Mara was crying. She was somewhere - an office, from the look the leather couch and dark wood desk - and her cheeks were running with tears as she hiccupped and sputtered out a confession. As cute as she normally was, she looked like crap when she cried. She glanced up, and I could see she was speaking with a man in a suit, but I could not see his face - it seemed to be covered in shadow.
"I see." The man's voice was low and resonant, almost hypnotic. "You understand, that sort of behavior is not acceptable on this campus. We expect our students to be in control of their sexual urges. I'm going to have to punish you, Ms. Saratov. Please stand up and remove your pants."
Mara blinked in shock, and I could feel her mind trying to process what had been said. She stood up, legs shaking, and backed towards the door.
"That won't do."
There was an impact of some kind, and Mara fell to the ground. Her body twitched, unable to move. I could see polished brown leather shoes on the floor next to her head, and then, from the shadowed figure of the man, hands came down to rip at her black t-shirt, pulling aside the torn cotton to reveal the dark blue cups of a bra underneath. No, not hands - there were more than two, and no fingers - these were like the tentacles of some giant octopus.
Additional tentacles reached down, some surprisingly delicate, others thick as a man's arm, strong, and wrapped around her, slithering under her bra to her breasts. Mara's body jerked and tossed, unable to move purposefully, but as her left breast slipped from the cup of her bra, I could see one cherry-pink nipple harden under the caress of a tentacle. Further tentacles curled around her waist, stroking her belly, and up the ankle cuffs of her jeans, throbbing between the fabric and her calves. Spasmodically, her hips thrust upward.
As the tentacles continued to move, they pulled and ripped at the remainder of her clothing, removing shoes, socks, and bra. Her shirt was already in tatters, and once the large tentacles had forced their way up to her lower thighs, they flexed, tearing her jeans with tremendous force. She screamed, and then the tentacles descended on her hips, groin and waist, ripping away the last of the denim fabric and leaving only a pair of white cotton panties; there was a dark stain where the panties had been pulled taught to her labia, and the fabric clearly outlined her mound and lips.
For a split second, Mara seemed to regain control of herself, and opened her mouth to scream again. The instant her lips opened, however, a large tentacle thrust itself into her mouth, looking like nothing more than a gigantic, obscene cock. She choked and gagged, tears welling in her eyes. For some reason, the sight of the lithe blonde being violated in this way was incredibly arousing.
"Fuck me," the hypnotic voice commanded, but Mara's hands clawed and beat against the remaining tentacles, her nails digging into the rubbery flesh. Her legs kicked as she tried to crawl away, but she was caught in those overpowering limbs.
"Very well," the voice drawled with a slight bit of impatience, and then the tentacles slipped down her belly, under the fabric, and ripped her panties into two pieces. The panties hung around her thighs, one half on each leg, as the girl I had fucked just hours before was once again exposed to my sight. I could smell her arousal - whether it was the dream or just the memory, I didn't know, but I wanted to see her vagina pried open again. The tentacles slithered down and began to stroke her lips, rustling through her pubic hair; finally, one, quite large, slithered into her.
There was a sound - not a scream, quite, with her mouth filled by that tentacle - but a muffled, panicked sound as the thick, veined tentacle slid deeper and deeper into her vagina. I could see her vaginal lips spreading obscenely, straining, and then tearing slightly, with small stains of blood appearing on the tentacle as it began to move in and out. What was even more obscene, however, was how the tentacles lifted her into the air, binding her arms and spreading her legs wide. The unseen man gasped, and I could hear his heavy breathing.
"I said," he repeated, "Fuck me."
And with that, Mara seemed to lose all restraint, to feel no pain, returning to that wild girl I had melted into briefly on the grass. Her hands reached up to stroke whatever tentacles she could find, her cheeks dented in as she sucked the first tentacle deep into her throat, and she moaned like a cat in heat. I watched the muscles in her thighs and belly ripple as she undulated, trying to grind the tentacle which penetrated her in deeper and deeper.
"Yes," the man whispered, removing his tentacle from her sopping cunt. He dropped his pants, then pushed his cockhead easily into her loosened pussy. With a snarl, his hands spread the cheeks of her ass, and that gigantic, slick tentacle began to rub at the crinkled skin surrounding her anus.
Again, Mara rotated her hips sensuously, and the unseen man grunted, suddenly thrusting forward hard and fast. I knew that he must be coming inside her, just like I had. I remembered how good it had felt. At the same time, he speared her ass with his wet tentacle, and she jerked as she came with him. They thrust rabidly together for perhaps half a minute, until he finally pulled his penis from her and lowered her to the floor with his tentacles. She lay there, half curled into a fetal position, eyelids fluttering, with a small puddle of cum collecting under her cunt on the polished wood of the floor.
