This was for otta_ff and ArcadianMaggie, because they said the fandom needed tentacle porn.
This was originally written for the TwiKinkFest. Original prompt is here: http : / tinyurl . com / ca8cwrb
Jake stares down at the water below. Waves slap gently against the rocks, but the water is dark and inky. He turns back to look at Sam, Jared, Paul, and Embry.
"Seriously?"
Sam gives him an enigmatic smile. "Yes. We've all done it."
Paul laughs and there's a hint of cruelty to it, but that anger seems to underlay everything about Paul since his change.
Looking back down at the water, Jake recalls all the stories he's heard. The cliffs at First Beach have always been forbidden to most members of the tribe. The Elders saying it was only for "the Pack," although until recently no one knew who the fuck that was. They were told the cliffs were dangerous, that diving from them was deadly. Stories about this person or that person being broken on the rocks were told and retold, but neither Jake nor any of his friends could remember knowing anyone who'd been killed or maimed by cliff diving there. By the time most of the rez kids were teenagers they would begin to look longingly at the cliffs, with the sense of invincibility and arrogance only the young possess.
So, the Elders began to tell them other stories—stories about monsters and dark, deadly water. The boys would dismiss them as campfire horror stories meant to scare them, like the chupacabra or the Mothman. They'd laugh and dare each other, but none of them ever ventured over to the cliffs.
Until now.
Jake nearly crashed his bike the first time he saw Sam and Jared standing on the cliffs. Later he'd yelled at his friend for an hour, but Jared refused to talk about it and soon he stopped hanging out with Jake altogether. Then there were Paul and Embry, and Jake didn't like thinking about those days when he seemed to have lost his best friend. Jake had gone through the change, however, so now he knew about the Pack. He also knew that Sam could order him to dive into the water below, but their Alpha didn't like to exert his authority so bluntly unless he had to.
It's just water, he tells himself. He's a wolf now, a shifter. His body is strong and tough, hard to break, even harder to kill and he heals with mind blowing speed. What could go wrong? His eyes meet Embry's and his friend looks away with what seems like resignation or sadness. Jake wishes the two of them could have talked about it, but he wasn't given any time. As soon as his transformation was complete and the basic ground rules were explained to him, he was dragged here, still sweaty and smelly.
When he'd complained, Paul said, "Don't worry, you'll get clean in the water."
Embry's chuckle seemed bitter at the time.
Sam's we've all done it, reverberates in his head. Well, if they've all done it, Jake supposes he can too. He quickly strips off his shorts and shakes out his arms. Standing naked on the edge of the cliff, he takes two deep breaths and on the third, he jumps.
The water is cold and dark, but Jake gives a loud whoop! when he surfaces. He spins around in the water laughing, adrenaline coursing through his body.
Then he feels it, something brushes against him and he spins once more to find it. But the black water mocks him. I will not panic, he tells himself. He's not going to come out of the water screaming like a little girl. Until he feels two . . . arms. It's the only way he can describe it. They wrap around each of his legs and pull him under. He screams as he goes, swallowing water and when he resurfaces he's sputtering and coughing.
"What the fuck?" he shouts and he's ready to kill one of his new brothers, but when he looks up at the cliffs, the entire Pack stands there on the edge watching. It isn't one of them.
Fuck.
He starts to swim toward shore, but before he's made it even five feet the arms grab him again. This time they wrap around his wrists as well, and he realizes as the limbs twine about him that they're nothing like arms. Arms don't bend and spiral around you like that. Arms don't feel slick and slimy like that, and arms certainly don't have small suckers all over them that attach themselves to your skin and do . . . that.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Jake tries to remember every campfire story the Elders told. He vaguely remembers something about a giant octopus, and remembers how they'd all laughed at that. Remembers how Embry said it was like that movie about the giant squid. The one that supposedly took place on the peninsula and starred that guy from CSI. Jake remembers laughing and teasing Embry for having watched it.
Only Jake isn't laughing now.
He looks up at the cliffs once more, wondering why his brothers aren't helping him, why they're just standing there, watching.
But that's all he has time to think about before the tentacles, because fucking hell that's what they are, push him aloft in the water so that he's on his back; they pull his arms and legs wide so that he's spread eagle, naked and held open in the water.
He feels two more tentacles slither up his sides and around his waist and he starts to panic, thinking that they're going to squeeze him to death, suffocate him while his brothers watch. Instead they begin to caress him, stroking his skin, the small suckers gently plucking, grotesque imitations of a lover's kiss. One of them moves up to his chest and stretches across, placing the suckers right over his nipples and the pulling sensation increases.
Jake's mouth opens on a scream. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. Water sloshes in and chokes him, cutting off his screams and he snaps his jaws shut. He feels his nipples responding. They were hard already from the cold, but now they pulse and throb in an erotic counterpoint to the continued stroking of the other tentacle across his stomach.
He feels his dick twitch.
Fucking hell, no. Jake thinks. Nonononono.
Just then, he feels another tentacle between his legs. The very tip of it circles his entrance. His scream is involuntary this time, but once again cut off by the unrelenting water. The creature continues circling and stroking his hole until it slips the tip of the tentacle inside of him. A strangled, muffled cry escapes from behind Jake's locked jaw.
Slowly, oh so slowly it begins to work its way inside him. Jake is by turns horrified and aroused, and then horrified at being aroused. The tentacle that had been on his stomach wraps itself around his half-hard cock and begins to stroke him. It takes almost no time for him to become fully hard, and this time the half-strangled cry that escapes him is one of mortified pleasure.
The tentacle between his legs finally slides in deep and Jake's brain shorts out. His world becomes nothing but overwhelming sensation upon sensation upon sensation: the cold water lapping his skin, the incessant pull at his nipples, the stroking on his cock, and the deep, deep fucking in his ass. It's relentless, primal, and consumes him.
When he comes it's with hoarse cry, and somehow this time no water splashes in his mouth and his scream of pleasure goes on and on as his orgasm rips through his body, ceaseless. Jake vaguely senses that the water around him seems to have warmed, but the feeling is washed away by the next cold wave.
Then his world goes black.
When he comes to, he's on the beach staring up into the faces of his brothers, his pack. Jared and Paul's lips are twitching with mirth, while Embry looks at him with concern. Sam just stares at him with that inscrutable fucking mask he always wears and extends a hand to help him up.
"Welcome to the Pack, little brother."
Jake gets up on shaky legs and realizes that they know, they all watched, and for a moment embarrassment and shame flood through him. Then he remembers Sam's words: we've all done it.
He looks back at Sam with wide eyes, and Sam finally cracks a smile. "Why do you think we keep coming back?"
