There's a lovely young lady taking a walk in the park this fine morning, early enough that the sun has only just started sweeping away the veil of fog that hangs between the trees.

Sable isn't in this particular park, or indeed any park, or in fact on the planet, so it's not clear why she knows this.

It's also not clear why she knows that the lovely young lady would be absolutely enchanted, so to speak, if a beautiful inky tentacle demon goddess were to abduct her and do terrible wonderful things to her helpless mortal mind and body. Nor is it clear why she knows that the lovely young lady is absolutely guaranteed not to suffer permanent harm from anything up to and including complete physical destruction or full-blast concentrated divine eldritch madness.

Nevertheless, her sourceless intuition is quite firm on all these points.

Up to her what she does with this newfound knowledge.

Bwuh?

That is not something she expected her mysterious divine intuition to ever tell her.

Her intuition has not historically provided unprompted information about random mortals that aren't trying to badly derail her plans.

This is a very confusing event.

That's a familiar park, though, and she knows of a small nook in the trees that is reliably unobserved. She checks her outcome-intuition for whether portaling to the little copse will blow her cover. No? Great.

Vworp.

So, human disguise up, a tall, busty blonde in jeans and a scoop-necked tee strolls through the park. She doesn't get close to the inexplicable girl, but she gets in range to positively identify her.

And then she stealthily applies every means of divination she has to this girl: what are her desires, her kinks, her thoughts about magic, her opinions about monsterfucking, her openness to new kinks, her opinions about mind control, her opinions about spooky meddlesome demons that interfere benevolently in mortal society, and so on? What's her outcome-sense have to say about kidnapping this girl (assuming she does something to make sure any attached mortals don't worry about her disappearance)? What's it have to say about having very destructive fun with her?

As usual for a human, her kinks and desires are a hard-to-verbalize tangle of associations. She likes danger, but prefers specific kinds of danger; she wants someone else to hold absolute power over her, but the best forms of that are when that person likes her and wants her to have nice things, even though other forms of it are also tempting. Mind control fits in nicely there, especially mind control to enforce loyalty or obedience (or love, or worship...)

She is actively enthusiastic about being mind-controlled into new kinks as long as, and this is crucial, the person mind-controlling her into a new kink is paying close attention to how the new kink fits in with her existing landscape of attraction and making sure it fits seamlessly and has all appropriate cross-connections. Ideally they would collaborate with her about it in detail, though there's also something alluring about the idea of being altered without warning or the opportunity to object - it's just that there's something even more alluring about spending hours doing deep analysis of her own psyche. Perhaps there could be flowcharts. She likes flowcharts.

Monsterfucking is a big plus, especially the kind of monster that has psychic or psychic-adjacent elements, like a hypnotic vampire or an alluring succubus or an eldritch tentacle horror that can literally and figuratively fuck your brains out. In her opinion, it would be very romantic to have her mind turned inside-out and then carefully put back together again, optionally with some changes.

There is notably something she doesn't want, and that's to be put in a position of conflict with the person wielding power over her. She doesn't want to belong to someone who she dislikes, or who dislikes her; she wants to be happy and proud to be a mind-controlled slave. This does mean that it's much better, all things considered, if the person keeping her as a mind-controlled slave is a generally pleasant and benevolent sort. (Though it's fine and in fact fun if they want to put her through harrowing experiences, as long as she's allowed to enjoy it, and doesn't have to feel like she needs to fight back. She never wants to feel like she needs to fight back.)

Spooky meddlesome demons that interfere benevolently in mortal society sound great, assuming they're doing a good job. (How many flowcharts are involved? Is this hypothetical demon in need of a secretary...? She may in fact have some preexisting fantasies about being the happily mind-controlled kinky secretary of a spooky yet benevolent magical being.)

As for her thoughts on magic, that turns out to be a topic with hidden depths: specifically, all her life she's been dreaming about another life in a different world, where she had magic and a family she liked better than her current family. She doesn't know exactly what happened to that other self, because the dreams come all out of order, but she's seen enough to be reasonably sure she's not just making it all up inside her own head. She has never dared try any of the magic she remembers because all the magic she remembers comes with dire safety warnings about what happens if you mess it up, and while her memory is good, she isn't willing to bet that it's good enough for this. Magic is cool, though, and she's kind of wistful about this world seemingly not having any.

Sable's outcome-sense thinks kidnapping this girl would be a fantastic idea, possibly the best idea she's ever had, and even better if she arranges for her not to be missed first. Having very destructive fun with her might lead to extended periods spent waiting nervously for her to recover, but seems otherwise fine.

What.

What.

That's. 

Ink and madness. Did she just win the lottery?

Literally the only way this girl could be a more-perfect kidnap target is if she had a pre-existing vore kink, and kinking on carefully-integrated kink-insertion via mind magic is just as good.

Fuck.

This is possibly too good to be true.

A secretary helping her organize her meddling sounds great, and not wanting to ever be adversarial sounds great, and putting her through terribly harrowing kinky experiences while making sure she enjoys them sounds great.

Literally everything about this sounds great.

Ink and fucking madness.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Calm.

The waves in the ink sea wash in and out. Focus on her realm. Focus on the slow swish of the ink in the sea.

How sure is she that all this information is correctly and truthfully backed by her divine/demonic intuition, that it's accurate, that she's not being fucked with somehow?

All feedback from Sable's psychic senses feels normal and in agreement with all the rest. To all appearances, the girl hasn't even noticed that there's someone else in the park. She sweeps some dew off a park bench and sits down, looking up at the early morning sky.

Okay.

Okay.

Well.

Fuck she has a lot of feelings about this.

She knows what she needs to do, though. She's verified this, she's checked it against every kind of divination and truth magic and outcome magic.

She memorizes this girl, memorizes the feel of her soul, so she can find her from anywhere.

And then she gets to work.

Step one: identify everyone who knows her, everyone who'd miss her, everyone who'd even notice her absence. Observe them, skim their minds, figure out what sort of sudden disappearance would be believable.

Okay, she's a dutiful and talented student, eager and organized, the kind people would totally believe could get into a great university far away. And she's the right age to go into university soon, and it's the right time of year for acceptance letters to show up soon. That's perfect.

Sable starts fabricating documentation, carefully conjuring paperwork and offer letters and acceptance letters and unlisted websites. She takes her time about this. It's now her new hobby, in between her various feats of meddling.

Selunia Institute of Technology gains a lot of official recognition very quickly, and no one notices this fact at all. No one can notice it — the knowledge and all the documentation has a very subtle antimemetic curse on it such that people can't share it unless she lets them and forget to care about this fact. She makes sure no one will ever have the idea to apply, no one will ever consider contacting the school, no one will think about it at all.

But everyone who hears about it knows that Selunia Tech is extremely prestigious, with the best professors, and a wider selection of arts and sciences majors than any other school. This is an unarguable fact that no one would even think to dispute.

Inkstained madness, it's even true. Sable mysteriously knows a lot about the universe, about technology, about art and science and biology and politics and changing things. She can certainly teach Esme anything the girl would like to know, in between doing gorgeously horrible things to her. The girl will get the best education available in anything and everything she wants. 

The offer letters talk about a full-ride scholarship with a generous stipend, about the opportunity to start early, about special summer programs available to select students. The school is known to provide transportation for scholarship students like Esme, so the family doesn't need to go tour or arrange Esme's travel.

And all of it is enchanted so that no one will question any of it. Carefully-crafted memories are inserted where needed, alongside online reviews, entries in ranking sites, and further documentation, to provide evidence why Esme should be thrilled with this offer. All the memories are delicately integrated, every piece of the story of Esme's life hangs together seamlessly.

It's a good thing Sable is putting the work in, because when Esme gets an unexpected offer from a prestigious university she does extensive research. It's not enough that everyone knows the place is great; the place had better be great in specific, concrete, quantifiable ways that she can put into a spreadsheet and check against her other options.

When she does, though, Selunia reliably comes out on top. It's not long before she accepts.

Good, good. All according to keikaku. 

(Humans have such neat memes.)

Sable spends the remainder of the school year preparing a suitably scarousing (but also luxurious) cell for Esme to land in. It's inescapable, even if she tries the magic she remembers. And it's designed down to the last detail to communicate "you have been kidnapped by a terrifyingly powerful entity who wants you to be cozy in between doing enjoyably horrible things to you", on a conscious and subconscious level. 

It's in Sable's private tower in the very heart of her Realm. There's a nice window, too.

In between furnishing a suite for a very precious captive, and keeping up with her usual meddling, Sable also gives Esme a series of very sexy nightmares over the remainder of the school year. The dreams are different every time, only having two themes in common: she gets kidnapped, and horribly dangerous and terrifyingly pleasurable things either happen to her in the dream, or are implied to be looming.

Sometimes she's grabbed off the street by faceless figures. Sometimes a door she recognizes leads to luxurious captivity instead of the usual destination, and promptly locks behind her. Sometimes her body is mysteriously puppeted to walk her away from home and into a limousine that pulls up when she's out of sight. Sometimes a portal opens up under her feet. Sometimes she comes home from school to find her parents cheerfully signing paperwork to sell her off to a mysterious and beautiful woman, their eyes glazed over with signs of mind control. 

Sometimes she's whipped raw. Sometimes she's cut to pieces. Sometimes she's raped by slick, dexterous tentacles of inky, gelatinous substance. Sometimes she's lavished with a sensuous massage of spiced oils while she watches a grill heat up over a crackling firepit. Sometimes she's choked while she's fucked, breath scarce, lungs screaming as her body is violated. Sometimes she's run through with countless needles, none thicker than a millimeter or two, none shorter than a handspan. Sometimes she's slowly dissolved in a vat of corrosive, inky goop, pain and pleasure smoldering through her body as the goop sinks deeper into her flesh. Sometimes the tentacles penetrate her deeper than she should be able to survive, or in ways that should break her. Often it does break her.

Sometimes she sees her captor. The face looks different in every dream, as does her height and figure, but she has pointed ears, violet eyes with pie-cut pupils, a wickedly fanged smile, and curving horns that remind her of the crescent moon. 

In every dream, she can't help but enjoy every minute, even the horrible parts. (Especially the horrible parts.)

And every time, she wakes up shuddering with arousal, panties soaked, an electric thrill dancing through her body.

After the second of those, she starts keeping a dream journal, meticulously recording every detail she can remember as soon as she wakes up.

After the third, she goes out and buys a new locking diary and copies the first three entries into it, and the Sexy Abductions Dream Journal lives on her nightstand for the rest of the school year, being updated every time she gets a new one.

The dreams keep coming intermittently, no clear schedule, no way to predict when she'll have have an abduction nightmare and when she won't. It tends to be at least once a week, sometimes several nights a week, but once she goes more than two weeks without one, long enough be a hanging, open question in her mind. 

The next dream after the gap is thunderously intense, perhaps trying to make up for the absence.

Meanwhile, Sable keeps preparing and keeps meddling, keeps up her duties. 

A week or two after the school year ends, she receives a letter at home informing her and her family that Selunia will be in contact with her directly to arrange transportation. Everything she finds online reports that this is very normal for Selunia's intake process.

(She investigates that open question thoroughly, going back to count the days between each dream and forming a tentative statistical model of how often they usually show up so she knows how late the next one is. When it does finally show up, she writes it down as meticulously as ever, then makes time to reread it that evening before going to bed.)

Right, so, the thing about Selunia—

It could just be the normal, very prestigious university that everyone claims it is. It's just that... a strange and powerful entity about which she has no direct evidence has unexpectedly taken an interest in her; this interest is plausibly deniable as nothing out of the ordinary, but has tangible effects that were completely unanticipated up until they became the new normal; and, come on, 'parents mind-controlled to facilitate her retrieval by the Sexy Dream Kidnapper' and 'made to leave her home in a vehicle sent by the Sexy Dream Kidnapper' have both appeared in the text.

She's still going to go, of course. It is a very prestigious university. She's just saying (privately, in her Sexy Abduction Dream Journal) that there are certain undeniable thematic parallels between these two novel elements in her life.

Yeah, she's totally meant to see those parallels. Only her, though. Esme gets to privately note the foreshadowing, as a treat.

One morning, most of the way through Esme's first month of summer, things get a little more openly weird.

As she's checking herself over in the mirror before going out to start her day, black-violet ink starts to flow down her reflection's face from her hair and eyes.

A startled yelp seems appropriate to the occasion!

No sound comes out. 

Well, that's hot no, focus.

She studies her face in the mirror, touching a spot of ink to see what it feels like.

It's not there in reality, her hands come away clean, but she can still clearly see it in the mirror.

It doesn't last long, maybe a second and a half, before her reflection winks at her, and puts a finger to its lips in a shushing motion.

Then the ink vanishes, and her reflection resumes normal physical behavior.

Okay, so that just happened.

First things first: write it down in the Sexy Abduction Dream Journal, framed as a Sexy Abduction Dream, which it basically is.

She heads back to her room, attentive to further unexplained phenomena and especially to anything that suggests a course of action, such as the literal and gestural shushing which have already conveyed "don't tell anyone about this".

No, nothing more happens just yet. She can savor the anticipation for now.

She jots down her notes about mirror ink and then rereads them thoughtfully.

So, this could be the first move in a long game, but she doesn't think so. All the Sexy Abduction Dreams have had a pretty short timeline from first overt supernatural phenomenon to removal from normal life. That could just be the necessity of fitting things into a one-night timeline, but dreams can feel longer than that. Therefore she should assume she's being told to, figuratively speaking, pack for her trip to Selunia. (Sorry, Selunia, even though you might still be just a normal university, you have become a euphemism for Sexy Abduction.)

The obvious thing to do in this scenario is... pack for her trip to Selunia. Just as though she got the call a more normal way. Think it through, just to be sure: in the worst case, if this turns out to be nothing or a much slower-rolled sexy abduction than she predicted, and Selunia turns out to be innocent, then she ends up having lied to her parents for no reason and when the real call comes she takes it and goes to Selunia while waiting for the Sexy Abductor to sort themselves out, and maybe has to cover for the lie by claiming she got prank-called by an impostor. If it's a slow-rolled sexy abduction and Selunia is not innocent then she might be rudely pushing the Sexy Abductor's timeline forward by calling on their excuse too early, which they may not appreciate, so she should give them a chance to stop her first. But if she's right about the timeline, then whether innocent or not Selunia really is the perfect cover; and if Selunia is not innocent and the timeline is short then presumably the Sexy Abductor would end up mind-controlling her parents to believe she told them she was being called, which seems pointless when she can just do it herself and save everyone the trouble. Heck, even if Selunia is innocent, the Sexy Abductor would have to be a fool not to mind-control her parents into thinking she went there anyway. The cover is just too good.

She closes and pockets her Sexy Abduction Dream Journal, which should not leave her person again while she's still anticipating imminent Sexy Abduction, because it would be rude to leave that kind of loose end for her captor to clean up. She goes back to the bathroom mirror, as the only point of verified contact; it seems really likely that the Abductor can read her mind, but it wouldn't do to assume it.

Now, how best to ask the question? She studies her reflection with a slight frown. She's so unprepared for this situation, it's terrible. Then again there would definitely be some loss to the Sexy Abduction premise if she got to spend several months studying her abductor ahead of time to formulate an approach. No, focus...

In a coffee shop across town, Sable very nearly falls out of her chair.

She did not expect her sexy abduction victim to cooperate this thoroughly.

Wow. Honestly this girl is kind of perfect for this?

Okay focus what's the best way to communicate approval of this plan quickly?

Quick quick she's heading to the bathroom—

Ah! That's it.

As Esme looks into the mirror, ink starts running down her reflection's face, before collecting in mirror-Esme's hand and then solidifying into a Selunia tote bag. Mirror-Esme holds up the bag and gives real Esme a nod.

Oh good!

She grins and gives her reflection a little wave, then heads out. At this time of day, her mother is probably just starting her morning swim; she tries the pool first.

Got it in one.

She pauses between laps when she sees her daughter waiting by the poolside. "What is it, dear?"

"I got the call from Selunia!" she says, bouncing on her toes with undisguised delight.

"Oh, wonderful! Do you need any help packing?"

"You know me. Help would just get in the way."

"Just as long as you don't forget your goodbye hug."

"Last item on the checklist," she promises.

And back to her room to get started. She does, of course, already have a "pack for Selunia" checklist, but it wasn't written with Sexy Abduction in mind so she sits down to make a few edits before she starts putting things in suitcases.

Goodness. She's really very convenient, isn't she? Truly excellent sexy abduction victim, ten out of ten, would abduct again.

After several hours with a break for lunch, she swings by her mother's reading room to check off "goodbye hug", then rolls her suitcases out the door: a huge bulky one in one hand, a smaller compact one in the other. The family chauffeur asks if she needs a lift anywhere and she waves him off. This morning's walk was probably going to be in the farther of the two nearby parks, so she heads there in case her Sexy Abductor has made any preparations that relied on that plan.

Along the way she is thinking about expectation management.

She shouldn't get too caught up in assuming she knows what this person is about just from their delightful dream messages and overall very polite and collaborative abduction approach. If she starts spinning wild fantasies only to be disappointed later, that's just going to be upsetting for her and annoying for her captor who has not asked to be pedestalized ahead of time. She should be prepared to have a difficult time without making it anyone else's problem, and to adapt to many possible scenarios without demanding a lot of guidance but also without making unwarranted assumptions that might need correcting. Adaptability on short timescales in low-information environments is not her strongest suit, but that's fine, it just means she needs to apply herself. She's good at applying herself.

Also it's a lovely afternoon in the park.

Goodness. Maximally convenient kidnap victim. Yes, Sable is in fact trying to be exactly the polite and collaborative abductor she's presented herself as, but not having as high of expectations in case she fucks up is quite helpful. Even weird demonic godlings can make mistakes. Quite easily, in fact.

Midway through the very nice walk in the park, Esme finds her body is no longer hers to control. She turns off her route, walking toward a secluded copse. Once she's fully and thoroughly out of sight, a tree turns out to have an elegant door growing in the wood. She opens the door.

It's full of stars and swirling ink.

She passes through and blacks out.

Esme really did a lot of the work for her, here. Sable doesn't have nearly as much to do as she expected. A quick portal jaunt back to Esme's parents' house, and she enchants them and her school friends to gradually think less and less about Esme, to not worry about keeping in touch, it's okay, Esme's busy with her prestigious scholarship. Within a week, nobody Esme knew will think about her unprompted at all, and there will be no one but Sable and Esme to prompt them.

Absurdly convenient girl.

Okay, back to her Realm.

When Esme wakes up, she's lying atop an exquisitely comfortable four-poster bed, the purpleheart wood finely carved. The canopy and curtains are made of elaborate and delicate-looking lace. Luxuriously soft rugs in floral patterns cover the stone floor, and richly detailed tapestries depicting impossible geometries hang from the walls, somehow realer than any textbook depiction of a multidimensional figure ever was, mindbending to look at too long. The walls and floor themselves are a curious black stone reminiscent of onyx but shimmering faintly in silvery-purple, seemingly carved or grown of a single piece, and engraved with subtle, fractal patterns, fine enough to be unnoticeable without close inspection.

A pair of ornate purpleheart wardrobes stand at the far end of the room, a full-length mirror on a matching wooden stand between them, and if inspected prove to have plenty of room for all her clothes.

On the wall to her left, as she lies in bed, is an imposing door that does not open. Across from the bed, to the right of the wardrobes, is another door that does open. On the wall to her right is a large window, looking out upon an alien landscape. The sky is a deep purple, spotted with pink clouds, and studded with twinkling stars in every color of the rainbow and more besides. The moon glows radiantly, lighting the whole landscape, though the sky itself seems to provide some inexplicable illumination as well. Hundreds of feet below her room, an ocean of ink washes gently against a gemsand beach, amethyst and rose quartz swirling through each other. Distant islands can be seen in the ocean, dotted with trees in purples and reds and pinks.

To one side of the window is a gorgeous wooden desk, purpleheart with swirling sugar maple inlay, with plenty of drawers, and shelves overtop.

"Somebody really went all-out," she remarks as she sits up and looks around. These are not her pajamas she's wearing and that is hot, but before she examines that question too deeply she wants to check out the room.

Her Sexy Abductions Dream Journal is on her nightstand, which is a lovely touch; her suitcases and backpack are over by the wardrobes, and her backpack doesn't look deflated so her best guess is that she's been left to unpack her stuff herself, which she appreciates. The pile of clothes on top of the biggest suitcase seems at a glance to be a full inventory of everything she was wearing when she got here, though she can't see from this angle if it includes her underwear down, girl.

By the fact that her coat is hanging next to the door on the left, she deduces it leads outside, so she heads for the other one to see if it opens and if so what's behind it.

Behind this door is a luxuriously-appointed bathroom. Another window, a wall-filling mirror over the sink, plenty of counter space on either side of the sink for any supplies, a frankly enormous bathtub of polished amethyst, a shower curtain that can be pulled closed around the tub, and a detachable showerhead that looks to be one of those fancy multi-function kinds. There also seems to be an extra tap on the bathtub that has an engraved icon of bubbles on it. All the taps and pipes seem to be a gleaming, silvery metal.

A little cupboard to one side holds exquisitely soft and absorbent-seeming towels, lovely washcloths, and some cute hand towels as well, all in a matching purple.

She is sure taking note of that fancy showerhead again, not the time. Though she does endorse taking a moment to admire her new pajamas in the mirror.

Well, that sure seems to be a cute little lacy negligee in translucent purple. It has built-in support, and she doesn't appear to be wearing a separate bra. Her panties seem to have been replaced with a matching lacy purple set. All of this seems to be silk, on further inspection, as well.

Cute and hot! She's so pleased with her Sexy Abduction experience thus far.

Next up, the window seat. She wants to sit in it and take a good look out at the view.

There are subtle cushions in the window seat, and just enough space to lounge cozily and admire the view.

Outside, the stars really do seem to be in every color she's ever seen, and several she hasn't. They twinkle cheerfully in the purple sky, adding enough illumination alongside the moon that it's nearly as bright as day.

The moon seems to hang lower in the sky than she's used to, huge and full and gleaming, spilling gentle moonlight across the land. It looks like the same moon, though.

Far below, the beach is made of swirling, sparkling gemsand, amethyst and rose quartz. The ocean seems to be the same color of ink her reflection dripped with, earlier, and faintly iridescent in the moonlight. 

Everything about the landscape just drips with "cozy-dark".

If everything about this Sexy Abduction continues to be so charming she's going to have a hard time managing her expectations. Oh well, let no one accuse her of asking for her Sexy Abductions to be easy.

There is a sudden voice from behind her, a playful purr.

"What if your spooky captor aspires to live up to both your spookiest and most luxurious expectations?"

Standing near the door is a tall, blonde woman. Pointed purple horns curve up from her head, hinting at the shape of the crescent moon. Her face is sultry and warm, with soft lips and a delicate nose. Her eyes are a bright, vivid purple, with pie-cut pupils.

She's wearing a swooshy, black sundress with a lace-up bodice that shows off her cleavage over a pair of simple black flats.

A spade-tipped tail pokes out from the knee-length hem of the dress, and a handful of tentacles curl behind her back.

"You're doing a great job so far, I have to say."

'Spookiest and most luxurious' has some implications, as a pair of adjectives to name here. (Is it impolite to stare at the tentacles? She may be staring at the tentacles. Discreetly, but odds are this person can read her mind, so...) She actually had not been expecting a purple goth fairy tale castle at all, so her most luxurious expectations are already being wildly exceeded. Her spookiest expectations can get pretty damn spooky, but then, she's talking to the author behind all the lovely things she's written in her Sexy Abductions Dream Journal, so she has every confidence her spooky captor will be able to deliver. And there is, notably, not anything in that short list that implies her captor is planning to be nice. This is an abduction, not a date. She reminds herself again to be adaptable.

Staring at the tentacles is fine as long as it's not horrified staring. Admiring or lewd staring might even get a grin.

Spooky captor steps closer, hips swaying. "I'm pleased to impress. And there's no reason I can't steal the best parts of abductions and dates to make my own new better thing, is there? I find your thoughts on collaboration and enjoying the horrors thoroughly delightful, and your cooperation this morning was a marvelous surprise."

By the time she finishes her reply, she's crossed the room, her right hand rising to caress Esme's cheek, tentacles arcing forward just a bit.

(So that's a yes on the mindreading. Cool, cool. Hot.)

"Was it really that surprising? It seemed perfectly logical to me."

Stealing the best parts of abductions and dates sounds like a great idea she does not know this person and should be managing her expectations until she does. No matter how hot they keep being.

It giggles. "Well, to be completely honest, this is my first time abducting anyone. All I had to go on was human media, what I could see in your mind, and a few other powers assuring me that kidnapping you would be a great idea. I kept trying to temper my expectations, you see. But here you are, exceeding them."

Its thumb brushes gently against Esme's cheek, and the tentacles curl a bit closer to her.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. Sable Luna, ink-themed and moon-empowered demoness, gradually growing in power, trying to benevolently meddle in human progress, enjoyer of sexy horrors. She/it, if I want to take advantage of humanity's adorable recent habit of providing pronouns during introductions."

Oh, no, her Sexy Abductor is adorable. She was not prepared for this.

"And I'm Esme, but you already knew that." And, come to think of it, probably also knows about her secret dream name from her secret dream life that she's never told anyone about. That's honestly pretty weird. A lifelong habit of never openly acknowledging something can be a powerful thing, turns out. "I would definitely consider myself an enjoyer of your sexy horrors."

She may be leaning into Sable's hand a little. This is probably a homegrown response, but it's hot to imagine it might not be.

"I do in fact know that, as well as the secret dream name," she replies with a contented grin. "I also know a few fun tidbits about your past life, but those will keep. More fun to focus on sexy horrors and cozy collaboration for now, I expect."

Sable's tentacles wrap around Esme's back and hold her close, gently warm to the touch and very soft.

And since Esme is having such fun imagining the coziness being magically encouraged, Sable adds a subtle, barely-noticeable mental nudge to lean further into her embrace.

"You know, this sexy abduction has been much less violent than advertised, and yet I can't find it in myself to complain." As much fun as tentacle rape and other assorted horrors from the sexy abduction compendium are, ambiguously mind-controlled tentacuddles are just so sweet. It really sets a mood. "What kind of collaboration are you thinking of, exactly?" Sexy mind-controlled secretary? Is it sexy mind-controlled secretary? Sexy mind-controlled secretary to powerful benevolent inky moon demon? She reminds herself once again to manage her expectations.

"The violence can come after we've got you settled in and talked about how much accompanying mind control or other mental magics would make it most enjoyable," she teases. "And yes, I am in fact envisioning a sexy mind-controlled secretary who helps me plan my meddling and organize all the information I've collected in doing so. Also, if you'd like to actually study anything, I know a fair bit about the arts, very nearly everything about programming and electrical engineering and mechanical engineering, far too much about biology, and an assortment of otherworldly knowledge. I can actually back up the claims I made with the Selunia cover."

"I would love to be your sexy mind-controlled secretary and/or student." Oh good, she wasn't using an innocent normal university as cover for her sexy abduction. That would've been awkward. "Please tell me all about your meddling. Not necessarily right now, I'm going to want to take notes and I would be so distracted from my notes by the lovely mildly threatening snuggles."

"Wonderful," it purrs. "We can get into detailed analysis of the meddling later, then. Also, if there are any supplies or clothes or such that you'd like, my control of my domain is fairly absolute, including the ability to conjure things. You may be noticing a theme here, in fact: while I certainly can keep you here by force, it's so much more fun for us both if I make good use of your talents, and make sure you like all the sexily horrifying things that happen to you, via a mixture of luxury, mind control, and kink integration. Then the very sturdy gilded cage can just be mildly-threatening ambience."

"It's such good mildly threatening ambiance!"

"Oh good. Also, you should probably know that I can offer you a deal for three wishes in exchange for your soul, if you're interested. There are some limitations on the wishes, because I'm not omnipotent, and they need to be specified up front, but they're pretty open-ended. The only results of my owning your soul are that I could examine it, trivially use all my powers on you from any distance, and guarantee that you come here if you ever die."

"Then we should talk about what makes a good wish after you've caught me up on your plans and capabilities." Obviously Sable could have her soul for the asking, but if there's any benefit to efficacy from wishing for something then Esme had better spend a good long while thinking through her wishes, that's just common sense.

She nods and runs her fingers gently through Esme's hair. "Clever and careful and thoughtful. You're such a delight. It's going to be so fun to delicately integrate kinks for the various horrors into your existing desires. I bet you'll have delicious reactions if I let you feel the process as it's happening."

Well now she's bouncing excitedly, even though this makes petting her more difficult.

"Ink and madness, you're even more adorable in person. It's a good things demons can't die of cuteness overload."

"I feel like by kidnapping me you're implicitly taking responsibility for the consequences of experiencing my adorableness."

"Oh absolutely. That would be such a silly way to die, underestimating your cuteness and collapsing from the overload. It would be entirely my fault, though."

"Glad to know we're in agreement here." (Charming banter aside, if Sable had pushed back on that, Esme would've had to do a whole lot of expectation management about how well this is going to go. But also the charming banter is really fun.)

"Thoroughly. The job title of 'sexy kidnap victim' comes with a pretty dramatically reduced range of responsibilities. Most things fundamentally can't be anyone's fault but mine here. With all the mind-reading, even communication failures are my fault."

"Hey, that's not fair. Communication failures could totally be my fault if I relied too hard on assuming you're reading my mind all the time and forgot to check that you were following what I meant."

"True!" It laughs cheerfully. "Which is why only most things are my fault. It's technically possible for things to be your fault. Just unlikely."

"I can live with that." Listen, it's very hot to be a sexy kidnap victim who doesn't have enough power to be responsible for anything. "Though I have to warn you, I'm going to be trying my best to be a useful sexy mind-controlled secretary." And the more useful she is, the more responsibility she will presumably accumulate. That's just the price she pays for being well-organized and eager to help.

"I look forward to it. What's the point of kidnapping a clever, capable, and organized cutie if I'm not going to make use of her talents, right? Well, in so far as you enjoy having your talents put to use, which it certainly seems you do."

"Once again we are in agreement." If her Sexy Abductor had been all about the horrors and had no interest at all in her organizational skills, that would've been, well, still hot but also kind of a waste.

And then Sable sweeps its tentacles forward and scoops Esme into a princess carry, snuggling her to its chest with its arms and tentacles both, plants a kiss on her forehead, and carries her over to the bed.

"I think it would be quite fun to start talking about fun things to do to your mind," it says as it settles her into its lap and sits on the bed.

"Oh, come on, I just used the line 'once again we are in agreement', now what am I supposed to say?" she jokingly complains, snuggling into Sable's lap.

She giggles and squeezes Esme. "Oops. We just agree too much. Clearly we need new agreement-flavored phrases. Some people would try to find things to argue about, but that's silly."

"I'm sure disagreements will arise naturally, but I'm definitely having a good time with the amount of agreement we're discovering to start with. Anyway! What fun things would you like to do to my mind?"

"Well," it explains with a grin, "to start with, there's the simple fact that spending enough time around me is going to slowly and steadily break your mind, while all the sex will put you back together."

"That is fun."

"Ah, the joy of finding a girl who's into my only-temporarily-suppressible madness aura. You'll just wind up seeing beyond the veil a bit, worshiping me, and a bit manic. And eventually delirious and overwhelmed from seeing past the veil altogether." She grins and winks. "Beyond that, there are a number of kinks you're not particularly into yet: being eaten, being cut to pieces, being cooked. I think most of this should settle in tidily if we build up from the mind control kink and ownership kink as a foundation, integrating it from a perspective of 'it's hot when your owner uses you roughly', and using how hot you find the process of altering your mind as additional glue to stick it better. Probably we'll tweak your sensorium on a more basic level too, while I'm in there, just because most humans don't have nearly enough masochism built-in."

...having this conversation in Sable's lap appears to be recontextualizing some things, such as: she seems to find the idea of being eaten romantic now, where previously it has been not centrally her thing but still pretty hot on general principle. And, hmm— "Not that I'm opposed to adding more masochism, you understand, but I'm wary of doing it too indiscriminately because I feel like I'd miss having easy access to the 'this is too much, but it should be too much' reaction? Do you know the one I'm talking about?"

"Okay watching you notice a kink is romantic in real time is kind of great?"

"But hm. I'm not personally familiar with it? But I think I've seen it in human minds ever? I can see why it would be worth keeping, though."

"So maybe hold off on installing more masochism just yet. You can play around with my sensorium after we get a sense for how the factory model performs under stress."

"You just keep being more and more of a delightful surprise. I did not expect interest in trying out the level of pain several of my kinks involve without a modded sensorium, but I'm absolutely open to trying that with you."

"And you should definitely get so much cozy aftercare after, with or without the modding."

... she's instinctively wary of the concept of aftercare but, hmm, managing your expectations goes both ways, right, she should be open to things going well and not just to them going poorly. It's just that there's a kind of trust you don't need to extend if all you're expecting is the sexy horrors, and very much do need to extend in order to expect to be taken care of afterward.

"Oh." She squeezes Esme tighter. "That makes sense. Okay, we're going to need to work up to the aftercare thing. Ease you into that, probably with gradually-increasing intensity of both scene and aftercare."

Now is the time of hugging her Esme about the trust issues.

"—I mean, you don't have to—like, it's not that I find aftercare aversive per se, it's just that I... need to adjust my expectations." She shakes her head slightly. "But if you want to be careful and escalate slowly, I'm not going to complain." She definitely has an impulse to complain but it is not a sane impulse and she will not be humouring it.

"It's not like I'm not getting anything out of the gradual escalation, either. We get to go easier on my worries about breaking my fragile mortal girl in a lasting way. Sure, maybe you bounce back implausibly well, my powers sure seem to think you will, but I've literally never seen a human that durable before, so it's probably wise to do this gradually, and soothes my anxiety."

She laughs sheepishly. "Yes, apparently demons get anxiety too."

"That does not surprise me in the slightest."

Why is she having so many feelings about this?

How about she just hugs Esme tighter for a moment?

Well how about Esme hugs back, how about that?

That will produce a soothed, cuddly demon.

After a long moment, it speaks again. "Thanks for that." It runs its fingers through her hair.

"So I think we were talking about delicately wiring kinks into your mind, among other possible things we could do to that pretty little head of yours."

Blushy wiggles. "Indeed. ...as silly as this is coming from someone who specifically kinks on being mind-controlled, I actually think I want to try a bunch of that stuff without the mind control first? To get a baseline." She waves at the Sexy Abduction Dream Journal. "I know you already made me dream about a bunch of it, but dreaming about something is not a valid baseline, it's too different of a mental state. ...and, even leaving aside the calibration question, now that I've had the thought that it would be romantic if you ate me, I want to see what that's like without additional factors."

Sable giggles and squeezes her. "You're absolutely adorable, and that's very smart."

"I like that plan. We'll work our way through a whole range without any tweaks, that way we can plan out together exactly what tweaks will make all the sexy horrors as fun as possible."

It strokes her hair some more.

"As plans go, I think it has a lot to recommend it!" She leans into Sable's hand a little.

"It really does. But how about a little teaser, hm?"

She increases the sensitivity of Esme's scalp and adjusts the valence a little, carefully turning hair-petting into an erogenous sensation for her.

Pet pet pet~

"Ooooh." That's both hot and fascinating. A lot of arousal is about narrative and she doesn't have a narrative for this experience, at least not yet, but "it's hot that Sable can casually adjust my sensorium" is a very serviceable starting point and she can see other narratives she could lean into alongside it—it's hot (and romantic) to be treated like a pet in the sense of something that is kept and doted on and cared for; it's hot to be physically in someone's power and have them express both the capability and the right to touch you however they want... she doesn't push for either of them just yet, because she's having too much fun enjoying the sensation on its own merits without extra layers of interpretation.

It presses a gentle kiss to the top of Esme's head and keeps petting her. "Watching your mind at work while you process this is fascinating. You are unreasonably cute. My cute, precious Esme."

The cozy possessiveness makes the petting feel even better. She wiggles happily.

Oh good. She tightens her grip on her adorably wigglesome Esme. "Keeping you. Keeping you and treating you to new joys and new sexy horrors until the stars burn out."

Who knows. Maybe she'll do something about the stars burning out, too.

"I don't see why we should let the heat death of the universe stop us."

"Once again we agree~," she replies with a giggle. "Give us a few millennia and I'm sure we can figure out a way to apply my magic to the task of keeping the lights on."

"You definitely seem to be able to do some pretty impressive stuff with it," she says, gesturing out the window.

"Oh, in here I'm cheating. This is my realm, my domain. I can approximate omnipotence a whole lot closer in here than outside on Earth. My power out there is definitely growing, though, so I'm sure we'll figure it out."

"Still, as proofs of concept go, it's a pretty compelling one." Nestle.

"It is that."

Warm squeeze, pet pet pet.

"Do you want me to end up with a hairpetting fetish?" she wonders.

"Not necessarily hairpetting specifically, but various forms of cozy snuggles?"

"Okay!" she says cheerfully, snuggling up and turning her thoughts to how hot it is to be wrapped up in the arms (and tentacles) of a powerful demon who wants to keep her.

Such a good Esme she has.

How about she just increases Esme's sensitivity all over, for a bit, and also pets her back, and her arms and shoulders, and her legs, in addition to her hair?

Oooooh.

Esme is a little too busy squirming and whimpering to say this out loud, but she would just like to point out that the cute lingerie Sable put her in is really adding to this experience on a number of levels. What a good and cozy demon to belong to, ten out of ten, would be kidnapped again.

Ooh, such lovely squirming and whimpering. 

"I'm so glad you like it," Sable murmurs as it continues to pet and caress her. Then it has a fun idea, and murmurs the next bit telepathically. {I'm so glad you're enjoying being mine.}

💖💖💖

She presses gentle kisses all over Esme's face — her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her temples, her jaw — and continues petting, continues stroking soft fingers and dexterous tentacles across her body in caress after tender caress. Then she kisses a line down the side of her neck, and mixes little teasing nips in as well.

{You have such delicious reactions. I'm so glad I abducted you. So glad I stole you away to keep and savor.}

This is an excellent way to keep one's happy squirmy puddle of Esme too immersed in sensation to articulate her thoughts.

She'll want her squirmy puddle of Esme to be able to articulate thoughts eventually, but for now the overwhelming sensations and resultant wriggles are extremely delightful. She caresses and nips and teases and savors her marvelous captive, 

After a few minutes of this, she starts slowly ramping down the sensitivity, smoothly and gently, while continuing to pet Esme and hold her tenderly.

"Precious, wonderful girl," she murmurs. 

Words, right, yes, words relating to thoughts, she has some of those, she's sure they're around here somewhere, perhaps she should check under the couch? Okay, and we're back.

Blinking up at Sable with a slightly dazed smile, she says, "Now would be an excellent time to visit some sexy horrors upon me, if you're wondering." She is both cozily puddlesome and also very turned on and particularly enjoying being a sexy kidnap victim with no hope of resisting her powerful mind-controlling demonic abductor. 💖

Well that sounds like a fun idea. A tentacle wraps each of Esme's limbs, securing her snugly in its coils and lifting her up. Another twists around her waist. A narrower tentacle wraps around the base of each breast, squeezing tightly. 

Sable steps close, a wicked grin displaying her sharp fangs, and squeezes Esme's right breast roughly, while her other hand caresses her cheek. "You have a point," Sable purrs. "You are so very tempting. I should take advantage of this lovely treat I've captured."

Another tentacle slips under her lacy panties and rips them off.

Well this is all much hotter when it's happening outside a dream, turns out.

(Oh no, what if the cute underwear gets damaged? —no, presumably Sable has some sort of solution to that—)

"Oh good," she says, squirming. "Yes please." Will there be fangs involved? Because she is definitely noticing the fangs.

(The solution for the cute clothes getting damaged is that they're conjured, just like everything here that isn't Esme or Sable, and can thus be re-conjured in an undamaged state at will. Which will occur sometime after Sable is done ravishing Esme.)

A thick, purple tentacle, slick with inky lube and as big around as Esme's wrist, teases along her folds, caressing wetly against her for a long moment, before forcing its way inside her. 

Sable leans closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of Esme's neck. "Yes, there will be," she purrs, nipping her neck teasingly.

On some level she appreciates how the teasing nibbles make such a lovely counterpoint to the tentacle's merciless violence, but by far the majority of what she's feeling is the deep satisfaction of being owned and overwhelmed. Feeling Sable's tentacles on and around and in her is a visceral demonstration of how powerless she is in this relationship, and she loves it.

And that is when Sable sinks its fangs into Esme's neck, sharply piercing through her skin, blood welling up into its mouth.

It drinks, the feeling almost like a tug through Esme's veins.

The tentacle inside her starts thrusting in and out, getting deeper each thrust until it's deeper than she could take without magic, the stretch of it a spark of pain to accompany the pleasure.

—oh—oh it's perfect. Perfect, perfect, caught and held and fucked and kept and treasured. Every part of her belongs to this beautiful demon and all is right with the world. It hurts, and it should hurt, she should be ravaged beyond her body's capacity to bear, every thrust another inescapable reminder that she's a helpless toy who breathes at her captor's mercy. She should be bitten and drained, giving up her blood—having it taken from her—for Sable's pleasure. She wants to give anything and everything for Sable's pleasure.

Also, she was right. Being eaten is very romantic. 💖

Ink and madness. How does it get to be this lucky?

It lines up two more tentacles, a one claiming Esme's lips, thrusting deep into her throat, while another plunges into her ass.

The aphrodisiac fluids dripping from the tentacles drag her arousal still higher, overwhelming her with more pleasure, and the thick insertions stretch her painfully, her throat and abdomen bulging with every thrust.

Sable drinks, and drinks, savoring every drop of Esme's blood, taking enough that she starts to feel a little dizzy from the lack.

She loses her words again somewhere in there, so that by the time she starts to feel dizzy from lack of blood she isn't coherent enough to articulate how more-than-perfect it is, how good, how right, how beautiful. All she can do is be overwhelmed all over again with pain and pleasure and belonging and warmth and need and love.

The feeling of her overwhelmed, love-filled mind is beautiful. Utterly gorgeous. Sable basks in it as she drinks, letting Esme feel her presence within her mind, and uses just enough of her healing and her biomancy to keep Esme wobbling back and forth over the edge of lightheadedness, so she gets intermittent rushes of it. 

She lets her madness aura out a bit, relaxing her control of it and letting her eldritch nature spill over Esme.

Her claws prick at Esme's skin as she gropes her breasts and ass, her tentacles pound mercilessly into her body, stretching her beyond what a human should be able to take.

There are a lot of ways eldritch madness can manifest, and worshipful ecstasy is only one of them.

But given the circumstances, it's kind of a foregone conclusion.

The edges of her thoughts blur together, one sensation cascading into the next. Nothing is solid, nothing is stable, except the steady comforting pressure of Sable's mind against hers; and she turns toward it like a sunflower, and basks.

Sable savors Esme, drinking its fill of her, basking in the worshipful bliss of her mind, pounding into her again and again.

Eventually, when it is thoroughly satisfied, though not spent (it's not sure it can be fully spent), it slows down, reduces the intensity. It folds its aura back in, shifts its claws away, pulls its fangs out of her neck. It slows its tentacles, and then pulls out the ones in her mouth and her ass.

Slowly, tenderly, it keeps gently fucking her while petting her warmly, and restoring the lost blood with biomancy, taking advantage of its passive sexual healing effect to gradually ease her mind back down from the high of the madness.

She makes a dazed noise of complaint when there are fewer tentacles. Fewer is not the number of tentacles she prefers.

As Sable puts her mind back together, though, she gradually feels more and more satisfied by what just happened to her. A gorgeous eldritch tentacle demon just fucked her brains out; there's really no cause for complaint here.

She remembers their conversation about aftercare, and tentatively decides not to make pulling herself together an urgent priority. This seems unlikely to be the sort of relationship where she's expected to bounce back from this kind of thing and be ready to resume secretarial work as soon as her head stops spinning.

Sable cozily holds Esme in her arms and tentacles, murmuring sweet fondness and adoration into her ears and petting her softly. "You did so well," she coos. "You are wonderful and precious and utterly captivating. I love you so much."

Continued gentle fucking is not traditionally a part of aftercare, but she literally has a sexual healing ability, so she's going to abuse it mercilessly to fix what her aura does to her Esme's mind. She'll stop when either Esme shows signs of wanting that to stop, or seems sufficiently put back together not to need it.

And no, Esme is not remotely expected to perform any kind of work right now. She's expected to just relax and recover and enjoy the coze. If she happens to form a preference about anything, it would be nice if she would say so, or think it with some minimal degree of coherence, so Sable can do something about fulfilling it. That is the entirety of the expectations on her.