V scene

[X] Unlock ‘Dark Magus’
 [X] Feast (3 charges from Mother of Many)
 [X] The sister mentioned by her family and pitied by the maid you heard... She is captured here, no? Her skills were praised but her situation pitied. Skilled children is always a good thing. Grant her the joy of being reborn as a Dark Magus (use one charge)! Grant her the chance of being able to use the power, her birthright, only men could use!
-[X] Everyone is captured... Then there is no need to hold back, isn't it? No one is left here to oppose you! You can eat more while you wait for your next daughter to be born. And when she will be reborn, it will be a time for celebration! A time to feast and eat as you want!
[X] It wouldn't do for your captives to die or provide less music... Your puppet can make sure they stay healthy during times you rest.
[20:42] <@qqdice> Chibi-Reaper rolled 1d9: 8 = [8]
[20:44] <@qqdice> Chibi-Reaper rolled 1d100: 80 = [60] + 20
[20:52] <@qqdice> Megaolix rolled 1d9: 9 = [9]



Your eyes flutter open once more, as the sweet tickling sensation of your sweet dark thrall’s tongue, worked meticulously once more at your unsheathed sex, leaving you to subconsciously unveil your four surrounding tendrils from their own hiding places as you awoke to a marvelous pleasure of her warm, long tongue doing its most sacred duty.

You draw her up towards your lips for a kiss of sultry savour. The taste of your own sticky fluids linger upon her tongue and breath creating a delicate flavour.

It is a good mood to which you awaken, full belly quieted down into a flat plain as you stare longingly half lidded at the rest of your terrified victims. As such when the stirrings of memory tickle your fancy, you do not simply dismiss it as you would have at another time. Indeed you are in a very receptive mood, ready to try new things... new flavours... Lightly the spectre of greed settles in upon your gut once more even as you allow the memory to ride the tip of your tongue.

“Aisandra.” You speak even as you lounge near the bars, your tail lashing lazily about even a s your puppet child continues to pleasure your naked chest, suckling as if herself a nursing babe as you cradle her head  and stroke her hair. “Aisandra... step forward my dearest little dotoi. Come to me... or let me come for you.” Your voice at first so sweet and calm, suddenly gains the urgency of menace as you growl the final words.

Slowly from among the naked cowering group one stands. Ah so beautiful, she is definitely her mother’s child, even the wonderful scent of her mad your mouth water in memory of she who was your first.

From her mother’s perspective you remember her, so soft and sweet. She’d been a person before, the young lady of the house, served by all, and of a generally sweet disposition. All loved her, all adored her. Her mother doted upon her, her brother gave her everything she could desired.

But that was before she loosened her collar, thinking only to allow her body slave, Ylanrick to try on the enchanted item which her mother had always told her to keep on at any cost. Then the ungrateful creature ran, taking the precious cargo with her... leaving Aisandra for the first time in her life… Collarless…. And stripped of all ownership.

Without her collar the daughter would find herself a no body, Less than a person as she was stripped of every luxury, every hope and dream crushed, save the fact that as their own flesh and blood her mother and brother did not simply sell her into a harder life that what they themselves provided.

In this society, Magic is everything. And one unable to express his/ or her magic, was reviled... close to inhuman in their position in the grand scheme of it all.

“Yes my dear, step forward. Let me get a good look at you.”


Oh, yes. You think to yourself. She is a lovely morsel. You could already imagine her radiant skin and hair sliding into you so very smoothly... such a perfect little meal indeed.

And yet you stayed your hand, curious as you remember how wonderfully well trained she had become, her mother pitiless in showing the new ‘slave’ the ropes, so far as to have supervised her first unwilling night beneath her brother’s body as they heaved and undulated entertainingly for the entirety of the night. The taste of shaped mana being fed to her baby boy, strengthening and enhancing him so that he wouldn’t tire on that their first time still lingered lightly, even though no such flow of mystical power flowed its way through your blood. It had been a necessity, her mother thought, to ensure that the girl child had been brought properly to heel, to ensure that she would not act out of place with her betters. Better that she be taught what was a necessity here and now in the home, in case the Tax collection should ever come to decide to utilize her as part of its bounty.

The empire cared not one whit about her previous status as heir; so long as she wore no collar, she was less than the lowest of noblemen and subject to anything which the tax collector desired short of slaughtering her.

You could see the fear of death glittering in her eyes even as you watched hypnotically close, letting lips close upon lips.

The kiss was long and lurid, and in its process your ample tongue slide down into her mouth, tasting of her even as you held and stroked her back. The lingering taste of her brother’s seed still stayed upon her supple tongue. It is easy to understand just why her mother so enjoyed her tenderest ministrations. There has been many a night spend upon her knees, in service to those who were her ‘betters’.

“You taste wonderful.” You speak, as you both break contact. Your eyes closed as you savior her flavours and with draw.

“Do you want to live?” You ask to her trembling face. The trembling nod yes brings a smile to your lips.

“Then you must enter me.” I speak, pointing down to my vagina, its sheath still open as my puppet child played. “I will allow you to climb inside of me, and you will be reborn much like she will be reborn. Enter me  Aisandra and I will make you new.”

There was fear in her eyes. But acceptance won the battle. Her brother and mother’s conditioning to obey, to do as they directed, only working towards your favour here as you became the authority which held her life within your hands.

“Will... will it hurt?” her fair face scrunched with uncertainty and fear.

“Oh yes my dear. It will hurt until your soul screams for it to end. It will hurt like nothing else you could have imagined... But in return, you will outlive all of this food.” You smile, waving at the frightened inhabitants of the cell, their numbers reduced.

You lie back, exposing your underbelly and inviting her onward. “Now. Come my beauty... be mine.”

She does not struggle against the inevitable as feet first she is pulled into your lower maw, your four tentacles slowly but surely helping her in, as you feel her twist and squirm and shudder and moan as she is pulled down inside of your body.

It is amazing just how easily she slides right inside, tickling your clit with her nose and hair as she finally finished sliding right in.

And then it only take but a moment more, as your spawn are released, and the silent screams send bolts of pleasure though your quivering pregnant belly.

Her pain will be exquisite.

But you are still hungry... and still there are those to be chosen