Every night, this dream. Maybe I'm ill, maybe my dream, and my sweat, and my lassitude are caused by fever. But I dream of cold, not heat.
The nerves of my legs can't distinguish what is touching me. Movement and temperature are clear. Size. Something cold and thick as my wrist, coiling around my legs, first the left and then the right. I shiver with the chill. Both legs have been wrapped with several loops, from ankle to thigh. Another cold appendage snakes around my waist.
The lifting and spreading of my legs feels inevitable. Yes, I knew this would happen. If only I could remember what happens next. If only I could open my eyes, I could see what's holding me. If only I could open my mouth, I could scream.
For a moment, nothing happens. I'm held, knees apart, feet high. I'm shivering. Involuntary movement is the only movement I'm capable of. Then something presses against my lips. My mouth opens (did I just wish for my mouth to open?) and is immediately filled. My tongue feels scales, smoothly tessellated My teeth feel unyielding flesh. The back of my throat is touched, and I gag. The invader draws back, then moves forward again into my throat. I struggle for air. Except, since I'm paralyzed by sleep, there's not much in the way of fight in me. I hope for air. My lungs contract and release spasmodically. My body tingles with heat and cold. I wonder if I'm dying. The Thing makes way for a gasping breath.
I've decided to call it the Thing. Though there's really no reason to assume it's all one being. It could be a dozen snake-like creatures, or several squid. But this level of thought is beyond me. It's a thing, The Thing, and I am utterly at its mercy.
As my lungs pull in a blessed breath, I feel another tentacle-arm between my legs. A pressure, and it's inside me. It fills me deeply and completely. It's cold as ice against my warm insides, an agonizing cold I can do nothing to resist.
In another moment, and my anus is similarly invaded. The Thing's progress inside me is swift. I am afraid it will not stop, that it will freeze and break my intestines. It does stop, though. I can feel it behind my belly. My body quivers with cold. My jaw aches, and I know my teeth would be chattering if there weren't a tentacle in their way.
I almost laugh. It's ridiculous. I'm going to freeze to death in my sleep, penetrated by some kind of alien octopus. This dream, this hallucination--it's going to kill me. Then it begins. The tentacles inside me throb and twist and pulsate. My legs are forced further apart, and I feel a second tentacle attempting to join the first inside my cunt. My ass is being stretched further, too, and the appendage in my throat is intermittently cutting off my breath again.
It comes to my attention that I'm incredibly aroused. I'm drooling and gagging and choking. I'm utterly immobilized Some alien creature has me completely in its power. And I'm hopelessly turned on.
It doesn't help that the tentacles seem to be vibrating, now, too. Twisting and turning, expanding and contracting, hitting nerves I never knew I had. I can't tell anymore if it's cold or heat that I feel. It burns and I burn around it. I'm thankful for the way the Thing is pumping my legs up and apart, a substitute for the thrusting my body aches to participate in. I'm being squeezed tightly, as if by a boa constrictor. Pleasure explodes through me, racing from the base of my spine to my fingertips. My womb convulses and my feet cramp. The tentacle in my mouth disengages but I still can't scream. I grunt, over and over, as my orgasm goes on and on and on.
And then, nothing. Sleep? Some blank darkness without thought, brought to an end by the shrill of my alarm clock.
Like every morning lately, the sheets are soaked. My hair sticks to my forehead. I move groggily towards the shower.
This story inspired by Tentacle: A Definition by Will Crimson