The demon was amazed that she continued to fight as he regained her feet. Her discombobulation was still something he didn't understand but he counted his blessing as the inch thick tentacles managed to wind there way around her wrists and ankles a couple times limiting her movement. As dangerous and violent a student as he had ever run accross he decided taking chances with her was a bad idea.

The tentacles slithered over her blouse pinning her arms to her sides as her legs kicked at the grass and soil of the clearing. She clearly would fight to the bitter end. He approached the slowly coiled student and glared down at her with glowing green eyes and a fanged grimace. His alien four legs carried his diasapproving face closer. If she watched she would see the knots and bruises slowly healing themselves as she watched. Purple lumps fading and swelling reducing as his regeneration slowly happened.

His legs were unusual in that two faced forward like a normal humans while two starting from the same hip sockets bent backwards at the knees. His now flacid cock was hung between the front set of legs. His chiseled chest, arms and abs seemed normal if not for their massive size. The tentacles eminated from under his arms and seemed to be doing a thorough job of restraining the fiesty vixen for the moment. He contemplated his choices as he still recovered from her unorthodox self defense methods...

Kite's arms strain violently against his tentacles as they are pulled to her sides. Sure, the Houdini trick never actually works with living bonds, but that's never stopped her from trying before. Her wild surge of rage seems to subside, though the merest glance at her eyes would say even as her legs slow, it is merely the wildness that is subsiding, all the fury still boiling chaotically, her muscles writhing under her skin as she struggles to pull free, panting gasps hissing through clenched teeth.

She is unmoved by his musculature, the familiar abuse cannot truly be feared, not when one has accepted its inevitability in the hidden silence of the soul. But it can be hated.

Kite is not gracious in defeat. She does not truly, even now, admit defeat. Even as her body responds traitorously to the sensation of constriction, of containment, echoes of what could have been stirred by that which is instead as her knees quake, as her breathing deepens, shameful lust beginning to turn and coil within her...

The demon's tantalizing tentacles creep their way around her limbs. The tendrils coiling like a constrictor snake pinning her arms to her sides as the cock-tipped heads encircles her body, making her chest more prominent in the clearing. Her stocking legs kicking mightily against the soil and grass that made up her resting place. Her face was twisted with effort as air sucked in and out of the teeth guarding her airway. The demon enjoyed her feeble struggles and knew could she break free he would be in for one heck of a fight.

You are quite the fiesty little thing. What is your name?Slowly the beast walked towards her squirming form. Looking down at her, he awaited the answer as his tentacles coiled their way up from each ankle to her curved calves. The flesh sliding firmly over her leggings, the sensation barely dampened by the thin material. He kept the kicks and muscles churning, you fight the inevitable. You have lost. Submit to my will and we can both walk away from here sated. Continue to fight and I will still use you for my pleasure but the experience may be more traumatizing my dear...

At first, Kite does not answer, glaring hatefully as her body strains against the constriction. Her hands stiffen and twitch as the bloodflow in her arms is restricted by the crushing grip. But as he taunts her, she begins not to simper, but to laugh.

"You," and the word carries in her voice the depths of hate, "threaten -me- with -trauma-?! Will you next assault the tide with a bucket? Will you threaten the sky with a new cloud?" She spits derisively to one side, she'd like to get his facebut with her chest so squeezed she knows she hasn't the distance in her. "i am Kite, and though i have been sundered a thousand times, still i stand, and still i fight. Do your worst, creature. That i have fought enough you seek to bargain means i have already won all that there is for me to win."

The demon heard her boast and was intirgued. Such words spoke of a trauma unparalleled by much and one usually delivered over time. He eased the constriction around her chest slightly, the cock tips of the tendrils rubbing her nipples through the fabric while the ones wrapping her calves continued to climb her beauty stems in search of her flower's nectar. Currently though they were squirming over the leggings along her inner thighs. With a yank, and a push he forced her legs apart knees bent back towards her chest.

You speak with such vitriol and hatred at was has been done to you. The demon walked closer to his currently restrained prisoner and was intrigued. Such passion is rare in your kind. I must know what torment has made you so, Kite. Pleasure my ears with tales of torment and suffering, and perhaps I will leave you be this day. If you do not wish to sate my appetite with your story I will have to satisfy myself in other ways.

Kite's face twists into a sneer of contempt, trying to hide her noticing of his loosened grip of her chest, and with it, her arms. Trying to conceal the change of cadence of her struggles, from simply trying to pull and tear to trying to woggle loose but a single arm. She seems to ignore that her nipples reflexively swell beneath bra and blouse, her quickened breath as traitor lust surges.

"Gyahh!" His sudden shift tears forth an outcry of animal surprise as he yanks and shifts her body, her strength insufficient to do more than annoy, but she clings to it still, he's coiled her legs for her, let his grip slip for but an instant, and she'll give him a mulekick he won't soon forget, even as her thighs slicken with sweat beneath the leggings underneath his questing tendrils.

"You would have me choose to debase myself further for your amusement? Would you hear of being flogged with a whip made of a beloved's bones? Or hanging cruciform impaled on hooks so my blood could fuel her false resurrection? Or perhaps just cooking fat and urine commingled on an upturned face? No. You offer nothing of worth, and threaten nothing of meaning. Even if you let me go, how many hundreds like you must i avoid for another 50 hours. Just to make a new record?"

Breaking her for his amusement and hearing of her plights sounded intriguing to say the least. He walked closer as she spoke hatred and vitriole spitting from half clentched teeth. The word sounded half hollow but he listened rapt to hear about her suffering. Would she suffer the agonies of reliving her painful experiences or would she choose the agony of being his unwilling sex toy for awhile. He imagined the results, but wanted to know which way her psyche would aim.

Those would be the tales I desire to hear. Your experiences sound deliciously aweful and I could be sated on hearing of your torments... the demon said kneeling down on his four legs in front of her. With her legs pressed back, her short skirt was flipped up showing him the added panties. Reaching forward with his thumb, he pressed the digit into the soft material rubbing the outline of her lips. The material showing her body's almost forced response to being restrained in preparation of being used.

While I would delight in your stories of what you have experienced, should you wish to hide from that pain I understand. I would be delighted to find out what makes you such a wonderful target that 50 hours of repreive sets new records. The demon ends the last statement rubbing his thumb up and down his implication clear.

Derisive laughter is not the usual response to abject helplessness and being offered an out. But it is such peals of insane cackling that pours from Kite's lips as she lays in the dirt, her hips twitching, once, as his thumb threatens deeper presence. "Hide? No. Still you do not understand, demon. i abjure you. i despise you. The only things i will ever give your kind willingly are my violence, my fury, and my hate. Anything else you want, you have to take. Of course i know how rarely i can stop you, but i will fight forever. Any desire for which i can deny you fulfillment is my victory."

The demon listens to the vitriol coming from her lips. She wants to fight and not provide a source of his amusement so be it. Then your choice is made and I will be happy to take my pleasure then. While you refuse and claim a desire to avoid more unpleasantries you know why we are both here apparently, so you know what comes next.

With those words the thumb rubbing her delicate sex through her panties ends the pleasurable stimulation and he takes his claws and shreds the thin layer of material protecting her bounty from plundering. The panties give way and her exposure to the cooler air is completed.

Leaning forward he takes his hardened member and begins rubbing it up and down with one hand, pressing the fleshy tip against her opening. He knew there would be no begging, or pleading from this one so he sought to draw out the experience knowing she would be revolted and miserable until he had his fill. While her mind would rebel her body, like all the other students before her, would sing glorious praises to the pleasures and pains she was forced to endure.

Tearing away Kite's panties elicits no reaction, no spasm of fear or shame, no urge to cover herself for his unyielding grasp to thwart.

"My so called choice was made a long time ago." Kite's lips curl in disgust as his member touches her, breath hissing through clenched teeth as her muscles strain...she knows it to be futile. That he will not give her slack enough to strike until her body is too exhausted to use it. But futility has never stopped her before, nor the heat that rises in her traitorous flesh.

Choices are made every minute of every day. When you sacrifice you ability to decide, or refuse to make them them, you assume the mantle of slavery. Is that was you wish my pet, to become my slave... the demon asks the silly question with and evil lecherous grin.

Slimer can feel her struggling against her bonds. Good, he thinks, this fiesty mynx should be one exciting fuck. Ready to struggle until then end. He wonders how she will fare when she is incapable of struggle. Will that finally break her? He doubts it and without waiting any longer presses the aligned tip forward and begins sliding his hard demon length into her warm wet womanhood.

"You know why we are both here." Kite turns the demon's own words back at him, even as her sex squeezes his invading shaft in a mixture of conflicting spasms, the futile clench driven by her mind, even knowing spayed as she is her pelvic muscles stand no chance to bar his path, and the more animalistic shudder of a long-used snatch.

"i chose to fight, instead of any of the myriad options of surrender, and i will fight forever, even though they cut open my mind and turned fighting itself into part of their game." Kite's body bucks in the tentacled grip in which it is held, spasming within the confines of the arousal she cannot stop, but, for now, she keeps it from her voice, no whimper, no moan. "All we students are but puppets here, but i will always pull against my strings."

The demon chuckles as she throws the words back at him. So be it he thought, here was a student who no amount of pleading would escape. There was little point in helping her pretend this was something she wanted. There would be no deals and no games. This was going to rape as rape can only be defined. One party forcing sex on another party with no hint of acceptance.

The demon You are right. You will be my bitch for the day and I know you will fight with every last essence of you're being. I will take you as I please and make you incapable of more than receving what I decide to give you.

Her squeezing and resistance makes the entry tight, another challenge in taking her as his fucktoy, one challenge full of pleasure. With a forceful thrust, and her legs pushed back, the resistance is futile and he buries himself deep inside her core. He stares into her eyes watching to see if this rape breaks through what resistance her body is capable of. It was truely a wonder that after all she had been through she still fought and was not simply meat for the slave pits...

A strangled cry escapes Kite's lips as he drives mercilessly into her, her breathing haggard as her flesh's betrayal of her mind grows, "You promise to break me? To leave me spent and unmoving upon the soil? Big talk. You're going to try. Wouldn't be the first i outlasted. Won't be the last."

Kite squirms as she tries to pull away, her legs jerking as commingled lust and loathing make waiting for an opportunity impossible and in fury her legs strive to lash out, to achieve just one more vicious kick. "Bigger than you have tried, demon!" She screams her hate, "Bigger than you have died!" Her slurs devolve into insane cackling, the only comprehensible words the occasional repetition of "third stripe."

I plan to leave here spent. You I just plan on leaving helpless. Whether or not you give into the pleasure and pain as I fuck you in twisted way I can think of is irrelevant. I don't need my size to make you helpless as I have other means you shall discover. Whether you strive to fight or not, you will orgasm hard, and be mine over and over until I tire of your charms and leave you filled with my seed in every hole.

The demon taunted the poor girl as he remained hilted between her restrained legs. While looking into her demented cackling face he began to slowly pull back until her sweet sex barely held grip on his mushroom tip and slammed home.

The sex began with no faint relation to "making love" and frighteningly enough devolved from there. Like a slow piston he pulled back over and over driving himself home into her involuntarily lubricating womanhood as forcefully and slowly as possible.