Dora gets a taste of true power [Corruption]

Alright. Alright. Everyone chill the fuck out.

I didn’t kill Dora. She’s fine, mostly. Let your girl cook, ‘kay?

Remember how I said divine mandates prevent us hellspawn from tampering with mortal souls? Well, that rule applies in the overwhelming majority of cases.

But our little Diva made some very specific requests.

She wanted to be like me.

She craved the power to punish the Bevans of the world for their petty cruelties.

And, most importantly, she wanted the satisfaction of being the one dishing out their punishment herself.

That kind of hoodoo comes with a price tag attached.

Your typical human soul is inviolate. Normally, I can’t touch it. Property of heaven and all that happy-clappy church nonsense.

Except under very specific conditions, when I’ve been explicitly invited to do so.

Now, I may have been three sheets to the wind, but I was still well within my contractual rights to get a little hands-on.

So I fractured Dora’s soul. Just an itsy-bitsy crack. Barely noticeable. Like a chip in a windshield.

No harm done, right?

It was only enough to pry open her metaphysical senses.

To let her glimpse the supernatural energies swirling around her.

To give her a taste and leave her hungry for more.

She didn’t disappoint.

The instant Dora felt that power, she inhaled it like a diver surfacing for air, sucking it in through the crack in her soul.

The vortex died, and the glowing nimbus winked out as she slowly lowered back to the ground. An immensely satisfied grin spread lazily across her plump, ruby lips.

“Goodness,” She purred huskily. “That was quite the rush. I didn’t expect… oh, I can feel it. The power. It’s all around us. In everything. It’s all energy.”

Well, duh. Any two-bit physicist could have told her that. But I wasn’t about to ruin the moment.

“As you say, mistress,” I said demurely, bowing. “Now yours to command.”

Dora’s smoky eyes flicked towards me, and the languid smile widened, exuding an unshakable confidence she lacked an hour ago.

“Is it now?” She inspected her hands as though seeing them for the first time, then the rest of her transformed body. “Goodness. What did you do to me, you naughty demon? I look like a whole new woman.”

I had to agree, Dora looked hotter than hell’s pepper patch, standing naked and proud in the gloomy basement. I was getting aroused staring at my own handiwork.

Am I good or what?

“This lowly **** merely gave her mistress a peek at the hidden truths of the greater cosmos.” I lied through my teeth. “Mistress’s talent and ability took care of the rest.”

She wasn’t buying it, but didn’t seem overly bothered either.

“The greater cosmos could have gone easier on my tits.” She said wryly, cupping her massive orbs. “Though I cannot say I am completely disappointed, but where will I purchase clothing that will fit me?”

Biting back a snide comment about the ingratitude of greedy mortals, I cocked a slender brow, affecting a confused air.

“Mistress? Why would someone in your position need to purchase anything?”

She mulled over that for a heartbeat before letting out a throaty laugh and twining her hands above her head like a belly dancer.

“Why indeed!”

Humming and swaying, Dora brought them down, feathering her fingers across her slim shoulders and giant chest.

Magic rippled outward wherever she touched. Midnight silk bloomed into existence like liquid ink spreading across flawless skin, weaving itself into a figure-hugging gown. The risqué number clung to her sensational curves while accentuating her best assets with a plunging neckline, a tightly belted waist, and layered gossamer skirts that ended above her knees.

Ebony garters and lace stockings materialized, showcasing mouthwatering legs. Sleek pointed-toe heels capped impossibly petite feet. Finally, a black diamond choker slithered into existence, fastening a fortune in rare gemstones around her elegant throat.

She took on the appearance of the ultimate dark seductress. The quintessential evil sorceress shamelessly stolen from fairytales. Busty, bewitching, yet terrible in her beauty.

And every stitch, buckle, and jewel consumed the precious energy she’d so recently acquired.

This is what legal professionals call a gotcha.

Dora gasped, feeling the drain. Power spilled from her ruptured soul, burning away almost as quickly as it gathered. She doubled over, clutching her middle as though struck.

“Wha… What was that?” She groaned. “It hurts–”

“Yes, I imagine such a lavish expenditure could cause discomfort,” I interrupted blithely, patting her on the shoulder. “The first time usually does. But don’t worry, mistress. Replenishing your magical mojo is a far more… rewarding experience.”

I gently steered her toward boneheaded Bevan, who’d curled into the fetal position on the floor.

“Replenishment? Ohhh…”

I didn't need to peer through her eyes to know what she was seeing. The pitiful subject of her ire looked like a rich source of vital life energy with a gooey spiritual center.

He was a thick, juicy steak dangled before a starving she-wolf.

In a way, ol’ craterface got his wish. Now he was irresistible to at least one woman.

“I shouldn’t,” She murmured, gnawing her bottom lip.

“But you could.” I crooned, guiding her a step closer. “It would fill that aching emptiness inside, and it doesn't have to hurt. You can make it feel good if you want. Didn’t he deceive you? Betray you? Aren’t you owed a little payback?”

Dora didn’t need reminding. All the anger and rage I’d stoked earlier still remained, simmering beneath the surface. I wasn’t even pushing any emotional buttons anymore.

The next move was entirely hers.

Eyes drifting shut, she drew in a long, steady breath—and Christ above, those fantastical funbags heaved like ships at sea—before finally reaching a decision.

“Bev! Oh, poor Bev, are you alright?”

She crouched beside the treacherous cockroach, resting a hand on his arm, radiating care and concern. I almost broke into spontaneous applause at the performance.

That’s my girl!

“D-Dora?” He croaked weakly. “W-what happened? Am I ill?”

“You collapsed during the ritual,” she explained, gently rolling him onto his back. Her delicate hands glided across his marshmallow physique. “But everything’s okay now. I’m here.”

“You… you are?” Bev’s eyes were glazed, unseeing. “That’s nice. I'm so weak. My head is stuffed with cotton wool…”

Dora bent down, practically smothering his face in her epic tits as she took a big sniff. When nothing happened, she shot me a questioning glance.

Suppressing a sigh, I tilted my head meaningfully toward his lap. A definite bulge tented his jeans, the denim darkened by a wet patch. She grimaced but didn’t falter.

“You took a nasty fall and bumped your head,” she cooed sweetly. “Just rest for a minute. I’ll take care of you.”

“O-okay.” Came the muffled reply.

Hunger warred with disgust in her expression as she unzipped Bevan’s fly and gingerly fished out his stiff cock. You’d think she was holding a dead rat by the tail with how she pinched the mediocre length between her thumb and forefinger.

Then it twitched, and he groaned, expelling a small waft of pure lust.

Dora squeaked in surprise, then quickly inhaled, consuming the power with rapturous relish.

“Mmmm,” She moaned, a delicious shudder running through her. “That feels… incredible.”

Of course it did. I managed not to roll my eyes.

Dora was literally huffing unfiltered desire, passion, and carnal longing. That was heady shit. Even a seasoned pro like me could get blasted on the stuff.

Speaking of which…

Swaying slightly, I crouched beside her, dissolving my slutty office wear until all that remained were black lace lingerie, silk stockings, and towering heels.

“It feels even better if you drink directly from the source,” I whispered into her ear. “Right now, you’re only catching a second-hand buzz. Aren’t you curious what the real thing feels like?”