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Thunder in the distance.
Joe looked up. The horizon — a split between the gray of decaying grass and the gray of permanently overcast sky — was flickering with lightening. Another blast of thunder. That distinctive rolling boom was one of the few things that could pierce through the sound-veil of his gasmask. His faceplate briefly fogged up as he let loose a sigh of irritation — a micro-storm was on the way; he would have to work quickly.
Looking back down and pulling a weathered scalpel from his utility belt, he hovered the blade over a blue, pulsating, watermelon-sized blob. Its skin was subtly wrinkled and tough like leather, but translucent like a jelly fish's bell.
Joe brought the scalpel down and pierced the top of the blob. It made a quick hiss, like the sound of a skunk's spray, then started to deflate. Before all the air was lost, Joe slid the scalpel down to get a hand-sized slit before using his sweatshirt to wipe off the clear gunk that had accumulated on the blade. He replaced the scalpel onto his belt before retrieving a field sample baggie and turning it inside out on his hand. He dipped his plastic-covered hand inside the deflating blob and scooped up a sample of what was inside — a transparent jelly filled with nuggets that looked like blue pomegranate seeds.
After sealing up the bag and hastily labeling it with masking tape and marker, he plopped it into his belt-pack and stood up. Shaking the strain out of his legs, he walked out of the field of blue-blobs, watching his step to make sure he didn't kick any of them — the gasmask was enough to keep him safe if they were dormant or surgically opened, but if one of them were to be forcefully popped. . . Well, he'd just be glad that he brought along his sawed-off. To reassure himself, he pulled the weapon out from its holster on his back. It was so cobbled-together and worn that it rattled like a gun out of a poorly-researched action flick, but that didn't stop it from making Joe feel secure.
Fortunately — in the immediate present, at least — the weapon was unneeded; Joe made his way out of the blue-blob field without any screw-ups. Regardless, the sawed-off stayed at his hip as he wandered into a grove of bleached, leafless chestnut trees. As he walked along, he occasionally bent down and retrieved his neon-colored guide bolts — a faux-steampunk version of Hansel's white pebbles. Joe had been doing amateur fieldwork in the Tarnished Hills for close to five years (the average was one and a half), but even he knew that relying on a mental map when traversing the graying fields was as stupid as sending a musical greeting card to a deaf loved one. The land had a way of changing itself. Or perhaps it had a way of changing a person's mental map. Joe thought he'd need another twenty years of research before he could find out which it was.
Unfortunately — in the very immediate present — Joe was about to find out that he wouldn't get another day of research, to say nothing of twenty years. While he was thinking over the mysteries of the shifting landscape of Tarnished Hills, he wandered into a clearing. A clearing with a very conspicuous olive-green root running across its middle. A root that Joe, lost in his ponderings, blindly stepped on. A root that wasn't a root.
With a quiet rumble of shifting earth, the root-that-wasn't-a-root whipped up from the ground and coiled around Joe's leg. He barely had time to widen his eyes before another root-that-was-actually-a-tentacle shot up and wrapped around his other leg. Joe managed to get the "SH" in 'shit' before his feet were yanked out from underneath him. He hit the ground hard — the only thing keeping the back of his head from being bashed in were a pair of tentacles that wriggled up from the ground, cushioning his fall. Another pair pierced the dirt and trussed up his arms, one of them coiling around his weapon, wrenching it from his hand, and tossing it away.
"No, no, no!" Joe said, kicking his legs and thrashing his arms. The tentacles held fast, keeping a gentle, but unbreakable grip on his limbs. As Joe growled and struggled, another tentacle shot up from the ground. Unlike the others, which were as smooth as a snake's underbelly, this one had octopodic suckers on its underside. It used them to latch onto Joe's faceplate and tear off his gasmask. He blinked and narrowed his eyes against the cool, damp air of the Tarnished Hills. He could have been thankful that he was outside of the blue-blob danger zone, but — seeing his current predicament — it was understandable that thankfulness was one of the many things outside of his mind; people wrapped up by serpentine constricting limbs tended to be short on gratitude.
Not that said serpentine constricting limbs were being overtly violent. In fact, as Joe's thrashing settled down, he found that they were being overtly affectionate. The tentacles coiled around his arms were teasing his palms with their nubby ends, making his fingers twitch and his hands tremble. The tentacles wrapped around his legs were gently undulating, massaging his skin through his jeans and sending waves of sensation from his thighs to his ankles. Even the tentacles that had popped up to cushion his head were playing with his body, one of them slipping down his shirt and lapping at his shoulder blades while the other rubbed its soft, tender skin back and forth against the nape of his neck.
Now just as confused as he was terrified, Joe glanced around, his breath coming out in uneasy rhythm as his eyes flitted from tentacle to tentacle. He tried to bring his hand up, but the feeler wrapped around his arm firmly pulled it back down before it resumed its teasing. Joe's brow furrowed. "What in the name of—"
Whose name Joe held with such importance remained a mystery. He was interrupted by another earthen rumble as the ground to his left opened like a molehill. His captor popped out.
It was a woman. At least her top half certainly was. She had skin as olive-green as the tentacles binding Joe's limbs, with matching locks of wavy, moss-green, waist-length hair. Though she had been hidden underground, her skin looked smooth and clean — the last few specks of dirt rolling off of her like she was an earthen version of hydrophobic (edaphobic?). She boasted a huge pair of breasts, bouncing with her motion and leaking with her nectar — the twin trails of shining fluid following the curve of her underboob before dripping off onto her smooth belly. Below her belly and beneath her shapely hips, her legs split off into a multitude of smooth tentacles, all of them gently wriggling about as they punctured the ground like so many tree roots. Besides her legs, her arms were missing as well, replaced by two slender tentacles that ended in collections of gentle, prodding nubs that looked eager to tease whatever tiny, sensitive projections they could find. Her eyes were closed when she arose, but after a moment of grace, she opened them. She looked at Joe. She smiled a great big smile, her emerald-green eyes shining.
"Ah... A lovely, handsome visitor..."
Not giving him a chance to correct her on all three points, the tentacle-girl pulled Joe off the ground, all of her tentacles rising up out of the soil and carrying him closer to his captor. Along the way, they attacked his clothes, carefully ripping and grasping and pulling until he was naked and shivering in front of her. Unable to cover his slowly thickening cock, he tried to suppress his shameful urges and look away from the stacked, slender beauty in front of him, but the tentacles behind his head corrected his view, making sure he got a good look at her huge, swaying tits and the nectar that dribble from her stiffening nipples. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes against that mouthwatering view.
The tentacle-girl giggled at his stare. "The handsome visitor knows what he likes." She sent out her arm tentacle, the nubby end sliding up the trail of nectar on her breasts before twisting through the air and resting on Joe's glans. He gasped and cringed back as the tiny, tender nubs rubbed around the sensitive bit of skin, spreading her tingly nectar with tiny squelches until his dick was hard and his tip was shining with both nectar and precum. With that accomplished, she pulled back her teasing tentacle and brought forth another tentacle — this one had an underside that was not smooth or suckered, but filled with tiny brush-like tongues that seemed to wriggle in excitement as the limb came near to Joe's cock. His eyes widened at the sight of it.
"N-No, no," he moaned, uselessly trying to pull his hips away while the other tentacles held firm. "D-Don't... stop... get that fucking vile thing away from meeeaaahn!"
Heedless of his wishes, the tentacle-girl wrapped her brushing limb around his dick, covering it from sack to tip with her little licking feelers. Joe titled his head back and clenched his teeth, biting back a moan of bliss. As uncouth as the tentacle had looked, once the feelers had his hot, twitching cock surrounded, the feeling of its hundred caresses made it seem as beautiful and harmless as the hand of a trusted lover. The entire tentacle pulsed and rippled up and down his shaft, pushing in and egging on the hundreds of little licking feelers as they coated every inch of his dick with loving kisses. The heat. The softness. The tenderness. All of it centered around his groin and slickening up his cock with tentacular love.
Breathless, Joe glanced at the tentacle-girl. She was beaming, watching his reactions with a glee he would almost call childish, had not been for the amorous, dark-green blush on her face, or the way she gently bit her lower lip while she teased her own nipple with her arm tentacle. "Ahn," she sighed, "so long... it's been so long since I've seen a happy face." She sent out her other arm tentacle and had it latch its nubs onto Joe's stiffening nipple. He gave a shrieking moan behind his locked lips. The tentacle-girl giggled. "I wonder how happy I can make you... I'll make you as happy as I can!"
"Nuh-no, wait, I—" Joe said, but lapsed back into suppressed moans as the limb cocooning his cock started vibrating along with its coiling and licking. It made his hips buck and his back arch — the sensation was just so overwhelming. As he writhed in pleasure, his captor drew him closer, more of her tentacles rising up and wrapping around him in an affectionate embrace. Feelers crawled across and tickled his belly. Nubs traced the furrow on his spine and played across the small of his back. More brush tentacles slapped onto his skin, covering it with vibrating licks that melted his mind like shining summer sun.
"You're so handsome," the tentacle-girl whispered as she held Joe close, "and you have the cutest face when you're happy... I wonder how cute it will be when you cum..."
Joe moaned a wordless response. He was getting close, certainly. The brush around his cock and balls was vibrating and licking hard enough to make his eyes water with overwhelming pleasure — he could already feel release building within. He closed his eyes and arched his back again, thrusting his hips forward as they trembled in the caress of the brush tentacle.
But before he came, the tentacle-girl unwrapped his cock. Joe only had a moment to be confused before yet another kind of tentacle sped at his groin. This one had a bulbous, flower-like ending to it — the wet, fleshy petals opening up to reveal a pussy-like organ that trembled and pulsated with an inhuman thirst. It impaled itself on Joe's cock with a loud, lewd squish. Strands of pussy juice leaked out as it clamped its petals around his groin and began to pump and milk his dick with rhythmic squelches.
Joe couldn't hold back from that. He let loose a shout of ecstasy as he came, his cock jumping and twitching inside the pumping organ as his dick jetted cum. The tentacle-girl let out a ecstatic sigh of her own as she watched him fill up her pussy with his juicy load, every spurt sucked up and swallowed by the ruthless pumping of the organ.
"Sooo cuuute..." she whispered, brushing and caressing Joe's body with her other tentacles while her pussy sucked up the last of his cum. After the last spurt, his head tilted forward as he sighed, his head still abuzz with the high of pleasure.
"Whuh... why thi—" he began, but was cut off as an arm tentacle cupped his chin and gently closed his mouth.
"Aaaw," the tentacle-girl said. "already tired? But there's so much more to be happy about!" She giggled. "Don't worry. I can make you ready to be happy again..."
Keeping the pumping organ on his half-limp cock, she brought Joe closer to her human half, her giant tits still dribbling with nectar. Before he could voice an objection, she propped up her breast with one tentacle while the other eased open his mouth. She hugged him close and forced her nectar-leaking nipples right between his lips.
Joe closed his eyes and tried to lean back, but the tentacles held him firm. No matter what he tried, he couldn't stop that nectar from dripping onto his tongue. It was sweet. Sweeter that anything he had eaten before, yet carrying a hint of sourness and a dash of savory creaminess that didn't make the sweetness overpowering. Despite his last inklings of disgusting, he found himself licking and suckling the tentacle-girl's nipple, urging out more of the delicious nectar until it filled his mouth to the cheeks. She giggled and cooed with every lick and suck, more of her tentacles wrapping around and hugging him close while she breastfed him.
"Come on," she whispered, giving him an affectionate squeeze all around, "swallow it... it'll make you happy."
Joe did as he was told and gulped down the nectar. The effects were instant. His cock, almost fully limp despite being massaged and pumped by the tentacle pussy, shot back up; he was hard as rock once more. Even his balls didn't feel the sting of rushed refraction — they only felt full and ready to give. He moaned into the tentacle-girl's nipple, the pleasure returning to him like an aftershock as the organ on his cock continued to wetly suck and pump his dick.
"That's it," his captor whispered, "Now we can have fun and make you happy for as long as we want. I'll get to see your cute face over and over and over again..." Her tentacles tightened even more, hugging Joe to her lactating bosom like a rubbery cocoon. He couldn't move. He couldn't struggle. He could only moan and gently buck his hips as his captor caressed and fed him, her tentacle pussy pumping at his juice and cum-slicked cock.
The tentacle-girl giggled as he came again, her flower-like organ bulging with his seed. "It's alright," she said, lovingly running a brush up and down Joe's back. "We can stop if you want but, until then...
I want to see as much of your happy face as you can show, okay?"
