No

The radiance of the Rose slips though your mental fingers like water, and you realize in horror that your plan has failed.

Before you can even consider reacting, Russ’s arms whip up. Too late, you realize that those arms have become flexible tentacles like those of the first monster, the fingers elongating into thinner tendrils. The two arm-tentacles whip around you, thinner finger-tendrils twinning together like a net to hold you against the monster that Russ has become. His mouth snaps open and a tentacle erupts from his throat, lashing forward to **** itself into your mouth. His chest bulges beneath the shirt and two further tentacles push out, tearing his shirt to shreds. This end in broad discs like an octopus’s suckers, which latch onto your nipples and begin to pulse and suck.

You thrash, trying to tear free or fight back, but to no avail. The web of tendrils across your back is impossibly tough and strong, far stronger than you are without your goddess’s blessing. You grab for the tendrils attached to your breasts and try to pull them free, but the slime on them is so slippery you cannot get a good grip.

Your horror is drowned in a growing arousal, an unnatural heat radiating out from wherever those slimy tentacles touch you. You can feel the tendrils in your mouth and pussy elongating, the one forcing itself down your throat, the other insinuating its way into your womb. A third tendril presses against and through your sphincter even as the first two tendrils began to shift back and forth, fucking your throat and pussy as no mortal cock could ever do.

You’re not sure at what point you stopped fighting, but your thrashing is now in sync with the rhythm of the three tendrils defiling your three holes, and with the rhythm of the suckers pulsing and squeezing your erect nipples.

Suddenly, all three main tentacles swell and began to pulse, shooting profane seed into your belly and womb and bowls. You moan around the tentacle that is impossibly dilating your throat, trying to **** the three appendages deeper into your body.

And then all three appendages cease their cumming, and retract, pulling out of your body in one swift rush. You crumple to the ground, alien slime oozing from your pussy and ass, as the tentacles protruding from the Russ-drone retract to a few feet.

“No!!” you moan, grabbing for those tentacles. “No, I need more, please, fuck me, breed me, fill me, more…” You trail off as you feel the first stirrings of the parasite growing so rapidly within your own body. You fall to the ground in ecstasy as your flesh twists and reshapes itself. You feel your vulva warp, a dozen smaller tendrils extruding around the dripping hole of your corrupted sex. Your breasts burst like overfull waterskins, exploding into clusters of tentacles. And then you feel the tendrils insinuate themselves into your brain, feel the growing connection to the drone that seeded you, to the others within the mines, and most of all to the queen buried so deep below.

You rise to your feet. Time to hunt.