Content Warning: This Chapter contains dark themes, including power imbalance, coercion, and situations that may involve questionable or not fully consensual interactions.
Reader discretion is advised.
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Amethiel hung suspended in the air, his heart pounding as Kree’s tentacles coiled around him with possessive firmness.
At first, he tried to remain calm, letting the creature explore as he mentally noted its movements.
’It’s not attacking,’ he thought, forcing himself to breathe evenly. ’It mostly looks curious.’
Amethiel still had his vials in case he did get attacked, but this was something new, and as much as it was intimidating.
It was still something worth observing.
The tentacles roamed over his clothed body, their slippery, cool touch sending shivers up his spine.
’This does feel a bit...odd though.’
One coiled around his thigh, another slid up his back, and a third pressed flat against his abdomen.
The sensation was strange, almost degrading, but Amethiel found himself oddly fascinated.
He had spent so much time observing Kree; now, the roles were reversed.
A tentacle circled his nipple through his shirt, and he stiffened. "Oh...Oh wow."
The touch on his chest focused, a single tentacle tip circling his nipple through the fabric of his shirt.
’What is it doing?’
Then it pressed, and a strange, suctioning pressure began.
It wasn’t harsh, but persistent, pulling at the nub until it hardened into a sensitive peak. A sharp, unexpected jolt of pleasure-pain made him gasp.
His back arched involuntarily as pleasure-pain shot through him. ’Why is it just touching there?’ he wondered, his mind racing even as his body responded.
"Okay, that’s enough—" he said, his voice strained.
His heart was beating even harder inside his chest.
But Kree wasn’t listening. The tentacles clutching his coat and shirt tensed, and with a sickening tear, his layers of clothing were ripped away.
"Damn it!" Amethiel exclaims, now a bit more concerned for himself.
Cold air washed over his torso as his coat and shirt fell apart, leaving him exposed.
His hand instinctively went to his inner pocket, but a tentacle was already there, snatching the vial and letting it drop to the floor with a clink.
’No,’ Amethiel thought, panic rising. "Kree, what are you doing? Why...are you doing this?"
Kree pulled him closer, its massive erection pressing insistently against his stomach.
The glowing cracks in its skin pulsed in time with his racing heartbeat, casting eerie shadows across the room.
"Amethiel," Kree whispered, its voice a low, hungry growl that sent a tremor through him.
Its forked tongue flicked out, tracing the line of his jaw in a gesture that felt disturbingly intimate.
’He isn’t curious.’ Amethiel realized his detachment was rumbling.
How could he be so stupid?
Kree’s touches weren’t without meaning; they were–
The tentacles moved again, their touch becoming more purposeful.
One slid down the front of his trousers, cupping him boldly through the fabric. Amethiel cried out, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as pleasure surged through him.
It felt good.
A little too good.
"Kree, stop—" he tried to protest, but his voice lacked conviction.
Another tentacle, thinner and slicker, wormed its way past his waistband and down his lower back, and Amethiel’s eyes widened.
"No... no, absolutely not. Kree, I’m warning you, if you don’t stop right now, I will punish you."
But Kree didn’t understand.
Or...maybe it just didn’t care.
The panic was a cold, sharp thing, slicing through the haze of confusing feelings.
Amethiel felt the slick, cool tip of a tentacle press against the tight furl of his entrance, circling with a maddening, teasing precision.
’Is it actually going to do it?’ His scientific detachment was shattered completely, replaced by a rare human feeling.
"Don’t you dare," he warned, his voice tight.
The command was meant to be more threatening. It came out as a strained whisper.
Kree dared.
Without even a hint of hesitation.
The tip pressed, not breaching, just applying a persistent, slick pressure that made his whole body tense.
"F-Fuck." A choked sound escaped Amethiel’s lips. He tried to clench, to deny the intrusion, but his traitorous body shuddered instead.
And then he moaned.
A loud, broken, utterly foreign sound that echoed in the quiet room. Heat flooded his face.
’What is happening to me?’
Before the shame could fully crest, another sensation seized him.
A different tentacle, this one slightly textured, wrapped firmly around his hardening length. He gasped, hips twitching forward into the contact.
’I’m...hard? How is that possible?’ His mind scrambled for an explanation, but it was sinking into a warm, syrupy fog.
All his intelligence somehow disappeared over...whatever Kree was doing to him.
The tentacle around his penis began to move, a slow, dragging pull from root to tip. It was nothing like his own hurried, functional touch.
This was... practiced.
As if it knew what to do to please Amethiel.
The textured surface created a faint, incredible friction that made his toes curl. ’Did it learn from me? Or did it know what to do in the first place?’
The analytical thought was a faint spark in the gathering storm.
"Kree, stop... please," he pleaded, but the words were weak, breathy.
His protest was undercut by the way his back arched, pushing his rear more firmly against that teasing, circling tip.
It honestly felt humiliating how much his body was responding positively.
The tentacle on his penis tightened its grip just slightly and tugged again, a little harder.
A bolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot up his spine, short-circuiting his thoughts. ’It feels... so much different.’
So much different than when he did it.
His head fell back, and a strangled groan ripped from his throat. His own arousal, thick and leaking, betrayed every word he tried to form.
Kree made a sound above him—a low, rumbling purr of satisfaction.
The vibrations traveled through the tentacles holding him, humming against his skin. The tip at his entrance ceased its circling and pressed again, more insistently.
The slickness there wasn’t just mucus; it was some kind of natural lubricant, cool and slick, easing the way.
"Wait—" Amethiel panted. "No...don’t put it in, Kree–"
Amethiel felt something insert him.