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Jan 26

Make It Monstrous

Sunday Poll: Lady Dimitrescu / Sex Worker Reader | Multifandom

Your body is given to Lady D to fufill a debt. But what if you've already resound yourself to oblivion and instead found a pair of breasts you'd like to die in.

Warning : ⚠️ Dead Dove 🕊️ Don’t Eat / Blood and Major Gore / Vampire / Big Lady Kink / Tenticle Kink / Tongue Kink / Reader Body Gore/ Primal - Prey Kink / Pain and Pleasure / Lady D's Claws / Religious Kink / Mother Miranda Lore / Daughter Bugs Mentioned / The Village Resident Evil / Castle is a Maze / Oral sex / Sex Worker Slurs / Vivid Cuts / Not good use of rosary beads / 5k words? NOT SANE / Breast Gore / Smothering Kink / Reader is Ready to Die / 18+

Your hand held an ink black beaded rosary, you shivered from the water that was still dripping from your hair.

Upon your arrival to this haunted home you had been driven nearly to frost bite. As a maid who did not introduce herself stripped you of your dress upon arrival. Not caring of your decency but ridding you of the stained fabric, the traces of ugly blood stains and evidence of men's enjoyment of you.

Your face and body may have been stripped of the dirt, but just like a horrible memory, under your fingernails were still dark with dried blood and dirt.

Just as your soul would never be clean.

You stated at your surroundings, your nipples hard from the violent cleaning.

You had been transported from the village. Where you had worked in the oldest living profession.

Was this what your mother had wanted for you, no.

Did you love being taken in the dark by men who smelled of booze and adultery.

No, but you’d been saving money. And making it a hell of a lot faster than being some barmaid.

But your stupid brother (well, half brother) had fallen into a gambling debt, and without parents - it seemed his burdens were yours.

Even though you had never been at the card table, somehow you had been gifted like a workhorse to settle his large charge.

That’s how you were brought to the castle.

At first you thought like so many others that you were to be worked to the bone as a maid. Then killed in whatever mysterious way made all those young women go missing.

But once the brutal cold gave it’s final kiss to the back of your bare ass, and you’d been dropped into the foyer on the castle.

You were no longer sure what you were here to do.

The dampness from your rough bathing made your skin seem to glow in the dim light.

Engulfed in it’s heat, large fireplaces booming with life. Light casting shadows on clawfoot lounge french furniture around you. The kind of high end items that demanded to be looked at but not touched by the likes of you.

You were sure that whatever life in the village, was far behind you.

That whatever awaited you in the castle, this was to be your final act.

You just prayed it was a quick end.

You were not born in the village, not like your half-brother.

Your mother had taken you far away from this place as an infant. Many people had commented on how it showed, that you were never aware of their ways.

Your still damp feet seemed such a stark contrast to the marble floor, as you tiptoed deeper inside.

Small puddles trailing behind you in the shape of footprints.

You couldn’t help but wonder when someone would pop out and slit your throat.

Just because you hadn’t been raised with the superstitious folk below this intimidating castle…it didn’t mean your mother had not spoken the lore.

The large woman with her monstrous form, her hunger. Her sickly sink and horrible temper. Her three daughters and their scythes and bugs. Could the stories be true? Or was it just folktails to make you eat your vegetables and make good decisions?

Good decisions was something you’d give up long ago.

You held the rosary closer. It had been the only object you’d been able to keep.

You’d love to consider it silly that in your final moments the beaded rosary in your hand gave comfort. Just as your mother had hoped it would.

You felt in the shadows of your fate to be a hypocrite, holding the rosary.

You did not hold the beads with the intentions to pray to Christ, or even Mother Mary.

No, you were raised to pray to a very different mother.

Now you pondered if this was the day you’d meet your ‘creator’ the great and powerful Mother Miranda.

You stepped closer into the room, careful not to touch the enormous carpet.

A bead of water dropped from the tip of your hair down your spine and then over the curve of your bare ass.

Your shoulders squared, not embarrassed by what you were or why you were here.

You had lost prudish things many years ago.

Your thumb pinched the round bead into your pointer finger so hard it would leave a mark.

You gave another three steps into the room. With its velvet drapes, its gold leafing and vast paintings.

You found no beauty in any of it.

One more step inside, you tried not to linger on the doors, the possible exits.

You did not pray, didn’t utter Mother Miranda's name in this space.

Bt the further time ticked on, and no one came out to speak to you, the longer you were sure you were in a game.

A game you had never been prepared for. Did not understand the rules to.

You twist around to see if your ears were betraying you, or if someone might be behind you, stalking you, watching you.

You look up the grand stair cases that curl with their old wood up to the next level.

Do you dare to go up?

Do you leave?

You wouldn’t survive, your damp hair and that snow would surely take your toes before you made it out of the strange gardens.

You fist the rosary, and bring your body into the middle of the vast space. It’s ceiling higher than you’d ever seen.

You wait.

Another bit of water runs down the underside of your breast, down your stomach, then drops onto the marble floor.

“I didn’t know prostitutes carried rosary beads.” A melodious, silky woman's voice rang out from the top floor. It was too easy, how she could break the silence.

Your knees buckled and you tried to lok up to find her.

You were quiet for another moment, but you figured if this was the end of your life you might as well speak.

“They were my mothers.”

“Yes, that emblem, at the end, Mother Miranda. Here I thought you were new in this land.” The owner of the house spoke with such certainty, you’d never heard anyone take up space like this before.

You back up and curl your head to the left to see if you could find where the noise was coming from.

“I-I, I mean, are you M-mother Miranda?” You question, not really sure what was story and what was fact.

A booming chuckle could be heard, it started deep and then ended flittering a lady like.

“My, my no, I must say - I had hoped for a virgin. You would have been a devine addition, but you’ve been soiled by some village man things.” The merciless voice now spoke as though she was talking to herself about you, not to you anymore.

Your rosary beads are held tightly as they cast a long skinny shadow onto the ground.

You try to keep your breathing even, show no fear.

“You are a curious little thing.”

“If this is my end, may I make a request?” You dare to try, figring if you don’t ask, you won’t get.

“Let’s here it?” Her tone is more monotone, but there’s a hint of curiosity.

“Make it monstrous.” You say, and this is met with silence.

Graveyard type of silence that promised to last forever.

It stretched on until a nine foot tall figure came down the steps, materializing like a lady - not a beast in front of you.

Her long brimmed hat made it look as though she was in ‘My Fair Lady,’ about to go to see some horse race. Not slaughter a naked prostitute on her pretty manor floor.

But as she practically floated down the stairs it was close to angelic, the lady was in no rush. Your eyes couldn’t stop finding her clevage. As nothing you’d ever seen came close. Her breasts were alluring, commanding your mind eve.

You swallowed the excess saliva in your mouth, not wanting to allow your mind to go there.

When the devilish woman came to the bottom of the stairs you fought that her height was positively intimidating.

“Now of all my years, I’m quiet sure no one has ever given such a wish.” She tells you and you are convinced now with that cream dress about to burst from her boobs.

That this is not Mother Miranda.

“If it’s my end, I feel that I might be granted it?” You couldn’t help but change your own vocabulary in front of this woman.

Who’s dark lips curled in delight, seeming to notice how you straightened your spine and changed your speech patterns.

The tall Lady of the manor let out a long breath through her nose as she decided if this was interesting or if you were wasting her time.

“Monstrous?” She repeated, and you thought of all the legends, of the lore, of the fairytale turned to monsters who savaged young ladies.

“If this is how I die, I want to go out in an intresting way, not like the other girls who work in the village. From cold, from illness, from boredom, if you’re going to murder me - I want it to be intresting.” You shrug one shoulder, your breast bounces in the action and the giant ladys eyeline follows the movement and then resumes studying your face.

You don’t know why but you feel as though that is a clue that you don’t understand.

“You stand in my home dripping wet and nude, and you want to go out with a…bang?” The ninefoot woman towering over you is really making sure you know what you are requesting, there’s a glint in her eyes that seems to not allow herself to enjoy whatever you are instructing.

“Exactly.” You nod once, as her dark eyes size you up, all the way down to your toes then back up to the top of your wet hair.

“You are unquestionably not from around here,” The brim of her hat casts back as the woman seems to settle in her spot.

“So you’ll allow me this last-”

“I’ve allowed you a rosary, what makes you think I would deny you such a last rite? You think me monstrous in every way then?”

You panic, and not from fear of violence but of offending such a gorgeous creature that cannot be found anywhere but the walls of this castle.

“NO!” You shout too rudely causing her to arch an eyebrow comically high. But you shake your head and try to smooth it over. “I don’t find you monstrous, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever- I don’t mean to offend. You are clearly stunning!” You compliment rushed, but positive that you mean every word.

Now the lady risks as though lies will get you nowhere.

“I mean it, I mean you must own a mirror?” It’s flirtatious but your zoned in face clearly makes it so the Lady of the manor knows you aren’t simply kissing ass to safe your hide.

You knew your hide was about to be skinned, and yet you still were complimenting her.

The dark eyes that hold you are all consuming, as she takes the brim of her large hat and places it on the corner of the armchair to your left. Her long arms making it effortless even though it’s clearly far from your body.

Speaking of shadows, hers could eclipse the very thought of you in this space.

“Child of Mother Miranda, do you know who’s home you are groveling in?”

The large womans dark curls are so classic, she’s gorgeous in that timeless way.

“No, my lady.” You say back,, ignoring the idea that you were groveling. With your bottom lip still, your spine straight, and your eyes meeting the intimidating being in front of you.

You were clearly not groveling.

“This is my castle you stand in, I am one of Mother Miranda’s most favorite, part of her family, her council. You may have heard of me, they call me Lady Dimitrescu.”

Your eyes must have doubled in size, because yes - you’d heard of her. But no one had ever called her beautiful. The mention of blood drinking, long talons that slice muscle to shreds, and that bottle the virgins essence.

Those stories were coming in quickly.

The bug daughters were the least of your worries. You were in the den of the biggest predator.

“Lady Demit-escrew?” You stumble on the name, which is silly, but something about being in front of her made you stutter and lose your poise.

The biggest lips you ever saw curled in enjoyment.

“You can call me Alcina.”

Now you were practically making heart eyes at this murderous siren.

“Alcina.” You say back, but the adoring way you did it made the large vampire seem untrusting.

“Why do you say it like a lover?” She scowls as though you are lying.

“Sorry, I mean Alcina you’re just…wow.”

You were thrown off guard as Alcina’s laugh was more carefree now, more of a flitter as she covered her mouth like a young blushing bride.

“You are a strange little human.” Lady D practically giggles at you.

You look down at your barefeet, your kees shaking slightly for a very different reason now.

“I hope that’s a good change of pace?” You try again, though now with the intention of getting her to laugh again, to get her to keep smiling like that.

Alcina’s chin moves up, but her smile doesn’t drop.

“You stand in front of me, bare and violated. Shivering in the castle that has more babes' blood than a cemetery, resound to your fate of death…and you wish to hold me in such banter like we are in a garden getting acquainted?” Lady D’s explanation of you hitting on her only made you grin harder.

“I see no better time to enjoy beauty than on the steps of my demise.” You really don’t know where this bravado was coming from. But if anyone was gonna kill you, you hoped she’d do it. Preferably from the weight of her boobies on your face.

You blush, heat rising to your ears, but you stand uncompromised.

Alcina dropped her niceties and studied the places on your body that scarring had healed over. Proof of your job, but also your cruel last five years, the intensity of sex, money, dead family, and overall violent acts.

“You have lived a life of hardship.” Lady Dimitrescu summarized, though it wasn’t pity or even empathy. Rather a sort of fleeting thought on your character, she didn’t seem to look down on you for it.

You’d have thought less of her if she had.

“Times are cruel, I like to think I survived.” You pinch your shoulders back even further, pride earned.

Lady D’s gaze turned to the fire burning in the fireplace, then to the window that had heavy curtains hiding the light, though it peaked out of the crack between the velvet.

As though she was making her decision and just checking the clocks.

Then her dark red lips moved faster than you were ready to follow.

“I’ll tell you what little fighter. I’m going to give you a chance I have only ever given one other soul. But I find you rather intriguing, and I do not enjoy squashing such a fascinating bug. You run, and run fast, and we’ll see if you can last. How does that sound?”

You are confused and your face displays that, you chew on your lip but ask;

“Like hide and seek?”

“Not exactly, but I will follow that idea - I’ll allow you a head start. First round I’ll even keep it…less monstrous. How does that sound?”

You feel like it’s a trick question, but it’s rhetorical and Alcina’s gaze moves up and just at that second the longcase antique grandfather clock upstairs chimes. Telling you the time, and working as your pistol at the start of the race.

You eye Alcina one more moment, not sure why you would run from such a sensual woman.

But she see’s your hesitation and helps by letting fear coat the game, her hand goes from closed to open, then the lore of her claws becomes your reality.

Her five foot long claws gleam in the light and you almost fall on your ass from the sight.

But your feet squeak and you slip on a bit of water before running as fast as you could past the vases towards the front door. You grab the heavy doorknob and it doesn’t budge.

“Now that’s cheating!” The siren’s voice is no longer just seductive, but now it’s the melodoious tone of the thing hunting you.

Your running back to the main foye then turning to go down steps. You hear Alcina’s heels click heavily on the floor and you turn around to find three doors.

You panic opening the middle door and quickly becoming lost, but you bind up the steps, unsure of what level of the house you started on, or how many up or below there were.

But the blood pumps in your ears, your addrenaline not aiding you as much as your barfeet do.

You hate that you make thudding noises at how fear makes you drive your legs harder. Not as quiet as a mouse, but closer to the barreling of an elephants footfall.

You open doors you don’t know what will be the other side, wondering if the daughters woud be behind one, you find a kitchen, unsure when you’d bound down stairs to get to this level.

There’s no staff, and you can see light from a window with no opening; they must have left for the night.

Not that you would get aid from them hiding you.

Besides, Alcina had said you were cheating once, you feared what would happen if you did it twice.

You see bottles of wine corked with labels, as you lean forward to read a name.

You see a reflection in the top of the dark red - a silhouette that towers over you.

You twist around just in time to hear her laugh.

She slashes across your chest - not deep enough to kill you, but enough to puncture your skin and let long wounds blossom red.

It appeared like a beast would claw at it’s meal.

Five long ribbons of your skin now open, Alcina beamed at the sight - like she’d marked you as hers.

But instead of ending the game here and having her meal.

Lady Dimitrescu claws shook as she inhaled the smell of you.

Closing her eyes in delight, you couldn’t be sure if it was her way of playing with her food. Or if it made tracking you easier, you never imagined that it was a possessive display.

You backed up, the wine blood bottle getting bumped off the table, falling neck side down and shattering, causing Alcina to growl irritated.

The sound making you wet, yeah clearly you were going to need to think about why that was later.

But as you tried to stalk backwards away from the razor blades that had just sliced you.

You stepped your heel right into the broken glass, you quickly tried to take the weight off.

But neither the pain from the incisions that Alcina had produced or the foot pain reached your mind yet.

Adrenaline pumping through your body the only sensation you could taste at this point.

Alcina’s non-clawed hand reaches out to stop you from stepping back, but you don’t notice as you reach down to rip the bit of the bottle out of your foot.

Causing blood from your bleeding breasts to drip down onto the bloody wine.

Alcina hisses with desire too strong to allow her the luxury of foreplay, as she reaches out again, but you stagger backwards, losing your balance.

You see a small light and the option of a crawl space down to what you feared might be a cellar.

You push the table in Alcina’s direction and then sprint towards the steps up. Choosing door number one where the light came through.

Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t easily evaded, as her claws had reached out.

Sliding across your right ass cheek just enough to scratch but not enough to cause the amount of bleeding coming off your chest down your stomach.

You were losing blood quickly, but your heart was racing, and you felt as though this was the game of your life.

You feel something sharp and realize your body must be screaming, but you can’t identify which part of your wounds are catching up to you.

You wrench open a door and hear Alcina from below bellow up.

“ROUND ONE IS DONE! NEXT TIME I WILL NOT BE SO LENIENT!” Her voice is blood-curdling and you hate that you smile at the threat. Feeling more alive then ever before.

You go up two levels, then around a staircase, running by old oil paintings, priceless antiques, vases and tapestries.

The castle didn’t seem to have an end, every door had two more options, every staircase led to another level you had not seen yet.

Until you come to a room, with the largest bed you have ever seen, it’s dark wallpaper, broodingly large furniture, it smells of fancy perfumes from faraway lands. You walked further into the bedroom, hoping stupidly that it was Alcina’s.

Two large hooks hang from the ceiling, blood and dead tissue dangled from one of the rusty chains.

You tried to ignore that fact, as you walked around the room, eyes straining to make out every painting, as it was lit only by a dying fire.

You stopped, your palm carefully placing over the bloody streaks across your chest, and you flinch in pain of your own touch. You stare down at your hands now covered in bright red blood.

The sound of wood creaking from a giant force has you spinning around the room to hide. Eyeing the bed, you fall to the ground and scoot under the bedframe.

Your foot almost stops under the bedframe, you twist it to the side and hide underneath the mattress, holding your bloody hand over your face.

Alcina bursts through the door, she’s breathing heavy and sounds strained. As though this was the best part of her year. This was her marathon, but as her hand grasped the white, pristine door, she calmed instantly.

“You run and hide better than any silly village girl, that’s for sure.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she works to catch her breath.

You smell the metallic engulfing your senses as pain starts to catch up with you.

The red proof of Alcina’s blow stars to pool under your body out towards the edge of the bedframe.

You are afraid of the bit of lightheadedness that is attempting to cloud you.

You can see her heels, and the edge of her dress, but the noise is what clearly demonstrates your fate.

A sound of the door shutting and the click of a key in a lock.

You have picked poorly.

“For a whore you taste far more delicious than any virgin I’ve had,” Alcina tells you wetly, a sort of slurping noise, making it clear that she’s licking her own claws clean.

You hold your hand over your mouth to try and stop the sound of your breath. If only you could get your heart to stop being so loud in your chest.

Alcina’s heels moved towards the bed, but instead of throwing the mattress across the room and stringing you up onto the meat hooks.

She twisted towards the door and sat down.

You held your breath as the weight of her as to the right of your shoulder.

She wasn’t pinning you, just near you, as the noise of her jewelry being taken off rattled you.

Each noise was as loud as alarm bells.

“It’s been so long since I found any morsel so intellectually stimulating. Besides dear Mother Miranda, I have been so very directionless.” Alcina set her necklace and earrings down on the side table with a clinking noise.

“You will, of course, forgive a lady of my caliber for not having better table manners, but alas. I’ve given more foreplay than I can stand.” Her voice curled like poison in a vile at the end as she had found the foot of the bed, grabbing your wounded foot in her grasp.

You don’t mean to scream, but you’re sure she’s crunched the bone as she yanks you like a horror movie out from under the bed.

Holding you up like a fish, you’re upside down as she’s got your leg in a tight grip.

You aren’t crying, but the blood that sliced your breasts, opening your left nipple, now drips towards your face.

Alcina studies the red handprint across your mouth, as you had tried so desperately not to give away your position under the bed.

“You know I almost wish to tell my maids not to clean up your adorable little footprints.” Alcina holds you higher and twists you so that you spin to see the footprints of your bloody heel all around the room.

You didn’t have a chance; you marked every single step you’d taken.

You close your eyes in defeat, sure you would die quick.

“Next time I’ll make sure to show you my true form.” Alcina giggles manicly and your eyes shoot open in confusion.

But Alcina tosses your body on the bed, and you wince in pain as she quickly unzips the back of her dress, stepping out of it with her corset and silky slip.

Your legs start to scramble back, figuring that your monster simply didn’t want to get her dress ruined.

But Alcina makes an annoyed noise and then grabs both of your ankles to stop you from moving. Her left hand is holding something tight in her palm that you don’t notice.

“Easy, my morsel, I won, now you’ll allow me my pound of flesh.” Her canines seem bigger now, though Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t continue undressing but you can see far more of her cleavage now and you’re sure that’s where you want to put your face forever.

“Al-lcina-” You shiver as you watch her climb onto the giant bed, it creaks nder her weight. But you don’t have time to wonder where she’ll drink from first.

Because her eyes burrow into your own, then her jaw drops, and instead of those pretty canines. You witness her dark purple tongue, that of an animal, or something sickly.

Then it rolls out, longer and longer, less like a tongue and more like….a slick tentacle.

Your thigh muscle strain, as your fight of flight isn’t sure what to make of this.

But Alcina’s true monster form must have…wet tentacles? Because the pointed tip wetly slides from your calf to the underside of your knee. Tasting your hamstring like it was…well ham.

“A-Alcina?” You question, not sure if you're more scared or aroused at being pinned and seeing clear down her corset.

A bit of the slug-like piece of Alcina slithers towards your cunt, blood coating it.

The tentacle moves back into the vampire's jaws, as she slowly releases one of her limbs. She swallows the blood as Lady Dimitrescu displays great self-restraint to not rip your throat out as she gets another mouthful of your blood.

Her left hand opening, stringing the rosary in front of your face. The end of it tickles your bloody stomach. As you sharply inhale, more blood rolls down your ribcage and onto the silk sheets of Lady Dimitrescu's bed.

“You dropped something,” Alcina smirks and she lets the small beads dance in and out of your bellybutton. It tickles, if you could focus on just that. Not the amazing amount of blood loss.

It feels so dirty to use the beads in such a sinful way…if you could believe in such a thing.

You fidget just a smidge. Your ass cheek against the soft bed burned almost as much as the gaping wound across your chest.

You made sure your voice was strong;

“Ooops,” you tease back. Remembering your desire to die by a monstrous proportion.

Alcina grins but pushes the rosary beads towards your lips.

“Hold it for me, and pray. I want to hear you pray.” Alcina instructs and you hesitate before letting your bottom lip slowly pull down.

Lady Dimitrescu likes that and makes an approving noise as your teeth capture the dark beads that once hung by your mothers bedside.

“Pray.” She repeats and you find the memories of the words;

“Great ones,-” You start, and the vampire opens her jaw once more and the long tentacle makes wet noises as it sludges out of her mouth, longer than before. Lady Dimitrescu in her corset, lets her monster form only in her mouth. It caresses the space next to your lips, then it leaves a wet trail falling down your chin. Down your bloody neck, smearing the blood down your open wounds, as you make sure not to mumble.

“H-hear our voice, together as one in reverence. We call on thee within the endless dark to deliver us into f-” You stop as Lady Dimitrescu’s slimy friend has moved to your cunt.

You gasp and almost drop the rosary beads in your moan at the wet tentacle pushing into your cunt. The tip is already stretching you bigger than any stupid man in an alley.

Lady D is going to make you cum, she’s going to make you fucking cum.

But her hands grab at your thighs too hard, reminding you to keep going - keep praying. So you try to focus, as the agony mixed with arousal.

“into f-into fate's hands. As the midnight moon rises on black wings, so we make our sacrifice and await the light at the end. In life and in death, glory to Mother Miranda". You say the prayer like a good little girl. As Lady Dimitrescu fucks you deeper than any whore in the village would ever be stretched.

Her slime drips down your labia and mixes with your own cum.

You shiver and your toes curl as you feel Alcina reach her destination, your womb, but she doesn’t stop trying to stuff her tentacle tongue into you.

Wanting to make sure not a bit of her long sex limb would fill you up, make your stomach bulge.

Like a god damn rope she keeps filling your insides. You can’t hold it all, but the wet squelching noises keep filling the room. As more of her fills you.

You understand now, so much deeper than you ever have before, you practically see Mother Miranda when you close your eyes. So you start again, just as Alcina wants you to.

“Great ones,-” You start the prayer again as Alcina is beginning to lose her mind with a sort of feeding frenzy desire.

Your teeth clench on the rosary beads as the end of it rests against your cuts.

The vampire grabs at your ripped chest, her manicured fingers digging into your wounds like you’ve always belonged to her.

For the rest of your days, Lady D would fulfill her promise. She would make it monstrous.

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