Tendrils in the Trees
Rossem took another deep breath. Breathe. Sometimes, simply taking a few deep breaths could increase concentration. The steamy air was so thick it felt like he was swimming, but the ambrosial atmosphere of the sauna was more than worth it.
In the center, a series of hot coals filled the sauna with a sweltering, pleasant heat. It opened the pores and relaxed the muscles. Above it swung a hot metal censer, filled with an arcane incense. It opened the mind and relaxed the will. Rossem was resistant to its effects, though he did enjoy visiting it all the same. He loved the feeling of the steam entering his nose and lungs; the pink gas from the censer taking a slight hold on him. He licked his lips, feeling a warm and thoughtless pleasure forming around the back of his head.
His stern will and resistance was from a potion he had brewed himself and consumed earlier. The same could not be said of the other inhabitants of the sauna. They moaned. They arched their backs occasionally. They squeaked, faces trapped in a silent reverie with mouths agape. Blank faces all, and all of them completely ensconced in a tight and unyielding vacuum-seal of magical rubber. All of them were stood up right, like posters or pages in a book. Framed images of lust and pleasure, sealed up tight in a permanent moment of ecstasy. Gas had filled their lungs and long since corrupted them. They didn’t make for talkative company, but they were quite pleasant. The only openings of their thick black latex were around their eyes, and Rossem enjoyed making occasional eye contact with the now-permanent residents of the spa. He watched their glassy eyes stare at him, and occasionally roll back as they enjoyed another incense-induced orgasm.
The steam was getting a bit heavy for him, and as much as he would have enjoyed spending more time with the decor, he knew it was time to depart and cool off.
He winked at one as he shut the door, and heard the three rubber frames moaning and groaning with a subtly different tone as he shut the sauna.
Fantom smiled, having come to greet him. “I can assure you, the springs are marvelous this time of year,” she said. “You’ll never want to leave.”
He chuckled. “Much like the other guests?”
Fantom’s eyes sparkled. “No, it’ll be very different from what they experience. Getting out of a hot sauna and going to relax in some cool, fresh springs is an addictive experience. It’s right down that path, only a hundred paces into the forest.”
She couldn’t help but stare at him, taking in his body. Well-hewn, as if sculpted from marble. Barely covered by a thin towel. Glistening with sweat and water. Delicious, fragrant; she could practically lick him. The magical incense of the sauna had had no effect on his mind, but it could still be detected from quite a distance. The kind of scent, attractive and irresistible, that creatures that lived near the spa might detect.
“I’ll be joining you in a few minutes,” Fantom said. “Not as many permanent guests there to keep you company, and I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t attend to such a gracious, famous elf.”
Rossem waved her praise away, already walking down the path that Fantom had directed him. A few small signs pointed out the direction of the springs; wooden boards with pictures and letters very cutely pointing out that the best way to the springs were down the path. It was studded with ancient stones; some mossy, some bare, all of them smoothed by centuries of well-trodden visitors.
Rossem left most of his clothing behind in the main building, running his fingers through his hair. He gave off a radiant aura that was plain to anyone who saw him… and a scent that lit him up like a beacon to the rubber tentacle-creatures that preyed in the trees above the spa. The elf had seen them earlier when he first visited, with Fantom explaining that they were magically-summoned security. Knowing that they posed no threat, he paid them no heed - until they struck.
The first tentacle descended like lightning to strike at the unsuspecting elf. He’d been busy thinking about the poor, helpless princess he’d left to ‘steam’ in a cave somewhere when he heard it.
Rossem looked up, and only had a momentary flash of darkness before the top of the tentacle engulfed his head. It was a dark, chromatic black color that seemed to absorb the light of the forest in on itself, reflecting only a glossy, glistening shadow.
Inside was dark; true, true dark. He scrambled, raising his hands up high to try to tear the tentacle off of his face. It was tight, tighter than he could imagine, and he could feel its black rubber membrane stretching tight against his face. It seemed more interested in molding itself to his features than anything else. The pressure was immense, but it was uniform, coming from all over his face at the same time. He could feel it press deep against his eyes and mouth, and as he sucked in, trying to gasp for air he could only taste the rubbery ichor of its internals. The elf managed to grab at the base of the creature and pull it off just a fraction. This gave him one final gasp of air and a brief moment of light. It was enough for him to see that the dance was only beginning; another partner was to join the scene.
The tentacle lifted him up into the air, managing to maintain suction all across his head. The movement made him lose his grip, and with it any chance of escape. He flailed in the air fruitlessly, kicking wildly to try and reach one of the trees, or ideally, solid ground. There was a loud, lewd, schlorp, and audible gllp sound as the rubber construct gulped him down just a bit more. In one heavy, thick gulp, the tentacle had released its grip for just long enough to wolf him down a bit more, making his bonds tighter, tighter, ever-darker and coating him all the more.
Rossem was now grabbed from the head to the tops of his arms. He could flail his forearms, but nothing else - and it was nowhere, nowhere near enough to get the beast off of him! The elf had tried his best to resist, to punch the tentacle, to wriggle away, but it had been to no avail. And now with his hands useless, he started to squirm and twitch. Something was starting to insert itself between his open, frozen lips.
That was exactly when the second tentacle he’d seen earlier decided to strike.
Hungry, eager, and greedy, both of the tentacles at once tried to engulf the elf. He was, after all, tasty; a lewd mind, an immortal vigor, and a body that was simply too beautiful to leave free.It spread his legs wide, with smaller internal tendrils moving to grab and wrap around each of his ankles. The tendrils themselves melted into thick coatings, keeping his body wide and vulnerable as the entity slowly began to work its way up his legs, growing ever-higher.
Rossem gasped for air, gulping, and the tentacle reciprocated with a thick forceful penetration of his mouth. Rossem’s lips parted as a fat, thick tendril from the creature on his top half plunged between his lips and down his throat.
He could feel himself bulging as his belly started to fill with a sweet, strange nectar, pumped and packed full from the tentacle on top. His legs writhed in their new coating. His ears began to twitch, and they were also serviced. Smaller tendrils filled his ear canals and nose, providing him with sustenance and sounds and growing warmth.
Long, squelching, squeaking sounds. The tentacle on the bottom finally struck, grabbing his legs and going up. From the top, he was finally fully and completely engulfed. The worm swallowed, moving all the way down to his waistline with an organic and undulating schlorp. Black rubber from the waist up, leaving only his manhood and thighs free. The sounds could be heard throughout the forest. The squeaking, the licking, and also the moaning. With his mouth open and filled, he’d been grunting and groaning in fury-come-helpless arousal. His face had gone from worried to a deeply pleasured, still frozen by the ebony maw of his attacker. Anyone could see his visage, through the thick coating; its mouth open and jaw wide, the outline of his face - including eyes and nose and ears - and anyone nearby could hear his groans. His moans.
And, when the bottom tentacle met in the middle, they could hear something far more primal. The earth-shattering sensation of an orgasm was welling up inside Rossem. An orgasm was going to be pried from him, forced, his body milked… though at this point, there was no need for coercion.
Rossem arched his back, his body and mind in an ecstatic state. His toes wiggled inside the tentacle below; the one above forced his arms up, up above his head to leave his armpits vulnerable to the slightest feathers of tickling stimulation. Anyone could see that he was ecstatic. The tentacle swallowed again, and again, and again, starting around his ankles and then going up to his shapely calves, then his knees, and then further still. His face was blank, and his mind had lost track of conscious thoughts of escape.
His belly - warm and filled - seemed to radiate heat, and the rest of his body was growing just as warm, relaxed, and under control of the tentacles and their probing, seeking tendrils. From the outside, it looked as if the elf had been plugged with a fat gag, with the tentacle down his throat, bugling out and keeping him lewdly full.
And then the first one happened. An orgasm, the first of many many to come, as he arched his back. He groaned, nearly screamed into his rubbery prison. The worms were melding, molding, solidifying around him. The most intense point of pressure at all was around his manhood, as tendrils formed around his cock to pleasure, suckle, tease, and milk him dry. He shook, making an oily sound as he squirmed against the tentacles, feeling himself cum, arch his back, and tense up. He panted, trying to regain his breath, before realizing that the tentacles were breathing for him.
They controlled his body almost entirely, and now they were starting to control his mind. He could feel his willpower slipping away. The need for escape began to slip out, drifting away like his first seed, consumed by the engulfers as he was raised into the air, the worms dragging him away from the path and away from discovery.
Something was inserting itself into his rear. He shook left and right at first, feeling the oily rubber tendril circle his rear first before gently plunging itself inside. Lubricated and thick, he shouted loudly into his ‘gag’ as it packed his rear to the brim. His head rocked back and forth as he gasped, gulping and shaking left and right. The warm glow now permeated his entire being, weaving across every fiber of his body and mind like thread through a silk tapestry.
That was when he came again. Engulfed, completely, from head to toe in a tentacle-beast that was molding against him again, and again, giving him moments of loose freedom before pulling tighter. He could feel the coating loosen for just long enough for it to tighten again, letting him squirm and moan and groan and almost reach for his cock before it froze a second time. This orgasm was long, and more drawn out. He could feel himself slipping away, deeper and deeper into a trance as he was emptied. Gentle touches and the nectar in his belly massaged his sore muscles as he felt his tense body loosening.
He was throbbing. Pulsing. Reduced to a ‘meal’ for a rubber construct that intended to keep him squirming for a very, very long time. Rossem felt himself lifted high into the air, disappearing from the path and leaving only a few droplets of black rubber slime from his attackers.
The worms pulled him up and away until he was in the dark, shadowed canopy. In this isolated state, he had no thoughts - not of anything but the quiet, rubber-engulfed ecstasy. That was, until he felt something brush against his body.
A woman in a dark mask and purple cloth began to gently stroke his face. It was beautiful; perfectly tight, a loving outline of the man within. The two tentacles were still fighting over him, still struggling, each trying to engulf him further and bend his willpower more.
But there was no need; they were just tools. After all, the one who would break the elf was her. Fantom moved in close to kiss her new toy on the outline of his forehead. For a moment, she thought that she could detect the scent of the incense through the rubber… until she realized that the perfume was on her. She looked up just in time to see the black rubber maw gulping down over her shouting face, her reflexes just fast enough to ensure a fat tendril worming its way down her mouth and throat.
The forest at night was lively. The sound of crickets and owls mixed with the melody of the occasional gust of wind, bringing air through the trees. And of course, there were the other sounds… the grunts, the groans, the echoing orgiastic bliss of two black rubber-swallowed cocoons dangling high above the forest floor.