I don't know who wrote this either, but here y'all go. ---------------------------------------------------------------- You look down the dark pipe, slimy water trickling out the bottom. You have heard stories whispered around the base of a terrible monster that lives in the sewers: something that might seem human, but isn't; a hideous, tentacled beast that would tear you apart, eat you, and build elaborate structures from your bones. Scout usually constructed the most entertaining—and unbelievable—stories, which he often shared loudly until Medic scolded him. Is there really such a creature? You peer into the darkness, straining to see to the end. It looks like, several yards down, the pipe turns, and it is impossible to see any further. The only way to know where the pipe goes and what lies beyond that bend is to actually go inside. After some internal deliberation, you suck in your breath, stoop over, and clamber down the pipe. You stoop-walk all the way to the bend, more wary of smacking your head on the low ceiling than any horrible monsters. When you finally round the corner, you see another long stretch of pipe, though it seems to be a bit wider and have higher ceilings. It's also quite a bit darker and, as you can tell when you take a falling splash-step into knee-deep sewage, quite a bit deeper. Realizing how loud your entrance was, you pause and listen for a moment. Nothing. You hear only the sound of flowing sewage and water dripping from the ceiling. You frown, beginning to think this was a waste of time and energy, and turn to go, but hear a faint sound like a man's voice, chuckling in the distance. You freeze, then slowly turn back to face the larger area of the pipe. Very little light from the outside reaches around the corner, and it is impossible to make out much of anything. You stare so hard, the dark air almost seems to be solid. You hold your breath to try to hear better, but your blood is pounding too loudly in your ears. Finally, after a few more moments of nothing, you relax and exhale. It must have been your imagination. Before you begin to move again, you hear another faint sound. Again, it sounds like a man's voice, but you also hear faint sloshing sounds, like someone else moving through the water. You focus hard on the faint sounds until a drop of water hits the top of your head and startles you. You jump and gasp involuntarily, which elicits a tinny laugh from farther down the pipe. Wait a minute, that sounded like Spy. "Spy, is that you?" No answer. Well, no direct answer. You hear the laughing again and more sloshing. It doesn't even sound like walking. What the hell is Spy doing? You make your way about halfway down the tunnel toward where you think Spy is before the little bit of fading daylight runs out. You realize you can't keep walking blind, so you fumble for the wall. Just as you find it, you see a faint, red ember flicker to life further down the tunnel. There's Spy's tall, lean figure taking a drag on a cigarette. He lets his arm drop and you see the red glow reflecting off multiple, curved surfaces—surfaces that appear to originate from Spy. You try to figure out what those strange shapes could possibly be, but fail to come up with a logical explanation. "What are you doing down here?" you ask as you move closer. "Watching you flail about and enjoying a cigarette." He takes a deep drag, eyes closed, holding the cigarette lightly with two spindly fingers. He lets out the smoke slowly, as if he is indeed savoring the moment. He opens his eyes and seems to be surveying you. "To what do I owe ze pleasure of your company?" "I wanted to see if that octopus-monster everyone's been talking about was real." "Ah. If such a creature did exist, zen what?" "I dunno, I didn't really think it through. I suppose I'd be part of some kind of bone sculpture by now." Spy laughs heartily. The light from his cigarette gleams on those strange objects again. "But I guess it's nothing to worry about," you continue. "I haven't come across even a single tenta—" and then it dawns on you. Your blood runs cold. "Tentacle?" he finishes for you, and out of the water, mere inches from your face, rises a slender appendage. The edge of each sucker glows with a faintly blue bioluminescence. You would scream, but it presses against your lips. "Please don't do zat, petite. I just finished my smoke. I don't need a headache right now." He tosses the cigarette into the sewer water, and the red light is extinguished. You are plunged into darkness. There is a great amount of turbulence, and several tentacles emerge, covered on one side with the glowing rings of suckers. They curl and unfurl in midair, sending droplets of water flying. The tentacle against your mouth moves away to join the others. You can't help but think, despite your terror, that it's actually kind of pretty. The creature glides toward you. "Are— Are you going to eat me?" you ask. He laughs again. "Non." "Well, uh, w-what are you going to do?" He moves back a little and rubs his chin, considering his answer. The blue glow from his tentacles fluctuates, giving the filthy pipe almost an ethereal quality. "Well, petite, you did come here of your own accord, and I consider myself a gentleman, so if you do not wish to stay, you may leave." "Just like that?" "Just like zat. Alzough..." He approaches you again. "It is very lonely down here. I would very much appreciate your company, if you do not mind." You know you shouldn't trust him, but he could have torn you apart, eaten you, and artfully arranged your bones about a hundred times by now, so you figure he's probably being at least a little bit sincere. It is a pretty lonely place, and now that you are at some level of ease, your curiosity is piqued once again. "I-I mean, I guess I could stay here a little longer... Um...how did you get to be...like this?" A few of his tentacles curl up. "I was a normal person once. I don't fully remember what happened, but I do know it hurt tremendously. It felt like all ze bones in my legs were forced out zrough my skin. I was aware of nossing but ze pain for ze longest time, and I lashed out at whatever came near. And finally, when ze pain had dulled, I realized I was here, in ze sewer, like zis. People feared me, and I had nowhere else to go, so I stayed here, in ze water, in ze dark." "Oh, I'm sorry, that sounds awful..." A melancholy smile briefly ghosts across his face. "Ah, it was, but it is worse still," he sighs as he plays with the end of a tentacle in one hand. "You see, as I was...changing, my senses became heightened. First my vision and hearing, then my sense of smell and touch." "Why is that bad? I would think that's pretty cool, to be able to sense everything around you better than before." "At first it was frightening, being able to see other creatures by zheir heat signatures, being able to hear every minuscule echo of each of zose creatures' movements, smelling no longer just filth, but every chemical compound present in ze filth, and being able to feel all of it at a maddeningly high resolution zhrough tens of new limbs." "Whoa, you can see infrared?" He sighs and cracks another brief smile. "Yes, I can see infrared," he answers before his expression grows concerned. "Ahh, but you cannot. I am being quite rude, aren't I, having you just stand zere in ze dark." He holds out a gloved hand, just barely visible to you in the low, but workable light. "Would you like to see somesing interesting?" You hesitate, remembering suddenly that you are in a sewer talking to a dangerous creature. "Um..." He smiles, sensing your apprehension. "I promise it is nossing to be afraid of." You take his hand. It's cool and a little damp, but not slimy like you were expecting. He must try to keep his upper half clean, despite the apparent impossibility of such an endeavor. He starts leading you down a long, dark pipe with a few bends in it. "Petite, about my senses..." he says after a few moments, as you turn into another fork. "Have you ever heard of a mesod of torture known as sensory deprivation?" "I think so, yeah. That's where they blindfold you and make you wear earplugs so you go insane from not sensing anything, right?" "Precisely. And zat is what I experience on a daily basis." "But I thought you can sense everything extra well?" "Once I became accustomed to my new abilities, I quickly realized how few stimuli zere were in a dark sewer. No visible light, barely any sound, always ze same filthy smells, and nothing of interest to touch. Just concrete and sludge." "I can see how that could be torture..." you say quietly. There is an awkward silence. In the faint blue light, you can make out the beginnings of stalactites forming on the pipe's ceiling. You begin to go up another pipe at a slight incline; immediately you notice a reduction in filth. "Where are we going?" "A favorite spot of mine," he replies as you enter a very large room with uneven ceilings and floors. The smell is gone now, with the exception of some residual filth on your clothes. You see a large, pristine pool with a gentle current, fed by an underground stream. You realize now that you are in a natural cave. You also notice long, narrow cracks in the ceiling; they permit a few slivers of bluish light from the now dusky sky outside. You let go of the creature's hand and walk forward in a state of awe. "Oh, it's beautiful..." "Isn't it?" he agrees. You look down from the ceiling and see he is in the process of climbing over the dry rocks toward the pool. With him out of the water, all of his tentacles are visible. There are so many, more than fifty, maybe even a hundred, all slick and black. They wend their way around stalagmites, pulling against the stone. The tips are as thin as a pencil, gradually increasing in thickness until they disappear under his suit jacket. They powerfully carry his human body through the air, as if he were riding in a palanquin. You cannot help but stare. "I am lucky zis cave and stream exist. Here I have one place where I can escape ze sewage." He grips two rocks at the edge of the pool with his hands and then eases himself into the water, dropping in his tentacles gradually. He lets out a satisfied sigh as he settles on the floor in the crystal clear water. The pool is fairly shallow there, though you imagine it gets significantly deeper in the darker part toward the center. He gestures to the pool, as if offering it to you. "After all your splashing about earlier, I am sure clean water will be a welcome change." You have to agree. You were just noting the disgusting squish in your shoes as you stepped into the room. After surveying the coast briefly, you walk toward one spot near the edge of the pool that is mostly flat, a few feet down from where your host seems to be joyfully swirling his tentacles around in the clean water. You sit and remove the offending boots and peel off your disgusting socks, which are probably permanently stained a greenish-brown. You stick your feet in the water, which is wonderfully cool. Small clouds of dirt come off your skin and eddy away with the current. You scoop up a little water in your hand and attempt to clean off the rest of your legs a little bit. "Do you mind if I take a quick swim?" You look up toward the creature, a little confused by his question. "Um, go right ahead." He pulls off his gloves and sets them on the rock. He then takes off his coat, folds it up carefully, and lays it beside the neatly stacked gloves. You suddenly realize why he asked your permission. You try to busy yourself with wiping the sludge off your skin, but can't help but steal glances as he removes each layer of clothing from his top half, excluding his mask, which he leaves on. You suppose old habits die hard—you know your team's Spy would never let you see his face, and guess this former Spy is no different. The creature then glides away from you, toward the center of the pool, the water level slowly rising against his body. He is very well toned, a fact that is even more pronounced as he lifts his arms up over his head, stretching his muscles. His skin is extremely pale, not having seen the light of day for who knows how long. About halfway down the deep groove of his spine, his skin becomes a slightly darker color, which gradually deepens to grey farther down, and then it melds to black at the start of his tentacles. Your furtive scanning of his bare body is interrupted as he heaves himself forward and arcs into the water, not making a single sound as he breaks the surface. You stand up on the shore in time to see his tentacles spread out like a purple flower from an alien planet, covered in dots of pale blue light, and then snap closed. There is no longer any sign of him in the shadowy water. The cave around you is serene and quiet. The moon must have risen, as white light now shines through the cracks in the roof. You can see the beams of light through the haze in the air. You wonder where the other side of those cracks are in the ground. You try to think of the surrounding area of the base, but you have never seen them, or any likely place they could be hidden. To get your bearings, you try to think of how you moved through the sewers... you entered the pipe and turned the bend, which would put you directly under the edge of the base. Then you were led right, then left, then... you try to remember the twisting path through the darkness, the various forks you were guided through, but the directions become muddled, and you are unsure of exactly how you got here. You realize with a twinge of panic you'd have no way of leaving through the maze of the sewer by yourself. You look out over the now completely still water, seeing no sign of the creature within its depths. You wonder how long he could stay underwater, leaving you to stand there by yourself. Several minutes have passed already. Your panic rises the longer he stays submerged, your mind wandering to increasingly lurid places. How are you getting out of here? Where is the Spy-creature? Why isn't he coming back up? Where are your teammates? Had they even bothered to look for you? Even if they had, would they ever be able to find you? Oh god, what if you're stuck down here? There's no way out that has any light... You sink to your knees, eyes wide, thoughts cycling, when finally the creature slowly emerges from the water right in front of you. A wave of relief washes over you, intensified by him touching your cheek gently with his fingertip, as if to verify his physicality. "Petite, what is ze matter...?" he whispers as he traces your jawline. "I...it's nothing." He's staring into your eyes, mere centimeters from your face. His irises are a stunning blue, almost as bright as his bioluminescence. You forget what you were panicking about, glad not to be alone, to be with him, strange as he is. He traces a path over the top of your ear, entwining his fingers in your hair as he rises partway out of the water and leans in to kiss you. You close your eyes and let him draw you into his arms; he's warm, a lot warmer than you were expecting. Sensing you relax, he gets a little bolder and licks your lower lip. You return the gesture and he slips his tongue into your mouth, stroking the inside with the tip. Working deftly, he traces seemingly impossible curves around your tongue. He tastes like tobacco smoke and salt, reminding you vaguely of the ocean. Hands begin to wander as you press your lips more forcefully against his. You feel his jaw slacken as you slide your tongue into his mouth. You realize why when you feel the tips of his sharp, pointed teeth. Carefully avoiding them, you explore his mouth, tasting more of the smoke and salt from before. He lets out a soft, deep moan as you run your hand up his still-wet, bare chest. In response, he runs his fingers up your spine, eliciting a similar reaction from you. You break off for air and gasp as you feel a cool, slender appendage snaking up your back. It unhooks your bra as others go to join it, following the curves of your upper back. They ripple over your shoulder blades and up your spine, sending electricity throughout your body. They gently exert an increasing amount of force, both massaging the tension from your muscles and pushing you closer to the creature for another kiss. You feel his hands move to your shirt to unbutton it. He undoes the buttons slowly, as if he is relishing doing such a human movement with his hands. As soon as your shirt is hanging open, more tentacles reach up to slide the shirt off your shoulders and remove your bra. He wraps his arm around your waist and leans you back, so that you're lying on the rock you were kneeling on before. He slides his hand up your abdomen in a straight line before it detours to trace the border under your breast, the side of his hand just barely touching the underside. Cool, wet tentacles slither up your sides to replace the warm touch of his hand. The tips of each appendage move around the undersides of your breasts and up your sternum, squeezing gently as they curl symmetrically around them. Your nipples begin to perk up as thicker parts coil around your breasts, exerting slightly more force. You gasp as a sucker settles on each of your nipples and begins to work at them in a cycling motion. The creature now moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, licking, sucking, as he drifts down to your collarbones. Your moans and gasps are louder and more frequent now, the sensory overload of tentacles exploring your upper body, suckers rhythmically massaging your nipples, and his warm mouth on your shoulder eroding your coherency. He moves his hands now to the top of your pants, again undoing the button slowly, extending the movement to opening the zipper. He pushes the top of your pants down just a little so that he can put his hands on your mostly bare hips. He runs his thumbs over the symmetrical edges of your hipbone, causing you to shudder, as more tentacles finish the task of removing your pants. "Would you swim with me, chérie?" he whispers against your neck. You nod. He slowly slides your underwear off you before taking you into the water. The water cools your skin and washes off the remaining sweat and dirt from your journey here. Now up to your neck in cold water, the drastic change in temperature around your lower body makes you painfully aware of the growing heat between your legs. You feel more tentacles wrap around your waist, exploring more of your lower surface anatomy. The creature's hands travel downwards now, with one coming to rest in the small of your back, the other briefly coming to rest on your ass. After a quick squeeze, he moves his hand over your hip and downward again to your inner thigh. Using his thumb, he begins to rub your thigh in a repeating, arcing motion, in time to the tentacles still massaging your back and breasts and those beginning to curl over your shoulders to massage there. In response to your higher noise level, the creature sends more tentacles up your legs, coiling around your feet and spiraling upward to your thighs so they can continue the motion he was doing with his thumb. With his hands once again free to roam and your legs in his full control, he reaches down between them to rub your clitoris. You gasp so loudly it echoes within the cave. He grins at your response and rubs harder, eliciting more loud gasps and moans that start to run together into echoing cries of pleasure. Suddenly, he pauses for a moment. You take the opportunity to catch your breath, but wonder why he stopped. You stop wondering as he slides a finger into you, eliciting the loudest cry you've uttered yet. You involuntarily spread your legs, wanting to feel more of him inside you, his tentacles more than happy to accommodate that. After getting a sufficient rise out of you, he slowly withdraws the finger. He now slides two fingers into you, stroking and stretching you as another one of your cries echoes in the cave. This time when he removes them, he rests his hand on your lower back and puts a tentacle to the task of rubbing you. Another cool, thin appendage wriggles its way into your entrance. It settles deep inside you before starting to move cyclically, as another tendril goes to join it. Delighting in your reactions, he experiments with the two tentacles inside you, moving them in different ways: helical winding motions, sinusoidal rippling, and drawing circles with the tips. Each pattern of movement elicits a different corresponding pattern of sounds and movements from you. You press your body against him, clawing at his back, wanting more of him. Sensing this, he slips a third into you, amplifying the patterned movement to the point that it pushes you over the edge. Your vision goes black as you scream into his neck, writhing in pleasure. As you return to reality, you realize the creature's tentacles are still all over you, the three from before are still synchronized, and they are all still moving, though slower now so that you can catch your breath. He's stopped rubbing you for the time being, but he doesn't wait for you very long before he starts wrapping more tentacles around your body. More thread up your arms and over your shoulders in tight helices, leaving only your hands uncovered. He seems to enjoy the complex movement of your forearm muscles rippling as your fingers curl against his back. He's finally starting to get worked up, sighing against your hair. You feel a single tendril slowly glide up your midline, under all the other tentacles, up your neck and over your chin. The tip crosses the threshold of your parted lips and slowly makes its way into your mouth. Your tongue can't help but explore the concavity of each sucker, tasting cave water as you take it into your mouth and start to suck on it, eliciting a low moan from the creature and a tightening of coils around your body. As the appendage starts to go down your throat, carefully avoiding setting off your gag-reflex, you run the tip of your tongue up the soft, slippery strip of rubbery flesh between two columns of suckers. The creature gasps, his human half shuddering. You moan against the tentacle in your mouth as he responds to your tongue-strokes, the suckers sucking on various points on all surfaces of your tongue, the back rippling against the roof of your mouth. After some time, you start to get a little light-headed, which becomes evident to the creature as your tongue-strokes slow. He removes the tentacle from your throat, tracing the grooves on the roof of your mouth with the tip as he withdraws it. He returns to rubbing you as more tendrils slide over your ribs, feeling the gaps between them change with your quick, deep breaths. The movement of the three tentacles inside you reaches its previous level, and the creature continues his experimentation, now less methodical with his growing arousal. A fourth and fifth tentacle wriggle into you, the creature now beginning to add to the noise within the cave. As his moans intensify, so do the movements of his appendages. They do some of the same patterned motions from before, but now the creature begins to slide individual tentacles almost all the way out of you before thrusting them back in. The creature's moans follow the pattern of the first few slow thrusts, but soon there is no correlation between the timing of sound and movement as the tentacles dart in and out of you. There seems to be a complicated pattern to the cyclical, piston-like thrusting motions, but you can't keep track as the pace and intensity send you flying over the edge again. You throw your head back and scream, sparks clouding your vision. You crash into his body once again as you come down from the high with loud gasps, muffled with half your face against his chest, as ever more tentacles, somewhat frantic now, press against you. They tangle around your ankles and feet, suckers on your toes. The creature pushes two more tentacles into the writhing, thrusting mass within you. New ones slide around your butt cheeks, the tip of one sneaking inside, causing you to change pitch and clutch your hands even harder against him. The ones on your back hold you against him with great force, the ones around your breasts squeeze hard enough to bruise, and the ones inside you writhe without any sort of pattern now. His hand moves to your face, spread out against your cheekbone and jaw. He holds you firmly against him as he groans ever more gutturally into your hair, and you continue to cry out, lips catching on his skin, as the tentacles explore inside you. There is not one part of you not in contact with him. The creature is almost as loud as you now, clearly reveling in your every movement, the feeling of your skin against his tentacles, the warmth and tightness of you around him. You feel yourself getting close again as each of the tentacles thrusts, writhes, and coils within and around you, stimulating you in ways and places that no man could ever hope to achieve. You want it to continue forever—this is the best you've ever felt in your life—but your vision blanks to stars again as you feel yourself powerfully contracting around the writhing tentacles, both screams of absolute ecstasy echoing throughout the cave. As you both come down from the high of the best orgasm you've ever had, you feel the tentacles removed from you slowly. The creature carries you in his arms and lays you down on your back in the shallowest point in the pool, with just a few inches of water around you. Here it is more shadowy, but the moonlight glistens on the edges of his form, and you can still make out the parts of his face not covered by his mask. He curls up beside you, a few tendrils lightly coming to rest on top of your arms. His hand reaches toward you, and he brushes a stray hair out of your eyes. "Would you be willing to come visit me again, chérie?" he asks softly. "Absolutely." He smiles, his finger now caressing your cheek. You watch how the moonlight lands on his body, cascading over his muscles before falling smoothly over his tentacles. You would be content to lay here forever. "But I don't want to leave yet." "I don't want you to go eisser," he says, nuzzling into your neck. You sigh and close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beside you. You focus on the regular sound as he inhales and exhales below your ear, and gradually your awareness fades away.