Interview With The Tentacle Demon Chapter 4: Sample
Introduction:
More is learned about the tentacle demon’s biology and its past.
Now that she had crossed that bridge and discovered it to be fantastic, Claire found herself more obsessed and horny for Gruthsorik’s tentacles than before. She wanted to keep some dignity, though, and not just strip and run in there the very next day. Fortunately she had some excuses, she was, after all, doing this for science. She waited a few days just to keep from seeming overeager, and then killed the cameras as she walked into the containment room wearing nothing but a lab coat and a pair of small sensors attached to her temples. The lab coat hung open, revealing glimpses of her breasts as she walked, and fully exposing her pussy.
“Very nice, it suits you,” Gruthsorik said approvingly as she entered the cell. “What are those fancy doodads you have there?”
“Brain activity monitors,” Claire said. “I want to know if I can see anything different going on in there as you siphon off whatever energies it is you like so much.” While the cryptid gene for telepathy was known, the actual mechanism of it was still poorly understood. Watching it in action with another medical marvel from the E.T. Tech R&D team might shed some light. “Could you leave my arms free this time, and let me keep the coat too?”
“Most certainly,” Gruthsorik replied. “I was planning to anyway, I always enjoy a girl in a uniform or costume.”
“Oh really?” Claire asked, curious.
“Most often it’s cheerleaders, I still take their underwear of course, but I leave the skirt be and the top I just push up above their tits. They look so cute getting fucked that way.” Gruthsorik said. “Now go on, spread your legs for me.” Claire widened her stance as a tentacle reached out to her crotch, she moaned as it pushed inside. As it fucked further into her, her legs started to give out, but tentacles snaked around them and supported her before she could fall to the floor. More of them wrapped around her body as before, clutching her breasts. She fished a petri dish out of her pocket and started running her other hand over the tentacles, then wiped the slime off onto the dish. “Whatever are you doing?” the demon asked.
“Don’t mind me, just collecting some of this for analysis,” said Claire, putting the cover on the dish and dropping it back into the pocket.
“Oh, is that all I am to you, a test subject for samples and research?” Gruthsorik teased.
“Shut up and fuck me- aaahhh aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!” Claire deadpanned, then screamed in pleasure as a tentacle entered her ass. Soon after, the rest were in place, all holes were being fucked with the long, writhing tentacles, and she was suspended in midair. This time she was even eager to take one into her mouth. True to Gruthsorik’s word no tentacles coiled up her arms, instead he slipped them into her hands and she enthusiastically stroked them, jacking him off twice over while getting pounded hard in her pussy, ass, and mouth. She exploded into the screaming orgasm both she and the demon craved so much.
As it subsided, she struggled to regain a clear head. There was one more thing she was supposed to do, something that was about to happen. Oh yes, right! One hand released its tentacle and darted into her pocket to retrieve the plastic specimen collection beaker. As Gruthsorik started screaming his own release, she adjusted the aim of the tentacle she still held in her other hand. As the tentacles pumped cum into her body and shot it all over her, she collected the load that was meant for half her face. The beaker filled to the brim and then some, despite being the largest one she had, 500 milliliters. She let go of the tentacle and managed to get the lid on the beaker before succumbing to the post coital exhaustion and falling limp in the tentacles’ grasp, the beaker slipping out of her hand and clattering on the floor below.
“Aren’t you the tricky one,” Gruthsorik said while letting her down and uncoiling his tentacles. “So Doctor, did you get everything you need?”
Claire let out a long contented moan, then replied, “Yes, I think so, for now anyway.” She paused to catch her breath a bit more, then said, “So, I bet that’s the first time you’ve had the same woman twice.”
“Actually, that’s something I’m going to have to tell you about,” Gruthsorik said, sounding suddenly solemn. “Something you need to know. You’re the first to hold me captive-” He was cut off mid-sentence by the ringing of the phone.
“Sorry! Hold that thought,” Claire said, and routed the call to the cell’s control panel, then answered.
“Dr. Thompson, it’s Major Jeffers. We’re going to be coming over with a delivery for you from Mexico. Something that was feasting on some livestock down there.”
“El chupacabras? A real one?” Claire asked excitedly. The so-called goat sucker. Even though they are considered an invasive species infestation with a priority on capture or extermination, the genuine article is tough to come by due to the high number of false reports. You let one alien spacecraft leave behind a handful of extraterrestrial predatory beasts that find domesticated animals to be nice to snack on, and suddenly every coyote attack on livestock and every diseased wild dog corpse is made out to be a strange and unknown creature.
“Yep, that’s right. They had to use artillery to take him down,” Jeffers said. “But the head is completely intact this time.”
“Oh, beautiful! I can’t wait to dissect it,” Claire said, then glancing down at herself, she added, “Uh, take your time though, I’ve got something in progress here and I need to button things up before I can get away and come let you in.” She winced at her unintentional pun. She needed to get cleaned up, dressed, and get the samples properly stored, fast.
“Roger that, no hurry,” Jeffers replied.
– – –
“I’ve got results!” Claire announced while walking into the room. “Would you like to hear them?”
“I have a feeling that’s a rhetorical question anyway, but yes, yes, please do tell me all about my bodily fluids,” Gruthsorik said. The brain scanners had given her some interesting readings that she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret, but the physical samples she had taken were a much easier matter.
“Alright, well first, the slime your tentacles secrete is far more than just lubrication. It possesses some fairly sophisticated pharmacological properties, although once I figured out what they were it certainly stands to reason. Get this, muscle relaxant and aphrodisiac! Neither of them very powerful, but definitely there.”
“You mean that stuff helps make girls more compliant for me?” Gruthsorik asked.
“That’s right,” said Claire. “Weak, loose, and horny, or at least slightly more so than they would be otherwise. I think it’s absorbed through the skin only a little, but gets picked up via the bodily orifices quite a bit more. I expect it helps you get as deep as you do. It seems your body is even more specialized for rape than I had suspected.”
“Is that so,” Gruthsorik mused. “I didn’t know going so deep would ordinarily be considered difficult.”
“Ohhhhh yes, you have no idea,” Claire said. “Well, it’s not as if it’s an impossible feat I suppose, some porn stars do crazy shit like that all the time, but it typically takes some working up to it, and high arousal too. Your tentacles are strong enough to go wherever they damn well please, that slime they produce just makes it a little easier on the girl.
“As for your semen, that’s another thing that wasn’t surprising once I thought about it,” Claire continued. “In normal sexual reproduction, the genes are scrambled between the paired chromosomes during production of the sperm and ova, so the offspring inherits traits from all four of its grandparents. Your sperm contains only the nonhuman half of your DNA. Any child you produce would have the same fifty percent demon genetic make-up as you. In fact your side of the genes get passed down completely unchanged, the only difference between individuals would be the bits in the mother’s DNA that vary from person to person. There was probably an original full-blooded incubus-type creature with the latent shape-shifting gene, your father, grandfather, or great-grandfather, somewhere back there. It managed to impregnate a human woman and that produced the first half-blood tentacle monster with the ability to change to a human form.”
“A far better thing, to be sure,” Gruthsorik said. “The demon hunters always did favor the larger and uglier prey. Not because they were easier to kill, mind you, just easier to find.”
Claire nodded in understanding and continued. “There’s something else. When I say ‘any child you produce’, that’s theoretical only. Your actual sperm count is below what would be considered sterile for a human. Outside of in vitro fertilization in a lab, it’s extremely doubtful that you could get a girl pregnant.” Even so, Claire had already started herself on birth control, just to make sure.
“Just as well,” Gruthsorik said. “Not something I ever gave any thought to, and I’m glad I don’t have to start now.” Claire realized that a tentacle demon infant wouldn’t be something a girl could just ignore or lie about by concocting a story of a human rapist. The Institute would have been chasing after Gruthsorik decades ago if there were even the slightest hint of a trail of demon babies. And beings who are all but immortal would worry a lot less about needing to reproduce to keep the species going. Still, it obviously happened at least once.
“I take it you don’t remember your mother?” she asked.
“Honestly, I didn’t even realize I had one, human or otherwise,” he said. Claire nodded. Apparently all he knew was a lifetime of solitary nomadic existence, without even the most fundamental of consistent female influences. Wait, that reminded her, there was something he was trying to say before.
“Oh, wasn’t there something else you wanted to talk about?” Claire remembered.
“Yes, that’s right. You made a remark about the same woman being with me more than once,” Gruthsorik said. “Though you’re the first to hold me captive, you’re not the first I’ve stayed with for a long period of time.”
“You’re kidding me. Really?” Claire asked.
“Oh yes, I’m quite serious,” he said. “As you can attest to, when I fuck a girl it tends to tire them out. Most can’t or don’t say anything as just I leave them laying there, looking very lovely all covered with my cum and the torn remains of their clothes scattered about. Some do manage to hurl a few curses at me, others compliments, some just cry. But then, there are those few that ask me not to go.”
“What… what do you do?” Claire said.
“Well I can’t turn down such a generous offer, of course,” the demon said. “Knowing where your next meal is coming from is a wonderful thing. But I have to take you back to the first time it happened, a long, long time ago. I was in France at the time. I found a woman sleeping alone in her small farmhouse, which by the way were so much easier to break into back then. I had my way with her, and she enjoyed it very much, had a very tasty orgasm. I set her down on her floor and turned to go, and I heard her whisper, ‘Please, please monster, don’t leave.’ It surprised me, I turned back and asked, ‘What was that? What did you say?’ She coughed and cleared her throat and got her breath back, and said, ‘That was the most incredible I’ve ever felt. Not even my husband has made me feel that way. Though it may be sinful, if you stay here I will give myself to you whenever you ask.’ And so I did.
“Her name was Bernadette. Her husband was away fighting some war, in the holy land, she called it. He probably died there. She was lonely, and while I was there at least, very horny. Contrary to her promise, she was the one who always asked me for sex every few days, and of course I never turned her down. It was a delightful arrangement, and went on like that for several months. Then I started to notice she had less energy then she used to. She slept more, she was more tired after doing her daily farm chores, and she just plain looked worn out. As she got worse, I began to worry that I was causing it somehow. I had no idea what long term effects fucking me might have on a girl. Perhaps I was slowly draining the life from her. So I left. I went back, a few years later, to check on her. I didn’t let her see me, but she was still there, and healthy again, thankfully.”
“You cared for her,” Claire ventured.
“No. Well, a little, perhaps,” Gruthsorik allowed. “She took me in and was kind to me, even if we were just using each other for sex. Mostly though, I don’t aspire to be a killer. That may sound strange from someone like me. Pretty girls are just livestock to me, yes. I like causing them pain, I like causing them terror, but I still enjoy them too much to want to be the cause of one of them actually dying. Even then I didn’t know if I had caused her illness or if she had merely caught something else while I was there. I found out some years later in Germany. Another peasant girl alone in her farmhouse, came hard, very delicious. As I was leaving she started asking, ‘Please demon, take me with you. Carry me back to hell with you and I will let you and your brother devils use my body again and again for all time.’ I couldn’t take her with me of course, not to hell or anywhere else. But I did promise to return for her. I came back once a week or so and she eagerly gave herself to me. Elsa was her name, she had lost her entire family to the plague. I think she had survivor’s guilt, which was why she asked for hell, a damnation of being filled by tentacles must have seemed better than a life she no longer cared for. Getting fucked by me became the solitary moments of joy in her existence.
“I thought that if I had made Bernadette sick, maybe being with Elsa less often would keep her safe. In the end it only staved off the inevitable, after half a year she was showing the same signs of constant fatigue, and I moved on.”
“So it’s cumulative,” Claire said. “It builds over time with each fucking. But given enough time away from you the side effects diminish.”
“So it seems,” Gruthsorik nodded. “Since then, the handful of girls who have offered themselves to me long term, I give them a few wonderful weeks and then slip away and resume my travels. Well, except for the sorority, that is.”
“The sorority?” asked Claire.
Continued in Chapter 5: Sorority
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