What Could Have Been (Mirchia Memeina)

[Tassadar]

Spoiler

Mirchell: HP = 67, PP = 44, EP = 47, Status = Grappled, Submission Hold, Starvation Collar, Naked

Maebev - Arch Traitor and Loyal Lieutenant
Aleida - Succubus Torturer
Malkeinith - Captain of the Lowest Guard

Garkus Ironbender - Elderly goblin forge master, commander of the tribe, sounds sort of like Keith David
Thick Goblin Girl - Orb shaped.

Rolls

Spoiler

Tentaclebeast will try to get her naked.
Grapple: 64 vs 95, it wins. Dun dun dunnn.

Tentacles grasped her battering wings, and twisted around her wrists and calves, manhandling the struggling demoness with practiced ease now that she was deprived of the ability to use her weight and momentum. Piece by piece, it picked apart her armor and underarmor, the mockingly applied plating falling to the dungeon floor with a clatter that echoed alongside her howl of denial, followed by sections of leather. Tendrils unworked ties and bindings effortlessly in spite of Mirchell's enraged thrashing, and with a forced twist of her limb Mirchell felt her sword leave her hand and clatter to the floor as well.

Once her armor was out of the way, the tentacled horror pulled her further upwards, spun her, and forcibly constrained her in on herself all at once. She was left with her wrists crossed behind her back and at full extension, her legs bent until her knees were pressed into her shoulders, her wings forced together, and her head hanging down to stare down at what was happening to the rest of her. Only Mirchell's tail remained momentarily free, those tentacles making half-hearted efforts failing to grasp the equally sinuous limb not yet managing it.

With its prey bare and secured, Mirchell was forced to watch as the monstrosity brought its more depraved appendages into the struggle; a single immensely thick tendril squirmed down to point at her from below, roughly between her legs, while two narrower ones swirled around her hanging bust. The upper pair coiled around both of her breasts, and then their tips opened - revealing rows upon rows of tiny writhing miniature tentacles - before sealing themselves over her areola. Her more sensitive skin was bombarded with their attention, slowly but surely forcing her nipples to harden in spite of her desires, and she felt a firm suction begin to build in bursts, as if it were intent on forcing her to give up her milk in spite of her present lack of lactation. Worse still, below her, the larger tendril opened like a flower, fleshy petals spreading, and with a surge a distressingly familiar transparent appendage emerged, smooth and slimy and with a tube-like opening on one end. The ovipositor brushed against her taut stomach as it emerged, and Mirchell could feel it pulsating against her flesh as it began to slide downwards...

 

[Mirchia Memeina]

The winged demoness let out a bellowing roar of terrified fury as her wrist twisted - one glowing eye scrunched against the pain, even as her fist clenched as tight as it could around the grip of her weapon, as if it were the only thing separating her from death. The bone creaked as the pair wrestled for supremacy, but no matter how hard her will was willing to fight to the bitter end, her body was not - just before the twisting tension could cause real injury, clawed fingers sprang open, and the weighty sword sprang from her grip, ringing loudly as it struck the stone beneath, along with her armour. Breastplate, pauldrons, fauld. Leather and tattered cloth. All fell away, until the squirming albino was naked in her entirety - even the greaves encapsulating her feet, by far the hardest part to remove without thumbs, but little real issue for the dedicated tentacle horror!

Exposed muscle rippled as Mirchell thrashed wildly, her wings beating frantically like a bat ensnared in a colossal spider's web. Heavy breaths and the rotations that left her head spinning, the mockery of a crown that was her three shattered and one whole horn glinting as dirty-white hair tumbled wildly around her exposed frame. At the very least, the dizziness quietened the sounds of their scuffle to a degree, as the albino was left temporarily breathless.

The perfect opportunity to exploit, as the frantic beats of her wings began to slow, as bit by bit the flailing limbs were restrained, allowing the dust to settle at last. Her arms pulling backwards even as ripped biceps strained in furious effort to resist, and wildly kicking feet found themselves encircled too. How slick and smooth they felt, so horrifically unnerving as one coiled around her knee pits, and forced the limbs to bend through superior leverage. Up and up, until the albino could flail no more - a shibaried bunny straining against her bondage as her bouncing chest began to heave more and more frantically, beginning to truly hyperventilate as other tendrils presented themselves.

She shrieked again as suckers wrapped themselves around the jiggling mass of her breasts, finally freed from their armoured confines - head tossing and waving, as if her horns still posed any threat. And it began. The shock of pleasure that made Mirchell's glowing eyes waver and cross, her knife-like ears drooping almost shyly and jaw clenching shut as a hundred tiny points of contact squirmed their way around her areolae. Perhaps the tentacle horror could tell of some of her bodies' past - read the unhealed stretch marks, the well-developed swell of her breast. Perhaps it was simply hoping for the best. But with tendrils squeezing and cupping at her chest, and dozens of tiny tendrils caressing every millimeter of sensitive flesh, the demoness knew it wouldn't be long, as pangs of pleasure from the sucking sensations cut gashes through her panic.

But there was the worst. The silvery, translucent tentacle emerging from that grossly flower-like appendage like a horrific stigma, leaving a trail of slime across ashen flesh as it descended lower, over her waist, and towards the plumpened slit adorned by its crown of ash-white hair - the softest part of the hardened warrior's body, and one which had seen all too many tentacles in the last couple centuries; tender folds tucked away most privately.

Even her tail - helplessly flailing still, even if the appendage grown more for use as a rudder than a weapon posed no real threat - provided no comfort there, ineffectually swatting and lashing against the ovipositor. She wanted to cry. Tears built in the corners of the once-fearsome warrior's glowing orbs, as she strained into her bondage, shouting her dismay down the corridor. "No, no, no! NO! STOP! I WILL RIP YOU TO FUCKING PIECES!"

[Escape]

 

[Tassadar]

Spoiler

Mirchell: HP =59/ 67, PP = 34/44, EP = 47, Status = Grappled, Starvation Collar, Naked, Lactating

Maebev - Arch Traitor and Loyal Lieutenant
Aleida - Succubus Torturer
Malkeinith - Captain of the Lowest Guard

Garkus Ironbender - Elderly goblin forge master, commander of the tribe, sounds sort of like Keith David
Thick Goblin Girl - Orb shaped.

Rolls

Spoiler

Tentaclebeast will give her a little sting...
Grapple: 83 vs 95, tentacles win. Mirchell has been temporarily afflicted with the lactation mutation.

Gonna do a few rounds here. Milking time.
Grapple: 71 vs 90, including an autosuccess for the tentacle beast.
Foreplay Damage: 22 - 12 = 10
HP Damage for Resisting Pleasure: 8

Grapple: 81 vs 67, Mirchell escapes the submission hold!

Thrash how she liked, it increasingly seemed as if Mirchell was doomed to be subjected to the tentacled horror's lascivious whims, as she continued to fail to escape its grasp. In the meantime, its suckers continued to work on her breasts, alternating which was exerting pressure as if attempting to force her to surrender her milk. The sucking motions drew her nipples deeper into the embrace of the interior writhing tentacles, letting the legion of miniature tendrils attack it relentlessly. Pleasure surged up her spine in spite of the fury still coiling through her psyche, but after a few moments of sucking Mirchell would feel the forceful pressure momentarily ease as the suckers retracted.

If the demoness thought that she was in for mercy, however, her hopes were quickly dashed. A tendril sporting a stinger lowered into place, the narrow sharpened tube twisting rhythmically as it prepared to strike, and she saw a drop of bright blue venom ooze from it right before it lanced forward once, and then again. Pinpricks of pain resounded briefly from each breast, a tiny bit of red now staining the tendril, which hovered a moment longer before sinuously retracting away. For the first few moments, nothing happened, but then over the course of the next few seconds, heat and pressure rapidly built in her bosom. Many of the mutated creatures originally native to Hell prior to the Devourer's return had had millennia to acclimate to dealing with the shapeshifters that could control their own bodies, and had discerned several ways to force demonic bodies to bend to their desires in spite of being "lesser" creatures... And in this case, the tentacled horror had forced Mirchell to lactate, as after a few moments more pearly beads of her milk appeared at her nipples.

The sucker tendrils launched back at her immediately, latching onto her breasts and sucking hard until her milk burst into their transparent cups, rapidly filling both via that prolonged suction. The minor tentacles writhed against her nipples, practically tugging on them to further encourage them to yield their bounty, and the venom that had forced her to give up her milk had also heightened her sensitivity, leaving the pleasure more intense than ever. Feeling the relief of the very pressure that it had inflicted was a fresh heaven, eating away steadily at Mirchell's resistance as the suckers eased only to begin drawing on her teats with alternating pressures. Her milk filled each sucker in turn, only to have her nourishing fluid drawn away, and the tentacled horror gave a chitter for delight of the sort that Mirchell was all too familiar with given how many times she'd been victimized by these horrid entities. The thing's ovipositor began thrusting against her belly, rubbing a lower part of itself against her nether lips as it girded itself to plant its eggs in her womb...

Perhaps it was the creature growing complacent as it enjoyed its meal, or perhaps feeling the appendage that was to force her into motherhood again gave Mirchell a burst of adrenaline, but after suffering that indignancy for a minute or so, Mirchell's struggles would finally bear further fruit. One arm was wrenched free of its grasp, coming back out from behind Mirchell's back, followed quickly by the other. The horror gave an annoyed hiss, its tendrils starting to try and re-secure its grasp on her, but at least the suckers attached to her chest were getting less of the horror's concentration and thus easing the attention to her bosom and forcibly draining less of her nourishing fluids...

 

[Mirchia Memeina]

Bare and exposed, so fully restrained but for her rudder tail, still desperately - but wearily - flailing, too slippery to pin down for long, but unable to actually do much in return. Her attention was too occupied to focus on turning the spaded rudder into a weapon, especially when - with a hiss of breath - she saw what was coming.

But no amount of flailing would stop it - no amount of bucking and twisting to try and dislodge the ovipositor coiling its way around her thigh, slathering across the toned musculature of her belly would help, even if it made the curvature of her breasts bounce and jiggle erratically. Nothing that taking a moment to aim couldn't overcome, and Mirchell hissed again, with a tearful toss of her horned head, as the needle plunged through ashen flesh, into the softest part of her body.

Experience told her what to expect, but as the rush of heat burned its way through her body, colouring ashen cheeks a deep red, and concentrating in her breasts, it still came as a shock. Heat, and then weight, as her ability to shapeshift was suppressed, and instead the natural production of her repeatedly-motherly body was encouraged. She could almost hear the churning of production, the way her ashen tits began to engorge as they filled up, immediately beginning to ache.

Shit.

What tried to be an intimidating snarl turned into another gasp as suckers reattached themselves after a couple of failed attempts against her thrashing, fleshy lips squeezing into softening skin, and fear flashed across Mirchell's face as the internal tendrils set to work again. Fear, of the fact that it felt so good, leaving her flustered face to scrunch up with a tiny whimper as the suction yielded results; the building pressure giving way with a rush of creamy milk. Her entire body tensed, muscles clenching in resistance, but there was nothing she could do to stop the flow, nothing she could do but try and resist the burning pleasure, whilst exerting every effort to free herself. How long could she maintain the effort, as flaring nerves sent rippling pleasure through her body, the desire to give in, to obey, as she had been so thoroughly drilled to do? After all, she was just helping it out, repaying the creature for all of its kin she had slaughtered. Why should she not..?

With a scream, and a savage beat of her restrained wings, something finally gave. A long-nailed hand ripped through the air, surprising even its owner with the sudden sensation of actually being able to move, though she quickly adjusted as the second came roaring free. Pain lanced through her back as the motion of falling forwards forced the creature to tighten its grip on her wings, yanking painfully at her shoulders, but that was worth it. A chance. A chance! Adrenaline overwhelmed her training, allowing a brief exertion of her own will, and the ashen demoness gasped in excitement as the scuffle allowed her powerful legs to start kicking anew, straining her core to bend upwards, where her hands could assist; seeking to rip those limbs free - at which point she could probably retract her wings through shapeshifting, even if falling to the ground as naked as she was was going to hurt, to say nothing of the suckers still so thoroughly attached to her breasts.

Her sword was there, so close. Just... A little... More...

[Escape!]