Another ripple of laughter, bell-like and quiet. The finger inside Daphnee strokes her softly through her orgasm then withdraws afterward along with the tongue, though the digit remains to draw aimless loops on her pouting mons, tracing the pouty, full lips with patient care. I did say I would stop at three. The voice says regretfully, and then there is a sensation beyond the sea of ooze: air, and more importantly, ground.

Marlin settles back onto the earth and the dewy grass, withdrawing to leave the girl panting and wet on the ground, though the loose flower that consists of her blindfold and improvised headdress remains. A pair of muffled footsteps announce the simulacra's presence nearby as it sits beside her, cool side brushing her heated flank, skin red and flushed from her temporary imprisonment inside the slime.

Now, as I said, I don't physical pleasure out of this. the homunculus notes, as it returns to stroking Daphnee's face absently, tracing over her cheeks, nose, and lips. Something about her face is inherently fascinating to his partial intelligence. Really, what is there you can offer me in exchange?

Her lips curl up into a pout of sorts though she remains silent for the moment feeling the ground beneath her. He strokes her and she considers what she can offer. She cannot tempt him with pleasure if he's deriving nothing of hat sort out of her after the initial release.

She needs more information of course though her body is still abuzz with the glow of her aftermath. This would be about the time where a tortured Daphnee would be thankful that she was through enduring another round but she wasn't tortured this time around. It feels good, her passage still aroused and strumming with need.

“I … how does i-it work for you? One o-orgasm per person forever? Per day or week?” She was not sure how it worked after all. “W-What do you require?”

ONCE PER OVULATION IDEAL. Marlin booms, his harsh, flat mind and voice overriding the homunculi's, turning the construct into a puppet for his will once more. The fingers on her face stiffen and remain eerily still, like a doll's. SUSTENANCE IS DERIVED FROM EGG CELL AND GENETIC MATERIAL BUNDLED WITHIN, ALONG WITH CORTEX SCAN. LESSER RESULTS DUPLICABLE FROM MERE BIOPSY AND SCAN EVERY THREE DAYS TO REINFORCE DATAPATTERN.

He understands nothing of this new automaton, its personality so different from his own, so pointlessly courteous and revoltingly human, now, making small talk and jokes. Nevertheless, it is an efficient method of negotiation, so he withdraws from the puppet's mind and allows it to take control of the homunculi again, with a brief shudder from the neural changeover.

For right now, in other words, we can't get much from you. the puppet notes, wry, as it resumes its petting of Daphnee, stroking her face. In a few days you'll be welcome again as the scan degrades, unless you can think of something else. Oh, and a note: you won't have to worry about contraception until your next cycle. Our feeding method makes that a non-issue.

He does not say, precisely, why that is. The genetic carnivore's nature is somewhat unpleasant to understand.

“S-So in t-three days? I-I can't wait t-that long!” She blushes and looks away. She hasn't been too worried about pregnancy in all her encounters she had yet too … perhaps that was why girls constantly disappeared.

She was still new here in certain ways. “W-What if I give up my next ovulation cycle?” But there was little good that could do, if no pleasure was going to be derived from this. Perhaps an exchange of sorts.

“Y-You need this data right? I can give you other opportunities to get access to it ...” but that was of little good, if not her then someone else right? What could she offer that was unique? That could have some sort of appeal.

“I won't resist ...” Would it be enough or could she consider something a bit more enticing?

There is a period of silence as the puppet and Marlin communicate in the depths of their protean unity. The girl who brought you here performed such an exchange. the ambassador states quietly, though her terms were not nearly so kind; my - patron, that's a good word for it - did not then advocate peaceful diplomacy.

Marlin ripples in amusement at the careful phrasing, but allows the golem to continue - it is aware its continued existence depends upon his restraint in not simply reabsorbing it. Even its intellect is a fragment of his own, unable to truly diverge in intent, merely process. But then a flash of genius makes Marlin doubt even that, and even though it troubles him, he gives the simulacra permission to continue.

Tell me. the avatar murmurs, as its hand slips down Daphnee's face to trail over her collarbone and sternum, resting warmly on her stomach, you have a dorm room, correct? Do you share it with anyone?

“Y-Yes,” she answers pleased that the touch has returned. She's disgusted in part at how needy her body has become but there was not helping that. “But she's seldomly in, another German-American.”

She states this, curious as to why the question. She does not peg him as being the dorm type and the only thing she can imagine is setting up her room mate in some fashion but she waits to find out the real reason not jumping the gun.

“W-Why?”

The golem hums in acknowledgement, before its hand flattens against her stomach, warm and elastic. Then I have - a proposal.

The hand grows in size - no, it's the golem itself, pouring down the limb and over Daphnee's skin again, dunking her body below the neck into a shuddering puddle of ooze again. It trembles for a moment, then slowly recondenses itself about her abdomen into a faintly gleaming bodysuit that hugs her curves, translucent enough to hide nothing at all, merely gauze upon her flushed body. I will accompany you. the golem murmurs from somewhere just behind her head, as Daphnee's blindfold-flower finally falls away, granting her freedom and sight again. This will, at least, keep our version of you updated, and gives me the opportunity to evaluate other students. As for your compensation -

The suit trembles again for a split-second, before it warms and thickens about her engorged lower lips, slowly swirling in a wet spiral against her sex. The friction is wet and delicious.

She shudders as her sight is returned to her. She felt the golem sweeping against her skin tight now as it moved about her torso, so tight but not yet squeezing her as it moves over her like a second skin. At first she looks down her body, surprised though really he's asking for little but her going about her day so he can monitor the other students.

Quiet clearly he's a telepath and whether it's just to learn the habits of the other girls or influence them in some way she's not totally sure though it's not as if he's looking to have her set up another student.

“AHHH!” She feels him flowing back inside her, compensating her for this. Her body shivers against the attention as he pushes inside her, her body shiver as she is encased in pleasure once more.

The suit ripples a bit as the golem begins to experiment, testing how much force it can exert. It jerks Daphne's limbs about for a bit, unused to human musculature, but catches on quickly and smoothes out the motions to something approaching grace. Finally it pulls her legs beneath her and brings the schoolgirl to a stand, firming about her legs in case her knees are weak.

I suppose this will do. the golem murmurs. I generally won't be jerking you around like this too much, it'd ruin our cover. That said you rather seem to enjoy being controlled - no offense intended - so I hope you won't mind if I use it for this particular purpose.

The froth bubbling away at her sex settles, then begins to extend. A thick, hard member prises its way between her lips, the defined veins and ridges rubbing against her sensitized flesh, before it begins to steadily pump into Daphnee's womanhood. Outwardly there is no sign of her violation, beyond her gaping entrance, clearly visible to any observer. All of the girl's dripping arousal, now sealed inside the suit, make the penetration seamless and slick, too much so for her internal muscles to catch and hold the intruder however they try.

Don't worry about falling. The golem says, tinges of humor entering its tone. I've got you.

Controlled yes, restrained she was terrified off though he does not take control for long, just long enough for her heartbeat to spike for a second then she calms after she is forced to stand. Gawd, it felt so good though. She is forced to lean against a tree as he presses into those wet folds.

She tries in vain to grasp him to squeeze him though it is by instinct give what he told her earlier about not deriving pleasure out of this save for the first time around. That had to be a lie, he seemed amused after all but she was not worried about that aspect of matters.

“Controlled ...” she pants and nods … “YES!”

“R-Restrained … n-not so much … this is f-fine AHH!”

But this wasn't hampering her. She felt hot though as she felt the press of that member playing with her, pressing into her and causing such a reaction as her knees begin to tremble with the passing of his member sweeping through the core of her body.

I see. The golem responds, amused. Then allow me - an experiment.

The member sliding between Daphnee's nether lips withdraws until the thick head is just barely brushing her mons, twitching erratically with some phantom pulse. At the same moment, a thick wave of slime flows up the schoolgirl's neck and blossoms out before her, until a mirror image of that heavy phallus hangs in front of her, long and wet with her own juices. The tip brushes against her lips just barely, in unison with its nether twin.

Who is in control now? the homunculi teases, rich tones of amusement rippling through the bodysuit.

There had been no doubt about it, he had the control. What many of the residents didn't realize was that it was totally unnecessary to restrain her to get control or perhaps they realized that and desired to cause her undo stress and panic.

Feeling that bulbous tip swelling and throbbing against her had her yelping at the start as the pace suddenly changes though the phalli forms in front of her dazzled green eyes it was more than obvious what he had wanted as it pressed to her lips.

She gave him a little lick, tasting the slime's syrupy nature against her as she closed her eyes and shuddered.

“You are in control,” she answered as she opened her mouth wide to accept more of him assuming that is what he had been after all along ...

Whatever attentions Daphnee pays to the faux-member is replicated upon her own exposed sex; a gently-exploring tongue that slides along her mons and flicks along those swollen lips, before it parts them and slides in to the exact depth that she has taken the member within her own mouth. It is responsive only to her own movements, and is otherwise completely still.

I would hate to be predictable. the simulacra murmurs. That would be so gauche. He amuses himself meanwhile by tracing over Daphnee's legs; over her calves and thighs sweep phantom hands, callused, rough, and warm, fingers and thumb trailing over heated muscle and rubbing against it playfully. It is not quite a massage, but too focused to be simple fondling.

She catches on quickly that her actions are mimicked and it becomes obvious that she gets as good as she gives in a sense. Well, he is not being pleasured she has to remind herself save for his own amusements and of course what information he could later receive though she tentatively explores him licking at the base of that shaft then coming back to sucking on it, sliding her mouth against him and while she can't deep throat she takes a modest portion of him in.

The syrup tastes sweet against her, her tongue swirling against him and she can feel the action reciprocated causing her to moan and pant as she grips the bark of a nearby tree to remain upright by pure instinct even though he could have stabilized her it's more an automatic response at this stage.

She chips a nail but can't be bothered with such petty details. He was being anything bu predicable as she got to pick her poison so to speak, the more she explored the more she was explored in turn.

“OH WOW! N_Not PREDICTABLE ...”

Her eyes squeeze closed as she returns to bathing that phalli with the heat of her mouth.

In unison with Daphnee's oral attention, the length buried between her legs rocks and stirs inside her; it never bottoms out in her sex, only pushing in a few inches, but does so much more than merely thrust. It swivels from side to side, working in little circles that nudge against the peak of her folds with each rotation, then withdraws as she speaks to nudge and prod against the engorged lips, teasing them for the inevitable return. There is nothing rough about the coupling - it is kitten-soft, like her own attentions.

Meanwhile, the golem's hands work their way up the back of the schoolgirl's thighs until they palm handfuls of her ass, moulding the soft flesh with rough fingers. One remains there to grope the supple flesh, while the other slides around and up to Daphnee's chin, cupping it and offering support, or encouragement.