Sam knelt in front of him obediently, like she had been trained to do; her head bobbing up and down as she took the length of his cock into her mouth. She was naked – she was usually kept that way to show off the artwork of women being raped by monsters that had been tattooed all over her. She struggled to keep the new bull ring in her nose out of the way of her work.

Not that he cared as he watched the glass tank that formed the end of his room. Thick, spined tentacles flailed and lashed in their confinement – though he could even hear them slamming against the thick walls of the containment cell. Nothing could be hear from in there, and there was no way for the thing to escape... and it had to be fed regularly. So he was glad that there was a little hatch at the top.

He waited as the slave's lips worked up and down, her tongue constantly massaging... knowing the awful things that could happen to her if she didn't pleasure him enough. Sam's head bobbed up and down, taking his cock into her her mouth almost desperately.

Then the moment he'd been waiting for arrived. A slim, blonde figure dropped into the enclosure. Barbara Dunkleman struggled as the thick, thorny tentacles seized her long before she hit the ground – its spines digging into her skin and drawing drops of blood as its appendages wrapped around each limb. He couldn't hear her, but he could see the terror and the silent – from his point of view – screaming as the mass of them moved around her and the barbs on each one.

She knew enough about Hentai to know where this was going.

As Sam slurped away, though, there was a little noise; the dull thud of impact after the tentacles drew back and then flicked forward. The motion slammed Barbara's helpless body into the glass – leaving a little smear of blood where her nose had impacted since she hadn't turned her face fast enough. The screaming had stopped – a dazed look on her face.

Then a tentacle slithered around her waist. He took his time looking over her body as her limbs were jerked up, leaving her ass and pussy exposed. Her pale pussy looked surprisingly normal between her legs, her tits not big enough to get the bounce that some of the slaves could but nice enough to watch as he held himself back from flooding Sam's mouth with cum.

As she hung there, her mussed hair drifting around her face, the main tentacle moved into position. The others hand spines; thin, painful thorns that would only do damage if it whipped them across her skin. The main tentacle was an altogether different beast. It was twice as thick as his – admittedly slender – arm. Each thorn was like a hooked finger made sharp bone.... they would simply flatten on the way in, not so much on the way out.

There was a moment; the main tentacle prodded at her pussy and she went utterly still aside from the widening of her blue eyes. Then the moment was gone as the tentacle around her waist yanked her down and the main tentacle surged up. The thick shaft forced her pussylips wide, its size alone ripping into her. He couldn't hear the screaming, but he could see it... and the tears streaming down her face.

The tentacles wrapped around her arms and legs kept her in position as it smashed into her, forcing her abs to bulge out – and the bulge immediately became an angry red welt. Then it ripped back down with a gush of blood and shoved back in.

Both hands grabbed Sam's head and forced her down, his cock breaching into her throat; making her spasm and buck He held her down as he watched Barbara being raped to death. He face, that had been flush with pain and terror, started to pale, her eyes going hazy... though her tits didn't stop bouncing pleasingly.

There was a jerk and her eyes flew wide again as the tentacle around her right arm constricted – neatly snapping the bones. The the left arm. Then the ones around her legs folded them up the wrong way, her toes touching the front of her thighs... before the man tentacle pulled her down into a maw that snapped shut over her – neatly severing a hand.

He held Sam's head and pushed, forcing the opening to her throat open as he pulsed, spasmed and started unloading his balls down her struggling throat. The slave bucked in a reflex motion, but the collar stopped her from biting or trying to actually stop him as he pumped warm seed down into her stomach without her having to taste it.

“Fuck,” he sighed, once he was done. He let her pull back and cough and splutter. He didn't really care. He'd had his fun for the moment. As she manoeuvred her bloated, pregnant body to leave though, he spoke again; “Where do you think you're going? You've got a long night ahead of you before I'm done.” he told her bluntly. She looked back at him... and started to cry.