Lucy reclined on the plush armchair, enjoying the feeling of Helen's tongue lapping at her slit. A quick, tittering orgasm rippled through her divine body. The pleasure spread throughout the room. Behind Helen, her former stepson, now a hulking beast of muscle and cock, ruthlessly fucked his step mother in the ass. Across the room, Lucy's former husband laid on a well used bed while Helen's daughter, Aly, rubbed her whole body up and down David's enormous cock. Periodic eruptions of cum splattered on Aly's body, sending her into convulsive pleasure. Malcolm, Helen's husband, occupied one of the other large beds in the transformed house. Oliver and Alice had him tied down, playing with him in a variety of devilish ways.
Lucy patted Helen on the head, dismissing her for the time being. The woman gave Lucy a last, loving kiss on her inner thigh before dislodging Nick's spurting cock from her ass and leading him off to shower together. Lucy's fingers moved over to her nipples as she watched the other denizens of her little pleasure palace. A strong part of her wanted to unleash a new frenzy of lust among them, plunging the whole group into another wild, days-long orgy. She needed to work, though, and resisted her own temptations.
Work. The concept struck her as funny. It had been work to turn her run down, ranch style house into a bordello of comfortable sin. With a thought, she could bend reality. Sometimes. It depended on the reality's stubbornness. Her and David's home wanted to change as much as its owners did. Walls moved. Cushions, pillows, and beds sprang out of nothingness to give the whole place universal comfort for fucking. Those had been the easy parts. Lucy knew what a bed looked like and found she could conjure one pretty easily. In her mind, she could picture the house as it would become structurally, willing it into being.
On the other hand, she'd never seen a magic drawer of sex toys. So far as she knew, one never existed. When she began to create one, she made it look like a dresser she'd owned when they first moved into the house, four feet tall and pink with elaborate handles. The drawers didn't move very well at first. From within, any of her pets could withdraw the object of their desire. Butt plugs, dildos, straps, chains, nipple clamps, even twisted items Lucy didn't recognize. An item she created could produce items she didn't create, brought into existence by the desire of the person searching. It fired her imagination and opened up a world of possibilities. Possibilities which required more work.
Her eyes closed. The house and its copulating pairs faded away. Lucy could see the town she'd known her whole life. She floated above it, looking down onto a toy map filled with lights. Some burned a crimson red, her servants and disciples. Others varied in color, the unchanged and unaffected. Lucy knew some of them would never belong to her, others were almost ripe for plucking.
At the edges of her domain, a line of crackling red energy wove through the countryside. It created no physical barrier, but beyond it, she had no power. With each recruited soul, she could push the boundary a little further, but she did not see much point in doing so. Small Creek was big enough for her interests, at least for now. Within the borders, she saw three burgeoning beacons of her power. Her house where she currently resided, the Dairy overseen by Cain and his cohort of cows, and the Garden tended by Bethany and her flowers. The Hogshead glimmered as well, a recently acquired jewel which would soon become another anchor in her empire. A few places remained in opposition to her peculiar interests. A church, First Missionary of Small Creek, a school, and the dilapidated city hall. Each had their own curiosities to unravel.
Lucy understood why a church would exist in opposition to her, but Small Creek had seven churches within her reach. She didn't know why First Missionary of Small Creek should be the one to resist her influence. She considered the two pastors to be an obstacle to overcome, Pastor Colin and Pastor Tanner. Colin was old and set in his ways, but Tanner seemed more pliable. When either of them fell, the souls who followed them would become easy picking.
The school had already been taken care of, in a way. With a wave of her hand, the young of Small Creek vanished. A demonic paradise was no place for children. Curiously, this magic had been the simplest for Lucy to perform, yet a group of seniors remained, apparently oblivious to the fact that their school was otherwise empty. Teachers gave full lectures to empty classrooms. Lunch ladies stood happily waiting to serve ghosts. She picked at the eighteen year olds' thoughts, hearing them making plans for college or moving away. They planned fully on graduating, all six of them in a class that should have been fifty. The blankness of their minds in regards to their friends unnerved even Lucy. Perhaps only Lucy, as she seemed to be the only one capable of remembering the school's purpose at all. After a while, it became hard for her as well.
City Hall she knew to be her final goal. Whatever it stood for could be corrupted and undermined with a little time. The collective values of the community or the sense of normalcy or basic concepts of the physical world — whatever sort of faith the people of Small Creek still held poured into the old building's symbolism. When it became the crown jewel of Lucy's world, she would have complete control over the town she'd called home. Then she could look to other projects.
She focused her gaze on one dark spot moving around the downtown area near her new bar. Lowell
Cammack, the legal owner of the newly christened Hogshead. Lucy frowned. Some souls vibrated with unused potential, some hummed or droned with quiet wisdom. Lowell Cammack's jerked and twisted when she focused on it. It abhorred her attention, folding in on itself over and over to hide the rot in its core. Most of the citizens of Small Creek heard Lucy's song. Her converts listened with rapturous joy while those lightly under the influence heard a distant, pleasant tune. People like Lowell heard nails on a chalkboard when they heard it at all. Lucy did not have much hope for those like him.
But it was work to do. She ended her trance, returning without fanfare to her cushioned chair. With a snap of her fingers, a suit of red latex covered her from head to toe, squeezing her ass and tits tight. Red gloves crawled up her arms to her shoulders, giving her movements a plastic squeak. Her minions looked up with pure adoration in their eyes. "I'm going out," she said. "Try not to have too much fun while I'm gone. Oliver, Alice, finish up with Malcolm and join me, please."
***
At nineteen, Lowell Cammack dated a girl named Melony James. They were together for seven months before the small trailer Lowell owned caught fire. Supposedly, Melony died in the fire. Until then, Lowell had been known as a rapacious, compulsive youth. The community of Small Creek saw the fire as a tempering of his wild nature. While the death of the young woman was tragic, she did not have many prospects. Many considered Melony a bad seed, the daughter of a drunk who was destined for a life of sin. Better for her to go in the flower of youthful innocence such that Lowell could be set on the straight and narrow. No one investigated the fire. It was attributed to a faulty hot plate and shoddy wiring in the trailer.
The truth of Melony James stayed with Lowell Cammack, etched on his being in a place where only creatures like Lucy could read it. Melony James died hours before the fire. Lowell set the fire himself. He stayed inside, taking big gulps of smoke into his lungs, to make sure everyone believed him. He cried false tears to the firemen and police and his parents and Melony's father. The latter looked him in the eye with a hate Lowell would never see again. Not because he wouldn't deserve it, but because he would grow better at hiding his crimes. As to how Melony actually died, not even Lucy could know. The event remained locked away in Lowell's psyche, hidden behind decades of denial.
His sins did not end with Melony James, of course. They became smaller and more insidious, but they pervaded all of Lowell's life. He eventually married, but cheated on his wife. He tried to force her to give up their only child for adoption simply because he didn't want it. She left him for that, so he ruined her financially. In Small Creek, he bought up property whenever it came on the market, a rare event in itself. He rented it back to the people who used to own it, bleeding them out of any money they might manage to save. He stayed away from liquor except on one night each year, perversely the anniversary of Melony's death. He would spend the night in Memphis, drinking himself to death, and enacting terrible violence on whichever poor prostitute caught his eye. He used his profits to pay for the debauchery and sooth the wounds of pimps. Lowell assumed one of the hookers would kill him one day if he didn't stop, which might have been why he did it.
Lowell hid his sins under thin layers of kindness. Keeping on Humphrey, the known drunk, as a cook for years appeared a mercy. In reality, Humphrey worked for cheap so long as his meager pay could be spent on booze. Lowell chaired the local small business association, presumably to help keep Small Creek on the map. Of course, he used his position to muscle out or in businesses he wanted to undercut. He was kind and charismatic in person, but vindictive and bitter in private. Those who knew him best didn't know much about him at all. Lowell could have lived a long life without ever facing consequence for murder or general misanthropy. But, he didn't like it when his peons talked back. It was the one rare peeve that would bring out the real Lowell. Putting up a different sign for the Spanish Moss simply because he hadn't been around a while tickled that peeve to no end. The shingle reading "Hogshead" offended Lowell down to his core. So he pulled over, ready to storm in and yell some sense into Humphrey for thinking himself bigger than the low down drunk Lowell liked to keep around.
In Lowell, Lucy saw nothing redeemable. She saw no secret desire yearning to be unlocked. If she had, she would have found nothing within him that made him deserving of being rewarded. The thought of having him suckle at her breasts appalled her. The idea of empowering him to fuck other women horrified her. She doubted any transformation would be truly able to root out the wickedness so entrenched in his soul. Nor could she excise him from the town. Over the years of his life, the property ownership and debt holding allowed the tendrils of his soulrot to infect the world around him. Even if she were to send him beyond her newly established borders, his existence in the wider world would nag at her. For while Lucy believed herself to be a goddess of pleasurable sin, she did not have much interest in the presence of wickedness.
His fate set in stone the moment he entered the Hogshead. He saw Lucy sitting at the bar, a voluptuous figure of red latex sipping a pink milkshake. Across from her stood Oliver and Alice. Lowell recognized the mousy girl, but he'd never given her much attention before. Two things stood out to him at the moment. One, the fact that she was standing behind his bar as an employee he didn't hire. And two, the fact that her huge tits were about to pop out of the low cut white tank top. The woman in red stood up, picked up her milkshake, and moved to one of the red topped tables. "Mr. Cammack," she said. "I believe we have business to discuss."
***
"
I'm sorry, ma'am," Lowell said, ginning up his usual charm. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know me, but I don't know you."
"
I'm interested in purchasing your bar," Lucy replied.
Lowell's eyes narrowed. He knew something was off about the two behind the bar. Something more than their outfits. They had a shimmer around them like looking at something through frosted glass. "That's an interesting idea, and you certainly look like you'd be lovely to talk it over with. I'm actually stopped by to make sure I still owned the place to begin with. Oliver, where's Humphrey."
"
