It is recommended you listen to this song by Frenzy Eject before, after, or even while reading this story. https://www.udio.com/songs/ern6M1AtRCrKszRp8gy1Rd ---- The air in my dorm room shifted, a strange static humming in the space just above my bed. I sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs, my fingers gripping the edge of the mattress. The darkness seemed to pulse, and then it rippled. I blinked, my breath catching—not in the clichéd way, but in that sharp, involuntary gasp you make when something impossible unfolds right in front of you. My eyes widened as the portal opened slowly, like a flower blooming in reverse. It wasn’t light or color—it was a void, a deep, endless blackness that somehow felt alive. And from it, they emerged. Tentacles, thick and glistening, coiled and writhed as they spilled into my room. My mouth went dry, but I wasn’t afraid. Not exactly. There was something…&nbsp;curious&nbsp;about them. Something that didn’t feel like danger, but rather an invitation to explore the unknown.One of the tentacles extended toward me, and I froze. It moved with deliberate slowness, like it was testing the air, and then it brushed against the open notebook on my desk. The pen I’d left there rolled toward it, and the tentacle wrapped around the tip, holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world. My chest tightened as I watched, my mind racing.&nbsp;This can’t be real.&nbsp;But it was. The tentacle hovered over the paper, the pen trembling slightly, as if it were learning how to manipulate it. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my breath shallow as it began to write. The letters were shaky, awkward, like a child’s first attempt at forming words, but the message was clear: “Hello.”I stared at the word, my brain struggling to process it. “Uh… hi?” My voice was thin, shaky. I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself. “Who—what are you?” The pen scratched against the paper again, and I leaned forward, my curiosity overriding my initial shock. “Portal,” it wrote. The simplicity of the response made me snort, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “Okay, Portal. Are you… alive?” The tentacle hesitated for a moment, as if considering the question, then wrote, “Yes.” I exhaled slowly, my nerves still jangling. “Why are you here? In my room?” The pen moved again, slower this time. “To connect. To choose.”“Choose what?” I asked, my pulse quickening as I watched the tentacle dip the pen once more. “You.” My heart skipped a beat. “Me?” The tentacle didn’t move. It just waited, like it was giving me time to process. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. “Okay, uh… that’s… direct. But, like, how does that even work? You’re a… portal.” The tentacle curled, almost like it was shrugging, then wrote, “I can feel. I can touch. I can pleasure.” My cheeks burned, but a strange warmth spread through me, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something I wasn’t ready to name yet. It was crazy, surreal, but also… intriguing.My stomach twisted, but not in a bad way. There was a flutter low in my belly, a heat that I couldn’t ignore. I bit my lip, my mind racing. “And you want to… with me?” The tentacle paused, then wrote, “Yes.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Why me?” The pen scratched against the paper again, each word deliberate. “You’re curious. You’re open. You’re here.” I laughed nervously, the sound high-pitched and shaky. “Guess I can’t argue with that.” I hesitated, my thoughts swirling like a storm. “But, uh… what about consent? Boundaries? I mean, this is… intense.” The tentacle paused, then wrote, “Teach me.”I blinked, my heart pounding in my chest. “Teach you?” The pen moved again, the letters forming slowly, almost reverently. “Yes. Want to do it right.” I couldn’t help but smile, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Okay. Well, first off, you have to ask. Explicitly. And I have to say yes. Or no. Whatever I’m comfortable with.” The tentacle nodded—or at least, it did something that felt like a nod. It was surprisingly endearing, like it was trying its best to understand. Then it wrote, “Do you want this?”I stared at the words, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure it could hear it. My body was already sending signals, a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t ignore. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Then, louder, “Yes. But we need to set some rules.” The tentacle wrote again, the ink pooling slightly on the page. “Teach me.” I nodded, my mind racing as I tried to think of what to say. “Okay. First, no hurting me. Ever.” The pen moved immediately. “Agreed.” I exhaled, feeling a little more in control. “Second, if I say stop, you stop. Immediately.” The tentacle wrote, “Of course,” and I could almost feel the sincerity in its words. It was strange, how something so otherworldly could feel so… respectful.I took a deep breath, my heart still racing, but now there was a strange confidence bubbling up inside me. “Third… I want to enjoy this. I want you to make me enjoy it.” The tentacle seemed to quiver, the ink pooling slightly on the page as it wrote, “I will.” I smiled, my body tingling with anticipation. “Good.” My voice was steadier now, a strange calm washing over me. “Then let’s do this.”The tentacle set the pen down, and the others began to move, sliding toward me with a slow, deliberate grace. I lay back on the bed, my breathing shallow but steady. One tentacle brushed against my ankle, the skin warm and smooth, and I shivered. I felt a thrill run through me, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” The tentacles tightened slightly, their grip firm but not painful. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, ready for whatever came next.The first touch was electric, a jolt of sensation that ripped through me like a lightning strike. A tentacle slid up my leg, its texture smooth yet ridged in a way that sent sparks shooting through my nerves. Another coiled around my wrist, holding it firmly but gently, like it knew exactly how much pressure I could take. I gasped as a third pressed against my lips, and I opened my mouth instinctively, letting it slide inside. The taste was strange—salt and something sweet, like honey kissed by the sea—and the way it moved against my tongue, curling and pulsing, made me moan deep in my throat.“Fuck,” I muttered around it, my voice muffled but thick with arousal. “You’re good at this.” The tentacle inside my mouth withdrew slightly, and I felt it vibrate, almost like it was laughing at me. My cheeks flushed, but I couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t get cocky,” I teased, my voice trembling with both nerves and excitement. I realized, though, that with the tentacle in my mouth, I couldn’t actually say the safe word if I needed to. My heart skipped a beat, a flicker of panic rising in my chest. The tentacle seemed to sense my unease, sliding out of my mouth with a slow, deliberate motion and leaving a slick trail across my lips. One of the others reached for the notebook on my desk, the pen moving quickly across the page. I craned my neck to see what it was writing.“I can hear your thoughts,” the words formed on the paper, the handwriting steady now, practiced. “If you form them into words, as if you were going to speak them, I will know.”I blinked, my heart still racing but my panic easing slightly. “Really?” I asked, my voice shaky. The tentacle wrapped around the pen nodded—or at least, it did something that felt like a nod. I took a deep breath, trying to focus. Stop, I thought, as if I were going to say it aloud. The tentacles froze immediately, their movements ceasing as they hovered in the air. A warm feeling of reassurance washed over me, and I smiled. “Okay,” I said, my voice steadier now. “Good to know. Let’s keep going.”The tentacles tightened around me once more, their grip firm but careful, as if they were testing the limits of my body. One slid beneath my shirt, the coolness of it making me gasp as it cupped my breast, the tip teasing my nipple until it was hard and aching. Another found its way between my legs, rubbing against me through my jeans, and I arched into the touch, my hips moving on their own. “Yeah,” I breathed, the word barely more than a whisper. “Just like that.”The tentacle at my core pressed harder, grinding against me in slow, deliberate circles, and I groaned, my eyes fluttering shut. “Okay, okay, get these off,” I said, tugging at my jeans with my free hand. The tentacles obliged, their movements surprisingly dexterous as they peeled the fabric away, leaving me bare and exposed. Cool air hit my skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of the tentacles as they resumed their exploration.One slid up my thigh, the tip brushing against my folds, and I shuddered, my breath catching in my chest. “Oh, fuck. That’s it. Right there.” The tentacle pressed inside me, slow and steady, its thickness stretching me in the most delicious way. I moaned, my head falling back against the pillow as it filled me, inch by inch. “Yes. Yes. Just like that.” Another tentacle found its way to my ass, and I tensed for a moment, then relaxed as it began to press inside. The sensation was overwhelming, my body stretched and filled in ways I’d never imagined. But it wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way they moved, the way they seemed to know exactly what I wanted, what I needed.“Harder,” I gasped, my voice trembling with a mix of desperation and raw need. The words spilled out of me, barely coherent, as the tentacles inside me pulsed and writhed, their movements a symphony of sensation. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel everything.” The tentacles obeyed without hesitation, their rhythm intensifying, thrusting deeper and faster, each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me. I cried out, my nails clawing at the sheets, the fabric bunching in my fists as they worked me over, every inch of my body consumed by their writhing forms.The pleasure built and built, a tidal wave cresting inside me, each wave higher and more intense than the last. My breath came in ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I teetered on the edge of something indescribable. “God, yes. Fill me up. Fill me. I want to feel you… everywhere.” My voice was thick with lust, the words tumbling out in a haze of need.And then it happened. A wave of heat surged through me, white-hot and all-consuming, and I felt something release—a thick, warm liquid spilling inside me, filling me completely. My body convulsed, my back arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through me, ripping me apart and putting me back together all at once. I screamed, the sound raw and guttural, my vision going white as every nerve in my body lit up like a live wire. My muscles clenched and unclenched, my entire being consumed by the intensity of it, until I was left trembling, my body weak and pliant.When I finally came back to myself, the tentacles were still, their grip gentle, almost tender. I lay there, panting, my body tingling with the aftershocks of what just happened. My skin felt hot, my limbs heavy, and my mind was a jumble of thoughts and sensations. “Holy shit,” I muttered, my voice hoarse and ragged. “That was… holy shit.”The tentacle that had written in the notebook earlier reached out, brushing against my cheek in what felt like a caress. I smiled, still dazed, my lips curling into a lazy grin as I turned my head toward it. “Guess you’re a quick learner,” I said, my voice soft but filled with warmth. “You really know how to blow a girl’s mind.”It wrote again, the letters shaky but clear, as if it were still trying to catch its breath too. “Thank you.”I laughed, the sound shaky but genuine, a lightness bubbling up inside me. “No, thank you,” I said, my voice filled with gratitude and something else—something deeper. I reached out, tracing the edge of the portal with my fingers, the surface cool and smooth beneath my touch. “So… is this a one-time thing, or…” My voice trailed off, the question hanging in the air between us.The tentacle hesitated, as if considering my words, then wrote, “Up to you.”I grinned, the warmth in my belly spreading, a sense of excitement and anticipation building inside me. “Good,” I said, my voice low and sultry. “Because I think we’re just getting started.” The tentacles tightened around me again, their movements slow and deliberate, and I closed my eyes, ready for whatever came next. The night was far from over, and I couldn’t wait to see where this deliciously insane journey would take us.

The air in my dorm room shifted, and a portal opened, revealing tentacles that emerged and began to write in my notebook. I communicated with the tentacles, setting rules and boundaries, and agreed to let them pleasure me. The tentacles explored my body, giving me intense pleasure, and I experienced a powerful orgasm.

It is recommended you listen to this song by Frenzy Eject before, after, or even while reading this story. 
https://www.udio.com/songs/ern6M1AtRCrKszRp8gy1Rd
----

The air in my dorm room shifted, a strange static humming in the space just above my bed. I sat up, my heart hammering against my ribs, my fingers gripping the edge of the mattress. The darkness seemed to pulse, and then it rippled. I blinked, my breath catching—not in the clichéd way, but in that sharp, involuntary gasp you make when something impossible unfolds right in front of you. My eyes widened as the portal opened slowly, like a flower blooming in reverse. It wasn’t light or color—it was a void, a deep, endless blackness that somehow felt alive. And from it, they emerged. Tentacles, thick and glistening, coiled and writhed as they spilled into my room. My mouth went dry, but I wasn’t afraid. Not exactly. There was something… curious about them. Something that didn’t feel like danger, but rather an invitation to explore the unknown.

One of the tentacles extended toward me, and I froze. It moved with deliberate slowness, like it was testing the air, and then it brushed against the open notebook on my desk. The pen I’d left there rolled toward it, and the tentacle wrapped around the tip, holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world. My chest tightened as I watched, my mind racing. This can’t be real. But it was. The tentacle hovered over the paper, the pen trembling slightly, as if it were learning how to manipulate it. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my breath shallow as it began to write. The letters were shaky, awkward, like a child’s first attempt at forming words, but the message was clear: “Hello.”

I stared at the word, my brain struggling to process it. “Uh… hi?” My voice was thin, shaky. I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself. “Who—what are you?” The pen scratched against the paper again, and I leaned forward, my curiosity overriding my initial shock. “Portal,” it wrote. The simplicity of the response made me snort, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “Okay, Portal. Are you… alive?” The tentacle hesitated for a moment, as if considering the question, then wrote, “Yes.” I exhaled slowly, my nerves still jangling. “Why are you here? In my room?” The pen moved again, slower this time. “To connect. To choose.”

“Choose what?” I asked, my pulse quickening as I watched the tentacle dip the pen once more. “You.” My heart skipped a beat. “Me?” The tentacle didn’t move. It just waited, like it was giving me time to process. I shook my head, trying to clear the fog. “Okay, uh… that’s… direct. But, like, how does that even work? You’re a… portal.” The tentacle curled, almost like it was shrugging, then wrote, “I can feel. I can touch. I can pleasure.” My cheeks burned, but a strange warmth spread through me, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something I wasn’t ready to name yet. It was crazy, surreal, but also… intriguing.

My stomach twisted, but not in a bad way. There was a flutter low in my belly, a heat that I couldn’t ignore. I bit my lip, my mind racing. “And you want to… with me?” The tentacle paused, then wrote, “Yes.” I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Why me?” The pen scratched against the paper again, each word deliberate. “You’re curious. You’re open. You’re here.” I laughed nervously, the sound high-pitched and shaky. “Guess I can’t argue with that.” I hesitated, my thoughts swirling like a storm. “But, uh… what about consent? Boundaries? I mean, this is… intense.” The tentacle paused, then wrote, “Teach me.”

I blinked, my heart pounding in my chest. “Teach you?” The pen moved again, the letters forming slowly, almost reverently. “Yes. Want to do it right.” I couldn’t help but smile, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Okay. Well, first off, you have to ask. Explicitly. And I have to say yes. Or no. Whatever I’m comfortable with.” The tentacle nodded—or at least, it did something that felt like a nod. It was surprisingly endearing, like it was trying its best to understand. Then it wrote, “Do you want this?”

I stared at the words, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure it could hear it. My body was already sending signals, a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t ignore. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Then, louder, “Yes. But we need to set some rules.” The tentacle wrote again, the ink pooling slightly on the page. “Teach me.” I nodded, my mind racing as I tried to think of what to say. “Okay. First, no hurting me. Ever.” The pen moved immediately. “Agreed.” I exhaled, feeling a little more in control. “Second, if I say stop, you stop. Immediately.” The tentacle wrote, “Of course,” and I could almost feel the sincerity in its words. It was strange, how something so otherworldly could feel so… respectful.

I took a deep breath, my heart still racing, but now there was a strange confidence bubbling up inside me. “Third… I want to enjoy this. I want you to make me enjoy it.” The tentacle seemed to quiver, the ink pooling slightly on the page as it wrote, “I will.” I smiled, my body tingling with anticipation. “Good.” My voice was steadier now, a strange calm washing over me. “Then let’s do this.”

The tentacle set the pen down, and the others began to move, sliding toward me with a slow, deliberate grace. I lay back on the bed, my breathing shallow but steady. One tentacle brushed against my ankle, the skin warm and smooth, and I shivered. I felt a thrill run through me, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” The tentacles tightened slightly, their grip firm but not painful. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the moment, ready for whatever came next.

The first touch was electric, a jolt of sensation that ripped through me like a lightning strike. A tentacle slid up my leg, its texture smooth yet ridged in a way that sent sparks shooting through my nerves. Another coiled around my wrist, holding it firmly but gently, like it knew exactly how much pressure I could take. I gasped as a third pressed against my lips, and I opened my mouth instinctively, letting it slide inside. The taste was strange—salt and something sweet, like honey kissed by the sea—and the way it moved against my tongue, curling and pulsing, made me moan deep in my throat.

“Fuck,” I muttered around it, my voice muffled but thick with arousal. “You’re good at this.” The tentacle inside my mouth withdrew slightly, and I felt it vibrate, almost like it was laughing at me. My cheeks flushed, but I couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, don’t get cocky,” I teased, my voice trembling with both nerves and excitement. I realized, though, that with the tentacle in my mouth, I couldn’t actually say the safe word if I needed to. My heart skipped a beat, a flicker of panic rising in my chest. The tentacle seemed to sense my unease, sliding out of my mouth with a slow, deliberate motion and leaving a slick trail across my lips. One of the others reached for the notebook on my desk, the pen moving quickly across the page. I craned my neck to see what it was writing.

“I can hear your thoughts,” the words formed on the paper, the handwriting steady now, practiced. “If you form them into words, as if you were going to speak them, I will know.”

I blinked, my heart still racing but my panic easing slightly. “Really?” I asked, my voice shaky. The tentacle wrapped around the pen nodded—or at least, it did something that felt like a nod. I took a deep breath, trying to focus. Stop, I thought, as if I were going to say it aloud. The tentacles froze immediately, their movements ceasing as they hovered in the air. A warm feeling of reassurance washed over me, and I smiled. “Okay,” I said, my voice steadier now. “Good to know. Let’s keep going.”

The tentacles tightened around me once more, their grip firm but careful, as if they were testing the limits of my body. One slid beneath my shirt, the coolness of it making me gasp as it cupped my breast, the tip teasing my nipple until it was hard and aching. Another found its way between my legs, rubbing against me through my jeans, and I arched into the touch, my hips moving on their own. “Yeah,” I breathed, the word barely more than a whisper. “Just like that.”

The tentacle at my core pressed harder, grinding against me in slow, deliberate circles, and I groaned, my eyes fluttering shut. “Okay, okay, get these off,” I said, tugging at my jeans with my free hand. The tentacles obliged, their movements surprisingly dexterous as they peeled the fabric away, leaving me bare and exposed. Cool air hit my skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of the tentacles as they resumed their exploration.

One slid up my thigh, the tip brushing against my folds, and I shuddered, my breath catching in my chest. “Oh, fuck. That’s it. Right there.” The tentacle pressed inside me, slow and steady, its thickness stretching me in the most delicious way. I moaned, my head falling back against the pillow as it filled me, inch by inch. “Yes. Yes. Just like that.” Another tentacle found its way to my ass, and I tensed for a moment, then relaxed as it began to press inside. The sensation was overwhelming, my body stretched and filled in ways I’d never imagined. But it wasn’t just the physicality of it—it was the way they moved, the way they seemed to know exactly what I wanted, what I needed.

“Harder,” I gasped, my voice trembling with a mix of desperation and raw need. The words spilled out of me, barely coherent, as the tentacles inside me pulsed and writhed, their movements a symphony of sensation. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel everything.” The tentacles obeyed without hesitation, their rhythm intensifying, thrusting deeper and faster, each stroke sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me. I cried out, my nails clawing at the sheets, the fabric bunching in my fists as they worked me over, every inch of my body consumed by their writhing forms.

The pleasure built and built, a tidal wave cresting inside me, each wave higher and more intense than the last. My breath came in ragged gasps, my chest heaving as I teetered on the edge of something indescribable. “God, yes. Fill me up. Fill me. I want to feel you… everywhere.” My voice was thick with lust, the words tumbling out in a haze of need.

And then it happened. A wave of heat surged through me, white-hot and all-consuming, and I felt something release—a thick, warm liquid spilling inside me, filling me completely. My body convulsed, my back arching off the bed as the orgasm tore through me, ripping me apart and putting me back together all at once. I screamed, the sound raw and guttural, my vision going white as every nerve in my body lit up like a live wire. My muscles clenched and unclenched, my entire being consumed by the intensity of it, until I was left trembling, my body weak and pliant.

When I finally came back to myself, the tentacles were still, their grip gentle, almost tender. I lay there, panting, my body tingling with the aftershocks of what just happened. My skin felt hot, my limbs heavy, and my mind was a jumble of thoughts and sensations. “Holy shit,” I muttered, my voice hoarse and ragged. “That was… holy shit.”

The tentacle that had written in the notebook earlier reached out, brushing against my cheek in what felt like a caress. I smiled, still dazed, my lips curling into a lazy grin as I turned my head toward it. “Guess you’re a quick learner,” I said, my voice soft but filled with warmth. “You really know how to blow a girl’s mind.”

It wrote again, the letters shaky but clear, as if it were still trying to catch its breath too. “Thank you.”

I laughed, the sound shaky but genuine, a lightness bubbling up inside me. “No, thank you,” I said, my voice filled with gratitude and something else—something deeper. I reached out, tracing the edge of the portal with my fingers, the surface cool and smooth beneath my touch. “So… is this a one-time thing, or…” My voice trailed off, the question hanging in the air between us.

The tentacle hesitated, as if considering my words, then wrote, “Up to you.”

I grinned, the warmth in my belly spreading, a sense of excitement and anticipation building inside me. “Good,” I said, my voice low and sultry. “Because I think we’re just getting started.” The tentacles tightened around me again, their movements slow and deliberate, and I closed my eyes, ready for whatever came next. The night was far from over, and I couldn’t wait to see where this deliciously insane journey would take us.

A college co-ed's dorm room is invaded by a sentient tentacle portal that communicates through writing in a notebook. The two engage in rough, consensual sex with dirty talk, bondage, and tentacle penetration, with the portal filling all of her holes and impregnating her.

My Boyfriend Is A Tentacle Monster

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