Lorielle still seems angry at this .. entity.. at how it is taking advantage of the other women like this. "That's instinctual too! Male and female alike both prefer pleasure. It is one of the driving forces behind primitive procreation. This proves noth..aaahhhh"

The faerie's protests die in a scream as her vision goes dark.. everything fading until she is aware of nothing but her own body. Then she feels the soft, firm but spongy tentacles moving underneath her. She gasps and squirms, trying to find a way to crawl off the bed. But before she can do little more than THINK of escaping, she is captured and restrained. "Let.. me... go!" she screams. "What.. are you.. trying.. to prove?" she asks through gritted teeth.

For the moment, her anger is enough to keep the pleasure and arousal at bay, but as the tentacles start to squeeze and tighten around her breasts, her nipples stiffen and her body flushes with the start of pleasure.

The tentacles trace the curves of her body, while several focus on her most prominent curves. They coil around her tits and squeeze tighter, their bulbous heads flicking at her nipples and rubbing them with their leathery flesh.

"Your. Lust. For. Pleasure. Is. Too. Great. For. You. To. Resist," the voice taunted her. The tentacles began to coil further up her legs, stroking her thighs. Slowly, one rose between her legs, slithering over her crotch. Its bending shaft cupped her pussy, gently pressing against it.

""If. You. Do. Not. Want. To. Be. Raped. Then. Simply. Reject. This. Pleasure."

There is some truth to what the voice is saying -- Lorielle DOES love pleasure.. she does actively seek it out, in many forms. She is not embarrassed or ashamed of that, nor of the way her body responds to the tentacles. Her nipples quickly harden under the flicking heads, her breasts swelling with arousal even as they are squeezed tight. Her folds quickly growing damp, and then dripping wet as another tentacles slides between her legs, pressing and rubbing over her lower lips.

Fortunately for Lorielle though, her anger at this creature's explanations, and words is more than enough to keep her from submitting easily. "I reject you!" she announces firmly. "I reject this pleasure.. I do not want this.. I do not want you! Now LEAVE US ALONE!"

The voice seems to hum thoughtfully at her words, but even as it does, more tentacles emerge from the darkness. They start to stroke and caress her with more gentleness than their size and bulbous shape would imply they are capable of. By now, the tentacle against her sex is grinding dedicatedly against her sensitive sex, though it makes no move to penetrate her.

"There. Is. Determination. Within. You. ... A. Strong. Will." The voice sounds almost impressed, ;if such a thing is possible for whatever it is, hiding in the darkness of the ship. "But. How. Long. Will. It. Last?"

Lorielle can't help but writhe as more tentacles start to gently caress and tease her body, stroking her breasts.. her legs.. her ass.. even her wings. She gives a little sob as a small gush of juice suddenly rushes from her pussy to coat the tentacle stroking her folds, so that its motions are now accompanied by wet squishing sounds.

"Stttooooppp!!!" she whines, her voice already taking on a slightly melodic tone -- not yet a full Faerie song, but just a touch of what could be in her tone. "You said.... you would stop... if I.. rejected you... rejected the pleasure! And I DO! I REJECT YOU! Leave me alone!" Her protest sounds more like a plea, begging the Raktar to honor its words.

After the show for the circus, and then the half-day or more gangrape on the ship, Lorielle's body is already starting to become accustomed to this hyper-sexual state, this state of arousal and sensitivity that is being imposed on her. There is little doubt from the way she is reacting that she won't be able to hold out for long against the caresses of the tentacles -- MAYBE she could protest one more time.. but no more than that.

The tentacles act as though the thing doesn't hear her, continuing to grope and squeeze and molest her nubile body with their powerful muscles and thick skin. Despite the rough texture, they slide easily and sensually over her soft, smooth skin. Even the touch on her wings is surprisingly soft for the power she knows those tentacles possess.

"Your. Mind. Rejects," the voice drones in its gravely, mocking tone. "But. Your. Body..." As it speaks, the tentacle grinding against her sex pulls away, and rises before her. It twists in the air, turning in on itself until its tip is pointed back at her. Then, slowly, it moves towards her sex, seeming to pulse with eagerness to penetrate her. Yet its journey is slow and ponderous, letting the anticipation build.

Lorielle continues to buck and writhe against the tentacles that bind her - although it is a mix of pleasure and frustration that causes her movement now - rather than just one or the other. There is no denying the faerie's arousal as her wings are practically quivering with each stroke of the tentacles, her nipples are almost gem-like hard, and a steady stream of moisture runs from her glistening folds.

"The body..has... no choice... makes no.. .decisions. Only... the mind.. can choose. AND.... I..... REJECT..... YOU!" she repeats at the voice.

When the tendril at her sex pulls back and teases her with its approach.. another stream of nectar gushes from her folds. "Noo... please...don't." she begs softly now - but her voice has changed, taking on the full tone of her song. Even as she struggles to protest, her body YEARNS frantically for pleasure and satisfaction now. She hasn't even been penetrated, and already she is 'singing' for the creature.

The voice is silent, heedless, as the tentacle moves steadily towards her hole. It seems to pulse with its own arousal, though its texture isn't defined by veins so much as ridges, solid and rough. The bulbous head looks ready to spread her wide, as it had spread her the night of her first "performance". Promising violation and satisfaction in equal measure, it draws closer, and closer. Only seconds before it touches her, the voice speaks.

"Very. Well." Suddenly, the tentacle vanishes, as do the others around her. For a moment, the world is only black and emptiness.

Then, she's back on the floor of her cell - naked, bound, and gagged. The consuming presence of pleasure and lust that had been pressing in on her psyche has disappeared with the lustful visions and the gravely voice. But all around her, the other women continue to writhe and cry out in pleasure, moaning and furiously fingering themselves as Lorielle is left unsatisfied.

Lorielle makes musical mewling sounds of need and hunger as the tentacle keeps moving closer to her, her breath getting short and heavy as she studies the textured appendage that seems ready to give her body all the pleasure it can handle and more.

Then things go black, and suddenly she's back in the cell.

Despite what she told the entity, she screams into her gag in primal sexual frustration, tears running down her face. Seeing and feeling the other women all fucking themselves while Lorielle can't even touch herself is an entirely new level of frustration. Her wings are still quivering like she was in orgasm, even as she pulls hard enough at her chains that she might easily injure herself - frantic, and nearly insane from the arousal that burns through her and only grows as she watches and listens to cellmate after cellmate climax violently (and often multiple times).

No matter how many times the other girls climax, the creature's influence keeps them in sexual torment, forcing them to plunge their fingers into their soaking nethers and grope their own tits frantically. Their eyes are distant, still clearly lost in sexual illusions. But Lorielle is left in reality, alone, untouched. The monster leaves her to languish without satisfaction for a full minute, before the voice finally returns.

"Do. You. Concede?" it asks her. "Shall. I. Rape. You?"

By the time the voice returns to her head, Lorielle is nearly blind from the tears of frustration as she watches/hears half a dozen females all masturbating and cumming their brains out.

Despite a level of need that she has never experienced before, she bites her lip when it taunts her - fighting not to give in and submit to that creature. But she remembers the vision of what it promised her, visions of that thick...ridged..throbbing.. tentacle... poised over her body. Taunting her.. ready to ravish and pleasure her depths fully. She gasps as her wings stretch out and then begin vibrating hard as just the memory is enough to take the Faerie right to the edge of a monumental orgasm. An orgasm that won't come though!

It feels to the faerie like this torture goes on for hours - when in truth it is probably no more than a minute, maybe two. But then the fox-girl in the cell with Lorielle gives a piercing scream as she bucks uncontrollably with an absolutely bone-cracking orgasm. Her pussy squirts so hard that it sprays all over Lorielle as the faerie lays on the floor, clawing and pounding at it with her fists.

Feeling the other female cum all over her though not just causes Lorielle to snap, but the final mental defenses of the faerie literally disintegrate - shattering to the point that they are permanently broken. With the defenses gone, her body goes into survival mode - trying to cope with a level of arousal and frustration that her body wasn't meant to take. So her instincts do the only they can to handle it - as Lorielle's "baseline" condition is raised to compensate. After this, the Faerie will permanently be in a state of heavy arousal and sensitivity - the first 'step' in an addiction to sex and pleasure for the lost princess.

With all of her defense and protestations crumbling beyond repair, the faerie SINGS her arousal back to the voice. *YES!! FUCK ME!! RAPE ME!! RAPE ME HARDER THAN YOU'VE EVER TAKEN A FEMALE!* she responds, her song so sexual as if she were trying to make the entity lose control as badly as it has broken her. Both a surrender to it's lust, as well as a challenge to it to see if it can actually satisfy the fire it has lit within her.

Even in her sex-addled state, the lustful mind's presence seems to shudder with joy around her, as its pressure rushes back into her head. Her vision swims and goes black, and then returns. She has just an instant to reacquaint herself with her bed of tentacles before a tendril penetrates her, hard and fast. Thick and solid as stone, it wrenches her pussy open, pushing all the way to her cervix in one instant thrust. The next thrust pushes through her tight barrier, and it plunges into her womb.

When it starts to fuck her, there's no warning, no build up or acceleration, no time for her to acclimate. The moment it fills her completely, the tentacle cocks back, and then rams into her cunt so hard it bends her back. The next thrust comes just as hard, and the next, and the next. Tentacles wrap around her legs and spread them open, leaving her crotch exposed to be impaled again and again. Yet even though the position forces her hips to widen, the tendrils thick mass still stretches her wide with every domineering stroke. Her hands are bound by tentacles now, but in their place, more thick, dexterous tendrils roughly grope her body, spreading over her to squeeze her tits, rub her thighs, grip her hips, and even toy with her ass cheeks. All the while, it rapes her, as few things in the galaxy have ever raped a woman - with a desire to own her and use her that she can feel with every hard thrust in her waiting sex.

Lorielle gives a long, lingering moan as she feels the presence surround her and take her back to the bed of tentacles.

The very first thrust into her causes her to arch her back hard, and her Song is literally ripped from her throat as she orgasms. A song of lust, of tortured need, of complete surrender - somehow the song is both more violent, and also more erotic than any of her previous songs. Her walls clamp and suck at the thick tentacle, not wanting to let it go and pull back at all. Her pussy gushes out all over the shaft and onto the bed of tendrils below her.

As the beast thrusts again, piercing her womb, her Song grows louder, faster and more desperate as she climaxes even harder before the first one has finished. Her eyes stare in awe and hunger at the bulge moving through her abdomen from the giant tentacle.

She is given no respite as the tentacle pounds her hard and steady one after another - each thrust punctuated by her song becoming even more chaotic and erotic, by her body arching further and her nectar squirting out harder and faster with each orgasm. Her wings vibrate so fast that they are a near invisible blur like a hummingbird - adding another buzz and tone to her song.

Even without the tendrils holding her, Lorielle's back is arched almost into a U. The bulge caused by the tentacle slamming into her made even more obvious from this position. Her entire body heaves and quivers as other tentacles tease and stroke and play with her entire body - her thighs shaking with arousal, her breasts swollen and crowned with rock hard nipples.

The entity takes her roughly, ruthlessly - and she comes and comes again and again for it. But each orgasm, rather than satisfying the faerie, only seems to feed her need. *MORE!!! HARDER!!!! MOOOOOORRRRREEEEEE!!!!* she pleads as her body tries to fuck back into the tentacles as if trying to impale herself on all of them at once.

The tentacle thrusts hard and relentlessly, stretching her sex-hungry cunt open wide for her body to be pounded again and again. The appendages that hold her arms give ho slack, no leeway to thrash or writhe or flail in pleasure. They simply hold her in place to be fucked, and let her body take whatever pleasure from that it can. Evidently, that's a lot. Given her thrashing and screaming and constant cumming, that's evidently quite a bit. It would have smiled, if it could.

"This. Is. You. True. Nature," it taunts her, reminds her. "Begging. To. Be. Fucked. Senseless."

Whether it's her pleas or her gushing cum that lures it, or simply a desire to dominate her more thoroughly, a second tentacle rises slowly towards her nethers. It floats like a cobra, ready to strike with its big, bulbous head. And then it does. The thick tendril pushes past its twin into her pussy, and her walls are stretched even further. The two massive shafts begin to rampage inside her, stroking her with powerful thrusts as they both plow all the way into her womb in alternating thrusts, making separate bulges in her stomach. Suddenly, amid the wild thrusting, there's another pressure between her ass cheeks.

"You. Felt. Good. To. Fuck," the creature says, remembering. "I. Will. Take. You. Again. ... And. You. Will. Enjoy. It."

Then, the tentacle is pushing past her cheeks, into her tight, puckered anus.

Being so thoroughly restrained only seems to fuel the faerie's arousal and frustration - as if she can't reach her TRUE release while she is captive. And yet that isn't to say she isn't feeling pleasure as she just keeps climaxing with each powerful, mechanical thrust of the creature.

> "This. Is. You. True. Nature," it taunts her, reminds her. "Begging. To. Be. Fucked. Senseless."

And with all of Lorielle's mental defense down or broken, his words take root in her very being. Even if it were not true before - and may not even be true yet.. the suggestion is implanted that will ensure that it DOES in fact become part of her true nature.

*Yess... fuck..me... senseless.* her mind pleads to him.

When the second immense tentacle plunges into her beside the first, a scream mixes in with her song. A scream of mind-numbing ecstasy that burns into her soul. Intoxicating... addicting.. relentless.. pleasure. Her walls attempt to squeeze down even tighter around the two shafts that are almost too big for her to take. The bulges moving visibly through her abdomen as they explore her womb completely, and seem to be trying to stretch her further.

> "I. Will. Take. You. Again. ... And. You. Will. Enjoy. It."

*YYYYYEEEESSSSS!!! AGAIN!!!! MOOOORRREE!!!!!* she wails mentally as again the words take hold in her defenseless mind, again planting the seeds that will forever change the faerie princess' nature and reactions. If the Raktar can read her mind, it will sense that she is having visions again of it taking her in front of the circus audience.. watched by hundreds or thousands.. cameras catching her from every angle to record and broadcast the event.

Her fantasy only deepens her pleasure and arousal as the third tentacle pushes into her ass. Her rear channel is even tighter than her pussy, and seems just as sensitive and responsive as her pussy and womb. The faerie's song increases in volume and speed again as she starts to experience double-orgasms - cumming from each passage at the same time. Despite being filled more than ever before, and filled more than most females it has encountered could possibly take, the faerie's body shows no signs of weakening or coming down. *Please....More! More!!* she begs in a plaintive voice.

Despite her plea, there is a true question of just how much more her body can truly take without harm.