The first, most obvious change is that suddenly Tanthe is feeling everything more deeply and intensely and in far more detail than she was before. Her need and desire and pleasure and longing are all just, more. It's as though, to use a metaphor that no one in this room would understand, her skin used to be a grubby old CRT television from the 90s and someone swapped it out for a 4K colour-corrected wide-gamut smart TV and all the little nuances that the old box couldn't even begin to show are popping out in vivid colour.

But she doesn't even have time to process the difference before her expanded senses are filled with an earth-shattering orgasm. It roars through her like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. She bucks and clenches on Aire's tongue; her womb contracts, squeezing hard, and the pressure is just this side of uncomfortable. It would probably feel amazing on Aire's cock.

She thrashes wildly, absolutely devoid of higher cognition, capable only of keeping Aire's cock down her throat and mashing her crotch repeatedly against Aire's face.

Oh fuck that's perfect, that's so perfect, Aire could control herself but she just doesn't bother and she thrusts up into Tanthe's mouth and cums down her throat.

She pushes back against Tanthe's squeezing womb as hard as she can, trying to push her tongue deeper and keep Tanthe's orgasm going for as long as possible. The longer the better. She wants Tanthe to feel as good as possible. Even after Tanthe comes down from her orgasm she'll keep stimulating her womb as pleasurably as she can, she can't risk Tanthe coming together enough to realize what's going on.

She has six more wombs? This can get even better? Sitting there, spurting down Tanthe's throat, Aire is filled with giddy anticipation.

She swallows Aire's cum eagerly, not processing the sensation as anything more than sensation, another flower in the bouquet of the world. And they are such lovely flowers.

It's possible for Aire to keep her going quite a while like this, especially if she thinks to stimulate Tanthe's breasts and spark another orgasm there to prolong the sensations.

Whatever Tanthe said earlier about 'doubling' seems to have been an understatement. From what she's psychically transmitting, she must be feeling at least five times as much pleasure as she used to. Maybe some of that is linked to virginity loss, which could have separately triggered when her womb was penetrated? Alas that Aire cannot procure another Tanthe from somewhere and run the experiment.

Having her womb tongue-fucked as she comes down from her orgasm is beautiful and glorious... and yet. And yet. And yet.

The first thing resembling a conscious thought that crosses her mind as it slowly resumes a distant facsimile of normal operations... is desire. Desire for more, deeper, harder. Desire for Aire's wonderful tongue to keep going.

Aire might need to extend her tongue again to manage that. Or she could take a chance on rearranging their positions, and hope that Tanthe is too far gone to object to Aire fucking her with an enlarged cock.

Her tongue for the next womb, she thinks, and her cock for all the ones after. At her level of spellcasting proficiency, she can't actually cast the spell to increase her tongue's length silently, and regrettably increasing it's size is more complicated than simply increasing the flow of mana to her active spell. Ceasing to channel the spell would withdraw her tongue faster than doing it manually would, so she does that.

Through Aire's shields comes the sense that she's doing this so that her tongue can be longer, so she can go deeper, if Tanthe's processing things enough to notice things like that. She rather doubts it, but perhaps her tongue withdrawing will trigger that.

And then she incants the spell again, all the same syllables but the corresponding runenodes being used slightly differently this time, and she makes her tongue as long as Tanthe's torso. And then it slips back in, pressing deeper, fast this time, until it finds Tanthe's womb once more, pushes yet farther, and finds the next entrance to press itself against.

Aire's tongue withdrawing certainly does trigger a response, but the response is mainly needy squirming.

When she feels it against the next entrance—

She knows, on some level, that something is wrong. Some distant subconscious part of her has been laboriously adding two and two this whole time and has finally come up with four.

But her distant thoughts of caution and uncertainty (and grief and betrayal) are very small, next to all this pleasure. And right now, in the moment, immersed in sensation and desire, it's much easier to cast all that aside and think only of how much she welcomes that beautiful tongue and wants to feel it even deeper inside her.

Aire feels something, actually, when Tanthe feels grief. She doesn't quite know how to process it, but she decides she doesn't like it.

Tanthe shouldn't be feeling negative emotions like that, Tanthe should be feeling pleasure. 

Well, Aire can get right on that.

Her tongue presses against the entrance to her next womb with more and more pressure, until, with another "pop", it pushes its way through.

This one is more like a doubling than the last. It's hard to get precise about the difference between double and triple here.

Once again, in almost the same moment that her mind expands, pleasure rushes in to fill it. She comes harder than ever. It lasts longer, and feels better. And it's not just that someone turned up the pleasure dial to a higher setting; there are thousands of tiny synergies at work in her body, one sensation playing off another that plays off another, from the tears in her eyes to the way her toes dig into the bed, and all of it is deeper and richer now that she's unlocked another womb. It's less like turning up the volume and more like adding another orchestra, with a broadly similar but ever so slightly distinct lineup of instruments, that plays in perfect complement to the first.

It's better, it's better, somehow it's better and this is still only two of seven. It feels like every good thing destined to come Aire's way in the next century has come all at once. She cums down Tanthe's throat again, almost intoxicated by the amount of pleasure she's inflicting.

She works again to prolong Tanthe's orgasm as much as possible. Her tongue works away, strong enough and purely massive enough with its increased size to push back better against the pressure of Tanthe's womb. Her hands work to ensure Tanthe has an orgasm in her breasts as well to carry her even higher. It's a shame her cock is only so long, but she as she orgasms down Tanthe's throat she works it in and out to give her just that little bit of extra pleasure.

And Aire, as Tanthe orgasms, thinks a thought outside of her shields. Her cock, swollen with magic until it can fill Tanthe completely, with it's head positioned at her entrance and slowly thrusting inside. She leaves it there, hoping it feeds into Tanthe's thoughts. There's something so much better than her tongue she could have inside her. Would she like that?

How does Tanthe respond to this thought? Is there even enough left, under all that desire for pleasure, for her to pick up on it at all? If she reacts sufficiently poorly (somehow, Aire does not actually put it past her to manage it) as she comes down from her orgasm, Aire can pull it back behind her shields and thrust her tongue deeper to distract her. Hopefully it won't come to that.

Her first instinctive response is positive: yes, good, pleasure, being fucked and filled, more of this beautiful thing, please do.

The old ingrained instincts are sluggish by comparison; it takes a couple of seconds for her to belatedly realize that, yes, the suggestion being made is precisely her worst fear in the entire world.

This thought percolates slowly through her pleasure-addled mind.

Briefly, distantly, she thinks of trying to stop. But what would be the point? (Grief, betrayal.) She thought Aire was safe, and that was a lie; and that means safety is not within reach. There is no option here to go back to who and what she was. There is no option here to undo the damage done. The normal life she clung to with such determination is already far beyond her grasp. There isn't even any reason to think that Aire would stop if she asked; this is clearly what Aire wants from her, and she's in no position to escape, as far gone as she is.

So she might as well give in and enjoy it.

She discovers when she pulls her mouth off Aire's cock that she is sobbing, tears streaming down her face. It feels paradoxically pleasurable. Crying your heart out is just another sensation, after all, and sensation is what her body is made to crave.

Clumsy and uncoordinated, she attempts with mixed success to lie down on the bed and spread her legs to be fucked. Her control of her telepathy is utterly shot, she's just dumping her whole brain out there and couldn't stop if she tried, but she wraps her mind around Aire's image of a hard cock ready to fill her, and she lets herself want it as deeply as her body tells her to.

When she sees Tanthe realize what’s going on in full, not on the level of little niggling thoughts but with the full light of her attention focused on it, Aire is astonished. That is not a simple flinch reaction. That is Tanthe in full, her mind active despite her already hyperactive sexuality being multiplied ten times over. She feels almost jealous. She’s not that capable. Oh, she’s close as far as people go, she thinks, and maybe with enough practice she could equal that. But then again, maybe not. Aire thinks she does have more raw willpower than Tanthe, she’s just used it less well. It’s incredible, and Aire is struck once more with the tragedy of a world where she’s only ever encountered one Tanthe. Where after this is over she’s more than likely going to have to go long decades before she manages to find anything resembling another.

And then Tanthe is sobbing, and her reaction to that turns out to be surprisingly complicated. Now that Tanthe knows what's happening, she can make choices. Delicious, delicious choices. And the fact that she's still reluctant, that she had that thought about Aire not stopping if asked, means that she can still involve elements of temptation in things. But she feels frustrated with herself for not managing to somehow steer around that particular tearful reaction. This is so close to perfection that she can taste it, but Tanthe crying like that is… unpleasant, somehow. Perhaps because she can feel her sadness over her telepathy?

Well, time to get to work on fucking all that sadness and pain away. She needs to make it so good that Tanthe doesn't regret it at all. She wasn't lying when she made that promise, even if she did mean it differently than Tanthe thought she did.

She grows her cock to just large enough to fill her third womb to the brim and knock lightly on the door to the fourth, if her third is the same size as the first two. She wants Tanthe to experience Aire’s cock getting bigger inside her again and again with each womb Aire penetrates, that seems so much better than leaving enough out that she can’t kiss her without contorting herself awkwardly, that Tanthe can’t push her hips back up against Aire’s and get all of her inside.

She strokes her cock for a moment to let Tanthe take in its new size, so much thicker than her tongue was, and then she moves forward and places her cockhead against Tanthe’s entrance. She pauses there for a moment to look down at her and pay attention to her thoughts. If Tanthe is impatient with this momentary pause, well, she can move her hips, can't she? Aire's cockhead is already pressing against her entrance, only not inside because Tanthe's pussy is tight enough that that's not quite enough force. If she wanted, she could push back a bit, and it would slip right in.

She wants to look into Tanthe's eyes as they pass this point of no return, and burn her thoughts into her memory.

Tanthe looks up at her, tears pouring from heart-pupiled eyes. Her thoughts aren't formed in words. Sensations, emotions, impressions, inferences and relationships between concepts. The comforting blanket of security formed by her knowledge that Aire is safe has started falling away, and it's not done yet but the pieces that remain aren't affecting her decisionmaking. She knows she isn't safe. She knows she never was.

She lets go. Coherent thought isn't doing her any good and it never will again. Conscious awareness is just a source of pain and despair, so she repudiates it. It's a version of the same trick she used much earlier to focus on the moment and avoid having desires, just aimed slightly differently. Her restructured mind is built to think of nothing but sex; all she has to do is get out of its way.

Still crying, but now experiencing it only as more sensations in the symphony, she embraces Aire's beautiful body and welcomes her beautiful cock.

And Aire pushes in. Her cock is so much thicker than her tongue was, and Tanthe’s pussy is tight. Fitting her cockhead inside requires pressure, but not too much. And then it’s in, and she slowly thrusts forward, and then back, and then forward again. Each thrust just a little deeper than the last.

As she does, she leans forward and kisses Tanthe on the lips for a moment. Then she moves down to kissing and suckling on one breast and playing with another as a tentacle emerges from behind her back to thrust through Tanthe's lips and penetrate her throat.

And then the slowly increasing depth of her thrusts causes her cockhead to press against the entrance to Tanthe's first womb. She's greedy to push through it, to push deeper,  feeling almost drunk on the memory of what pushing through those entrances did to Tanthe in the past.

Her womb entrance provides resistance, still, her cock is thick enough to ensure that. Less than if it were the first time, she thinks, it's relaxed a bit, but she can still feel a delightful squeezing as her cockhead pushes through. Popping out to the other side feels good enough she decides to do it again. And again. And a few more times for good measure. 

When Aire kisses her, Tanthe kisses back. When Aire shoves a tentacle down her throat, she swallows it eagerly. Every new source of stimulation is another note in the symphony of her pleasure.

When Aire penetrates her first womb—the gate has already been opened once; there's no new expansion of her perceptions. But she does come, hard, in all the glory of her tenfold-greater senses, and cling to Aire and squirm under her and spill her thoughts of lust and pleasure and desire all around them. And being fucked there gives her aftershocks that build the pleasure of her orgasm even higher.

Good. This is what Tanthe should be experiencing.

Aire nuzzles into Tanthe's breasts, licking at one nipple and occasionally gently nipping it while her hand plays with the other. Her tentacle thrusts deep into Tanthe's throat. As she does, she slowly adjusts in the direction of what Tanthe's telepathic broadcasting suggests she'd like best.

Aire's cock moves moves deeper in, not bothering to stop for long at the entrance to Tanthe's second womb. It's only a few teasing thrusts before she's pressing against the entrance to her third. Aire intended to stop here, to let Tanthe decide to take the plunge. But Tanthe isn't really in a state to be doing something like that, right now, and trying to push her into one would be risking her instead experiencing more of that sense of betrayed grief. Far inferior to delirious pleasure. She can let Tanthe have a little more control later.

No, better for now to just give her as much pleasure as possible. 

Once she makes the decision to push through into Tanthe's third womb, she finds her cock twitching and jumping, on the verge of orgasm from that alone. She thrusts, and the sensation of her cockhead pushing through to the next womb combines with the knowledge of what this penetration is doing to Tanthe to drive her over the edge into the best orgasm of her life. Euphoria washes over her in waves as Tanthe's womb contracts around her cockhead, the sensation doing its best to drive her out of her mind with pleasure. She thrusts back against the pressure, hips nearly beyond her power to control. A moan falls from her lips, beyond her power to hold back.

Tanthe is just barely coming down from her previous orgasm when the next level of pleasure overtakes her, her mind opening up into a vast space that immediately floods with orgasm. All the little things, being touched and kissed and nibbled and throat-fucked, build up together into a wonderful background that complements and enhances the main event. It's more bliss than a human mind should be able to hold, but it fills her up just right, like Aire's wonderful cock filling her wombs, snug and tight and so so good.

And this is just the third gate. Not even halfway there.

Not even halfway there.

After their orgasms are done with, while she slowly works her cock in and out of Tanthe's third womb, she finds herself contemplating the thought of just growing her cock large enough and bursting through all of Tanthe's remaining gates at once. But no, she's already rushed this more than she should have. She won't make that mistake a second time.

She'll go slowly, and pleasantly, and let Tanthe bask in the pleasure of each of her gates opening. She only gets to do this once, she should get to experience every bit of it.

Aire realizes she hasn't even checked to see if Tanthe's ass feels as good to her as her throat. From everything else about this girl, she expects the answer is yes. To forget something like that suggests she was rushing things to an unacceptable level. Tanthe only gets to experience this once, Aire only gets to experience this once, she can't afford to miss things like that. 

It will be nothing more than supporting pleasure to the main event of penetrating Tanthe's wombs, but that's no reason to neglect it, no reason at all.

Another tentacle slithers out from her back to go down between her legs, under her cock, and press against the bud of Tanthe's ass, and then slowly move to push inside. She discovers that Tanthe's self-lubricating even there, and even interestingly textured. Well, this one really was made for pleasure, weren't they?

To extend a metaphor rather farther than it was meant to go, it's like all of those orchestras just discovered that they've had a flute section this whole time. A new dimension to her pleasure, not putting any more space in her head than she already had, just filling up the existing space even more.

She loves it.

Why didn't she think of doing this earlier? This adds so many more options! She could have telepathically told Tanthe it wasn't safe for her to push her tongue deeper into her pussy and offered to test if she liked her ass played with too! She could have pushed that later into convincing Tanthe that obviously anal wasn't sex, and so they could do that just fine. After all, a cock was fine in her throat, so surely a cock must be fine in her ass? But no, that opportunity is passed, now. 

Well, if she ever meets another Tanthe in the future she can add that to the seduction schedule. Even if it takes decades she's bound to eventually find someone else who will come apart into pleasure if only they participate in certain sex acts and who has a beautiful, mind full of expertly self-crafted defenses that expands to fit more pleasure and can reach heights of enjoyment undreamed of-

She really isn't, is she? What if there's only one Tanthe, ever? Well, she'll keep this one nice and safe and happy and always enjoying herself. If she isn't already unaging she'll find a fleshcrafter to grant her regeneration. She won't be able to do this with her again, but she will be able inflict earthshattering amounts of desire and pleasure on her. That's more than half of what she enjoys about what she does. She'll still need to find people to bring down this slope, even if they can't reach the wonderful depths of pleasure Tanthe can, to satisfy the other half, but Tanthe alone and some excursions out to find people to break should be enough to keep her satisfied for as long as she wants. She'll need to find a way to keep Tanthe happy while she's gone, maybe a cooperative Tentacle Pit? Or the bar itself, perhaps.

Yes, that's what she'll do.

She doesn't let her thoughts distract her from pleasing Tanthe as much as she can. Her tentacle slowly slides deeper into Tanthe's ass in time with her thrusts into Tanthe's pussy and soon its depth matches that of her cock. Then, she times her thrusts into all of Tanthe's holes and her caresses of Tanthe's breasts to move in unison, making the crests and troughs of pleasure synchronize.

This approach is very clearly building Tanthe toward her most earth-shattering orgasm yet, the full power of all her erogenous zones combined and synergized into a perfect unified whole.

(Well. All except her remaining wombs, that is. They'll get there.)

It takes some time to get there, but when she does finally come like this, it's glorious. Every sensation in her body harmonizing together, a full landscape of pleasure in every dimension, her wonderfully filled throat and ass and cunt and first three wombs, her breasts being so expertly played with. (As Aire will have learned by now, she likes many forms of sensation on her breasts - squeezing, pinching, twisting, groping, stroking, intensities of contact ranging from gentle caresses to light pain - but seems to appreciate variety most of all; she responds very well to shifting back and forth between a rotation of unexpected pleasures.)

As it all comes together into a pleasure greater than she has ever experienced, there's almost no room in her at all to feel anything but good. She radiates pure sensory enjoyment in all its depth and glory.

Seeing that, feeling it secondhand, feeling Tanthe clench around her, Aire lets her control of herself slip, just a little, so she can enjoy this to the fullest. Her mental shields drop just enough for her to feel a bit more of that pleasure Tanthe's radiating. With that drop, her pleasure, her lust, and her greedy desire to keep Tanthe, to spend the rest of eternity inflicting pleasure on her, all slip the bounds of her shields.

She thrusts her cock as deep as it can go inside Tanthe. The head presses, just slightly, against the entrance to Tanthe's fourth womb. It's not long enough to penetrate it, not yet. Just enough to teasingly press against it, almost enough to go through. As Aire's cock jumps and twitches and spurts, she finds her thoughts lingering impatiently on the idea of pushing through that entrance.

What a coincidence; Tanthe's thoughts, as she comes down from that utterly fantastic orgasm, also center largely on the idea of Aire pushing through that entrance. She wants it. She wants it very badly. Having that unopened gate teased feels so good, deliciously tantalizing, and fills her with the desire to be opened even wider and fucked even deeper.

Aire casts her spell, identical down to the syllables for all that the runenodes are being utilized ever so slightly differently. And her cock grows thicker, and just enough longer to push through and fill her next womb to fullness. As she does, she slides her hips back to ensure her cockhead stays in the same place.

And then she goes back to teasing Tanthe's entrance. For a bit. All the while slowly working her up towards another synchronized orgasm but not quite pushing her over it.

And then she sends Tanthe the idea of switching positions, Aire with her back against the headboard, Tanthe sitting upright in her lap, wrapped up in and penetrated by a dozen tentacles and Aire's cock, her front squished pleasantly up against Aire's. Then she could bounce up and down as hard as she wanted, or even sit down on Aire's cock extra hard and push it in through her next entrance. She wouldn't have to wait for Aire to decide to push through, she could do it herself. Wouldn't that be lovely?

There is a certain amount of background doubt about Tanthe's ability to successfully coordinate moving her body in order to take actions, but mostly what she feels about this prospect is lust and desire.

And then Aire extends more tentacles from her back and uses them to gain the leverage required to reposition them with Aire's cock inside Tanthe the whole time. Aire's face nuzzles into the junction of her shoulder and neck, and her hands wrap around her back and squeeze her tight. And then those tentacles wrap gently around Tanthe in a dozen places to caress her. Some position themselves to play with her nipples, others under and around her breasts and hips. Some squeeze her affectionately around her waist. She even has some around her shoulders. Most importantly, the ones in her throat and ass now have company! Isn't that nice? 

All those tentacles go to work keeping Tanthe just shy of a synchronized orgasm.

See, Tanthe barely had to move herself at all! And, well, if Tanthe can't manage to move herself up and down on Aire's cock, she can ask Aire's tentacles for help. They'll move her just as she desires. 

It's wonderful, soft and warm and held and so so full. She squirms slightly, wanting more, barely able to articulate herself even in her own thoughts. Aire's tentacles feel so good, everywhere they touch her, especially inside. Aire's cock feels so so good and she wants more of it, wants it deeper, wants it to press up inside her and open the gate of her next womb and flood her with pleasure again.