Irie squirmed while the thick tentacle snaked its way up her leg. Her arms, held behind her back by thin tendrils tightly wrapped around her wrists, strained against their bounds. She had been positioned a few ways, suspended by her arms, flat on her back, before she was put down on her knees. The slender but strong tendrils that seemed to do most of the lifting pulled on her arms, arching her back so that her chest stuck out. Her nipples, exposed to a breeze - some part of her overwhelmed mind wondered where the breeze could come from in this humid cave - stood stiff and hard, tickled by the beads of sweat running down her naked form. More tendrils began wrapping themselves around her torso, taking some pressure off her shoulders but also roping around her smallish, full breasts and massaging them ever so slightly. Two thicker tentacles held her up by her hips, pulsing against the exposed hip bones and flicking their feathery tips across her belly.
Overall, she thought somewhat detached, it was a rather comfortable position. In fact, she relished it when her lovers took her like this, hammering their dicks into her exposed, wet pussy from behind while their firm grips often left faint bruises on her hips. But this was no enjoyable encounter with a trusted friend or exciting stranger. This was scary, unnerving; an existential threat that would shake her to her core later, if she ever got out of it. She knew enough about the human mind to realise her detachment was her brain trying to protect her from the trauma that would surely engulf her whole being if she let it. Unfortunately, this detachment also let her analyse her physical reactions to the whole scenario. And those were, to say the least, utter betrayal. Surely, her mind could distinguish between sex she wanted and this. A few hours ago, it wouldn't even have been a question worth asking.
But now... the skin on her chest was tingling where the slimy tendrils coiled around her tits. Her lower belly sent shockwaves through her entire body, in time with the pulsing of the thicker appendages secured there. Her nipples, aching from their stiffness, sparked little shivers every time the breeze breathed over them. And every centimetre the bulkiest of tentacles advanced on her limb had her hitching her breath, writhing in her constraints and straining to get away. To get away... The main tentacle curved around the back of her knee. Irie let out the tiniest of squeak while her leg twitched. She was trying to get away. She was. Right?
The girl was breathing heavily now, nearly panting, trying to keep her detachment while her pussy spasmed a little from being exposed. Or from being ignored? No, out of fear. Yes, out of fear! Her body was trying to survive, trying not to get hurt by what was clearly going to be a drawn out fucking. There was no, there could be no, part of her that was hoping for this, hoping to enjoy a ravaging like she could have only imagined in her wildest fantasies. Irie growled when the coils around her breasts loosened and blood rushed back. The tingling increased, threatening to wipe any thought from her mind. It was dangerously close to pleasure, this torture.
The big tentacle around her leg was looping itself around her thigh, and starting to ooze from what must have been its pores. Her skin, already slick with sweat from the humidity and stress, was set aflame. Slowly, agonisingly, the tentacle reached the bottom of her exposed ass. Her pussy spasmed again, dribbling little strands of wetness along her outer lips. The breeze swooshed by, drying her juices and causing her to clench up and shiver. She felt empty. Felt like hours must have passed, while she was leisurely explored, bound up, fondled and molested by these tentacles. What did they belong to? There seemed to be more tentacles lurking at the edge of her vision.
Pressure on her thigh distracted her thoughts for a moment. She twisted her head to look over her shoulder, driven by mad curiosity and a sneaking desire to get this over with. How long could it possibly take?
Looking back was a mistake. The purplish tentacles around her hips were pulsating, little lights dancing across their surface. But what caught her out was the main tentacle, still wrapped around her leg yet now with a good half-metre or so swaying in the air. It twisted this way and that, coiled around itself, as if sniffing out its victim, waiting for something. For what? Time stretched endlessly. Her body, supposed to be numb from being in one position for so long, did not cease feeling all sorts of things. Her pussy, clearly preparing for an onslaught, trembled in time with the pulsating lights and feathery flicks around her belly. Finally, moments before her mind would have descended into panic, driven by endlessly erotic sensations she was determined not to acknowledge, the big tentacle quivered, becoming still.
Irie held her breath. Maybe she could yet get out of this, maybe she could - squelching sounds cut off her thoughts. She strained to twist her neck, glimpse the source of the sounds, but two more tendrils shot out from the dark, from the direction of the sound. One wrapped itself around her head, turning it to the front. The other flattened on its way and, to her complete dismay, found its way around her neck. Luckily, it didn't constrict much, just enough to let her know it was there. However, when she tried to turn her head once more, the flat tendril tightened until she gave up. She wasn't stupid. She got the message. She had no say in how this would go. She also tacitly ignored the slight gushing from her pussy at being choked.
Irie had always wondered if her submissive streak, her rape fantasies, would ever have an effect on her real life. She realised now that they could turn this situation into a nightmare. Or... they might be her saving grace. If she had no way out, could she get the most out of it? Her mind grappled with this dilemma for a bit - years of society-imbued shame and victim-blaming battling against her darkest desires, aided by a basic fear for her life.
But it seemed the decision would not be up to her, after all. The ground trembled as the source of the squelching finally came into her field of vision, one writhing, coiling, twisting, agitated tentacle at a time. A massive, giant blob of silvery-purple, glistening with slime and pulsating with those odd little lights, surrounded by a mass of appendages that were the diameter of a small tree at the base and ended in a variety of extremities.
Some were thin and feathery, like the ones tormenting her abdomen. Some were spiny and coiled, some thin and wiry - like those around her breasts - and many were solid and thick with tiny little flowerlike openings at the ends that continued the pulsating, trancelike rhythm of the lights. Even if Irie could have turned her head, she wouldn't have. She'd never seen something so revoltingly fascinating in her whole life. The creature came to a standstill right in front of her, some two or three metres away. Two of the solid tentacles made their way to Irie's trembling body and she realised that this must be what was currently quivering behind her, unhurriedly waiting for whatever was about to happen.
She wasn't sure how she felt about three of those things so close to her. One had joined the first, curling around her other thigh and now rubbing itself against the first, which showered her behind in tiny specks of slime, each one alighting her skin with tingling heat. The third hovered just under her torso. With a big sigh, the creature stopped pulsating for a moment. The tentacles and tendrils stilled against Irie's skin, which surely must have been blistering from the slime oozing from their slightly rough surfaces, it felt so hot, so electric, so...
"Uurghh!"
Irie's frustration broke in a guttural scream. Her eyes wild, she fought against the tentacles binding her.
"Finish it!" she shouted. "Take me now, you beast! Get it over with, I can't take it anymore!! I can't, I won't, this can't be happening, it can't, I can't ... please ..."
She ended, sobbing, a lonely string of spit descending from the corner of her mouth while tears filled her eyes. There was no reaction from the blob. The tentacles hadn't loosened, hadn't stopped moving, kept her head secured and facing her molester without mercy.
