The Corruptor stared at his new servant, full of lust and egged on by the prospect of having demolished with a single act all of human morality - if only in principle. But no matter; his plans involved this kind of behavior spread to all of humanity. And they would be enacted soon. Very soon.
The Corruptor grinned, his mouth full of sharp, unordered, jagged teeth, and his erection bared itself again. The werewolf howled with expectation and bared her furred, black, dripping vagina. Before they could copulate, however, a pounding and shouting erupted behind them.
"Bobbi?!" It was their mother, come in from the pool. "Bobbi, what are those noises?? Are you all right?!?"
"Bobbi, what's going on?!" Now it was their older step-sister who spoke. Apparently both women were right on the other side of the door. The Corruptor's grin slipped; the mood had been broken! The eyes of the werewolf narrowed in rage. Slowly, the Corruptor turned to face the door.
The two women were caught in mid-yell as the large wood-paneled door hurtled from its hinges and into them, smashing them against the far wall and breaking most of their bones. Kept conscious by the Corruptor's magic, they moaned, all thoughts gone except for the pain. When the wood atop them began to move, however, their thoughts began to clear - and then to shriek.
A black, armored claw slid around the edge of the largest piece of wood and pulled it away, giving them a view of the hallway. Some sort of monstrous demon-thing stood atop them, grinning, an enormous erection dribbling some foul, stinging liquid onto their collarbones. If either of them had the lung capacity, they would have made the area echo with their screams, but the most they could do was open their mouths in a simultaneous rictus of pure horror. Then the beast moved aside, and a werewolf with enormous breasts lept on them and went for the throat.
In seconds, the two women were dead. The Corruptor stopped his werewolf immediately; he wanted the bodies as intact as he could, and though broken bones were no problem, severed flesh was. Once his pet subsided, giving up tearing meat for staring hungrily, the Corruptor once more stood astride his victims and finished clearing the wood from them. Then slowly, delicately almost, he knelt and removed his mother's clothing.
The werewolf looked on in puzzlement as the Corruptor mounted the corpse of his mother. The dead vagina was unresponsive, but he forced his foul member in, thrusting. It was far less enjoyable than corrupting his younger step-sister, or the chapel girls, but the Corruptor knew what he was doing. He knew the best was yet to come.
In and out, in and out, the Corruptor thrust his incestuous penis within his mother's still-warm body. Despite the one-sidedness of the sex, it was pleasing, and gradually the Corruptor approached his climax. Finally, focusing his mind, he peaked, and his cum exploded from it's chamber with force unequaled in all his previous conquests.
His mother's eyes flew open, shining with unholy, dead light. Slowly her body began to move, to pulse with the act of sex, and it matched the Corruptor stride for stride as they went through a second cycle. This time it was far, far more enjoyable; perfect, really. And throughout the whole thing, his mother's face never changed from the rictus of horror that it had been when she had died.
When he had finished, the Corruptor withdrew from his first zombie and moved on to his older step-sister. As he repeated the animation process, the zombie got to its feet and stood by the wall where it had fallen, looking at nothing, locked in a silent scream. The werewolf sniffed at it curiously; it smelled like nothing she had ever . . . it smelled like nothing. There was no scent. Bemused, the wolf took a nip of its arm - and two things happened at once. One, the wolf withdrew its jaws instantly, a more foul taste than it could endure lingering on its tongue. Two, the unhindered arm of the zombie shot out and pinned the werewolf against the wall like a steel pylon, only the solidity of the werewolf's thorax muscles saving its life.
The wolf looked at the zombie in startled fear, but the thing wasn't even looking where it had planted its arm. It still wasn't staring at anything, but it had obviously known what happened, and acted to protect itself. The werewolf was furious at this injury to its pride and itched to retaliate, but found that no matter what it did it could not free itself from the zombie's grasp. The young wolf looked to its creator for help, but the Corruptor was in the process of animating the wolf's dead older stepsister and did not look away. So the wolf decided there was nothing to do, and hung quietly in the zombie's grip as grunts and heaving sounded yards away.
A thought suddenly occurred the werewolf. Was the Corruptor just reanimating the bodies of their family members, or was he bringing back the actual souls and trapping them in these putrescent flesh cages? The werewolf hoped the latter; it would be so much sweeter if the zombie next to it imprisoned the werewolf's mother behind it's glowing, unholy eyes. The hope was so strong that the werewolf found it impossible not to act; the Corruptor hadn't even climaxed yet, and might not answer the question if the wolf asked. So, the wolf asked the zombie.
The furry muzzle parted, and the werewolf tried to make its voice sound pleading and scared.
"Mom?"