Bitter Destruction

A month passed by quickly.  I was nearing the fifth month of pregnancy -- at least I hoped I was; the bottles of water shouldn't have been contaminated, right?  The baby kicked a lot every day, especially at night when I was trying to sleep.  My breasts were a lot more sore than usual.  In fact, they were so sore, I didn't even want Prue to touch them, and that's really saying something.  I guessed I was starting to produce milk but, thankfully, nothing had been leaking out of them.

Phoebe spent a lot of time at the library, studying hard to get through her final exams for college.  When she was home, she was on her laptop typing papers, looking up things, or sleeping on it.  When Cole was around, he looked really lonely because Phoebe was always busy, but he spent more time helping us figure out what this "New Era" was about.  We-- Well, Prue didn't mind it as much, but I didn't like the idea of him going down to the Underworld all the time to get answers. Seeing that misery and look of surrender that masked his facial features worried me for not only my own sake and my child's sake and the sisters' sake, but for his sake too. I would get so distressed about him going back down there that sometimes I would cry, but I blamed it on the hormones.

I think Piper cried a lot during the past month, too.  She was still trying to deal with her new power of blowing things up.  For hours she would spend locked in her room attempting to relax and meditate, playing Japanese music that was supposed to "soothe" her. However, because we all wanted her back to her old self and encouraged her too much to relax, she became more stressed and infuriated that more things blew up unexpectedly.

Anyway, back to my pregnancy issues, I began to outgrow my shirts and Prue's shirts. And her sisters' shirts, too. And I didn't want to wear men's clothes around, so Prue and I went shopping for maternity clothes. I wasn't sure what that was when Prue first told me about it but shopping was fun, so I agreed. Then I actually saw the attire.

Some of it was... pretty, I supposed. But others... most, really, were so frilly and flowy and billowy. It was like a tidal wave on my stomach -- did I mention how much bigger it had become? At least watermelon-sized!

Prue shared my disliking in most of the clothes, but we agreed that I would get some just so I'd have something to wear around the house that didn't always expose the humongous bump of baby. I was in one of the dressing rooms at one of the maternity clothes stores, fumbling with the buttons to one of the shirts Prue'd found for me. I slipped it on and buttoned it back up again, finding it even more difficult than doing it the first time. “Prue!” I whisper-yelled, keeping the shirt closed with my hand.

“What?” she whispered back from behind the door.

“I need your help!”

I heard a weird noise, like a person choking on something. “Open the door,” Prue said quietly from the other side, a grin hidden in her voice. I scoffed as the door clicked open; she was laughing at me.

“It's not funny,” I whined, letting her in all the way before clicking the door back to locked.

She bit down on her bottom lip to imprison the smile. “I know,” she mumbled, “I'm sorry.”

“You should be,” I growled. “Now help me button this, please.”

Prue let go of her lip, half a smile still dangling on her face. She put her hand on top of the hand that I'd kept on the unbuttoned shirt and dropped it to my side, releasing the bunched up middle of the material and baring my chest. I gasped aloud as my face turned a crimson red. “Prue!” I hissed loudly.

Prue's smirk crawled across her lips. “Hush,” she said calmly, putting her hands below my waist to start fixing the buttons into their rightful positions.

“If I would've done that to you, you would've scolded me,” I breathed, my heart doing jumping jacks.

“Probably, yes,” Prue replied, quickly doing the buttons up my middle. “I was out in the hallway looking at more clothes and some ladies were talking about baby names.” Her eyebrows arched up at me but she kept her bright green eyes on another buttonhole. “Have you been thinking about that?”

Honestly, I hadn't much. During the first few weeks of pregnancy, I didn't want to think about becoming attached to the fetus at all. Then the Halliwells found out and it started to grow on me -- or in me, realistically. And then Prue offered using her closet as the nursery or some room that could be the baby's sleeping area, and I realized that Prue wanted to be there and help me deal with this child. But, of course, the happy feelings died down thanks to Cole's wonderful news about The Seer wanting my baby. So, why, with all the ups and downs, would I want to grow fond of this child when there was that possibility that it wouldn't even be mine in the end?

“Not really,” I finally answered in a small voice.

Prue hummed as she finished the second-to-last button, leaving the top button undone to show some cleavage. 'Yes, because pregnant people are so sexy,' my mind groaned. “I think you should,” Prue said, still on the baby-naming topic, I assumed.

I sighed as I glanced over at the mirror. The shirt didn't look too poofy, but it definitely showed that baby bumpage. I wrinkled my nose at the mirror before turning back to the Charmed One. “You think so?” She nodded. “What would you name it?”

Prue snorted. “It's not my baby, silly. It's yours. You should be the only one to decide.”

I rolled my eyes and half-smiled. “I'll think about it and get back to you.”

Prue leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the mouth. “Great,” she purred as she pulled away. “I found some more stuff you can try on,” she said, shuffling around me to get out the door.

“Okay,” I groaned, taking another peek at the mirror across from me. It was amazing how Prue could still love me the way she did even though I felt like a large zit about to pop. She was something special. I glared down at my chest and at the horrible buttons tucked into the shirt. “Oh no,” I moaned. “Pr--”

The alarm went off in my head. A demon. In the building? No, it wasn't that close. My heart and mind raced at the same time. The demon was around and it was hurting someone. An innocent person. He cried out in pain. I cringed. Where the hell was he and the demon? 'The alley!' my mind roared. 'Just around the outside!'

Instantly, I was out of the dressing room and in the alley that my mind apparently sensed but I had no idea where it even was. When I arrived in the alley -- I presumed that was where I was -- I was facing the wall of the maternity store building, my nose against one of the cherry-red bricks outlined in white trim. I spun around, way too fast, and felt dizzy. “Stop!” I yelled, even though I couldn't see any surroundings as I held my head and shut my eyes, regaining my vision.

It definitely was an alley. There were boxes and pieces of trash scattered along the outside of the long and cracked pathway. Colorful graffiti was painted all over the buildings that bordered the path. I could smell a variety of smells: alcohol, aged food, cigarette smoke, among other disgusting aromas. My stomach somersaulted in my gut from the nausea and the nervousness. I still had to find this demon.

Looking around, with one hand veiled over my nose, I couldn't find anything or anyone that appeared to be doing something evil. But the alarm still went off; that innocent was still crying. I walked down one direction of the alley and noticed a door to one of the buildings beside a large blue dumpster. I leaned against the door, listening hard for the cries.

“Please...” I heard a young man's voice say. “Please!”

Swallowing my fear, I pushed the door open, yelling “Stop!” once more. Behind the door, in a small closet-like room, an adolescent boy, not much older than 15, was crying softly, jammed between a brick wall and a very curvaceous person with curled strands of red-orange hair. “Release him!” I shouted, feeling a tingle of warmth grace my fingers.

The red-orange haired demon let out a booming chuckle. “And who is demanding this from me?!” she bellowed back, turning away from the whimpering teenager and staring into my eyes. Immediately, I realized that I knew this demon. I knew the fiery look in her yellow eyes and her olive-colored skin. I recalled that same cackle, though it was much lighter against my ear. Her... body. I remembered that well.

It was her, Lyca. The only other woman I'd ever been with besides Prue.

She remembered me, too, it seemed, for that brightness returned to her lemon-colored irises. “Ah,” she said, releasing the young man from her grasp. He fell to the floor in a cowering heap, cradling his legs to his chest. “Why, Virgin, it is you,” she acknowledged me, strutting towards me.

The cold air blew out the fire from my palm. I backed away from her, stepping out of the closet and back onto the cracked alleyway. “Lyca,” I whispered, the nausea becoming worse.

She smiled, her teeth razor sharp and matching the color of her sinful eyes. “I miss you, Virgin,” she continued, pushing me further back until I hit the brick wall of the maternity store. “Demons say that you left your duties! All of them and me miss you!” Her body was becoming closer and closer to mine. My skin was suddenly clammy. Against my will, I started to revisit the day that Lyca came to my room

It was less than one year ago. The bedroom was hot that day -- or maybe it was night, I never really knew. Zero'd been gone most of that day, so I was mostly alone for hours and hours. Journaling didn't seem appealing, and my piano had been sulking in the corner for days. I just wasn't up for anything that day...until I felt this huge craving that I hadn't had in a long while. A severe craving for sex.

What a surprise, right? The Source's daughter, used for only sexual reasons and used very frequently, to add, was actually horny? Yeah, I didn't understand it either, but sometimes I'd just get the hugest urge to do it -- despite how many times I had done it.

Because no one was present to feed my desire, I found that the only way to feel release was to do it myself. I'd changed out of my clothes, standing completely naked, and fell onto my bed. One of my hands trailed up to my breasts, delicately squeezing them in turns; my opposite hand snaked between my thighs, penetrating feverishly into my wet pussy. Biting my lip, I continued to masturbate, not even close to climaxing after several minutes of my own assault, until knocks boomed at my door.

Usually when I heard those knocks, I felt shivers of fear, but not this time. Eagerly, I'd run to the door, fumbling with a silk, black robe that I'd quickly tied on when I leapt from the bed, and turned the knob. “Yes?”

“You have a visitor,” the guard replied, as monotone as ever.

My stomach was doing flips of excitement. I needed something inside me, and I needed it fast. I nodded as if I was reluctant to accept this visitor into my room. The guard stepped aside, letting a woman come into view. A... woman? I swallowed whatever excitement was still present and felt the taste of disappointment crawl back up. 'Damn it,' my mind whimpered.

Walking away from her, I sat down on my bed, twiddling with the knot of my robe. “You're me treat then, hm?” the demonic woman asked, advancing toward me. She wore a red cloak over her dark skin that matched her red lipstick. “Wonderful,” she marveled.

I nodded. “What's your name?”

“Lyca,” she answered obediently. “Yours?”

“It's probably better if you don't know it,” I said, my eyes slightly narrowed.

She copied my stare, except for the gleaming grin of knifelike teeth. “Fine,” she replied. “Take the robe off and stand against the wall.”

Her command had taken me aback, but the arousal was beginning to overcome me once more. My hands undid the knot and I let the material slip off of my shoulders. I caught the sudden burst of approval that glimmered in her golden eyes. She jutted her head upward as a signal for me to keep moving back. Once my back hit the red clay wall, she was there in front of me. She was extremely wide, yes, but not fat necessarily. Her breasts were one of the largest sizes ever discovered, I would've imagined, and her hips had their own country and ocean upon them, but she was only stretched in width not depth. “Put your hands above your hand. Don't put them down,” she commanded, her stale breath warm. Shivering, I nodded and raised my hands over me, clasping them together.

Lyca didn't kiss me at all, but she kept her mouth at a very miniscule distance from my skin. She perched her thick, dark hands on the outside of my body, trapping me against the wall. I heard her sniff and inhale my scent. She'd gone past my face and now was at the center between my pair of breasts. Her eyes flickered upward, catching my eyes peering down at her, and her cheeks popped out of her skin as she smiled. Finally, her lips rested on my left nipple, glazing it with saliva. I moaned aloud and whimpered as she bit down with her sharp teeth -- it hurt but felt so good all at once. She tweaked the other aching nipple with her thumb and index fingers, driving me mad.

I made many noises: growls, whimpers, groans, and pleas. All of them were turning her on, I could tell. Her eyes kept flashing with desire as she continued her attack. She'd gone past my stomach and knelt between my legs. Her hands fell from the wall and pried my thighs apart. Her broad nostrils flared more as she inspired the scent of my deep arousal. A soft moan left her mouth, tickling my lips. Without warning, she plunged into me with her tongue as though she were trying to eat me like ice cream. My body spasmed as it was consumed by bliss and ecstasy. I'd had other demons orally please me before, too, but Lyca knew just where to touch and taste to make my stomach feel like it was going to blow up and fall out of me. The tip of her tongue caressed my clit, leaving me begging for mercy to make me orgasm. But she knew well that I would not get what I wanted.

Lyca pulled back, literally slurping my juices from her chin, and stood back up. Thanks to the temperature and the rush of pleasure, I was sweating like I was in a sauna. My hands, though clammy to an extreme, were bound tightly above my head. I couldn't stop panting. “Turn around,” Lyca ordered in a ragged tone.

“You miss me, too, have you not?” Lyca said in the present, her wild hair flying in the sudden shove of wind. Parts of the memory continued to play in my head as I listened to her. Lyca's hands slipped beind my back and rubbed over the curving of my bum. “I miss... your tightness.” A shuddering breath escaped me as I was brought back into the recollection.

Wh-what...” I breathed heavily into the wall, “will you... do n-now?”

Simply, she stated, “Thrust.”

Confused, I turned my head at an angle, but she'd already pushed in. Forced back into my first position, with my forehead against the red boundary, I cried out first in pain, but then, after another thrust, in pleasure. “Y-y-you have... a toy?” I asked, ending my question with a whimper. It was awfully large.

Grunting, Lyca responded with, “No, I have two cocks,” as she proceeded to finish the job.

My eyes bulged out of their sockets. Did she really say that? “T-two -- ugh! -- cocks?!” I cried, my hands turning pink from the hold.

“Yes,” she said. “Me parents were siblings. Malfunction, I guess. It's -- mm -- hard enough to get rid of one hard-on,” she said, panting against my ears. “Two is near impossible!”

Her member, one of them, obviously, began to hit my g-spot, making it very difficult for me to focus on anything but moving my hips to meet her thrusts. I felt her pull out, leaving me empty. “Oh, fuck!” I cried, grinding on my teeth in frustration.

“Me other hurts too bad. It's ready.” The thrusting reoccurred inside me, bringing back that tingling ache of a near-orgasm. Then I felt something position itself at my backside. The tip of a cock. She was going to put both in.

“N-n-n-no-no-no!” I screamed. “I'm a virgin there!”

Lyca's movement came to a halt, and I gasped with relief. “Virgin,” she panted, “time to break.”

“You have child, Virgin?” Lyca asked, glancing down at my round torso. “I was told that was impossible for you.”

I couldn't speak. I was too wrapped up in the memory.

”Ahh!” I screamed out, a pressure burning up my body. My vaginal fluids had lubricated her member as she thrusted into my untouched canal. To get deeper, she wrapped her black arms around my belly, plunging harder and faster into me. It hurt, oh god it did, but I was urging her on, pleading for her to not stop.

I was drenched with sweat. I felt every vein tingle with anticipation. I needed it all over again. Real.

Grabbing her face with my hands, I kissed her, deep and heavy, breathing down her throat. Lyca growled and pushed me back. Her leather pants revealed a constriction for her present erection. “Fuck,” she snarled, placing her hand over the area and rubbing.

I put my hand out, to touch the part for her and relieve her like she had me before, but a voice immobilized me. She said my name. Confused. Afraid. Angry.

I hungered for Lyca, who stared at me, ready for me to make a move on the bystander, but when I didn't, she turned her attention that way. Infuriated at her for turning away, fire grew in my open palm and flew in her direction, disintegrating her in seconds.

I dared not to look at her as I stayed in that position, staring at the sudden pile of ash in front of me. She was frozen too. Staring at me. Regrettably, I tore my vision from the soot and to her pained green eyes, trying to find words to explain what she just saw.

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