Chapter 0 - 1

'Twas the night of the solstice, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. But the door to the cellar swung wide without care, the land bathed in a blood moon’s glare. A young woman busied herself out of her bed, as visions of victory danced in her head. A candle glowed near each hewed granite wall of the stuffy old cellar where the outer ones called. 


Biting her lip in anticipation, Delilah held her breath in excitement as the arduous task of inscriptions began to draw to a close. She could have taken the easy route, drawn the runes in simple materials - paint, or chalk even. But she was a dedicated student of the craft, and had settled for nothing less than the absolute best. Dust hung in the air, her hands and arms sore and somewhat bloodied from the hours of chiseling she had done. It had not been enough to merely carve the necessary glyphs into the rock - she had pulverized some of the stone and mixed it with the blood of a strong goat, pressing the resulting paste into the impressions in the stone. Such extensive preparation was rare, but it had been clearly stated in every manuscript - if access to the original old stones themselves was unavailable, this alternative method was the second best option. But at last, as she pressed the last of the stone and goat’s blood into the crevice in the rock, she leaned back, a sigh of relief and escaping her. 


She did not dally long though, and soon stood, bustling over to a small table dimly lit by a faltering electric lamp. Haphazardly strewn about its surface were all manner of strange and exotic paraphernalia. Jars stacked high in the corner wherein floated various organs. Dishes almost overflowed with finely mixed chemicals, and the essential salts of myriad creatures mundane and otherworldly. She had almost everything she needed, and she excitedly rushed over to another table, mixing together the last ingredients - the runes had been correctly drawn, all the essential salts, dried organs, and stranger components placed in the appropriate locations. She held in her hand the fuel to kickstart the ritual - all she needed now was a spark, a catalyst. The ritual needed some sort of living essence of this plane to begin the reaction, and she had just such an ingredient coursing through her veins. Of course, if the old tomes were to be believed - there was yet another benefit to using her own blood, the being in question would ostensibly recognize her. Any harm it might bring she would be shielded from. In theory, the thing she would summon would view her… if not as friendly, then neutral. There was always some element of risk when dealing with such forces, but it was something she had come to accept by this point.

Delilah pushed the potential danger to the back of her mind, busying herself with finalizing the summoning. The last bowls of ingredients she placed in the corresponding circles, priming the figure with small traces of the materials leading to each other. This was the moment she’d been waiting for - ten years since they’d laughed her out. Ten years, eight months, and twenty two days since a lifetime of work and study had been callously dismissed by small minded men of ‘science’. She would show them, she would show them all who was the true fool. Unspeakable things littered her floor, things bartered for and summoned from eldritch planes beyond the sphere of mortal ken. Things that might drive a lesser mind simply to behold, even detached from their owners as they were. Everything was ready, she had been preparing for this moment for seven of those years. Everything called for had been gathered down to the last minute detail - even the stranger items - various animal testicles among them. Delilah had long ago given up hope on trying to understand the vague intricacies of eons old rituals - the ancient tomes had never lied before. 


Even so, she took precautions - a heavy leather coat, worn and tattered from decades of use served as her principle means of defense. Intricate silver wire, stitched through the thick material spelled out old runes of warding, sigils from times and planes of existence long dead. Ancient, forgotten hands had first carved these symbols into the granite stones of the earth’s olden days, and scholars of the weird had kept the knowledge alive throughout the ages. They were far from a perfect defense - many an overconfident occultist had met an untimely end when, in their folly, they had brought forth that which they could not put down. Delilah was intent upon not repeating their mistakes. The heavy revolver on her table was one such measure, the tanks of jellied gasoline and sticks of dynamite were another. The risks were great, but so too were the rewards. 

Preparations complete, she made her way to her position in front of the circle. With one tremulous hand she drew a small, sharp knife, holding the other hand aloft over the focal point. With a deep breath, she pulled the blade along her palm, deep crimson welling from the cut and flowing into the mixture below. She could feel it, it was primed and ready. The air almost vibrated around her, and she knew it was time. Falling to her knees, she placed her palms in by the circle, uttering words of old, forbidden elder tongues. For what seemed to be hours to her she chanted, frozen in a trance as she felt the distance between worlds closing, dark tendrils of other planes of existence snaking towards the summoning, towards her. Rats scurried within the walls, panic-stricken squeaking signalling their desperate flight, outside, an owl took wing in escape. The primitive beasts of the earth mad in their desperation to flee the unnatural thing occurring within their midst. 


As her chanting continued, an eerie howl of primordial wind filled her ears, and she looked up to see the circle aglow with a sickening red light. The piles of materials seemed to liquify, flowing to the center in an unholy river where they began to coalesce, forming a dark… thing. She continued, not breaking in her chanting for a moment as the thing began to take form. A gentle, pulsing violet light seemed to be growing within it, and Delilah could barely suppress a scream of triumph - any error now and the ritual could fail utterly, death or worse might await her. 


The winds picked up, invisible and immaterial, but they buffeted her all the same, and she heard her voice almost drowned out in its ceaseless howling. The thing in the center of the room grew further, taking on the beginnings of a shape, sicking squelches and other noises accompanying it as, slowly, it pulled itself from the other planes, taking on a hideous life of its own. She could discern distinct features now - tentacles, a mouth, what could only be described as legs, amorphous polyps that soon revealed themselves to be eyes too numerous to count. The deafening scream of the gale reached a mind numbing crescendo, and Delilah almost felt as though she might black out from it all. 


She drew breath, bellowing the final words of the ritual into the yawning abyss that stood before her very soul, horrid, eldritch words that seemed to burn the very air as they were uttered. Every syllable wretched in the extreme, seeming to push away the natural light of the world and usher in the darkness that beckoned beyond. Delilah embraced in, stood before it, and held her ground. 


With a final, climactic shriek the wind ceased, the door between worlds closed. An eerie calm descended on the house, broken only by her heavy panting - and the thing sitting in the center of the room watching her. Before her sat a thing indescribable. It hurt just to behold it, and its mere presence physically repulsed her. An undeniable, horrific air of otherworldliness saturated the atmosphere. She had done it, she had summoned a creature from the forbidden pits of demoniac places no human mind had dwelled. “Gods above and below…” she whispered, eyes wide in admiration and no small fear. “You’re a gorgeous thing.”


She watched it for a moment, the uneven pulsing and amorphous asymmetry stirring a deep discomfort within her. Her eyes were drawn to the unusually shaped tentacles waving about the thing’s main bulk - she was familiar with many abominations of the elder planes - and such tentacles often ended in mouths, razor lined suction cups, or other… worse things. These tentacles seemed almost phallic in nature, and they pulsed with a viscous white fluid that visibly coursed throughout their lengths. She eyed the unusually shaped tentacles with suspicion. No words came forth. It was not that she expected any, but a small feeling of anticlimax began to well within her mind. Had she summoned a dud? Some amorphous ball of slime that had the essence of the outer planes but none of the alien intelligence and power that so captivated her. As it was, it seemed content merely to observe her, silent and almost unmoving but for the gentle motion of myriad tentacles. 


A thought sprang to mind - the coat, every inch inscribed in protective seals. Perhaps it was too much? Could the item be suppressing the thing before her? Keeping it at bay? Briefly, she entertained the notion of dispensing with the coat and its warding - but just as quickly dashed the notion, common sense prevailing. Such action would be foolhardy, near suicidal. 


And yet… she felt a strange urge to do so. A gentle nudge in the back of her mind that told her to leave the thing behind, come what may. She resisted at first, her conscious mind keenly aware of just how truly terrible an idea it was - and yet the urge persisted, and grew stronger with every passing moment. At last she relented, turning to a small chair and sliding out of the coat, dropping it onto the aged wood. 


She turned back, and her eyes shot wide open - the thing had moved, its cumbersome bulk lunging towards her, phallic tentacles outstretched. Delilah let out a shriek of fright, recoiling instinctively as she leapt desperately away, hand reaching out towards the discarded coat and the protection it offered. 


Tentacles wrapped around her legs, arms, and abdomen, pulling her towards the beast. She shut her eyes, not wanting to see the end that she was certain was now nigh. More tentacles coiled around her, ensaring her still further into certain doom.


And yet she felt no yawning maw close around her, rather a curious prodding at her groin. Terrified, she cocked an eye open, gasping at the sight - fully fifty of the tentacle things probed at her, many exploring about the edges of her clothes, some seeming almost to caress her face. She said nothing, not wanting to anger the being - it was clear now that it was folly of the highest order to think the thing unintelligent. A sinking feeling rose in her gut as she felt one of them snag at the waist of her pants and begin to pull, others soon joining it. Warm, slick tentacles brushed past her skin as they snaked their way into her clothing, tugging and pulling at it until, with an unmistakable ripping noise, they tore the denim apart. Delilah gulped, looking at the thing that held her aloft, completely uncertain as to what might happen to her now.


Some part of her still expected to be devoured whole, but the same gentle prodding at the back of her mind began to assure her this would not be the case. Instead, as she felt the slippery, warm flesh brush against her inner thigh, it became increasingly obvious that this thing intended to mate. Or to… attempt it, at any rate. Delilah’s mind flashed back to the some of the more unusual ingredients - the phalli and testes of myriad beasts from across time and space. With a start, she realized exactly what she had summoned, and what would happen. The thing could not communicate directly, she knew that much now - it could not speak to her, and was confined merely to the faint pulsing thoughts she felt. These beasts were of a remarkably different nature to those of other planes, and she knew that resistance would only delay the inevitable. At least she knew now that she was in no real danger. 


The tentacles poked and prodded about her exposed body, seeming to explore the new prize they had found for themselves. It occurred to her that her own body must be as foreign to the thing that held her as it was to her, it was probably examining her in much the same way she would examine it. The thought calmed her somewhat, though only slightly - there was little any comforting thoughts or words could do to ease her tension as she felt the thing probing against her loins. A red flush rose to her cheeks at the sensation, and she stifled a grunt as it brushed past her clitoris, parting the lips of her vagina slightly. The sensation was utterly alien and bizarre, but strangely comforting. The warm, slick sensation was calming to her nerves and stirred a feeling she had no business feeling at the moment - arousal. 


Another tentacle brushed past her, this one seemingly with more intent. It paused at her involuntary tensing of muscles, the helpless quivering of her loins seeming to give it pause. More tentacles surged towards the spot, and Delilah’s eyes widened as they began to gently poke and pull at parts of her, spreading apart her loins and presumably familiarizing with her anatomy. 


Without warning a tentacle pushed its way inside her, parting the walls of her nether regions and worming its way inside her. Delilah let out an involuntary groan at the sensation, eyes snapping shut as she tried to control herself - something about this thing felt good in a way she couldn’t fully understand. Some sort of aphrodisiac? Every millimeter deeper it advanced sent ripples of pleasure through her body, excited electric sparks dancing about beneath her skin as she found herself bathed in a deeper, more profound pleasure than she had ever experienced before. 


Delilah groaned, her back arching in pleasure at the sensation of the tentacle pushing deeper inside it, twisting and turning in ways impossible for others, every slightest fold, every inch of sensitive skin was stimulated. A heavy, intoxicating heat began to build in her loins, and she could barely think straight. She knew there would be no end to this ordeal any time soon and so resigned herself to it, slipping into the beckoning warmth of her growing lust. 


The tentacles seemed to sense her acceptance of things and the growing lust that grew within her. In time with her own movements they began to increase in speed, two more of them sliding into her, twisting around with the first. The thick, exquisitely textured tentacles began to thrust in and out of her, other tentacles gently teasing at her rear. A particularly thick, pulsing tentacle pushed to the fore, pressing against her delicate entrance with an almost playful manner, the tip slick with some sort of natural lubricant. 


Without any further warning, the tentacle began to push into her, eliciting many squeals of surprise, pleasure, and some pain. She realized she was now this monster’s plaything - a set of holes and receptacles for it to use, and the revelation sent a wave of illicit thrill through her mind. There was something exciting - in a dirty, shameful way - about being used by this thing in this manner. Like she was merely a tool, a toy, for the thing to use casually. A submissive glee in utter helplessness, basking in the welling depths of pleasure that buoyed her along. Delilah moaned like a bitch in heat, her back arched in ecstasy as she lay helpless, her ass and vagina filled to the brim with thrusting tentacles. Every inch that filled her sent a dizzying array of sensations flooding through her mind and body, electric sparks of white hot bliss that evoked wild cries of passion. 


Delilah could scarcely think as the tempo of the tentacles grew faster, a rough, heavy rhythm setting in as they pistoned in and out of her with mind numbing speed and gusto. Her breasts shook and jiggled with every motion, her buttocks bounced back and forth, and with every thrust of the tentacles a small bulge traveled along her belly, sliding in and out mesmerizingly. The wet sound of enthusiastic sex filled the air, intermingled with her lustful moaning. 


More tentacles surged forwards, two wrapping around her breasts and beginning to tug at her nipples, almost seeming to suck as though milk might come from them. Delilah moaned still louder, the sensation sending yet more flurries of delight dancing about her being. Her own hands, held by the tentacles but free to move, slid to her breasts, groping and massaging the sensitive mounds even as the tentacles continued to suckle at them. She groaned, her body a shuddering mess of lust and pleasure as the tentacles continued inexorably to thrust in and out of her.


A powerful, all encompassing heat and pressure built within her body, every thrust of a tentacle into the deepest depths of her body sending a surge of euphoria throughout her being. Every motion of her body served only to increase still further the dizzying heights of lust and pleasure to which she had been carried. She could feel it building inside her, waiting to crash over her in an irresistible tidal wave. The beast seemed to sense it too, and the tempo of thrusting doubled instantly. Delilah screamed in pleasure, the probing phalli thrusting into her with an almost dizzying speed, a force that shook her whole body. 


With a final, powerful finality the tentacles slammed home within her, seeming to swell almost imperceptibly. Delilah screamed again, her back arching and eyes rolling back into her head as a overwhelming, white hot hova of pleasure burst forth from her loins. It swept across her mind and body, intoxicating and enrapturing. It seized her up and carried her along in a raging flood of  pleasure and euphoria. Time seemed to have no meaning at the moment - a minute could have passed, an hour could have passed, a day could have passed, a second could have passed - she was all but dead to the world as she screamed aloud her ecstasy to the heavens. A wordless cry of otherworldly pleasure scarcely imaginable and wholly indescribable. 


The tentacles, having slowed for a moment, resumed their motions with a sudden ferocity and intensity, seeming to swell further. Her breasts and buttocks bounced wildly, the amazing power of the thing’s thrusting catching her in the swelling tide of yet another orgasm - Delilah, in a haze of lust, could scarce recognize it. A moment later, and the second orgasm within a minute burst across her body, the thick member in her rear probing ever deeper. A different kind of pleasure filled her, just as deep and pleasurable, and again Delilah screamed prayers and oaths to the heavens as she writhed in helpless pleasure. 


And even as Delilah basked in the second orgasm of the night, the tentacles did not cease in their motions. If anything, they somehow grew faster - and she could hear a deep rumbling coming from the thing. Her knowledge of the things of the outer realms was so small, so limited - but she could swear the thing was making the same kind of pleasured sounds she was. Oh, how she wished she could speak with it, communicate with a true outer being and learn the secrets of other planes of existence. 


A particularly hard tentacle thrust brought her back to reality, where the thing had filled her with as much phallic tentacle meat as she could possibly handle. Her breasts were still vigorously sucked and prodded, the rhythmic thrusting and pounding driving her to a near constant stream of moans as she basked in the dizzying depths of otherworldly pleasure. She could sense it - exactly how she could only guess at, but the thing was nearing its own finish. That much she was sure of, the low rumbling, the change in speed and intensity, and a deep, inexplicable subliminal feeling. The pace of the beast’s thrusting picked up once more, the rhythm now erratic and wild, and Delilah knew the time had come. She braced herself, not knowing exactly what would happen - would a beast like this even have ejaculate like one of earth? Would such a thing harm her? She knew not - but was soon to find out.


With an eerie, shrieking howl the beast seemed to spasm, the phalli filling her swelling further and pushing deep inside her as far as they could go - pressing against the entrance to her womb. A thick, hot liquid burst forth - its exact nature was abundantly clear, and thick, viscous torrents of the stuff flooded her womb and her rear. The intoxicating sensation, a sweet, all encompassing euphoria and sexual nirvana that swaddled her mind in its warm embrace, seemed like it might never end - and Delilah fervently hoped it wouldn’t. Every passing second seemed to bring another surge of the thing’s seed, flowing into her with an unrelenting force and power - this thing, this being would seed her, of that there was no doubt. Every drop filled her further, flowing through her innermost depths, her womb drenched in the stuff, every nook and crevice painted with potent monster cum. She writhed in pleasure, her moans of ecstasy echoing throughout the room, mingling with the thing’s own eldritch rumblings. 


Time seemed to stretch on, unmoving and ceaseless. Delilah lost all track of it, her world entirely consumed by the thing still pumping its potent load deep inside her. The sheer volume amazed her - thick ropes of the stuff dripped from between her thighs as even more surged into her, surely it would end soon, surely the thing would be satisfied. And slowly, as ever more of its thick seed filled her, as the night wore on, the hours marked by moans and growls of pleasure, the beast seemed depleted. 


As the night finally began to wane Delilah looked over to the thing, the murky lighting concealing all but the most general of features. Even so it was apparent that, whatever the thing’s nature, it did not wish her harm. She could discern nothing of the usual sense of wrongness and alien horror that often accompanied such beings, and the strange calm and comfort the thing exuded assured her that she was safe. What would happen now, though, remained a mystery. And as the hours ticked past, the thing’s seed warm and comforting inside her, she felt a strange assurance that whatever came, it would be alright. 


A strange ending to the evening, all things considered. She had half expected to face down a brain melting monstrosity. And here she was - safe, and basking in the afterglow of the best sexual experience of her life. She grinned, her eyes finally fluttering closed, and she drifted off to sleep. 
