Under the cover of darkness, late at night, a silent form crept through the library. Their tiptoeing steps were covered by the heavy patter of rain against the large windows. They kept to the shadows. Each flash of lightning in the sky pushed them back into the great rows of books that filled the dark space.
It was Orion, a student of Bertaux's School of Advanced Magic, which the library was a part of. He was in his third year, freshly twenty-two years old at the start of the Summer session.
He crept by the last of the large windows, eyes shifting around to look for the wandering orbs that patrolled the far end as he hid behind a bookshelf. Just beyond the open space past the shelf was the door- his target. He had a cloak draped 'round his shoulders, deep blue cloth obscuring him in the black of the library's halls. Underneath, his bare skin shivered, covered only by a light tunic and a pair of blue panties.
The coast was clear.
Orion dashed across the wood floor, bounding on his toes for only a few steps before he reached the door. The magical lock clicked as it registered his wand's magic. He had been shown this trick by a third year the autumn previous, and they had gotten up to much fun. The boy slid in a crack in the door and shut it softly behind him. The lock clicked back into place.
He grinned as he saw the interior, a small room with shelves along three of its walls, broken only by the door and a dim window on the far end.
Lightning flashed again, lighting up the space for an instant, and rumbling thunder rolled over it. Perfect. No one would be able to hear him over the sound of the summer storm raging outside. Anyone who wasn't up celebrating the end of their mid-session tests had already gone to bed.
He dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and bared himself. Orion's wandtip lit with a whisper of "Light." A soft blue glow illuminated the room. He stepped forward and began to trail his eyes over the shelves, scanning the books.
The names on the spines were written in curling, old text. Some were so ancient as to have lost the shine to their lettering. Not Orion's though.
He pulled a relatively new-looking text out of the rows. Its leather-bound body still cracked with age as he spread the book open and kneeled upon the floor, but the paper was not so fragile under his fingers. He flipped carefully through the pages until the faded words became recognizable. Then, he found the spell.
"There you are," he murmured as he stroked down the page. Excitement and desire streaked through his belly. He pulled his tunic off and let it fall to the side, and his skin shivered as cool air swept in.
He had tried this spell only once before, but it had been much smaller. Now, with the rainstorm to cover him and the library's privacy, he intended to make good use of its potential. Orion glanced over the incantation and the words came to his lips.
"Ondas cebrand, mar agitas abri erevlar os tentaclos de Dramithar," Orion chanted softly. He held his wand in front of him, pointing toward the floor. He let magic flow freely into the wand from his body. The sucking, sapping of energy from himself always felt like a relief to him. Now, he sighed and let that feeling fuel his arousal.
A small circle appeared on the floor, bright blue around a roiling center. He chanted the incantation three more times, and with each repeat, the circle grew bigger. It slowly widened until it was nearly a meter from end to end. The smell of salt and sharp wind filled his nose.
He fell silent and watched the first tips peak through the portal. Slowly they reached upward, wet and curling as they sought through the air. Orion bit his lip as the summoned tentacles grew in size. When they found nothing but cold air above, they began to spread out to the sides. Eight of the stony grey tentacles curled over each other, squeezing slime off of their slick surfaces. Each was nearly as long as he was tall, and as thick around as a pokto ball at their bases; their twisting ends nearly as thin as his pinky finger.
Orion shuffled forward on his knees and commanded the tentacles.
"Pick me up, undress me."
Instantly the tentacles snapped to attention. They began to writhe toward him as easily as if they could see him. Two curled under him. Their strength was impressive despite their size, and Orion could feel the dense muscle underneath their cold skin. One of the free tentacles began to feel over his body.
He shivered and stretched under its smooth touch. His body was cushioned by the two dutifully holding him aloft, their own tips clinging to his shoulders. He let the more explorative one tease at his stiff nipples and stroke over his belly, moving downward until it met the resistance of his panties. As if in anger, the tendril burrowed under the light fabric, and began tugging. Two more joined it at his hips. His pubes were coated in a fine layer of slime now and his underwear was halfway down his thighs. They caught around his knees and were suddenly torn into three pieces.
"Oh yes," he said, leaning into the touch. "Come between my legs and touch me gently." His cheeks burned a bit, embarrassment clinging to his skin, but it was worth the faint awkwardness to feel a tentacle obey his orders and fill the space that his panties once covered.
His pussy was wet and his dick erect, two inches of hard flesh poking up past his pubic hair. He was made all the wetter by the tentacle stroking between his lips.
When it traced the underside of his little dick, he gasped and lurched forward. His hips rolled in irritation, chasing the sensation as the tentacle drew back an inch.
"No, that's good," he murmured, "keep going."
It slowly returned and settled in a lazy coil around his length. The broader body of the tentacle pressed up against his hole, spreading his lips to rub against him. Its thin tip began to squeeze and shift over him, and he moaned.
"Fuck, yes," he hissed.
The tentacles kept touching him, riling him up at a steady pace. A hot coal of arousal burned in his core, and he could feel the deep need inside him-- the desire for one of those tentacles to enter him, feel his slick pussy, and explore the depths of him.
He let his eyes drift shut as pleasure overtook his thoughts. He would enjoy the stroking a little longer before he got to the good part. He had all night to play with this spell.
With each squeeze, the tentacle's tight muscle pressed tight to him, teasing his entrance with obvious intent. He ground against its mass, sighing and panting. His hole dripped with his own slick already, which joined the constant threads of sticky slime falling onto the floor. He would have to clean the mess up afterward, but that trouble was worth it.
His breath caught as another squeeze brought him surprisingly close to the edge, and he gasped. His hips drove forward of his own accord, but he was able to stave off the pressing need long enough to pull back and away from the touch.
