Author's Note: Thank you, readers, for your responses and support! It's really kept me going. Sorry that this part was a bit slow coming out, I've been busy with travelling for the Christmas holidays and family stuff. This arc will probably have one more chapter and an epilogue, but I have plans for much more after that! Please follow my profile for updates, and let me know what you'd like to see next!
Content warning: this story contains scenes of noncon/dubcon, futanari, cum inflation, transformation, and cervix penetration.
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Zerase Veronee Amateria had never teleported before. When she activated the Gift of Transport, the material world winked out around her, like a bubble being burst. She became lightwaves and energy, streaming along the edge of reality, psychedelic colors streaming past in bars.
She was grateful not to be going through it alone. Sage Gwynabell of Joramel was along for the ride. They'd been embracing when the physical world melted away, and now their particles and consciousness were melded together. Zerase could sense the Sage guiding them towards the Tower of Heaven.
It seemed like hours, but in reality it was over in seconds. Reality popped back in with a stomach-churning wrench. Zerase had the sensation of momentum and pitched forward, falling in a heap on a rug.
She moaned and sat up, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Sage Gwynabell was standing nearby. Her ageless, elfin features were a mask of impassivity. She idly brushed a stray strand of her spun-silver locks back from her face, then brushed the wrinkles form her diaphanous, mostly-sheer shift.
Despite her queasiness, Zerase felt a flash of heat in her nethers. The Sage of Joramel had a timeless beauty, like a carved figure. Her intentions were impossible to read, but there was no denying that Gwynabell's figure was nearly flawless. Her breasts were perfectly weighty and firm, her areolas the size of large coins with enchantingly pokey nipples. Her hips were smoothly curved, her butt was round and supple, and her legs were long and alluring. It was hard not to feel lusty urges when looking at her.
Of course, Zerase's mind was often dominated by lust and perversion, and it took effort on her part to control her urges. That was due to the Womb Crusher between her legs. Above her pussy, Zerase possessed a titanic cock which she had inherited from her father, Dark Lord Dragomere. It had originally possessed five seals in the form of golden cockrings inscribed with eldritch runes, but after fucking the wombs of four Sages of Tiranea, only one ring remained. With each broken seal, her unquenchable lust had only grown stronger and harder to control. After Zerase smashed Sage Gwynabell's womb, the Womb Crusher's full potential would be unveiled. She shuddered at the thought.
Her mother, the Fallen Empress Amateria, had told her stories about the monstrous weapon - about how her illustrious father had used it to profane and impregnate her mother, resulting in Zerase's birth. But the stories also told of how the Pure Maidens, jealous of her father's potency, had conspired to seal his power with their Pure Wombs, each stealing a bit of his soul. Those fragments gave the Sages their magical Gifts, which Zerase had been taking back one by one. Now only the final Gift remained.
She wanted to tackle Gwynabell and commense fucking her immediately, but she fought back that urge. Her cock was still hanging free of her black leotard, though it had softened a bit after the disorienting feeling of teleportation. Even half-hard, however, the thing was enormous, so big in fact that she wasn't sure what to do with it, and didn't seem inclined to soften any further. The fabric of Zerase's black bodysuit could barely contain the Womb Crusher any longer. At last she decided to tuck it under the cloth anyway, letting it press against her stomach so the underside of her shaft made a lewd outline in her outfit.
They were in the Empress' bedchamber at the top of the Tower of Heaven. Zerase had never been here before, but her mother had described it in great detail, along with the important locations in all of the Holy Cities. Zerase had trained and practiced for ages to prepare for her assault on Tiranea. Although she appeared to be a petite slip of a girl, she was the child of Dragomere, and as such aged much slower than humans. In reality, Zerase was quite a bit older than she looked.
The Empress' lavish four-poster bed lay close at hand, but no Empress in sight. Seeing the bed gave her an idea, however.
"Hey, Your Reverence," she said in a low, husky voice, addressing Gwynabell. "How about I crush your womb on the Imperial mattress?" Her cock throbbed at the thought, stretching the fabric of her bodysuit.
"Patience," counseled Gwynabell in her placid monotone. "Wouldn't you like to track down the Empress first? She's probably in the Orrery."
Gwynabell indicated a set of stairs running up the curved wall of the room. Mom had told her about the Orrery, the semi-enclosed observatory on the roof of the Tower of Heaven. It was the very place in which Dragomere and Amateria had conceived their daughter. Zerase smiled wickedly, appreciating the recurrence of fate that had brought her back here. She mastered the tide of lust growing in her loins and followed the Sage of Joramel up the stairs. Gwynabell's shapely hips and wide backside swayed attractively, making Zerase's self-control that much more difficult.
The Orrery was exactly as Zerase had imagined it. Shelves of equipment and books lined the outer walls. In the center was a massive model of the cosmos, its bronze components rotating smoothly with a soft whir. There were no imperial guards present, thankfully - not that Zerase couldn't have handled them, but it was one less hassle to worry about. This chamber was only accessible by the Empress, and therefore she felt safe here.
And speaking of the Empress, the woman herself, Her Imperial Majesty Heliana, stood with her back to the stairs, hands clasped behind her, contemplating the spinning model silently. Long curls of golden hair hung down her back. The Empress wore a shimmering dress of spun gold, festooned with glimmering sapphires and emeralds. A resplendent crystal diadem perched atop her head.
"Your Imperial Majesty," said Gwynabell.
The Empress started and turned around. Zerase got her first good look at Heliana, the woman descended from her mother's younger sister after the Fallen Empress had fled Tiranea in the Age of Legends. Heliana resembled Zerase's mother in many ways, though the dark magicks Amateria had used to sustain her life through the ages had altered her appearance in many ways. Heliana looked as Zerase imagined her mother must have in youth: pristine, flawless, goddess-like. Her skin was milky and blemishless, her features aquiline and symmetrical. Adorned in jewelry, the Empress' beauty was highlighted by diamond earrings, a sapphire-studded torc, a silver pendant, and shimmering golden bracelets. Heliana's figure was perfection itself. Her breasts, though covered modestly by the conservatively-cut dress, were obviously ripe and firm, and her hips just the right degree of curvaceous. A diamond of cloth was cut alluringingly from her midsection, revealing a flat, smooth stomach, decorated by a ring of diamond in her navel. Her eyes were a lustrous yellow, and they seemed to radiant wisdom, despite her relatively young age. The Empress was only twenty, but already she was beloved by her people and revered for her kindness and sagacity.
Zerase suspected the 'wise Empress' routine was at least partially an act. How could anyone that young by that all-knowing? And sure enough, when the Empress saw the Darkspawn, her mask slipped. Heliana's eyes darted downwards and took in the outline of Zerase's cock. She gave a little gasp, which made Zerase smirk with self-satisfaction. It was going to be fun making the Empress a slave to her cock.
"Gwynabell," began Heliana carefully. Her voice was musical, her elocution practiced and erudite. "How came you here, and who is this person?"
"Apologies, Your Majesty," said Gwynabell. "It was necessary that we arrive unannounced. This is Zerase Veronee Amateria, Darkspawn and Inheritor of the Womb Crusher."
"Amateria..." said the Empress. Then she widened her eyes ever so slightly in surprise. "Then... You are a descendant of Dragomere and the Fallen Empress."
"She catches on quick," said Zerase, looking sidelong at the Sage of Joramel.
"She's had the finest tutors," answered Gwynabell. "She was instructed in history and science by Sage Loralee, in martial arts by Sage Serene, in strategy by Sage Elneeka, and in mysticism by myself. The Empress is an adept in all of our disciplines."
"Interesting," said Zerase. "A jack-of-all-trades. And yet, I've already defeated the masters and taken their Gifts."
"Ah, but Her Imperial Majesty has one thing all those others lack. A treasure from the Age of Legends, gifted by the Goddess to the first Empress."
Gwynabell pointed to the teardrop-shaped pendant which dangled between the Empress' breasts. With a grunt of surprise, Zerase realized it was white-silver, what the ancients called
alarium,
a mythical precious metal which possessed arcane properties. Zerase had only seen white-silver a handful of times in her long life, given its extreme rarity. Smiths who knew how to work the metal were few and far between, as were those who knew how to channel its unique potential. Alarium could, through contact with the skin, enhance a human's physical abilities far beyond normal. A person could run faster, jump higher, lift heavy objects. Grievous injuries could be healed, and debilitating toxins could be neutralized. Any magical abilities, such as the Sages' Gifts or Zerase's Dark Touch, would also see a marked increase. The tradeoff was that one forgot pain and exhaustion when channeling alarium, and could easily die of strain brought on by pushing their body to such extremes.
But alarium had to be carefully worked by smiths, as it was incredibly brittle and its potency was directly related to the size of the piece. Add to that its incredible rareness, and finding an alarium fragment of any significant size was an astounding find. The Empress' pendant was the size of an apricot, a sizable quantity indeed.
"I remember something about this," said Zerase, recognition ringing like a faint bell in her mind. "Twilight's Tear, a lost treasure. I thought it was a myth!"
