It all starts rather unpleasantly

Marcus was kneeling naked by his the throne that had once been his Father's, the frozen form of his Mother by his side. He watched raptly as his new goddess daubed a large and complicated circle on the polished floor of the hall, the edges etched with rows of strange symbols that made his head spin just looking at them. She was using a thin paintbrush and a bowl of bright red ink she'd conjured from nowhere, the scarlet color lurid as blood against the stone.

"It is inconvenient, but any magical circle must be drawn by hand by the sorcerer themselves." She lectured him as she worked. "Of course I would prefer to have you handle the manual labor, apprentice, or just use my powers to guide the brush instead, but that would taint the ritual. We will cover these complex spells in greater detail once you are more familiar with your gift, but suffice to say anything at all going wrong during this process would have rather horrifying consequences for both of us." The young prince nodded, not at all afraid despite her words. He trusted her absolutely. She'd get this right no matter how dangerous it was. "Come, stand here at the center of the circle." She beckoned with her finger.

"Yes Mistress." Marcus leapt to his feet and scampered over, **** to please her. He stood where she gestured, right in the middle of all the strange symbols she'd drawn. It felt weird already, his bare skin tingling and his hair standing on end. Was this magic?

"We must have no distractions, so I'd best get rid of your father for now." Mistress clapped her hands sharply. The scaly, black thing still skulking behind the pillars rose up on all fours, clawed feet scraping on the stone. It started crawling away towards the door, dragging the helpless maid with it. Those three awful tentacles never once stopped pumping in and out of her holes, even as it lifted her up with the ones wrapped around her limbs and held her tight against its belly. Carrying her like that, it loped off through the door, her muffled screams dying away. Marcus felt a flicker of pity, before he remembered this was what his new goddess wanted and therefore absolutely right. He glanced eagerly back at Mistress, waiting for her to begin. "What I am going to do, apprentice, is send a tendril comprised of our combined essences through your body." She explained, holding up the goblet containing her juices and his pre-cum. "I will use that to find the place your own gift is hidden away and then unlock it. It will all feel rather invasive and unpleasant, but your comfort is not my concern. You will not be able to move or disrupt the ritual in any way."

Just like that, he felt his legs spread wide and his arms reach high above his head. It felt like there were invisible chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles. There was no slack in them at all, so he couldn't even move an inch. He wasn't worried though, not yet at least. She let the goblet go and it hovered in the air, moving between them. Marcus felt something shift, like a gust of cold, unpleasant wind whipping past his naked body. The throne room seemed to darken, the lit torches on the walls growing dimmer.

At the same time, Mistress raised her arms high. Her lips were moving, but he couldn't hear the words she spoke. Those gorgeous purple eyes of hers glowed even brighter, and the ink of the circle somehow seemed to shift and flicker around even as he stared at it. The goblet was shaking, the silver gleaming white. Then something slivered over the rim. Marcus felt a cold chill when he saw another tentacle slipping from what had been their combined juices. It was black and wiggly, rather thicker than the one she'd used to milk him, but he had no doubt it was going to end up exploring one of his orifices in the very near future.

Sure enough, the horrible thing kept growing from the cup, its probing head moving inexorably towards his face. His mouth was suddenly open wide, stretching his jaw as far as it could go. His tongue was out too, but even still he had no idea how that fat black thing was going to fit down his throat. Not that Mistress gave him any choice. The thick head pressed against his lips, forcing its way inside and opening them even wider until his jaw ached. It tasted salty against his tongue, the slime it was oozing dribbling down the sides of his chin.

The tentacle pressed forward, and soon he felt it hit the back of his throat. There was an awful heaving in his belly as he tried to **** gag, but his muscles just didn't respond. Every part of him was frozen in place, even his insides. The awful slimy thing just kept sliding through his mouth, and soon he could feel it swelling in his neck, pressing the skin tight from inside.

"Pay attention, apprentice." Mistress purred, her eyes alight with satisfaction as she watched the tentacle bulge its way down his throat. "The seat of energy in the body can often be found in the guts or belly, in close proximity to the sexual organs. I must thoroughly explore this area to find your own. It may take some time."

Marcus would have sobbed hoarsely if he could. The awful tentacle was in his belly now. He couldn't feel it properly, but his tummy was already really full and more and more of it just kept sliding down his throat. Out the corner of his eye, he could just about see his naked stomach starting to bulge outward as the horrible thing filled him up. This time there was no pleasure like when she'd shoved one in his butt. Only the awful **** feeling like he was about to gag or vomit, and the taut stretching of his skin and insides. He stared at Mistress with wide, anxious eyes, seeking comfort from her familiar presence. The only sign he could give of his distress was the salty tears dribbling down his cheeks, past the thick tentacle stretching his jaw until it felt like it would break. Of course she took no notice, just like she'd promised him. The thin smile on her ruby-red lips even suggested she was enjoying the show.

The young prince struggled not to hate her for that. He knew he shouldn't, but this was just so awful and the fact that she liked it clashed with his **** need to love and worship her. He **** himself to focus on her perfect face. She was so wise and beautiful, this all had to be for his own good, right? Then the tentacle seemed to swell even larger inside him, and all he could focus on was the awful stretching of his jaw and the vicious cramping of his bulging insides.