She's so pure, and innocent, isn't she? Even when she's gasping desperately, even when there are tears in her eyes, even while her body is being ruined. Not enough. Not yet. She's so beautiful, and Eve needs so desperately to find out just how much she can endure.

She brings the slender ends of a pair of finer tendrils up to wrap around the tips of Teresa's breasts, perversely hard. And squeezes, cutting like wire. And at Teresa's foot she begins to dig and gnaw, prying up her skin.

It's getting worse.

How can it be getting worse? How can it...

Eve had left parts of her alone, before, and she hadn't realized it but that was a sort of refuge. And now those parts are being tortured too. And it hurts, it hurts, it's not enough to think that but it hurts --

She twists, contorting, desperate to ease the pain for even a moment. It does nothing. There is only one thing left to her.

She screams.

It echoes within Eve's sealed wings, the exquisite sound of Teresa's suffering. The tone is so high and pure and sweet that Eve feels almost as if it ought to shatter the jewels that lie upon the stones.

She watches the beautiful shapes that Teresa's mouth makes, open wide, her head shaking, tears flying from her eyes.

It's so good, and she wants more, and --

She squeezes down more viciously on Teresa's breast. No rest, no mercy.

There's a hitch in Teresa's screaming, and then her voice turns to hoarse, agonized cries.

Hmm. She liked the screams better. They were a fuller expression of her cherished victim's lovely voice. She can still feel all of Teresa's pain, of course, and it's still just as intense and wonderful, but...

What if she takes a tentacle and buries it firmly in Teresa's belly-button, and sucks and cuts at the tender skin there with all her might? What then?

She didn't think she had any breath left with which to scream, but she does.

Yes. Yes. That's it. She holds her grip for a long moment, drinking in the sounds. Eve's shuddering, her tentacles shaking, her eyes are half-lidded from the pleasure, and...

It's a little bit embarrassing, actually, to feel this good in front of Teresa. Odd, given everything, but somehow she's still self-conscious about it.

So she stops. Eases her hold on Teresa's sensitive body, withdraws her suckers and her blades. A little break for poor Teresa.

She's lying there underneath Eve, shaking and crying and bleeding. She hasn't really noticed that Eve's stopped torturing her. It still hurts.

Eve caresses her, gently. Strokes the contours of her blood-streaked skin with a hundred tentacles.

A part of her is a little shocked at how guilty she doesn't feel. All those years of holding back, and now that she's torturing a woman who might as well be her sister, she can't muster even a little shame?

Well. That was why she had to hold back. She always knew it would feel too good, too fulfilling, for anything to stop her once she started.

Besides, Teresa agreed to this. It's what they need. It's the only way to save Lynia.

So there's nothing wrong with enjoying it. This lovely, exquisite, beautiful ruin that Eve has turned Teresa into.

"Nobody else has ever seen you like this, have they?" Eve says. With her own mouth, this time. "Because you've never been hurt this way before."

"No," Teresa whispers. There is blood at the corner of her mouth. She doesn't know why. "Never."

Not like this... New, weak tears pool in her eyes.

She doesn't even consider lying, or refusing to answer. Because... Because she's terrified of what this creature will do to her. No, that's not it. It's because...she's laid bare. There aren't any secrets anymore. The sxelanth will take whatever it wants.

"Yes," Eve murmurs, and the sound is both of Eve's voice and the sxelanth's hiss. "Your pain is mine, beloved. Only mine."

She's... She's not being hurt anymore. She looks, and feels, and realizes. The blades are gone. The tendril crushing her breast is gone. Eve's stopped --

Something awakens in her the instant the realization coheres, strong and overpowering. Desperate, pathetic hope: and the tatters of her dignity are nothing before it.

"Is it over?" she whimpers, and her voice cracks. "Are you done? Are..."

Eve smiles.

She doesn't answer.

She opens her mouth and her tongue emerges once more, black and sinuous, the slender spikes all over it visible just beneath the surface.

"No!" Teresa whimpers. "Please, no more. I can't take it. I..."

What can she do? How can she stop it?

"This was a mistake! Eve, I -- if there's anything left of you in there, please. I-I didn't mean to agree to this. You have to stop."

She's sobbing again.

Strong tentacles wrap tightly around Teresa's bare thighs, and pull them firmly apart.

And panic rises in Teresa's throat. "Not there. Not there! You can't! I'll -- I'll -- "

But she doesn't have anything to offer the sxelanth.

Oh, she's so cute.

The tip of Eve's tongue dips and moves down toward Teresa's lower parts, leaving a trail of glistening saliva down her belly.

She can't endure what's coming. She can't. It's impossible. She -- she only has seconds. Surely there must be something she can do. Anything. Some magic words that will forestall the horrible, horrible pain --

"Do it to Lynia!"

Eve stops in place, and stares at her.

"Hurt Lynia instead. Go home and -- and torture her, rape her, kill her, whatever you want. You can do anything to her! I don't care! Just -- "

The tears are fast and hot. Her voice drops from a panicked shriek to a soft, frantic plea.

"Just don't hurt me anymore. Please..."