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sluttyten · 2 months ago

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Little Shop of Wonders

Kinktober Day 8 | Kun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: sex pollen, free use, consensual free use, fuck toy, shower sex, lots of cum, facefucking, masturbation, bukkake, cunnilingus, blowjobs, slight exhibitionism, subspace

length: 5971

The bell over the door jingled as you pushed it open, stepping foot inside the shop.

You’d never noticed this place before. An old shop with big glass window displays filled with plants and crystals, its heavy wooden door recessed from the street, an old brass lantern hung above the door offering only a small puddle of flickering light over the doormat.

“Welcome,” the doormat had scrawled across it, “to the Little Shop of Wonders.”

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it was a cool, damp October night, and the shop looked like a dry place to wait for your boyfriend.

Kun had an appreciation for magic. Usually, he favored card tricks, sleight of hand, but he’d shown you before that he was intrigued by more magical magic. He would like this place, too, so you texted him the address since he was already on the way to pick you up from work.

From deep in the recesses of the store, you hear a woman’s voice call out, “Welcome! Have a look around, and I’ll be there to help you shortly!”

The store is very old, if you had to guess. The floors are hardwood, bleached by ages of sunlight, dry and dusty with each step you take. The boards creak, and even when you pass over a thick rug, the floor groans beneath you, belching up dust. Dried flowers and herbs hang from the rafters. Strings of lights drape the edges of the room, occasionally cross-crossing the space in between. You spot more of those brass lanterns hanging at the ends of heavy wooden bookcases, the shelves of which are weighed down with heavy tomes and knick knacks that range from crystals and cute animal carvings to disturbingly realistic wooden figurines of people and a skull with a candle melted atop it.

This place gives you the creeps while simultaneously pulling you in deeper. It feels like magic. It tingles over your skin, smelling sweet.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking around before you hear the door jingle in the distance.

You bump into a viney potted plant on the floor, and a cat bolts out of the shadows, streaking through a gap in the shelves. You follow the cat, discovering that it’s leading you back into the center of the store from where you’d drifted to the back edges. You can see the front door, the misty blue twilight sky outside the front windows.

Kun stands in the doorway, framed by that eerie light, though the light of the lantern glows on his face, radiant.

“There you are,” he says with a grin, stepping inside the store fully. “What kind of place have you found?”

“Welcome to the Little Shop of Wonders,” says the same woman’s voice as before, although now it sounds as though she’s floating above you.

You twist around, looking up at the ceiling, and you find her. She’s a wiry older woman, her curling gray hair tumbling around her shoulders, a long skirt and apron swishing around her legs as she very carefully balances and navigates her way across the beams.

When you look back at Kun, he’s watching her with a bemused expression, which shifts to that of one impressed when the woman leaps down from the beam and lands lightly on her feet.

She brushes her hands off on her apron, and looks at the pair of you with a wide, warm, inviting smile on her face.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” Her hands go to her hips, and she looks the pair of you over, her gaze studying the way you gravitate towards each other. “What can I help you with?”

“Oh.” You and Kun glance at each other, and then you say, “We’re just looking around.”

The woman nods her head. “Of course! If you look long enough, whatever you’re meant to have in here will jump out at you.”

You take Kun’s hand, and for a little while you browse the shelves, occasionally coming across a cat or the witchy woman herself, humming as she passes through different areas of the shop.

Finally, after you feel that you’ve spent nearly an hour together looking at the small oddities and interests in the store, you realize that it’s time you leave so you can get home. But Kun’s interested in the live plants the woman has sitting beside a window towards the back of the shop. He brushes his fingers along a blush pink leaf, lifts his fingers along the stem, and cups one of the curved bloodred petals.

“I’d be careful with that one, if I were you.” The woman appears suddenly at your elbow, nudging her way between you and Kun. She cups the plant’s pot in her hands, lifting it gently. “This one’s a powerful aphrodisiac. Quite a strong stimulant.”

Kun peeks at you over her head. You stifle a giggle against your hand.

“Doubt me if you like,” she warns, “But this plant’s pollen is known to cause intense arousal when ingested. Whether that means if the residue is on your skin, or if it’s contained within a bottle of honey.”

Suddenly she’s lifting a hand, a small vial of glinting golden honey sits in her palm.

“Are you saying that’s a bottle of sex honey?” You ask, trying to keep from laughing.

The woman’s mouth tightens. “Yes, dear. Essentially. A taste of this honey, and you and your boy would be bound to fall into bed together. THat’s why I have it labeled for sale over in the love and sex section of the shop. Now, if you ingest the pollen directly, say if he were to lick his fingers now after having touched the plant, the effects would be much stronger. Arousal lasting days, possibly.”

Again, Kun catches your eye over the woman’s head, and you watch your boyfriend daringly lift his hand to his lips, and he pops his index and middle finger both into his mouth.

“Oh, darling….” The witchy woman shakes her head while looking at Kun. She quickly sits the plant back down among the others, and she waves her hand towards the front door of the shop. “You should leave now. Good luck. And you, my dear,” she says with a look in your direction, “You may want to purchase a bottle of the honey, just so you can keep up with him.”

“I think we’ll be fine, but thank you.” You wrap your arm around Kun’s and walk towards the door with him, calling over your shoulder to her, “Maybe if this goes as well as you’re promising, we’ll be back for some of that sex honey.”

You swear that instead of swinging gently shut as it had when you opened it, the door slams behind you as you and Kun step out onto the sidewalk outside the Little Shop of Wonders.

“Come on.” Kun slides his hand down into yours, leading you away to where his car is parked. “Let’s get home.”

On the ride home, you both laugh about the woman’s warnings. It just sounds so silly, the things she was saying. Kun keeps sucking on his fingers, saying that he’s still waiting for it to kick in like she promised, that from the sound of it, he’ll need to fuck you as soon as you get home, but it must be slow acting. “I’m not even a little bit hard, yet. Maybe her plant isn’t working right. Not that I need the help, but she’s made it sound like one taste of the pollen and I’m going to be rock hard for days.”

You laugh, tipping your head against the seat to watch as Kun flicks his tongue between the V of his index and middle finger. “Kun, I promise, if you’re rock hard for days, if this pollen truly works as well as she’s said, you can fuck me however, wherever, as often as you want.”

“I have free use of you?” Kun’s teasing, looking over at you as he rolls the car to a stop at a light. “You’d be my little fuck toy?”

“Anything for you, Kun.” You’re playing, but some part of you is actually serious. You love Kun. Since you started dating him, you’ve wanted him a ridiculous amount. It’s only because you can’t constantly be on his dick that you haven’t let on to him how horny you frequently are. You’ve tried to tone it down, but honestly, giving him free use to fuck you however and wherever and whenever he likes is exactly what you’ve needed all this time.

If only the ridiculous notion of sex pollen was real and not just the imaginary creation of some batty woman in a mysterious shop.

When you get home, you hop in the shower while Kun starts to prepare dinner.

You’ve been in there for only about five minutes, when the door to the bathroom opens. You pull the shower curtain back a bit, peeking out into the steamy bathroom. Kun’s right there, already climbing into the shower, yanking the curtain back shut behind him as he backs you towards the wall.

“What’s this?” You giggle, reaching for his arm. “Did the pollen kick in or something?”

“Yeah,” Kun murmurs, and then his lips are on yours, his hands on your hips.

You can’t believe he’s really going along with this, playing into it just to have shower sex. You let him spin you around so your chest and cheek are against the wall. Kun pulls one of your arms behind your back, the other you lift above your head to brace yourself a bit.

“Any time, anywhere, that’s what you said right?” Kun confirms as he grinds forward against your ass.

“Mhmm,” you moan, rolling your hips back to meet his movements. “Yes, Kun.”

His mouth moves fiery hot over your bare shoulder, his skin hot against yours everywhere he touches. “Perfect.”

And then he’s thrusting forward, driving his cock between your legs, rutting forward again and again until his cock slides inside you.

With no prep, it burns a little, but you like it. You like when Kun gets a little rough from time to time. Like right now, when he just starts plunging into you with these big thrusts, clearly just chasing his own orgasm. His hand holds yours against your lower back.The shower spraying down on you both has your skin all slippery, your bound hands sliding with each of Kun’s powerful thrusts.

Your moans echo around the bathroom, and Kun’s breaths come hard and fast against your ear.

Kun presses up against your back, pinning you between him and the wall, his weight bearing down on you as he fucks into you. Each press of his cock inside you, each catch of his breath against your ear, the heat in your belly stirs a little more. But it doesn’t stir as quickly as Kun, he cums with his mouth against your throat, his body flush against yours.

One of his hands slides around down your belly, down between your legs, fingers against your clit as he thrusts several more times. Kun fucks his cum deeper inside you, gliding against your G spot while stimulating your clit, and you fall apart in his arms, feeling like you’re dissolving into sweet bliss as he keeps rocking his hips forward and tracing his fingers over your sensitive clit.

He keeps going until you’re whining, until he’s spilling inside you again.

Your legs shake as you actually put them into use again. Kun steps back, leaving you empty and on your own two feet. He rinses off quickly, running a hand down his body, over his cock. You twist around to watch him, biting your lip as you watch his hand run along his cock.

“Keep looking at me like that, babe, and I’m going to have to feed you something other than the dinner I started.” He leans in quickly, dropping a kiss to your lips, and then he steps out of the shower, calling back to you, “Shower quickly, dinner should be ready in a few minutes.”

You finish your shower, dry off, dress in a camisole and cotton shorts, then you head to the kitchen.

Kun’s standing at the counter, chopping a few toppings for the stew he’s made. You walk up behind him, wrap your arms around him and lay your head against his bare shoulder. He’s only wearing sweatpants that hang low on his hips. You run your hand over his bare belly, up his chest, and back down to the edge of his sweatpants.

Kun sits the knife aside.

You turn your head, brushing your lips over his warm skin. Kun lets out a shaky breath. You let your pinky finger tuck beneath the edge of his sweatpants.

“It smells good,” you tell him. “I’m ready to eat.”

Kun’s hand trembles as he picks up the knife again, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, watching as he tries to chop up the last few ingredients. And then you notice.

He’s really so warm, his skin flaming hot beneath your cheek.

“Kun?” You take a step to the side, peering at his face, lifting a hand to his cheek. “Are you sick? You feel feverish.”

His eyes are dark when he looks at you. His pupils are blown wide, and he nearly moans at the cool press of your fingers against his warm cheek. “I’m not sick. I feel fine, except I don’t think that lady was lying about the pollen. I’m still so hard, babe, it hasn’t gone down at all.”

You look down to his sweatpants, at his cock that’s still ragingly hard, tenting the front of his pants.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you lift your gaze back up to meet your boyfriend’s. You swallow to keep yourself from drooling when you say, “I meant what I said in the car, Kun. However, wherever, as often as you like. I can take it. Use me as your fucktoy.”

“Fuck.” Kun sits the knife aside again, and he reaches for you, twisting his fingers in your hair, and he forces you to your knees.

Your mouth drops open as Kun uses his free hand to push his sweatpants down. His hard, heavy cock springs free, already wet at the tip, leaking a crystalline thread of precum. You don’t need Kun’s hand in your hair to guide you; you dive forward, catching the falling bead on your tongue and following it up to the source, sucking Kun’s cockhead in.

That’s when he takes over, hand pressing against the back of your head, forcing you deeper on his cock. His hips jerk forward at the same time, triggering your gag reflex as he hits the back of your throat. Not that that stops him, if anything it encourages him to go harder, faster, and you take it all, hungry for his cock shoved down your throat even as your eyes begin to water, as your jaw and throat ache from the repeated pressure. You slurp around him as he starts to drag your mouth off of his cock. His fingers tight in your hair, Kun allows you a brief breath before he’s fucking back into your mouth.

You’re drooling all over his cock as Kun holds the back of your head, fucking his cock into the deep warmth of your throat. And when he cums, he just keeps going, filling your mouth and shooting down the back of your throat, it leaks from the corners of your lips, and you think you’re going crazy because you want more.

Kun drags you off his cock by your hair.

Spit and cum and tears streak your face, dripping from your chin as you look up at Kun.

He releases his hold on your hair to run his thumb under your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, babe. Get up, here you go.” Kun offers you his hand, and you slide your palm against his as he pulls you up to your feet. “Good girl, now sit down. It’s time for dinner.”

You obediently sit at the table, still a little fucked-dumb, still dripping his cum even when Kun serves you a bowl of the stew he made. It smells heavenly, rich with spices, and you dig in, the flavors of it only made better with the added flavor of Kun’s cum lingering on your tongue.

Kun pretty much inhales his helping of the stew, and he doesn’t even wait for you to finish eating before he’s walking over to you. You’re quite hungry, so you don’t want him to pull you away from the meal, even though you can see his cock still bulging his sweatpants, staining them with a spot of precum.

“Keep eating, babe,” Kun tells you, reaching out to stroke your hair. “You need to eat to keep up your strength. If what the lady said is true, I’m probably gonna be like this for a few days.”

You think back to him sucking the pollen residue off his fingers, licking his hands clean. Who knows how much he ingested?

You eat a spoonful of stew, eyeing his erection out of the corner of your eye. Is he just going to stand there and not take care of it? You look up at Kun, and it’s a horny little demon inside you that speaks with your voice, saying, “You don’t have to wait for me to finish eating, Kun. Until this wears off, I’m yours to do what you want with me.”

His cock twitches in his pants. Kun groans.

“Do you mean that, though? Really?”

You nod. “Anything you want. Within reason. No bringing anyone else into this–”

“I don’t want to share you!” Kun interjects.

You continue, “Nothing that we haven’t talked about before.”

Kun smirks at that. “Well, that pretty much leaves everything on the table, then doesn’t it?” He strokes your hair again. “All I want right now is to cover you in my cum, babe, head to toe. I want to fuck you in every room in this house, fuck you until we both pass out. I want to treat you like my doll.”

You turn back to your bowl of stew. You shrug, “Then do it, Kun.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him draw his cock out of his pants. You watch him start stroking his cock, but you focus on eating your stew, blowing on it to cool it off, taking your time to lick the spoon clean after each bite. You eat the stew like your pussy isn’t throbbing with arousal watching Kun jerk off inches away from your face.

He cums again when you’ve got your spoon halfway to your mouth. Kun’s cum streaks over your cheek, landing in your hair, across your lips, some of it hits your spoon and your hand. You eat that spoonful too, enjoying the extra salty addition of his cum to it. Kun keeps stroking his length, a few last spurts striping your cheek as you reach for the bowl. You lift it to your lips, quickly draining what little is left because as soon as it’s gone, as soon as you’ve sat the bowl down, Kun is pulling you to your feet.

When he moves you so your ass is on the edge of the table, you expect Kun to push your shorts to the side and slide his cock right inside you.

You don’t expect Kun to sink to his knees, for him to tear your shorts down around your ankles, and bury his face between your thighs. He spreads your legs with a hand on each thigh, massaging them as he licks at your pussy, as he fucks his tongue into you, as he sucks at your clit and licks up your wetness as you’re drenching his tongue, writhing against his face, needing more and more.

Kun moans loudly, eating you out in the most noisy manner he ever has.

You cum on his tongue, hands knotted in his hair as you ride it out, grinding against Kun’s face.

“If this is what we have in store,” you gasp as Kun licks a strip up your pussy one more time, “I think I could get used to this. You’ve never given better head, honestly. I need you to be this horny all the time if it means I get eaten out like that.”

Kun scatters kisses over your thighs. “We’re just getting started, babe.”

- - -

For the rest of the night, Kun has you sit on his lap, cockwarming him while you watch a movie together.

Kun’s hands are constantly moving – stroking along your thighs, dipping to touch your clit while forcing you to sit still on him; he pulls the neckline of your camisole down to expose your tits, and he teases your nipples until you’re whimpering and fighting the urge to fuck yourself on his cock. But as soon as you get desperate enough to beg for it, Kun stops.

He’ll have you sit up, kneeling above his lap with just the head of his cock still buried in your pussy as he jerks off, cumming inside you so he can watch it drip back out of your pussy. Instead of letting you cum, when you’re teetering on the edge, he’ll have you kneel on the floor, cockwarm him with your mouth instead so he can cum across your tongue and cheeks again, adding even more to the mess he’d made at dinner. He edges you again, and then he fucks your tits, cumming across them then taking his time afterwards to clean it up with his tongue, feeding it back to you and watching you swallow everything before he returns his tongue to your nipples, flicking his tongue over the hardened buds until you’re rocking your hips up off the sofa restlessly.

Kun cums more times than you can keep track of, and you take all of the cum he gives you, hungrily sucking his cock, feeling him fill your pussy, spreading his cum across your tits with your fingers, moaning as he shoots his load across your back while he’s got his fingers inside you.

Kun edges you through it all until finally your body can’t take anymore, and you cum around him while Kun’s got you riding him. He’s hugging you to his chest, his mouth locked with yours, and he is once again spilling into you when your orgasm finally explodes through you.

You don’t remember him carrying you to the bathroom, don’t remember Kun rinsing off with you in the shower, or when he carries you to bed. You remember only a brief glimpse of his cock finally going soft when he settles into bed beside you.

And you think that’s it.

The sex pollen ran its course.

You’re a little bit disappointed at that thought, truly. When you wake in the morning to pale sunlight, you check on your sleeping boyfriend, and Kun is all spread out beside you. He’s kicked away the sheets in his sleep, and although he still feels warm to the touch, his cock is soft against his thigh.

You know maybe you should feel like you had enough yesterday. The never-ending edging paired with the amount of fucking you and excessive cumming Kun had done should have satisfied you. But you were having fun. You liked Kun treating you like a cumdump.

Maybe you should go back to the Little Shop of Wonders, ask the witch for that vial of honey or maybe purchase the whole sex pollen plant.

You crawl quietly out of bed, pull on a shirt of Kun’s, and you tiptoe to the kitchen to deal with the mess from last night. Neither of you had bothered with the dishes from the stew, which are still spread out on the table. You get to work cleaning, tidying things and doing the dishes.

It’s probably for the best that Kun’s already gotten over the effects of the sex pollen, you think as you finish the dishes from last night and start making breakfast instead. Kun is supposed to work today. He’s got a deadline coming up, so he needs to get in the studio today, and he’d been complaining to you yesterday morning about a meeting he has this morning. He’s got things to do, people to see, he can’t call in sick today because he’s too busy dealing with a sex pollen crisis, though at least the people he’s working with and having meetings with are some of his closest friends; they just might understand the situation.

“Good morning,” Kun says suddenly behind you, startling you a bit, but before you can turn to him, his arms are around you, and his hard cock is against your ass. “I guess this isn’t over yet, babe.” He kisses your cheek. “I thought when I fell asleep that it must be. I’d gone soft, but I just woke up hard as I ever was yesterday.”

He thrusts against your ass.

“So I’m gonna fuck you, babe. But you keep doing what you’re doing, hm?” Kun pushes up the back of the shirt you’re wearing, revealing your ass to him. “God, you’re truly unbelievable, you know that? So fucking pretty, my babe.” And then he’s pressing in, cock pushing inside your pussy.

You brace your arms against the countertop, and you try to keep finishing the breakfast prep you’d been doing before Kun came in. The way that he’s fucking you makes that a little more difficult, but you try, and Kun seems to like that.

“Yes, babe, look at you. You’re taking it so well, letting me use you like this.” His cock twitches inside you.

It’s not easy, that’s for sure.

Your focus starts to slip when Kun pulls your hips back, angling you just right so each of his thrusts is nailing against your G spot. He’s moaning behind you, praising how sweet and tight and warm you feel around his cock. Your pussy just keeps growing wetter and wetter as he reaches up beneath your shirt to grope at your tits, as you try to keep on task even as Kun’s fucking you into delirium.

Kun cums, flooding your pussy, pressing in deep a few more times.

He steps back, and although you try to keep tight, to keep his cum in, you can feel some of it dripping out, sliding down your thigh, dropping to the floor.

Kun pats your ass, then pulls the shirt back down.

“Good girl.” He kisses your cheek again.

He sits down at the table, and a few moments later, the breakfast you were making is ready, so he pulls you into his lap to dine together.

“Kun,” you say after a while, “Don’t you have to go to the studio today? Don’t you have a meeting too?”

His erection is digging into your thigh, unable to be ignored.

“I do, and I was actually thinking about that.” He brushes his lips over your neck. “What if you come with me? This reaction isn’t going away, so I’m going to need to cum regardless of whether you’re there or not. So I could jerk off every five minutes, or you could come along and we’ll both get something out of it. What do you say?”

Twenty minutes later, you’re in the car with Kun. He’s flying down the streets.

Even though his eyes are focused on the road, his driving is worse than usual, though that almost certainly has to do with the fact that as soon as he’d pulled onto the road, he’d tangled his fingers in your hair and urged your mouth down into his lap.

You eagerly sucked at Kun’s cock, stroking him with both hands, leaving kisses along his length, drooling over the tip, choking yourself on him. Kun lays his hand on the back of your head, directing you when he really feels like he needs to. As you draw closer to the studio where Kun works as a producer, he starts taking over, pushing you down around his cock, his hips rising off the seat to drive himself deeper down your throat.

He cums right as he’s pulling into the parking garage of the studio. You clean him up as he navigates to a parking spot, and you wait patiently in the passenger seat as Kun gets out. He comes around to your side, opening the door and taking your hand like a gentleman, and he pulls you into a kiss as soon as you’re both standing outside the car.

He takes you into his studio, sitting you in his lap while he starts working, though that only works for so long. Soon he’s getting distracted by the pressing need he keeps grinding against your ass, so he has you slide to your knees beneath the mixing board. You pull up the sweater you wore, and Kun has you push your tits together around his cock, and he fucks between the softness of them, cumming across your tits and then immediately dragging your mouth around his cock.

You’re still kneeling there beneath the mixing board with your mouth full of his cock when his friend, who is also the artist he’s recording today, walks in. YangYang either doesn’t notice you down there or chooses not to say anything. You obediently keep your mouth around Kun, suckling and shifting on your knees.

YangYang chats with Kun for just a couple minutes, and then he heads into the recording booth.

Kun drags you off his cock, and you look up at him. “Babe, I really need to focus on this recording session, okay? So I’m gonna need you to take everything I give you, no whining or touching yourself, okay?”

You nod, sticking your tongue out, offering your mouth up to Kun again.

“Good girl.” Kun pushes you back down around his cock. You hear him press a button above your head, and then he says, “Alright, YangYang, go ahead.”

You bob your head on Kun’s cock, working your hardest to get him to cum for you, knowing that if he doesn’t cum, Kun’s going to be distracted. All you have to do is keep him satisfied, and then he’ll be focused.

He cums within minutes, but you keep going, and Kun tightens his fingers in your hair. You bring your hands up to his cock too, stroking him into your mouth, letting some of his cum and your spit slide down to lube the way. You’re making a mess of him; his cum leaking out of your mouth is pooling on the front of his pants, but you can’t help it. You’re swallowing around him, swallowing the first load of cum, but before long he’s cumming again, letting out a grunt as you choke around his cock.

“Dude, you good?” YangYang asks from inside the booth.

“Fine. Try that verse again.”

Kun’s hand weighs down against the back of your head, pushing you all the way down around his cock, and you close your eyes, letting him do it. You sink into some kind of state where you’re not asleep, but you’re not fully conscious either. All you know is the weight of Kun’s cock on your tongue, the taste of his cum, the smell of him as your nose is buried at the base of his cock. You can hear his voice, but he could be talking to you or a whole crowd of people, and you wouldn’t know the difference.

Eventually, Kun lets you up again, tugging lightly on your hair.

You gag as you’re pulled off of him, coughing and gasping for breath. Kun’s cum drips from your lips and chin.

“Are you okay?” Kun asks when he takes one look at the dazed expression on your face. “Babe, are you good to continue.”

You nod, feeling your lips form a loose smile.

Kun brings his hand up, wiping at your cheeks and chin and lips. His fingers are gentle beneath your chin as he brings you forward into a kiss. His lips leave yours, brushing over your forehead.

“We’re done with this for now.” He helps you the rest of the way to your feet. “You’re too far gone, you can’t even speak to me right now. If you could see the look on your face right now, my love, you would understand. Don’t pout.” You didn’t realize you were until Kun said that, and you try to tame your expression. He smiles, leading you over to the sofa along the back wall. “Take a nap. You’re amazing, and I love you, and once this all wears off, I owe you something huge.”

You hum, sinking down onto the sofa, laying your head down, and immediately you can feel a tired pull.

Kun strokes his hand over your head, kisses your forehead one more time, and you’re asleep before he walks away.

- - -

You sleep it off there on the sofa, waking hours later to go home with Kun.

He fucks you senseless a few more times that night at home, and when you wake the next morning you stay in bed with him, waiting for him to wake, waiting for him to need to fuck you again, to let you suck his cock again even though you’re pretty sure at this point, your throat is permanently molded to the shape of Kun’s cock.

But when he wakes, Kun just pulls you against his chest. His cock doesn’t grow hard. He just sighs and holds you close, and you’re actually perfectly content with that change of pace too.

But a few days later, as you’re heading home from work, you get the thought into your head to return to the Little Shop of Wonders, to see if that witchy woman will sell you a vial of that sex honey.

The pollen had been a lot. Your body is still aching days later, and Kun swears his balls are sore from how much he came in such a short span of time. But you’ve both agreed that maybe the honey would be nice to have – a less intense version of that that lasts only a few hours wouldn’t be bad to experience from time to time.

You walk down the side street you’d passed down just a few days ago, and you search the shopfronts for the window displays filled with crystals and viney plants, for the recessed doorway with the brass lantern and the ancient-looking wooden door.

But you pass up and down that street three times, checking each shop before you finally give up. It’s not here. It’s as if the Little Shop of Wonders was never here at all, but you know you couldn’t have imagined it.

Weeks pass, you forget about it, too swept up in the holiday season closing in around you. Christmas is just days away, winter staking her claim over the city with a snowstorm blowing in this afternoon, ruining your plans to go shopping for Kun a Christmas present and a birthday present, since that’s a week later.

You’re hurrying home from work, bundled up against the chill, thinking about what you can get Kun that he’ll truly appreciate.

And then, from the corner of your eye through the swirling snow, you see a gleam of bronze. You turn your head.

A brass lamp.

A wooden door.

Large plate glass windows frosted over, but not entirely concealing the displays of crystals and books and a wreath of candles and symbols.

A new wooden sign creaks above the door, blowing back and forth in the wind.

The Little Shop of Wonders sits waiting, promising the perfect present for Kun.

a/n: I could've gone on and on with this one honestly! I was going to write a few more scenes, but it's getting late and I really need to post this.

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#nct smut #nct #wayv #wayv smut #kun #kun smut #qian kun #qian kun smut

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pearlyslopes · 1 month ago

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exe. 1. draft 1 The Fragrance of the Future.

The city hums outside my window—drones zipping through the morning sky, holographic advertisements flickering above old streets. Somewhere down the road, the Ganga flows, though it’s quieter now, the riverbanks reshaped into seamless terraces of glass and stone. Varanasi has changed, but not as much as you’d think. The prayers still rise every morning—only now, they float on mist instead of smoke.

I kneel by the small home altar in the corner of my solar-paneled apartment. It’s a minimalist setup: brass idols resting on transparent shelves, surrounded by floating lamps that glow with soft amber light. At the center sits Agarra, its smooth metallic surface catching the morning light.

"Activate Sandalwood," I say softly, and with a quiet whirr, the device awakens. A holographic flame flickers to life above the altar as Agarra exhales a fine mist into the room. The scent spreads gently, like a whispered prayer—so familiar it tugs at my heart, even though the world that once burned sandalwood sticks is long gone.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. As I breathe in, the fragrance shifts—floral notes weaving through the sandalwood, subtle but precise, as if the device senses the tension coiled inside me. I find myself wondering: Is it faith that brings comfort, or just my voice?

The app on my tablet pings with today’s suggested combination: jasmine for joy, sandalwood for focus. Each cartridge is biodegradable, infused with what they call "temple-blessed nanomaterials". I like to think that somehow, the prayers are carried in the mist now, filling the same air that drifts through this apartment and the streets beyond.

When I visit the temple downtown, the rituals are as mesmerizing as I imagine they were in the past. The walls are lined with Agarra stations, each releasing gentle waves of mist timed perfectly with the hymns. The chants float above the crowd, shimmering light and sound blending with the fragrance to create a synesthetic prayer.

The worshippers move slowly, hands folded, heads bowed, just like they always have. Some embrace this fusion of tradition and tech; others say the sacred has been reduced to circuits and algorithms. I don’t think it’s better or worse. It’s just... different. We’ve traded matches for voice commands, smoke for mist. But the soul of the ritual? That’s still the same.

The sandalwood lingers in the air, and for a moment, everything feels... still. Whole. Faith finds a way—whether carried by smoke, or mist, or something we haven’t imagined yet.

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sleepysak · 1 year ago

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The Bingo Boys* of 2X80- the futuristic D&D and homebrew mashup of a world @samusthedude is DMing!

From left-to-right and top-to-bottom

Daniel's (no tumblr) Stone the Genasi (aka Jasper aka The Rock Dwayne Johnson)

@quaxorascal's Jax the Dwarf (aka Centurion aka "fucking CHUCK?")

My Pétra the Dwarf (aka [REDACTED] aka The Worst Warlock)

@subcorax's Vivian the Half-Elf (aka "oh good he's seventeen")

*(gender-neutral) Descriptions under cut! (Thank you iz!!)

[ID: four full-colour digital portraits of D&D characters, drawn in a style that is evocative of paintings. The first portrait is of Jasper Stone, an earth genasi man. Stone stands in front of a chain link fence at night, looking forebodingly at the viewer. He is wearing a dark grey jacket that covers his entire upper body, with a black hood over his head and a dark grey respirator mask over his mouth and nose. An automatic rifle is held to his back with a black cross-body strap. His short-cropped hair is black, and what little skin is visible is grey and subtly cracked like stone. His eyes are brown, including the sclera. A yellow-toned spotlight shines above Stone, illuminating him and the dust that floats around him.

The second portrait is of Jax, a dwarf man. Jax leans one arm against a wooden bar. The wall behind him has bottles and barrels of various alcohols on shelves. Jax is has brown hair with an undercut and a bun, light skin, bushy eyebrows, hazel eyes, slightly pointed ears, and a full beard, with a braid starting from his cheek and the whole beard bound together with two brass-coloured metal bands. He has lots of dark hair elsewhere on his body as well. He is wearing a black shirt under a blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with the front of his shirts tucked into black denim pants; he is also wearing a dangly brass earring, as well as subtle blue eyeliner and black nail polish. Jax is cleaning a beer glass in his hands with a cloth, his chin raised to listen and watch around him.

The third portrait is of Pétra Carpenter, another dwarf. They have their arms folded on a table; the angle of the drawing is as if the viewer were sitting at the table next to them, and they are looking toward the viewer. They have long dark brown wavy hair worn loose down their back, bushy eyebrows, brown eyes, a round nose, slightly pointed ears, and a short beard. They also have dark body hair on their arms. They are wearing a black denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off, over an old white t-shirt, and fingerless gloves; they are also wearing a black stud earring and a grey trucker hat with text on the front that reads: "in dog years, I'm dead". Pétra grins at the viewer and flashes a peace sign over the bicep of their other arm. Warm light filters into the room from over their shoulder; meanwhile, a shadow in the rough shape of a person looms behind them where the light doesn't reach

The fourth and final portrait is of Vivian Renée, a skinny half-elf teenage boy. He is standing in front of a convenience store at night; a neon sign in the window says "open". He has unevenly-cut straight brown hair with a stark white streak, brown skin, thick eyebrows, green eyes, a long and straight nose, and pointy ears. He is wearing a white cropped jacket with orange trim and rolled-up sleeves, over a black 100 Gecs t-shirt. He is holding his phone close to his face with both hands, and looking at the viewer with an annoyed expression. /end ID]

#sleepy-art #idk what the fuck else to tag it #but hey its these assholes!!!#if youve seen me tag anything 2x80. petra. or van gang. its regarding these guys!!#van gang is petra and their npc besties tho from their backstory #but ya once again thank u iz for yelling at me to actually post them #as u can see by the date on the signature #its been over a year #oops.

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iknicinterior123 · 4 days ago

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10 Stunning Pooja Room Designs for Your Home

A home is not just a structure; it’s a sanctuary of peace, love, and spirituality. Among the many corners that define our living space, the pooja room stands out as a sacred haven where devotion meets design. This dedicated area serves as a personal oasis for prayer and reflection, embodying both tradition and modernity in its style. Whether you are looking to create an inviting atmosphere or simply want to enhance your existing setup, exploring diverse pooja room designs can inspire creativity. From traditional motifs to sleek contemporary aesthetics, there’s something for everyone when considering pooja room design for your home. Join us on this journey through ten stunning ideas that will elevate your spiritual retreat while harmonizing with the essence of your abode.

Traditional Modern Pooja Room Designs

Traditional pooja room designs evoke a sense of heritage. Rich wooden carvings, intricate motifs, and vibrant colors often characterize these spaces. They reflect the cultural depth and spiritual significance tied to rituals. Elements like marble flooring and brass artifacts add to the timeless appeal. Conversely, modern pooja room design, focus on simplicity and functionality. Clean lines, minimalistic decor, and neutral palettes create a serene atmosphere conducive for meditation. These spaces often use innovative materials such as glass or metal that blend seamlessly with contemporary interiors. While traditional rooms exude warmth through elaborate details, pooja room wooden frame, modern designs offer tranquility through understated elegance. Homeowners may choose one style based on personal preference or even merge both styles for a unique aesthetic experience—ensuring their sacred space resonates with their beliefs while matching their living environment beautifully.

Minimalistic Pooja Room Ideas

Minimalistic pooja room designs embrace simplicity while maintaining a serene atmosphere. This approach highlights essential elements without clutter. Choose a sleek, wall-mounted shelf to display your idols and sacred items. pooja room door design latest, A light color palette enhances the feeling of space and tranquility. Incorporate hidden storage solutions for essentials like prayer books or incense, pooja room design for home, ensuring everything has its place. Natural materials such as wood or stone can add warmth without overwhelming the senses. Consider using sheer curtains that allow natural light to filter in gently—creating an inviting ambiance during prayer times. A small indoor plant adds life while promoting calmness and harmony within your sacred space. Remember, less is more when designing a minimalist pooja room; focus on what truly matters to you spiritually.

Incorporating Nature into Your Pooja Room Design

Bringing nature into your pooja room design can create a serene and calming environment. Consider adding indoor plants like peace lilies or snake plants to enhance the spiritual ambiance. Natural materials play a vital role too. Wooden shelves, bamboo accents, or stone idols give an earthy touch that connects you with the outdoors. Incorporating natural light is essential as well. pooja room door design for home, Large windows or skylights allow sunlight to filter in, illuminating sacred spaces beautifully. Water features can further enrich this aesthetic—think small fountains or decorative bowls filled with water and floating flowers. cost of pooja room door, The gentle sound of flowing water adds tranquility. Artistic elements inspired by nature also work wonders. A mural depicting lush landscapes or intricate carvings of flora can transform walls into peaceful retreats for meditation and prayer.

Creative Use of Lighting in Pooja Rooms

Lighting plays a crucial role in enhancing the spiritual atmosphere of a pooja room. Thoughtful placement of lights can transform the space into a serene sanctuary. Consider using soft, warm lighting to create an inviting ambiance. LED strip lights along shelves or behind idols add a modern touch while maintaining reverence. Decorative lamps and candles bring warmth and charm, especially during rituals or prayer times. They not only illuminate but also contribute to the overall decor. For those with wooden latest pooja room door design , accentuating wood textures with gentle lighting highlights natural beauty. Dimmer switches offer versatility; adjust brightness according to your mood or occasion. This allows for intimate gatherings or quiet reflection moments seamlessly. Incorporate colored lights subtly for special occasions without overwhelming the sacred essence of the space. The right lighting choices elevate both design and devotion in your home’s pooja area.

Multi-functional Pooja Room Spaces

Multi-functional pooja rooms are a perfect blend of spirituality and practicality. They maximize space while ensuring that the sacred atmosphere remains intact. Imagine a corner of your living room transformed into a serene pooja area, complete with an elegant altar and comfortable seating for meditation. This type of design allows for both worship and relaxation, making it ideal for smaller homes. You can also integrate storage solutions to keep your religious artifacts organized. pooja room design wooden, A built-in cupboard or shelves can house everything from prayer books to decorative items, maintaining cleanliness without sacrificing style. Additionally, consider using foldable furniture or modular designs that enable you to adjust the space according to your needs—whether it’s hosting family gatherings or quiet moments of reflection. Thoughtful layout choices enhance functionality while preserving devotion in daily life.

Customized and Personalized Pooja Room Designs

Customized and personalized pooja room designs reflect your unique spiritual journey. When you tailor a space to your preferences, it becomes more than just a room; it transforms into a sanctuary. Start by selecting colors that resonate with you. Soft pastels or vibrant hues can evoke different energies. Incorporate motifs or symbols that hold personal significance. Consider the materials used in construction as well. Wooden cabinets, marble altars, or metal accents can convey distinct vibes aligned with your beliefs. Selecting traditional craftsmanship ensures authenticity while adding character. Adding elements like photographs of loved ones or mementos from sacred places enhances the connection to those memories during prayer and meditation times. A customized pooja room in south east corner, have to follow strict norms; it’s about creating an atmosphere where you feel most connected. Personal touches make all the difference, allowing for introspection and peace within your home’s heart.

Tips for Maintaining a Sacred and Serene Atmosphere in Your Pooja Room

To maintain a sacred and serene atmosphere in your pooja room, prioritize cleanliness. Regularly dust the idols and surfaces, ensuring everything remains pure. Choose calming colors for the walls. Soft pastels or earthy tones can enhance tranquility while promoting focus during prayers. Incorporate soothing scents with incense sticks or essential oils. These fragrances can elevate your spiritual experience and help create an inviting space. Limit distractions by keeping electronic devices out of sight. This encourages mindfulness and deeper connection during prayer sessions. Natural light is vital; choose curtains that allow sunlight to filter through gently. pooja room decoration, The warm glow creates a peaceful ambiance conducive to meditation and reflection. Add personal touches—photographs or mementos connected to special moments in your faith journey can provide comfort and inspiration each time you enter the room.

The Significance of a Pooja Room in Indian Homes

The pooja room serves as the heart of many Indian homes, embodying cultural and spiritual heritage. It is a sacred space where family members gather for prayers and rituals, fostering a sense of togetherness. This area often becomes a reflection of personal beliefs and traditions. Each altar tells a story through idols, photographs, and offerings that hold deep significance for the family. Moreover, these rooms promote mindfulness in daily life. Regular prayer or meditation within this tranquil environment can help reduce stress while enhancing emotional well-being. For many households, it’s not just about worship; it’s also an expression of creativity in design. From ornate wooden carvings to modern minimalist shelves, each pooja room decoration ideas, showcases unique craftsmanship that ties spirituality with aesthetics. The pooja room stands as a testament to faith and devotion—an essential part of everyday life in Indian culture.

Materials and Decor for a Pooja Room

Choosing the right materials and decor for your pooja room can enhance its spiritual ambiance. Wood is a popular choice, especially in intricate designs that reflect traditional craftsmanship. pooja room wooden frame, cupboards made of solid teak or rosewood not only look elegant but also provide durability. Incorporating marble or granite as flooring adds a touch of luxury while ensuring easy maintenance. Soft textiles like silk curtains and cotton rugs can introduce warmth to the space. Lighting plays a critical role too. Consider pendant lights or subtle LED fixtures that illuminate without overwhelming the serene atmosphere. Use decorative elements such as brass bells, diya stands, and floral arrangements to bring life into your sacred space. Color selection matters significantly; warm hues create an inviting environment, while cool tones promote tranquility. Each element you choose should resonate with personal beliefs and aesthetics, making the pooja room uniquely yours.

Small Space? No Problem Mini Pooja Rooms

Living in a compact space shouldn’t hinder your spiritual journey. Mini pooja rooms are perfect for smaller homes, allowing you to create a serene environment without compromising on aesthetics. Consider using vertical spaces wisely. Floating shelves can display idols and religious artifacts while keeping the floor area free. This design not only saves space but also adds visual interest. Incorporating multifunctional furniture is another smart approach. pooja room door design latest, A stylish cupboard can serve as both storage and a pooja altar, blending seamlessly with your decor. Choose light colors to enhance brightness and give an illusion of more space. Soft lighting further elevates the ambiance, making it inviting for prayer. Even small corners can transform into sacred spots when adorned thoughtfully with plants or wall hangings that reflect your beliefs. Embrace creativity; every inch can become a sanctuary of peace and devotion.

Vastu Shastra Tips for Pooja Room Placement and Design

When designing your pooja room, Vastu Shastra offers profound insights. The ideal location is the southeast corner of your home. This area symbolizes prosperity and positive energy. Ensure that the entrance to your pooja room interior door design, has an inviting door design. A wooden door can add a touch of elegance while maintaining traditional aesthetics. Opt for designs that incorporate intricate carvings or subtle patterns. The altar should face east or north to maximize spiritual benefits during prayers. Using natural materials like wood enhances the serene vibe, making it easier to connect with spirituality. Consider using soft lighting to create a peaceful ambiance. Avoid clutter; simplicity is key in fostering tranquility within this sacred space. Remember, placing plants nearby can enhance the overall energy flow in your pooja room as well!

Pooja Room Ideas

Creating a personalized pooja room can be one of the most rewarding projects for your home. It’s an opportunity to infuse your unique style while honoring traditions that matter to you and your family. Start by selecting a cozy corner or nook, perhaps using an unused space in your living area or bedroom. A simple wooden shelf can serve as the base for your pooja items. If you’re looking at latest pooja room door design , cupboard design wooden options, consider incorporating glass doors to showcase beautiful idols or sacred items. For decoration, use vibrant fabrics like silk or cotton for curtains and table covers. These add warmth and color without overwhelming the senses. You could even involve family members in creating handmade decorations such as garlands from fresh flowers or paper crafts—this makes it feel more special. Lighting plays a significant role too; opt for soft LED lights that create a serene ambiance during prayers. Use decorative candles or diyas strategically around the space for added elegance. If you’re working with limited space, think vertically! Wall-mounted shelves allow you to display deities elegantly without occupying much ground area. Miniature designs are also trending — they maintain functionality while being visually pleasing. Remember that personal touches are key when designing any part of your home: framed photos of important festivals, quotes from scriptures, or artwork that resonates with spirituality can turn ordinary corners into sanctuaries of peace. Your efforts will reflect not just creativity but also devotion—a truly stunning aspect of any pooja room design is its ability to evoke tranquility and connection with one’s faith daily.

Conclusion

Creating a pooja room design that resonates with your personal style and spiritual beliefs can be an enriching experience. Whether you lean towards traditional elegance, modern minimalism, or a blend of both, the options are vast. Consider incorporating elements from nature to enhance tranquility and balance, while creative lighting can set the right mood for prayer. If space is limited in your home, small pooja room designs offer innovative solutions without compromising on aesthetics or functionality. Multi-functional spaces allow for versatile usage while maintaining their sacred essence. Personalized touches make any pooja room feel unique and special. Maintaining serenity within these spaces is essential—regular cleaning and thoughtful decoration help preserve the sanctity of your area dedicated to worship. With so many styles available and various price points for every budget—from wooden pooja room designs to contemporary layouts—the perfect sanctuary awaits you at home. Your pooja room should be more than just a space; it should reflect who you are spiritually while providing peace and calmness through its design choices. Embrace creativity as you embark on this journey to create an inviting haven for devotion in your daily life.

For more info : ikonicinterior

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loudestshortstories · 12 days ago

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She-Who-Fights-a-Losing-War Pt.3

Muddy Smith The-Saddest-Singer Her name her pith Her title her stinger A woman in a losing war One who’ll fight till she can’t no more

Finally, some light.

Muddy thought as she reached the bottom of the stairs and found soft red rays peeking through the glass of a door. No longer needing to whistle, Muddy halted that song and crept up to the window. Looking through it, the woman let out a curse.

Blood was everywhere.

The metal shelves, the wooden crates that filled them, and the cement floor, glowing red blood stuck to it all. Liquid symbols, profane and alien, flowed throughout the luminescent fluid. The mere sight of them caused Muddy’s blood to swell and shift in uncomfortable ways all throughout her veins and arteries. The entire ceiling appeared one seamless sheet of blood and looked too low to be normal.

She must’ve created a second ceiling. An attempt to keep me from approaching? Not a very good one, I can nullify that even tired as I am. Maybe She hopes for it to be a distraction? Whatever it is, too high up to stop me from hitting Her.

The Her in question kneeled draped in red before a floating corpse with balls of brass serving as satellites. A hum filled the air and tiny tremors followed with every passing second, causing the brass to ripple like liquid.

I’ve never had such an easy shot on her before, and tonight I’m fortunate enough to have some good range. One second of the song, I can do one second safely. Let’s wrap this up.

Muddy kicked the door open and raised both hands before singing the percussion lullaby with three of her hand mouths faster than ever. Space collapsed into a swirling abyss in front of Muddy’s eyes, reality distorting around it before the abyss shot forward. The ceiling of blood collapsed, showering the room in red rain. Hands occupied, Muddy sung a new lullaby with her normal mouth.

Something solemn and heartfelt, this lullaby brought tears to Muddy’s eyes. It filled the air and didn’t drown out the other songs. It simply covered them, as it did Everything, in a blanket to keep them snug and warm in their dreams. Everything fell under this lullabies spell. A simple one at that.

For this Lullaby, simply lulled everything to sleep. For those of the waking world, that meant slumber. But from anything from a realm beyond, that meant a return home.

Not a drop of the shower touched Muddy and the blood on the floor surrounding her vanished. A perfectly clean circle of utter mundanity encircled Muddy, even as blood rained down upon the rest of the room. Her eyes blinked, Sleep’s pull amplified by that split second of singing.

A familiar itch made itself known in a new place, atop the back of her left wrist.

One moment, Muddy watched her blackhole flying towards her target. The next, a brass door slammed down between them and scattered it to nothing.

“What—”

Muddy stood in a metal box.

She blinked, looked around, and found only walls on either side and at her back. She couldn’t even turn around, only enough space to twist her head and place her hands against the door in front of her. The very door she’d watched fall a moment before.

“H-how?” Muddy said, even as she knew her fears confirmed.

The SPLASH of feet in puddles drew nearer as Muddy attempted to push the door before her open. The barred opening to the door, right at eye height, darkened before a voice spoke.

“An artifact of The Eldest holds no equal amongst the First Dreamers. Even against someone like you, it’ll work.”

Low and sultry, the familiar voice’s words always felt too relaxed. Too sure of themselves. Looking through the gap, Muddy saw a familiar veiled face staring back at her.

“The-Saddest-Singer.”

“She Who Bleeds Endlessly.”

“I hoped you wouldn’t come tonight.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You never disappoint, my dear.”

Muddy touched the door and tasted the strength of its song. Where every other would’ve been a band or a lone singer, this door’s power was an orchestra. One that felt so certain and so distinct everything it entailed just made sense. Of course, Muddy appeared in the box. Of course she couldn’t escape it.

“How’d you find this?”

“Same way you did, my dear.” The veiled face tilted to the side. “Well, not the same way. You see everything through music, right?”

Muddy narrowed her eyes, then widened them again as Sleep tried to pull them shut.

“You know a lot more than last time.”

“No dream is realized through ignorance, my dear. I had to learn, especially when a new face insists on bothering me all the time. Though, I will admit; your Master isn’t easy to learn about.”

Worry nipped at Muddy’s feet, her fingers flexing reflexively as she put on a grin. The itch on her left wrist felt all the more noticeable.

“Finally figured which Dream I draw upon?”

“Finally figured you don’t draw upon any.”

Muddy flinched, then drew her every mouth tight.

Fuck! What all do you know?

“Need a better poker face, my dear. Won’t help you here though.” The veiled face pressed itself against the bars, a wet SQUELCH marking as covered flesh met iron. “As I said, I know your Master. It was hard though. Your lack of consistency was a real sore spot. One night you wield flesh and blood as I do, another it's laughing wood, and tonight you have gravity on your side. You wouldn’t have been the first Waking Dreamer to try and draw upon the power of more than one Master, but you’re much too…green for that to make real sense. I honestly thought you were some new, mad woman who’d figured out different ways to invoke Them without paying a tribute. I thought it so strange you still had the flesh of your fingers. I thought it so strange you didn’t seem to like the sight of red. I found it so strange that you paid nothing for matching me at every turn. But you do. You have to.”

Two red glows appeared behind the veil, staring straight into Muddy’s eyes.

“Then I realized it had to be the mouths. First we met, I think you only had two extra. Now, you have four. So, once I figured your price, I had to see who would ask that of you. Which Master demands their faithful tithes in body real estate?”

The itch atop Muddy’s left wrist burned for a moment. The twin glows of She Who Bleeds Endlessly moved from side to side hypnotically as Muddy listened and hoped beyond hope She was mistaken.

“So, I searched and searched and searched. And I quickly found that even amongst the Masters, yours is uniquely not spoken of. Not of misplaced fear or reverence, but because most know nothing of him. Of the Thirteen Known Dreams, you lined up with not a one.”

“There’s plenty unknown.”

“True, but we both know you don’t know any of them.”

Muddy winced reflexively, getting a chuckle and wink from her captor.

“Again, better poker face, my dear. So, if it’s not a Known Dream nor an Unknown Dream, what could your Master’s domain be?”

Muddy glared.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Music, more accurately, lullabies. Your Master’s epithet is one I’ve only heard whispered by my own. One I only realized recently spoke of something capable of opposing the First Dreamers. Him—Whom—Sang—Last.”

The epithet gifted to She-Who-Sung-First by all but The Eldest of the First Dreamers. At least, that’s what Momma’s third page said.

“Which leaves me with only one question, what does your Master ask of you? What dream do you attempt to make reality, my dear?”

Only now did Muddy realize how her blood no longer moved unnaturally within her body. Even more still, her left wrist itched.

I’m safe from you in here? Does this artifact prevent a Dreamer’s influence from escaping and entering?

Muddy frowned deeper, working the question over in her mind while feeling out the box more and more. She had a way out, but too soon and She Who Bleeds Endlessly might kill her before she could do much else. That and she needed to learn more about the door itself before the option was available.

“None of the First Dreamers ask anything, they don’t even know about us. The Dreamer I follow is no different.”

She Who Bleeds Endlessly laughed, Her voice turning high-pitched and shrill as She lifted Her veil and revealed Her face beneath.

Well, Her lack of one.

Muscles: wet, flexing, and bleeding cursed Muddy’s sight in place of skin. The previously hidden glowing orbs were not eyes but tiny whirlpools of glowing blood in place of them. Teeth covered in crimson fluid and with bits of flesh in-between shook up and down as Her laugh continued. A tongue, far too long and far too thin for a human, flailed about spraying the bars with blood. None got inside.

“Then why don’t I have any skin left, my dear?” She asked, Her tongue licking the bars before retreating into Her mouth.

“The same reason I have four extra mouths, these abilities were never meant for us.”

She Who Bleeds Endlessly dropped Her veil and shook Her head.

“Foolish child, our blessings are not mere abilities. They’re gifts.”

Muddy dragged the tongues of her palm mouths across the door. Tasting its song and attuning to it. Instead of tasting brass and whatever other gunk upon the door, Muddy tasted movements. Every part of this door’s symphony, danced across her tongues. Her frown deepened further as her understanding grew.

“They’re stolen shadows of things infinitely greater. None of this is a gift.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we, my dear? After all, when The First to Shed Blood enters, he shall bless this world.”

Muddy sneered.

“I won’t let that happen.”

“Can’t do anything stuck in there.”

“And you can’t do anything to me either.”

“True, guess that means we’re both on a time crunch.”

Muddy cursed.

She Who Bleeds Endlessly laughed again.

“As I said, I did research. I know your Master allows you to even undo the might of one of The Eldest’s artifacts. But it’ll take time. Luckily for you, I can neither speed nor slow the ritual to summon my Master. I can only wait for it to complete. Judging how you impeded my previous rituals, I don’t have to tell you what it takes for your victory under these circumstances. Just the time. I give it three more minutes, wonder which will come first.”

Muddy’s palm mouths retracted their tongues, the symphony tasted in full yet not understood fully just yet.

Almost got it.

“You got here a good while ahead of me, waited a little long to start.”

“Had to set up the door.”

“Could’ve been valuable lost time.”

“It’s all a game of chance, my dear. One I’m happy to bet on. Now, as much I enjoy chatting, it can wait till after the emergence of my Master. I prefer to be bowed when he gets here, don’t want to hold my head too high.”

“Trust me, you don’t want them to notice you at all.”

“Silly child, who wouldn’t want to catch a god’s attention?”

She Who Bleeds Endlessly turned away and walked back up to her circle. And the second She turned Her back, Muddy knew all she needed to escape.

With all five mouths, Muddy sung her sleeping lullaby. Rivers ran down her cheeks as her one person choir sung sadness and dreams within her tiny confine. Sleep finally shut her eyes.

And for a moment, one terrifying moment, Muddy worried she’d finally slept.

CRACK!

But the sound of metal tearing forced her eyes back open to witness the split down the middle of the door before her. It wasn’t large enough to go through, but it could be seen out of. It revealed She Who Bleeds Endlessly prostrated before the floating corpse from earlier, as its skin flayed, then its muscles. Intestines burst out from its mouth while the heart exploded from its stomach. The skeleton liquefied then disappeared into the blood. And so much blood swirled around and around until a double helix formed out of the remains of the corpse. The revolving spheres of brass, compressed into bars each sliding into place between each side of the helix until a DNA strand of blood and brass finally took shape.

Shit! It’s nearly over! Muddy sang all the harder, but the tear did not spread any further. Come on! Come on!

The itch on the back of her left wrist burned hotter and hotter until finally, something changed. Muddy felt a sudden emptiness parallel the fullness within her left wrist. She felt a tongue so long that she knew not whether it had a beginning slide by an endless number of blades she called teeth all within that parallel empty space.

Then, she opened and sang with her sixth mouth.

The brass door and the rest of the box dissolved under the harmony of all six sleeping lullabies at once. She Who Bleeds Endlessly rose and revealed Herself in full.

A tall and lanky woman, dressed like a nun who’d dyed Her clothes red. Only Her fingers, all stripped of skin and a few missing their muscles weren’t hidden from sight. Blood poured from all over Her, from Her clothes and covered skin, and pooled beneath Her feet.

She raised Her right hand, and Muddy watched the muscles of Her pinky finger peel then dissolve into the air. A red line appeared before Her, stretching from Her right to the left, before a wave of crimson climbed into the air and fell towards Muddy.

Still singing her sleeping lullaby, Muddy raised her arms towards the wave, and it dispersed into nothingness. As the lullaby grew louder, an invisible pulse swept the room. In its wake, more and more of the blood staining and drenching everything disappeared. And not a second too late, the blood and brass DNA rippled then collapsed. The assortment of flesh and metal became a pile of pinkish-red mush with hard lumps and metal bits sticking out here and there. Only She Who Bleeds Endlessly appeared unaffected by the lullaby as her glowing eyes dimmed none under its song.

“Okay.” Muddy halted her song and took a deep breath. “That’s it. Your gamble failed.”

“No it didn’t, my dear.”

A gash appeared in the air behind She Who Bleeds Endlessly, reality’s flesh splitting into deep purples and light blues before a deluge of blood swept out from the wound in space-time. Muddy gasped, feeling her blood come alive but too heavy so she fell to the ground and couldn’t get up. With only one palm hand capable of singing the percussion song, she tore the ground before her up into a wedge that parted the blood heading her way.

No, no, no, no!

She Who Bleeds Endlessly cackled as the gash above widened, and a choir of blood-curling screams filled the air. Much of the summoned blood flowed straight for Her, and standing tall with a spread of Her arms, She surrounded Herself in a whirlpool of the glowing fluid. No skin, nor muscles peeled as She wielded this power.

As long as that rifts open, she pays no price.

“I win this one, my dear! The Waking Dream shall soon become the Dream of Screams! And this world shall know the beauty that I’ve seen since I was a child! To imagine, I was going to let myself bow and not witness my Master in full!”

The gash widened and Muddy saw endless hills of flesh, bleeding rivers of blood. She saw faces scattered amongst the ground, and the endless combinations which their expressions went through to relay their terror and pain. She saw a figure, so immense in size that even miles away they overshadowed the mountains of organs and limbs before them. Writhing flesh with eyes upon eyes upon eyes upon eyes upon eyes upon eyes all shut tight, as it lurched forward and towards the rift to its freedom. A single tendril peeled from its great mass and extended towards the opening.

I can’t stop that. The power I can draw from the Lullabies, even if I could use more than one mouth, I’d never have enough to stop one of The First Dreamers. Fuck! This is the end.

“This world will know the blessings of Gruuuhhh—”

Muddy watched as the tendril emerged through the rift and swept the room in something more a reflexive flail than anything else.

SPLOTCH!

It cleaved She Who Bleeds Endlessly in half. Her top fell forward while Her bottom fell back, Her intestines spilling out about Her as She died with not another word.

And just like that, the gash collapsed in on itself, severing the tendril as it swept the room again and smashed into a wall with a very loud and wet PLOP. The thin limb fell to the ground and melted into blood.

“Holy shit,” Muddy murmured, staring at the corpse of her foe. “I’m still alive.”

Still on her knees, she looked around at the once again bloodstained and still glowing room.

Stupid luck. I’m only still here because of dumb luck.

Sleep pressed into Muddy’s spine, ran its fingers across every bone and connected tendon. It pulled them down and told everything inside to just slow and rest right here, in this bloodied basement.

Muddy really wanted to fall asleep.

But she forced herself to her feet once more and shook her head. A yawn retreated from every one of Muddy’s mouths, each telling her that her night was done. She’d saved (?) the world again. Sure, she still had a mess to clean up, but she could do that later. She had a lullaby for erasing memories after all. She could just stop for now. Close her eyes for a minute.

But Muddy didn’t stop.

She simply shook her head and looked around.

It’s going to be a long minute before I get to sleep.

#black literature #cosmic horror #my writing #creative writing #super hero #short story

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