Thread: The Conquest by The People (darkest_fate and google)

The liquid continued to pour into Emmalee's mouth, visibly demonstrating for her just how much the People could actually produce. The princess struggled with the load, her desperation not to swallow becoming more frantic with each passing moment. Her cheeks began to bulge in an almost comical manner, as more and more liquid filled her mouth. Emmalee could feel the potent stuff lingering upon her tongue, and she even suspected that even that slightest bit would begin to affect her. Even if by some miracle it didn't, there still remained the fact that she simply could not prevent all of it from sliding down her throat. Emmalee could already feel bits of it slithering down her, gliding toward her body, even as she struggled. The girl knew she could, and likely would, vomit the stuff up, but even with all her efforts, some would get through. Which only posed the question would some be enough? Isilmorte seemed to think so. His taunting words continued to hammer down upon Emmalee's flagging self-esteem and willpower. She struggled valiantly to listen, breathe, and fight all at the same time. Worse still, part of her agreed wholeheartedly with the creature's assertion it was eerily similar to what she and her supporters had been saying. They simply hadn't enough data to understand these people, because everyone had been so mired in their fantasies and denial. Now the princess was paying the price, as every inch of her fought against that which she already knew to be inevitable. To her personal horror, the creature seemed to enjoy what she wore. the delicate lacy white things were more accents than anything, though they performed their task admirably enough. Still, they hardly provided protection from an arm as it sought Emmalee's sex. The princess's teary eyes widened at the touch, a little squeal of protest coming from around her still sealed lips. She could feel more tentacles caressing her face, possessively, and that terror twisted her gut tighter still. The princess rocked, trying to squeeze her thighs together and dance in place. In fact, Emmalee's entire body became tight. Then, against the princess's wishes, she gagged. Gagged mightily. The collected liquid in her mouth slid up through her nose, leaking out and dribbling. Bits leaked from around her mouth, and she nearly vomited against the bulb that still sealed her. The girl's face had turned a brilliant red as she fought against the urge to swallow, though her throat obviously worked. As a necessary support, Emmalee's hands clung tightly to Isilmorte, so desperate for anything that could support them in their hour of need. Meanwhile, the words had punctured Mei-Lin's self-absorbed haze. Her training kicked in, and the exotic beauty rotated, looking up at her master with love and lust in her gaze. She could see the princess struggling and knew that help was needed. withdrawing her hands, Mei-Lin crawled over. First her tongue began lashing at the bulb and the splattered bits, gathering the aphrodisiac eagerly, as though it were nectar. Her tongue lashed Emmalee's face as well, seeming to hint at future possibilities. The beautiful girl rocked slightly back, her hand falling between her master's legs to find the upper member, her personal favorite. digits encircled it, squeezing as if to ready. Mei-Lin is sorry, master, she cooed, looking up at him. Her eyes begged and her hand jerked. 'Please, master, let Mei-Lin know what you want her to do. Would you like her to help make the pretty stupid girl swallow master's wonderful sauce? Or should she work on preparing master's beautiful rods? Oh please, she pumped the cock almost vigorously, her breath still coming in pants, please, master, tell Mei-Lin what to do... And even through her horror, Emmalee heard her fellow princess, heard her and felt more despair sink within.