Archive of Our Own ^beta

- Sweetie, it’s gonna be alright.

It wasn’t and she knew it. But Kali Belladonna, a cat faunus of truly maternal curvature, was a wise woman. For most of her life she stood shoulder to shoulder with Ghira, the leader of their people, and as such learned the value of sometimes not telling the truth.

Indeed, as the leader’s wife and assistant she wasn’t unfamiliar with colorful half-truths and hopeful lies. Yet no amount of experience could have made it easy this time, for today she wasn’t lying to some eager recruit. Side by her side through the evening forest on the edge of the Vale strolled no other than Blake Belladonna, her daughter and her pride.

The young huntress-in-training was sullen, with ears half-folded and posture hunched. One of her arms was hanging limp while the other gripped its elbow, and her face was a dark mask of sorrow. The girl’s bright yellow eyes, which only recently shook away that distrustful anger Adam infected her with, grew distant over the last few weeks.

- Stop it, mother. I’m not a child anymore. – Blake paused, stopping in her tracks. – Dammit!

With a groveling sound escaping her clenched teeth, she kicked up a cloud of dust. The girl’s hands tightened and the one grabbing her elbow had its finger painfully sinking in, nails scratching the flesh. Abrasive red streaks crossed her perfect skin much to mother’s frown.

- Sweetie, you can’t…

Kali reached her hand in attempt to sooth her daughter, but the younger faunus had none of it. Before her fingers could connect, the huntress-to-be reacted with cat-like finesse, instantly evading her with a spin in place. Now, they were face to face – one worried and the other angrier than ever.

- Yes I can! – Shouted Blake so loud it spooked the birds away. – I wasn’t there for her! I wasn’t there, mother, I wasn’t… I wasn’t… I w-AAAH!!!..

Like a dam broken, emotions of the girl poured out alongside rivers of tears. Her face scrunched into a painful grimace of misery and heavy throaty weeping rang aloud across the forest. When Kali ran to her, she almost fell into mother’s embrace.

- There, Sweetie, there…

Said the older cat faunus, hugging her daughter, hiding pain of her own behind the care. Recent memories flooded her own mind, of a room with soft walls and of a beautiful white-haired girl, so delicate and lean, curling into a ball in its corner. Disheveled, screaming, undone as a person – diminished into less than a shadow of another huntress-in-training.

Of her dearest daughter’s friend.

- It’s gonna be alright, Sweetie. – She lied once more. – Blaming yourself won’t fix anything. Focus on your training. Be patient. Then, make them pay when you are ready.

Kali Belladonna would rather not call for revenge. Not for grimms’ sake – Twins forbid, she had no more sympathy for those monsters than anyone else! – but because she knew how well Blake would follow this advice. The advice that could easily bring the worst in her daughter, turning her little sweet angel into another Adam Taurus.

On her scale of terrible fates that was something alongside being toyed with by a creature of grimm.

It would take a few soft warm minutes for Blake to somewhat recollect herself. The girl wiped what was left of her tears, made a step back and gave the older Belladonna a serious look.

- I will, mom. Training, payback – all of that and more! – She smiled, if weakly, the expression mirrored by her mother. – But now… I think I need some alone time, ok?

Kali’s smile grew wider and warmer. She hugged the girl once more, giving her a kiss on a forehead – one that Blake tried to avoid, playfully, but wasn’t successful.

- Of course, Sweetie. Remember that meadow half an hour ago? – She asked, to which Blake nodded. – I’ll wait for you there.

- And I’ll catch up when I’m done sulking around. – The two laughed at her self-mockery. Then, the huntress-in-training switched to more serious tone. – Just be careful, mom, ok? I know this forest is supposed to be safe, but you’ll never know. I hope my fit didn’t attract any grimm-related attention, ha-ha!

- Oh, don’t you worry – this kitty has claws. – The woman gave her a playful roar and scratched at the air, earning them a new laugh. – Now, go! And don’t sulk too much, or your eyes will start packing bags!

Her daughter bid Kale farewell and ran away, quickly vanishing beyond the next turn. She allowed herself another smile – this part of the forest was as safe as the forested outskirts of Menagerie. Located inside the protective walls and frequently patrolled by Beacon’s renowned hunters, it provided ample fresh-air recreation to the citizens of Vale. But still, she appreciated Blake’s concerns for their safe-being – habit of keeping a high alert promised to make her girl into a good huntress, or so she thought.

Half an hour later, the older Belladonna reached the meadow – a rather remote place short walk away from one of smaller rarely trotted trails. Throwing her shoes away, she enjoyed a barefoot walk across the grassy ground, and with shirt casted aside and only blouse remaining, allowed the freshness of light evening wind to roll over her. A good place, she thought, in some aspects even better than the forests of Menagerie – at least, it wasn’t nearly as hot as her homeland.

Soon, the curvaceous cat faunus found herself laying on the ground, arms folded behind her head as a pillow. The sun was setting, casting bright crimson across the greenery – the sky above was almost clear, with very few lazy clouds sluggishly crossing the green frame of tree canopies. Half-dozing, she eyed a butterfly dancing through the air like a petal before landing on her big toe.

It was that moment Kali noticed something unusual. In the backdrop, in the corner on the other side of the meadow grew massive oak tree. Not just old – an ancient relic of some bygone era, perhaps older than human settlements in Vale, it was partially dead with half-empty canopy. Many hollows dotted its vast trunk and near the ground level one gaped so wide it could hide a few people.

Seems that cat fauni shared with their four-legged ‘cousins’ not only bodyparts but curiosity too. Kali’s interest was picked instantly, ears jumping on her scalp as she stood up. With her sleepiness gone in but a second, the mature woman carefully pattered towards the curiosity.

Never in her life had she seen a tree hollow so spacious, so… Picturesque? Story-esque? She wasn’t sure on the correct terms, but the thing indeed looked like something straight out of a book or a picture. A wizard would turn one into a home, a hero would hide in them…

And a villain would lay in wait. Ignoring slight premonitions, the curious woman tip-toed next to the gaping black maw, leaning to look inside. There was the strongest smell of rotting wood she ever smelled, with a tint of strange sweetness to it. And darkness so thick even her faunic eyes couldn’t pierce it for a few seconds.

Or, to paraphrase, to do so in time – you know what they say about the cats and curiosity. And indeed, when her bright yellow eyes finally adjusted, she saw motion in the shadows below.

When black tendrils shot out from the darkness inside the trunk, Kali Belladonna learned the famous saying the hard way. With only a yelp escaping her throat, her mature forms were entwined by several arm-thick tentacles as she was dragged half-way inside the hollow.

Blake marched through the forest with renewed spirits. The bitter pain of recent events didn’t fade – it was way too early for this, even if the attempts to cheer her up helped a lot. But mother was right, and despite what happened to Weiss she was slowly beginning to find her strength in purpose and duty.

On that walk alone she swore with all determination she could muster to never let such tragedy happen again.

With a glimmer of hope on the horizon for the first time since that terrible incident and a head held high, the huntress-to-be stepped on the meadow.

- Mooom!

She shouted, smiling, to hear no answer. Thinking mother may’ve fallen into heavy sleep, the girl scanned her surroundings but found only discarded shoes and shirt. Now properly concerned, she walked to meadow’s center to try and get a better view.

It was that moment she heard a strange noise. Coming from the furthest part of the meadow, which was completely obscured from the trail, it resembled a muffled voice.

Her ears stood up in terror.

- Mother!

The young faunus spun in place with vertigo-inducing abruptness. To the side, she saw a great oaken tree with huge hollow in its vast trunk. Her mother’s form was sticking from it and the view betrayed great distress the older woman was in.

Stuck half-way inside the trunk, Belladonna matriarch was struggling to get free. Her huge rump was shaking madly, bare feet kicking like wild bronco’s hooves. The sound her daughter’s ears have picked were her cries of pain and distress, dampened by the mushy walls of the hollow.

Blake’s eyes went wide. With her breath caught and her racing heart skipping beat after beat, she did the only natural thing – rushed to mother’s side. But the first attempt to pull the older Belladonna out of her predicament was proven strangely fruitless. Blake encountered such strong and unexpected resistance she fell down to the ground, almost yanking mom’s pants down.

- Ouch! What’s holding?!..

Raising her eyes, she froze mid-sentence. Something was moving under her mother’s blouse around the stomach. Shapes coiling and crawling in undulating lines, bumps rising and falling, ever restless.

- Shit!

Panicking, Blake grabbed her pistol-sword and ripped the blouse open, intended to cut away whatever snake may’ve been constricting her mother.

Yet found none. Instead, the very flesh of Kali’s own belly moved, disturbed seemingly from inside. Something slithered there, behind that layer of maternal softness. And every bump palping the flesh, every line-shaped protrusion distorting the skin were in synch with woman’s muffled suffering screams.

The face of the girl grew pale. To her shame and distress, she eavesdropped on the doctors discussing Weiss’ condition and as such knew what monster did to her friend. Vague as the terminology used may’ve been, she had enough imagination to fill in the gaps and paint the whole picture in nightmare-inducing details.

To her utter horror, it matched. This was the very same grimm. And her mother fell victim to it just as Weiss did.

When she was away, just like then.

That realization hit her so hard and hurt on so many levels she was left completely stuck, no greater runner than her mother. Yet the monster took its time, letting her feelings stew, for it was not a glutton but a gourmet, seeking to devour various shades of negativity. Fear and despair may have been the main course, but the Mistress taught it to be patient and to appreciate subtlety.

And gave enough power and wits to let it implement the worst punishments to her enemies. Especially young promising huntresses like this little kitty, who was getting ever closer to deliver it the desired dessert.

Blake’s turmoil was palpable, written across her face in strokes of tears, spoken in body language of shaking hands and slumped posture. She failed – as a friend, as a daughter, as a huntress; an utterly useless waste. Her promise to never let it happen again was in complete vain, held for but meager few hours. And now her mother suffered Weiss’ fate for her failures.

As the girl wallowed, the woman screamed through whatever was muffling her. Motion in her belly grew in intensity, the bumps turned into bulges and the flesh expanded, slowly but surely bloating from the inside. Tentacles were boring through the older Belladonna’s bowels, coiling innumerable, stretching abdomen of the woman in many ropes of flesh. The screams rising in pitch and desperation spoke of pain beyond bearable, and Kali’s thick legs danced macabre, like someone was tossing around a marionette, her toes curling shut.

Hearing the screams rise, Blake shook the stupor away. She was still a huntress-in-training, however a failure, and had a duty to act like one. There was no way she could get her mother out of this without the monster hurting the woman. And so, with the heaviest of hearts, the girl turned to run away and call for help.

Only to find the very ground of the meadow becoming alive with unnatural motion. Black slime-dripping tendrils covered in sparse vein-like strokes of red were raising from the grass. Now, resembling a forest of their own, disgusting and menacing in equal measure, they stood between her and escape, and help.

The girl hissed, pressing her ears against her head.

- Of fucking course!

Both of her pistol-swords swung to action. The nearest appendages exploded in black oil-like blood, cut down by rattling gunfire. And as the younger Belladonna made a run for it, a lot more rushed to apprehend her.

Only to be cut down. Blake snarled in spiteful triumph – even if this grimm was a great ambush predator, it made a big mistake of showing itself too early. And now was literally losing parts of itself as tendril after tendril fell down in twitching branches of flesh.

The edge of the meadow grew ever closer. A few steps away, less than a second of runtime given her pace. With hope bright, she made one final mad dash to clear the distance and as the branches of raspberry bush grazed her, the girl felt like a rock fell off her chest.

Blindingly bright was that hope. A good ambush predator knows well not only the patience and surprise but the value of confusing its prey as well. And this creature?

It was, perhaps, the best damn ambusher in the whole of Remnant.

Bigger than anyone but its Mistress could imagine, it treated the loss of limbs as one would nail clipping. There was always more, grown from dense suffering of its victims – losing even a few dozen put no dent into the creature.

No, instead the lost limbs served one simple purpose – distraction. For the creature loved nothing more than to sense that last hope being snuffed. Its previous catch, the one with white hair, fell an easy prey to a simple ambush – little struggle, little fun.

Not nearly enough to sate its appetite – an omission it was more than eager to fix.

- AAAAAHH!!!

Ear-splitting yell rang through the forest as Blake’s aura exploded around her as her legs exploded with sharpest of pains. Hit across the shins with speed of a whip and power of a sledgehammer, they buckled under the girl, sending her down a shallow slope. Branches were tearing into her skin and at her clothing, her body hitting roots and trunks as she tumbled down, losing one of her weapons in the process. Eventually, her fall was arrested by a tree, impact making stars explode in her eyes.

When her senses returned, so did the panic. Her remaining pistol-sword jumped to action as she pointed it left and right, frantically scanning the surroundings as her heart raced, pumping blood and adrenaline. But no matter how much her ears swirled and eyes darted around, nothing was picked. Clad in dusky crimson, forest was quiet, spare for her heavy breathing and mother’s almost inaudible cries.

Catching her breath, Blake tried to stand.

- OOOH!

To gasp in pain and growing panic. Under the obscuring influence of adrenaline, something was clearly wrong! Dropping her gaze, the girl saw her worst fears realized as she observed an unnatural bend to both her shins.

Icy needle pierced her heart and it sunk into the sea of despair as she wept in disbelief.

- No!.. No-no-no-no! Not now, please!

Her pleas were answered, but in the very opposite manner to what she hoped for. From the undergrowth and dusk-reddened canopies numerous tentacles appeared, sending shivers to wreck Blake’s nerves. Impossibility of escape dawned on her with everything it entailed, every coming horror her imagination could picture. The creature shook its tendrils in delight as whole day’s-worth of negativity was fed into its many black hearts.

Now, for its precious cherry on top! One last step for this kitty to make!

Another unfortunate detail of her predicament hit the young faunus. To better enjoy her time with mother, she chose a very remote part of the forest, one that saw few visitors even at weekends.

But today was a busy day, and the nightfall was stone’s throw away from the Vale. As dusk will grow blueish-dark and stars will dot the sky, no one was going to come here. Remnant be Remnant, its inhabitants were ever hesitant to travel through even maintained forests like this one. Because of that, none of the local trails were even lit, for there was no one to illuminate them for at later hours.

Blake’s lips trembled, corners curling down, as her face grew wet with tears. Sobs broke from her throat, hearty and terrified.

Not a single soul would hear their cries.

Everything poor Weiss went through and more was going to become their fate.

There was only one escape for only one of them. Heart heavy with guilt, her face a mask of gut-wrenching terror, Blake Belladonna put her weapon to her head and closed her eyes. Gross warmness spread through her underwear, soiling pants and the ground beneath, as she pulled the trigger, uttering one final word:

- *SOB* So!.. Sorry!

DING!

Her eyes shot open, casting a side glance. The bolt was open, stuck in backmost position. The clip was empty.

No aura, no weapons, no means of escape.

No hope.

And as her heart broke into tiny terrified pieces, the grimm got its most delicious tasty prize yet.

No longer had it any reason to delay the main course. Blake wailed in horror as the ember of her eyes reflected an avalanche of nightmares falling on her. Not minding a bit her wild aimless swings, they quickly stroke the pistol-sword out of her hand, coiled around the younger Belladonna and snatched her away.

The wailing girl was dragged all the way to the meadow. Through roots and rocks, branches and bushed, and plenty of leaf-covered dirt. No part of her escaped injury. Her skin became a tapestry of scratch marks and bruises, dusted all over. Her clothes turned tattered mess, equipment lost.

Legs of the young Belladonna, broken and bent, hit every bump. The pain was the worst she ever felt. And everything promised that this won’t be the last threshold it will cross.

The monster threw her across the ground with no care. Mere steps from her mother, still struggling and wailing, the younger faunus just laid there, panting.

Adrenaline wore off. Now, everything hurt. Even breathing – each inhale stung her ribs in a dozen or more places. She may have had more broken bones. She did not know. She cared even less.

All her mind could process were nightmares of her imagination, one more terrifying than the last. Tears ran down her face as Blake tried not to look at her suffering mother. Woman’s desperate wails were impossible to ignore, however.

- *SOB* I’m so sorry, mom… Dad… Everyone… *SOB* I’ve failed you all…

The creature felt almost enraptured. The kitty emitted sublime despair – thick, dripping and rich of taste. One deserving a title of one-dish feast.

Yet still not enough for it. For its Mistress was indeed cruel even to her own creation. What she gave it in cunning, cruelty and power, she took in ability to find satisfaction.

Not merely satiate hunger, no, Younger Brother forbid! That was for the lower types, brutes and bruisers all.

This one was almost sentient in its malicious wits. It yearned not like a hungry beast but like a maniacal person: twisted, inventive and methodical.

- AAAH! Stop! AAAAH!

A few smaller tendrils wrapped themselves around Blake’s head. Her attempts to pull them away were useless as she was pulled up, forced into kneeling position. Of course, it did disturb her broken legs. And of course, it hurt like hell.

Not being able to offer any meaningful resistance, Blake was forced to look at her mother, who now was starting to howl.

Kali Belladonna was bloated to the point she looked pregnant. Skin stretched red around the shapes of the nightmares inside, so much so it seemed to somewhat halt their ever-distending propagation. Only shallow bumps and coils appeared across the strained red abdomen, and for a few seconds it seemed as if the creature got stuck.

Suddenly, Kali’s howls reached crescendo of utter agony as tentacles in her guts sprang into action. Stretched skin went alive with motion, looking as if someone kept boiling water in nearly spherical shape of her bloated, suffering abdomen. The woman’s legs fell into a twitching mess, toes dancing, as her overloaded brain kept sending so many signals the muscles gave up on trying to keep up.

Then, it happened. Despite everything Blake learned from eavesdropping on Weiss’ doctors, her mind at first simply refused to process what she saw. Something moved right between the huge cheeks of the older Belladonna, like a prodding worm wiggling side to side against tight black pants.

Before bursting through.

RIIIIP!!! PFRRRT!!!

With an obscene sound, black tentacle emerged from the woman’s butthole in shower of slime. But nothing else – the substance apparently had cleansing properties, leaving not even a sliver of filth behind. The drops fell all over the forest floor, glimmering rubies in the light of dusk as Kali’s belly began to churn anew.

Did you really think it was going to be just a single tentacle? Of course not! Mature able body of the faunus lady was a playground far more durable than that scrawny blonde twig! And the Mistress taught one of her favorite grimms well on how to enjoy its toys to their fullest extent.

Another tentacle escaped the rosebud of the howling woman, stretching it even more. Until today, Kali Belladonna remained an anal virgin, and as such the third emerging tentacle tore her brown ring open, shedding a few thin rivulets of blood down her thighs. Robbed of her last remaining cherry in absolutely unnatural and horrifying way, she somehow doubled her howls as it happened, then finally fainted.

Wasting no time, guttural travelers tore away what was left of her pants. The whole lower body of the older faunus in all its curvaceous mature glory was left exposed to cooling air and her daughter’s terror-frozen gaze. Big feet and shapely calves, thick thighs and huge globes of her glutes, and dense bush crowning her maternity – all went on display as two of the emerging tentacles put her legs into near-perfect split. Even in her age, Kali Belladonna remained cat faunus through and through, still hiding a lot of agility beneath those maternal curves.

Too shocked, Blake could not muster enough strength to look away. The third sphincter-kissed tentacle was shaking in the air mesmerizingly. There was an uncanny intelligence to the action, an intent behind it. A gesture akin to how a fan would shake his fist when his team scored.

The beast could feast on the negativity coming off the kitty as she understood just what the intelligence would entail for a creature of grimm and for her, its prey. Every sweet horror running wild in her head, eating away at what’s left of her will was its sweet popsicle. It was almost gentle, if in a creepy way, when it tore away her clothes and boots, leaving the girl in naught but birthday suit.

If the monster was a person, however evil, it would have appreciated the look. Even with broken legs, scratched, bruised and covered in dirt, the younger Belladonna was a marvel. Sporting both grace and curves, agile cat faunus was a shapely athlete, hiding lean muscles under the thinnest layer of fat. Nowhere near the level of her love, Yang, she still had the abs and the calves, and the biceps. The little bushy atop her slit with a nascent up-shooting trail was the cutest cherry on top of her build.

And all that broken beauty trembled with an intense mix of negative feelings. So much so lower creatures of grimm probably felt it even beyond defensive barriers located day’s walk away.

This particular creature had every intent to add to that mix. And, turning its attention towards its older captive, figured out the perfect way to do so.

Numerous tentacles braided around Blake, immobilizing her into an up-facing spread-eagle. Then, with cruel slow deliberation, the daughter was moved towards her mother face-first. Until her forehead was pressed against bloated belly of the older Belladonna, sensing the movement inside.

Now, the place she came from was inches from her face. Meeting her gaze, mature crown of dark near-impenetrable hair sat across mother’s pussy. It stretched from the very ass of the woman to engulf the lower abdomen, trailing all the way up to the navel. Intense musky aroma came off it, enveloping Blake’s head and assaulting her nose, so much more sensitive than any human one.

With monster’s intent clear, the younger Belladonna went hysterical:

- No! NOOOOO!!! This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening! SOMEONE, HELP US!!! MMMPH!!!

Unceremoniously shown upward, she had to shut her mouth and eyes vise-tight. But nothing could save her from the reality, in which coarse hair of the her very mother’s crotch rustled against her face. And the smell invading her nostril, so alike the one of her precious Bumblebee, yet so gross with familial ties involved. The desire to vomit was as intense as the smell, yet she held for now, helped by realization just where would her puke go.

To make it even less bearable, the monster did a literal gut-wrenching move to the older Belladonna. Kali awoke with a howl only to howl even louder when she figured out whose warmth was being slid across her hairy crotch. That was all she can do, being stuffed and threaded mouth-to-ass by three whole tentacles with several more stuck half-way, the pain allowing no space to think of anything else. The woman too would’ve puked, had she retained her ability to do so.

Then it was Blake’s turn to howl right in her mother’s cunt, as the creature’s grip on her left arm grew. With it, the pain, as the young faunus felt her limb giving way until a blindingly intense stab scalded her senses – her forearm snapped.

The grimm was nowhere near done. Kitty’s lackluster half-assed performance imbued that clot of evil, which passed for its personality, with intense malice. It yearned for more and more it would take – until nothing of the two would remain!

Tentacles braided around the girl’s face, forming a mask of sorts. Her muscles put a valiant fight, but in the end weren’t victorious as control over her own face was wrestled from her. The monster forced open first her eyes, then her jaws.

Wailing in disgust, Blake felt the smallest tendril yet, tenth of an inch at best, circling around her tongue and pulling it out. Above, another two opened up Kali’s labia and a pink streak crossed woman’s pubic jungle. The girl could not avert her eyes or find any escape as she was forced to taste her mother’s flesh.

Musky saltiness invaded her mouth. The creature moved her flexible muscle sideways and in circles, lapping the tender warmth insides. There were no thoughts left in the heads of mother and daughter, only pure humiliation as they were forced to commit incest.

But after only a few laps, the small tendrils suddenly withdrew, allowing Blake to retract her tongue with a swiftness of hand scolded. Seconds came and went as she laid there, broken in mind and body, made to stare into mom’s pubic hair, tasting everything, trying to collect… Anything at this point! Even her distress began to dull under the strain of shock.

Which would not stand with the grimm. Angered once again with complete lack of efforts on her part, it snapped one of its many limbs at Blake’s right forearm.

- AAAAAHH-WAA-HAA-HAA!!!

Her scream rose and fell, morphing into lament, as she felt the breaking of her last functioning limb. The strike was so powerful her lower right arm hang limp, both ulna and radius pulverized. Spurred by pain, her mind once more became agitated with thoughts, which quickly took the direction of self-pity.

Not only did she fail on every level, she now became literally broken. Even if rescue came, then what? Would she ever be able to swing a blade or enjoy a stroll again? Or the wheelchair was her fate?

And if the help would be late? Festering wounds and gangrene?! Bonesaws and cauterizing?! A LIFE OF A FUCKING LIMBLESS PILLOW?!! DEATH AS THE ONLY WISH?!!

- WHAAAH!!! WHAAAAAAAHH!!!

The girl broke into tears, breath ragged with sobs. Even Kali somewhat calmed her wailing as the extent of daughter’s suffering broke through her own pain. And the monster cherished every little bit.

Yet still, was not satisfied. Its grip on woman’s leg constricted so much she began to wail again. As the skin grew red, soft tissues were pushed down, buckling under pressure that threatened the very bones beneath.

The message was clear. Left with a choice between letting mother’s own limbs to be broken and surrendering to monster’s demands, Blake chose her parent’s wellbeing.

And as such, gave the pussy she came from her first voluntary lick.

The creature’s tendrils shook in delight, forcing another portion of howls to erupt from Kali’s stuffed mouth. There it was, that mix of regretful pain and disgust of a forced choice! Such a tasteful delicacy!

While it delighted, its victims suffered. Belladonnas were a proud and stubborn family, Blake being no exception – so much so she sided with Adam Taurus of all people. These pride and stubbornness added another layer to their suffering, as both traits were being broken apart. Proverbially digested by this disgusting creature so drunk on their misery.

The young faunus took to her unwanted task with efficiency born of experience, making the hot passage enveloping her tongue wetter by the minute. Her friend and lover, her dear Bumblebee often found herself gasping for air, arching her muscular build, blonde hair sticky with sweat. And now all of this finesse was directed to none other than her own mom, whose howls gained in protest as the older woman was worked towards her very first lesbian orgasm.

Which came in form of a gasping scream and a waterfall showering Blake’s face. A veil of sticky cunt juices covered her as musky salty river poured down her coughing throat. By holding the girl’s mouth open, the monster ensured she won’t just suffer through this moment but will have to survive through it. As warm liquid filled her throat, she had to fight for every breath against ejaculation of her own mother, and many sticky drops landed in her breathing system.

With the older faunus’ juices invading her very windpipe, Blake grew barely conscious. The lack of oxygen clouded her brain, muting senses and thoughts. She could only feel that the creature was moving her. The blurry world around turned, and she found herself face-down, neck forcefully craned.

Then, the grimm gave its prey a dubious courtesy. Careful strokes of its smaller limbs cleansed her eyes of humiliating substance.

After all, it did not want her to miss all the fun.

Sticking from a tree hollow in front of her, was mother. Three tentacles poked from her bleeding, now-vaguely triangle demolished butthole, each two-fingers thick. Their bodies were descending into the pink darkness of the woman’s bowels. Two of them held those thick legs splayed while the third still danced through the air triumphantly.

Getting closer and closer to the face of the younger Belladonna. Terror engulfed her heart, stronger than anything she felt before – her mouth was still held open. There was no doubt as to what the monster intended for her fate to be, and a broken howl escaped the girl’s throat.

- AAAAAUUHHH!!!

Too hurt to even twitch, the younger cat faunus was forced to watch the tendril creep closer. The grimm took its sweet time savoring every moment of her helplessness. And after teasing its prey for couple of seconds, slowly pushed into her mouth.

It was like a long slug have crawled inside, making Blake retch. Even before it got a chance to reach the back of her throat, sheer disgust emptied her stomach. The monster paid no mind, feeling across her teeth as acrid taste of digestive juices was replaced by that of its slime. Similarly gross but way stranger, it had sweet putridness to it and was unlike anything the girl ever tasted. As if its uniqueness was designed to burn the experience deeper into victims’ memories.

Ever the patient one, the grimm first examined her mouth. Prodding at every nook it could find with appendage’s thinner tip, it moved around ceaselessly. Not matching its agility, the tongue was played with as if she received a deep kiss – or rather a perverse parody of one.

Choking on screams, Blake felt the tentacle inch closer to its goal. Teasing her, letting her to stew and wallow, it crawled on with its every move, the dancing of the tip a calculated show of terror. When the invader began its descent, the young Belladonna was already clenching her butt in anticipation.

The meadow rang with a new sound – gross squelching:

- HURK!! GLRK!! HIRL!!

With two-fingers worth of girth straining her throat and viscous slime invading her windpipe, breathing became a chore for the younger faunus. She choke and choke on the blasted thing, which descended with sadistic, methodical slowness, sick fullness spreading downward. A noticeable bulge appeared, distending her throat all the way to the base like it was a sock. Empty attempts of Blake’s esophagus to expel the invader failed, earning the girl painful cramps as her tender walls pulsed against harder raping flesh.

It was but a beginning of her nightmare, and Blake already almost fainted from sheer lack of air. Naturally, that didn’t stand well with this sadistic grimm – it was way too hasty with kitty’s little twig of a friend. Blondie was robbed of too much oxygen and while it on itself was a nutritious source of suffering, it dulled her senses too much.

Not a mistake the creature wanted repeating now that it caught two even lovelier preys. And so, the tentacle in girl’s throat went from straight to spiral. Adding stretch and pain to already stuffed passage but leaving enough space to breath.

Now, with air rushing inside Blake’s aching lungs, the young huntress-no-more returned to her sharp senses. Just in time to feel the tip reaching the entrance to her stomach.

Where it got properly stuck. The esophagus narrowed there, and the upper sphincter held with panicked might. Increasingly insistent prods pushed muffled yells out of Blake’s throat, but her flesh held for the moment.

Until the tentacle began to withdrew. The reason wasn’t lost on the girl, who renewed her protesting howls as it got to the level of her windpipe. Before striking at her insides with double the previous strength.

Her vision momentarily went white with pain and dizziness. Never in her life did Blake thought esophagus could hurt that much, for it felt like a spiked mace was pushed there. And as she wheezed in monster’s embrace, slowly recollecting her senses, new sensations flooded her nerves.

First came the movement and sickness. Tentacle fed itself into her stomach, coiling inside to slowly but surely fill all of the available space. And despite incredible slipperiness of lubing slime, the feeling of so much going inside her was in itself enough to make anyone vomit.

But that wasn’t the worst part. When her sight cleared of every little star and blurriness, she saw that it wasn’t the tendril that was moved. To Blake’s wide-eyed horror, it was her own body being pushed onto it.

Ever closer to her mom’s butt.

The final shove was so sudden that when her lips kissed the slime-cleansed torn asshole, the girl’s tongue slipped inside. As she felt incredible warmth and tasted blood, a new kind of panic set in with realization – she was tonguing her mother’s ass! Even with all shit long removed, it was too gross in itself, and her stomach doubled in empty, fruitless, painful retching. The poor younger Belladonna was involuntarily given the taste of her parent’s bowels, and the creature started invading her own.

Indeed, her tormentor was never content with what it already got. In search of new places to stuff, it let its tip go wild against the walls, scraping and prodding. The process was accompanied with panicked cries and howls of the poor cat faunus, sounded right into mother’s bleeding ass. The already struggling insides of her stomach went aflame with many sharp jolts as the monster left no place unmolested and unhurt.

Then, the nausea-inducing prodding inside her ceased. In its place came a new burst of intense pain followed by a strange growing fullness as the dark appendage breached the exit and began to slither deeper into her body. Soon, new sharp hurtful jolts forced gurgled yells from Blake’s tentacle-stuffed lips, as her tender guts strained against the intruder prodding its way through her.

The process was a panic-inducing torture, melting seconds together and broaching them into a complete blur. With her sense of time hammered out of her mind and broken body immobilized, the girl could only scream and wail to the beats of tendril’s merciless march.

On every corner it stumbled, palping its way forward against Blake’s flesh, each palpation exploding across her nerves with sharpest of pains. Her mother added to the screaming – each and every path of her innards may’ve been already trotted, but she was so much fuller. Where inside Blake the tentacle had some leeway, however excruciating, inside Kali even the smallest of motions had to be put against the other two intruders or the very stretched flesh itself.

The scene on the outside was equally terrible. The appendage was straining guts’ mucous walls, pushing against the abdominal muscles and distending the smooth skin of the younger cat faunus. Each act of incessant prodding was seen across Blake’s toned abs in bumps, which grew ever frequent, sizeable and numerous. And as the monster marched on, they too spread from the already stuffed and somewhat bulging stomach down.

Foregut quickly became a conquered territory. Now, it was midgut’s turn as its small intestines were swelling with coils of girthy intruder. Bumps were surely turning to bulges and bulges grew into entire ropes of distended flesh, each following the outline of specific section of the guts filled and stuffed.

As it was happening, all the while through Belladonnas’ shared ordeal, the grimm carefully kept their air supply going. Its tentacles were carefully arranged to leave enough space open so the two won’t starve of oxygen. With plenty to breath, the sharpness of their suffering never dulled.

In Blake’s head, nausea rivaled pain and panic in their mind-blowing intensity. Her stomach and esophagus were constantly spasming in futile attempts to dislodge foreign raping flesh, but only hurt their owner more. And as the awful fullness bored deeper through her body, the young Belladonna felt another expulsive desire down below. The conclusion was foregone and it made her shudder in humiliation of what’s to come.

The skin of the girl’s stomach grew red from the inner strain, becoming increasingly active with motion. The toned belly of the young huntress-to-never-be grew in size while losing shape. Each of the six packs blew up into a distention one by one, and when her smaller guts were mostly filled, none was left. Engulfed from stomach to lower abs in eerily active bloat, Blake’s abdomen now looked grotesque. As if some kind of terrible illness struck the young faunus, a tumor or a parasite.

And as it went on, the poor girl howled without a cease or pause, one sound seamlessly followed by another. Cramps and jolts of pain fireworking in her brain, nauseating bloating discomfort of guts made fuller than intended, sheer terror of the ordeal. It was agony as her body strained and negative emotions ate what was left of her will, feeding the grimm to the brim. The sensations grew so horridly intense even the fractures and bruises flared with new pain, radiating from her suffering insides.

Now, she was all pain and pain was all she knew. The deathwish engulfed what was left of Blake’s consciousness as she could no longer imagine any other escape. A mere shadow of a prospect of spending hours like this was sanity-splitting. She hoped beyond hope that monster will wear her down while she still had some wits left.

While she was still herself, if broken. Blake saw the results of what this grimm did to her teammate. Weiss was reduced to something below even a beast. There was no person behind those blue eyes anymore. She could not imagine a worse fate.

The same could not be said about the monster. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

The smaller intestines were cleared, stuffed to the brim, bulging her abdomen in many shapes of nightmare. Then, the growing fullness switched Blake’s focus as the bodily invasion reached her colon. For the first time since entering her mouth, the tentacle went up through her body as it was ascending the aptly named part of the colon. Soon, her whole midgut was stuffed, as the transverse colon became completely filled.

The pressure in her larger intestines mounted. The tentacle began descending once again, straining every bit of her walls as the slime it generously secreted dissolved any colonic contents it came across. Filth was turned into literal nothing, magic of its Mistress allowing such an impossibility, and when the time came to exit, there was nothing to expulse left.

And while the Blake discovered new horizons of pain and discomfort, her mother went through her own little hell. Being older and more experienced, she was a person tempered by tribulation more so than her daughter. To match it, the monster made her ordeal so much harsher, yet still some part of her conscious self refused to buckle.

Grimm’s intent for it was to be broken not through Kali’s own pain, however. That last dignified willful part was slowly stripped of its qualities by the suffering of the younger Belladonna. By daughter’s tongue stuck in her ass, by ringing howls of pain and by endless slithering through her own bowels.

For Kali knew too well just how horrible their shared experience was. As such, her much more intact consciousness painted much more vivid pictures of what her poor child felt. Her heart and eyes wept for Blake, but the woman was powerless to even utter a word of comfort. A dozen variously-sized tentacles distorted her throat so much her neck almost doubled in girth, with three of them making whole way through her.

Blake doubled her howls as the final barrier has been breached. She wasn’t new to anal – of course Adam took his sweet time to rough her butt up. At times, the cat faunus found herself biting into sheets, sticks or even her own fingers to stop herself from screaming. And had troubles sitting for days, much to her abusive boyfriend’s amusement.

But that was regular anal, and what the poor faunus was going through at the moment was anything but. It felt like a worst constipation ever, bloating and hurtful, as the pressure mounted in her rectum, going ever closer to the exit. Blake’s howls mixed with whimpers as foreign flesh parted her own and familiar sodomizing pain stabbed her across the stretched ring of anal muscles.

SPLLLRT!!!

Blake’s anus opened up. A small black dot appeared in its center, quickly growing in size and bulginess as tentacle’s tip touched the air for the first time in what felt like a lifetime of suffering for her. In mere seconds whole two-fingers-worth of girth was stretching the abused rosebud. And a few feet of black’n’red appendage danced in the air behind her butt: snake-like, menacing and gross.

Reveling in another black triumph, the grimm shook its tendrils and both Belladonnas howled like mad. Emotions coming off them were intoxicating – a sweet wine of multi-faceted misery.

But ever-fleeting satisfaction lasted mere moments. The creature’s terrible yearning returned, pressing, demanding. Against its own wishes, it ceased the thrashing, giving its victims small respite.

As much as it wanted to pluck them apart, drowning in that final surge of intense agony, Mistress’ conditioning spoke against it. She taught it well, that ancient boundlessly cruel witch, applying pain each time it got too touchy with another poor prey. She had tortured discipline and patience into its ever-craving tarpit of a mind. In a way only the Mistress could.

In that small time of respite, Blake’s consciousness somewhat got back together. The poor faunus had no idea how she or her mother were still alive. And no longer believed this outcome to be desirable.

There was not a single inch of her body not hurting. She was dragged against the ground, bruised and grazed. Her limbs were broken bent and useless. Her entire digestive tract was stuffed, bloating her abdomen from the inside. From jaws to asshole laid a highway of pure agony.

Against all of her hopes, the monster kept them both conscious. The very moment any of Belladonnas began to slip into oblivion, it sensed that nutritious stream of suffering thin. And gave their insides a good stir to keep them sharp, always.

The return of activity to her guts was felt by Blake as the end of the world. Or, perhaps, something worse, for there was no end to the pain as the tendril began to withdraw. Her bowels, which barely adapted to downward motion, were not stirred up, learning to feel hurt anew as the alien flesh scraped their walls.

When the tip was swallowed back by her now-reddened asshole, both mother and daughter were weeping in earnest. Blake thrashed against the slimy binding coils – the message was too clear, as well as memories of Weiss’ ordeal. And as little vigor remained in her broken body, the huntress-to-never-be put all of it into struggle.

However painful such struggle was, what was coming next promised to bring pain on whole another level.

All she accomplished was giving the creature its share of amusement. So little strength was left in her broken limbs it would’ve made even crawling a chore. Breaking from the bonds, which could crush bones and lift bodies like they were twigs?

Even Atlasian robot would’ve failed the task should the creature put its all into it.

The tendril moved downward once more. The grimm enjoyed every little twitch of its victims’ abused bodies. Every tone the howling throats took. What was horrible cacophony for a person, for this one was a melody. Pain nurtured it. Despair kept senses sharp. Sadistic yearning – a life-giving purpose.

And so it sought to fulfill that purpose through both of them. Being literally skewered through their whole bodies, mother and daughter howled and wailed in unison. Feeling their inside stirred and messed with by seemingly endless intruder, they were overwhelmed. Hurt, discomfort, nauseating fullness and incessant motion inside them drilled through their nervous systems. Imprinting, promising phantom pain for the rest of their lives, if such were to be kept.

They felt their entire bodies violated, raped in ways and places no one was ever intended to experience. Perhaps, the very first few souls unlucky enough to suffer through this precise nightmare this creature and its Mistress have wrought.

There were no thoughts. Only pure unimaginable misery not allowing them the escape of oblivion. Ever awake, with their sharp cat fauni senses aflame, they sung a cacophony of hurt through the forest.

Then, there was no sight, smell or hearing. Overloaded with too much stimuli, their brains shut down one sense after the other. Each collapsed into white noise, until the most primal remained. Taste, of sweet rot filling their mouths. And touch, of unending slithering motion through their guts. The creature has put dozens of feet of its flesh into them, but made them aware of every inch.

Finally, there was no time left. Thoughts and senses dissolved under the onslaught of stimulation. Only endless inner motion remained, sensation too guttural and basic to fail. Endless source of hurt to immense lose awareness of it. Endless source of the monster’s food.

Miles from here unusual grimm agitation was spotted beyond the barriers. Puzzled hunters saw creatures running into the walls and encampments, minced by gunfire and aura-reinforced blades. In his office, headmaster Ozpin was disturbed by numerous reports, rightfully suspecting just who was behind it all.

Yet, not in his worst assumptions would he deduce his defenses to be so utterly bypassed. Not expecting a creature of such monstrous power being able to pass the barriers, he remained blissfully oblivious.

And no one was sent to check the forest for unusual activity. The area simply fell in-between the charts and courses, and zones of responsibility. Leaving both women of Belladonna family to be at grimm’s mercy as long as the creature would will so.

Preferably, for eternity. Getting intoxicated by the absolute downpour of tastiest misery, the monster lost it patience, if a bit. Its movement grew anxious, rhythmless. Careful control over its prey’s air supply was lost and the two began to choke.

Now hit with oxygen deprivation again, Blake could not hold on anymore. Blissful blackout overtook her mind, giving a respite from the horrors.

When the girl woke up, there were no tentacles. She laid on the meadow, her body numb. Stars shone across the skies and dying crescent of the moon was in zenith. It was deep in the night already, and the cool air smelled of dampness and moss.

The young faunus smiled – silly you, managed to doze-off in the middle of the forest! Blinking sleepily, she recalled a strange terrible dream she had. The monster that had its way with Weiss was tormenting her in ways beyond horrible.

Blake frowned. She remembered pain: terrible, endless and time-melting. "Were you supposed to feel pain in your nightmares? Could it even happen?”, the girl wondered. She never heard of such things.

There were new memories tickling in. Screams and yells, wails and howls – an entire cacophony of sounds. Each was more horrible than the other. Each betraying immense suffering.

All strangely muffled. For some reason this last fact reminded her of Weiss, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around why.

Oh, and her mother was also there! They were strolling through these woods just the preceding evening. Blake wondered where mom was though…

An attempt to sit up went to nothing. Her body was numb, barely responsive, with a dull pain to its every movement. Concerned, she casted a glance around.

And gasped.

Not because she found herself dressed in nothing but bruises and dirt. Not because her limbs laid broken at awkward angles. Not because the monster’s tentacles danced all over the place, proving that it was no dream at all.

No, it was her mother, Kali Belladonna.

Namely, the state mom was in. The older faunus stood next to her, guts similarly empty of raping flesh, though not without a trace left. The woman’s abdomen was red with stretch marks. It also hanged a bit, not with the usual tight softness but strange mushiness to it. As if whatever harder structures inside, muscles and tendons, suffered lasting damage.

That still wasn’t it. For there were other tentacles invading the flesh of the older Belladonna.

But not her ass or mouth, not her pussy or even urethra.

Instead, horrifically, they went straight into woman’s ears.

Blake witnessed the scene with abated breath, frozen. Two whole nest-worth clutches of smaller, tenth of an inch-wide tentacles squirmed in the earlobes.

Going inside. It had to be it. No other explanation could fit what she saw.

Her mother’s face was expressionless and the woman stood still. Not a normal person-still – a statue-still. There were no small twitches, no nothing. It must’ve hurt and the recent violation of her whole digestive system shouldn’t have left the older faunus with enough strength to stand. For all sensible reasons Kali Belladonna should’ve been lying limp on the ground, twitching from stabs of pain.

But the woman did not. Standing still, she looked not at something but through the whole world with vacant stare.

No thoughts or emotions visible. Implications crushed Blake’s heart with blackest terror.

- NOOOOOOOOOO!!! Give her baaaack! Please! You!.. – Her face became soiled with tears. – Please, sir! Don’t take her away! Please…

Closing her eyes, the poor girl broke into incoherent sobs. But the creature drunk on her delicious misery did not finish tormenting her.

- She. Is. Here. Watching. Everything.

The voice was alien. Sounding through Kali’s throat, it did not belong to her. The girl never heard such intonations from her mother. It sounded strained. Struggling to form words and sentences.

Rising her teary gaze, Blake met mother’s. It too did not belong to the older Belladonna. Hiding a truly alien sentience, it invoked certain dread, deep and primal. Of look-alikes and apparitions.

That gaze was intense, but vague. It had interest but not curiosity. Intent but not will. Stuck somewhere between person, animal and robot, it had general shapes of emotions but not the details.

Except one. The one so intense and complex no human or faunus could ever fear to achieve it. Malice. All directed at the two of them.

Now the poor huntress-no-more truly realized what she was dealing with. The ground between Blake’s legs became wet once again. Sane-less screech erupted between her lips as she was braided by tentacles and risen into the air once more, her broken limbs spread-eagled and face to the nightly skies:

- AAAAIIIEEEEE!!!

What happened next put all her previous experiences to shame.

The creature aimed at her mother’s hairy cunt, but it wasn’t to just rape the woman. Three whole tentacles crawled there – perhaps the very same that recently explored and ravaged the bowels of the older faunus.

There was slight twitch to Kali’s eyelashes when her pussy got stuffed. All three appendages went in and then circled deep inside before emerging to intertwine above the woman’s clit. It looked like she was now sporting huge black’n’red dick the size of her forearm and then some.

Pointed proudly up and forward. Right at her wailing daughter.

The creature relinquished control over Kali’s body bit by tiny bit. First, it was her face, muscle by muscle. All the horror, protest and disgust appeared in wide strokes, slowly gaining edge and focus. Like someone made a clay or wax draft and was then adding finer details.

Even when her expression was fully realized, it still grew in intensity. Her legs moved on their own, getting her closer to her poor girl step by step. The intentions were clear, the inescapability of their fate too. Her heart fell apart in flakes of maddening despair. Her head was invaded, unending wriggling inside racing against emotions to see which would drive her insane first.

When she made the final step, the creature lowered her tentacle-wrought dick. It was inches from her daughter’s barely-hairy lips. Somehow, she felt the cool air around it, but at the moment was too horrified to take proper notice.

Now, with all figures put in place, the creature returned the gift of speech to her:

- No! Stop! Anything but that! She’s my daughter!

Or, perhaps, this time it was not a gift, but a curse.

Through the ages the Mistress sought better ways to propagate her goals. With the patience born of immortality, the ancient witch made monstrosities and atrocities alike, each increasingly twisted. In the process, she discovered many ways to make her malicious living tools sharper in body and mind.

One such way allowed only to her finest and most devious creations was as simple, as it was effective. Cruel curiosity of a child spoiled. Of bugs thrown into anthills, of butterfly’s wings torn off, of bird’s neck twisted. Experimentative. Adaptive. Educational.

For to fulfill the roles she carved for them, her finest creations needed to learn. No, more than that – to want to learn, spurred by the prospect of greater feasts on greater miseries! To be more effective, to be self-sustaining, they needed to seek new ways to hurt beyond even her imagination.

This particular creature was a good learner, every bit of idleness tortured away by the Mistress from its black hearts. Years ago, before ever slinking through Vale’s protective perimeter, through the many it preyed upon, the monster made a discovery.

There was a link between words and thoughts. Sometimes, when its prey exclaimed their distress, that sweet stream of negativity grew thin. As if speaking it out lifted some burden off one’s chest.

Other times, however, the very opposite happened. The moment fateful words escaped the lips they burdened, that miserable stream was turned into a river. The words themselves seemed to resonate with the feelings, and the greater suffering emerged from such resonance.

Which is exactly what happened to the older Belladonna. Once heard, her own words somehow bypassed the barriers she elected inside her heart. They made the situation dawn on her with even greater clarity.

The creature was going to force them to have sex. Not tongues slipping inside places not intended for them – an actual intercourse.

The creature was going to make her rape her own daughter.

Realization, already sharp, became a razor. Slicing the will and the wits, gelding them useless. Cutting her sanity into ribbons.

The woman too began to weep and scream, joining her voice with similarly hysterical, witless daughter:

- IIEEE! NO! STOP IT! MOM, PLEASE, SNAP OUT!!!

- I CAN’T! I CAN’T! BLAKE, SWEETIE, FORGIIIVE MEEEEE!!!

In one brutal swing of woman’s wide hips, the tentacle dick was buried to the hilt. Sharpest of screeches pierced the night as the poor huntress-no-more was spread open and bloody. She may not have been a virgin, yet the member was too massive for her unprepared passage. Red dropped onto the forest floor, marring the grass.

- AAAAIIIEEEEE!!!!

But her mother didn’t join her in voice this time. Kali gasped, breathless, as a new sensation flooded in. One that made the remains of her sanity curse herself.

She felt it. And it felt good.

The tentacles invading her cranium didn’t just snapped control over her body. It rewired her brain, allowing the woman to experience its own sensations.

The sensations of its tendril-wrought dick now ramming her screaming daughter. The older Belladonna felt every raping motion through tender walls as if she had a cock of her own. Every twitch of vaginal muscles sent waves of pleasure through her struggling, battered mind. Clashing against the aftershocks of pain, they created a storm threatening to raze Kali’s sanity to the ground.

She wanted to close her eyes but the grimm did not allow her.

- AAAAHH!!! Sthooop!

By the Twins, it felt good! Somehow, most likely due to creature’s meddling, it was better than any sex she had with Ghira. The pleasure itself was too intense to handle, but the circumstances made it a truly maddening experience.

For both of them.

- AIIEE!!! IIEEE!!! HIIIEE!!!

Crazy-eyed, Blake writhed on impaling tentacle cock as her own mother raped the air out of her lungs with truly punishing pace. Screams came in short bursts – the girl was almost as starved of the oxygen as when she was fully stuffed.

The pain alone could’ve driven her insane, but humiliation and despair made it even less bearable. And not just because of who was pummeling her cunt bloody. Unbeknownst to it, the creature found a perfect button to push – after Adam, Blake was no longer interested in men. In the past, she sometimes spent hours recovering from her boyfriend’s abuse, so a mere prospect of vaginal penetration scared her.

Now, she was getting that scare in spades and more as her throat grew hoarse from all the screams and her pussy dripped blood. The grimm was forcing her mother to put all the weight and bit of strength in every swing the woman’s prodigious hips made. The poor huntress-no-more was speared from lips to the core with each thrust, her very cervix growing hurt and tired from all the ramming.

Somehow, as minutes blended together, her senses began to dull. It was quickly proven to not be a mercy as the creature sensed its stream of life-giving sustenance growing less intense.

And so, the grimm decided to make one last step. It was growing bored with its toys anyway at this point.

Kali suffered through indescribable. No longer had she any wits or strength to process what she was forced to put her daughter through. All what was left of her she has put into fighting that awful sharpest pleasure growing in her loins. All the world and the circumstances of their ordeal fell mute around her.

The older faunus heard and saw, but her mind processed nothing. Only a simple phrase refrained through the remains of her mind:

“Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.”

She just had to hold on. She could not cum from the rape of her own child. If that happens, there would truly be nothing left of her.

The tendrils around her shook – if the creature had mouth, it would’ve licked its lips. Her last fight had such a bitter sweetness to it. But what was coming next was going to be syrupy.

Kali Belladonna felt herself leaning forward. Control over her face was wrestled from her once more. It took on a grimace that instantly made the now-paralyzed woman howl in the worst despair yet.

Lascivious mask of smirk and forbidden lust, it made her daughter froze with terror. She saw Blake’s sanity crumbling in those yellow eyes while her own stared with incestual hunger.

Her mouth was forced open. The creature put its best effort into her speech:

- I raised. Such a sweet. Little slut.

The last word stroke Blake like a whip. Something exploded in girl’s saucer-wide eyes. Broke irreparably as her mother’s hands gave squeeze to her perky breasts.

The scream that followed had nothing even remotely resembling sanity:

- AAAAAAAAUKHH!!!

It grew hoarse instantly, broken just like the mind. Lips of the older Belladonna engulfed one of her nipples, then the other. They traced up, each smooth a step towards her undoing. When the two set of lips combined in wet, tongue-wrestling kiss, her daughte went silent.

Even when the two parted, connected only by the trails of spit, speech did not return to Blake Belladonna.

It would never will. She was a failure. Monster’s prey and toy. Her mother was raping her.

There was no world to go back to. She let her own self slip into nothing. Undone.

Then, the creature returned the speech to her mother. And just like before, Kali’s own word hurt the woman more than what she saw:

- No… Sweetie, no! Don’t leave me… I can’t live without you… I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…

Her words fell on the neck of her own sanity like a guillotine. Then devolved into babbling as her eyes went vacant. Behind them, nothing shone anymore.

Both Belladonnas were gone.

When Kali’s body shuddered in her forced raping orgasm, she did not react. Neither when the tenta-dick unwrought itself and its components retracted from her pussy.

For a few moments, the two women were left unmolested. Mother slumped against her tentacle-bound daughter, head against chest. Heavy tears fell from the empty eyes of them both as they awaited the final release.

The grimm didn’t even shook. For a few minutes it stood in complete stillness, awing its own work.

Its magnum opus yet.

It was perfect in every way. It was something the Mistress would be proud for. Perhaps, she would even release it from this constant abrasive yearning inside its cruel mind. Give it a few better toys to enjoy through years to come.

Or maybe just end its miserable, misery-bringing existence. Spending what felt like ages in witch’s service, it would’ve agreed to that.

For even the best of its triumphs were to never last. And after many years of this cycle, it was growing tired.

Always, it craved for more, each sickly-sweet suffering sensation a fuel to an endless appetite. The more it fed, the more it starved, and the more it starved the crueler it became – self-sustaining cycle, an Ouroboros of nightmare.

Few minutes ago was the best moment of the creature’s existence.

Was – past tense. The satisfaction was already gone. The yearning already returned.

And it shook its tendril with malice no faunus or human could ever fear to feel. The cycle had begun anew. It will have to adapt, to invent, to learn. Endlessly, until the Mistress wills its own end.

There was a pained gasp as dozens of small tendrils invaded Blake’s ears. A yell when they tore through the first barrier, robbing her of hearing. A scream when they breached her cranium, starting their work.

And a howl when they remade her.

Two howls. The brain-altering motion was mirrored in Kali’s head. The two were stirred awake, dragged back from oblivion into the nightmare. Both Belladonnas were re-done, the very structures of their brains re-shuffled to bring as much of their selves back as was grimm-ly possible.

The creature was a good learner. And a good hunter. It had many test subjects. It tried innumerable ways to break and mend them.

- NO, PLEASE! JUST KILLS US!

The daughter was the first to respond, her mother quickly following suit.

- By the Twins, mercy! MERCY!

They were given none. Now, being fed a whole downpour of misery from its newly-remade victims, the monster got to the final stage of the Mistress’ plan for them.

Both were put in the air into crouching positions. Screaming Belladonnas were facing each other, their arms outstretched towards the starry skies and legs put into M-shapes. Broken limbs of the younger one bent at weird angles. It hurt like hell but compared to the rest of her experience felt like nothing.

Compared to what was to come next? Less than so.

The monster deemed their suffering enough to host its young.

New tentacles appeared, two in total. A bit thicker than the previous gut-stuffing feelers, they had tips crowned with cross-shaped lines. Those must have been the edges of the petals.

The tips were made to split, to open up. Both the girl and the woman heard about culmination of Weiss’ ordeal. They knew why the creature needed those tips to open.

The monster now controlling both of their bodies turned their gazes downward. To their nether regions, one densely-overgrown and the other bloodied.

Now, the two were forced to watch as those final tentacles approached their helpless forms from below. Slinking between their ass-cheeks to find now permanently-gaping buttholes.

- NGHHH!!!

One groan for the two as it happens at the same moment. The tentacles breaching their stretched assholes were in complete synch. They borrowed through, deeper and deeper, as they relived Weiss unnatural penetration.

- UAAAAHHH!!!

One howl for the two. This tentacle was indeed thicker than their previous invaders. And now, the creature cared much less about subtlety or patience. Huge rod of hard flesh was rammed into every corner, plowing its way onwards with grace of a drunken bull.

Their red-stretched abdomens were quickly bloating from the overly-active occupants. Higher and deeper, the appendages marched on, pushing ever-desperate howls from their lips. Their sights were locked by the creature to the ever-shifting points where each tip borrowed through them.

Larger intestines were filled in but a few hurtful shoves. Smaller ones became whole nests of agony, as they were stuffed to the brim. The creature didn’t forget to be rougher with the mother to make the experience of the two match.

In more ways than one.

Each felt more than her own share. In its arduous work of rewiring their brains, the creature allowed a direct flow of sensations between the two. Each suffered for both, felt humiliation and despair, and defeat for both. Their minds were slowly mended into a single shared clot of agony.

- HUUURK!!!

One squelching sound for the two. Contents of their stomach, naught but digestive juices, erupted alongside the slime. Two thicker tentacles made their way through their whole bodies, muting them both, muffling their agonized howls.

- OOPH?!

One confused sound for the two. Their gazes were switched to the tips now dancing through the air. Getting closer to each of them. Neither could believe what they saw and felt, as both their mouths became double-stuffed.

The creature’s egg-laying tendrils returned to their bodies. Each of the two appendages entered the ass of one of its preys to escape through her mouth and enter the mouth of the other. Now, Belladonnas were forced to re-live their previous horrid experience as the appendages broke into their already filled stomach in search for a way deeper.

There was a gap between the tentacles, arranged in such a manner as to allow both to breath unobstructed. To feel unobstructed, sensing every jab and ram of the descending flesh. Blake was experiencing previous horror amplified, now fully aware of what her mother was put through.

It hurt on every level and in every place, pain radiating so much it engulfed their bodies and their minds. Through the shared neural link it went, bouncing back and forth ceaselessly. Amplified by grimm’s cruel meddling, which kept their sanities in the state of constant, endless crumbling. It was too much to handle, too much to endure, but the creature kept them awake, forced their senses sharp.

If either could speak, they would beg for death. Either way, they would receive nothing but new pain.

Their abdomens were a bloated mess of shapes too horrid to even imagine. Blake’s anus broke bloody just as her cunt as the other tentacle barged through. She could not comprehend anything, but could not stop perceiving. Her own and her mother’s brains, reinforced by grimm’s own durable flesh, lost its ability to shut off.

- UUUMPH!!!

One muffled cry for the two, one final bit of protest. Their eyes were forced to look at the tips getting closer to their pussies. They bodies were forced to take the intruder anew. Kali’s last unviolated place of today was breached, so did her daughter’s bruised passage. Their suffering was intense, bouncing back and forth between the two like a beach ball of misery.

- UUUOOOHH!!!

One howl of defeat for the two. Their wombs were breached. The tips opened up into four petals, anchoring themselves. Women howled and howled, knowing well what was to happen.

Now, the moment came. The monster’s horrified victims were forced to trace the shapes emerging somewhere from the tree hollow. Round objects the size of the apple. The eggs of this creature of grimm.

Inching on with cruel deliberation, an endless caravan of unborn nightmares. Across the meadow-stretching tendrils. Ascending towards them from below.

Entering their asshole.

- UUUOHH! UOOHH!! UUUOOOHHH!!

Howl after howl. The most intense yet. Numberless. Shared.

The cavalcades of eggs split their bleeding assholes, burrowing into digestive tracts. It was beyond pain. It was beyond anything. White hot smelt of a feeling. Instant death of sanity, should the creature be merciful enough to allow the return of oblivion.

It was not, of course. Instead, the grimm allowed the full weight of sensations to keep their sanities in the state of constant crushing. Splitting at the seems but not falling apart. Holding tall against their owners’ wishes.

The eggs crawled up. The abdomens grew ever-distended. Round shapes traveled across snaking outlines of bloated guts. Every inch a torture. Every inch setting nerves and minds ablaze. Every inch followed by numberless others, melting into feet. Feet melting into eternity.

Belladonnas’ lips spread obscenely around the first pair of eggs to exit their throats. Somehow, the creature maintained a close control over their breathing. They never lacked air, never grew dizzy.

The eggs began to make a circle. Twin stretches of tentacles connecting their mouths were alive with moving orbs. One after another, they slink between the lips just as the others rose. Cracks were heard as jaws dislocated. Throats were stretched, the very voice boxes damaged from being hit by egg after egg. Now, even if rescued, the two won’t retain their speech.

Only broken sounds.

- KHAAA!!! UAAKH!!! KHIIIRIII!!!

Animalistic cacophony, one for the two. A concert of misery, an orchestra of agony. Sharp of sense and somewhat sharp of wit still. There were dozens of eggs in each of them, and each was felt. The cat fauni were aware of every small motion, every paced propagation.

They pressed against one another, the eggs. Through the strained intestinal walls. Collided into one another as they went in the opposite directions inside the two tentacles. Inside the two suffering bodies. Clogged, created congestion after congestion. Bloated the suffering passages even more.

The pair already looked pregnant when the endless stream of nightmares exited their assholes. Forced to watch, to never look back, they observed every movement in their stuffed bellies. Every inch that got the eggs closer to their cunts.

Until those two were breached, spread. Blake’s hurt like hell, already scraped bloody by the tentacle-dick. Kali’s fared better, hardened by the birth she gave and decades of sexual life. Both sobbed and howled as their neural systems were routed to each other. Agony multiplied.

- KHIIII!!!

One sound for the two. Vaguely, it was reminiscent of a sob, but too broken to give it an immediate recognition. The wombs of Belladonnas were breached, the entrances broken through. The first two eggs popped inside, hitting their cores with alien warmth.

And there were many more eggs to come. Defiling procession inside creature’s ovipositors pushed through, into the child-bearing sacrosanct of each woman. Eggs popped one after another, after another, then the other, then the next.

- UKH!!! KHA!!! UGHU!!!

Broken sound, one for the two. Their abdomens grew as the ovipositive streams continued – their ends finally in sight, as the last few eggs left the tree trunk.

Seven months pregnant, eight, nine, more. Twins, triplets, quadruplets, quintuplets, more.

The final eggs disappeared into their bodies from below. More entered their wombs. Somehow, they grew still, not having an escape of breaking open. It must’ve been something the creature secreted. It should’ve been it. Neither of the two knew, nor wanted to, their wishes lying solely on the ending of their misery.

Still, Belladonnas’ forms grew. The tentacles going inside their throats crammed the last two eggs down. The orbs traveled through their bodies, followed by nothing more this time. It did not bring any relief – the two were too stuffed, too hurt.

The creature emptied itself. Last eggs exited through their assholes and rushed to their wombs.

Now, the process was done. The belly of each woman could’ve hidden a grown person. Their minds now knew a sliver of new wordless definitions of suffering. Even if the slime or whatever allowed their bodies to stretch, it did not diminish the pain. The mind-shattering fullness they were feeling grew beyond thinkable proportions.

The two craved the end with the same desperation the creature craved to never end them. In that moment tormentor and tormented caught up, both equally basic in their aspirations.

STILL, THE GRIMM WANTED MORE.

It twitched its brain-lodged feelers and something happened. Both its preys didn’t realize it first, for there was no movement after the last eggs entered their wombs.

The wind grew still, yet they felt it going. Their breath too. Spasms of their guts.

Droplets of slime falling off the tentacles slowed down. More and more. Like molasses. Like tar. Like sugarized honey, forgotten in the far drawer. By periphery vision they saw the drops crawl into near-halt, trailing through the air as if it became hundred times denser.

Or, perhaps, it was the world itself slowing down hundredfold.

Only their minds didn’t follow. Their senses remained sharp. Their breathing almost stopped, sending them into instinctual panic.

- H-U-U-U-U-U-O-O-O-O-O-H-!-!-!

It was a quick exhaling howl, one for the two. It took a second. It felt like a good dozen minutes.

And then the creature retracted its ovipositors to plunge them back. Fucking the howling duo.

They were force-fed literal dozens of feet of living, writhing appendages. Stuffed beyond the breaking point of sanity with a hundred or more grimm eggs. Forced to experience time in slowest of motions.

Belladonnas felt every passing iota of every second.

And then the creature started to mess with their brains again.

Sense of time? Switched from slow to blitz. Touch? Alternating between amplified and numbed every second. Other senses? Turned on and off on a whim.

Personalities? Messed with. Violated. Broken and remade over and over again.

After endless hours of this torture, their brains were altered beyond repair. Entire sections were broken apart and rewired into new structures. Dozens of tendrils worming through the brain tissues worked with precision impossible for any surgeon. Entire spectrums of stimuli were cut off while others were amplified.

Their very personalities were gone on the physical level. The two were unmade, turned into creatures capable of only a damn few feelings, which were turned up to eleven by the new neural passages in their heads.

Made all-encompassing and burningly intense, four tyrants ruled the ruins of their mind. Sharpest of terrors, utter despair, endless hurt and something even worse.

Sheer lamentation of life not taken still.

For their deaths were no longer needed, so much misery the two felt. The creature’s young bloated their bellies only to be expulged on lewd display of twitching holes and squirming little forms.

It dragged them into the tree hollow and into the hidden cave below. That place was soon filled with thousands of black worm-like things, crawling all over the bodies of their unwilling mothers, sipping in the endless supply of the blackest feelings.

Batch after batch, the Belladonnas were turned into wailing, howling living incubators. Every twitch of tentacles, every egg entering their ravaged bodies, every squirming larva leaving them were felt with impossible clarity. Every sharp stab of terror and despair were felt by the mother and the daughter with intensity beyond mind-breaking. They felt what no brain was intended to process and in their altered state even insanity – how much that term was still applicable to what was left of their personas – was no longer an escape.

The two were simply left to endure, denied even death – a ceaselessly fertile breeding ground for the grimm that caught them.

When creature’s lair was discovered, Belladonnas already experienced something beyond words and nightmares. It may’ve been weeks outside, but inside the lair?

It was eternity in there.