Beneath this glassy surface
Divers should be cautioned discovering the ruins of ancient civilizations. You never know what you may run into...
"Beneath this glass surface"
By Juna of SoFurry
It is time to surrender to the sleeping creatures of the deep. They are guardians of ancient secrets. The dark recesses of their domain hold the knowledge of legends. But the wild shadows of the ocean depths also hide a terrible truth. Forgotten sentinels slumber on the vast terrain of murky kingdoms lost to time.
Stone ruins house several colonies of archaic monsters thought dead to time. They are fleshy pods stationed at the crumbling pillars of a lost palace. Those brave enough to swim into the watery depths see them only as coral or anemones. Divers swim by with flashlights scanning over the mighty pods; unaware of the writhing mass within. No one understands the motive behind the pods or their existence, but the theories range from mutations in the environments to evolved anemones. Problem is: none have dared study the creatures at length. All is speculation.
One mad individual craved to explore the palace ruins. She was a tiger and unbeknownst to her, a strange occurrence would happen to her that day. Her diving expedition swam to the palace and ventured from building to building. Each member took inventory by camera of video recorder. They floated through the dark depths, searching out the palace...and came across the temple instead. As they hovered nearby with flashlights in tow, the dive members looked upon strange hieroglyphics. Engravings of men and women kneeling before monstrous gods lined the destroyed temple. The team recorded the etchings and tried to make sense of it all.
The tigress followed behind her comrades. While they examined the remains of a broken altar, she went further into the interior of the temple. The same images of a long ago civilization littered the walls. A few scenes depicted gods taking offerings, others showed prayer to the gods. Something about the "offerings" didn't sit well with the feline. A closer look could provide a clue to what the scene represented. A lifetime under the water smoothed the depiction, but the image was there. She swam closer to the wall. A gloved paw reached out for the "offering" scene. She was mere inches from the wall when her flashlight shone over a dark mass out of the corner of her eye. The tigress almost dropped her only light source. Gaining her composure, the tigress whipped her flashlight into the direction of the what she'd seen.
A giant burgundy pod sat attached to the ground. It rested under the engraving of the gods taking the mortal "offerings" of their followers. Despite the broken tiles, cracked stone, and faded etchings, the temple appeared alive. Could this forgotten place still be home to ancient life? Did this strange pod hold the answers?
Bubbles floated from the tiger's regulator as her fins tread water to in the ocean depths. Silence fell over the watery grave of the ancient masonry. The tiger decided to fall back and regroup with her team. If the temple had no more secrets, then she thought it best to leave. As she turned her light away from the pod, a strange noise upset the silence. She hovered the flashlight back over the pod. There was a small opening at the top of the structure; and a stream of bubbles had lifted up from it.
The tiger's discovery came about as coincidence. She thought so. She cautiously swam over to the pod and examined the bulbous life form. The pod was not a perfect sphere. Bumps and grooves appeared on the exterior. From the sides, it looked to be carrying something within. The tigress pointed her light to the lower half of the pod. Veins trembled in the dim light, pulsing with a steady hum unheard by the diver. The light traveled back up to the simple split lip of the top. Four fleshy looking flaps acted as the only opening to the pod. What is inside this thing?. Thought the feline. But as she drew near, she was about to be given a horrifying answer.
A snakelike appendage shot up from the opening and coiled up the feline's arm. She screamed at the sudden assault. The tigress tried backing away, but it was too late. The tentacle lurched out and pulled her back to the pod. It's grip tightened as she flailed desperately to get away. At the end of the tendril was a flower lipped sucker. It crept up to her shoulder, and without warning dug into her wetsuit and pierced her hide. The tiger frantically waved her arm. She thrashed about, crying out pass her regulator until a warm sensation stopped her. The mouth of the tentacle injected a warm substance into her. Soon her left arm grew heavy, the muscles dulled, and the tigress started to sink.
She went limp in the possession of the tentacle. The feline's body lowered next to the pod, which the tigress found was not as it appeared to be. Underwater life is a glorious thing. Each organism develops means of surviving in the darkest spaces where few traverse. The ancient kingdoms worshiped these marvelous creatures, and the creatures revealed their true forms in turn. Acolytes gathered in the temples to praise the depth dwellers. Beings from a time long ago settled into the private chambers of the temples where "worship" commenced. But there was no reverence only deception.
The tigress learned too late what the ancients knew all too well: the ancient ones were highly evolved creatures descended of immortal evils who could not procreate without proper providers. Attacking the tiger was the only way to secure an incubator for their brood. Injecting the warm venom allowed the incubator to sustain aquatic-like traits such as underwater breathing. Without the effects of the toxin, the incubator drowns, dies, and leaves the pod without a successful host.
The giant pod slowly opened its lips, and the view within was quite remarkable. The pod spread open wide to present a small colony of feelers and tentacles writhing for attention. These tentacles leaped up at the tigress. The tentacles grabbed for the scuba gear, throwing it around, then ripping the wet suit free. This left the tigress naked and vulnerable. They grabbed and brought her into the larger world of a seemingly small creature. Flower lipped tentacles slithered around her breasts. They fastened onto the tiger's pink nipples and nursed from the teats. The alien creatures knew of the incubators and how their bodies work. Feelers and lips tested the mounds, suckling in the hopes of producing milk. Nothing slipped from the perking tips, but that didn't deter the tentacles. Still they fed on her nips, while below her waist several tentacles wrapped about her thighs and teased her entrance.
Tentacles immobilized the tigress. She lied there drugged by the vast array of tentacles writhing about her. The intention was to stimulate the female incubator. She must be prepared after all. Moans escaped the feline's muzzle as otherworldly foreplay kept her begging for more. Feelers breached her pussy and tailhole. No penetration, just a mere teasing of the main female ports. But how long had the teasing gone? Minutes? Hours? The tigress was unable to make sense of her surroundings. Her focus dropped. All she knew was the call of mating that the tentacles turned into a ritual.
Penetration wasn't far behind after the teasing. A single tentacle crawled over the feline's hip and stretched out to grab her clit. The tigress moaned as the tentacle pinched the bundle of nerves and dragged it to one side. Pain washed over the tiger, until pleasure ebbed it. Vocalizing her situation proved moot. Her cries of ecstasy measured to bubbles pouring out with a muffled noise. Tentacles had no use for an incubator's moans or cries. For the tentacle pod, only a warm womb was required; the time for breeding was to commence.
Those tentacles already stimulating the tigress doubled their efforts. The pod sensed the change in the female, and set into motion the final stage of breeding. From the bottom of the pod came a larger, thicker tentacle with a phallic like end. The alpha tentacle regarded its incubator with strong interest by prodding the tight petals of her entrance. The tigress groaned. With a snakelike motion, the alpha tendril crept in on the pussy lip. As it did, the open pod slowly closed in about the feline. This added protection from predators foolish enough to bother the pod while it bred the incubator. It served as a means of keeping other tentacle beasts out, as well.
But this was not ancient times. This was the modern era where the pods lived in secrecy from the rest of the world. Time forgot the creatures, but the foolhardy explorers brought back what was missed. The alpha tentacles sized up the swollen lips of the tigress. Waiting was over, and the head of the tentacle pushed inside. The first thrust met resistance, but another stroke parted the lips. Through the channel slithered the tentacle. Thick inches pushed aside the tight flesh, slipping into the edge of her cervix, then finally ending at the womb. The womb's eyelet shuddered at the forced entry. The feline felt the hard thrashing against her inner core. Muscles seized up on the invader, refusing the tentacle deeper into her garden. Like a frustrated male, the tentacle pressed on with determination, until the full length sheathed inside.
The tentacles mated with the feline by thrusting hard into her channel. Their concern rested in unloading potential seed into her belly. Breeders were a luxury to the pods. Ancient times gave a bounty of healthy incubators, but the present day provided few opportunities to rut with them. The tiger sat in the writhing pod, feeling the alpha drill into her pussy. With piston like movements, the lead tendril pummeled the tiger's passage. The alpha tensed and fell under distress. It's first release was premature (a lifetime of build up meant tentacle blue balls).
The alpha ravaged her channel over and over again. Countless streams of white cream filled her womb. After an hour, the feline's belly distended out, making her look heavy with child. But that was the idea of breeding. The alpha was the prime breeder to the captured incubator in the pod. It wormed into the breeder's fertile core then rutted until release. All other tentacles protected the incubator; keeping the host safe and stimulated. The alpha delivered another hot jet into her belly before pulling out. Spent. The trembling muscle snaked back to its wall.
One would think the ordeal over. No. After the removal of the alpha, the underling tentacles were next to breed. They lacked the mass of the alpha, but made up for it with their energy. In the hours to come, the tigress would be subjected to the frantic needs of omega tentacles. With the peculiar power of its toxin and venom, the pod could sustain the tigress indefinitely. From conception to birth, the legendary creatures prepared for everything. Breeders existed as a precious commodity.
The lesser tentacles throbbed in the feline's pussy. They came and succeeded in adding to the alpha's load. Upon retreating, the feline lay worn in the colony. Feelers massaged her exhausted body. They gently squeezed her striped pelt, giving her a tender rub down. The peace lasted but a moment, because from the bottom wall the alpha tentacle slithered out. With an unceremonious shove, it hilted in her mound and rocked her with hard, slow thrusts. Breeders required breeding, and the alpha would ensure its species lived on. Soon, breeder tigress would be matron tigress; and the alpha clearly wanted to make sure it stayed that way.