Chapter 3: Chapter Three

Ilaria shakes her head. For the very first time since she reincarnated in this world (in her world, the world she’s supposed to be the main character of), she feels the shivers of fear run cold and sharp down her spine.  

The girl who is now apparently immune to her flames is naked under the now-open maw of her armor turned monster. And what a monster it is, come straight out of the worst horror games she used to play: each tentacle stretches tentatively into the air, opening wide until they form a crown of black and purple spikes around her form. The Knight smirks and then twitches as some of the smallest tentacles and feelers move over her skin, caressing her wide hips and rounded, large breasts. Her nipples stand up and out and she turns red in the face.  

“Ah,” she breathes out, “Uvasa is all excited. He’s not happy at all about your little show, you know. It took him a lot of time to develop the right mutation for your... power, or magic, or whatever it is you Stray possess. And now that it’s ready, he’s ready to share some love...” 

“Don’t give me that shit!” Ilaria takes a step back. It’s true that she’s at a disadvantage, but she’s not going down that easily. That’s her last cohesive thought as the tentacles descend upon her. “Don’t touch me, you sick fucks!” She lashes out with both arms, spewing plasma against the incoming black tide, but it washes over the scales of the monster like oil on water. “Get off!” She screams as the first tentacle wraps around her wrist, locking it in place. She pulls, but it’s like trying to take her hand out of concrete. She’s trapped. Soon more tentacles rise to coil around her legs, her midsection, her other arm. 

She shuts her eyes and calls upon the very soul of her power, like she has never done before. Its source now finally bared, her chest burns bright, then white tendrils of light cross over her skin, and she lets out a wail and a scream and the light explodes.  

All is white. 

When she opens her eyes, spent and panting, the tentacles are still there, tight around her body. But she has no more strength to squirm. The monster wrapped itself around the redhead, and it now opens once again. The eyes look at her and if before they were annoyed, now they are pissed off, a red light going off in every one of them. All around them is a vitrified crater – she smells burnt earth and her own sweat, her own fear.  

“Playtime’s over,” the girl says in a sterner voice. It looks like her little trick really took up all her patience, because with a quick step or two she’s right besides Ilaria, eye-to-eye, and she can see the fury in those emerald pools. “Now I wonder what we’re going to do with you...” 

The tentacles move up her body. 

“Nooo... let me go you sick... fucks...” 

It seems like there’s no end to them. They keep her body in place while rising over her flesh, stark black and purple against her skin. They wrap around her breasts and a large one begins to massage her abdomen. 

“Don’t go there! No! No!” 

It’s not as fun when you’re the one being molested, hm? 

“Wha... who’s that? Get out of my head!” She says to the deep, male voice rumbling through her brain like a sudden guest.  

“Heh. As I told you, Uvasa likes to get close up and personal.” 

Two smaller tentacles, thinner than her fingers, writhe up her neck and then begin to explore inside her ears. 

“Nooo! Let me go! Don’t go there!” 

Hmmm. I see nothing good in here. Just a lot of petty desires and delusions of grandeur. 

“You think she’s salvageable?” 

“I can perform no miracles. But let’s get her... eased into it.” 

“What are you doing? Let me g-” 

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Now, please. Your moans would be much more interesting than your words. Please do resist. I love it when they squirm, the voice says inside her head and she fully panics. Her heart is beating harder than it ever did and the tentacles are so warm and pulsating against her flesh. She tries to squirm but they are not letting go in the slightest, it’s difficult even to breathe... or maybe, maybe that’s because there’s something else going on with the heat inside her body...? 

The feelers massaging her nipples pick up the pace and she squirms and squeals.  

“You can’t do thaaaa...!” She lets out another moan as the tentacle massaging her pussy kneads gently about her clit. It’s warmer and far better than any finger, thicker and stronger than a dildo, and all the little nubs and feelers are sending jolts of electricity right into her head. She tilts her head back and tries to hold it in, but is getting harder and harder.  

And then something pricks the side of her neck. 

“Fucker! Wha... wh...” She cannot even finish the phrase as a wonderful warmth spreads from there, coursing like liquid fire all over her body and and... and... she can feel it! Every single detail! The rough texture of the tentacles massaging her body, the soft underbelly of the monster as it wraps even tighter, every jolt of pleasure running up her body as the appendages coaxes her into ever higher arousal... even the wind is enough to send her pussy into overload. “I won’t... I won’t lose to this,” she says trying to fight it, to keep her legs together.  

It cannot be over just like that. She... She’s the Commander! She has a position, slave-girls, half a castle all to herself! She is supposed to be the main character in this new world, to be the greatest, the luckiest, the strongest! How can she lose to something like... like... the amazing feeling of these feelers going up inside her pussy, a tiny tentacle teasing her anus, a promise of even more pleasure, another one gently pushing into her mouth so that she cannot say anything, as she feels it enter inside her, spread apart her pussy and her throat alike, pushing inside deep and unyielding and rimmed with all these tiny dots of pleasure that hit her tongue and make her pussy squeeze them like a wet fist... 

She... she won’t lose to tentacles! 

She can’t, can she? 

“See, that’s the thing he does best, isn’t that right buddy?” The redhead puts her hands over her breasts, massaging them further. “You have a beautiful body, my dear Stray. I wonder how we can put it to use. As soon as you are made pliable enough.” 

She should be fighting this! But the tentacle pushing in and out of her pussy is so big and so amazing, pushing her labia open like it’s nothing, its bulge visible even from the outside as it squirms inside her pussy, in and out, in and out, giving her no respite. And the feelers and the damn redhead’s fingers playing with her breasts and... and the way the tentacle fucking her mouth it making her feel, like an object for pleasure, a thing fit for cumming and breeding and little more, maybe nothing more... and there’s also the smaller tentacle playing with her butt, playfully slapping her cheeks. They wobble so enticingly that the tentacle monster pushes the tip past her anus and she squirms and arches her back (however little she can, caught in its grip as she is), and she groans as it all comes together, and she tries to hold it in, she really does, but it’s too strong and too much all at once and the first orgasm spearheads through her body like a lance of pure pleasure and she can’t do anything but groan and yowl and coo as she rolls her eyes back and lets the wave of pleasure rock back and forth inside her body.  

“That’s a good girl,” the Knight mocks her. A small, lost part of herself still feels anger, but it’s just a speck awash in an ocean of pleasure and the fucking resumes. She wobbles in the air, held up by the tentacles as they do as they please with her body, switching places between her pussy and her throat so that she’s forced to taste herself, to feel her juices run down her tongue and know she’s too wet for any kind of resistance, she’s too weak and with every push of the rimmed tentacle up her pussy and up her butt any chance she can recover from this crumbles into nothingness.  
 
Soon enough the once-proud Commander of Ostrea is a broken doll lulled back and forth by the tentacles spit roasting her, umping down her throat and up her pussy, as she cums and writhes and cums again, trying to hold it in but to no avail, unable to stop or even slow down the orgasms running through her body. Her mind is nothing but pleasure.  

The upper tentacle begins to come out of her mouth and she tries to keep it in.  

“More... please...” she mutters, unable to think of anything else, and soon enough another tentacle slithers in to take its place.  

Fuck me more, is all she can think about.  

The tentacles are happy to oblige. They turn her over and fuck her more, switching between appendages and holes like she’s nothing more than a fuck-toy. And in the end, that’s the fate of the once-feared Commander. 

“Fuck... me... fuck me fuck me,” she groans, spread-eagled, panting and red in the face, covered in juices. The Tentacle Knight withdraws her hands from her breasts to knead her own. A smirk spread all over her face.  

“What did I tell you? And now... I suppose I have to decide what to do with you.” 

She does not reply. The tentacles slowly put her down on the vitrified crater’s floor as she writhes and squirms, her hands stroking smaller appendages like twin cocks, trying to entice them to fuck her.  

What should we do with her? 

“I have a couple ideas...” 

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