Squidboy

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SQUIDBOY

EJ Allerie

PART 1

“In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulu waits dreaming”

— H.P. Lovecraft

This is how it began.

My brother and I were at the opera. James had given me the glasses, and although I was looking through them, I was not watching the performance. Instead, my eyes were fixed on a particular member of the audience. My heart pounded as I watched him from afar. Tall, broad-shouldered, his handsome face clean-shaven, his features rugged and masculine, I felt my trousers tightening instantly. He was perfection, exactly my type. His dark hair was slicked back with a certain disregard. A smile played about his lips as he watched the performance, and suddenly, he turned his head and looked straight at me.

I dropped the opera glasses from my face immediately, feeling my excitement giving way to embarrassment. I handed the glasses back to my James.

“What do you think?” he asked, quietly, so as not to disturb the performance.

“He saw me,” I whispered back.

“And?” James grinned. “What do you think?”

“Well, I love everything about him. His dark brown hair, his hazelnut eyes, his smooth pink lips, his muscles.”

“His arse?” James offered.

I turned beet red. Though James and I were equal in our looks—boyishly thin, lightly tanned skin and freckled noses, with windswept dirty blond hair and a roguish charm in our appearance—our personalities could not have been more different. If there really was such a thing as good and evil twins, James was certainly the evil one. Wild, impulsive, and devilishly wicked, James seemed to have no shame, even when it came to our shared inclination for older gentlemen. Gentlemen like the man I’d been staring at through the opera glasses. Me, on the other hand? Well, I was James’s opposite. Quiet, shy, reserved, and I did feel shame. I felt it plainly. But I wasn’t willing to let my brother see that. Not now, not with the game at stake.

“Yes,” I said, challenging him. “That too.”

My brother’s countenance softened. He gestured to our mark. “Do you know who he is?”

I shook my head. “Do you?”

“I do,” he answered. “And if you want to back out of our little dare, now’s the time. I’ll tell you everything I know about him, but only after I know you’re in.”

I looked away from my brother, back to my target. Even at a distance, he was gorgeous. Everyone else in the opera hall seemed to fade away as I watched him. Nothing else mattered. I wanted him so badly. Even if the game wasn’t at stake, I needed to have him.

“I’m in,” I answered.

“Good.”

The song ended, and applause broke out. James had to wait for the applause to die down before he could continue. Then, as promised, he explained everything.

“That’s Sir Victor Tyrell. A bachelor, even at his age, he’s never taken a wife. Naturally, there are rumours floating about as to why. Sir Victor doesn’t care for women. He prefers young men, such as ourselves.”

“Sounds like this will be easy,” I said, “Why pick him? I thought you wanted to challenge me.”

“Wait, I haven’t finished. He prefers young men, but he has a type.”

“What type?” I asked.

“Have you heard of the Yellow Tiger Club?”

I had heard of it, but I didn’t know much about it. “It’s a brothel,” I answered.

“Not just any brothel. The Yellow Tiger Club specializes in men with certain unique attributes.”

“Like what?” I asked, frightened of what his answer might be. “Have you been there?”

“Of course!” James answered with a laugh, “I’ve been everywhere. Oh, let me tell you about the Yellow Tiger Club, so named because the master of the club has skin striped yellow and black, like a tiger—”

I gasped, interrupting him.

“And a tail,” James concluded.

I stared in stupefied silence, as my brother continued to detail the boys of the notorious Yellow Tiger Club. One of the boys, he explained, to my mortification, had an extra cock, just below the first. One was a contortionist, and could fit his entire body into a little box.

“Imagine what else he can do,” James added.

Another was supposed, according to my brother, to have a three-foot long tongue. One was a giant, nearly eight feet tall, and entirely proportional, based on James’s findings. Another, a dwarf, not proportional in all things. Indeed, in some regards, my brother said, the dwarf was the real giant.

“What does this have to do with Sir Victor?” I asked, afraid I’d already guessed the answer.

“Well, I said that he is supposed to have a type, did I not?” James answered. “Indeed, Sir Victor is a regular visitor of the Yellow Tiger Club. I’m told he never visits any other brothels. He does not care for ordinary boys.”

“This is a challenge I can’t win,” I protested. “You deliberately picked Sir Victor, knowing I could never have him.”

“On the contrary…”

I raised an eyebrow. My brother knew perfectly well that I had no unusual attributes to allure Sir Victor. After all, we were identical twins, and he had no such attributes himself.

“I’ve made arrangements with a certain doctor, who’s been conducting some rather unusual experiments. He swears by a certain procedure that he believes can give you some rather peculiar attributes that will undoubtedly draw Sir Victor’s attention, if you’re willing to go through with it. That is, unless you’d like to forfeit.”

I steeled my jaw. I’d already lost two of James’s challenges. I wasn’t willing to lose another dare, to give him something else to hold over me. This time, I was going to win, no matter what it took.

“Just tell me what I have to do.”

James grinned and slapped me on the back. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. Even in the dim light, I could see an address written on it. The address of the doctor who was to perform this procedure on me, who would give me these unusual attributes that would allow me to seduce Sir Victor Tyrell. I nodded, thrusting the piece of paper into my own pocket, and slipping quietly out of the opera hall even as the performance continued. I had no idea what was in store for me.

***

An old, gothic mansion stood at the top of the hill, a long flight of rickety wooden steps leading the way to its door. The windows were dark, the curtains drawn. Vines crept along the side of the house like tendrils exploring the brickwork.

The steps groaned in complaint as I climbed the staircase up to the house and stepped beneath the archway, second-guessing myself the entire time. My skin pricked and I shivered beneath my coat, though the night was mild. I summoned whatever nerve I had, and even as my hand trembled with hesitation, I grabbed the brass knocker and tried it. A low thrum resounded through the thick door. A minute passed, and all I could hear were the crickets in the garden. I noticed a placard on the door as I waited. The R’lyeh Manor, it read. Another minute went by in that same near-silence, and by then I really was ready to turn around. It was clear that no one was at home, and I would have to return in the morning.

Then, without warning, the door swung open. I had expected a butler to answer, but the man who stood before me was dressed in a stark white lab coat and had a pair of brass goggles atop his bald head. He was thin, but surprisingly muscular for a man of his profession. I noticed a scar that ran down his long forehead, across his eyebrow, all the way down to his cheek. His skin was a pale, sickly colour.

“Hello,” I began, “I got this address from my brother. My name is—”

“Ethan?” he guessed, looking me up and down with his eyes, and putting his hands on my shoulder. I tried not to squirm beneath his grasp or let it show on my face. “Yes, your brother mentioned you would be coming. Remarkable. You look just like him.”

“Twins,” I said, with an awkward laugh.

“Yes, that’s right,” he seemed to remember, letting his hands trail from my shoulders to my waist in what seemed to be an absent-minded manner. “Even so…” he added, and trailed off. He seemed to catch himself, and pulled his hands away from my body.

I stood awkwardly at the door, doubting my mission once more. Would I really be able to go through with this procedure my brother had arranged for me? And a worse thought occurred to me. What would the doctor expect as payment for his services? He wasn’t entirely unattractive, but he certainly wasn’t my type, with his bookish, pale face, his large nose, and expansive forehead. And if his wandering hands were any indication, I was certainly his type.

Then, of course, I had to remind myself of what was at stake here. The game my brother and I were playing was hardly child’s play. The truth was that at eighteen, I was still a virgin. Although my brother had been exploring his sexuality from a young age and had already had dozens of sexual partners, I never had. It wasn’t that I was incapable of finding a man who would be willing; after all, I shared my brother’s good looks, and he’d never had trouble. I was simply more particular about the men I wanted to sleep with. I had a type. James' type was everyone. Eventually, my brother began to become concerned.

“Carry on like this,” he warned, “and you’ll be a virgin for life.”

Thus, our game began. These were the rules. I needed to lose my virginity before my nineteenth birthday. James got to choose my partner, and I was to seduce him. I had only three chances. I had already passed on the first two, meaning Sir Victor was my third and final shot at winning the game. And if I lost, James would win something he’d always wanted. I had promised that if I lost the game, James could fuck me himself.

My brother delighted in taboo. The thought of an incestuous affair was nothing if not exciting to him. To me, the very idea was mortifying. I could not afford to lose this game. Whatever the cost, I would seduce Sir Victor. And if this doctor could help me, I would do just about anything…

“Doctor—”

“Dr. Howard Phillips Lustcraft,” he said, by way of introduction.

“Dr. Lustcraft, my brother mentioned you might be able to help me—”

Again the doctor interrupted me. “Yes, yes, everything’s ready. As I said, I’ve been expecting you. Please, follow me,” he added, swinging the door wide.

I followed Dr. Lustcraft into the house, wondering what I was getting myself into, but knowing that my questions would soon be answered. As he led the way down a flight of stone steps, the cold air announced that we were descending to the basement. I felt goosebumps creeping up my arms.

The way was lit by gaslight. Specimens in jars lined the shelves along the wall, preserved in formaldehyde. I began to notice a common theme. Tentacles. Squids, octopus, jellyfish, even some exotic plant species with winding tendrils unlike anything I’d ever seen. The doctor said nothing as we descended, but he flashed me what was surely meant to be a reassuring smile as we arrived on the landing and he unlocked the basement door.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the lab, a massive room with a high ceiling and brick walls, was clean and clinical. Surgical equipment was kept neatly on the shelves, the silver tools polished to a glistening sheen. A collection of brass goggles like the doctor was wearing were hung neatly on hooks along one wall. A set of shelves displayed still more tentacled specimens. Each and every jar was carefully labelled.

But what drew my eye, what truly astonished me, was the vast tank of water that took up the majority of the lab’s space. The tank was below ground, a broad rectangular pool, filled to the brim. It smelt like the ocean, so I imagined it was filled with saltwater. In the dim light, I couldn’t see to its bottom, and could only guess what it contained.

As I looked back to the doctor, I thought I saw a ripple in the water’s surface and something flick out of the water, but when I looked back to the pool, the water was still and calm. No trace of whatever had made the ripple. Something drew me closer to the tank. I’m not entirely sure what the sound was, a low hum coming from the pool, rhythmic, pulsing—whatever it was, it had entranced me. Nearer, ever nearer, I followed its sound to the edge of the pool, oblivious to the doctor’s voice, until suddenly, I felt his hand on my shoulder.

I started, coming out of the trance with such suddenness it made me gasp for air. I blinked in confusion as I came out of the trance. Looking down at my feet, I saw that I was already ankle deep in the water. I stepped back in alarm.

“Remarkable,” said the doctor.

This only added to my confusion. “What just happened?” I asked him.

As if to comfort me, again he put his hand on my shoulder, and guided me to a wooden chair next to his workbench. I sat down, and the doctor sat facing me. He pulled the chair closer, placing his ever-groping hand on my leg. To my surprise, I found I didn’t mind. I felt intoxicated, nearly to the point of delirium, but more than that. Whatever that sound was, it had aroused me beyond control. I wished the doctor would slide his hand further up my leg, so he could feel my hardness. I tried to think of other thoughts, but it was difficult. What had come over me?

“I’m sorry. I should have prepared you before we came down here. It’s just, that’s never happened before. Not like that, anyway. I think…” he mused, rubbing his hand absently up and down my leg, “I think, for lack of an explanation, that it likes you.”

“Doctor, what likes me?”

“Beg your pardon?” Lustcraft asked, retracting his hand as if I’d just said something offensive.

“Doctor, what’s in the pool?”

“You mean…” he said, “Your brother didn’t explain?”

“Only that you could help me. He said you could conduct a procedure that might allow me to seduce Sir Victor Tyrell.”

“Oh dear,” muttered the doctor. “Oh dear, oh dear. I must apologize. I thought you were aware. Oh, well, I shall have to do my best to explain.” He returned his hand to its position on my leg, caressing my thigh familiarly. Again, I tried to think of other things, but I felt myself hardening at his touch. “The thing in the tank,” he began to explain, “has many tentacles.”

He stopped there, uncertain how to continue.

“Like an octopus?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered, then immediately corrected himself, “And no. Well, yes, like an octopus, but not. It’s not really a creature at all, not in the usual sense. You see, it wasn’t born or hatched, or anything like that. It was created, here in this lab. Engineered, using material taken from existing creatures—squid, octopus, jellyfish, even some rare species of plants discovered in the jungles of Africa and the rainforests of South America.”

“An engineered being?” I asked.

“Merely engineered parts,” he answered, letting his hand creep further up my leg. I didn’t complain. “These tentacles aren’t attached to any body. They’re attached to a machine, made of clockwork parts, gears and sprockets.”

“But you said it liked me?”

“These tentacles, they have some unusual attributes. Although they aren’t attached to any body, they seem to respond to certain people in unique ways. They respond to sexual attraction, in particular, and they emit powerful pheromones to intoxicate their prospective mates.”

“Mates?” I said in alarm.

“Yes,” Lustcraft answered. “You see, that’s the procedure your brother alluded to. You’ll need to engage them sexually, and the tentacles will bond with you. They’ll become a part of you, able to respond to your will, able to seduce anyone you desire.”

Sighing heavily as he spoke, it took a monumental effort on my part to look the doctor in the eye, and tell him that he was out of his mind. I wanted nothing more than to strip out of my clothes and let him have his way with me. Perhaps these engineered tentacles really could emit pheromones. What else could explain my intense arousal? But what Dr. Lustcraft was saying was utter nonsense.

“You want me to fuck an octopus?” I snorted.

“It’s not an octopus,” he answered, with a sigh. “It may be organic, but it doesn’t have a brain, remember. It’s no more an octopus than a strand of hair plucked from your head is a human being. Detached from the head, it’s nothing more than organic material.”

I tried to wrap my head around the thought, but found I couldn’t shake the idea of what he was asking me to do. “He wants me to fuck an octopus,” I said to myself.

“Yes, yes, fine, I want you to fuck an octopus,” Lustcraft muttered. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

“This is insane.” I stood up and made to leave, but as I did, I heard that low pulsing music coming from the water. I put my hand on my groin and groaned softly. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe I really was as perverted as my brother.

“Undress,” I heard Dr. Lustcraft’s voice, as if from afar, “and get into the pool.”

***

One layer at a time, I stripped down in front of the prying eyes of Dr. Lustcraft. I tossed my shirt onto the chair back, bearing my freckled shoulders and holding the doctor’s rapt attention. Shyly, I unbuttoned my suspenders and set these down on the chair as well. I shivered in the cold air of the basement and again turned my back to the doctor as I began to unbutton my pants.

The water rippled. I saw the tip of a tentacle flicking out of the pool, and this time, I was certain of what it was. It filled me with an unexplainable and maddening desperation, and I was certain that even if the doctor was mad, there was at least some truth to what he said. The pool of quivering tentacles really did have some power over sexual attraction, whether through their emission of pheromones or by some other explanation. Frantically, I unbuttoned my trousers and let them fall to the floor, eager to climb into the water. I can offer no explanation for the madness that overtook me, but whatever fear and apprehension I’d had, it was now replaced with an eagerness to let those slimy tentacles grope my body.

Behind me, I heard the doctor groan with pleasure, as I slipped out of my underwear and stepped toward the murky pool. I glanced back for reassurance and saw that the doctor had taken his manhood out of his pants and was pleasuring himself while he watched on. I snorted in disgust, but he made no effort to hide what he was doing, and for my part, I hardly cared. I let him watch as I waded into the shallows.

The water was surprisingly warm on my bare skin, an eerie mist drifting atop the water. I waded deeper, letting the water lap against my thighs, and deeper still, until the rippling water slapped against my bare ass.

I felt something flutter past my ankle, but I could see nothing beneath the water. In the dim light, the surface of the water was a mirror, reflecting my own trembling face back at me. Again, something touched me, higher up my leg this time, and it felt like a school of minnows swimming past while skinny dipping. The next time something touched me, it was from behind. I gasped, breathless with fear and excitement. I had no idea what was about to happen, but I was strangely amenable to letting the tentacles explore me.

They probed my willing body further, less tentatively with every touch. They ran up and down my legs, curled around my thighs, wrapped around my waist. Suddenly, squeezing my body with all the power of a boa constrictor, the tentacles dragged me deeper, until I was nearly up to my shoulders in the saltwater pool. I gasped in surprise, forgetting everything but my own fear and strange arousal.

The tentacles relaxed then, seeming to sense my fear. Gently this time, they wrapped themselves around my body, caressing me with all the gentleness of a lover. It felt like a thousand soft hands touching me, and I thrilled under their devoted attention. I let out a low moan as I felt them groping me.

One large tentacle slipped out of the water, curling its long fleshy length before my wondering eyes. Above the water, I could see it clearly. It seemed, somehow, like it was looking back at me. Then it slipped beneath the water again and began to probe its way down my body. It began at my chest and worked its way lower, lower. It probed my nipple as it made its way down my body, and seemed to respond to my moans of pleasure, by lingering there. Somehow, its many suckers felt mouth-like, as if someone was licking me. I gasped in surprise at the sensation. It continued its exploration.

Lower, lower, down it went, running its length down my chest to my stomach, tickling my navel and curling its tip into the hairs beneath my waist. It tugged on them, and I bit my lip in pain, but it was not unenjoyable. As if it sensed that it had hurt me, it relaxed its grip on my hair and continued its exploration further still.

At last, it curled itself around my eager cock. I could hardly contain my pleasure as it gripped me. I closed my eyes and breathed hard. Its grip tightened and relaxed, and as I reached out as if for more, it tightened again. Anxiously, I waded still further into the water. The other tentacles lifted me by my legs and my hips so that I no longer needed to touch the floor of the pool, nor did I need to tread water to stay afloat.
It continued to explore its motions, experimenting with what motions made me tremble most in response. It seemed to settle on an up-and-down motion that felt like a hand performing the same motion. Its grip was firm but not rough, its rhythm controlled and measured. I breathed hard and began to sweat, even in the lukewarm water and cool air of the doctor’s basement.

I trembled as the disembodied tentacles stroked me, gradually increasing in tempo and force, like a symphony building to a crescendo. Just when I began to think I couldn’t hold it in anymore, it eased off. I continued to pant, desperate for more, but the water stilled as the tentacles released my manhood.

Again, while the rest continued to hold my body afloat, the large tentacle resumed its exploration of my body. As if the tentacles were of one mind, they managed to curl themselves around me and flip me over so I was face down above the water. Then I felt the large tentacle caressing me from behind, roughly squeezing my cheeks and gently but surely prizing them apart. I cried out in surprise and fear, but I felt strangely exhilarated.

I could only imagine what was to come next. The sensation of the strange tentacles probing my anus was unlike anything I can describe. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt another fleshy tentacle once again stroking me between my legs. All the while, the large tentacle continued to explore my hole, gently teasing my cheeks apart, and stretching the opening wider. My cock throbbed as the tentacles stroked me, so that what came next was an intense mix of pleasure and extreme pain. With no further warning, the tentacle entered me from behind.

I think I screamed, then, and it was like the scream of a wild animal being killed by a fierce predator. I could feel the fleshy tentacle inside of me, stretching me so violently I thought it might rip me apart. After a few seconds, though, the soothing salt water and the tentacles’ soft caress allowed me to catch my breath. Pain became pleasure again as the tentacles eased into a gentle rhythm.

I found myself not merely relaxing but becoming wild with sexual desire. I felt my pleasure building to a fervor. I began to take control, no longer merely content to let the tentacle explore me, but desperate for more. I wanted to feel it deeper, harder, and I demonstrated my desire by rocking myself up and down on the flesh-like tentacle, building into an intense up-and-down motion like riding a wild stallion.

The tentacle responded in kind until it was pounding me. I breathed hard, moaning wildly as one tentacle pounded me from behind and the rest stroked me between my legs. We kept this up for what felt somehow like both an eternity and only a single moment, until at last, I knew I could contain myself no more.

I cried out with pleasure and told the creature not to stop, as if it could understand English. For all I knew, perhaps it could. I panted for breath and reached for something to hold on to. The tentacles responded, letting my hold onto them. My toes curled, my knees went weak, and I groaned with pleasure as I climaxed, shooting a load of milky white fluid into the water.

The tentacles thrashed like a school of fish fighting over bread crumbs tossed into a pond. When they stilled, there was no trace of any semen left in the pool. I wasn’t sure what they’d done with it; it was as if they’d somehow opened their mouths and swallowed it. If they had mouths. Again, I didn’t know enough about them to know that they didn’t.

Panting for breath, my manhood quickly going flaccid, the tentacle inside me had ceased its pounding rhythm and gone still. But it wasn’t over. Not yet. In fact, that moment was when things really began.

I heard the distinctive clanging motion of gears turning, metal scraping against metal, a clock-like click, and the tentacle inside me came loose from the machine the doctor had described earlier.

I heard the doctor’s voice as if from afar. “Yes!” he cried triumphantly. In the corner of my eye, I could see him standing at the edge of the pool with his cock still out, dripping from having pleasured himself while watching me.

What came next I can hardly describe with any accuracy, in part because I lost consciousness shortly thereafter, and in equal part because I didn’t understand what was happening at the time. Still basking in the post-coital afterglow of my orgasm, I let out a delirious sigh as I felt the tentacle slithering from inside me. Then it slipped further inside me, deeper and deeper it slithered into my body, until I was sure its entire length had disappeared into my body, stretching me apart from the inside. My eyes went wide and I screamed in horror. Still, it wasn’t over.

After the first of the tentacles had crawled inside me, another one followed, and another one still. They crawled inside, ripping my body apart violently, and finally, mercifully, I lost consciousness.
When I came to, I was lying prone on the doctor’s table. Still naked. Still wet. There was something different about me though. I could feel it, instinctively.

I saw that my hands had been strapped down. I twisted my hands, trying to get free of my bonds, and in response, a pair of tentacles reached up and began to untie the straps. When they were finished, I managed to sit up, coughing with the effort. My feet were likewise strapped down. I reached down to untie them, and again the tentacles responded in kind. I blinked in confusion, only gradually regaining my senses. As I did, I finally realized what was different about me.

The tentacles. They were a part of me.

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Keeping erotica weird,

EJ Allerie

All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by reading this excerpt.  Copyright © 2016 by EJ Allerie