1 (edited by minstrelofmoria 2022-01-10 03:33)

Topic: Hate

Note: I'm posting this on different sites under different usernames. Just letting you know it's not plagiarism if you find it elsewhere.

There's something shining in the void.

I don't know how that works. The sky and ground are black, yet I can see in every direction. Nothing casts a shadow here. Maybe I see because I expect to, like there's ground because I expect to walk. Or maybe the void is where firefly farts go, for all I know. There aren't a lot of books about this place.

You can walk with intent, and you'll find your way to a place you remember. Or you can walk at random and see what turns up. Random walking brought me to this tiny glint in the middle of nowhere, and maybe someday, random walking will turn up a way out of here.

It's a jeweled ring. Still on the hand, ugh. Someone must have reached through a void portal, and then it closed on them. Well, it's too big for my fingers, so I have no reason to touch a severed body part.

For a second, I think I see another light, somewhere in the distance. But when I look again, there's only blackness.

“Didn't find anything useful,” I call out as I enter the front door.

“Like last time, and the time before,” Par replies. “Sometimes, I think you're just avoiding my company.”

“More like always,” I tell him.

There's always a moment of incongruity, seeing a mountainous brute like Par relaxed in an armchair, reading a book about some long-forgotten war. He looks more like he should be robbing a carriage. But he can't stop himself from furthering his knowledge, even with no way to use it. It's almost admirable. I just have my sword skills, and those have gone to shit since I brought us here.

He sets down his book to welcome me back, but we don't kiss. We've never had that kind of relationship, despite everything else we've done. He holds me close, too tight to escape, and runs his hand down my back towards . . .

This is going to be hard to explain.

I have a cat tail. A long, fuzzy, adorable cat tail. I wasn't born with it, but when I first let Par test his powers on me, he coaxed it from my flesh. I don't keep most of the alterations he grants me, but there was just something that appealed to me about the tail.

It arches upwards at his touch, and he gives it a few firm strokes. “Yet you're always so happy to return,” he tells me. “A hint of bonding, perhaps? An unconscious realization that I'm not the villain you think I am?” He tugs a bit roughly, mixing some pain with the pleasure. “Or perhaps you just love me for my body?”

“Par, I'm not in the mood right now. Maybe later.”

He lets go. He always listens to my “no.” It's a low bar, but it's as close as he gets to progress.
“Maybe later,” he repeats, and he sits back in his chair and waves me off.

This building was never meant as a dwelling. It was actually a library, and books still line the shelves, though some of them are scorched and smoke-stained. I don't know how it ended up in the void, but Par and I had to clean out a few bodies when we found it.

Really, though, we needed a library more than a house. The void is a place of stasis, with no hunger or thirst. Maybe not even aging, though it hasn't been long enough to tell. There are no birds to watch, no scenic mountain trails to climb, nothing much to do unless you like black emptiness. The only thing that's kept us sane is reading about places that are less boring.

Besides, the library was where I found That Book. That alone was worth it.

I skim a random novel, the forbidden love of a heroine and a blackguard. She shows him the light, and he joins her in saving the kingdom. It's pure and chaste and wholesome.

It reminds me of me and Par, and that alone makes me roll my eyes. What drives us together isn't love; it's having literally no one else to talk to. And Par couldn't see the light if I set off a stun bomb in his face. If he could be “redeemed,” if he could be convinced that dominating the weak wasn't the path to everlasting peace and order, I wouldn't have had to tackle him through an unstable portal. I wouldn't be trapped with him. I'd be home again. Probably married to some strapping lad. Maybe with a family by now . . .

I don't even know how long it's been, with no days or nights in this place. Weeks? Months? I don't think it's been years. But then again, how does time even run in the void, compared to my world? Maybe centuries have passed. Maybe the kingdom is gone. Maybe whatever gravestone my comrades gave me has worn down to pebbles.

Did I even get a gravestone? How would I ever know?

I toss the book across the room, not caring enough to shelve it. Then I climb up to the second level and flop down on the bed Par built. I don't need to sleep. In the void, I never really need to sleep. But I want to shut off my brain for a while.

“You're sulking,” Par tells me.

“Gaspard,” I warn.

He thuds down on the bed beside me, his weight distorting the crude mattress. “It's true,” he tells me. “I know I'm not whoever you're missing. You're not the one I miss, either. But we can occupy each other, just for a while.”

I sigh. “Do it. No requests this time. Just surprise me.”

I still remember when Par first caught me reading That Book.

“‘With a final thrust, his member penetrated the velvety folds of her cervix,’” he read over my shoulder. “‘Burning hot cum filled her womb and swelled her belly.’”


“Mere curiosity,” he assured me. “I won't make fun. Much.”

I flipped him off.

He sat down beside me, his hands open in reconciliation. “I've found other erotic tomes in this library,” he told me. “I can bring you something better.”

Well, it wasn't like he could tell anyone what I admitted. “I like the bad stuff.”

He silently waited for me to continue, his expression carefully blank.

“Look, sex isn't bad. But it's not that great, either. Don't get offended; it's true.”

Yes, we'd already experimented a bit by that time. You do strange things when you're stranded in nothingness.

“The bad books feel fun,” I continued. “There's always so much enthusiasm, even when the author has no idea how her own private parts work. So yes, I wish I lived in the world of bad porn. I'd love to have some sex that isn't even possible.”

I'd never seen him smirk so wide. “Is that a request?”

I don't know where Par got his powers. I don't know what ancient scrolls he scoured, what dark secrets he discovered. But I know what he can do to flesh and bone, and my tail swings happily from side to side as he lifts me like a toy. With a single thrust, I can already feel it starting.

He grows within me, slowly at first. My gaped cervix parts without pain, and I sink lower onto his shaft. If I looked down, I would see its outline as it stretches my belly.

My arms and legs tingle and slowly go numb. I know this one. I've never come to terms with the fact that I like it, and I try not to think about what it says about me. I just enjoy my growing helplessness as my limbs melt away to nothing.

I have no way to move myself. All I have left is my tail and my mouth, teeth running roughly across his shoulder, tongue tasting his sweat. He sets a rough pace, using me as his sleeve. A thing, an object. A royally fucked object, stretched almost to my neck, just a thin layer of flesh across his member. I try to moan, but my lungs are too compressed for sound, so all I can do is squeeze tighter.

He's still experimenting with the changes. He thinks he can open me from end to end someday, and let me taste him in my mouth. For now, he comes inside and swells me near to bursting.

He slips me off him, leaving me gasping on the bed. I feel my womb returning to normal as his warm cum gushes out.

“This is what I can give you,” he tells me. “This is what I can give the world.”

“You didn't ask the world,” I pant, restarting our old argument.

“I brought peace,” he tells me. “Each person adapted for their proper place.”

“A place chosen by you.”

“A choice always made by those who have power. Those like me and you. You were smart enough to beat me when no one else could. You could have ruled beside me instead. Tempered my decisions with your own guidance.”

“I shouldn't have to be good with a sword to make you listen!” I yell—or try to, at least. “My mother's a baker, but she's smarter than me! She can make her own decisions without you!”

I don't actually finish saying that. I don't even get halfway through before I start coughing. My lungs are still returning to normal.

“I'm merely testing,” he tells me. “If you can still argue, I haven't fucked you hard enough. Let's go again.”

Par's right about one thing. I really do wander the void to get away from him.

He's not evil. He's sincere about wanting the best for everyone. So why can't he get it through his head that he doesn't always know what's best? He's not some kind of god who can decide that for everyone!

(I can imagine him asking “So why do you keep calling me 'Oh God'?”)

What would he be if he gave up? No, not gave up. What if he stopped forcing and started offering instead? What if he actually listened to people when they told him he was wrong? Could he be a true leader? Could he actually make things better?

Could I love–

There's a light in the distance again.

Luckily, it's past a half-crumbled wall. A piece of some fort from thousands of years ago fell into the void and gave me cover to snoop. Peeking cautiously past the edge, I can see two men with lanterns.

I'm not close enough to hear their conversation, but I doubt I would understand it. They're dressed in an unrecognizable style that's clearly meant for warmer climes than where I came from. One of them is sifting through shards of a pot. He shines his lantern on it, and new designs appear, invisible by the natural light of the void.

He gathers up the shards in a sack, cautious not to damage them. Then his friend makes a gesture, and a portal opens up.

A portal opens up.

A portal opens up.

I can see a room full of artifacts on the other side. Archaeologists, or simple tomb robbers? Approaching them would be a gamble. But no, not just anyone would know how to open a portal out of the void. If I'm lucky, they might even know my language. I could leave with them. I could get out of this place.


I can't take Par. These people don't deserve what he would do to them in his quest for “order.”

I can't kill Par. It's not the war anymore. In the void, he's harmless. I can't just sneak up on him and–

I can't leave Par. I know I'm not as sane as I used to be, wandering the void with nothing but Par for company. What would it be like for him if he was all alone for the rest of his life? Who could possibly deserve that kind of punishment?

The men walk through the portal, and it snaps shut behind them. I don't know if or when they'll come back. I need to think fast.

“Par,” I call out as I enter the library. “I want to finish our argument.”

“Really?” he replies from his chair. “I didn't think you were capable of stopping. I defeat one objection, and you raise a thousand more.”

“In the void, this argument means nothing,” I tell him. “So we'll have it one more time, and then never again.” I plop down in the chair beside him. “You first. Why are you so certain you can perfectly predict everyone's place in the world?”

“I don't need to,” he tells me.

“Excuse me?”

“Look at you,” he says, gesturing towards my face. “Your place is as a leader. It's obvious from my time with you. Yet when I treat you as my pet, are you unhappy?”

“I'm not your pet!”

“That fluffy tail says otherwise. You like being lesser. You enjoy serving my will. It doesn't harm you, and it's not the same as degrading you.”

“So what, you'll just use everyone how you want to?”

“I'll make everyone happy. When I find people who are good counselors, I'll let them into my inner circle. When I find people who are good warriors, I'll redesign them to use their talents to the fullest. And when I find people who have no special skill, my power can give them bodies better suited to hunt, or build, or harvest, or simply raise the next generation.”

I thunk my head down on the reading table. He's never going to change.

“It's not about being perfect, my dear. It's about being better than what we have now. Without my war, you'd have never found your talent with the sword. You'd have labored in obscurity like your mother and her mother before her. And there's no shame in that! The shame is in the degradation, the treatment of what you do as lesser! In my realm, there will be no such thing as the lowly or neglected!”

He gestures grandly with his hands. As far as I can tell, the movements are random and meaningless.

“Maybe I'll miss someone,” he tells me, “someone who could have been a brilliant scientist or an insightful artist. But I'll raise up all I can. And when someone is missed, they won't regret my mistake. I'll treat them as well as I treat you.”

“You win,” I mumble into the table.

He lost, but I can't let him know that. He'll never leave the void so long as I draw breath.

He lifts my chin to look at him. He's trying to be less rough with me than his usual handling. I can almost respect that.

“Chin up, my dear,” he tells me. “I've promised you a place at my side. When I go wrong, you can set me right. And when you go wrong, I'll set you right.”

“It's done,” I tell him. “The argument's over. I don't want to talk about it ever again. Right now, I don't want to talk to you at all.”

“Well, I have a solution to that,” he tells me, running his hand across my face.

My mouth seals shut from the sides, then opens again, vertical this time. My nose shrinks into a small, sensitive nub, yet I feel no loss of air or need to breathe. I have just enough time to run my tongue across the nub, sending spasms of pleasure through my face, before both tongue and teeth melt away into nothing, the passage that was my mouth and throat now only meant for one thing. I feel blood rush to my changed lips, and I begin to drool.

I kneel on the floor, knowing and accepting what comes next. A single thrust hilts deep in my new cunt.

“This is proper,” he tells me, patting my head with one hand. The other takes hold of the back of my neck, pulling me back and then slamming me forward. “This is right. Even without a voice, you can experience this bliss. The rest of the world will feel the same as you.”

Pleasantly stretched around his member, I can't very well tell him otherwise.

It feels like hours pass as we try every kind of sex, on the floor and on the bed and up against the walls. He grows my breasts impossibly large, then opens up a nipple and thrusts inside until I spray milk. He grows my lower clit into a massive cock, and I thrust into my facial cunt while giving myself a boobjob. He returns me almost to normal, then makes a pleasurable hole where my navel ought to be. He reshapes us both in a thousand different ways, until I can barely even remember what my body is supposed to look like.

In the end, he turns himself into something rather like a werewolf. While his warm cum stretches my womb and turns my belly into an orb, his knot prevents a single drop from escaping. “This is your monster,” he growls. “This is your nightmare. A man who cares for you and wants you to be happy.”

I don't say a word, even with my mouth returned. I simply cuddle into him and let myself sleep.

The next time I return from a void trip, I have my tail raised carefully behind my back. “Gaspard!” I call.

“You found something, my dear?”

“I have two surprises,” I tell him. “This is the first.”

Then I kiss him.

With tongue.

Maybe it's stupid, sacrificing myself like this. Maybe I should try to find the archaeologists and get out of here. But this sick bastard deserves happiness as much as I do, and in a strange way, I've enjoyed the time I spent with him. The least I can do is let him have one person he can rule over.

“Hate's a strange thing,” I tell him. “Sometimes, it feels a lot like love.”

I show him the jeweled ring looped around my tail. I cleaned it off after I went back for it, and I'll try not to think of where it came from.

“I can’t propose just yet,” I explain, “but you can think of this as a promise. I’ll keep looking for one big enough for you. Maybe you can put it on the tail you had as a werewolf. We'll get along like cats and dogs.”

His eyes are wide, and his face is bloodless. “This—this is a lot to take in,” he mumbles.

“I hate you like I've never hated anyone else, Par,” I tell him. “I promise to hate you forever.”