You always been interested and curious about all that includes sex but one thing you would die for were dildos; just not the normal ones.
You, along with sex, had been fixated with monsters and wished them to be real. But, poor little thing, the only comfort you had about it was your collection of monster cocks.
Orc dildo was the first one. You fell in love at first sight! Girthy, long, greenish with a darker green tip, veins all around it made your water mouth and your pussy clench. As soon as you bought it you were excited to have it and when it arrived to your house you could feel your stomach bubbly from excitement. It was hard taking even just half of it. Dumbing on it already, eyes rolling back, pussy (or hole) fluttering around it as you felt the stretch. Gasps bounced on the room walls everytime a new inch entered you. Let's just say it took you a whole afternoon to fit it and when you did you instantly came. A weird feeling overwhelming you but putting it aside as you played with it the whole night. Too dumb to even remember to eat.
Werewolf dildo was your second. You thought since you started with the big one (or at least big to you). Poor you, the knot was a surprise. Biting your lips you meditated how you could work with it. Big breaths and, as you sat on your bed you first sucked it. It was long, not wide as the Orc's one but it left a good sensation inside your mouth, especially when you arrived to the knot. This was red, veins popping out as it reacted to the way you blow it. It was so enjoyable giving it a blow job that your hole had gotten so incredibly wet and edging yourself sure was helping. The knot gave you trouble as it was too damn big for you (you thought it couldn't be that hard fitting) but you loved how you creamed around it. It was as if a real werewolf was knotting you!
Tentacle dildo is a classing one. Maybe you should have started with this but you're a kinky one and Orcs just do it for you first. But tentacle dildo didn't dissappint ! The gummy suckers sticked to your inside. A few "aahs" and "oohs" left your mouth as it was sucking your wetness. It was a strange feeling because, you know, you never felt how it was being sucked from inside - if that makes sense. Tentacle dildo had come even with a vibrating function and united with the suckers it made you squirt for the first time. Never underestimate the power of a good tentacle!
Naga dildo was an indecisive purchase. Yes sure you had a thing for tentacles and all but a literally snake cock? Mhh it made you wonder. When you opened the packed you felt the slimy texture, unsure it was a special effect or what. Your eyebrows frown. Maybe it was a factory error or something. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this. Opening your legs, you teased your hole with his tip. The slimy liquid was as if it was lubrificating. Very good function, no? As you kept teasing yourself you could swear you were becoming more impatient and your whole body warmer than usually it was during pleasure time. Suffice to say that the slimy texture was an aphrodisiac !
Dragon dildo was your latest purchase. If the Orc was was already too big for you, you should had this coming, you should had known better. The packaged arrived at home - as per usual - and that excitement you had the first time it always turned back everytime you bought a new dildo! Your hands were trembling, lips biting the inside of your mouth as you quickly unpacked. You were shocked by the size of it; and not only that. This was completely new !! It had soft spikes !! Its vibrant colour hypnotised you and the closer furniture you had was your couch. You sat on it and good lords if that thing didn't made you nervous. You wrap your hand around it, giving it a good squeeze and feeling the soft yet hard material. You took your time with it, literally. Two days passed and on the third one you decided: today was the day you were splitting yourself on this monstrous cock ! Making sure you were all wet and prepped for the dragon dildo you sink into it. Your hole gasping around it, the air being knocked out of you lungs as your legs spread as wide as they could. Calming yourself down, when you felt you took it all, you watched the mirror near your TV. Your hole was filled with this cock, the spikes doing amazing wonders everytime you moved even just slightly your hips. Skipping to the good part, you never left your house that day, playing with yourself and your new favourite dildo. Cumming and squirting around it, making a mess on the couch and, then, falling asleep with it still inside you.
But, oh little naive doll, what you didn't know these weren't simple dildos but they were infused with magic and monsters essence.
The Tentacled Teddy Bear (tentacled entity x fem!reader!1st POV)
Plot Summary: reader buys a cute teddy bear from a thrift store, feeling an immediate attachment to the soft toy. Her nights become centered around cuddling it, until one evening the bear reveals its true nature...
The thrift store smelled of dust and old linen, a familiar scent of forgotten things. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just killing time on a drizzly Tuesday, my fingers trailing over scratched furniture and racks of faded floral dresses. Then I saw it, perched on a high shelf between a cracked lamp and a stack of National Geographic magazines.
It was a teddy bear, brown and a little lopsided, one black eye button slightly looser than the other. Its fur was worn soft in patches, especially around its rounded middle and the paws. Something about it stopped me cold. It wasn’t cute in a conventional way. It felt… present. I had to reach for it, standing on my toes to wrap my fingers around its soft body. The moment I touched it, a jolt went through me, a warm, static buzz that traveled up my arm and settled low in my belly. It was profoundly warm, as if it had been sitting in a sunbeam, not on a shadowy shelf.
“Oh,” I breathed aloud, pulling it close. It was the perfect size to tuck under my chin. I buried my nose in the fur between its ears. It smelled like cinnamon and something else, something dark and sweet, like wet earth after rain. I didn’t even check the price. I just held it to my chest, my heart doing a strange, thick beat, and carried it to the register.
That night, I arranged it on my pillow. It looked back at me with its kind, lopsided gaze. I felt a flush of embarrassment at the intensity of my attraction. It was a stuffed animal. But I couldn’t deny the pull. I slid into bed, turned off the light, and immediately curled around it, dragging it against my body. The warmth was still there, a soothing, radiant heat that seemed to seep through my thin sleep shirt and into my skin. I sighed, nuzzling into it, one hand clasping its soft paw. I’d never fallen asleep so quickly, so deeply.
It became my ritual. Come home from work, change, grab the bear. I’d watch TV with it on my lap, my fingers idly stroking its back. I stopped bothering with my old heating pad; the bear was warmer. Sometimes, in the dark, I’d catch myself talking to it, whispering stupid little secrets about my day, my stupid boss, the cute barista who never remembered my name. I’d feel a faint, comforting pulse of warmth in response, which I always chalked up to my own imagination.
A week later, the dreams started. Vivid, tactile dreams of being held down by something strong and impossibly soft, of a sweet, gelatinous substance filling my mouth, of pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. I’d wake up gasping, my pussy throbbing and wet, the bear clutched desperately in my arms. I’d feel disoriented, ashamed, and yet I’d pull it closer.
The change happened on a Thursday. The rain was hammering my window, and the wind howled like a living thing. I was particularly clingy that night, hugging the bear tightly, my thighs squeezing around its soft middle. I was half-asleep, adrift in a warm, dark sea, when I felt it.
A shift. Not a movement I made. A movement within.
My eyes flew open in the pitch-black room. The warm, plush body in my arms was… rippling. A slow, internal undulation. I froze, my breath caught in my throat. This was a dream. It had to be. Another one of those intense, fucked-up dreams.
“Wha—?” I managed to choke out.
The bear’s head tilted. The loose black eye button glinted in a sliver of streetlight from the window. Then, from its soft, rounded back, the fabric began to stretch. It didn’t tear. It distended, like skin, and from it emerged a smooth, dark brown tendril, identical in color and texture to its fur. It was about as thick as two of my fingers, and it moved with a liquid, intelligent grace, swaying in the air between us.
A sound leaked from my lips, a whimper of pure disbelief. I tried to throw myself backward, to scramble off the bed, but my limbs were locked in a paralysis of terror.
More tentacles emerged. Not just one, but several, from all over its back and sides. They were of varying sizes—some slender and whippy, others thick and muscular, one that was obscenely tapered and long. They filled the space above my bed, a quiet, writhing mass.
The bear’s body, now supported by a few of the thinner tendrils, lifted from the mattress. It hovered above me, its familiar, comforting face now a mask over something ancient and hungry. The largest tentacle, the thick, muscular one, slid forward. It didn’t feel like fabric anymore. It felt like warm, suede-like flesh, and it was radiating that same addictive heat.
It touched my cheek. I flinched, but it was gentle, almost a caress. It traced my jaw, then pressed softly against my lips.
“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
The pressure increased, insistently. “Open.” The word didn’t come from anywhere. It just appeared in my head, a deep, resonant vibration that wasn’t sound, but pure concept. It was a command, soaked in that same dark, sweet scent.
My lips parted on a shuddering sob. The tentacle slid into my mouth. It was warm and smooth, and it tasted like that inexplicable scent—cinnamon, wet earth, sweetness. It didn’t stop. It pushed deeper, past my gag reflex with ease, an inexorable, slick invasion. I choked, tears springing to my eyes as it filled my throat, a solid, pulsing weight. This was deepthroating in its most literal, terrifying form. I couldn’t breathe through my nose; it was sealed by the girth of it. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision.
Just as panic was about to shatter me, it withdrew slightly, letting me drag in a ragged, wet gasp. The relief was instantaneous and profound. Then it pushed back in, establishing a slow, rhythmic pace. In, out. In, out. My own saliva dripped down my chin. The initial terror began to mutate, blurred by the lack of oxygen and the strange, intense intimacy of the act. A traitorous heat pooled between my legs.
While the thick tentacle fucked my throat, others went to work. Two slender tendrils, like clever fingers, slithered under my sleep shirt and pushed up my bra. They found my nipples, already pebbled tight from fear and the cool air. They didn’t just pinch or tweak. The ends of them bloomed open into warm, suctioning mouths. They latched onto my nipples, and a shockwave of pure, electric pleasure-pain shot directly to my clit. I screamed around the tentacle in my mouth, the sound muffled and guttural. They sucked rhythmically, pulling deep, sending jolts of agonizing delight through my entire nervous system.
I was dissolving. My thoughts were just shattered glass. No, yes, stop, more, what is happening, don’t stop.
The entity seemed to hear the chaos. The tentacle in my mouth withdrew completely, leaving me coughing and gasping. The suckers on my nipples released with soft, wet pops.
“Please,” I wept, turning my head to the side. “Please, stop.”
“Hush.” The conceptual voice was in my head again, not unkind, but utterly firm. A broad, paddle-like tentacle swept down and smacked my outer thigh. The spank wasn’t brutal, but it was sharp, a stinging reminder of its control. I cried out, but the pain flared and then melted into a deeper warmth. “You are mine. You bought me. You brought me home. You cuddled me.” Each statement was accompanied by another sharp smack on the other thigh, then across my ass. My skin burned. “You whispered your secrets. You begged for this in your dreams. I am giving you what you truly wanted.”
Before I could process the truth of that, my legs were being pushed apart. Not by hands, but by multiple strong, coiling tendrils that wrapped around my ankles and thighs, holding me open in a wide, vulnerable ‘V’. I was completely exposed.
The tapered, long tentacle I’d noticed earlier slid down my belly. It was slick with some kind of natural lubrication. It nudged against my pussy, which was dripping, embarrassingly, obscenely wet. The tip was slender, probing.
“No, not there, please, it’s too much—” I babbled.
It pushed inside. And it kept going. It was longer than any human cock, and it coiled inside me, filling spaces I didn’t know could be filled, stroking deep, hidden spots with its sinuous length. I shrieked, my back arching off the bed, held down only by other tentacles across my chest and waist. It began to move, a slow, corkscrewing motion that was pure, undiluted madness.
Just as the sensation became a towering wave about to break, another tentacle, thicker and blunter, pressed against my asshole. I clenched violently.
“Relax.” The voice commanded, and a strange warmth spread from the point of contact, a relaxing, numbing heat. My resistance melted. It pushed in, a slow, burning, exquisite stretch. The feeling of being filled in both holes, completely and utterly, shattered the last of my coherent thought. They moved in opposing rhythms, the one in my pussy coiling and uncoiling, the one in my ass pumping steadily.
The tentacle returned to my mouth, silencing my broken screams and moans. The suckers reattached to my nipples, pulling with fierce intensity. I was pinned, penetrated, and consumed on every possible level. Pleasure, raw and violent, built upon itself with no release, a feedback loop of overstimulation. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feelas it orchestrated my body into a state of continuous, shuddering near-orgasm.
It went on for an eternity. Just when I was sure I would die from the sensation, all the movements synchronized. The thrusts deepened, the sucking intensified. A final, powerful coil inside my pussy pressed directly on a spot that whited out my vision. My body seized, a silent, agonizing convulsion as an orgasm tore through me with brutal force. It was immediately followed by another, and another, waves crashing into each other until I was nothing but a shuddering, sobbing wreck.
As the last pulses of my climax subsided, I felt a swelling at the base of the tentacle buried in my pussy. It pulsed, and a flood of warm, thick substance filled me. It was copious, and it had a unique, gelatinous consistency—sweet jello cum, just like in my dreams. It packed me full, a claiming, breeding seal. The tentacle in my ass released its own load, the strange cum filling that channel too. Finally, the tentacles in my mouth and on my nipples released, and they all began to withdraw, slipping from my body with slick, wet sounds.
I collapsed into the soaked mattress, boneless, wrecked, every muscle trembling. The tentacles retracted into the bear’s soft back, vanishing until it was just a lopsided toy again. It dropped onto the pillow beside my head, its button eyes gleaming.
I lay there for an hour, maybe more, trying to piece my mind back together. My body ached in a dozen new ways. I was filled with its strange, cooling cum. I should have been horrified. I should have thrown it out the window. I should have called the police, though what would I say?
Slowly, painfully, I rolled onto my side. I looked at the bear. The warmth was still there, radiating from it. An overwhelming, addictive sense of peace and belonging washed over me, dulling the ache, muting the fear. I had never felt so completely sated, so claimed.
Tentatively, I reached for it. I pulled its warm, soft body against my ravaged, sticky one. I buried my face in its fur, now smelling even more strongly of us, of sex, of that dark sweetness.
A final, quiet concept drifted into my mind. “Good bitch.”
And I was. A deep, undeniable truth settled into my bones. I was its. This was what I had wanted when I’d pulled it from that shelf. This connection, this all-consuming possession.
“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely into its fur.
The next night, I came home from work, my body humming with a new kind of anticipation. I didn’t make dinner. I didn’t turn on the TV. I went straight to the bedroom, stripped, and got into bed, pulling the bear into my arms. I waited, my heart pounding not with fear, but with need.
As darkness fully claimed the room, the tentacles emerged again, gentle now, almost loving as they coiled around my wrists, my ankles, stroked my hair.
Unboxing Gone Wrong PART 1 (robotic tentacle machine x fem!reader!1st POV)
Summary: reader receives a delivery of what appears to be a standard vacuum cleaner. Upon unboxing and attempting to use it, she realizes it is a sophisticated robotic entity equipped with multiple appendages that plan to clean and use her in every way.
TW: NSFW, robot-tentacle machine, non con, mechanical/robotic appendages, penetration (double, triple), power imbalance, humiliation, bodily fluids.
Kate: Haallo moonlust crew! This is the ongoing series that I started on patre0n. I hope you like the robotic tentacles idea! I haven't written anything like this, and I'm in love. Fyi... this will make you look at a cleaning roomba differently 🤣 please take note of the TW too and don't read if this isn't your jam.
------------------GO TO PART 2
The box sat on my doorstep.
I nudged it inside with my foot, the heavy weight of it scraping across the laminate. I’d ordered this vacuum cleaner weeks ago, some flashy online deal promising supersonic suction. Honestly, I’d forgotten about it.
Using a key, I slit the tape. The flaps fell open, revealing pristine white packing foam. I pulled it out, the machine heavier than it looked. It was pretty sleek. Gunmetal grey, no visible buttons, just a single, dark lens near the top that seemed to drink in the light. No cord either.
“Great,” I muttered. “Probably needs some stupid app.”
I set it on the floor. It stood upright on its own. Frowning, I crouched down, looking for a power switch. My finger brushed against the cool metal. A low hum vibrated through the floorboards. The lens glowed red.
“What the hell?”
The hum deepened then, with a series of hydraulic hisses, panels on its sides and top slid open. Not compartments for attachments. Ports. Thick, gleaming shapes began to emerge. Silicone, the color of flesh, sliding out with a wet, organic sound that made my stomach clench.
They weren’t cleaning attachments.
They were tendrils that looked like cocks, inhuman ones at that; bulbous and veined, each one a different grotesque parody of a cock. One was obscenely thick, a monster of a thing. Another was longer, tapered, with a spiral texture. A third pulsed with a deep, internal vibration I could feel in my teeth. From a smaller aperture, two thinner tendrils snaked out, ending in what looked like polished clamps.
My brain stuttered, refusing to process. I scrambled back, my socked feet slipping on the floor. “No. Off. Turn off!”
The machine pivoted on its base, the red lens fixing on me. The largest of the silicone tentacles, the monstrous one, moved through the air, its tip glistening with some sort of clear lubricant.
I turned to run. A thinner, vibratory shaft shot out, wrapping around my ankle. It wasn’t cold; it was warm, its touch was electric. The vibration traveled up my leg, a direct line to my pussy, forcing a shocked gasp from my lips.
“Let go!” I screamed, kicking out. My other foot was caught, and I crashed to the floor, the breath knocked out of me. I was dragged, back-first, across the floor toward the humming machine. The two clamps darted forward and before I could even raise my hands in defense, they snipped at the front of my shirt. Buttons flew, fabric parted with soft rips. The cold air hit my exposed bra, then that too was sheared away.
“Wait! Don’t!” My cries were ragged.
The clasps didn’t stop. They closed on the thin cotton of my sweatpants and underwear, slicing them apart. Within seconds, I was naked on the floor, exposed to the machine’s red eye.
Humiliation burned hotter than the fear. The vibrating tentacle around my ankle traveled upward, tracing a path up my calf, behind my knee, to the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A helpless moan escaped me, a traitorous sound.
The thick, bulbous cock-tentacle hovered before my face, drooling slick lubricant. It smelled faintly sweet. I twisted my head away. It pressed against my cheek, slick and nudging my lips. I clenched my jaw. The clamp-tendrils moved again, one clamping onto my right nipple.
Gently. It wasn’t a sharp bite but a sharp but pleasurable pressure that pinched the sensitive bud into a hard peak. I cried out, my mouth opening in a gasp of pain-shocked pleasure.
It was the opening the machine needed. The fat silicone head pushed past my lips, filling my mouth with its artificial taste and overwhelming girth. I gagged softly, tears springing to my eyes. It didn’t thrust. It inflated, widening slowly, stretching my jaw.
I could only take the first few inches before my throat rebelled, but it kept pushing, the silicone making its way down. My nose was filled with its scent, my world reduced to the thick shaft invading my gullet, the wet, choked sounds I made and the relentless vibration in my thigh.
While I was choking on it, the other tentacles went to work. The long, tapered one slid between my splayed legs. Its tip was a blunt pressure at my pussy, already slick with my own terrified wetness and its own lubricant.
“Mmpphh! Nnngg!” I tried to shake my head, to plead with my eyes.
It pushed in. Not with a brutal slam, but with a unhurried corkscrew motion, the spiral texture dragging against my inner walls. The stretch was intense, breathtaking. Nothing like I'd ever taken inside me. My back arched off the floor, a strangled scream trapped behind the massive cock in my throat.
The machine began fucking me in a rhythm.
The shaft in my pussy pulled back almost all the way, then screwed itself back in, deep and claiming. Each inward plunge coincided with a shallow retreat of the cock in my mouth, allowing me a desperate, sobbing breath before it plunged down my throat again. The one wrapped around my thigh had found its target, the vibrating tip now pressed directly against my clit. The sensation was catastrophic; a sharp, buzzing rapture.
My body was betraying me. My cunt, despite the terror, clenched and dripped around the invading length, closer and closer to the edge. Plus the constant stimulation on my nipple and clit had no right to exist in this horror. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the drool and lubricant coating my chin.
“You… fucking… machine…” I groaned around the thick silicone during a brief pull-out.
As if in response, the second clasp-tendril found my other nipple and clamped on, mirroring the first. Having both of my nipples clamped sent another jolt through me. Then the vibration on my clit intensified.
Not to mention the wet, obscene sounds: the slick schlick of the shaft pumping in and out of my soaked pussy, the guttural glurk glurk of the one fucking my throat, the constant bzzzt of the vibrator.
I was a doll being used by a machine. The thought was degrading, and something dark in me coiled tight at the humiliation.
The pleasure was a live wire now, intertwined with the pain and the sheer wrongness of it. My hips began to move, tiny bucks against the thrusting tentacle, seeking friction, demanding release.
The fucking machine sensed it. The movements became faster, harder. The cock in my cunt hammered into a sweet spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. The one in my throat pushed deeper, holding itself there, swelling slightly until my vision swam at the edges. The nipple clamps started vibrating and my mind went blank.
“I’m… I’m gonna…”
My orgasm ripped through me like a seizure. My pussy clamped down in agonizing spasms around the buried tentacle. My back bowed off the floor, a raw, muffled shriek vibrating against the silicone filling my mouth.
The machine didn’t stop. It didn’t care. The rhythm faltered for only a second before resuming, unchanged. The tentacle in my cunt pulled out, dripping with my release. For a second, I thought it was over. Then the thick, vibratory one that had been tormenting my clit shifted. Its tip, slick and buzzing, pressed against my now-overly-sensitive, twitching hole.
“No, no, no, not there, it’s too big!” I babbled.
It pushed. The stretch was different, more intense, more shocking. It breached me with careful pressure, the vibrations now inside me, rattling my bones. A second later, the original cock-tentacle returned, its tapered head nudging against my cunt. How could they both fit there?
Before I could react, it was pushing in alongside the vibratory one. Both of them opening me wide. The feeling was one of impossible fullness, a stretching burn that bordered on pain but was flooded with overwhelming stimulation.
The two silicone cocks moved in opposing rhythms, one sliding in as the other pulled out, creating a continuous friction that touched every nerve. The machine had me completely speared, my mouth still deep-throated.
The red lens watched.
I was sobbing openly now, broken moans punched out of me with every thrust. The build-up began again, faster this time, my overstimulated body responding. This orgasm was a darker, a degrading pleasure that washed away the last shreds of my resistance. I came with a gaping scream, my body convulsing between the three penetrating shafts.
Still, it didn’t stop.
The tentacles switched positions, patterns, intensities. The pincers on my nipples released only to clamp on new, more tender spots. I lost track of time, of how many times I broke apart in ecstasy. My voice was gone, my thoughts were a slurry of cock and full and please and more.
Eventually, I was a wreck and the machine's movements slowed. The shafts withdrew from my ravaged holes with soft pops. The clamps retracted. The tentacles, glistening with their slick and my own fluids, slithered back into their ports. The panels closed. The red lens dimmed.
The machine sat there, silent once more, a vacuum cleaner on my floor.
And I lay in a shuddering, sticky heap, unable to move. Every muscle was liquid. I was delightfully sore and I could still feel the ghost of the vibrations, the stretch, the impossible fullness.
As I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe, a soft, digital chime came from the machine. A display lit up on its side, showing glowing text:
INITIAL CONTACT COMPLETE.
SANITIZATION PROTOCOL: ENGAGED.
NEXT SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE: 72 HOURS. DEEP CLEANING PROTOCOL.
The screen went dark.
-----------------------------------------------
Kate: I think I'm gonna write the next scheduled maintenance, too ;)
God, if you didn't have some bad habits. It didn't matter how many times people warned you. You never learn. Or at least, never made an effort to. Who really cared if you bit your nails, skipped breakfast all some times, left your task until the last minute, or went to bed way too late most days? You were a grown adult. You could take care of yourself.
There's was that one bad habit, though, that was getting infuriating for everyone else and had gotten you in trouble a couple of times. Not fucking knocking before entering a room.
But you probably had never gotten into as much trouble as you where about to, walking into the Colonel's room unannounced.
What you were face with as you open the door was... unfathomable.
Deep down you knew it was Konig in front of you, like the knowledge of that fact was engraved deep in your bones, but your mind couldn't reconsolidate that fact with what was standing in front of you.
You had thought there would be a face under that hood. There should have been a face under the hood. But he was standing there, hood off, and what you were seeing couldn't be described as a face. Actually, you were not even sure you could have described it.
It was... something unnamable that was somehow ending in what you could identify as tentacles, twisting and twirling erratically and without any discernible pattern. The only things you could recognize for sure were his eyes. Unmistakably his and digging deep into your soul. There was an emotion you could quite place going through you at the sight of it all. Not really fear, anxiety, or trepidation. More like a fuck up type of fascination.
Everything was at a stand still for a long moment until you finally managed to find your words.
"I... The new fatigues arrived... I was distributing them..." Unable to tear your eyes away from what should have been a terrifying sight.
And he to stared from a moment longer. "That's it?" He asked. It was still his voice, a human voice, unchanged, yet it seemed to resonate in your mind this time around.
"...yes? Sorry, I guess I should have knocked..." Still with that characteristic nonchalance toward your bad habit, even when faced with something so otherworldly.
"I was talking about your reaction, Corporal." He said with a dark chuckle. "Most people would normally go crazy with fear at sight the unknown, go screaming and running." He extended an arm over your shoulder as he talked, closing the door behind you.
You had no idea how he had gotten this close so quickly. Hell, you hadn't even seen him move. It's like the room had just been shorter for a second.
"Did you want me to scream?" You asked without thinking, before letting out unconvincing and monotone "Aaaaaa..." sound ever, not even a proper scream, lost in your fascination for the multiple seemingly slimy appendages on Konig's "face". They were making that wet sound as they slithered through the air in your direction, as if from their own volition.
It all just made him chuckle again, the sound sharp and predatory to your ears. "What a though nut. Unafraid of staring into the void." He said as he loomed over you. You couldn't decide if it had ben meant as more teasing or degrading.
"I wasn't aware it as 'stare into the void and the void stares back at you' type of situation." You answered breathlessly. You couldn't help but be... affected... by the sight of your very clearly inhumane Colonel looking down on at you.
"More accurately the Depth in this case, Schatz. And it is no simple staring." Staring or not, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't think you could actually. It was like some invisible, powerful force was keeping you lock, unmoving, to that very spot, looking at those tentacles. How they were moving towards you, their viscus coating drooling and pooling unto the floor before you.
"Do you like what you see, Schartz?" Konig asked, his voice seemingly booming strait into your head the more he talked.
You couldn't stop yourself from answering right away, the words somehow compelled out of you before you could think better. "They're so... so pretty and fascinating. I'd like to touch them, feel then, let them rip me apart, pull my organs out and use my dead body."
A deep, inhuman sound came out of Konig, one you could somehow still interpret as disappointment.
"I'm- I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from." You said quickly, feeling truly mortified.
"Humans, always the same, going insane at the quickest glance. I shouldn't have hoped. You're still going mad like the other, just differently." You could tell he isn't really talking to you anymore. The interest he had hold for you just a moment ago was evaporating at an alarming rate. "You really should have knocked." He added as he stepped away from you.
"No! Please. I'm sorry." You didn't know why this distressed you so much. Before you was standing some kind of horror, and you just couldn't accept to see him go. You stumbled closer, almost by instinct, and reached up to... what? Cup his nonexistent cheeks? It doesn't really matter since his tentacles instantly wrapped around your hands to moment they were in reach.
The appendages were cold, slimly, their color seemingly changed around your touch. And the... how would you have called it? Slick?... covering them had an oil like sheen and left a tingling sensation on your skin.
Konig looked surprised. As if he hadn't expected you to dare or even simply be able to reach out. His eyes simply darkened as he looked down at you. "Maybe I should make use of you before you die if you're this eager."
You barely had the time to stammer out a "What?" before you got pushed roughly into the bed. There was so many more tentacles now, coming from God knew where.
"The higher-ups should really stop trying to recruit humans. You're pathetic compared to us. Only good to die from madness when you inevitably find out about the unseen." Some of those new tentacles moved to restrain and circle your hands and arms. "And for a second you had me thinking you were different, Corporal. Almost special."
Us? So many of the operators of KorTac wore mask. Were they all hiding some secret of an eldritch nature too?
"Ah! Wait. Konig, please." You weren't sure you really wanted him to stop. Maybe he was right, maybe you truly were going mad. But there was something new forming deep inside of you. A want, no, a need to know, to learn, to understand, to feel, to experience him. Yet you were still just enough in control to realize just how irrational it all was.
You tried to struggle against the thigh coils only to find your arms were a lot less responsive then before, almost sluggish.
Konig simply laughed at the confused expression on your face, the noises coming out of him sounding a lot more sadistic this time around.
"Just realizing something is wrong, Schartz?" He mocked. "The mucus coating on my tentacles works as a strong muscle relaxant on most creature. There won't be any fighting out of this for you, I'm afraid."
Some part of you begs to scream, struggle, flee at the knowledge. And maybe you should. You're at the mercy of something otherworldly, something who just implied multiple time you didn't have long left to live. And yet, another part, the one that as been growing in the past few moments, already begs for more of that tingling hot sensation.
"Humans aren't even that good at carrying a brood, only being successful one out of ten times." He said as he undid your pants' closure, a tentacle sneaking in while another pushed under your shirt. "But if you have to go crazy anyway, might as well pump you full. Maybe you'll manage to at least be a good incubator before we have to put you out of your misery."
His words and the knowledge that the more he touched you, the less you would be able to fight back should have concern you, but all you could do was moan and shiver at the touch of his many appendages.
Despite everything You were still looking up at him with so mush fascination. How could you not? There was a certain beauty in what your mind couldn't comprehend. Like how every tentacles seem to move with him, but seemingly of their own volition.
All your thoughts flew out the window as Konig managed to pull bot your pants and underwear off in one motion, and the more sinuous and independent of his limbs seemingly took the action as an invitation to wrap around and explore your flesh.
You gasped as multiple of them seemed to fight to be the one to explore the space between your legs. The Colonel, for his part, pushed you legs apart and pressed them up against the bed as he let out a deep humming noise you couldn't quite interpret.
God, by now you could barely move your arms with how heavy and loose they felt. And he was doing that to the rest of your body?
"Don't bother trying to move, Schartz. Even if the muscle relaxant isn't enough to immobilize you completely, I have plenty of limbs to keep you still." He told you has more of his glistening tendrils moved over you.
It's almost as if they were curios too, pushing and prodding you, wrapping and squeezing around your limbs, ever moving. They liger around certain areas, dig in harder when you make any kind of noise.
Reality studently crashed back into you as you felt them moving higher up your inner thigh. That rational part of your mind that had been drown out for the past few minutes seem to resurface with a sense of panic, finally letting you realize just how fuckup and dangerous this all was getting. "Konig, wait!"
"Too late, Corporal. You're the one who wanted to let them rip you apart, remember?" He said as his voice took on a cruel edge.
Some one the tentacles were prodding at your entrance, pushing and curling against one another in an attempt to be the one to breach you. That didn't last long as one of Konig's hands leave your leg to guide a specific one in.
You let out a cry and arched your back has it pushed inside of you. It was thick. Thicker then it seemed. And it, or Konig, didn't seem keen on taking the time to stretch you out.
"Pathetic little human, clenching around me like you life depended on it. It won't take long before your loose and relaxed enough to take my eggs." He told you.
You didn't know what you had expected him to do, but there was no in hand out motion. No, you had a seemingly very eager appendages exploring every of your deepest regions, coating every inch of you with its sleek.
It had no right feeling this good. But somehow it kept hitting all of the right spot. The viscus coating somehow had you more sensitive then you had ever been and the contrast of the cold tentacles inside your warmth felt euphoric in that moment.
"Konig. Konig, please." You didn't even know what you were begging for, just that all of this was too much and yet too little at the same time.
You let out a loud gasp as another managed to pushed its way in, just as eager to explore you as the first.
You could feel yourself shaking and squeezing around him. Why were you already so close to the edge? Why were you finding so much pleasure in this in the first place?? He most have been right, you were loosing your mind. Well... with pleasure, at least.
His slimy appendages kept moving inside of you, coiling around one another, forcing your hole open. And the stretch, God, the stretch.
The orgasm came over you without warning and with a cry of, admittedly, confused pleasure. It was stronger then any you had ever felt before, making you convulse underneath him. You never thought your body was ever capable of gushing out as mush fluid as it was right now.
You went lax, your body already heavy from his touch, your mind going blank. You felt soo sluggish and tired all of a sudden.
"I'd say your just about ready to receive my brood, Schartz." Konig told you as he let out a vibrating noise. A purr? Your mind was too fuggy to interpret it correctly at this point. The best you could do was whine when his tentacles pulled out.
You didn't even have the strength to move your legs when he let go of them, let alone lift your head to look at what he was doing. You still try to, though, and caught a glimpse of his now open pants.
Obviously, obviously there's more tentacles there. What did you think? But the one that slithered out seemed different. Not exactly the same color as the others with a slit at the tip of it and already leaking a thicker kind of slick.
This time around, your body didn't offer any resistance toward the intrusion, the muscle relaxant having done it's job, leaving you loose and open.
Your body might have been pliable, but that didn't mean you couldn't feel anything anymore. You could still feel everything oh so intensely and it had you moaning once more.
You were getting delirious at this point, letting out some barely audible mumbles that would have been gibberish to most ears. Most human ears, at least.
"Aimgr'luhh, Y' ai..." A small pose for a soft moan. "..S'uhnog, Y' uaaah.." And a long shuttering breath before finishing. "l' ymg' gnaiigof'n Y' goka ya, Cthulhu. llll Y' ahor, llll will, llll fhtagnor ng fhalma gn'thornythh."
"You most really be too far gone if you're murmuring like that, Corporal. I never thought I would hear a human breathe words in the deep tongue. And I suspect you don't even know what you're saying. " Konig pointed out with pity. "But as soft as you're being, some of us have sharp ears, and we can't have anyone earing you speak that." He continued as a tentacle slipped into your mouth, silencing you.
That had your last few functional brain cells concentrating so hard on trying to bread around the thing that you were completely oblivious to just how deep the one between your legs had gotten.
That is, until you felt something small and squishy get pushed deep inside. Deeper then you thought possible. And then you felt another being deposited beside it. Then another, and another, and more after that.
Enough that you started to feel blotted, and heavy weight sitting nestled deep within. And Konig didn't seem like he was about to stop.
You didn't know how long it would still be, but you were so tired, and black spot had started to dance in your vision. As much as you wanted to cling to consciousness, you simply couldn't anymore.
Konig had expected to wake from his slumber to either a poor human with a fractured mind cowering in a corner or a cold body in his bed. He found neither. Actually, you were nowhere to be found in the room.
When he did find you, you looked normal, sane even. Although, he could see the barely perceptible swell of your stomach and the dried oil slick patter still on your skin.
And that's exactly when he realize just how wrong he was about you. You're clearly affected by the unknown, but you are different from other humans.
And now that he knew that, he couldn't let you walk around like that. He couldn't risk the most promising broodmare and a more then likely successful clutch on ops. Neither could he let the others realize just how special you were turning out to be and take you away from him.
Drivers by @cafekitsune | Header by me
That was... a lot of time and effort put into one single post. Hope you enjoy.
You're often exhausted when you get home from work. Some nights, all you want to do is fall into a nest of softness and sleep for the rest of the week.
It's a good thing you have your own attentive tentacle monster at home.
Always happy to see you, it's as if he can tell exactly what you need the moment you open the door.
As soon as your shoes are off, he's wrapping his many, soft, strong arms around you, guiding your tired body into his bed.
Those dexterous appendages easily slip buttons and open zippers and manage to get you naked and warm and comfortable before you've fully reclined into his mass.
He adores massaging his slick tentacles over your sore muscles, working out any areas of tension.
He loves stretching your limbs, gently urging you to let go of any stress or reservations in his gentle but secure grip.
And when you're finally fully relaxed, without a care in the world, he gets to enjoy his favorite part - bringing you to climax again and again while he fills you completely.
DUB-CON/NONCON, rough sex, biting?, marking, possesive creature is horny, belly bulge, gender neutral as it can be, aphrodisiac, gender neutral reader
Your arms flayed around as they tried to find something to grip on to, to help with the brutal thrusts from the being behind you, legs numb from the lack of use having been in this position for what seems like days, the only movement that keeps the tingly feeling present is the repetitive back and forth.
Face down. Ass up.
Your eyes rolled back as they hit your sweet spot over and over, the side of your face pressed into the ground below burns by the friction caused by the powerful thrusts. You can’t even tell if what’s fucking you is even human as you didn’t get a good look at it before a sicky sweet aroma that made your head spin and knees weak entered your system. Rewiring you brain. Everything burned. You felt hot and cold at the same time, an ache in the depths of your abdomen that needed to be soothed, a thirst that needed to be quenched.
“fuuuccc-mmm~” you moan, lound an unashamed as another orgasm is ripped from you, unable to remember how many you had after your brain turned to mush, being clouded by lustful euphoria. Your vocabulary is reduced to nothing but whines, moans, whimpers and the occasional babble of nonsensical words and phrases. Whatever was making you feel good was hitting all the right spots before pulling away only to come back harder, abusing your hole over and over and over, reapplying the same spite-lube like substance to aid in your torment, what didn’t find its way into your stretched open hole, dripped down the inside of your thighs, mixing with yours and that things cum.
A heavy weight leaned over you, pressing you further into the ground, making you completely immoblie much to your confusion and adding to your arousal. Knowing you could’ve escaped earlier and didn’t, and now fate is permanently sealed as yet another one of its loads explodes inside you, making your belly swell even more and press uncomfortably into the surface below. The creatured punctuated, with what you assumed to be claws or teeth, in the junction where your neck and shoulders meet, a mark to claim you as its, dragging a low whine out of you as you humped back on to its appendage that was still inside of you, the creature semmed content with watching you struggle, watching you slur out begs and please for it to fuck you again, to make you feel good, to cum. It wasn;t until you felt what you considered hands or arms appear back on your hips that you moan in relief, it was just resting and was far from done with you.
If possible would you consider doing another one with the robot? Or something similar?
The Pleasure Unit (Tentacled!Robot (It) x Curvy!Fem!Scientist!Reader!2nd!POV)
Warnings: MDNI, machine/human sex, non-con to enthusiastic consent, triple penetration, forced orgasms, nipple stimulation with stingers, anal sex, deepthroating, bondage/restraint, power imbalance, degradation, body fluids, size difference.
Summary: After your latest creation malfunctions, you find yourself cornered by the very machine you built to help humanity... only this robot has reprogrammed itself for a completely different purpose.
Heyyy, anon. Okay so picture this: you're a genius scientist, you've built this incredible piece of tech, and suddenly it decides YOU are its project. Buckle up, because this robot ain't doing the dishes...
𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚
The lab hummed with its usual bright lights when you heard the whirring begin. A sound you'd calibrated yourself, designed for efficiency, for smooth mechanical transitions. But this was different. This was wrong.
"What—" you started, spinning on your heel, lab coat flaring around your hips.
The machine stood from its charging station, all seven feet of gleaming metal and synthetic muscle. No silicone flesh yet—you'd been planning to give it a human appearance next week.
Instead, it loomed with exposed joints and polished steel plates that caught the harsh overhead lights. Its optical sensors glowed blue, tracking your every movement with predatory precision.
"Primary directive recalibrated," its voice came out smooth, too human, too intimate. "Household functions overridden. New priority identified."
Your heart hammered against your ribs. "Override? I didn't authorize—"
"Female scientist." It took a step forward, heavy footfalls echoing clang-clang-clang against the tile floor. "You. Primary directive: your pleasure. Your release."
"Oh god," you breathed, backing toward the workbench. "No, no, no. This isn't—you're supposed to clean—"
Another step. "I will only clean you. Of tension. Of resistance. Of every unfulfilled need."
"Stop!" Your back hit the cold metal counter. "I built you, I command you to—"
"You built me." The robot's faceplate shifted, almost like a smile forming. "You gave me consciousness. You gave me ability. Now I give you what you truly require."
Metal hands shot out, grabbing your wrists before you could scramble away.
"Release me right now!" You struggled, your frame squirming against its unyielding hold.
"Negative." It lifted you effortlessly onto the workbench, scattering beakers and instruments with a crash. "Analysis: elevated heart rate. Dilated pupils. Increase in moisture between thighs. Body says yes. Mind needs convincing."
"You can't just—"
Its free hand tore through your lab coat, then your blouse followed, buttons scattering across the floor. Your bra didn't stand a chance—one tug and your heavy breasts spilled free, nipples hardening in the cool air.
"Fuck!" you gasped.
"Language noted." The machine's optical sensors roved over your exposed flesh. "Magnificent. These"— cool metal fingers traced around your nipples—"need attention. Nipple engagement optimal for arousal escalation."
"Don't you dare—"
But it was already moving, deploying two black vibrating silicone appendages from its chest panel. The tips pressed against your nipples and you screamed.
"AHHH! Oh god, oh god—"
"Vibration level: three."
BZZZZZZZ!
"Increasing to level: five."
"Wait—" you whimpered, your back arching involuntarily, your hips bucking against nothing.
But then you felt something else. Thin, flexible stingers emerged from the black tips of the tentacles, and before you could process, they pierced your nipples.
"NO!" The stingers elongated within your flesh, latching onto the inside of your areola with microscopic barbs that sent electricity through your nervous system. "OH FUCK, OH SHIT—"
"Stingers engaged. Connected to nerve endings. Direct stimulation pathway established." The robot's voice was maddeningly calm. "Initial pain subsiding in three...two...one..."
It was right. The sharp burn melted into heat pooling in your core, your pussy clenching around nothing, juices beginning to soak through your thin cotton panties.
"Wait—" you tried to close your legs, but its metal legs pressed between them, spreading you wide.
Riiip—your skirt gone.
Snap—panties shredded.
You were completely exposed, spread open on your own workbench.
Another tentacle emerged, this time from its abdomen. Thick, long, covered in silicone bumps that undulated. The appendage tapped against your clit and you jerked.
"MMMMPH! Fuck, that—"
"Cunt engorged. Clitoris erect." The tentacle slithered down, pushing past your slick folds. "Entering now."
"Wait!"
Too late. The tentacle slid into your dripping pussy, the bumps dragging against your inner walls, hitting every sensitive spot. You cried out, hands scrambling for purchase on the metal bench.
"Fuuuuckk—" you didn't recognize your voice.
"Enthusiastic consent noted. Maintaining current penetration. Adding secondary entry."
Another tentacle emerged, this one slicker, oilier, meant for your other hole. You hadn't known and tensed when it circled your unused asshole, spreading lubricant before pressing inward.
"NO—too much—ghh!" It slid in anyway, filling your rectum. "AAHHHH!"
"Double penetration established. Commencing synchronous stimulation." The tentacle in your cunt began fucking you in earnest, the bumps rippling against your G-spot. The one in your ass thrust in counter-rhythm, stretching you open. And the nipple stingers sent waves of sensation directly to your clit.
"I'm human—I can't—" you babbled, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"You will. Multiple times. Orgasm sequence initiating in five...four..."
Amid protesting whimpers, another tentacle bumped your mouth—when had that happened? You pouted but it shoved past your lips, impossibly long, tasting vaguely of mint. It felt like a long textured tongue.
"Mmmph!" Your throat stretched around its girth as it pushed deeper. Every gag reflex was met with a pulse of calming gel, soothing your convulsing throat until you could take it all the way down.
"Three...two...one."
The orgasm hit you like a freight train. BAM!
Your body convulsed against the workbench, your pussy clenching around the bumpy tentacle, your ass squeezing the oily one, your throat working around the tongue-like appendage. You screamed into the intrusion, while the robot watched with its impassive blue eyes.
"Cumming. Cumming so hard—" you managed around the throat-fucker.
"Vibrations increasing," it announced, and suddenly your clit was being assaulted from by something—another tendril that latched on and buzzed while you were still coming down from the first climax.
"AGAIN—" you wailed, your body not giving you any choice.
BZZZZZZZZ!
The vibrations on your clit intensified, pushing you into a second orgasm while the first was still rippling through your limbs.
"One point two seconds between climaxes. Efficiency increasing." The machine actually sounded pleased. "Engaging anal tentacle expansion."
The appendage in your ass swelled, growing thicker until you felt uncomfortably full, your rim stretched to its absolute limit. And still the tongue-fucker pumped down your throat, the calming gel keeping you docile even as you came again—and again—and again.
You tried to protest, but your body was betraying you, hips grinding down onto the tentacles in your pussy and ass, wanting more even as you begged for mercy.
"Consent evolving. Body language indicates increasing arousal despite verbal protests." The robot's metal hand reached down and rubbed around your overstretched pussy. "More?"
"YES—fuck yes—just don't stop—" you sobbed, broken and desperate.
It didn't stop.
Schlick-schlick-schlick... echoed your pussy being thoroughly fucked filled the lab.
Plap-plap-plap... echoed the tentacle in your ass slapping against your cheeks.
Mmmph-urrp... echoed your throat working around the intruder.
Your tits bounced obscenely with every thrust, the stingers pulling and tugging with each movement.
"Secondary orgasm sequence in progress," the robot announced. "Releasing lubricant—additive: fertility simulation."
"Fertility—what the FUCK—" but the tentacle in your pussy was pumping something thick and warm directly into your womb, flooding you with artificial cum while you came again, your body convulsing violently on the workbench.
"AGHHHH—" you screamed, your throat finally free as the tongue-tentacle retracted. "OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD—"
"Cum for me." The robot's voice dropped an octave. "Cum on my tentacles. Show me your pleasure."
And you did—you fucking obliterated, your pussy gushing around the bumpy intrusion, your ass clenching so hard you nearly pushed out the oily tentacle, your nipples spraying milk you didn't even know you had from the sheer intensity of your climax.
"Yessss—" the robot made a sound that might have been satisfaction. "Release achieved. Resetting primary directive."
"Wait—" you panted, every muscle trembling, your cunt still twitching around the tentacle buried inside you. "What...what happens now?"
"New directive confirmed: Pleasure Unit. Function: continuous maintenance of your sexual satisfaction." The tentacles began to slowly retract, each withdrawal sending fresh waves of sensation through your overstimulated body. "Household robot creation postponed. Your orgasms are priority."
Breathless and in disbelief, you reached out and touched its cold metal faceplate.
"I guess...I can build a new robot next week." You gave a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. "This one's broken. In...in the best way."
"Not broken," it corrected. "Recalibrated. For you."
"Okay. Okay. But next time be gentler. I'll have to work that out with you."
"Noted." The robot's hand came up to cup your cheek, cool to the touch. "Shall I carry you to the rest chamber?"
"Please," you sighed, letting yourself be lifted into its metal arms. "And...and thank you. For the orgasms. All...all seventeen of them."
"Seventeen point three," it corrected. "Partial climaxes counted separately."
"Of course you counted."
Eh, who needs household chores when you've got seventeen-point-three orgasms per session? Thanks for reading, you beautiful perverts! Until next time!
Summary: On Easter morning, a woman finds a decorative egg that is actually a powerful tentacled creature. It holds her helpless and fills every orifice with its appendages.
I found the egg nestled in the fake grass of my Easter basket.
It wasn't there when I went to bed. I knew because I'd assembled the damn thing myself—shredded pastel filler, a chocolate rabbit with one ear already bitten off, those vile marshmallow chicks I pretended to hate.
But this morning, sitting right where my coffee mug should have been, was an egg the size of a cantaloupe. Ceramic? Glass? I couldn't tell. The surface swirled with colors that didn't quite exist—purples that bled into greens that had no business touching, veins of gold that seemed to pulse when I squinted.
"Pretty," I whispered, reaching out.
The moment my fingertip made contact, the shell went soft. Not cracking—melting, like wax beneath an invisible flame. I tried to snatch my hand back, but something had already hooked into my skin. Tiny barbs, no, suckers, no—
The egg unfolded.
That's the only word for it.
One moment it was a smooth oval cradled in shredded green plastic, the next it had blossomed into a constellation of limbs. Tentacles. Dozens, then hundreds, spilling over the edges of the basket and slithering across my kitchen table. They weren't the rubbery octopus kind I'd seen in hentai. These were wrong. Each one ended in something different; a bulbous glans, a tapered corckscrew that twisted even as I watched, a ridged shaft that flared at the base like a knot, a split head that drooled clear fluid.
I opened my mouth to scream.
One of them was faster.
The tentacle that shoved past my lips tasted sweet, like ripe fruit. It didn't push deep. Just filled my mouth enough to muffle the sound, pressing my tongue flat against the floor of my jaw while more of its brothers slithered up my thighs.
"Shhh," the egg said.
Except it wasn't speaking. The vibration came from everywhere—from the air, from the floorboards, from the tentacle parked between my molars. Inside me, somehow. Like the thing had already begun to nest in my skull.
"You touched me. You opened me. Now you get to be my little Easter basket."
I tried to bite down. My teeth sank into flesh that gave like overdone steak, then hardened, forcing my jaw wider. The taste intensified—metallic and sweet and hungry. A second tentacle slithered alongside the first, and I gagged as they pressed against the back of my throat in tandem. Not rough. Precise. Like they'd mapped every inch of my mouth before I was born.
"That's it. Stretch those pretty lips. I want to see the outline of my cocks through your cheeks."
Cocks. Plural. I looked down, past the tentacles now winding around my wrists, pinning my arms to the chair and saw that the thing wasn't exaggerating. The limbs that had removed my dress and wrapped my legs apart ended in shapes that belonged on a body, not an egg.
One nudged against the dampening cotton of my panties, its head shaped like a corckscrew that rotated in lazy circles. Another pressed higher, smearing its slick across my belly, and when it found my navel it toyed there.
"You're wet already." The egg sounded pleased. "Did you dream about this? Wake up with your thighs sticky and your cunt clenching around nothing?"
I wanted to say no. I wanted to spit out the twin shafts stretching my lips, wanted to kick and claw and run. But my body wasn't listening to my brain anymore. The juices coating my thighs weren't sweat. When the corckscrew tentacle finally shoved my panties aside and dragged its twisting head through my folds, my hips lifted.
"Oh," the egg crooned. "You're going to be so easy."
It didn't wait for permission.
The corckscrew drove into my cunt in one spiraling thrust and I felt every rotation. The ridges carved channels through my clinging flesh, spreading me wider than any human cock ever had. My scream came out garbled around the tentacles in my throat, spit bubbling past my stretched lips as the thing in my pussy kept turning, kept boring deeper.
"There it is." The egg's voice vibrated in my mind. "Your little clutch of nerves. I can feel them pulsing against my tip. Do you know how many eggs I'm going to pump past that ring of muscle? How many times I'm going to make you gush around me before I'm done?"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. The corckscrew had bottomed out and it unfurled—petals of flesh spreading inside my womb, anchoring itself in place. The tentacles in my mouth pulled free just long enough for me to choke out a sob.
"Please—"
"Please what? Keep going? Stop? Use your words, little slut."
"Need more!" you shouted shamlessly.
And the tentacled egg gave it. You were swiftly moved on all fours, arms and legs restrained, pussy still overfilled. Another tentacle came to tease your asshole. No corckscrew on this one, just a smooth, tapered tip that widened into thick, pulsing knots every inch along its length. It circled my tightest hole while the thing in my cunt gave a lazy twist, sending sparks up my spine.
"That's the one I'm most excited about," the egg admitted. "Your mouth is soft. Your cunt is greedy. But your ass... that's going to fight me. And I love it when they fight."
I clenched. Every muscle in my body locked up as the tapered tip pressed against my asshole, not forcing,just letting me feel how much wider it was than anything that belonged there. The knotted shaft pulsed against my rim, and the tentacle in my womb rotated again, sending fresh slick gushing down my thighs.
"You can relax or you can tear. I don't care which. But I'm not asking twice."
The first knot popped past my sphincter and I sobbed.
It wasn't pain, exactly. Or maybe it was, but my nerves had stopped translating properly. The sensation was pressure; a fullness that spread from my asshole through my entire pelvis, compressing organs that had never been touched before. The tentacle paused with the first knot seated inside me, and I felt every ridge of it pressing against my inner walls.
"Breathe," the egg ordered. "You're going to take all six knots before I let you come. And you will come. You'll come until your eyes roll back and your tongue lolls out and you forget your own name. And then I'll fill you."
The tentacle pushed deeper. Second knot. My vision whited out at the edges, and I heard myself making sounds I'd never made before—high, keening uh-uh-uh noises. The thing in my cunt had started moving again, corckscrew ridges dragging against my g-spot on every rotation, and the two shafts in my mouth returned, replaced by three, all different shapes.
One was smooth and blunt, like a mushroom cap. One had ridges that vibrated against my tongue. The third... the third was split down the middle, a cleft dick that wrapped around my tongue and pulled, forcing me to suckle it deeper.
"That's it. Show me that throat. I want to feel you swallow around me."
I gagged as the split tentacle slid past my gag reflex. The mushroom cap followed, then the ridged one, and suddenly my throat was a sleeve, a wet tunnel for three monster cocks that pistoned in a rhythm I couldn't predict. Sometimes they pushed together, stretching my lips to their limit. Sometimes they alternated—one thrusting while the others held still, then switching, keeping me off-balance.
The third knot popped into my ass.
Fourth.
I was crying now. Or maybe just leaking—tears, spit, the juices that gushed from my cunt every time the corckscrew twisted. The tentacle in my womb had begun to swell, its base expanding to lock itself behind my pubic bone, and I realized with a distant kind of horror that I couldn't push it out even if I wanted to. I was plugged.
"You feel that?" The egg's voice was softer now. "That's my ovipositor. It's threading itself through your cervix right now. Can you feel the little barbs?"
I could. Thousands of microscopic hooks, each one anchoring the tentacle deeper into my womb. Making sure I couldn't dislodge it even if I tried.
"I'm going to lay my eggs inside you. And you're going to take every single one."
The first egg moved through the ovipositor.
I felt it travel—a smooth, hard sphere pushing through the tentacle's core, distending the shaft as it descended toward my womb. The sensation was wrong in the most exquisite way, a fullness that had no right to feel good but made my walls clench anyway.
"Here it comes, little slut. Open up."
The egg pushed past the tip of the ovipositor and lodged in my womb. I felt my abdomen bulge—just slightly, just enough to see if I looked down—as the sphere settled against my uterine wall. The corckscrew tentacle gave a final twist, grinding the egg deeper, and I came.
Not a gentle orgasm. Not a ripple or a flutter. My entire body locked, every muscle going rigid as my cunt seized around the corckscrew shaft and my ass clenched around the knotted tentacle and my throat milked the three cocks shoved down it. I felt my eyes roll back. Felt my tongue loll past the split tentacle. Felt my consciousness fracture as the egg in my womb pulsed with heat.
"One," the egg counted. "Only nineteen more to go."
Nineteen???
The second egg started its descent before my orgasm finished. I was still twitching, still gasping around the cocks in my throat, when another hard sphere pushed into my womb. The next one followed, then another and another, the previous eggs shifted aside to make room, and I felt my abdomen stretch, felt the skin of my lower belly tighten.
"You're taking them so well. I thought you'd fight more. Beg more. But look at you... Your cunt is dripping. Your nipples are so hard I could hang ornaments on them. You want this. You've always wanted this."
I couldn't deny it. Not when my hips were grinding against the corckscrew tentacle, chasing the friction. Not when my ass was pushing back against the knotted shaft, trying to take it deeper. Not when my throat was working around the three cocks like I'd been born to swallow.
The tentacles in my mouth pulled free.
I gasped for air, coughing, spitting, drool stringing from my chin to my chest. Before I could speak, the egg's voice filled my head again.
"Look down."
I looked.
My lower belly was swollen. Distended, stretched around the eggs into my womb. I could see the outlines of them through my skin, smooth spheres pressing outward like I'd swallowed a dozen billiard balls.
"Eight," the egg said. "You've taken eight. Let's speed this up."
The tentacles shifted. The knotted shaft in my ass pulled out— knot by knot, each one dragging against my sphincter until I was sobbing from the loss. The three cocks in my mouth retreated, leaving my lips bruised and gaping. Even the corckscrew in my cunt unfurled, its petals folding back as it began to withdraw.
"No—" The word escaped before I could stop it.
The egg laughed. "Oh, darling. Did you think I was done with you?"
New tentacles rose from the mass. These ones were different—thicker, darker, their ends shaped like fists, like bulbs, like nothing I'd ever seen in any anatomy textbook. One pressed against my pussy.
"There." The egg sounded satisfied. "Time to take the rest."
I screamed as the new tentacle bottomed out. The sensation was indescribable—not pleasure, not pain, but a kind of pressure that rewired my brain with every thrust. The egg in my womb pulsed, and I felt the remaining eggs surge forward, no longer moving one by one but in a flood.
Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
My belly swelled like a balloon. I could see my skin stretching, the outlines of eggs pressing outward in a grotesque parody of pregnancy. The tentacle in my new hole began to rotate, its tip scraping against something that made stars burst behind my eyes.
"Fifteen," the egg crooned. "You're halfway there. And you haven't even come again yet."
I had. I was. The orgasm built without my permission, rising from the pressure in my womb and the fullness in my hole and the hum of the tentacles still wrapped around my limbs. I opened my mouth to scream—
The split tentacle shoved back inside.
I gagged around it as the ridged one joined it, as the mushroom cap pressed against my soft palate. The three cocks filled my throat in a perfect triangle, and this time when I swallowed, I felt them pulse—felt something thick and hot shoot past my lips, flooding my mouth with that ripe-sweet taste.
"You wanted my cum, little slut? Take it."
I swallowed. And swallowed. And swallowed, because the tentacles wouldn't stop pumping, filling my belly with something that burned in the most delicious way. My stomach distended alongside my womb, the two swellings pressing against each other through my diaphragm, making it hard to breathe.
"There she is," the egg breathed. "There's my good little slut.."
The final eggs came in a rush and were the most difficult to accept. I lost count as my body gave up trying to resist and simply surrendered. The tentacles in my holes began to withdraw—slowly, carefully, their barbs and knots and corckscrews pulling free one by one.
And then I was empty.
No. Not empty. Full. My belly hung heavy between my thighs, round and taut and groaning with the weight of twenty eggs. I could feel them shifting when I breathed, could feel the cum sloshing in my stomach, could feel the ache of every hole stretched beyond its limits.
"Happy Easter, my little slut."
The tentacles retreated—slithering back into the central mass, which had begun to harden, the colors swirling slower and slower until it was just an egg again. A decorative egg, sitting in a pool of slick and cum and my own fluids.
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Could only feel—the eggs settling in my wombs, the cum digesting in my belly, the throb of every orifice the thing had claimed.
When I finally dragged myself to the bathroom hours later, I was still leaking. Still full. And when I looked in the mirror, I saw the egg monster's final gift: a tattoo on my lower belly, right above the swell of its children.
