Crucible of Pleasure

A faint, sweet cry echoed through the chamber at the deepest reach of the abandoned mine.

"S-stop… please, stop already…"

Her throat had gone dry from incessant panting, and even stringing words together was becoming agony.

The purple-haired woman knight—her armor already stripped away, her clothing in disarray, the air of a knight steadily fading from her appearance—Alfira spat words of refusal while her body trembled in small shudders.

Both her arms were bound together above her head, and her legs had been forced shoulder-width apart. Though her piteous figure was like that of a prisoner chained in a cell, what those who saw her would feel was not pity but lasciviousness.

Her wet clothing clung to her skin, and her entire body glistened with moisture. Her hair was no exception; her beautiful purple hair had clumped together wet, and a single strand of it clung to her cheek. Any way one looked at it, she seemed to have been strung up—yet the way she kept letting out sweet, ragged breaths made it clear that what she felt was not pain but something else—a body-scorching pleasure welling up from within.

The gauntlets that guarded her bound arms from the elbows down, and the greaves that guarded her legs from the knees down, were all that remained of her former knighthood.

The eyes that had once been lit with the fire of strong will were now moist with heat, and weak tears pooled at their corners, ran down her cheeks, then pooled again. Her skin was flushed, her breathing disordered, and the legs that were supposed to support her body had no strength left in them. Anyone could see that, were the bindings on her arms released, not only would she be unable to run away—she would scarcely be able to stand.

Her top had been pushed up far enough to expose her chest, and even her unsexy, thick trousers had been pulled down to her knees. Her underwear, which should have hidden her crotch, had suffered the same fate; the place that most ought to have been concealed lay exposed to the shaft of sunlight beaming down through the hole in the ceiling. Her pubic hair too was wet with her own love juices—and with another fluid besides—and was plastered against her crotch.

She had no leeway left to feel shame about that.

She tried somehow to settle her ragged breath by closing her mouth and swallowing, but the violent pounding of her heart at once forced her mouth open again, and a sweet sigh slipped out. That was unbearably mortifying, and she bit her lip to hold back the sob trying to escape.

"Ah, ah… uu. Stop… it."

The weak words slipped from her.

Her gaze went to the black mucus that covered her chest.

The murky mucus covered Alfira's ample bosom as if it possessed a will of its own, yet it allowed her white skin to peek through ever so slightly. Precisely because it did not conceal her completely, she was forced to confront her present state all the more, and Alfira was on the verge of tears.

She told herself she must not cry, but—

"Ngh, nguu… no, please…"

Within that mucus, the tips of her breasts—her nipples, which until now had hidden inside her areolae—were jutting out so sharply it looked painful.

Inverted nipples.

The secret Alfira most desperately wished to hide had been laid bare under the light of day, and was now being made to function admirably as one of her erogenous zones. The mucus was only covering her chest, and yet the breasts within it changed shape as if of their own will.

They sagged, deformed, but her well-trained body's firm elasticity tried to return them to their original form. And when the soft excess flesh—flesh that, as a woman she could be proud of, but as a knight she should have been ashamed of—quivered and returned to its original shape, it was again reshaped within the Black Ooze's mucus.

The same thing, over and over. Her breasts, toyed with like playthings within the mucus, sent entirely different stimuli to Alfira's brain with each shift. And the same was true of her nipples, which, like her breasts, were wrapped in the mucus.

Alfira too was a woman. She had masturbated several times before, but even then she had never touched the sensitive nipples that were now being stretched within the mucus, pinched, tickled, licked and sucked. The instant they were forced back to the inverted state Alfira knew so well, the mucus that had crept into her areolae would tug the hidden nipples back out. And just when she thought it would stop, like an orchestra's conductor wielding his baton, it would whip them up, down, left and right.

It seemed her enlarged nipples were easy to play with; the moment they were bent as if to snap the hardened, jutting things, pain and pleasure burst inside her at the same time.

"Hmph, hmph…"

Short, ragged hot breath leaked from her nose. Her chest had been fondled any number of times by now, and she had even climaxed from it more than once. Even so, Alfira's voluptuous, soft body would not grow used to pleasure from her chest, and she kept letting out sweet sighs. Even when she clamped her lips shut, sweet breath would still slip through the gap.

She tried to twist her body to escape the stimulation, but Alfira had no stamina left for even that.

She had walked through the abandoned mine, fought monsters, been violated, had her virginity stolen.

The abnormal situation had withered the woman knight's stamina and willpower.

Bound this thoroughly, even her will to resist seemed about to vanish. How much longer she could keep voicing her words of refusal aloud—each time she thought of it, she shook her head from side to side.

What would happen if she gave up—Alfira had seen the result with her own eyes.

That was precisely why she rejected that conclusion so strongly. That alone, she didn't want. It frightened her. As a knight, she would fight monsters and villains and scatter her life in battle. Death was frightening, but she had learned there were things more frightening still.

More frightening than having her knightly pride defiled—being violated by a monster, made to pant, made into a woman who only craved pleasure.

Just from watching the two who had bared their bodies before her eyes, letting out sweet sighs, she clutched to her chest the meager remnants of her will to resist—telling herself, only that, only that I will not become.

"Ah, aah."

Her glossy lips parted, and a hoarse voice slipped from them.

Her eyelids were half-closed, and behind them, her eyes held a will to resist but no strength.

The limit of her stamina.

The sight was grim; her neck, drained of strength, could no longer support her head, and her face drooped. Still, she had not yet fainted.

Her breathing was steady, and there was still strength in her arms.

The black mucus—the slime "Black Ooze" at its core—shifted its tendrils while minutely observing the host's reactions. That was the result of the intercourse it had performed since Alfira had been captured in this abandoned mine.

Deep within her vagina. When the ceiling near her cervix was rubbed forcefully, her body responded without any regard for her will. The so-called weak spot. A critical point that could not be trained, now rubbed by mucus tentacles that were as hard as a phallus yet could change into all manner of shapes. Right now, one had taken a shape thin enough to evoke a human finger, capable of fine, intricate movements.

Alfira, stimulated again and again as if her weak spot were being rubbed with a fingertip, with the tip of a fingernail, jerked her hips up while her eyes rolled.

"Mn—nngh!"

That feminine body convulsed especially hard. Her eyelids, which had been about to weakly close, sprang open all at once at the sudden assault. Her downcast face turned toward the ceiling. But nothing was reflected in those eyes. She gazed at the ceiling, yet the image did not register in her head.

(N-no way…)

Alfira felt the answer to her body's reaction within her heart, but, not wanting to admit it, bit her lip to suppress her cries of pleasure.

But the convulsions she could do nothing about, and her body kept jerking again and again.

She had climaxed.

"Ha, ha—ha, hyuu."

While her body convulsed, her tongue lolled out from her parted lips. Like a dog, like an animal, like something that wasn't human—she had no room left to feel ashamed of her own reactions. Her breaths through her nose grew harsher, and even so she desperately tried to settle her breathing—not by her will, but by reflex. No matter how the drool dripped from her lips, no matter how unsightly her face looked, Alfira had no room left to care.

Tears spilled again, and as if to scoop up the drool that was likewise spilling, a mucus tentacle licked across her whole face.

The stench of rot reached her nose and she nearly choked, but her body, prioritizing breath over all else, kept repeating deep breaths despite the source of that rotten stench being right beside her.

"Stin… kss… ng…"

There was no strength in the murmur.

Tears. Snot. Drool. Sweat.

As every conceivable fluid that could pour from her face was licked away, her brain memorized the rotten stench. Memorized it, as a scent.

When she sniffled with hollow eyes turned to the ceiling, an air bubble formed within the tentacles licking around her face, then burst.

Gobo.

A sound less lewd than one that wounded a woman's dignity. Bubbles popped, new bubbles formed, and when her body responded by opening her mouth wide to take in oxygen, a tentacle slipped past her parted lips and caught hold of her small, pretty-for-a-knight, pink tongue.

A thin tentacle, not even the width of her pinky's tip.

When the tentacle wound around her tongue and forcefully pulled it out, another writhed on top of it as if to make it learn the taste of the Black Ooze's mucus. While that was happening, yet another licked at the base of her tongue and the inside of her cheek, forcibly drawing saliva from her.

"O, oh, gou… ohu."

The disgraceful voice a beautiful knight should never have uttered leaked from her throat. Her tongue was being forcibly drawn out, so that was probably unavoidable, but it was still the most resistance the weakened-of-will Alfira could muster. A voice asking for it to stop, surely.

The way she desperately tried to free her tongue while tears and snot dripped down was an expression she could show to no one else… no, not even to herself.

The black of her irises rolled up under her eyelids, and she nearly went cross-eyed. Half of them were still just barely visible beneath her lids, but it was clear only a matter of time remained.

Exhaustion, oxygen deprivation, humiliation… and fear.

Alfira's spirit was reaching its limit. No matter how earnestly a knight had labored through harsh training, there was no way they could come through being violated by a monster and exposed to this much disgrace unscathed. All the more so if they were a woman.

The humiliation and mental anguish of having her sacred woman's body defiled by a monster was something men would never understand.

All of that was about to reach its limit.

Surrounded by the rotten stench, Alfira's body convulsed. Each time, fluids overflowed from her face, love juices flowed from her crotch, and her urethra squirted. Her whole body shone wet with the Black Ooze's mucus and her own sweat, and tentacles caressed her once again as if to lick that sweat away.

Her well-trained thighs, her toned rear, her abdomen with a faint hint of abs, her waist devoid of any excess flesh, her ample breasts, her stiffly erect nipples, her bared armpits, her well-trained upper arms.

The sight of her entire body, eyes rolling back in her head, bound and caressed by black mucus that licked at her—it was depraved, yet lascivious and beguiling.

And once again, as bubbles surfaced within the mucus clinging to her face, she convulsed.

"Yaa… uu, uu."

At some point, the movement of the tentacles stimulating her crotch had quieted.

Vaguely, with a head growing hazy from oxygen deprivation, she recognized that fact. Even though her entire body was being licked, Alfira had told herself she was not sensitive enough to climax from that. And yet her body had climaxed on its own, separate from her will, and convulsed.

By her own meager knowledge of intercourse, this was impossible. Moreover, the only erogenous zones she knew of were her chest, her clit, and her vagina—narrow knowledge indeed.

Alfira labored under the misapprehension that she had climaxed from caresses to her chest alone. The nipples that had been inverted into her areolae were sensitive, and surely she could climax from stimulation to her chest. But to actually climax from her chest alone was, to Alfira, impossible.

So, in her hazy head, she tried to deny it—

"Fwah!?"

Again, a fierce stimulus. A numbing sensation reached her brain from her chest, and a sweet voice leaked out along with her breath.

Within the dirty mucus, Alfira's beautiful breasts were being transformed into all manner of shapes. Just when her nipples had been pulled into the form of a bell, the fruit-like fat of her breasts would be flattened or squashed, never staying the same shape for a moment.

Like a child playing with clay, the Black Ooze toyed with her soft breasts.

Each time they were kneaded, lewd heat gathered deep within her chest, and as if pleading with Alfira to let it release, they grew more sensitive by the moment.

The nipples likewise were kneaded by many fingers within the mucus, pulled, even given the sharp stimulation of fingernails scraping them.

"It hurts—fwah…"

Faint pain, and overwhelming pleasure.

Drool and cries of pleasure spilled from her mouth, and she could not stop them. To begin with, Alfira hadn't even noticed she was drooling.

Once again, lewd heat swirled within her breast flesh. The premonition of climax that ought to have come from her lower abdomen—centered on her womb and crotch—was instead welling up from deep within her chest.

"No, no no no… I'm scared—I'm scared…"

Spouting excuses like a child, she writhed in refusal.

This couldn't be happening. A climax in a form completely unlike the normal intercourse Alfira knew was approaching.

Her head hurt. Oxygen deprivation, pleasure, and fear… she could no longer tell what she was feeling, and Alfira shook her body in refusal. She was so frightened, so helpless, and so unable to endure that she began to tremble like a child.

It was an unbecoming sight for a knight.

A knight who was the shield protecting the common folk and the sword that struck down monsters and evil… cowered here before a monster, trembling.

"Iyaa—ngaahuu…"

Once again Alfira's body trembled. A sharp sensation pierced her nipples and numbed her brain, blurring her vision.

Tears spilled from her eyes and wet her cheeks, but Alfira had no way to wipe them.

… Deeming even that wasted, a mucus tentacle licked her cheek.

She no longer had the will to resist.

With a haggard face having her cheeks licked, Alfira left herself to it.

From her eyes, not only her will and spirit but even the light was about to disappear.

As if reacting to Alfira's state, separate from the mucus invading her chest, two tentacles appeared and slithered up her legs.

Where they were headed was obvious, but Alfira no longer had the stamina to resist—let alone to move.

From the angle of her downcast face, she should have been able to see the tentacles creeping out from the ground, but she only kept repeating her weak breaths.

… Only, a faint strength entered the hands bound together above her head. Her gauntlets scraped against each other and gave a dry clack.

It was an act of trying to hold her spirit firm and resist, even a little, against what was about to be done to her. But more than her will, it was now nothing but a reflexive reaction of the body. A motion she had repeated many times by now. There was no meaning to it anymore. Just—Alfira had writhed in pleasure and made her gauntlets clack. Perhaps that was all it amounted to.

And yet—

"Aah, ah… no…"

Her legs spread shoulder-width apart. When her groin was licked, a small voice slipped out, and then, when her labia were parted and air touched the sensitive flesh, her voice regained the faintest will.

What was there was refusal.

What was about to be done. Precisely because she understood that it was something so shameful, so filthy, so nauseating… she squeezed out the last of her stamina to shake her hips.

It was an action meant to escape the Black Ooze's mucus, but no matter how one looked at it, it could only seem like a lascivious dance inviting a man.

The faintly convulsing motion of her hips was like that of a woman who, at the pinnacle of pleasure, was still seeking yet more.

And so—

"… Aah—ha, aah."

The hole that had been a virgin's only moments before was tight, and clenched down hard on the Black Ooze's mucus.

It matched Alfira's intent—a motion to expel a foreign object.

It was not a motion meant to give pleasure to the intruder.

"Mn, ngh!"

The corners of her eyes drooped, and the ends of her brows drooped with them. Her breath grew yet more ragged, and her mouth no longer even tried to suppress her cries.

The pressure made it hard to breathe.

Alfira, feeling both the suffocation and the disgust, broke her rhythm of breath.

It's disgusting.

That alone she tried to think hard, but—

"Aah, fwaah!"

The voice of denial that slipped out was hopelessly sweet.

There was almost no pain from losing her virginity. What there was was the pressure and the fear.

… Alfira had pursued the way of the sword as a knight, but she still knew something of how a woman's body worked. Virginity was something precious, something to be offered to the loved one she would someday meet… and losing it was supposed to come with pain.

But the reality was, in the back of this filthy abandoned mine, she'd been assaulted by a monster and her virginity scattered.

The pain she had braced for did not come; she was given nothing but pleasure.

For now, the pressure and fear were winning out, but that too was only a matter of time.

… Alfira herself understood that best of all.

After all, only moments before her entire body had been caressed. She had held disgust in her chest and kept spitting words of refusal. Yet still she had been made to pant, made to climax—and her urethra, which ought never to have been used for intercourse, had even been broken in.

What time it was now, she didn't even need to think about.

Less than a day had passed since she had fought the Black Ooze. In that short time alone, the body that had been Alfira-the-virgin's was beginning to feel definite pleasure, and to accept it.

"Aah—ngaah…"

Her weak voice grew gradually louder.

Mucus was a convenient thing. It could change form without limit.

Just by shifting its tentacles into shapes that stimulated the weak spots Alfira reacted to most strongly, and thrusting, it drew unrestrained cries of pleasure from her.

Sweet cries that forced her to acknowledge that, before she was a knight, she was a woman.

The convulsions of her body grew fiercer, and not only her lower half but her upper half began to tremble.

The quantity of love juice rose to the point one had to wonder where it was being supplied from, and from her labia, wet sounds—not merely from the Black Ooze's mucus—grew louder.

Within the quiet abandoned mine, only Alfira's cries of pleasure—and the sticky sounds resounding from the woman knight's body—echoed.

Precisely because of that, the shame grew strong enough that she wanted to cover her ears… and Alfira shook her hips.

(W-why…)

She asked herself. Her whole body stimulated, her armpits licked, her breasts kneaded, her legs wrapped, her crotch stimulated.

(Why, when it's supposed to be disgusting…)

She asked, but there was no answer. She had no room left to think of one, and no one to give it to her. So exhausted she could not even speak words of refusal aloud, in the dimming of her consciousness, she asked herself.

Why, why, why, why…

After all, in this place there was only Alfira being made to feel pleasure, and the monster giving it to her.

(No!)

"Ngnuu!"

(It feels good.)

How many climaxes was this now?

Climaxing while having her vaginal walls gouged by tentacles that shifted into every kind of shape yet retained a definite elasticity, Alfira came again.

Her face stayed cast down, but her hips alone kept climaxing massively, again and again.

Her breath grew yet more ragged, oxygen ran short, and her consciousness began to haze over. With her head growing heavy, she desperately tried to settle her breathing, but—

"Hyaa… stop…"

Next, not only her crotch but the modest pearl of flesh atop it was caught. Separately from the one violating her vagina, a long, thin tentacle wound around the base of her clit and, like a snake moving back and forth, stimulated the whole clitoris.

"—gh, —ee… no."

Even so she did not raise her face… no, without even the will to raise it, a strained shriek leaked from her mouth. The fierce voice hurt her throat, but even knowing that, she could not stop the screams.

Her hips shook as if broken, and Alfira's will could do nothing about it anymore.

The two legs that had been lying limp began to tremble too.

"Iyaa, yaa—yaaah."

Her lower body trembled. As if in concert, the caresses on her chest resumed.

Her abundant breasts were kneaded apart, her nipples wrung. She climaxed from that too, and from having her vaginal walls rubbed, from having her clit roughly handled, she climaxed again.

The love juices that should have been gushing out were swallowed by the Black Ooze, and what now fouled her lower body was only the slime's mucus.

Her trousers and underwear were sopping wet, reflecting the sunlight with a sinister gleam. The same was true of the parts of her armor that were a knight's pride—the gauntlets and greaves.

Her whole body—not only her skin but even her clothes and armor—shining wet, Alfira kept convulsing.

She couldn't breathe; gradually she could no longer even produce her cries, let alone her screams.

Even so the Black Ooze's caresses did not stop, continuing to stimulate Alfira's chest, vagina, and clit.

"Stop—ya… ahmm."

There, Alfira's consciousness fell.

She had fainted.

Lack of oxygen, fatigue, mental anguish, and fear.

A variety of factors stacked up and dragged Alfira's consciousness down into the dark. From her still-open mouth, the pooled saliva spilled, drawing a string.

When that drool fell onto the mucus covering her ample breasts, the Black Ooze took even that in.

The bodily fluids of a strong woman were nutrition for the Black Ooze, simply by being that.

The same was true of the love juices that spilled out from her pleasure. Climaxing produced more love juice, and being given pleasure made the host more able to bear children.

For the Black Ooze, intercourse was a very convenient thing indeed.

"—, —gh"

Even without consciousness, Alfira's body bobbed up and down.

The Black Ooze, with a tentacle extended from directly below, kept thrusting up into her, continuing to give her body pleasure. The tentacle steadily grew in volume, as if widening the narrow vaginal canal. The one that at first had only been as thick as two of a woman's fingers gradually swelled as time passed and as Alfira's vagina got used to its girth.

The Black Ooze had no concept of time, and didn't care whether the host had lost consciousness. It just kept slowly reshaping her well-fleshed body.

"… Aah, uu."

Whether she was unconscious or not, what it would do did not change. To violate women, to make them bear children—that alone was this monster's instinct. There was no intent in it beyond that.

To violate a woman, to make her bear children, and along the way to take in the overflowing sweat and love juice, the drool and snot. Every kind of bodily fluid.

Alfira panted. There were no longer any words of refusal in it. Her body had already accepted the Black Ooze, and yet her voice alone had kept mouthing words of denial. Now even that had vanished. What remained was only a body that had accepted pleasure, defeated by the monster.

Not by sword or magic, but by intercourse.

The beautiful woman knight had been defeated by pleasure. If she awoke, her will might refuse it.

But so that she could not even do that, the Black Ooze was drilling it into her body. Pleasure. Climax. That Alfira-the-knight was, after all, a woman.

"—ha—ah, ah!"

Her well-fleshed body bobbed up and down. Despite her vagina being violently gouged and her cervix stimulated, there was not the slightest sound of pain. That was how far, in this short time, Alfira's body had grown accustomed to the Black Ooze.

The pain of virginity had been dulled by the paralytic poison, and the dulled pain had become pleasure. That was how the Black Ooze had made it. It had made her mistake even pain for pleasure. As a result, even through intercourse so brutal it knocked her unconscious, Alfira was clearly feeling pleasure. Had been made to feel it.

Could an ordinary human endure intercourse like this?

Intercourse that inflicted suffering on a woman's body, that treated her as an object. It was the same thing Frederica, the Black Ooze's first victim, had felt. Treated not as a human but as a tool. A host. A nursery bed. A vessel of flesh meant only to bear children. Such treatment—pleasure.

"—, —…"

Sweet breaths that, had she been awake, she would have let only her beloved man hear, kept slipping from her unconsciously.

Her body's reactions too were unmistakable; when the shallow part of her vagina, the ceiling near the entrance, was rubbed, her hips shook.

Deep in her vagina, near the entrance to her womb, when she was stimulated not with violent thrusts but with licking motions, she climaxed easily.

When the tentacle entered her womb and licked up the fluids that had pooled there, she convulsed violently despite being unconscious.

The urethra just above the vaginal opening twitched as if asking for something, yearning for a tentacle's caress. Her clit had grown large and was convulsing on its own, as if it were a separate living thing.

The Black Ooze, in response to its demands, created a single tentacle thinner than the tip of a pinky.

Plip. The twitching urethral opening touched against that thin tentacle as if kissing it.

"—gh!?"

That reaction was more pronounced than anything before. More than when her chest had been caressed, more than when her vagina had been gouged, she trembled violently and told the watcher exactly how strong the pleasure was.

The tentacle invaded that small, narrow urethra. Slowly, little by little. Gently, so as not to wound her. Each time, Alfira's hips shook, and in time with the convulsions, the tentacle moved too.

It advanced a little and withdrew, withdrew and advanced.

"Ah, ah, ah—"

At some point, an absent, strengthless voice had begun leaking out.

Each time the tentacle that had slipped into her urethra moved at all, her body showed clear reactions. As if amused by that, the Black Ooze stimulated her urethra while giving her pleasure.

A place that ordinarily would never be used for intercourse.

Precisely because of that, Alfira—no, the woman—showed her unfiltered reactions. Reactions as a woman. Reactions that, even with consciousness lost, contained only pleasure.

Her whole body dyed a faint pink. A sweet scent, different from the rot the Black Ooze gave off. A sweet voice. A sweet body. Sweet sweat. Sweet, sweet, sweet…

The flesh of a woman. All of it stimulated the Black Ooze. Stimulated the will of the men the Black Ooze had taken in.

The Black Ooze had no will. What lay within this dark mass of mucus was not "to take women as hosts and conceive, to bear young, to multiply"—just, to impregnate and multiply. Or rather, that was less a thought than an instinct.

But the impurity of "man" mixed into it was reshaping the Black Ooze.

Something it hadn't felt while watching Frederica and Satia pant in pleasure was being born. The instinct to make a panting Alfira pant more. The will of a man, a male, a beast.

What was born was truly tiny.

Compared to the Black Ooze's instinct, it was scarcely more than a speck of dust. But it certainly existed—a tiny, tiny will.

"Uu, aah… uu."

Drowning out Alfira's small moans, sticky sounds resounded. Gucha, gucha. The mingled sound of the Black Ooze's mucus and Alfira's love juice.

Each time, her soft body bobbed in great motions, as if conveying the depth of pleasure her unconscious self was feeling. When her body rocked up and down, her soft-looking breasts swayed with it. The large breasts swayed softly even while supported by the mucus tentacles, lasciviously catching the sunlight leaking from the ceiling.

Poko. Faintly, her toned abdomen seemed to bulge. That was how hard the mucus tentacle was thrusting up into her vaginal canal.

Thrusts that might even have carried pain did not reach the current Alfira. They were not enough to wake her.

Guchu, guchu. Each time her vagina was gouged, her legs spread a little wider. So that pleasure could be received more easily, so that weight could fall on her vagina, on her womb. So that the thrusts of the tentacle could be felt more strongly. Her legs spread, her knees bent. Bowing into an ugly bowlegged posture, topu—a thick, viscous liquid different from the tentacle's mucus leaked from her crotch.

Proof that the body called Alfira had felt true pleasure. Precisely because there was no consciousness, it was proof not of word or will but of physical reaction. It leaked from her labia, traveled along the mucus tentacle, and dripped to the floor.

"Ah, ah, ah…"

Little by little, the voice leaking from her lips grew louder. Her breaths grew shorter and quicker.

Climax was near. From the sound of that voice, the next climax she would feel—how strong, and how deep.

A pinnacle of woman the Black Ooze could not know, could not understand. That was coming.

The sticky sounds echoing from her labia grew little by little faster, and louder.

As if reacting to that sound, Alfira's voice too grew louder still.

Her body's movements grew fiercer, and tighter. Not her whole body but the convulsions of her hips alone grew stronger.

"Fwaa—ah, auu… ah."

Click. Her gauntlet sounded.

It was her body's instinctive reaction, trying to endure the climax that was about to come. Her fists, gripped with what little strength remained, made click, click sounds. But as if to deny that reaction, her hips moved apart from her will and bucked emptily, lasciviously rocking back and forth.

The motion, as if to guide the tentacle gouging her vagina and striking her womb hard into her own weak spot, was shamelessly a woman's motion, and as if matching it, the tentacle's movements shifted.

Her chest, too, the same.

So as not to disturb the slumber of her faint, she was gently kneaded, and even at such gentleness her shoulders trembled in response.

"Fwaa—ah, auu… ah, ah, ah."

Alfira panted.

Precisely because she had lost consciousness, in response to the Black Ooze's caresses, she revealed her weak points as if teaching them.

While being caressed all over, the motions of her upper and lower body grew separate.

Her chest, her armpits, her upper arms, slowly kneaded and licked—the upper body.

Thrust up into violently, with her hips moving back and forth in time. Little by little, in defiance of Alfira's will, her legs opening wider in pursuit of pleasure.

"Aah—auu…"

And finally, Alfira's body shuddered massively. The strengthless trembling was more than enough to convey her present state; after several large shudders, all strength left her body entirely. Had it not been for the mucus tentacles binding her arms, she would have collapsed to the ground.

Both arms, both legs. Strength left her limbs, and her cries of pleasure could no longer be heard.

Truly, a strung-up human. Hair wet with sweat and mucus hid her expression, and love juice spilled from her lower body.

As if to drink up the love juice, the mucus tentacles crawled over her body. Even to stimulation that resembled caresses Alfira no longer reacted, but the Black Ooze, unconcerned, licked and sucked at her.

From her unresponsive body, one by one, tentacles were withdrawn. The ones that had violated her vagina and urethra. The tentacle that had violated her urethra in particular was long enough that one had to wonder how that much of it had fit, and thick.

The tip, at first not even the width of her pinky, was now slightly thicker. That was because each time Alfira's urethra grew accustomed to the Black Ooze's tentacle, to its girth, it had thickened slightly—so slightly that even Alfira herself hadn't noticed. Still it was not even a pinky's thickness, but Alfira's body and brain had already learned.

That this place too was a place where she could feel pleasure.

And that the one who could violate her there was the Black Ooze alone.

The body that had not responded as the tentacle was withdrawn from her urethra trembled slightly. At the same time, beautiful, transparent squirting jetted from her urethra. Again and again. With dirty, splattering sounds onto the Black Ooze.

It was a sight far too cruel to call that of a knight… or even of a woman.

*

"Mm, ah…"

A glossy, hot sigh slipped from those lovely lips.

Her slightly parted lips opened and closed as if searching for something. The way her small tongue occasionally peeked out to lick her lips was hopelessly lewd. Like a woman inviting a man, like one struggling to contain the heat within. Movements one could never have imagined from her usual self.

That woman—the silver knight Fiana, who had come to this abandoned mine together with Alfira—lay sprawled on a mucus bed as if resting. The way she occasionally shifted made it look as if she were sleeping, but her body had been fixed spread-eagle, and even her joints had been bound so she could not thrash even if she awoke.

The sword that had hewn down countless monsters was not in her hand; only a scabbard with no sword in it hung at her waist. Her armor had been stripped, and she wore only a robe with a front drape like a nun's.

Her eyes vaguely watched the ceiling, but reflected nothing.

There was no light in those eyes.

With those nothing-reflecting eyes wide open, Fiana writhed as it was done to her.

Gucha. A sticky sound rang out. A repulsive sound, unlike the sweet, hot breath a woman exhales. Even hearing it, Fiana did nothing but stare blankly at the ceiling.

"Ah, ah—uu."

Burr. Her body shuddered violently.

It wasn't that she had reached climax. But it was a reaction that showed she was feeling definite pleasure. Her clothing, having absorbed the mucus, rubbed against her with another repulsive sound. Atop a bed made of mucus, the body bound spread-eagle—the hips hidden behind the front drape of her robes—rocked impatiently.

The black of the garter belt peeking through the slit. Silver hair, white skin, white clothes. Despite being all white, only her lightless red eyes and the black garter belt stood out.

As if to defile that whiteness, black mucus tentacles crawled over her well-fleshed body.

Gucha, gucha.

While ringing out an utterly lascivious noise, a tentacle caressed her chest beneath its clothing and underwear, lifting her breasts from below—tapun, the breasts rang out. It was the sound of weighty fat slathered in mucus, but with that definite sound, her breasts swayed and returned to their original shape.

Enormous breasts, even slightly disproportionate on the petite Fiana. As if playing with those huge breasts, the tentacles lifted and dropped her chest two and three times, sounding out a lewd noise.

Each time, Fiana—this veteran knight—rolled her hips impatiently, and with an expression dyed by growing lust, accepted the caresses.

It felt good.

Wrapped in a soft, fluffy warmth, she was gently caressed all over as if being massaged. Her shoulders, her upper arms, her palms, between her fingers, her thighs, her calves, her ankles.

Being caressed thoroughly all over, she felt her whole body growing flushed. As if swimming in fluffy, lukewarm water while being massaged, she exhaled at how pleasant it felt.

Fiana was dreaming with her eyes open. Watching something like a dream.

Someone was caressing her. But she could not comprehend who. Perhaps it was not a "who" but a "what," or perhaps it was even an accursed monster.

Yet Fiana could not recognize that. She was being caressed all over, and it felt good, and she let it happen while letting out sweet breaths. She perceived it as natural, and so it was done as if it were natural.

She harbored no question about it, and while feeling her breath growing hot and sweet by the moment, she trembled. Because it was natural.

"—ha, aah—aah… ah."

Spilling out. Sweet and hot. Hot and sweet. A woman's breath.

To make that breath come out, the Black Ooze caressed Fiana. A body not as petite as Satia's, yet petite all the same—but more than Satia, with a well-fleshed body that rivaled Frederica's. Caressing it, melting it.

To call it a defeat would not be quite right. But it was also a fact that, even briefly, the Black Ooze had been incapacitated. No matter how slight the effect, the Black Ooze did not forget. It remembered.

So, just as with Frederica, just as with Satia. The optimal means to turn a strong woman who had visited this abandoned mine into a nursery bed. The sole means a Black Ooze that had eaten a man possessed.

That was experience. The knowledge of a man, used to break a woman, impregnate her, make her give birth—that experience. It would use that to obtain Fiana.

To obtain the strong host that was Fiana. To make her bear strong children. So that she would not resist, it dulled her consciousness with magic, made her respond truthfully to her instincts, and drilled pleasure into her.

Slowly. Surely.

The Black Ooze had no concept of time. Whether it was now morning or night, it knew as knowledge but considered it irrelevant. Or rather, that line of thinking didn't exist in it to begin with.

It just, ceaselessly, drilled pleasure into the bodies of Fiana and the other woman knight, Alfira. For hours, for days, for weeks. Until they could bear children. And then, so that they would keep bearing children. The Black Ooze placidly repeated its actions.

Loosening that well-trained body softly, scorching it with lewd heat, melting it with pleasure.

"Mn—nguu…"

While Fiana let out sweet breath… small, but unmistakably, her hips trembled.

Once again, she had reached a small climax.

A nasal, sweet breath. Her breath was ragged, shallow, fast—clearly growing harsher. Little by little, little by little. Fiana's body was beginning to accept the Black Ooze.

The change was slight, but the more time passed the more apparent it became. The interval between her hips' trembles grew shorter, and her whole body began to rock impatiently. As her body, fixed spread-eagle on the mucus bed, began to shift, her breaths grew harsher.

And again, her hips trembled slightly.

The same thing, over and over.

For Fiana, who had a mature body, this must have amounted to torture by denial. Even for the not-yet-mature Satia, it was a caress that had left her crying as she begged for mercy.

Despite her unconsciousness, in response to caresses that were like a kind of torture, Fiana's body—rather than her will—moved as if begging for pleasure. The hands shielded by gauntlets were tightly clenched, and her toes, within her greaves, opened and closed, opened and closed.

"Ah—there…"

Unconsciously, Fiana murmured.

It was directed at the action of the tentacle that had been playing the game of lifting and dropping her breasts.

A faint protrusion was rising at the tips of her chest, where the wet clothing and underwear clung. Even through the cloth, it was clear—her nipples had become erect.

A tentacle brushed against the tip. Just from being brushed through thick clothing, Fiana showed a marked reaction. Her overly ample breasts were, it seemed, correspondingly sensitive.

The Black Ooze, exactly as Fiana asked, pushed the protrusion—clearly erect through her clothes—inward.

"Mngh."

The tip of the tentacle sank into the soft, large breast. When her nipple was pushed inward into that twin-mountain, Fiana arched her body as if begging for more.

She struck a posture as if thrusting her chest forward, and the legs that had been bound spread-eagle spread wider by Fiana's own will. The underwear hidden by the front drape, and the crotch beneath it, could not be seen, but precisely because she was clothed, the lasciviousness made her seek out further pleasure.

She spread her legs wide, thrust her chest out, and her mouth proclaimed the pleasure.

Still her eyes did not regain their light. While vaguely watching the ceiling, Fiana straightforwardly conveyed her own state to the Black Ooze.

A place that felt good. That this was pleasurable. To please make her feel even better.

Yet even when she answered honestly, the Black Ooze's actions stayed as fixed as before.

The wordless monster, by instinct alone, kept reshaping the host called Fiana.

"Ah—ahn, afn."

The trembling of her body grew larger. Her chest, her shoulders, her armpits. Just from being kneaded there, climax drew nearer.

Fluffy, in a dreamlike state of mind, even before the accursed monster Fiana made no attempt to hide her pleasure, and with her body conveyed that climax was near.

The Black Ooze too did not stop stroking her soft body, leaving things as they were.

Her breath grew harsher. She thrust her hips out, and in time with the motion of the tentacles kneading her chest, twisted her upper body. Her breath, her body, her instincts—all reacted in pursuit of climax.

"… More."

In a strengthless voice, Fiana murmured.

There, faintly but distinctly, a change came over the Black Ooze. It had kneaded her chest. It had stimulated her nipples. But until now, the Black Ooze had been caressing her only to melt Fiana down. Now, in response to her request, the Black Ooze kneaded her chest hard.

"Mn. Nguu."

Her composed expression slackened in delight. Her lips loosened happily, and she arched her chest to make caresses easier for the tentacles. A faint change. One that responded to a woman's request. Such a change.

It was the change in emotion the Black Ooze had gained from finishing the digestion of new men—the knights who had come with Fiana and the others. The faint will it had harbored while violating Alfira.

But that was as far as it went. It kneaded her chest hard, but only that. It tried to push her nipples into the soft mounds, but only that. It gave no stimulation beyond, and no matter how much Fiana sought it, it just gently caressed her whole body. The newborn will easily lost out to instinct.

Just as Satia could beg with her mouth all she liked and get no response unless she acted on it, the Black Ooze likewise only gently caressed Fiana's body—petite for her age.

Frustrating. Unsatisfying.

For a mature adult like Fiana, it was nothing but torture by denial; only a shallow climax came.

Her hips trembled and thrust toward the sky as if seeking something.

And then—

"Gh, ah… auu, ah, ah."

The massage continued. Her chest kneaded, her upper arms kneaded, her armpits licked. The same things, repeated. The hellish torture by denial, repeated.

From the eyes that had been reflecting nothing, tears spilled. Not tears of joy. Pained, hard tears. Tears of sadness.

Not because she was being violated by a monster… Frustrated tears, sad over the unfulfilled pleasure she wasn't being given.

It was obvious to anyone who saw. The expression was different. She had reached climax, yet her face was clouded; her unfulfilled body at once began to buck emptily. The body fixed spread-eagle had a limited range of motion. Precisely for that reason, those empty bucks of her hips truly fit the word "desperate."

Gucha, gucha. The sticky sounds grew gradually louder. Louder than at the moment of her earlier climax. Caring nothing for that, Fiana—the woman knight who had once tried to defeat the Black Ooze—unconsciously shook her hips in pursuit of pleasure.

How long had she spent like that?

Time that felt eternal. Alfira was violated until she fainted, and Fiana, with a hollow spirit, shook her hips for the Black Ooze, given over to the pleasure of the flesh.

Into that chaotic scene, two new shadows arrived.

No, not new. Earlier residents. Two who had been caught by the Black Ooze before Fiana and Alfira. Frederica Rene and Satia.

*

Frederica, her faintly damp golden hair flowing, walked up to the bed of flesh made from the Black Ooze's mucus, looking not particularly surprised by the catastrophe before her.

Her expression held no disgust; what hovered there was something more like pure interest. Beside her walked Satia, whose expression in particular showed no change. With a doll-like face, of muted emotional swings, she followed behind Frederica.

"Heh heh."

Then, looking at Fiana lying on the bed of flesh, Frederica let slip a small, but unmistakable, smile. It was not derision. Not joy. A smile devoid of emotion, only in shape.

It was a smile with even less emotional swing than Satia's, who stood behind her.

Strong, valorous. Fiana, who had confronted the Black Ooze embodying a will worthy of a knight's exemplar. Frederica had not seen the encounter, but from Satia's account, and from the catastrophic state she had seen on arriving at the scene, she had inferred how fierce the battle between the Black Ooze and Fiana had been.

Even so, Frederica considered herself to have a fair amount of skill as an adventurer. Before reaching the abandoned mine, she had gotten to know Fiana and spent a night with her. At that time, she had seen how preposterously vast Fiana's mana reserves were. At the very least, it had been clear Fiana possessed mana on a different order of magnitude than her own, and battle techniques to match.

A knight. A shield protecting the people, a sword protecting the country.

That knight too was, after all, a woman—without putting the thought into words, Frederica gave a sneering laugh.

Glancing once at Frederica's smile, Satia, without sparing Fiana so much as a single thought, reached for one of the tentacles nearby—the one that had been trying to caress Fiana.

Onto the clean body and clothes she had left the abandoned mine to bathe and wash, she let the filthy mucus tentacle touch. She pressed her cheek against it as though it were something precious, and when she ran her tongue along it, the tentacle entwined itself around her tongue with a will of its own.

Onto the small tongue sticking out from her small mouth, the tentacle wound. Licking the base of her tongue, scraping it, caressing her palate—Satia found her hips going weak from that alone.

She gripped the tentacle softly with both hands, and while her mouth was caressed within, her hips and legs trembled.

—Looking away from Fiana, Frederica directed a slightly exasperated gaze at her companion who had begun immediately upon returning to the abandoned mine, but Satia did not notice.

To Satia, the Black Ooze was her master, her beloved, the one she served. There, neither Fiana nor Alfira, nor even Frederica, had any space to intrude.

"I wonder if someday you'll become like this too?"

When Frederica murmured derisively, Fiana murmured "more" in a small voice.

The ruby eyes reflecting nothing. Looking down at them, Frederica lit her index finger before those ruby-colored eyes. A faint light… a flickering flame.

Magic. The miraculous arts that took form through will and spoken word.

Frederica, being a mage, could use such magic. And so too could the Black Ooze still caressing Fiana, and the Satia who served the Black Ooze.

Frederica swayed the flame of faint light before Fiana's eyes. From the ruby eyes that hadn't reflected any light, all the more light was lost. Like a corpse, the strength left her whole body.

"Ah, ah…"

Her cries of pleasure vanished, and she only swayed as the mucus tentacles caressed her. Her reactions vanished. Her voice vanished. Her will vanished. Vanishing—

Though it wasn't quite hypnosis, it was an applied use of fire magic. By showing the flicker of fire, the spirit was confused. But this was something that, by rights, would not work on a knight of Fiana's caliber. So long as one held one's spirit strong and firm, one could resist this much magic.

But when defeated, violated, and made to faint by the Black Ooze, that was another matter. Fiana, put into a hypnotic state, responded obediently as if dreaming to the Black Ooze's caresses, and gave up her weak spots, her vulnerabilities, what she wanted done to her, with her own mouth.

When she occasionally recovered from her fainting and her mana likewise recovered enough that she tried to resist, with Frederica repeatedly layering her magic on her like this, there was nothing she could do. Even an elf who had lived a long time and slain countless monsters could not resist if her mana was robbed the moment it recovered, with her continually maintained in a defenseless, hypnotized state.

She might even have stopped breathing. As Fiana went limp enough to make one worry of that, the Black Ooze tapped at her cervix with a mucus tentacle.

"Hngah!"

At that, a sweet voice unheard until then echoed loudly through the abandoned mine. Perhaps within her dream she was being held again by some past man, or some ideal man.

Fiana's expression slackened in delight, her cheeks dyed crimson, and the way she pressed her whole body against the bed of flesh was something that even Frederica, a woman herself, could only call beyond all reason.

Just… thinking that if she were taken by these tentacles, by the Black Ooze, she would surely end up like that herself, she could not bring herself to laugh sincerely.

"Mn—"

Frederica, having put Fiana into that state, let slip a nasal voice. Before she knew it, the mucus tentacles were beginning to crawl over the clothing and body she had cleaned by bathing, just as they did to Satia and the two others present. Her well-fleshed body—more so than Satia's—gained more sensuality as the tentacles crawled over it, and above all, the strength was leaving Frederica's body.

Ah, she thought.

Without any intent to resist, the tentacles bound her limbs and wound around her throat.

Even though she understood no real force would be applied, she felt a faint fear. That was because, after all, the Black Ooze was a monster, and she was an adventurer who slew monsters.

She had neither sworn devotion to the Black Ooze like Satia, nor was she in a state of vacant collapse like Fiana.

So, feeling that faint fear, she was lifted into the air without resistance, accepting it. Over her black inner garment, tentacles crawled across her ample chest, winding around as if milking a cow.

The clothes she had taken such pains to clean were being smeared with rancid liquid.

Watching it… Frederica was feeling a pleasure she could not put into words. Her skin prickled, and deep in her womb a longing throbbed.

She had understood ever since returning to the cavern of the abandoned mine, since smelling the Black Ooze.

No, in choosing to come back at all—her head had understood there was no helping it.

Not to slay an accursed monster. She could have run. But Frederica—would come back to this abandoned mine. Because…

"Ha, ah—aah…"

Once she was lifted into the air, the tentacles deftly removed her boots. Loosening the laces, peeling away the leather. Even though she had bathed, they were boots she had loved and worn for years. Knowing they had grown stuffy enough that as a woman she should be ashamed of how they smelled, the act was deeply embarrassing.

"… Stop… it."

Knowing it was meaningless, Frederica still spoke words of restraint. The Black Ooze had intelligence. Frederica understood that because this slime had violated her by acting on her own words.

Where she was weak, what felt good, what she wanted done, what she wished for.

Though it wasn't everything, the Black Ooze had, over time, gained intelligence by absorbing the knowledge of the men it had eaten.

And yet, no matter how much she cried and begged for it to "stop," that was the one thing it would not grant her.

Even when she climaxed, even when she fainted, even when she wanted to sleep, even when she was truly suffering.

The Black Ooze would not stop its caresses on Frederica; even while she fainted, the pleasure of climax was driven into her, taught to her.

So—

"Wai—mn, fwuah!?"

A voice of surprise slipped from her. The tentacles that had stripped off her boots had crawled up from inside the cuffs of her trousers, aiming for her crotch.

It wasn't that stripping her clothes was a bother—it was, as much as possible, trying to violate her in ways she would dislike and be surprised by. So Frederica felt.

She didn't know why.

When she looked over toward Satia, separate from the tentacles caressing her tongue, three new tentacles had been born to caress every inch of her small body.

When they gently wrapped around her waist and lifted her, Satia was laid down on a bed of flesh, separate from the one Fiana was on. That was Satia's exclusive bed.

From this point on, Satia would be tortured by denial on that bed until she fainted.

Gently caressed all over, her flat chest, her small nipples, her hairless mons… her doll-like expression would be made a mess by tears and drool and snot, tortured by denial.

Then, once her body had been caressed to the point of melting, she would be seeded. The Black Ooze's seed. The slime's seed. The monster's seed.

On that bed, Satia would be impregnated with the child of her beloved Goshujin-sama, and bear it.

Knowing it, Satia uneasily watched the tentacle leaving her lips. But unable to defy her beloved Goshujin-sama, she would not try to rise from the bed of flesh. While gripping the chest of her thick robe with a small hand, she anticipated what was to come, and also feared it, trembled—and the tentacles bound Satia spread-eagle. Not to keep her from escaping. So that Satia, unable to endure, wouldn't masturbate herself to climax.

Watching that, Frederica swallowed, her throat clicking.

At the same time, she understood that the tentacle that had crawled up her leg had reached her crotch through her shorts.

"Uu, aah!?"

Here, there was no mercy at all.

Unlike with Satia, Frederica—with her voluptuous flesh—was, without any foreplay, pierced through the crotch by a mucus tentacle. But the pain was slight. No, even that pain she felt as pleasurable.

She had cried out in surprise, but the cry came only from her body's startlement at the mass that pushed open her closed gateway—her vagina gently wrapped around the intruder.

What's more—since reaching this place, since smelling the Black Ooze, the depths of her womb had been responding. A stench of rot strong enough that an ordinary person would be nauseated. A foul odor that, for a person living a wholesome life, was something to be loathed. But to Frederica and Satia, that scent was as good as an aphrodisiac.

Just smelling it moistened her crotch faintly, and from her womb honey overflowed.

For mucus tentacles that gave off such a rotten stench and were wet with it, it was only natural to feel pleasure rather than pain.

—To that extent, the loathing Frederica's body felt for the Black Ooze had faded, and instead, she had grown obedient to the pleasure she was given.

It wasn't that she felt love for it as Satia did. But to Frederica, who knew men, this Black Ooze was, in a sense, even more precious than Satia found it.

There was no human anywhere who could give her this much pleasure, and even if she fainted, begged for mercy, screamed, climaxed, or meekly lowered her head, she would still be violated.

It was an act that trampled the life Frederica had lived as an adventurer up to now, and the existence called Frederica—the woman her peers saw as strong-willed. Though it was true she was strong-willed, she had the disposition that, when oppressed and treated like an object against her will, she felt all the more pleasure. The true nature of the woman called Frederica, that she herself had not known.

The one who had made her aware of it was the Black Ooze, and the one who knew of it was the Black Ooze. Above all, Frederica herself had realized that there was no human who could oppress her with pleasure like this Black Ooze could.

Three days, three nights. No, longer than that, she had been violated. In the depths of the abandoned mine, before Satia and the others came, she had taken on the entirety of the Black Ooze's lust.

The total amount of pleasure she had been given. The time. It was as if infinite.

So—

"Ah!? Ah, ah, —ah!?"

She was lifted, her legs forcibly spread, and her crotch gouged. The tentacle reached her cervix in an instant, but still she felt no pain. Lifted into the air, she could not even shake her hips to escape; she could only have her cervix tapped by the mucus tentacle, ceaselessly.

Even though it was a forceful insertion, Frederica accepted the pain with cries of pleasure.

It was pain.

Even though she accepted it from her heart and her body was ready, having her cervix tapped did come with pain.

And yet, her cries of pleasure gradually grew louder, and from the edge of her parted lips—which forgot to close—drool spilled.

It hurts. It feels good. It hurts. It feels good.

The thought spun round and round in her head.

There was no longer any room for Fiana in there. What would happen to her from here on no longer mattered.

It felt good to still be clothed, too. She was being violated. She was being treated roughly. She was forced to feel it. She could indulge in the illusion that she was being violated against her will and oppressed.

Kucha. A sticky sound came from inside her trousers. Her shorts, having soaked up the tentacle's mucus, had rubbed against the love juices Frederica was leaking.

Her trousers, as if she had wet herself, were soaked at the crotch. Even knowing she hadn't soaked them through that much in such a short time, it was still embarrassing.

Dyeing her beauty red, Frederica looked away like a young girl.

But because of that, the tentacle's offensive did not slow, much less stop.

In time with the thrusts, her body—held aloft—swung, and the chest soaked in mucus made a vigorous noise as it bounced up and down beneath the inner garment. Her already-erect nipples protruded through the black fabric.

"—Ah, no, that, no—"

A tentacle, only as thick as the tip of a pinky, wound around that protrusion. Her breasts were handled like a cow being milked, and her nipples, as if tied to strings, were pulled up toward the ceiling.

Defying gravity, milked toward the sky, she felt the pain in her nipples and looked down at her chest.

(How can…)

Impossible treatment. Treated not as a human, not as a woman… handled like a toy, her dignity shattered.

And yet what she felt was not pain.

The depths of her womb throbbed, and even in the unstable airborne posture she desperately tried to move her hips in time with the tentacle's thrusts. To feel more pleasure, her body responded.

That felt—good.

"M-more… more, harder."

The pace of the tentacle's thrusts seemed to quicken slightly. The tentacle wringing her chest also gained strength, and her nipples were stimulated as if her areolae were being wrung together. Not only by the tentacle—her sensitive nipples and skin rubbing against the lining of her inner garment was unbearable.

Being violated while clothed reminded her of when she had first encountered this monster, and that too became a humiliation that fed the stimulation.

That time—it had been worse. Even though she had cried, even though she had screamed. Truly, she'd been violated all night. It had been disgusting, foul, nauseating… and while her traveling companions had floated within the slime, she'd been steeped in pleasure, unable to avenge them, and had begged and cried for forgiveness.

When she remembered how she had not been forgiven even then, she felt heat pooling at the back of her hips, before her womb. It's coming, she felt, and faster than the thought, she moved her hips as if to guide the tentacle to the spot.

That was the most pleasurable spot. Morals or dignity didn't matter. When she guided the monster's phallus to the spot that could make her forget everything, she could see white rancid liquid creeping up through the black mucus at the same time.

Semen. Different from the human kind—monster fluid that could surely impregnate a woman like Frederica in a single shot.

If that were poured in, she would conceive. A monster. An enemy of humanity. An abomination to be loathed.

Conceive.

She would conceive.

She would bear a monster again.

When she thought of it—it was not refusal but a shriek of delight that leaked from her throat.

"No, stop!? Not that, no… no!!"

She shrieked like a young girl, like a virgin maid. It was only form. Both Frederica and the Black Ooze knew it. After all—her hips happily took in the tentacle creeping up with monster fluid and would not let it go. If she truly hated it, she could use magic and escape.

Burn the tentacle and escape. She had recovered enough mana for that.

The Black Ooze understood it, and Frederica knew it, but she didn't escape. She couldn't.

Because. Because.

"Mngh—iyaaaa!?"

Her hips shook many times, violently. The entrance to her womb could not stop the monster fluid that had been released by being pressed against it; it let it inside. Worse, the cervix that had been broken in by now opened on its own when it sensed the Black Ooze ejaculating.

Slipping into the cervix, the womb that directly raised children was ravaged. When the walls of her womb were violently struck, she felt sharp pain, and her throat cried out in genuine screams.

It hurts, it hurts, she said, and at that the mucus tentacle changed from thrusting to a licking motion that stimulated the inside of her womb. The smegma that pooled there was licked, scraped clean.

Places no human finger—no human at all—could clean were being licked. It was so embarrassing, and it felt so, so good. Having places no male phallus could reach gently stimulated—just after she had been roughly handled, it felt all the more gentle.

"W-wait. Wait, wait! Not, not now…"

She nearly said "no," but the violence of the thrusts kept her from putting it into words.

She didn't know what was wrong. Even so Frederica, while panting, desperately tried to spit out words of refusal, only to be disrupted. The mucus tentacle stimulated her vaginal walls. Its shape was never constant. Suddenly it would form a tiered shape with many glans-like bumps, then move like a snake undulating inside her vagina, or instead of thrusting back and forth, hammer down vertically as if driving stakes, stimulating under her navel or the wall toward her intestines—moving in all sorts of ways to stimulate Frederica.

Precisely because it was never constant, no matter how she tried to endure, she couldn't, and if it happened to find a weak point even Frederica didn't know about, it would attack that spot intensively.

This was not to please Frederica, but to research her… a woman's body's reactions. The women the Black Ooze knew were still only four. Precisely for that, it researched those four bodies thoroughly, to use them as nursery beds going forward. That was all.

Of course there was no affection or attachment there either.

No matter how much Satia whispered love to the Black Ooze and devoted herself, its actions never changed beyond a certain point. Frederica knew. Understood.

In the end, this monster gave only pleasure, and nothing more.

That exclusive, ruinous… even understanding that the correct answer was to seek help from Fiana and the others and escape this place, she couldn't choose it.

"R-right. Right, there—there feels good."

The ceiling of her vagina, the back of her clit. Thrust up into from the inside, she was unable to keep from teaching it her weak point.

"Ah—auh!? Oh, ah…"

A stain spread across her thick trousers. From within the now-darker trousers, gucha gucha noises sounded, and that sound reached Frederica's ears.

When her hips convulsed in the unstable airborne posture, she was about to fall to the floor. At that, several tentacles supported her body. They wound around her waist, lifted her rear, fixed her in midair.

That too—was not out of consideration for not letting Frederica fall.

She tried for a moment to voice thanks, but stopped. Because, with her hips fixed, her ability to disperse the pleasure by shaking her hips was restricted.

Her hip convulsions were forcibly suppressed, and the new weak point that had just been found was thrust into without an inch of deviation. Hidden by the trousers it could not be seen, but her well-fleshed lower abdomen was being thrust up into fiercely enough that it bulged slightly. Her clit, despite not being touched, slipped from beneath its hood on its own and rubbed against her love-juice-and-mucus-soaked underwear.

"Ah, no, no… no, n-nyiii—"

Her upper body thrashed to disperse the intense sensation even a little, but her fixed lower half, no matter how much strength she put in, would not budge. Even with her convulsions sealed away, her vaginal walls were struck, and from the faint vibrations the strikes caused, her clit rubbed against her underwear.

Not forward-and-back, but up-and-down thrusts. Her eyes rolled as she tried to thrash her upper body, to somehow disperse the pleasure. As she did, the other tentacle that had been kneading her chest also moved more violently.

It coiled around to envelop her bountiful breast—more than would fit even a man's hand—in spirals, and when it tightened toward the nipple, it felt as though all the stimulation of her chest was concentrated at the tip.

Cattle being milked.

That was the movement it evoked.

In midair on her back, her breasts, deformed by their own weight, were squeezed like artillery shells. At their tips, the tentacles stimulating her nipples coiled like snakes, moving back and forth so as to stimulate both areola and nipple at once.

Her whole vagina, and her whole chest. With the greatest erogenous zones of a woman's body stimulated at once, with no part spared, it was unbearable. Frederica raised loud cries, unconcerned with the drool spilling from her mouth, and her upper body and both legs convulsed massively many times. Her bootless toes curled as if to grasp something, then went limply slack, then curled again.

Each time, the stain on her trousers grew larger, and now had spread even to her rear. Truly, the trousers of a child who had wet herself.

What's more, she was wearing thick trousers suited for adventuring. That was how much love juice she was leaking.

"No, stop—n-no… again!"

Her face turned up to the ceiling, and tears spilled from her eyes. Her eyes had almost rolled back, and her mouth could not keep up; her nose flared as she desperately took in oxygen.

Even as she bared her unsightly state with flaring nostrils and tears and snot, the tentacle's movement still didn't stop.

While thrusting in, it continued the up-and-down motion. While the inside of her womb was licked, both the ceiling and floor of her vagina, and the side walls too, were stimulated.

She didn't understand any of it.

Pleasure beyond what Frederica's brain could process was being sent in without mercy.

It was pleasure and at the same time agony, and her reason and her body screamed and thrashed. But her most sensitive weak point—her lower abdomen—was fixed, and she could only flail her limbs.

Even understanding it was meaningless, that was all Frederica had left to fight with. All that remained to protect Frederica's reason.

And so, when she had been driven through who knew how many climaxes—literally exhausted in strength and stamina until she stopped reacting—at last, into the deepest reach of her vaginal canal… into the place where the monster's purpose, to bear and raise children, lay… a hot fluid was fired.

The unresponsive upper body, with eyes rolled back, gave one final, hard shudder. As if to convey thanks, the vagina that had been madly contracting wrapped softly around the mucus tentacle. And when the tentacle withdrew from that vagina, the cervix closed to keep the released seed from escaping.

"Ah—ah, hi… ii, aii."

Frederica—felt that heat distinctly, at the deepest part of her womb, and climaxed. The heat sent into her body, separate from her own. And, at the same time, heat that was being stolen from her.

Mana.

The source of power needed when using magic. It was being taken away. Her strength was draining away.

That sensation too became pleasure and enveloped Frederica's whole body. Her brain seared by pleasure, deprived of oxygen, she still committed it to memory so as not to forget the pleasure.

It felt good. Having semen forcibly poured into her. Having her mana stolen.

It had become a habit. Having her mana stolen while she climaxed. Having her strength stolen while semen was poured into her. As if it made her aware that, no matter what, she was a woman.

… And, knowing that the Black Ooze would violate her until her mana ran out.

Click. A dry sound. At that sound, Frederica returned to consciousness and turned her tear-blurred, vacant eyes toward her lower body, where the sound had come from.

There, a new tentacle was unfastening the belt holding her trousers up. Unlike at first, there was no hesitation in its movements. The belt easily slipped out, and the trousers, soaked at the crotch like a child who had wet herself, were peeled down to her knees.

What appeared was the black underwear, soaked in her own love juices and the Black Ooze's mucus, clinging to her crotch.

The underwear, plastered tight against her crotch, made the secret place beneath it visible in outline, and even the slight protrusion above it could be made out.

Watching it with thoughts so far gone she no longer had the spirit to feel embarrassed, she tried to settle her ragged breath.

—But before Frederica could settle her breath, the mucus tentacle slightly lifted the crotch of her shorts and pierced her vagina just like that.

"… Ah."

A new stimulation was sent to her pleasure-scorched brain.

It was, certainly, less intense than before, but a stimulation is a stimulation. Her voice slipped out.

Her throat hurt, Frederica thought. The price for screaming so loudly at the incomprehensible pleasure.

As she realized it, her body was rocked by the shock of the thrusts.

Like a doll, her reactions vanished. No, Frederica had regained consciousness, but her body had not returned to normal.

The stimulation of being thrust into, the sensation of her vagina being pierced. She could perceive them, but it felt as though a single wall stood between them and her.

The tentacle moved that Frederica skillfully and gently.

Lowering her to the floor, it laid her face down. Her hips—her rear—thrust upward, in a posture made for intercourse. Beneath that Frederica was Fiana, having her whole body caressed with vacant eyes.

Frederica's face was reflected in those vermillion eyes.

In a place with no mirror, deep in the abandoned mine, a face dissolved into lust was reflected.

For a few moments Frederica did not realize it was her own. When was the last time she had looked at a mirror? When she had taken a room at the inn in the foot-of-the-mountain village, or perhaps when she had tidied her appearance in the Royal Capital before setting out on this last journey?

The face reflected there was a face she didn't know.

Clouded with lust, the corners that had been sharp with confidence drooped, her half-open lips were smeared with drool, her face fouled with sweat and snot. Truly, not the face of a woman. Not a face one could show to anyone.

—Even a courtesan would not show a face this wretched.

A face one could think that, reflected in Fiana's eyes.

"Ah—ha…"

That face sneered. Slackened in delight. Smiling, she drew her own face close to that emotion-vacated one. The lips loosened by mucus caresses parted slightly and did not refuse the act.

Their lips overlapped.

Soft, warm lips. The texture, unlike the Black Ooze's mucus, made her heartbeat rise faintly.

Frederica considered herself someone of an unrestrained sexual nature, but she didn't have a way of thinking that excluded anyone. She knew such things existed, but until now the only ones whose bodies she had embraced had been men. She didn't feel any aversion to same-sex intercourse, but she didn't have any interest either.

That was supposed to be the case.

"Mn… fu, uu."

Onto those soft, warm… pleasant-smelling lips, she pressed her own. At first, just pressing. Pressing, and when she breathed in deeply, a sweet smell that wasn't the rotten stench—the smell of a young girl—came to her.

Because she had been wrapped in the rotten stench until just now, that scent was all the more fragrant, all the more precious.

When she kissed her hard, what reacted first was Fiana, lost in self-oblivion.

However she interpreted Frederica's kiss, Fiana stuck out her own tongue to accept it. But this was not for the sake of entwining tongues. Her lips had been stimulated, so she stuck out her tongue and accepted it, that was all. She had no intent to caress.

But even so, her tongue stroked Frederica's lips and touched the white teeth below them.

That alone was enough for an emotion different from any so far to surface in Frederica's chest.

"Ha, ha ha—I feel kind of strange."

Frederica didn't quite understand herself. As if pushed from behind by an emotion she couldn't comprehend, she touched her own tongue to the extended one.

Just that, at first.

She parted her lips and touched her tongue to Fiana's. Not a passionate kiss like adult men and women exchanged in lovemaking. Just touching, just confirming warmth. A child's kiss, like that.

"Uu—mn, fwah."

"—mn, hmm."

When Frederica intentionally let saliva drip, Fiana, without rejection, swallowed it. Even when she dripped saliva onto her tongue and intentionally sent it bit by bit into her mouth, Fiana, without making a face, swallowed. Gulp, gulp. As Fiana made her throat sound swallowing Frederica's saliva, Frederica's chest grew hotter still.

She'd had no such fetish.

And yet, strangely, it didn't feel bad.

Their ample breasts rubbed together, and the mucus-soaked clothes made a filthy kucha kucha sound.

At some point, without her noticing, Frederica's body was rubbing against Fiana's, caressing every part of her. Like the perverse bathing rituals of nobles.

Having two hands of one's own, yet having someone else wash one's whole body.

Frederica had not understood that intent, and had even thought it perverse—but ah, she revised her thought a little: this isn't bad.

Even though they were both still clothed, the act of rubbing against a woman's soft body had a different pleasure from being violated by a monster's tentacles. Warm, soft, and good-smelling.

When she licked away with her tongue the rancid liquid that fouled Fiana's beauty, that indescribable taste she had grown used to lately spread across her tongue. At first the taste alone had nauseated her, but now she could swallow it without trouble.

Mixing saliva, swallowing audibly.

In that way, taking her time, she cleaned the rancid liquid from Fiana's lips, her cheeks, her neck.

It was no longer clear who was the one serving.

Still feeling strange, Frederica cleaned Fiana's beauty. To defile her not with the rancid liquid but with her own saliva, she cleaned her. Excited by that contradictory act, she thought, surely, she was a pervert.

Violated by a monster, violating a woman. That excited her unbearably.

"Ha, ha—ah, ha ha."

Something else had broken in her, she thought.

And just from thinking it, she didn't try to stop the act.

The beautiful elf whose silver hair had been so pretty had had her beauty defiled by black mucus, and now was about to be violated by another woman of the same sex. By a woman, and by a monster.

That fact excited her unbearably.

Even though she had just been violated to the point of nearly losing consciousness, just from that fact she was unnaturally aroused.

Her breath was disordered, and her body's movements grew gradually fiercer.

When she entwined her well-fleshed body with the similarly well-fleshed body beneath her, it made gucha gucha sounds, as if some special fluid had been smeared all over her body. While intentionally making the sound resound, she caressed Fiana's body all over.

The nipples showing through Fiana's white robe, she rolled with her own nipples; her knees she pressed against the crotch sheltered by the drape and underwear, stroking them up and down.

On her trouser-stripped knees, a texture other than the tentacles. A warm, living-flesh sensation could be felt.

And just as Frederica predicted, the place was in flood, soaked through with a liquid less viscous than the Black Ooze's mucus.

Just like Frederica, Fiana was leaking love juice enough to soak through her clothes.

Her lips loosened at that, and she drew her face close to Fiana's ear. The long ears characteristic of elves.

She remembered—just the other day at the campsite, when she had stimulated this place for Fiana, her expression had been dyed with such delicate yearning.

"You're just the same as me."

Murmuring, she took the ear into her mouth.

Then, the body that ought to have been in a hypnotic state shuddered—slight but definite. It wasn't that the tentacles had intensified their caresses. They certainly continued to caress Fiana's whole body without change, but the caresses had grown somewhat gentler now that Frederica was on top.

The ear.

So, this elf's weak point was her ears.

Understanding it, Frederica delightedly nipped at the lobe softly.

"—Aah—"

A definite cry of pleasure leaked from her lips.

While listening to that sweet voice from the closest possible distance, while breathing hot breath onto the ear she had nipped, she ran her tongue slowly—but firmly—as if to scrape away earwax. She let saliva drip, intentionally made noise, and ran her tongue again and again. From the outer ear canal to the hole, and back.

"Ha, ah—fu, ah, aah."

"Hi, ii… Ii, ii… yaa."

Each time the tongue ran over her ear, Fiana's body convulsed slightly. Either as if enduring something or refusing it, her tightly clenched fists trembled.

This female elf was feeling it. And at the same time, trying to refuse it. Trying to deny it.

Such was the reaction.

Frederica even so kept running her tongue over the ear, and guided a tentacle to the opposite one. Then, as if perceiving Frederica's intent—or as if having learned that places other than vagina or chest could be erogenous zones—a tentacle as thick as a pinky's tip wound around the long ear and likewise slipped into the ear hole.

"Fu, aah!?"

Fiana trembled especially hard.

Voicing surprise, her eyes that ought to have reflected nothing widened.

"Wh-what!? What are you doing!?"

The hypnosis had broken.

Whether the stimulation had been too strong, or whether her mana had recovered enough that Frederica couldn't keep up. Either way, the worst possible outcome—for Fiana.

"N-no!? Wh-what!?"

Without understanding her situation, she tried to thrash her bound limbs, but she couldn't. Where she was, what was being done to her, what kind of situation she was in.

Without understanding any of it, she had her ear—still responsive even during hypnosis—caressed.

It was unbearable. The body the Black Ooze's caresses had built up, with stimulation to her ear added on top.

Frederica, seeing Fiana—an utterly unwinnable opponent for her, in a sense a cloud-above existence—confused and thrashing, felt an emotion she couldn't put into words… an emotion that resembled happiness.

The absolute knight, pinned down by her own hands, made to pant. Such an unreal sight.

Excited by that, with her chest pounding, she ran her tongue along the ear. At the same time, she ran her fingers over the body and stimulated her all over, and with both hands stimulated what most drew the eye—the huge breasts disproportionate to Fiana's height.

She kneaded them upward from below, and pinched the nipples—erect enough to show clearly even through the clothes—between her fingers.

"Ah!?"

Just from that, Fiana's body convulsed strongly.

Frederica was an adult, but even so they were huge breasts that wouldn't fit in her hand. No, they were ample breasts that wouldn't fit even in a man's well-trained hand. When she put strength into her ten fingers, they sank in as if into a soft material, but when she relaxed her grip they sprang back to their original shape. Even through the clothes and underwear their softness was clear enough, and she couldn't help imagining how soft they'd be if she stripped them bare and kneaded them.

Then the leg she had wedged between Fiana's two legs was clamped tight between them.

When she looked at Fiana, she still didn't understand her situation and was confused.

In other words, this was a natural reaction. To the caress of ear and chest, her legs—her lower half—had responded.

Perceiving that, Frederica lifted her knee slightly and pressed it against the crotch.

"—Uah… ah."

Whether by good luck or bad. The knee had stimulated not only the crotch but the clit above it. Fiana let out a small voice and trembled at the hips.

The reaction was amusing, and while caressing her ear with her tongue, her chest with her hands, she stimulated her crotch with her knee.

"No, stop—w-what… stop it!?"

Confused, Fiana raised a loud voice. No, it was not just confusion, but a voice with fear in it. Thrashing her bound limbs, she struggled to somehow escape.

But no matter how trained a knight she was, in the end she was just a woman; Fiana's strength was no match for the Black Ooze's bindings, and on top of that, Frederica had joined in.

Rather, the more she thrashed, the more she stimulated Frederica's sadistic streak, and the caresses grew fiercer. Frantically she was fondled at the chest while her ear was licked with a tongue, to the point one couldn't tell if she was thrashing or convulsing.

That her lower body was undulating with pleasure, and that she was pressing her crotch against Frederica's knee in pursuit of yet more pleasure, Fiana herself didn't notice.

"Heh heh—so you really are just a woman."

See, with a faint—but for Fiana, devastating—intent, the warm, wet tongue was inserted into her ear hole. At the same time, the Black Ooze's tentacle reached her opposite ear hole—and the most sensitive place of all, her crotch.

"Hi!? No—"

At the sensation of something crawling up over the stocking suspended by garter belt, stimulating calf and thigh as it rose, Fiana screamed.

Something was crawling up her lower body. Even confused, she could perceive at least that.

A strained scream slipped from the knight who had once cornered the Black Ooze.

Then, at last, those red eyes captured Frederica. The eyes that evoked pretty rubies—just before, clouded with lust—now reflected the strong-willed smile of the female magus she knew well.

"F-Frederi…"

She tried to speak her name, but mercilessly, the Black Ooze's tentacle pressed its tip against Fiana's crotch.

"Wh-what is this!? This, this!?"

She looked down at the knight's face—showing reactions far too unreliable for a knight, more like a woman's. Her expression was a tangle of confusion and fear; one couldn't tell where her true feelings lay.

But it wasn't a face that suggested she was feeling pleasure.

Of course not.

To feel pleasure in a situation like this… why, that would be perverse.

Precisely for that reason, overlapping her past self with Fiana, Frederica's lips loosened. With one ear free, Fiana looked up at her.

"Frederica-san…"

Feeling that gaze, Frederica brought her mouth close to Fiana's ear.

Wary perhaps that her ear would be licked again, Fiana stiffened.

"You're going to bear monsters together with us, here."

But that was what Frederica said. At the same time, another tentacle lifted the drape that had hidden her underwear.

What appeared was a thin-fabric white pair of shorts, decorated with extravagant embroidery. Tied on both sides with strings—a shape made to stimulate the masculine viewer's lust more than necessary.

The kind of provocative underwear worn by nobles or by a woman with a mature body like Frederica's. Of course it was unsuited to adventuring, and was probably a bit too expensive for a knight to wear.

The bottom of those shorts—the crotch—had already grown transparent from the caresses and the stimulation of the mucus tentacles.

The pubic hair was the same silver as her head, and—perhaps because she hadn't tended to it during the journey—was untrimmed.

Sensing that her most private place was in such a state, perceiving what state her lower body was in, Fiana's struggling grew fiercer. Of course, no amount of struggling was going to break her bindings.

Frederica's black and Fiana's white shorts swayed left and right as if inviting a man. The shorts, soaked with rancid liquid and love juice, clung to their lower bodies and made their shapes apparent, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Ah—"

In contrast to the struggling Fiana, Frederica let out an expectant, sweet voice.

The crotch of the shorts that hid her lower body had been shifted aside by a tentacle.

At the same time, Fiana's white shorts were also shifted aside. The thick pubic hair, and the crotch leaking honey from the long caresses, became fully visible.

"Hi… wh-what… what are you going to do!?"

Bravely—at least, Fiana intended to be brave—she directed her voice at Frederica. But the one she directed it at, as if to say Fiana doesn't matter anymore, dyed her expression with lust and narrowed her eyes.

To endure what was about to happen, she set the hand that had been kneading Fiana's chest down on the ground, supporting herself. When she slipped her hips between Fiana's legs, Fiana, unable to close them, was bewildered.

She was bound by tentacles even without that, but—this way, she could indulge the illusion of trampling this elven knight.

Though supported by the inner garment, her ample breasts, drawn down by gravity, settled atop Fiana's chest. Through the clothes, even so, the four mucus-soaked ample breasts entwined… a sight any man in the world, if he could see it, would salivate over.

"You're slow to learn, Fiana-sama."

Loosening her lips, she looked down.

"You will bear monsters."

The instant she repeated the same thing, Frederica's vagina was pierced by the monster's tentacle. Not particularly thick… about the same girth as the manhood of an average adult man.

In one motion, it pierced to the depth of her vagina.

Though she had already been violated and reduced to pleasure, when she was suddenly pierced to the depths, she felt dizzy, and stuck out her tongue as if oxygen-starved.

"Ah—y-yes. Yes… ah, agh…"

Each time the tentacle pierced her, her ample breasts swayed and rubbed against Fiana's chest. Nipples rubbed against nipples, and Frederica shuddered at a pleasure different from being caressed by tentacles.

When her body trembled at the thrusts, her sweat dripped down by gravity onto Fiana. It struck her cheek, fouled her face—and even so, unable to comprehend what was happening before her eyes, Fiana stayed frozen. She vacantly stared up at Frederica's face.

That she was bound spread-eagle, that her whole body was still being caressed by tentacles—for a moment, she even forgot.

"Eh… eh?"

From her mouth came neither refusal nor disgust, but a strengthless voice of question.

No, not even a question, just a face that couldn't understand reality… a vacant sound.

"Wai… eh? Mo, mon… monsters…"

To Fiana, Frederica was an adventurer. Something had happened in this abandoned mine, but in her confused head she couldn't remember the details—so, putting her thought as it came into words, the woman named Frederica Rene was an adventurer.

An existence that defeated monsters and villains. And earned money for it. That was an adventurer.

That adventurer… was being violated by black mucus, taking joy in it, letting out cries of pleasure.

"F, re… eh? B-but… monsters…"

That adventurer was panting on top of her. On all fours, pressing her body close, her lower body shaking from being thrust into.

That soft body overlapped with her own, conveying a warmth different from that of the tentacles binding her limbs, and just as Fiana was about to mistake it for comfort, she tried to look away from Frederica.

"Ah—ngah."

A sweet voice reached her ear. One ear was still being caressed by a tentacle, so the sound was muffled, but the other, freed ear caught the cries clearly. The female adventurer Frederica's sweet, hot cries.

She nearly mistook them for being directed at her, and almost flushed her porcelain-white cheeks with the red of shame.

"Stop it, Frederica-san! This is—"

"Ii, iii… mn, the, re… there."

As if not hearing Fiana's voice, Frederica was moving her own hips to guide the tentacle to her weak spot.

She was being treated roughly, but it was gentler than when she had earlier been forced into climax against her will. Roughly, then gently. Her body delighted at the treatment, and by Frederica's will tightened gently around the tentacle piercing her vagina.

Fiana looked away, but watched her sidelong even so.

In that gaze were interest and disgust. Disgusted, unable to believe, yet she couldn't help trying to look closely at the expression of pleasure on the woman of the same sex.

Frederica was a beautiful magus. With well-formed features and a sharp gaze that expressed her strong will. Out of ten men, ten would call her beautiful, Fiana thought. That Frederica, in another's presence, was baring a defenseless, pleasure-loosened expression.

Even with her long lifespan, to Fiana, who had only ordinary experience, this was an unknown expression.

So she watched. Even feeling disgust, she showed interest.

(… How disgusting.)

Watching Frederica like that, Fiana thought.

Disgusting.

Repulsive.

After all, when she turned her gaze sideways, she could see the mass of mucus binding her. This was violating Frederica. With her bound arms in mind, she moved her fingers to check the sensation. Through her white gloves, a sticky, gummy texture. Like grasping something rotted to liquid.

She nearly grimaced at the sensation.

This.

By something this disgusting, the woman before her eyes was being violated—and panting.

It should be normal to find it disgusting. Normal to feel revulsion at how repulsive it was.

And yet—Frederica panted while looking down at the disgusted Fiana. Saying it felt good. In time with the tentacle's movements she shook her hips, and each time, the black-mucus-fouled clothes of the two of them rubbed and made a repulsive sound.

"Co…"

To endure the pleasure even slightly, to deepen the eventual climax, Frederica, brows furrowed, opened her mouth. She tried to murmur some meaningful word, but each time, her vagina was thrust up and the words turned into cries of pleasure.

Her long golden hair danced in the darkness of the abandoned mine and, reflecting the sunlight beaming down from the ceiling, covered Fiana's entire field of vision. The tear-moistened jade eyes met the crimson eyes of Fiana, who at some point had begun blankly looking up at her.

"You're… going to end up like this, too."

Twitch. Her body seemed to tremble.

Fiana, as if pulled back to reality by that one phrase, let her lips twitch.

A face twisted by fear. A face strained by fear.

Not a face a knight should ever show… the face of a woman who had understood what would be done to her.

Looking down at Fiana, who had revealed such a face, with a triumphant expression—Frederica's inner thoughts were clear.

"Like, this… knight-sama…"

Ah, in that instant. As her guard slipped, Frederica lowered her face and—her shoulders shook violently. No, from Fiana's view, she just couldn't see her hips, which were shuddering massively again and again.

From that, she realized Frederica had climaxed. She had enough sexual experience to recognize that much. But—

"Fwah!? Auu—ah, ah, ah."

In an instant, Frederica's cries grew louder. Once she had climaxed, her restraint was gone, and she lost even the will to hold back.

She bared a face yet more shameless than before—a face she would have hesitated to show even to family or spouse, let alone someone of the same sex—right before Fiana. Her eyes nearly rolled back baring whites, her mouth flung wide letting cries and saliva spill, the nostrils of her violently breathing nose flared.

The strong-willed beauty had vanished, and in its place appeared a face that even to call a woman's was undeserved—something simply female.

At the broken face, Fiana caught her breath.

Frederica's earlier words came back to her.

That she too would become like this.

That she had been told as much.

A cold thing ran down her spine. As if finally remembering, she thrashed her body to escape from the mucus binding her limbs and legs. But with not only wrists and ankles but even elbows and knees bound, no matter how trained a knight she was, the woman Fiana had no means to escape.

She thought to use magic, but bound so tightly, with a human right in front of her, she feared she might catch herself and Frederica up in it. That was Fiana's softness.

If she could have planned it together with Frederica, she might have been able to escape. Wounding herself, wounding Frederica… she could have escaped from the monster.

Next, looking for anything she could use to escape, she moved her head as far as she could and looked around.

She remembered exploring the abandoned mine with her fellow knights. Were any other companions captured? she looked around, and spotted a figure.

A figure with a downcast face, expression hidden by long purple hair, but the clothes she remembered.

"A-Alfira—Alfira!!"

She desperately called the name of the unmoving female knight. She tried to reach out a hand, but she was too far away.

That Alfira—just as she had been when violated to fainting before—had her arms bound together overhead and her legs spread shamelessly wide. She had not awakened, and was trying to recover her stamina with the slumber that was loss of consciousness. From the fact that she didn't even react to Fiana's voice, one could see how deeply she had fainted—how much stamina she had lost.

But Fiana, panicked and unable to think that far, kept calling Alfira's name in a loud voice. A voice loud enough to drown out Frederica's panting. To the elf knight letting out such a loud voice, Frederica drew her lips close to her ear.

"I, said… didn't I, knight-samaa…"

The words came in fits and starts, with cries of pleasure between them, but even so, Frederica desperately tried to convey them to Fiana. As if to render her efforts in vain, when the tentacle's movements quickened, Frederica's whole body trembled again. How many climaxes was this now?

In her hazy, pleasure-clouded consciousness, even counting simple numbers was difficult. The strength left her arms supporting her on all fours, and she dropped her weight onto Fiana's small body.

Their two ample breasts were crushed together, and through the clothes, nipples rubbed.

A single tentacle slithered between them as if to enjoy the sensation. Between Frederica and Fiana, in the cleavage made by their clothes, a black tentacle slipped through.

"Hi!?"

Seeing the tentacle up close, Fiana let out a small, strained scream.

Its appearance was bad enough, but more than anything its smell was severe. Stinking. Grimacing at the gummy texture and foul odor of something like rotted liquid, in the next moment Frederica took that tentacle into her mouth.

"S-stop it, Frederica-san!?"

"Mn—ah, nfu… nuu."

She took it into her mouth, then released it, and ran her tongue along it lovingly. The tongue peeking from her wide-open mouth was small, but earnestly tried to lick the whole of the tentacle, as thick as an adult man's manhood. It moved up and down greatly, sometimes coiling, sometimes sharpening its tip to give the tentacle strong stimulation, then took it back into her mouth.

When she sucked, her cheeks hollowed, and through her nose she exhaled the same foul odor as the tentacle.

Each time, Frederica, breathing that smell in deeply, felt a pleasure dizzying enough to make her faint. Just from that, she would not only climax but nearly black out.

Her lungs filled with the foul odor, and as it passed her nose, endless tears spilled.

It was suffering, it was disgusting… but it felt good. Tossed around by such mad pleasure, her will was buffeted, but her body desperately served. Because, if she did, her body knew, she would be made to feel even better.

Earnestly, desperately, on the verge of fainting—with a face half-rolled into white-eyed, an expression that could only be seen as coerced, performing oral service. Fiana looked at her with eyes seeing something not just unbelievable but ghastly.

Watched like that during her service, Frederica grew all the more excited.

With her nose flaring, she desperately took the tentacle into her mouth.

Then, within that black, semi-transparent tentacle, something white could be seen rising. Fiana could see it. Forgetting even to thrash, she stared—feeling it ghastly even as she did—at Frederica's oral service.

When the white something reached the tip of the tentacle, the one that had been violating Frederica's mouth pulled out.

What overflowed from its tip was a foul odor different from the rotten stench the black mucus tentacles gave off. It splashed onto Frederica's beauty, and by gravity, dripped down onto Fiana's.

"No!?"

She screamed, and narrowed her eyes so the liquid wouldn't enter them. The whitish liquid splashed her forehead and the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, her lips, even down to her throat—it was that much. Astonished at the amount, but unable to hold her breath forever and already oxygen-starved from doing so, she breathed in the foul odor deeply into her chest.

"Th-this…"

The smell, Fiana recognized. She had a number of sexual experiences. The experience of oral service using her ample breasts—unwillingly—existed. There had been a man who liked such acts.

So, she recognized it.

Semen.

The source of life a man released.

That, had been released from a monster's tentacle.

"Wh-what…"

While her whole face was wrapped in that smell, Fiana murmured blankly. Why, how, she thought.

In this world, monster ecology hadn't been thoroughly studied. Monsters were enemies to be defeated, and knowing a bit of their habits was useful when slaying them—that was about as far as understanding went.

See enemies, kill them. That was the basis of monster slaying; capturing and studying them was not usually done.

But—monsters were beings born from the Demon King; they were not beings that begat children or had intercourse. Remembering that, Fiana grew confused.

Now that she thought about it… since waking up she had been too surprised to notice… why was a monster violating Frederica? And why had semen been released from its tentacle?

When she thought about that—she truly, from the heart, thrashed her body. Her small body tried to push off Frederica on top by thrusting her hips up; she tried to forcibly tear apart the tentacles binding her limbs. With her slightly recovered mana, while watching Frederica's lewd display, she focused on body strengthening, and the tentacles binding her arms stretched slightly… but only slightly.

The soft tentacles were strong against pulling, and even with somewhat boosted strength, they wouldn't tear.

"No, no… no no no nooooo!!"

She would be violated.

She would be made to pant.

Even those alone hadn't felt real—but seeing a tentacle release semen, she completely lost herself.

Semen.

The source of life.

If put into her vagina—into her womb—it would become life. Something noble, treated with love and care. That should be a noble act. It should be. It was supposed to be. As one who prayed daily to the Goddess, Fiana felt this even more strongly than Frederica.

But.

But.

Even so…

"Sto—stop it!? Let go… let go of me, Frederica!!"

She said it in a strong tone, and thrashed her body even more violently.

After all. After all—

"It's a monster!! A monst—a monster's child would be—hi!?"

Suddenly, she felt a disgusting sensation on her lower body. Perhaps because she had imagined the act, her body was more sensitive than ever. The sensation of a tentacle crawling along her bare skin between her underwear and stocking, climbing the knee-high stocking suspended by garter belt, drew a strained scream from her.

There was no longer any trace of the elven knight, skilled in magic, who had defeated the Black Ooze. Only the face of a woman terrified of being violated, who could only shake her head no, no, like a child.

Frederica, who could only let out cries of pleasure while being thrust up violently by the tentacle, let her lips loosen.

"It-it feels… fee—fee—ls so good…"

"No, I refuse!? Th-this—Alfira!? Alfira!!"

While calling out to a lower-ranking knight for help, Fiana desperately thrashed her body.

In her field of vision, another shadow caught her eye.

That small shadow, she remembered.

Satia.

She too, like Fiana, was bound to a bed of flesh, her body trembling.

The lean, well-toned, doll-like body devoid of excess flesh—utterly clean—had ghastly tentacles crawling all over.

"Satia-san!"

Becoming tearful, Fiana called the name. At that, the face that had been blankly turned up toward the ceiling turned toward her.

Seeing that face, something like despair welled in Fiana's eyes, as if she were seeing the unbelievable.

Satia too, like Frederica, was sneering. With a tentacle held in her mouth, while lovingly running her tongue along it, her whole body kneaded loose, a tentacle slipped into her vagina.

Slowly, gently enough not to wound her body, going back and forth, violating the former slave girl.

"Hi—ii, no, Satia-san!?"

When she called the name again, Satia smiled at Fiana. It was the same face as Frederica's. The same face Frederica had worn telling her she'd become like this. As if Satia too were telling her she would become an existence like Frederica, Fiana screamed.

A tentacle touched Fiana's thrashing cheek. A rotten stench passed through her nostrils, and the foul odor felt stimulating enough to numb her brain.

"Stop, stop it… stop—gh!?"

While her mouth spat words of denial, when she shook her face left and right to escape the tentacle, another tentacle that had grown from the opposite side was suddenly inserted into the mouth that had been spitting refusal, as if to gag her.

While her mind went white at the suddenness, she reflexively bit through it. Spitting it out, she glared at Frederica with strong eyes. Though it was just one tentacle, biting through it had let her steady her spirit.

Rancid liquid pooled in her mouth and felt disgusting. When she spat it out mixed with saliva, it seemed her mouth filled all the more with the rotten stench.

"Get away, Frederica!"

As the strong leader of the knight squad, she glared at Frederica. The hypnotic pleasure-torture and the lewd display suddenly thrust upon her by one of the same sex had dyed her cheeks red, but the strength of her gaze hadn't weakened in the least.

And the adventurer she glared at—as if not hearing the voice—swayed her body up and down in time with the rhythm of the tentacle's thrusts into her lower body. Yet another climax, who knew which.

Her clouded eyes reflected Fiana's defiant expression, but didn't see it. As if to say Fiana didn't matter anymore, she drowned in the pleasure the Black Ooze gave her.

Conversely, it was Fiana—who had spoken the strong words—who was confused.

Not expecting to be ignored, she gathered together the mana that was little by little recovering thanks to her regaining consciousness.

If it came to it, together with Frederica—

"Eh—"

The moment she thought it—her shorts were tugged. With Frederica's body covering her she couldn't see, but at the cool air against her crotch and a silken sensation different from the mucus tentacles, a strengthless voice slipped from her.

Her crotch bared, with the tugged shorts rubbing against her crotch and clit. It took several seconds to understand what that meant.

"No—"

Stop.

Before she could put it into words, a tentacle entered the bared crotch without restraint. Fiana herself didn't notice, but during her unconsciousness her already-wet crotch and the originally wet mucus tentacle had made contact, and without showing any meaningful resistance, swallowed it whole.

At the sensation, Fiana, for a moment unable to understand what had been done to her, looked up blankly at Frederica. That Frederica was letting drool spill from her mouth, fouling Fiana's beauty.

"Hi!? Wh-why!?"

Why indeed. This monster violates women. Even Fiana knew that. In fact, right now, before her eyes, Frederica was being violated. But still her thoughts, her common sense, couldn't keep up.

Being violated by a monster was something she had never imagined. Monsters were the enemies of humanity, in a relationship of kill or be killed. That was supposed to be true—but unable to comprehend the reality of being violated by that monster, Fiana thrashed her body to escape the sensation she was feeling.

By at least lifting her free hips up and down, she could raise Frederica's body slightly. Just that. Lifting Frederica with her own hips was a situation that, seen by a third party, could easily look like she was happily moving them.

Not at all imagining such a scene, Fiana shook her body in confusion at the manly presence that had pierced her vagina for the first time in a long while.

What's more—

"Hi, gyah!? Wh-why!?"

Confusion slipped from her mouth.

The tentacle that had invaded her vaginal canal didn't drive straight in to the depths violently; first it went back and forth slowly through the shallow part. Gently parting the labia firmly clenched to refuse the foreign object, moving so as not to burden the woman's body, it stimulated Fiana.

It was a movement Fiana liked. Slowly broken in. Slowly having her body conquered. She liked that sensation.

Gentle rather than rough. Slowly, as if melting into him, performing the act of man and woman. The Fiana who preferred such intercourse was confused by tentacles moving exactly as she would wish.

Just when it gently rubbed near the ceiling of the entrance, it retreated, then thrust as if scraping the vaginal walls. Then again, while rubbing the ceiling, retreated to the entrance. But the tentacle never slipped out from her vagina.

Slowly accustoming her vagina to the tentacle's thickness.

As if introducing itself to acclimate her.

And on top of that, with a gentleness considerate of Fiana's body—the opposite of Frederica, who was drooling and thrusting roughly on top. The disparity was so great that the violated Fiana herself was becoming confused.

But she couldn't stay in confusion forever. No matter how gentle the act, she was being violated by a monster. Its shape was unlike any manhood Fiana knew, changing into various forms.

Just when it scraped the ceiling of her vagina while spreading sideways, it went deep enough to stimulate the area behind her navel. Then it stayed in place and the tentacle itself rotated, stimulating her whole vagina.

"Gh, ah—wh-what!?"

Fiana, having no experience of such stimulation, let out a surprised voice and turned her gaze to her lower abdomen, but what was there was the sight of her own and Frederica's chests overlapping. Unable to see what was happening at her lower half, even so feeling the definite pleasure at the depths of her vagina, Fiana's confusion grew deeper, larger.

Her hips were convulsing. It felt good. But not knowing what was happening let unease interfere with her climax. To begin with, the fact that she was feeling pleasure from being violated by a monster meant she had become broken, she tried to think again, but when her vagina was stimulated in yet another new shape, astonishment—and at the same time, short, ragged cries threatened to leak from her mouth.

Fiana couldn't see it, but her hips were convulsing slightly in time with the tentacle's thrusts, seemingly repeating small climaxes.

"Ugh, kuu! Wi-with something, like this—"

Little by little, her thrashing grew sluggish. Her confused head had finally begun accepting pleasure as pleasure. Her cries grew gradually louder, and the trembling of her hips spread through her whole body.

Her tightly clenched fists were white from the force, and within her greaves her toes curled to endure the pleasure.

To withstand the sensation of her vagina being pierced as much as possible, sinews stood out on her thighs, and beads of sweat—with a fragrant scent unlike the Black Ooze's mucus—rose all over her body. The teeth she'd clenched were not to endure humiliation but in an effort to refuse the cries of pleasure threatening to spill from within.

Eyes shut tight, chanting it's nothing, it's nothing to herself, she thrashed her arms to escape the bindings.

Her legs had already stopped thrashing, and now only worked to endure the stimulation.

"Aah, there! It feels good—it feels so good!!"

Frederica's voice reached Fiana's long, elven ears. That voice too was one factor melting Fiana's reason.

While being violated by an accursed monster, she was certainly feeling pleasure. Even when she tried to refuse, tried to deny it, the woman before her affirmed the sensation.

Was it disgusting? Did it feel good? Not knowing anymore, even so she desperately twisted her body.

Their chests rubbed, and her nipples—which ought to have been protected by clothes and underwear—gave off a numbing stimulation. From that stimulation, she was made to realize her nipples were erect.

She was made to realize her body was learning pleasure. Not wanting to acknowledge it, she emptied her mind and twisted her body, and matching her, Frederica twisted hers in turn. Just as Fiana felt pleasure from the act, Frederica too found her breasts swayed and her nipples rubbed, and it felt good.

At their lower halves, the rears wrapped in black and white shorts swayed contrastingly as if inviting a man, and into their crotches the same girth of mucus tentacle was thrust.

What had begun with only the crotches of their underwear pulled aside had, through their thrashing, made the shorts cling to their rears, exposing even the strip of skin from rear to anus, and even the most secret place—the anus—was faintly visible.

To two beauties enjoying it from various angles—the Black Ooze treated them no differently than it ever had. Caressing their whole bodies, piercing their vaginas, releasing seed.

That… behavior that could also be called blandly mechanical, Fiana didn't notice. She had no room for that. The shock of being violated by a monster for the first time had halted the female knight's thought.

The strong thought of I must escape, and beneath it the hidden sensation of it feels good.

Tossed about by those two thoughts and sensations, she breathed roughly and thrashed to escape from the Black Ooze's bindings. Through her ragged breaths—hard to tell whether from fatigue or pleasure—the body whose metabolism had been heightened by struggling poured sweat.

What's more, by putting strength into her whole body in that way, she unintentionally clenched her vagina, and felt the touch of the manhood violating her all the more strongly, vividly.

So as not to lose to Fiana's vaginal pressure, it advanced deeper, and then, as if resisting, swelled, then retreated under the squeezing back to the entrance.

In that way, little by little, the range it moved through grew. Approaching the very depths—the cervix.

By feel, Fiana knew how far the tentacle had advanced, where her womb was. Precisely because of that, she grew impatient.

Little by little, but surely, the tentacle was nearing Fiana's womb. No matter how she squeezed, its advance did not stop; eventually, surely, it would arrive.

For the elven knight, it was a reality akin to despair.

The semen smeared on her face was still fouling her cheek. The smell passed her nose and reached her brain.

It was real, and precisely because of that—if the tentacle violating her vagina now reached her womb, what would be done to her needed no thought at all.

"Ha, ha, ha—ha."

Breathing shortly and quickly, as if straining, she tried to calm her confused head. Tears welled in her eyes, and ahead of those eyes was the face of a woman of the same sex, slackened with pleasure. Being violated by a monster, with a woman panting before her eyes. At the unreal sight tears welled, and the fear of becoming like that herself took up residence in her chest.

Only that, I must avoid. Only that, I refuse.

She frantically held together the heart that was about to cower in fear. Steeled herself.

She would put strength into her vagina to delay the tentacle's advance even slightly, and in the meantime gather mana to escape the mucus bindings. She thought it, but concentrating to release magic was difficult.

When she had gathered a little mana, nothing happened, but the instant she gathered enough to release a spell, the tentacle would suddenly move as if gouging her vagina. Or the tentacle wedged between Fiana and Frederica's chests would suddenly move to stimulate her nipples, or her ear hole would be poked at—as if the tentacles were timing the moments she tried to use magic, they interfered.

"Kuu… ku, fwuu."

"Ah, ah, aah!"

A nasal sweet breath threatened to leak. When she ground her teeth to endure it, Frederica's mucus-and-sweat-soaked body arched backward. She had climaxed.

She hadn't been counting, but it was who-knew-how-many. Frederica, who had pinned Fiana down, collapsed onto her.

That too, who-knew-how-many.

The female magus's hot breath tickled her ear, and her heightened heartbeat could be felt through the fat of her chest. A body temperature unlike slime's, a definite warmth slightly higher than Fiana's—it felt just like after lovemaking, and she was about to entertain a strange illusion.

Feeling rough breath not her own, unable to bear it, Fiana shifted her body. She tried to move her sensitive ear away from Frederica's hot breath, even a little.

It was an act to protect her sensitive ear, but it drew the interest of Frederica, who had reached the heights of self-oblivion after climax.

To Frederica, she must have looked like delicious prey right in front of her.

While exhaling breath hotter than usual, parting her drool-smeared lips, she sank her teeth into the elven ear right before her.

"Hyuu!?"

Fiana, struggling just to endure the stimulation of the mucus tentacles, let out a cute scream at the new sensation. Her hips jumped, and her vagina—with the tentacle going back and forth within it—tightened down forcefully. In doing so, the dreaded ceiling of her vagina was rubbed hard, and once again she let out a small scream.

"F-Frederica-san!?"

"Mn—ah, amuu…"

"N, nya… gh!?"

A weak scream slipped from Fiana's mouth. The drool-dripping tongue licked every corner of her outer ear, and just when it had—it sharpened its tip and poked at her ear hole.

It was something Frederica had done while she was unconscious, but with caresses more passionate than then, the female elf opened her eyes wide and writhed.

Her body trembled in small twitches, and her breath turned strengthless.

A tongue peeked from her parted lips, and it too thrust upward toward the sky.

The sound of being licked reverberated directly in her brain. She couldn't hear anything else. It was more stimulating than being licked by tentacles. That was because Frederica's tongue was more passionate than the tentacles', and because the sudden stimulation had caught her off guard.

(St-strange—this, is strange!?)

She didn't know what was strange. But Fiana thought Frederica's act was strange and somehow tried to peel her away. Even with just shaking her head as resistance, Frederica, not allowing that, added a gentle bite of her white teeth to the tongue and would not let the ear escape.

"Fu, hi!?"

A strange voice slipped from her shapely lips.

Without caring, Fiana, with her ear softly bitten, trembled and let tears spill from the corners of her eyes.

She had climaxed. To anyone watching it was a clear reaction, but Frederica, equally lost in the afterglow of her own climax, didn't notice. Even as Fiana climaxed from her ear and froze her whole body, she didn't stop licking; rather, mistaking it for the convulsions of climax wanting to escape, she resumed the soft biting.

Gently, even with something like affection, she bit the ear with ragged breath.

While listening to the sound of her ear being licked and Frederica's rough breath at the closest distance, Fiana writhed. It was strange that her ears were this sensitive.

She had had her ears teased by past men, but had never reacted this strongly. Even though the elf's ear was a thing of interest, after all it was a dirty place.

They might rub it with fingers, lightly blow on it, lick it, but Fiana had no experience of having it licked this passionately, with saliva entwined. And with her sexual organs being stimulated at the same time, the act felt good, deceiving Fiana's brain.

As a result, with her ear—an erogenous zone—being passionately caressed in time with the tentacle's movement, Fiana mistakenly thought she had climaxed from her ear. The confusion of having climaxed from her ear for the first time deepened with the act of being caressed there during climax, and her body began thrashing in a different sense from trying to escape the bindings.

The fear in her chest was being replaced with something completely different.

Fear that her ear would be licked more.

Thinking that, when she thrashed her whole body to escape Frederica's tongue, this time her vagina was thrust into forcefully. The tentacle that until just now had been slowly breaking her in suddenly thrust hard to her cervix.

"Hi, hii!?"

A strained scream leaked from her glossy lips. Her ear being licked, her sex being stimulated. Her head, unable to endure both at once, sought help in the form of a scream.

While letting out a powerless scream, Fiana trembled. Not from climax—a trembling from terror. But at the next thrust, her body, long-caressed and with a new erogenous zone unearthed, immediately bared the convulsions of climax.

Her head grew confused, and she lost track of what was what.

Forgetting what she had been trying to do, she desperately thrashed her body, but the bindings on her arms wouldn't come off. Even desperately trying to release magic, the stimulation to her ear and sex disrupted her concentration.

"Fwah!? Th-that one!"

A new tentacle wound around her ample, large breasts—like two large fruits packed together—and stimulated them. As it had to Frederica, like milking livestock. But unlike with Frederica, there was no force enough to bring pain; a gentle movement that stimulated all the way from base to nipple-tip, without any wasted motion.

To a body already finished by climax, it was frustrating, and now Fiana, by her own will, twisted her body. Unconsciously she rocked herself, rocked her hips.

In doing so, the tentacle stimulated a good spot.

Her hips jumped, and then the tentacle stimulated yet another spot. It felt good, and in her climax-clouded head, she unconsciously moved her hips to escape the pleasure.

A vicious cycle. The motion of trying to escape aided the tentacle's actions, conversely guiding it to good spots. They were Frederica-like motions. Inviting motions. Guiding motions. Squeezing her vagina to feel the tentacle's shape with all of it, when struck at a weak point, she could no longer think.

Whether or not Fiana realized that the very act she had grimaced at was happening—her ear being licked while her vagina was pierced—cries of pleasure leaked out as she accepted the tentacle.

Gradually her body's trembling grew larger. At the same time, the tentacles' movements grew fiercer.

"Aa, ah, ah—ah!?"

A tongue-tied voice leaked from her lips, tongue still sticking out. Oxygen was lacking. Her tongue was dry and painful. The tears flowed without stopping.

She understood in her head, but her body wouldn't obey. The instinct separate from Fiana's will was running rampant on its own.

Even though she understood—it felt as though her own body was no longer hers. Even though she knew in her head what was about to be done to her, she could do nothing.

Scared.

Scared enough that her body trembled.

She could no longer even scream, Fiana sensed.

More than that, it felt good. If, while being swept along by this pleasure, semen was poured into her vagina—into her womb—how good would it feel? She nearly thought just that.

When she shook her head to discard the thought, before she knew it Frederica's two hands had stretched out and were holding Fiana's face. Her ear was nipped, licked, sucked. The opposite ear was tickled by fingers, lightly scratched by nails. That stimulation felt good too.

Everything felt good. She didn't know what was what.

Just—

"Aah, ah—aaaaah!?"

Letting out a voice loud enough to roughen her throat, her body convulsed. Her thoughts dyed white, and she nearly let her consciousness go from the fatigue of climax.

"—Ah, aah… ah, i, ii."

Kucha kucha, the sounds from her ear didn't stop.

"Hya… yaah, st-stop… fwheh."

A strengthless voice resounded, whether meaningful or not. Her body rocked in time with the tentacle's thrusts, and from the shock of climax there was nothing more Fiana could do.

While she swayed like a doll, after a while the tentacle's injection too began. To the deepest part of her vagina, a hot sensation.

Even at the heights of self-oblivion, that sensation alone she felt clearly.

Ejaculation.

A hot, hot fluid was being released into her womb.

While feeling that heat, Fiana shed tears. While exhaling hot breath, she shed tears and let out a sob.

She had had a monster's seed released inside her. Her womb had been defiled. While she shed tears in despair, with her limbs still bound, she couldn't even wipe them.

"Uu… fwuu—uu, ah, aah…?"

As if to comfort the despairing Fiana, Frederica's soft hand stroked her cheek. As she gently stroked her, as if confirming her contours, Fiana turned her gaze toward the female adventurer. When she did, she met eyes with Frederica, who had stopped licking her ear.

"Are you crying?"

It was a tone of voice like making small talk. Though she knew the situation, in her voice there was no panic or fear.

Violated, climaxed, having had semen released into her womb. And yet Frederica looked at Fiana as if it bothered her not at all.

Some of her strength had returned. She propped her upper body up on her arms on the flesh bed, and once more took up the posture of looking down on Fiana. The tentacle that had been pinned between their upper bodies—between their chests—was released and, as if swallowed by the two breasts, vanished.

(B-but… but, with this…)

"It's not over yet, though."

And then, she said that.

"Eh?"

In a hoarse voice, Fiana let out a question. Right after, the tentacle that had been buried in her vagina and released its seed began to move again.

"… Eh? Wh, why…"

Her body, smaller than Frederica's, started to rock in small motions in time with the renewed thrusting. Her sweat-and-mucus-soaked robe, weighed down, rubbed against Frederica's clothes and made kucha kucha sounds.

"Uu—hi, no way… but!?"

Gradually the speed and force of the thrusts increased. The vaginal hole, leaking love juice from climax, took the tentacle in more easily than at first, and the mucus tentacle rubbed against her vaginal flesh and made vulgar sounds.

Even though she couldn't see, those sounds seemed to reach Fiana's ears all the more clearly.

"Mn, ah… mn, there, it feels good…"

Already, Frederica had begun to let out cries of pleasure. At that Frederica, Fiana looked as if seeing something unbelievable.

It was a composition similar to when she had regained consciousness. But the emotion in her eyes was completely different.

In those eyes, the emotion of disgust no longer surfaced.

In its place hovered fear.

"But if you've ejaculated, normally…"

Click click, a sound rang out. That it was the sound of her own teeth not meeting properly, Fiana didn't notice. Her breath, her nasal breath, disordered in time with the thrusts.

Her body more readily than at first accepted the pleasure the tentacle gave, and gradually the disgust faded; sweet, hot breath began to leak. —To an extent her own will could do nothing about.

Such fear. Her own body, her will could do nothing about. Not because she was bound and couldn't resist. Her body was trying to accept the monster.

That—an expression close to despair—Fiana wore, and Frederica looked down on her.

Maybe, when she had first been violated by this monster, when she had had seed released into her womb, she had worn the same expression, Frederica thought. Zoku zoku, an emotion ran down her spine.

Not superiority.

This white, beautiful knight too would be blackened and defiled—thinking it, Frederica felt good.

"You, fool, knight-sama…"

In broken phrases, she murmured that.

Knight-sama.

It was a name worlds away from respect, filled with derision.

"There's no way a monster ends in just one round, you know?"

"——ah."

At Frederica saying such things, Fiana looked at her as if seeing the unbelievable.

Again, tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Different from before, not tears of sadness. Not tears of joy.

… Despairing tears, beyond hope. Her heart was about to shatter audibly.

She had been ejaculated inside. But that was once. The probability of conceiving from one ejaculation was… certainly high, having been poured directly into her womb, but it was not absolute.

But, if it was repeated many times?

If she was ejaculated into many times from here on?

This monster manipulated tentacles.

Surely, just as before, it would ejaculate directly into her womb. Her instinct understood that. So Fiana looked vacantly at Frederica's face, no, at the ceiling, while shedding tears.

"Ah, ah…"

There's no way a monster ends in just one round, you know?

That phrase surfaced in her mind again and again, then vanished. Vanishing then surfacing, surfacing then vanishing.

Then how many times?

How many times of being ejaculated directly into her womb would it end at?

While being thrust up by the tentacle, like a broken doll, she looked around. This place, deep in the abandoned mine, was entirely covered in black mucus… the Black Ooze's liquid.

In other words, this was a monster of this much mass.

… She couldn't believe it would end in two or three rounds. There was no way to think so.

Rather, even if told it would ejaculate until she conceived for sure—until her belly swelled—she could believe it.

"Ha, ha ha…"

To take in such seed—what would happen?

Conceive for sure?

If it ended at that, fine.

She would conceive, bear a monster child—and be made to conceive again. A repetition. Not as a woman, not as a mother.

Treated as a tool for bearing children, as a nursery bed.

Fiana's eyes, which had been reflecting nothing, captured Frederica.

—She was sneering pleasantly. The female adventurer was sneering, looking down on Fiana the knight.

"No."

A voice so small no one could hear it.

Knowing it was useless, she moved her right hand to escape the mucus binding.

Her left hand, her legs, her whole body. She moved them. No good. She couldn't escape.

Taking that as resistance, perhaps, the Black Ooze made its tentacles move more fiercely.

The weak places it had learned of while she slept. Her weak points. Her crying spots. Places she couldn't help but react. Not only her vagina. Her arms, her armpits, her legs—with only her chest being caressed by Frederica, even when her head couldn't think, her body reacted.

Nasal, ragged breath. A sweet voice that could be received as a cry of pleasure.

From her whole body, sweat poured. Cold sweat—cold sweat chilled from the core of her soul. But even such sweat, compared to the monster's bodily fluids, was a fragrant nectar, and the tentacles licked it away.

"No."

Her voice grew a little louder.

"… No."

It grew small again.

"Nooooooo!!"

A scream rose.

Not a knight's scream, but a woman's.

As if maddened, she thrashed her whole body, trying to escape the bindings. With the mana that had recovered in the meantime, she activated body strengthening, but the mana was less than she'd expected. The resistance was weaker than when she'd tried to escape before.

In her frantic struggle Fiana didn't realize, didn't want to acknowledge. But when she'd been ejaculated into—into her vagina, into her womb—from that heat she had climaxed, shallowly. She had climaxed.

Whether her body did or not, her will did not acknowledge a climax laden only with disgust. But still—

Climax. The moment her will was wrapped in the fog of self-oblivion. In that moment, the Black Ooze stole mana from Fiana, the elven knight skilled in magic.

Just as it had done to Frederica and Satia, it stole mana at the moment of climax.

In doing so, it had reduced Fiana's resistance to a sliver. But that was only at the moment of climax. And in her confusion at being violated by a monster, Fiana could not have noticed.

To begin with, she would never have imagined that a monster—especially the Black Ooze, a mere subspecies of slime—could use magic and absorb mana.

Fiana just thrashed to escape.

"Yaa, iyaa!? St-stop… stop, stop it!!"

Breath ragged, she refused. With her voice, only with her voice. Her thrashing body put strength all over, and her vagina was no exception. Contrary to her voice and expression, her vagina squeezed the whole of the tentacle, urging ejaculation.

For an ordinary man, that alone would have made him ejaculate, releasing seed into her vagina.

But this was the Black Ooze. A monster.

So as not to lose to that squeezing, it thrust the tentacle in and tried to satisfy Fiana.

The more pleasure a woman felt, the more suitable a host she became. So engraved in its instinct, the Black Ooze, so as not to lose to the desperate squeezing, deftly manipulated the tentacle to stimulate the ceiling of her vagina, the area around her cervix.

Not just thrusting. It spread up, down, left, and right; sometimes hard, sometimes slow—its movements never monotonous, even changing its girth, so that Fiana was stimulated more skillfully than by any man she had ever experienced.

For a woman like Fiana or Frederica, with some experience of men, it was an unbearable poison.

After all—it felt good.

Stimulated by movements she couldn't believe, at first she let out surprised voices, but as she grew used to it, she was made to let out cries of pleasure. While the entrance of her vagina and the back of her clit were stimulated, her cervix was tapped and the area near the entrance of her womb licked, but the tentacle didn't stop—up-and-down protrusions formed to stimulate her vaginal canal as well.

"Yahi!?"

Fiana's thrashing body convulsed especially hard, and froze.

While shedding tears and drool, even so she desperately gritted her teeth to endure the cries of pleasure. That such an act of trying to endure was building up her own sexual sensitivity, she couldn't notice.

"Ah—mn, mn… I, I'm coming…"

Unlike Fiana, Frederica, with a slackened expression, gave voice to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure. Not a climax strong enough to take her body's freedom, but her hips trembled greatly and she squirted.

The squirted juice, drawn by gravity, wet Fiana's lower body.

The white underwear—already growing transparent from absorbing the Black Ooze's mucus—grew more transparent still.

And, touching a warmth different from the Black Ooze's tentacles, Fiana shook her hips impatiently. Breath not her own. Body temperature. Bodily fluids. —All sorts of factors painted over the female knight's common sense.

What she had believed to be common sense until today, was on the verge of becoming something unknown.

At this abnormal situation, she nearly lost consciousness.

(Wh, why…)

The tentacle, which hadn't yet ejaculated, thrust again and again into the vagina that twitched and convulsed—proof of climax.

"No—no, no… s-stop…"

There was no strength even in her words of refusal. Apart from her cries of pleasure, her ragged breath from thrashing was draining her stamina quickly. Before she knew it, her resistance—her efforts to shake off the bindings—had stopped.

Letting out rough breath…

"Ah, aah, th-there—there, there feels good!"

She had to hear cries of pleasure that hid nothing of the pleasure. She wanted to cover her ears but couldn't even do that. With even such trivial resistance sealed away, having lost her stamina, she became unable to think.

What's more—

(Why, like this…)

"Fwuu—gh!!"

Clenching her teeth, she refused to cry out in pleasure. That was the last resistance Fiana could muster now. But her body, having reached a shallow climax, convulsed slightly, and conveyed the degree of it to the Black Ooze and Frederica.

"You, came! —You came, didn't you!?"

"… I, I didn't! I didn't come—hya!?"

She denied it strongly. As she opened her mouth to deny it, as if aiming for that opening, the entire circumference of her cervix was licked by multiple tongues. With a skill that made one mistake it for that, the tentacle's tip had split into branches and stimulated her.

At the new stimulation, she let out a high-pitched, off-key scream.

"Hya, stop—stop that!?"

She thrashed with the last of her strength, but her resistance was even weaker than before.

What's more, putting strength into her whole body raised the vaginal pressure, making the foreign object inside her felt all the more strongly—a vicious cycle. The sensation of being licked near her cervix she felt more vividly, and Fiana once again shook her hips greatly.

What she was doing now, what she had been trying to do, why she was like this.

The foul odor invading her brain, the oxygen deprivation, the unreal situation—she lost track of it all.

Her head was about to abandon thought.

Even so, her hips, her whole body kept reacting. Squeezing her vagina to feel more strongly the tentacle giving her pleasure, repeating convulsions as if showing the degree of pleasure she had been given.

"Hi, hia—ah, ah, ah."

The mouth she had once opened she couldn't close. Even when she tried to close her mouth, tried to clench her teeth, hot breath leaked from between her lips, from between her teeth.

Fiana, not at despair or suffering or such a situation, but at her own reactions, felt tears welling. Her eyes moistened, and her gaze, looking up at Frederica, wavered with tears.

"—Mn."

"Mngh!?"

Frederica, looking down at such a Fiana, let the strength drop from her arms, leaned her body, and kissed her. At a kiss from another woman, while being violated by a monster, Fiana let out a surprised voice and shook her head to escape, but Frederica, as if having read it in advance, moved her neck and didn't let her lips escape.

A kiss of just overlapping lips. Different from a man's, the soft lips of one of the same sex, the disordered breath of being mid-act, the raised body temperature, the body trembling slightly, the bountiful overlapping breasts.

While Fiana could only widen her eyes in surprise, Frederica—at such a Fiana, whose whole body was showing pleasurable reactions—licked her lips with her tongue.

"!?"

Just that, was enough to make the veteran knight—unable to become a knight without talent and experience, the knight who led her fellow knights—Fiana, tremble slightly.

A clearly different reaction from the pleasure the Black Ooze gave—a reaction to Frederica's tongue.

Pleased with that, she slowly, truly little by little, intensified the tongue's movement. What had been just licking her lips became running along the edge of the lower lip, then to the upper.

Likewise licking, this time she put strength into the tip of her tongue and poked at the lips.

"Mn!? Mn, ngu!?"

Bravely, Fiana held her breath in resistance against the tongue's movement.

A same-sex kiss was unthinkable to her. Looking at Frederica, who would do such a thing, with frightened eyes, she desperately closed her mouth.

But disordered breath alone burdened her body; in the blink of an eye, her nasal breath alone grew rough.

"Fuu, fuu!"

She took oxygen in deeply and exhaled through her nose. A foul odor like the Black Ooze's rotten stench, and the womanly scent of Frederica, were sent into her brain, and her head spun.

Even through all this, the tentacles' movements didn't stop and kept stimulating the two beauties. With even her hip joints bound by tentacles to suppress the trembling of her hips, with her vagina thrust up into on top of that, the two women's breath was inevitably forced to grow ragged.

Frederica overflowed hot breath and drool from her mouth, and with her tongue stimulated Fiana's mouth.

Against her, Fiana kept her mouth shut, breathing only through her nose.

Inevitably, such a state could not last long—

"Hah! —Ah—nmuu!?"

Finally, oxygen-starved and dizzy, she opened her mouth. The instant she opened it wide to take a deep breath, as if waiting for it, Frederica's tongue slipped inside.

She had no means left to resist anymore.

Even when she tried to bite, her own tongue was entwined with the other's, and when saliva was poured into her, it was no use.

Into the throat dry from screaming refusal, Frederica's saliva soaked in. Not her will but her instinct swallowed it. Gulp gulp, as she swallowed the offered saliva, her throat moved up and down.

A strange taste and smell.

That was the taste of the Black Ooze's seed that had been released onto Frederica's face. Without knowing it, Fiana moved her throat up and down. Was made to.

"Mn, aah…"

"Mn, fuu—"

From their lips, the saliva Fiana couldn't quite swallow overflowed and dirtied the female knight's mouth. The Black Ooze's seed that had been stuck to Frederica's face stuck to Fiana's.

With their faces drawn close to each other, they were absorbed in their kiss. With stimulation at her crotch and only her upper body responding in an abnormal situation, women exchanged kisses.

Gradually, Fiana's resistance vanished. As she was thrust into by tentacles, she could only convulse—a womanly reaction.

(Why)

Only that surfaced in her thoughts.

While bound spread-eagle on the bed of flesh, her breath grew ragged. Through the gaps between their overlapped lips, Fiana's and Frederica's hot breaths entwined and overflowed.

(… Why does this feel so good…)

It was the time before Fiana, defeated by the Black Ooze, had awoken. She didn't remember it, but she had been violated all that time. Continuously. Ceaselessly.

Captured in dreams by Frederica's magic, she had answered the Black Ooze's caresses, whispered love. She had taught it where she felt it, where she was weak.

The Fiana who didn't remember any such thing, at finding herself feeling pleasure from being violated by a monster and being kissed by one of the same sex, at feeling good despite herself, shed tears.

That alone, she couldn't escape this hell—she shed tears.

*

When some time had passed, Alfira awoke.

Whether her energy had even slightly recovered from resting, the light of will had returned to her eyes. When she scanned her surroundings sharply, things had changed considerably from before she'd fainted.

First, the number of people had increased. Frederica and Satia. Satia, like Fiana had been, was bound to a bed of flesh, her whole body convulsing intermittently. There was no strength in her expression, and just as Alfira had been before, she was clearly unconscious.

Even so, a tentacle that had entered her hairless crotch was thrusting up into her doll-like, lean body.

"… D-damn it…"

How disgusting. How many times had she thought that?

Thinking it strongly in her heart, she bit her lip and tried to keep her spirit as strong as possible against the violations to come. No matter how fragile, how thin-as-ice that resistance, with her whole body bound it was all the resistance Alfira had left.

Bound like a prisoner with her arms together overhead, her legs likewise spread shoulder-width.

Her exposed sex still gleamed lewdly from the earlier violations, and had also been dyed painfully red. After all, she had been a virgin until just before. No matter how much pleasure-laden caressing she was given, the pain and wounds couldn't be erased.

Desperately calming her breath that threatened to disorder from fear, she scanned her surroundings.

Alfira had no way of knowing, but the deepest reach of the abandoned mine—the chamber that could be called the Black Ooze's nest—had absorbed the knights who had entered the other day, and at last every surface of it was covered in sticky liquid. To one who could see it, it could even be taken as the inside of some living organism's belly—a thoroughly ghastly space.

Just from being here her spirit threatened to wither, but at the white-silver female knight, the opposite of black, asleep some distance away, she pinned her hopes.

"Fiana-sama!"

How many times now? She called the name. Her voice, from continued panting that had strained her throat, was hoarse.

The other female knight captured in this cavern with her, Fiana.

But her expression—her upper body—she couldn't see now. That was because another woman lay sprawled over her. The female adventurer who had introduced herself as Frederica Rene. The woman they had rescued like Satia was now atop Fiana, hiding her body.

Hidden from Alfira's view, she didn't know what was happening with Fiana's upper half—only the two women's contrastingly black and white shorts shifted aside, and the tentacles repeatedly thrusting in and out at their bared crotches, were visible. From time to time, in time with muffled cries of pleasure, the two women's lower bodies trembled.

(Fiana-sama…)

Even Alfira, unfamiliar with sex, could tell. Not only Frederica, but Fiana too had climaxed.

The faint sound of her voice, perhaps because her mouth was being gagged with something. At the all-too-pitiable state, the strong light of will that had returned to her eyes nearly faded again.

The strength threatened to leave her whole body, and Alfira scolded herself. No one would want their end to come in an unknown situation like this. She looked around, trying to find some way to escape.

When she twisted her body, her bared, ample breasts swayed. At the same time, an ear-warpingly disgusting sound came from the mucus binding her arms together overhead.

"Mn-gh."

What slipped from her was an unbelievably sweet, lust-laden hot sigh from her own self.

Realizing Alfira had woken up, the Black Ooze resumed action.

From the ground, climbing up along her shoulder-width-spread legs. From the ceiling, crawling along her bound arms. Climbing along all four limbs, mucus tentacles approached Alfira's body.

"… D-damn it."

Not giving up, she shook her body, but the mucus binding her, despite being liquid, showed no sign of loosening. While she cursed, the mucus closed in from her arms and legs.

The tentacles approaching from her arms wound tighter, then slipped inside her top, licking her armpits to stimulate her senses.

The tentacles approaching from her legs caressed her thighs, groin, and bared skin.

Just that, and—

"No… no!"

Alfira let out a girlish scream, and her body trembled.

No matter how much her body had been melted with sweet sensuality, with her vaginal hole having just lost its virginity, pain, surprise, and disgust took precedence over pleasure. More than anything, the partner was a monster. To be made to pant by a monster, violated. She didn't want to be put in such an abnormal situation again and again.

Like always, she thrashed her body violently, desperately trying to escape the violating hands.

Through the precedent of Satia, the Black Ooze knew this, and tried to stimulate Alfira as it had Satia—with sweet caresses.

But unlike Satia, Alfira had ample breasts and rear. That alone could not satisfy her at all—she could only imagine the violence of when she'd first been violated, and twisted in spite of herself.

A craving for pleasure she would deny, and that in her current state she would never acknowledge.

But her body, more honest than her thoughts, seemed to be guiding the tentacles to her erogenous zones with her twisting.

"Stop it, stop—stop!"

Screaming, she violently twisted her body. As if enjoying that reaction, the tentacles licked her armpits, deliberately avoiding her labia. In time with the violent motion, her breasts swayed violently as well. Under a man's gaze, the sight alone would have been entertainment; with no one to see, it was nothing but a comical dance.

At the gummy, sticky sensation of the tentacles that seemed to draw threads, the emotion that surfaced on her twisted face was disgust.

But her body—knew the pleasure these tentacles gave. Remembered.

When her armpits were licked, she felt not ticklishness but yearning; when her groin was stimulated, she trembled not in dread but in expectation.

Her hips trembled, and a liquid different from the slime's mucus threatened to overflow. Deep in her hips, deep in her womb, she felt heat. At that fact, Alfira nearly cried.

As if amused by the female knight's reactions, another tentacle—separate from the ones binding her hands and feet—rose up from her feet.

A tentacle a touch thinner than the others.

Yet writhing like a snake, as her ample breasts swayed left and right from her struggling—its tip aimed for the crowns. The lovely pink nipples.

"Gh."

She bit her lip.

Understanding what was about to be done, in resistance against giving the monster the reaction it wanted, she twisted her body even more than before, swaying her own breasts to make her nipples escape.

It was a pitiful resistance disguised as a lewd dance, but the Black Ooze had no emotion to enjoy such things.

The extended tentacle, without missing its aim, wound around the nipples, and now the more Alfira thrashed, the keener the stimulation became.

"Fu… mn."

The nipples, glossy in color, had until recently been hidden inside her areolae, and they were sensitive enough to react to just that stimulation. And, though Alfira hadn't noticed, her nipples were quite large even among grown women.

A tentacle as thick as a man's finger… thicker, perhaps, than his pinky, coiled around them, pulled them, and even then the pink glow peeked through the Black Ooze's black mucus.

Alfira somehow tried to escape the ghastly sensation by twisting, but with her body bound, she had no way out. Helpless, her nipples were pinched, rolled, milked.

Just that. Just her nipples being played with. And yet her breath disordered at once, and her whole body felt as if it had been made more sensitive.

"Ah, ah… uun."

A sticky tentacle busily moved, violating her nipples alone. The dull pain of her large breasts thrashing also became stimulation tormenting her body, but the strongest reaction still came from her nipples. As they stroked them as if playing with Alfira's reactions, at last not only her chest but her hips and her shapely legs began to react.

The tentacles licked her armpits, her thighs and groin, the back of her knees. The sensation of being licked all over her body was as if many men were caressing her at once.

Already there were no words of refusal, and her disordered breath grew hotter by the moment.

"You… pervert…"

She cursed with her mouth, but her body convulsed in response to pleasure. If it had been a violent violation, she might have been able to endure for longer. Something that brought pain, anything would have done.

Alfira was a knight too. She prided herself on her tolerance for pain. But gentle caresses. For Alfira, with not much sexual experience, it felt pleasant, and her body began to accept them.

The hair that had swung from her thrashing brushed her cheek.

Even that sensation her skin felt acutely; she hated it.

The reality that her own flesh would not obey her own will. At that reality her heart threatened to cower, but as she desperately kept thrashing, the mucus binding her arms above her head loosened.

"… Eh?"

While catching her breath, she looked up, and when the bindings were completely released, she fell on her rear to the mucus floor. With a becha, a disgusting sound, an unpleasant sensation against her ample rear.

But because she had grown used to the texture of mucus from the same Black Ooze's tentacles, more than the unpleasantness on her rear, the question of why the bindings had been released drew her gaze to her own hands.

Due to the Black Ooze's paralytic poison, her fingertips were quite numb. Frustrated by her fingers not moving as she willed beneath the gauntlets, when she put more force into them, she was able to move them as she wished—just barely.

That was because the Black Ooze had the habit of not using too strong a paralytic poison on hosts.

Though no aftereffects remained, poison was poison.

When it had first eaten a human, it had killed the elder with paralytic poison; the Black Ooze took the greatest care not to repeat that failure with women who would become hosts.

At most, enough to bind a resisting host. Enough to slow movement.

So for Alfira, who had some tolerance to poison from her harsh training, the poison wore off quickly.

The tentacles binding her legs also vanished. She was completely freed, but—not understanding why this had happened, one could say she felt cornered into an even more ominous situation.

Without understanding, she stayed tense for a while.

The black mucus, shining wet, illuminated by the sunlight, was just plain ominous. And Fiana, captured by that mucus… only added to the despair within Alfira.

She tried to wipe the remaining mucus tentacle residue from her arms, but couldn't get it all off. Beyond that, her clothes were soaked through; there was no helping it, she gave up.

The flow of air was frustrating. Her mucus-soaked whole body felt the slight flow, and at the chill she shifted. To check her body's condition, she put strength into her whole body. But she couldn't put strength into her legs. Her hips were strengthless; she let out a small sigh.

Even if she tried to escape, she couldn't run properly—she thought it. And, remembering she'd felt enough to lose strength in her hips—been toyed with—she dyed her cheeks red from shame.

"Ha, ah—"

Unable to believe the nasal sigh was her own, she bit her lip and tried to hold back even her breath. But there is no human who can hold their breath forever.

After a while she opened her mouth, and again hot breath leaked. Her heart pounded, and her breath disordered.

As if her mouth had become an erogenous zone. With every breath her brain went numb, and her body—the depths of her womb—throbbed. That was because, after being captured in the deepest reach of the abandoned mine, she had been violated continuously for hours, and her body now constantly craved pleasure.

An ordinary person, violated by a monster, would faint and be unable to perceive normal as normal. Alfira too had fainted at first when her urethra was violated, and fainted again after losing her virginity.

But even while fainting, the too-strong pleasure had been given to her continuously. Whether unconscious or conscious. The unfamiliar pleasure constantly wore down her body and spirit, and weakness crossed her heart at small things.

It manifested as climax—defeated by caressing pleasure, by pleasure itself, she climaxed and burned stamina, and when stamina ran out, she fainted. Fainting and sleeping are different. But for Alfira, fainting was her salvation, her escape.

By fainting she protected her brain from the too-strong pleasure, rested her body—no matter how much a monster, surely it wouldn't lust after someone unconscious. So Alfira believed.

Even if her body was groped during fainting, at least it wouldn't go further than that…

The lethargy she felt on waking from fainting, she wanted to believe was her body resting, rather than enduring this place—the depths of the abandoned mine, the monster's nest.

But in reality there was no such thing; even during Alfira's fainting, the mucus tentacles had been softly loosening the vagina that had only just lost its virginity, and—with caresses gentle enough not to disturb the slumber of fainting—awakening the female knight's sensuality.

Her vagina, her clit. Not only those—her ears, armpits, toned abdomen and navel, rear. Her slender, well-trained legs.

Caressing every inch of the body with no exception was something no human could do. And caressed by that not-possible-for-a-human caress, Alfira, even when conscious and clear-headed, was leaking hot breath.

… Without realizing it herself.

When she awoke, without fail, she awoke bound by the slime—by the mucus of the Black Ooze, a monster of the lowest grade that, if she could use magic, she could easily drive off.

"Damn it…"

By cursing crudely she kept her spirit up, and put strength into her arms to try to stand. If she gave up, that was the end.

The partner was a monster. An accursed enemy. An existence to defeat.

To shake her hips for such a monster, beg forgiveness, seek climax, reach out her tongue toward rancid liquid.

To keep from remembering her weak self, she bit her lip hard. She shook her head from side to side, and at last Alfira recovered her spirit. The moment she realized it had been not from sleep but from fainting that she'd awoken, the Black Ooze resumed action.

It wound a tentacle around the greaves protecting the legs of the sitting Alfira.

"Hi."

A strained voice slipped from her.

To hide her weakness she bit her lip and crawled backward to escape the mucus tentacle.

The feeling of the mucus covering her feet touching her bare skin directly was disgusting, and with trembling hands she pulled up her trousers.

Gucha, the Black Ooze's mucus and—Alfira herself would deny it—love-juice-soaked shorts touched her crotch. Grimacing at the sensation, she hurried to put her trousers and shorts back on. As if waiting for it, the mucus tentacle merely tapped lightly at her greaves.

As if amused by Alfira's reactions.

Then this time, she pulled down her rolled-up top to cover her bared chest. In doing so, her hardened nipples rubbed against the mucus-soaked cloth and gave off a sharp stimulation, but pretending not to notice, she returned her clothes to their normal state.

A thick top and trousers, and gauntlets and greaves—just that figure.

A figure that could only be described as the wretched form of a defeated knight; tears threatened to spill. But shedding them would be acknowledging she had submitted to the monster, defeated from her heart, so she somehow held them back.

Still, she crawled backward, legs rubbing together.

With her right hand she held up the trousers she had refastened so they wouldn't slide back down, and with her left, she gripped her top so it wouldn't be taken off. Like a young maid fleeing from her violator, curling her body and crawling backward—that was Alfira.

Fiana, in the same space, was no longer reflected in her eyes; her terrified gaze could only see the mucus tentacles pursuing her as she crawled backward.

Those fearful eyes would stir a sadist's heart, drive a violator wild—probably.

For an ordinary violator. But the mucus tentacles, with neither hurry nor confidence, just placidly followed Alfira—until at last her back touched the end of the open space, the wall of mucus that had once been rock.

She hastily turned around, and resignation crossed her at being unable to escape further. But shaking off that resignation, with her back against the wall this time, she thrashed her legs to drive off the mucus tentacles.

"Take this, take this!"

A strengthless kick, with no real force.

But for Alfira, it was a desperate resistance.

That resistance was easily caught by mucus tentacles. First her right leg, then her left.

"No, ah!? L-let, let me go!"

Weak woman's words threatened to slip out; she hurried to layer strong words on top and glared at the mucus tentacles.

But the tentacles trying to catch her weren't just at her feet.

Suddenly, tentacles appeared from the mucus wall her back had been against and caught the legs of Alfira, who had been holding her clothes.

"Hi."

A small scream slipped from her, and as the Black Ooze tried to forcefully pull her in from her seated position, to resist she put strength into her arms and braced. Her fingertips, through the gauntlets, touched something.

When she turned her gaze, there in the mucus floor was a swallowed sword. The standard steel sword issued to knights. Probably the sword of a knight that had been swallowed by the Black Ooze.

When she reached toward the sword floating in the dim mucus, as if to disrupt her the tentacles binding her legs added force. She was pulled away from the sword, but somehow braced herself and, on arm strength alone, crawled toward it.

Lying face-down, she released the hand holding her trousers and hooked her fingertips on a rocky protrusion beneath the mucus. Putting strength into them, she was able to resist the tentacles pulling her.

For now, she breathed a sigh of relief. But there was no time to be at ease.

Now, the trousers she had left unresisted were wound around by a tentacle and pulled down in one motion. As before, her skin was exposed to the knees. The only thing guarding her shamed crotch was a plain black pair of shorts. Something she had prepared because stains wouldn't show, with not a scrap of femininity to them.

Realizing her trousers had been pulled down, Alfira's cheeks dyed with shame rather than anger.

"L-let go!!"

When she struggled to thrash her legs, her ample breasts swayed greatly under the mucus-soaked clothing plastered to her skin.

The wet top conveyed every movement, and even showed the shadows of her stiff nipples atop them.

Her ample, undulating breasts, and the nipples that felt sweet at every shock. Even just that, the body that took as ticklish pleasure, she resented.

In Alfira's eyes, tears welled.

Even though she'd trained as a knight, Alfira was still a woman. Having her virginity stolen by a monster, being violated. Her spirit was not strong enough to endure that completely. When, where, the final line—the thread of her tension—might snap, was no surprise.

To that knight's sword that would surely become her final line—sunk into the mucus—she reached. Toward the brave Alfira's defenseless rear, a tentacle stretched out.

Focused only on the sword, Alfira didn't notice. She just desperately, earnestly, as if grasping her final hope, reached for it.

Little by little, she could see her fingertips approaching the sword. Just a little more. Just a little. The arm resisting the tentacles' force, opposite the one reaching, trembled in small twitches. From too much strain her face went red. She held her breath, resisted desperately—still, the Black Ooze didn't relent.

To further humiliate the Alfira showing such will of resistance, a thin tentacle hooked itself on the left and right sides of her last bastion—the black shorts.

Though she would deny it strongly, at the now-familiar disgusting sensation a shiver ran down her spine. Wondering what would be done to her next, but without moving her gaze from the sword, she clenched her teeth.

No matter what was done to her—the sword. With that will she reached, and the shorts were pulled down at the same moment.

Her bountiful, well-fleshed rear was exposed. White skin without a single blemish, a shape toned by years of training. A peerless rear was bared, but Alfira didn't even let out a scream.

She bit down harder on her clenched teeth to suppress the shame.

She felt it. Couldn't help but feel it.

Her rear was being seen. Made strongly to be aware of it.

Even so she desperately reached for the sword, and her fingertips touched the hilt. But at the same time, the well-shaped rear was pulled apart by several tentacles. What peeked out was a place even more secret than the crotch. Her anus. A place no one else—not even herself—ever saw.

Surrounding it was white skin untouched by sun, but the place itself was a muted brown. With her twin cheeks spread wide enough that the wrinkles could be counted, a cry of refusal threatened to slip from her mouth.

Sounding her throat, she swallowed it. At last, her hand grasped the sword.

It didn't mean anything would change. But even so—a weapon, something to resist with, had reached her hand. Her guard slipped. Slipped completely.

In that instant, force was added to the tentacles gripping her legs. With the spirit-slackened Alfira's arms, she couldn't resist, and was pulled back to her original place in one motion.

"Kyah!?"

With a country-girl scream, Alfira slid across the mucus. The sword she'd grasped, she did not let go.

She held it to her chest, more precious to her than her own life, but unable to resist she was pulled by the tentacles. With the momentum, the trousers that had been pulled down covered her thighs.

Where she had been pulled to was near the bed of flesh where Fiana and Frederica overlapped.

Beside it was the bed where Satia was bound.

—From here on, the four of them would be violated together.

Without it being put into words, she understood, and Frederica looked at Alfira. Drained from climaxing repeatedly, leaning her whole weight on the Fiana beneath her, shoulders shaking with breath. That she looked so exhausted was because she'd been made to pant so much in pleasure. The faintly satisfied look in her expression was, to Alfira, frightening.

Fiana…

"Alfira, with that sword, cut the mucus…"

Recognizing the sword in Alfira's hand, she said it in a strengthless voice. But in that voice, there was still strength of will. Not yet sunken into despair, a voice that held hope.

As told, she gripped the sword in her right hand so as not to drop it. But a tentacle entwined around the blade and tried to take the sword from her.

The tentacle entwined around the blade froze in an instant. What she had thought was an issued knight's sword was actually… a sword Fiana had held—one in which Fiana's mana still remained.

It had retained its mana, and that was precisely why the Black Ooze had kept it inside itself, trying to absorb the mana. The mana-less standard knight's armor and Alfira's sword had been discarded somewhere in the abandoned mine.

It was fortunate. It might have been called a miracle.

Once she realized the knight's sword held freezing mana, Alfira acted quickly.

She swung the sword and first froze the tentacle binding her leg, then shattered it. Once her legs were free, she cut through the mucus binding Fiana's right wrist. As expected, that mucus froze and shattered.

In that instant, the Black Ooze, recognizing that harm would reach Frederica, lifted her to protect her. In that same instant, before the delayed tentacles deeper in the cavern could move, Alfira crawled on her strengthless lower half toward Fiana and pointed the sword tip at the tentacle binding her elbow. Fiana put strength into it and shattered the frozen mucus.

"The sword—!!"

Strength entered her voice.

Until just moments ago she had been despairing while panting in pleasure, but when hope drew near, strength beyond ordinary welled up.

Fiana, with the sword gripped in her freed right hand, froze the mucus on her left arm and shattered it, then with the fatigue-dulled sword tip freed both legs.

It was only at that stage that the Black Ooze finally began to act. Around Fiana and Alfira, countless tentacles appeared. Looking at them, Fiana noticed that Frederica and Satia were no longer nearby. The tentacle response had been delayed in order to move those two further away.

"Alfira, can you run!?"

"N-no…"

The Fiana who asked was no longer the powerless woman of moments before. Drawing back the mana she had left in the sword, she recovered enough to at least move.

It was her own mana. Fiana could use it best.

Hearing Alfira's reply, she turned her gaze toward Frederica and Satia.

In that brief moment, and from her experience in this abandoned mine, she sensed that this Black Ooze treated Frederica and Satia specially. Why a monster kept humans alive near it—given the violations she'd just witnessed, the reason needed no thought.

Biting her lip, while keeping the surroundings in check, she walked over to Alfira and put her arm around that slender waist.

"!?"

Alfira let out a voiceless scream.

Fiana, with strength impossible to imagine from her small body, tucked Alfira under her arm, then hurled the sword in her hand toward Frederica. Tip aimed, with the will to slay, she threw it.

As if to block the sword's momentum, tentacles extended like a wall. But the slight mana within froze the tentacles and shattered a few of them.

In the end the sword did not reach Frederica, but the Black Ooze, exactly as Fiana had predicted, exerted itself fully to protect her, and in that instant Fiana succeeded in escaping from the hall in the deepest reach of the abandoned mine.

While carrying Alfira—taller than herself—tucked under her arm.

"Mn… ah, mn."

But without minding it, the Black Ooze resumed making children with Frederica.

Frederica, who had momentarily flinched from the suddenness, in her climax-clouded head was unable to think further.

—The Black Ooze did not pursue Fiana and Alfira.