She was a singer. Weren’t all women once? She had the calling of the Siren, a Lorelei, destroyer of men. Circe, sorceress, witch. A voice so steeped...in magical chant and ecstatic, holy praise that God Himself would have seduced her just to listen as she reached her climax. In lilting jazzy riffs of moans and little pattering breaths; in low, agonized releases, in snarling, animal howls she was a singer. Awaiting a man to sing to. Thinking of the man she awaited, often in the nights, her fingers. Then a manipulative suction started.“What the fuck!” I shouted to no one. My startled initial reaction was to try pulling it off me. Then two more, what I had by now realized were tentacles, had each wrapped around my legs, spreading them. Then another invaded my pussy, filling and stretching it like nothing I’d ever experienced. Only a few seconds later, it began sliding in and out, fucking me, moving so that it also caressed my clit on every stroke. The only things I could move were my arms,. More

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