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The Tentacle Monster

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Waffle

_ _

“Oof! I'm so glad we finally made it!"

Waffle groaned, the otter-bear hybrid stretching out his arms above his head as he swayed lightly from the left to the right and back again. He hadn't expected to have to hike so far to get to the lake, though it was well worth it. Even though Waffle had hiked some when he'd been a few years younger, he'd fallen out of the habit when work had got busier for him.

Whereas Waffle really enjoyed it and looked forward to getting back into hiking and camping, Flint was more ambivalent to it. Where the wolf could take it or leave it, he enjoyed it still. It was nice, even then, to get away from the world. It had been hard for Waffle, conversely, to pin down exactly what he liked about hiking and camping, but sometimes a big, grand reason did not have to be had, regardless of what was going on. If the bear and the wolf were together, everything was okay with his little corner of the world.

“Glad you like it," Flint said with a lazy smile, the grey wolf working at setting up their tent already, for he didn't want to waste too much time at the tail end of the day. “Apparently, this is a great spot, but it's hard to get up here in the wet season. Trails are too slick to bring much gear up. You wouldn't believe just how many accidents happen out here, though we won't be one of them, don't worry."

Waffle shuddered, chuckling a little without mirth.

“Yeah… Yeah, I wouldn't want anything bad to ever happen to you, Flint. Or to me either, for that matter, hah. I hope this isn't too rough of an area for our first trip out here."

“Nah, it'll all be fine. I checked it out online, wanted to be sure we'd be safe here, don't worry."

The wolf paused, pulling the otter-bear into a hug. Waffle gave a soft grunt of surprise, though he only paused for a fraction of a second before leaning into the embrace, the wolf's broad chest comforting. Waffle had not even known he needed that, though just a hug from the wolf eased the tension in his body. Maybe later he could get Flint to help massage away some of the soreness from his muscles.

The lake truly was beautiful, cast in an eerie purple-blue glow in the twilight of the day. They were quickly losing daylight, which was just why Flint wanted to get the tent set up for the night as soon as possible, though they hadn't expected it to be a cloudier day.

Up in the mountains, the weather could change in an instant, however, which was something they had to be aware of. Pine trees bordered the lake, though half of the mountainous area was left open and rugged, with the mountains rising to cut off the sky. Maybe that was why the day seemed to be ending more quickly there with the shadows of the mountains, which had stood there for far longer than either the two anthros had – and would for many, many times more.

It was what Waffle needed also, as the two of them sorted the campsite for the night. Waffle scurried off to collect firewood, though there seemed to be an awful lot of driftwood washed up on the shoreline. With a pebbled beach, the otter-bear scuttled over it, some of the footing shifting underneath him, though the otter-bear took the chance to go barefoot while out there. It felt a little more natural to him, allowing him to flex and shift his hind paws more comfortably than he could in the shoes he usually had to wear.

A ripple on the water caught Waffle's attention and he paused, squinting as he looked out over the water. He didn't have as good night vision as his ancestors – and even if he had, twilight and dawn were often the worst times for creatures that could see in the night or the day. It muddied the edges of things, blurring outlines and distorting colours where they needed to be clear.

“Hello?" He said, raising his voice but feeling a little silly as a splash echoed across the water. “Is anyone there? Flint?"

The wolf, however, was some distance away, back at their campsite. Maybe the otter-bear had heard a beaver instead? Something like that? He didn't honestly remember what local wildlife was in that area, for it was more Flint's stomping ground than Waffle's.

He shrugged it off, though the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, hackles straining to rise slightly with a hunch of his shoulders. A sense of being watched followed him as he glanced back, though didn't catch something cool and slick wafting above the surface of the water – before retreating.

They ate dinner together over a merrily crackling campfire, though Waffle still felt a bit uneasy about the lake. As they ate, his gaze kept going back to it, even as darkness fell, leaving them seated in a pool of light while the stars and moon came out to populate the night sky so high above. He cast his gaze up and tried to let some of the tension ease from his shoulders, though it didn't seem possible until Flint reached over to sympathetically rub his upper back. Why did he feel so exposed out there? That was out of the norm for him.

“Come on, hon," he said, his deeper voice softer than usual. “I didn't mean to worry you. There's nothing out here that can hurt you, no. You've got me, we're going to be safe, not like those idiot tourists who get stuck doing things they shouldn't. And you're not one of them either. Heck, you've done this more than I have."

Flint smiled and stood, setting their leftover metal dinner plates aside and offering Waffle his hand.

“Come on," he said. “We'll take a lantern and go for a walk before relaxing for the night. I brought some games for us, we can have an early night or stay up, whatever you want."

That sounded good to Waffle and he appreciated greatly his partner taking the time to reassure him. It was all rather a little silly to feel on edge out there, especially when there was only the two of them there. There weren't even any real bears supposed to be in the area! So, he really was as safe as he could be there.

Paw in paw, they walked around the edge of the lake, listening to the lap of the water on the shore, though it seemed especially still that night. Waffle relaxed a little more, dressed in only a pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt, the summer air tickling his fur. Yet even the wind had dropped, the needles on the pine trees barely rustling, though he thought there were some other species of trees up there too when it came to the evergreen ones. That was another little area in which Waffle was not quite as well-versed as he may have liked to be, considering he was out in nature.

But it was of no matter, even as something slid by under the surface of the lake. In the dark, the shadow it made went unnoticed as Waffle and Flint laughed lightly, the light from the lantern bobbing in a pool around them, which moved as they walked.

The shadow lurked closer, slithering up to the edge of the shore. A twisting, dark tentacle, with a smooth end as if it was formed of plant matter, quested forth, water streaming from it, though it moved so slowly there was barely a noise at all. It turned its “head" back and forth as if taking in the scene, though there was really no time for its victims to make good any kind of retreat.

Waffle tensed, standing straight, his neck stiff.

“What was that?"

The otter-bear flinched, half-turning and stumbling back with his fingers tight around Flint's wrist. Even as the wolf tried to tell him there was nothing there, that there was nothing to be afraid of, the water erupted in a spray, showering them with tiny droplets as long, lashing tentacles shot into the pool of lantern light.

The tentacles cast eerie, stark shadows across the light, though Flint dropped the lantern, lunging for Waffle as the otter-bear's hand was ripped from him. Cold chilled him to his core as he watched, moving in slow-motion as if he had been suddenly rendered helpless, the love of his life ripped from him with one paw still outstretched.

Yet the wolf was not allowed to chase after him as the otter-bear was dangled upside-down, dark black-green tentacles crawling all over him, wrapping him up and twisting under his clothes. They dug into his fur, wetting it down so it stuck slickly to him, though the otter-bear wheezed. Even then, Waffle didn't have enough breath in his lungs to really scream.

“Waffle! Look at me! I'm going to get you down from there!"

Flint called up, darting back and forth along the edge of the water as if he was going to leap into it to retrieve his partner, yet the tentacle monster anticipated his every move. For that was all Flint could attribute the strangely sentient mass of twisting, writing tentacles to, the tips smooth with a pucker right at the head that boded ill for them both.

The beast was too swift for the wolf, however, blocking his path with tentacles every time he tried to charge into the water. In the end, all Flint could be was an unfortunate, helpless bystander to Waffle's taking, even if the otter-bear was not in true danger.

That didn't mean Waffle wanted it, the tentacle lashed around his chest releasing a little so he could breathe easier, turned the right way up and tipped backwards. The tentacles wasted no time at all in writhing under his clothes to rip straight through his shirt and shorts, tearing them as if they had as much substance to them as paper.

“Unff… Wait… No! Let me go!"

The otter-bear tried to twist but he just couldn't get a grip on the tentacles, clawing at them with his short, blunt claws, his longer, more otter-like tail twitching at his exposure. He wasn't bothered at all about being rendered nude with shreds of cloth dangling off him in front of his husband, but his racing mind simply couldn't keep up with all that was happening.

The tentacles slid over him, rubbing against his inner thighs as the otter-bear's breath hitched, head twisting back and forth wildly. It was the only part of his body that had any kind of free movement remaining and he tensed, glutes squeezing as another tentacle crawled tenaciously over his buttocks. It pressed in, as if testing the pliability of his flesh, dipping between his legs to quest after the heat residing there.

Why me? He thought, though the otter-bear was not at all sure that was a question he wanted answered at that time. Why's it going after me and not Flint too?

The tentacle monster, however, had an ulterior motive in targeting Waffle rather than Flint, though the strange, water-based creature would not have minded having a male to milk in the slightest. The wolf was merely a side-course for the delight the otter-bear's body offered him. Although, of course, Waffle was a male also, the otter-bear still had the soft folds of a cunny between his legs, which was exactly what the tentacles were interested in at that time.

They slid back and forth against the otter-bear's sex, teasing and playing with him, evaluating his reaction. It was no good, after all, to penetrate a partner that was not yet willing for them to plunge deep, even though the otter-bear was softly receptive. Even as the tentacles curled around his arms and legs, forcing him to splay out his limbs and restricting his ability to move even further, Waffle cried out breathily, putting an arch into his own back.

If the tentacle monster could have made a sound, it would have crooned to the otter-bear, admiring his compliance.

“Ah… No… Flint!"

Waffle tried to squirm, yet he could barely see his partner, a good few metres below him and back on the shore, while he had been taken out into the lake a little distance. He tried to flail but the slick tentacles curled more tightly, even though they were slippery. They didn't have to have a good grip on his wet fur, supposedly, to hold him in place, the twisting mass writhing beneath Waffle.

Yet the otter-bear could not ignore the pressure of the tentacles between his legs, which were held lewdly openly, like a whore simply wanting to be fucked. It wasn't an entirely bad position to be in, though it was not one Waffle would ever have chosen against his will, breath raking down his windpipe into his lungs and his heart pounding uncomfortably hard against the cage of his chest.

No…

_ _

It felt good – but it shouldn't have! Not as the otter-bear moaned and rocked his hips, slowly losing himself, even as he shuddered bodily. His sex dampened slowly as his physical body responded to the slide and tease of the tentacles, one grinding up more deliberately over his clit.

“Ah… Oh!"

The otter-bear moaned, tucking his muzzle down to his chest, though there was no containing himself, not in a moment like that. Waffle clenched his jaw hard enough that a muscle jumped in the corner, a deep ache spreading through the base of his skull, though he could only tense and wait, holding his breath.

When the tentacle rammed into his pussy it forced a sharp, ragged cry from him, as if the sound had been torn viciously from his lungs itself. It was not entirely unpleasant to be filled, yet his own weight pulled down against the tentacles with the call of gravity, reminding him moment by moment simply how precarious his situation was.

Flint stalked back and forth – or, at least, the wolf tried to. Tentacles curled around him, caging him in, twisting and turning under his clothes much the same as had happened to Waffle. Unlike with his partner, however, the wet, shining tentacles did not tear off his clothes but merely dipped into his pants, dragging at his sheath with something that felt like a soft, lightly suctioning mouth.

“Ah… No…"

He shook his head, bringing his paws up, though it was too late for even the clawing chill of fear to take a true hold on him. The tentacles explored him, teasing and crawling over his body, tweaking his nipples to a grunting cry, though the wolf wasn't about to give in that swiftly. Flint had to get to Waffle, after all, the otter-bear the entire focus of his attention.

The tentacles, however, were not about to make that all that easy for him, understanding the bodies of anthros better than Flint could, as it had been with many different partners. Arousing him slowly, it sought those sensitive spots on his body, circling around to the underside of his tail and tickling the root of it, though such stimulation had the wolf pressing back rather than jolting away from the teasing tentacle.

It had one thing in mind, however, and could not delay too long. The tentacle did not hold back, nudging at his sheath and secreting something, he could only suspect, that got him hard in only a few moments, the wolf's hips rocking forward as if he was no longer even in control of his own body.

“Oof… No… Got to hold on… No… Let me go!"

Snarling, Flint heaved and twisted, yet there was nowhere to go, even as the cry of his partner reached his ears. He could somewhat see what was happening to Waffle, up in the air, though the rippling, pounding force of the tentacles, half-visible in the residual darkness outside the pool of lantern light, told the tale for him.

The tentacle pulled around his cock, opening that slit at the tip and taking his cock actually inside it, as if it had transformed into a fleshlight. He moaned and tried to reel away – though the tentacles, as ever, blocked his way.

“Oof… No… Got to get…to Waffle…"

Yet there was nothing the wolf could do as his paws balled up into tense fists, his tongue lolling from his mouth in a pink fold. He couldn't get a full breath of air into his lungs before the tentacle pulled around his cock, rippling and massaging around his length as if it was, very obviously, trying to milk him of all he had to give.

It was Waffle, however, who was taken the most crudely, as if their bodies were both something that would sustain the tentacle monster. They had nothing to truly fear from the liaison, though that, of course, did not make the matter any more consensual. If the tentacle monster had taken things at a slower pace or even investigated them during daylight hours, things may have taken a quite different track.

But that was not the case as the otter-bear whimpered and rolled his hips forward, thrusting up to the best of his ability. It should never have felt as good as it did inside him, the thick length of tentacle throbbing within his pussy, but Waffle simply couldn't help himself. Groaning as if it was Flint fucking him, the otter-bear's eyelids fluttered, barely able to keep his eyes open and take in something of the scene around him.

The pull and twist of the tentacles dominated his every move, every moment overtaken by the hold of the monster. He was only a toy to be used in its grasp, the tentacle pounding his pussy roughly – but not too deeply. The head of the tentacle brushed up against his innermost barrier a few times but never quite in that way that made his guts lurch uncomfortably.

He would have appreciated that if he had been in any kind of mind to do so, though it was not so, not in that moment. His passage contracted around the tentacle cock, which managed to curve up against his G-spot in such a way that had a broken, ragged cry breaking his lips.

Waffle couldn't hold himself, though it was never the otter-bear's notion to stop his own pleasure. There was nothing else for him to do other than to press on, grunting thickly in the back of his throat, his body tensing increasingly until, at long last, the damn had to burst.

With a strangled roar, the otter-bear climaxed, his juices slick around the tentacle, though it didn't need any additional lubrication to smooth down the length of it. There was still friction, Waffle's pussy deliciously tight, though the tentacle monster writhed passionately at that first orgasm.

The victim was ready… But the tentacle monster had a very interesting way indeed of impregnating its willing and less than willing victims.

It squirmed around the otter-bear, ensuring his body was full encased around every limb, allowing him no more than a couple of inches of free movement in any direction. As Waffle heaved and panted, licking his lips as he tried to regain some manner of control over himself once more, the tentacle monster stilled inside him, the tentacle bloating up.

“Ohhh…"

Waffle moaned as his sex stretched, folds tightly hugging the lightly throbbing tentacle as if his body understood what was coming before his mind even did. His head fell back, not even able to see Flint down on the shore below, though the otter-bear was too far gone to care. Not that he didn't care about Flint, but he was caught up in his own situation, fingers twitching as he bore through the strain of his sex gaping.

The tentacle monster trembled, big bulges travelling down the length of the main tentacle being used to fuck Waffle, though the first Waffle knew of it was the folds of his pussy being stretched seemingly impossibly wide. His jaw hung slack as he groaned, the egg pushing inside him, forcing his body to accept it from the narrowest point.

“Unff… No…"

He could have begged for relief, though it was hard to pay true attention to it as need swelled within him, the lure of heated pleasure pulling him insistently towards a second peak. Waffle moaned, one egg coming up against his cervix and easing by the softened barrier, though the otter-bear was not to know it was the tentacle monster's secretions that had teased that open for him.

There was no pain, at least for him, though the egg pushing into his womb was swiftly followed by another, and another. A steady stream of eggs flowed up the length of the tentacle, forcing his cunny into a near-constant gape around them, for they followed one another so closely.

And all the otter-bear could do was rest there, his body going limp even in the bristling power of climax. He moaned weakly, the breathy cry barely rasping from his lips, more and more eggs pumping up into him, jostling up against one another as his abdomen bloated out. His swollen belly slowly gave the increasing impression that he was pregnant – and, in a way, that was exactly what the otter-bear was.

Just not how he ever could have anticipated, even with his lure for impregnation, personally, and taking a little of a risk.

Flint groaned, hunched forward as Waffle groaned above him, the wet slap of tentacles grinding against one another filling the air. Even the monster was not enough to override Waffle's cries, however, the wolf's ears perked as he tuned in to him. Yet the monster drained the wolf of his seed with a ripple and pull around his cock that had Flint gasping, spending his semen with rampant, needy thrusts.

Barely able to move his hips, even with orgasm upon him, he shuddered bodily as he spent his seed, his abdomen tight as the contracted his muscles. He shook his head, though there was nothing to be done as he thrust and ground, needing the relief as much as he needed out of the situation.

Yet there was no harm to come to either of them as Waffle moaned, his belly bloated and heaving with eggs. Where his stomach had begun with a smooth rise, the otter-bear's skin and fur ended up in bulges and lumps, however lightly they were defined. Waffle's fingers twitched, dimly thinking of rubbing his stomach to feel just how they reshaped his body.

The tentacle monster thrust and ground, having relieved itself of all the eggs it could for the moment, for Waffle's body could only hold so much. It thrust, the tip of the tentacle puckering as it ejaculated, fertilising the eggs with rope after rope of seed. The tip of the tentacle wedged up into the neck of Waffle's womb and the otter-bear trembled as another orgasm wracked his body, leaving him sweaty and aching, still with a few shreds of clothing clinging to his body. They wouldn't cover him up or protect his modesty in any way, however.

Waffle hung there, licking his lips weakly, his eyelids fluttering. As the tentacle monster lowered him, his eyes met his husband's, the wolf scooted in closer to the edge of the water, forced there by the tentacles. Flint shook his head, heat simmering from his muzzle, though it could not be seen under his grey fur. But they were, at the very least, in no danger.

Panting heavily, they didn't have words to overcome the moment, choosing instead to linger in eye contact, grounding one another in the moment so they didn't have to think too much. It was hard, very difficult, with Flint's cock still as hard as it was and Waffle's sex still trying to weakly milk and massage the tentacle crammed up inside him.

But they had each other and there was to be no horrific end to their interlude with the tentacle monster. Waffle moaned, licking his lips, glutes tensing as he tried to roll his hips forward, though find the slithering grip of the tentacles too fast still for him to find the energy.

Flint grunted, his paw dropping to his cock, which had remained hard even after everything. The wolf didn't know how that could be possible, despite everything, when he normally needed time to recover between sessions. The tentacle monster, however, had its ways.

As long as they both were together, however, neither wolf nor otter-bear had anything to worry about.