The Watcher in the Water

"No good will come of this, I tell you," grumbled Fenrohir. He kicked at a stone near his feet and sent it sailing through the air and into the large, dark pool before him. With a muffled 'plop' it disappeared into the murky depths, showing little evidence of its passing on the surface of the pool.

"Stop that!" cried Enduriel, catching his arm and pulling him back sharply from the water's edge. "Do you forget the cautionary tales? Monsters lurk in the depths of this pool, and it is death to disturb them!"

Fenrohir shook her off, cursing halfheartedly in response. "Pay you still so much heed to those bedtime fairy tales? It is nothing but a murky old lake; it doesn't seem as even fish could survive long in it, let alone something of a more perilous nature."

Enduriel cast him a long, dark look before returning to her task. "If you don't believe those old tales, then why have you agreed to come along? Gandalf and his company passed this way long ago, and the songs still sing of the misfortune they met here even before passing through the secret gate into Moria."

"Lost a pony, is all," Fenrohir grumbled. "And what's more, old Bill made his way back to Rivendell unharmed, or so the stories say. Yet if those tales are true, then why do the doors lie unhindered by rock, as was said to have been thrust down across them? See there, even the holly trees which grew beside the door remain as they were planted many years ago."

Enduriel shook her head. "I do not know. It is all very odd to me; perhaps they have been replanted, and some magic has put the doors aright. All the same, it is of little concern to us. We must concentrate now on opening the doors, and for that, I need peace and quiet!"

Fenrohir, chastised into momentary silence, walked off apace to gaze out across the lake at the fading light of the setting sun. A cool breeze sent tiny ripples across the surface of the lake and sighed through the branches of the holly trees. He glanced back at Enduriel where she stood with head bent and hands against the stone wall, willing the words of entry to come to her.

"If she takes much longer to recall the old password, our adventure will be like to that of Gandalf's indeed: slow and tedious," Fenrohir grumbled softly to himself, so as not to incur his companion's wrath. Yet he himself quickly fell silent as he watched her. They had long been friends, but Fenrohir had always wished their relationship would encompass more than friendship.

Enduriel was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Long blond tresses hung to her waist; even now, tramping through wild country, it hung freely down her back, a few strands falling about her face, smooth and shining as ever. Her face was pale and smooth, her blue eyes bright, her full red lips alluring, even when the words that issued from them were harsh.

Of her body Fenrohir seldom allowed himself to think, for each time he grew more and more desirous to possess it. She was delicately built, thin and yet quite sturdy, certainly owed to the many days she had spent wandering about the countryside, following this trail or that, often with Fenrohir in tow. As she stood, bent forward slightly, leaning against the stone, he caught a glimpse of her body in the fading light. Her bosom looked terribly out of proportion upon her small frame, and below her arched back, a pair of firm, rounded buttocks beckoned to him, begging for his touch.

Fenrohir shook his head wilfully. Enduriel was a good friend of many years, no matter how pretty, and he must not think of her in the way that so many other men did. Now if only she could prove her worth and open that blasted door!

So enamored with his lovely companion was Fenrohir that he did not notice the beast until it had already caught him. It was indeed so stealthy that he likely would not have sensed its approach unless he had been looking directly at the water when it arose from the depths. As it was, Fenrohir found himself already bound and gagged by slimy tentacles before he could even think to cry out.

So it was that, though he struggled against the long arms of the creature, he could not break free to warn Enduriel. She remained bowed against the stone, unaware of the immediate danger looming behind her.

At the very last moment she looked to where Fenrohir hung suspended, and took in a sharp breath of surprise and terror, but by then it was too late. Several tentacles encircled her waist and drew her up into the air, not twenty feet from Fenrohir. She struggled uselessly against the muscled arms, which pinned the knife at her belt to her side and out of reach. One tentacle wrapped around both her slim wrists, pulling her arms behind her back.

"Fenrohir!" she cried, or tried to, as the moment her mouth opened, one of the slimy tentacles slid between her lips. Her eyes widened first in horror, then in disgust, as the foul arm reached into her throat. It pulled out just far enough to allow her to breathe, then plunged back in again. Though Enduriel tried to bite down on the slippery member, her teeth seemed to have no effect, and the onslaught continued unhindered.

Another tentacle reared up in front of her and darted suddenly down into the cleavage between her large breasts, rending the fabric which covered them. As her tunic was torn asunder, Fenrohir could not help but stare at the large orbs of pale white flesh that were revealed to him for the first time. Enduriel's beautiful tits bounced and swayed high on her chest with each movement of the tentacle which held her aloft. Although they were full and generous, they did not sag even a little. Tiny dark nipples, hardened by the sudden chill of the night air, gazed invitingly up at him.

He realized that Enduriel was staring at him, panicked. Fenrohir forced himself to look into her eyes, trying to reassure her without words (he too was still gagged, although not in so unpleasant a fashion) that everything would be okay. Yet even as he did so, another tentacle reared up out of the water and approached his half-naked companion. It wriggled its way up between her legs, which were kicking madly, and found the waistband of her skirt. It stretched the garment outward until at last the fabric of her skirt and the thin undergarments beneath gave way. The tattered remnants fluttered uselessly to the ground below.

Now the young woman was completely naked, even down to her delicate feet--she had removed her shoes earlier that afternoon in order to pass through a small yet unavoidable stream which had lain across their path. Now Fenrohir stared at her long naked legs, stil struggling wildly, but his gaze was drawn to the cleft between her taut thighs. If any hair grew there, it was either too pale or too fine to be seen from this distance. He doubted that Enduriel had ever taken a blade to that downy hair, as some of the whores back in Breeland were wont to do.

As Fenrohir continued to stare, he was rewarded from time to time with a flash of pale pink flesh between Enduriel's thighs. She seemed unaware of her sudden indecency, struggling wildly for freedom though it made visible her most private parts.

Only when a tentacle began prodding and searching between her thighs did Enduriel clamp them shut; yet her delicate legs were so thin that this did little to hinder the questing appendage. The tip slipped easily between her thighs and tickled the pink flesh of her womanhood; Fenrohir heard her moan in horror around the tentacle that was at present buried in her throat.

The slippery appendage did not waste time in searching, but forced its bulk between her thighs and opened them wide. Fenrohir was treated to a momentarily unobstructed view of Enduriel's pussy, her delicate lips spreading wide to reveal her sweet hole. Then the tentacle slid inside, its slimy surface compensating for the dryness of her pussy. Enduriel's hole stretched open reluctantly to allow the meaty appendage entrance, but the creature was insistent. It pushed its thick girth into her cunt, stretching it open as wide as a fist. At this point, it withdrew until only the tip was still buried inside, then forced its length back in.

As he watched, Fenrohir could no longer deny that despite Enduriel's agony and his concern for his close friend, he was considerably aroused. In fact, if he had allowed himself to dwell on the eroticism of the situation, he would have had to admit that he was becoming more and more turned on with each passing moment. For each thrust of a tentacle, either in her mouth or pussy, caused Enduriel's tits to bounce and shake. Her slim body revealed clearly the path of the alien tentacles as they penetrated her throat and her pelvis, both which bulged out obscenely around the long, fat appendages.

Suddenly the tentacle in her mouth pulled out completely. Enduriel gasped for breath, but when she tried to speak, she found her throat too damaged to speak. Instead she coughed and spat, trying to rid her mouth of the foul taste of the tentacle.

Thus she was distracted when the tentacle came round behind her and up between her legs to prod at her other hole. At this Enduriel gasped, although the sound came out more like a hoarse cough. She was suddenly tilted backwards and her legs spread even farther apart. This appeared to be done almost entirely for Fenrohir's enjoyment, for when the tentacle began slowly to penetrate Enduriel's tiny anus, he was given a clear, unobstructed view of it. He could see it clench tight and spasm under the intrusion, but it did little to halt the progress of the invader. As the tentacle in Enduriel's one-tight pussy continued its assault, the one in her ass slid slowly but steadily deeper into her virgin bowels.

Fenrohir could no longer even attempt to deny his arousal. To his embarrassment and shame, his cock had become rock hard and strained now against the front of his trousers. A wet spot had even formed where the tip leaked precum through the thick material. Fenrohir watched in horror as Enduriel's eyes dropped to his crotch and, seeing the unavoidable evidence of his arousal, burst once more into tears. It seemed to her the worst blow of all, worse than the violation of all three of her holes, to see her friend aroused by her degredation.

The beast which assaulted her seemed to sense this. A spare tentacle approached Fenrohir, hovering near his crotch. Abruptly it plunged down the front of his trousers and carefully crept down between his legs, then pulled outward, rending the front of his pants. Eight inches of hard, dripping cock sprang free, followed by two pendulous balls. Fenrohir stared down at his exposed cock in horror, watching as the tentacle wrapped itself around his shaft and began to stroke up and down its length. Although Fenrohir fought the sensation, he nevertheless found it immensely pleasurable--the tentacle was slippery and surprisingly warm, and the grip much tighter than any woman he had ever had.

As the monster stroked his cock, he chanced another peek at his companion. Enduriel had taken a good ten inches of thick, meaty tentacle up her ass, which was now pulling out and plowing back into her raw asshole over and over again. Neither her pussy nor her mouth was spared a similar assault; another tentacle had arisen from the depths of the lake to take the place of the first, and now all three assaulted her with an ever-quickening pace.

Two more tentacles reared up and began coiling themselves around Enduriel's breasts. The taut skin quickly grew slippery with slime; her dark nipples glimmered in the fading light. Fenrohir could not tear his eyes away from the generous flesh of her tits as it bulged out between the meaty tentacles, jiggling and bouncing as the beast played with them. Still the tentacle around his cock stroked faster, exuding a slippery, slimy substance that made the bizarre sensation all the most pleasurable.

Suddenly, Enduriel gave a muffled moan. It seemed all three tentacles had pushed deep, deep into her holes, and as Fenrohir watched, each began to pulse with wave after wave of cum, which it emptied into his lovely companion. What was pumped into her throat she swallowed as best she could--the rest ran out of the corners of her mouth and dribbled onto her breasts. Her bowels easily accomodated the massive load spewed into her ass, but her pelvis bulged out around her expanding womb. Green slime began to drip out around the pulsing tentacle and onto the sand below. Even her stomach seemed to expand in order to contain the great load that ran down her throat.

At last the beast seem satisfied. Setting its victim down none too carefully on the shore below, it withdrew all its tentacles except for the ones around her breasts. These it used to push Enduriel's tits together into great orbs, taut and slimy. Fenrohir found himself being lowered over Enduriel's chest, at which point the tentacle guided his cock into the tight, slippery cleavage between her tits.

Fenrohir watched with horror and increasing lust as the tentacles began to bounce Enduriel's tits up and down his shaft. The tentacle around his waist held him quite stationary: only the bulging, generous mounds of his friend's breasts masturbated his aching cock. Fenrohir groaned with pleasure. Enduriel's tits were so smooth and tight and slippery, her nipples so hard and tantalizing. When he looked up at her face, Fenrohir saw her eyes were wide open and staring at him in surprise. She looked so lovely, so...helpless...

Fenrohir let out a moan as ropes of hot cum shot out from his pulsing cock, decorating her lovely throat and chin; some even splashed across her parted lips. He shuddered with pleasure, forgetting all but the orgasm which wracked his body and the beautiful form which lay below him. Then suddenly the world darkened, and he for a time he knew no more.

---

When Fenrohir recovered his senses, he found the night had passed and the eastern sun was already casting its pale light among the uppermost branches of the trees across the water. The Water!

Fenrohir sat up in sudden fear, recalling all that had passed the night before. He found Enduriel lying on the shore beside him. At first he started, suddenly afraid she had not survived, but as he watched, her chest rose and fell steadily with the peaceful breathing of a contented slumberer. Sleeping there next to him, naked, she was still lovely to behold, though it pained him to remember the violence so recently done to her. Even now, her abused holes still leaked from time to time evidence of the beast's assault.

Reaching out, Fenrohir stroked her cheek, abruptly aware of his own cum which had dried there. She did not stir. He reached out and took hold of her hand; still, she did not awaken. She was so lovely, so peaceful, lying here like this...so helpless...