<strong>Belgana</strong>'s teeth seemed to do little damage to the tentacle.  It bounced back from her bite, still thick, still rigid.  It slid in until it had almost reached her throat, then retracted slightly.  There was a hesitation for the briefest moment, then Belgana felt her mouth suddenly filling with a sickly sweet, yet strangely salty, fluid.  It made her eyes water and burnt her throat, almost alcoholic, as it pumped more and more into her mouth.  She was left with the choice to swallow, or to choke.  If she swallowed she felt it burn its way to her stomach, heavy, intoxicating.<br/><br/>The new tentacle coiled itself around her other breast and, much like the first, she suddenly felt it attach itself to her nipple with a soft suction.  Almost in time with the suction the one between her legs pressed against her and entered her.  It slid into her until it met resistance, then pulled back.  A moment's pause, then it buried itself once more.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The tentacles buried themselves inside<strong>Lydia</strong>, both pushing as deep as they could go.  Then the one in her sex pulled back.  It paused, then thrust in once more in time with the one in her ass pulling out.  It began a rhythm, one thrusting into her, even as the other pulled out.  As they did, Lydia began to feel a presence in her mind.  A voice, only half-heard, seemed to echo in the depths of her mind even as a stinger tentacle moved to hover in front of her eyes.<br/><br/>"Child of Calistria.  Have you felt her sting?  Would you not like to serve another, one better, one who can gift you ecstasy?"  As the voice spoke in her mind the stinger began to move downwards.  It vanished from her view, then, an explosion of pleasure.  She could only faintly feel the faint prick of the stinger on her clit, a mere scratch, a drop of poison, but it was enough to magnify every sense a hundred-fold.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Alicia</strong>was fairly certain that her breasts were growing in size as the stingers continued to inject her, unfazed by her struggles or protests.  The pleasure within her continued to build, and the sensitivity of her skin and body seemed magnified.  Each touch of a tentacle, each cool breeze, was like a lover's caress.  The sensations continued to build even as she felt a tentacle between her legs.  The bulbous tip of the tentacle rubbed against her, teased her, but didn't enter her.<br/><br/>There was no answer to her question, but she got the distinct impression that the strange horror that was abusing her wanted her to beg.  It seemed to be teasing her, building her up without providing release.<br/>