The young woman sighs as she's lifted up onto the other's ophidian body and set astride it, like some grotesque (but oh so right) phallus. Between her legs, she can feel Nyria's every movement, every twitch and gesture conveyed into the jewel between her legs by cords of muscle buried deep in the snake-woman's body. She rocks back and forth, half grinding against the other woman, half in a dizzy state of dream-like transport, the sheer unreality of the situation finally getting to her. Surely this must be a dream - to have congress with a beautiful snake-nymph in a glade ever-lit with eternal sunset? She doesn't really care, and simply rides it out - quite literally.

But Nyria's words give her pause, give the cautious, marooned voice in the back of her mind some strength. Seed? That meant - oh. Morgan can feel something blood-hot creeping its way up her leg, jouncing slightly in time with the snake-woman's heartbeat. In her current position, she can't see much of it, but she has an awful feeling that it's getting bigger, harder, and that it's making its way towards her labia, blindly stabbing its way up her leg. It's a cock. She doesn't know what to feel about that. Should it change anything? Probably not. She came to this island for this, full of plans and elaborately laid seductions to enact against anything with a Y-chromosome, and here she is, poised just inches above her lover's inches, only gravity and strong hands keeping her from impaling herself on Nyria's shaft. She's nearly overcome by lust, an urge to be filled, a sense of wild abandon and sluttiness; that she needs this, that there's nothing to be afraid of. But only almost. She'd thought of her first time with a woman as different - doubtless just a relic of her upbringing in a patriarchal society, she admits - and it's all happening so quickly. Questions of physical possibility also plague her - while, academically, she knows that men can fit inside women that way, and her vagina aches to be filled, her mind reels at having all of that pushed up inside her, pistoning into her again and again. Her words earlier to the contrary, she's suddenly not entirely sure that she wants to go through with this.

Eagerness and caution clash in her sweat- and sex-drenched mind, and the result is nearly too close to call. She wants this, to be filled with hot seed, and yet she doesn't want it - and the latter is enough to give her cause at least to delay, if not resist. She shifts in her bonds - suddenly panicking that she's stuck, immobilised just above the ophidian's member, and words spill forth in a confused, mumbling torrent.

'I thought - what do you mean you want to - how come you have a - a, one of those? You were a woman, then you were a snake now you - is this a dream? I think I want to wake up now,'

Her legs shudder, knees pulling closed together, then shivering apart again. She's at war with herself, with better instincts at war with higher faculties.

'I didn't know - what are you doing to me? What have you done?'

It was too late to get cold feet at this point. Not that the snake woman would listen to such pleas. She merely continued to gaze at her trapped prey. Her forked tongue flicked out, tasting the woman's desire in the air. "What have I done?" she repeated, "You are the one who leapt at the first opportunity to fuck ssomeone. Alone, away from your controlling parents. You can do anything you want and you embraced it. You begged me to take you and take you I shall," she hissed, her tendrils tightening and slowly pulling the woman downwards. Eventually, those knees would give and the human would impale herself on Vespira's rod. "I can feel your wetness running down your thighs," she hissed, "Your body trembles, eager to be filled by me, to feel my touch once more. You even came when I bit you, you dirty little sslut. Do not pretend you did not know what you were doing. You knew very well what you were doing. It felt so very good and you did not want it to ever stop."

Her eyes would continue to hypnotize the woman. Even if the woman resisted her suggestions, it provided further distraction and disorientation for the already confused woman. Vespira's glistening tip pressed up against the woman's nether entrance, ready to split her in half the moment those legs finally give. "Don't fight it. Thiss is who you really are deep down insside. You chassed after a naked woman in the forest, hoping to join her. You then leapt at the first posssibility of experimenting with ssex with another, no matter the gender. Thiss is who you are when otherss are not watching, you little whore."

Her hands cupped those firm breasts, massaging them and letting her scales drag across the tender skin. A tendril teasingly began to flick her exposed clit back and forth, adding further jolts of pleasure as juices run down her swollen cock. "Trusst me, Morgan," she hissed, "No man will ever give you the pleasure you have felt sso far. Remember how good it felt to submit, to let go and give yoursself to me. Feel your kneess grow weaker, your body giving in to your deepesst wanton desires." She did not relent in her mental and physical manipulations. She kept teasing her with pleasure as she pounds her psyche with suggestion after suggestion, enjoying the inner struggle this woman was going through.

At the continual onslaught of whispering, sibilant words, alternating between dismissive castigation and alluring seduction, Morgan begins cry. It couldn't be true, could it? She'd come out of curiosity, she'd been cozened into being 'massaged', she'd been drugged with something, then lifted up onto this woman's shaft like an inverted sword of Damocles. And yet - she had come, hadn't she? That was just what rapists said to make them feel in the right, but she'd enjoyed it, she'd cried out in pleasure while Nyria played her like a harp, tweaking and twisting and caressing in all the right places to - oh! She looks into the snake-woman's face, realising for the first time just how far up she's having to crane her neck. Without her glasses, with her eyes misted with salty tears, she's nearly blind to the world, but she can still see those eyes with perfect clarity.

'This … this isn't me. You did something, even before you bit me … I just wanted to …'

What? What did she want? She had wanted to come out here, she had wanted to take off her clothes, but to what purpose? Surely not … this? Surely she didn't want this to happen. Or did she? Maybe this was who she truly was?

Her words dissolve into mewling incoherence, but she picks up some strength, some sense, after a short while.

'Why? Why do you want to do this to me? If … if I give myself up to you, what then? What do you want from me?'

Beneath her, she can feel the hard, blunt, bloated tip of this woman's - this thing's - cock at her entrance. It pulses with Nyria's heartbeat - an andante throb against the most sensitive spot of her body. With each beat, she fears that this is going to be the thrust that enters her, and she pushes futilely up against the tentacles that envelop her and drag her down, seeking to get away from this thing between her legs. All things considered, her runner's muscles might have kept her away, above the snake-woman, but she can't handle the attention to her breasts, as well - and when one of the thin, whip-like tendrils goes to work on her lit, she gives out, moaning in pleasure and anticipation despite herself. Her legs fold and give way.

Morgan catches herself, but not quickly enough. The tip - just snake-woman's glans, just a little bit of her full fourteen inches - slides into her. She's wet, so wet she feels oiled, and between that and the lubrication dribbling from Nyria's member, it slips in easily. It hurts, though - the length and girth of even a small fraction of it makes her feel uncomfortably distended, flesh stretched around the invading cock. She cries out, locking her legs to arrest any more of this painful presence inside her, but even as she does so, she can hear a voice - her own voice, not the the woman's - whispering in her ear, telling her that this can all be over, that she can feel so much better, if only she'd just let go and let it all … slide … in ...

"I merely wish to open your eyess to what you really are, little whore," she cooed with pleasure. Vespira admired the tears that ran down those cheeks. She just had to keep pushing her buttons and the poor woman would do the rest of the work for her. Her resistance only made her prey more appealing. She was breaking this woman little by little and she loved every moment of it. The defeated moan followed by those legs giving for a moment brought her little pet a step closer to complete domination. The snake woman hissed with pleasure, feeling those tight virgin walls cling hungerly around her pulsing tip.

"Lissten to yourself moan," she whispered, "You love this. You want me to break you in. You want to just bend over this sstone and let me plow thiss hot meat into your body." Her tendrils loosen a bit, no longer putting constant pressure on the student's body. She will just let the woman remain where she was, feeling her heated rod pulse just inside her entrance. Vespira traced a finger along the woman's parted slit, gathering a large amount of her dribbling juices. She holds her finger up to the light and brought it closer to Morgan's face. "See thiss? Smell thiss?" she giggled softly, "Thiss is you... This is how much your body yearnss to just fall onto my hot meaty spike. Try it... Let yourself lower just another inch. Feel me go jusst a bit deeper into your soul... You will not regret it, Morgan..."

'That's not who I am!'

Morgan whimpers piteously, appalling even herself with how far she's fallen. When the tentacles relax, she twists and turns, trying to wriggle free from them, although it only succeeds in working herself down another inch onto the snake-woman's shaft, causing her to cry out in anguish as the head slips in more fully, pushing her nether lips apart just a fraction of an inch more. Perhaps she sought to escape - perhaps she wanted to feel a bit more of it inside her - Morgan doesn't know, and it's just as unreadable to Vespira.

'I can't love this, it's just all too … just take me, rape me, or let me go, don't make me choose, please, Nyria, please!'

She bucks back when she feels the finger moving over her slit, fearing some fresh torment, and she's hardly disappointed. The smell of her own arousal serves as, if not proof, then at least strong evidence that her body' given in, that it's betrayed her. She can smell her own salty fluids, but mixed in with them is the sweet, syrupy scent of the other woman, a fact that both repels and attracts her. She is, in some way, Nyria's, now - even if she were to escape this moment, there would still be the taste of another person inside her. That shouldn't be a problem, though. She can already feel herself weakening further, whether by the venom coursing through her veins, by exhaustion or by her own weakening resolve, and she's going to slip another few inches soon - rapidly approaching the point where she won't be able to force any more of it into her by her weight and strength alone.

"You can love thiss and you are..." she hissed, cooing with pleasure as several more inches of her cock were now inside the woman's trembling form. "Listen to yourself. You are begging me to fuck you, to rape you. You never wanted to be in control. You wanted to be broken and fucked like the whore you are. Your insidess are clinging to my thick cock, pulling me deeper inside your body." The tendrils would loosen more, now just caressing Morgan's body and not holding the woman at all. "Have you ever felt someone's cock before?" she asked, knowing the answer, "Touch it with your hand, wrap your fingerss around it. Feel its power, its might. This is what will break you... tame you... and make you mine, Morgan."

"If you think I am wrong then you are free to get up off my rod and step away," she teased, knowing the woman may be too exhausted to do even that even if she wanted to. "But if you want me to fuck you, you know what you must do. Fall... take me inside your body as far as you can. Then you rise... feel empty without me inside you. Then fall again." Her hands slide up Morgan's body, cupping those breasts. She gave them a firm squeeze, letting her feel those small scales on her hand. The serpent woman continued her massage where she left off, gneading those soft breasts and molding them like a sculptor working with clay.

And this … this is what it all comes down to, in the end. She's been given a choice. An ultimatum. Her will's not her own, that's true, and her choice isn't really a choice at all, but it is what it is - a symbolic Rubicon against her own body, her own pride, her own self-respect. Exhausted, supported only by Nyria's squeezing, grasping hands, she dangles limply for a minute, the head of the serpent-woman's cock lodged inside her. Her arms feebly swing round, to reach underneath her, feeling her rapist's member, moving up and down its length - as far as she can reach, at any rate. They're not sensual gestures, but rather swift, absent-minded flutters, feeling, getting a grip on lengths and thicknesses, and feeling the scaly texture on the hardened member. It's less abrasive than it could be - the individual scales are tiny, their surfaces a little leathery and membranous - but it's still an alarming idea to have to push that inside her.

Some more time goes by, and Morgan rests mute in Nyria's hands, unable to move. There are no words, but when the time comes, there is no need for them. Tears of shame and defeat streaming down her cheeks, she pushes the kneading hands away, reaches down beneath the ophidian's hips, and pulls herself down. It's not the gentle rise-and-sink that she'd been told to do; she's far beyond following orders, and voluntarily abases herself to the other's pleasure. With each heave, with each clench and twist and wiggle of her hips, she splits herself open a little more on the thick, iron-hard cock inside her. She's tight, overwhelmingly tight, and despite being slick and wet inside, each inch that she forces inside herself elicits another moan of pain, and, somewhere in there, pleasure. One thrust causes her to cry out in particular anguish, and elicits one or two tiny beads of blood, but she's far too far gone to mark this moment.

For several moments the battle was fought within the trembling human woman. The sun had long since disappeared over the horizon and now the moon had begun casting its silver glow over the lake. Morgan's lithe form could be seen trembling, her body glistening with sweat as she remain partially impaled on Vespira's wonderful phallus. The alien would feel the woman's fingers grasping her rod and running down its length. She would feel just how thick and long her cock was. Even with no experience, the woman would know that most human males would not sport anything nearly as large as this.

Then in a sob of defeat, Vespira's hands were pushed away and young woman began pulling herself down onto the throbbing meat. "Uhhhnnnnn... Yessssss!" she groaned, her body arching under the moonlight. The small woman was so deliciously tight. Every inch she went down was another inch of the alien's rod being squeezed by those clenching velvet walls. Her tendrils withdrew, allowing Morgan to feel only the cock filling her insides and her devastating defeat.

The loud cry revealed her virginity being broken. The snake woman could taste the virgin blood in the air. But student did not seem to care, too lost in the moment as she pulled herself further and further. With each inch there always seemed to be another, was there any end to this powerful rod? "Mmm... Yesss... I feel your insides clinging to me," she cooed, "How does it feel? How does it feel to know you were nothing more than a sex hungry whore all this time?"

Morgan lolls, supported and kept upright by nothing but the alien member inside her, like a second spine. This last effort has drained her, taken so much of the strength out of her, that she's coated in a gleaming sheen of sweat from head to toe, and her muscles no longer really obey her mental commands - not that her mind's really her own at this point, anyway- and they tremble against her lover's long, serpentine tail, sending faint, random vibrations through her scaly skin. Where her legs join - and where she is joined with Vespira - she's worn like a glove, cock-tight, muscle walls distended perfectly around the thick, alien cock that transfixes her.

'I don't know … I - am I a whore now? Am I a slut? Is this adultery? I suppose - I suppose that's who I am now. I'm a slut. I'm your whore. Fuck-doll.

And as to how it feels -'

She manages something choked, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, as her shoulders slump, and all the remaining strength and resolve goes out of her spine. She falls against the snake-woman, whose soft, luscious breasts cushion the impact. She keeps eye contact, though, and smiles a strange, joyless (but not passionless) smile.

'It - it feels like you'll have to finish this, Nyria. I can't get any more inside me. Not alone. That's what you want, isn't it? To use me like that to humiliate me like that, to make me hurt inside and in my mind, to …'

She trails off in a near delirious stream of words and sounds. A little saliva drips from the corner of her mouth, mixes with her tears, but she doesn't - she can't - reach up to wipe it away.

It was a wonderful transformation to behold as Morgan's will simply collapsed. The mental and physical torment had finally taken their toll on the helpless human woman. As the woman sobbed and laughed in delirium, Vespira ran her fingers through the student's hair. She stroked her like she were petting a cat. Those eyes never broke away from the alien's, unable to fend off the hypnotic attack. "Shhh..." she hushed, "The truth hurtss... But now you know yourself a bit more. Do not fight what you are. Embrace it. Your empty life has purpose. You are a slut. You will only feel whole when feeling the heights of pleasure. Pleasure I can provide. Am I not kind to reveal this all to you, ending your time living a lie and giving you a new path to follow?"

Her hands slid down Morgan's sides and rest around her hips. Granting the woman's wish, she began to buck her hips upwards. Her powerful thrusts would bounce the impaled student up and down on the massive phallus. The serpent hissed and cooed with pleasure as she felt her hot meat grind against those tight inner walls. Over and over, gravity would pull the poor woman right down onto her cock. Her searing hot tip would melt its way deeper and deeper until she is pounding away at the woman's cervix for a new level of pain and pleasure. The tiny scales of her rod would feel like countless tiny threads tickling her insides and grazing along the woman's g-spot.

"Do not cry," she hissed, "Embrace what you are. Scream... Tell the entire island what you are and how much you love it..." Her tendrils would slither over Morgan's body, stroking and wrapping around breasts while other began flicking her nipples and clitoris. One tendril soaks itself in the cold water of the lake before slithering up between the cheeks of the student's ass. The wet tip would prod at the student's anus, pushing to get inside the other virgin hole.

Morgan writhes under the caresses of the other woman, every muscle in her body curling and uncurling, tensing and relaxing in her every touch and motion. Her gaze remains locked on Nyria's, however; her head makes precise little movement and corrections to maintain eye contact, but otherwise, she's still from the head up. Tears stream down her face, and choked sobs are torn from her throat as these stark truths are whispered to her.

And then, it gets worse. With the snake-woman's hands pulling her down, and her hips pushing her up, she's forced down onto the prodigious phallus of the woman beneath her, until it almost feels as if she's being split apart. And then, she's pulled up, the inflamed muscles of her vagina rippling and grasping onto the receding member, instinctively trying to milk it of its precious seed, fearing that it's gone forever and never coming back - before she slams back down on top of it. Each time she bottoms out on Nyria's cock - with still only two-thirds of it inside her - she opens her mouth in a silent scream. The breath is knocked out of her with each impact against her cervix, bruising her insides and making her feel utterly conquered by the other woman, who's practically harpooned her at this point. Consequently, her cries of pleasure and pain are nothing but a hoarse whisper, barely audible above the soft roar of the waterfall, the hisses of her lover, and the occasional splashes of their brutal lovemaking.

'I'm a slut - I'm a whore - I'm worthless - I'm nothing but a sleeve for you to empty yourself into - to fill up and then discard - and I love it!'

The tentacles wriggling across her flesh enrobe Morgan, covering her like vines on some ancient temple, exploring and insinuating themselves over every part of her. She can feel the familiar sensation of them tugging at her breasts, pulling and massaging them, as well as the stinging, pleasure-filled impacts of their heads against her nipples and lit. But elsewhere, across her body, she feels new, unfamiliar impressions - arcs of electric arousal shooting across her back, across the nape of her neck, across her knees, as the tendrils new erogenous zones she never knew she had, coaxing her to new heights of sexual fulfilment. Before, she would have feared the intrusion of something strange, something icy-cold, into her rectum, but such squeamishness is part of a Morgan who's not here right now, and so she kicks against the encircling vines, trying to force herself downwards. Her sphincter tightens, clenching involuntarily against the cold, and so she simply mashes her buttocks against the tentacle, trying to push it inside her.

There were no more words of protest coming from her prey's lips, only the constant mantra she was ordered to say. Vespira groaned, feeling the wonderful tightness milking her cock as she impaled the poor woman over and over again. She could feel her cock twitching violently inside the woman, quickly reaching the brink as tendrils continued to throw more gasoline into Morgan's lustful fire. The human woman was taking an active role in this despite her exhaustion, trying to push herself onto the wet tendril pushing at her anus while her struggles kept grinding her insides against the large meaty spike she was impaled on. Vespira's nails dug into Morgan's skin as she held on tight, hissing loudly as she focused on forcing the vile appendage into the tightened passage.

"Nnngh... Yessss... That'ss it you sslut!" she cried as she felt the tight walls of Morgan's ass crushing her tendril, making every inch something to work and strive for. The tendril would twist inside the woman, drilling through the human's resistance while her cock plowed in and out with less and less effort. Still holding the woman tightly, Vespira began to slam the human up and down on her cock faster. Her hips bucked upwards to meet each pull downwards, smashing the student's insides into putty. Then the alien woman arched her body, her head rearing back as she let forth a loud cry of triumph. Her cock pressed against the woman's cervix a final time and began to blow her molten cum right into the human's womb. Her phallus would twitch and spasm violently, blow load after load of hot spunk into the woman's core until it could not hold anymore. The excess would squish around her cock and begin oozing out of the woman's gaping vagina all while the tendril in her ass continued to drill harder and deeper while keeping her impaled on the wonderful cock that was filling her.

The creature's nails digging into her back score thin, shallow cuts down her partner's back, as her hands slip a little when trying to pull her down, leaving thin red welts and a few beads of blood. She regains her grip, though - it's not like her little fuck-puppet has noticed - and forces her down an inch or two more. Only one of Morgan's narrow hand-spans of Vespira's cock is left unsheathed, as she's violated yet again, her insides bruised by the hammering impact.

With so much of Vespira inside her body, Morgan can feel the other woman coming. It starts with a deep shuddering, and only gets more powerful from there. Morgan dances like a ragged doll on Vespira's cock, arms and legs flailing as she's rocked by the convulsions from the ophidian's orgasm. With each contraction of powerful muscles rooted deep in Vespira's body, another spurt of seminal fluid is driven up inside Morgan, a sudden flare of wet sticky heat inside her loins. Some of it seeps out, further lubricating her insides and allowing the invading cock to pierce even deeper into her, but the vast majority is forced by the tremendous pressure of her lover's body through her cervix and into her womb. Unready for such an onslaught, inelastic and unprepared, it hurts tremendously, but a distinct bulge begins to form on Morgan's abdomen as the flood of seed is forced somewhere. And all the while, the tentacle in her ass works its lithe, sinuous way inside her, curling round her bends of her lower gut, wearing her like a tight glove, and churning her guts with each orgasmic flex and shudder. Unprompted, unthinking, she reaches up to Vespira's neck, pulls it down, and thrusts her own small tongue into the other's mouth, darting it in and out, a feeble but desperate imitation of the violation that she's suffering down below - just something to rescue herself from complete passivity and defeat.

It felt absolutely heavenly as all that tension blew deep inside Morgan's womb. The woman's clinching walls milked her cock as if trying to drain more of the life giving seed into her body. The poor student would no doubt be very sore in the morning after this but for right now, the woman was too lost in the heated pleasure she was feeling right now. The venom ensure she remained ripe and juicy for fucking but even that may have become unnecessary. With her strength ebbing away, Morgan was not doing much to participate beyond letting herself be used as a victim. But that suddenly changed when the woman wrapped her arms around Vespira's neck and began to kiss her deeply. "Mmm..." she purred into the deep kiss, her forked tongue wrapping around the invader and sucking on it gently.

The two embraced each other with the constant pulse of the monster's phallus still deep inside Morgan's womanhood. The wet tendril continued to break in the student's tight ass, the cold water making the process less painful than just thrusting a dry appendage down there. The deeper it went, the more it rubbed up against her own cock between the thin walls of flesh bordering the two tightly spread passages. The alien held the deep kiss, their bodies pressed up against one another. Her full breasts mashed and melded around Morgan's, hardened nipples flicking over each other with each deep shuddering breath they took. The moon cast its glow upon the student and monster, locked in an eternal embrace of deep sexual desire. When her cock finally stopped spurting her seed, she broke the kiss and looked down at her prey as she admired the look of awe that she expected on virgin's face.

Morgan is of one flesh with Vespira now. She's penetrated at every orifice by tongue, tentacle, and cock; she's gripped in her arms, and is practically enveloped in the soft, yielding flesh of Vespira's breasts. It's practically the only part of her that is yielding; everything else, every part of the snake woman, is intimately violating her. On a tide of hormonal lust, aphrodisiac venom, broken will, and coerced consent, she rides her lover, breaking herself against and on her.

And so, with her womb distended obscenely outwards, taut with vile seed, with an icy wet tentacle forced deep into her guts, and the ophidian's sweet saliva tricking down her chin, she is broken, crushed. She lolls back, nothing supporting her but the still-firm shafts rooted inside her, grinding herself down onto them and relishing the resultant pain, despite herself. She looks back at the ophidian, regarding her with a look of wonder and terror. Her voice cracks as she whispers back to this creature, this thing, that's been raping her for what seems like hours, and that she can't help but worry that she gave herself willingly to.

'What … what happens now? Did - did you enjoy it?'