Finch chuckled into Reese’s mouth, pulling back to lick his lips, tasting the coffee Reese had drank earlier. He raised his left eye brow with a smirk, pushing his glasses back up to their rightful place, the square frames enlarging his eyes.
“Well, Mr. Reese, I must say… you never disappoint.” He murmured, stepping back to appreciate Mr. Reese’s body, the well-toned muscle hidden by his shirt, the stubble of his five o-clock coming along just nicely, a thick cock hidden behind black slacks. Lifting his blue gaze to Reese’s the mood was killed when Bear slunk from under the desk and started growling. Both men watched the dog’s hackle rise as it shock and growled. “Mr. Reese?” Finch asked, growing more concerned by the second, he backed up toward the desk.
“What’s the matter, Bear?” Reese asked, drawing his gun and aiming down the corridor nearly hidden by hundreds of Harold’s books, nearly. It was dusty, lined with selves of books toward the front, then turned into wooden floor paneling and stone walls once the light overhead gave way into the darkness. Bear only yipped furiously, snarling at something within the darkened chamber. “Harold, is there anything in there that you keep?”
“O-Other than a few books, no, I never really went too far into that hallway… it gave me the creeps.” Finch informed, staying back and watching as Reese and Bear drew closer, both sporting weapons of their own. There’s was a movement from inside the tunnel, but before he could register anything, he watched as a green substance wound its way around Reese’s ankle’s, and pulled him into the darkness. “John!” Finch exclaimed, jumping up and moving toward there, a mistake. Just like before, a green thing lashed out, secured his legs and dragged him into the darkness. He could hear Bears echoes of panicked barking as the light overhead dimmed out, and darkness surrounded.
“Oh, god… ow, my hip.” Harold gritted his teeth as he sat up, hand griping his right hip as he groaned in pain. A movement behind him caused his heart to jump start again, but it was only Reese. He too was sitting up, rubbing his wrists, gun knocked out of his hands. Both were uninjured, only a little bit of drag burn on their backs. Eyes adjusting to the dim light surrounding them, Finch lifted his glasses to rub at his eyes. Reese slide closer to him, protectively glancing around.
Within two minutes they saw what had dragged them down here. “Oh my god…” Reese mumbled under his breath, eye wide. The room was simple enough, an old, dusty desk sat in the far corner, a couch along the opposite wall. There was on overhead light, but it was so pale and weak that it hardly did anything. In the far corner, up in the wall across from the desk was a blob, attached to the dirty ceiling.
It was huge, spreading out over the ceiling and down along some of the adjacent walls. It had a clear green look to it, and seemed to be breathing, shuddering and shifting along the walls. One thing Harold noticed right off the bat where the tentacles. They ranged from different shapes and sizes, thickness and color, ranging from yellow to dark green. If the creature had eye’s, they couldn’t tell, the darkness covering much of in unexposed upper body.
Harold just stared at it, Reese moved to stand, and apparently that was frowned upon. Because as soon as he was extended to full height a thin, blue tentacle lashed out and wrapped around his wrists, binding them together and locking them behind his back. Reese didn’t even had time to blink before he was tossed onto the couch, his harsh landing causing dust to fly into the poorly lit room. Harold gasped and moved to stand, the creature using the same blue lasso around his two hands, but securing them over his head. He felt himself being dragged back until his back nudged the end of the desk, the sat bound, staring face to face.
Reese kicked around and cursed out foul threats, Harold spent two minutes just examining the beast holding them captive. He began to feel very nervous as a light yellow tentacle swiftly wound down, resting on his shoulder. Finch stiffened and closed his eyes, expecting the creature to behead him right then and there. It did just the opposite, gently massaging his sore neck and heating up against his skin, he shifted away from it, at first. But over time he slowly relaxed, his hands held lax above his head, neck tilting to the side as the tentacle moved lower, skimming his clothed shoulder blades.
John watched, captivated. Harold seemed so at ease, breathing coming out slow and deep, blue eyes closed, he watched with peaking curiosity as a another yellow tentacle slithered toward the older man’s chest, hovering over the buttons along his waistcoat, before easing them off. It was amazing, how the tentacle could manipulate itself and bend to pull the buttons our out of their designated hole. Soon the tentacle picked up the coat, and folded it neatly over the edge of the desk, Reese raised a brow. The tentacle along Finch’s neck moved lower, and began loosening his tie, pulling the purple material and then tossing it beside the waistcoat, then directing its attention to the shirts buttons. His vest was disposed of, set beside his coat, his shirt left hanging open, the yellow tentacles veered off and swiveled back up toward the ceiling.
Finch was shifting more alarmed against the blue lasso, trying to pull his hands back with no avail. He was more concerned now, being uncovered with such ease and quickness, it made him nervous, made him feel slow and weaker. Reese locked his gaze with his, holding it for a few seconds, Finch nodded in understanding and sat still. They both figured if the creature was calm now, they’d hate to see it get angry.
A light pink tentacle wove its way down, landing along Finch’s shoulder, making the man jump in alarm. It was more circular in shape, its tip rounded, but its whole body looked glassy. When it slides over his exposed neck, and down onto his chest, it felt slippery, wet even. Harold kept his breathing even, looking down to stare at the pink tentacle, watching as it felt around, nearly blindly. When it brushed over a nipple, his breath caught, eyes closing in a desperate plea, hoping the tentacle didn’t notice that. It did.
At first the tentacle teased the pink nub, circling it, then pressing down, making Finch shift and try to arch away from the grip. Growing bolder, it wound itself around the nub, flicking it to side to side, back and forth, up and down; Finch slowly broke, his breathing becoming more of a pant. Once the first nipple was good and wet, the pink tentacle moved its way toward the second, stimulating it with the same treatment. Finch rose to his tip-toes, shaking his head as he struggled against the bonds.
“J-John…” He mumbled up, eyes closed as he looked down in shame, blushing. Reese could only watch helplessly, more blue lasso’s had woven around his ankles and held them apart, in place. He couldn’t move his hands either, still bound behind his back. He tried to stand, to move around, but you’d be surprised how limited your movements were when the hands and legs were taken out of the equation.
Soon another tentacle, same pink and slimy, joined the first, both nubs being teased at once, Harold had to bite his lip. His body was betraying his mind, he was only used to Reese’s warm hand’s over him, not a cold wet feeling. It felt absolutely amazing. He curled his toes restlessly against the insides of his shoes; he didn’t notice as another yellow tentacle spiraled down and landed on his stomach. He jumped against the warm feeling, his breath catching again as it kneaded his flesh, slowly moving up. He grunted and struggled again, shaking his head, this wasn’t right. This can’t be happening. Monsters don’t exist. None that sexually bother you, which he’d heard about.
All those thoughts vanished as his belt was clicked, undone as it loosened his slacks. Harold didn’t even realize that yellow tentacle had retreated south, and unclasped his belt, his breathing became harsher. The yellow began to manipulate itself, unbuttoning the silver button on the brown slacks, popping it open and then sliding the zipper down. His pants fluttered down to pool along his legs, exposing black, silken boxers. His length already was hardening from all the stimulation being forced upon him. Finch blushed and shifted against the bonds, watching as two more lasso’s whipped around his ankles, gasping as they pulled them apart. Not enough to hurt, but defiantly enough room to keep him open and unguarded.
Reese went to protest, but felt his own problem. Different yellow tentacles had begun massaging his shoulders, neck and back, easing the tense away, replacing it with a feeling of relaxation. He gritted his teeth and fought back against them, slamming back into the couch, they retreated quickly. Reese smirked at the small victory, but his jaw opened at the sight of an angry red tentacle, curved and sharp, flew toward him. It stopped just next to his nose, and the blob at the ceiling shimmered, it’s laughing at us?! John glared and watched as the red tentacle suddenly moved, his shirt and jacket falling limply at his sides, the button’s clattering to the ground. He stared up defiantly at the blob; grey-blue eyes were brewing with a storm. The blob seemed to shrug, and focus its attention back to the nearly nude Finch.
The red tentacle wove its way over, moving in tight, controlled circular movements, stopping to rest against Finch’s scared right hip. He tensed up, feeling the cooler red blade press into his side, not in a painful way, just enough to remind him who had the control. Slowly the blade slide over his boxers, barely touching his aching length, makes the recluse gasp in awareness. Then it pressed against his scared hip again, drawing the tip down before harshly cutting away the fabric of his boxers, letting them fall to the floor. A red, angry, thin mark adorned his pale hip and thigh. Finch was blushing again, sure, he’d been naked in front of John before, but that was different. They both weren’t bound and held against their will by a weird, creepy blob, playing the puppet master to its army of tools.
Reese stared at Harold, to him; the man was amazing in every way, of work of art- bot mentally, physically, emotionally, and so on. He could stare at Finch for hours, but Harold wouldn’t let him, always saying. ‘Work first, John.’
Harold made a little keening sound, the cool air hitting his erect cock was uncomfortable, but it tickled all the right nerves. He bucked his hips uncontrollably when the red tentacle made a point of gently dragging across his exposed flesh before sliding away, back toward the blob on the ceiling. The yellow feelers soon slide up and under his shirt, still hanging off his shoulders, to fondle his back, before slipping even lower to play with his plump cheeks. Finch moaned in helpless abandon, he felt too weak at that moment, but the more adventurous of the tentacles slide between his pale globes. He stiffened as the warmth slide over his entrance, biting back a groan.
“J-John… help…” He begged with a mumble, trying to get away from the tentacles, he felt scared, this wasn’t right! Reese had tried harder to break free, Harold’s voice – the sheer hopelessness of it all kept him going. He jerked and cursed the blob, flexed his muscles in an attempt to break the tight lasso’s, only resulting in his chest rising and falling rapidly, his exposed flesh covered in a thin layer of sweat. The blob sent down a new, purple tentacle, it slowly crept its way along, landing against Reese’s thigh. It looked like it was melting, only to reveal a new darker layer underneath, the older blobs of liquid falling to the floor to splash against his black shoes. He shifted uneasily as it slowly inched its way up toward his crotch, making his pants wet with its dripping substance. Reese scowled down at it, trying to lean down and bite it, his back wouldn’t quite cooperate.
Reese could only watch with growing frustration as the strange tentacle easily sucked his button off his slacks, not bothering with the belt, it simply slide its body though it and Reese gasped at the cold sensation along his naval. A yellow tentacle had, at some point, begun to pull down his slacks, at least to his bent knees. John wiggled about on the couch, half of his mind wanting the tentacle to engulf his awakening length, the other half screaming to get that thing off of him this instant.
The tentacle was clearly in charge, it teased Reese’s sac, over his naval again, and then slide over his shaft, John found himself bucking needily against the cooler tentacle. Which soon granted his silent pleas, by teasing his shiny red tip, letting its warmer dripping substance coat and slide over Reese’s dick. John groaned happily, arching into the touch, the tentacle sucked. Restlessly, feverishly, John was easily distracted, the cold, sucking pressure slowly engulfed his thick length. Applying pressure and contracting around his base at just the right times, vibrating just like Harold’s mouth would, but it was a cool sensation. And it drove Reese wild.
Meanwhile, Finch was preoccupied with a new tentacle. It was just as Reese’s invader, only blue, and more warm than cold. It was unique, Harold gasped when he felt hit against his lower back. Its whole was warm, but the fluid dripping off it was surprising cold, his sensitive tail bone ate up the feelings. The two yellow ones retreated once more, being replaced by an identical twin to John’s sucker; it teased Finch more, however. Almost like it was waiting for the right time…
The blue one slide lower, until it was kneading Finch’s ass, the older man clenched and relaxed at the feeling, letting his arms fall slack and the lasso hold him up. The odd feeler quested further, until it easily located Harold’s entrance, pushing against it little by little, testing the water, until it had Finch moaning under every movement. The stimulation on both his anus and cock was too much, he already felt light headed. The blue tentacle chose that moment to push, only a little bit in, but its girth was so different than Reese’s member and or fingers, it had Finch clenching at the fist, little intrusion. The second one was harsher; it welled up and shoved itself in, the purple one choosing that moment to swallow his cock in one fluid motion, like a well-trained whore.
Finch made a strangulated cry, a cross between pain and pleasure. His head tossed back, mouth ajar, chest heaving with each harsh gasp. Reese was torn enough by the sound to look up at Finch, his eyes held concern. He was greeted with the sight of a blue, gel like substance dipping down from in between Finch’s spread legs, it was mixing along with the purple gel from the tentacle lavishing both their cocks. Finch looked panicked, but pleasured, his eyes closed, glasses nearly falling off, Reese made a confused look when a yellow tentacle pushed up the frames before they made the plunge. But the change in pace around his cock made him shudder with approaching orgasm, he grunted when a thinner blue lasso flicked around the base of his cock, serving as a ring. The purple tentacle devouring his length all but purred, Reese groaned and clenched his hands together, bucking up.
Harold was able to comprehend that the tentacle seemed to be taking pity on him, it wasn’t moving until the initial shock had worn off. He glanced up at the blob with a pitiful excuse for gratefulness. The blob seemed to hum itself, casing both men to moan at that exact moment. Then Finch felt the length inside him begin to rock back and forth, earning struggled gasps and embarrassed moans from the man it was ravaging. Harold had almost forgotten the pink tentacles, but a harsh tug on both his nipples made him both cringe and moan, arching his back. Surrendering to all the sensations, his head lolled back, eyes partially open as his pinned arms, still held overhead, and cradled his head. The length seemed to speed up, the mixed feeling of both cold and hot inside him made him dizzy with pleasure, he felt as though he was drowning in it. His toes curled, moans from both the captured men filled the otherwise silent room, the blob seemed to enjoying itself as well, and it was shaking and purring around and inside them.
The lassoes around their hands loosened, only enough for them to wiggle about and clench at whatever they could. Finch found himself gyrating against the thick length impaling him, he groaned and screamed helplessly when his prostate was thoroughly abused. Reese whined and moaned in wanton, the lasso around his cock keeping from cumming and jumping euphoric haze. Finally, the blob strove for gold, and won first place hands down.
Back arched, all muscles tensed, Harold came all over inside the purple blob, which seemed to suck up the fluid greedily. The blue one inside him swelled and erupted into Finch, releasing a green fluid which filled the already stuffed man to the brim, too much excess dripping to the floor. Joining a mixed puddle of purple and blue. He had screamed Mr. Reese’s first name to all the gods of any religion.
John had also been granted release; he mimicked Harold in body posture, his head tossed back, mouth wide open as he ejaculated into the willing tentacle below. He felt lightheaded, his whole body was covered in sweat, much like Harold’s, and he slumped back against the cough whilst Finch collapsed back against the desk. The lassos that had bound them released, their hands laid lazily at their sides, vision lapsing into darkness.
Harold and John were awoken by Bear, sniffing at them. They were laid back in their bed, both fully dressed in what they wore yesterday, not wearing sleep clothes. Harold moaned in his post-sleep haze, swatting at the dog, who was persistent. He barked louder and finally rouse Reese from his slumber. They both eventually, lazily got up, feeling a bit off.
They both had the strangest dreams.
But with the soreness Harold was feeling, as well as several bruised marks around Reese’s wrist, he was beginning to wonder. But they both were clean, no evidence of the dream besides those two accounts. They showered together, racking their minds and huffing in frustration when they came up with nothing.
Sometimes they would both sit there, lent against his desk and stare toward the empty wall. The empty corridor was no longer there, Bear seemed fine, no growling or barking.
Both wore the same confused expression, and would mentally kick themselves and go back to work.
One day, they were making out on his desk, Reese standing between Finch’s spread thighs and devouring the little man’s mouth, hands possessively against his hips. Harold found himself glancing over Reese’s shoulder and thinking.
‘Maybe it wasn’t a dream… That corridor is back.’