Under The Tabletop

>"As the beast's long, thick tentacles ensnare you, pulling you down into the inky black water, you feel the kiss of its suckers tasting your skin. What do you do?"
>Body shuddering, hands shaking, you struggle to hold eye contact with your tormentor.
>Cthrine's dark eyes are steady and unwavering as she looks at you from over her GM's screen at the opposite end of the table.
>There's a smile there, which is impressive for someone with such an alien facial configuration.
>Head propped on her hands, elbows resting on her table, she looks the very picture of a poised gamemaster.
>Appearances are deceiving.
>Hidden behind her screen, you can't see what's going on with her tentacles, but you can guess.
>You'd felt them creeping up your pant legs first, coiling around your calves and up your thighs.
>You would have jumped out of your seat if they hadn't held you down.
>Then the creeping tendrils of your host, stretching a distance you didn't know they could, made shot wok of your legwear.
>Unzipping and stripping with precision and ease unknown to any mere cephalopod, tugging away your underwear, and leaving your nethers exposed.
>Now the slithering, writhing coils of Cthrine mercilessly toy with you, fondling and squeezing your flesh.
>Working your shaft, caressing your sack, slipping beneath you, prodding your entrance, all under her knowing gaze.
>You can barely think, let alone play.
>"Well?" She asks innocently, as though she isn't molesting you savagely.
>How is she even speaking? Does she need her tentacles to talk? Is she psychic? Can she read your mind?
>"Do you perhaps surrender to the beast?" She asks. Her suckers massage your balls with dozens of carefully sequenced kisses. "Accept the futility of your struggle and offer yourself to the dark?"
"I-I-I," You stutter, fighting as hard as you can, "T-try to b-b-break fffree."
>"Strength check. Roll it."
>It's less a roll and more you fumbling the die in your limp hand.
>The length of muscular, green flesh twined around your cock has synched itself with the one prodding at your back door, pushing and pulling at you.
>Your head is blanking out, and you can see that she's only getting more enjoyment out of it.
>The die stills on the tabletop.
>"Read it." She orders, pulsing her tendrils, making you squirm.
>You can't make words. The intruder at your rear dips inside as its twin strangling your dick gives a potent squeeze and tug.
"F-f-f-f-f-fff," You manage, but it's too little, too late. Your dam breaks under the assault, and you lose yourself to her. "Fffuuuccckkk."
>Fat ropes of jizzum burst out of you, quickly captured by attentive tentacles eagerly milking your length.
>You gasp and buck into them, mind empty save for the desire to give more.
>After what may have been a few seconds or the rest of time, you are spent.
>A bundle of tendrils snake away under the table, leaving the bulk of her playful coils with you.
>Cthrine's eyes shut as she slurps and suckles behind the screen, delighting in her treat.
>"Mmm." She opens her eyes again, regarding you warmly. "You're not Doritos, but you taste pretty good."
>She winks.
>You collapse on the table, exhausted, gasping for breath.
>After a minute of silence, with nothing save the caress of her tentacles on your mind, she speaks again.
>"Seriously, though. What's your guy do? 'Cause I'm gonna start taking HP here in a second."