I'm sitting here in my dark, damp cave, surrounded by the twisted desires that fuel my every waking moment, and all I can think about is my latest acquisition, the one I've so lovingly referred to as my cum covered whore. My long black tentacles are still twitching with excitement as I recall the way they wrapped around my slut, holding him in place as I took what was mine.
My whore is in the air, suspended by the tentacles that are fucking him, 5 in his ass, 5 in his mouth, which my slut was sucking on with a desperation that only served to heighten my arousal. 3 were playing with my sluts cock, teasing it, taunting it, bringing it to the edge of release only to pull back and start all over again. 3 more were focused on his balls, rolling them, squeezing them, applying just the right amount of pressure to make my slut moan and whimper. 4 tentacles were latched onto his nipples, biting, sucking, and twisting them until they were red and swollen. And then there were the 4 that were yanking on his tail and ears, pulling him this way and that, playing with him like a puppet on a string.
All the while, I was fucking the other slave, who was begging for mercy, pleading for me to stop, but I just couldn't get enough. My sluts body was still covered in my cum, a constant reminder of the way I'd used him, of the way I'd taken what I wanted from him without caring about his desires or his well-being. And yet, despite the cum that still clung to his skin, despite the way his body must have been screaming in protest, my slut was still hard, still wanting more.
The tentacles yanked out the cum hook, and a very thin tentacle went into the hole in my sluts cock, feeling its way around, exploring every inch of his channel. My slut moaned, a sound that was equal parts pain and pleasure, as the tentacle probed deeper, searching for the perfect spot to stimulate. I could feel my own excitement building, my cock twitching with anticipation, as I watched my slut respond to the tentacle's ministrations.
I love the way my sluts body reacts to the tentacles, the way he tries to struggle, to break free, but can't. I love the way he moans, the way he whimpers, the way he begs for mercy, even though he knows it's pointless. I love the way his body trembles, the way his muscles tense, the way his eyes go wide with fear and arousal.
As I watched, the tentacles began to move faster, to thrust deeper, and my slut's moans grew louder, more desperate. He was on the edge, teetering on the brink of release, and I knew it. I could feel it. The tentacles were fucking him, pounding into him, and my slut was taking it all, every last inch of it.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. The tentacles froze, my slut's body went still, and I was left standing there, my cock throbbing with anticipation, my mind racing with the possibilities. I knew that my slut was still hard, still wanting more, and I was more than happy to oblige.
I reached out, my hand closing around my sluts cock, feeling the warmth of his skin, the pulse of his blood. I stroked him, slowly at first, feeling the way he responded to my touch. He was sensitive, still on edge, and I knew that it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge.
As I stroked him, I leaned in, my mouth closing around his nipple. I bit down, gently at first, and then harder, feeling the way my slut's body responded to the pain. He moaned, a sound that was equal parts pleasure and agony, and I knew that I had him right where I wanted him.
I sucked on his nipple, feeling the way it hardened in my mouth, feeling the way my sluts body responded to the stimulation. I was in control, completely and utterly, and I knew it. My slut was mine, to do with as I pleased, and I was determined to take full advantage of that fact.
As I sucked, I began to stroke him faster, feeling the way his body responded to the increased stimulation. He was getting close, I could feel it, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before he was cumming all over my hand.
But I wasn't ready for that, not yet. I wanted to prolong this, to make it last, to make my slut suffer just a little bit longer. So I slowed down, my hand moving more slowly over his cock, my mouth releasing his nipple.
My slut looked up at me, his eyes wide with desire, with need. He was begging me, silently, to finish him off, to let him cum. But I just smiled, a cruel, twisted smile, and continued to tease him.
I love this, the way my sluts body responds to my touch, the way he begs for mercy, the way he tries to break free. I love the way he moans, the way he whimpers, the way he cries out in agony and ecstasy.
As I looked into his eyes, I knew that I was in control, that my slut was mine, completely and utterly. And I knew that I would never let him go, that I would keep him here, in this cave, forever, subject to my every whim, my every desire.
My sluts body was still covered in my cum, a constant reminder of the way I'd used him, of the way I'd taken what I wanted from him without caring about his desires or his well-being. And yet, despite the cum that still clung to his skin, despite the way his body must have been screaming in protest, my slut was still hard, still wanting more.
I reached out, my hand closing around his cock, feeling the warmth of his skin, the pulse of his blood. I stroked him, slowly at first, feeling the way he responded to my touch. He was sensitive, still on edge, and I knew that it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge.
As I stroked him, I leaned in, my mouth closing around his nipple. I bit down, gently at first, and then harder, feeling the way my sluts body responded to the pain. He moaned, a sound that was equal parts pleasure and agony, and I knew that I had him right where I wanted him.
I sucked on his nipple, feeling the way it hardened in my mouth, feeling the way my sluts body responded to the stimulation. I was in control, completely and utterly, and I knew it. My slut was mine, to do with as I pleased, and I was determined to take full advantage of that fact.
As I sucked, I began to stroke him faster, feeling the way his body responded to the increased stimulation. He was getting close, I could feel it, and I knew that it wouldn't be long before he was cumming all over my hand.
But I wasn't ready for that, not yet. I wanted to prolong this, to make it last, to make my slut suffer just a little bit longer. So I slowed down, my hand moving more slowly over his cock, my mouth releasing his nipple.
My slut looked up at me, his eyes wide with desire, with need. He was begging me, silently, to finish him off, to let him cum. But I just smiled, a cruel, twisted smile, and continued to tease him.
I love this, the way my sluts body responds to my touch, the way he begs for mercy, the way he tries to break free. I love the way he moans, the way he whimpers, the way he cries out in agony and ecstasy.
As I looked into his eyes, I knew that I was in control, that my slut was mine, completely and utterly. And I knew that I would never let him go, that I would keep him here, in this cave, forever, subject to my every whim, my every desire.
My sluts body was mine, to do with as I pleased, and I was determined to take full advantage of that fact. I would use him, over and over again, until he was nothing more than a shell of his former self. And even then, I would continue to use him, to take what I wanted from him, to make him mine.
I would never tire of this, of the way my sluts body responds to my touch, of the way he begs for mercy, of the way he tries to break free. I would never tire of the way he moans, the way he whimpers, the way he cries out in agony and ecstasy.
My sluts body was mine, and I would never let it go. I would keep it, forever, subject to my every whim, my every desire. And I would use it, over and over again, until it was nothing more than a shadow of its former self.
But for now, I was content to simply tease him, to play with him, to make him suffer just a little bit longer. I would stroke him, slowly, feeling the way his body responded to my touch. I would suck on his nipple, feeling the way it hardened in my mouth. And I would look into his eyes, seeing the desire, the need, the desperation that drove him to beg for mercy.
My sluts body was mine, and I would never let it go. I would keep it, forever, subject to my every whim, my every desire. And I would use it, over and over again, until it was nothing more than a shell of its former self. But for now, I was content to simply tease him, to play with him, to make him suffer just a little bit longer.