Sisters of Sodom

"Good luck getting it from her, you sand-sucking cunt!" Eudora huffed in between groans of anguish. Her entire face was now a mask of singed tissue and blood, her eyelids almost burnt shut, her hair mostly gone. "You can't take it from her, she has to give it to you willingly. She'll never do that for such a vile bitch as you..."

"Let's put that to a test," Makeda replied casually, releasing the Viking girl from her magical snare. Sølvi did not hesitate to run towards Makeda, her axe screaming for vengeance. Her ignorance about the strange steel weapon in the woman's hands meant that Makeda's counterattack was effortless.

The woman raised her rifle, aimed, and cleanly blew Sølvi's right arm off.

The young girl shrieked in pain, fragments of her exploded limb flying in the opposite direction along with her axe. She tumbled to the floor, bleeding profusely and in complete shock.

Eudora knew this was now or never. If she had any chance of beating Makeda, she would need Sølvi's artifact. "Sølvi! Give it to me! The sacred belt...I can still fight, if you give it to me!"

Sølvi was already completely dazed from blood loss, her sunburnt skin blanching in blotches, her eyes wide. She could not respond, only wheeze, the room beginning to spin around her.

"Damn it, Sølvi! Do you hear me? Give it to me...give me the artifact! I can save us both! And Gary, too! Give me the...fucking belt! Give it to me!" Eudora shouted in a fog of greed, heat and physical pain.

The Viking girl felt that she had no choice. Perhaps the punk pythoness was right. The belt might be more effective in the hands of Eudora, whose destructive abilities were clearly greater than her own. With all of her might, she managed to reach down with her remaining arm and find the runic buckle of her belt. Their eyes met.

And then their eyes met twice.

Was this another illusion brought on by blood loss? Sølvi could not tell, but suddenly there were two identical Eudoras, and they were both saying the same things in exactly the same voice: "Give it to me! Give me the belt!"

With trembling fingers, Sølvi tore the belt free and, picking randomly, handed it to Eudora.

"I-I bequeath the...cough...belt of my fore...fathers...cough...to...."

"Say it!" the woman barked.

Sølvi felt her world begin to quickly fade. She thought of loyal Lysvinge, and of the stoic arctic beauty of the forest of her homeland, and of all of the wondrous things she'd seen in the outside world.

She did not regret her life, even if it had to end like this. At least, she hoped, she could pass the artifact onto someone else, rather than have it perish with her. No matter what, the spirits of the Norse gods would live on. This thought was what gave her peace as she mouthed the words,

"...You..."

There was an immediate cackle of laughter, and then Makeda reappeared several feet away with the Viking belt in her hand. "Good choice, my child."

"An illusion?!" Eudora shouted in utter outrage. "How did—"

"Not an illusion, Eudora. A copy. Your DNA is just one pattern in this universe, and it is not inimitable..."

"Impossible!"

"There you go again with your defeatism. I did not teach you every trick for a reason. Witchcraft is not all about necromancy and fireballs, you know..." Makeda said, and then her eyes returned to the dying Viking girl.

"And you, the one called Sølvi. By now I hope you've figured out that Eudora only wanted this from you. But it all works out in the end, you see. Your entire creed existed only to serve this one historic end, and it is a glorious one. Rest in peace, little Viking girl..."

Sølvi could not respond. She only coughed up blood, the light quickly fading from her eyes. She fixed her gaze on Eudora, then her body spasmed and fell lifeless, her face frozen in an expression of deep shock, remorse and betrayal.

"Well, well, Eudora. Now that your little pawn has been put down, it looks like it's just you and me now..." Makeda said. "Or is it?" Her eyes lifted from the punk pythoness's pathetic frame to the doorway. From behind her, Eudora could hear footsteps. And then a familiar pair of voices, one deep, one high-pitched and annoying.

"Excellent," Ayaka said.

"Wow, you really did a number on her! You go, Mistress Makeda!" Hailey followed, clapping her hands loudly. Both women stepped into the room to behold the sight of Eudora, who was now a deformed, bloated, half-bald woman in nothing but boots and underwear, clasping her shovel uselessly.

"H-how..." Eudora could only grumble, staring up at the three women. "How..."

"How? It's easy, lumpy," Hailey said, doing a little victory dance. "Y'see, we all decided that it would be better to have Makeda ascend to the throne than you."

"No..."

"Oh yes," Ayaka interrupted, "the simple fact is that neither you, nor me, nor Hailey can stop Makeda. As much as I dislike ceding my own ambitions, if I had to choose between Makeda and you, I would definitely choose her as High Pythoness."

"Why?!" Eudora shouted. "Are you fucking lesbian lovers or something?!"

"You wouldn't understand," Ayaka said cooly, sharing a knowing smirk with the tall dark woman next to her. "In any case, that is not the basis for our little collusion. We merely all agree that you would be a disgrace to the entire order of pythonesses if you were to ascend to the throne. Makeda may have violated a few sacred rules, yes, but she is still a far more respectable candidate for ruler than you. Think of her as the lesser of two evils if you will, though I suspect you may take that as a compliment."

Eudora's trembling, cracked lips parted and she attempted to spit at Ayaka, but ended up just swallowing into her own lungs by accident, and began to cough. Above her the three superior women laughed.

When she saw Makeda begin to lift her rifle, fear shot through the punk pythoness, and she made one last desperate ditch—she suddenly jumped towards Hailey, tackling her right next to Sølvi's dead body.

Eudora spotted a stone dagger still strapped to Sølvi's side and snatched it, placing it against Hailey's neck. "Hold it, bitch!" she barked at Ayaka. "I know this little slut means a lot to you. You won't pull any more fake death tricks now. It's gonna be for real this time if you don't do as I say!"

Ayaka cocked her head to the side, giving Eudora a curious look. Hailey did not react fearfully as Eudora expected, but merely relaxed her tight little body, and began to laugh gleefully. The hipster girl's eyes met Ayaka's, and they shared a very brief but tender look.

"It was an honor to serve you, Mistress Ayaka," Hailey said calmly in between giggles. "Thank you for the opportunity..."

"What?!" Eudora shouted. She moved the dagger closer to the girl's throat as if to warn her, but it had no effect. Ayaka reached into the black satin satchel slung over her toned shoulders, fingering something inside of it.

"You were a lovely spell," Ayaka said. "I shall miss you, Hailey. Goodbye, my dear."

"Goodbye, my lovely goddess Ayaka..." Hailey concluded solemnly, then resumed her maniacal laugher.

With that, Ayaka's hand swung outward, hurling a four-pronged shuriken directly at Hailey's heart. It cut straight through, exiting her back only to be stopped by Eudora's breastplate. Hailey fell back towards her, still giggling loudly as she bled to death over her.

"Get...off!" Eudora said, shoving Hailey off of her. The red spot broadening around the hipster girl's stomach sullied her designer t-shirt, and she began to soil her acid-wash bluejeans, all the while cackling insanely. Soon the laughter died out and Hailey's body ceased its movement.

Eudora then felt the remaining two women's hands around her, ripping off her sacred breastplate, then her Giyǣda ring, and then every other item she had on her until she was nude. She tried to fight back, swing her arms, attempting spells, but all of it was quashed by the overwhelming power of the combined forces of Ayaka and Makeda.

Makeda first fastened the Viking belt around her waist.

There was a thunderous rumble that filled the air. And then from between Makeda's legs quickly emerged an immense dark phallus, larger even than that of its previous owner, that moved seemingly of its own accord like an asp.

It extended to Eudora, wrapping itself around her and squeezing her until she could barely breathe, hoisting her high in the air. The punk pythoness could not believe this was happening. All of her efforts appeared to have come to naught, and now she was at the mercy of merciless women.

With that, the other prized artifacts were donned one by one—ornate anklets salvaged from the Bolivian amazon, bracelets unearthed from a deep Welsh bog, earrings plucked from high nests above Eurasia, shinguards found in ancient Vedic casks...and finally the Giyǣda ring and trusty breastplate Eudora once coveted.

When it was done, Makeda's body shimmered with untold power. Ayaka beheld the woman, seeing clearly that she had the mark of a true High Pythoness despite the petty jealousy that ran through her veins. She bowed slightly to Makeda, who then reached for her gun again.

Makeda drew Eudora closer with her immense mystic phallus, its sinew flexing around the punk pythoness's blubbery and distorted frame.

Eudora then felt the butt of the woman's cold rifle touch her forehead.

"N-no.." Eudora wheezed. "No..."

"Oh, yes, my little failed pupil. I would tell you to say your prayers, but there is no god or spirit who would listen to a pathetic wretch like you. So I bid you farewell."

"Wait," Ayaka interrupted, taking a step closer. "Wait please, Goddess Makeda."

Makeda looked back at the tough Japanese pythoness and raised her eyebrow. "Surely you do not have sympathies for this swine?" Makeda said, glancing at Ayaka curiously.

"I do not. But you characterized her correctly. She is a swine. And I would like to give her the fate of one. A simple bullet to the head is not enough."

Makeda deliberated as Eudora's bones began to compress under the massive penile coil. "Hmm. If you wish, you can have her. I have nothing personal to settle, but clearly you do..."

Ayaka grimaced, recalling yet again the humiliation she endured in Aokigahara forest, the complete disgrace and pain it caused. She could kill Eudora hundreds of times over and never feel complete satisfaction with her revenge, she knew. All she could do was live with her anger. But if she must, then Eudora must live with her anger, as well.

"My Goddess Makeda," Ayaka said, finding it difficult to refer to someone who was once a peer—a rival—in such a reverent way, "it would be the only thing I ever ask of you. For old time's sake, if you will, I beg that you let me have my way with this...swine."

"Very well," Makeda said, dropping Eudora to the floor. "I will leave you to it, then. I grow tired now. I believe I will take a nap..." the tall glimmering woman said, brushing past the Japanese pythoness and offering her the slightest smirk.

"Yes, my Goddess Makeda," Ayaka mumbled, then focused her attentions on the ball of hurt festering on the floor. Already, it was hard to believe that this pitiful person used to be the most feared pythoness of all. "Contrary to what you may think, you're going to live a nice, long life, Eudora..." Akaka said, her eyes wide with a new madness. "A very long, pitiful life..."

Ayaka lifted her hands. She could sense that Eudora's spirit was finally broken; what magic power she had left, she did not have the spirit to conjure it. Her quest had ended in failure, and with it, her passions faded to a gray, bitter pall. Just the weakness of spirit, in fact, for Ayaka's next spell to take hold easily.

"Snieg Â-Iach'e!" Ayaka chanted.

Immediately Eudora felt her body begin to shrink, but not back to its original shape. Rather, it contorted more grotesquely, with a pale layer of fuzz beginning to grow over her flesh. The color of her skin began to change, as well, growing paler, then a deep spotted pink.

When she attempted to speak, a horrifying sound came out of her mouth. It was a nasal croak at first, followed by a snort. And then something very close to the oink of a pig.

Ayaka laughed to herself, pleased with her incantation. The oldest witch spell in the book, but she had always been a fan of the classics. She watched with increasing glee as Eudora the punk pythoness transformed before her eyes, growing a snout where her disfigured nose once was, her lips thinning and then stretching back, her eyes shrinking to little dots.

"Oink! Snort, snort, oiiink!" was the only thing Eudora could produce at this point. She felt her breasts taper painfully, morphing into fuzzy, drooping udders. From the small of her back sprouted a curled tail, and her ears grew to double their size, thinning into sensitive flaps.

She made an attempt to run away, but there was no way she'd be able to climb back up through the hole she'd blown in the floor; it was simply too high up. Even if she could make it that far, a pig in the Ethiopian desert would not last long at all.

With a curl of her finger, Ayaka drew Eudora to her. And then, knowing Eudora's true weakness well, she reached down and removed one boot. Unsurprisingly, sock smelled very ripe from whatever desert trawling she'd been doing in preparation for this encounter.

In her new state, Eudora had no will to resist the stink she craved so much. With a loud oink, she dug her snout between the moist cotton webs of Ayaka's red and black-striped socks, inhaling her strong essence deeply.

"Come, my piggy," Ayaka said the minute she could see that Eudora had been reduced to nothing but a mere animal. An animal with human memories and thoughts, yes, but with animal instincts that overpowered any desire to resist Mistress Ayaka's ways.

And that would be the worst torture of all, they both knew. The Eudora that once struck fear into the hearts of scores of sorceresses was no more. Her soul now lay in this 250 lb. swine, shouting obscenities that nobody could understand. All of her thoughts, all of her feelings, only came out one way:

"Oiiiiink!"

And then, Ayaka touched Eudora's sweaty, fleshy head, staring into her eyes. "The war is over, pathetic girl. Your new life will be to entertain my guests back in my estate in Japan. Yes, some of my guests will be pythonesses. And yes, I will tell them all who you used to be. And yes, if they wish to abuse you in any way they wish, I will let them, for a small price..."

"Oink, grrrrunt!"

"But I will never let them kill you, Eudora. Only when you cease to entertain us will your be put to rest. And then, good use. Roasted over an open flame, to be made into a meal for my lovely spider pets..."

In Eudora's shattered mind, a million inarticulate retorts, curses, vicious spells, sharp comebacks, threats and so on flew around, going nowhere; they all came out as noise, inspiring more laughter from Ayaka.

Eudora's tiny black eyes scanned the carnage in the vast room one last time, her eyes falling on Sølvi's still body.

That frozen look in the innocent girl's eyes suddenly reignited a suppressed regret that lay buried somewhere in Eudora's dark soul. In another time, in another place...

But it was too late for that now.

THE END