It was a pretty undoing in front of him. The threads mingled with her brain and learned all her favorite nodes throughout her body. The demon played with all her raw, feeling surfaces, and slither against every fold inside her. A doll, available to him inside and out. The tentacles and his cock were feeding off her pleasure, and the conflict she was experiencing. His fingertips stroked her body as it arched and moved, sucking up delicious electricity from her screaming skin.<br/><br/>Once all the things that wanted to attach to her had gotten their hold, and were radiating torturous pleasure, the threads in her head retreated from her eyes and nose and ears. It would feel like a relief, being rid of all that stressful rapture, her body would regain a sense of its former sensory autonomy. He gasped when he looked at her, the demon's seed pearling like thick tears, and leaking from her nostrils. The harness lifted the poor girl off the monstrous cock and the filthy tentacle unsheathed from her ass, and both those treasured, gaping, deflowered entrances were now also bubbling with left-over secretions.<br/><br/>He put her down on the bathtub bottom, shaking his head as though it could make his violation of her go away. She was sitting in a puddle of proof that he was a monster now, and that he had his way with her against her protests. Aliand still trembled with what her body had given him. It had been the best and darkest enjoyment of his life. He'd loved her agony, and felt accomplished to torture her with her own rapture. He swallowed and looked down at himself. It was stronger than before, by the looks of it, muscles drawn tighter and skin flawless.<br/><br/>He sat on his knees to be at her level, and held her face up. "I..." he tried, but seeing her beautiful details and remembering that mouth stretched around a dark tongue and then distorted in ecstasy, he couldn't pretend that he deserved forgiveness. He was already wanting to do more of it to her. One hand reached out to turn the water hotter, and he held her to him while the rain from the showerhead tried to wash away what he'd done to the poor girl who had invited him into her home, and helped him escape from the gory scene.<br/><br/>"Danielle." he said among the deafening rays. "I'm sorry." It was a meager offering after so much offence, and he hadn't even meant it for what he'd just put her through - he was asking forgiveness for what he might do soon again. Her womb was pulsing with the orb he'd created in her, and her stomach would be crawling with new, small life.