The Vaid Empire

Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentacles

Chapter 1

Unknown Date.

Unknown Location.

“Creation is a necessary agony.”

The living walls of Synaalag’s prison reacted to each of his squirming movements, hearing his mother’s muffled giggles.

“The Red Vessel, the first. The Silver Womb, the last. An artist emerges, a creation made a God.”

12th of Onis, 768 BVE.

First Continent, Deep Jungle.

Step after step after step, ever dreading the end of their journey. The oppressively thick humidity sent water trickling down Aifa‘s red skin as the group cut through the jungle. If her hands weren’t tied behind her back, she would’ve hacked the guards down with their own blades long ago.

It’d be a simple thing to slip away into the dense vegetation, yet her tight collar removed any hope of that. Instead, she was forced to trudge along in a strict line with her fellow captives, gagged, with a rope linking collar to collar.

One of six women, the others appeared much like her. Their red skin glistened in the sunlight pouring through the vibrant orange leaves, though truthfully, she knew very little about any of them. She scolded herself for falling in with their tribe no more than a moon ago, for she should’ve known their capture was inevitable. Never would she repeat that mistake. Better to hunt alone than to die together.

Turning her head, she received a smirk from the guard to her right, making no attempt to conceal his glances. Unease seeped into her as he studied her body, as bare as his own. Like all members of her species, a Cavari, his eyes were a single color, as if solid orbs, matching the deep bioluminescent blue that accented their bodies. Thin blue claws, faintly glowing blue tongues and sexual organs, only their white hair provided a different shade, itself tipped with natural blue highlights. She scowled at the man as his thin tail swayed with excitement. The rope digging into her wrists and forearms reminded her of her place, restraining her rage.

“Ah, this one has fire in her eyes,” the guard said, stepping closer. “Let’s hope she isn’t chosen, for it’d be a shame to see an end to such…passion.”

She winced as he lightly tugged on one of the small bronze rings piercing her blue nipples, flaring her fury further. “Cut me loose, and we’ll see if you dare touch me again,” she thought to herself.

“Silence,” the man at the head of the group commanded, evidently the leader of the raiding party. “Save your words for when we’re safe behind walls, else you’ll be replaced before the next excursion.”

The other guards appeared fully alert, their bristled antennae twitching at every sound and scent. Never did they utter a word, their spears and swords ready to strike whatever fowl creatures sprang forth from the vibrantly colored vegetation. Twice a guard had fallen prey to an attack, snatched away into the overgrown jungle. Their screams echoed into the distance, lost forever.

Hardly an hour seemed to go by without some beast trying their luck upon the group. Aifa had nearly grown eager for each ambush, hoping one of the abominations would tear through the guards and allow her to escape.

The women had all heard whispers of what may await them, of course. After all, what free tribe didn’t occasionally hear tales of the great holy city deep in the jungle? Or worse yet, the terrible creature that lurked below? Aifa shuttered with a chill despite the heat.

A tug of the collar at her neck made her red cheeks darken further as someone stumbled, pulling the rope. She felt her rage rising, bound like an animal.

As the minutes passed, she found herself glancing down. The woman in front of her walked with swaying hips, drawing her attention to her rump. That had been one of the few benefits of joining a tribe. What had this particular woman’s name been? She couldn’t quite remember. They had spent a night or two together, but then, hadn’t they all? 

Her hopes were dashed each time the guards cut down a monstrous predator or avoided the grasp of plants whose beautiful colors were merely a lure. The jungle flared an instinct to hide and find shelter from the beasts, yet every step she took, a far deeper fear slowly crept into the pit of her stomach. They approached their doom.

Finally, when the captives were splattered in mud and the guards were drenched in blood of various shades, they emerged from the thick tree line. The vegetation fell away, and beyond lay the source of her misgivings.

Eyes opening wide in awe, Aifa looked upon their destination. A wall of black stone towered before them, overgrown in vines of blue and orange. The guards urged them forwards, their leader granting a signal to the men atop the wall. The gate began to open, its massive hinges squeaking as it swung to consume them.

Stumbling as if in a daze, she was granted a far more impressive sight through the now gaping entrance. A colossal city stretched out before her, a sight she had never before seen. Each black stone structure easily dwarfed the crude huts and caves she had dwelled inside all her relatively short life.

“Welcome to The Holy City of Aslyd, holy offerings,” the guard to her right chuckled, though no introduction was required.

Awestruck, she followed along as they entered the city. Its walls were large enough to hold back even the most grotesque and powerful of the monstrosities her people were forced to flee from, ever on the move. The people of Aslyd would never need to run nor cower.

A booming horn echoed overhead as the guards hurried to seal the gates behind them, as if signifying their arrival. The crowded streets began to part, making room as they were led forwards.

Men, women, children, all went about their day, moving like a bizarre swarming sea. Never had Aifa witnessed a group larger than a dozen Cavaries. She quickly felt overwhelmed as their countless blue eyes peered at her group. Despite the looming walls, her instincts to flee increased tenfold. In the jungle, such a large number of Cavaries would surely bring attention from beasts.

Stepped ziggurats dotted the city among an ocean of dark buildings, yet there was no question as to where they were being led. Far in the distance, a colossal central ziggurat dwarfed all others.

As they walked, Aifa studied the passing structures with fascinated eyes. Artful depictions were etched into the walls of nearly every building, each containing variations of what appeared to be many writhing, grasping tentacles. Stories spoken in hushed terror amongst even the most distant tribes left her no doubt as to their purpose.

“The Mother approaches.“

She turned her head, seeking the source of a deep voice that echoed powerfully around her, though she found nothing but the curious faces of the loud crowds. Any could have spoken it, yet it’d felt so close, so clear, so…odd, it nearly felt as though it had come from within.

People began to reach out towards the women, only to be forcefully pushed back and beaten by the guards. Some began to chant. Others merely chuckled with bloodthirsty grins.

Aifa grimaced with each step towards the massive black ziggurat, despising her building fear. Even when sneaking through the underbrush to avoid predators, she had never felt such dread, making her scowl at her newfound weakness. She could see a massive brazier burning atop the ziggurat’s flat peak, a beacon that only coaxed her misgivings further.

A consuming sense of insignificance swept over her as they reached the base of the ziggurat, peering up at its pyramidal shape. She peered up as they were led towards a side entrance, wondering if she’d ever see the sky again.

The guards pulled them through a corridor until they emerged into a large chamber. The room was lined with females wearing bizarre headdresses that concealed much of their faces, their bodies as bare as their captives. The group waited in silence until one of the strange women approached.

The woman moved to the first in line, instructing the girl to stand with her legs parted. As if studying the girl, the woman’s hands began to explore her bound body, running over her belly and cupping her breasts. When her observer knelt, the girl released a squeak into her gag as fingers parted her labia, easing inside just enough to make her quiver.

Stepping to the next in line when she was finished, the woman began to inspect each captive in order, moving wordlessly. When Aifa’s turn arrived, she glared as her perky breasts were cupped. She clenched her legs together, only to be smacked hard. Gritting her teeth behind her gag, she reluctantly obeyed, parting her thighs. As a finger pushed into her blue lower lips, she pulled at her bindings, muttering a muffled curse. She granted the woman a glare of hatred as her inspector moved to the next in line. Feeling violated, Aifa breathed in frustration, unable to utter the vicious words she wanted to hurl.

After the last was thoroughly inspected, the woman gestured to her companions before stepping aside. Carrying water buckets, they began to wash the mud from the red skin of their captives. Aifa felt their exploring hands, wanting to break free and slaughter each of them. Traveling over her toned and feminine form, they seemed to rub every inch of her body until she was no longer certain which was worse, the inspection or the bath. In any other circumstance, she’d have gladly accepted their touch. Here, she could only blush with humiliated rage.

“All purified. One selected.”

Again she frantically turned, seeking the voice. It felt as if spoken from many throats, condensed into a single voice that poured directly into her mind. She quivered, feeling her anger dissolve away into fear. The other captives glanced at her in confusion as if they hadn’t heard the booming words.

Once cleaned, the guards followed the leading woman as they pulled along their captives. Through a corridor they traveled, the dark stone decorated with intricate etchings. First came the artwork of a woman standing before a creature, hardly more than a horrifying mass of tentacles. Next, the woman appeared to be within the creature’s grasp, her legs spread wide and depicting enough detail to cause four of the captives to blush.

Striding deeper into the corridor, the artwork depicted the woman wrapped within the grasp of many writhing tentacles, her belly swelling with child. Aifa couldn’t help but test her bindings, wondering if her accursed fear would bless her with the strength to break free. She froze when she saw the final etchings. There, covering both walls and ceiling, were images of the pregnant woman atop the ziggurat, her belly carved open by a woman in a headdress. The offspring that was pulled from her womb, an abomination of tentacles, appeared to be hurled into the fire of the grand brazier.

Aifa attempted to halt her steps as panic claimed her, only to be roughly shoved forwards by a guard.

“Banish your fear, for I shall spare you of such a fate.”

The voice once more echoed inside her head. It felt as though it caressed her mind, pouring a deep calming sensation through her. The quickening of her heart slowed just enough to allow her to continue walking.

They emerged into a central chamber, its insides carved to mirror the pyramidal shape of the ziggurat. Inside waited a single man upon a black throne, his bald head topped with a tattoo depicting a circle. They were brought before him like conquered trophies on display. To her surprise, however, he bowed his head in respect after standing to approach.

“Holy offerings, welcome. It’s an honor to stand before a potential Holy Mother,” the man said in a calm tone, straightening as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You stand before Mauron, Knowledge Holder of Aslyd,” the leading woman announced with a gesture of her hands. “Make no move. Make no sound.”

As the guards began to remove their gags, the woman that had been in front of Aifa attempted to beg. “Please…release us and we’ll-“

The nearest guard swiftly sent a fist into her belly to silence her, only for Mauron to raise his hand gently. “Apologies, though you’ll need to refrain from speaking for the moment. I can risk no intrusion.”

Waiting, nearly tempted to defy him merely out of spite, Aifa watched his blue eyes studying them. Though noticeably accented, his language appeared close enough to her own to understand.

“Speak the true name of The Creator, and I shall set you free,” Mauron commanded, observing them with a kind smile.

“Dorian.”

The voice echoed so powerfully that Aifa continued to be baffled when all the others appeared oblivious. Instead, they all looked at each other in confusion, uncertain how to answer.

Every instinct screamed to hold her tongue, to merely lower her eyes and wait, yet she felt her mouth opening. Whispers tugged at the back of her mind, pushing against her willpower. She felt them building and building until she finally gasped, speaking without her control. “Dorian…”

“Ah, we have our Holy Mother,” Mauron said with a slight twitch of his eye. He smiled, stepping towards her. He clasped the sides of her face, pressing his lips to her forehead. “The sacrifices we make shall ensure the future. Step bravely, for you are blessed to serve The Creator’s first creation.”

Uncertain of his meaning, yet dreading it all the same, Aifa watched as her collar was removed. Relief filled her as she was freed of its constricting grip. Yet when they didn’t remove her arm bindings, she peered at the other captives in confusion as they were forced to back away.

“You’ve been chosen, child,” Mauron said as the guards led the others from the room.

Heart quickening once more as she watched them depart, she found herself alone with The Knowledge Holder and two guards. “Whatever you intend to do, I swear to you, I’ll repay every indignity with the fury of-“

Her gag was quickly returned as she struggled with the guards. Her resistance proved useless as she was overpowered, seething despite her fear.

“Do not fight your fate, for we all possess our own. Serve your purpose with dignity,” Mauron said, caressing her cheek with an expression that might have been sorrow. Then, with a flick of his hand, he ordered the guards to remove her.

***

“Nearly there.”

The comment came from one of the guards as they led her through the tunnel, each holding a torch burning a deep purple from a strange oil.

Deeper and deeper they ventured, descending far beneath the ziggurat. Aifa couldn’t keep the images of the artwork from her mind, her arms still bound behind her. Each step threatened to force tears of fear from her eyes, or a scream of anger at having been forced into such a fate. She wished to dig her claws into her captors, unable to do anything but march towards what awaited her.

Finally, they reached a large set of stone doors, and she watched with dread as the guards pulled them open. Beyond, a cavernous cave stretched out into the darkness, beyond the reach of their torches. A guard shoved her from behind, forcing her to step out into the open. Her highly developed eyes allowed her to see much through the darkness, though not quite to the other side. Only a faint red glow was visible through the consuming shadows.

The guards set about lighting the torches resting in their sconces, illuminating further into the cave. They burned the same bright purple of the torches in their hands, flickering wildly. “This’ll last you a few moons, Holy Mother.”

Without another word, they made their way back towards the doors, stone grinding as they were sealed behind her. Any hope of escape departed with them, locked deep beneath the ground.

She forced herself to peer through the darkness despite her terror, the light allowing her to see the faint outline of a massive pile of rubble in the center of the cave. Peering closer coaxed a sickening sensation through her as she realized the pile was moving, nearly quivering. The sounds of something wet quietly echoed off the walls, and she watched as the pile began to unravel into countless twisting tentacles.

Pulling at her bindings, she turned to press her shoulder against the door, pushing in a doomed attempt to break free.

“Banish all fear.”

She shook her head, attempting to escape the voice. She pounded her shoulder against the stone frantically, hearing a dripping noise from behind. The closer it grew, the more she fought, only to spin around with terror when she realized it would never budge.

There, at the edge of the flickering light, she watched as tentacles began to emerge from the darkness. Dripping with slime, they crept forward. Darkly shaded horrors with red bioluminescent tips approached, granting her no room to run.

She attempted to kick one aside, feeling its slick texture against her skin. What hope did she have against such a monstrosity? The question was answered as she cried out into her gag, feeling tentacles beginning to wrap around her legs. They curled around her ankles. They slithered up her calves. Without warning, she found her feet yanked from below her, her head nearly hitting the ground as she was swiftly hoisted high into the air.

Attempting to escape their curling grip, though utterly failing, she squirmed within their grasp. They held her upside down, feeling slippery and bizarre against her red skin as they writhed. Terror within her helpless form only grew as a horrid realization seeped through her, for wherever the slime touched, her skin began to tingle. It was a faint sensation at first, a tickle that crept deeper and deeper with every passing moment. As its intensity increased, she found her red cheeks darkening. The slime dripped over her skin, running up her legs.

“You’ve stepped into your fate. No other is adequate.”

Struggling in the creature’s grasp, she cared little for the words echoing within her head. Escape remained her only focus, appearing all but impossible with every passing second. Whispers continued to caress her mind like unseen tentacles. She shook her head, mixing rage with terror as she felt a sensation of arousal seeping into her core with every unbearable word. What was this thing doing to her?

Curling around her legs until they reached her knees, the tentacles brought her closer towards the gargantuan mass lurking within the darkness. Eyes adjusting, she began to make out its form, her breathing quickening with panic as she neared it.

“The Red Vessel…the first…”

A mass of writhing, squirming tentacles loomed before her, a creature larger and more terrifying than she had ever encountered. Every survival instinct screamed to flee. Her cheeks burned brightly with emotion, hating how helpless she felt as her strong legs were easily controlled by the firm grip of the tentacles. Her heart pounded as they gradually slithered across her skin, almost taunting her as their tips licked at the beginning of her thighs.

Slowly, she felt them pulling in opposite directions. Unable to resist their strength, her thighs were forced apart. Further and further, they tugged, spreading her legs as far as her flexible body would permit. She released a whine of anger to mask her fear, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than ever before as her glowing womanhood remained on full display. She felt the surrounding air of the cave between her legs.

The tips of the tentacles curled further around her legs, slithering wetly up her thighs. Prodding, sliding, caressing, they moved back and forth over her inner thighs, her skin tingling wherever the slime touched.

Entirely unable to close her legs, she could only hope they remained content to explore no further. Her womanhood clenched nervously, feeling the tingling slime so close to her most intimate area that her lower lips faintly quivered. She scowled with fury, hating the fate that had been forced upon her even as she fought to mask her trembling.

Only her tail remained free, whipping and curling. It was an unintentional mirror of the countless tendrils stretching forth from the creature, writhing wildly. It appeared to dance through the air with its newfound companions, her enemies, squirming like serpents of endless sizes.

She looked down, or rather, up, as she felt a third tentacle nudge against her midriff. If slowly encircled her waist to hold her tighter, squeezing lightly.

“The Red Womb…creator of our future…”

The voice whispered into her as the tentacle’s tip caressed her toned belly, almost lovingly. 

Without warning, the image of her own body flashed through her mind, womb swelling with a growing child. A deep arousal crept through her mind, whispered from beyond her own will. She thrashed, knowing what death such a pregnancy would lead to.

“None shall harm you.”

The voice oozed into the core of her mind, moving another tentacle to hover above her bound form. 

“The last to bear; the first spared.”

The odd words brought a calming sensation, yet she continued to struggle as the tentacle above began to lower. It nudged against her thigh, then closer, until…

Her hips quivered as it lightly dragged across her blue labia, no longer able to hide her trembling. Her back arched as she frantically tugged at her arm bindings. A muffled whimper escaped her gag as she felt it slide over her lower lips gently, almost as if to grant her a taste of the inevitable.

She hated the tingling sensation running through her labia. She hated how deeply her cheeks blushed. She hated the arousal building within her helpless loins against her will. The whispers continued in the back of her subconscious, fighting anger with a creeping sense of calmness.

The thin tip of the slimy tentacle lightly traced up and down between her lower lips. Slime coated her folds, sending pulses of a tickling sensation through her sensitive womanhood as it teased her. She wanted to scream, to cry out, never feeling more powerless in all her life. Even hiding in the mud from monstrosities in the wild held more dignity. Here, she was little more than a toy to tease and torment.

Its methodical explorations mercifully remained outside, content to study every part of her glowing labia as if they were the petals of a precious flower. She squirmed at the sensation, feeling a pleasure of unwanted arousal building within her loins. She tried to scream in anger, glaring with defiance. The terror she had felt was slowly drained away, pulled aside by the whispering within her. She was losing herself, her mind, her willpower, fighting every second and losing.

The appendage lifted from her surface, its tip leaking a thick stream of slime that trickled between her lower lips. Her thighs strained to shut with every ounce of her strength, feeling a deep tickle wherever the slime touched as it oozed down into her tight depths. She bucked her hips in a violated panic, screaming into her gag.

Seeping deeper and deeper, she felt the slime pool against her cervix, inciting a feeling odder and more intense than she had ever experienced. She released a whine, her toes curling as her body flushed with arousal.

“None can stem the flow of fate. None can resist the inevitable.”

The tentacle returned between her parted thighs as she struggled, dangling upside down like helpless prey, for indeed she was. There was no escape, she knew, feeling it beginning to glide back and forth between her lower lips. It moved slowly, applying faint pressure as its slick texture caressed her.

“Untainted. Untouched. The virgin womb births the necessary line.”

The creature’s bizarre words seeped into her brain, inciting a deep calm that she fought against with whatever will remained to her. Despising herself as she quivered with an aching pleasure, she felt the tentacle grinding harder against her, as if testing her resistance.

Finally, after several grueling minutes of teasing, the tentacle came to a stop. Its tip pushed between her labia, parting her as it began to sink inside.

She cried out as hard as she could while her body was violated. A scream of rage was reduced to a muffled shout, almost a moan. Her body defied her mind, eagerly accepting the invading appendage as if a close lover. It slid into her virgin embrace, claiming her forever.

Aifa would’ve preferred shattering pain as her hymen was torn away. Instead, she felt nothing but a deep ecstasy radiating through her loins as the tentacle slid inch by inch into her vagina. Had the slime nullified her agony? Had the whispers finally claimed her mind? A muffled moan eased into her gag, despising herself.

The thin tip easily pushed through her gripping tightness, exploring every inch of her feminine tunnel as it made its way towards her limit. Only when it found its target did it stop, prodding her cervix before caressing it in a circular motion.

Eye widened at the sensation as her body shook with pleasure, a cry of pleasure ripped free of her throat. Her defiance was fading with every moment against her will. Her body wanted this. Her mind wanted this, hating herself as she closed her eyes to focus on the massaging movements within her vagina. She should fight the monstrous creature until the end, yet already she was succumbing to its touch. It felt…enthralling, visceral, a fact that was pulled to the surface of her mind by the whispering whenever she tried to deny it.

The tentacle slowly began to withdraw, only to push back inside. Again it moved out, then in, and out again with slow movements. Aifa realized what was occurring, hardly forcing herself to struggle as her loins burned with consuming lust. Her thighs clenched hard, trembled with pleasure, and relaxed. She needed to fight. She needed the tentacle to continue. Her mind was splitting. Her eyes fluttered. She moaned as it pleasured her gently, throwing her head back as if tempting it to fuck her harder.

“The Red Vessel accepts her duty and awaits her reward.“

When had she fallen? When had she lost herself? In and out the slimy tentacle continued, gaining speed until it began to properly thrust. Its slow and careful movements grew more forceful with each passing second, ripping further muffled moans from her throat.

Dangling in the creature’s grasp, she could only squirm, entirely at its mercy. Each movement sapped whatever little resistance remained, the whispering within her mind driving her closer towards a yearning acceptance. Aifa begged herself to resist. Her mind forced her to accept her pleasure. Her body could only quiver.

Her thoughts felt foggy as the whispers continued within her mind. She was Aifa, was she not? Yes, that was surely her name. Why had she fought to escape? Clarity returned to her eyes for a moment, squirming, only to fade. Her loins pulsed with a tickling pleasure deeper than she had ever felt. Memories of her previous female lovers were forced through her haze as if purposeful, comparing nimble fingers and tongues to the wet appendage wiggling within her vagina now. Never could they compete.

The world beyond the cavern was a distant memory, yet she clung to it. A city sat above them. Did the strange words hold truth? Would she truly be spared of the fate depicted upon the walls of the ziggurat? If her defiance had been ripped away, perhaps fear would save her from madness.

“None shall harm you, for you’ll birth our future.”

Slowly, feeling each wet thrust of the tentacle as slime tickled her inner walls, she ceased pulling at the bindings restraining her arms. Much of her body was no longer Aifa. Much of her body was only pleasure. A fragment of her mind struggled to focus only upon her legs, straining to close them with a strength she no longer possessed. She needed to protect herself as she always had, to ensure her survival, yet…even her strong thighs gradually eased until her eyes rolled back in bliss.

Tentacles began to untie her arms, replacing the rope with their own grip. The restraints of her captors fell into the darkness below. Tentacles curled around her arms.

Her clawed toes curled as she threw her head back in pleasure, feeling the tentacle pounding against her inner depths. She had saved herself for a worthy mate capable of granting her strong offspring, yet…the image of her belly swelling with the creature’s child prodded at her mind.

Her inexperienced vagina flared with tingling arousal, feeling it build and build until she felt she’d burst. Then, clenching her body, she released a powerful moan as a strong orgasm claimed her entire existence.

Shaking in her slick bindings as she cried out, the tentacle never slowed. It moved with precision, hitting exactly where it needed to draw out her climax further. She fought for breath, gasping as it slowly faded. Her mind buzzed, shattered, half wanting to scream for help, and half needing to be wrapped entirely in her captor’s grip to ensure she’d never escape.

The writhing, thrusting tentacle explored every inch of her pussy, seeming to know just where to touch to coax ecstasy throughout her loins. The slime tormented her further, ensuring every ounce of resistance was cut away. Soon, even the city above began to fade from her mind. No longer could she focus on anything other than the deep yearning coursing through her flexible red body.

Further tentacles began to prod at her, caressing her curves. They began to touch her round breasts, young and perky. A cry of lust was forced from her lips as one gently tugged at her nipple ring. As if in apology, it began to caress the sensitive nub. The slight pain only excited her further. Aifa would’ve shouted curses at her violator. Where was Aifa? Would Aifa save her? Was she Aifa? No longer was she certain.

“What’s…happening to me?” she thought to herself with a deep groan, every nerve of her body flaring with arousal.

“A proper vessel must be forged. The mother must arise.”

Once she would’ve screamed in horror at knowing the creature could hear her thoughts. Now, she only screamed in pleasure as a second climax tore through her squirming body.

Clenching her eyes shut when her orgasm had finally subsided, she knew she should resist the whispers reshaping her mind. Somewhere, lost deep within, Aifa begged herself to push back.

Images of her pregnant body flowed once more through her head. Imaginary tentacles poured from her womb, tearing a newfound emotion through her. Did she feel…love? Her willpower gradually faded until she could only moan at the possibility. To birth a monstrosity was both terrifying…and wonderful.

There was nothing she could do, no one to help her. She was but a plaything to the creature, her hips bucking as a third climax was forced through her body, then a fourth mere minutes later. She screamed into her gag, mind slowly unraveling with each thrust. Had she been here an hour? Two? Hundreds? Did time even have a place in her torment, or would her entire reality eternally be her pleasure?

Now she fought against Aifa. She pushed back against the tiny sliver remaining of her reluctance, her resistance, until every inch of her body trembled in bliss. She attempted to strike down each impulse to flee, shattering her defiance with her own hand. Her maternal instincts flared to life, desperate for the creature’s seed as she gradually melted into its hold. Aifa was an enemy to her pleasure. She would harm her future child. Nothing could endanger her chance at conception.

Thrusting harder, moving faster, the tentacle glided in and out with ease. Another found its way between her legs to join its companion, focusing its purpose upon her throbbing clit. Her body writhed as it began to flick its thin, slimy tip back and forth against its target, forcing her hips to shutter as she was quickly overwhelmed.

“The Vessel obeys.”

Aifa wanted to shake her head, to offer a final show of pointless defiance. She found herself nodding. There was no other fate she desired, no other place she’d rather be. Having saved herself for only the worthiest mate, she knew now the moment had arrived.

“The Vessel plays her part, as I do.“

She watched as a tentacle approached her mouth, finally freeing her voice as it pulled away her gag. She cried out in pleasure, allowing her newly freed moans to echo wildly off the vast cave walls.

“We search for an artist.”

“Oooohhh…” she groaned, her tail flipping about her body in a dance of utter satisfaction.

The tentacles began to shift, rotating her body until she was no longer upside down. Held firmly with her legs apart, they granted her a further hint of freedom, easing to merely hold her thighs apart rather than coiling around her legs.

Clit pulsating with pleasure as it was teased, she once again screamed as she orgasmed, leaking her juices to mix with the slime coating the tentacles. Struggling for breath, she forced her words from her throat. “Oooohh great God…I…I can’t…I…”

“Onaalag is no god, only a creation, yet the path to a worthy God is through you. Birth the line. Birth the path.”

Images again flowed through her mind, witnessing a hybrid of tentacles mixed with her own blood pushing from her vagina. Tentacles stretched forth across the land, as if capable of seizing the world itself. To her surprise, she found herself smiling, her instincts bursting with desire. She’d be a mother, yet to whom? To what?

Slowly, the tentacles binding her arms began to move away, leaving her crimson skin unconstrained as others moved to support her back. The opportunity had arisen, a chance to slash her claw-like fingernails at the appendages in the slim hope of escaping. She could fight her captor, her…mate…

“The Vessel accepts her duty.”

Instead, she eased against her tentacle supports, basking in the sensation of the tentacle writhing within her. All was lost. Aifa was lost. She was merely a womb, a vessel.

“The vessel must be eager.”

Her body moved with each hard thrust of the tentacle, causing her pointed blue tongue to fall from her mouth in bliss like a pleasured serpent. Reaching up, she caressed a tentacle above her as it curled down to cup her breast, stroking it lovingly.

“The Red Womb must crave.”

More images flowed through her, an unavoidable pregnancy that her body begged for. “Please…ooohh…grant me your divine seed…”

As if satisfied, the creature pulled her closer, wrapping her in a flurry of hungry tentacles that caressed her crimson skin and coated her further in slime.

Mind slipping through her fingers, she could think of little else but her future offspring, womb craving to be inseminated. Hips bucking in an insatiable heat, she couldn’t stop herself from begging. “Breed me…ooohhh fuck…BREED me…please!”

Every moment seemed to drive her desire further until it neared becoming an obsession, the whispering at the back of her awareness never ceasing.

“Grant me your child! Ooohhh…I want to birth your…ahhh…seed…great Onaalag!”

“The Red Vessel is prepared, and thus the future emerges.”

Frantically thrusting, the tentacle seemed to fall into a frenzy. The quick speed nearly drove her over the edge of her next climax, only to scream in absolute satisfaction as she felt bursts of warm, thick sperm erupt from the appendage’s tip within her.

Eyes rolling back, her body convulsed in an orgasm more powerful than she had ever experienced, entirely consuming her as the creature drained its seed deep inside her fertile vagina.

The viscous liquid quickly proved to outmatch her tight capacity, causing weighty streams of cum to pour from her lower lips with each powerful spurt that continued to pump into her.

Every primal instinct to breed flared to life and shattered within her mind, the faint whispering seeming only to increase her ecstasy. She fell limp within her mate’s grasp, momentarily lost as she struggled to regain herself.

The creature’s virility appeared endless as it filled her, never seeming to end as sperm gushed from her womanhood. Then, with a powerful burst, it finally unleashed the last of its cum.

“Onaalag…” she moaned, hardly able to move as the tentacle pulled itself from her loins. Entirely filled, potent sperm oozed from between her lower lips with each pleasured contraction of her vaginal muscles. “I…am…yours…”

“The mother, bringer of the bloodline. Hear my command and hold it to your dying breath.”

“Any…anything…” she muttered, broken from pleasure.

“Seek Synaalag.”

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