[ inception ] [ fanfic / afanfic ] [ dis / trade / srs / projects / 3d / fanart / afanart / oek / tits / rpg / dumps / cosplay ] [ offtopic / vg / zombies / gay / resources / upl ]
Return Entire Thread Last 50 posts First 100 posts

No. 2293
This is the beginning of the promised rewrite! - The first 1/3 will be the same overall (then things will begin to really differ after Lance comes in). However, there have been LOTS of tweaks, an altered origin story, and added details with animal/anatomy, cause that's the most fun part. So if you have read it I'd give it another look.

OBLIGATORY WARNING - NAMED TF2 CHARACTERS. I got an okay to post this here - they really are just the classes with names and mild realistic individuality, and dash of gay.

So here is the first chunk all at once, it has (chapters) 'parts' if you need to stop at any point :

...

---Part 1---

They told horror stories about Respawn.

It was supposed to be a new technology to save lives...but just months after its instatement already the men stationed at The Well felt like guinea pigs with a Russian roulette gun pointed at their temples.

Some people got sick from Respawn, the shakes, night terrors, seizures. At the same time, some remained unaffected; fresh has daisies when the machine spit them out. It seemed quite ‘choosy’. The worst, of course, was that sometimes it did the very opposite of what it was designed to do – it could kill you. People had been fried by Respawn if they went through too many times in a week, or the power levels dipped too low, or your respawn was after hours, any number of factors...

The Respawn machine was indeed fickle mistress.

That was why the mercenaries actually gave two shits about calling for a medic. The medigun could heal you up in a jiffy, giving you one less pull of the trigger with that respawn roulette gun.

But it’s hard to call for a medic when you are tossed into the water.

“AGGnnn!” The BLU team’s only Spy was thrown into the canal, tossed by a blast from a soldier’s rocket launcher. He’d have survived if he could have made it to the tunnels, but the same RED solider followed after him to finish the job. ”Bon voyage Crouton!” The American chuckled as the rocket fired.

The Spy didn’t have time to dodge, even if it all seemed to happen in slow motion. He was always so careful, so sneaky; the worst he ever got was spy check burns, which thankfully respawn or the mediguns fixed. But he’d never been gibbed in the water, and it was so close to ceasefire...

His mid section was blown clear apart, guts and blood spilling into the water. In a foolish reflex, he’d put his hands down to try and block the attack. Those were blown off nicely too. Since his head was mostly unharmed, he had a few moments to watch the world go dark as he bled out, and to see his mangled body. His finely tailored suit was like confetti among intestine streamers as the Spy drifted in the waterway.

The ceasefire bell rang just as the BLU Spy sank to the bottom, dead at last.

The Respawn machines automatically lowered their power levels after ceasefire, sensing no more bodies in the pick up system. The Spy was left waterlogged for a good half hour, forgotten. His team did not wonder where he was at dinner; the Spy was frequently out of sight, off on his own. That was what Spies did. So it was not thought of again.

...

The Frenchman’s balaclava was partially blown off, making his short, dark, and slightly curly hair a tangle for some young fish to pick through. There were lots of small aquatic creatures in the canals, for the irrigation-like canals at Well led out to rivers, which were a trickle at their desert like location, but fed out to larger ones far away. Any small river fish, crawdad, and frog that could squeeze through the grates made it in, and would feed on the bits of blood and flesh that Respawn did not pick up. The system often left behind ‘extraneous’ appendages that it could just reconstruct - blown off legs, fingers, toes; all good scavenging for the freshwater wildlife. The fish would grow and become too big to make it back through the grates, making the canals like little ecosystems.

The fish scattered like a fluff of disturbed feathers as the Spy’s body zapped out of existence, finally recovered by respawn.

...

The BLU team, who was sitting down to dinner, startled as they heard a *KZZATTCChhh*. The lights flickered...right before all the power went out entirely.

“Wot the bloody ‘ell...?” The marksman snorted to the darkness.

There was a silence before the Scout burst out laughing.

“Shuddap!” The Soldier barked, aggravated and hungry, not liking being unable to see his dinner.

“Did we blow a fuse or somethin’?” The BLU Engineer scrunched up his nose. Soon the rest of the team was poking him to go fix it, because that was his job right? The Engineer grumbled it was BLU industries job to make sure their equipment was working, the lazy bastards.

He went over to the breaker box, and indeed found the Respawn circuit tripped. It had shorted out the rest of the base. He grunted in annoyance, but was then pleased as he could easily fix the issue and be a ‘hero’ to the rest of the waiting team. A quick flick over of the breaker switches, and the team gave an amused cheer from the kitchen. Anything different was welcomed to the monotony of the work week, they’d be stationed at Well a long time with no transfer.

The breaker box was in the locker room just outside Respawn. A wispy cloud of amino acid-laced smoke spewed out of the Respawn room as the missing member of their team finally materialized. The BLU Engineer drew closer; confused as to why someone was re-spawning after ceasefire...

He gawked as the smoke cleared; unsure if what he was seeing was real.

...
...
...
---Part 2---

When he awoke, the Spy found himself strapped down, and being prodded over by Team Fortress Industries BLU crewmembers.

The company got wind of the ‘malfunction’ right away, and stepped in to ‘correct’ the problem. They had no idea how Respawn could cause someone’s genetic make up to alter so completely, and so neatly. They sent the Spy though multiple respawns, with various settings and injected drugs, trying to make the system restore his original pattern. However, the system believed the combined animal and human DNA to BE his original signature. The scientists were a bit baffled. How did the foreign DNA get in there to begin with?

Of course there was no original backup on hand... it would cost too much to store such high-memory data with redundancy.

“Je vous en prie....please....no more...” The Spy was mumbling to deaf ears, not fully aware of his surroundings (or much of anything) because of the drugs. Why did he feel so dry? Why was breathing so hard? He groaned at the lights overhead and the straps holding him down.

“I don’t think we can fix it...”
“What about his contract...?”
“Cover it up, no one will know. He’s a Spy, his identity is already shadowed… like he doesn’t exist. They’ll find a replacement in a few weeks.”
“What do we do with him then - ?”

“Dispose of him.”

They wiped his data from the system, and prepared lethal injection doses, unaware from the viewing deck wide eyes were looking down upon them.

It was a middle aged German man, the doctor technician in charge of keeping the complex bio patterns for the BLU’s respawn machines in check.

BLU had been trying for years to auto regulate the patterns, but computers had not yet caught up to how to recognize minute nuances. They still required a human element to periodically weed out the different from the ‘okay to be different’ pieces, otherwise the computer would respawn the men as they were at their last original pattern scan – including hormone levels, stomach contents, hair growth, and most important – memory. It was the reason respawn was not perfect; it still had a human behind the wheel to keep those elements in check.

He had taken over for the previous technician who had left....that man had developed the whole system. No doubt he was relaxing on a beach somewhere, paid handsomely by BLU for his inventions. While equally brilliant, the scientist in charge now felt his own genius was completely ignored. He was nothing more than a caretaker, a baby sitter. He felt everyone on the behind the scenes team looked at him as such.

So he decided to work on something of his own, something that would make BLU single him out for as HIS work- his invention.

He kept it a secret from everyone. That day he finally put his computations into the respawn system. Watching on the Administrator cameras, he saw the Spy blown conveniently into the water before the ceasefire bell. No one would miss him for 30 minutes; his body would be hidden. Surreptitiously, he quickly got to work. He needed the extra time to mix his altered patterns with that on file for the Spy...
Now here he was, staring down at his work, it was successful in that the Spy was ALIVE, and not a pile of protein goo. Now the question was - was he the perfect perfected killing machine he had intended to create? Surely BLU should recognize his genius – bioengineered soldiers, fit for any terrain. Sea, land, and air could be conquered, without the need of machines! This was only the start...
The German brashly came into the room, smug and blinded by his own ego.
He revealed the altered Spy was his doing, and explained how he did it. The half aware Spy just barely heard what he was saying, but he could not process it at that moment. The other technicians stared at him, not sure whether to be shocked, scared, or impressed.
However the reception he received was not as glorious as he had envisioned.
The Administrator was not pleased. The heads of BU were not pleased. They wanted people who answered to them, not sneaking about and doing things behind their backs. Half animal soldiers? Such nonsense.
The German was hauled away, cursing and screaming. He was to be dealt with appropriately. As for his experiment? He pleaded with them to let him study it, to not destroy it. It was proof of his success! Proof of his genius!
As he was handcuffed and the door to the respawn room closed, all he saw was that lethal injection needle coming up to the altered Spy.
...
...
...


--- Part 3 ---

They could dissect him – see exactly the damage the Respawn doctor had done. The Spy did not even have time to think about why he couldn’t quite feel his legs, or what that mass of writhing was from his hips down. He was just aware enough of that ominous needing coming for him. It would mean his final death.

Instinct kicked in.

The other DNA in him said ‘ESCAPE’.

The doctors all screamed as half-dried tentacles ferociously struck out, tearing through leather restraints and knocking over metal tools. Guards came in the room, momentarily shocked at the speed and strength long enough for one of the doctors to be violently ripped apart like a piñata. Bullets flew, purple blood splattered against the walls. An inhuman snarl, a flash of claws and fangs was all they saw before the gunmen were bloodily dispatched.

With a damaged cloaking device, the injured Spy was tailed by more TFI guards right into the war game compound. A few of his old team caught sight of what was going on. They watched as their former Spy was riddled with bullets, and kicked into the sewers like garbage. While they wanted to understand what had happened, in the heat of the moment it was easier just to forge the whole thing happened. The altered Spy was dead, the German doctor imprisoned, it was done with.

…

However, they had miscalculated the altered Spy’s ability to heal.

He survived…barely.

The BLU Medic wondered where some of his med kits disappeared off to. But it was not worth worrying about for too long.

The former BLU Spy tended to his wounds with a distant demeanor, like running on autopilot. His body dragged him to a dark, sheltered corner of the pipe-ways in the canal, where it felt safe. He was instantly asleep - exhausted, stressed and confused. It was only after he was out of danger, and had a full night’s sleep at the bottom of the canal, that he could wake up and really realize what’d become of him and where he was.

“Tut Alor…..”

He gawked at himself, and tried to push it away like he could escape from his own body. HIS body, that writhing mass was part of HIM. He tore off his tattered pinstripe suit to inspect himself fully, to touch and confirm it was real. He thought he was still wearing his thin leather gloves, but he could not be because they surely wouldn’t have fit over the webbing that now stretched between his fingers. His hands were the same color as the dark aged leather. The color tapered off just before his elbows into a mass of spots.

He was loosely spotted elsewhere, all along the sides of his face, down his sides...where there was now a set of what appeared to be gills - they had to be considering he was underwater and breathing comfortably. Scraggly frills ran down the once damaged skin behind his arms and backbone.

Then there were the tentacles.

Where his legs used to be, was a massive curling pile of tentacles; large and muscular, like a kraken, with fleshy, prehensile suckers from base to tip. They kind of did their own thing, exploring and gripping to the sides of the pipe and the edge of it where it led to the open water. When he thought of them, or even just one, suddenly they flowed under his conscious control. But as his mind wandered so did the appendages. He distantly watched the tip of one curling over his hand; it was like he was watching someone else. Were these things really...him? Part of his body?

‘…what’s that?'

His head jerked over; a tentacle exploring out into the open water gave him some interesting feedback, something the more primitive part of his brain liked. He darted out, not thinking much about it. Thinking would make him have to come to terms with his current situation. His brain could not handle any more stress right now. But his damaged body, it knew it needed to heal, and to do that it needed energy, it needed food.

A nicely-sized catfish was what he sensed. It was quickly caught with a single tentacle, reeled in, and torn apart, fangs sinking into the sweet flesh. It was a female too, full of eggs. It was delicious to the starving altered Spy. Was it alright to eat the raw meat? Rip and crunch through the bones with his teeth? Running on auto pilot though - he did not think about those things too deeply.

The Spy sank to the bottom, coiling up on himself like a sated snake. Each finger was licked clean for every morsel of the prey. He then suddenly scraped his finger on his teeth, flinching. His teeth were certainly much sharper than they had been before...The Spy lay there nursing the small wound, an inhuman ‘churrr’ escaping his throat.

What had become of him? He tried to recall the past few days in any kind of coherent manner.

He recalled the solider killing him, and Respawn must have picked him up for he was here now…he remembered a BLU doctor who was not their team’s Medic looking him over, and multiple other people in blu colors. He remembered feeling sick, hungry, achy. There was yelling, and talking. He tried hard but it was all a blur.

He also recalled killing people. A good number of people. The memory was a haze of movement and blood. It was part of his job description to kill people. He liked the rush and the danger, stalking and outwitting his mark, the satisfaction of that fatal backstab, and defending himself if his cover was blown. It was like a game sometimes, like hide and go seek; only you die.

He was always professional, cool, collected. But self defense and assignment was one thing. The fact he felt he’d been out of control, couldn’t remember exactly what he did the past day - that greatly disturbed him. That he had killed without deliberation, like some wild animal.

The Spy thought himself an intelligent person, secretive, well traveled, smart, attractive…and a skilled assassin.

But not a monster...

In recent years he was thinking about retiring from the ‘spy business’. He had wants of companionship. To think - a ‘lonely spy’. He could never have a steady lover as a spy; it’d be too dangerous for both of them. He had enough money saved he could have done it after his tour with BLU. Find someone, settle down, and get an apartment in the city. Enjoy cups of tea and coffee at corner café’s in Paris, eat expensive pastries, make love on silk bed sheets.

Why did this suddenly cross his mind?

…maybe because as he looked at himself…he realized he’d never have any of that now.

Dominique crawled back into that safe feeling pipe, tired and overwhelmed. He’d never felt depressed or lost like this, not even when he was captured by the enemy and interrogated, not even when he spent days sitting alone on stake out.

His tentacles pulled his clothes back to him; they made a passable pillow as he curled up into a silently weeping ball.

...

Picture Ref of Domi over at:
http://tf2chan.net/rpg/src/128934466881.jpg
http://tf2chan.net/rpg/src/128934474974.jpg


...


--Part 4--


The Spy huffed as he growled at his Cloak and Dagger and Disguise Kit.

Both had been damaged in the attack. He had not the mechanical ability to fix them, despite trying. The charge on the invisibility watch did not hold through movement, but it would still work with indefinite invisibility while stationary. His disguise kit fritzed randomly; the audio or visual would work but not in tandem, or it would flicker in sunlight. Sometimes it worked perfectly. It was very unreliable.

Being a man of espionage who survived without such tech for over a decade, Dominique figured he’d get by. Getting by, however, consisted of becoming accustomed to his new existence.

That first day, after he got over what he’d become and how he almost died by his own team’s hands…he started slowly exploring his new ‘home’. His idle exploration was also good means to get used to his changed body. Simple swimming seemed to come naturally, instincts no doubt. He skirted along the bottom, walking more so than swimming against the rocks and sticks littering the concrete canal floor. His tentacles poked into every nook and cranny, taking in the texture of the concrete walls, rocks littering the bottom, things he could stop to look at because his lungs weren’t burning with a held breath.

When he paused, or came up on a wall, his mantle flared to grasp, with suckers seeking purchase all on their own, grasping and wanting to explore everything they could reach. This made him somewhat distressed, because it made him feel like he was out of control of his body. He didn’t like that idea of being out of control of anything, especially his own actions. How could he sneak about with wandering limbs? Reasoning, the Spy compared himself to a child learning to walk. A baby couldn’t walk before they could crawl, surely this was no different?

What the Spy did not know, was that imbued into his DNA was indeed just that. The tentacled limbs of octopi arms have little minds of their own, with their own independent nervous systems. The brain delegates orders, while the arm is responsible for deciding exactly how to execute the order. Then the octopus, or in this case the distressed BLU Spy, can give a quick assignment to the arm and then not have to think about it anymore. A side effect of course, is that when not giving them orders, the limbs can tend to wander.

Investigating the canals around the shipping base was fascinating; it was a side of the bases he never got to see. The waterways were a lot more extensive than he imagined - with plenty of hollows to hide in. He liked dark; enclosed and hidden…at least a feeling inside him told him such.

He also had to explore himself.

He knew his anatomy had changed, but the exact technicalities of how he was still breathing and functioning as a living creature were unknown to him. He craned his neck, trying to get a full look at his naked body. All the damaged skin from when he was killed that last time was changed. Scraggly frills on his arms and back were under his control to perk or lower, like a fish. Despite it being impossible for anyone to be around at the bottom of the canal, he glanced about and made sure he had privacy before poking about his lower half.

He ‘lifted up his skirt’ wincing and feeling ill at first seeing all those large suckers on his tentacles where they trailed up towards his torso like spokes of an umbrella. Dominique panicked for a moment, now that he was (mostly) calm, rested, and fed, he could think of secondary things. Finding himself plenty flexible to curl around like looking between his legs, he felt over his lower anatomy. Where was his manhood? All he could figure out by sight was his ‘ass’ - or what was left of it. Merely a crux of those suckers, not in the same position or form as it was before. From what he recalled of animal anatomy, that is where a ‘beak’ would be on octopuses, as it was their mouth, like on starfish or sea urchins. It was funny how all that stuff he learned way back in school suddenly was very helpful.

The Spy slumped against the curve of the large water pipe he was laying in. Was he to suffer yet more indignity? He was quite honest with himself in that like most other men in their mid-prime he had sexual needs, from self gratification to rolling in the sheets with a partner...he couldn’t imagine living without it. Now what could he do? Would he ever feel the same again?

He writhed in frustration for some time, stewing over thoughts.

The Spy then flitted to the surface to distract himself, and considered now what he would do about LAND. He didn’t have legs any longer. Could he even GO on land anymore? He recalled vaguely when he escaped away from those guards; he was running on autopilot during the ordeal. RUNNING, yes he recalled traversing the land somehow...not swiftly, but still...

His frustration only grew as he discovered he not only looked quite aquatic - he WAS very aquatic. With the cool and safe blanket of night, he fumbled through trying to make his tentacles work in a manner for ‘walking’. As he did so, his chest began to feel dry if he breathed air longer than a few minutes - his breaths slowly became shallow and labored as if he had asthma. He quickly slipped back into the water. After a quick soak, he could breathe air just fine. It was to be assumed his lungs needed to be kept moist to work - that was the logical conclusion.

When he breathed underwater, he inhaled water like he would air, but it was exhaled out through the gill slits on his sides. He could feel the cold water passing through him, it was a very natural feeling motion, just like breathing always was, except a lot ‘thicker’. In fact, it was quite pleasant, pleasurable even.

He wished he could see how his inner anatomy had changed...though that made him think of the word ‘dissection’, so he refrained from thinking about it too hard at the moment.

Not to be caught suffocating, the crafty Spy had an idea. He stole a liquor flask from the RED Demoman the next chance he had, when his gibbed body was thrown into the canal. He was the worst Demoman he’d ever seen! Stepped on his own stickybombs. He didn’t NEED to be drinking any more than he was.

The tentaspy cleaned out the metal flask and kept it in his suit, filled with fresh water. He could now sneak about for longer periods of time, though his tentacles required moisture after not much longer than his lungs…they’d grow chapped and leathery like lips in the winter. But it was breathing that was most important. Looking like a drunkard with a habit, Dominique would periodically take inhaling sips from the flask as he snuck around at night. The flask gave him a lot of freedom from his ‘watery prison’, to think how such a simple thing could be so liberating.

Despite the uplift, the Spy was still incredibly frustrated.

It had been almost a fortnight since his new existence...and he was really itching now for relief from that kind of tingle only orgasm could provide. It wasn’t just your usual need, sure men got horny, but this felt raw and beyond him like many things that clawed at his mind now. It was this animalistic, alien heat inside him, and it didn’t help he had no idea how to satisfy it.

He hit a trigger one evening. As he explored behind RED base, he caught a wiff of something like a good meal being cooked; only there was no smell of food. It was the smell of arousal.

Not the odor, but the hormones, the very elements that made it inveigle your senses on a primal level. He peeked into the window there, cracked to the outside as it was a cool, mild evening. There inside was the RED team’s Medic and Heavy, quite intertwined and muffling their cries so as to not have teammates hear through the wall.

A twinge of humor rose in the Spy, thinking about how he’d backstabbed both of them in tandem multiple times, one after the other. Now he was seeing them in such a different light, not ruthless and intimidating on the field, but naked and sweaty, groaning in need.

Though that didn’t change the fact he was there invisible, watching...just...watching. Like some dirty voyeur. Only his expression on his invisibly cloaked face was one of longing and jealousy. HE wanted that...

When he couldn’t watch anymore he sank to the dew damp grass, tentacles coiling up to conserve moisture, but also in aroused confusion. Mon dieu, he could still SMELL them, like some fine perfume. It was intoxicating! He growled softly, a shaky hand removing his water flask from his scraggly pin stripe suit. Half of the water spilled down his face and chest as he tried to inhale a deep breath of it.

Dominique made it back to the canal edge closest to the barracks. He smoothly slid in and sunk to the bottom. The cool water washing through his system helped to douse the passion in his ‘groin’. Maybe...maybe being this ramped up he could achieve some kind of release. Maybe he could –

His train of thought scattered as a shot of pleasure ran through him. He writhed against the canal bottom, back arched to it. A hand instinctively felt downwards, discovering a firm but prehensile appendage – and it wasn’t one of his tentacles.

Seemed he wasn’t missing something after all.

It was incredible, and release him hard and fast as he quickly discovered how amazing it felt to wrap his soft suckers all along his erect length, pulsing and squeezing. He writhed in limp relief, a flurry of low churrrs and growls welling up in his throat.

“Ahhh...ahhhh...” He gasped, gills flaring wide.

If nothing else, at least this was one thing he had regained control of.

...
...
...

-- Part 5 --

But another thing he really wanted…was a new suit.

His pinstriped jacket was torn and bullet hole riddled. He did not like looking so...shabby. He was a spy, not a hobo. And he did not want to be nude all the time, it was highly unprofessional...but most of all...keeping some semblance of humanity was something he was trying to cling to with all his might.

His team replacement that came made for easy pickings. When he was comfortable enough with his ‘walking’ skills, he went for it. While the battle raged on outside during the day, the tentaspy slinked into the base, and snagged a fresh suit from the new BLU Spy’s closet with a curling tentacle.

Dominique took a look at the replacement Spy’s bed…

...that was his bed. Only a month ago, he would sleep there, dry and warm.

Dominique scowled, choking back emotion. He’d been getting a little more emotional then he ever recalled before - maybe it was hormone fluctuations, or the fact he was basically assumed dead and it didn’t matter anymore what outwards appearance he put on.

The pillow and blanket were snatched as well, they were HIS after all. BLU would replace them. The pack of cigs on the dresser was left behind. He had kicked the habit during his physical ordeal. During his attempts at walking he had tried lighting up like he would in the past, stress smoking to ease his nerves – but he got a stinging pain in his gills and such a coughing fit it discouraged all thoughts of smoking again. He reluctantly, and quickly, had to quit cold turkey. With his gills connected to his lungs, exhaling made some air go out through them too. The delicate frimbrae seized like pouring salt in a wound.

He would miss those swirling little smoke rings he used to blow, and the menthol flavor. But his lungs firmly said NO, so it was something else he had to give up.

...

Before heading back to the canal, the tentaspy swooshed into the kitchen like a low moving, tentacled panther. He used the spray wand from the sink to rewet his needy tentacles. He gave a happy, churrring groan of relief. He felt a webbed hand over them, slimy and smooth as they should be...

He was so occupied he almost did not hear the Engineer stumbling in from Respawn.

“Merde!”

Domi hissed to himself as he darted to the first out of the way place he could think of – the top of the fridge and cabinets. There was plenty of space between them and the ceiling to wedge himself. Being still, his faulty Cloak and Dagger worked to make him completely invisible.

It was Dexter…that was the Engineer’s name. He used to be his teammate.

He’d joke with him about sappers whenever they crossed paths in the showers. The man liked to pleasure himself while reading car magazines. He hated the smell of citrus, liked to play solitaire, always wore suntan lotion. These little things he liked to observe of people, when they didn’t know he was there.

If he knew he was alive, would he, or any of his team, still treat him like a teammate? Or would they shoot on sight, and finish the job BLU thought they accomplished?

“Well that’s a hell of thing….is the sink leakin’ again’?” The engineer finally noticed the wet floor. He had come in to grab a drink of water before heading back outside. He checked the sink pipes but all was in order. The Engineer shrugged, it wasn’t a huge deal. Domi sighed in relief as he left.

Better not risk it…he wasn’t in Respawn anymore.

...
...
...

--Part 6--

Months turned into years.

Soon three had passed.

The crews shuffled. Contracts were fulfilled, people left, were killed by faulty Respawn, and new people came over that time. Only a hanful of members were left that would recognize Dominique, if they saw him.

While he WAS good at hiding, there were times he was briefly seen. The results only backed up his fears. Rumors of a ‘tentacle monster in the canals’ became amusing bonfire tales for the teams. But no one really believed anything the drunk Demo, crazy Soldier, poor English speaking Heavy, or eccentric Medic said anyway.

The former spy kept up his love of observation. He’d become quite the voyeur, even more than he was before. It passed the time, kept him a part of things he had to leave behind. Now that he was ‘outside the system’ it was a whole new feeling. He’d hide in corners as long as his drying tentacles could stand. Thankfully, he could sip from his flask without making his faulty cloak flicker.

Dominique took notes on stolen journal paper, and would read them in a hidden, dry alcove deep in the drainage pipes. It was decorated with bits of things he’d take from the bases...anything to feel more human (Anything to remind himself he was human, to not let himself slip into an instinct driven routine).

He only used the alcove to spend time and store things; sleeping was done underwater, always.

From his pillow kept dry inside in a sealed plastic bag, rounds for his revolver, to little things like magazines and empty pop bottles. He’d stack damp cards till they fell over, then play solitaire with them. He’d try to make up new tricks flipping his balisong blade, draw into the concrete moss covered floor with his claws – all while slumped on his stomach with his tentacles draped into the water.

He tried to avoid spinning his revolver barrel idly; he might become tempted to use it.

...

The altered Spy didn’t notice at first how much he ate, but it was actually quite a lot...it was like his metabolism was high, or that he needed more energy to keep running all those tentacles. He knew his blood was slightly bluish, being a deep reddish-purple, what he didn’t know precisely, was he was half blue blooded because of having elements of the copper-bonded blood octopuses have. Octopus blood is a poor carrier of oxygen, which helps explain the animal's sometimes apparent laziness. But Dominique was a fairly active, half mammal. To cope, he merely took in more, so he’d have the energy to pump that blood at the high blood pressure level he needed, as he lacked the three hearts that octopus as the animal possesses to keep up THEIR blood pressure.

Dominique grew disenchanted with fish out of boredom, and he could only steal so much food before people took notice. He tried catching game outside the bases during the cool nights, or when it rained, venturing past the fence where the trains would come in. The trains were starting to come less frequently. Jackrabbits and wild foul made for interesting prey, and quite tasty ones at that.

That was indeed a nice distraction...though one day he tried something else as his taste buds and energy-needy body grew hungry for variety. The first time he plucked a body from the waters where it’d been blown he was disgusted at himself for feeling the urge to eat it, but found the taste…pleasant. He took to killing members he didn’t like, picking off RED’s and BLU’s alike, this lasted for only a few days, and the Spy was sure to kill swiftly and cleanly before he was really seen...

…he went back to fish and jackrabbits soon after.

If he let himself slip too far; he feared he really would become that monster everyone thought he was.

...

The fifth year crept by.

Dominique had somehow avoided being discovered by the BLU scientists who wanted him as a science experiment. And, as of lately, they seemed to not be around much behind the scenes. It was like they were letting the mercenaries have more freedom in their spare time. Or they got the equipment working to their satisfaction, because Respawn was not frying as many people as it used to. It was a rare occurrence compared to when the Spy first came.

Or perhaps they just didn’t care.

Either way, the trains kept coming with supplies, and Dominique would watch them like a perched, invisible vulture up in the station rafters.

He would ride one out if he could, but there is no way he’d survive to civilization, or anywhere with water. There was nothing but half-deserted farmland and grassland as far as the eye could see. The closest river he could see was too far to walk to unless it was raining, if his tentacles could even carry him that far on the rough ground. He tired quickly supporting his weight on land if going more than a short distance.

...

It did not rain much, but Dominique loved it when it did.

Then he could stay out as long as he wanted. It let him wander outside the fences even longer to catch guinea foul and rabbits. The tentaspy had a venom he could inject into his prey, he had found this out in his first year, and now was a master of it. It was far more desirable than squeezing his prey to death in his tentacles, for the mouth feel of the muscles staying intact.

He found it amazing how he could eat all this raw food without getting sick; he had no doubt his body chemistry had changed for that. It reminded him of sushi, that clean, mild taste of fresh meat. It was wonderful how delicious plain, raw meat could taste...

A quick bite of his fangs, and jackrabbit stopped struggling within seconds. It was easy work for his claws and sharp teeth to skin and cut up the creature. He sometimes used his balisong to get a more precise cut, or just to feel more refined, feel more human even though no one was watching.

Picking flesh off the jackrabbit’s leg like it was a buffalo wing, Dominique lazed his tentacles over the nest he’d made in a high corner of the BLU base, which resembled a factory on the outside. A large, broken pipe made for a lovely high perch to watch people. He’d dragged fabric and grasses up there over the years, and with some jugs of water he could stay up there for hours even when it was not raining, as the padded scoop held water like a wading puddle.

With the bases rainy and the factory buildings lit up for the evening, it was actually rather beautiful.

It reminded him of Paris...be it a run down, industrial, rusty Paris (with a healthy dose of imagination). With all the little runner lights through the fog of the rain, he tried to picture the factory tower by RED Base as the Eiffel tower....maybe if he squinted. The lit building and warehouse windows were like the city lights.

Trying to toss the rabbit bones into a rusty bucket on the next catwalk down, Dominique sighed and stared again at that distant river like he had many times before. He thought while idly flicking his balisong open and closed in a twirling motion.

CLICK, chink...CLICK, chink....Click click CHINK....

Maybe he really should try to make it to the ocean...maybe he could get to the Mediterranean, or the coast outside Europe. “That’s where you could go, back where you came from, yes?” He thought, “But that is very far...would you make it out there?”

He’d traveled the world; he was not in need of sightseeing. It’d be no different than where he was right now.

He’d still be just as limited by his aquatic nature and faulty disguise kit, and he’d still be an invisible tentaspy spying on people. He couldn’t sit in his favorite corner café, he couldn’t woo anyone, and he couldn’t enjoy a glass of wine on a hotel balcony. Besides, would Paris be...if he was alone?

...
...
...

--Part 7--

Then one day, the current RED Engineer accidentally walked in front of his own sentry as it was firing at a BLU. Respawn fried him.

A new RED engineer came.

Dominique observed him as he did every new team member, starting a ‘file’ on the individual.

The Engineer’s name was Lance; He was American, and southern – this one was from Austin Texas specifically. Short, 5’ 4”, stocky build, velvet fuzzed head with dirty blond hair. Because of the heat during the day, he didn’t always wear the team colored RED shirt, so you could see his light scruff of chest and armpit fuzz poked out from under his not-so-formfitting reddish brown overalls.

This engineer was a little bit aloof, not unfriendly, just...he seemed to avoid the larger classes and keep to his workshop when the day’s fighting was over, though he also spotted the man getting to know his teammates over a few bottles of beer to grease the social gears. Very laid back but not cocky, though he seemed to like to joke he was ‘the better man’ when ever he got the best of a BLU.

Of course he was a genius of machinery. Though, this engineer seemed more artist than mechanic when compared to other engineers…he spent long hours drawing detailed blueprints, and crafting a design that was sleek and beautiful, not just functional. A form to follow function, and a function to the atheistic beauty of the form. For a man like the Spy, who was accustomed to the art of the Louvre and the romantic nature of his homeland, it stirred interest and a sense of sophistication he admired.

The Tentaspy continued his observations into another week. To his amusement many of the fancy designs of the Engineer did not work; or would be too weak overall to withstand heavy combat (he used bulkier designs during the day’s fighting, a lot of the special designs were done on the side, though his sleeker designs often built quicker). The man was entertaining in his artistic frustration, but the Engineer kept at it.

The notes went down in Dominique’s journal files. Everyone had secrets, and he wanted them all. New team members held his attention for a while, distracted him from his boredom and loneliness. Then it’d be back to the same routine...

But there was something about the new Engineer’s eager creativity that kept the tentaspy’s attention. Dominique found himself watching the man a little more closely than usual.

...
...
...
>> No. 2296
tl:dr

But, I did read Part 1 and I'm adopting such respawn failures into my head canon. Merci.
>> No. 2297
Just a heads up for anyone reading this story: I joined Y Gallery specifically to find the rest of it, and a later chapter contains some of the hottest tentacle-related sex I've read in a long time.

Yes, it's long, but it's worth reading - trust me on that.

Gotta say though - Lithe, you don't need to include the background on what Domi is right now, like how he's half mammal or whatever. It breaks the flow a little, like a section of science text dropped in for no reason.

The rest is good. I'll be watching this one.
>> No. 2298
Actually I like the sciency stuff. (Not really into porn but adult fanfics have a lot of good drama or humor in them.) Your tentaspy is pretty interesting.
>> No. 2300
I've always liked this story, and I can't wait for my favourite scene to come up (lol the porn), and see how it's changed, if at all.
>> No. 2302
Loving it so far.

If you don't mind me asking, where's the y-gallery link?
>> No. 2304
ahh loving this.

Though i actually prefer the original reason behind why he became a tentaspy.

I can't wait to read more
>> No. 2305
Can't wait for the next installment!
>> No. 2307
>>6

Just go to Y Gallery, search for tentaspy domi or something, and you'll find it. You'll need to sign up but that takes no time at all.
>> No. 2308
I will admit, I am no fan of tentaspy. It just seems rather pointless to me.

But I read the entire thing posted here, and I'm hooked. I'd like to see where this goes. The romance seems a bit cheezy though, but eh, if there really is hot porn at the end, it might be worth it...
>> No. 2309
Enjoying the rewrite so far; they seem more like Classes-With-Names rather than completely original characters and that is what I like in my TF2 fics (feels less mary sue-ish). The main problems with this fic came in later chapters with the characters acting like smitten 14-year-old girls rather than middle-aged, battle-hardened men, so I'm interested to see if the rewrite takes that into consideration.
>> No. 2311
> 3 I'm a nerd for science techobabble and all that so expect to see it in any of my fics, but yea it might have broken the flow for sure where it was, I agree.
> 2 Ffftt your welcome. Enjoy, heh heh!
> "Plot that happens to have porn", that's what I'm going for here. It's in Afanfic with a reason! :)
> 11 Oh yes, that is where I am mostly doing the changing. Domi IS still a slightly insecure and super lonely/horny tentaspy, and Lance IS still a closet gay Engineer, but his team mates won't be as accepting, if he tells them at all, and neither will be doing any '14 year old girls' as it were. That was the MAIN reason for the rewrite.
>> No. 2312
12 Excellent. Well then continue.
>> No. 2315
I actually really like the sprinkling of science in this fic. I'm a hard science fiction kind of gal, and having some facts to back it up make a story even more plausible to me. A bit of science in my porn makes me happier than a kid who's just heard the ice cream truck jingle (which in the neighborhood in which I grew up happened far too seldom). Please, do continue.
>> No. 2316
The science is a teeny bit distracting the the flow, but I'm torn because I freakin' love sci-fi.

Honestly, though, I'm looking forward to the increased-manliness in the upcoming chapters; I love it when you write man-monsters just sort of clicking over into primal mode (while the partner is just going "dude? um, dude?" with the awful realization that their sweetheart is gone and if they didn't want three-foot tentacock, too goddamn bad), but yeah, it was a little too cutsey last time.

It's impossible to make everyone happy, but I for one really appreciate you taking the criticism so well and giving this a rewrite.
>> No. 2317
I have a terrible memory, so I'm enjoying this story as if for the first time. I'm quite liking it, and I get unduly, Medic-style curious about a TentaSpy's insides, so... yeah, rock on.
>> No. 2322
I've been looking forward to the rewrite on this, glad to see it's here.
>> No. 2344
I really like it so far, never read it the first time around but it seems to be going in an excellent direction. Can't wait for the next update!
>> No. 2464
This post has been deleted.
>> No. 2465
Eeeexcellent. Been waiting for this.

I like the changes to the story.
>> No. 2501
*stalking quietly*
>> No. 2579
Oooh, very interesting remake on the disguise kit repairs.
>> No. 2629
No words...
I'm happy to see this again.
>> No. 2648
*Old one of this post deleted, then reposted cause of some small changes – new post follows this one*

Thanks for the crit and kind words all! I love feedback of all kinds. Here is the next 2 parts, already you can see the new direction, despite the overall similar plot line.

...

--Part 8--

Weeks later, Dominique sat coiled in a damp corner watching the RED Engineers work one evening.

To Dominique’s fortune the ‘artistic’ Engineer liked to smelt metals at RED’s outside furnace, heating them up to hand pound and shape. It was not far from the canal, and near some drainage pipes and shrubs. It was so close because to quick-cool the pieces the canal made an easy dipping pot. To the tentaspy it was merely extremely convenient for HIM.

The dirty blond engineer didn’t know what it was, but sometimes he swore he was being watched since arriving at the RED base.

“Hey pardner, do...those spahs ever...well spah on their own teammates?” Lance asked of a fellow engineer, who had come by to shape some metal as well.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” The older man replied, glancing up only briefly from his work.

Domi furrowed his brow, tentacles curling. Not like they could reach him where he was....but he never liked it when his mark got the ‘hebbie jeebies’.

CLANG, CLINK, CLANG

The tentaspy watched the laborers do what they did best. The shirtless Engineer held his piece of metal up to a schematic blueprint, making sure it was sized and shaped properly. It seemed to be plans for a dispenser, but this one had a sleeker look than the usual.

The current RED team actually had 3 engineers; it was easy to tell them apart as Lance was typically hatless, while the other two liked to wear Stetsons, one in black, the other in white. The one in white had come about 2 weeks after Lance, most likely an over-hire misfile when their second Engineer was killed, as the team didn’t really need three engineers. His name was Roscoe, the youngest of the three engies at about 35 years old, perhaps 4 years younger than Lance.

The oldest, the one Lance was speaking to at that moment by the furnace, was there long before them, a veteran of the RED team and no doubt due for a transfer soon. His name was William, he was known for being fairly serious, though a few beers always loosened him up.

“Well, it sure is nice having unlimited materials, but the selection is a bit restricted,” Lance muttered to himself as he fixed a curled piece of RED metal to another for an outside panel of his dispenser.

“We’re given what is required to build what we need for the team,” William replied.

“I wonder how that BLU metal welds...” Lance kept talking to himself.

Dominique chuckled softly as he idly played with his water flask, turning it over in his webbed hands. What did the laborer mean by that? How would BLU’s metal be any different building dispensers and sentries?

When he was dried enough for it to be uncomfortable, the tentaspy snuck around in the shadows behind the engineers, his faulty cloak flickering, but the noise of them banging metal made them plenty distracted not to notice. He slipped into the canal silently, last of his tentacles disappearing like thick noodles sliding into soup.

Looking up, he saw and heard the hiss of hot metal hitting the water’s surface, as one of the engineers quick cooled a piece of metal.

He was still thinking about the engineer’s muttering as he hunted for dinner. To his observations - BLU was more industrial than RED, with BLU base being all concrete and metal, while RED being ‘homely’ with wood and brick on the outside. Maybe BLU did manufacture a very different kind of metal, though he swore BLU’s sentries looked the same as RED’s.

The ‘puzzle’ gnawed at him a bit for a day or two, and while listening to the battle rage on topside muffled through the water, he considered making use of that scrap metal left behind from the day’s territorial war.

After the end of day bell rang, when the BLU Engineer wasn’t looking, the tentaspy crept up behind him and snagged some of his sentry’s remains in his tentacles. With the metal securely in his suckers, Dominique swam through the tunnels and brought his gatherings to the RED side of the field, hiding them in a corner so he could think.

Now there was no way he could just HAND them over...and leaving some BLU metal there like a present with no wherewithal would be more than suspicious, so he had to make this look orderly. He had to make this look credulous. He had to be sneaky and cunning about this – he had to be...a Spy.

A pleased grin curled across his face – it was like he had a mission again...be it this was silly and self-imposed – but still. It was something with purpose.

In his scheming, Dominique formulated a plan. He had noticed the new RED Engineer seemed friendly with their team’s Heavy. Not amazingly buddy buddy, but enough that, combined with that the Heavy was often on the BLU side of the field being offensive with their Medic, and was strong enough to carry it, made it believable that he could/would gather sentry metal scrap to bring back. This, and the Russian was also friends with William, as both had been on the team together for some time. It could be assumed he might have told the Russian about what Lance said in off hand conversation, especially over a beer.

Forging handwriting styles was actually one of his forte’s. Dominique gave a pleased chuckle as he had not lost his touch, and he produced a believable note from the Heavy to Lance as he sat there on top of the scrap in a shadowed corner by the canal, tentacles curling about it like a kraken protecting treasure. He’d take this and leave it on the pile of scrap outside the RED Engineer’s workshop and –

But then as he thought about it more, he realized, he needed to have some security that Lance would not mention it to William or the REAL Heavy...and leaving a discreet note did not seem like the Russian’s style. He’d want to hand it over personally to get praises from his team mate...he was a big man and never subtle.

Dominique crumpled up the note and coiled his tentacles more around the pile of waiting scrap. For the Russian to hand it over...to hand it over in person....

For his plan to work, he’d need a working disguise kit.

Because of the fear of being put out into a vulnerable situation and being captured if discovered, Dominique never bothered to attempt it in the past 5 years. But now...with every member on each team who had known him while he worked for BLU dead or transferred, no one was left that would recognize him in the least. Also, the teams seemed to be working quite autonomously of their companies, with no BLU or RED behind the scenes workers living there like they were when the Spy was working for BLU. The respawn systems were stabilized – everything was working with (relative) smoothness with no need for a ‘babysitter’.

So now was the perfect time for the altered Spy to take some risks - and he finally had motivation to do so. Once that idea got into his head of SPEAKING to people again, disguising and impersonating members like old times, he couldn’t get it out of his mind.

Disguise kit in webbed hand, Dominique used those note forging skills again, to impersonate the RED Spy...

...
...
...

--Part 9--

Lance came into the workshop after the day’s battle and clicked on the bulb to his workbench. He put down his wrench and hesitated to put down his toolbox as he noticed something on his desk.

It was a disguise kit – the kind the team Spy would use during battle to impersonate others. He recognized it right away – but god damn, it was in bad shape. He picked it up and noticed a note sticking out of it. Lance could practically hear the RED Spy’s snarky accent in his head as he read it,

Dear Laborer,

My disguise kit has become a bit waterlogged using the canals to infiltrate BLU, and is malfunctioning. You seem to have an eye for small details – fix this before tomorrow’s battle, would you? Slide it under my door for me when you are done.

Merci,

Spy

“Merci indeed,” The engineer grumbled to himself, “Couldn’t even come in person, lazy, anti-social spah just leaving stuff lying ‘round.” He sighed. But after the initial annoyance, the Engineer got to taking apart the damaged kit...and was soon engrossed and intrigued by the delicate technology that made it tick.

He’d never taken apart one of the Spy kits before, though he’d seen their Spy in action using it on the field. It was fascinating! It was a lot like a watch in the intricacy of its mechanics, a lot crammed into the small space of the cigarette case like device. He was curious now to get a hold of one of the cloaking watches too....he wondered what THOSE looked like if this was so interesting!

‘Damn this thing really IS water damaged...’ Lance mused as he blew away solder smoke before it clogged up his nostrils, ‘he must use the drainage and canal systems to get to BLU all the time.’

The engineer re-soldered all the connections on its circuit board, re-adjusted its kinetic powered quartz charging system, and installed new seals so water could not get in again. He was very intricate in small details, almost more artist than mechanic at that moment – fixing the small, complicated tech of the disguise kit was no problem for him. It looked almost good as new when he was done with it. A job well done, Lance fell asleep at his desk as it was far beyond when he normally stayed up, the repaired kit under him.

Keeping tabs on his gear...was the real owner.

Dominique had been coming in periodically (to and fro from the canals through the cover of night), peeking in the back window, slinking up to the rafters, faulty cloak flickering, but the engineer was deep in work with his back to him, there was little risk of being seen. The tentaspy panicked a little when he saw the engineer asleep. “No no no he must slide it under his door while he is asleep! If he does so in the morning the RED Spy might be awake and see it, and I won’t be able to snag it!” Domi thought.

He looked around for something he could pick up and throw to make noise to wake him. But just as he was about to do so, the door creaked open.

It was Roscoe, the youngest and newest engineer - coming in with some things to put at his work bench. It was obvious he had been working outside, hence why Lance had been alone all evening in the shop.

He noticed his fellow engineer asleep at his workbench. “Lance?” He piped up lowly, coming over to shake his shoulder.

“NNggg?” The hatless engineer lifted his head as he woke up from a deep sleep.
“Heh, this is no place to snooze pardner, gunna git a stiff neck like that, ya hear?” He chuckled.
“I...ahh yea...” Lance yawned, not fully awake.
“Workin’ hard on something?” Roscoe questioned.
“Jes fixin’ the Spah’s disguise kit,” He hopped to his feet, and stretched his stout little body, the kit in hand.
“Keepin us busy, are they? The variety is nice at least,” Roscoe picked up his wrench; he liked to keep that with him in his living quarters.
“Yea,” The older man replied as they both left the shop, turning of the lights. Suddenly he remembered that the Spy needed this before morning. “I’m gonna git to mah real bed,” He gave a small wave and a smile to his comrade, who gave a quick ‘goodnight’ in return as he disappeared into his room. The older Engineer made a beeline for the Spy’s room.

Soon as Domi saw them leave the shop, and the direction Lance went, he made for the same place on the outside of the building.

The kit just made it under the crack at the bottom of the door. “Better not STEP on it when he gits up,” Lance muttered to himself, chuckling with another yawn, heading right for bed.

On the other side of the door...the window was opening silently...the RED Spy sleeping in his bed just under the window frame, making only small sounds of snoring. His blankets were akimbo, showing he had fallen asleep on his back, in his slightly dirty button up and vest, his tie loosened and not straight.

Dominique pressed himself in halfway, avoiding being directly over the Spy. His tentacles would reach all the way to kit by the door...if he could just balance himself to make the stretch, and concentrate enough so as one wouldn’t wander to poke at the sleeping Spy.

He furrowed his brow, balaclava scrunching. He gripped onto the wall with suckers, and to the window frame with his claws. An outstretched tentacle snaked down, the tiniest of sucker tips catching on the disguise kit’s casing. It was reeled in, the gripped more securely by a coil of tentacle as it was in reach.

In his quiet flexibility maneuver, he had just slightly leaned into the RED Spy’s space, and a drip of water trailed off his pinstriped suit fell right onto the unmasked man’s cheek.

The tentaspy froze as the other man stirred, blue eyes snapping open.

He was muttering something in French as he felt over the wet spot on his slightly stubbly cheek. He must have not been fully awake, as while his eyes opened he didn’t seem to really take in anything going on. Dominique WAS cloaked, but in that he was in a strained position, his faulty cloak was flickering as a slight confusion of shape.

The RED Spy’s eyes closed, and he rolled to his side, sleep crashing over him again.

Dominique breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close call.

Though while he was mentally celebrating and concentrating on taking his disguise kit out of his tentacle’s grasp, an un-managed tentacle was casually snaking down the RED Spy’s shirt.

That DID wake the man.

“AAaagGnnnn!” The RED Spy flailed, the unknown feeling making him startle reflexively like someone feeling a crawling down their neck and thinking it’s a spider in their shirt. The suckers latched onto him the harder he pulled to get it out. They had a hold on something interesting, they wanted more of it. Dominique hissed, falling off balance as he was suddenly yanked on, and completely caught off guard by the feeling of being grasped, and making physical contact with someone else in general.

What was at first a reflex action, soon became a real moment of fear and confusion as the RED Spy saw the flicking mass of shape around him. He recognized that cloak flicker, but he did NOT understand the shapes he was seeing. Like a cat, he reached for his balisong on the nightstand, only to find his wrist grabbed by a striking, firm appendage. However, he only NEEDED one hand to open the knife. With a fast flick he whirled the blade open, and flailed his arm to stab anything he could hit.

An inhuman snarl rang out as the RED Spy stabbed into something soft. The shock of pain made Domi’s unruly suckers detach, and recoil from the Spy’s clothes. He fell out backwards from the window, falling to the dusty ground with a THUD.

The RED Spy jumped to his feet, glancing around the room frantically and brandishing his knife, clothes and hair even more askew then they were before. He looked almost comical, especially with his plain red briefs the only thing adorning his lower half. The Frenchman cautiously looked out the open window, and saw nothing there. It was eerily quiet, not a sound of foot steps or struggling.

He KNEW he hit something...he put a finger to the windowsill...seeing wetness there in the moonlight. A mixture of slime-like substance and water...and on his balisong was a dark, blue-purple colored blood. What WAS that thing that attacked him?

...

Dominique had quickly broke for the canal. Soon as he was out of earshot he stopped holding his breath and wheezed against the tightness and pain in his chest. His side was bleeding profusely. The RED Spy had stabbed him right in the gills. He could taste iron and copper in his throat as he dangled half of himself into the water. He wasn’t sure if it was better to rest his gills and sit out there breathing blood-gurgled air, or go in the water and breathe smoothly, but with one damaged gill.

He groaned and grit his teeth, holding his side as the pain was making it hard to think straight. His gills were a sensitive organ, richly supplied with blood, and always mucous membrane-like damp like your lips or eyes. He took off his damaged suit and shirt, so he could directly apply pressure to the wound. Dominique knew he could heal fast; having survived being shot up by the BLU guards proved that...but it didn’t make it hurt any less. And fast wasn’t fast enough as he sat there sputtering. He decided the cold of the water would help more, so he slipped in fully, sinking to the bottom.

It was like breathing with asthma for a while as his blood clotted and his damaged gill pumped irregularly. The cool water did soothe the pain though, and he sighed with relief through stammered breaths. Dominique slumped over, able to relax as the bleeding stopped, but he was light headed from the loss of blood. His tentacles coiled with slowly decreasing agitation.

While he had been partially seen, he had succeeded – he had a working disguise kit. If he was lucky the RED Spy would keep his anti-social mouth shut, or if he told anyone, they’d just laugh and say he had dreamed it in a drunken hangover.

Dominque used his removed clothing as a pillow for his head, curling into a safe feeling pipe opening to rest and heal for the night.

...
...
...

NOTE: Roscoe is used with permission from DigitalDuckie - even though it's basically just his name/framework I'm using. But still, it’s an homage to him.
>> No. 2649
--Part 10—

While his injured gill was still achy and sore, Dominique felt well enough to drag himself out onto dry land to test his repaired gear. The excitement alone was enough to over take the minor discomfort.

It was like Christmas morning.

In a deserted area of the shipping train yard, just beyond the fence and gates, the tentaspy took out the disguise kit; it looked almost good as new. His claws slid over the casing, feeling the tight seals and admiring its restoration. The detailed engineer did quite a good job with it, as expected. While the favor had not been done ‘for him’, he still felt grateful to the engineer.

He snapped it open and chose a disguise from the interface, the most obvious choice for a test run.

An encompassing puff of smoke briefly shimmered over the tentaspy, and shortly to an observer he would have looked just like any normal Spy. No webbed hands, no sharp teeth, normal skin sheen, and most importantly - legs.

Standing up on his tentacles high as he could, around his original height, he turned and looked at himself in a shiny metal piece of sheeting like it was a mirror. He had to keep his appendages curled in towards and around himself, to stay within the cloak. He felt over the pinstriped pants, his ass, the curve of his thighs, craning to look and see his backside in the mirror. He could even ‘walk’; the illusion complete.

It was quite a thrill...to see himself with legs. He’d not seen such a thing in half a decade. It was both wonderful and bittersweet. In fleeting fantasy, it was like everything as it used to be, as it should be. But harsh reality told him it was nothing but smoke and mirrors. As comfortable and habitual he’d become with his new self...and the many wonders of his underwater world, the back of his mind never stopped missing being human. If he had the choice, he’d give anything to be the way he was.

Dominique sat down on a crate, stretching his ‘legs’ as he poked though his disguise kit’s memory banks to make sure everything was still there and worked properly. The data patterns for long since dead or gone team members still existed, like ghosts of the past. He glanced over the data for Boleslav, the current RED Heavy. He would be next...but the tentaspy had to wait until evening...

...

Meanwhile in RED Base at breakfast, the RED Spy was not looking as cocky as usual.

In a typical morning, he just sauntered in, lighting a cigarette as he grabbed some toast and eggs, and strode right out. But today, the man looked poorly rested and suspicious, glancing about like he expected something to jump out and surprise him.

“Didn’t get enough beauty rest, Sheila?” The Sniper snickered under his breath as he was getting rations for himself, just barely glancing up. He too would only be seen briefly before he disappeared back to his nest for the day’s fighting.

The Spy was already displeased, and quickly drew his balisong and brandished it at the Australian, “If you are going to insult me, do eet to my FACE, or my knife will ‘ave something to say to your BACK.”

Lance stopped mid bite of his bacon and eggs on toast, eyes widening behind his goggles at the sudden tenseness between the Spy and Sniper. Sure spies and snipers didn’t mix, and the men could get rough sometimes, but he’d never seen team mates threaten each other like that, and never when he was so physically close to the argument.

“Woah woah bloody hell, calm yer arse down Frog!” The Sniper threw his hands up to go with an accompanying gesture of ‘get that the hell away from me.’

“Tch, niais...” The Spy flicked his blade closed, and adjusted his suit, muttering under his breath. He put some jam on toast and sat at the table to eat, all eyes starring at him. He NEVER sat at the table. The cluster of three engineers was like a black-eyed staring beehive, intrigued. The large Russian sat between them and the Frenchman, like some human iron curtain, making the Engineers feel a little safer from the half-deranged-looking Spy.

“You look a mighty’bit spooked there pardner’,” Roscoe piped up, a bit naively as he was newer and did not know the Spy’s habits as well.
“Spook the spook,” The Sniper chucked brazenly, making his leave for his nest with a final scowl at the Spy.
“Da, Something has happened?” Boleslav chimed in, looking both tactically suspicious and mildly concerned.

Lance wondered this as well...his team mates basically asking his questions for him as he sat evaluating the situation before opening his mouth. What happened to the Spy? He saw or heard nothing when he dropped off his kit, maybe he just drank too much and didn’t sleep good. The Engineer was also thinking how it’d be polite to get some kind of thanks or recognition for his work he did, without prompting. Even if it was in his “job description” to fix things, manners were always obliged with personal favors. Also to make some friends outside his enclave of Engineer’s would be nice, having allies was always a good thing, especially amongst a crew of questionable mercenaries.

The RED Spy wanted to mention what happened, but how crazy would he sound, to mention of a ‘monster’ attacking him in bed? He DID go to sleep a bit tipsy last night, hit the cheap wine bottle a little harder than usual (that crap they sent on supply trains could BARELY be called wine...). But he could not have dreamed it, that blood on his knife was real...those marks on his chest were real.

Lance was going to ask about the disguise kit, when the Spy gave a point to all of them, “Something is up around ‘ere,” He narrowed his eyes, “Keep watch on yourselves at night.” After the cryptic warning, he left.

“What was that all about?” William whispered huskily, looking to the side with a ‘what in tarnation’ expression.
“I don’t know,” Lance narrowed his eyes in thought; “I was up late last night fixin’ his disguise kit and some thanks I get,” he sighed in a grumble.
“Oh yea?”
“And when I slid it under his door to return it I didn’t see or hear nothin’ unusual.”
“He was jes drunk and is hung over,” The older Engineer replied, “Ignore him, backstabbers are all th’ same.”

...

The hot day dragged a bit for the men, but for no one more than Dominique.

He hunted crayfish in the thin layer of rocks and sticks on the bottom of the Well canals, listening to the booms of rockets exploding overhead. He just wanted the day over, then he could enact his plan. ‘Patience...’ he smirked to himself, picking the claws off a crayfish and nibbling them like hard shelled pretzel nuggets.

If only he had been there as the RED team ate breakfast – his cover was almost blown, if Lance had asked about the disguise kit, suspicions might have been raised all through the base before he infiltrated it.

Evening came - the scrap was hidden in the respawn room, and Dominique waited inside for when the one Engineer would be walking by. The showers were close to the workshop in relation to their position along the hallway, and were also connected to the respawn room. It would make for a convenient waiting spot. Cloaked in a dim corner of the showers, he waited for the smells and sounds of the Texans walking by. The dampness allowed him to stay inside and lurk; but especially with his injured gill he was feeling weaker than usual, he couldn’t handle much drying out.

He was a still and patient hunter, only today his prey was not for eating.

Dominique found himself apprehensive, and more excited by the anticipation of his ‘scheme’ then he first thought. He stayed out of the affairs of the teams for his own safety...but now, finally he was bored and bold enough to take some risks, and had a drive to do so as well. The former BLU spy wanted so badly to be a part of things again, do ANYTHING that mattered or created change. Besides, he owed the little engineer now...this was only fair, yes? His tentacles curled with expectancy...

After waiting a bit, the RED Medic suddenly came in to shower.

Being the day ended some time ago and all who cared to bathe had done so and gone to dinner, Domi hissed softly at the unexpected intrusion. What he didn’t know was the Medic had been tending to some bullets lodged in a Scout’s torso, and was held up in the infirmary.

He silently watched the German do his ablutions. He was always quite fastidious, understandably. The tentaspy had done this before...watched the men in the showers. He’d almost become grabby multiple times, but always held back. Their exposed flesh wet and slick with soap...body hair matted down with the flow of the water. This medic had a good bit of chest hair...dark with flecks of gray like the hair on his head...

It was then he smelled the scent of his mark, coming up the hallway.

‘Merde,’ he hissed to himself. He kept an eye on the German, waiting for him to turn his back...

“Mmm?” The doctor turned his head, hearing a noise in the locker room. He peeked around the corner, curious as he heard no one else there before.

“Boleslav! I didn’t even hear you come in,” He chuckled, seeing the large Russian there, nearly bumping into him as he rounded the corner. The Heavy inched back, he was fully clothed, and holding a pile of scrap metal. Dominique didn’t want the medic to touch him and feel through his disguise.

“Da! Doktor, I didn’t know you were in showers either,” The ‘Russian’ chuckled, smiling. The Spy knew all the long time team mates well from his voyeuristic activities... the Medic and Heavy were close...he could play this part.

The Medic tried to advance, a sudden dark lust in his eyes and a grin on his lips, “You vhere vhroking hard today too, vhy not join me?”

“Nyet, I can not, I don’t want to get this metal wet, it will rust!” He deeply laughed, smiling back, “Eet is for Engineer, so he can build bigger guns to crush leetle baby BLU team.”

“How wunderful! You picked zhat up from the BLU side, ja?” He gave a look over the metal, being very unabashed of his nudity which was right up in Dominique’s face. He tried not to glance about too much, tentacles coiling on themselves in knots. He could SMELL the hormones as they wafted off the German, that masculine sex drive welling up in him the second he started conversing with what he thought was his bed partner.

“Da, and I saw him coming up hallway, so I wanted to get it to him tonight.” He hefted up the pile of metal, which in reality was being half supported by some tentacles, which were stronger than his own arms, “Come see me when you are done?”

The tentaspy was beginning to curse himself for not ‘warming up’ with some simple espionage and interactions before jumping right into the RED base. He was proud he was holding it together this coolly, his training was so deeply engrained...but at the same time, it was making his heart beat so fast to be interacting with people again, and the first one just HAD to be the Medic cooing over his Russian lover. The hormones were intense, he knew how he was sensitive to them...and despite knowing it was still surprising him.

“Alright alright, I see you are eager,” The German shooed him, “But have no doubt, I’ll be seeing you soon.” His wide, toothy grin was both mischievously playful as it was fearsome.

Dominique knew what the Heavy would do; he’d want to give a goodbye kiss...especially to rush out on the doctor. He kept his cool, gave a kiss to the man’s forehead, and then quickly made his leave. The Medic was none the wiser, though he did feel the kiss was wetter than usual...

Thankfully Lance had taken his time, and was just going into the workshop when ‘The Heavy’ ran up.

“Engineer!” The Russian bellowed, stopping up a little too close for comfort to the Texan.

“Woah there big fella!” Lance backed up, “What’s the hurry?” He eyed that pile of metal in the man’s grasp, smoothing over his velvet short hair with a hand. He wouldn’t wonder for long -

“These for you,” The Heavy thrust the pile at him. The Engineer was taken a little off guard and nearly fell over from the sudden weight, but he adjusted and soon was grasping it, in a similar fashion he’d hold his toolbox-housed builds.

“Fer me?” He looked a little shocked, but soon he was grinning, “Hey, this is BLU Metal! How’d you get this?”

“Leetle birdie told me you need stronger metal to make weapons to kill BLU’s. So I take from battlefield where I crush BLU Engineer’s sentry.” He shrugged, looking casual. Behind the cloak, the tentaspy knotted his tentacles on each other, the urge to reach out and touch was stronger than he anticipated...and the encounter with the Medic did NOT help.

“This is mighty fine! I can’t believe you did that...” Lance smirked thinking ‘William you devil...’, “Thank ye kindly! I think I’ll be able to make GREAT guns with this for mah designs!”

“Don’t tell other Engineer, will think I told on him. No need for anymore thanks, just make good weapons to get baby BLU team.” The Heavy held up his big hands.

“A Texas gentleman never tells when asked to keep a secret, consider it done pardner,” The small man nodded, furrowing his brow over his welding goggles.

“Is good, Удачи,” The Russian gave a comrade hand wave gesture, and walked off.

The tentaspy made right for the back door, sneaking out and cloaking, the disguise fading away in the safety of invisibility. As the stress of the moment was over, his trained concentration for infiltration receded...and he could truly revel in his success. Like endorphins straight to the brain, that rush of interaction, infiltration, making eye contact and the other fully believing you were someone else...it was wonderful.

Dominique shivered with excitement as he rolled in the canal waters, tentacles fanning out and stretching. Keeping himself so compressed in the disguise, and not being able to touch, it was so hard on him physically. He writhed smirking smugly to himself.

He’d keep a closer eye on that Engineer now, to see what he made...made with what he gave him. There was change happening because of him...

Not to mention Lance’s file was full of holes, it needed much fleshing out.
>> No. 2650
I am intrigued. I'm really enjoying Dominique's progression into the belly of the RED beast sofar-- I really wonder how this is going to pan out. You seem to have a real fondness for our little Spy, which is just fun to read. Please, continue.
>> No. 2651
Now I'm curious. What was the original draft like, exactly?

Other than that, I am definitely interested in this. Heheh. Years can go by, but there will always be a Medic and a Heavy screwing each other, eh?
>> No. 2658
Oh wow, this is so much better than the original, and I liked the original. I love where this is going.
>> No. 2664
I really enjoyed the original Dominique when I was reading it, but I can see why you chose to change the parts that you have done. This re-write is brilliant. I can't wait for more!
>> No. 2866
>>26 The progression will continue! I so indeed have a great fondness for Domi, and tentaspies in general, but it's a strange love that waivers between wanting to see them happy and loving to torture them, hehehhh.

>>27 It was pretty much completely different from where Lance comes in. Main change was that this one is more 'stock TF2-y' - I really like the emotional wrenching and romantic aspects of the first one, it just wasn't manly/realistic enough. And haha yes Medic/Heavy steryotype, thrown in half for lulz, but also I do love the idea of that pairing.

Glad people are liking the rewrite, thanks for your comments! If you want to (these kinds of things always help me / I love to see them): What things in particular stand out to you as good? Also any suggestions for improvement as I continue?
>> No. 2867
This is of course assuming TF2 present takes place around 1968, as per that famous calendar seen in one of the respawn rooms.

[Part 11]

It was to the RED Engineer’s delight the BLU metal allowed him to make thinner, sleeker designs like he had down on blueprint paper. While he still used the typical beefed up sentries and dispensers on the field to protect his team and RED’s property, off hours he tinkered with some fancy welding work.

“Well ain’t that a hell of a thing,” Roscoe circled Lance’s latest endeavor, a level 1 sentry that seemed light on its stabilizers. “This one might actually hold up to battle, AND be fast to deploy!”

“Might take it out tomorrow, I rekon,” Lance grinned back, wiping some grease off his hands, “It’s not necessary for war machines to be beautiful, but well, I guess I’m a bit of an artist trapped in an engineer’s body,” He chuckled.

“Engineering IS an art, Lance.” The other RED said with resolve.

“True, true...jes this isn’t the sleekest of battlefields...no need for pomp ‘n’ circumstance. And here I am still designing things that belong on some grand battlefield.” He paused in thought for a moment, “I guess I wish some of mah designs couldn’t seen something grand, like the World War, all those lovely guns and planes, I remember lookin at some’a them in the museum.” He pet a hand idly over the rivets on his work.

“I don’t think any of ya’ll designs are going to end up in any museums outta this place,” William broke Lance’s little fantasy, and their conversation, just barely glancing up from something he was sanding in his corner of the shop. “Company is too secretive, to begin with.”

Lance was struck silent for a moment as he kind of realized his daydreams were being shot down openly and he hadn’t even obtusely revealed them, “Tch, well, with the money I’m getting from this job, I’ll be able to start mah own company. We’ll make the prettiest damn weapons you ever did see,” He gave a bit of a mocking tone, chuckling and getting up to give an appropriate gesture. But it wasn’t a joke. He wanted to be his own boss, produce his own designs.

Sleek, beautiful weapons, perhaps reminiscent of a more romantic era, but none the less deadly. And with his own workshop, he could make other things too, useful inventions that could be in everyday homes. And who knows, maybe something of his would end up in a museum one day...

“Mmm humm you would,” William gave a face and went back to his work.

As the Engineer’s talked, they were being watched from a rafter corner...where the tentaspy was scribbling down this new information into his notes file. He smiled softly, it was both bittersweet and encouraging to hear other’s dreams and wants...for while his own dreams were diverted like a river with a bolder thrown into it, he took a strange pride to think how these men he cataloged might go on to achieve theirs.

Roscoe and William left to grab dinner...Lance stayed behind for a few extra minutes, putting some finishing touches on that special sentry, sparks reflecting in his goggles as he did small spot welds. The tentaspy pet a finger over his slightly damp notepad, the locking plastic bag that kept it dry underwater crinkling against the back. It was so amazing to see what he did meant something to the Engineer’s labors. He wondered what the new machine would look like in combat.

Lance left to go to dinner. Dominique slinked to the canal to rewet his drying body, but he found himself drawn back to the base after not too long. He had files to flesh out after all; Lance and Roscoe were both still relatively new members. But of course Dominique seemed to be spending all his time on the dirty blond...

It was a cool night after a hot day. The engineer opened his room window to the soft breeze, locking himself in his small living quarters to prepare for bed. He was not alone, as a watchful party was just outside the window, privy as the stout Texan unclipped his overalls. They were a bit charred and dirty from the day’s work – the garment fell to the curve of the man’s ass, needing a little help to slough completely down to be kicked off. The engineer groaned slightly as he stretched, flopping to the bed so he could kick off his work boots.

Welding goggles removed, revealing hazel eyes hiding underneath. Soon he was completely naked, exposed to the fresh breeze from that window; it felt so good to his skin. Lance leaned over and pulled out his personal suitcase from under the bed. He glanced at the door, then pulled off a hidden compartment panel in the lid when he seemed satisfied things were safe. The tentaspy watched, almost entranced at the sudden secrecy, pen falling silent on his paper.

Out was pulled a pile of slightly dog-eared magazines. The engineer leafed through them, Dominique could catch some of the titles as the covers flashed by, “ONE: The Homosexual viewpoint, January issue 1965.” – “The Male figure review – 1968” , “MANège, 1965” ...which appeared to have Swedish or Danish writing on the cover.

While Dominique had seen plenty of homosexual fooling around on the bases, and some interesting developments between many different parties (Especially past Heavies and Medics, for some reason...), this was the first time he saw someone with gay literature. Such kinds of magazines had not been around long to begin with, perhaps just starting the past decade; Dominique recalled seeing some in boutiques while he was in London, though he never felt a strong urge to read any.

He was interested in ‘people’, so bodies of all kinds came with that as well...though being sexually with one’s own gender was always more risqué – and considered a sin by many. It was not something you wanted to flaunt about, it was not accepted in the open, understandably. You kept it to yourself.

For the Engineer to have such magazines, especially one that looked more intellectual and not just nudie mags, meant he was serious about it, that he was most likely ONLY interested in men, and had known for some time. Known, and gotten good at hiding it. Dominique didn’t think he looked it, he didn’t act in a fashion that would make one think he was ‘that way’. This was how he wanted it, no doubt.

Dominique recalled how the Engineer he was teammates with liked to masturbate while looking at car magazines...well here was his replacement 6 years hence, doing the same to eloquent looking men in gay European circulars.

Taking mental notes now, the tentaspy perched on the windowsill as his suckers clutched up against the wooden siding boards, getting drawn in as the Texan fell to his back, arching softly against the mattress with a hand down his boxers. He gasped softly, quietly, like he didn’t want anyone to hear.

“AGGnnnn...” He groaned in a hushed whisper, rolling his hips and tweaking over his right nipple, like he was pretending someone was there with him pleasuring him, “Y...yea...geezus fuck...”

As the Engineer was pleasuring himself, Dominique soon found he was doing the same. It wasn’t the first time he’d spied on team members and done this...he longed for that physical connection - besides being a sensual blooded, middle aged man, he also felt an extra twinge of need when his animal instilled hormones kicked in. It surprised the tentaspy how strongly his urges kicked in watching, hearing, smelling the stout little Texan. It set his insides ablaze with arousal.

He was so close, it’d be easy for a tentacle to reach out and touch him...snake around that thick erection and slick over him, slime mixing with precum...

Thankfully the Engineer didn’t hear Domi’s small animalistic cry of desperation as he squeezed his suckers around the length of his engorged erection, he was too busy groaning to himself as he twitched with the release of his own orgasm.

“Nnnngg...ahhh....” He gasped to himself, falling limp and ignoring the cum on his chest hair. Lance perked his ears up as he heard a noise outside, like a thunk of something soft falling to the ground. Could have been a possum...or any other wild creature, but with the heebie jeebies he was getting recently like someone was watching him, he didn’t take chances. He closed the blinds on his window and shut it to a locked slit, it would block some of the cool air but it was worth the privacy as he slept.

Out of sight, Dominique was gasping to dry sounding lungs as he copiously came, the smell and sounds of the little engineer still ringing in his nostrils and ears. He writhed on the ground, a jumble of slimy tentacles and pinstripes, tensed hands gripping at the cold grass. Goodness, that was excellent. He had not had an orgasm quite like that in a long time. He shakily got out his water flask and downed all he had left in it.

It took him a little time before he had energy to move again – but soon the tentaspy was curled up in his den, plotting a few more things through his mind before he fell asleep...
>> No. 2992
So very interesting...
>> No. 2993
I love this!!! <333 Please continue 8)
>> No. 2994
>>33
Please don't do that.

Man, this is great! I have to say, this is way better than the original. Keep going, please!
>> No. 3005
And what exactly am I doing wrong? I'm just showing that I appreciate this work ._.
>> No. 3006
>>33 I believe it's the emoticons. People generally frown on them here. I personally think it's stupid to fret over that kind of thing, but I suppose they have reasons.

Anyways, emoticons=no.
>> No. 3009
>>33
>>34
>>36
Animu emoticons make you look underage, and are liable to get you banned. Try reading the rules sometime, kay?
>> No. 3323
ahh giving this a love bump.

Hope you update this soon!
>> No. 3325
I shed a tear...
>> No. 3342
Ahaha I got bumped! Well the chapter was about done anyway, here you guys go:

[Part 12]

“Isn’t it a bit hot out to be doin’ that tonight?” The oldest engineer glanced at Lance as he was trotting out the door with a large toolbox.

“I want to get this done; you know how it is when you are inspired, yea?” Lance flashed his goggles at him with a tilt of the head, with an appropriate smirk of knowledgeable mischief.

William gave a ‘you’re crazy’ head shake, going back to his own work, though he couldn’t help but admire the younger man’s enthusiasm.

Lance worked alone outside, heating up that BLU metal to a hot red, then bending it into the right shape before it cooled. He had a protective smock, and thick gloves on both hands, to shield from sparks off the hot metal. As William had warned, it was indeed a hot evening, and the Engineer was sweating under the brunt of it. He just wanted to get the idea realized; heat wouldn’t stop him from working when he was inspired.

He was concentrating so hard he did not even hear the de-cloaking of a Spy...

“Laborer,” A French accent spoke, making the industrious engineer glance up.

“Spah?” Lance blinked behind his dark goggles, giving a curious look to their team spy there leaning against a thin tree in all his RED pinstriped swagger. The Engineer seemed a bit annoyed to be disturbed while working, or perhaps it was that he was still bitter of the lack of thanks for his careful fixing of the Spy’s disguise kit, “Fancy you actually givin’ audience in person, yea?” He said in a loaded fashion, but his tone was not snide, merely dismissive. He gave a few strong hits to the metal in front of him before it completely cooled.

The Spy chuckled, “Eet iz possible, oui.” The lithe man strolled closer, all the way around to the other side of the Engineer, giving the Texan a ‘being circled by a shark’ vibe, “I came in person to thank you for fixing my disguise kit. Eet iz much appreciated.” He said it like he KNEW that is what the Texan was waiting for. He took out the kit for a moment for emphasis, twirling it in his fingers, “Good as new.”

The engineer, besides a look of disbelief, seemed to light up, his work actually being recognized, who doesn’t like that? He was proud of his skills; he gave a prideful smile and straightened up, “Much obliged, good to see you have some kind’a manners.”

“Do you really theenk so low of me, monsieur?” He gave that feigned voice only a Spy can do with the proper level of mild snarky. “Ze BLU Spy ruins your machines, but I would never do zhat, don’t hate all us Spies, oui?”

The Spy was being awfully friendly, thought Lance. It was suspicious. What kind of interest would a man like him have with a stout, grease-monkey Texan, other than to manipulate into another favor? Lance was nobodies fool.

The engineer gave a sideways eye as the RED Spy casually pulled a cigarette from his kit. He put it to his thin, wide mouth, but stopped when he went to light it, “You don’t smoke, correct?” he asked, the fag hanging from his moist inner lip as he talked, “Your colleague does but I ‘ave not seen you doing so ever.” As he referred to William.

“Did when I was younger, but not any more,” Lance replied simply, making a face like he’d appreciate it if the man DIDN’T smoke right in his vicinity, especially when he was working.

The Spy left the un-lit cig, “Well, I’ll be the gentleman I am and respect your workspace while I am ‘ere,” He took it from his mouth, dangling it in his fingers in habit and gesturing with it.

“You practically chain smoke those things,” The Engineer chuckled like he couldn’t believe the man could go without his fix for five minutes, as he putting the piece of metal back into the furnace;

“Now Spah, while I don’t dislike yer company, you must be here for a reason, and I don’t like you pussyfootin’ ‘round the subject, so what else kin’ I do for ya?” While he was internally flattered Spy would think he was favorable company, he knew that couldn’t be the case for a backstabber like him. And he didn’t like being buttered up into doing something.

The Spy looked hurt, being him it was a feigned sort of sarcastic ‘hurt’, “Monsieur! Might eet be possible I just wanted to say thank you...?” He leaned in to look closer as the hot metal piece was taken from the furnace, glowing orange and white, “Also, I’m curious about this...theeng.” He gestured to the dispenser taking shape off to the side, “I saw your new sentry on ze field ze other day. Smaller, lighter, faster to deploy. You ought to push ze front lines weeth such a theeng. Very impressive.” He went to take a drag off his cigarette, but grumbled when he remembered he’d not lit it to be polite.

At least this is mostly how the RED Spy would act, thought Domi - Who was falling nicely into the role.

It was funny to be pretending to be a nicotine addict again, he used to chain smoke just as much as the current RED Spy...but having gills stopped that habit dead in its tracks.
While he was playing the guise of the RED Spy, he was speaking from his own mind when it came to what he was saying. It was him, in the body of the RED. He was using him like a second skin.

“Jes a new dispenser model. Should be lighter to carry.” Lance smirked back, unbelieving the Spy even took interest in his original alterations, or sentries in general beyond sapping and destroying them, “To go with my sentry.”

Dominique wanted to snake his tentacles all over that fancy dispenser, feel it inside and out, explore its curves and rivets. He bit his lip, realizing soon after that was more so what he wanted to do to its creator.

He consciously coiled a tentacle around all his over ones, like tying them down with a noose. They were nestled in nicely against himself, keeping within the disguise cloak. He was drying quickly in the heat, though with the sun set, the air was cooling steadily. The arid heat was most a problem as he felt his chest going dry...needy for moisture, the feeling creeping up his throat.

He was making use of the fact the real RED Spy was in his room drinking wine and fapping in the mirror with a disguise of the RED Sniper on himself. Best to make use of his time...

“Well I theenk eet is very inspired,” The RED Spy sauntered over, leaning in a teasing manner onto the end of the big metal workbench, very much in the man’s personal space, “I’ve destroyed many a BLU machine, and this eez nothing like anything I’ve seen.”

The Engineer looked a little worried. Or was it intimidated surprise? He gave a shove to the Spy’s shoulder with his wrench, “Yer in mah way Spah, you’re going to get hot metal in your mouth keeping your mug there.”

The Spy chuckled in amusement, giving the Texan his space, then looking like he remembered something, “Ah! Well, eef you are so eager to do something else for me...I DO ‘ave something you could look at...”

It had dawned on Domi his Cloak and Dagger needed fixing too. He shouldn’t pass up this opportunity.

The RED Spy unhooked a watch from his wrist, giving it to the Engineer, who held out a thickly gloved hand. The Spy pet his finger tips over the leather-protected palm, lingering as he gave the equipment, “Eet needs a tune up, the cloak has been on ze fritz, S'il vous plait?”

The Texan felt a rush of heat, and it wasn’t just the sweat from the heavy protection gear he was wearing. He put the spy watch in a pocket, “It...it shouldn’t be a problem,”

“Merci, much appreciated.” The RED Spy grinned back, pulling away, not before closing the larger fingers of the Texan around the spy gear with another purposeful touch.

In reality, Domi was pulling away so hastily as some tentacles were creeping their suckers up the edge of the table and inches from latching onto Lance. He was having far too much fun with himself...getting to flirt with the little Engineer, TOUCHING another living being with suave appeal. He felt like his old self again in a fleeting moment. He mustn’t lose himself in the moment...blow his cover...

“Cough cough!”
“Spah?” Lance looked over as the man was leaving, hearing the dry cough.

The taller man waved a hand dismissively, “Ze dust is just irritating my already needy lungs,” He hoarsely said, flicking his lighter open, “I weel be back for my gear tomorrow evening Laborer,” Being it was Friday night they’d have off tomorrow.

The Spy, even without a cloaking device, seemed to vanish all the same.

Once he was alone the Engineer stood a little dumfounded for a moment. He replayed over in his mind the Spy’s behavior...certainly he couldn’t deny it felt like that Frenchie was flirting with him.

He was a mixture of suspicious and....aroused. What if he WAS flirting with him? What if he WAS actually interested? What if –

Lance paled and nearly dropped his wrench. That Spy could get into anything and go anywhere...what if he’d seen his...secret belongings? OF course, that would explain how he was playing things up with him, using him for favors because he knew he’d fall for his flirting and could blackmail him if he refused. Lance did NOT want just any people knowing...especially a team of mercenaries he was stuck with for a year long contract. Lord knows a bunch like that wouldn’t exactly be approving of a ‘pansy’ in their mix...

Lance did not think low of himself for his desires; he just knew the harsh reality of what society thought of them. Laying low meant being safe, and accepted. He didn’t dwell on it too much, that was how things were, and when he got off this job he could go back and find like kind, lord knows he missed it like how much of the men probably missed havin’ ladies around. They were all in the same boat really.

When he fixed that cloaking device and returned it...he thought about if he should confront the Spy about it, or play dumb. Maybe he knew nothing and WAS just being the eccentric flirt he was.

He’d just stay quiet about it all to the Spy, just be ‘normal’, normal as one was in a place like this.
>> No. 3345
I had a dream about your fic... Then you updated. Words cannot express my glee.
>> No. 3346
Words cannot describe the awesomeness of this update!
I am completely hooked on the new fic, just as I was hooked on the old one!
The writing seems better somehow, and the story is more believable (I use this term loosely of course) when it flows as smoothly as this. It feels less rushed, more edited, more refined. It also adds in some confusion later with the RED Spy!
I'm liking it in every way!
>> No. 3353
ah man, bumped it without knowing you already had the chapter done, can't wait to read the rest of this.

I'm really excited about where this is heading
>> No. 3354
I laughed at that line of what the real RED Spy was doing. Loving this whole reboot and hope to see more soon!
>> No. 3364
This redone version has become one of my favorite TF2 fanfictions, and I'm so happy at every update. Please never stop being awesome, and extra-please make sure to finish this thing of beauty!

>>44
I laughed also. Too funny.
>> No. 3732
This is probably my favorite fic with Tentaspy. bump of looooooove~
>> No. 3773
Why you do dat. ='(
>> No. 4021
giving this a small poke
>> No. 4185
This will be updated soon I promise, I just kind of belonged to getting a costume done before Otakon for 3 weeks, then I was at Otakon and just got back the other day. Though if you are a fan of tentaspy you won't regret the time spent, as it was all for bringing Dominique to life.

Photos available of my costume here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/zoroko/sets/72157627204435315/with/5999462633/
And here: (remove spaces) http://lithefider.t u m blr.com/tagged/tentaspy

And if you have not checked out "Fimbriae" yet shame on you! But yea, don't worry I'm still writing, just been busy.
>> No. 4194
Man, this story has me on the edge of my seat! It breaks my heart that it isn't finished yet. Will Domi ever find out how he became a tentaspy? How will he and Lance truly meet, let alone become friends and lovers? Will Domi ever try to join with RED? Will Lance help Domi find a cure? Will they ever retire to Paris? Will Domi have a happy ending? I wanna knowwwwwww!!!!
>> No. 4197
That costume...is insane. That looks awesome! And in three weeks? Jesus. Congrats on a successful con!
...
Now update! Things are just getting interesting.
>> No. 4202
Yeah, that costume is amazing. You deserve a medal, Lithe.

But seriously, please do continue soon. Dominique is my favorite Tentaspy ever. I love.. just everything about it. So.. yes! I look forward to more.
>> No. 4721
>>55 WELL I can say some indeed will be answered, I just gotta keep writing and you gotta keep reading! I can't reveal spoilers, but I can say I know where I am going with this. Just have to find energy an time to write in-between life. (Also thank you <3 )

AND here is finally the next chapter, enjoy!


[Part 13]

“Nnngggg,” The RED-clad Frenchman gave a groan as he got some water from the tap in the kitchen. Thank God it was the weekend, it didn’t matter how hung over he was. He looked a little disheveled with only a single sleeve garter on, a crooked tie, and a half burnt down cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t make me bring up that beauty rest thing again,” The Sniper said as he stole all the coffee from the pot, pouring it into his white mug. He made sure his kukuri was at the ready, considering how the Spy acted LAST time.

The Spy flashed the Australian a wild ‘fuck you’ look, made even more apparent by the dark circles around his eyes, “Careful, I might get bored of stabbing ze BLU Sniper and go after you instead.” He was pissed off enough he had not been sleeping well since...that incident. He’d hoped the wine and self gratification would have helped, but it only did so much. He felt like he was going crazy.

“I’m sure that’ll go over real jolly with RED, Jes make sure you’re doin your job mate,” The man gave a point to him like he was a fucking mess and didn’t look like he was in any shape to do the kind of espionage they excepted of him.

The Spy quieted down, softening a bit like he approved of the Sniper showing some kind of concern for his state of being. “I can take care of myself,” He turned his hooked nose up, “Eet’s you all I am concerned for, ignorant of what eez going on around ‘ere,” He rubbed a hand over those hidden hickey marks on his torso...they were just about gone.

“And what might that be?” Suddenly there was a Texan accent in the mix, as the shorter American was there in a towel like he just came from the showers. He’d overheard the talk from the hall and came in to investigate.

He felt a jolt when the RED Spy looked at him, the worry from last night about blackmail coming his way creating a tension inside him. But his eyes were locked confidently to his comrades with no sign of apprehension outwardly.

“I weel inform you all when I get more intel,” The Spy glanced between the two men, which with their height difference was quite an acrobatic eye move. “I intend to keep this team on top of theengs.”

He’d find that thing that attacked him. He’d find it and prove it if it killed him.

The Frenchman took up his glass of water and moved his cig to his fingers, “One theeng I do know eez there eez a supply train coming today. Keep an eye out for eet, I theenk we are getting a transfer, or perhaps an extra team member altogether.” He made to leave, brushing past the Engineer on his way out.

“See ya later Spah,” The Texan stated in goodbye, while he meant it in a manner of ‘I’ll have your watch ready later,’ the Spy merely gave a tired smirk and a nod like it was just a normal goodbye, not catching the tone.

“Spy givin’ a shit?” Sniper muttered sipping his coffee and making his own leave back for his nest, “Now there’s somethin’ to be suspicious ‘bout.”

“It’s his job to aid this team whether he likes it or not,” Lance smirked, “But really he ain’t such a bad fella.” ... ‘I hope.’

“Since when did Engie’s make friends with spahs?” The Sniper sipped his coffee.

...

Wanting to stay on the Spy’s good side (and wishful thinking that he’d appreciate this second favor as a friendly gesture) Lance got to working on the damaged Cloak and Dagger watch.

The Spy didn’t seem so terrible if you could believe anything he did as somewhat genuine, and not just done for manipulation. Lance had only been there a few months, and while he’d not expected to make ‘friends’ among a bunch of mercenaries, having people you could get along with was always nice. At least he was friendly with the other Engineer, Roscoe, and the Heavy, Boleslav.

The watch was even more intricate than the Disguise kit. Being the tech was packed into an even smaller space. The technology the team provided for the spies was highly advanced, Lance had never heard of anything like it before. He took mental notes on things to add to his own designs by looking at the small devices.

While again being water damaged and an old model, the watch wasn’t in such terrible shape as the Disguise kit. The engineer got it done and then spent the rest of the evening at his workbench doodling up some small designs of his own based off the cloaking watch.

...

Dominique had been so distracted with the Engineer he’d not heard the same intel as the real RED Spy, that he was again using the skin of as he waltzed into the RED base. He suddenly heard the horn of the approaching train in the distance, ‘A Supply train! I’ve never missed one before...how did I not hear of it?’ He fussed to himself, angry with his incompetence. He always liked to be fully informed...

‘Well, while it’s nice to be on top of shipments...doesn’t getting to talk to that RED engineer top your priorities list today?’ he told himself. He DID feel naked without his cloaking watch. He wanted it back as soon as possible.

...

“Peek-a-boo.” A low voice calmly rasped into the Engineer’s ear from behind.

“GEEZUS!” The shorter man startled, nearly falling off his stool and dropping his drafting pencil.

After a hearty laugh (and a few snorts), the RED Spy smiled at the miffed looking Engineer, “Oh...eet was too good to resist, you were so deep in thought.” The fine leather glove pet over the drawings there on the drafting table, “New designs?”

“Y...yea.” The man adjusted his goggles, then put them up to his forehead, “I’m gonna start calling you ‘spook’ like Snipes does at this rate.”

“Oh Mon ami,” The Soy shook his head, still petting over the designs...slowly and purposefully.

After eyeing the Spy’s hands silently, the Texan spoke up “Your watch is done; I assume that’s what yer here for.” He picked the small device out of his front overall pocket. The Spy’s face lit up, and he took his belongings back thankfully, “Merci beaucoup,” He affixed the watch back on his wrist, “You do such lovely work, like un artiste, truly.”

Lance grinned with satisfaction, but man the Spy saying those things in that lovely accent, rolling off his tongue and being so complimentary. Before he could reply the Spy disappeared in a shimmer of air. “Spah?” He blinked, reaching out and feeling nothing, “Tch, running off just like that?” He grumbled and looked about.

“Non, just testing your repairs,” The smooth voice replied, right behind him. The Engineer whirled around, arm bumping into the invisible man making him shimmer for a moment then disappear again. “Damn spook!” He laughed; reaching out again like it was a game. “You forget I’m used to spy checkin’!”

“But I’m no enemy,” The French accent crooned, invisible hands touching to the stout man’s cheeks, sliding to his shoulders and firmly making him turn around on his stool. The Texan calmed down like an obedient dog, a bit frozen as he felt those long ,thin fingers caressing...a bit more than friendly...against his neck and then down to his collar bones.

‘Oh god what are you doing?’ Dominique hissed inside his head. He couldn’t stop...he just wanted to touch, just a little...He’d need to be careful, if the Engineer paid too much attention he might feel his webbing or claws.

All Lance could do was lean back his head to the progressively more intimate, invisible fingers, parted mouth shuddering out increasingly husky breaths. When he felt cool fingers dance over his nipples, he whispered out, “...you won’t tell the men...will you?”

“Tell them what monsieur?” The Spy muttered back, like he had no idea what he was talking about, a coy tone, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and had no intention to make it public.

The Engineer uttered a low moan, god he was good with his hands...it didn’t help he couldn’t see what he was doing, just an occasional shimmer where the cloak faulted under a firmer touch. Seemingly by ‘magic’, an overall clasp was removed, giving the Spy better access to that broad, fuzzed chest.

It was taking lot of willpower to keep his tentacles off the Engineer’s flesh. They were creeping up the stool like an unstoppable force, inches, then just centimeters away from the man’s legs, the nimble tips coiling hard around the stool legs to halt their progress. He couldn’t keep this up much longer...

Domi furrowed up his brow, arms wrapping around Lance’s neck and shoulders, and buried his face into his neck to take a deep inhale of his scent. He could SMELL his arousal like a cologne. The tentaspy muttered a low growled purr, a sound full of longing.

Like an alarm bell waking up the men from a dream, the supply train whistled loudly as it came into the base’s platform. Both men jerked up, the Spy especially, jumping back, and tentacles doing the same (not a moment too soon).

“Dammit the train, scared me half to death, I even knew it was comin’ today...” Lance laughed a little, the shock wearing off him as he looked around for the Spy, “Spah...?” He said tentatively.

“I must be off petite,” The voice said from thin air, Lance indeed caught the roll of a French pet name, “Thank you again... à plus.” And he was gone.

Lance was left a bit in a daze. He fixed his overalls, and smoothed over his velveteen hair. “D...damn Spahs,” He muttered loosely, but his skin was still tingling. God, he wanted do try that again, and not be interrupted... As much as he liked this development, he just couldn’t be at ease in his mind. He was still worried he’d tell the team. Then everyone would know he was a faggot, and then would come the dirty looks, the slurs, the unfriendly bumps in the hall, the feeling of not being ‘one of the guys’.

“Tch,” He huffed and rolled up his plans, “Jes keep yer head, everythin’ will be okay,” He muttered to himself as he ran off to help unload the train. ‘You’re not a kid anymore, don’t act like a damn coward.’

...

It seemed every encounter with the Engineer ended in masturbation. Heated, writhing, gut tingling release.

But it relaxed him and relieved the tension...momentarily. So next time he could try again, to get a little closer. Dominique didn’t trust his body, next time he might be all over the man. He had to be patient. Patience was a Spy’s virtue...
>> No. 4722
Yay, an update!

Awesome as always, except you misspelled "Spy" as "Soy" at one point, which made me chuckle.
>> No. 4723
Hurrah! I love this story. I saw a French typo in there, too, actually, but only one. 'petite'. Should be 'petit' where the person referred to is male. The E on the end is only added for females.
>> No. 4724
Oh, holy crap this was really awesome. Thank you so much for the update. I'm so glad you came back!
>> No. 4725
I think I speak for everyone when I say HELL YEAH!

Ahem.

'Bout time this got an update.
>> No. 4726
No words can describe the joy I felt at the discovery of an update. I've read the first incarnation, and this newer one is just as deliciously exciting as that, maybe more. I certainly hope you do find more time to write, as my non-rape Tentaspy kink certainly needs sating.
>> No. 4742
>>58
I agree, there needs to be more non-rape Tentaspy. There's only one other fic on that chan with that in, but it's very good.
http://tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/3688.html
>> No. 4749
What an amazing character! I love the way you describe how he controls the tentacles. Supercool.

This tentaspy keeps showing up; what are his origins? I've read through the archives, but I can't tell which one is the original.
>> No. 4750
>>54 , >>55 Oh thank you! They are already fixed in the file for when I re-post this anywhere.

>>56 I never left! I was just busy with >>49 (work, life, RP, making costume tentacles, the usual).

>>57 , >>58 I think the rewrite is a big improvement myself, all thanks to the con-crit of readers and friends. I will try to make the next updates not be so long in-between. As for non-rape tentaspy, yes, we need more of those. Not that I don't enjoy a well written, guilty pleasure, down and dirty tentaspy porn fic sometimes. ;)

>>59 that was written by my friend, her tentaspy, Maurice, is a gentleman (also a troll, haha), he and Domi know each other very abstractly (barely interacted) in our group roleplay. But yea, Maurice is indeed a non-rape tentaspy too. Medicine is working on another fic with Maurice I think, to tell her she has interested parties.

>>60 Goodness thank you! I have a lot of fun with it. From what I know (as it happened before I entered the fandom) it was from a simple Little Mermaid joke fanart, then the tentacle and monster fetishists took hold of it, and made it their own with more srs bsnss and plot behind it. Not everyone likes it, and they don't have to, but for us who like monsters, from feral to tragic and tortured, and combined with the aura of The Spy, it's good fun. I myself have been a gills/water creature person since I was a kid, so it was something that wasn't hard for me to jump into, hehehh.
>> No. 4756
As much as you like water creatures, I'm rooting for Lance to eventually find a way to fix Dominique. Eventually. After much tentasex. Then they can skip and shag into the sunset.
>> No. 4767
Any chance you could link us to your other Maurice stories?
>> No. 4770
>>63

Maurice is my tentaspy, actually. The fic that >>59 linked is one I posted awhile back. I'm actually working on a follow-up chapter right now. That's a project I'm writing solo. However, there's a much more explicit story-format RP I wrote with a friend involving Maurice here http://ya*oi.y-gallery.net/view/712196/ . Minus the * of course, on account of retarded wordfilters.
>> No. 4772
>>64
Won't open, something about compression is invalid or some shit. What's the background for Maurice?
>> No. 4777
>>65 It just means you need to log in. Dunno why it gives that error and not just prompt to log in or redirect to frontpage.
>> No. 4954
(Next part is nearly complete too, I promise I won't leave you all hanging at the end of this part long, that would be too cruel)

[Part 14]


The RED Spy....was becoming a nuisance.

He had started poking his nose about the fences, stalking suspiciously past the canals, looking at everyone with suspicion, when he barely even knew what he was LOOKING for. Apparently he hadn’t thought Domi had just been a dream...as the tentaspy had hoped with the chance encounter. He was haunted by the event.

It made it hard for Dominique to sneak into RED after hours, especially if he was acting so different from RED Spy himself. And to disguise as someone else, the Spy might take notice on such high alert. At least he had fully working equipment now, his confidence was high and he was able to move about with the most amazing stealth and ease, a fearsome thing to anyone who might be considered an enemy.

With how the RED Spy was poking about he might have to worry about HAVING such an enemy...

But to Lance, all he knew was that RED Spy was following him around closer and closer, like a terrible tease. If the man wanted him, why didn’t he just TAKE him? Man like him must be used to doing that, getting anyone he wanted. Was he just teasing him out of spite, did he want something else? Or was he actually...courting him?

The engineer turned around one afternoon in the locker rooms, what used to be a empty bench, suddenly there was a half naked RED Spy lounging there.

“GEEZUS!” Lance gasped, dropping his overalls that he was TRYING to put on.

“OH, ‘ello Petit,” The Spy crooned like nothing was unusual.

“Spah, y...ya don’t have’ta sneak up on me to git my attention.” Lance gave him a face as he put on his clothes properly.

“But you love eet,” The Spy leaned his head on his hand.

“Do I?” Lance chuckled, biting his lip as he closed his locker.

“I would believe so,” The Spy had a Cheshire grin as he cloaked and vanished in a shimmer of air.

“I see the cloaking device is working jes’ fine!”

“Oui, indeed.” The disembodied voice of the Spy replied coyly, “I’ll see you later, mon cher...”

‘See me later?’ Lance narrowed his eyes in thought, ’oh now he’s just making me paranoid...’

Domi took the opportunity to re-moisten himself, and prep mentally for what he was going to try to do...but as he was finishing up making use of the RED showers, and waiting to listen for when Lance would retire to his room for the night, the sounds of Italian leather shoes came down the hallway floors.

It was the real RED Spy. The tentaspy saw as he cloaked and crept into the hallway, ‘Merde!’ he hissed to himself. Thankfully Lance narrowly missed seeing him; he was in the workshop. Most likely cleaning up his blueprints before bed.

‘No, you WON’T be messing things up!’ Domi narrowed his eyes, invisible and watching; he’d waited and mentally prepped for this for too long. Something primal and impulsive snapped in him.

COMPETITION.

The voice hissed.

HE’LL TRY TO STEAL YOUR MATE.

The Spy didn’t even know what hit him. Dominique was a silent killer, dropping onto the RED from above like a spider. Tentacles quick as lightening wrapped and restrained him, muffling his voice like a gag, while Domi pulled the RED’s head to the side to expose his neck. The Spy struggled like a fly caught in web, eyes going wide as he recognized for a split second what had him. A swift bite, that was all it took, and a strong dose of paralyzing venom stopped the struggling.

“Hello?” Lance glanced out into the hall.

But it was empty.

“Lance?” Roscoe looked over; William barely looked up from his desk.
“Thought I heard something...”

...

“Fais de beaux rêves,” Domi had a predatory smile as he gave the half naked, unconscious Spy a kiss on the forehead and laid him down in his room. “I promise I’ll return these...” Domi adjusted the red suit on his torso, and made sure the balaclava was straight before he left.

...

Later, Lance was ready to turn in for the night, and thought he was alone in his room as he was undressing. He was getting a little wiser to the RED Spy’s ‘feel’ now, especially after what he said earlier. He felt prickles up his spine, and looked around.

“Spah, I know yer there.” He smirked.

A cloak shimmered into view, the RED Spy was there leaning on his dresser.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were courtin’ me,” The Texan gave a sideways glance as he removed the grease-stained overalls. Spy knew his secret and seemed of like kind; best to try and go with it...see where this went. The Spy sure was pushing hard enough. It was all in, or fold, Lance thought. ‘I never was too good at Texas Hold 'Em anyway,’ He thought.

The RED Spy’s face softened a little, surprising the Engineer, “I did not want to ...rush you, petit.”

“Rush me?” The engineer took a seat on the side of his bed, “You kin’ ‘rush me’ some more if you really want...” He gave a look that was less than innocent.

That was more than an open invitation to Dominique.

Like a striking predator, he came in for the kill, only his prey wasn't running scared. "Ahh!" Lance moaned in surprise at how the Spy came in like a force of nature. The taller man had leaned over him on the side of the bed, a hand beside him and the other grasping behind his head. But as soon as the initial shock was over, he was kissing right back to those skilled lips, their mouths opening wide and their motions firm and needy.

Only when they let up for a breather did Domi really have a chance to allow that to sink in, “Magnifique,” He rolled off that talented French tongue in a low groan, “Très magnifique,” He echoed with a grin, nuzzling into Lance’s face.

“Geezus, you’re some kisser,” Lance propped himself up on his elbows, then switched to wrapping them around the Spy’s red suit, ‘He smells like cigarettes and cheap wine,’ Lance thought, smelling his clothes, but it was strange because he didn’t taste any hint of what one would attest to a smoker’s mouth or a drinker’s lips...he tasted musky and damp. Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

As per Domi’s training to himself, he was wrapping his tentacles around themselves in tight coils, making two ‘legs’ of sorts that he was using to support his weight over the Engineer. This also helped them hide in the cloak even this close and touching the bed. However, it wouldn’t stop the other from feeling their texture or suckers if he touched them with bare skin.

“Now, let me do all ze work, oui?” The RED Spy pushed Lance’s back to the bed.

Even with all his mental preparation, Domi knew his tentacles would wander, this could end badly. If he could at least keep them OFF Lance, he could get away with it. But any deviation from the cloak, they would flicker and be highly noticeable. Well, he’d planned something to get around that...

He put on a little show, unbuttoning his coat, his vest, loosening his tie...the engineer tried not to stare too slack jawed, but goodness, he had a way about him - so sophisticated, such...a gentleman. How he used his hands, the way the pinstriped jacket was shrugged from his shoulders. Everything came off with care except his pants and mask that seemed to perfectly hug the man’s hooked nose and sharp cheekbones. God there was something about that mask...

“MRMPH!” Lance’s staring gaze was smacked with the man’s vest and shirt. When his vision was cleared, the Spy was right there, with his un-done tie.

“Ze show is over Mon Cheri,” The Frenchman smiled mischievously. Lance glanced down at the Spy’s lithe body, but not moments after the tie was being put around his head like a blindfold.

“Hey!” The Texan yelped, but it was a playful tone. He reached out and grabbed the spy at the hips...dangerously close to his tentacled half for Domi...and just under his gills. ‘Too close!’ Domi hissed to himself. He took the Engineer’s hands and kissed them in a tender but dominant way, “I thought I told you to let me do ze work...?”

“Not fair you kin’ touch and I can’t,” Lance tilted his head. He was a little nervous being made vulnerable to the Spy...but that also made it kind of exciting. ‘He’s on your team, he won’t HURT you...’

“Oui, eet’s not...but...please indulge me for now. Eet will be fun,” He made it like a game. Lance just assumed he was being kinky.

So the engineer laid back, arms above his head, and put himself at the Spy’s mercy.
>> No. 4957
You. I love you. Normally I don't actually post on here, I just lurk. But you just posted this update, which I read. And then I reread the entire thing from be beginning. Because I love this story. And Dominique is quite possibly my favorite tentaspy. Of all time. Look, I'm even lapsing into sentence fragments. Because it's that awesome.
>> No. 4959
Oh, God, please do NOT keep us waiting for too long! This is amazing.

I am so glad that there was an update. Best way to start my morning.
>> No. 4961
An update so soon? You are spoiling us sir/madam. Please continue to do so.
>> No. 4963
I didn't care for tentaspies before, but after reading this, I'm hooked! I love all of the details describing Dominique, how he reacts to his body and surroundings; it makes it more believable and enjoyable to read, well atleast to me it does!

also Lithe, I love your tentaspy costume as well, the tentacles and gloves look amazing!
>> No. 4965
(As promised <3 Cause you guys are awesome.)


[Part 15]

It was just too perfect.

The engineer laid out before him, hands above his head, like a delicious meal waiting to be devoured.

“Mmmm,” Dominique hummed; petting a hand over Lance’s remaining clothes article (his boxers) as he danced his thin lips over his chest. As amazing as this was...and as much as he was enjoying it, it was hard to fully appreciate the moment. He was spending so much time focusing on his tentacles, keeping them coiled; keeping them away from Lance, and at the same time he was concentrating on maintaining his cool. He wanted his touch to be as pleasurable and luxurious as it always was, he didn’t want Lance to get a shell of his former glory. He wanted him to feel good, to FEEL how much he had been longing for him...

“Ahhh!” The Engineer writhed, grinding his hips under the RED Spy’s talented fingers and mouth. The man’s touch was cool and smooth. He rolled out husky moans, breathing reduced to shuddering.

“So ‘ard so quickly,” Domi crooned in the RED Spy’s voice, though it was all his tone, all his words and manner of saying it...the RED was just a façade.

“You seem t’ have that effect on me,” He laughed lightly back. Lance didn’t think that blindfold would do much for him, but damn he was rather enjoying it now. He was a visual person, but focusing only on the touch, and not knowing WHERE it was coming or going, made it tingle that much more.

Domi pushed down the boxers, just enough to let his erection free. It was a good reflection of it's owner, stocky, which made the uncut cock seem shorter than it was. Like a cat to cream, he licked down the stout man’s lightly fuzzed chest, and right onto his cock, taking it in a hand. He tried to keep his fingers together to hide the feeling of his webbing.

“Geezus fuck!” Lance bucked, gripping the bed sheets as he threw his head back. He REALLY wished he could see now, that amazing image in his mind of the Spy sucking him off...his imagination ran away with him as he was orally pleasured, trying to picture every lick and hot breath visually.

If only he could really see, there was a confused cloak shimmering all around, the free tentacles not acting as ‘legs’ gripping to every surface in the room, Domi constantly glancing and checking...

Not only that, his throat was going dry. He took one last lick of the head of Lance’s thick erection, then discreetly grabbed for his water flask. Lance heard it...the sound of the metal lid being unscrewed, and the liquid sloshing inside. Because he didn’t feel any sting of alcohol on his penis when the moist mouth returned, he assumed it was just water...? ‘Well lord knows my mouth could sometimes get a little dry during this kind of thing,’ Lance thought back to the last time he was doing this, it’d been years sadly.

Domi gave a guttural groan into the Engineer’s spongy corona, which hid the pained churrrr in his throat. A sound of want for MORE....he wanted so badly to let loose. He gripped his hands into the man’s legs and then around the sides to cup under his ass, which pressed his chest through Lance’s legs like a wedge, widening their spread. Domi nuzzled and moaned and licked at every inch of his blonde-fuzzed thighs he could get to.

‘more...more contact...mon dieu...please...’. His gills fluttered at the air with his deeper breaths, and unseen tentacle tips curled like toes.

He sucked harder, and used his hands like a musician over an instrument, ‘oh you are making some sweet music for me indeed...’ Dominique thought, using the tip of his tongue in quick little flicks at Lance’s cock head in time with his hand motions.

This elicited even louder groaning, which was suddenly muffled by the Spy’s mouth over his. He’d jumped up, pressing their chests together. Lance could taste his own salty flavor on the man’s lips; his hands flew up and gripped around Spy’s shoulder blades and head as he mouthed back wetly.

The Spy’s tongue delved around in his mouth, like a violating force – but Lance welcomed the heated, unbridled condition. He didn’t even protest as his boxers were removed, leaving him fully exposed.

Dominique was getting a little sloppy as they got this frenzied. He felt himself slipping, getting lost in the pleasure...god it was so good...he’d been so long without, even just this was pure ecstasy. Lance brushed past the frills on his arms and back, they went unnoticed in the passion of the moment. Tentacles bumped into the engineer’s legs as Domi straddled over him, they were passed off as his pants covered legs as the drying backs were becoming more and more leathery. ‘He’s blindfolded...he won’t know...’ he kept telling himself.

It was then he got even bolder.

His erect penis had made itself known some time ago, Domi was keeping it busy around the large suckers of his under mantle, and was basically pleasuring himself. He swallowed, then slowly, consciously now, snaked it out, and brought it up between his ‘legs’ (which was now just a horrible twisted mess of tentacles). He tried not to think about how fake this all was; what an indulgent and deceptive fantasy he was playing. He tried to praise his cleverness and control thus far.

His webbed hand easily enveloped both of them, their two cocks pressing together. He took a deep breath, calming himself and slowing things down a little. The Spy proceeded to jerk both of them off, bucking his ‘hips’ with the other in purposeful, firm motions.

When Lance felt that heat and pulsing, he knew what the Spy was up to, “Spah, fuck, that feels amazin’...” He groaned, back arching, wishing he could see the man’s erection for himself.

Their pace quickened before too long, gasps becoming deeper and motions more frenzied. As pleasure overtook them both they flew off the handle, moaning and writhing, sloppily kissing, nipping at necks, foreheads pressing into one another, anywhere they could reach. Lance convulsed and came first, hard and sudden. Domi let his body relax just long enough not far after...his cries a bit animalistic as he hit a searing high that was accompanied by his own release. He collapsed on top of the Texan, breathing hoarsely, his whole body limp.

Lance was breathing hard too, a husky laugh escaped his throat - he was thinking ‘geezus was that you that came so much? I can feel it dripping down my side...’

Domi stayed like that as long as he dared, exhausted and sated, their two bodies dappled with sweat and the engineer acting as his mattress.

With both hands on the engineer’s jaw, Dominique gave some parting, passionate kisses to the shorter man, before he smoothly slipped backwards. His body needed water; he could feel his tentacles becoming harder to move, weak and slow. After too long he’d become too dry to be able to walk on his limbs.

Lance got a feeling of dread as he felt the other man suddenly slipping away; he ripped the tie from his eyes. The Spy was gone.

“Spah?” He called out, sitting up.

“I’m sorry Mon Cheri I must be going...I would love to cuddle more, but next time, oui?” He tried to keep his voice up beat, but really it was killing him. As much as he was proud of himself for both his control and cleverness, it wouldn’t be long now before the real RED Spy ruined things, and Lance would find out...things couldn’t stay like this forever.

“Why do you hav’ta go? I won’t tell anybody...’ell I was worried you’d tell about me...” Lance almost pleased, feeling a bit abandoned.

“No one will know, and I trust you...I trust you.” The voice said as a hand grabbed the tie from Lance’s grasp, flickering for just a moment before it vanished within the cloak as well.

Lance didn’t stop the Spy as he watched his door open and shut on its own.

He sighed, not liking that the man didn’t stay, that didn’t sit right with him...but he must have his reasons. Maybe he was too damn trusting. But when the Spy said that, that he trusted HIM, his tone was like he had something worth entrusting, as if he had something to lose.

His hand slicked over his sticky chest, and it brought a satisfied smile to his lips, ‘Great now I need another shower before bed...’
>> No. 4966
Ungh. Just... ungh.

I'll be on my windowsill, et merci beaucoup pour les lettres que vous ecrivez.
>> No. 4968
I don't know whether I should look forward to, or absolutely dread when Lance finds out about Domi's true nature. Update again soon!
>> No. 4972
and you spoil us rotten.

Can't wait to read more, though you would think thant Lance would ahve felt the tentacles or the mantle or at least the suckers underneath when Domi 'stradled' him.
>> No. 4975
I've been lurking and watching this story for a while, and I absolutely LOVE IT.

And now we're finally getting to the dirty bits. Umph.

I love you. Let's have a baby.
>> No. 4976
Oh. My. God. For the love of god, I'm sorry, allow me to adjust my post-multiple-orgasm face and just... Please continue.
>> No. 4980
Tonight is a night for spoiling! Huzzah!

>>74 One way or another he's going to find out, you'll just have to wait and see how

>>75 Domi actually never straddled him, his "feet" were on the floor the whole time, "legs mostly together" as he was leaning over Lance who was sitting legs over the edge of the bed. Domi did that for that reason, because if he did straddle him Lance would have indeed felt mantle and suckers no matter how much he balled himself up. Even when he flopped on top of him, it would have just been the drying (not slimy anymore) outside parts of his tentacle tops pressing against Lance's groin, that (in theory) would feel like the RED Spy's pants to a not-paying-total-attention-blindfolded Lance. Hope that clears that up :)

>>68 , >>71 , >>76 Oh lurkers come one come all, I love hearing from you. Glad you like the (finally) smut, hehehh.

>>77 OH-MY-Sulu.avi
>> No. 4982
Oh, god, Lithe that was very hot. I couldn't believe that we got two updates in one day! Oh, man. I'm very glad.

But I feel so bad for Dominique! I want him to be able to be himself but I'm also terrified of what Lance will do when he finds out. Ahh it's so intense!

Also, I just thought I'd say, Domi is my favorite Tentaspy. Ever.
>> No. 4983
Been creeping on this story for a bit, now. Kind of have my own tentaspy idea rolling around in the brain. If it ever makes it on the chan, you can bet I'm giving a shout out to you for being my inspiration.
>> No. 4985
Ah, I love this fic so much. Yum.
>> No. 5008
Woah woah, hold up. I thought this was supposed to be consentacles? In what world is intentionally lying to someone about your identity to have sex with them not rape?

Also, spying on and watching someone without their knowledge is not romantic - it's creepy.

See: Twilight
>> No. 5010
Hmm, I think it's a bit different. Aside from briefly masquerading as someone else which carries a big risk if someone touches him in the wrong area, Domi has no human contact aside from watching people. He can't escape, and he has no social life. He seems to observe and watch people as a way to cling to his humanity, so he doesn't withdraw completely and just become a monster. He also quit eating scraps of dead people for that reason.

But the whole identity issue and essentially lying to Lance, that's something else. On one hand I can sympathize with Domi because he hasn't been with another person for years and he's constantly at risk because he can't respawn and if he reveals himself to someone and they freak out, he could end up vivisected or something. On the other hand, he's not being entirely ethical with Lance. I think things are going to come to a head soon. I hope it's done with finesse, finding out the person you've become attracted to is not only NOT the person you thought he was but someone pretending to be him, but to be this half-human octopus fish thing is a pretty big damn shock.
>> No. 5012
82, you are certainly right as to what does and doesn't constitute rape, though I think this story is still somewhat unique in the fact that it doesn't contain VIOLENT rape, which is usually the norm for tentacle porn. As far as ensuring the ending doesn't veer into "rape=love" territory, I leave that in Lithe's capable hands.

As far as what counts as "romantic" I don't think anyone was implying Domi was being romantic by spying on and indeed manipulating Lance. It's usually flaws, grey areas, and screw-ups like these that not only drive the story forward but help readers relate to the characters and situations and develop feelings about the story's content. Unlike Twilight, this story is recognizing the problems for what they are and utilizing them to create conflict and interest.

Not at all saying you were wrong to point these things out, but just reassuring you that fans of this story probably aren't all idiots and/or bad people.
>> No. 5013
I think 82 was just being a douche, to be honest. Implying that this story reads like Twilight suggests they have read neither. Stop shit-stirring.
>> No. 5014
I think as long as Lance does indeed feel a bit rightfully pissed, and Domi is willing to own up to it, I think it will be fine.
>> No. 5024
Actually, I have read this entire fic thus far. I'm sorry, but it's terribly cliche. It still feels like a high school fantasy romance.

If Lance is a deeply closeted gay man in the 60s, why would he masturbate to trashy European porn with the window open? Why would he be willing to engage in sexual acts with someone whose identity he can't really be sure of? There's more than one Spy on base, and he surely knows they're both capable of disguising. That would be such easy blackmail material.

Also, it doesn't matter whether it was 'violent' or not, rape is still rape. One party knowingly manipulated the other, and took advantage of his trust.

The other issue I take is the infodumping. Yes, having the details of a tentaspy's anatomy can be very cool, but just dumping that information in the middle of the story is very awkward. It needs to be in context within the plot in order to work properly and read well.

On the subject of anatomy, I'm shocked that Domi didn't die or wasn't severely crippled by a stab to the gills. Gills are extremely blood-rich and slicing them open is, predictably, going to make them bleed rapidly. If the bleeding managed to be stopped, there would still be a huge risk of infection.

Domi's extreme dependence on the water is noted frequently, but seems inconsistent. One moment he's drying up because he's out of the canal, and the next he's hanging out in the rafters in one of the bases - far, one assumes, from any source of moisture.

Why would a tentaspy's mantle, when dried out, feel like cloth (a man-made textile)? Amongst all the lip smashing, how did Lance not notice Domi's sharp teeth?

There are just a lot of plot points that don't seem to add up or don't appear to be well thought out. Sex gets the most detail (and, 'spelling out' the groaning/moaning is more humorous than sexy, in my opinion)which would be fine if it was porn-without-plot.

There are quite a few grammar and spelling mistakes, as well, and certain sentences read very awkwardly. For example:

“See ya later Spah,” The Texan stated in goodbye, while he meant it in a manner of ‘I’ll have your watch ready later,’
would be better stated as something along the lines of

"See ya later, Spah," the Texan offered as a farewell, giving a look that promised that the watch would be ready later.

Anyway, sorry for the essay, but constructive crit is given to help improve writing/art/etc. Sorry to disappoint you 85, but I'm not doing this to 'shit-stir' or be a 'douche'. I'm just trying to offer what people used to flock to the chan for, and is now sorely lacking.
>> No. 5025
>>84
"As far as ensuring the ending doesn't veer into "rape=love" territory, I leave that in Lithe's capable hands."

I don't know about that, 84. You must not have read Lithe's other main medic-medic couple... they're the epitome of "rape=love".
>> No. 5027
This post has been deleted.
>> No. 5032
>>87
I do agree with many of the points that you brought up, and sometimes Dominique's drying out sometimes feel like a convenient exit for the character. As for the a lot of the anatomy inconsistencies, I certainly won't argue with you there either, and was wondering how Lance missed his teeth myself. However with the info-dropping about the anatomy, all I really have to say to each their own. Some people enjoy it, others don't, you can't always please everyone.

Having also read the previous version of this story, I'm must point out that this VAST improvement over the original story. It clearly isn't perfect, but there is always room for improvement.

I also agree with you that there is a noticeable lack of good criticism going around these days, but that just means that I'm more selective about which stories I read now.

>>89
After reading some of the arguments here, I am inclined to agree with the argument for this being a form of rape. It isn't violent by any means, but it consists of a sexual act that would not have occurred if not for Lance being deceived and manipulated, which upon discovery could be just as traumatic. However, like many others here I'm willing to see how this plays out from the author.

As for this whole comparison to Twilight, I would like to point to one very obvious point where the two differ:

Intention.

Twilight was written and published with the intent of being sold and making money. Not only is it marketing its mistaken ideal of love, but every book that someone buys means more money in Stephanie Mayer's pocket.

Dominique on the other hand, if I'm remembering correctly, started as an RP (feel free to correct me if I'm wrong). No, the characters aren't completely original so it would be incredibly difficult to make money off of it without the threat of being sued. However, the intention behind it is more to explore the potential of a fantastical creature in a pornographic setting.

So basically: Twilight is a money grab marketed towards people who should be ashamed of how they view love, where Dominique is more an experiment for the people who enjoy it.

tl;dr just another person's opinion... Keep writing Lithe-Fider!
>> No. 5035
This post has been deleted.
>> No. 5039
I suppose by textbook definition this is considered rape, given the whole identity thing, but its not as if Lance fought it. Granted the whole tentaspy thing generally is inclined to rape, this seems to be far from the grab-and-fuck tentaspy that appears more often. Either way I don't think this story needs another rewrite, I look forward to the next chapter.
>> No. 5040
Considering this is starting to cause debate, I'm now REALLY interested where Lithe is going to go when the big reveal happens.
I for one actually really like the inserted snippets of information, I find them interesting and it makes this Tentaspy seem more real to me.
I do agree about the random "drying out/totally cool don't need no water" bits, and when Domi was in the rafters I wondered why the old, dry wood wasn't affecting him. But meh, all I know is that I really enjoy this fic and it's one of the few here I get excited about when I see it get bumpoed.
>> No. 5043
sure is white knight in here
>> No. 5044
I also think 'rape' is too strong a word here. Both parties obviously enjoyed it. There was no pain. It's not like Dom paralyzed Lance, dragged him off to his cave where he had his wicked, violent, gory way with him and then left him with the terrible, life-ruining mental damage. Or ate him.

Yeah, Domi is lying about who he is, but I think he has a pretty good reason to. Let us remember that he is half-man, half-octopus. I think it'd be a bit difficult to tell that to someone you're very interested in. Is it right to lie? No. Does it make sense? Yes. Real people lie to potential mates too.

Besides, not all romances are straight and clean. A bit of lying, deception, stalking make it a little more dark and a little more exciting to read, and if this fic had none of that, I would have been disappointed. "Perfect" romances, while sometimes enjoyable, aren't always possible in every story, just like they aren't always possible irl. It would be silly and illogical.

tl;dr Rape is serious, but this isn't rape.

I am, though, enjoying this fic very much, and I'm eagerly awaiting new installations.
>> No. 5047
I have to STRONGLY disagree with 95 that "both parties obviously enjoyed it and there was no pain" = "no rape."

There was a case some time ago where a guy's twin brother tricked his twin's girlfriend into having sex with him. As the woman believed she was making love to her boyfriend, she enjoyed it and felt no pain. But when she found out that the guy was a different person, she felt HORRIFICALLY humiliated and violated and traumatized. The jury declared the guy innocent because it's ridiculous easy for rapists to get away with their crime, but it was most definitely rape.

HOWEVER, in this case, Domi didn't actually have sex with Lance, so it's much more ambiguous imo. I'd still expect Lance to be righteously pissed off when he finds out, and Domi should take full responsibility for his actions, but I'm not sure I'd call it rape. It's a grey area, imo, extremely unethical but not necessarily unforgivable.


Besides Domi and Lance, I'm finding RED Spy very interesting. He is technically an antagonist, but he is also innocent (he was attacked by a monster in his sleep, for Pete's sake, OF COURSE he is out for revenge! Plus, as far as he knows, the monster in question could be a danger to his teammates). I hope he doesn't die, and that he gets a happy ending with the RED Sniper.
>> No. 5048
I’m going to step in right now because I really love and very much thank for the crit I’m getting(!), and I appreciate also people responding basically with what I’d respond with (meaning I see how I meant my story top be gotten across IS getting across) Thank you. Also please sage if you are discussing, stop bumping the thread.

When it comes to grammar and flow, I basically just got to keep working on that best I can as I’m doing. I proof everything over at least three times before posting, but I'm not perfect...things do get missed (I apologize). Getting a beta reader would be a big help. (Any takers? Email is in the name slot. I hate asking for that kinda thing unless I know it’s a fic someone would be interested in at all to read).

To those worried about rape, that is the opposite of what I /want/ this fic to be. As stated well before, rape is serious, and it’s not something I know is easily discussed. Just because I have another TF2 couple that is dysfunctional and may be on a rape vein, does NOT mean this one is. Domi this whole time is doing everything in his power to NOT let his tentacles have their way with Lance (quite the opposite from most tentaspy fics). Also this can’t be “consentacles” until we get the “Tentacles” I think. (lol)

Yes, he is deceiving Lance, but Lance in all intents and purposes did consent to their sexual relations. The deceit is so Domi can have Lance get to know him, so in Domi’s hopes, when he has to tell him the truth, he won’t just be instant ‘IT’S A MONSTER SHOOT IT’. >>95 said it well.

You can be sure Lance WON’T be happy when shit goes down (and yes, shit will go down). I promise you it’s not going to be ‘A-ok’ that he did that to him. I think posts >>83 and >>84 sum up things I’d say quite well, on why things are going as they are and what is going through Domi’s head.

To explain a few of the technical points:

Domi is indeed highly aquatic, but he also has degrees of how long he can stay out of the water. Also note his tentacles can last a lot longer than his lungs, which he quite religiously keeps moist using his water flask. Him outside on a sunny day = less time before he gets uncomfortably dried out, while being inside at night would mean more time out of water. I apologize if it ever seems inconsistent; I try to keep it in these boundaries. Also >>93 you make a good point about the wood being dry, I’ll take that into consideration in the future.

When his gills were stabbed he indeed was highly hurt by it, and got so light headed he pretty much passed out. As stated in the fic, he clots / heals faster than a normal person; also he has access to medkits (that he steals). If I redid some of those parts I’d try and add some more detail to show more how it was a very bad injury.

Also I like to “infodump”, I’m a sci-fi-monster-anatomy fetishist and I fully admit to it. I will try to work that kind of thing in better, I’m sorry if it seemed like ‘dumping’. But basically if you don’t like to hear in-depth detail about “science fiction techno babble”, you’ll most likely dislike my fics involving half human creatures (who I do have outside of the TF2 verse).

TL/DR:

THANK YOU for the crit, I’ll take everything into consideration. This is a TF2 fic, it won’t be rainbows and bunnies. Spies are creepers and watch people. Lance WILL be pissed and Domi will have to man up to it. I like to sci-fi info babble. I could use a beta reader to make this better.

Next chapter will be coming soon, I had some great brainstorming discussions with Cat Boundary and I’m on a roll. Thanks all. :)
>> No. 5049
85/91 here. Last time commenting 4rlz

>>96 said it best.
>> No. 5052
I like the sci fi anatomy info.
>> No. 5055
Yes, he is deceiving Lance, but Lance in all intents and purposes did consent to their sexual relations. The deceit is so Domi can have Lance get to know him
I'm going to have to disagree here. Lance consented to sexual activity with RED Spy, not with Domi. I would also think that someone who genuinely cared about their love interest would get to know them in less... intimate... ways before skipping straight to sex. That's playing an extremely dangerous game with someone's emotions, and a considerate person wouldn't take an action with such an obviously huge chance of hurting their love interest.

No, it wasn't violent, but it wasn't consensual, and it was sleazy, deceitful, and selfish.
116 posts omitted. First 100 shown. [Return] [Entire Thread] [Last 50 posts] [First 100 posts]



- kusaba x 0.9 + Took 0.05s -
Copyright © 2007-2013 TF2chan. All rights reserved.
All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.