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The fire around us burned black, and the patterns that blazed from my olive flesh were the same designs that had decorated Aunt Lucilla, but instead of white, the intricate swooshes and flaming knots smoldered like molten obsidian. And I was not the only Bound One, for as Mom’s back stitched together beneath my palms, her flesh became patterned. The soul of an Elemental had been bound with another, so they marked each other as Petranumen and Vitanimus had done millions of years ago, and from their joining, they created another. Me. The clockwork of the universe was forced into synchronization, and the hands aligned to deliver the fourth Creator to this world. I felt the moisture in the air, mature the rivulets of sweat that rolled down my flesh, the whisper of the sea from the distant bay. A great rush of water shot from the aquifers below, and married itself to the vortex of flame, creating a roiling cloud of black steam that hissed MILF and popped around us. The patterns that formed across my mother were of waves, ripples, droplets and rivers; flowing and intricate like the designs on my flesh, impossibly detailed, and black. The corrupted shell of Petranumen was the third Bound One, and she tinged our bodily patterns to her hue, tattooed herself to our minds, and joined our souls. There would be no saving us from her, no guilt Big Boobs to wrench away the meld. She asian was us, and we were her. The vortex of elements dwindled, and left Mom and me staring at each other, black steam rising from our renewed flesh, black eyes staring intently, lovingly. I giggled, and a gout of black Corruption shot from my lungs, and into the air. Mom laughed with me, her joy singing high, sweet and sonorous, but tinged with something terrible. Just like mine. Our hands trailed over the patterns we’d made upon each other, and the caresses we delivered were affectionate and possessive, loving and cruel. Our red lips did not smile at each other with kindness, but with predation, with a desire to ruin. To corrupt. When I looked at her, I saw the scars of her past plain as day, etched across her psyche like a defaced painting. It was beautiful. I wanted the world to be beautiful like that. “Aunt Lucilla is being raped in hell, Mommy.” I sniggered on her lips. “Are you jealous of her?” Mom grinned back, sinking her fingers into the fat of my ass, and parting my cheeks. Our cocks squished against each other, oozing and throbbing, aching with the terrible perversions our eyes whispered to each other. “Yes.” I hissed, and she did what she does best. Our bodies writhed in the moonlight, moving with beautiful grace and terrible purpose. We made love as torturers, and delighted in the pain we endured and inflicted upon each other. Our hands strangled, our teeth bit, and our voices carried Hardcore from our devouring mouths, echoed across the glass remnants of Drastin, and died in the still night air. If anyone heard it, they would be wise to fear it. Run, hide, and cower. Find a hole within the earth to burrow, and wait out the coming storm. Drastin was just the beginning. End of Book Two Author’s note Unconcerned, they demonstrated anal to their children, and urged them to experiment with each other as they pleased, something both brothers took to with relish. “Sometimes... you just need the guy to seize you and asian make you admit you want him.” She turned her head and flashed me a smile. In no time Niky was under Mariana and raised her head and started eating Mariana and sucking her clit. She never told David, but she hadn’t broken. At 4:30 she stopped back by my office for the last visit of the day. Madison bit her lip and watched as her sister fingered her pussy. “I'm fine,” I grunted. On the second day, The Holy Mother- ON THE SECOND DAY, THE HOLY MOTHER CREATED HATRED, mature FOR MILF ALL THAT IS JOY TURNS TO DUST IN THE END! I opened wide, engulfing the toy. Elsie pressed on, Hardcore soothingly, “Hell, girl, even I’m Big Boobs super-jealous.