Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Flesh

   by Knight of Passion

   Story Codes: F/beast, tentacle, reluc

   ----- My stories are works of fiction, and should not be interpreted as
condoning illegal acts.  Be smart.

   Please send comments, feedback, questions or criticism to
x.knightofpassion.x@googlemail.com, or check my blog at
http://knightofpassion.livejournal.com.

   Knight ----

   Emily ran along the road, her feet raising splashes in the shallow
puddles, the warm summer breeze drying the white cotton blouse that clung
to her blossoming teenage body.  The rain had come and gone, though the sky
to the south was a dirty, sullen smear that was dark even in the gathering
twilight.  She glanced at her watch, and increased her pace, her athletic
legs carrying her swiftly along the single-track country road.  Her
boyfriend Luke had promised her a ride home after cheerleading practice,
but had decided instead to go drinking with his buddies.  Emily had begged
him, pleaded with him, to take her home, but...

   She shook her head.  It didn't matter.  He was an ass, and she was
better off on her own.  And even though she was late, and her parents would
be mad at her, it felt good to be running, free and alone and surrounded by
nature.  A bubbling stream, swollen with rainwater, gurgled along a shallow
ditch by the side of the road, the sound of it so soothing that she almost
didn't mind the memory of Luke's cruel smile and vulgar suggestion...

   Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the fist-sized stone that lay
ahead.  Her right foot landed on it, twisting awkwardly, and Emily fell to
the side.  She struck the scarred asphalt once, and rolled hard into the
ditch, her book-bag gone, her legs submerged in water that was curiously
warm.  The flow pushed her short skirt up to her hips almost immediately,
and, as she lay there stunned, Emily thought for a moment that the pressure
of the water against her white cotton panties was more than a little
pleasant.

   Then the reality struck.  She was soaked, half-covered in mud from the
stream-bed, alone and vulnerable and still miles from home.  "Damn," she
spat, slapping the tepid water in disgust, blinking back hot, gluey tears.
She would not be overwhelmed.  Closing her eyes and drawing a slow, ragged
breath, she tried to lift herself up, but could not maintain her balance
against the irregular tug of the stream, and landed heavily on her bottom.
Sitting on the stream-bed, the water gushing past her up to her
belly-button, her buttocks, thighs and calves sinking into the sediment,
she felt utterly wretched.

   Her vision blurred by tears that she refused to shed, she saw an
indistinct shape part the flow of water.  For a moment, she thought her bag
had tumbled into the ditch with her, but even in the sullen half-light, she
quickly realised it was something...  else.

   She leaned forward.  It rose up.

   Emily blanched, her cry of alarm stifled by astonishment.  It was a
grey-green length of flesh, three or four inches thick and easily a foot
long, rising from the turbulent water, its tapered tip pointing toward her
as if it was...

   She swallowed.  As if it was examining her.

   Emily remained perfectly still, her eyes wide, not even daring to blink.
The object - the creature - moved through the air slowly, sinuous waves
passing along it's length as the tip swayed slowly from side to side. 
Possible explanations tumbled through Emily's mind as she struggled to
understand this monstrous, alien thing, but none seemed to fit.

   Suddenly, the slime-drenched tentacle whipped through the air in front
of her, feinting an attack and driving her back, her palms and heels
sinking into the soft mud of the stream-bed as she tried to escape the
horrific appendage - but the tentacle paused for just a moment before
closing, whip-like, around her slender throat.  She struggled; it did not
yield.  A scream tore from deep in her chest as the tentacle coiled lazily
around her throat, growing ever tighter.  Emily grabbed at it, her fists
closing around the wrist-thick shaft, the viscous slime so slippery that
she could barely hold it.

   And then, beneath the choppy surface of the warm water, she felt
something brush her inner thigh.  There's another one, she thought, the
knowledge immediate and terrifying.  She released the tentacle that bound
her throat and thrust her hands into the water, rising panic giving her a
surge of strength, but before she could find the source of the questing
touch, two more tentacles burst from the water and bound her wrists, easily
lifting her hands from the water no matter how hard she fought.

   Effortlessly bound, she could offer no further resistance as the
delicate touch again ghosted over the exposed flesh of her inner thigh. 
Hot salty tears ran freely from her closed eyes.  The touch - the flesh -
drifted up her thigh, stroking flesh that no-one but Emily had ever
touched.

   Finally, it arrived at her panties, the saturated cotton the only
barrier to - no, she protested silently.  It isn't possible.  Oh, God, it
isn't It traced the neat cleft of her pussy, pushing indelicately against
the delicate flesh, her wet panties doing nothing to disguise the
purposeful touch.  It pressed harder, and for a terrible moment Emily
feared the drenched fabric would give way - but mercifully, it retreated.
She groaned as the breath left her body in a relieved rush.  Even the slimy
bonds that encircled her throat and wrists were bearable, so long as She
didn't even complete the thought before a sharp pain stung her hips and
thighs.  It took her a moment to realise what had happened, but the
sensation of the warm water rushing over her sex was unmistakable.  The
creature had torn off her panties, and that could only mean one thing.

   The slimy tip brushed inquisitively against her exposed quim, and
Emily's stomach lurched - but the revulsion was soon eclipsed by a sudden
slash of pain as the tentacle pushed its way inside her.  Her eyes wide,
her body straining against the restraints, Emily howled at the dark sky. 
The tentacle parted her labia easily, the abundant lubricant of its slime
affording it easy entry.  The pain of her torn hymen and the girth of the
shaft sinking into her were more painful than she had ever imagined - but
as fierce as it was, she clung to it, wrapping herself in the physical
torment to try and avoid the terror.

   The probing tentacle pushed deeper, not pausing for a moment as it
easily filled her pussy.  It felt like a tree-trunk, splitting her in two,
and even the tiny, fragile part of Emily's mind that remained capable of
rational thought told her that it must be substantially larger than the
average human penis.  She felt as though it was tearing her apart - and
indeed, that seemed to be it's purpose, for even as it filled every recess
of her virgin pussy, slipping easily between her tight lips, it continued
to push, probing the limits of her body.  It hurt, a fierce blaze of agony
that radiated out from her sex to consume her.

   And yet, somewhere deep inside, she was smiling - a cold, tight smile of
triumph.  Luke wasn't going to get her cherry now, no matter how much he
tried to blackmail her.  This ugly, sweet-scented flesh had taken it, had
effortlessly possessed her and Sweet-smelling?  Through the fog of her
thought, Emily forced herself to inhale - and yes, the tentacle holding her
throat smelled sweet, like cotton candy.  The warm, muscular flesh,
dripping with viscous slime - somehow, it didn't feel so bad.  Even inside
her, though the agony of being stretched by what felt like a foot of thick,
powerful tentacle - even that didn't feel entirely bad...

   Reality returned in a rush, harsh and vivid.  Amidst the bittersweet
ache of the tentacle sliding deeper into her abused sex, a second touch
alighted on her puckered anus - it was all Emily could do to heave out a
choking sob as a second intrusion, as thick as the first, began to force
its way into her ass.  The tentacles around her throat and wrists lifted
her higher until her bottom was almost completely out of the water, and for
the first time she was grateful for the coil of slippery flesh that held
her throat so tightly, because it obscured her view of the vile tentacles
which wormed deeper into her body, spreading her holes wider and wider. 
The pain blurred sensation - could she truly be feeling exploratory touches
deep in her intestine?  In her womb?

   The sweet scent caught her attention once more, and she could feel her
body relax.  There was nothing she could do; the tentacles were so much
more powerful than her, so much stronger.  She was surprised to hear a low
moan escape her lips, then smiled.  Why not?  The pain couldn't get any
worse, and it felt rather nice to be so...  full.  Another pair of
tentacles had emerged from the muddy bed of the stream, and were caressing
her small, pert breasts with powerful strokes, running in sinuous, sensual
waves over the firm flesh, their dextrous tips circling her hard nipples -
and all the while, still more of the muscular flesh slipped into her pussy
and ass, stretching her, violating her, filling her.

   Emily cried out suddenly, a hot rush of pleasure that, just for a
moment, eclipsed the terrible pain.  She closed her eyes and threw back her
head, fighting for breath as the sudden orgasm pounded and raged through
her abused body.  It was so wrong - so deliciously, sweetly, perfectly
wrong!  The tentacles quivered and stiffened inside her, reacting to the
rhythmic contractions that pulsed through her pussy and ass, working the
slippery masses of mysterious flesh.  "More," Emily mumbled, her lips numb
and throat raw.  The air was sugar-sweet.  The tentacles were warm and
loving.  She wanted them.  She needed them...

   A timeless moment passed, and Emily awoke suddenly, emerging from the
darkness of unconsciousness into the dim light of evening.  She was on her
back at the bottom of the ditch, the rainwater rushing around her - and of
the mysterious tentacles, there was no sign.  Emily blinked.  What the hell
had happened?

   Slowly, she sat upright, feeling the water stream from her hair. 
Everything was peaceful and still - the wind had dropped, and the daylight
had long since faded.  Had she dreamed the encounter?  Could her
imagination be so Her fingertips, seeking reassurance, dipped between her
thighs, and returned smeared with greyish slime.  Her panties were missing,
and her holes were dripping with copious amounts of the sweet-smelling
ooze. A sudden tremor passed through her, and echo of the pleasure she had
felt as the creature had fucked her...

   She got unsteadily to her feet, and, with a last look back at the
stream, climbed the shallow ditch back to the road.  Her parents would be
mad that she was so late, but it didn't really matter.  She glanced around,
taking in her surroundings with meticulous care.  A forked tree; a buckled
section of worn asphalt; a solitary fence-post marking the ditch.

   Emily nodded, and picked up her book-bag from where it had fallen.  She
swung it over her shoulder, pulled up the waistband of her skirt just
enough that the cooling evening breeze could soothe the heat of her
slime-drenched cunt, and began to walk.  But already, she was devising
plans that would allow her to stay home from school the next day, and
return to the scene of her attack.

   She wasn't finished with those tentacles.

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