Page 4 of Twisted Desires

The lake monster slinks through the darkness like the perfect predator, and the dangerous glint in his eye has me backing up on the ledge. Oh shit. “I’m sorry, Master. Damn it. I’m not used to this. I’ve never even had a long-term boyfriend, let alone a master!” I explain.

“Well, Bethany Summers,” drawls the monster, closing the distance between us once more. “That makes three. It seems you need a heavier reminder to watch your manners. A lesson, if you will—a heavier hand.”

What does he mean? I wonder with sudden panic. What’s he going to do to me now? There’s nowhere for me to go. I’m trapped like a mouse in a dark, flooded maze.

The monster seizes my ankles with a pair of synchronized tentacles, pulling me forward so that I’m forced to lie on my back. Propped up on my elbows, fear races through me. Sinking deeper in the water until I can feel his hot breath on my cunt, he smiles as his fingers explore my folds. “I’m going to eat you until you cry, Bethany. And if you try to pull away or fight me, I’ll only make it last longer. Understood?”

A mewling whimper slips from my lips as I try to relax. Prone, exposed, and helpless, I’m completely at his mercy. “Yes, Master,” I whisper.

Chapter Four

Time loses all meaning as the tentacled lake monster chows down on me like I’m a fucking hot, crisp, soft, buttery, and sinfully sweet croissant fresh from the oven. I can’t even think straight. It’s like my cunt is a fucking puzzle box and he wrote the damn manual on it! My body shivers against the onslaught of conflicting sensations. Pleasure wars against the cold, lighting a fire within my belly to warm me, as the chill of my wet clothes and the breeze through the caves work together to steal every ounce of comfort from me.

The monster’s tongue tickles my clit, before sinking inside of me. I let my head fall back against the time-worn rock, fighting the overwhelming urge to cry. A gasp rips from me as a sudden sting sings across the flesh of my ass, shocking me. I raise my head to meet his gaze, eyes welling with tears against my will.

“You’re holding back,” he accuses, his voice like rolling thunder. “Are you ready to let go?”

“No, Master,” I answer, a surge of unexpected fire blazing to life within me.

“No? Look at that passion in your eyes, Bethany. It’s captivating. You’re willing to fight me on this, now, are you? You don’t want to make my task easy?”

Emboldened by the flames burning inside of me, I hold his gaze with as much courage and defiance as I can muster. “Why should I, Master? You hold all the strings. I’m merely your waterlogged pleasure puppet.”

“Oh, beautiful girl. You don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?” he growls. “I can’t resist a challenge. Do you truly desire to be broken? I could do it,” he promises. “You aren’t the first to have foolishly gotten lost in my lair. Or the first to have fallen prey to the Devil of Lake Superior.”

A tentacle toys with my puckered asshole, teasing me open, before slowly—ever so slowly—slithering itself in.

“I’ve had much practice over the years. If you desire it, I could draw so much ecstasy from you that you’ll wish for death’s release. It would be a shame, in a way. You are the most voluptuous goddess to have tempted me.”

“A wager, then,” I gasp as his glowing yellow gaze bores into mine, and another tentacle pries its way inside my pussy. “Fuck,” I moan, dragging out the u until I run out of breath.

The lake monster’s eyes somehow gleam all the brighter. “What kind of wager, my pretty?” he coos too softly. The tentacles inside me begin to thrust, pumping me at alternating speeds like it’s some kind of malicious team effort. “Are you sure you want to play this game with me? I must warn you. I’ve never lost a bet.”

This isn’t the meek and mild survive-the-night plan, I warn myself as his words drip over me. This is playing with fire! But within the dappled moonlit shadows of the Devil’s Island caves, I feel compelled to follow the light inside of me that rages against the darkness. I might be a larger woman. And I might be most men’s drunken mistake or second choice. But I am not a victim. Some ancient, angry, and defiant part of me refuses to be. It screams: Break me! Do your worst. But I will not go quietly!

My heart swells with the courage of every woman in history to have faced a monster and lived to tell the tale. Not because they took what was coming to them, but because they refused to be tamed. I will not just weather the storm. I will fucking ride the storm! As two more tentacles fiddle with my poor, oversensitive nipples, I grit my teeth. “I’ve never been surer, Master,” I snarl.

“Color me intrigued, Bethany. State your terms.”

The monster tries to scatter my wits, driving his meaty appendages deeper inside of me, pumping me in both holes with a maddening vengeance. Panting against the pleasure that would rob me of my rational mind, I flex my cold, white fingers against the stone, my short nails scraping against its time-worn surface. What’s something he has no control over? What’s something I’m really fucking good at? I rake my mind for options, scouring my brain for something—anything remotely viable—when it occurs to me. “If I can make you come with my mouth, you let me leave when the sun rises, alive and unharmed.” I declare. If nothing else, I’m more than confident in my ability to blow a mean dick. A half-human-like monster’s cock couldn’t be that different, right? A man’s a fucking man!

“And if I win?” he presses.

“State your terms, Master,” I counter, feeling smug.

With his eerie glowing eyes focused on my face, he rubs his chin like an authentic villain deep in thought. “You are strong and brave, Bethany Summers. And I have no desire to end your life. But if you fail to make me come with that divine, pouty little mouth of yours, then you will remain here with me. You will be my mate, and together we will bring little tentacled devils into this world.”

I hear his words as clearly as a clarion bell through the rapture assaulting my body. Mother of monsters? I want to respond, to fight, to do something! But in the next instant the monster descends upon me, tentacles still fucking and teasing my flesh in a cacophony of traumatic bliss that has me bucking and thrashing like a worm on a hook. A keening wail tries in vain to slip from my lips but is caught and silenced as he wraps me up in his arms and kisses me, his lips capturing mine with such feverish hunger and passion that it’s the final straw.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I experience my second earth-shattering orgasm. It feels like my soul is being physically ripped from my goddamn body. I can feel everything and nothing all at once. My cunt spasms and contracts as wave after crippling tidal wave surges through me with tyrannical brutality, setting every single nerve ablaze, immolating me from within. The monster is inside me, on me, and all around me. His breath is mine, and mine is his.

To my deep shame I thrust against his hard form and vicious tentacles, desperate to eke out every ounce of ecstasy. It’s like my body is my own worst enemy as it melts into the monster, allowing him access to the deepest, most sacred and virginal parts of me that exist—parts of me that will never be the same again.

And in the back of my mind, as I ride the breaking wave of paradoxical pleasure like a frenzied valkyrie, a dark thought emerges. What if he’s ruined me for all men? Even if I survive this, what if no man can hold a candle to the raging inferno of dark, tentacled devilry that is my monstrous master? The very idea is deeply and disturbingly sobering.

Chapter Five

“When you’re ready,” says the monster, observing the mess of humanity that was once me lying in a languid pile, the waters of Lake Superior sloshing at the edges of my perch.

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