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Darien's Tentacular Adventure	By : Renfield Category: Sailor Moon > General Views: 19855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Darien lay on his face, staring thoughtlessly out through the bars of his cell. He was still securely trussed in his harness, of course, because the twins had promised him he would be permitted no control over his own sex organs. It felt like a minor triumph to him that, although sleeping on his stomach left him vulnerable to the probing of male vines, it was a certain defense against the female vines sucking his energy from him in his sleep.
His cell was quite small: not more than eight feet by eight feet, with a ceiling not more than forty inches above the floor, but it would not cramp him so long as he was bound hand and foot. The dimensional pocket housing the twins' base of operations featured the pit where the hive plant was kept, the work platform where he had been stripped and harnessed during his orientation, and the hill, to the right of the platform, at the top of which was an odd round building where he supposed the twins and their assorted drones resided. Darien's cell lay along the path which wound from the work platform to the residence. At his elevation, he could see only part of the plant pit, and the veil of grey cloud which swirled around the borders of the pocket, as if it were built in the eye of a hurricane.
Since there was no weather here, no one worried about the affects of exposure on him; however, there were no changes in light to mark time periods, such as day and night. The unending grey half-light affected Darien almost as badly as the male vines. He could not tell how much time had elapsed since his abduction, and his sleep patterns were starting to suffer.
He heard a pair of drones approaching from the residence. The drone guards, like the twins, were endowed with arms, legs, hands, and feet, but that appeared to be all they had in common. The drones were a metallic bluish black in color, and their bodies were generally hidden from view by the profusion of tentacles, cilia, large crab-clawed limbs and other appendages sprouting from out from them. They seemed to have no heads and Darien could not see any eyestalks, yet somehow they could see, speak, and perform their duties with no difficulty. They had never abused or favored him, so he remained still as they came up to his cell and stopped.
"Slave, present your face," one of them ordered, and Darien scrambled to the front of the cage to press his face against the bars: it was feeding time. He did not particularly enjoy being fed, but the alternative when he had once snubbed a meal had been excruciating. The drone pulled down a thick tube like an enormous, flabby white udder (Darien would never know if it was attached to a container, or an organism), and fed the end of it into Darien�s waiting mouth.
Trying not to think, Darien immediately began to suck, working at the fleshy tube with his mouth. If he used his teeth on it, the tube would cinch shut and give him nothing. Presently he was rewarded with a stream of hot, salty, nutrient soup, which he tried not to taste as it went down. It was a white, slippery chowder with a strange, sour taste that reminded him of� nothing that whet his appetite. The soup began to come in generous spurts, in rhythm with his sucking and swallowing, and when he'd gotten down about a pint of the stuff, the guards took the udder from him. Deviating from routine, they opened the front of his cage--it had no door, but the bars would simply part like a curtain, somehow--picked him up by the harness, and carried him down to the work platform.
The twins were already busy, monitoring who-knew-what at their stations of exotic instruments. "Will you gag him, this time? I'm tired of the noises he makes, and I don't want to be interrupted," the brother requested in general.
Darien felt a small pang of fear as he was fitted with a perforated ball gag, and left to kneel in the center of the work platform. The sister smiled down at him, and he realized a male vine was eeling its way towards him. He glanced back at the sister in confusion. Until now, she had sent male vines directly to his cell, to keep him erect and desperate. What had changed?
The squirming male vine wasted little time feeling around his body. It slipped between his buttocks and thrust its organ home. He tried to sit stoically while the vile thing buttfucked him, as if he were as bored as the male twin, but the sister only smiled a disturbing little smile and turned back to her instruments. After an interval which was the closest thing Darien had to a reliable measurement of time, the wormlike vine spurted its load of aphrodesiac into him, and withdrew. He had already been hard when the drone guards brought him down, but now he began to feel the effects of a fresh batch of vine slime again. His balls seemed to bloat, and his erection felt weighted and strengthened by a bone of iron. The desire continued to sharpen. Darien slumped forward and panted.
The sister was watching him again, now with chin in hand, and smiling. What was she up to?
A second male vine climbed the edge of the platform.
Oh, surely not!
But.. the sister continued to smile as she watched him, and the second vine followed the trail of the first. Darien whimpered behind his gag. This was an older vine, with gnarled, bark-like patches in its skin, longer and larger than the vines that had serviced him until now. If the other vines could be likened to boa constrictors, this one was closer in type to an anaconda. His masculinity forbade him from trying to evade it, under the circumstances, so he simply stared in horror.
It moved a little faster than a snake, greased as it was by its own juices, and coiled around him quickly. Darien's gag muffled dry sobs of anxiety. Coils seethed around and against him, rubbing the spicy-green scented ooze into his bare skin. Presently he felt a coil tighten around his waist, and the round head of the male vine slipped beneath his crotch. It was about the size of a bowling ball, and slowly (compared to the younger vines) extruded its firm round member. Darien twisted in a moment of panic, and the coils tightened further around his waist and thigh.
The vine probed for entrance along his backside, and finally made use of the last vine's load of slime to ease its way into Darien�s rectum. Unlike younger male vines, the phallus of this one was not flexible and prehensile, but hard, stiff, and richly textured by age. Darien�s entire body went rigid and he could not hold back his cries as it slowly filled him.
"You still haven't learned, have you, slave?" the sister remarked, and suddenly Darien realized she was addressing him. "You must go limp, and accept it. You're only wasting your energy otherwise--don't you want to conserve your energy?" she appealed. As much as it burned him to admit, she was right, and he knew it. His body continued to quiver involuntarily as he forced it to relax, and surrender to the vine. More coils wrapped around his arms and chest, supporting him as the head of the vine bore up under his center of gravity, and its length lifted him clear of the ground.
The vine's thrusts were not violent, but the motion was enough to make Darien's already engorged balls sting at the bite of gravity. His cock was by now so hard it would not wag or nod, no matter how the male vine bounced his hips. If he were to come from this type of penetration, he wondered, would it make his genitals feel better, or worse? He concentrated on remaining relaxed as the plant raped him, and wracked his brain for past experiences he could actually call worse than this situation. Before one came to mind, the vine began to ejaculate. Darien tensed reflexively against the pressure, trembling with his efforts to subdue his body. When the stiff, woody organ withdrew, the pressure lifted as the vine's fluid flowed freely down his buttocks and thighs. He was left lying on his back in the center of the work platform, moaning behind the gag as the second dose of aphrodesiac began to take effect. His balls felt to be about the size of oranges, and his penis was trying to become a telephone pole. Even the secret inner gland, his prostate, began to ache from need.
"Is the slave ready?" asked the brother, who had been talking quietly with someone in the background (Darien was a slave, they delighted in explaining to him, because he was neither Citizen, nor worker, nor drone).
"I'll let you judge for yourself," the sister answered with a wave of her hand.
Her brother simply ordered the guards to bring him. They seemed careful to avoid as much of the male vine's slime as possible, as they carried him by his harness. The shift in positions increased the flow of blood to his groin, and his whole crotch began to throb. The male twin removed Darien's gag, and he simply panted with his head hanging.
"You have a visitor, slave," the brother told him, and when the words finally registered he raised his head to see.
A scry hung before him, a ragged tear in the air which displayed the corner of a darkened room. It was a bedroom--a girl's bedroom--and he could see the girl sitting up in her ordinary bed, in her ordinary pajamas. She looked horrified.
Wow, she's really pretty, Darien thought stupidly, in the instant before he recognized her.
"Darien!" he heard her gasp, and he whipped his face away before it lit up with a blush.
"You don't have anything to say to your visitor?" the brother asked.
"Nothing," Darien muttered, trying to hide his face.
"You don't want to tell her how you feel?"
"No."
"Tsk! I do wish you could learn to express yourself," the brother lamented, and nodded at the guards still holding Darien.
To his shock, he felt a pair of tentacles, one from each side, curl around his buttocks. They slid smoothly through his anus, still slick with slime and loose from the thrusts of the grandfather vine, and began to twine and churn within him. Darien gasped at the sensation. These tentacles were very different from the organs of the male vines: longer, more supple, and clearly belonging to intelligent creatures. Suction cups worked against his interior walls as the drones began to tease and stroke him from within. Darien's fight for his composure was a losing battle. He began to pant under the tension as his back arched, and clear precum welled forth from the head of his brutally turgid erection. His buttocks clenched and his thighs trembled as his entire body started to respond to the stimulation.
Oh God� am I going to come..?
"Darien, what's happening!?" cried the girl in the scry, and his face turned an even deeper shade of red. That she should see him like this�. But what could he do against it? He quivered again as his drone guards asserted their tentacular dexterity, and felt a rivulet of precum begin to trickle down the side of his swollen organ.
"Aren't you going to address your visitor, slave?" the brother asked one last time, and Darien found himself blessed with sudden inspiration. He threw his whole body weight into a forward lunge too fast for the drones to counter, and yelled:
"Serina, wake up! You're having a nightmare, you have to wake up now!"
Instantly, the brother closed the scry with an angry wave of his hand. The drones carefully withdrew their tentacles from Darien, who writhed at the strange new feeling. The brother studied his face closely for a moment, then slapped him soundly.
"That was the wrong thing to say," he said, and then a long pause elapsed, as if he were deciding on something, or perhaps just reining in his temper. "I will leave your punishment to my sister," he added at last. "Sister, I will be working in the residence." The male twin left, but he did not walk away--he vanished. The guards carried Darien to the sister, who had only stood and smirked as she watched.
"Just hang him from the instrument rack there, and you may go and wash," she told the drones. They slid a thin metal rod beneath all the shoulder straps of Darien's harness, and hung the rod across a pair of equally thin struts, before hurrying from the platform. "As drones, they are immune to the effects of the slime," the female twin told Darien as she watched them leave, "but they detest the feel of it, you see." She stepped back for a moment of prim gloating over his dangling body, before taking some items from a drawer in one of the workstations.
"Now, it�s time to punish you," she smiled, approaching him with the long, streamlined object. When she turned a switch in its base, it began to hum. "Do you know what this is, slave?"
"It's.. a vibrator," Darien responded with something like disbelief.
"Oh, that's right!" she smiled, and experimentally nuzzled the head of the vibrator against his scrotum. Apparently she delighted in his reactions, because she watched him intently as she rubbed the vibrator firmly against his testes, and then the underside of his stiff shaft. She ran it up the sides of his hard-on to take advantage of the precum he'd spilled, and then pressed the vibrator against the very tip of his cock to catch the last drops.
It was too much for Darien. With a dry sob he tried to twist his body backwards as his hips thrust reflexively at the air. The female twin stepped back and watched his struggles as if bemused. When he finally hung limp (or almost limp) on the frame, rocking slightly as he panted for his breath, she fastened the ball gag on him again.
"I will see to it that you do not disobey my brother again," she told him in a voice quieter and harder than her brother's, and began to tease Darien with the vibrator again. She bore down hard enough to press his erection against his body, hard enough to send vibrations through his entire pelvis, and hard enough that he had no space to move against her and generate a modicum of pleasure for himself. His eyes began to fill with tears. When she triggered his orgasm-seeking reflex a second time, she walked behind him as he bucked fruitlessly, grabbed hold of one of the straps which bound his thighs, and slid the vibrator home between his buttocks. Darien cried out behind the gag and froze, arched and quivering, as he had at the attentions of his drone guards. The female twin took advantage of the moment to fasten the vibrator in place with a spare strap.
"Remember to conserve your energy!" she reminded him with a healthy swat on the ass.

Darien was exhausted. His tolerance, he'd observed, seemed to come in waves: one minute the vibrator was only a silly toy buzzing away in his bowels, and the next minute its infernal vibrations resonated through his whole groin, threatening to tip his brimming testicles. He struggled to keep still during the latter periods, to save his strength and spite the female twin's voyeurism, but he could not keep his poor deprived cock from weeping precum.
This is the.. fifth thing up my ass today, he realized. Shouldn't my butt be numb by now? It felt as if he'd hung there for hours, enduring waves of erotic torment for the sister's amusement. He was feeling the fatigue, now, from his encounter with the grandfather vine, and the ordeal with the scry, but it only helped to whet his concentration on conserving his own energy. It dawned on him that he'd finally gotten the hang of it when the female twin clicked her tongue and rose from her workstation. To his amazement, she came around behind him and undid the strap securing the vibrator, then removed the vibrator with cruel slowness, as he undulated feebly. At her cue, the guards (who had since returned--or been replaced) lifted him from the delicate metal frame and laid him on his back on the floor.
Standing over him, the sister whipped out his ball gag. "Now, slave: will you apologize for what you said to your visitor in front of my brother?" she asked mildly. Darien found himself hoarse at first.
"No," he answered simply. He felt a bit giddy at having been able to defy the twins for Serina's benefit.
The twin's mouth twisted. As she gagged him again, he spied an eel-like green shape out of the corner of his eye, slithering across the platform toward them.
"I find you entirely too energetic," the sister spat, and just as she turned to walk away, the vine climbed up his body. It was female, and at this recognition a shock went through Darien�s weary body. He caught a glimpse of its strange pink mouthparts before it closed over his swollen groin, and screamed against the gag as the energy-draining vine began to trigger another paroxysm. Even without his harness and bindings, he would not have had the strength, in this state, to resist it. His aching erection took the bait readily.
Darien came. The orgasm took him with the force of a tsunami, and the leather restraining him creaked as it held against convulsions he could not have sustained consciously. The force, the sheer intensity of the pleasure was more than he could bear: it was as if a spear of pure light impaled him from crotch to throat. He screamed into the gag again, utterly at the mercy of the ecstasy taking his body; he could not even see. Once the crescendo had passed, the sensation fell to the level of a regular torment, as if the spear of light were merely stabbing him repeatedly in the genitals. His balls ached faintly even as the vine's mouthparts caressed them, and his abdominal muscles burned with fatigue, but he could do nothing to quell his own thrusts.
It's draining me, he thought, just as he began to fade. His body was still pumping its hips when he lost consciousness.
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Darien's Tentacular Adventure