Chapter Text
He smelled it before he knew what it was. A mix of oil and smoke and sweetness, something he could barely describe let alone comprehend. The tendrils left a slimy substance in their wake, and seemingly wanted nothing more than to slither along his body. Vittorino shivered at the feeling of them wrapping around his appendages loosely, hot and lapping at him like tongues.
His newly found blindness kept him from identifying the tentacled beast whose clutches he’d found himself in. It was that strange creature with four arms and an appearance that looked less like Vittorino by the moment, its disguise melting over time. In truth, it didn’t really matter what specifically it was that was currently pulling at his belt and binding his wrists. It wanted his body — as a host — which he found out soon enough as a tentacle slithered into his boxers and ran along his shaft.
“Oo—oh, shit—“ Vittorino groans behind his teeth, his brain barely lagging behind the realization that he’s stumbled into some kind of trap. “What is this…?”
He attempts to tug one of his hands closer to his middle, only barely moving it as the taut tendril holding them above his head has no give. The one in his underwear wraps around his dick with an unforgiving grip and he sucks in a breath.
I’m otherwise in a life or death situation, trapped in this labyrinth, and I’m just letting this THING fuck me? was all Vittorino could think. But on the other hand, he’d appreciate a death where, God willing, he can spend his last moments in pleasure. He didn’t have anything else to lose, considering it’d probably been days and he was still stuck in the catacombs.
His legs get hoisted up into the air by his ankles, spread apart and leaving him totally exposed. Well, other than his pants — though only a moment passes before he hears the sound of fabric ripping and feels the cold air against his legs. Even his underwear had been completely discarded. More tentacles suddenly flock to get under his robe, pushing it up as far as it’ll go to wiggle around his waist and poke at his nipples like the beast is testing him. He can’t help but squirm, hard-on twitching in its grasp.
Vittorino lets out an indignant yelp as another tentacles presses against his asshole. He’s lucky it knows better than to force its way inside, but the feeling of it nudging, almost licking at him makes him cringe. He’s not usually one to bottom, let alone receive a rimjob, so he’s embarrassed by how much his cock leaks.
Feeling precum drip down his head only makes his desire for real friction stronger. He attempts to thrust his hips up, meeting resistance from ever angle as he’s held steady by the creature. Luckily, it seems to catch on and the tentacle holding his erection finally begins to stroke him off. He releases a contented, gruff sigh, tilting his head back in relief.
Vittorino allows himself to melt into all of the sensations overtaking him, only hoping both he and the beast last long enough to make it worth while. A thin tendril is placed on his lips like a flaccid dick, and he takes it into his mouth without thinking. The taste is like french kissing a chainsmoker with a piece of candy in their mouth. It’s not as bad as he’d guess from the smell, but it’s slimy and dripping.
He sucks on it to the best of his ability, feeling his stomach growl at the faint sweet taste. The more he services the phallic intrusion, the sweeter it tastes. He thinks it must be secreting some kind of fluid, and as disgusting as the prospect is his heart skips a beat at the idea of eating again. As he laps at the tentacle, he’s forced to remember the existence of the one poking around his entrance as it becomes impatient. It pushes against his hole, wiggling slightly until it manages to fit its tip inside. Vittorino grimaces at the stretch, moaning as it rubs against his prostate on its mission to colonize his insides.
The head might’ve been thin, but the the rest of it only seemed to get thicker as it inched deeper inside, stretching him beyond anything he’d ever attempted before. He feels tears in his eyes, though he’s lucky to not actually feel any pain. It thrusts like a calculated machine, brushing against his prostate over and over and over until before the tension in his loins reaches its peak. He arches his back as his poor dick finishes, splattering cum on the floor below until he’s been milked dry inside and out.
Vittorino breathes quickly through his nose, glad to feel the appendage around his cock retreat and the one in his ass grow stagnant. That was too fast for my liking, he thought, his thighs and crotch still pulsing from the intensity. He tried to inhale around the tentacle in his mouth only to feel it push farther inside. He huffs, grimacing at the tip’s closeness to his throat.
A small stream of sweet, syrupy fluid leaks out and he swallows it desperately. He needed something —anything to fill his shriveled, empty stomach, which is exactly what the tendril’s goal seems to be. The more he drinks, the more the rich liquid is poured into him — the stream only getting stronger and stronger. He has no other option besides swallowing down the torrent of fluid as it continues to flow. Tiny, gasping squeaks escape his throat between gulps as his stomach is totally flooded by the warm goop.
Then suddenly the limb retracts, but not before spraying some on his face like a cumshot. He bares his teeth, only being able to clean himself by licking his lips. Though the fullness was uncomfortable, Vittorino was content to have a full belly for the first time in… well, in any recent times at least. The skin on his stomach felt taut and warm, like he was completely full.
He could’ve almost forgotten the predicament he was in if not for the pulsing arm still lodged firmly in his ass. He felt full from every angle, and seriously had to wonder why this thing was still inside him. It was frozen in place, tip buried deep in his colon somewhere and while not painful, it certainly didn’t feel great either. It gives a little jerk that drags over his g-spot and he whimpers quietly. Was he just spending his last hours of life as a monster’s cockwarmer? What else could this creature possibly want with him?
The tentacles around Vittorino’s legs push his knees up like he’s in a horizontal birthing position. The one inside him slowly returns to its original thrusting speed and his spent cock springs to life again. He clenches his fists, limply accepting the assault on his prostate as drool drips from his lips.
Without his knowledge, the tentacle inside him was charging up, so to speak. After enough preparation, it found that it was finally ready to breed its newfound host. Small, round eggs slowly made their way down the hose-like structure within the tendril. Eventually, one of the bulges came in contact with Vittorino’s entrance and it ceased thrusting. He could feel the pressure of something new pushing into his hole, and a breathy moan barely escaped his lips as it popped inside, stretching him further. His dick dribbled pathetically against his stomach.
“What was— aah..” He attempts before the tentacle resumes thrusting and cuts his off. The egg slowly makes its way deeper before being laid with a burst of fluid. “Shit, is this thing l-laying eggs in me..???”
The weight of just the lone egg sits in his intestines like a rock, and as his worry grows, so does his arousal. He was already terribly close to orgasm, and the idea of being filled to the brim made him hornier than ever. He bites his lip, preparing as another bulge meets the rim of his asshole. He takes a deep breath and tries to relax, feeling it slip inside easily.
The next one is bigger. It pushes inside him, unrelenting, making him squirm, and the fourth is even bigger. The tentacle thrusts into him, forcing the larger egg inside with it, and the resulting pressure is too much. He cums all over his stomach, babbling nonsense to himself between gasps. The tendril continues to empty its spawn into him. The feeling is addicting and he revels in how sore he becomes.
As disgusting as it was, part of him wished for his sight to return just to watch his abdomen swell.
And swell it did. Not obscenely, but if he were a woman there’d be no doubt others would think he was pregnant.
And even if he couldn’t see it, he could definitely feel it. Feeling himself grow more gravid by the minute until eventually the flow of eggs ceases. His hole is left empty before he has a chance to process it. He expects to be able to push the eggs out, but whatever fluid the tentacle was secreting sealed them inside. The ones wrapped around his limbs slowly lower him to the ground, back propped up against a wall. They continue to rub against his body soothingly, but don’t make any attempt to detain him.
Not that he wanted to run in the first place, considering how heavy he felt. Vittorino hesitantly reaches for his abdomen, giving it an exploratory grope. His body heats up in embarrassment as he rubs the defined curve of his stomach. Oh God, what is this? What just happened? He can’t even begin to reason with himself about how much he enjoyed it— how aroused he still was. But as the high wore off he also realized how completely exhausted he felt.
Vittorino leans back against the wall, exhaling with labored breaths. One of the tentacles resting on his hip nuzzles against the side of his stomach happily. The eggs inside respond by rolling around in his gut in interest. He groans weakly, letting his eyes fall shut as he drifts to sleep.