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Serule stared intently at the book placed on the lectern in front of him. The chamber air was thick with the strange smells of magical reagents, and there was no discernible breeze. "Seems about right," he muttered to himself, his eyes darting from the book to a circle laid out on the ground before him. It was similar to the traditional summoning circles. There were two additional circles within the biggest ring, and lines criss-crossed between the rings and sometimes through, where the gap between circles contained smaller rings encircling small pots. Each of these pots contained a different element - soil representing earth, incense representing air and a small reservoir of distilled water. A fourth contained a dried resin mix made from flammable liquid derived from a willow tree, which glowed with a blue flame. The flame and the staff Serule had laid next to his lectern were the only sources of light in the chamber.

His beak itched as his eyes wearily travelled over the page. Strictly speaking, the earth should actually have been a plant of some description, but he doubt it mattered. Also, if he was entirely honest, the book called for a much bigger breeze than the one that tentatively and unnatural wove itself around the circle from the incense. He also had the sneaking suspicion that the pot of water, whilst correctly distilled, was perhaps not as... generous a supply as the book called for, being little more than a few thimble-full. At least, he thought, the fire was functioning correctly. It glowed with the same sort of colour as his staff. It was a good sign that the lighting was similar, as it showed the magical forces were attuned correctly.

Serule took a step back from the lectern and took one last look around the circle. Summoning circles were simple really. The inner circle was the portal to places unknown. The second circle containing the elements was the energy circle, drawing on the familiar to ground the portal - air forcing the portal flat against the floor, earth forcing the portal to entertain only the three spatial dimensions rather than the unknown multitude, and water to cleanse the spirit and temper the powers within to ensure only one creature appears. The fire was multi-purpose. It fuelled the energy required to open the portal, attracted the creature from the other side, was the source of the wizard's connection to the circle and was used to sever the connection between this world and the beyond. All of the elements contribute to the trapping markings between the pots, designed to keep whatever came through from crossing the boundaries. Crossing the lines would cause whatever was inside the inner circle unbearable pain, as well as being as tough physically as smashing through rock.

The bird nodded his approval to himself and returned to the lectern. Strictly speaking, it was wise to have two wizards whenever completing a summoning, but Serule was experienced. He had confidence in his own abilities. After all, he'd checked and re-checked the circle, as well as all the markings and the elements. Nothing could go wrong.

"Famous last thoughts..." he muttered, then grasped his staff firmly and held it aloft where it cast a shimmering blue light across the floor of the chamber. The page he had selected was incomprehensible to the average furson. It criss-crossed with runes and symbols which seemed to dance beneath his fingers on the page as he drew their magical power. The words he muttered with equally incomprehensible, his tongue darting between syllables and making unnatural sounds as if possessed. It was often the way with magical books. You were working with them, rather than working from them.

The bird continued the incantation, muttering growing more rapid as beads of sweat formed upon his brow from concentration. In truth, he himself didn't know exactly what was being said, only where next he was required to go with the chant. A wizard is a conduit for the forces around him - a channel in which magic flows - a river from a reservoir. The book would know when he had drawn enough power. It was his faith in this that kept his eyes glued to that page, and blind to the rapidly growing black hole that had appeared in the centre of the floor.

It wasn't as if the floor had fallen away, but instead had simply had darkness flow over it. Where before there was the dim reflection of blue light against the stone of the chamber floor, now there was simply blackness which reflected no light, and instead simply absorbed it. From the dark a slithering sound marked the appearance of a new form into the chamber. It was similar to the sound flesh makes sliding against flesh, mixed with the sounds of vines strangling against a tree. They were the sounds of motion, of rubbing, of sliding. A new sound broke through the concentration of the bird as a dull thud, ending in a loud squelching sound reached the senses of the bird. He looked up mid-chant and found himself stammering. The inner circle was full of a mass of writhing tentacles, each struggling for space within the small confines of the circle. There was not enough space - the circle was too small. Serule gulped and choked back the next words of the incantation and the symbols scattered across the page, hiding into the corners.

"Counter-spell... counter-spell" he mumbled as he stared at the writhing mass, the sound of their rubbing filling his ears louder and louder. They were still coming through. "Let's see, green and purple..." Serule said. The tentacles were indeed green and purple. The green ones were thin and agile, darting around, the ends flicking against the walls of the circle. The purple ones, by contrast, were big and bulbous, with suckers or nodules along their length. They were bumpy, at any rate. The word ribbed jumped into the bird's mind. Serule shook his head and flicked the pages of the book.

"Gotta be something in here about purple and green t- Hey!" Serule cried out, as he looked down at the circle and saw the tentacles reaching through the barrier and rubbing at the outlines of the circle. He stared in disbelief as the purple tentacle slammed against the invisible barrier and cracked the ground around the line, breaking it neatly in two.

As the circle was broken the tentacles burst from their prison, the green ones darting across the floor in an innumerable mass, scattering the soil to the corner in a moment, and spilling the incense across the floor. The purple tentacles reared themselves up, stretching to the ceiling as if it were a beast, roaring. The fire flickered low and a sudden blast of heat evaporated the small amount of water in the water pot in a millisecond, a small cloud of steam rising from it.

Serule turned his attention quickly back to the book. "Counter-spell... counter-sp- Why won't you give me a counter spell!" he said in frustration, as the tentacles spread out over the floor, searching and questing. His mind raced. The monster had crushed through a wall of pain and a barrier harder than rock and was still going, all from the little fire which remained. He was part surprised it hadn't gone out entirely and part surprised at the tenacity of the monster. He felt a slithering tip questing against his toes and squawked in alarm, kicking out with his talons and then staring in amazement as the tentacle didn't even flinch. Could it be... immune to pain? Serule shuddered and turned back to thumbing through the book. "Spider's bane... ...Sickly fever cure... ...Sparkly gems... What is this useless rubbish!"

By this time the bird had been forced back into a corner, the monster blocking the path to both the door and the circle, as tentacles wiggled across the ground towards him. At the rate it had grown Serule was half surprised it hadn't reached him and crushed him. It must, he reasoned, be able to sense him. He closed the book and readied his staff. If incantations weren't going to work, he would try force. He focused his energy and fired a bolt towards the glowing pot of fire. He meant to shatter it, severing the energy source on this side of the portal, but as he shot a purple tentacle twisting out in front of him and deflected the bolt, its energy dissipating with a crack around the chamber. Serule squawked again. It must be able to see him, he realised. The monster knew how the summoning circle worked. It knew to keep the fire burning. It knew how magic worked. It knew what it was doing as a green tentacle slid up against his talon again, and this time slithered around his ankle and up his leg as the bird futilely tried to push it away.

Serule turned to the book again as he felt another green tentacle probing at his second talon. "C-counter-spell!" he mumbled to himself, flicking through the pages with all the haste he could manage as he tried to shake the feeling of the slithering appendage of the monster creeping up his leg. The tentacle itself was slightly slimy; it oozed its way along, cold. He risked a glance away from the book and for the first time saw the green tentacles close up. The tips were slightly swollen for a few inches in comparison to the girth along the rest of the length, and as they travelled they occasionally spit forth a green liquid which oozed down to cover their path, making it easier for them to work their way up his body through his feathery coat. He shivered as the cold of the liquid lathered itself around his legs, creeping up through his trousers. Now there were four or five of the green ones at his feet, including the two rapidly making their way up his legs, and as he turned back to the book he glanced a menacing looking purple tentacle questing its way along the same track. The purple ones were much larger - over an inch in width. but with a larger, horizontal slit in their tips.

Serule gulped as he impatiently flicked through the pages of the book. He could feel them wiggling around under his trousers, grimacing as they rubbed erratically over his inner thighs. He shuddered as he felt them slide even further, rubbing against the underside of his underwear as he clamped his legs closed. He blushed as the tentacles pushed against his closed legs, until suddenly he felt them wrenched apart as the two tentacles around his legs suddenly drew tight. The bird stumbled as he lost his balance, falling backwards with a flap of his winged arms, expecting to his the rough stone floor hard, but instead finding a soft cushion of more tentacles waiting for him on the floor. Immediately they clasped around his mid-section, and suddenly he found himself being dragged across the floor, holding on to his staff and the book for dear life.

Serule stared up at the big, bulbous head of a purple tentacle which leered over him menacingly. He was somewhat surprised he hadn't simply been torn in two, and had instead been suspended a few feet above the chamber floor, laid out horizontally with his legs spread. "W-what kind of monster are you?" he asked shocked. As if by answer, he found that now-familiar feeling of tentacles darting up his trouser legs, this time coming to rest waggling gently at the sensitive perineum between his bird-balls and tail hole. He grimaced as the tips of the green tentacles slathered his underwear with their oily liquid. the tentacles were surprisingly gentle, and despite himself he couldn't help but let a few murrs escape his beak as he found his sensitive area delicately stimulated by the tips of the long, probing tentacle monster. It, however, was not satisfied, as was made clear by the two additional green tentacles which darted up his now considerably crowded trouser-legs, coming to rub against his sheath and rump.

Serule willed himself to focus on the book whilst the monster prodded and probed. His legs were dripping with the oily liquid the tentacles used to travel, and his sheath tingled as he felt the tentacle press against it. He couldn't help but squirm a little as the tentacle at his tailhole pressed upwards from behind, stretching his underwear tight around his sheath. He could already feel, with some degree of dismay, his member pressing forth from its hiding place, coxed out by the soft, gentle touch of the tentacles all around his lower section. He cursed his own body as it sent shivers of pleasure up his spine, his fingers desperately thumbing through the book, but his eyes barely seeing the words now.

Without warning one of the tentacles retreated slightly, then moved to the side and slipped inside the gap made between the bird's underwear and his feathery skin, and in one deft tug torn the material in two. Serule glanced down in shock, and noticed two determined purple tentacles rising along the path of the green ones, up against the hem of his trouser leg. The green vine-like tentacles around his ankles spread out, stretching the fabric as wide as possible for the purple tentacle, which then pushed forwards into the gap. "No..." Serule whispered in protest, but he was powerless as the purple tentacle thursted forwards against his leg, and a terrible ripping sound filled the air as the girth of the purple tentacle split his trouser-legs apart. The monster continued to push forwards, almost irritably as it deftly split his trousers from leg to hip, until suddenly the entire lower half of Serule's clothing fell apart in tatters, leaving him naked from the waist down to the forceful two purple tentacles and the multitude of green. The purple tentacles wiggled suddenly and spat forth a glob of pleasant smelling purple liquid. It drooped out from the tips and spilt liberally down against the bird's feathery legs, seeping between the gaps in his feathers and making his skin tingle beneath.

Serule's blush grew as he stared down at himself, party in shock, as his very much erect member stood proud, surrounded at the base by a writhing mass of green tentacles. They slid softly over his furry orbs, making him squirm even as he was still held tight around the legs and mid-section. The sensation had been strong through the restricting fabric of his underwear, but now was almost overpowering. He gasped as the tentacle at his rump gave a long lick against his pucker, pressing firmly between his feathered cheeks. "No..." he said again, breathlessly as another poked and prodded at his taint.

His member was tingling as the monster's tentacles teased his sensitive spots with a slow and patient manner the bird would not have expected in a million years. He moved the book and his staff to one wing as he reached down with the other and stroked the tip of his own member, shuddering as the slightly touch sent a wave of pleasure through his body. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt like this. It must be that scent, he said, staring at the purple goop still drolling from where the purple tentacles had spat it out. He was suddenly drawn to it, and before he realised what he was doing he had bathed his wing in the stuff. The purple tentacle hanging above seemed to nod its appreciation. Perhaps, Serule realised, that was its head. It was somehow watching him. He drew his wing up to his beak and sniffed at the liquid. It was powerful and smelled sweet. He shivered as a tentacle at his rump gave a particularly meaningful rub between his cheeks and his hips flexed upwards. "J... just a little taste." he mumbled to himself, opening his beak cautiously and tasting the liquid of the purple tentacle. It was indeed as sweet as it smelt, but there was something else there too. A rich warmth which danced around his mouth, not tingling but soothing every part of his beak it touched. He closed his eyes as he lapped at his goopy wing, his member trembling as he swallowed down.

Immediately as he swallowed the motions of the tentacles changed. He felt the warmth of the goo hit his stomach and at the same moment his legs were forced straight by the tentacles, and then bent upwards, forcing him into a crouch, lying on his back suspended in the air. Serule gasped as he was forced into position by the monster, his member poking out proudly for the purple head to see, but more importantly his rump was now clearly presented, and spread wide by the position of his legs. Serule gulped as he glanced down and saw a purple member, bigger than the others which had pried apart his clothing, emerge from the mass of purple and green before him. It was spear-shaped, with a rounded head, and varied in girth to over an inch and a half. Perhaps even two inches, he guessed. It was heading right for his rump. He groaned as he felt the green ones push against his well-oiled entrance, his groan turning to a moan as the sudden pressure immediately fills his rump. It had taken little more than a short push from behind to force what felt like four of the green tentacles past his tight pucker, and he could feel them wiggling and writhing within him. They, however didn't go deep, and suddenly Serule realised he was being prepared by the monster. The green tentacles pulled and flexed outwards and he could feel his rump being stretched, first gently but then almost but not quite painfully as the green tendrils forced him wide. He shook his head and tried to focus, taking the staff back in one hand and opening the book to a random page. "Counter-sp- Oh... here it is," Serule said, surprised as the words to the counter-spell formed on the page before him. It was for exactly this type of monster. It was perfect. He couldn't believe his luck.

The purple tentacle was already pushing against his rear, somehow even wider than the hole that had been stretched in him by the green tentacles. He gluped as that warm feeling hit him, the purple tentacle goo spreading pleasure right from his sensitive backside all through his body. His member tingled and he felt it jerk as he involuntarily unloaded pre-cum onto his belly. "Azar..." he began "Azario- Azar... zaerio- oh nevermind," Serule said, and the book tumbled from his fingers to the floor.

The purple head above the bird nodded again, then drove forwards slowly, pressing itself under the cloak of the wizard bird. With one deft movement it broke the ties holding it to the bird's body, and it fell away into the writing mass of tentacles beneath. The goo it trailed lathered the bird's feathery body as before. The head prodded at the bird's beak as green tentacles rose and relieved the bird delicately of his staff and tied around his wrists. Serule opened his beak obediently, and was rewarded by another gob of the sweet purple liquid filling his mouth, even richer and purer from the source. Soon he found himself suckling on the head dangling above as it filled his maw, his tongue and jaw squeezing against the substantial mass of purple tentacle in his mouth. It slid slowly forwards and backwards, each time pressing further into his throat, but where he'd expect to gag he didn't, and instead marvelled as more and more of the thick trunk of the tentacle forced it's way inside him, down into his throat, leaking it's pleasant liquid all the way. Simultaneously, the prodding tool at his rump found it's angle and, had the bird the breath to speak, he would have moaned loudly as it pushed forwards, curling up through his tailhole and squeezing up against his prostate. He let out of a muffled groan as he was penetrated from both ends, the green tentacles assisting the passage of the purple and tickling his perineum and balls all the while. He was so close to orgasm, but found his arms pinned by the tentacles around his wrists. Trapped as he was, he tried anything he could to move his aching member, to try to push himself over the edge. His shook his hips, and groaned as it only forced more of the tentacle in his rear up inside him. He tried to bend forward and was met with a shake of the tentacle in his mouth as it plowed in and out of his throat. It was no use, the tentacle would have its way with him.

It started its thrusts slowly, almost painfully slow for the aroused avian. The thick tentacles of the monster would ooze out of his body before pushing firmly back in, leaving him one moment feeling full of the writing masses and the next strangely empty, making him will them back in. He pushed down with his rump whenever the tentacle penetrating him would push forwards, willing it deeper so it would stay that moment longer and he could retain that warm feeling. He wanted it to stay within him so badly. He wondered how long he would be used like this, kept on the edge of orgasm, but soon his questions were answered. Presently, the tentacle's pace increased, its purple tentacles working in sync as they thrusted perversely in and out of his mouth and rump. The bird couldn't feel any pain now, and only the pleasant tightness of his prostate being squeezed and his insides being rubbed. He groaned as they got faster and faster, the oily liquid allowing the tentacle to take him like a machine, roughly and forcefully. He closed his eyes as he felt himself used for the tentacle monster's pleasure, the pace ever-increasing, until he could barely tell where one thrust ended and another began. He tried to speak as he clenched his tailhole tight around the purple shaft but could barely squeak. He tied to close his jaw but the slippery member would not be denied and even seemed to speed up as he tightened around it.

Suddenly there was a roar of flame as the burning pot in the room erupted in a sudden burst of fire. The monster's thrusts abruptly paused for just a moment, how deep inside the bird could not tell, but then they resumed as thick bulges in the tentacles signalled its incoming load. The feathery bird gasped as he felt the bulges push past his tight tail hole and throat, forcing them open with ease, before erupting within him. Another came, and another. He could feel his insides swell as the monster unloaded itself deep within him. A pressure built within him and the bird groaned over the tentacle filling his mouth, his hips shuddering and shaking as the feeling pushed his own tormented member over the edge. He groaned as his member twitched, unloading his own load out over his goo-covered belly, his tail hole clenching tight around the monster, even as it continued to fill him.

The monster's thrusts continued right through their joint orgasm, until finally the loads of monster-cum sent to the bird became less and less, and the pace of the thrusts finally abated. The tentacle monster laid the bird down as it withdrew, it's sudden absence leaving the bird feeling a little empty despite the substantial amount of monster fluid still rolling around within him. He lay bound as the monster drew back, suddenly aware of just how messy he was. The green tentacles unwound from his wrist and legs as they drew back, and as Serule looked up he saw almost the entire monster already retreating into the portal. As the last tentacle left the fire went out with a pop, leaving Serule lying on the stone ground, book and staff beside him.

He rested for a moment, not entirely sure his body would ever recover, before rolling on to his side and grabbing the book. Carefully he turned the pages to the one he had been on when summoning. Like most magic books not in use, the page had resolved itself into an incomprehensible series of patterns and symbols. Serule stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, then, using his wingtip, delicately folded a small triangle in the corner of the page.