Two days. Bria had to think about this and she wasted most of the first day pondering how to brooch the matter. As she considered she nearly lost her opportunity as Daphnee passes. They did not share any classes together and this had been the last one of the day so if she failed to approach Daphnee now she'd be cutting it close.

“Daphnee? Got a second?”

She noted that the girl looked around first as if checking to make sure Bria was speaking to her. She had wondered if this had something to do with Wraith when they were attacked together. Neither said anything about it and Daphnee hoped that the bi-curious girl didn't have a crush on her. Only Vera was allowed to do stuff to her and that was do to an arrangement they made in their first semester. It wasn't as if she didn't think Bria was cute but she wasn't into girls at all.

“Yeah, sure, what's up?”

“I got to show you something I discovered while taking a walk. Wanna check it out?”

Not really but she bit. “What is it?”

Bria paused and smiled. “Uh uh. If you want to see them you'll have to come. Say three o'clock we can met up and go there.”

Daphnee shook her head. “Today's no good, I got to work on my ventriloquism. Day after tomorrow good?”

Bria shook her head and clasped her hands together. “Could you do it tomorrow? The rest o my week is hell. Please.”

What the hell was this? “Fine. I'll rearrange a few things. Tomorrow then.”

“Where is it? What is it?” Daphnee asks as Bria grabs her by the waist to try to plant a kiss on her but Daphnee steps back. “Whoa! Wraith had me possessed that one time, I'm not into girls.”

High overhead Marlin hovered, bathed in the sunlight above the atmosphere. The latest shuttle had borne interesting news about a local ADD agent investigation, but it would be too long a shot for Marlin; he was unsure of his capacity to subdue an elite agent as of yet, and surprise, even with his speed, was not guaranteed. For now he would continue his predations over the students, and gather his strength. Staying out of the limelight was his best option.

A resonance alerted him to the agreed upon time, and he focused the eye downwards upon the ground, where the sibiliant hiss of brain activity led him to Bria's location - she had preformed as requested, as another young girl was following her outside, hands clasped awkwardly. One seemed to be dodging the other. Curious.

A bargain, even with a fleshling, was a bargain. Marlin would release Bria; her peer would not have such luck.

He began to descend, slipping between the breaths of air disjointedly, like spilt oil, as he fell towards his target, faux-wings spreading to bank his fall and make off with the still-nameless victim.

“I'm sorry!” Bria's cheeks flamed red and Daphnee thought it was embarrassment over the situation and not what the girl had set into motion. “I didn't mean to!”

“It's OK, Bria. Really.” Daphnee tossed up her hands and shook her head. “There's no need to apologize and it's not as if we got to talking about what happened last -”

She saw it then, something in the air. Even now she remained vigilant seeing how these things usually snuck up on her and restrained her in some fashion. She saw Marlin and while she was not aware of what it was she was too paranoid to sit back to find out.

“RUN!”

She bushes Bria towards the trees and runs for cover herself.

Marlin swooped past Bria - for a moment, the frozen image of the her own impersonated face, staring back at her, eyes blank and empty in the side of the great gelatinous mass - and then was gone back up through the trees, wings stiff and unmoving as the air courses by underneath them, unable to touch the feathers through their film. Daphne dangles from one tremendous claw thicker than her own body, bands of the mercury-stuff wound about her stomach. It all passes in a breath of air and a moment.

All is silent.

[align=center]~*~[align=center]

The avian form ascends skyward now, its prize dangling from a talon. A good strike, Marlin thinks, and glances downward at the schoolgirl curiously. She is built similarly to Bria, though her outfit is more precarious, and will fall easily enough. He needs altitude first, however, and continues to climb, as the claws slowly retract within the main slime-mass, dragging Daphnee into the protoplasmic lake.

Damn! Another evening spent being one of these things playthings. She is unaware that she's been set up, even if Bria really didn't want to do this.

Daphnee finds herself in the protoplasm. She can still move but escape is nil at this point for really all that would entail would be a descent to her death. She does not scream though this is the first avian she deals with and it at least does not introduce itself or gloat how it was going to do such and such to his latest slut. The act was getting stale.

Oh, her heart hammers in her chest but her green eyes sweep over this one.

Some kind of flying slime? That definitely was new. She sighed after a moment, the earth well beneath them at this stage escape seemed impossible unless she sprouted wings in the next five minutes.

Her eyes sweep it studying it's composition as best as she could. These things could not kill her so she told herself that things could get sticky but not that sticky.

“You might as well begin,” an annoyed Daphnee states.

For a split-second, Marlin almost approves of the girl; pragmatism is a refreshing change. To business, then.

The slime slides easily through the gaps in her clothes, up her legs and down her shirt, suspending her in a warm, slick vat, as the sensory fibers creep from the silvery depths to inspect pale flesh. They flow about her fingers and toes, up her calves and forearms; reed-thin, they whisper on skin with their fragile stems. A thick trunk of them slides up the back of her legs, joining together inside her skirt, and protruding up over the small of her back on the path of her spine. It grasps lightly at Daphne's backbone and ripples against it.

The wavelike motion, combined with the slick, film-filled vat works the girl's shirt up around her shoulders with terrible ease, and Marlin plucks it away with an offhand psuedopod. Then, the fiberspine reverses its waving motion, and begins to peel off her skirt in the same fashion.

It began by taking it's time, warm liquid doming together in such a way that the warmth of the liquid felt pleasant against her skin. She moaned out, softly as the green emerald eyes shut and her hands ball up into fists as she attempts to hold back from making any sorts of sounds whether pleasure or pain.

It tugged, buttons coming loose on her shirt, the fabric not holding up so well she helps with the skirt, not out of any desire to press on here but because she's being pragmatic about things and didn't want to walk back to her dorm naked.

Whether or not she waits for her is another matter though and if he were eager well there would go her loth3w, no5hint n32 5h343 she just had to see to the matter.


Her shoes and socks remained as did her leather wrist guards that hide the scars on her wrists though neither of these things would be necessary for him to get rid of.


She knew it was coming so there was little need to be without clothes at the end of it. Now what it would do was totally unknown.

Indeed, this is a human whose sense is of acceptable parameters. Marlin allows the girl her freedom to undress, the slime growing loose about her as she does so; it becomes a perfectly buoyant fluid holding her aloft, her clothes slowly migrating in a current to a lower corner of the slime.

The spinal tendril on Daphne's back trembles and then extends upward, creeping up the back of her neck, and then blossoms. Petals extend outward and cup her chin, surround her head, as an enormous flower sets itself on her nape. The gossamer stamen caress her neck and drape down over her collarbone; the ends, tipped with grasping suckers, nibble downwards, leaving tiny, swollen patches where the suction and exploratory tongue within has reddened the flesh with attention. The trail extends over her stomach and up between her breasts, gradually circling her chest.

Meanwhile, another flower comes to fruit between Daphne's legs, extending a long tongue that runs once over the entire length of her sex in a single lap, then parts the folds with only its tip and begins to lave the interior gently.

This was different … and unexpected too as those tendrils blossom. She had been expecting pain of some sort and while there's still plenty of time she feels the tongues sweeping against her flesh. But she was never good at holding back her own sounds of enjoyment, this being her first real test since making that promise to herself … well that promise was not to beg, it did little good though she had tried to extend to that in showing any sorts of encouragement …

“Ohhhhhh ...” She fails in holding back though the sound is incredible soft at this stage, her chest heaving, her passage responding more to the pleasure than pain her passage begins to tingle with the anticipation of desire. It was no use, she could not hold back her own pleasure it seemed for it did not happen all to often.

Marlin cares nothing for her cries of pleasure - either their existence, or their absence. They are, at most, a crude mark of progress, a percentage indicator.

The flower between Daphne's knees presses closer, the wet tongue licking within her a few times before it draws back into the bulb. Then the blossom presses fully against her nether lips and gently adheres to them, spreading wide the entrance to her core. When the tongue dips in again it begins to slowly circle within the girl's folds, stirring them wetly.

The other flower, behind her head, mimics the process; gradually it closes about the back of her head, like some obscene hairnet, as in the darkness wet, exploring feelers creep on her neck and about her ears. The petals glow as they begin the scanning process, synchronizing a part of the monster's neural net with Daphne's own - Marlin releases a pleased hum as the flow of information satiates one of his immediate needs.

One of the suckers kisses its way up Daphnee's neck again, leaving more swollen hickeys, before it nudges between her lips and seals about her tongue, nudging and suckling.

She tries to hold back but pleasure is sort of a new thing. Sure enough her Mistress brings it to her and Kakumoah as did Wraith in a perverse way but other than that it's been torture, torture and more torture. She hated it of course but there was nothing that she could do about it.

But her whimpers grow stronger at the administration of her tongue, her body getting nice and wet though she had been partially trained at this point. She had been made to endure pleasure for hours on end and he would find that he was capable of getting her wet for quit a while if that was his desire.

She might cum quickly but she could endure a lot as evident by the fact that she was so tortured but kept bouncing back.

Her head had been folded up by this flower-like thing, she squirms unable to thwart the pleasure shooting through her at that very moment. “OHHH!”

The blossom grasping Daphnee's head creeps further, and the edge of the bloom finally drops over her eyes, sheathing her in billowing darkness. Her cries are soundless; her tongue, bound and wrapped with writhing tentacle, has no way to make coherent sound. The blackness and improvised gag isolate her from the world and in one made of but touch and appetite.

The wet tongue buried in her sex dips once more deeply into her folds, before it ripples and begins to thicken into a familar shape, a fat, flared rod that drags against sensitive flesh as it withdraws with careful grace, until the wide head rests braced at her parted, soaked lips; then it slides forward, truly penetrating Daphnee. The blossom that bears it begins to slowly undulate, working the heavy length in and out of her core with deliberate strokes, each one driving upward before it arcs down to withdraw.

Idly, Marlin directs the idle sucker which had been floating pointlessly, towards a hardened nipple. It nuzzles against the pink peak before fastening about it; the false lips draw hard upon it, mimicking suction, before laving the tip with the tongue concealed within.

While she fears being restrained with a passion this is somewhat different. She can move to an extend but happens to be confined too so that immediate panic does not set in. Her senses are stolen from her though as darkness over takes her vision. She gasps, the sound muffled against the intrusion against her tongue but Marlin finds that she does not resist, not this anyway as he moves against her nether lips her own desires blossom, the sensations of pleasure tingle against her, through her as her sightless green eyes press closed.

She has no inkling what he is doing though it feels good … she trembles in that mass of syrup. Oh, so warm, so intense, she shudders as she floats there. “OH GAWD ...” the sound muffled against the intrusion of her mouth. She was not expecting this and thus caves a bit faster not building up any sort of resistance it is clear that she basks in this attention as her nipple is focused on she whimpers anew, heat sweeping through her tight chamber as stirred by his attentions, the blood pounding against her own arousal, her mind reeling against the sensations.

Marlin pores over the data he is recieving from his ongoing scan, and with a moment's concentration, readies his biomass for the complex procedure necessary to withdraw an egg cell. Still full from the last, he is unsure of what exactly will happen when he retrieves the next; as far as he knows, no Navim has practiced egg removal, and the combined codes of genetic material are volatile in their ability to alter their unusual biology. He supposes he will find out soon.

The flower between her legs extends petals, which push Daphnee's legs open wide, her knees rising level with her shoulders. Then, its counterpart gently lowers long stamen that wrap about and until her knees, locking her legs open and wide for the thick rod that continues to steadily fuck her, sliding between her legs at an implacable, invariable rate. The new angle allows it to reach deeper and higher in her folds, violating the girl even more deeply than before. Meanwhile, a tiny portion of the underblossom opens on the surface of the petals, then drifts closed about her clit, kneading it with firm leaves that entrap the little pearl.

Left aloft, pinned wide, and exploited ruthlessly; Marlin feels satisfied with himself.