(OOC: No worries, this week has been super busy for me too.)

Even though the Faerie is giving them everything she has, the lizardmen still seemed determined to take from her. They grab and grope her body, forcing her head around and squeezing her tits roughly. Their hips thrust forcefully into her mouth and against her cleavage, still ravaging her body.

Suddenly, there are hands on her thighs. She can't see what they look like, or who they belong to, thanks to the lizard sitting astride her chest. All she knows is that, in seconds, a new cock is shoving its way into her pussy. Her new mystery rapist starts to slam into her, giving her no quarter.

When the lizardmen first assaulted her, Lorielle had thought that she might be able to outlast the guards - and that this could be an opportunity to escape for her. Such thoughts quickly evaporated as the creatures raped her to orgasm after orgasm, each of them already cumming once and still as hard and ready as ever.

Things get even worse for the Faerie as a third rapist joins the assault on the hyper-aroused Faerie. She screams as the new alien assaults her - this cock long, smooth and warm, compared to the thicker, cooler shafts of the lizards. The contrast is too much for Lorielle's mind - her last thought is to wonder if there are MORE rapists on the way, or even already waiting where she can't see.

And then everything turns into an explosion of light as her mind shuts down with the violent tidal wave of an orgasm that assaults her. Her neck arches and her song cuts off turning into a muffled scream even as the new position allows the cock in her mouth to drive deeper into her throat, while arching her breasts up to the lizard tit-fucking her. Her pussy is gushing wildly with each stroke of the new rapist, as her pussy convulses and squeezes wildly, milking every bit of pleasure from the new cock that her body can get.

Even with Lorielle's mind gone for the moment, her body is on auto-pilot, responding eagerly to everything the aliens do to her with no sign of stopping. In fact her body will keep fucking and orgasming for them as long as they continue to rape her.

None of her assailants can tell if she really perceives the brutal fucking they're putting her through. They don't know if she feels the hands that grab her wrists, forcing her hands onto even more cocks as more aliens came to join in the fray. A dozen of the crew had gathered around soon, and her holes were under constant assault as men pushed each other off of her to get a turn. Those that couldn't get inside her settled for her soft body, humping her tits, hands, feet - any inch of her flesh they could lay their cocks on. Fortunately, several of the ship's female crew had been equally aroused by her rape and her song, and helped relieve some of the men around her. It did little to stem the tide of cocks eager to rape the poor Faerie, though. For hours, she was fucked senseless on the floor, as men came in and on her.

Even with her mind shut down, Lorielle's body instinctively reacts to and submits to the brutal rape. She fucks back wildly against each and every cock, writhing between the men, sucking on them, stroking them with hands and feet, thrusting her hips and ass up into them. Even as they force two or even three cocks into her holes at once, it seems like her body is being conditioned to accept this -- to accept, even desire, this powerful brutal fucking... to desire many males to fuck her at once.. for her body to be stretched out and forced to cum again and again. Even the sensation of all of those eyes watching her, lusting for her seem to start feeding a growing addiction inside the unconscious faerie.

As hours go on and on, and cock after cock fucks her, cums in and on her - her mind will slowly drift in and out of presence within her. Each time Lorielle 'awakens', her mind gets just that much more pleasure as she climaxes non-stop for the crew. Already this extremely high state of arousal and pleasure is becoming the 'norm' for the Faerie - her already sensitive body being brought to a state of hyper arousal and sensitivity that is slowly becoming her "normal" state.

And the longer this goes on, and the more often it happens - the more her body will crave these pleasures.

Her brutal, ceaseless gang rape goes on for hours. Word spreads through the ship, and more and more crew come to fuck her. Some cum inside her and depart for a while, only to return and spend another load on her. Others stay until they pass out pleasuring themselves with her body. Cum from three dozen different races coat her, inside and out, and her every hole is stretched to its absolute limit. On and on, the faint whispers of her song propel the men to use her even more completely and remorselessly.

At long last, the crowd disperses, and Lorielle is left, used and violated completely. The two lizard guards who first took her are among the last fucking her now. As they both grunt and cum one last time, they stand. Finally, her body is voided of cockmeat. Grunting in satisfaction, they grab her wrists and begin to drag her down the hall.

Lorielle has no idea how long this brutal use went on for -- it could have been hours, it could have been days for all she knows.

All she does know is that when she wakes, her body is sore all over - not just her ass and pussy, but her arms, her wings, even her throat is worn down from the near constant song that had been ripped from her again and again.

She struggles, almost drunkenly, to focus and make sense of where she is.

When Lorielle awakes, she's back in the cage she was dragged in, in the dark, quiet brig of the ship. Shackles are around her wrists, binding her to the floor, and her mouth is gagged once more. A lingering dampness tells her that she must have been washed while she was unconscious, so at least the fluids that once caked her are gone.

There are other girls with her in the cage, all as bound and naked as she is. They regard her with muted interest as she stirs. A girl with vulpine features seems disgusted at her presence. Another girl, with green skin and hair, eyes her piteously. But none of them move to help her or speak to her.

Lorielle sighs as she looks at the other slaves -- there is no help for her there. She gives a glare back to the vulpine female, but the other woman's disdain is not relevant, and certainly not helpful to her at the moment.

She knows that with a little rest, escape would be easy -- her strength at tessers is enough that she could reach safety in an untraceable manner were she fully rested. However it seems unlikely that she is going to be allowed that kind of recovery.

Even if she were - there is the small matter of her dart throwers which are still in Racio's office. There is no way she would leave such valuable tech and her preferred weapons in that monster's hands. She is just happy that he does not seem to understand the value of the technology in those weapons - at least not yet.

Unable to flee to safety, and unwilling to make a lesser escape without her weapons and knowing where she is - the Faerie is left with no options for now. All she can do is wait, try to recover energy and strength, and look for an opportunity to make her move later. Given the guards (and most of the male crew's) interest in her - she knows that an opportunity WILL come . Given how just the thought of their interest though starts a heat growing in her womb, the question is if she will be in any state to be able to take advantage of it when it comes.

The other slaves' interest in Lorielle seems to fade as fast as hers does in them. One by one, they look away or to the floor, apathy and despair clinging to their auras. Most seem to have resigned themselves to their current fates, and the few that haven't only suffer more heartache for it.

Then, there's another presence in the room, but its nowhere to be seen. No one else reacts, or even shifts, but Lorielle can feel it. It's as if someone is standing just over her shoulder, though there's no one there. Somehow, it's like she can feel it walking through her mind. It grows stronger by the second, until it starts to feel oppressive, like a pressure bearing down on her back.

"I. See," a voice suddenly says. It's deep and gravely, and echoes from everywhere at once. But yet again, no one responds to the words she can so clearly hear. "You. Are. A. Horny. Slut." The voice taunts her, dripping with malicious delight. "But. You. Are. Powerful. Too."

It is only after Lorielle has dismissed her fellow prisoners that she becomes aware of something else there. She can feel it.. knows it down to the core of her being, even if she can't see it. Where many species might dismiss the feeling as fear or superstition or just a 'draft' - as a Star Faerie, Lorielle has learned to rely on her instincts. If she senses something - she fully believes there to be a presence in the room that she can't see.

As the pressure grows more and more, Lorielle starts shaking her head, and tries to stop it by attempting to cover her head, even though she knows that won't stop something that can force it's way into her mind like this.

"I ... am... NOT... a ... SLUT!" she screams in defiance at the voice. Sure she is a hedonist - all faeries are. And yes, Lorielle is even more highly sexual than most of her species - but to her mind, that is not the same as being a slut.

Still if the presence can search her memories, most species would definitely call Lorielle a 'horny slut' -- Lorielle has willfully enjoyed more than a few gangbangs, has had sex with dozens of different species, and rarely goes for more than a day or two without sex - even if it's alone. She enjoys having eyes on her, enjoys people desiring her, wanting her - it gives her a thrill and arouses her greatly. To her mind, that's a win for everyone.

As she begins to bend over and grab her head, the other women look at her. But rather than looking with concern, confusion, or disgust, as one might normally regard a person holding their head and shaking, their eyes go wide. When she screams, they cower away, and many of them begin to whimper, "No... no..."

The voice seems uninterested in their reactions, and undeterred by her defiance. It doesn't have to search her deep memories to see her eagerness for sex. The past few hours were more than enough. But it isn't just her past behavior that motivates this presence.

"All. Women. Are. Sluts," the voice insists, droning in its slow, monotonous tenor. "I. Will. Show. You."

Suddenly, the vulpine girl's eyes go wide, and she, too, grabs her head. "No! No, not again!" she screams, tears running from her eyes as they start to roll back in her head. The other girls back away from her, as if trying to get away from whatever's happening to her. A blush coats he cheeks, and Lorielle can see her nipples start to harden.

(sorry for the absence - see my post in leaves and returns if you want all the details)

Lorielle doesn't really take note of the other prisoner's reactions to her scream - still trying to get rid of the voice in her head. "We are not sluts! I am not.. a slut!" she protests again to the voice.

At first she doesn't notice the reaction of the vixen-woman even when she screams. It is only when the other prisoners move away as much as the cell and restraints allow. She looks up to study the fox-woman, and her reaction is unmistakable. "What are you doing to her? Stop it! Leave us alone!" she yells again, but most likely in futility.

The girl's cries slowly turn to whimpers, and then finally to moans. Her eyes begin to lose focus, as her hips gyrate subtly, as if beyond her control. They begin to shift, as if she's riding something beneath her. Slowly, her hand comes up to cup her breast, then squeeze it. Her eyes are still wide, but her gaze is distant, as if she's seeing something very far away from herself. Her moans increase as her other hand moves up her thigh, finally trailing to her crotch. She moans louder as she begins to stroke her pussy lips.

"Look. How. She. Reacts," the voice says, "From. Just. The. Thought. Of. Being. Fucked."

As the girl's moans grow louder, others begin to cry out. Some scream for mercy, seeming to try and resist whatever's happening to them. Others simply lie down, whimpering as they accept what's happening to them.

The reactions of the fox-girl, and the other prisoners - only fuel Lorielle's anger.

"I don't know exactly what you are doing to her. BUT STOP IT! This isn't her.. this is YOU.. you're the one making her body do this. That isn't being a slut! All races have bodies that can feel pleasure - forcing someone to feel pleasure IS not the same as being a SLUT. That's like saying just because you are able to feel pain, you're a masochist. It's instinctual.. biology! Leave her alone, DAMN IT!"

The girl's indignation seems to amuse the voice. A sound echoes in her head - not exactly laughter, but something to the same effect. "Beings. Avoid. Pain," it says. "But. They. Long. For. This. Pleasure." All around her, the women are starting to give in to whatever is happening to them. They lie on their backs or their sides, some whimpering, others moaning, a few still begging for mercy. They run their hands over their bodies, though a number reach straight for their slits, starting to finger themselves.

"Let. Me. Show. You."

Suddenly, Lorielle's vision goes black. All she can see is her own body. After a moment, she's suddenly lying on a bed of thick, firm tentacles. The tendrils wrap around her arms, legs, and waist, securing her. Then, some coil around her breasts, starting to squeeze.