Try to mentally resist the pleasure

A tentacle breeding nest below the sewers, Tentacle Sewers, at 6:50 AM on Monday, January 15, 2024

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You try to wrench your thoughts away from the physical—from the thick appendage stretching your cunt, from the one invading your ass, from the one sliding over your tongue. Think of something else. Anything else. Math equations. Your old apartment. The subway route to Akihabara. Anything but—

But your traitorous mind doesn't go there. Instead it conjures up the college girl from that one doujin, the one where she got caught by tentacles in the biology lab after hours. You remember every panel. How they suspended her just like this, spreading her thick thighs wide. How that first tentacle pushed into her virgin pussy so slowly, stretching her pink lips obscenely around its girth. How her eyes went wide and then rolled back as it penetrated deeper, deeper, until it kissed her cervix and she started begging—"Please, no, not inside, I'll get pregnant!"—but it pushed through anyway and flooded her fertile womb with gallons of thick seed. Your pussy clamps down HARD around the breeding tentacle at the memory. A muffled moan escapes around the appendage in your mouth. Your runic tattoos explode with crimson brilliance, and you feel your cervix dilate further, opening like a flower for the invader.

"Fuck," you think desperately, "Don't think about that—"

But now you're remembering the sequel. The same girl, belly already swollen with the first clutch of eggs, getting dragged back down for round two. Three tentacles in her cunt at once that time, stretching her so wide you could see inside her, see them penetrating straight into her womb. Her ahegao face, tongue lolling out, eyes crossed, as they pumped load after load into her already-gravid belly until she looked nine months pregnant with twins.

Your hips buck involuntarily, actually trying to take the tentacle deeper. The one in your ass responds by surging forward, burying two more inches into your tight rear channel. You can feel them both inside you, separated only by that thin wall of flesh, and your mind immediately recalls that cross-section doujin panel—the anatomical view showing exactly how the tentacles deformed the girl's insides, how they pressed against each other through the internal walls.

"Stop! Think of something boring! Think of—"

The shrine maiden. The one with the twin-tail hair who got ambushed during her purification ritual. How the tentacles stripped away her ceremonial hakama and violated her right there on the sacred altar. How she struggled at first, crying about her sacred duty and her purity, but by the third tentacle sliding into her mouth she was sucking eagerly, cheeks hollowed, drool running down her chin. By the fifth load pumped into her pussy she was screaming "Breed me! Make me your seedbed!" between orgasmic convulsions. The pressure against your cervix increases. The tentacle is applying steady **** now, and your curse-addled body is surrendering to it. The tight ring of muscle stretches, dilates, begins to give way. You can feel the exact moment when the tip breaches it—a sudden yielding sensation, a feeling of being penetrated in a place nothing should ever reach.

"Oh god oh god oh god—" Your thoughts spiral into panic, but your body arches in ecstasy.

Then the memories come faster. The office lady gangbanged by tentacles in the parking garage. The android girl whose tentacle maintenance went horribly wrong. The magical girl whose transformation got interrupted mid-sequence. The swim team captain pulled under the pool. The teacher who stayed late to grade papers. Every single scenario you ever came to, flooding your consciousness all at once.

And in every single one, the girl came. Hard. Screaming. Mind breaking. Cumming so hard her body convulsed and her eyes rolled back and her tongue lolled out and her pussy gushed and squirted around the tentacles violating her.

The breeding tentacle slides another inch into your womb. You can feel it inside that sacred space now, feel it pulsing, swelling, preparing to release. The appendage in your ass is pumping steadily, creating obscene wet sounds. The one in your mouth pushes deeper, making you gag, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. Your clit throbs desperately, untouched, begging for stimulation. And as if sensing your need, a fourth tentacle—thinner, more delicate—rises up between your spread thighs and wraps around that swollen pearl of nerves. The contact is electric.

The orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

Your entire body convulsions in the tentacles' grip. Your pussy clamps down vice-tight around the invader in your cunt, and you feel it respond by thrusting DEEP, burying itself fully in your womb. Your ass spasms around its occupant. Your throat works reflexively around the appendage face-fucking you. And then you feel it—hot, thick fluid flooding into your womb in massive spurts. The tentacle is cumming inside you, pumping what feels like gallons of seed directly into your most fertile place.

"MMMMMPH!" Your scream is muffled by the tentacle in your mouth, which chooses that moment to release as well, flooding your throat with its own load. You're **** to swallow reflexively, gulp after gulp of the thick, slightly sweet fluid.

Your vision goes white. Your mind shatters into pure sensation. Every nerve ending in your body fires at once. Your massive tits bounce wildly as you convulse. Your thick thighs tremble uncontrollably. And through it all, you can feel your womb being filled, stretched, bloated with impossible volumes of potent tentacle seed.

When your vision clears, you're still suspended, still impaled on three tentacles. But now your belly has a visible swell to it—not huge yet, but definitely there, pressing against the remains of your torn blouse. The runic tattoos are pulsing in a new rhythm, and you realize with numb horror that your curse is already working. The seed is taking. You're pregnant.

Minutes after being bred, and you're already fucking pregnant.

The tentacles begin to move again, slowly withdrawing. The one in your womb slides out with an obscene wet sound, followed by a gush of excess cum that splatters against the nest floor. The one in your ass pulls free. The one in your mouth finally releases you, and you gasp for air, coughing and sputtering.

But they don't let you go. They adjust their grip, repositioning you. And you see with dawning horror that a fresh tentacle is rising up between your legs—this one even thicker than the last.

"Round... two..." the collective gurgles. "Many... more... after..."

Your pussy is still twitching from the orgasm, still gushing cum, and the new tentacle positions itself at your entrance.