A/N: Warnings in this chapter for: violence, blood, gore, verbal abuse, slurs, sexual violence, non-con, rape, genital piercings, anal sex, ass play, defecation kink (mentioned, not shown and not held by any of the main characters), orgasms, butt plugs, and others I may or may not have forgotten.
Chapter 30
Screams echoed off through the halls of Cloud Tower, shaking the walls and cracking the ceilings.
Rage filled those screams. Rage and grief and revenge. Bloom knew the notes of a woman scorned, knew how that rage burned brighter than any other. She could feel it's heat growing closer, sending the temperature in the great hall from a simmer to a boil.
When Darcy finally blew through the doors, her eyes manic with malicious intent, Bloom knew what was coming.
"You fucking bitch!" she screamed, kicking down chairs and blasting long banquet tables out of her way. "You dirty creature! You Succubus whore!"
Icy and Stormy were right behind her, letting their sister take the lead on this one. Stormy had a gleeful smile on her face, ready to hit something; she had a craving for violence, that storm witch. But Icy seemed utterly unbothered, like she didn't know why she had to be part of this show. Only loyalty to her sister kept Icy behind her, fists clenched and ready to unleash hell.
Wrathis was loyal as well, rising to stand at Bloom's side in an instant, his fangs bared and eyes narrowed into hateful slits. The succubus guards around the room pointed their spears in the witch's direction, ready to attack. It was all so unnecessary and dramatic, and quite frankly was ruining Bloom's post-coital glow.
"So kind of you to say," Bloom said calmly. They were compliments, really. She was all those things and more.
"Why did you do it?" Darcy shrieked, another wave of disorienting magic reverberating through the hall. The Army of Decay and its slithering creations shifted and morphed as they picked up on the mistress' mercurial mood. "Why did you kill him?"
"Why did you send him to kill me?"
"They were negotiations."
"There was poison in my cup."
"Whatever Riven did, he did on his own," Icy said, stepping forward to take control of the situation. She clamped one hand down on Darcy's shoulder to keep her quiet, keep her from lashing out in outrage. "We had no knowledge of this."
"Oh, I highly doubt that's true. Riven wasn't the sharpest tool in your arsenal, and you expect me to believe he was capable of using magic to brew a deadly draught specific to my kind?"
"Like I said, we had no knowledge of what he was going to do."
"He wasn't supposed to fuck you."
"Darcy!"
"Oh please, don't tell me a witch of your calibre actually cared about a lump of meat like him," Bloom scoffed and rolled her eyes. Her respect for Darcy plummeted, and she gave her a withering, disdainful look. "That's pathetic."
Darcy's hands shook, her lips trembled. "You'll pay for this, you fucking slut!"
"Come, sister. We will settle this when you are less hysterical."
"You should know, he didn't think twice," Bloom taunted, staring at the back of Darcy dishwater brown head. There was nothing special about this witch, nothing alluring. "Riven was so keen to play the honeypot. He pulled me onto his lap and didn't think twice. I took him into my body and mmmmm - " Bloom broke off a moan, remembering his hands and how they gripped her. " - the way he fucked me..."
Lost in the memory, Bloom didn't see the attack coming.
Bloom didn't think she'd do it. She didn't think Darcy had it in her. But the blast of psychic power shot towards Bloom, deadly and precise as an arrow, came hurtling her way with no time to block it. She could feel the crackle of energy, the devastating power that would fry a greater creature's brain.
Azazel pushed Bloom down and jumped in front of it without hesitation. The bolt hit him, electrocuting his body with violent spasms. He fell to the ground in a steaming heap, the smell of burnt flesh emanating from his body.
In his body, Bloom saw her mother, Abaddon, lying in a pool of her own blood. Dying. Dead. And Bloom could do nothing but watch. Do nothing but hold her hand and make sure the last thing she saw wasn't violence, but the daughter she fought for so fiercely.
Bloom would not watch now. She would do something this time.
"Protect the Queen!" Wrathis roared, summoning his fellow succubi to battle.
The Army of Decay rose to the challenge, creatures squirming and writhing to create great beasts with claws for hands and tentacles for mouths. They growled and keened as they slithered to meet their opponents, thrashing and bashing their clumsy limbs against the prowess of trained warriors.
Bloom worried herself with none of those petty skirmishes. Her real prize was dead ahead, fists clenched inside purple halos. Malice poured off of Darcy in waves, almost as delicious as arousal. Her sisters were less angry, their auras less menacing, but then again, they weren't the ones who had just lost their boy-toys.
This was why Bloom wasn't dumb enough to catch feelings. Start loving the creature you're fucking and then everything goes to hell. Azazel did not deserve to meet his end because some over-stepping, power-hungry hussy couldn't keep things between the sheets.
"You dare attack me!" Bloom snarled as she slashed at Darcy, missing her throat by a hair's breadth. "You dare to attack my servant!"
She plunged her claws into Darcy's chest, pushing through the skin and sinew to the ribcage underneath. Darcy choked, a thin stream of blood trickling from her lips as those ribs cracked and splintered, Bloom's hand a fist around that red, beating heart. She ripped it out, chambers and vessels and all - still beating as Darcy fell to the floor in a pool of her own blood and viscera.
More screams, these of outrage and pain, but Bloom heard none of them.
The power in that heart, the way it glowed...Bloom could feel it calling to her. The Dragon Flame.
Bloom bit into the organ, swallowing the sanguine flesh with fervor. The more she consumed, the more power she gained. Pressure built behind her eyes, a psychic awareness of something on another plane. Something powerful. As she finished the heart, licking her lips and teeth to catch every last scrap, that something came into focus.
A crystal, purple in color with a large bottom and a diamond on top. Thin tendrils of power wrapped around it, delicate as spun sugar. Chaos crackled around it, connected it to two other crystals Bloom could now see around the auras of the other two witches.
So, this was how they managed to siphon my power, Bloom thought, her mind whirling with possibility. I wonder if the process could work the opposite way.
With a mighty pull, Bloom's will overpowered the weakened witches, forcing their crystals to manifest and form a triangle of power. The force when combined was electric, magic arcing out in reds and purples. It fought against Bloom's presence, as if the magic were sentient enough to know something was terribly wrong. Bloom beat it into submission, making it hers.
The words came to the forefront of Bloom's mind, as easy as if they were her own.
"Crystals from Whisperia, dark magic from our kin, reach inside these girls and steal their power from within."
The effect was immediate.
Icy and Stormy screamed and writhed where they stood, their auras siphoned away by the triangle. Darcy's essence was already there, humming and glowing inside her crystal. Slowly but surely, the jagged blue icicle and the three-chambered crystal glowed just as brightly, filled with the power of three former witches. When the screaming stopped and all was still, the triangle shone so brightly it might as well have been a star.
Three sisters all swiftly felled. Victory to Eros.
"The Army of Decay belongs to the succubi now!" Bloom decreed and all her people cheered.
Decay creatures knelt in the presence of their new commander, ready and eager to serve. They would serve Bloom well, for there was always a need for mindless grunts. Why make her own people fall in the front lines of an invasion when she had a whole legion of undying creatures to fall and fall again.
With the Army of Decay, the potential for domination was limitless.
Now, Bloom used the power of the crystals to tap into Stormy's power. Electricity crackled at her fingertips, red hot and seeking. Bloom pushed that electricity into Azazel's prone form, jolting his heart. It took two pulses before the incubus surged back to life, hacking and choking on his breath.
"Azazel, are you alright?" Bloom asked, leaning down to help her devoted servant up.
He had sustained visible damage; the left side of his body from the neck down looked cut up and slightly charred, but he would live. Azazel rose to his feel and stood proud and tall, his eyes fixed on Bloom.
"It's nothing that cannot be healed," Azazel dismissed, his sole focus on Bloom, his eyes roving up and down her body. "I am relieved you are unharmed, Your Majesty."
"You showed great loyalty and courage. Thank you."
"I would lay down my life for you. You know this." Azazel bowed deeply, an act that must have hurt profoundly given the open wounds but he did not flinch. "My life and my love are yours do with as you wish."
Ah yes, the pesky reminder of his unfailing love. While Bloom was grateful for the devotion, his constant bids for her attention and her heart were starting to wear thin. She could not take every kind thing he did coming with strings attached. But was that not in a Succubus' nature? They did not indulge in charity or kindness. Every single act had motive. Azazel's motive was his heart. Bloom would have to play her next moves very carefully.
"Your devotion is admirable, and I am blessed for it. But you have labored in my service silently for too long. You deserve to be rewarded for your actions, for your support, for your loyalty." Bloom's proclamation drew the attention of everyone in the hall. All eyes were on her as she placed a hand on Azazel's shoulder, telling him to rise. "Azazel, for your service to the crown, I consider your debts paid and release you from your servitude. From this moment on, you are free. You may have autonomy over your body. You may take a seat at court. You may choose a mate from our ranks. Congratulations."
Applause broke out, welcoming Azazel back into the fold. He was one with his own people now, an equal. So why did he look so displeased?
"I am shocked by your generosity," he said, brow furrowed, his eyes dark and stormy slits. "But why this reward? Why now?"
His real question: did I do something wrong? Why don't you want me around?
"Your freedom is long overdue."
Azazel's frown deepened further, but he said nothing more.
"Along with the gift of freedom, I promote you to the rank of counselor," Bloom continued, knowing this was laying it on thick, but the risk was calculated. "I have relied on your counsel heavily during my journey from fairy to succubus. Embracing my heritage was a hard road. Yours was the ear I sought after many hard nights, whose words I ached to have in my head even more so than those of my own father. I would be honored to have you sit by my side and shape the future of Eros."
"You would have me as your counsel but not as your mate?" Azazel asked lowly, so that any prying ears may not overhear, drowned out by the cheers of victory and raucous applause. "Pray tell, what exactly is it about that fairy that makes her so much better than me?"
"Do not cause a scene," Bloom warned with a malicious smile. "I am rewarding you with the riches of a king. Try to look grateful."
Begrudgingly, Azazel bowed once again. A show grand enough to fool his peers. "I am unworthy, Your Majesty."
Yes...yes he was. But he was smart, and scrappy, and loyal. Bloom could do with more people like that in her corner. Even if she could not fully trust their intentions.
"Do not let me down."
Bloom turned her attention to the remaining two witches. Stormy lied curled up in a ball on the ground, staring at her sister's lifeless, bloody corpse. Broken was not enough to describe the haunted look in her eye. Icy had her hard gaze fixed to the floor, every muscle coiled and tensed, as if she were trying to squeeze out any last remaining drops of Dragon Flame.
"As the victor of this battle, you are entitled to the spoils," Bloom said idly, looking back at Azazel. "You may have your pick of the witches. Whichever you choose shall be bound to you as you were once bound to me."
Once more, Azazel frowned. "You are more than generous, My Queen, but I require no such slave."
"Ah, but you were the one who taught me that the only way to release frustration is through sexual release." Bloom walked over to Icy and yanked her up by the chin like a rag doll. Guards came over to pin her thrashing limbs as she fought Bloom's hold. "Strip her," Bloom commanded, and the guards wasted no time cutting the layers from Icy's body, her black and blue jumpsuit falling in pieces around her bare feet to reveal unblemished skin pale as snow. Even her pubic hairs grew in fine silver curls, her nipples the palest shade of pink.
"Look at this witch. War has hardened her. Battle has sharpened her mind and her tongue. I'm sure she could handle anything you gave her."
Azazel tightened his jaw, refusing to look at his prize. "Like I said, I require no such slave."
"Come on, spread her legs. Wet your cock. Just the tip," Bloom taunted, grabbing Icy by the cunt and then slapping her across the face. Icy grunted as she took the hit, a bright red hand print rising to the surface of her cheek. When Bloom pulled the hand between Icy's legs away, it was coated with arousal. "I have a feeling this one likes it rough."
Azazel remained unmoved, his cock uninterested and flaccid against his thigh. The utmost of slights a sexual creature could give another being.
Bloom felt her fury mount. She paced towards him, one claw pointed up at the soft, vulnerable skin under his chin. "You will fuck this witch, or I will see you put in the dungeons with the prisoners."
The tendon in Azazel's jaw jumped as he ground his back teeth. Fangs peeked out under his top lip, but he held himself back from a growl. He was smart enough not to disrespect his queen that much. Such an act would warrant his head to be severed from his body, and that would make Bloom look mighty foolish: promoting a creature one second then killing him the next.
More than humiliation, Bloom needed Azazel to fuck Icy. She needed him to get used to fucking other people. Needed him to not need her as much. This codependency between the two of them, this need he had for her, it had to stop. Bloom was mated now, and while a threesome in her mating bed was fun, it felt like more to Azazel. She did not trust him around her mate, and if she could not trust him, then he had no place in her sex life.
It was a power play as well. To get him to bend. To get him to obey. He had far too many liberties with her in the past. It was past time that Azazel thought of her not as princess nor bedmate, but as Queen of Eros. His superior. His better. His sovereign.
Thankfully, Azazel saved his pathetic life and did as he was told. He pushed past Bloom and approached the ice witch.
"No," Icy protested, trying to worm her way away from Azazel. She fought against the guards still holding her arms, bent her neck away so Azazel could not hold her there. "No, please, don't - "
Azazel listened to none of it. He took her by the hips and put her legs around his waist, skin puckering between his fingers where he gripped hard to the bone, and wasted no time on pretenses. He stroked his engorging cock through her folds, wetting himself, lining himself up to her hole.
Funny. This was the first time Bloom saw anything akin to fear stain Icy's eyes.
Icy screamed when he pushed himself inside her, making her take all of him at once. Bloom licked her lips, remembering the divine stretch of him inside her, greedy for the reminder.
"How is she?" Bloom asked.
"Tight," Azazel grunted, thrusting in deeper, harder.
Icy screamed again, so loud it echoed off the ceilings. So loud everyone in the dungeons could hear her.
Azazel took Icy by her hair and yanked her face into his neck, mashing it against his skin until she was forced to breathe his pheromones from the source, calming her thrashing body. Normally, Azazel like the fight. He liked kicking and scratching and fighting. That was why Bloom provided Icy as the perfect choice. To see him subdue her now, turn her passive and submissive until he emptied himself inside her less than a minute later, was...confusing. Irritating. Dissatisfying.
All the succubi watching were also malcontent. They had turned their heads expecting a show, and perhaps some residual arousal to snack on. Instead, the source was abruptly shut off. Icy did not even come and Azazel did not care to see to her pleasure. He merely pulled out and let her legs drop to the floor, limp in the arms of her guards.
He turned to face Bloom, his face an impassive mask of obeisance.
"Have I performed to your satisfaction, Your Majesty?"
It was Bloom's turn to hold back a growl. Technically, he fulfilled his duties and performed them efficiently. There were no grounds for punishment purely for being an ass, though Bloom wished there was, for she wanted to flog Azazel herself. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that pushing Azazel was, inadvertently, giving him exactly what he wanted.
What a shame her former sex slave had to be masochist. It used to be her favorite thing about him.
"Go," she grit out, and refused to look at his retreating backside as he exited the dining hall.
Well, that was quite the hour. Nothing like a battle, siphoning off immeasurable power and claiming an ancient horror as your personal army, and promoting your former help to a position of immense power to start the day off right.
Bloom needed a drink. And a fuck. Immediately.
"What shall we do with the witches, Your Majesty?" Wrathis asked, appearing at her side like a trusty shadow. At least he had not disappointed her.
"Take the ice witch to Azazel's chambers and the storm witch to the dungeon."
Wrathis nodded, and the guards quickly scooped up the catatonic Stormy along with the limp-limbed Icy. No doubt they would hate their new homes, but they were harmless worms now, not a lick of power to their names. Fair turn around, Bloom thought, for the way they'd left her on Eros. Unlike Bloom, there would be no family to take them in and no one to train them. They were alone. But they had each other. Bloom gave them that kindness, at least.
...
When at last Bloom could return to her chambers, Flora was waiting for her.
"I heard screaming," Flora said, standing up from the vanity and walking Bloom's way. Bloom met her mate half-way, tucking her face into Flora's neck and breathing in that wonderful, floral scent. As soon as it hit her nostrils, Bloom's world became blessedly simple. "Is everything alright?"
"Fine, flower," Bloom soothed. She didn't want Flora tainted by the horrors of battle - at least, not any more. Those days were behind her mate. As far as Flora knew, nothing bad would ever befall her again, and she would spend her days eating fine food and being well-fucked.
Flora hummed, not convinced but content to let Bloom handle things. Bloom was grateful for Flora's deference, for letting her handle things. It was one of the things Bloom had come to admire most about her mate's growth. Flora had been so worried at the start, and now...now she was flourishing.
When Flora pulled away, Bloom watched the way her robe shifted, the way the fabric pulled unnaturally across Flora's chest, as if something were in the way...
"Let me see."
Flora dropped her robe, revealing her newly-bejeweled body. Two barbells ran through pert, pink nipples, and true to Bloom's desires were decorated with delicate end chains of diamonds. These chains brushed the swells of Flora's breasts and created soft chiming noises as she walked to the edge of the bed.
Bloom couldn't help it. She had to reach out and touch.
Her mate moaned at the contact, her nipples peaking into hard pebbles. Bloom didn't dare push Flora any further, not while she was healing. Even if the healer had placed spells to accelerate the recovery time, Bloom would not harm her mate. Still, all Flora did was moan and push her breast further into Bloom's hand until Bloom was forced to step away.
"Lie back."
Flora did as she was told and crawled atop the bed until she was seated with her back against the headboard. There, she teased her mate by keeping her knees closed, a playful expression on her face, until Boom let out a low growl. There would be no teasing, not yet. Bloom's restraint was barely holding on, and if Flora kept her waiting a moment longer, Bloom was going to rip those knees apart with her claws.
Then, when Bloom couldn't take it any longer, Flora opened herself like a flower in full bloom.
Between Flora's legs lied the true treasure: a vertical barbell that went through her clitoral hood so that the top bead - a diamond - rest against the hood and the bottom bead - a round, pink diamond the size of a pea - pressed against her clit.
"You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now, flower," Bloom said, her voice reduced to a primal rumble. Flora shivered, already overstimulated from the pain and the hypersensitivity. If Bloom so much as blew on Flora's clit right now, the fairy would come like a fountain until she cried. Penetration was unthinkable. "But I won't. We will give your body time to rest."
These upcoming days were going to be torture.
"We will have to find other ways to satisfy our needs..." Bloom mused, cupping the globe of Flora's ass down between the cheeks until a finger pushed against her puckered hole. "Tell me, flower, have you ever tried anal?"
Flora's eyes widened comically wide. Bloom took that as a no.
"Don't worry, I'll prepare you."
She waved her hand over Flora's abdomen, removing all waste from her mate's body so she didn't accidentally shit herself. Bloom had made that mistake her first time doing anal, but the Succubus she was fucking had a thing for being defecated on. He told her, after, that it was one of the best fucks he'd ever had. Bloom had no such proclivities, and Flora would thank her later.
Then, Bloom magicked up some lube. Virgin assholes were always tight, and always worth the prep.
Careful to retract her claws, Bloom poured the lube onto her fingers, warming it between her hands so that Flora would not flinch from the cold. One digit reached down and circled Flora's hole as she had before, but this time with more pressure. Until that digit breached Flora's hole up to the first knuckle. Flora gasped and squirmed, but let Bloom push in further, let her move that finger in and out until she was humming with pleasure.
A second finger was next, then a third. By the fourth, Flora was gasping, hips arching up off the bed as she pressed down into Bloom's hand, trying to get more.
Bloom laughed. How greedy her mate was. How eager to be fucked. She loved it.
Bloom scissored her fingers, opening Flora up wide. Her mate moaned and cried, begging for cock instead of fingers.
"Please," Flora gasped, hands twisted in the sheets. "Please, Bloom. Fuck me!"
"I will, flower. I will. I promise," Bloom soothed, pulling her fingers out and wiping them on the sheets.
She pulled her mate in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that was more tongue than lips. While Flora whined into the kiss, Bloom pulled a toy out from beneath the bed. It was pear-shaped and big as Bloom's fist, heavy on one end and pointed on the other. The heavy end tapered off to a base studded with a pink diamond.
While Flora was distracted, Bloom lubed the toy up and lined the pointed end up with Flora's loose hole. It only took a bit of force to get the thing inside her. Flora cried out as she felt it breach her, bit down on Bloom's bottom lip as it filled her up. The pink diamond at the base of the toy lied flush against her puckered hole, matching the gem at her clit.
"Yes, I like the way that looks," Bloom praised, running one hand covetously over Flora's ass cheek. "Keep that in until I tell you otherwise."
Her hand came down and slapped Flora's ass cheek. Flora jumped, jostling the toy inside her, the piercing at her clit, making her release a startled moan.
"On second thought, you're going to keep that in until you heal," Bloom decided, loving the way Flora's whole body erupted into goosebumps. "Then, when I finally pull it out, we'll count how many times these - " Bloom pinched the skin above Flora's nipples, ran a hand through the curls on her mons pubis, just above her clit, and pressed down, " - can make you come before I put my cock in you."
Words and pressure were all it took.
Flora was coming, whining like a child as she shook through a painful orgasm, legs fighting to close themselves as she fought the waves. Bloom kept them open, kept her clit exposed to the air and the elements, to the breeze she made as she thrashed and cried. So oversensitive was her mate, so in tune to her own pleasure it was unbearable. Beautiful.
Bloom drank her down in waves, stuck her nose between Flora's legs and breathed in the scent of musk and sex as it poured from her mate like a river.