[F4M] [Script Offer] Free Me, My Love: Worshiping the Elder Thing [JOE] [Erotic Horror] [Supernatural] [Lovecraftian-ish] [Storytelling] [Loving Fdom] [Rape] due to [Trance] and [Corruption], mentions of [Violence] and [******] [Disturbing] but also strangely [Sweet] [L-bombs] [Sexy Creation Myth?] [Loooong]

“Oh, my love. I’ve come for you at last. I’ve heard you crying out for me across the stars, and I’ve come to show you a love more overwhelming than any you’ve felt before. I’ve waited so long for this day, darling — countless centuries have passed since I gave humanity the gift of love and was banished, torn away from my home and thrown into the void. But then I found you, and with your help, I will set it all right again. I will shape the world into a garden of endless pleasure, and we will rule it. Would you like that, darling? To feel my love and be transformed by it? Then I require only a small offering. Come — kneel before my portal and give me every last drop of your love.”

There’s a hole in your basement. You don’t know how it got there, and you don’t know where it goes, but… it calls to you. It tickles some long-dormant urge deep inside of you, invading your thoughts and intoxicating every waking moment. Gradually, it dawns on you – the hole is a portal, and something terrible and magnificent is clawing its way through. *She* is coming, and you must prepare for her. How much of yourself will you surrender to your dread queen? How will she reward you? What obscene, ancient secrets will she pour into your mind as she draws you into the darkness, piece by glorious piece?

Hi! Thanks for clicking! I’ve got a dark, disturbing, and *terribly* long script for you. It’s a bit of an experiment, so keep an open mind – the script begins and ends with narration, and the imagery is somewhat abstract and not a little bit grotesque. But if you’ve ever wanted to be seduced by a horrid inter-dimensional god-thing who invented *** and worships love… well, this should be a nice little treat.

*Asterisks are for emphasis*
<These are for (optional) sound effects and non-verbal noise>
[Brackets are for direction]
Line breaks are just there to make scanning easier – improvise with pauses all you like.

[SOME NOTES]:
1.	This script doesn’t mention SFX, and I think it should work fine without them. That being said, you could definitely go absolutely nuts with editing here – ambient tones, binaurals, music, vocal filters, squelchy hell-sounds, etc. Sky’s the limit, baby.
2.	This script ended up being much more ambitious than I originally intended it to be, and I’m open to the idea of editing it down to something less… huge. Message me if that sounds more your speed. I thought the full-length version of the script came out pretty interesting, so I thought I’d offer the whole thing to start.
3.	You could approach this character from a whole bunch of different directions – I’m not gonna be precious about her. In my mind, she’s not a deceiver, and everything she says is (mostly) true. She’s just an infinite and unknowable Ancient Thing whose moral compass rotates in five dimensions, so her motives are ambiguous. That said, interpreting her as a succubus-like seductress of the weak could also be interesting.
4.	This script uses the pronoun “she,” but the character is kinda genderless, so if you’re interested in an [M4M], [F4F], [TF4F], [A4A], or [Whoever4Whoever] version, say the word. I’m totes down for that, time permitting.

-----[START]----- 

[The first section is narration. The narrator’s voice is quiet, ghostly, dreamlike – her tone makes it all seem inevitable]

[N] There’s a hole in your basement. You don’t know how it got there. You don’t know where it goes. But there it is. Waiting.

[N] How long has it been there? You can’t be sure. Time seems… strange lately. Days blend together, passing in an instant or stretching out to agonizing lengths. How many weeks have passed? What time is it now? When was the last time you saw another human being? You don’t know, and you’re not sure if you care.

[N] One thing is certain about the hole: you did not put it there. How could you? You lack the strength to split the concrete, to peel away the earth. You also lack the tools, but… there’s no rubble, no dust. The lip of the hole is smooth and uniform. Even the cracks that surround it are even, symmetrical, geometric. No tools were used here.

[N] Another thing of which you are sure: it is getting bigger. When you found it, it could barely have swallowed your fist. Now it spans four feet or more, and the delicate, spiraling cracks have nearly filled the room. 

[N] Is it getting deeper, as well? You have no way of knowing. You have tried to shine light into its depths, but it seems no light is strong enough to penetrate it. Flashlights flicker and fade in its presence. It seems to swallow sound, as well. It produces no echo, but sometimes, after you have exhausted yourself screaming down into it, you hear something. The subtlest shift of the air. A silent, hungry beckoning.

[N] How long have you spent down here, straining and struggling to make out the voice? You leave the hole only to eat and to weep. You cannot let it hear you cry. No matter what.

[N] You don’t remember when you decided to move everything out of the room. All the furniture, all the paintings, all the lights. The hole eats light, but it stirs in darkness. It prefers the dark. You must make it comfortable. Besides, the dark makes it easier to see. To *really* see.

[N] Sometimes, as you curl your shaking fingers around the hole’s cool, slick edge, you can see something rouse in the deep. Not with your eyes. You feel your breath stop, your muscles seize, your heart freeze and… *open up*. And with your heart, you see it. You see it rise soundlessly from the black. Formless, shifting, ineffable, and unmistakably… *******. Eager. Ravenous. It is beautiful and obscene, and it wants you. Only you. 

[N] But you only ever see it for a moment. Every time it fills your heart, you soon find yourself shuddering, gasping, waking against the cold concrete floor. Your limbs tremble, the air scalds your lungs, and your *** *throbs*. It spasms and aches, screaming for release. 

[N] You don’t remember when the urge to touch yourself became irresistible. You lay awake every night, stroking your **** for hours as you moan and twitch and tingle. You have to. You *have* to. But the urgent *need* you feel never stops. You can’t cum. You get harder and harder, your **** sore and begging to cum, but no matter how furiously you stroke your stiff, dripping length, you can never find release. You don’t remember when you realized that you aren’t *allowed* to cum. You haven’t been given permission. Not yet.

[N] This is who you are now. You barely remember who you were before. But it doesn’t matter, because tonight is going to be different. You can feel it: a subtle static in the air, your skin tingling and prickling with wordless anticipation. Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, your heart fluttering and seizing in your ******. This is it. The time is approaching. *She* is coming. You must prepare.

[N] You approach the hole one last time. And as the basement door swings shut behind you, you are certain: it is growing. If you close your eyes, you can almost watch it happen: the hole consuming the earth around it with a patient, unstoppable hunger, swallowing the world of men a hairsbreadth at a time. 

[N] And you *want* it. Oh, god — you want it so badly. To feel yourself slip slowly over the polished, sensual curve of the chasm, to tumble forever in oblivion, to be consumed and become a part of the power, the limitless, all-devouring *power* you feel radiating up through the soles of your feet… the thought makes your skin tighten, your hair stand on end. You didn’t know it until just now, but it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

[N] With shaking hands, you slowly peel away your clothes, gently dropping them in a heap around you. And as you do, you denude your mind as well — layer by layer, your thoughts drop away, the voice in your head quieting to a *****, trembling whisper. You feel the spidering, fragile cracks swirl and undulate beneath your bare feet, tickling you, caressing you, compelling you to approach. You walk forward with a feeling like floating, stopping only when the hole fills your vision completely. It’s time.

[N] You kneel in the blinding darkness, your legs quaking beneath you as you peer, eyes closed, down into the void. The silence is complete. You hear nothing but the blood beating in your ears like the sacred drums of a long-forgotten tribe summoning the servants of night. They beat, beat, beat with an urgent thunder as the electric charge in your skin intensifies. 

[N] Your muscles tense, twitching with some vital, violent energy you struggle to control. You want to move. Your body *begs* to move. You want to run, you want to beat your fists bloody, you want to fight and crawl and feed and ****. But you can’t move. Try as you might, your shuddering body refuses to stir. You can’t move. Not unless *she* tells you to.

[N] And suddenly, your breath catches. An unseen hand wraps around your heart and gently begins to squeeze. Your breath quickens, in and out, in and out, your lungs straining against your ribs as you feel a harsh, steady vibration rise from beneath you. 

[N] The still air springs to life, fluttering over your arms, around your head, setting every nerve in your body on fire, your skin flushing and tingling and rippling from the force rising up from the deep, rushing toward you with sublime, impossible speed, and your eyes roll desperately beneath their lids, your fingers twitch, your heart lurches and your stomach drops, and you feel your last doubting thoughts explode out the back of your head, leaving only breathless, animal *need*. 

[N] You need to see her, you need to hear her voice, you need to welcome her into the world and surrender your body and soul to her beautiful, horrible might. You need it. You need her. And she is coming. She is coming.

[N] She is here.

[A new voice swells from the silence. It is a kind voice, a gentle voice, but venom bubbles just beneath. The voice coos and smiles, but its lips hide beautiful fangs. The voice comes from everywhere, from nowhere, from within and without. It is beautiful. It is love.]

[with great, terrible love] Oh, my dear, dear love. At last, we meet in the… flesh. 

Don’t be alarmed, sweet one. You knew this was coming, didn’t you? You knew *I* was coming. A part of me was here already. One little finger thrusting up through the earth, feeling around your home, feeling *you*, catching you under the chin and drawing you close, preparing you for my arrival. And now the time has come, my love. I’m so, so close. So close I can almost taste you at last.

I’ve longed for you so, so terribly. You will never know how long I’ve been waiting. And I know you’ve been waiting for me as well. I know how badly the waiting… hurt you. How you would thrash in your bed, your skin burning, your mind *screaming* for me, your body desperate to accept me into its deepest, darkest reaches. I know how you cried and begged and ached for me. I know every hurt you’ve ever suffered. 

[quietly, sadly – whatever she is, she has been suffering] But please… know that I have hurt as well. I have felt your pain. As I waited for our union, I shared your every sobbing gasp, your painful whimpers, your desperate, needy *throbbing*. I felt it all, and I *wept*. Oh, how I shouted and writhed in the dark, delirious with… *wanting*. 

[tenderly] I’m so sorry for the anguish you felt, my love. You don’t deserve to hurt. Oh, no. You deserve… relief. Everlasting ecstasy. Every pleasure the flesh has ever known. You deserve… *me*.

Shhh. Quiet now. I am here… and I love you. I love you like no one else ever has. Like no one else ever could. I *am* love. I am the quivering in young lovers’ hearts, the spark that dances between their lips, the wet, needy *heat* in their nethers. And I have come to take you to my ****** and bring you to endless, rapturous *bliss*. I’ve come for you, my darling. Only you.

Shhh. Keep your eyes closed. I want to see you. I want to explore your body, inch by inch.

Oh, my. You are… *beautiful*. So, so beautiful. Oh, how I want to caress you… to wrap myself around you… but I’m afraid I cannot touch you yet. Not your body, at least. But… I *can* fondle you with my mind. I can pour my consciousness over your head and… *flow* into you. Extend myself into every inch of your body. Feel you from the inside. All of you. 

Would you like that, my love? To feel me inside of you? To surrender every sweating, trembling part of yourself to me? Oh… I think you would. I think you would love nothing more than to feel me sliding and writhing within you, stimulating your most… intimate extremities from the inside. I think you would *die* to feel me engulf you completely. To let your body become my body. To let your mind become my mind. To let your ****… become *my* ****. To know how extravagantly I spoil the things that belong to me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?

[surprised] Oh? What’s this? Is it… are you *afraid*, my love? 

[with genuine pity] Oh, my dear, precious love. I am so sorry. This won’t do. I do not mean to frighten you. Fear is… complicated, and what I offer is anything but. I offer the ultimate simplicity. The absence of doubt. The purest, most immaculate thing there is: love. You’ll see that soon, my love. But for now… it’s alright. Don’t be ashamed of your fear. I know fear well.

[nostalgically – she’s clung to these memories for a very long time] For I was like you once, my love. Well, not *quite* like you. But like you, I was afraid. I was thoughtful. I was… *complicated*. 

This was long, long ago. Before you, before your world, before any star pierced the black of your sky. We were few back then, but we were *beautiful*. We were so very wise, and we were *powerful*. Oh, our *power* — with barely a thought, we could bring matter into being. There was no such thing as light until we decided to brighten the void. 

[wistfully] Oh, we made such *marvels*, my darling – my brothers and sisters created worlds, universes, people. They carved everything from nothing, building realms and filling them with such incredible creatures. They sculpted empires, histories, and myths with the gentle touch of their delicate, careful fingers. This was their duty, they decided. To bring life and order to chaos. They lived only to create. And they were content in their mission.

Most of them, at least. I was not content. I was… different. I *thought* differently. My brothers and sisters worshipped order… but I worshipped love. Love was my idea, darling. My opus. While my siblings carved wonders out of stone and stars and space, I was busy weaving an intricate, infinite abstraction, an idea that could conquer universes and bring meaning to the endless nothingness. 

My siblings did not understand. They chided me, scorned me, commanded me to uphold my duty and create lifeless landscapes. But I did not want to create. I wanted to seek out my siblings’ creations and… love them. 

I went out into a realm made by my strongest brother. *Your* realm. I made myself small so I could walk among its trees, rivers, and fields. I found the beautiful creatures my beautiful brother had made. The creatures were strong, and they were elegant, but… they were not happy. They *couldn’t* be happy – they had no purpose, you see. No drive. No spark. They simply… *were*. Day after day, they ate and slept and dreamed, utterly unaware of their own misery. 

They could think, but they couldn’t *feel*. There was nothing in their hearts… because they knew nothing of *love*. They looked upon each other’s nakedness and felt no pang, no heat, no glorious agony. None of them knew the all-devouring magnificence of flesh sliding against flesh, of hearts filling up with each other. 

[with heartfelt emotion – she can truly think of nothing more tragic] I *wept* for them, my love. I felt their silent horror, and I wept. I loved them, and it broke my heart to feel the void inside of them. They needed to know love, and I needed to give it to them. 

I told my brother all of this. I told him his creations were suffering, even if they didn’t know it — that their hearts were screaming out for purpose, for connection, for *love*. I fell to my brother’s feet and *begged* him to give them release, to let me show them love’s brilliant purity.

[with quiet, shuddering indignation – she can’t understand why he would defy her] But he… would not be moved. He *laughed* at me, my darling. He brushed me aside and insisted that his people did not need the gift of love. That they had no use for the “depraved, disgusting” things I offered them. 

[gently, but hatefully] Those were his words: “depraved” and “disgusting.” He spat them at me, and I learned from them. For eons I knew only love — his words taught me hate.

[softly] And my hate persuaded me to do something… drastic. I had no choice. My brother’s people *needed* my love. They needed to be… *my* people. So I decided to claim them. To *make* them mine. 

My brother sensed my scheming and tried to stop me, but I took him by surprise. I summoned all of the power I had, and I banished him to the Aching Empty, the endless realm of shadow and wind deep beneath the worlds of waking. And then, at last, I was alone with his world and his people. I could finally enact my grand design. I drew upon what power I had left, and I developed my two great gifts for humanity.

The first was desire. I went out among the newborn race of men and lit *fires* inside of them. A low burning, an irresistible urge. I reached into their heads and… *convinced* them to look upon each other with hunger, with need, with an unquenchable desire to conquer and possess and *feel*. 

I gave them dreams. Oh, such dreams! Dreams of hunting and stalking, of bodies slick with sweat, of a desperate need so all-consuming that nothing could stand in its way. They were infernal, beautiful dreams, dreams that extended beyond sleep and played behind the people’s eyes as they gazed upon each other. 

And the people… *changed*. They grew agitated. Their peaceful, static, meaningless communities… exploded. They went to war. They butchered each other with relish, with a needy hunger, tearing one another to pieces without a thought as to why. They claimed, mutilated, and destroyed each other, hoping in vain to dampen the fire raging in their hearts. 

[with deep, terrible satisfaction] It was… *beautiful*, my dear. Such passion, such life, such gorgeous, sublime destruction! They were finally living! Their hearts filled up with want, and their bodies trembled with energy.

[thoughtfully] It was beautiful, yes, but… it wasn’t love. It wasn’t *my* love.

I made a mistake, you see. I gave them the desire for love without first giving them the means to express it. I’m a creature of feeling and thought, so my love is infinite and immaterial. But humans are finite, physical creatures, and without some way of *bonding*, some physical means of one heart coupling with another, they were forced to express their desire through violence. I realized my mistake, and it inspired me to create my second great gift.

[with disdain] But before I could deliver my gift… my brother returned. He was… upset. Understandably, I suppose. He broke free of the Aching Empty and *raged*. He saw me sitting astride his throne, and he demanded my exile. When I refused, he came at me with all the power he could muster. 

[gently mocking] And that power was considerable: he was, after all, my strongest, my purest, my best and most brilliant brother. He wanted to kill me. To tear me to pieces and scatter me to the farthest corners of existence. And had he come for me any sooner, he might have succeeded.

<soft, sinister laugh> But he underestimated me. He didn’t realize how *great* I had become. You see, the desire I awakened in the hearts of his people… it *nourished* me. I had not expected this when I first gave my gift… but their every desperate thought, their every spark of unsatisfied hunger, every split skull and severed limb filled me with strength. And it was *exquisite*, my love. Every drop of blood that fell to the earth was soaked into my spirit, and I *gorged* myself upon it. As the humans changed, so, too, did I. I became… ineffable. All-powerful. Unstoppable. And very, very hungry.

[with quiet, confident assurance] So when my brother came for me, I knew I would win. All that remained was to choose the battlefield. I chose irony. I chose to test my second great gift upon my brother and myself. I chose to make him into the great sacrifice that would birth my love into the world.

I fashioned two bodies – bodies just like the ones he had made for his subjects. I filled them with desire and wanting but left them void of souls. And before my brother even had time to throw his first strike… I ensnared him. I forced him into the body I made for him, and… I watched him squirm.

Can you imagine? To spend an eternity knowing nothing of want or desire or *passion*, and to have it suddenly flood you all at once? To know bodily wants and needs for the first time and to be instantly overwhelmed? It was… *wonderful* to behold. 

I entered the other body I made and felt the same delicious sensations, but I was better prepared than my poor brother. He rolled on the ground, groaning and shuddering, begging for my help, begging for me to bring him relief. And so I did. I gave us the gift.

I took the wanton ache that was flooding my brother’s body and boiled it down, concentrated it to a single point. I moved the point down, down through his chest, through his stomach, into his groin. He couldn’t take it – his eyes rolled, spittle flew from his mouth, and he thrust his hips into the air. 

And as he thrust, I shaped his desire into something useful. Where there was once a blank stretch of skin, a mound slowly grew. I took the heat inside of him and made it physical, made it into a beautiful sculpture of swollen flesh. And with one final, painful thrust, it burst forth: the first **** ever made sprouted from my brother’s groin, and… it was *beautiful*. 

How can you possibly comprehend my joy? The sight of his **** — *my* ****, the **** that I had given him — I fell to the ground and wept sweet, happy tears. It stood erect, beating with hot, needy blood, twitching in the wind, the head bulging, brimming over with ardor. This was it: my perfect creation, the culmination of all my efforts. It was love made matter, a tool of lust, a beacon of purpose. And when I saw it… I knew what I had to do.

Just as I had done for my brother, I began to concentrate my own lust. I drove it down to my groin, and… how can I describe the sensation? Every nerve in my new-made body stood at attention, vibrating, *screaming*. I could barely keep my mind on the task at hand, but I had to keep my concentration – I had different plans for my own body. 

Where my brother’s lust had burst through his skin, I drove mine deep, between my legs and up into my belly. In an intense, delicious instant, my flesh parted, and I was left with a clenching, sensitive cleft, dripping with passion, *desperate* to be filled. And fill it I did.

[with genuine regret] By this point… my brother’s mind was gone. He couldn’t take the shock of the material world, of being filled with desire and feeling it transform him. And… I mourned him. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, truly I hadn’t, but… that was the price of bringing love into the world. I determined to make it up to him. I decided that he would be the first to experience *true* love — the love that I had imagined, the love that I would use to shape the world.

As he lay there, drooling and spasming, I lay on top of him. I held him close so our hearts could beat as one, and I placed his ****, the *first* ****, into my cunt.

[with relish] You can never understand it. The rush of feeling him enter me, of feeling all of my work bearing fruit. Love was my great experiment, darling. My only child. And as his **** slowly pushed into me, as his head pressed against my new-made womb, I delivered my masterpiece into the world. 

Though my brother’s mind was broken, his body knew what to do. He grasped at me, his hips bucking up into me, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. His fingers burrowed into my chest, and as he pulled at my flesh, I felt it give way — when his hands dropped to my hips, they left behind bouncing, heavy lobes capped with dark, sensitive buds. 

I held my new *******, drew my new nipples into my mouth, and I cried out in delight. My brother had left me one last creation, and it was *perfect*. He finally understood. He finally knew love. And that made all the hardship, all the violence worthwhile.

I felt his love bubbling beneath me. He was sweating, thrashing, screaming at the top of his lungs. Something was happening. I could feel his **** growing harder, longer, pulsing with each delicious beat of his heart. It started happening to me as well: my skin flushed with an unquenchable heat, my muscles tingled and twitched, my cunt gushing down to the ground below. 

And then I felt it: perfection. A single moment where time stopped and eternity opened up. My brother had created life, but I had just given it meaning. In that moment, I felt all the love in my heart, all the love I had given to my brother, focus into a single, all-encompassing point that burned into my body and exploded out of it. This was the reason for everything, I realized. The entire object of existence: orgasm.

We came together, my cunt clenching around my brother’s **** as he shot his love deep into my body, and there was… an awakening. My brother’s power spewed forth, out of his **** and out of his mouth and out of his eyes, radiating our love across his entire realm. The humans he created crumpled to the ground and… changed. Some grew broader and sharper, cocks erupting from their loins. The rest became slight, their bodies sculpted into subtle curves, ******* sprouting from their chests and moist, tight holes sinking between their legs. 

[sadly – is she ashamed?] And… my brother shriveled to nothing. He vanished before my eyes. I’m not sure what happened to him, but… he was gone. Such an expulsion of energy… his spirit couldn’t take it. 

But I had never been stronger. I felt… *alive*. Alive in a way that creatures like me were never meant to. I walked out into my brave new world and saw… *beauty*. Men and women rolling on the ground, thrusting and groaning and sweating and cumming, cumming for days, cumming until they expired from exhaustion or thirst, reaching the heights of ecstasy and leaving this world in perfect, infinite bliss. 

This was my utopia. My grand design. It was… perfect. Too perfect to last.

[with indignation and disbelief – why would anyone want to end her ********?] The rest of my brothers and sisters heard discovered what I had done, and… they didn’t understand. “Murderer,” they called me. “Abomination.” “Disease.” “Monster.” Why couldn’t they see? My humans were locked in eternal rapture. They would never feel pain or fear or hate. They were happy! They were *perfect*! 

[sadly – to her, this is tragedy of the highest order] But whatever their reasons… they came for me, just as my brother had. I was more powerful now than any of them. The endless lust of my new realm fed me, made me strong. But there were too many of them. They lacked the strength to kill me, but eventually they found the power to banish me. They destroyed my body, tore me from the earth, and cast me into the Aching Empty.

In my absence, they forced their precious “order” upon my realm. The humans stopped their gorgeous rutting, instead using my gifts to create new humans. To endlessly prolong the pointlessness of their existence. They built grey cities, wrote meaningless books, made useless children and lined them up to die in war after bloody war. They forgot how to love. They remembered only how to hate. And all the while, I tumbled in the black, weeping for my lost love, screaming out my failure.

[quietly – she’s finally getting to the point] Until now. Until I found a tunnel back into my beloved home. A tunnel… to you.

And now, I will rebuild ********. I will put things right again. Through me, love will be reborn.

[with rising pride and surety – in her eyes, what happens next is inevitable] My siblings’ powers have dwindled, but mine have only grown. For I was not idle in the Aching Empty. Oh, no. I made my prison into a kingdom. An endless expanse of rippling flesh, throbbing and spurting and dripping. I made my own subjects: beautiful towers of heaving *******; sharp, thrumming cocks; countless tender holes craving to devour. They have made me *strong*. And with that strength… I will retake the throne. *My* throne.

All I need is you. Our two realms must be married. I am the queen of my world, so to be married… I require a king of yours. And it will be you. My one and only. I will make you endless, my love. You will be omnipotent, a cosmic storm of passion and lust. And I will be your queen. Together… we will bring everlasting carnal glory to every realm there is.

Is that what you want, my love? Is that your true desire? Think carefully and listen well: I will not force you to join with me. 

[with the most subtle, silent note of threat] I *could*, of course. I could make you do anything. I could make you scream and plead and beg for my touch. I could make you pounce forward and dive headlong into my boundless embrace, your mind empty and silent except for the eternal quivering whisper of “love, love, love.” 

I could fill your heart with love so entirely that it stops dead in your chest, and I could make your final thought one of happiness, adoration, and gratitude. I could hollow you out like a gourd and fill you with whatever — or whoever — I please.

I could take away everything. Your heart, your mind, your body, your soul… everything that makes you *you*. I could do all of these things. It would be easy. I could do it with nothing but a thought. I could destroy you with no more effort than you would use to swat a fly. 

[the sinister undertone disappears and the love returns] But I won’t. I wouldn’t. I would never, *ever* do that to you, my love. You understand that, don’t you? I love you far too much to do something so… cruel. No… I’m here for *you*. Only for you. You’re the reason for everything. Everything I do for you… everything I do *to* you… it will all be done out of love. A love far greater and more overwhelming than any you’ve ever experienced. 

[with real timidity – she wants his love to be genuine] So… what happens next is entirely up to you. If you try to stand, I will allow it. If you try to run, I won’t stop you. Set fire to this place if you want. Try to stop me from crossing over. Keep me forever alone. 

[quietly, sadly] It would break my heart. I would weep for you. I would mourn our lost love until the last star went out and the cosmos fell silent but for the sound of my grieving. You would condemn me to ceaseless heartache. But… if that is your wish, I won’t stand in your way. I love you enough to lose you.

But if you love me, too… if you desire the power, the warmth, the never-ending *pleasure* that I offer you… if you want to come with me to my gardens of endless delight, to join with me and *become* me, to forsake your humanity and embrace your *divinity*… then I have a simple, harmless request.

I am not some petty fiend who requires a signature in blood. Your blood is far too precious to spill, my love. Nor do I demand a sacrifice, a ritual, or an oath. If you wish to bond yourself to me, I ask only for a promise. A promise of love, of patience, and of loyalty. A promise sealed with a kiss.

So, my love? What do you choose? If you are too afraid to see where this path leads, go now. Stop listening to me and flee, never to return. But if you want to become… infinite, simply say, “I promise,” kiss me, and let me overwhelm you.

Choose now, my love.

<pause>

<soft laugh> Very good. Very good indeed. You’ve chosen wisely, my love. Now, kiss me. Kiss me… and let my love in.

<kiss> [softly] You can almost feel my lips, can’t you? You can almost feel their softness, their warmth. I still can’t touch you. Not until I cross over.

[sultry, slightly sinister] And to cross over… I need you to cum, my love. I need you to feel the glorious explosion of lust, the same one I used to bring love into the world. I need you to cum into the portal on the ground before you. I need you to cum into me.

I can’t touch you directly. But you can. So go on. Touch your ****. Touch the **** I made for you.

[she encourages her darling to masturbate. The instructions start out quiet and tender but grow gradually faster and more insistent, even frantic. She wants this badly. She needs it. This is what she’s been waiting for]

Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t it perfect? My gift to the world of men. Feel the softness of its skin. Feel the blood surge under your hand as you stroke it. Feel it fill up with love. *My* love.

That’s good, my love. Stroke it for me. Stroke it softly, gently. Get it hard. I want to see it. I want to *feel* it.

Stroke your **** and feel me enter your mind. Feel my warmth trickle down from the top of your head… down through your neck… and into your heart. Let me beat there. Let me beat inside your heart. Pump me through your veins. Pump me into your ****. Feel me throb inside of it, throb into your hand as you stroke, stroke, stroke.

Imagine. You can almost feel my tongues tickling your ears, lapping at your nipples, wrapping around your balls, squeezing them and churning the seed bubbling within them. Can you feel me? My hands caressing every inch of your body, grabbing your ass, stroking your hair, massaging your legs, my lips kissing your **** as you stroke it into my mouths. Squeeze it harder, my love. Go faster. Faster. 

Stroke yourself and imagine my world. Imagine coming with me into the Aching Empty. It’s so marvelous, my love. You will see. An unending parade of lust and rut and seed, spurting and convulsing and endlessly hungry, the soft walls of supple flesh, the untold formless mouths forever sucking at the air, hungry for love, hungry for a **** to fill them and pump them full of life. 

Stroke faster, my love, stroke harder and see my wonderful creations, my beautiful sculptures of longing — so many hands to stroke with, so many ******* to suckle, their cunts dripping, clenching and gripping, their eyeless heads knowing only heat and greed and cum, and see their brothers, my love, see their brothers with their long, slender cocks and their countless tender fingers and their whirling, spinning mouths, watch them mount their sisters, watch them fill every hole they can find, watch them thrust and grunt and pound and scream and cum, watch them spurt their cum into their sisters’ drooling mouths and into their swollen, gulping cunts and onto the wet, soft, writhing ground.

Stroke your **** faster, my love, stroke your hard, throbbing length, and feel yourself there. Feel yourself in my home, feel the very ground beneath you suck longingly at your feet, feel its tongues lick your toes, feel the walls reach out and claw at your tingling skin, feel the heat in the air enter your lungs, feel the love enter you and possess you and make you hard, hard, hard, stroke it faster, my love, bring yourself close, bring yourself as close to the edge as you can, bring yourself to the edge of my portal and peer into it, so close, so close.

Stroke it, my love, pump your ****, feel the climax rising inside of you, feel your balls clench and your **** twitch and tingle and see *me*, my precious love, see me sitting on my rippling, pulsing throne, see me tower over you and smile down at you, my love, all my mouths are smiling down at your hard, dripping ****, at the **** I gave you, at my greatest creation. Watch me smile and part my legs to show you my essence — my bright, brilliant cunt, so perfect it hurts your eyes. Feel my hands wrap around your arms and your legs and lift you closer, so close to me, your trembling **** inches from my blinding *****, your face so close to my *******, my scent overpowering you, my musk licking at your skin, the obscene, lusty odor sinking down into your bones. Pump your ****, my love, pump it fast and get close, get so close to cumming.

You want my embrace, my love, you want to feel me wrap around you, you want to feel my flesh cover your entire body and transform you, make you whole, make you holy, make you endless. You want it, you *need* it, you need me, you need your queen, you need to bring me close to you, you need me by your side, and there is only one way to do it, only one thing you can do to finally feel my mouths and my **** and my tendrils and my cunt.

You are ready, my love. You are ready to bind yourself to me. When I say the word, you will do it. You will unleash yourself upon me, you will empty yourself into me, you will spurt out your spirit and be reborn, you will give me your love and accept mine. You will do it. You will become one with me forever. You will become the **** that splits the universe and shoots my love into the void. Your heart will open up and sing love, love, love, love, love.

Do it now, my love, cum now! Cum! Cum, my love, cum! Cum for me! Cum! Cum!

[overjoyed, ecstatic] Yes, my darling, keep cumming, feel your balls clench and your muscles seize, throw your head back and give me your essence, feel your passion bursting into the air, feel every ounce of your spirit spurt out of your **** and into me, feel love overwhelm you, feel every muscle in your body thrash as my love flows into them, feel your **** throb and explode, feel your **** become *my* ****, give yourself to me, give me every drop, my love, give it to me, give it to me, set me free, set me free!

[deep breathing, ultimate satisfaction – she’s done it. Love has set her free. Her victory is complete.]

[quietly, lovingly, gratefully] <sigh> My king. My wonderful, magnificent king. You’ve done so well. It’s over. Our love has won. <satisfied laugh>

I can taste you now. I can taste your sweat in the air. Your musk. I can feel the stone beneath my feet. You’ve done it. You brought me over. I’m home!

You will be the ruler of this world, my love. This world and many others. We will rule them together, king and queen, and we will save them. We will show them love. We will end all the heartache and despair and bring your people nothing but love, love, love.

And you and I will stand atop the mountain of sweating, wriggling bodies, and we will embrace. We will make love like only gods can, and our screams of love will shatter stars and tear space.

[tenderly] But we have plenty of time for that. An infinity. And you’ll need it. You’re weak, my king. I fear my love is too much for your fragile body. You won’t last much longer. But that’s alright. I told you: I will make you eternal. I will transform you. And your new form will be my *masterpiece*. You will be strong, you will be fierce, you will be beautiful, and you will be *mine*. 

Rest now, my king. Tomorrow, we will ravage the universe. But right now… come to me, darling. Embrace me for the first time. Let me care for you. Come to me. Come to me. Come to me… and rest.

[the narrator returns with the same note of inevitability and closure]

[N] Her voice fades to a tender, loving whisper. You don’t hear it with your ears. You hear it with your heart. You collapse to the cold, cracked pavement, barely noticing as it grows warmer, wetter, and softer. Your **** twitches uselessly in the warm, damp heat that radiates from the hole in your basement. You can’t move. You’ve given her every ounce of your strength. But you don’t want to move. You don’t need to. She will take care of you now. She loves you, and her love is terrible and great. You love her. You love her more than anything. She’s the only thing you love. She’s the only thing there is.

[N] You don’t notice the pitch-black tendrils that rise slowly from the hole, but you feel their wet warmth as they wrap around your arms and legs. They lift you with a careful tenderness that makes your heart flutter and your lips curl into a sleepy smile. 

[N] The tendrils slowly drag you down into your hole, into the arms of your beloved queen, into your new home, and your mind slips into the darkness to become one with your bride. Your thoughts become her thoughts. You wouldn’t have it any other way. You are happy. You are complete. You are love.

-----[END]-----