Having a mad scientist for a best friend can be hard. When Imogen drags Ann to her lab to reveal her latest invention, a swarming orgy of mechanical tentacles, Ann feels lust like never before as she sees her wildest fantasy come to life before her eyes. But did Imogen bring her out to show off, or to use her as a test subject? Warning! 3200 words of F/f bondage, DP, and ravenous tentacles!
“Wow!” No attempt to feign surprise or interest this time. “So they already work?”
“Well, yes and no.” Imogen made patterns in the air with her left hand like some alien sign language, and the tentacle rose up into the air before Ann’s face. “My first version of the control software was pretty rough. Crude, inarticulate movement? No problem. Finer control of one at a time? Totally doable.” She showed off as she spoke, sending a rippling wave down the tentacle, then curling it into a tight corkscrew. Ann had to admit that it was very impressive. She had no idea how complicated it must be to make this all work with nothing but a few small gestures, but if anyone could puzzle it out, it was Imogen. “And for some applications, that’s all I need. Disasters, where you need to haul out chunks of rubble or rip off car doors, construction, heavy industry; hell, I could replace an entire automotive assembly line with a couple sets of these babies.”
Ann watched as the corkscrew unwound into a lazy string, moving with a slow, fluid grace in the air. Now it looked almost alive. “But finer movement?” The tip slowly reached forward, and Ann, entranced, reached up her hand, as though she were making contact with some being from another world. “That’s been out of my grasp for a while.” The tip curled around Ann’s outstretched finger in a gentle, feather-light caress. “But I think I’ve got it now.” The tentacle, continued, wrapping itself along her palm and circling around her wrist like a delicate bracelet. She stared, mouth agape with wonderment. “And that’s why I dragged you down here this morning.”
Ann had been so enthralled by the tentacle dancing before her that she hadn’t noticed Imogen was moving more of the long, think ones, until they wrapped around her ankles and her waist. “Wait, what?” She tried to take a step back, but she found that their grip was firm, and unbreakable. “What are you doing?” Panic crept into her voice, but desire blossomed in her damp pussy.
“See, I found that folder on your computer a while ago, the one with all those pictures and video clips, and it gave me an idea.” She said with a manic grin. “Well, a bunch of ideas, actually, but one in particular.”
“What- how?” Ann sputtered and struggled. She dug the balls of her feet into the ground, trying for purchase on the concrete floor to let her escape, but all she did was slide ineffectually. “I have a password!”
Imogen scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, twenty eight characters isn’t remotely secure.”
“Well that’s - aah!” Ann screamed as she began to float gently off the ground, making running impossible. The tentacles were holding her suspended in the air, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
Problem was, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to do anything about it.
About Justine Snowe
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Published August 20, 2012
Erotica, Literature & Fiction, Gay & Lesbian.