Valkyria

She thought for a moment, running her fingers through the tail of the braid after securing it with a tie.

“I danced,” she said with a smile, “and I sang. I ate and I drank. I celebrated and once the sun went down, I walked down to the beach and I spent the night under the stars.”

“And after?” you asked.

“I married your father,” she said, kissing the crown of your head, “and we lived a good life until the sea took him.”

You followed in your mother’s footsteps as you always longed to do. You smiled at the man she arranged for you to marry as you danced to the beat of the drums. Tonight would be the last night you saw him before he was to leave, traveling inland for a week to hunt.

He’d return with the first game he would bring home and present it to you at your wedding. It would prove that he was going to be a worthy husband and a good provider.

All you had to do was walk into the darkness and find a place to sit and wait night settled over the party. It was time for you to retire to the home that would at the end of the week would become your family home.

It would be the home you’d raise your children in. It was the first gift your betrothed provided you. He had to before your family would accept the proposal of marriage. It was the first thing a man had to do to prove they could provide for a wife and family was provide a home.

The pebbles on the path crunched softly under your feet as you put the party behind you and walked toward the setting sun.

The sun glittered off the the waves sending sparkling reflections of light into the air. They sparked like crushed gemstones as you walked toward where the waves crashed over the sand, rolling forward and mixing with the sand to form a foam that rolled back as the water pulled away from the beach.

You were supposed to going to what would become your marital home at the end of the week. Instead, your feet carried you past where your cottage would overlook the beach.

Eventually, the gravel gave way to soft sand that shifted under your feet. The ocean breeze ruffled the ends of your hair, carrying the strands back from your temple. The salty air refreshed your lungs as you slipped out of your shoes and stepped into the ocean water.

The promising sparkle of crushed diamonds on the water drew you deeper. As the water caressed your knees calves and soaked into your dress, you felt it wash away all the fear and anxiety you hadn’t been aware you were carrying.

Each time the soft waves crashed into your knees, you felt freer. The water pulled you deeper each time it pulled back from the shore.

You were never a terribly good swimmer. you’d played on the beach some as a child and sure, on calm days you’d float on the water but none of that prepared you for the wave that slammed into your chest, knocking you off your feet.

The sea dragged you under. The salt burned your throat. The world turned cold and dark. You kicked, flailed, but the current was stronger, greedier than your limbs could fight. Just as panic seized your chest tighter than the water, hands closed around you.

Strong. Sure. Not rough, but decisive. It felt as if they’d claimed you long before this moment, as if they’d touched you countless times before, in your most sinful dreams.

You broke the surface, gasping, and the first thing you heard wasn’t the roar of the waves, but a voice. It was low and rich, like velvet soaked in honey, carrying on the breeze as if the sea itself bent to its will.

“Hush now, lovely one, the sea’s no place for wayward angels.”

The man’s grin shone through the spray of water crashing over his shoulders. It was too wide, too knowing. His dark hair clung to his brow, and his red eyes glowed faintly beneath the sun’s dying light. He cradled you effortlessly against his chest, as if you weighed no more than a feather.

“What?” You coughed around the word. “Who are-”

And then, his too wide smile split into a sharp, toothy grin and he sang, cutting off your questions.

A haunting melody rose from his lips, lilting, ancient, tangled with the sound of the surf. The notes wrapped around your senses, dulled the burn of salt on your tongue and soothed the tremor in your limbs. The sound relaxed you, much like how the crashing push and pull of the water had relaxed you before it betrayed you.

It physically hurt to take your eyes off him and look toward the shore only to find it farther from you than you expected.

“Oh god!” You clung to the man holding you, only just realizing it was a man holding you. Your wet dress as heavy around your body, clinging to you.

“Come dance, little dove,” he sang, “ let the tide bear us where it will”

With a flick of his wrist, the water steadied as he let your legs down. You clung to the bare torso of the man with red eyes as your legs moved through the water.

He pulled your arms from around your neck, letting you sink through the water until your feet settled on something steady. It pushed you up, letting you rise through the waves with him until you were standing mid chest deep in water on something you couldn’t see.

His fingers lingered on your waist, guiding pressure leading you through the heavy water. You tried to dance, to even take a step but he pulled you along the steps to some dance only he knew.

The wet fabric of your bodice pressed up against his chest as he held you. Each attempt to gain a sliver of space between your bodies was met with the tightening of his arm around your waist. His long fingers tightened around your hand as he led you around.

With a start, you realized the tips of his fingers were red. The color was as sharp as blood against the blue of the sea. The red bled down his fingers, darkening into a deep black that traveled up his wrist. It faded into the pale brown of the rest of his skin.

The sound of his song seemed to reverberate off the waves, coming at you from every shadow in the water and ever flicker of sparkling light on the water. The words were fleeting, urging you to relax in his grip as he danced with you.

“Just a step, sweet thing.” This time his voice came directly from him. Your head snapped up to look into those red, inhuman eyes. “ A turn. A spin. Oh, you’re a natural…”

And all the while, the sea felt warmer. Deeper. Alive. Something brushed your ankle. Not driftwood. Not seaweed. It was something that coiled, curious, threatening to take your attention from those eyes.

But his eyes held yours, and that grin, that voice, made you forget to fear the monsters of the deep.

The warmth of the sea wasn’t from the sun anymore, not that the setting sun could provide much warmth at all. It came from him, radiating like a tide of heat beneath the surface, leaching into the water to wrap around you. His fingers moved higher along your waist, the sharp tips of his nails just grazing your ribs, as if testing how fragile you might be beneath his touch.

That’s when you felt it again, that brush of something against your ankle. It was firmer this time. There was a deliberate curl. Your breath hitched as something slick and strong coiled up your calf, and your heart pounded so loudly you thought surely he must hear it over the quiet of the sea.

Your eyes darted down, but the water only shimmered, dark and deep, betraying nothing.

“What…” you whispered, voice trembling as his hand captured your chin, tilting your gaze back up to him. His grin widened, teeth too sharp, too many, glinting like pearls and knives all at once.

“Oh, don’t look down, darling,” he crooned, voice like honey poured over poison. “You’ll ruin the dance.”

His song resumed, softer now, coaxing, sweet as sin. The melody wrapped around your senses, muddling the spike of fear rising in your chest. Another tendril, no, a tentacle, brushed your thigh, sliding higher. The platform beneath your feet shifted, rippled, and realization struck like a lightning bolt through your daze.

You were not standing on some rock providing footing so far from shore.

You were standing on him, or at least something he created.

A cry rose in your throat, but his mouth was already there, stealing the sound with a kiss that tasted of salt and danger, his grip firm and unyielding as the sea itself.

“There’s no need for that,” he murmured against your lips, his voice both promise and threat.

“What do you want?”

His tentacles , you could no longer deny that’s what they were , wrapped more securely around your legs, your hips, pulling you closer, entwining you in a dance that had no end. His head cocked to the side, black tipped red hair dripping with water.

Even as your mind screamed to flee, your body swayed with his, lost to the rhythm of the waves, the song, the monster in a man’s skin.

“What do you want?” you whispered again, but your voice came out weak, carried off by the wind and the rhythm of the waves.

He didn’t answer at first. Tufts of hair atop his head twitched, framing two black tridents standing between the tufts of hair on his head.

Instead, he exhaled softly against your ear, brushing your soaked hair back with a hand that lingered too long, fingers curling against your scalp. His touch was reverent, almost curious, as if you were some rare shell caught in the tide.

“I don’t understand it.” Then he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your throat. “I want to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“What makes your kind so irresistible,” he said, and his voice lilted like his song, curious, but too calm, too composed for a creature whose limbs held you fast beneath the water. “So many of my kind risk their lives for your warmth. They leave the sea and never return. For what? A soft smile? A gentle kiss? A fragile heart that breaks so easily?”

One of his tentacles slithered higher, curling around your ribs. It was careful, almost tender, as it held you in its grip.

“I’ve sung sailors into the depths, heard the last beat of hearts against my palm… but I never understood.”

He leaned back enough to look at you, and his red eyes glowed softly with something almost like awe.

“Until now.” The water beneath you pulsed with life, steady, syncing to the racing of your pulse. The sea seemed to hush, holding its breath for what came next. “There’s something different about you. I don’t understand what it is.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked with numb lips. “Are you going to kill me too?”

“You’re beautiful when you're frightened,” he whispered. “And you haven't tried to run.”

You couldn’t. Not with his limbs around your legs, your waist, not with the strange heat crawling through your body, dulling your sense of danger. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to run, you did.

You just… couldn’t.

Except, you hadn’t even tried.

Maybe you were bewitched. Maybe it was his song still humming low beneath the surf.

Or maybe, terrifyingly, it was something else.

A part of you wanted to understand him too.

His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, his grin softening by only a few degrees. His breath ghosted over your mouth, warm and salt-tinged as tentacles twisted and wrapped around you. The distance between you shrank until you could feel the tremor of his hum against your skin.

“Just a taste of what drives them mad,” he whispered, as though speaking more to himself than to you.

“What?” you whispered, only to feel the soft swell of his lips as yours moved.

It wasn’t a kiss.

Not really.

But it could have been if you moved forward. If your head tilted forward. If he leaned in.

Instead, the both of you were frozen in place, waiting to see what the other would do.

His fingers, wet and warm, slid from your chin to the neckline of your dress. His nails toyed with the fabric, teasing the tie behind your neck, as though testing how easily it might come undone.

The tentacle at your ribs shifted, the slick length of it curling higher, crossing between your breasts, and another coiled at your hip, holding you fast.

“You wear too much,” he said, almost absently, eyes fixed on the fabric as his claw caught the tie. “Why do humans hide so much of themselves? Why cover what is meant to be seen?”

His claw tugged, slow, deliberate. The tie gave way with a soft snap of wet thread. Your breath hitched as the neckline loosened, cool water slipping inside to carry the fabric away from the skin underneath.

“You don’t have to fear me, little one.” His voice was low, coaxing, wrapped in velvet and storm tides. “I only want to see what they see.”

The words were poison, even as you relaxed in his grip. You had every reason to fear him. You had every reason to run. You had every reason and yet you held your breath as the water pulled the bodice of your dress down.

His grin returned, wider this time. He pulled again, just enough to let the fabric slide from one shoulder, baring it to the dying light.

Water lapped at the swells of your breasts, teasing the fabric lower and lower. His tentacles rippled, lifting off of you in waves only to clamp back down on you, keeping you in place.

His lips hovered so close that you could feel the shape of his grin without seeing it. The warmth of his breath mingled with the salt air, washing over you, refusing to let you forget how close he was.

Every time you thought he would close that last fraction of space, he didn’t. His mouth brushed the air just beside yours, ghosting along your cheek when he finally moved forward, as if tasting the shiver of your skin rather than your lips.

The loosened fabric of your dress clung to your wet skin for a heartbeat longer as he lifted your torso higher out of the water, until the sea’s pull and his coaxing hands and tentacles urged it lower.

One shoulder bare, not that the shoulder of the dress had been doing much to cover it at all. Then the other. The chill of the breeze struck where the water had been warmest, raising goosebumps along your skin.

Alastor hummed low in his throat , a sound of satisfaction or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, as he let the sodden fabric slide lower, his claws tracing along your arms as if mapping you.

His tentacles shifted, the ones at your waist and around your ribs working the dress down your frame without letting you sink into the water. The cold air sent goosebumps over your skin. The skin around your nipples pulled tight, pebbling the buds.

A shiver ran down your spine as he lowered you back within the water. This time, there was no surface for your feet to rest on. There was nothing but the expanse of the sea under your feet.

He pulled you back to him, pressing your bare chest against his again. Heat radiated off his body. He was so hot under your skin that it felt like it’d burn you. The heat wasn’t enough to override the fear of drowning that had you clinging to him.

“I could take you beneath the waves right now,” he murmured, sharp nose bumping into yours, the promise of the kiss still dancing along your skin, “and no one would know what became of you.” The way he said it wasn’t cruel. It was wonder, fascination. “But you wouldn’t fight me. Would you?”

“No,” you whispered.

His nose skimmed your temple as, his grin brushing your skin, as his hands worked the soaked fabric down your back, slow, reverent. The dangerous claw tips of his fingers traced over naked skin.

“You’d let me see. Let me learn.”

The sea around you seemed to still for as far as you could see, waiting with bated breath, as though the ocean itself craved what came next.

“You’re doing this?” Your eyes returned to his, so red in a world of blue. “You have the power to control the sea?”

His smile spread wider, cutting inhumanly across his face. A shiver ran down your spine as he left the answer unsaid but clear.

The tentacles rippled, the suction cups on their underside pulling at your skin as they walked along you until you felt the heavy fabric float down past your feet, leaving you naked in his dangerous embrace.

The man pulled you back slightly, letting himself get a good eyeful of you as he lifted you from the water. The cold ocean air pebbled your nipples and pulled your skin into gooseflesh.

“Fascinating,” he said, eyes taking in ever part of you. He pulled your legs apart, examining the stiff appendages.

Tentacles rippled, crawling up your chest. You gasped as they pushed the fat of your breasts, squeezing the tender, untouched flesh only to pull at the sensitive skin as they rippled away.

“These are like our women’s,” he reached out with a claw tipped hand, deceptively close to human in shape and little else. He palmed your breast as if it was not a shameful thing, something to be hidden.

“Please, stop,” you said, shame burning though you. Was it from being seen, being touched, in such an intimate way or was it because you liked the way his hand felt on your skin.

“You said you’d let me learn from you,” he said and you couldn’t remember if you had agreed. It felt like you’d been floating in the water with him for years and who could remember agreements made so long ago.

“I didn’t,” you said.

His fingers curled, pinching you pebbled nipple between his two knuckles. Pain shot through you, running a bolt down your torso to the sinful place between your legs. He pulled you closer to him by the nipple in his grasp.

“If you let me learn from you, I will bless your people.”

“What?” You yelped as he twisted your nipple.

“I control the seas. I control the tides. I could bless your people. I could bless your family. All I need from you is to allow me to… study you. You teach me why the sea folks insist on throwing themselves against the rocks for your kind and you never have a rough see.”

“How can I trust you?” You trembled in the cold air, eyes running over his tan torso, lean muscles that gave way to the body of an octopus at his hips. “I don’t even know what to call you.”

The tufts of hair atop his head flicked back, sending drops of water to ripple on the water’s surface.

“Is that all you humans need?” He laughed, the sound reverberating off the water. “You may call me Alastor.”

“Alright, Alastor.” You tried to smile as he turned your body this way and that, taking in all the ways your body differed from what he knew.

“It’s a deal then?”

“You’ll keep me safe? Keep my people safe?”

“That’s the deal,” Alastor hummed.

“Alright.” The sky winked black, darkness spreading swallowing everything around you. Green flashed in the water, casting Alastor in a green glow. That light reached you as well. The skin it touched tingled in the glow.

Though the moment felt like it lasted forever, it was over before you finished blinking.

“Very good,” Alastor said. “Very good indeedy.”

If you ever told anyone this story, you would deny that you knew what was going to come next. You were a good girl and you certainly didn’t trade your body for the safety of your people.

But you were not surprised when the cups of the tentacle landed over your nipples. The thin rings of muscle flexed, pulling at you. Your back arched, trying to push your breasts into it as he held you in place until the suction broke.

It was painful and yet not unpleasant. A sharp gasp slipped from between your parted lips, fueling his curiosity more.

He slapped his tentacle back on your chest, cups gripping your nipples rightly only to be ripped from your skin again, leaving painful red welts.

“That’s much like our kind,” he said to himself. The tentacle turned, wrapping around the bud of her nipple with the side of the appendage.

You were far from prepared for him to be able to pinch something as small as the bud of your nipple, let alone to be able to grip it with such force you were whimpering.

It should have hurt. It did hurt, actually. But it wasn’t a hurt you didn’t like. That scared you almost as much as the shine in his eyes, seeming to glow from the inside out.

The cold waters of the sea enveloped you again, still and crystal clear. The black tentacles of his lower body extended out, waving through the still waters. You could sea them easily, so very different than your legs.

The tentacles wrapped around your legs pulled them apart. The cold water washed away what your body had warmed, sending a shiver down your spine as your thighs parted.

The blunt tip of a tentacle crawled up your leg, caressing skin that none had touched but your mother when you were but a small child toddling around your mother’s home.

It reached up and up until it ran between your legs. The pointed end of the tentacle rested just below your navel as the suction cups worked to grip the flesh under.

“Oh,” you felt your body flush as the cups sucked at the lips of your most intimate place. It was not unpleasant but that terrified you in it’s own way. There wasn’t any reason anyone should be touching you like that before the week’s end.

But this monster of a man was touching you there and it felt good.

“Interesting,” he said as he pulled the arm back, breaking the suction on your skin and dragging the cups through your folds. Once the tip slipped between your folds, he began to probe the sensitive flesh there.

“What are you-?” Your question was cut off with a tentacle slamming over your lips, knocking you back only to be held tightly in his grasp.

“Hush now,” Alastor said. “If you’re not going to sing, you’re going to be quiet.”

The rounded tip of his tentacle pressed against your center, pushing against something you hadn’t dared to explore on your own body until it breached that spot, pushing inside of you in the way only your future husband should.

Ocean air filled your lungs, pulled in by your gasp. Your core burned as it stretched around the intrusion. You could feel every detail as he pushed inside. Each cup on the underside of his arm pressed against the ring of your opening, pushing until it folded in on itself and slipped inside only for the next row of cups to repeat the process.

He reached inside you until your eyes widened as a sharp spike of pain shot through you.

“You’re shallow,” Alastor said, working his arm off from over your lips. “That can’t be what draws them to you.”

“Oh!”

He pulled out from your stretched opening, letting the narrow arm slip until just the tip was inside before pushing inside again. After a few thrusts, you started to enjoy the feelings the monster masquerading as a man did to you.

Just as you began to relax in his arms, the tentacle that plunged inside you began to fatten. You thought you were just imagining it at first. Each bit your body relaxed, giving the intrusion more room, it widened.

It continued widening until you were gasping for breath and pleasure mixed with pain. Each thrust had your opening catching on the cups of his tentacle.

“Interesting,” Alastor hummed, the word vibrating over the waves.

“What?” You gasped only to have the tip of another tentacle pushed past your lips. The wet muscle was salty and fishy on your tongue, making your stomach roll. You wanted to heave but no matter how you twisted and turned, you couldn’t escape the tentacle.

“Your mating channel isn’t as long as ours.” He said it like it was a basic observation, like it was nothing.

You gurgled around his appendage as another tentacle began searching, working up your leg. Tears gathered in your eyes only to run down your cheeks.

The pleasure running through your veins was overwhelming. There wasn’t anything you could do about it. You couldn’t even put voice to it.

A new pressure joined the mix of sensations, pressing against a place you hadn’t imagined would ever be used in such a way. You looked at him with wide eyes as the tentacle backed out of your mouth and the pressure in the other place increased.

You tried to ask what he was doing only to have his tentacle push so far back it pressed against the back of your throat, gagging you.

“This is where your kind eliminate waste?” Alastor asked, though you couldn’t answer.

Pressure built against your asshole before it left and at the same time, the tentacle within you pulled out. It pressed against your asshole, covered in your slick. There was only so much resistance the opening could offer before it gave up the battle.

Burning pain ripped through your muscles as he forced his way inside you. It rippled and wiggled deeper and spreading you wider. Each cup that caught on the ring of muscle spent a fresh spike of pain through your body.

You couldn’t cry out. You couldn't beg for him to stop what he was doing. You couldn't do anything but take it as he spread your legs so wide the tendons ached.

“I can go deeper here,” he said as the tentacle in your ass pushed deeper still.

Sweat broke out on your back, skin cooled by the ocean breeze as he began to fuck into your ass slowly. Each thrust worked slightly deeper, pushing you to take more of him.

You burned with pain and a pleasure you were terrified to admit as he worked your body, each of his many legs working to keep you overwhelmed and under his control.

Pressure built in your stomach as you felt him in your guts. With a start, you realized you were feeling him against your guts as well.

The webbing between his arms pressed into your stomach as he looked over you.

This was it. This was when he was going to drown you. This was when you were going to die.

Instead a long, narrow tentacle unlike his arms ran along the inside of your leg. Unlike the other arms, this had no cups and was near perfectly round.

The tip was bulbous as it pressed against your tingling core.

“You've gotten slick here,”Alastor observed, much to your shame. “That’s different.” He took the gurgling sound you made as he pushed against your core with more force as a question. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, ma cherie.”

He held you, pulling you out of the water until only the your thighs down were covered. Gooseflesh broke out along your skin. Looking over at him, all you could see was the blue of the sky and the sea broken up by him, red and looming just at your hip.

Inside you, his tentacle rippled and thrust into your asshole, stretching it wider as you trembled in his grasp like frightened prey animal. The blunt head of the tentacle at your opening pushed and pushed until it breached your already sore opening with what felt like a pop.

Once your opening spread over his head, he faced little resistance pushing into you, spreading your walls over the shaft of his mating tentacle.

With his own kind, he’d simply pin down the female and insert his mating arm into her and deposit his seed. It was a rather simple procedure, unlike so many creatures, unlike humans.

He would give you the treatment the humans liked. The wide head of his member, designed to lodge inside the canal of a female and wedge itself in place, dragged against your walls.

Each thrust of the swollen member sent pleasure running through your veins. You could feel it, the ridge of the head of it dragging against the cups of the tentacle in your ass. They worked in tandem, one thrusting into you while the other was withdrawing.

Your gurgled screams turned into muffled moans as you became more aware of the suction of the cups on his arms, gripping your skin, pulling at it. They gripped your nipples with such force that it was painful. That only added to the sensations assaulting your body.

Each sensation played off the other, amplifying until you were held afloat by Alastor in a sea of pleasure. You couldn’t tell the difference between the waves of pleasure slamming into you from everywhere or the waves of water lapping at your thighs. Salt dried on your skin as your toes curled in the water.

Pressure built inside you. It was a sensation you never experienced before and before you could exam the sensation, the dam inside you burst. Waves of muscle contractions ran through your body. Your limbs struggled against the grip he had on you, fighting with the force of the contractions.

White hot pleasure was all you were aware of as he continued thrusting into your body. You screamed around the tentacle forcing itself down the back of your throat, the sound choked and yet still it echoed in your mind.

"Very interesting,” Alastor said as he pulled the tentacle from between your aching jaw. “You don’t require seed to reach climax.”

“Wha-” A tentacle wrapped around your throat as he continued thrusting into you, tightening, choking off the air.

The pleasure mixed with the wave of fear that crashed over you, heightening the pleasure that already was too much. You couldn’t gasp for air. You couldn’t beg for mercy from the monster clutching you.

He pulled your arms up, wrapping two wrist in one tentacle as he stretched your body out. The tentacle wrapped around your torso tightened, constricting your ribs. The cups of the tentacle wrapped around your upper chest pinched into your nipples. The meat of the arm crushed your breasts painfully, doing little to distract you from the pleasure coming from the tentacles thrusting into your openings.

He fattened both of the tentacles, spreading openings already pushed to their limits beyond what you thought was possible. Tears ran down your face as your stomach jumped with the struggle to pull air into your lungs.

He was going to kill you. You were sure of it.

That certainty didn’t do anything to stop the powerful orgasm that crashed into you.

The tentacle within your sensitive walls swelled, growing somehow more ridged as it pressed against the end of your tunnel painfully, pushing further than your body wanted to allow.

And then you felt it explode within you. It shot something deep into you, pushing beyond the wall at the end of your tunnel and spilling around his member. Your body was not designed to accept male fluid in the quantities he deposited inside you. You didn’t have the pocket for it needed.

The result was milky white liquid running down his tentacle as he continued thrusting into your quivering body with both appendages. His grip around your throat went slack, allowing air to rush into your lungs.

Your head lulled as you looked down, watching white drip into the water. You were too weak to cry out when he pulled first the wide, fat tentacle from your ass. The ring of muscle twitched. The cold ocean air touched you in a way you never imagined possible as your opening gaped.

The most you could manage was a whimper as he began to pull the tentacle out of your core. The fat head drug against your walls, pulling apart the tense muscles while it continued spewing more side inside of you.

The fat head of his member caught on your opening. The ring of muscle that made up your opening was stiff and unwilling to spread wider without coaxing. Your stomach rounded slightly with the amount of fluid he shot into your shuddering body. Your opening burned as salt water and his essence mixed against the tears in the delicate skin.

You were so full of what he had to give that it spurted out of your opening as soon as he forced the head of the tentacle out of you. A gush of milky white fluid surged from you, splashing onto his tentacle and into the water.

Though the gush was short lived, the leaking continued. His seed ran in rivers down your folds, dripping off the curve of your ass until he let your legs fall and he righted you. The fluid ran down your legs as he lowered you into the water.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered as the cloudy water surrounded you. Looking down, you watched as it grow whiter, milkier around your aching crotch.

You sagged as he worked his tentacles down your body, pulling them from your nipples. Red circles littered your skin as you sagged.

Finally, he reached out to you with his arms, gathering you against his cold chest. He held you to him as he worked his way through the water. Each blink of your eyelids came slower.

“Did you learn what you wanted?” Your words came out mumbled, slurred as you struggled to move your toes through the water.

“No,” Alastor said as if it didn’t matter, as if he hadn’t just taken your first time and violated you in every way you could imagine and then some.

Water sloshed as Alastor’s legs began to spread, pulling his torso up the rocks and sand.

“What a bother,” he said as your legs drug in the sand.

Your eyes fluttered open as he set you up on the beach, just out of reach of the tide. If not for the ache in your body, you’d struggle to believe the events of the night had actually happened.

You watched as a mass of tentacles undulated and pulled the torso that topped it climbed down the beach. Once he reached the waves, he leaned forward and with a splash, the next wave took him away.

If he looked back, you didn’t see it.

An hour later, your mother draped a cloak over your used body, covering your nakedness. She didn’t know how she knew she’d find you there, but she did. Perhaps it was mother’s intuition.

Perhaps she always knew it would come to this. This was where she met your father, after all. Not the man that raised you but your actual father. It was to be expected that you’d be drawn to the sea too.

“Come on, darling.” Your mother’s soothing voice filled your ears as she helped you up. “Let’s get you home.”

You couldn’t feel the ground under your legs as you took one shaky step after another. Between your legs, you could feel his seed seep out of your opening. What was once a milky liquid when the monster deposited it was now nearly gelled inside you, dribbling out ever so slightly.

“Mother?” you croaked, voice full of gravel and jaw sore.

“Shh,” she said, “we’ll get you home and taken care of. It’ll be alright.”

You closed your eyes and followed you mother, allowing her to lead you down the path toward what would be your marital home.

She was right, everything would be alright. She believed everything would be alright. That’s all you needed.

It would be alright.