Merrie woke with the realization that she was no longer casting the spells to keep her alive. She thrashed violently trying to regain her senses but the effort only slid along the curve of the barrel and into the puddle at the bottom. Slamming her wrists against the side of the barrel halted her slide just as her shoulder blades were soaked.
She panted as she blinked at the darkness. She could see everything clearly thanks to her shadowy nature but being aware of her tight quarters didn't help.
Her ass was up along the far edge with her weight resting on her shoulders that were firmly against the now-dry bottom of the barrel. She looked up to her pale skin that almost glowed in the darkness. Her trim abdomen crinkled with her position and her legs were splayed opened, braced against the top of the curve and the side of the barrel. Between her legs was her sex, glistening with a few droplets of the remaining lager.
Merrie stared at her pussy. It was as pale as the rest of her body with her outer vulva pressed tightly together in a soft mound with a slit down the length. Her clitoris, the little fold of pleasure, peeked out of one end of the slit. She could also barely her asshole along the ridge of her body with the end of her tail sticking up to trace along the curve of the barrel.
As she watched, her tail wagged back and forth. She felt the tiny muscles of her spine clenching and relaxing with the movement. Each way also pulled at her vulva, tugging them tightly open before the lips closed together. It was a tiny movement but one that felt like a delicate caress of a lover.
She worried her lip as she contemplated pleasuring herself. The others needed her to rescue them, or at least be ready to fight back. At the same time, she was an alpha and desperately needed pleasure to fuel her magic.
Her tail continued to wagged back and forth, peeling and squeezing her vulva open and close. She moaned and reached up. The smooth end of her wrist felt good against her sex, sliding it back and forth against the delicate fold. Shivers of pleasure raced along her skin and she let out a soft moan.
She reached up with her other wrist, putting more weight on her shoulders, and brought it up to her pussy. With both arms, she stroked back and forth as she concentrated on her sex. After a few minutes, she felt the first bit of pleasure tingling along her sex.
Merrie smiled and closed her eyes. She imagined it was someone else touching her with thick fingers. Her pussy tingled and she focused harder on the imagine, pretending it was Bass who towered over her and bent her almost in half as he fingered her.
Her pussy clenched with her thoughts. She stroked her lips harder, working the end of her arm into the furrow of her sex. Every bump against her clitoris felt good but she wasn't enough to set off an orgasm. Instead, it was just a slow build up of pleasure as she pictured Bass back when she was first learning about her powers. He was kind and gentle but still powerful as he drove into her.
She mimicked her fantasy, tilting her body closer to herself as she tried to guide her wrist into her sex. When she couldn't quite find the right angle, she slumped back with frustration. The little heat and pleasure faded quickly leaving only an uncomfortable itch and hungry desire resonating inside her.
Blindly, she reached out and stroked the spigot to the barrel. The metal was cool reminding her that she could escape at any moment.
She glanced back up at her pussy while stroking the spigot. She sighed and tried to figure out how she could masturbate quickly. She reached up again but it wasn't enough. She slumped back and tried again.
After a few triple heartbeats of thinking, she came up with a different way. Taking a deep breath, she spread her legs wide and planted her arms against the bottom of the barrel. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift.
It took a moment to let her mind recall the details of Bass: the way he smelled, the strength of his fingers as they trailed up and down her slit, even the rumble of his voice as he held her close. It had been years since he held her as a bitch but her mind and body remembered.
Her sex grew heated as she imagined it was his fingers pressing against her, grinding her down as he worked her pussy open. It was slowly, like a faded imagine coming into focus. Because it was her fantasies, the edge of excitement and unknown couldn't come to her.
She mentally reached out for her collar. The heavy metal rested against her breasts and clung to her nipple but it also connected to her thoughts with an intimacy that no living being could ever experience again. She found the connection and projected her imagination through it, hoping it would come back as if from a stranger. That was how her commands to herself worked, the collar transformed them into another being's orders.
The images came flooding back through the collar, transformed by the crystal and the metal that irrevocably bound Merrie to herself. They were no longer her fantasies but her mistresses, changed so she no longer could predict every caress and touch. The smells, the taste, and even the shape of Bass had altered into a shadowy-like beast with the taste of sake in the back of her throat and a roughness that scraped against her delicate skin.
As she kept her eyes close, she could imagine monstrous fingers stroking along her slit again. They dragged along the opening and pried open her sex. Fingernails, no claws, scraped along the inner folds and she grew wet as the tiny scratches reported themselves. She moaned as the thick fingers, shaped by her fantasies and altered by her collar, caressed her clitoris and circled around the opening of her cunt. The digits were thicker than she expected but they were also powerful as they dipped into her opening and then out. With every tiny plunge, they transferred more of her gathering juices along the rough skin and lubricating deeper plunges.
Her eyes fluttered open, revealing movement above her. She started to clamp down when an unexpected command came rushing out of her collar.
(Close your eyes.)
It was the command she was about to give herself but it came from the collar before she could build up the thoughts. The intensity and surprise slammed into her. Her pussy grew liquid almost instantly as pleasure fluttered throughout her entire body.
In response, the monstrous fingers drove into her, two digits forcing her opening widely apart as they plunged past the first and second knuckle. She felt the thick ridges of bones and the roughness of the skin against her inner walls as a blast of pleasure. A thump of the creature's knuckles crushed her labia and clitoris before the creature pulled up.
The creature, who longer felt imaginary, rammed his fingers back into her pussy. The digits filled her completely and stretched her outer lips before the knuckles smacked against her opening. It was a rough and powerful but also exactly what she needed to set off her pleasures.
Soon, the creature was pounding into her pussy. A rapid triple beat that smacked against her flesh with little bursts of discomfort blending with the pleasure of being filled by the driving digits.
Merrie moaned and cried out, spreading her legs as far as she could as she pushed her hips up into the hand, meeting each smack with her own thrusts. The ends of her ankles thumped against the barrel as the plunging was transmitted down her useless legs.
A powerful hand gripped one of her thighs right at her knee. It bore down, crushing her leg but also forcing her spine to bend further as it tried to fold her in half. With every degree of bending, the plunging fingers were able to drive deeper into her. Soon, she felt the claws at the end poking against her cervix.
The pain flashed through her body but it was hard to feel it more than pleasure with two thick digits ramming into her cunt. Her entire world became focused on the driving fingers, enjoying every ridge and bump as they dominated her pussy.
She tried to move her leg, hoping that it was just a fantasy, but the grip tightened and she felt the tips of the creature's claws pierce her skin. Blood, no doubt black as night, dribbled down her thigh as icy dribble but it reached the plunging fingers and she could no longer feel it.
The sense of losing control pushed her closer to the edge and she cried out again.
A third hand slapped against her mouth. Before she could wonder how there could be a third one, it had gripped her jaw tightly together and dug it's claws into the side of her face. The grip tightened until she felt her jawbone begin to grind.
Before she could comprehend how a third hand got into her fantasy, the creature pulled the two digits from her cunt.
She clenched her muscles as the emptiness started to fill her.
They plunged back in but there were now three fingers jammed into her pussy. Her efforts to tightened her pussy were pointless as they three digits tore her open and plunged clear to the knuckles, driving the thick fingers stretched her out painfully.
A spark of pleasure raced along her veins, an orgasm about to explode.
(Do not come!) came an unexpected command exploding inside her mind. It has the irresistible power of her mistress, an order she was helplessly to obey.
The orgasm raced through her body but it refused to crest. Instead it filled her as she was assaulted by the three fingers. They pounded into her ceaselessly, driving deep and hard. Her entire body spasmed around it, orgasms trying to set off in a burst of pleasure, but the order kept her body from reaching the crest. Instead each one added to the building pleasure, an agony of ecstasy that swelled inside her.
The hands splattered her juices everywhere, filling the room with the soft patter of cool liquid and the alcoholic taste of her pleasure filling the tiny confines of the barrel.
She flailed her arms and her free leg, trying to do anything as she was pinned and fingered.
More hands, each one tipped with sharp claws and with a powerful grip, caught her limbs and pinned them down against the edge of the barrel. In a matter of seconds, she was helpless as the digits continued to assault her. One even caught her tail and crushed it between fingers while the rest of the palm cupped her buttocks.
Her entire body shook as the pounding grew stronger. Her labia was crushed and bruised by the knuckles that smacked against her soaked folds. Her cervix and inner walls were gouged and scratched but it was nothing compared to the endless sliding of thick bones wrapped in rough skin that assaulted her insides. She could feel her inner lips clinging to the fingers as they drove into her, grasping them as a lover who didn't want to be abandoned.
Merrie cried out into the hand silencing her. She twisted and writhed but with all of her limbs pinned, it was a movement that only empathized her helplessness.
Another orgasm tried to burst inside her. She felt it rise between the waves of pleasure that assaulted her cunt and then reach a crest but her body refused to push over the edge. It added to the storm of pleasure that wracked her body. Her muscles jerked and tensed helplessly but she couldn't do anything.
Tears ran down her cheeks. She sobbed helplessly as she was assaulted by her own fantasies. It was more than she expected but now she only wanted to let the orgasm rush through her, but her own collar wouldn't let her.
Her breasts shook with the violent pounding. Her entire body had focused on her abused cunt as she was filled and empties, pried open by the three digits that dominated her world.
And then she felt a pressure against her asshole. It was a claw. It took her a moment to realize it came from the hand pinning her tail between two digits. She could feel the creature's grip tightening on her buttocks as the pressure increased on the her tight sphincter.
The idea of having sharp claws in her bowels brought an intense fear that heightened the pleasure of the still plunging fingers. She tried to clamp down on her vulnerable opening but the anticipation of being ripped open set off an orgasm that refused to crest.
Crying out, she could do nothing as the creature slammed its thick thumb into her asshole, tearing it open and driving clear to the third joint in a single thrust.
With the pressure of the thumb now filling her ass, the three fingers were suddenly a lot tighter. That didn't stop them from driving harder and faster, forcing their way into her body as her insides strained to contain them inside her body. Sharp bursts of pain, her insides ripping, flooded through her. It swirled into the pleasure of having two holes filled completely.
She sobbed and cried out, another orgasm crushing into her. It was getting hard to breathe. Her entire body was pinned against the inside of the barrel as she was raped by her own fantasy.
(Please!) she begged her collar, sending the command. (Please let me come!)
It felt strange begging her own collar, herself as a mistress.
When the thought came back, it wasn't what she expected. (You cannot come. If you do, the others will know.)
She thought about the warriors and priests outside of the house. Her orgasms always rippled out to the submissive people around her, setting off their own pleasures as she lost herself in the ecstasy of her own orgasm. Her ice ran cold as she thought about her own need for power ruining any surprise.
Sobbing, she fought against the orgasms that were already raging inside her. They were right at the edge, an explosion that would reach as far as the shadow lands and beyond if she came. There was no way she could stop it, no way she could halt it anymore.
She cried into the hand silencing her. Her body shook with the threatening orgasm that wracked her.
Merrie waited for more commands or orders but none came. With every second passing, her world sank further into the three digits plunging into her abused cunt. Every thrust scraped against the insides of both of her holes as her body was crushed against the thumb that pinned her asshole against the side of the barrel.
It was too much. Tears ran down her cheeks. (Please! Please! Please!)
Her mental begging only emphasized her helplessness and set off the orgasms that refused to crest. Her body was drooling, splatters of her juices rained down on her face and traced along the curves of her body. Her nipples and clitoris ached, her muscles were tense as they fought against the countless hands that pinned her into place.
(Only for me,) came the answer in response to her begging, (come only for me.)
It was her voice but her mistress' thoughts. She realized it was the collar changing her begging into a command, but she didn't know how, only that it was still her thoughts and her mind that guided her.
But it also gave her a release. With a sob, she reached out for the collar in her mind. She clamped down on it and let her entire world focus on only it. The rest of the world faded away until there was nothing but the orgasms boiling inside her and the connection to her mistress. She was going to channel everything into the connection, every iota of pleasure, every orgasm threatening to burst.
The command to let her come didn't come. She waited for it, sobbing as her body was wracked with pleasure that refused to crest.
Then she realized she had to ask. It had to be her begging that were transformed into the order. (Please, mistress! Let me come!)
Her body spasmed again as she waited the heartbeat for the response.
(No.)
The order redoubled the pleasure inside her. She bit down on her tongue as she was wracked with intense pleasure.
(Why—)
(Come for me!)
The sudden reversal of orders left her stunned.
The world exploded.
Pitch-black pleasure exploded through her veins, countless orgasms going off at the same time. It ripped through her body, flooding every centimeter and every cranny as her body tensed into rock-like hardness. Her pleasure shot through her mind and funneled into the collar.
The collar took it. Sucking it in as fast as it poured out of her body. She became a channel, a hose. The rush of ecstasy racing through her mind left her stunned and reeling.
It never came out the other end of the collar. Her, as her mistress, never gained the pleasure. Instead it stopped somewhere deep inside the collar, gathering or dissipating, she didn't know.
Orgasm after orgasm wracked her body, plunging her into a world of darkness. She strained against the claws pinning her as she jerked violently, a vessel for the pleasure that slowly drained out of her.
It felt like forever before the last spasm rushed out of her body. She slumped down against the barrel feeling limp and liquid. She couldn't open her eyes still but her body felt like it was melting with the afterglow of her orgasms.
Sometime during the pleasure, the claws had disappeared and no longer pinned her.
It didn't matter though as she splashed along the bottom of the barrel. It took only a moment of focus to open the spigot and pour out of the barrel, slashing on the ash-covered ground of the basement as a shadowy mist.
She swirled for a moment and then pulled herself together, forming her shape into the naked woman who had pulled herself from oblivion once before.
(Open your eyes,) she send the command through her collar. This time, the order came back unchanged and she opened to look around. Panting silently, she sat on her haunches and looked up at the night sky above her. It was a dark night with storm clouds boiling above her. No moonlight threatened her in the burnt-out pit of the mill house and her former home.
Merrie breathed in the scent of burnt wood and blood. There was so much death and destruction around her. A battle that had been lost. Her friends and lovers may have been fatally injured in the process but the war wasn't over yet.
Reaching out with her mind, she scanned her surroundings. There were four patrols of warriors and priests around the house but the bulk of the army had moved on, no doubt to Lemetri's Grave.
Movement in the corner of her vision drew her attention. She looked toward the pile of burnt timbers and broken barrels that covered her shelter. There was something inside it, something dark and powerful.
Claws reached out from the darkness. They were glistening with her juices and stained with her pleasure. She knew them, she knew the shape of the hands and the body that remained out of sight. It was one of the shadow kin, one of her children.
(Shadow Maker,) came the questing thought of her child.
(My child.) She smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. (Thank you.)
(I serve you.)
She thought about all the sacrifices the shadows had made for her, the ones who had died.
(I will die for you.)
Merrie realized that there was nothing she could do about it. They were her children, they were the countless spawn of her powers and the light of Lemetri impregnated by the darkness of the Lord of Shadows. They were her children. They were also her army.
She focused her attention inside her. Her injuries were still there but her skin was renewed and she felt the boil of darkness swirling inside her. Her orgasm and sleep had given her back some measure of her powers.
Merrie looked up at the clouds. (They are going for the corpse.)
(We are born from the light.) There was a prickle of concern from the inhuman thoughts.
(They are going for your father, the Lord of Darkness. They will kill the others in the process of trying to recover Lemetri's corpse. They only see us as darkness and evil.)
She turned back to the kin. He was looking at her with black, shimmering eyes the color of the abyss. There were thoughts, alien but close enough to her own that she could feel the protectiveness rising. They would die for the Lord of the Shadows as much as they would for her. They would also sacrifice themselves for Lemetri's corpse, the light that created the shadows they needed to be given life.
Merrie took a deep breath. (They won't listen, not yet. Bass said they were blinded in their quest, which means only one thing, we have to fight again.)
(I will kill for you, my mother.)
She smiled and transformed into her Bel Dark hound form. (Then let's go to war.)
Reaching out, she gathered the darkness to reform her cloak.
To her surprise, the kin stepped up and sank into her summoning. A different type of power rushed into her mind, writing out in calligraphy a complex spell of darkness across her mind. It was like the spell to create the cloak but it integrated the kin's life into it.
Merrie hesitated for only a second and then accepted the gift of her child. Her focus gathered on the kin and she pulled. The energies broke apart and then flowed toward her in a stream of darkness. It raced along her fur with a thousand claws. The memory of the spiders' legs rose up but is was different.
The kin's body plastered itself against her, forming into a thick shell of hardened darkness. It's countless claws plastered over her ass, sex, and breasts. They gripped her through, shoulders, and sides before hardening into a stiff armor of darkness. Tentacles wrapped around her body, reinforcing joints and sealing up the gaps. As the last of the claws covered her face and formed a canine helm, the kin's wings wrapped around her chest and sealed into place.
The spell solidified into armor, but an utterly different one than the power that Sable had used. She flexed her paws and the armor moved. There were no openings in the juices. She could also feel one finger of the kin's claw impaling her pussy and her ass. The sharp points of more claws were peppering her skin, not enough for pain but to tease the masochistic side of her pleasure.
(T-Thank you.)
(You are my mother.)
She jerked at the response. (You're alive.)
(Yes.) With the response came an insight into the spell. It didn't kill the shadow kin like she thought but instead reshaped it with the fluid nature of shadows. It could separate from her much like her cloak could pull away in combat.
She smiled, tears in her eyes. (Thank you,) she project again.
(Kill?)
(Yes.)
She let her body and armor melt into darkness and flowed toward the edge of the ruined mill.
She had friends and lovers to save.
And a ground to paint with blood.