A Secret Weapon

The subsequent moments were a blur to you. Edging, it seemed, was Morgana’s preferred course of **** for you. She writhed and gyrated, controlling her semi-liquid body with masterful precision. Over and over again she squeezed you, screaming in ecstasy while encouraging you. In just a short time, the room was already humid and filled with the smells and sounds of sex.

“Breed me, Asmodeus! Agree, and I’ll make all the **** end! Just imagine the release you’ll have! Fill your goddess’ cunt with seed!” Morgana’s face had grown feral with lust. The clones had shifted focus from their own pleasure to your personal ****.

While true Morgana rode you to the precipice of orgasm, two clones were busy sucking your balls. Each had taken one fully in their mouths, sucking, tugging, and lapping them. It was something that walked the line of pain and pleasure.

The two restraining your arms had shifted into a position that allowed them to suck on your nipples. They pinched, licked, and tugged, causing you to groan. Your voice would have been much louder, were you not also being muffled by the clone that had masturbated over your face earlier. The clone had decided to focus on an intense and dominating kiss. Your long devil’s tongue had made messes of all your wives, and now it was being utterly defeated by Morgana’s. At first, she had just used her long tongue to coil around yours, but now that same tongue had begun to dig further into your throat as if trying to fuck it. It was an odd feeling, but not necessarily a bad one. More than the physical sensation, it was the act of domination that aroused you the most.

“Still holding out, darling?” Morgana taunted. “I suppose we’ll have to take drastic measures.”

The clone kissing you removed herself from your face, and propped you up for the view. Neither the two sucking your chest nor the ones lapping your balls relented. Your body was burning with the need to release, but Morgana used your physical tells and your mental link to stop at just the right moment.

Morgana raised a tendril of slime into your view.

“Take a look, darling.” She said in a sultry tone.

Morgana’s tendril started as a sleek, undulating extension of her gelatinous body. It moved with fluidity, stretching and curling with effortless grace. But as it shifted, a slow ripple passed through its length, as if something beneath the surface was awakening.

Beneath the smooth exterior, subtle bulges began to form—small at first, barely noticeable, then growing into distinct, rounded protrusions. The tendril flexed, the bumps shifting and solidifying into uneven ridges that gave it a more textured, almost organic appearance. Each ridge glistened with the same semi-transparent sheen, pulsing ever so slightly with an inner luminescence, like something alive within the amorphous mass.

Then, at the very tip, the transformation took a more unsettling turn. The gelatinous surface split open, revealing a circular, lamprey-like maw lined with tiny, writhing tendrils. The edges of the mouth quivered as the ring of soft, pliable “teeth” formed, twitching as if tasting the air. A thin line of viscous fluid stretched between the parting folds of the orifice, a sign of its unnatural elasticity.

“W-what are you going to do with that?” You asked nervously, watching as a viscous drool of slime poured from the mouth of the tendril as it pulsed.

“This is my own special creation, pet. This little one is going to go into your cute ass. Once inside, it’s going to seek out its favorite thing to suck and chew on.” She said in a sickeningly sweet and motherly tone. You could feel her pulse and tighten around your cock in excitement.

“W-what?” You asked, already fearful that you knew.

“It’s going to find your cute prostate, clamp on your flesh and stimulate you from the inside.”

She brought the tendril mere inches from your face, slick and glistening, its semi-transparent surface revealing subtle currents of movement within. The gelatinous surface peeled open like a blooming flower, giving you a better view of the circular, lamprey-like mouth. The inner flesh was a darker shade, slick and glistening with fresh secretion, pulsing faintly as if breathing. Tiny, flexible teeth—not sharp, but soft and gripping—emerged in a ring. The whole of the insides flexed, secreting more slime, and forcing you to face the reality of what you were about to endure.

“Morgana, can we talk–mmff!” Before you could try an speak, the clone that had been throat fucking you with her tongue latched back onto your face, stifling your protests.

“No more talking. Only begging.” Morgana said with a sadistic euphoria in her voice.

You tried to resist. Not wanting to be bullied into having a child, you focused your powers into stimulating Morgana and hoping to weaken the grip she held on you. You watched as her clone bodies rippled in response to your aphrodisiac magic permeating the room. Though you were exerting yourself, the clones and true Morgana did not relent. You strengthened yourself to your limits, flexing your muscles, and trying to overwhelm the slime as she held you.

“That’s no good, darling. Resisting your goddess is an act of heresy. You aren’t fully awakened yet, so you have no chance at overwhelming me.”

The clones changed tactics, now focused solely on pinning you into place. You were surprised by Morgana’s strength. Though you had thought gaining more power had leveled the playing field between you two, it appeared that she had been holding back. The clone that was kissing you, retracted her tongue out of your mouth. Now, that same tongue elongated further, wrapping itself several times around your neck. It squoze down, limiting your airway, not hurting you, but still bordering on discomfort.

“They say that males tend to revert to a base instinct to pass on genetic material when they sense danger. I’ve watched you use **** to build pleasure in others, so I’m going to do the same with you.” She mocked. “Now, let's work on completely breaking your will.”

Then you felt the appendage reach down to your ass.

The tendril hovered just above your skin, slick and warm, pulsing with a faint, almost eager tremor. Even with all the stimulation you felt, its presence was clearly noticeable. It put you on alert in both fear and excitement. Its texture was soft yet firm, an extension of the Morgana’s own body—an intimate, living part of her. She watched you with a mixture of sadism and obsessive lust, her fluid form shifting subtly as she adjusted, reading every breath, every twitch of anticipation in your muscles.

“My sweet puppy wants it, I think.” She hissed, taunting you by pressing the inevitable invader against your hole, causing you to grunt.

As the tendril moved, it glided over your skin with an otherworldly smoothness, leaving a thin, glistening trail in its wake. There was no chance at resistance—only warmth, only the slow, deliberate press as it began to explore you with careful intent. You inhaled sharply, a shudder rolling through your spine as a pulse of sensation bloomed deep inside you, unexpected and overwhelming. The bumps formed along the surface of the tendril scraped your insides as the mouth of the appendage sought out your prostate.

Morgana sensed it—the way your body clenched, the way your breath caught in your throat. Encouraged, the tendril moved again, undulating with a gentle, searching rhythm, pressing against a spot that sent a sudden jolt of pleasure through you. Your fingers curled against her soft, yielding body, gripping instinctively as a low, shaky moan escaped your lips.

“I think it found the target.” Morgana giggled, enjoying your submissive sounds.

The pleasure was different from anything you’d known before—deeper, more consuming, like a slow-burning heat that spread outward, making every nerve hum with intensity. The tendril adjusted, its surface shifting slightly, textured bumps massaging you from within, coaxing another involuntary gasp from your lips. Your head tilted back, your body betraying you as waves of sensation crashed over you, each one stronger than the last.

Morgana watched you with fascination, her form shimmering with quiet delight as she felt your pleasure resonate through her. It was an unspoken exchange—your trust, your surrender to the unfamiliar, and her careful, eager exploration of your deepest desires. She leaned closer, her fluid body wrapping around you in a cool, enveloping embrace, her voice a soft whisper against your ear.

“Let go,” she murmured, the mouth of the appendage latching on and stimulating you further. “I will block your ability to cum until you agree to giving me a baby. No one is going to come and save you, Asmodeus. I have you for hours. I will subject you to this pleasure all day. I will not stop. The only thing you can do to make it stop is breed me.”