World War T is a series of independent, vaguely interconnected stories about different tentacle monsters invading Earth, very much an erotic homage to World War Z. These very short stories do not need to be read sequentially.
Thanks to Tara Cox (organizer) and Rachel Sprite (muse) for their encouragement to participate in the
Survival Revival Challenge
- a thousand published words daily through the duration. Stay safe and sane everyone!
*
There were boundaries to my autonomy.
He kept me safe, secluded as much as possible, sheltered from the rest of his kind. I remembered seeing dozens of other naked girls drawn into a vortex around this giant gelatinous monster, a mushroomed shaped behemoth that inserted electric eels inside each of its victims, plugging them into a continuous channel of pleasure.
He had taken me, like many of the other creatures. But the alien had retreated, breaking with his telepathic brothers to save me from the end planned for me.
Or did he just save me for himself?
I know how I feel when he fucks me, cocks driving in and out of each hole so perfectly, my mind unable to do anything other than accept the mind-erasing pleasure. That's what it would have been out there in the ocean. Countless climaxes until everything else disappeared, the mind nothing more than a dopamine soaked dick puppet.
Poor Ruby...
I thought of my roommate everyday, remembering how I watched stupefied as she began convulsing from the twin tentacles spraying cum and electricity inside of her.
I came so close. I would have belonged to the massive jellyfish in the middle of the Carribean, the abdominidable monster using me and a thousand others as sexual conductors for its growing power. Still, I don't know if that makes the truth any less terrifying.
Tattoo saved me for himself...
And he was growing...
Always changing, mutating, shedding and adapting to something more severe.
Yet, no matter his appearance, I could always sense him. He shaped me so subtly, leaving my will intact.
But something more seeped into my soul.
I seemed... better...
I knew what he wanted me to do instinctively, just as I knew enough of what was going on to stay scared. I can't explain it better than to say some thoughts and some things didn't seem to originate from me.
The thing that worried me the most was my own mind. Did I really want Tattoo? Or did he have enough hold to keep me his, even splintered from whatever that thing was...
Could I even be safe without him?
Because that thing was out there! Fuck it had my best friend, I have to tell-
My thoughts changed, replaced with the image of a rattled extraterrestrial beehive. Millions of monsters competing for bodies, fucking and controlling humans as hosts.