Slow means she has time to really appreciate it. Slow means she gets to feel that building warmth, and enjoy it, and know what it means, and enjoy that. Slow means being cradled in Sable's lovely tentacles and subjected to Sable's lovely caresses. Excellent choice.

Her tentacles caress and support Esme's body adoringly, tiny tendrils splitting off to tease her folds and suckle at her clit. For now, the heat inside Esme just feels like she drank a warm cup of cocoa.

Mmmmm it's so cozy. And threatening. A lovely combination.

Sable bites its lip, savoring the feel of Esme's body as heat slowly builds, tentacles teasing along every inch of her. It's getting hotter now, inside her, just on the edge of discomfort, while the vibrators and the caresses pour pleasure into her.

Slowly, steadily, the heat builds.

It's so nice having the time to really appreciate the little things, like the way it feels to be poised on the edge between cozy warmth and stinging heat, wrapped up in pleasure and enthralled by the anticipation of pain.

But that edge can't last.

Slowly, so gradually that Esme almost can't be sure she's noticing it right, the heat builds hotter and hotter. It radiates out into her body, building in every part of her, her own body circulating the heat out to her limbs even as the deep burn of cooking just starts to be felt in her core.

Sable's hands tease up and down her body, savoring the feeling and the squirming as she cooks, moaning in her ear in anticipation of her taste.

Her squirming is slow at first, nestling cozily into Sable's arms and tentacles. She only starts really wriggling when the pain is solid and real inside her, when every movement makes it shift and slide and spark, when second by second the inescapable intensity gets harder to endure and she knows it's going to keep going until it's far beyond what she can enjoy, and she's going to enjoy it anyway, because everything about this situation is profoundly hot.

Sable sighs hotly as Esme's squirming intensifies, kissing adoringly along her neck and down her body, tracing the path of the cooking dildos.

"Beautiful, marvelous, delectable girl. You're so precious to me."

She makes a little whimpery noise. It hurts, and it's only going to hurt more, and that means she's right where she belongs. Sable's affection reinforces that feeling in the best way possible. She is getting such a good grade in kidnap victim.