(Bad End) Tentacle Fucksleeves

The denizens of the manor avoided that room.

No one knew for sure what had happened in the witches chambers, though there were definitely rumors. All the palace knew was that one day the witch entered her room and never left, and shortly thereafter strange noises started to echo through the halls. It didn't matter what time of day it was, the various monsters and creatures of the castle could hear cries and moans coming from her chambers. Most of the time they were muffled but occasionally they wouldn't be, as indicated by the loud screams of pleasure that escaped the chamber.

After a few days one creature had enough, a strong she-orc, the castle's resident torturer. Armed with a heavy axe, she entered Serene's chambers when no one else had the courage to do so. It was foolish, however, as she was never seen again. The fighting they heard was brief and was quickly replaced by cries of anger and rage, but even soon those were replaced with moans of exhausted lust. After the orc's disappearance that wing of the castle was abandoned, the women forever trapped in the creature's grasp.

The women's new lives were a hell of lust and pleasure. Their violation was never ceasing, the monster seemingly never tiring, always pounding and filling their holes. It wasn't long in till they had become numb to the constant orgasms, their minds just filled with pleasure and bliss. Whenever Christina managed to have an ounce of focus she could see Serene and the orc hanging in their tentacle bindings, eyes rolled back and glassy, mouths slightly open, moaning and drooling. They were all mindless husks, unable to even really think in this state. If they could they would have realized how odd it was, that they didn't seem to need sustenance or nutrients. The tentacle creature was created for exactly this purpose, and the liquid the tentacles were filling their mouths with was enough to make sure they were alive enough to be used.

If they could think they would realize how happy their new life was, but even that simple of an emotion was too much for the fucksleeves. At least they found their true purpose, being such useful fucktoys.