The creature had been livid with excitement to feel the word spark fight in her. What a fiery little pastry she was. This was how she was sustenance to the old monster. Her teeth dug into her lip, and it was very endearing, to know she was so affected by the swelling inside her belly, from the decimal entrance, that she couldn't even protest fully. Denial was its own truth when it was executed poorly. More little objections, followed by more signs of rapture rocking her body. She was trying to show her pride, but was telling him secrets about her wants, made debauched by the sweet poison, eliciting her deeply hidden favorite things. The monster itself, that the sisters had drawn, was an answer for all the latent things in humans. They could not deny the effects of the creature without cutting parts of themselves off.<br/><br/>Aliand was heartbroken by her glare, but should have expected at least that much. It was hard to stay stricken by guilt for long when the picturesque redhead and her pearl skin was being overtaking by what should be stupefying abuse, but instead drew such sweet, approving breaths and sounds from her. He groaned into the kiss. His goodness had been struggling, but the approval between their lips, put together by her, was fast dissolving his will. He held on to her like they were lovers, and not at all a monster feeding off a virgin's offerings, and thrust his own hips to pry open he womb for him. He felt greedy to mark her now, to drown her fertile, tucked away room and truly soak her in his essence. It was both the godfearing man and the darkness that wanted her.<br/><br/>She had her wish, her addiction fulfilled, when his tongue swelled and found its way down her gullet again. It wasn't fair to her constitution to be fed so much of the elixir, and for the tentacles to sing so well with her synapses. A beast with an intimate connections to its prey's nerves. Aliand leaned back, eyes tainted by black scales again, though his natural color struggled to shine through. He saw his dark tongue between her lips, pulsing to climb lower into her willing swallow. He tried to shake his head, but his body was overwhelmed by having all her holes.<br/><br/>The tentacle in her filthiest tunnel started to slowly pump out a thick secretion. It was full off potential lives, and the little threads of monster-material attached to the folds in her inner walls, feeding off what her body planned to expel. It was for inspiration, mostly, what kind of larvae they should become, and beads started to form, which would of course add to her pleasure and humiliation.<br/><br/>The tip of the tongue, once past her esophagus, opened a slit like the one on the tip of his cock. Hyphae slithered out of the little opening, reaching to caress the myriad root-work that made up her lungs. Little threads were placed here too, impregnating her very breathing apparatus, but leaving her the ability to take up oxygen. She was being a perfect host, and her innocence was making a perfect hotbed for the evil that wanted to be born from a pure mother.<br/><br/>"You have to fight it." Aliand tried, but who was he to encourage such an effort, when he was holding onto her desperately, rocking his hips to stir and bruise her womb while letting his new extremities take pleasure from all her stretching holes. The limbs resonated with her enjoyment, and amplified all the inflaming rapture running through her. He gargled when more threadlike things shot out from the back of his neck, like a cloud of strings, to seek out her face, easily sliding in between the balls of her eyes and the lids, and crowing her nostrils and even invading her ears, eventually finding the gray mass protected by her cranium. It was a lethal doze of pleasure, building her central for receiving stimuli so it could be flooded again and again.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry." he offered as he came. The product was thick in the baby-room, but contracted soon to a white orb, sticking to her mother-walls with a net of cum. It would feel like a tinge in her, an unstoppable continued waltz of blinding delight. A growth of pure, sickening pleasure.