure that was crushing pain. Her head spun as she uselessly gasped for air.
“I submit,” she croaked with her last remaining breath, and the words hardly managed to escape her constricted airways. “I’m… sorry!”
Ana stared her down for another moment, and then finally, she let go. Leah collapsed to the floor, panting and gasping for beath as Ana stared down at her without an ounce of pity.
“No, you’re not,” Ana finally said, her voice dismissive and mocking. Leah looked back at her, the shame of defeat curdling at the back of her throat. But as the humiliation sunk in, she found a grim pleasure in being weaker than her. It was true that Leah had Ana to thank for being freed of her soul. Without Ana’s betrayal, none of this would have happened. Ana had made her into willing flesh by dominating her mind. Kneeling at her feet felt strangely appropriate.
“No. Of course I’m not sorry,” Leah scoffed, voice hoarse, as she smiled back at Ana. “But I submit. I'll be your bitch. Take what you want. I’ll take the chaff.”
“I’ll take you after we’re done,” Ana scoffed, and Leah’s pussy squirmed.
Then, Ana turned away and stepped over the discarded corpses of the Heralds. She removed the nipple rings from Mina’s dead body as the Mother looked on with an amused expression. They all watched the former Scholar of the Order push the metal rings through her dark flesh at the tip of her breasts, piercing her nipples and marking herself as the first among the Mother’s flesh. Droplets of blood ran down her naked breasts, and she wiped them off with her thumb and licked it clean. She looked so fucking hot. Leah couldn’t wait to lick her cunt. If the Constellation hadn’t fully enraptured them earlier, she would have fucked her raw already.
Next it was Leah’s turn. Her heart raced with arousal and forbidden excitement as she knelt down and removed the first stud from Sam’s breasts. Violating the young Herald’s body felt transgressive in a way that Leah wouldn’t have thought she’d still be able to give a shit about. But she did. This was a Herald’s body. Taking something from it felt like stealing from Her. But as she pulled out the second piece of metal from dead flesh, she realized that this was just one more way of claiming and subjugating Samantha Collins. One more way of ending her.
Yesss! You’re gone! There’s nothing left of you that doesn’t belong to her!
She looked behind herself, into the Mother’s black eyes, knowing that the corrupted essence of Samantha Collins was watching her through those eyes.
The agony of piercing her nipples was overwhelming, and she moaned shamelessly as she pushed them into her flesh—and the Mother’s corruption twisted the pain into nothing but pleasure. Yesss! When she was done, she looked down at herself and took in her wonderful naked body, marked by the piercing as willing flesh. It’s all yours, Mother! she thought as she looked at the terrible, wonderful creature that had consumed her soul. Thank you.
She took her place next to Ana, and together they knelt before their Mother, presenting their pierced tits, presenting their willing flesh.
“We’re yours,” Ana said, her soulless eyes burning with devotion and purpose, and Leah repeated after her.
The Mother nodded, and simply raised Her right hand. It was a fluid and graceful motion, almost innocent-looking. But as She extended her arm towards Leah and Ana, the air seemed to compress in Leah’s ears and reality started to vibrate and sing around her—and like a thousand needles in her skin and a thousand kisses on her clit, the world turned into opaque ecstasy. Pleasure and pain kissed and penetrated each other in Leah’s core, and her mind drowned in the Mother’s black joy. At the tip of her breasts, she felt the sizzling, searing heat of her glowing anchors, literally red-hot, pulsating with the resonance that owned her.
And then, suddenly, the resonance swallowed her completely—and she became one with Her.
The pitiless hatred and purpose that lay at the core of the Mother’s lust revealed themselves fully—and the magnitude of Her evil expanded into vast, incomprehensible grandeur. She was swimming in an endless ocean of wonderful hatred and tasted the sweet death of a hundred thousand souls. Every soul that her Mother had ever claimed!
And among the sea of sadistic memories the Mother guided her to two particular ones: The memories of Ana and Leah. And with an explosion of Lust, she was allowed to taste the death of Ana’s soul, and the death of her own! She bucked and screamed as the perverse beauty of it overwhelmed her. Yesss! She thought, Die, you filthy whores! Die! Your flesh must serve!!! The Mother's lust overwhelmed her and it was joy and sex and she came and came and came so hard, and her mind turned blank with ecstasy and she screamed and hissed and her serving flesh burned and convulsed and she came and she came and the world was gone and she came and she came and there was only pleasure. There was only Her. There was only Her. There was only Her!
Finally Leah’s mind returned to her after a lifetime of disjointed dreamlike thoughts; She was back in the present—back in her own hot, corrupted body. She sighed with exhausted gratitude, not at all surprised to find herself lying on the floor like a broken doll, next to a moaning Ana.
The Mother smiled down at them with a detached expression as Ana and Leah recovered from their mind-shattering orgasms. She looked amused, as if the two of them were small animals she’d managed to do a successful experiment on. “That was fun,” she said. “Let’s move on, shall we?”
With weak knees, they sat up and followed the Mother as her Goddess strode across the Sanctum—toward Sister Jeanne! Leah’s dark heart leapt with cruel enjoyment. Even though she’d just experienced the most amazing release of her life, her pussy already tightened with the evil lust, and she watched rapturously as the Mother commanded Ana to free the woman’s mind. The living Gift on the Mother’s shoulder skittered excitedly as it smelled ripe flesh ready to be claimed.
Jeanne blinked, her eyes first confused, then concerned, and then—in a snap—violently afraid.
“No!!!” screamed the woman as she awoke from trance, and beheld her doom—and Leah could only imagine the wonderful fear and despair in Jeanne’s mind as the last woman of the Order realized what had happened, and what was about to happen to her.
The Mother raised her hand against Jeanne, and suddenly Leah couldn’t help but see Jordan as the one doing it. She knew that all the Heralds were equally part of the Mother, Sam and Mina and Jordan—but looking at Her, it was only Jordan’s body. Leah couldn’t help but see that young black girl that had fought so hard to stay herself. Jordan was the one she had known. The one she had cared about. The one that she had tried to save.
Leah’s pussy squirmed with the knowledge that Jordan was gone, and that her flesh served, and that she had fucked herself when her soul had died—screaming like a whore as she proclaimed that she was willing flesh. Seeing her body being the one inhabited by the Mother was one more exclamation point behind Jordan’s final dying screams in Leah’s memory.
The Evil that Jordan had offered her flesh to extended her arm against her victim, and Leah could feel the resonance spike and crash—and Jeanne let out a high-pitched squeal of distress. Her body shook and trembled, and her eyes went wide with fear and terror as it entered her mind. She gasped, and a moan escaped her—and Leah could see her nipples stiffen. Another moan, and her eyelids were fluttering, and her hips were bucking. Another, and her breaths had become shallow, and her mouth hung open, and her eyes looked at nothing—and she panted and moaned and slowly gyrated her body in time with the overwhelming resonance that had crushed her mind.
Leah’s hand was between her legs again. She remembered the willful, strict woman that Jeanne was, and already saw nothing of that in the pacified, docile eyes of the naked woman in front of her. Nothing could resist the resonance of the mother now, especially this close to the Source. Not even the warded minds of an anointed member of the Order.
“Very good,” the Mother said. “Can you hear me, Jeanne?”
“Mmmmyes Mmmmistresssss” the woman slurred. “Icannnnheaaaar youuuuu.”
Leah shivered with arousal. Fuck yes! She’s already ours! She will serve!
“You’re mine,” the Mother said, smiling cruelly. “Give yourself to me.”
“Yessss,” Jeanne said with a soft gasp—as if she’d surprised herself. She meekly stepped forward, offering her lips, offering her self, and the Mother met her in a deep, violent kiss, arms clasping around the helpless woman as she pressed Her black lips against hers, not easing off, not letting go as Jeanne began to moan in sudden distress. Leah could feel the resonance swell and slosh as it surged between the Mother and Her prey, and Jeanne whimpered urgently and painfully, and the air felt suddenly hot and tempestuous, and the resonance bucked and crashed and spilled—and Jeanne went limp in the Mother’s arms.
The Mother withdrew her lips with a deep breath, and a strand of thick dark liquid stretched between their mouths as they separated. More of it ran down Jeanne’s chin as the woman’s head lolled lifelessly on her neck.
Leah gasped with awe and lust as the Mother's knowledge filled her mind and licked her clit. The Mother had just consumed Jeanne's soul and killed everything good in her—but Jeanne's body would remain human, for now. She would serve only in mind and soul, until a Gift was ready to claim her flesh and turn it into another demonic seedbed like the one that Leah's and Ana's and Ellie's wombs already were.
The Mother let go of her, and Jeanne collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll. The Mother hissed with pleasure, licking her lips as she sensuously drew Her hands down Her body, smearing droplets of black liquid across her naked flesh.
“Your soul tastes bitter, Jeanne,” she said with a mocking smile, looking down at the body. “Didn’t have a joyful life, did you?”
Leah was rubbing her clit as she watched the lifeless form of Jeanne, eagerly anticipating what she knew was coming.
She didn't have to wait long. Jeanne opened her eyes, and Leah gasped when she saw her darkest imagination become reality. She bucked, holding in her breath, stopping herself from pushing harder, waiting for what was about to happen.
Jeanne’s soulless eyes found the Mother, and the soul-servant spread her legs for Her, fingers diving into the wetness between her swollen folds. Her mouth widened into a wicked smile, her expression hard and intense and full of selfish lust and absolute conviction.
“I am willing flesh,” Jeanne promised with burning eyes, and pleasure shot up Leah’s spine and exploded through her corrupted body and set her willing flesh alight with blinding orgasm—and again she came hard for the Mother. And as she screamed and bucked and groaned, so did the others. They all served now. They were the first drops of an unending torrent that would drown the Earth until nothing remained but the wonderful, perfect Chaos that forever ruled their corrupted hearts—Until the Mother’s will burned behind every pair of hot, soulless eyes—Until the world had been freed from the illusion of compassion and mercy and goodness—Until every last human being had been corrupted and claimed and finally turned into the one and only thing they were meant to be:
The mother smiled. Her flesh-servants lay draped around her, naked skin glistening in the candlelight as they gently heaved with pleasure. They were soulless, obedient flesh. The pathetic human beings that had once inhabited those bodies were dead; all that remained was the evil that lived in every man and woman’s heart—no longer caged and shackled by the filthy divine spark that was called the soul. They were glorious. Soon, the whole world would join them and finally become what it had to become: Hers, and nothing else. This was the dawning of a new age of lust and chaos. Her age.
For a short moment she remembered the lives she had lived, and it already felt like it had never happened. It certainly hadn’t mattered. Nothing about her worthless lives had ever been worth giving a shit about. Her job, her future, her friends, her family. Sam’s dad. Mina’s wife. Jordan’s sisters. All that love, all that attachment, all that anxiety. Fucking pathetic. She was so glad to be forever done with it.
She commanded her serving flesh to follow as she ascended into the university library. The sun had already set, but the day was far from over. They strode past the discarded corpses of the last of those that had dared to oppose her, and out of the building. She felt the air tingling with Order magic as they walked down the steps of the library. The rain had stopped, and there were people standing in the grass, their minds caught in the magic that Ana had woven around the library in the moments after she had killed her Mentor and surrogate father. It was still holding strong. There were some newly-arrived police officers outside, and students, as well as people who had just been passing by. The magic had drawn them in, and taken hold of their minds, and subdued them. They were standing on the library front lawn now, still as statues, their eyes looking at nothing. Whoever got close enough to witness what was happening was themselves drawn into their trap.
And now, they were hers.
Her flesh-servants watched raptly with hands between their folds as the Mother began to claim the men and women around them, pressing her dark lips against them and consuming their souls. After overcoming the fortified minds of the servants of the Order, claiming the flesh of mere mortals was almost too fucking easy. She ripped the goodness from their hearts and made them hers, one after the other, and it was a glorious rush.
The first soul soul she killed tasted of depression, courage and wit. The one after that was sharp and bitter—the soul of someone who was full of hate and prejudice already. It tasted like coffee and cigarettes, wonderfully addictive and mature. It belonged to a police officer, and the part of her that was Jordan felt a special kind of thrill and irony in unleashing all his cruelty by removing the little bit of humanity that he had left.
The next one tasted like neurosis and longing. Then came a woman whose soul had almost no taste at all but who creamed shockingly hard once her flesh served. After that, obsessiveness and misanthropy. After that, duty and debt and guilt. One by one, she consumed them and destroyed them and made them serve. She moved swiftly and without any more pause, claiming one innocent soul after another—until only one remained. All around her stood her newly-corrupted flesh-servants, watching on their knees or on their feet, hands down their pants, or pants around their knees, fucking themselves as the darkness in their evil hearts resonated with her will. She felt their cruel obedient fantasies in her mind like shallow waves rolling over a beach of black sand.
She approached her final victim, and recognized her with a smile. It was Maya Wallace, Theater major; early twenties, wool sweater, blonde hair done up in a bad-hair-day-bun. She remembered being Sam, completely crushing on her as they talked and waited for their first lesson in Russian Theater to start. She remembered meeting with her to do stage readings. She remembered going out with her for a drink later that evenin —and she remembered the crushing shame of rejection.
For a moment she simply took in the beautiful face in front of her. Even in a mindless daze, Maya’s eyes seemed awake and alert, as if there was a spark inside of her that could never be fully extinguished. They were the kind of eyes you fell into.
The sight of her eyes made the Mother’s mind diverge, and she was violently reminded of Katie, and Sam, and Jordan—the ones that she had adored, once. They’d had the same kind of eyes. She still remembered it—what she had felt when she’d looked into those eyes: That bright feeling of adoration. That warm, prickling magnetism. That terrified anticipation of at any moment breaking something and ruining it. That overwhelming relief of being accepted and loved.
So fucking pathetic.
“Just another piece of flesh now,” the Mother said with a wicked smile and pushed her lips against Maya's. Dark liquid filled her mouth, and it tasted sweet and bright. She swallowed it down, and notes of ambitious dreams, perfectionism and self-doubt billowed through her senses as she ripped all of it out of Maya and consumed her soul. She held her body up as she went limp, eagerly awaiting the Resonance to fill the newly-created void at the young woman’s core.
None of me wanted this, she thought with sadistic joy. She remembered Jordan and Mina and Sam’s lives, and let the memory run across her wet cunt. She remembered what she used to be, and her dead heart simmered with infinite contempt. Yesss, she thought, as all three of them. They’re gone! They’re dead! Three dead black hearts beat in her chest in mutual agreement and blistering satisfaction, all of them glad that they had died.
In front of her black eyes, Maya’s face became alive with wicked satisfaction, and the young woman’s eyes opened with soulless purpose. “Yesss,” she hissed, and the Mother could feel the resonance at the core of Maya’s corrupted mind. She could feel her cruelty. She could feel all of her depraved fantasies finally being unleashed. She could feel her tremble with lust and she could feel her cunt soaking her panties. She nodded with approval, smiling at the woman whose soul she had destroyed, earning a groan of pleasure from her newborn whore.Maya went to her knees and eagerly joined the rutting, moaning throng of serving flesh. She pushed her hand down her yoga pants and started shamelessly masturbating just like all the other flesh-servants. But this time, the Mother did not move on. This time, she kept watching.
"I know you," the Mother said, and Maya gasped as the resonance filled her with knowledge.
"Sam?!" she asked. "You're..." For a moment, there was genuine suprise in her expression. Then that suprise turned into cold satisfaction. "Yesss! Have me! Take me! Use me! Punish me for ever denying you! My body is yours!"
The mother smiled, and opened her legs—and her whore began to serve with her eager mouth and her fingers. Yesss! You're mine! You're all mine! she thought as selfish pleasure filled her and her mind danced with the wonderful music of absolute purpose. Her cruel and pitiless heart beat to the rhythm of stroking fingers and pulsating lust. Her being was alight with the incandescent glory of her resonance. Around her, she felt the red-hot lust of her thralls surround her like moths around the flame. She was the incandescence at the center of a blazing fire, burning and consuming every fluttering thing that was drawn in by her light—and her mind was that of Sam and Mina and Jordan, holding hands, dancing naked around the clearing as the night sky hung coldly above.
The stars, truly, had aligned.