29 Days of Smut 2016
Dec. 21st, 2015 05:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
A self-imposed challenge of my own creation, running from February 1, 2016 to February 29, 2016. I only plan to start these stories (producing around a thousand words for each), not to finish them within the month.




















Nameless Thing [3/?]
Date: 2016-03-12 11:29 pm (UTC)In any other situation--had she not been bound and on the brink of potential destruction by the damn thing--Rylan would've thought this particular new arrival hilarious. It was undeniably phallic, something that belonged in one of those weird Japanese pornos instead of her actual fucking life, and yet Rylan was fairly sure she had somehow managed to stumble into the one warehouse in the universe where those two vastly different worlds were about to intersect.
And as horrified as she was by that thought, she couldn't begin to guess what was going through Avery and Jackson's heads right now.
On the other side of the gate, Avery and Jackson were both still struggling against their bonds, though Jackson's struggles were growing fainter even as Avery's became more frenzied. Finally, as the new, bulbous-ended tentacles approached them with an odd sort of caution in their movements, as perhaps if they were more fragile than the others, the divergence of their responses reached its apex; Jackson went completely still, not quite lax in the grip of the beast but as immobile as Rylan herself was at the moment, and she watched his head fall back as he seemed to accept whatever was about to happen to him. Her heart seized in terror, her eyes locked on the blonde while the redhead beside him raged against his captor.
The bulbous tentacle near Jackson seemed to take his apparent submission as invitation, and Rylan's gaze followed its descent. She felt an uncomfortable stirring between her legs, an interest in what exactly was about to happen--what she thought was about to happen--that made her sick with herself, more so than she'd ever been before. She was a monster for it, she decided; this wasn't like in the past, where the only person who could even possibly be hurt by her own stupid, foolish weaknesses to... to things like this was herself. Jackson and Avery--assuming she was right about what they were about to endure alongside her--were victims, and she had no right in the world to get off on that.
And yet she couldn't keep her eyes off her boyfriend's face as the head of the tentacle nudged against his lips, and she was shocked to see him open his mouth, just as he was mutely bid, and let the thing slip between his lips and onto his tongue.
It helped, Rylan knew, that Jackon didn't appear to be fighting this, but never let it be said that she was a woman to mistake lack of struggle for consent. But, of course, no matter how much she kept telling herself that this was wrong, that she shouldn't even be watching it, let alone enjoying it, however involuntarily, enjoy it she did, and it was almost enough to keep her attention from the far more disturbing scene going off just to Jackson's right, where Avery hung in the air and still fought for his freedom.
She rather suspected at this point that fighting wasn't worth the exertion.
Tiny tentacles, jet black and small enough that Rylan might not have seen them from where she was if they didn't arrive in bulk, moved toward Avery's jaw, and her eyes widened at the sight of them trailing over his face like snakes, squirming and writhing over his skin until they reached his mouth and curled inward, pushing past his lips with absurd ease--and then they appeared to be tugging his jaw open, sliding in between his teeth and prying the two rows apart until his mouth was being held open and vulnerable, and the bulbous tentacle pushed into his mouth, muffling Avery's scream.