INTERVIEW WITH THE TENTACLE DEMON
by the Perv Otaku
CHAPTER 1: ARRIVAL
The ringing of the telephone woke her. Claire turned to check the clock. Just after 3 a.m. Damn. Now she wished she hadn’t stayed up later than usual. She rolled over and answered the phone with a sleepy “Hello?”
“Dr. Thompson, it’s Major Jeffers. I apologize for the late hour, but we’ve got an incoming for you.” Of course they did. There was no other reason for him to call at 3 am.
“What’s the ETA?” She asked, hoping for a little more time to sleep.
“The plane it’s on is on landing approach now. We should have it to the Institute within 40 minutes.” So much for sleep.
“Alright, I’ll be there, Major. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and rose from bed, stretching to get herself fully awake. She would have to hurry.
– – –
She ate what couldn’t be called a proper breakfast as she drove. She wouldn’t have chosen to live in the desert area of the American southwest, except that her job was here, but one thing you could say about it was that the nights were beautiful and full of stars.
She managed to arrive just behind the military truck that had taken over transport duties for the trip from the airfield to the Institute. She waited as it was let past the guard shack at the lone entrance that interrupted the high fence, and then pulled forward to show her ID to the unfortunate young soldier who had the graveyard shift this month. The guards here were always low-ranking troops rotated in from the same nearby military base the truck had just driven from. Some took it as a nice, relaxing break from their normal duties. Others disliked the boredom of the extremely uneventful post. None of them knew what went on in the building they guarded, except that access to it could only be granted to those with a security clearance so high they had never heard of it before, and probably never would again.
After the guard waved her through and closed the gate behind her, Claire parked and exited her car while watching the Major and his men unload their cargo from the truck. It was similar to the sealed medical gurneys that were used to transport people with highly infectious diseases, only larger and much more reinforced, with strong locks holding it closed. They followed behind her as she opened the main doors and went inside the building. She turned on the lights and turned around to look through the clear cover of the gurney at the creature they had brought in for her.
It was humanoid, and a huge one at eight feet tall. Not thin either, but broad shouldered and muscular, quite an imposing figure, actually. Its skin was somewhere between olive green and medium grey in color, smooth, not scaley, so it wasn’t reptilian despite the lizard-like thick tail that reached down to its feet. It had no body hair and wore no clothing, but its crotch was smooth as an old fashioned Ken doll’s, with no visible genitalia. Its toes and fingers were clawed, though the claws didn’t look large or sharp enough to be all that useful for, say, hunting or fighting. And finally, the face was cruel and angular. Six-inch-long gazelle-like ridged horns extended up from thick primitive-looking brow ridges, angled outwards in a slight “v” shape and curved back over its head. Pointed ears and shaggy hair of various shades of gray completed the demonic visage. Claire supposed it was probably some type of lesser demon, a rarity these days, even for the Institute. Jeffers broke the silence, “Got an especially nasty looking one this time.”
“You’re not kidding about that. Alright, let’s get it into containment,” Claire said as she turned to lead them down the hallways, opening the security doors along the way. She stopped briefly in a lab room to drop off her purse and grab a tablet computer and a small bag of supplies, then they continued on to the cell block. She took them into Containment Room 1, which like the others was a large open space surrounding a 15 by 25 foot cell. The cell, being for observation as much as for containment, was walled with two separate layers of plexiglass several inches thick, with a mismatched series of small slits for ventilation. It was reinforced with a strong steel support structure. This one was designed for humanoid occupants, so in the near right corner a large raised slab with a mattress served as a bunk. The far right corner had a short internal wall that contained plumbing, forming a shower stall. Outside the stall stood a prison-style toilet, the type with a sink built in to the top. The left side of the cell had an internal wall all the way across, forming the entryway barred at each end with a security door. Entry through each was gained via a simple button, but leaving again required a thumb print, retina scan, and eight digit passcode at both doors. The idea being that a creature might be able to slip out though the first door as a person was leaving, but then wouldn’t be able to gain exit through the outer door with anything short of mind control. This scenario was expected to in most cases result in the bloody death of said person, but better to lose one than to lose everybody in the building should a fierce creature escape the cell entirely.
Claire used the control panel on the wall to turn on the room’s lights and video cameras, then followed the soldiers as they hauled the gurney through the entryway and over to the bunk. They undid the latches and raised the cover. She stabbed a syringe into the beast’s arm to collect a blood sample. It began to growl and stir. “Crap, it’s waking up! Didn’t you give it another dose of tranq when you moved it off the plane?” Claire said as she drew the plunger. That was supposed to be standard procedure. Even with the gurney holding it in, you didn’t want these things putting up a fight during transport.
“It looked good and out to me!” Jeffers said. Claire withdrew the syringe and stashed it in an insulated pocket in her supply bag with a cold pack. Jeffers and his men quickly dumped the creature out onto the bunk and the group made a hasty retreat through the entryway.
“Alright, thanks guys, you can show yourselves out,” Claire said with a annoyed sigh. She would have to stay in the room now that the creature was waking up. She set the supply bag down by the door and checked the control panel to make sure the cameras were aligned properly and recording.
The beast groaned, pushed itself up on one elbow, and spoke in a deep grumbling voice, “What happened? Where am I?”
“You speak English! Excellent, that always makes things easier,” Claire said. This drew the creature’s attention, and he stumbled to his feet and turned to face her. She could now see that his eyes were completely red, the irises a brighter shade than the sclera, the part that would be the “whites” of the eyes in humans. When he spoke she noticed both his teeth and tongue where pointed.
“Who are you? What is this place?” he demanded.
“I am Dr. Claire Thompson, director of the U.S. Armed Forces Institute for Xenobiology and Cryptobiology,” she replied.
The monster looked around, taking in his surroundings. His inhuman face showed worry and uncertainty at first, then changed to fierce determination. He pounded his fist against the plexiglass wall twice, judging its strength. Realizing that he would be unable to break through it, he again looked at Claire. She steeled herself against being intimidated by the huge brute and his cold gaze. He was probably used to being feared on sight, but she was safe outside the cell and had seen plenty of weird before. “Aliens and monsters. You study them. And now I am your latest specimen?”
Claire nodded. “That’s correct. Myths and legends, both ancient and modern. We find out which ones are really out there and what makes them tick.”
The creature sighed in defeat, and sank down to sit on the bunk. “Shit. Well, I suppose something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. Shit.”
Claire was relieved that he was taking it so reasonably, and ventured, “And you, do you have a name?”
“Piss off,” the demon snapped. Claire waited patiently. He turned his head to stare at her again, apparently considering it, and with another look of defeat he answered, “I do. I almost never have need for it, but… it’s Gruthsorik.”
“Interesting name. What language root does it come from?” Claire asked.
“Not a human one,” Gruthsorik replied coldly.
“Well then Gruthsorik, it’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I apologize for the sparseness of the accommodations, it’s not especially designed for comfort, but since you’ll be here with us for the foreseeable future if there’s anything I can get for you within reason, please feel free to ask.”
“Fuck you,” the beast sneered, making it clear he was not interested in talking with his captor. Well, there would be plenty of time for that. From within the cell, talking was all he would be able to do. Claire decided not to press it yet, though. Besides, she needed to get that blood sample into the DNA sequencer while it was fresh.
“Alright, I have to run and take care of a few things here, but I’ll be back in a little while. If you need something, you can reach me via the intercom on the panel by the door there,” she said, pointing at the inner entryway door of the cell. The panel also had controls to dim the room lights for sleeping, and to adjust the room’s HVAC temperature settings. Then she picked up the supply bag and disappeared into the hallway.
– – –
Not long after, Claire reentered the room, tablet computer in hand. “Hello again,” she said cheerfully. Gruthsorik was sitting on the bunk sulking and barely glanced up. Well, the silent treatment was better than being swore at. “I’ve received your capture report. Let’s see what it says about you.” She pulled a chair up to the cell wall and sat down to read. It began with the standard form information, date, agent reporting, operation commanding officer, location of capture, tentative creature identification… “Tentacle rape monster?” she blurted out in surprise. Sometimes the agents who managed the captures would get overly fanciful with that line of the form.
“At your service,” came the reply from within the cell, confirming that it was no exaggeration.
Claire was visibly confused. “But I thought those were just an invention of Japanese cartoon pornography to get around their censorship laws. Sex based demons are common throughout folklore of course, the most well known being the incubus and succubus, but there’s no mythological basis that I know of that suggests the existence of tentacle monsters.”
“I’ve been to Japan. Nice country. Lovely women,” Gruthsorik said in response. Claire wasn’t satisfied, but she decided to sort it out later. Onward with the report. The next section was an abstract, giving the important details in brief. As she read it, the full implications of “rape monster” sank in, and she became very uncomfortable despite the barrier between her and the beast. She put on her best poker face and continued.
“It says here you attacked a college student in a classroom. She happened to be talking on the phone though and her friend on the other end called the police, who arrived in time to intervene.”
“What?!” shouted Gruthsorik, incredulous. “There was no phone! I may be many things but stupid is not one of them.” Claire paged through the document, looking for the answer.
“Ah. She was using one of those Bluetooth earpiece headsets with her cell phone. Little thing with a short range radio link to the phone itself. Maybe it was under her hair and you couldn’t see it.” Gruthsorik’s face cycled from confused to understanding and back to defeat.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled. “And for that I end up here. I hate technology. It was all so much easier when the most complicated things you humans knew how to make were wheels, swords, and the bow and arrow.”
“You… say that from personal experience?” Claire asked in surprise.
“Am I really that old, you mean? Yes, I am. Congratulations, Doctor, you’ve caught yourself a genuine ancient evil,” the beast admitted. It was no mere sarcasm, either. This meant he wasn’t just a new type of monster for the Institute, he was virtually their holy grail of unnatural creatures.
“This is incredible,” Claire said, barely hiding her enthusiasm. “We’ve never been able to obtain solid evidence that an immortal class of demons really existed.”
“Immortal? That’s an exaggeration,” Gruthsorik said. “True, high level demons do not age, but there are ways to die other than natural causes that work perfectly well. Power struggles between them almost always proved fatal for one or both. Many more were killed by demon hunters back in the days when humans still believed in such things and the proper methods and incantations for combating unholy creatures were still commonly known. I’ve always assumed that a few managed to lay low and survive into the modern era like myself. Though actually I haven’t even run across any lower level demonic creatures in centuries, either. I suppose you have, though.”
“The Institute has had a few that fit the description of lesser demons, yes,” Claire confirmed. He was correct, though. Cryptid creatures are by definition either rare, very good at staying out of sight, or both. Historical population numbers are nonexistent of course, so the trends are completely unknown, but by modern standards several of them are endangered species. Case in point, the peaceful but very skittish giant hairy hominid (known variously as the sasquatch, yeti, hibagon, yowie, and other names as well) was presumably long in decline anyway, but suffered further from loss of habitat to human expansion. An ongoing effort was underway at a secret reserve to restore the population while keeping them hidden from civilian creature hunters. On the other hand, extremely low species population was perhaps the only thing that kept creatures like the rakshasa from becoming global apex predators.
“Alright, let’s continue then,” Claire said, trying to rein in her excitement. There were still some matters to sort through. “They sent along some raw recordings. This is the testimony of your last victim. Her name is Monica Stern. I’d like you to listen to this and confirm its accuracy.”
She started the playback. A man’s voice spoke first, “Alright Monica, you can start now. Please, tell me what happened to you.”
The girl spoke haltingly, “I was in the department’s student lounge, where they keep all the reference books, working late into the evening on a report that’s due tomorrow…”
-}-}-}
Monica sat at the computer, several books and notebooks open around her. She only half listened to her friend Kelly who was chattering away on her cell earpiece. Then she heard another voice from the doorway, “Young lady, this building is closing soon, I’m going to need to lock up for the night.”
Monica looked up from her report, she didn’t recognize the man but he was obviously a janitor or professor or something. She replied, “I know, I’m sorry, I’m almost finished with this and then I’ll leave.”
The man walked up to Monica and said, “That’s okay. The building is empty. Nobody’s going to hear you.” She started to ask what he meant when he grabbed her breasts.
She jumped out of her chair and stumbled back, shouting “Hey! What the hell are you doing!” She was horrified to see that he now had his pants open with his erect cock sticking out. She was even more horrified when a second cock emerged. She looked up and found that his eyes were now glowing bright red. She stuttered, “What… what the fuck are you?” The man, no, the creature, only smiled in reply. A cruel, evil smile. She glanced back down and saw he had three dicks now.
Panic managed to overtake her amazement and she made a break for the door, dashing around the creature. She was yanked to a halt when something grabbed her wrist, then her ankle too. Her eyes went wide as she saw it was not the creature’s hands, but his cocks, reaching across the room, more like tentacles now. She began to scream and shout for help as the third and a fourth tentacle cock took hold of her other wrist and ankle.
The creature laughed and taunted, “Yes, scream! Scream all you want! There is no one else around! No help will come!” The tentacles turned Monica around to face him, and pulled her arms up above her head and her legs wide apart. She continued screaming as she watched the creature continue to change, growing taller and sprouting horns and a tail, its clothes vanishing as its skin turned dark. She struggled against the tentacles but their grip was too strong, and they increased their hold on her by coiling further up her arms and legs, well past her elbows and knees.
– – –
Kelly pulled her phone away from her ear as Monica’s protests turned to screams. She ended the call and dialed 911.
– – –
Two more cocks grew out from the monster’s crotch and extended into tentacles, this time they invaded Monica’s blouse. She shuddered as she felt them slithering across her stomach and around her back. They wrapped back around to her front again, pulled the front of her bra down and off her breasts, then wrapped around them and began gently squeezing while the tips of the tentacles rubbed against her nipples. She begged, “Please no, please stop, let me go,” over and over. Now that they could fully support her body, the tentacles lifted her up off the floor. She hung in the air, fighting against it but helpless, suspended by the disgusting tentacles.
The next tentacle went under Monica’s knee-length skirt and into her panties. In and out, wrapping around them. She screamed again as it pulled them until they tore off. She felt it return and start rubbing the outside of her pussy. She pleaded, “Why, why are you doing this?” Several more tentacles working together grabbed at her blouse and skirt and ripped them off of her body as well, followed by her bra, discarding the ruined scraps of fabric onto the floor below. They even yanked off her shoes and socks, leaving her completely naked and feeling even more helpless. The tentacle at her pussy began to push inside and Monica screeched, “Noooooo!” at the top of her lungs.
The monster just laughed again, and said “You have such a lovely pussy!” The tentacle fucked Monica’s pussy, slowly but surely pushing further and further in with every stroke. She thrashed her body against the tight grip of the tentacles, screaming and moaning as she fought with all her strength to no avail. Before long her pussy was invaded deeper than any of the guys she’d ever been with could reach. Finally it found the limit, filling her as much as it could. It started pulling out slowly, then stopped and began pounding her even harder. Her body shook with each thrust. The beast taunted her again, “Yeeeeesss, you’re such a good fuck!”
Monica felt her body starting to betray her as her moans of protest gradually became moans of pleasure. She lost track of time as the tentacle rammed deep into her pussy over and over. She snapped out of when she felt a new tentacle rubbing across her asshole. She renewed her struggles and begged him again, “No no no no not there please not there.” Naturally, that didn’t deter the beast at all, and the tentacle forced itself into Monica’s ass. At the sudden entry, she screamed and started sobbing. It fucked her back door, slowly progressing deeper inside, just as the just as the one in her pussy had done.
– – –
Officer Nevin of the local police arrived outside the building just as a campus policeman did. Nevin drew his sidearm and took point as they went inside and searched the building for a girl in distress. Monica’s last scream echoed down the hallway and they ran towards the sound. Of all the possibilities that had run through his mind, what he saw when he reached the lounge was not one of them. He yelled the only appropriate response to finding an eight foot monster gripping a naked girl in its long tentacles, “Holy shit!”, then emptied his gun into the beast.
The tentacles went limp and the girl dropped to the floor with them. She pulled free of them and crawled away as the monster clutched at its bleeding wounds, grunting in pain, and slowly collapsed. Nevin ran to her and scooped her up. The campus officer looked in behind him and said, “Jesus Christ, what the hell is that thing?”
Nevin said, “We’re not staying here to find out,” and the two of them rushed the grateful girl back out to the squad cars.
-]-]-]
“…and I got out my emergency blanket so she could cover herself. I had her wait in the back seat of my car until the ambulance arrived and took her away. Per instructions from dispatch I stood guard outside the building until the military helicopter arrived.” The recording of Nevin’s testimony ended there. He was clearly disturbed by what he had witnessed but his training allowed him to maintain his composure. Monica, on the other hand, was a wreck. She had broken down crying several times while recounting the attack.
Claire followed Nevin’s example as best she could, but still took several moments to gather herself before she could ask, “Alright, do you have anything you can to add to that?”
“Add? Yeah, I can add something. Getting shot really hurts,” Gruthsorik said.
“You know you don’t actually look like you’ve been shot,” Claire said. “You weren’t even bleeding any more when they brought you in here. Rapid healing seems to be a universal trait in shape-shifters, I take it that’s the case with you as well?”
“Yes, yes, that’s right. But that doesn’t lessen the trauma of the wounds. That modern gun was much more powerful than anything I’ve ever been attacked with before. It took a lot out of me, obviously, since I was still lying there in too much pain to move when your soldiers came and shot me with knock-out darts.”
Claire found herself completely unsympathetic to the monster’s pain. She decided to go directly to the big question on her mind, and asked point blank, “Why do you do it, anyway? What is the driving force of a rape demon?”
“What do you think it is?” Gruthsorik countered.
Claire considered it and ventured, “Among humans, rape is much more often about power than it is about the sex itself. It’s a way for a man to impose dominance over a woman he knows, to strike back at women in general in cases of rape of a stranger, even as a tool of terror by soldiers of totalitarian governments to reinforce the idea of helplessness in the oppressed citizens.”
The demon chuckled, and said, “Well yes, the power thing is very nice. I completely enjoy my dominance over you lesser beings. Hell, plenty of spirits and demons in the old days liked to cause trouble with humans just for entertainment or to inflate their egos. Your kind would call it petty and cruel. It took me a long time to understand those concepts and the other nonsense you primates call morality. Once I did, well, I think it’s absolutely delightful to be this thing you call evil.”
“But that’s not the only reason?” Claire ventured. “What’s the rest of it?”
Gruthsorik stared at her quietly, reluctant to answer. Claire stared right back. Finally the monster gave in. “Oh, fine. I can’t really keep this from you anyway, given my situation. How best to put this, you know how your kind often describes lust as if it were hunger? Well for me, it’s not a metaphor. They literally are one and the same.”
“Are you saying you feed on rapes?” Claire asked in disbelief.
“Essentially, yes. More specifically, I take sustenance from the raw, base emotions and sensations that they invoke in the girl, things like fear, pain, pleasure, lust,” Gruthsorik answered.
“Wait, I get the fear and pain, but lust and pleasure?” said Claire. “Those are not words normally associated with rape.”
Gruthsorik laughed wickedly, then explained, “Oh, sure, plenty of girls fight it the entire time, and I get what I need from that. The panic, the desperation, the despair of being violated, are all quite nice indeed, but when they enjoy it, it’s much… what words would you use… tastier, and more filling. Most of those girls start to like it despite themselves, so some nice embarrassment or guilt gets added to the mix. And the ones that accept their plight, stop resisting, and give themselves over to it are the most delicious of all.”
“So what you’re saying is when you’re attacking a girl, you’re actually trying to make her feel good?” Claire said incredulously.
“Ideally, yes. Absolutely,” replied Gruthsorik with a wicked grin. “And if I bring her to orgasm, mmmmmmmm, it’s like a feast!” Claire shuddered. As a woman, she was completely disgusted by this trivializing of the abuse he inflicted on his victims. As a scientist though, she was intrigued. What he described was the most unlikely form of metabolism she’d ever heard of, and a startling discovery if it was the slightest bit true. The demon sensed her unease and pushed it further. “You know, that girl, Monica, of course she didn’t admit it on that recording of yours, but when the policemen interrupted us, she was already starting to enjoy getting fucked in two holes.” Claire couldn’t keep the discomfort from showing on her face, even though she was trying to take him at his word here.
The mention of Monica’s name also made Claire realize she had gotten sidetracked. She composed herself and continued, “Right, your capture. In case you’re curious, the soldiers in that chopper Nevin mentioned collected you and sent you on your way to the base near here while agents debriefed everyone involved and assigned them a cover story. If anybody asks, Monica was raped at gunpoint by an ordinary human, Officer Nevin interrupted, they exchanged fire, and the rapist was killed. Only the military counselor we will assign to the girl will ever discuss what really happened to her.”
“So you keep yourselves and your captured monsters a secret from the world. Very tidy,” Gruthsorik said. “Not that I’m complaining about that, mind you.”
“No, you wouldn’t want to be public knowledge anymore than we do,” Claire said. “And apparently you’ve done a remarkably good job of it if the first we’ve seen or heard of your kind is the morning you’re brought in. We pay attention to these things, ancient mythology and today’s urban legends alike. Although, rape is such an underreported crime as it is, so maybe it’s not that surprising if your victims never tell anyone. And those that do have probably used the same lie we gave Monica in order to keep from sounding delusional.” She paused, lost in thought for a moment, then said, “You know, you may just fit the description of incubus after all.”
“Do tell,” Gruthsorik said, though his tone conveyed that he didn’t really care.
“Girls in the medieval era would have been just as hesitant to tell the whole truth about being tentacle raped,” Claire posited. “Given the trauma and embarrassment, they wouldn’t have wanted to describe the full details any more than a modern girl. Monica herself probably wouldn’t have if others hadn’t witnessed the tentacles too. People did still believe in demons though, so they could just reveal that much, that an inhuman creature assaulted them. And that makes things fall in line with most of the classic sex demons. They were said to seduce women or attack them in their beds while they slept, and feed on their energies. The modern interpretation is that stories of such things were hallucinations due to sleep paralysis or scapegoating out of wedlock pregnancies in a time when premarital sex was highly stigmatized. And both of those are probably accurate in most cases, but nearly every myth, in its original form, has a basis in fact. You or others like you could very well have been the origin of these stories.”
“Well, goodie for me,” Gruthsorik said snidely.
For that matter, if he’d spent time in Japan as he claimed, in some roundabout way he may even have inspired the infamous tentacle porn genre. Pleased with her deductions, Claire moved on. There was one more thing she wanted to know right now to complete the general profile of her new arrival. “So do you always go after students?” she asked.
“Schools make excellent hunting grounds,” said Gruthsorik. “They’re easy to get into and have lots of girls. Not just the students, the adult females as well. Teachers, coaches, janitors, sometimes even a principal or dean. But I’m opportunistic. I hunt anywhere I’m likely to find a girl or woman alone and vulnerable. Waitresses on the closing shift, dark alleys off empty city streets late at night, lone riders on a late night subway car, squatters in abandoned buildings. And away from cities there are hiking trails, secluded beaches, and farmer’s daughters out venturing in their fields. Just to name a few.”
“Sounds like you move around quite a bit,” Claire said.
“Can’t stay in one place too long,” explained the demon. “You say victims don’t talk, but I can’t chance that. Have enough of them in the same area and sooner or later people might start noticing something. Better to make a few scores then drift off to somewhere else and remain unknown. And I enjoy seeing new scenery.”
“And making yourself look human, that helps you get close to unsuspecting potential victims, no doubt,” Claire said.
“It depends on the situation, it’s not always necessary, but yes, that’s right. Plus changing into a monster right in front of their eyes adds a bit of a dramatic flair that can heighten the initial fear response,” Gruthsorik said.
“Quite the devious predator, aren’t you,” said Claire with more disdain than respect. Even with the cell walls separating them, her skin was crawling just being in the room with him. She had to get out, but one last question sprang to mind. “How young of a girl do you…” her voice faltered, she was afraid the answer might make her sick to her stomach.
“Do I go after?” the demon finished. “You know it wasn’t all that long ago that girls were married off and started having children as soon as they reached puberty. Have I taken girls that young? Most certainly. But I do prefer them a bit more grown. High school age, in modern terms. Younger than puberty, not at all, doesn’t even seem practical.”
“Alright. Thank you Gruthsorik, for being so forthcoming about yourself. That’s all for now. I’ve got some paperwork concerning you that I need to handle. I’ll be in to check on you every now and then. If you think of anything more to add about your attack on Monica, let me know.” The demon grunted in response, and laid down on the bunk as Claire hurried out of the room.
Continued in Chapter 2: Feeding
– – –
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.