Continue pleasuring Rachel until her soul is completely consumed

Prompt: Continue pleasuring Rachel until her soul is completely consumed

Turn 5:

Your tongue works against her with practiced precision, and Rachel's body responds with an intensity that surprises even you. Her thighs clamp around your head, trembling violently. The sounds she makes are animal—guttural and ****, stripped of any human pretense or shame.

"Oh god, oh god, oh GOD—" The words dissolve into a keening wail.

You feel it happening. Her soul, that luminous core of self, begins to fragment under the **** of pleasure too intense for mortal flesh to process. Each wave of ecstasy tears away another piece. She comes once, twice, her body convulsing, but you don't stop. Can't stop. Not until you have it all.

"What's—what's happening to me?" Rachel gasps between ragged breaths. Her hands are in your hair now, pulling, pushing, unable to decide whether to draw you closer or push you away. "I feel... empty. Like something's being pulled out—"

"Shhhh," you murmur against her flesh. "Just let go."

And she does. Her third orgasm tears through her like lightning through a tree, and you feel her soul come loose entirely. You draw it into yourself, savoring the taste—young, inexperienced, flavored with years of repressed desire and secret longings she'd never dared to name. It's delicious.

Rachel slumps against the bathroom counter, her eyes glazed and distant. The steam from the still-running shower has made her skin slick with moisture. She's panting, her chest heaving, but something fundamental has changed in her expression. The fear is gone. The uncertainty is gone. There's only a kind of hollow hunger in her eyes now.

"That was..." she trails off, searching for words that don't exist. Her hand reaches down to touch herself, as if testing whether her body still belongs to her. "I want more. I need more. What did you do to me?"

You rise to your feet, looking down at her. She's yours now, in a way more complete than any human bond. Soulless. Capable of any depravity, any excess, without the burden of conscience or consequence.

"I set you free," you tell her. "Free from guilt. From shame. From all those tedious human restrictions."

Rachel's eyes focus on you with new clarity. "I don't... I don't feel bad about this. I should feel bad, shouldn't I? But I don't. I just want..." Her hand slides up your thigh, bold now where before she'd been hesitant. "I want to feel like that again. Forever."

"You will," you promise. "But first, you need to drink from me. My blood, my essence. It will transform you into something more than human. Something like me."

She doesn't hesitate. Doesn't question. "Yes," she breathes. "Whatever you want. Just... don't stop touching me."