Face the Demon

You brave yourself and decide to go for the Demon. You take the left turn cautiously, knife in hand, creeping step by step until the figure comes into full view and causes you to freeze.

It's the demon from before- the one chained in the potion room. It must have been set loose to help find you. You quickly grip your knife entering a combat stance, but it's futile. Four tentacles lash out immediately- one for each limb. It wraps around your wrists and ankles, and scoops you up into the air, wrapping around you as it brings you closer.

You resist as hard as you can, until you feel more tentacles looking around under your robes. You try to hold yourself shut, but both slither up and find an entrance. Being taken in both ends at once, you cry out, but that only ends up allowing a third tentacle into your now open mouth. As impossibly big as these appendages are, they are clearly very malleable, and slide their way inside you with no issue at all.

With all three writhing their way as deep as they can go, completely neglecting your struggles, you begin to panic. You feel more spread open than ever in your life, but cannot even draw the breath to scream as your throat is taken deeper than you've ever imagined, your esophagus being explored in its entirety.

Suddenly, they stop. You think you've found your chance until they begin to pump their ooze at an alarming rate. Your mind panics as you are **** to drink and gulp, feeling yourself leaking from everywhere, until suddenly all tentacles retreat, dropping you to the floor. Is this your chance?

You arise to your feet, struggling to stand for a moment, and ready yourself again to fight. But slowly, your stance goes neutral, and you feel your face go slack.

You're thinking- but you are not in control. Slowly, your body walks on auto pilot up to the demon, and then assumes a kneel. More tentacles arise, surrounding your face, and you can only spectate from behind your eyes as your body acts on autopilot, under the control of the ooze. You feel as your own jaw willingly opens, and your own head voluntarily descends, wrapping the meat before you in your lips and then progressing into your throat.

One extra tentacle in each hand, pumping away, and expertly sucking on the one directly before you, you spend the next several minutes taking care of the monster. Your mind races to consider any possible outcome, as you still feel the soreness of your wrists pumping, and every movement of the tentacles your body is now willingly throating. The only thing you do seem to control yourself is your gag reflex, but all you seem to be able to do is ****.

Bobbing your head up and down, lips firm and tongue expertly working, you feel nothing but shame. You're supposed to be an elite hunter, and you're stuck doing this?

Your only rest comes when you hear voices behind you. You get scooped up by yet another Demon, to the murmuring protest of the current one, still unable to move. Your vision begins to black out as you are dragged roughly through the halls.

As sore as you feel regaining control of your body, you know it has barely gotten started. It's time to answer to Mother.