Warnings: deranged content, glorification of violence, mature sexual content, rape
Disclaimer: OC is me, everyone else is not mine. I don't get any money for this.
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Tentacles all over my body, pinning me hard to the wall. I try to scream but my mouth gets plunged in immediately with a really fat and warm one, rolling itself all over my tongue.
His voice is vicious and quiet, he is obviously enjoying himself - "sssht - don't drive unneccessary attention now, will you? I don't feel like being chased by the squad all over the town - rather ... " The rest of the sentence he decides to show me instead.
His hands move over my yet covered breasts and squeeze them hard. I bet my skin gets all red by this harsh intruding touch. His tongue licks over the exposed skin on my sensitive neck. Yukky, but so hot ... and wet likewise. Even more tentacles grow from his body, they feel lubricious as they glide insanely fast over the parts of my skin which are not covered by clothes. My knuckles are bound and every struggle is in vain, but I still try.
Don't give up - no matter what, at least make it as hard as you can for him. For this nightmare - this morphed creature, surely evolved from this infection which spreads all over the city - for him it's just a game. For me it's the last struggle before death, or clearly even worse.
Yes, it get's even worse, one of tentacles started to glide up between my legs - having easy access under my skirt. Oh how bad I regret the choice of my clothing this morning - but who in Hell would have guessed that something like THIS could actually happen! It should have been a normal day to my boring work and back! Not struggling to get away from this creatures, this zombies everywhere! It had spread like a fire, from nowhere and now it's almost everywhere. I hear people screaming on the road just a few steps around the next corner - the panic, the shooting. But all that concerns me now is the tantalising sensation between my legs.
It strikes my clitoris, vicious with purpose, over and over again and even trough clothes it sends bolts of lightning trough my body. I still try to scream, to struggle, but he presses himself even more, even harder against me. Like he is trying to feel every moving muscle on his overpowering body.
But the things I try not to feel work themselves under my skin, burn themselves inside me - the hot breath over my neck, the hands which tear my bra and leave my breasts open for the wind. A cold shiver runs down my body - meeting the moist sensation of those tentacles of his. They worked themselves under my panties now, now finally meeting my pure skin. My whole body trembles and he is enjoying it. I try to stop the sheer terror, mixed with pleasure, try to will my body to stop fueling his power - but fail.
I still try to scream but it changes to moaning, to muffled sounds of pleasure by this thick, pulsating thing in my mouth, still moving, even caressing the insides of my mouth and shooting something warm and chewy down my throat. The flow of this sticky liquid doesn't end, it started almost immediately as he plugged it inside my mouth and I just do my best not to choke on it, while I perceive it gliding down my throat, like the burning sensation of too hard alcohol, but even stronger.
I want it.
My pussy is begging for it. It must be the same liquid he shoots trough my mouth that now flows down my legs - converted, absorbed from my body now getting his path in the open again. It soaks my panties, and flows even further down the tentacle pipe - which still works merciless on my clitoris. I try to scream from frustration, why doesn't he end it? Why doesn't he take me as hard as he can?
But it's all the same, his fingers press slowly my nipples together, squeeze them, plays with them first hard, then gently and then all over again. I glare at him, furious, trying to kill him with my stare. Sending mental threats DO IT! FUCK ME! KILL ME! OR LET ME GO GODDAMMIT! And as if he had heard - his smile widens to a grimace with teeth. Which he now decides to use on the tortured nipples.
My head shoots back and hits hard the wall. The pain mixed with glorious pleasure is too much for me. I need one of those damned tentacles now, deep inside of my pleading pussy, or I am gonna lose my mind.
His hands knead my waist, move down to my hips and knead them too and all the while those tentacles move, squeeze my skin so hard that my blood has a hard way to flow trough my body. My hips start to move on they own - back and forth, even circling trying to get just a bit more friction - anything.
As he sticks a finger, rough and unexpected - tearing my panties in the process - trough my gaping entrance, my vision goes white. But still he doesn't move it - torturing me with this endless patience of his. I'm desperate, so I try to move myself over it, but those tentacles and this iron grip of his don't allow me any further release. I feel myself crying - crying from pleasure, from want - from endless need, while squeezing my pussy over this hot thin intruder.
Suddenly my lips are left with a plop, absolutely hollow and I feel the huge loss of this fleshy thing in my mouth so deep as it would have left my soul instead - disoriented I blink on him.
Will he leave me like that? - There is no dignity left in me.
But thank god - devil - whatever, he replaces it with his own lips and I plug myself into his mouth hungry for more. This hot thing between my pussy, hard as stone and long and thick, I know immediately it's not one of the tentacles of his. He rubs it back and forth on my entrance soiling himself on the liquid which still drops from within me.
"mmmh mnnnh mm" - A pathetic try of urging him on, to finally do it - but he is like an unmovable force. The more I beg and plead for him to do something, the harder he gets, the more he refuses.
The tentacles have they own tongues, they lick my skin and it tickles some places, and on others it itches so bad you could get mad. There is no one to scratch the spots while they shred my clothes piece by piece from my skin - exposing me even further to his icy blue eyes.
I'm a mess, covered in sweat and liquid on all the spots - those nasty, veined, filled with blood and something like gore, touch. But the scent on them, his scent is so good I'm getting addicted to it. His thing, it feels like a glowing ironbar, moving steadily between my hips, touching my clitoris in the process. There is no way to stop him or to urge him on, the rhythm just matches my desperate heartbeat. The lips between my pussy feel sore from the friction, but still itchy to get more and more, to gulp this huge thing in.
I whimper, there are endless tears running down my cheek which get immediately eaten by his tentacles, as if that would be they primary food source. My skin want's to crawl away from my body, I wind and coil under him and still don't get what I truly want.
As I see them around us, my heart almost stops. The zombies found us in this alley, it's daylight and there is nothing that could cover our presence - but it doesn't bother him - maybe he didn't even discover them - too much absorbed in his own pleasure. I stare at them, struggling with fear now, trying to signal the approaching danger.
Why do I care? I'm dead anyways!
But I do care, I want him to fuck me. Not even want to live on, or to escape - no, the only thing I want is to deserve the moment when he finally buries himself inside me.
But they are only one foot away now and as I almost give up hope for salvation - one of those tentacles stretches out, directly from his back and smacks them into pieces without even the remotest care on his part. He just proceeds to burn me with the slow strokes of his junk between my wet pussy, between my squeezed, trembling legs as if there is nothing in the world that can stop him.
And in this moment I understand the power of his over me. There is nothing that can actually save me from him. He will proceed to do as he pleases as long as he wishes and my trembling body accelerates to shudder under him.
Don't know when it happened. It feels like hours of endless torture. I'm a mindless bubble of senses, of liquid, of burning sensations over every part on my body - there is nothing else.
There are tentacles formed like hands, which spread me wide - but still refuse to enter me and just playing on the outside. There are other tentacles thin like worms, they move even into my ears - moist and warm. There are tentacles under my armpits they lick and tiltilate in an endless process. I hear a humm a moan, a pit full whimper, and only after hours I realize it's me. My own mouth still tied locked with his - while he proceeds to kiss my lips and tongue and roam my mouth.
And then, it's like a sharp wake from a dream as he decides god knows from what reason to enter me. Agonizingly slow - but with no mercy, no hesitation, no pause, proceeding till he is all in till to the shaft, completely soaked within my body. I don't see anything but tentacles quivering around us, concealing our bodies in a large bubble, meanwhile so many that I don't even know if there is anything left around us, any world to even return to.
The sensation of being finally filled just kills me and I come immediately. Just from the first thrust, from the immense friction, from his lough while he is doing it - knowing that he gives me an endless mercy. There is no one who would deserve such a blessing - not in this rotten world - and still he is giving me it. Just a passenger in the wrong place on the wrong time.
He is saying something, right beside my ear with this beautiful dark voice, his breath hot and sweet - but I don't get the meaning. I just come and come all over again, my walls collapsing all over the hot beating pulsation he strucks in and out of me. There is no way to tell when he is gonna stop, there is no way I will be able to endure this for much longer - but I do.
He fucks me roughly, steadily in and out with a fast beat. Smacking wet noise, mingling with the sound of those zombies around us which are smacked into pieces - foolish enough to think they can get here a next meal. But mostly it's the sound from his body colliding with mine over and over again.
I come again and again, till I can't come any more but he still doesn't let go. The blessing turns into agony - I'm sure there is blood now flowing down my legs rather than the pleasant mess from before.
"Please kill me." Only an echo of a voice - nothing more. Who in hell would have known that I would beg for it, instead for freedom. There is no way I can live on with that after me.
I would want more.
Insanity.
The moment he shoots his semen into me, I feel it clearly pumping, filling me up till there is no more room left, then squeezing out between our locked genitals, almost soothing the raped entrance in the process, slowly sliding further down my legs - this is the second blessing he gives me. Then in that moment I know it's finally over and the salvation of it lets the world become dark and completely senseless.
Just the last words hunting after my unconsciousness - "Now you will become like me."