She can take it.

With everything below her waist well and truly lubricated, you push for your endgame. With virtually no resistance, you pop your hotdogging tentacle into her rosebud while rapidly drawing tiny circles on her nipples and clitoris. The effect is instantaneous and tremendously entertaining: Song tries to squeal and arch into your frontal ministrations while screaming and escaping your anal invasion. You know for a fact that she felt no pain from the abrupt entrance, she was so oiled up you probably could have fit several times the size of your tentacle inside with no problems. On top of that, she'd started orgasming as soon as you attacked her clit, shaking and spasming delightfully in your grasp.

"MMM-Oah...Oh...OH! OOH!" It wasn't hard to keep her going, you tirelessly swirl across her pleasure-bead while steadily thrusting deeper into her bowels. Your attention shifts to her perfectly erect nipples and the lovely hills they stand upon. You gently massage her breasts, purposefully contrasting the sensation from your **** on her lower half. You enjoy her bucking against your restraints for a minute or two, her expression shifting between mindless pleasure and shock at her endless orgasm. Then you begin sucking on her nipples and her amazement is lost in a new blast of pleasure.

You swirl a bumpy tongue-like tentacle across her nipples while you envelope her modest breasts, gradually raising the pressure till you taste beads of faux-milk beginning to leak from her mounds. Hm... sweet but salty. You rather liked the taste. Abruptly shifting gears, you reverse the suction on her nipples, instead pumping tiny amounts of pleasure-inducing slime back into her breasts. Song had never had children and it takes a lot of effort to fill her with even a small amount of slime but you rather enjoy her slightly increased bust size. You know she will, considering all the endorphins you'd pumped in there.

"Mh.... Mmm... Mm! Ah! Ohh..." Song had been completely insensate for the last few minutes while you were playing with her breasts. Quivering, gasping, and squeaking as you prolonged her orgasm beyond all reason. A nervous voice calls out over the intercom, "Um, Sir? Ma'am? We'll be there in five minutes." You grumble inwardly but realize that Song has probably had enough for now anyway. You slowly ease her down, withdrawing your various stimulations gradually. You disengage from her nipples, leaking a pale-green ooze, and slither out of her bra, shirt, and finally jacket. You withdraw your feathery tentacles with a loving caress from her panties, drawing a final weak thrust from her exhausted hips. You take your time removing yourself from her bowels, leaving a fair amount of pleasure-ooze behind for her to remember you by. Not trusting in her relaxed sphincter you cap her off with a plug made of your own body. You'll come back for it later, for now you just wanted her to enjoy the aftermath of your passion.

Settling Song back in her seat you adjust and dry her clothing to the best of your ability, she wasn't going anywhere for awhile but at least she looked presentable now just in case somebody came to check on her. The limo comes to a halt and after a moment you open the door, the ramp extending for you to ooze down onto the pavement. You move with exaggerated slowness to emphasize your "feeble" amorphous body but you needn't have bothered. A quiet square is all that greets you. The authorities set up a sizable perimeter to keep the crowds back and even you can only distantly hear them. Bored with the quiet and empty square you move at a uncharacteristically fast pace into the building. Time to get this over with...