tagNonHumanAverage Grade Ch. 04

Average Grade Ch. 04


A/N: Sorry for being gone so long, leaving those of you who enjoy this story high and dry—or, in this case, wet/hard and wanting—but life got in the way. Just graduated college. Hopefully I'll be able to pump out some good stories for you all. Once again, I don't ever edit. Hope it doesn't distract from the massive amounts of tentacle porn.


Her eyes fluttered slightly as she came to. Cold and naked on the floor. Blearily, she blinked up at the ceiling. Had it really all happened? Had she really been fucked by a monster and then given birth to its children? Or had it all been some terrible, drug-induced nightmare?

A soft groan slipped past her lips as she shifted, muscles aching terribly. Her head lulled to the side, and when she spotted the eggs—cracked and opened—she knew that it hadn't been a dream. It had all been real. Every last moment of it.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and a broken sob bubbled up from within her. She felt so used. And she felt so utterly alone. Her heart wrenched, and she would have curled in on herself if she had the strength to do so. Instead, she lay there, splayed out like some sort of sacrifice, crying softly into the dark of the room.

It wasn't long before the beast noticed. It slithered over to her; she flinched away as a tentacle came up to brush across her cheek, and she cried harder. How could she have let this happen to her? How could this be happening? The tentacle hesitated for a moment, as if it was sensing her distress, and then caressed her cheek in an almost soothing manner. Her breath hitched in her chest as she tried to calm herself, but when she felt something sharp prick her side she let out a wail and thrashed, trying to get away even with her fatigued body.

Tentacles gripped her gently, rubbing over her skin as it tried to calm her. Tried to get rid of the aches and pains that her body was certainly feeling. The monster gurgled something at her, and she barely paused long enough to notice the effects of whatever it had injected her with. The pain was ebbing—slowly but surely, it was decreasing and leaving her to feel like new. As her body relaxed, tension easing from her mind as she stared at the beast that had taken her so thoroughly, it moved away from her slowly. Like she was some skittish colt that was about to bolt away, and it was doing its best trying not to frighten her off.

Just as she was about to open her mouth, to ask it what was going on, an odd cooing sound caught her attention. It was then that she saw one of its offspring moving closer. Air stuck in her throat as she realized, dear lord, this was hers. It was her offspring too. She'd carried it for however short a period. She'd birthed it.

It was hers.

And a strange ache presented itself within her when that epiphany came. Some might've called it maternal.

The mini-monster cooed again, and another one made a similar noise right behind it. Her light eyes flickered around the room, taking in all of them. There were so many. She couldn't count them all, and they were all hers. Her... children. It was just after this that she realized that the ache within her wasn't just emotional—her breasts were huge. They'd swollen up, probably three or four times their original size. Her nipples were red and engorged, milk leaking out and down the sides of her tits.

As the mini-monsters moved closer, she felt the urge to get up. To run. She knew that she could do it, too. With the shot of whatever-it-was that she'd been given by the beast, she knew that she could make it to the door and escape. But something stayed her. Something made her freeze, shaking terribly, as a small tentacle wrapped gentle around her breast.

Her delicate hands curled into tight balls as the tentacle tightened very slightly, and milk came dribbling out of her like a slow moving fountain. The sensation nearly made her moan, but she bit it back as something warm, wet, and sucking landed on her nipple. Her head fell back, and her hand flew up to her mouth to muffle the wanton sound that tried to leave her. It wasn't long before her other breast was occupied by a hungry baby too.

Whimpering helplessly behind her fingers, her eyes squeezed shut at the sensation. This wasn't normal. She wasn't supposed to feel pleasure from her own children suckling at her breasts. Certainly not the kind that made her cunt clench around nothing, making her rock her hips in need. Her eyes opened almost comically wide as a tentacle touched the hand at her mouth, wrapping delicately around her wrist to tug it away.

One baby released her tit and another latched on. Her back arched, and she cried out. The large one, the father, hovered close and purred at the sound—it decided to keep her hand away from her mouth, wanting to hear what noises she would make. Squirming, her breath hitched in her throat as another left her breast, only to be replaced by one of the shuffling children. Panting and letting out faint whimpers, she hesitantly reached over, stroking one with timid fingers. It cooed and sucked harder, coaxing a ragged moan from her throat.

The father seemed to hum with delight, shifting around her, growing more excited. She realized, to her horror, that she wanted it to fuck her again. That she wanted it to fuck her while their babies suckled at her aching tits until she was absolutely mindless with it.

As if sensing her thoughts and her desires, it moved between her legs obligingly. She wondered if, somehow, it had made some sort of link to her—emotionally, mentally, whatever—after it realized that she could have its children for it. The tentacle swiped at her wet pussy, and she jerked.

"Please," she breathed, voice coarse and well-used—just like the rest of her. Another baby released her, quickly replaced by another; it was a cycle she was quickly becoming used to, and even enjoying as the painful engorgement of them settled to a nice, aching swell. "Please, fuck me. I want—I need—"

The tentacle slid into her pussy in one sure stroke. It was nothing compared to the poundings she'd taken previously. Not nearly as large or swift, but it was only getting started. Once that appendage had gotten nice a wet, it slipped from her and then nudged lower. Almost questioningly. Realizing this, she reluctantly canted her hips up for it, feet planted firmly on the ground. It made another cooing sound, proud and happy, as the tentacle wrapped around her wrist gave an assuring squeeze.

Wriggling its way into her ass, it started an idle pace, fucking her slowly as their children sucked on her nipples. Letting out a faint whine, her pussy clenched around nothing again, even as she rocked back against the one slipping in and out of her ass. When thrust a bit deeper, a bit faster, she realized it was rewarding her again—this time for the sounds she was making.

"Oh, fuck me, yes." She mewled, and the suction increased on her tits until her back was bowing prettily, and she was fully clutching their children to her—feeding them as their father worked her into a fervor.

It fucked a bit harder, a bit faster; she whimpered and keened. It wasn't enough.

"Please," she whispered, and the second the soft plea was over her lips, there were more tentacles.

They moved like a dance, almost like a taunt, but this beast enjoyed her body far too much to tease for long. Just like the first, a long and thick tentacle swept into her sopping cunt and stroked in and out slow while the one still in her ass plundered at a rougher pace. Then it slid out, slid down, and fucked in, stretching her tight little ass around two thick tentacles and fucking back and forth so that she was never quite empty.

Shuddering and squirming, Jennifer tossed her head back and panted heavily, her hot, wet pussy twitching and aching with such teasing ministrations. There was a slick obscene sound coming from between her legs as the beast fucked her ass with its smaller tentacles and as their children took turns suckling at her red, swollen nipples.

Before she knew it, she was spiraling over the edge, cumming with a sweet gush of juices as she arched up and clutched one of the small, squirming monsters to her right breast while the other was still trapped back a firm hold. Their children made more of those gurgling coos, delighted at the fresh smell of sex and the sudden rush of milk that fed their quickly growing bodies. The beast himself seemed more than pleased, rumbling out a low sound and easing much closer now that she was no longer scared—too busy lost in the throes of passion.

It kept fucking her ass, just like that, her body quaking for it as their offspring nursed on her tender nipples until she had no more to give. Eventually, despite the ache in her cunt, she found a sort of peace in the harsh rhythm of the monster filling her ass with the smaller—though, by no means did that mean small—tentacles, now thrusting them in at the same time as she moaned for him.

And then, just as everything started, it came to a sudden and grinding halt.

The monster went still, as if sensing something threatening, tentacle still wrapped carefully around her wrist and cocks still buried in her ass as it seemed to squeeze into itself—rising slightly from the small three-foot-high mass of dark and whipping frenzy into something just a bit taller and more menacing. For a moment, Jennifer didn't even notice.

But then the small monsters all squirmed away, moving as quickly as their tiny bodies could in order to hide themselves within their father's mass. Jennifer's head lulled over just as the basement door slammed open.

"Oh, my." Her professor stood in the doorway, an air of casualness with his khaki pants and polo shirt, salt and pepper hair combed back.

He looked like he'd gotten some sun during the long weekend.

Jennifer couldn't believe it had been three days already.

Her professor grinned. "Oh, look at you, Ms. Roth. You look positively sinful."

The monster's tentacle grip at her wrist seemed to grow a little tighter.

"And look at what a success we've had!" He gestured to the remaining egg shells. "Finally, I have some more creatures to run my experiments on."

"Ex—experiments?" Jennifer croaked, something unfamiliar and cold settling low in her stomach. "You're going to—You're gonna experiment on them?"

"Of course!" The professor walked in, the door hanging open, and Jennifer eyed it for a long moment as he paced closer. "Why else would I need it to breed? I needed more subjects, Ms. Roth."

"You—" Jennifer's throat clenched up; she felt suddenly sick. "You're a bastard."

She was so torn. Between wanting to hate him and between wanting to be afraid of the monster and the beasts she'd help give life to. But the idea of these things—her children, something in her ached to remind her—being experimented on made her feel ill.

"Yes, well, it's all in the name of science." He sighed, moving close and crouching down next to her.

She could feel the tension in the beast—in the way its tentacle wrapped so tight around her wrist that it nearly hurt and in the way it shrank in on itself and wrapped its free appendages around their young and in the way the tentacles still buried in her ass seemed to tremble. But there was something else. Perhaps that link she suspected of it. Something between them that bound them someway. Something that made both of their distress echo back and forth.

"I see that it used its chemicals on you," his gaze slid down over her prone body, lascivious and wanting in a way that made her feel more dirty than being claimed by a monster ever did. "Makes you just like new, even after all I'm sure that you've been through. Doesn't offer that consideration often, so it must like you."

Instead of offering a response, Jennifer reared back and spit right in his face.

Flinching, he reached up and wiped the spittle off of his cheek with a sneer. The movement was slow. Deliberate.

The next one was less so.

His hand across her face knocked her head back against the hard floor. It made her vision swim and her ears ring, but then she was no longer being touched—not by him and not by the monster he'd unleashed upon her.

When she finally blinked past the deliriousness that the harsh smack, her left cheek was throbbing and the monster had sprung forward and out—tangling the professor up in its mass of tentacles. It had his legs and his arms and his waist all wrapped up, but the most telling one was the appendage it had wrapped tight around the professor's neck.

In the mass, for the first time, she seemed to something humanoid hiding in the writhing mess. Eyes. Big, wide silver eyes staring right at her.

Anger—protective, righteous, furious anger—filled her chest. She knew instantly that it was not hers.

Eyes wide and heart pounding, Jennifer squirmed to sit herself upright. She crawled back on her hands, bare ass scraping the cool floor, and she watched with wide eyes as the professor struggled in vein against the demanding grip that the beast had upon him.

He seemed to look at her, begging with big eyes, but she caught wind of something furious and unyielding in the way the beast grumbled and hissed. Honestly, she couldn't help but agree.

Even still, she was scared—more scared than she had been before—because she was watching the thing that had fucked her, filled her, claimed her and impregnated her choke the life out of her professor. Scrambling to her feet, she darted for the still open basement door.

She ran for the stares on clumsy, wobbling legs, and did not look back. She didn't look back when she heard glass shatter, or when she heard a plea for help, or even when she heard a massive roar come from within the depths. She kept running until she got to the top of the stairs and unlatched the door—shutting and locking it behind her.

She just knew that she had to get out of there. That she needed to leave unless she wanted to get caught up in something far worse than some strange, forced bestiality.

So she gathered her things from the spare room she'd dropped them in on the Friday before, shoved herself into some clothes despite the tender ache of her breasts and the trembling of her fingers and the aching emptiness she wasn't sure would ever go away despite the fact that she looked and felt completely normal otherwise—

And she fled.


Life after that weekend was... difficult.

Jennifer fled back to her apartment—the one her parents had bought for her not long after she'd been accepted into school—and she tried to get back to how things were supposed to be. She texted her friends, she called her mom, and she didn't mention anything about how her weekend went or where the bruise on her cheek came from.

She didn't pay attention to the news report two days later about the professor's place burning down or the ones about how he was presumed dead in the fire. She didn't pay attention to sorrow that had struck her—harsh and painful—at the thought of what else might've perished in those flames.

She didn't pay attention to the resounding ache that had taken place somewhere inside of her. Or the fact that she was still producing milk. Or the fact that she kept having dreams—nightmares, she would tell herself—about the creature finding her in the middle of the night and stealing her away to be fucked and filled again.

She didn't pay attention to any of it.

Not until one day when she came home to find a very naked, very large man writhing around on her bed and smelling her sheets. She'd shrieked and pelted a book his way, freezing in the doorway between her bedroom and the foyer only when he peeked up through dark hair to peer over at her with large, silver eyes.

Then, she couldn't not pay attention to it.

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