MycoXverse

I was done. Done with the lies, the silence, the system that protected powerful men in suits while erasing women like me. There seemed to be no escape. Then something found me in the dark. Lucien isn’t human, though he wears the shape beautifully. He’s older. Hungrier. And he sees what they did to me. What they’re still doing. He offers a choice I never thought possible: something more than survival.

I thought I was the one exploring the darkness. A little psilocybin. A safe retreat. A harmless dive into my own mind for inspiration. But the mycelium saw deeper than I ever meant it to. It slipped into my thoughts, peeling back everything I tried to hide — every secret ache, every forbidden craving. It fed on my fear and my need. And then he came. A creation? A hallucination? Or something far worse? He binds me. Teases me. Torments me. Pushes me deeper into submission with every wicked touch.

Some desires are better left unfulfilled. I've always been ashamed of my darkest fantasies—especially those involving Elias, the mysterious man from my mycology club with piercing blue eyes. When he invites me to view his private collection, something inside warns me to refuse. But curiosity and forbidden attraction override caution. What follows is a nightmarish descent as I find myself trapped in a cycle of violation and pleasure I can neither fully remember nor escape.

Isaac said I’d been chosen, and I believed him. The Divine revealed itself not in sermons or scripture, but in breath, in bloom, in touch. On the pileus, I shed my shame like a second skin. I was taken. Filled. Worshiped as I worshiped. Every pulse, every binding, every release became a prayer. A knowing. A joining. This is no temple of stone. It is something older. Something alive. Something spreading. He doesn’t speak in words. He doesn’t need to. I feel His will in the tendrils curling through me, in the spores that catch the light when I moan. I belong here. I know that now.