As if he heard her thoughts (meaning, he did), a stinging slap, courtesy of one of Magadon's massive hands.

Who do you think you are, thinking about what 'I' can give you, slave? thundered the voice in her mind. And more importantly, who told you to stop?

Once more, the tendrils surrounded her, their light touches stinging her internally warmed skin, flicking her nipples, rear cheeks and womanly center. Though the voice sounded angry, Cassie could almost hear the aroused glee it took watching her tortured yet aroused form. Or maybe because she called it 'master'.

(Dang, it's kind of a challenge keeping up with you. Sorry if my posts seem so short by comparison. Though I believe we're at the best part. Thanks, Cassie. )

(you have me on a roll. It still takes a good 30-45 minutes to answer though. )

“ummpppfffhhh” the sound escaping me lips, head going sideways a bit as the blow lands upon me right cheek. I can feel the heat, the bites of a dozen horseflies in the slap. A ghostly voice whispering not in me ear but me mind. Not me voice but another. Rebuked it would seem an yet it makes no sense.

If he can read me thoughts then there is no need to speak. Still I have to wonder at the meaning, what I have done wrong as I once more slide me lips round the tip of him an play me tongue across his end. ‘Master, I only desired to know if you liked it…if it was to yur satisfaction, if you wanted me hands involved…I meant no disrespect.’ Easy to think, but not while I feel his warming shaft in me mouth, not while I think on what might please him…the things I can do. Not while I feel the flash of tentacles that flick there hard ends against me tender skin. One wonders if any of me thoughts can get through so garbled are theazy all.

I try an bring him pleasure an I get a painful lashing instead. A lashing that leaves welts upon me breasts, an the flicker of pain upon me nipples. Each flick upon me chest an me shoulders flinch forwards an me mouth tries to close me teeth upon his soft flesh. Sheer concentration furrows me forehead, tears of angst upon me face as I try an do good, confused as to what that may be. The punishment is like he tells me he is not happy with what I do do the shaft within me mouth.

A large hand takes the back of me head an winds itself in me hair. I take him all the way in fore he forces the issue. Thinking that maybe this is what he wants…fearful that I place me life in peril as the breathe cannot come like this an his hand may not let me back off. Is this how death intends to take me….my dying contortions bringing him to orgasm. A long suffocating death on me part. Oh god no…please no…..perhaps it was a stupid move…I will only now his intent by what he does with that hand next, an so I submit me entire will…me life into his hands, I can think of new better way to express the relationship I find me self in. My very life in the hands of me master.

Magadon's cloak of tendrils hauled her back to her knees easily, his length finding its way between her generous bosom. But even before he could get a spiteful thought in, her deliciously warm and wet mouth once more closed around him. Once again, his ire was forgotten as his arousal was in full control.

He began to understand how humans amassed fortunes and even created industries out of such acts and more, as evidenced by the panting female he had seduced. Even the non-human inhabitants of the island could appreciate the talents fear and lust a young woman could develop by virtue of coercion or practice. The undulating dance of shadows was Cassie's answer as his hand upon her head served as an anchor by which he plunged himself into and out of her mouth rhythmically.

The tendrils framed his reply, those twined around her breasts forming the suction cup-like growths with which to swallow her nipples as more twirled into the familiar cone tracing the swollen moist nub of her femininity. A smaller one also took shape, the blunt coiling appendages rubbing against the tight ring of muscle in Cassie's rear. Those not occupied with her most sensitive areas were massaging and roaming her bruised skin with a lover's care and precision, further improving upon the effects of the Nal's experimentation.

Is that enough reason to be a good little girl?

My master appreciated me. Gathering me up to me full height upon me knees he was able to use gods gift of me bosom in a new and delightful way. Had I not felt him tween me breasts earlier I might not have understood…an yet, a deep knowledge, buried perhaps in instinct told me he would enjoy this. An I too enjoyed the giving. The feeling of his member thrusting tween me heaving breasts, the tip of him sliding past me lips as his hand pushes me down upon him with each thrust. Guidance I may not need but gladly accept.

Me breasts jiggle, in his grip, a mouth descending upon each, sucking the hard tips with their golden decorations. Rings that seem to flutter in the mouths embrace, played with, an sending sensations of heat an pleasure deep into me gut. Me very center responding as blood rushes forth to great the rising touch upon me middle

More fingers, or tentacles caress me heated bum…one such sliding slowly down me crack, parting the flesh as me bum tenses in anticipation. So many points all clamber at once to play across me body I have no hop of keeping track. I have only to submit…to be used. To give pleasure. yet with so many points of attack it is difficult to divide me attention. I feel him in me middle an fail to suck with me lips. I feel him at me bum an fail to wiggle me hips….oh how can I be better…how does one do so for the pleasure of another?

Words upon me mind clatter gainst the back drop of pleasure…for a moment me own movement stops, me borw furrowed at what I here. I squint…not on a view but internally….Confused a bit at the words. Words I would not have used with hanaji..not in this manner. ‘Master. Am I not a good slave or am I a lowly girl? Which would you prefer…..’ I beg to be his slave….to not be that girl…that spitting fighting girl that would never sin like this…that would never find joy in another’s pleasure.

Don't let it confuse you, love... You're bo- The voice was cut off by a soundless scream that must have echoed throughout the dungeons.

With those words, both cones plunged inside her, sending him hurtling down a maelstrom of pleasure. It was as if he could feel what she was feeling, save amplified a thousand-fold. The ever-weaving tapestry of blackness shook and shuddered like a tempestuous ocean tide.

So tight... Came the lustful, sultry voice men often dreamed about. So wet... So warm...

Even with these alien emotions thrashing within his non-existent soul, he still kept enough mind to make her suffer too, purposefully teasing her, the tendrils pumping in and out almost hypnotically as he bucked his hips forward.

The threads of pleasure continued to weave the cocoon ‘bout me body. A cocoon of black an grays of the most exotic of silks. A cocoon that would take me the caterpillar an transform her to something so much better, so exquisite a creature that…..

I screamed; the horrible wonton sound of a stuck animal. The air bursting from me lungs in a cry that ‘gan in the very depths of me soul. The sound issuing forth from me lips and rending the air within the room by bringing red to the grey that swirls round me. Tempered in the flames of pain, wuz this what it took to make the butterfly? Only to be cut off with the plunging of his phallus deep into me mouth.

Pain takes me as twin spears pierce me as one. The one piercing the tight ring of muscle driving me forwards an up into the air. Had I known I might have relaxed. But the pain drives me tighter as muscles clench an twist round the invaders of me body. Tighter than ever I grasp him to me, even me throat an mouth close in what should have brought him pain itself.

I feel the tears, the ripping red of pain from me behind mostly, a pain of red hot coals that . yet it all fades as the pleasure builds. Recovering me body takes joy in his joy….a small part of me fearing he likes the pain he inflicts. Fearing I will enjoy it as well jus ‘cause it gives him such pleasure. I feel me wings, though not ready…no not yet ready to burst forth unto the world.

The growing orgasm builds…builds till it threatens to wash o’er me an he stops. He stops the thrusting, leaves himself at me gates while I cool an frustration mounts. O’er an O’er it happens. I double me efforts with the digit with in me mouth hoping that the enjoyment he derives from me mouth will prompt him to let me go…to take me o’er the edge.

Already I slip him deep within me, holding him in place till me own throat bucks about him. Gasping round the thickness of him for air I circle me tongue about his tip, teasing it, lips closing once more to suck an milk him…then I plunge me head back upon his sword, feeling him go deep…feeling the risign tide of angst an frustration that I both fail to force his seed…an fail to receive the pleasure form me own trembling belly.

if only....if only i can manage I feel the impending transformoation of meself ready to imerge from this coccon.

By now, Magadon had retrieved a semblance of control as he bucked in and out of Cassie's mouth, surrounded by her breasts. His tendrils, conversely, became even more frenzied in their ministrations, further fanning the flames he had lit within her mind and body.

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, bringing it up to his mask and letting the dripping dreamstuff forming at the bottom of his mask taste the salinity. It tasted of her fear and her lust and of her want, a delightful cocktail to one such as he.

The ooze came to life as it sobbered over the digit, absorbing the moisture greedily. Without saying so, she could tell he pleased her. The twin cones gave her time to relax, to get used to himself before thrusting in and out methodically.

She could feel him slowly drip his essence down her throat, his otherworldly scent and taste stronger within her mouth.

All for me master. It wuz as if he sensed it. A shifting in rhythm an force. The is pain gone. His thrusts taking me in ways that bring fire into me loins an left me painting in pleasure round the thick member in me throat. He slowed enough so I could breathe an regain me strength. In return I gave that strength right back to him.

An now I no longer jus received him, I took him as well. Moving me hips. Wiggling me tongue upon the velvet surface. Hands coming up to help as I touch the blankness an run me hands through it. tasting the first of me rewards, the strange sweetness that dribbles form his member to sooth me aching throat. An aroma, heady an strong, that swirls from beneath me noise an fills the air about me head with the fragrance of life itself.

I feel me body adjusting. Squeezing at the right times. The pain gone, only a flood of pleasure is left. Behind me closed eyelids swirls the reds an oranges of heat an fire. Quickly I come to the edge, a look at the abyss, uncertain in a time of no instruction.

I bring me mouth off from his shaft, using me hands to pump upon the big bad boy. “master….may….may I cum?” Oh god what if he says no? The mention of the words quicken me insides even more so. I bite me quivering lower lip, can feel me legs tighten as he continues to plump me very depths….can feel the chrysalis of me cocoon beginning to crack….an I know….know that if I go ‘o’er that abyss I may not recognize me self in the mirror….nor may he….a bit of fear of that vast unknown swirling in the tapestry of lust that weaves its way through me emotions.

The only reply to that came from the sudden tensing of the center of the darkness. The way she gripped him and the way she looked up at him was more than he could take. To add to it all, her emotions were a whirling feast, transporting him to delights a human may have tried to describe as heavenly but failed, so wondrous was the sensation.

Screaming in the soundless language of the Nal'senshi, he gave himself to release, his neck arching back to howl in soundless joy, the witch-light eyes narrowed as the tendrils went wild.

His hands gripped her head, as if she was the only anchor as if he careened off the edge on a wild rocket. From the tip, a torrent of that honey-sweet essence flooded forth, staining Cassie's face, breasts and bangs as his length was wracked by intense throbbing, his wraith-like form shuddering in terrible bliss.

Death screams, an his shaft pulses in me hands as I rub him. Before I can react, before I can move him to me mouth his seed falls upon me. Instinctively I close me eyes, feeling the warm sticky fluid hit me face, cover me eyelids an drip upon me heaving breasts. Jus me masters release. Jus the fact he finds pleasure from me body is enough to light the bonfire within.

“MASTER..” I scream, the cocoon shattering as me wings unfurl an a lift off. My song joins his in chorus, matching the tempo, the key of his voice in a harmony of joy an pleasure. Lust releases itself within, me body tightens an then releases itself to me masters thrusts…me masters touches.

The shaft forgotten as wave after wave crashes o’er me, the tentacles still active on me body, still eliciting a reaction from me. An I give it, moving under his touch, skin so sensitive it burns in desire. Time Is lost, having no meaning in this state. A state of swirling desire an pleasure. A state of touch an feelings, me body cavorting on its own as the sweat drips from me to mix with his cum.

At long last enough sense returns to place me trembling lips upon his tip, to swirl me tongue across him, cleaning the organ of me desires of its cum. At that moment I collapse backwards in the sea of wriggling darkness…darkness that caresses me body as I touch me self as well. Gathering up the sweet nectar of death an liking it off me fingers…o’er an o’er again till me tummy quiets…an me legs no longer tremble in fatigue….I have feed, but the ardor remains no less intense.

I float upon me wings, hovering at me master’s flower, the place of heavenly rewards.

“Master…oh master…what would you have this slave do. “

Since his climax, Magadon had been a statue, the only moving part of him his twitching length as Cassie's tongue expertly cleaned him off. Even the fell glow emanating from his eyes dimmed, casting the room into near absolute darkness.

Your hands.

The light returned, burning within the empty sockets as the curtain of shadows began to whisper and dance anew. His massive hands reached down and squeezed her breasts, making her pierced nipples jut. Even after the climax, he was still awake as his mind swam in ecstasy.

Use your hands... Get me hard again, would you, love?

She could her the subtle menace in the soft voice.

I sit before him…waiting the shaft before me mouth, drooping, hanging at half mast, a faint gray in a sea of black. Has death himself died? The light seeming to have left his eyes.

A faint voice troubles me mind, a whisper from the very abyss. If echoes as if from so far away. I respond as directed, both hands upon the slack pole to me front, caressing the gray of night. Feeling the sack of balls with warm soft fingertips. Me other had takes the head of him an places a finger across its surface. A stirring, like life returning from so far away. A stirring that excites me, that shows the master can find favor in his slave…that even a slave can bring life to a master an there for has value in what she can provide.

The voice is closer, more awake, a dripping of harm, perhaps threat. I redouble me efforts, working to make me master hard again, a small bit of fear in me heart. But I will not fail, it is not in me to. I am here for him…here to give him the ability to live life through me.

‘Ohhhh death, what have you missed….what have you missed the most an I shall provide it to you if it is in me grasp to do so?’

The way she referred to him as the personification of any human's final end was beginning to tire Magadon greatly. But then, Cassie's performance was 'beyond exemplary' that he really payed it no mind.

The soft menace wound its way around Cassie's mind as the shadows wound about her heaving form. Without warning and with all the slow menace of a waking rattler, she found herself face to face with the porcelain death mask, black mud-like liquid dripping from the teeth.

The ooze formed another copy of the cones still inside her, albeit thinner like a lizard's tail. The limb licked and flicked Cassie's full lips. taking in the sweet salinity.

You're not doing it hard enough, love...

Once more, she felt the sudden lashes of his insatiable desire, tensing to rain down upon her.

Deaths own mask swung before me face, a face with cruel eyes an black drool. A face that brought terror as me fingers slide along his thick swollen member. Terror swelled within, the terror of me death when all I wanted wuz to live. An in his ability to give life or death he wuzs me indisputable master. The master of whether I returned to earth, or was cast through the gates of hell itself.

Tensing me fingers I stroked him. Rotating me hand along his spit slickened surface. I Stroking harder, faster, me arm aching with the exertions as I feel the bit of the whip across me naked flesh. Pain an terror spur me on to do what he wishes.

Staring down the very barrel of a gun. A gun that could go off at any time, me face before its very tip. I feel dirty from the previous spray of his seed upon me. Is this what he enjoys, humiliation, degradation, fear an terror. Is that not deaths way?

“Master, do you wish to … be in me?” I stroke harder, the whip cracks upon me nipple. A sharp bite of pain even as he shafts me insides…filling me. Once More I feel him…once more he takes me. Pain…Pain an pleasure confusing me mind as to which I want more. An which I am more ready to give him.

Quickly I switch hands, me wrist almost numb, fingers tingling as I continue now afresh. Gripping him I slide me hands back an forth, feeling his skin stretch an slide. Feeling the throbbing of blood, the warmth of life an friction. All the way I rub him, from the bulbous head to the base of his shaft…then changing the motions, gripping the head an rubbing jus it…then back…the whole shaft. Rotating me hand to bring me grip to every inch of the wide shaft. A shaft I cannot hold tween me fingers an thumb.

Let me please him…please lord…let me please him.

He could feel her apprehension and only smirk. The only thing more delightful to a Nal than fear would be that which causes it; doubt and it's cousin anxiety. Like a candle snuffed, the tendrils ceased in their actions, even the ones still inside her.

Have you ever wondered why God gave you such a figure, love?

Oh, how Magadon, of all Savants, loved using one's strengths against them. To tread the path of the cunningly brutal, that was his greatest joy. Especially when it pleases him. Even now, thanks to her ministrations, he was almost ready for more.