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Tentacles Again	By : sashocirrione Category: Death Note > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 3992 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Tentacles Again
- 1
CHAPTER 7 of "Smutty Shorts"

Title: "Tentacles Again"

Author: Sashocirrione

Spoilers: Minor spoilers for the first half of the series.

Warnings: NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Non-consenting sexual activities with a non-human partner.

Summary: L finds himself in the difficult circumstance of getting targeted by tentacles over and over again.

Pairing: TentaclesxL

Additional Notes: Except for the tentacles being involved, all canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal.

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

When one tentacle suddenly snaked around his foot, L leapt from his chair even though he knew it was futile and useless. As expected, new tentacles spouted from the floor in his path, and quickly swarmed over him, strong, sinuous, and clammy with the special slime that always coated them. In moments they had made any further forward progress impossible.

There was never any escape from them; they could sprout from any surface, reach any distance, and once they decided they liked a human, they would return to visit that particular victim again and again.

L screamed as his feet were anchored firmly to the floor and an adventurous tentacle slid up his shirt, entering it at the bottom and feeling its way up his chest, tiny mini-tentacles from its tip tweaking his left nipple, a nipple that was hardening under the expert ministrations. The tentacles were as skilled as well-trained prostitutes, knowing all the techniques, using every advantage to arouse. L hated the slight heat he could feel already beginning to gather in his groin.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Soichiro, Matsuda and Aizawa quickly clearing out of the hotel room, taking a wide berth around. They weren't favored victims, so they'd be ignored as long as they didn't interfere, but if they got too close they would get pulled in and raped too, as an afterthought.

L screamed again and attempted to kick, though his foot only moved just slightly. The tentacles had supernatural strength. He cast his glance around, looking for the knife Watari had earlier been using to cut cake, but it was too far to possibly reach. Not that cutting the tentacles did any good. More simply grew to replace them. But it gave L a slight sense of relief to inflict pain on his aggressor, whenever he could.

A second tentacle entered the bottom of his shirt and rose up, beginning to play with his right nipple, wetly laving it with caresses and gentle pinches that were so... so...

No! I don't like this!

L reached up, grasping the slippery tentacles, trying to pull them away. It was futile. His heart was beating fast, his stomach sick and churning, and yet that heat in his lower groin was already beginning to produce a partial erection, an erection that hadn't even been touched yet.

The tiny tentacles encircling each nipple squeezed and tweaked, making his nipples ache.

L knew it was the same for every victim of the tentacles, but that thought didn't comfort him, it only really made it worse, to think of all those people who couldn't escape, who were always aroused and forced to climax by the tentacles whether they wanted it or not. The tentacles were relentlessly arousing, always bringing their victims to orgasm, without a single failure.

The only possible comforting thought was that this experience wouldn't happen any more once the case was solved.

It is only a little while until Light starts college, and I'll catch him soon after. My plan has to work. And then I'll be gone from this accursed place, this land of the tentacle monsters. I'll never return to Japan again.

Several more big tentacles entered L's shirt and when one of those rose out of the collar and tried to enter L's mouth he bit it as hard as he could. It retreated, and he panted, hoping sickly but knowing it wouldn't really work. The tentacles never truly retreated; they only hesitated and then tried again.

Fighting them was still worth it, though. It was the only way L thought he could endure the shame, if he fought hard every time. And he hoped, he always hoped that with his sharp mind he would someday discover a weakness of the tentacles, a way to force them to retreat forever.

The big tentacle returned, covering his mouth so he couldn't breathe, and then the little tentacles at its tip began slithering into L's nose. He knew this technique. He punched and scratched at the big tentacle, and tried to hook his fingers in to rip away the little ones, but they were too strong. More and more entered his nose, making him sick and tickling horribly inside and cutting off his air bit by bit. He waited until he was dizzy to take a big gasping breath, and then the big one was suddenly in his mouth, pumping in and out of his throat, gagging him and forcing him to take his breaths in rhythms around its movements.

He couldn't stop his mind from speculating and thinking, just as it always did, and for perhaps the hundredth time he wondered whether the legend that was used to explain this phenomena was true. Had an ancient Chinese monk truly lain a curse on Japan after a trade deal went sour, a curse that it would be troubled forever by tentacle demons? Surely, the total absence of the phenomena outside of Japan's borders had to be a significant clue...

Breathe... Breathe... Breathe...

Suddenly, several tentacles at once began fiddling with the button to his jeans. L screamed as well as he could manage, just because he was angry, and lashed out by scratching at the offending tentacles. It did nothing to stop them. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, the tentacles seeming to get excited, even caressing his suddenly very hard cock through the underwear.

And then his jeans were down to his knees and L was sobbing, in need and humiliation, mindlessly still trying to kick and claw and punch and just... he wanted it and hated it, knowing, anticipating, his mind breaking down in horror, inflamed with lust.

He lurched when his underwear was at last torn off too and a sweet, horrendous tentacle began circling the fevered, swollen flesh between his legs, slipping round and round in the shape of a spring wound around his dick, and then the encircling loops of tentacle began giving him an exquisitely talented, slow, relentless hand-job. He stared and tried to flinch away as the very tip of the tentacle kissed the tip of his penis and numerous tiny tentacles began sliding inside the urethra, almost unbearably intense. It made him want to scream when he was invaded that way. His hips twitched in every direction, twisting this way and that, but the mini-tentacles were uncaring, continuing to violate eagerly, plowing that tiny hole with all their vigor.

He knew what they were doing. Each tentacle was capable of climax, and at climax the tip of each larger tentacle laid many small eggs, while the miniature tentacles released sticky sperm to fertilize those eggs. The one in his throat was almost done, he could feel. It was beginning to pulse already.

Later, he would be taken to a hospital and hooked up to a special machine that would flush his orifices with a substance that caused most eggs to drop away from his mucus membranes, but it was never enough. Weeks later, he knew he'd be coughing up or sneezing out or otherwise expelling the results, tiny clusters of tentacles hardly bigger than a fingertip, and they'd disappear into whatever surface they fell on, destined to sprout full-grown at some later time.

The one in his throat finished, withdrawing, softer, thinner and very sticky, but before he could properly recover another tentacle pushed right back in, replacing it, forcing him to breathe around it in that same rhythm he'd learned so well, to his complete disgust.

He could feel that the worst and the best part was about to happen. Many tentacles were circling his buttocks, massaging them slickly. It was always the ass that interested them the most, and yet they took their time getting there. It was as if they had to decide among themselves which of the big tentacles would get that prime location.

L whimpered and suddenly jerked hard when he felt the process finally commence, a big one sliding along his crack, stopping right at the entrance and then the little ones at the tip of the big one playing with his sphincter, making him open and panting and wanting it and...

No!

He just clamped down as hard as he could in spite, trying to force them out as he kicked yet again.

The tip-tentacles were sliding in and out, penetrating, and L shuddered in need and then felt the most horrible wave of disgust yet as the big one forced its full width inside and his ass accommodated it, opening up as it plumbed deeper, deeper. L shook from a nameless ache inside and tried his best to squirm away but there were so many tentacles now. They were encircling him everywhere, even lifting him off the floor, holding him in bondage in the air.

Somehow, the big one in his ass was making him even more aroused than the hand job. He could feel his orgasm beginning to slowly yet relentlessly approach as the big one pumped in and out slickly, riding on its own incredibly slippery slime. And then, just as he'd known would happen, more little ones from the tips of other big tentacles were prodding his sphincter, trying to get in on that most desired location.

When they succeeded, his ass burned from the stretch. He couldn't take it, and yet there was nothing he'd ever felt better than this, the one big tentacle and numerous small ones pumping, penetrating him at different rhythms and angles, hitting every possible spot inside, including the most sensitive one. L could feel his prostate swelling under the attention.

No! Stop it!

He knew there were tears on his face. He tried to think about anything other than what was happening, to no avail. He struggled fiercely as his orgasm approached, even despite knowing that it would make all the tentacles climax and withdraw, putting an end to the ordeal. It was the only possible end, and yet he fought it and sobbed and closed his eyes as what felt like the hardest, most swollen erection he'd ever had in his life began spurting.

A blinding pleasure. It consumed him, mind and body.

He saw nothing but white behind his eyelids as he released and released, and was dimly aware of the excited tentacles going faster in and out of every orifice and spilling their own loads.

It was a shameful, intense peak and he didn't care about anything for a few moments, riding out the waves of pleasure rippling through his body from the source between his legs and pulsing electrically outwards, even to his tingling fingertips.

He was settling onto the floor in a puddle of goo. Sticky things were withdrawing from him in every direction.

L breathed in and out, trying to control the sobs, and then screamed again, a primal hatred coursing through him. When he could, he stumbled to the hotel bathroom and began the preliminary clean-up, to make himself presentable enough to ride to the hospital for the big purge.

His only consolation was that Light had never witnessed the tentacles victimizing him. Hopefully, he never would.

A/N (Author's Note):

This was written as a fill for a prompt at the Death Note Kink Meme 2 (it is on livejournal at dn_kink2).

Sorry about not getting the GevannixMello one finished yet. I'm still editing it and I think that fic will probably be chapter 8.
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Tentacles Again