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.
‧ . ‿̩͙⊱༻♕༺⊰‿̩͙ . ‧
The intrusion was sudden, shocking in its fullness.
A sharp, burning stretch tore through him, forcing a ragged gasp from his lips.
’It’s inside. It’s actually inside me.’ The thought was a clinical, distant observation, detached from the raw physical reality of being breached.
The initial pain was bright and searing, a protest from a part of his body never meant for this.
’I feel like I’m going to die.’ Amethiel thought, his body shivering.
But Kree did not stop.
The tentacle pushed deeper, a slow, relentless invasion that felt impossibly thick.
Amethiel’s body clenched around it instinctively, trying to expel the foreign presence.
It was a futile, automatic response. The slick, cool lubricant coating the appendage eased its passage, and as the initial sting began to recede, it was replaced by a deep, filling pressure that stole his breath.
Then it moved.
"A-Ah...ah..."
A slow, torturous withdrawal, then a push back in.
The texture of the tentacle was not smooth; it had subtle, ridged bands that rubbed against his inner walls with devastating precision on every stroke.
A broken moan, wet and helpless, bubbled out of him.
’This is sex. Right? It isn’t using his...penis, but is...isn’t this considered sex?’
Was he actually having sex with a Monster?
Something he owned?
And why was he moaning?
The shame was a hot, liquid weight in his gut, but it was drowned by a wave of sensation so intense it blurred his vision.
The tentacle around his length tightened and stroked in time with the thrusts, creating a devastating rhythm.
The suction on his nipple returned, sharper now, a sweet, piercing pull that seemed connected by a live wire to his groin.
He was being played, expertly, from three points at once, and his body was singing a chorus of surrender.
"K-Kree..." Amethiel whispers, he didn’t know why. He was in between wanting to tell it to stop and wanting to tell it to keep going.
Why did he want it to keep going?
He didn’t actually like this. Right?
Kree pulled him closer, the muscular arms shifting their grip from his wrists to wrap around his torso, holding him flush.
They were eye to eye. Amethiel stared into Kree’s pupil-less dark eyes, seeing only his own reflection—flushed, sweaty, mouth agape.
The creature’s expression was one of intense, focused satisfaction. The glowing cracks in its skin pulsed with a steady, rhythmic light, a visual echo of the thrusts inside him.
’It’s watching me.’ The realization should have horrified him.
Instead, a strange, hot thrill spiked through the shame.
His scientific mind, though fogged, clung to the data point: Kree derives pleasure from my pleasure.
"Amethiel..." Kree hissed, the word a vibration more than a sound. Its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air near Amethiel’s parted lips.
Amethiel couldn’t answer. His head lolled back as another deep thrust hit a spot inside him that made his whole body jolt.
A sharp, electric cry was torn from his throat. ’There. Right there.’ Every nerve ending was alight.
’No, what am I thinking? No...no...’
The pain was a memory, completely overwritten by a pleasure so profound it felt like agony of a different kind.
He was writhing, not to escape, but to seek more, to force that textured tentacle to grind against that perfect, maddening spot again.
His hips began to move of their own accord, meeting each inward slide with a desperate push back.
The grip on his torso tightened, Kree’s low purr deepening into a continuous, approving rumble.
The tentacle on his penis moved faster, its textured surface milking him with ruthless efficiency. Pre-cum leaked freely, making the glide slick and obscene.
"Ah...ah...agh..."
The stimulation was too much, everywhere at once. The suction on his nipple, the deep, filling thrusts, the tight, pulling friction on his cock.
It was a sensory overload, short-circuiting every thought except the need for release. Tears welled in his eyes, stinging as they traced tracks through the sweat on his temples.
’This is degrading. This is the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.’ The two truths coexisted, twisting together inside him.
"K-Kree..." he choked out, the name a plea for mercy or for more, he didn’t know.
The creature seemed to take it as encouragement.
The thrusts became harder, faster, the tentacle inside him swelling slightly, stretching him even more fully.
The new pressure triggered a clenching, rhythmic pulse deep in his core, a prelude to an orgasm that was building like a tidal wave.
"Kree...stop...faster...no...yes..." He was babbling, nonsense words and half-formed protests that dissolved into gasps and moans.
He was going to come. He was going to come from being fucked by a tentacle monster, held in the air like a doll, and the thought finally shattered the last of his resistance.
The shame burned away, consumed by the sheer, overwhelming need.
But as Amethiel felt himself nearing the edge, his breath uneven and thoughts scattered, the tentacles around his wrist began to loosen, just slightly.
It was enough.
Enough for his mind to catch up.
Amethiel’s gaze flickered downward, catching sight of the vials scattered across the floor, the ones Kree had carelessly knocked aside earlier.
’It’s not there...’
Of course it wasn’t.
Kree wouldn’t know.
Wouldn’t remember it because Amethiel hasn’t used it yet.
For the past few days, Amethiel had been working on something else entirely. Something beyond the usual tools he used for control.
Something harsher.
’I told myself this was for emergencies.’
His chest rose and fell quickly, the tension in his body building, almost overwhelming.
Well—
This was an emergency.
’Damn it... How did I almost forget?’
The realization came just in time.
With a sharp inhale, Amethiel forced his arm free, wrenching it out of Kree’s hold. He stumbled slightly but didn’t stop, his hand already digging into the inner pocket of his ruined coat.
His fingers found it.
The vial.
Infused with diamond dust, refined to hold something far more volatile than his usual mixtures.
’This is going to hurt,’ Amethiel thought, his breathing still uneven as he pulled the cork free.
There was no hesitation after that.
He threw the liquid straight at Kree.
The reaction was immediate.
The moment the substance made contact, the tentacles recoiled violently, their grip disappearing as if burned away.
A faint hiss filled the air as thin trails of smoke rose from Kree’s skin.
"AGHHH—!"
Kree’s scream tore through the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body convulsing as he staggered back. "RAAHHH—! MASTER—MASTER—!"
The sound echoed, strained and broken.
Amethiel hit the ground hard as the hold on him vanished, his body still tense as he forced himself upright.
"Damn it..." he groaned under his breath, pushing himself up with shaking arms.
Behind him, Kree continued to writhe, the pain clearly overwhelming as his movements turned erratic.
"AHHHHHH—!"
"Advanced acid," Amethiel muttered, his voice rough as he caught his breath. He glanced back at Kree, eyes sharp despite everything. "After I realized your skin behaves similarly to a human’s, just... much, much denser, I developed something that could break it down."
There was frustration in his tone now.
Anger.
Not just at Kree—
In the situation.
At himself.
He turned his head sharply toward the door, raising his voice.
"JOHNSON! LANCER! ANYONE!" he shouted. "I NEED HELP!"