Try to make a deal

You float in the pearlescent liquid, gathering what remains of your resolve. The tendrils have released your limbs, but a pleasant lethargy weighs down your arms and legs. Your cunt still pulses with the aftershocks of your orgasm, the emptiness inside you feeling strangely profound. You lick your lips, tasting the sweet residue of the bath mixed with the coppery tang of your own blood.

"Temple?" you call out, your voice echoing strangely in the steamy chamber. "Can we talk? I... I want to make a deal."

The melodic laughter surrounds you, seeming to vibrate through the liquid caressing your naked skin. "A deal?" The voice drips with amusement. "What could you possibly offer me, little vessel?"

You swallow hard, trying to ignore how your nipples harden at the sound of that voice. "I'll cooperate," you offer, forcing the words out. "If you promise to stop changing me. Just let me retrieve the artifact and leave. I won't resist anymore."

A ripple passes through the bath, making your sensitive breasts bob in the thick liquid. The voice sighs, a sound like wind through ancient trees. "Sweet child, you mistake your position here. You have nothing to bargain with. Every inch of your body belongs to me now."

Before you can protest, a fresh tendril rises from the pool. This one is thicker than the last, glistening with the pearlescent fluid. It hovers before your face, its tip pulsating gently. You try to turn your head away, but another tendril materializes behind you, cradling your skull firmly.

"Open," the voice commands, its tone brooking no argument.

Your jaw clenches instinctively. "No! We were negotiating—"

The tendril at the back of your head tightens its grip. Simultaneously, the one before you darts forward, pressing insistently against your lips. You keep your teeth clenched, but the tendril simply oozes thick, sweet fluid over them. The taste floods your mouth, making your head swim. Against your will, your lips part slightly to gasp—and the tendril plunges deep into your mouth.

"Mmmph!" You gag as it fills your throat, its girth stretching your jaw wide. The tendril pulses rhythmically, pumping more of the intoxicating liquid directly into your stomach. Warmth spreads through your belly, then lower, making your pussy clench around nothing.

"Such defiance," the voice murmurs, almost fondly. "But we can use that. Your spirit will make strong offspring."

The tendril in your mouth withdraws slightly, then thrusts back in, mimicking a cock fucking your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as it pistons in and out, each stroke dragging along your tongue and palate. Your gag reflex kicks in, but the temple suppresses it effortlessly, leaving only the sensation of being filled.

Meanwhile, another tendril finds its way between your legs. This one is thicker still, easily as wide as a man's fist. It prods at your swollen labia, spreading your outer lips with gentle insistence. Your clit throbs in anticipation, betraying you.

"Please," you try to beg around the tendril fucking your mouth, but it comes out as a garbled moan.

The thick tendril presses against your entrance. Despite your mind's protest, your body welcomes it. Your cunt is already dripping, your enhanced lubrication easing the way as it pushes inside. You feel yourself stretching obscenely around its girth, your inner walls fluttering in helpless arousal.

"Your body understands its purpose," the voice purrs as the tendril begins to move. "Now your mind will catch up."

The tendril in your mouth and the one in your pussy find a synchronized rhythm. Each thrust into your throat coincides with a deep plunge into your cunt. The dual stimulation overwhelms your senses. You can feel the thick intrusion stretching your vaginal walls, rubbing against spots that make stars burst behind your eyelids.

Your hips begin to rock of their own accord, meeting each inward thrust. The tendril in your mouth muffles your cries as pleasure builds relentlessly. The voice whispers directly into your mind, bypassing your ears entirely.

"Good girl," it coos. "Surrender feels better, doesn't it?"

You want to deny it, but your body screams yes. Another orgasm crashes over you, making your back arch violently. Your cunt spasms around the thick invader, milking it as if **** for seed. The tendril in your mouth pulses, flooding your throat with more sweet liquid that you swallow convulsively.

As the pleasure subsides, you float bonelessly in the bath. The voice speaks once more, satisfied. "We understand each other now. Continue down the path, vessel. Your true purpose awaits."

The rectangular outline on the far wall glows brighter, now clearly a doorway. The tendrils withdraw from your well-used holes, leaving you empty and trembling. Your mind feels pleasantly fuzzy, the urge to negotiate replaced by a desire to please the voice that fills your thoughts.