After hours of anticipation, days of practice, weeks of research and months of hope, I finally felt ready.
I had traced the symbols hundreds of times in the margins of notebooks, but feeling the chalk almost crumbling between my fingers made my hands tremble. The intricate patterns of lines and eldritch words were taking form all around me, covering the cold, hard floor of my basement. On my hands and knees, for God knows how long, I repeated the steps to myself, over and over, as I checked every square inch of my work. I knew that if there was a mistake, no matter how small, it wouldn't be inconsequential.
Horrific tales of summoners dragged into hellish dimensions of pain sent shivers down my spine when I first read the Grimoire. But not even those threats could dissuade me. I glanced up at the sigils I had placed on every wall, every opening, every way out I could think of. Containing it within this room was one thing - preventing it from reaching me was another.
Soon enough, my circle was complete. All around me, rings upon rings of symbols carefully crafted to cover every possibility. One to protect my physical form - one to protect my mind - one to protect my soul - and many more after them. By that point, the letters and curves almost danced before my eyes after staring into them so long, and I could almost see something of their magic through them, right behind my eyes.
As I lit the candles that were placed right behind the tightest circle, closest to me, I could feel the air vibrating around me, like the world knew it was about to be torn apart. I stood up and looked inside my palm at the words which composed the incantation. I barely knew their exact meaning, but I had mouthed them for days in silence, feeling dread creep up my neck every time the syllables tumbled out of my mouth. The power within them was intoxicating.
I cleared my throat and started, first pulling on the thread of reality, slowly but gently leading them to come undone, inviting the forces beyond to pool inside the bubble I had created. Then came the name, great and terrible, and the air in my mouth felt like burning alcohol, leaving a sharp taste on my tongue.
I didn't hear it enter the room, it was simply there. As my eyes adjusted to its presence, I realised that the lightbulb dangling above my head seemed to produce no more light than a firefly, and that the only source of light unaffected were the candles at my feet. The rest of the room was swarming with shadows thick like ink. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. Simply waiting for me to make the first step, and hoping it would be my last.
I realised that my hand was still open in front of my face, the words smudged by a thin coat of sweat I didn't feel until now. I closed it nervously and cleared my throat again, finding out at the same time that sound was as smothered by its presence as light. I could barely hear my own voice when I started speaking.
"Deep one, I have summoned you..."
But as my voice was about to start wavering, I heard what sounded like a warm laugh, coming from everywhere around me, before its voice seemed to nudge itself right up to the limits of my circle.
"Now now, little one, have mortals forgotten the most basic rules of civility since I was last called into this realm?"
It wasn't cold, metallic or distant, like I had imagined - not like a higher being, unbothered by the fate of a mortal, but like that of a friend, with the inflections of a smile. But it echoed deeper, somewhere further than I could hear, but somewhere I could feel. I took a deep breath and glanced down, checking that nothing had been disturbed. I found that *something* was creeping very close to the edges of my writing, almost teasing at it, but that nothing was changed. I caught a glimpse of something that shined in the candlelight - moisture? - and it was gone, retracting back in the shadows.
"I apologise. Welcome, deep one. This is... My basement."
I felt idiotic, having thought of every single detail in preparing the ritual but somehow forgotten about what to say once it was here. Maybe I had secretly hoped it would fail.
I heard the laughter again.
"The last time I crossed the threshhold between our worlds, I was received in a richly decorated palace, with light pouring from the stained glass windows. Am I to understand that you do not have enough respect for me to even allow me above ground?"
I had expected it to try to scare me, to attempt to make me flee from my circle, to make me trip and kick away a candle, but I had not expected... This. Nervously, I crossed my hands behind my back, hoping it wouldn't see them tensing up. I only remembered afterwards that it was all around me. There was no escape.
"I have not summoned you out of a desire for company or to show my respect."
My attempts to sound secure and authoritative fell on deaf ears.
"Little one, I believe you would appreciate my company if only you'd let me entertain you."
I felt, more than a saw, another part of it approaching the circle, teasing at its edges. It brought shadows with it, but they cowered in the flickering light of the candles, revealing a hint of something *slick*, coiling around itself like a snake, quick and nimble.
"I have not brought you here for... Entertainment either."
I managed to say after breaking away from contemplating the fragment of it I could see. I couldn't fathom its size, its shape or even its nature, but every hint of it attracted my gaze like a flame does to a moth. I had to focus.
"You certainly have done a marvelous job of *bringing me here* as you say. Quite the intricate working, I couldn't find a single flaw in it. But I wonder if that rigor can truly be maintained..."
I still couldn't see more than vague, shapeless motions in the darkness, but I could somehow tell that it was getting closer, that it was crawling behind me, around me, surrounding me. Soon, the lightbulb above me was completely engulfed, and it was close enough that I could begin to see its contours.
Dozens - hundreds - thousands of tendrils, writhing in unisson, moving in a slow dance of flesh. I could glimpse an eye opening between two of them from time to time, just for an instant, before it vanished within the indescribable being.
"Have you ever seen anything like me, little one? Can you even comprehend what stands before you?"
I noticed there and then that my lips were parted, my mouth agape, and my throat dry.
I cleared it again but found my voice hoarse when I tried to speak.
"I know what you are deep one and I demand you step back - step back at once!"
The laughter sounded much more intimate this time, right next to my ears, like a murmur.
"How charming you are, in your little circle, refusing to even make conversation, ordering me around..."
It wasn't breaking the limits I had made for myself, standing right at the edge of my protections, but somehow it didn't make me feel safer. I cursed myself for not bringing a chair into this damned circle - for not making it larger. I couldn't move for than a few inches, step asided or sit down, for fear of smudging a line and offering myself to it. I was suddenly so aware of how uncomfortable I felt, after hours of crawling on the floor, tracing those symbols, standing on legs that felt weak, on the verge of collapsing under me.
"... but you can barely stand, can you? Why don't you rest for a little while? I won't go anywhere, you can trust me. Just close your eyes, let yourself drift away. It would be so easy - I will make sure of it."
I focused on my eyes, tensing up my body. Those sweet words I expected. It wasn't so clever after all, trying to have me fall asleep at its feet, when the horror of its form would surely be enough to keep me awake. I even let my lips curl in a smirk as I took a deep breat, steadying myself.
"You won't get me this easily, deep one. I know the tricks of your kind."
But it didn't seem phased.
"Do you? I'm impressed that you know so much about the intricaties of my world. You probably know so much about the dangers of what you just did, you've read so many tales of names mispronounced, of symbols misaligned. Oh how many of them I delighted in seeing trip over their work... But see, little one, you might have learned all about this..."
I noticed then that it was getting difficult to breathe. It had surrounded me completely, enclosed me inside itself, completely sealed me away from outside. But the dizziness couldn't simply come from being trapped.
"... Do you know just how fast candles can burn through oxygen in an enclosed space?"
I realised it had known exactly what it was doing all along just as I felt myself sway, carried by the weight of my own body. I didn't feel myself fall to the ground. Whether it was because it caught me or because I had lost consciousness before I hit the ground, I didn't know. All I could perceive were the dancing light of the candles being snuffed out one by one, condemning me to sink in the depths of its shadows.
I don't know how long I was out, but as soon as I opened my eyes, I felt fear gripping me again. Had it dragged me into the depths with it? Had it already destroyed my body and devoured my mind? Quickly, I reached up my chest by reflex, feeling out my pulse. I found my heart beating hard and fast against my chest, and my body still fully clothed. And before I could try to find anything else, I heard it again.
This time, the voice wasn't around me. It came from within. Panicked, I curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees, eyes wide open. I was shaking with fear, and its first touch made me jump.
Something thin and cool, like the tip of a snake's tail, was slowly slithering up my ankle, climbing up my pant leg. I opened my mouth to scream but as I was about to, something forced its way between my lips. A tendril of warm, pulsing flesh that swelled in my mouth, locking my jaw open, preventing me from making any sounds. My vain efforts to bite down on it were received by it pushing its way deeper, making its way down my throat. When I realised I couldn't breathe, I desperately clawed at the appendage, trying to pull it from me.
Swiftly, two other tendrils, covered in tough scales, wrapped around my wrists and pulled them apart with incredible strength. Two other did the same for my ankles, and slowly I was lifted up in the air, suspended with my arms and legs spread. Only then did I recognise the alien feeling of *something* being poured down my throat.
Before I could writhe against my restraints or try again to bite the flesh that was now pulsing in my throat, it retreated by itself, leaving me panting. I felt my own drool drip down my parted lips, coating my chin and falling onto my shirt. My lips were on fire, my tongue burning. It felt as though whatever it had fed me had made my mouth swell and burn, making it unbearable to close it and causing saliva to constantly drip from my tongue.
Focused on the rough treatment my throat was receiving, I had almost forgotten about the cold appendage coiling around my leg under my clothes. It had crept upwards slowly, almost gently, as it toyed with me, making me shiver by teasing the inside of my thighs, playing with the edge of my underwear. Another one was making its way down my now sodden shirt, first coiling around my throat, then slithering against my chest, sliding under my bra. It traced small circles around my nipple, patiently waiting until it was hard, before wrapping around it and gently tugging on the sensitive flesh.
By that point, the burning sensation had spread from my mouth to my throat, to my chest, and this simple stimulation pulled a groan of pleasure from my mouth, sending tremors down my legs. I finally regained some level of control and tried to pull on my restraints, arching my back, tensing up my legs.
It let me writhe for a moment, still only gently rubbing my nipple and teasing at the inside of my thighs, toying with me, waiting for me to exhaust myself. My waining strength was barely enough to twist myself in the air, panting and whining, until it lost interest.
All at once, I felt my body being assaulted by dozens of new tendrils, some of them slick with the same liquid that was still burning my tongue, others covered in sharp barbs. Those started tearing at my clothes, shredding my shirt and pants with terrifying efficiency, grazing my skin. I knew that this was a warning - the slight twinge of pain I felt every time they lingered on my skin was a guarantee that it could tear me apart if it so wanted. I let my body fall limp, only supported by the coils around my limbs.
Everywhere the slick tentacles touched, I felt my skin becoming more sensitive to the touch, and they were careful to touch every inch of skin exposed by the destruction of my clothes. Soon enough, I was almost naked, except for a pathetic scrap of cloth that once was my underwear dangling from my ankle, my breasts covered with the drool that had kept dripping from my mouth and trembling with every breath as every piece of me screamed to be touched.
That's when the tendrils withdrew from me, leaving only those hoisting me in the air.
At first, I expected another assault to come from the depths of my personal Hell, probably some other probing tool, violating what was left of my dignity. But it didn't come. My breathing slowed down as I realised that I was surrounded only by silence. With some effort, I opened my eyes and tilted my head up. My gaze met that of a single eye staring into my soul. It was glowing with a purple-ish light, and I could glimpse the tendrils writhing around it, but it was static, slightly above me, looking down at my shivering form.
I froze as I crossed its unwavering gaze. It felt as though it was piercing my soul, seeing through me and beyond me, in a somehow even more revealing way than simply staring at my naked, bruised body. I felt a prideful anger fill my lungs and tried to scream, but my throat was still coated in this cursed substance. I tried to swallow it but it only made jolts of pleasure bolt down my spine - I moaned then, just from pushing my tongue against the roof of my mouth. It felt empty, I was parched but I knew it wasn't water I craved. Tears of anger and frustration streamed down my face as I tried to scream again, only managing to produce an inarticulate groan. Every second that I spent without one of his tendrils wrapped around me felt like torture and I resented my body for craving its touch.
I have no idea how long I stayed like this, under its gaze, panting, groaning, screaming. It felt like months, years had passed, when for the first time, my lips seemed to obey me, as though they could have done so this whole time and were just waiting for me to let go.
The words scorched my mouth more than the eldritch burn I'd been enduring this whole time. But in this moment I truly desired nothing more than for it to quench the immeasurable thirst it had planted inside me. I didn't hear its laughter this time - I didn't have to. I could feel its satisfaction echoing through my head.
For an instant, it almost soothed the fire burning under my skin.
The eye stayed open above me, contemplating its toy with the same alien coldness, as a tendril softer than those I'd been subjected to before slithered up against my leg, coiling around my thigh, its round head gently poking my sensitive flesh. I shivered in anticipation but also as I felt the intolerable burn that had inflamed my entire body recede, only persisting exactly where it needed to. Soon, the tip of the tendril had reached my exposed sex, and as it slow pushed itself inside me, I could feel its gaze getting heavier. It didn't have a mouth, not that I could see, but I could feel it smiling nonetheless.
Feeling it finally inside me, filling my cunt with its writhing flesh, was like feeling ice cold water hit my tongue after days spent wandering the desert. It was shockingly relieving, bypassing every ounce of reason I had left. I realised I was bucking my hips and groaning, trying to coax it deeper, but it calmly waited for me to simply offer myself again. I could feel it pulsing in me, pushing further before slowly retreating, beginning to thrust, each time hardening a little more inside me.
As I begun moaning, a familiar texture brushed against my lips, however this time it was welcomed. I opened my mouth, letting the tentacle find its way back in my throat. Just like its sister, it was slower, more gentle, pushing inch by inch down my throat, retreating to let me breathe, pushing down my tongue. I could feel it coating my mouth in liquid again, but the pain I expected didn't come. Instead, every movement, every pulsation of its tendril against my tongue, my lips, inside my throat, begun to fill me with as much pleasure as if they were inside my cunt. My hoarse voice, whenever it could be heard, took on pleading notes, and I knew that I didn't need to say more for it to understand that I was begging for more.
I could hear the tentacles writhing around me before I started seeing them. Two small ones, tipped with what appeared to be suction cups, planted themselves around my nipples. Another one, wider and slick with fluids, found its way down my belly and pressed down on my clit, beginning to thrust itself up and down. One I couldn't see coiled itself around my throat, first gently, then tightening its grip. It wasn't completely choking me, but my breathing became labored, and I became much more aware of the bulge that formed in my throat every time it was mercilessly fucked.
I was being obscenely used, utterly overwhelmed by pleasure, and not a few seconds passed after this that I was crying out in pleasure, tears streaming down my face again, my whole body tensing up in a shuddering climax. But that didn't stop it. On the contrary, it seemed emboldened, twisting my body in a new position. I found myself with my head down, my ankles bundled up together and my knees bent, allowing it to fuck my cunt deeper, finding the angle that coaxed the loudest cries out of me. All of a sudden, the tendril wrapped around my throat tensed up as the one plunged deep in my mouth swelled, completely preventing me from breathing. The other limbs picked up the pace, fucking me hard enough to make my tits swing back and forth, pulling harder on my nipples, twisting my clit almost painfully. The second climax came even faster, as I became dizzy from the lack of air, my head swimming with nothing but pure sensation. This time it was ready.
It didn't halt as it felt the tremors of pleasure shaking me, only releasing my throat and letting me breathe. My moans sounded like pleas, confused between begging it to stop and imploring it to keep going, but it didn't give me a choice. It prolonged my ecstasy without mercy, pressing harder against my clit every time I felt like it was finally ending, exhausting every nerve in my body, until it finally broke.
Darkness swallowed my mind and I felt myself drifting into unconsciousness for the first time. The only thing I knew at that moment was that there wouldn't be a last.
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