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The first time Dean encountered the creature was about a year after Sam left for Stanford. He and Dad had found an article about a swampy area where someone always went missing once a year, always on the same day, showing up again a few days later dazed and without any memory of the events. The annual repetition suggested it might be some kind of ritual or even a residual haunting. Dean had been sent ahead to scout the area while Dad tried to track down any past victims that might have remained local.
He was cautiously making his way around the shoreline between marsh and trees when he saw movement a short way out in the water. What looked like a pale hand flailed a bit and then disappeared beneath the surface. Dean was entirely aware that he should have known better--there were all kinds of creatures that lured people with false distress--but he couldn’t stop himself from trying to get a closer look.
Seconds after his boot entered the water, something grabbed his ankle and pulled his feet from beneath him. His head hit a rock or a tree root or something, and everything went black.
~~~~~
When he came to, the creature had dragged him off to some kind of hidden cave and was in the process of surprisingly carefully removing his clothing. He was pinned gently around the neck, waist, wrists, elbows, ankles, and knees by tentacles maxing out at about as thick around as his arms, the color of brackish water. The tentacles working at stripping him were smaller, fading from the brownish green to an almost white with smaller appendages much like fingers, and Dean recognized the lure that had caught his eye earlier. He never saw the main body of the creature because it remained underwater.
He struggled, and all the tentacles, except the one around his neck, squeezed firmly. Another small tentacle, this one ending in a pulsating and dripping sphincter pressed to his lips. He kept his mouth firmly closed and tried to turn his face away. One of the hand-like appendages suddenly reared back and slapped him sharply. He gasped, and the other tentacle darted forward and into his mouth. It was rubbery, and biting did no good. He could feel it pumping a salty liquid down his throat, and the world began to go hazy. The hand-like tentacle that had struck him caressed his cheek as though in apology and returned to undoing the fastenings on his clothes.
Whatever was in the secretions made him pliant, and the undressing was soon complete. The tentacle retreated from his mouth. Dean realized that the substance it had fed him was likely the reason the victims remembered nothing. It might have turned out the same way for him, but his gag reflex belatedly kicked in, and he had just enough time to turn his head before his stomach heaved and he threw up its contents.
He wasn’t unconscious, but he didn’t have the energy to struggle, so the creature must have decided he was drugged enough to carry on with its plans. The tentacle that had been in his mouth released a burst of the same liquid over Dean’s bare abdomen, and the hand extensions began rubbing the viscous fluid into his skin. His belly tingled and then went numb. He saw two of the finger-like tendrils pinch a bit of the skin near his navel and pull back, and he watched in horrified fascination as the skin stretched away from him like he was made of rubber.
He bucked slightly when he felt something prodding his ass, but then that went numb, too. It was that slime tentacle again, and he was suddenly grateful in had decided to start with his mouth.
He felt a steady pressure and then a feeling of fullness. He watched as he could actually see something writhing beneath his skin. He strained to crane his neck and get a better view. A hand tentacle helpfully propped itself at the back of his head so he could watch.
He gasped as he saw that the tentacle disappearing between his legs was as big around as his wrist, but he felt no pain. His eyes widened when he saw softball sized lumps moving along the same tentacle toward him. There was pressure again before the first of the lumps popped through his anus and continued through his bowels, followed shortly by another and another. He felt warm and full.
Several hand tentacles rubbed his belly as it was pumped fuller and fuller. One of them wrapped around his cock, which he now realized was hard and leaking, but he couldn’t see it because his belly now looked like that of a full-term pregnant woman, and he kind of was, since the round shapes were almost certainly the monster’s eggs.
The skin was beginning to look strained, shiny and red in places. The slime tentacle returned, showering the ever-growing orb with the strange roofie/elastic gloop, which was promptly rubbed into the now ever more stretchy flesh.
The not-quite-a-hand jacked him slowly with a perfect amount of pressure, thankfully using his own pre-come to slick the way and not the slime because Dean would have hated not being able to enjoy probably the best hand/tentacle job in his recent memory. His eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned. The tip of one of the fingery extensions teased his slit and he orgasmed, shuddering and gasping.
He must have blacked out again because when he opened his eyes, he’d been rearranged to lie propped against one rocky wall, his impossibly distended belly stretching out before him, pushing his legs apart. He was no longer restrained, but his limbs still felt heavy, and he wouldn’t have been able to lug around the titanic gut full of tentacle eggs anyhow.
He almost expected the overstretched skin to look lumpy, but it must have also pumped in liquid, or perhaps the eggs weren’t hard-shelled. Whatever the case was, his skin was smooth. He must look like a giant, flesh-colored ball with the rest of him attached.
As he lay there, he could see himself slowly expanding further, but the tentacles were nowhere in sight. He began to fear that without the slime’s intervention, he might explode, but as far as he knew, all the people in the past had survived the experience.
The numbing effect gradually wore off, and after a while, Dean could finally bring his hands up to prod at his massive belly. The flesh gave only slightly, but the pressure against the sensitive flesh felt amazing. Dean could feel himself hardening again as he pressed and rubbed over every bit of skin he could reach. His hips tried to buck, but the weight over them pinned him in place, and for some reason, that turned him on, too. He’d been reduced to nothing but an egg sack for a monster. The idea should infuriate and disgust him, but instead he found that a dark part of him really liked being restrained and used. He put his hands as close to opposite sides of his tightly-packed gut as he could get them and squeezed inward as hard as he could, coming hard from just the feeling.
He lost track of time this way until he felt a touch not his own again. The hand-like tentacles joined in on the rubbing. One of them found his belly-button--Dean could only imagine what that must look like now--and pinched and poked at it, and Dean shouted in ecstasy, almost afraid he might have a heart attack from the constant stimulation.
The slime tentacle returned to his asshole, not entering, but bathing the area in the strange fluid. The hands and soon the more regular tentacles returned and began to squeeze his bloated form. Dean bore down as best he could, feeling one of the now much larger eggs pushing against his hole, which under the aid of the stretching slime, stretched easily around the object. Pushing out the egg was a strange sensation, mostly numbed as he was, but it was also strangely enjoyable. He orgasmed several times throughout the lengthy laying session, and whenever he was too tired to help with the pushing, he just lay back and enjoyed the sensations as the tentacles helped to squeeze the eggs out of him.
The eggs were piled nearby, and Dean was somewhat surprised and impressed through his pleasured haze to see that they were almost as large as basketballs. They were gooey and stretchy, which explained how they could manage to fit through his hole without destroying his pelvis, but maybe the strange, elastic fluid had temporarily altered that, too.
As he looked at the ever growing collection of eggs, he felt both a strong sense of pride and a lingering sadness, which was weird, until he realized the feelings weren’t his. The tentacle creature was telepathic! He looked closer at the gelatinous eggs and realized why the creature was so sad; every egg was completely clear--they were all empty. The tentacle monster could produce eggs, but apparently, it couldn’t fertilize them.
Dean wondered what the urgency was. Creatures this size were usually very old, so this one had probably been in the swamp for centuries, but the abductions were a recent thing, and Dean and his dad had looked as far back as any records in the area went.
Dean forced himself to focus and take a closer look at the monster. Parts of some of the larger tentacles were a mottled grey color. Initially, Dean had dismissed it as a camouflaging pattern, but now that he looked closer, the flesh in those areas was rougher, more brittle looking.
“You’re dying,” he whispered his realization aloud. He felt more sorrow as well as resignation from the tentacle beast in response. “Hell, if this makes you feel better about it, go ahead and use me.” One of the hand-like tentacles cupped his face and he felt a burst of gratitude.
He began to fall asleep, exhausted from the ordeal. The slime tentacle gently tried to prod its way into his mouth again, but he kept his jaws firmly clenched. He wanted to remember...
~~~~~
He woke up on the shoreline, fully clothed. Other than the fact that he was still a little damp, it was as though nothing at all had happened; his belly showed absolutely no evidence that a short time ago it had been impossibly full of large tentacle eggs. Dean could almost have passed it off as a very strange dream, but the date display on his watch showed he’d missed three days.
The relieved hug his father gave him when they found one another again made him feel a bit guilty. He’d actually been having kind of a great time!
When ordered to report what had happened, he bent the truth. He told his father it was some kind of tentacle creature, but he’d been able to break free and kill it after it dragged him to its lair. He explained the rest of the time away as being lost trying to find his way back from the depths of the swamp.
John had seemed a little suspicious, but he’d let it go. Shortly after that, they’d begun going their separate ways on hunts, and though the loneliness tormented Dean, it made going back the next year a lot easier.
His plan was simple: offer himself up for the creature’s use in place of any unsuspecting innocents. Dean had never been one to turn down freely offered orgasms, and the lonely, dying swamp monster could eventually go out with a bang. It was possible that the creature preferred to take a different host every time, and his presence would be ignored, but Dean had a feeling.
He found the same spot he’d been taken from before, stripped down, carefully folded and hid his clothes, and waded out into the shallows. After a short time, he finally felt a tentative brush against an ankle, though he couldn’t see anything in the muddy water. Then a handacle, as he’d nicknamed the hand-like ones, rose from the water and cupped his face like the creature had done last time. He felt surprise and happiness.
“Let’s get this party started!” he declared with a grin.
~~~~~
Over the next few years, he could tell that the creature, he no longer thought of it as a monster, was steadily weakening, but she--yeah, he’d begun thinking of her as a lady, too--still met him in the same place without fail. He’d even given the strangely gentle and affectionate beast a nickname, Tina, not that he used it anywhere but in his own head.
Even after meeting up with Sam again, Dean always found a way to sneak off for his yearly “Tentacle Tina Time.”
He missed it the year he went to Hell. After his resurrection, he went back, afraid that Tina had passed on in his absence. He’d seen no stories in the papers about any abductions, and he’d never known which time with her might be the last.
Just like the first time, he’d barely even contacted the water when he was suddenly surrounded by caressing tentacles. He was equally assaulted by feelings of worry and joy.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. You would not believe where I’ve been...”
That year she filled him twice. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he liked to think that she’d saved up her eggs from the last year and waited for his return. After Hell, a bit of pure pleasure and loyalty that he could count on like death and taxes was just about the most awesome thing ever!
He even came the year he was with Lisa. He was especially looking forward to it that time, actually.
He knew Sam would eventually catch on that something was up, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
~~~~~
This year, Dean was settling back for a quick nap after yet another mind-blowing orgasm, rubbing gently at his mammoth belly that was still in its expanding phase, when he heard a familiar horrified gasp.
“Sam?” His brother’s face was frozen in a paroxysm of worried disgust. “What are you doing here? How’d you find me?”
“What happened to you?” Sam stammered. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll figure out a way to help you.”
Before Dean could try to explain that he didn’t need any help, thanks, Tina arrived on the scene, not at all happy with the interruption. She restrained Sam in midair, deliberately held at a distance from Dean, since he’d clearly been headed in his direction. Other tentacles covered Dean’s egg-filled stomach, stroking possessively.
“It’s okay,” Dean gasped, trying to focus through the pleasure of the tentacles’ touch on his oversensitive skin so soon after he’d just climaxed. “He...ah....doesn’t...nnng...mean any harm! Please don’t...oh, OH...hurt him...” He shuddered and couldn’t hold back a yell of pleasure.
“Oh my God,” Sam blurted, “are you enjoying that?”
“Feels amazing,” Dean admitted, “and it’s not hurting anyone.” As if on cue, Tina’s death grip on Sam relaxed slightly.
“Wait.” Sam’s eyes narrowed. “You just told it not to hurt me and it listened. How many times have you done this, Dean? I saw the entry in Dad’s journal about this hunt--you told him you killed it.”
Sometimes Sam’s brain was unbelievably annoying.
“I come back every year.” Dean wasn’t ashamed. If Sam really wanted to know, Dean could finally share. “I think she’s dying, Sammy. She’s got a biological imperative to try to reproduce, but she can’t. She’s lonely, I’m lonely, and it’s some of the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“This is crazy, Dean.” Behind Sam, one of Tina’s handacles picked up and hefted a rock. Dean subtly shook his head. As an alternative, Tina held up her slime tentacle and gestured at Sam’s face. “Oh shit! What’s it doing now?”
“She’s offering to make you forget, Sam. She can do that. There’s some kind of drug in her secretions.”
“Dean,” Sam pleaded, “you know this can’t go on, right? We need to take care of this.”
Dean sighed and let his eyes flick back to the rock. “I am taking care of it. I’m sorry, Sam.”
Tina clocked him on the back of his head and proceeded to dose him with enough slime to erase his memory of all this and then some.
~~~~~
Dean patted his brother’s cheek. “Rise and shine, kiddo. Don’t make me have to take you to an ER.”
Sam sat up and groaned. He hissed when his fingers ran over the goose egg on the back of his skull. “What happened?”
“You must have followed me when I came here. I think you fell and hit your head. It’s a good thing I was nearby.”
“What were you doing here?” Sam demanded. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you disappear the same time every year?”
“It’s just a personal thing,” Dean half-lied. “I never said anything because I’m always teasing you about being a hippie and stuff for liking to camp, and I didn’t want to deal with your crap. There’s just something out here that I find...fulfilling.” He caught himself running a hand over his now very empty and still somewhat sensitive stomach. “Let’s go get something to eat--I’m starving.”
Out of the corner of his eye as they were leaving, he thought he spied a handacle wave before slipping back below the surface.
I hope I see you next year! he thought with a smile.
Epilogue:
On the way home to the bunker from a black dog hunt, they stopped by a Hunter's supply shop because they were out of some spell component Sam insisted they needed. As his brother haggled at the counter, Dean found himself drawn to a small mason jar full of an iridescent, viscous liquid that was tinged slightly green. Instead of remaining still, the liquid seemed to writhe and pulsate slightly.
"What's this?" he interrupted the shopkeeper to ask.
"Oh, that?" The man rolled his eyes. "I know a guy took out a tentacle monster down in Florida. Near as he could tell, that's probably semen. Figure it's gotta have some kinda use other than pumping folks into human balloons."
"I'll take it."
Sam wrinkled his nose. "Really, Dean? Why?"
"Like the man said," Dean hedged, "you never know when it might come in handy."
~~~~~
As Tina ran her tentacles over him from head to toe in greeting, sending him mild confusion at the fact that he was still clothed, Dean reached into his pocket and presented the jar of supposed tentacle spunk.
"I brought you a present."
A regular tentacle grasped the jar while a handacle deftly cracked the lid. Tina began shooting waves of excitement, all her tentacles vibrating with it.
"Guess it's the real deal, then?"
She whisked him away to the cave faster than she ever had before. He had to help her undress him, her tentacles were shaking so badly. He could tell she was forcing herself not to rush things, carefully preparing Dean with her numbing, stretchy slime so he wouldn’t be harmed.
Dean wasn’t sure how much control she had over the number of eggs she produced, but once she started filling him, he was pretty sure she was maxing him out--putting all her eggs in his basket, as it were. By the time she finished, he was close to the size he’d been just before laying some of her smaller clutches. He watched as she retrieved the jar and emptied it on his lax hole.
Dean had seen the stuff moving around in the jar, but he was not at all prepared for the sensation of the puddle of tentacle jizz crawling up inside him on its own. It was a little gross and tickled like nobody’s business, but it was definitely worth it to feel Tina’s anticipation.
She rubbed his belly all throughout the growing phase, liberally showering him in the stretchy goop, and Dean wasn’t about to complain because having his distended belly touched was his favorite part of the whole procedure. He lost track of time in a haze of orgasmic bliss.
Finally, Tina began the gentle prodding and squeezing that Dean knew meant it was time to lay. He couldn’t see anything past the massive sphere his abdomen had become, but if he looked to the side, he could see Tina making a pile of eggs that didn’t look any different than the usual, possibly smaller even. He expected disappointment, but Tina just seemed to be getting more and more excited.
Eventually, he was down to a medicine ball-sized gut, but where this would normally be several eggs, it felt different. Tina gently pulled his legs wide apart and massaged his remaining belly. Dean, though on the edge of exhaustion, pulled together his remaining strength to help. He grunted and strained as an egg far larger than any before slowly squeezed its way out of him, stretching him in ways that would have been lethal without Tina’s slime.
Tina cradled the large egg and presented it to Dean proudly. It was clear, like the others, but in the very center there was a darker spot. If he squinted, Dean could make out a tiny blob the size of a hen’s egg, complete with a fluttering in its transparent center that must be some kind of heart and dozens of fine, hair-like tentacles radiating around it.
“Congratulations, babe!” Dean grinned, but it was a bittersweet moment for him. “Guess you won’t be needing me anymore?”
Tina wrapped him in a crushing tentacle embrace and bombarded him with the strongest denial of that suggestion he could imagine.
“Okay!” Dean gasped, and the tentacles eased up a bit. “Okay,” he repeated, “I guess we still have a standing appointment!”