Poison Ivy

Her movements became faster, then she directed the tentacle at his face.

"Open wide, sugar."

He opened his mouth to object, and received a faceful of a light, almost gassy, strong smelling liquid. Her moans filled the room, and it finally hit home that that was her coming. Her tentacle had just come in his mouth.

His teeth were burning. So was his whole mouth, his lips, his tongue. And now his throat - something that had felt like it had been swallowed was setting his throat on fire. Heartburn, he thought wildly, but threw the suggestion aside in his mind as it bypassed his heart and continued down through his groin and into his thighs.

This was all because of her. He didn't want to look at her, she was an animal, yet she was still so beautiful to him. Was he jealous? He moaned through gritted teeth. No. he didn't need those human emotions anymore.

The pain in his mouth had started to dull - it was almost like coming down from a high, he thought - less obvious, but it was still there. Soothing, it crossed his head and took over his mind. It changed from a burning passion to a secret desire to release himself, to spread himself over the sofa, the TV, and the rest of the room. The floor seemed to shrink as he stood, hunched over still as the pain developed in his midriff. He tried to stretch his back out - but something was still tight back there.

The feeling continued down towards his cock, which emerged fuller than before, and now with a bigger, mushroom like head. He growled, and felt the muscles in him vibrate. Now it was in his spine, crunching noises filled the room, sick, twisting and cracking along with the pain that engulfed him. He could feel the vertebrae shatter and reform one by one. Inch by inch the feeling moved away from his centre, he could feel it, as though something was growing out of his back like a tail.

She watched him as he stood, and cricked his neck, the purple slowly making it's way down his upper body, inky swirls that stirred the colour into his flesh. He faces her, his pointed teeth emerged from thin lips twisted up into a sneer.

His pubic hair was long and shaggy, but it barely disguised his need to her. His finer chest hair was softer looking, you could see his nipples through the sheer covering. His pectorals were bisected beautifully by a thin river of fur, leading down towards where his large black cock was trying to hide. His head hair was long and inky. He moved gingerly over to her, his long spear of a tail and his muscles still twitching.

Liquid stretched over his wide eyes in thick, gooey ropes, a vivid, acidic green that snapped as it fell from his upper lids. He scraped it away with the back of his hairy hand, and blinked in the light, focussing on her with an intent stare.

This is what she wanted. Finally, he was going to have her.

She arched her back, inviting him to have his way with her. A shiver ran through her bones, and that ache was back. He was approaching, his eyes mean and his cock thick. His arms were bigger than she'd seen before and the muscles rippled as he moved his limbs. On top of her, bearing down upon her, she moaned, blowing air onto his face. Begging.

He threw her aside. Bitch.

The feeling finished in his chest. Thee ends of his fingers and his toes felt fragile, not yet fully formed. He held up a hand, and examined his nails, thick, black and pointed. Dropping his arm, he saw her, stunned, laid out before him like a rug.

Their eyes locked, and something in him sung - he threw his hands up into the air and roared, his head thrown back, his now long hair flashing behind him. He needed her. He had to have her. The feeling tore up his chest. His shoulders came down to the floor, his body on all fours, and he looked at her, and understood. All of him was aching for his release. He was tense all over, his cock...he was rock hard, so hard it was uncomfortable. Every time his muscles pulsed, it seemed to be more painful. His thighs were quivering under him. He doubted they would hold his weight for much longer, but that didn't matter now.

She had her back against the floor, breathing hard from grappling with him. He prowled up to her, placing her wrists in his grasp, and positioning himself between her legs. She let him. It was what she wanted, after all. A low growl emanated from his chest.

He kissed her. Their faces met, his hard and hers soft, lips giving way to tongues and searching movements, caresses. A flick of his tongue, and she melted, relaxed down to the floor. He pressed down on top of her, and bit down into her neck, pulling the iridescent flesh away from her body, then letting it ease out of his teeth. Moans emerged, her frustration voiced at her hands being held like a prisoner.

Increasingly aware of something wrapping around his upper arms, a gentle caress, he drew upwards from her, head turning to the side. Tentacles-he hadn't thought about them. They stroked his shoulders, his muscles responding, softening his resolve. He bit hard into her bottom lip.

No.

She was his.

He grabbed one of the tentacles and placed it along with her wrists in his bear like hands, above her head. The other one, well he was allowed a little fun too, wasn't he? He grinned as it found his place on his shaft, easing up and down, putting pressure just under his head. He leaned back into her warm aura, devouring her mouth with his teeth, drawing blood unnecessarily. She gasped in pain - but he knew that this is what they both enjoyed.

All that mattered was that she submitted to him. She was his property, his to keep, tease and teach. Forever.

He picked her up in his grasp, her tentacle still wrapped around his cock, slowly moving from his shaft to base and back again. Still mid kiss, he caught up the rope and looped it around one wrist. He deposited her on the sofa, keeping her down with his bodyweight. Slowly, she came to realise what he was doing to her, and began to protest, she kicked and moaned, wanting her freedom. Spread open for him, he ran the rope under the sofa and tied it to her ankle. He repeated the action on her right side. Would it hold? He caught up the knickers that were laid abandoned across the room and forced them into her protesting mouth.

He stood back to catch his breath. She was now tied to the sofa, good and proper. Just the way he liked her. She fought it, her limbs straining against their bonds. He trusted his knots, she wasn't going anywhere.

"Shut your face, sweetie. Daddy's going to have his way with you now."

He knelt and took the tentacles in his hands. They waved at him, serpentine between his fingers. This was the right thing. He paused, how was he meant to do this? Was any head really good head? He sighed, and put the tip of one into his mouth.

Instantly it swelled as his tongue massaged it, circling the top with his lips, trying to keep his teeth out of the way. It itched towards the back of his throat, and he gripped it tightly in his hand to prevent it from doing so. There was a muffled moan from above him, she clearly liked it. He tried to reciprocate the feelings he received when she was giving him head, and her body relaxed onto the sofa, shiny skin twitching.

He tried to give a hand job to the other one at the same time, tried to synchronise the movement of his hands and tongue. Gasping. Her breathing became faster, heavier. She was still pulling on her bindings, wanting her release.

She was so close, so close. Just a little more, that's all she wanted. How could she be so close to falling off the edge and yet still not be coming?

He bit down into her flesh.

She came, ripples tearing through her flesh, his cock huge inside of her, throbbing and stiff. She engulfed it with her cunt, grasping and releasing it as she yelled. Incoherent noises came from her mouth, her eyes open to the whirl of colours she was seeing. A blur of orange from the sofa, chocolate from his hair. Her breath catching, she tried to inhale deeply, needing more oxygen. Her clit was tight, her hands gripping the cushions underneath her, her knuckles white and straining. Her body a riot, somewhere in the middle she was aware of him coming inside her, releasing himself into her body, smothering her insides with himself, hot and brilliant.

Eventually, she came back to consciousness, tired, over stimulated but happy. Panting, she opened her eyes. She saw him through her mirage of colours, spurious, yet firmly stood in front of her.

That was the best orgasm he had given her, ever.

"Want some more, nympho?"

"No. Sir." she gasped.

"Oh really?"

"Yes Sir. Po-Poison ivy."