Portal to Hell

Lily Pugh's bed had become a portal to hell.

She didn't know this, of course, or else she would have found another room to sleep in that night. Instead, she made herself a cup of tea, played some soft music on her bluetooth speaker, and read a book until late at night. It was a mostly-nightly ritual of hers, a turn down from the night and a focus on preparing herself for sleep. It wasn't too long ago that her nights were spent out in bars or clubs, drinking $20 watered down drinks and dancing with sweaty, handsy strangers. She would go to bed drunk and wake up sick and dehydrated, or even still drunk some mornings. But she was 40 now, by all accounts an actual grown up, and had decided she needed to start acting like one.

It was... good, actually. She enjoyed the quiet time by herself. She was happy to start reading again, and loved waking up actually feeling rested the next day. She loved coming in to work and listening to her younger colleagues talk about their underwhelming nights out and remember that, not too long ago, she was in their same shoes.

It was later than usual, and Lily was still awake. It may have been a good thing she wasn't in bed when it became a portal to hell, or maybe it would have made no difference. There was no sound, no noise, no trumpets and wailing and gnashing of teeth or flames coming up from the floorboards. If she had been in the room staring at the bed when the transformation occurred, she may not have noticed anything at all. She wasn't, anyways. Instead she was in her living room, only a few chapters away from being ready for bed. Those chapters turned into a few more, and those turned into the rest of the book.

It was Friday night, and Lily had no reason to wake up early. She was also unembarrassed to admit that her Friday night excitement was staying up a few hours later than usual to finish a book she was reading. When she had read the last word on the last page, she closed the book with a satisfying thud, turned it over to the cover, flipped through a few pages, and finally set it next to the empty glass of tea on her side table. She stood up and stretched before shutting off the music and turning the lights out as she walked back to her bedroom. She made no notice of her bed. She brushed her teeth, took half a melatonin and climbed into bed.

She was asleep quickly, within minutes. Underneath her bed, from absolute darkness, It came.

You see, that's what most people misunderstand about hell. And it's all due to a single Italian man from hundreds of years ago: Hell isn't bright, hot flames dancing around and casting shadows. It's dark. It's like a cave, miles from the entrance. It's like a room of vantablack. It is the literal absence of light. If someone were to have been standing in Lily's room when the portal opened and It began its ascension upwards, they would have assumed her room was basked in bright, harsh light compared to the darkness that It came from.

It had no beginning, and will likely have no ending. It had no real form that humans could see or comprehend, and certainly no motives or goals beyond human suffering. Or maybe the suffering was just a side effect? Maybe It didn't even realize it was causing suffering in It's actions. It was Lovecraftian, without the casual racism. It was horrifying, fantastic, unusual, the greatest and worst thing to ever traverse Earth. And It was now in Lily's bedroom.

Long, dark tentacles climbed through the portal under her bed, oozing up her bedposts from the blackness below. Up the side of her mattress, under her blankets. Lily slowly woke up, feeling the cold wetness against her skin. First, she woke up slowly. Then, in a sudden instant, she was fully awake and alert. She screamed out in shock, and then fear. She tried to jump free from the arms around her and out of bed, but was unable. She tried to swat them away, tried to crawl up her headboard, anything her mind could consider in its extreme fight-or-flight mode, but the tentacles around her were simply too fast, too strong to overcome. She had kicked her sheets and blankets off her bed in the struggle, and now could see perfectly her assailant: half a dozen long, slimy tentacles crawling up somewhere from under her bed.

This isn't real, her logical 21st century brain told herself. Obviously, this isn't real. Where could they have come from? What are they? These things don't happen, this isn't logical.

THIS IS REAL AND HAPPENING, ITS WET AGAINST MY SKIN, I DON'T LIKE THIS!!!! Her cavewoman brain screamed at her, overpowering the logical side of her brain that refused to accept any of this.

Her legs were forced apart and pulled tight downwards. In fact, if not for the two tentacles doing the same to her arms she would have been pulled off the bed. It wasn't just a firm holding grip, it was actively pulling her limbs apart until she couldn't move at all and was in an uncomfortable amount of pain. Her eyes widened in horror as more tentacles worked their way slooooowly up from the darkness underneath her bed and up to her mattress. She screamed out again in horror, as if her lungs suddenly remembered they existed and decided to make up for lost time. A loud, piercing scream unlike any she had ever heard, much less given. The kind that would wake the neighbors, that would be her salvation.

The kind that was silenced in an instant by a thick, slimy tentacle. sliding across her lips, muting her scream. It continued to slide across her face, rubbing against her lips the entire time. Working its way from her mouth, down her cheek, past her neck and finally around her throat. A chokehold that was more pressure than anything. Not restricting airflow, almost a warning that it could and would. Once it was certain she wouldn't be asphyxiated, Lily's brain took the time to let her know what the tentacle tasted like: bad. Toadstool and mucus combined with another bodily fluid that Lily didn't create. That's what her brain told her. She was being bound and assaulted by tentacles and her brain took the time to say "Hey Lily! In case you're curious, this tastes like a mouthful of snot and your ex's jizz after a week of fast food. Anything else, bestie?"

Once her movement was totally restricted, the real horror began. Crawling up from the foot of the bed, two more tentacles. They made their way up, wrapping themselves around her feet. She was unable to kick them away, unable to prevent the tickling as they ran across her sensitive soles and worked their way to her ankles. Her eyes wide in fear, she watched as they moved up inside of her pajama pants and swirled around her calves, working their way up her thighs. They moved up her leg in a spiral, leaving behind a cold, sticky residue. She could now feel the individual sucker cups gripping, feeling, then releasing her sensitive skin as the arm traveled up her body.

Once they both reached her waist, she felt them tear outwards in a sudden and violent motion, unwrapping themselves from her legs and tearing her pajama pants. She tried screaming out again, but the force around her mouth and throat tightened instantly, and she stopped. More tentacles around her arms now, except they didn't bother before tearing the shirt from her chest. Tattered fabric lay around and underneath her now, naked except for her panties and dark purple tentacles making their way all over her now. She felt them around her breasts; first simply brushing across them, then wrapping themselves around like the shibari porn she had saved on a special folder on her computer.

Squeezing her breasts, circling over them again and again until all she could see was tentacle. She could feel the cups grabbing and releasing her skin, almost as if probing for something. Then they found her nipples. Once one tentacle discovered her right nipple, the second was on her left in an instant. The odd sensation of grabbing and releasing from the sharp suction cups found all over the bottom of the tentacles against her sensitive nipples. She tried to squirm, but was still totally bound to the bed. Every time she tried to move, the arms pulled her limbs just a bit further apart.

Another tentacle pushed its way past her panties, past her labia, and finally inside of her vagina. She shut her eyes tight and tried to ignore what was happening: these strange, slick tendrils were violating her. She could feel it spreading her open, and the shock and fear was the only thing that helped to dim the pain. She could feel the wet, cold excretions leaking out inside of her. The same thing her brain had decided tasted like snot and cum was oozing out inside of her poor tight, little pussy. The tentacle pushed itself deeper inside of her, filling her up. A second one pushed itself roughly in with the second, the excretions acting like lube to keep her wet enough for such an action. It actually worked... quite well for that one purpose, which is NOT what Lily was considering at the moment.

The tentacles seemed to like being inside of her, because a third one also slid past her panties and down her ass. Again, she knew better than to struggle or scream, so she lay perfectly still while she felt the cold, slimy arm slide past her buttcheeks and probe her brown asshole. It only took a second before pushing itself inside her anus. This tentacle did not stop at only a few inches like the ones stuffing her pussy, and she felt it crawl all the way inside of her colon. This was impossible she knew, but fuckkkk it felt so far deep up her ass. Her stomach hurt, and she felt like she had to shit, but bit her tongue to keep from screaming, to keep from moving, to keep her arms and legs and throat all safe. She was in pure survival mode now, her brain deciding that since neither Fight or Flight worked, it would try Freeze for a while.

She felt so very full. Two thick tentacles in her pussy, and one deep up her ass. They sat still for a moment, then began pulsating. While they did, she could feel the suction cup-like feelers open up, and a flood of the same gooey, sticky material that the tentacles excreted began to ooze out inside of her. It wasn't long until both her pussy and ass were full of this fluid, and it began to run down her legs and pool around her body on the mattress. She could feel the tentacles pulsate inside of her, growing warm before sending the cold fluids inside of poor body. It did this for minutes, and then she began to lactate.

The tentacles, one on each nipples, had never stopped their action while her pussy and ass had been invaded. And now, she could actually feel the milk being pulled from her breast and feeding this creature. This time she did cry out, and the tentacle released its pull from her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream, and it plunged itself in. She gaged, tried to puke it out, but after that first movement inward, remained just before her gag reflect. She could taste the fish like flavor of the tentacle before it, too, began to ooze that fluid down her throat.

She had once swallowed the cum of a man with hyperspemia. She had thought it was hot when he told her he came "a lot", but she was unprepared for what "a lot" meant. It had shot to the back of her throat and filled her mouth and she gagged and choked on it before letting it spill out of her mouth and down her tits. He had thought it hilarious once he realized she wasn't going to die, and she never swallowed cum again. It wasn't a big loss, to be honest. That was her worse experience with something foreign in her mouth, until tonight. Like then, her mouth filled up quickly. The tentacle had swelled even thicker, and worked to basically seal her mouth shut. Any of the sticky, thick substance she had to swallow, and her body worked overtime trying to. But still, it was too much, and it came flowing out of her nose and finally, the tentacle deflated some and allowed for a deluge of material to spill out of her mouth and down her cheeks and chin.

It was done, apparently. The tentacle pulled itself free from her mouth, leaving her choking and gagging on the thick fluids. The one in her ass pulled out slowly, leaving with an audible pop and allowing a flood of the material to flow freely out of her ruined asshole and sit all around her cheeks. The two in her pussy crawled out of her together, leaving her gaped and feeling ruined. The two on her breasts unwrapped themselves, leaving her tits purple and looking sore. Milk still dribbled from her previously dry breasts, the nipples still engorged and erect. Then the cold, wet grip around her throat lessened, and she could breath freely. Finally, all four of her limbs were free. She watched as the thick, dark tentacles slowly oozed back down her mattress and down her bedposts and finally into the dark abyss under her bed. Then the abyss was gone.

She sat up slowly, carefully. She looked over her body, now totally naked. She hadn't even realized her panties had, at some point, been torn off her as well. Her body was covered in red welts, roughly the size and shape of a tea cup saucer. Around her wrists and ankles were dark purple bruises already from her being grabbed and held. Her body was covered in the sticky goo, and she felt it with her fingers. It was slick, cold, impossible to get off her fingers once touched. An inch deep pool of the fluids sat around her gaping pussy and ruined asshole, and her areoles were red and bleeding slightly from the tentacles nursing at her.

Lily Pugh lay down and fell asleep just like that, totally spent from the night.