You become the abomination's plaything

The former miner is constantly re-positioning itself and your body to hold Russ at bay. Along with the countless other tentacles not being utilized to keep your body restrained or currently molesting you, your companion is unable to find an opening to attack the beast. You're too well bound for him to simply rip the appendages from your limbs, though that doesn't stop him from attempting. When the swordsman lowers his guard to tear at your restraints, he's **** away by a dozen violently whipping appendages.

His mind races. Perhaps there's something useful among your gear? Lamp oil would be too dangerous, you'd likely get caught up in the flames... but you brought little else with you into the mines, the rest of your possessions left with your mounts. Maybe one of the supply stations here in the mines could have something?

"Sabine, I'm going to search the supply station! I'll be right back!" He's already jogging away from the scene.

You panic - what if he doesn't come back in time? What if he doesn't come back at all? "No, Russ, don't leave me!" The rubbing of the fat protrusion against your virgin cleft is growing more insistent and you're losing control of your restraint again. Your cunt feels so empty and hot, and you're not sure if the liquid slathered all around your groin isn't entirely the slime of the tentacles.

Russ pauses, torn between staying by your side just as helpless as you, or abandoning you, however briefly, to maybe find something that could tear you away from its grasp. If lingering with you could accomplish anything more than relieving your frantic mental state, he would consider the options longer, but knowing that you're doomed if he doesn't look for some sort aid, your companion turns and dashes down the tunnel.

"Hold on, Sabine! I'll be back as soon as I can. Just be strong!" This sexual **** is driving you to hysteria. You're about to shout something to that effect over your shoulder to Russ to call him back when a thick, ooze-covered cock slithers past your lips and fills your mouth with its girth. Your cries become muffled grunts and moans. You can no longer plead for Russ to stay with you. You're on your own.

Without your companion to keep the monstrosity distracted, it quickly progresses with your body. Your leather bodice and skirt do little to discourage it, so it doesn't even bother to strip you. The tentacle that has been priming your pussy eagerly rips away the scant protection of your lace panties and begins to nuzzle its way into your swollen snatch. You can only stare at it with dread anticipation as it enters you slowly, splitting open your virgin depths bit by agonizing bit until it meets the resistance of your hymen.

You shake your head frantically side-to-side, praying desperately for a miracle to save you. Your only response is a mournful and sympathetic scream of agony that mirrors your own when the creature plows his way through your final barrier, stuffing you so full of aberrant cock flesh that you can feel your innards shifting. The goddess' scream is cut short - that's the last time you ever feel your connection to the Burning Rose.

Satisfied to see the blood trickling down its dick and mingling with its own fluids, the horror begins to fuck you eagerly, giving you no time to adjust to the thickness or unnatural length of it. Your eyes roll back in your head in a daze of pain, unwanted lust, and some new sensation that you're afraid could be sexual pleasure. You bounce like a rag doll in the creature's grasp, your legs and hips rocking from the eager thrusts of the tentacle, and your pert tits jiggling within the confines of their brassiere.

In your shock, you don't realize that the rocking of your hips isn't wholly unintentional, or that your tongue is swirling around the appendage **** your face. Your muffled screams and pained moans have subsided, replaced almost entirely by slurping sounds and grunts that indicate particularly deep thrusts. When another intruder begins to probe the last virgin hole on your body, you offer only a few whines of protest before it begins to wriggle into your clenched pucker.

Your body goes taught when the creature invades your arse, but that only seems to encourage it. You arch your back, shimmy your hips, and twist every which way to try to accommodate the triple penetration with as little discomfort as possible. Eventually you relax, rolling your body with the rhythm of the fucking you're receiving to the best of your ability. You still wince now and again from the foreign shaft worming its way into your colon, but you find that the more you work with the alien creature, the better it all feels.

It could just be an effect of the slime - there's undoubtedly some sort of aphrodisiac absorbing into your skin - but the fucking has finally stressed your willpower to the breaking point. You release a contented sigh and bob your mouth on the dick depositing its thick ooze down your throat. Already your body has been moving in harmony with the pumping you're receiving, but now you're actually trying to seek out the pleasure, clenching your inexperienced muscles around its dick. The pain of your deflowering is a rapidly fleeting memory, and your devotion to the Burning Rose is all but a footnote in your life. You only regret that Russ isn't here to witness your transformation. No, that's not quite right... you realize that you'd wanted it to be Russ all along who makes you a woman.

But he's not here, you remark bitterly. A foul creature will be the first thing to sate your carnal desires, spoiling you for all other men. If Russ wanted you so badly, he should have **** himself on you when he had the chance. Now you're giving it up for an abomination and... it's soooo good.

Something is happening to the dick fucking your face. It's trembling and growing even thicker and... It answers your confusion a moment later with a blast of hot, thick liquid, even creamier and pungent than the slime that had already been drooling out the corners of your lips. You struggle to swallow as it pumps, and pumps, and pumps. You've never guzzled so much liquid, even parched from training on the hottest days of summer. Now you have **** but to swallow as much as you can lest you drown in it. Even so, it backs up in your throat and runs freely out of your mouth and down your chin, staining your pretty face to look like a well-used harlot.

You can't believe the taste, salty and bitter, but also heady, intoxicating. It warms you up from the insides and stokes your desire even greater than before. It's just like the lust venom of daemons - this certainly isn't a daemon, but perhaps there is some distant relation. That's the last rational thought your mind can process before devolving into an erotic mush. The tentacle finally withdraws itself and you gasp for fresh air before giggling and licking your lips. "That's not all, is it? I want more of it inside me... You'll give me more, won't you? My belly is ripe and ready. You can breed me if you want... just don't stop cumming..." You've no idea whether the monster can even understand you, but that doesn't stop you from affecting your voice with the most seductive tone you can manage.

You're moaning freely now, your feminine sounds echoing through the mines. "Ah... ah... mmm... yes... more... more... fuck me!" You arch your back again, involuntarily this time as the ecstasy mounts and your body convulses. "I'm cumming... oh, ooh, yes! Cumming! Cum in me! Ahhhh!" You're rewarded with a blast of warmth and fluid just as thick and hot as what had previously filled your mouth to overflowing. You can actually hear a muffled belching noise in your guts as the immense volume of semen fills you like a torrent. Your normally flat tummy bulges, even as an obscene amount of slime gushes out of you, coating your thighs. The dick ravaging your ass begins spewing its foul contents as well, stuffing every opening to the brim with the abomination's corrupted cream.

Even before it's done, you can feel a change creeping inside your body. You feel a psychic connection to the drone that has seeded you, and to the others deeper in the mines, but most of all to your queen, buried far below the surface. You can feel the first wrigglings of the parasite quickly growing in your body and understand that it spreads too quickly and too completely to escape your fate... Not that you want to. "Russ, where are you?" You moan with lingering desire. Your voice has changed. It has a discordant echo, like two voices speaking together slightly out of sync. "I have a gift for you... a wonderful gift... don't you want to fuck me?" The other drone, since that is what you are now as well, releases you to wander in search of your first victim. First Russ, and then the rest of Slurry. Your tongue thickens into a tentacle and then shifts back to normal as you lick your lips in anticipation.