I’ve named them all. All five of them. My tentacles. You would think me a perfectly ordinary young woman to look at, although perhaps something of a bimbo judging by the size of my breasts and by my effusive, platinum blonde hair, but part my pussy lips and you will find no eager cunt wanting to fuck.
Whip is the longest, but also the slenderest. Thin, smooth, and red so dark as to be almost black, it can wind about a captive nipple, or penetrate a tight urethra, but its greatest pleasure is derived from the sharp delivery of exquisite pain. Its lash is as painful for me as it is for the recipient of its bite, but it’s a pain that makes me shiver with delight.
Tongue is soft and slick with lubricant, and pink like the tongue in my mouth. Its sense of taste is precise, and particularly attuned to the flavours of human arousal. I love to suck on it while I masturbate, French kissing while Whip tugs at my nipples and tortures them – or sometimes I tongue my own ass, finding a perverse enjoyment in tasting that rear entrance as I ready it for a savage fucking.
Squirter is most like a cock, being both perfect for penetration and capable of delivering a gushing release of fluids. Smooth-skinned and brownish-pink, it can stand up straight like a cock, and its length is such that I can wrap my lips about its unpronounced head – but its serpentine nature gives it the flexibility too to thrust most deliciously against and into my ass. I love to finish like that, my ass very full and very fucked, my cum squeezing out past Squirter to be licked up by Tongue.
Teaser is similar to Squirter, but leaks a sweet-tasting lubricant from its tip, almost continuously, and has no gushing climax. It is far more sensitive too, especially at the tapered head. Sometimes I make myself come by winding Tongue about Teaser and Whip about Squirter. I especially love to do this in public, my tentacles squirming between my legs, hidden by an ankle-length skirt, the only clue to this grotesque, inhuman act of self-pleasure being my flushed expression and the inevitable pool of syrupy cum collecting around my feet.
Mouth is the shortest and thickest of my tentacles, although its length still dwarfs any human cock. At its blunt tip is a tight ring of muscle, and when sufficiently aroused I can open that little mouth wide indeed, enough to swallow a little, curious finger or a whole, hungry tentacle. Like a snake, Mouth can expand to swallow whatever it eats, and its throat is so deep I think it must end in my womb.
While my blood is calm, all five retreat within me, leaving not even a hint of my mutated nature, but when I am aroused they surge out like serpents from a nest, restless and hungry for pleasure. If they weren’t such a sweet source of illicit pleasure, I’m sure I would quickly learn to hate them.
*
My little brother Ash, five years younger than me, never had difficulty finding girls. At twenty-three years old, he was lithe and athletic, and possessed of an easy grace and confidence. He was handsome with bright blue eyes and over-length blonde hair that was rarely combed, and hung out with his two friends Chris and Dale who shared his easy-going attitude and athleticism.
I often found it difficult to match the serious labtech he was during the week to the surfer dude he was at the weekends, and in truth I envied his life. Very much the opposite, I was perpetually overweight and struggled to find, let alone hold, a job, and men rarely looked at me twice. Even if one had ever got me as far as bed, I doubt there would have been much pleasure in it. My clit was so deeply buried that it took an industrial strength vibrator to get me off.
Drunk and miserable one night, I ranted over my misfortune to Ash. “It’s so easy for you,” I wailed. “I’ll never have a body men want!”
“Maybe you could,” he said suddenly, and I braced myself for yet more inevitable advice about diet and exercise. But instead: “There’s a new drug they want to trial. Supposed to be some miracle weight-loss pill. We’re still waiting on approval, though. Could be another year, the way these things go, but we’ve already made a million.”
Ash refused to say more, and I didn’t push him. I had no faith in miracle cures for fatness. I had tried too many. But two weeks later, he handed me a white plastic jar full of pink pills, a sticker on the outside listing an obscure product code, the batch number (‘1’) and the quantity (‘1000’). A large red stamp of ‘FAILED’ inspired confidence.
“The dose was too high and too variable in the first batch,” he explained, “so we have to destroy them.”
He went on to lecture me about how it was utterly stupid to take the pills without medical supervision, and if anything went wrong I could potentially mess up both my life and his, and I agreed and understood all that, but..
But surely it wouldn’t hurt to try? If I was careful? Maybe I could take one pill and see what happened.
I took one pill. Nothing happened.
A thousand pills. I could take one with each meal – three a day – and it would last all year. Almost.
So that’s what I did. At first there was no apparent effect, but after a month of checking myself daily, I had to admit to feeling quite positive about life. I was no longer breathless from the merest amount of exercise, and my daily masturbation sessions were unusually intense. I wasn’t losing weight, but maybe just maybe it was becoming muscle rather than fat. And maybe my dark, brown hair was growing out a shade lighter?
I saw no reason to discontinue taking the pills, and after a further two months of self-administered experimental drugs, the effects were unmistakable. I was no skinny model, for sure, but my increasingly feminine curves were balanced with well defined muscle and I felt for the first time in my life like a real woman.
And my hair was definitely lighter. My roots were a caramel blonde. “Suits you,” Ash said.
Of course, I had always been a real woman, but now I caught men staring at me in if not open admiration then at least speculative interest. I still struggled to believe it, and amazing though the results were there was still improvement to be made. I wasn’t, for lack of a better word, perfect.
“Yes you are,” Ash said, hugging me from behind as I glowered at his reflection in the mirror.
Most amazing, however, was my clit. All my life it had been shy, hard to find and harder to excite, but now it jutted out when aroused, almost like a tiny cock, making a prominent bulge in my underwear. My newly huge clit was also very sensitive, and the gentlest caress was sufficient to excite me, and my orgasms were out of this world, and very wet.
Very loud too, when I thought I was alone. Ash’s grin after overhearing one day was enough to make me burn with embarrassment.
As side effects of experimental drugs went, I could live with that.
Two months more, and things were getting decidedly weird. I had the toned and athletic body of a volleyball player, which I didn’t mind at all, and I loved the lustful looks I got occasionally from men. I quite liked my bleach-blonde hair and matching pubes. Even my brother Ash, professionally curious about the effects of the pills, stared at my huge and unnaturally perky tits with longing whenever he thought I wasn’t looking. The same way I stared at the bulge in his shorts.
I was, undeniably, hot. I could have been pulling men left, right and centre. With my newfound confidence and general happiness with life, I found a job easily, and even kept it. As a barista at a local cafe, where once I would have been miserable, I smiled despite the long hours and low pay, and daydreamed about one day taking a gorgeous guy back home with me for hot kisses and hotter sex.
But I didn’t dare do it for real. My clit was still growing, and had divided into three tapered, sensitive appendages. I should have been freaking out, but even this mutant growth was worth it for all the benefits of the pills. I loved being sexy.
My three clits could be manipulated as easily as my fingers. Indeed, I could excite myself to an orgasm just by caressing clit against clit, something I did frequently when the cafe was quiet – and sometimes when it wasn’t. I could tease my labia with the delicate, sensitive tips, and even penetrate myself, although there was little pleasure in that.
Week by week my tentacle clits grew, and soon I could touch and eventually penetrate my ass. Bizarrely, I could taste it too, although for a long time I thought it my imagination.
I spent my days in the cafe serving coffee, no underwear beneath my knee-length skirt, only three increasingly tentacle-like clits that grew longer and thicker by the day.
The pills had done an amazing job on me. Where once I had been fat and far from sexy, now I was toned and voluptuous. Had I been ten years younger, I could have been a cheerleader, my breasts bouncing to the delight of crowds. I should have stopped taking the pills now that the goal was achieved, but perhaps through habit, perhaps through addiction, perhaps just through curiosity, I continued.
In time, three clits became five. Five increasingly long and serpentine clits that lurked within me, making what had once been my vagina their nest. I just had to part my labia and they would slither out, hungry for sensation. No man would ever dare try to fuck me there now.
*
Ash, delighted by my transformation into an archetypal, big-breasted, blonde bimbo, had no idea of the unexpected side-effect. That was my secret – until the blisteringly hot midsummer day when Ash, Chris and Dale went to the beach and I, desperate for some sea to balance the sun, asked to join them.
“There’s not really space,” Chris said, although the way he looked mournfully at my breasts suggested he wished it was just me and him in the car.
“I don’t know,” Dale said, equally mesmerised. “Maybe she could sit on Ash’s lap.”
That was ridiculous. Ash would break under my weight. I might be fit as hell, but Ash would suffer under me. “I’m not sitting on Ash,” I said, “but Ash can sit on me – if you like?”
This last was directed at Ash, who blushed but nodded. Five minutes later he was on my lap in the back seat, bouncing from the motion of the car. Next to us was a wall of surfboards and beach towels, providing partial shade from the sun that overwhelmed the car’s dodgy A/C, not helped by the fact that the road was busy and progress slow.
It wasn’t the first time my little brother had sat on my lap. It was, however, the first time he had done so since I grew tentacles.
What I hadn’t counted on was the pressure of his back against my breasts, and his bum so soft and inviting as it wriggled in my lap. I didn’t need to see the bulge in his baggy shorts to know he was aroused. I could smell it. My tentacle clits, emerging from their hiding place, could taste his arousal in the hot, humid air of his crotch. Despite Ash being my brother, I was aroused. The smell of him was making me dizzy with lust, and my tentacles slithered restlessly.
“Sit very still, Ash,” I said, “and don’t make a sound.” I covered his mouth with one hand and with the other I caressed his swollen shaft through the thin material of his baggy shorts. “Those pills you gave me had a very interesting side-effect.”
He jumped with fright and squirmed in my lap as Teaser slipped out from under my skirt and snaked up his thigh, into his shorts. I moaned quietly with pleasure as the inquisitive tip of my tentacle encountered his hard cock and glided up to that sensitive spot just beneath the head. Ash gradually relaxed, his enjoyment of this attention clear, despite its abnormality.
“This is just the beginning,” I murmured after a few minutes of this foreplay. “Lift up.”
Ash hesitated for a bit, but then decided that either it wouldn’t be too obvious to his friends that we were up to something – or that he really didn’t care. He lifted up enough to push his shorts to his knees, and I bunched up my skirt quickly to give myself unhindered access to my brother’s exposed rear.
With my hands I held his hips still as Tongue wrapped lovingly about his cock, tasting his man flesh, and I nearly came just from that. “I am going to fuck you so hard, little brother,” I whispered and penetrated his cock with Whip. The slender tentacle fit perfectly within his urethra, and he was so slippery with precum that I was able to fuck his cock gently like that while Tongue swirled wetly about his shaft.
Chris and Dale were arguing in the front about some Star Wars storyline that meant nothing to me. I was amazed they couldn’t smell what we were doing. I hoped they wouldn’t notice, but I was past being sensible about this. One way or another, I needed to come, and I really wanted to make Ash come too. He was breathing heavily as he sat in my lap and tried not to squirm too violently as two tentacles had their way with his cock and a third nudged at his ass – because of course I couldn’t leave him alone there. That tight, forbidden entrance was too much of a temptation and I teased it with Teaser, flicking the little ring of muscle playfully as I made it wet with lubricant, getting it ready for Squirter that was already throbbing with impatience.
I couldn’t believe I was finally losing my virginity, and to my own brother in the back seat of a car. I loved how hard his cock felt between my adoring, ravishing tentacles. I loved the taste of it. I loved the tightness of his ass as Teaser darted inside. His ass was responding to these overtures, contracting in eager anticipation of the main event. “Ready, Ash?” I whispered, not really caring whether he was or not. I finally had a man to play with and I was loving it.
Ash nodded, and with savage delight I thrust up with Squirter, penetrating him, stretching him slowly but with determination. He gave a quiet, involuntary cry that caught Chris’s attention. Dale continued driving, oblivious to what was happening immediately behind him, but Chris stared at us in shock.
I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. I thrust deeper into my brother’s ass, claiming it completely. If Chris wanted to watch, I certainly didn’t mind. Maybe he’d even let me do him next. I’d had a bit of a crush on him for years. I reached out towards him with Teaser, inviting him to touch me if he dared.
Ash’s enjoyment of this unconventional coupling was clear. He bounced in my lap in time with my vigorous thrusting. How many times I had fucked my own ass and it had never felt so good as this. I was in heaven – and I could feel that Mouth was ready to join in. I pulled Whip from Ash’s cock and with Tongue I guided his throbbing member to Mouth, which opened wide to swallow him whole.
He gave a deep groan of guttural pleasure as I sucked fiercely on his cock while continuing to plunge into his ass. Mouth felt gorgeously stretched by his cock – and suddenly that eager length was kicking within my tight grip, his ass contracting fiercely about Squirter. I had made Ash climax, and it was wonderful. His cum burst into Mouth, and the sweet, tickling sensation of that, coupled with the squeezing of my tentacle by his ass triggered my own fantastic climax.
I cried out as my whole body contracted in blissful ecstasy, and then I was convulsing along with Ash, my cum flooding into his perfect ass as his continued to squirt into my engulfing tentacle.
“Holy shit!” Dale said, no longer oblivious to the wild tentacle sex session taking place in his car. Fortunately, we were stopped at a red light, and when the lights changed he had enough composure to pull off the road safely before turning around again.
I wrapped my arms about Ash, reluctant to ever let him go again. With Mouth I sucked gently on his wilting cock, and with Tongue I licked his tender ass, but Teaser twined playfully between Chris’s curious fingers and Whip and Squirter wound about each other restlessly between my parted thighs.
I was hungry for more, and knew I was about to get it.