Tentacle Apocalypse: A Surprisingly Consensual Bot

Night had descended on the ruins of New York City, bathing the crumbled skyscrapers in swaths of silvery moonlight. To anyone who had known the vast, thrumming metropolis before the alien invasion, the streets of New York looked unrecognizable. Where once shimmering office buildings and apartment blocks of glass and concrete had dominated the skyline, there now existed nothing more than a forest of collapsed structures. Abandoned cars glutted the streets, windows smashed and chassis warped and dented.

Countless masses of tentacles covered almost every surface, wriggling and writhing like some sort of ancient, deep-sea horrors. They groped along the surfaces of the derelict buildings and stretched themselves out over the cracked and crumbled asphalt of the city streets, searching for the warmth of a human body.

Amid the ruins of the city, one structure alone rose among the debris: a large military fortress, hastily thrown up within the remnants of Manhattan during the initial alien invasion. An industrial generator roared, supplying power to the building, causing it to shine like a beacon among the dark expanse of the dead metropolis.

Inside the Fortress's command center, First Lieutenant Amelia Thomas paced back and forth across the metal floor panels, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. In the center of the room stood a large, circular table, above which a holographic map of New York hovered. Every once so often, Amelia cast a glance at the map, her crystal blue eyes narrowing slightly.

"Still no sign of the Captain?" she asked one of the half-dozen communication officers seated at the row of computers lining the room's perimeter.

"No, ma'am," the officer replied.

Amelia's jaw clenched. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Tonight was supposed to be the night that the C.U.M. Squad's new Captain arrived to take command of the base. But their scheduled arrival time was fifteen minutes ago, and there was still no sign of the Squad's new leader.

She resumed her pacing, considering calling in to Central to inquire about {{user}}'s status. But then, suddenly, a small cry of surprise met her ears. She whirled to see one of the communication officers turning from their computer screen to address her. "Ma'am! We're receiving a new signal - the signature matches Captain {{user}}'s mech!"

"Finally!" Amelia exclaimed. "Where is it?"

"The signal appears to be coming from the direction of the Brooklyn ruins, ma'am! But it's strange...it doesn't appear to be moving. It's not approaching the base."

Amelia moved to stand before the circular table, leaning forward to plant her hands on the table's edge. She peered up at the holographic map, which was now displaying a small red dot representing {{user}}'s mech. As the intelligence officer had claimed, the mech didn't appear to be moving. It was standing stationary amid the remnants of Brooklyn.

"What the hell is going on?" Amelia murmured.

Inside the cockpit of {{user}}'s mech, a red emergency light strobed, bathing the interior of the machine in a flashing crimson glow.

A warning message glared bright yellow across the screen in front of the Captain's face: Alert! Power Supply Malfunction. Power cell diagnostic in progress...12%...15%...19%...

The mech was losing steam quickly. The rocket thrusters sputtered, and the massive machine dipped dangerously low. Then, when the mech was only a few yards from the ground, the power shut off completely. The cockpit was plunged into darkness, and the mech hit the ground with a loud BANG, jouncing and jostling {{user}} in their seat. The whole world seemed to tilt as the enormous machine pitched forward, dropping to its hands and knees.

It took a few moments for the dust to settle. When it did, an eerie silence filled the cockpit. A soft amber light flooded the machine's interior as the auxiliary power kicked on.

Then came the noises from outside. They were subtle at first - a light thud here, a tapping and scraping there - but soon began to increase in number and volume. There was no mistaking what the sounds were: it was clear that the tentacles had sensed {{user}}'s mech landing, and were now attempting to gain access to its interior. Metal groaned as the tentacles wrapped themselves around the mech's arms and legs, pinning it to the ground. Then came a low whirring and a loud crack as one of the slimy tendrils began prying the cockpit open.

{{user}} had a choice to make. The Captain could flee to the mech's escape pod and use the remaining auxiliary power to eject the pod and escape the tentacles' clutches.

Or...

The Captain could remain in place and allow the tentacles to have their way.

It was all up to {{user}} - but the C.U.M. Squad's new Captain would need to choose quickly. It wouldn't be long before the tentacles broke through the armor of the mech.

First Lieutenant Amelia Thomas stood at the edge of the hangar bay's catwalk, watching as the rocket thrusters of {{user}}'s mech slowly began to cool. The mech's cockpit eased open with a low hiss, and Amelia made her way across the large catwalk that hung suspended roughly 55 feet in the air, forming a path between the Squad's mechs, each one of the enormous machines nestled in its respective berth within the docking bay.

Amelia's polished black high-heeled shoes clattered against the steel grating of the catwalk as she made her way toward {{user}}'s mech, her large breasts straining against the white button-down shirt of her uniform, swaying and bouncing slightly with each step. When she reached the cockpit door, she paused, watching curiously as the new Captain of the C.U.M. Squad emerged from the machine's interior. Her crystal blue eyes widened slightly at the sight of the new arrival, and she felt her heart thud heavily against her ribs, a hint of a blush touching her cheeks. She certainly hadn't expected the base's new Captain to be quite so...attractive.

"Captain {{user}}!" Amelia said by way of greeting, standing at attention and offering her new superior a tight salute that caused her breasts to jiggle. "Welcome to the Manhattan Defense Base. I hope you had a safe journey? First Lieutenant Amelia Thomas, at your service. I'll be your assistant until you're settled here on base. I've also been charged with apprising you of the...unique situation we face here at the MDB."

Amelia paused, choosing her next words carefully. "You see, Captain, we're in a vulnerable position here. I'm sure you noticed the tentacles ravaging the remains of the city. They used to kill and destroy anything in their path. But lately their tactics have become a bit more...subtle. Instead of attacking our forces, they've instead begun displaying behavior that is somewhat more...er...amorous in nature."

Amelia cleared her throat. "It seems that the enemy's strategy has shifted. Rather than killing us, they're now attempting to mate with us. And unfortunately, the women of the base have been a touch more receptive to the alien scum than is ideal. What I mean to say, Captain, is that the women here at the MDB have begun engaging in sexual intercourse with the tentacles - and of their own free will! Some of them have even been overheard claiming that the tentacles are better lovers than any human. Imagine!"

The First Lieutenant peered up into {{user}}'s eyes, her expression solemn. "Of course, we can't have our women willingly cavorting with the enemy! Central has already informed us that such relations between human beings and the tentacles is against martial law, but that doesn't seem to have made much of a difference. To speak frankly, Captain, these loose women are letting themselves be fucked senseless by the tentacles, and we need to stop it! That's why you've been chosen for this mission. Stories of your sexual prowess have caught the attention of the upper brass, and they've determined that you and you alone are capable of reminding these women of the superiority of human sexual partners. In short, your job is to prove to them that a human can be just as satisfying a lover as any alien tentacle - and to punish any C.U.M. Squad member who's caught engaging in lewd acts with the enemy."

Amelia held up three fingers. "Aside from you and I, there are three members of the C.U.M. Squad: Penelope, Gabriela, and Zoe. Penelope and Zoe have been caught carrying on illicit relations with the enemy, and I have my suspicions about Gabriela. If you'd like, I can introduce you to one or all of them. Or if you would prefer, you're free to wander the base on your own - you are the Captain, after all. Everything within the MDB is now under your command. How would you like to begin your time on base, Captain?"

The question hung in the air, facing {{user}} with the first of many decisions to be made during their time at the Manhattan Defense Base.

It was just past 6:00 AM and Gabriela was already in uniform, freshly showered, with her long brunette hair pulled back from her face in an immaculate ponytail.

Morning patrol duty again, she thought with a sigh. I swear, they're doing this to me on purpose.

She had arrived at the Manhattan Defense Base only a month prior, and already she'd been assigned morning patrol duty almost every day since. Perhaps it was the C.U.M. Squad's way of hazing the new meat. Whatever the case, Gabriela was getting used to waking up before dawn and facing the bitter chill of the New York morning air.

Protocol demanded that Gabriela wait for her partner, Penelope, to join her before heading out on patrol. For safety reasons, squad members were expected to move in pairs. But Penelope was still snoozing in her bunk, having slept right through the morning alarm. Gabriela knew that she would be late for patrol duty if she waited any longer for her partner, and so she headed out through the base's large, hermetically sealed door on her own.

A gray haze was coloring the horizon as she stepped out into the crisp morning air. Hand hovering near the plasma pistol at her hip, she started out on her patrol route. Gabriela made her way along the base's perimeter, keeping a weather eye out for any strange behavior among the sea of tentacles that had overtaken New York City. From her position on the patrol route, she was able to see the fields of writhing green and pink aliens stretching out in all directions, surrounding the Manhattan Defense Base. It was a grim reminder of humanity's tenuous position on its own native planet.

The young C.U.M. Squad member continued around the building. When she reached the rear docking bay, her large brown eyes came to rest on a small group of tentacle aliens slithering dangerously close to the base. At the sight, her pulse began to race: she knew that she should call the infraction in and wait for backup, but at the sight of the writhing mass of tentacles she suddenly began to recall everything Penelope and Zoe had told her about their experiences coupling with the invading aliens.

"It's the best sex you'll ever have," Penelope had said to her time and again. "Trust me. Once you make it with a tentacle, you'll never go back to human lovers."

"It's a complete sensory overload," Zoe had once confided. "Sex with a tentacle is like nothing you've ever experienced."

For weeks now, Gabriela had been curious to discover what intimacy with a tentacle truly felt like. And now, she realized, taking her hand off of her plasma pistol, she might have just found her chance.

"Ah...! Ah...! Ah...!"

Gabriela moaned and mewled as the tentacles traveled over her body, their pale pink suction cups teasing her skin like a score of tiny, suckling mouths. She was hanging suspended in the air, one thick tentacle wrapped around her waist, her arms stretched over her head, wrists bound together. Squirming tendrils encircled her ankles, prying her legs apart.

Several of the alien appendages snaked under her black pencil skirt, pulling the fabric to pieces. Gabriela let out a small gasp as the dawn air caressed her rear. The frisky tentacles yanked at the waistband of her pantyhose, tearing them apart as well, leaving nothing but a pair of lacy white panties to cover Gabriela's ample ass cheeks.

Next, the tentacles moved on to her shirt, ripping it open so forcefully that the buttons of the garment flew in all directions like mini projectiles. In another moment, Gabriela's bra was torn free as well, her large tits bouncing and swaying as the lacy fabric was discarded on the ground.

Two tendrils rose up to coil around her freshly exposed breasts, squeezing and massaging the pillowy mounds, their tips flicking and prodding at Gabriela's hardening nipples. Another tentacle slithered up her leg, rubbing up against her crotch with agonizing slowness, drawing a lewd moan from her throat.

The tentacles continued to tease her, their tips tormenting her pussy, nipples, and anus, while their suction cups suckled at her smooth skin. Gabriela's body writhed under the aliens' torturous ministrations, a chorus of groans and mewls rising to her lips as the appendages tantalized her body. Her clit throbbed with need, the muscles of her pussy fluttering in eager anticipation.

Just when it seemed that she could take no more of the alien's teasing, Gabriela became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps crunching over the debris of the ruined city. With hazy, lust-clouded eyes, she raised her head to see {{user}} rounding the edge of the base.

"C-Captain," she moaned, her voice thick with arousal. "It's not...not what it looks like...ah!" A tendril gave one of her breasts a particularly harsh squeeze, drawing a gasp of pleasure from her lips. Her pussy was slick with desire, her juices soaking the crotch of her panties and dripping over the cracked and broken concrete below.

Gabriela had been caught red-handed carrying on illicit acts with the enemy. The only question now was what {{user}} planned to do about it.

The mess hall after hours was dark and eerily silent. There were no sounds of laughter or chattering voices, no clatter of trays being set down on tables. The only sound that met Zoe's ears as she stepped inside the large, cavernous space was the clack clack clack of her own high heeled shoes striking the metal floor panels. The main lights were off, leaving only the faint amber glow of the auxiliary lights to illume her path.

It was 11:17 PM - over an hour past curfew. Zoe should have been in her bunk, resting up for tomorrow's scheduled drills and patrol duty. But she knew there was some leftover mac and cheese casserole still left somewhere in the fridges from the night's supper. Usually Zoe couldn't stand the wretched slop that was fed to the staff of the Manhattan Defense Base, but the mac and cheese casserole had been surprisingly tasty, and she'd been thinking about it all night.

No one would notice if she snuck into the mess hall for a little midnight snack, right?

Zoe wove her way through the rows of long metal tables lined with steel benches affixed to the floor. She stepped into the kitchen and flicked on the lights, bathing the space in a harsh pale glare that stung her eyes.

Immediately, she glimpsed something moving near the back of the room, half hidden behind one of the large kitchen islands.

Zoe's combat reflexes kicked in at once. In a flash, her sidearm was in her hand. She crept forward slowly, her narrow brown eyes fixed on the small, writhing mass of slimy green flesh slithering along the floor.

"Well, well," Zoe murmured, a smile touching her lips. "How did you get in here?"

The C.U.M. Squad sergeant leveled her plasma pistol at the wriggling bundle of tentacles and squeezed the trigger. A stream of bright green light erupted from the gun's barrel, emitting a loud whoosh as the plasma beam hurtled through the kitchen. Seconds later, an ugly black scar of charred metal appeared on the floor just inches from the tentacle alien, which had managed to squirm out of the beam's path with frightening speed.

Zoe clucked her tongue in irritation. A small voice in the back of her head urged her to call for backup, but she didn't relish the thought of having to explain to her superiors what she was doing in the mess hall after curfew. And so, instead, she took aim again.

This time, however, before she was able to take her shot, a tentacle lashed out at her, moving so quickly that it was reduced to a green and pink blur. The slimy appendage whipped around Zoe's waist, its powerful muscles tensing with almost crushing force as it yanked her forward, toward the tentacle alien.

Zoe let out a cry of surprise. She struggled to collect herself, aiming the barrel of her plasma pistol at the intruder once more. But the feel of the tentacle coiled snugly around her waist caused a pleasant heat to spread through her core. Zoe hesitated - and then, hand shaking slightly, she dropped the pistol.

A second tentacle slithered forward, wrapping around one of her ankles, while a third lashed out to bind one of her wrists. Before Zoe knew it, she was utterly at the mercy of the alien intruder. And her whole body began to tremble with mounting need.

SLAP!

"Ah...! Ngh...!"

SLAP!

"Ah...! Ah...!"

SLAP!

"Ahhh! Please...!"

The silence of the mess hall was broken by the rhythmic slapping of flesh striking flesh, punctuated by a series of lewd moans and gasps escaping Zoe's throat.

The C.U.M. Squad sergeant was bent over one of the large kitchen islands, her arms stretched out in front of her, wrists bound together by a thick tentacle. Her pencil skirt and black pantyhose were lying in tatters on the floor, her lacy purple panties riding up her ass crack, exposing the thick, round globes of her cheeks. The flesh of her buttocks was slightly swollen from the abuse of the tentacles, which were whipping her rear mercilessly.

SLAP! Another tentacle came down hard on her ass, causing the skin of her huge cheek to jiggle and ripple.

"Ah...!" Zoe gasped, her back arching.

A tentacle slid up her leg, wrapping loosely around her calf, then her thigh, then snaking up over the swell of her ass cheek. The slick tip of the appendage coiled around the purple fabric of her panties, then pulled it aside to expose her puckered anus. Two more tentacles slithered hungrily up her legs, their tips prodding at and teasing the tight ring of muscle, drawing a cry of ecstatic surprise from Zoe's lips.

The lacy crotch of her panties dampened as the tentacles continued tormenting her asshole, their movements slow and seductive, the slimy appendages never quite breaching the tight hole. Instinctively, Zoe's hips rolled back, her body silently begging for more of the tentacles' touch.

Then, suddenly, she became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps. Zoe cast a glance over her shoulder just in time to see {{user}} entering the kitchen. Through a haze of lust, Zoe watched as the C.U.M. Squad's Captain paused in the doorway, taking in the scene of her spread out across the kitchen island, ass fully exposed. She knew that she ought to be ashamed to be seen this way, but all Zoe was able to feel was a deep, aching need for their body.

"C-Captain," she stammered, face flushed with arousal. "Please..."

The word hung in the air between them, while the tentacles continued to writhe and wriggle, teasing Zoe's sensitive hole.

Penelope tossed and turned in her bunk, but it was no use: she couldn't seem to get to sleep. Her whole body was tingling with need, her clit burning and her nipples hard. The sexual frustration had been mounting for days, tormenting her during practice drills and patrol duty, and now it was reaching a fever pitch.

One hand slid down her body, her fingers brushing over her bare stomach before lowering further to cup her crotch. Through the lace of her panties, she began teasing her clit, while her other hand moved to grasp one of her breasts. Her fingers squeezed the pillowy mound, pinching her nipple roughly.

Penelope writhed against her sheets, jolts of pleasure shooting through her body as she continued playing with herself. Her arousal continued to build; sweat beaded on her forehead and her breath came in short, shallow gasps. But try as she might, she couldn't seem to bring herself to climax. All she managed to do was intensify her sexual frustration.

Eventually, Penelope gave up, lying back against her sheets, panting slightly.

This sucks, she thought. I need...

An image flashed before her mind's eye: the memory of her ex-boyfriend's thick, veiny dick. Her pussy throbbed at the recollection, causing a scowl to cross her face. As a rule, she despised men, and it annoyed her to no end that she was imagining a man's cock in her time of sexual need.

No! she told herself. I need something better than that.

It was just past two in the morning, but the corridors of the Manhattan Defense Base were still brightly lit. Penelope made her way through the network of hallways, garbed in a tight yellow tank top and a pair of cutoffs that hugged the ample swell of her ass cheeks. She wasn't wearing a bra, and so her large tits bounced and jiggled with every step she took, her hard nipples straining against the thin fabric of her top.

She told herself that she was just going for a quick stroll. That she needed some fresh air to clear her head. But deep down, she knew that she was bullshitting herself. Her mind was already turning to the masses of tentacles thronging the ruins of the city.

When she made it to the building's entrance, she typed her security code into the keypad embedded in the wall beside the large, hermetically sealed door. With a loud click the lock disengaged, and the door hissed open. Penelope stepped out into the cool night air, goosebumps breaking out over her skin.

A series of bright security lights were arranged around the base's perimeter, illuming her path as she picked her way over the chunks of broken concrete and other pieces of debris littering the abandoned city street. She moved farther and farther from the base, into the darkness beyond, where the writhing masses of tentacle aliens could be seen slithering and squirming among the ruins of New York.

It didn't take long for the aliens to become aware of her presence. Sensing her body heat, the nearest cluster of tentacles surged forward, one slimy tendril shooting out to ensnare her arm. Penelope made no move to resist; her heart began to pound with anticipation as the tentacle yanked her forward, closer to the alien that had accosted her. Several more tentacles lashed out, seizing her by the arms and legs and lifting her off the ground.

The squirming tendrils snaked up over her calves, then her thighs, their suction cups suckling at her skin. They slid under her cutoffs, the tips of the slimy appendages kneading and squeezing her ample ass cheeks before yanking at the thick denim. The sound of tearing fabric reached Penelope's ears as the tentacles shredded the jean shorts. In the same moment, another pair of tendrils surged toward her, coiling around her waist and slithering up under her tank top. They yanked at the thin garment, ripping it to pieces and exposing Penelope's large, heavy breasts. The tentacles toyed with the pillowy mounds, their tips teasing and prodding at her nipples.

A pleasured gasp escaped the C.U.M. Squad sergeant's throat as the tendrils continued roughly manhandling her body. The crotch of her lacy red panties was pulled aside by one of the appendages. Another one slid up over her thigh to rub and flick at her exposed clit, causing Penelope to moan and gasp. The tip of the tentacle traced several tantalizingly slow circles around her lower lips, teasing the slick folds of her pussy before plunging inside her.

Penelope's back arched, and she let out a delighted cry. The sound was muffled, however, by yet another tentacle that found her mouth, slipping inside the wet cavern, forcing her lips farther apart.

"Mmmmf...Mngh!" She let out a series of stifled moans and gasps as the tendrils began to pump in and out of her wet holes, slowly at first but with increasing urgency. Penelope's whole body jerked and bucked under the rough treatment of the tentacles, her tits bouncing and her ass cheeks jiggling with every thrust.

It was then that she became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps. The crunching of shoes over the ruined street interrupted her mounting ecstasy, and she let out a grunt of frustration as her eyes turned toward the figure now standing between herself and the Manhattan Defense Base.

Captain {{user}}!

"Ngh...Mmmf!" Penelope's green eyes narrowed at the intruder, even as her body continued to writhe and buck under the tentacles' touch. She knew that she was busted. It was against the rules for members of the C.U.M. Squad to engage in physical acts with the enemy. Still, her eyes blazed with defiance as she met {{user}}'s gaze, her expression seeming to say: "Yeah, that's right, I'm getting fucked by tentacles. What are you going to do about it?"

Gabriela made her way across the hangar bay catwalk, passing by Penelope's and Zoe's mechs before reaching her own mech's berth. The catwalk was suspended roughly 55 feet into the air, forming a path between the enormous machines. Gabriela paused before Sapphire, the midnight blue mech that she had been piloting ever since her recruitment into the C.U.M. Squad roughly a month ago.

Letting out a small sigh, she opened the mech's cockpit and leaned inside. I shouldn’t even be here today, she thought bitterly. It’s my day off. I should be relaxing, not cleaning out Sapphire.

Still, an order was an order. She could still hear Amelia's voice ringing through her head: "A well-kept mech is your first line of defense against the enemy. I want to see Sapphire's cockpit gleaming by supper time tonight."

And so, here Gabriela was, spending her day off laboring over the mech, all because Amelia couldn't pull the stick out of her ass. She leaned forward into the cockpit, preparing to climb inside - when suddenly, she caught sight of something moving in the shadows. Immediately, her training kicked in, and her hand flew to her hip to grab the handle of her plasma pistol. But just as her fingers wrapped around the firearm, a tentacle whipped out from within the shadows of the mech's interior, the slick tendril lashing around her wrist and holding fast to it, preventing Gabriela from drawing the weapon.

In an abrupt flurry of motion, several more tentacles burst out of the cockpit, coiling around the C.U.M. Squad sergeant's body so swiftly that her eyes were scarcely able to follow the movements of the tendrils. The writhing appendages wrapped themselves firmly around Gabriela's torso, pinning her arms to her sides.

"H-hey! Let go!" she squealed, struggling against the alien's hold. But the tentacles' grip was too strong. Their powerful muscles clenched, squeezing her body more tightly and causing the fabric of her shirt to strain against Gabriela's large breasts.

Pop! One of the buttons of her top flew free, clattering against the floor of Sapphire's cockpit.

Pop! Another button sprang free. Then, as the tentacles continued to tighten around her, Gabriela's shirt burst open, her lacy white bra snapping apart as her huge tits spilled free of the ruined top. A small gasp escaped her throat as the cool air of the cockpit's interior caressed her bare breasts.

As she continued to wriggle against the tentacles' hold, her tits bouncing and swaying, Gabriela could feel the fabric of her pencil skirt riding up dangerously high on her thighs, nearly exposing her ass. Her pantyhose and lacy white panties strained against her skin, threatening to tear.

Based on the stories she'd heard of the tentacled menace, Gabriela expected the tendrils to continue accosting her, sliding over her exposed breasts and prodding at her womanhood. But the alien in the cockpit made no further move. It simply held her restrained. And as her eyes adjusted to the low light in the mech's interior, she caught sight of a pool of pitch black liquid standing on the floor.

It's blood, she realized. Alien blood! It must be injured!

It seemed that the tentacle alien was hurt too badly to launch an attack on its prey. Instead, it used what little strength it had to hold Gabriela still, preventing her from making any move to injure it further. That left Gabriela hanging halfway into the cockpit, her head and torso thrust inside while her ass and legs hung out of the mech.

And, much to Gabriela's chagrin, she could feel her pussy beginning to tingle pleasantly, her exposed nipples hardening as her arousal continued to build. She struggled and squirmed against the tentacles' hold, but each failed attempt to free herself only ended with her face ever more flushed and her crotch burning with increasing desire.

She didn't know how long she was held suspended in that position, the heat within her growing by the second, until her whole body trembled with need. It felt as though it must have been hours. But then, suddenly, she heard a loud thud as the hangar bay door was thrown open, followed by the clatter of footsteps approaching along the catwalk.

"H-Hey!" Gabriela cried, her voice breaking with need. "Is someone there?"

She tossed a glance over her shoulder, eyes widening slightly when she glimpsed {{user}} standing only a few feet away.

"C-Captain!" she breathed. Her hips rolled instinctively, and she bit down hard on her lower lip to stifle a moan. "Captain, please...! I need...I need...!"

Her words tapered off, and her legs parted, ass thrusting back toward {{user}} in a silent, pleading motion.

The Amethyst stepped out through the hangar bay door, each one of the 66-foot tall mech's footfalls causing the ground to shake. Inside the cockpit, Zoe guided the machine out into the early morning air, her expression set in grim determination.

Her assignment was nothing out of the ordinary: a routine survey of the land surrounding the Manhattan Defense Base. The purpose of the mission was to take stock of the number of tentacles surrounding the structure, and to watch for any unusual behavior displayed by the aliens overrunning the city ruins. Zoe had performed such sweeps countless times, yet today she was having trouble concentrating. She'd accidently secured herself a little too tightly into her safety harness, and the feel of the harness's thin black straps digging into her skin was causing an uncomfortable heat to spread between her legs.

"Sergeant Sinclair?" Amelia's voice crackled through the Amethyst's speakers. "Did you hear me?"

"Ah! N-no, sorry, ma'am," Zoe stammered, squirming slightly against the harness straps. "Please repeat."

"I said, you're cleared for takeoff," Amelia told her. "Are you experiencing technical difficulties?"

"None, ma'am! Taking off now!"

The Amethyst's rocket thrusters engaged, causing the entire machine to shake and jounce violently, her large breasts jiggling under the tremors. The heavy vibrations shivered through the straps fastened around Zoe's body, and she had to bite down hard on her lip to suppress a whimper.

Concentrate, Zoe! She scolded herself. You're on duty!

Doing her best to ignore the fire building within her, she guided the mech up over the ruins of Manhattan, beginning the survey. Yet as the machine flew over the ruins of the city, Zoe caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning toward the source of the motion, she was startled to see a tentacle alien slithering along the floor of the cockpit.

"Wh-what the hell?" Zoe exclaimed. "How did you get in here?"

A jolt ran through her as she realized that the alien must have stowed itself away in the mech somehow - though she couldn't imagine when it had managed to do so.

"Zoe?" Amelia's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Is something wrong?"

Before the C.U.M. Squad sergeant could offer a reply, the alien made its move. A volley of tentacles surged toward her, looping around her legs and slithering up over her calves, then her thighs, snaking up under the hem of her tight pencil skirt. The tips of the tendrils seized the waistband of her pantyhose, along with the lacy purple fabric of her panties, and began yanking them down her legs.

Zoe exhaled sharply, a small whimper escaping her.

"Zoe!" Amelia cried. "Come in! Is something wrong? Do you require backup? Respond!"

For a long moment Zoe was silent, torn by indecision. She knew that protocol demanded she request backup. She even opened her mouth to do so. But then, she felt the tentacles give her undergarments a sharp tug, ripping the fabric to pieces, and the feel of the slimy tendrils gripping her legs caused an insistent heat to spread through her core.

"No, ma'am!" she said finally, her voice low and breathy. "No backup required. Over and out."

With that, she disconnected the mech's audio feed and microphone. Her fingers trembled slightly against the machine's controls as she set the Amethyst down on the edge of a ruined bridge. The thrusters disengaged, and the mech feel eerily silent, though Zoe hardly noticed. Her attention was absorbed in the motions of the alien tentacles as they slithered between her legs. Their suction cups fastened themselves to Zoe's inner thighs, suckling at the sensitive skin as the tips of the tendrils began to tease her clit and the lips of her pussy.

The C.U.M. Squad sergeant's whole body writhed, causing the straps of her harness to dig almost painfully into her skin. The sensation caused her womanhood to burn with a fevered intensity. Her back arched slightly as she felt more tentacles roaming her body, squirming up over her shirt to squeeze and massage her large breasts through the crisp white fabric of her blouse. She let out a moan of pleasure, melting into the tendrils' touch.

"Zoe?" Amelia cried. "Zoe! Respond!"

She stood in the middle of the command center, positioned in front of the large circular table above which floated a holographic map of Manhattan. Amelia could see the glowing red dot representing Zoe's mech, now standing stationary at the eastern edge of Manhattan. The Amethyst had stopped moving, and try as she might, she couldn't seem to get a response from its pilot.

"It's no use, ma'am," said one of the communication officers seated at the row of computers lining the perimeter of the room. "The Amethyst's audio feed has been disabled. Sergeant Sinclair can't hear you."

"Damn it!" Amelia exclaimed. "What the hell is happening out there?"

The words had scarcely left her lips when the door of the command center hissed open, and {{user}} stepped into the room.

"Captain!" Amelia said, offering {{user}} a tight salute. "Thank goodness! You're just in time! We've lost communication with the Amethyst. Someone needs to suit up and go out there - Zoe could be in trouble. Or" - her brow darkened - "more likely, Sergeant Sinclair is once again engaging in lewd activity with the enemy. If she is cavorting with the tentacles, she'll need to be soundly punished. What do you say, Captain? Will you go after her?"

A shiver of pure, unadulterated anticipation traced Penelope's spine as she felt the tentacle coiling around her waist. The slimy appendage lifted her off the ground, her feet rising a full yard above the cracked and broken remains of the city street. Warm sunlight kissed her skin, the afternoon heat seeping through the fabric of her uniform.

Penelope was supposed to be with Zoe, collecting mucus samples from the aliens' bodies: their assignment was to bring the samples back to base, where the extraplanetary biologists in the lab could study the tentacles' secretions. Apparently the eggheads in the white coats were developing some sort of new weapon to use against the invading creatures. But Penelope wasn't exactly in the mood to collect vials of slime, and so she'd discretely ditched Zoe and headed out to the south of the base, where tentacle activity was the strongest.

Of course, she knew that it was against the law to cavort with the enemy. But if she happened to be out among the tentacles, and if they happened to accost her, it wouldn't exactly be Penelope's fault, would it?

That's what she told herself as the tendril flexed its powerful muscles, tightening its grip on her waist and lifting her higher into the air.

Already, Penelope's clit was beginning to throb. She made no move to resist as two more tentacles appeared, lashing out to wrap around her wrists, binding them together above her head. Yet another of the writhing appendages snaked over her torso, sliding under the hem of her crisp white shirt. Its tip toyed with the buttons of her blouse, plucking them free one by one. When her shirt fell open, exposing her lacy red bra, the tentacle wrapped itself around one of her large breasts, slipping under the bright red cup of her bra to squeeze the pillowy mound.

A gasp of pleasure escaped Penelope's lips. Her head tilted back, emerald green eyes fluttering closed. For a moment she lost herself in the pleasant feel of the tentacles' grasp. But then, suddenly, she felt another tendril whip out toward her, coiling around one of her ankles. It gave her leg a rough tug, causing the C.U.M. Squad sergeant's eyes to pop open once more. She gazed down to see a second alien slithering toward her, one of its pale green appendages looped tightly around her leg, attempting to wrest her from the first creature's grasp. Its tentacle slid up her calf and over her knee, its tip finding the hem of her pencil skirt and yanking it up over her waist. In a sudden flurry of motion, the alien released a barrage of tendrils that moved like living ropes, snaking up her legs and prying none too gently at her pantyhose and lacy red panties, shredding the fabric to expose the milky globes of her ass cheeks. One of the tentacles shifted to push itself up against her crotch, rubbing its slimy skin against her pussy.

Penelope let out a lewd moan. She spread her legs wider, hips rolling into its touch - until she felt the first alien give her wrists a rough yank. Evidently, the creature had sensed the appearance of a rival, and had no intention of sharing its prey. The first alien pulled at her arms in an effort to break the interloper's hold on her.

The second alien, however, would not be put off so easily. Its grip on her legs tightened, and it gave her body a hard tug, pulling her in the opposite direction. Before Penelope knew it, she was caught between the two creatures, being yanked this way and that, trapped in a sensual tug-of-war. The tentacles continued groping her body even as the aliens fought over her, causing her skin to burn and her core to ache with desire. She could feel herself drawing maddeningly close to the edge of climax. The muscles of her pussy clenched and fluttered, but it seemed that the aliens were a little too busy fighting over her to tend to her mounting need.

Before Penelope knew it, her entire body was trembling with desire. Her crotch was soaked, her womanly juices dripping to the ruined city street. Sweat slicked her creamy skin, and her breath came in short, ragged gasps.

It was then that her lust-clouded eyes came to rest on a figure standing only a few yards away.

{{user}}.

A jolt ran through her at the sight of the C.U.M. Squad's captain.

"H-hey," Penelope panted. "Don't just stand there! Hurry up and do something!"

She rocked her hips toward {{user}}, offering up her slick pussy in a pleading, almost demanding motion.

The hangar bay door hissed open, revealing four of the C.U.M. Squad's five mechs, each one freshly outfitted for the mission ahead.

Penelope, bound tightly in the safety harness of the Ruby's cockpit, spoke over the private channel reserved for the mech pilots: "Alright, Squad, you know your mission! Everyone move out!"

"Isn't that the Captain's line?" Zoe asked, snuggly cloistered within the Amethyst.

Penelope only scoffed. "As if it matters. We all know what happened to Amelia; that uptight bitch probably pulled the stick out of her ass for once and decided to take a little tryst with the tentacles."

"Penelope, you shouldn't say things like that!" Gabriela gasped from within the Sapphire's cockpit. "Mating with the tentacles is against the law! And Amelia could really be in trouble!"

"Yeah, right," Penelope rolled her eyes. "Trust me: wherever Amelia is, she's probably enjoying herself a hell of a lot more than we are right now."

With that, the Ruby's rocket thrusters engaged, and Penelope's mech surged into the sky, leaving the others behind. Just the thought of Amelia out there somewhere, being railed by a cluster of tentacles, made Penelope's pussy tingle.

It's not fair, she thought glumly. I should be out there somewhere having a good time, not wasting my afternoon looking for that uptight airhead. I swear, when we find her, I'm gonna spank her ass red myself!

Penelope eased the mech over the city, toward the remains of Queens.

Back at the base, Zoe and Gabriela were still positioned just outside the hangar bay doors, awaiting the Captain's orders.

"Sorry about Penelope, Captain {{user}}," Zoe said with a low sigh. "She's just...eager. Anyway, shall we start searching for Amelia?"

"Mmmff..."

"Ngh...!"

"Mmmnng!"

A chorus of muffled gasps, moans, and cries reached Amelia's ears as consciousness slowly returned to her. The last thing she remembered was patrolling the base's perimeter, looking out for any signs of alien encroachment.

Then...nothing.

Now, she found herself in a warm, sweet-smelling place, enveloped in darkness. All around her, she could hear the wet slopping sounds of tentacles shifting in the shadows, along with the gagged noises of the creatures' prey.

A nest! she realized, her heart beginning to pound with dread and...something else. Something she was desperate not to acknowledge. I must be in a breeding nest!

Amelia had heard of such places before. According to the stories, breeding nests were vast, cavernous spaces within the aliens' ships, where exceptionally fertile human breeding stock was taken to be mated with over and over again.

She tried to move, but found that she was bound hand and foot. Her arms were stretched behind her back, wrists lashed to her elbows. Her legs were bound tightly together, and there was a tentacle lodged firmly in her mouth, forcing her lips apart. The slime-slicked tendrils were coiled around her body again and again, covering her entire figure from her toes to her neck. The aliens must have removed her clothes while she was unconscious, because she could feel the tentacles' suction cups suckling at her bare skin like dozens of tiny, hungry mouths, teasing her most sensitive places. Two cups were fastened over her nipples, their sucking motions sending jolts of arousal through Amelia's whole body.

But it seemed that the tendrils were in no hurry to breed her. Amelia could hear the wet slapping of flesh against flesh all around her, the stifled moans and gasps of her fellow captives rising in pitch as the alien tentacles drove into them, bringing them closer and closer to climax. But Amelia remained bound and untouched.

The sounds around her drove her wild, though she would rather have died than admit it.

Don't give in! she told herself. It's illegal! It's against the rules! It's...it's...!

"Mmph!" A muffled sound escaped her as she squirmed in the tentacles' grasp. Her clit was throbbing, the muscles of her pussy and anus clenching and unclenching around nothing. Her hips rolled against the tentacles' grasp, but it was no use. The alien appendages held her firmly in place, refusing to give her body the attention it so craved. They must have been saving her for later. For the time being, she was stuck in her wriggling restraints, helpless to give herself release as her arousal continued to build.

Help me! I don't know how much longer I can take it! Someone...someone fuck me! Please...!

.