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You wait - stomach a tangle of nerves and anticipation. Long, sinuous tentacles slide smoothly over you, provoking occasional shivers as their soft surfaces touch sensitive parts of your body. Two strong limbs grip your wrists and raise your arms over your head so you dangle, not uncomfortably, with your feet just touching the ground and your body stretched out between ceiling and floor.

The back of your neck prickles with awareness of the huge presence behind you and another tentacle wraps around your neck and chin, preventing you from turning your head around to get a look at them. All you can see is the beach and the tranquil ocean through the tall plate glass window that you both face. Honestly, you aren’t sure you want to know what Elliot really looks like in this form anyway.

Besides moving your body into whatever position they desire, five or six tentacles slide carefully over your legs and back and torso. They hold you still and massage you until you eventually exhale and let yourself release muscles that you hadn't realized had nervously tensed up until now. Good, Elliot murmurs in your mind as they work. You're safe. Just relax.

Nothing more happens for a while, and you find your eyelids dropping as the massage, the sound of the ocean outside, and Elliot's telepathic reassurances combine to relax you more than Elliot's (human) hands had done half a day ago. You dangle peacefully while smaller tentacles work your calves over and two large ones press and stroke at the muscles around your ribcage. Half-asleep, you only gradually realize that the velvet surfaces of the tentacles are becoming moist, leaving a faint sheen behind them as they pass over your skin. But the liquid isn’t cold, instead warming up gently and you instinctively arch into the tentacles' touch where you had been passive before.

The secretions do more than warm your skin. Though Elliot's tentacles pass nowhere near your erogenous zones, wherever they touch, the heat begins to prickle and you begin to feel it deeper in your flesh, causing you to squirm as they sensitize your skin, magnifying the luxurious velvety texture of each tentacle.

Your vagina clenches when a tentacle slides from your lower back, over your ass, and curls around your right thigh. "I'm - Jesus, Elliot, this is - I’m ridiculously wet," you say half in wonder, and receive the mental impression of a lascivious grin in reply. That’s all the warning you get before two strong tentacles wrap around your thighs and yank your legs apart, knocking you off balance and exposing your moist cunt to cool air, making you clench harder. "Ah!”

You’ve got no leverage like this, your back forced into an arch by a tentacle at your waist, your legs spread wide, absolutely immobilized. You gasp, acutely aware of how extremely vulnerable you are in that position, exposed to Elliot and the world - and it just gets you wetter, enough for beads of your own moisture to drip down your leg.

You squirm anyway, unable to do anything against your restraints. And then four slender tentacles slide quickly from behind and wrap around your breasts, squeezing and massaging in a rhythm that spikes your lust into new urgency. One of the tentacles slithers up and plucks at your left nipple, a delicate tease, tearing another gasp from you. It’s also glistening with whatever aphrodisiac Elliot’s secreting, and you whimper as it circles daintily over the rapidly hardening bud.

"Oh my fucking god,” you moan as cool air caresses your dripping cunt, sending curls of pleasure through your body. Combined with the fondling of your breasts - and that maddening stimulation of your nipple - it brings you teetering to the edge embarrassingly easily. If they could just...a little...and after a teasing pause, a tentacle on your right breast smears itself over your right nipple, rocking against it to the same rhythm as the left tentacle, rubbing aphrodisiac into unbearably sensitive flesh and you throw your head back and moan when you shake into orgasm so sweetly and easily, clenching around nothing.

Elliot keeps fondling your breasts and rubbing your nipples while you come, slicking them in fluid and keeping them from getting sore. Instead, they swell even more, hardening and sensitizing until you‘re twisting uselessly, biting back the scream rising in your throat.

You may scream, Elliot says to you. You're safe with me. You can only pant in reply, as another tentacle slides between your legs, coating itself in its own secretions and your natural lube. You groan then, trembling while the tentacle glides near-frictionless across your cunt, brushing against your clit, stroking your labia frustratingly slowly. Another tentacle moves from your lower back downwards, pressing between your ass cheeks and molding itself firmly into the crease. It send sparks of sensation from your asshole, and you whimper when the two tentacles slide alongside each other and press themselves harder against you, sealing your ass and vagina and perineum and clit against soft, muscular limbs as they rock back and forth. Everything between your legs pulses with need, delicious and agonizing at once.

Two of the tentacles that had been occupied stroking your breasts rise up then, waving in front of you. The tips split open and long red tongues slide out, already dripping with milky liquid. The obscene sight of the tongues alone shock you, so it’s like electricity when they twine around your nipples, coarse and rasping and wet and hot. You arch back with a cry, desperately pushing your breasts up into their burning touch, like liquid fire in your brain. Then one of the tentacles between your legs slides back a little and curls upwards. It pushes its blunt head into your vagina, thoroughly dripping with lube and, god, that aphrodisiac.

The first slow stretch blanks your mind out, pleasure setting fire to your nerves. The tongues on your breasts flick rapidly at your nipples while the tentacle in your cunt slowly settles in and thickens even more slowly, inexorably stretching your inner muscles wide. The disparity in pace is the only thing keeping you from tipping over into orgasm immediately.

"Elliot, Elliot...fuck, please,” you beg, writhing ineffectually in your restraints. You can’t wiggle more than an inch in any direction, and your legs spasm as you pull against the tentacles holding them. The one in your cunt keeps swelling, thicker and thicker until you feel impossibly stretched out. You’re so fucking full, you’ve never been this full...the tentacle pulses gently against your inner walls, a heavy heartbeat that causes you to moan weakly while a tongue squeezes your right nipple and the tentacle on your ass withdraws slightly, only to return and tickle teasingly at your hole.

You gulp. The air seems to drive out of your lungs when the tentacles on your wrists, waist and thighs curl tighter and lift you up, just enough for the enormous tentacle inside you to slide halfway out, wet and obscene. With indescribable delicacy, they carefully lower you, filling you to capacity. You start to shake as they raise and lower you again, and again, and again. They fuck you slow and ruthless on that tentacle until a high whine starts in your throat. Your vagina clenches frantically around it, desperately straining for release, but Elliot doesn’t relent. Even the tentacles on your breasts cease to stroke, they merely curl around your breasts and rest comfortably while their master drives you to desperation.

You can feel moisture spurting wetly between your legs, keeping you slick and sensitive, and you strangle a scream when the pace picks up. Faster and faster, you’re completely helpless as the tentacle pounds in and out. Choked moans spill from your lips, despairing sounds torn from your lungs, only to be muffled when a tentacle lovingly curls around your cheek and slides into your mouth.

You suck obediently, glad of the distraction, surprised to find a cool liquid coating your tongue - a welcome relief from the hot, all-consuming frenzy. It tingles when you swallow, a feeling that doesn’t cease as it runs down your throat. Your eyes widen as the tingling seems to spread in your muscles and skin all the way out to your fingers and toes, sending a fresh wave of sensation to your overloaded mind. The scream builds in the back of your throat.

You can't...can'’re completely stuffed. A soft, helpless, electrified thing being fucked on both ends. The tentacle below slams deep into your cunt, pulsing savagely, punching groans out around the tentacle in your mouth as an agonizing pleasure unfolds in your groin, a slow, pounding orgasm that spreads through your body and shakes you like a rag doll.

Elliot slows the pace while you writhe and scream, but they keep fucking you through the orgasm, merciless in their pleasure. You finally work through the aftershocks, tears dripping down your face, spasming against your restraints. The cool liquid from the tentacle in your mouth soothes your raw throat. You whimper with dread and excitement as the tentacle in your cunt still keeps sliding in and out. You’re covered head to toe in fluids, sweat and aphrodisiac mingling in a heady combination, but— We’re not done yet, Elliot reassures you.

The tentacles bring you to a slow stop, holding you firmly still again, but the phallus filling your cunt begins to swell and contract, expanding until you think your vagina couldn't possibly stretch more, only for it to shrink and start the process again. Where you would’ve been exhausted and fucked out after two incredible orgasms, the liquid you’d swallowed stokes your hormones and keeps you burning with arousal.

A long tongue unfolds from where it lay coiled around your breast, and slithers over your both nipples, rocking them back and forth in tandem, and you whimper. Two more tentacles began squeezing your breasts again, softly. Your cunt’s clenching rhythmically, and you’re so far gone you don’t notice the saliva welling up in your mouth and spilling all over your chin, coating the tentacle still pulsing in your mouth.

Elliot keeps the slow, slow teasing up until your muscles have relaxed somewhat from your previous orgasm, only spasming occasionally as they carefully maintain your arousal. You moan in protest when they gradually bring all movement to a standstill, and your hands clench into fists as the teasing drives you mad with desire. At last, there’s no more movement at all, though you remain impaled on a long thick tentacle and a broad flat tongue lies quiescent on your nipples, keeping them warm. You clench your vagina frantically, but to no avail.

God fucking dammit, Elliot, let me fucking come, you cry in your thoughts, unable to voice them aloud.

Patience, darling, they reply, amused and enjoying your growing desperation. They let you squirm for a minute, unable to rock your hips more than a few centimeters against the thick tentacles wrapped around your waist and thighs. Hold still, they finally admonish, relishing the brief rebellion in your thoughts, but they tighten their restraining tentacles to reinforce their words.

When you go limp, they strike. Keeping you still, they wrap a thinner tentacle around your hips, lightning-quick, and the satin-smooth end of it slithers down between your labia. It’s already wet, leaving tingling secretions where it goes, and you jerk hard as it slides squarely over your clitoris. You can’t move, can’t move your hips, can’t cry out to Elliot, can merely swallow more aphrodisiac as the only thing to move on your body sets a wicked rhythm rubbing your clit up and down. Your vagina clenches agonizingly on the thick phallus motionless inside you, keeping you stretched as the thin tentacle flicks your clit back and forth.

You come within a long, breathless moment, every muscle in your body trying to seize up as the thin tentacle flattens its end out and plasters itself to your clit, switching to long strokes and prolonging your orgasm as you mindlessly thrash. It’s like a hot brand, laid on your most sensitive organ, frictionless with moisture.

You sob around the tentacle in your mouth, eyes wide, as Elliot ruthlessly stimulates your clit, and then the tentacle in your cunt starts moving again, rocking in and out of your vagina just enough to brush against the outer nerves of your cunt. Your whole body shakes in an orgasmic daze, pushed beyond the limits of human arousal. The tentacle that’d been between your ass cheeks comes back to life, rubbing teasing circles around your hole.

God, yes, please, you whimper in your mind, hardly knowing what you’re pleading anymore. It rests lightly against you, letting its velvety surface stimulate your skin while you mindlessly rock your hips, caught between the tentacle stroking your clit, the slowly thrusting phallus filling your cunt, and the tentacle moving delicately against your asshole.

You’re tender, so fucking tender, but you desperately want it, want the blunt head of that tentacle pressing into you, carefully stretching your hole and forcing you open beyond your limits. You try to relax, but you’re hardly in control anymore, and you clench hard when the long tongue on your breasts starts moving again. Another tongue joins it, and they slither over your throbbing nipples, strumming in counterpoint to the thin tentacle now flicking your clit in hard bursts and causing you to jerk against your restraints with abandon. Every inch of skin feels sensitized, overloading your mind with pleasure.

You’re pinned like a butterfly, caught, as the tentacle on your ass smoothly, inexorably slides into your hole, rubbing up against the tentacle in your cunt, only separated by a thin wall. Jesus fuck. You're more full than you’ve ever been in your life. The aching pressure between your hips, in your abdomen, is unbearable - a tiny part of you convinced you’re about to tear irreparably in two - but you can’t escape, can’t do anything while slippery tongues lovingly rub your nipples, making you squirm helplessly and clench down on both thick tentacles deep inside you. Which only makes the pressure even worse. Skidding dangerously close to sensation overload.

More tears well up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks. Almost cruelly, Elliot slows the rhythm down again. Even the tentacle on your clit only teases it, barely whispering across sensitive nerves while you whine around the tentacle desultorily sliding in and out of your mouth. Your arms and legs tremble, rebelling against this unprecedented use of your body, and you shiver as tentacles feather all over slick, swollen flesh.

I want you undone, hopeless with pleasure, devoid of all thought except me, Elliot whispers in your mind, and you move your head minutely within your restraints, trying to toss your head in frustration. Fucking going insane already, you fucker! They chuckle gently, clearly savoring the desperation that crackles from your mind as they slowly fuck your ass and mouth and cunt.

After long, torturous minutes, when your thoughts have degenerated into incoherent begging, they imperceptibly and gently increase the rhythm. You’re panting hard, pushing your chest into the warm wet tongues, and they curl tightly around your breasts, cupping and molding and massaging, while the tongue tips press and roll your nipples. The thin tentacle between your thighs flattens and spreads itself against your clit again, cupping it as well and rocking against sensitive nerves in a deep, almost painful caress. The phalluses in your cunt and ass set up a pistoning rhythm, alternating thrusts so you’re always feeling the slide and always stuffed impossibly deep at the same time, filling you up over and over - and you scream as your body spasms like you’re being fucking electrocuted.

Orgasm sweeps over you like the edge of a storm.

Each time you climax, Elliot speeds the pace up until you’re bouncing on the tentacles inside you, and the tongues blur over your nipples. You stop screaming after a while, your throat gone raw despite the slippery liquid coating it, and your skin drips with hot, electrifying liquid all over your body and erogenous zones. You’re staring at nothing, unaware of your surroundings, helpless, filled, used, fucked in every way. Orgasms blend together until your mind, overloaded, can no longer think or reason - all you can do is feel: your clit being massaged, your breasts being assaulted, and that endless, ruthless fucking in and out of your vagina and ass, turning your insides to liquid.

Your vision begins to white out. You come, over and over until there’s no beginning and no end to each climax - until you’re on the brink of passing out from pleasure, and then Elliot slams each tentacle into you as far as they’ll go and holds you there, impaled in every sense of the term. You thrash in complete erotic ecstasy, mindless with blazing pleasure, and that’s where your memory finally stops.


Gentle caresses finally wake you up - and a ravenous hunger somewhere in your midsection. You come back to consciousness slowly, dimly aware of the lassitude weighing your limbs down, all of you floating on a sea of endorphins. You sigh as the petting turns into kneading and you wiggle lazily in pleasure as a knot gets worked out of your shoulder. You gradually became aware of soft cotton sheets, and a mattress, and sleepily conclude that you must have been moved back to the bed.

"Back with the living, I see," a resonant voice says in your ear, and you open your eyes. Elliot has shrunk back down to their human form, holding you close to their body while they run human hands over your body in long strokes. The air still smells like sex, but they mostly smell like soap and warm, clean skin.

You snuggle closer and hum agreeably at them, too mellowed-out to form words. Elliot laughs.

"Probably starving after all that activity. I'll get you some food and water, just give me a second, okay?" With a final caress, they disentangle themself and get out of bed, heading to the kitchen. You stretch, and sigh, and fall asleep while waiting.