Revenge of the Water Monster Ch. 02

This is mid-story, so if it's something that interests you, I recommend starting with Chapter 1.

In the movie so far, the Princess heroine has been captured by the Water Monster, who is tormenting her as he transforms her. The last chapter focused on breast expansion and nipple penetration, and we're still in the middle of that as our heroine recovers her senses.

Nancy, the foul-mouthed actress playing the Princess, is having the grandest time, but the 'torment' is so arousing, she's struggling not to melt down into an ecstatic puddle too early in the shooting.

Expect more breast expansion, nipple penetration, breast abuse, lactation, and other Hentai tropes.

Every character in this story is imaginary, unrelated to any real people or extant monsters, and they're all 18+.

Caution: The actors in this scene are trained professionals. Do not attempt these stunts at home.

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Please don't ask me how long it took, but eventually, I pried my eyes open and looked down blearily. Damn! My nipples were stretched so thin! They were small ribbons around holes the size of dimes. And as I twitched and shuddered at the next pulse of growth, and the next, they kept pushing further out.

Some amount of time passed before I blinked my eyes open again, mostly by force of will. When this was over, Jeff and I were going to have words about this part. My entire chest was burning with erotic heat. Every touch was terrific, and the heat kept building as my tits continued to grow. My pussy was so wet, I was washing away some of the slime dripping down my legs. Every motion in my chest was causing shots of desire to bounce from my hooters to my clit and cunt. And the most sensitive part of my body at that point--the places that felt wired directly into my pleasure centers--were my nipples, wrapped tightly around those needles. Even the tiniest vibration left me moaning. And the bouncing vacuum pots sucking on my tits weren't anyone's idea of 'subtle.'

I tried to take stock of my new breasts, but between the bouncing and the transparent contraptions on my chest, I had a hard time judging their size. The vacuum redoubled. It still hurt a little, dragging at my soft tits, but mostly, it was still 'oddly satisfying.' I looked at the tentacles behind the domes. They were throbbing a little, probably to make the vacuum thing work.

Looking down, I realized I wasn't anyone's 'medium' anymore. These tits looked huge. The tit-dome thing had fogged from sweat, but these looked like the classic, Playboy kind of tits, pushing out improbably far from my tiny chest. And they were wide, filling my chest. I think they touched in the middle as well, but it was hard to see.

Someone was shaking a cue card. Oh, right. I had lines.

"Oh!" I cried out in my high voice, "That is too much! My body may explode from desire!"

I wasn't thrilled with the words, but what can you do? I didn't write the damn dialogue. After struggling not to grimace at the bad script, I glanced up to see another wave of clenching moving down the hypo-tentacles jammed into my tits.

More tit-juice? Really? Like, these DD things just weren't big enough?

I watched as the bulge sped down to the needle/stingers. I couldn't help myself and tensed as the fluid hit the injectors, but I held off on my safeword for now. I went back to my 'being tortured for secrets' fantasy as my new, bigger tits were pumped up just amazingly full of wonder drugs. I shook and yelled scripted curses quickly, my voice failing as each injection pulsed through the needles through my nipples.

When the injectors finally stopped, I lay limply in the tentacles, my hands clenching and unclenching, my legs twitching, my safeword still unspoken. I was proud of myself. And with each new pulse, I still arched and shuddered anew, but weakly. Not pretending; I really was that tired. That was a lot of intense... well, call it acting.

The last push finally finished, and I dangled there, gasping. I had no idea how many climaxes I'd just gone through. They were too quick to count and too violent to leave room for arithmetic. I could feel my tits growing again, of course, and I looked down, aghast. Honestly, I was shocked at the new size myself. They pushed so far out from my chest, it was... well, I had nothing to compare against. I don't think I've seen boobs that large. (Maybe it was because they were on my chest and not someone else's.) Still, how big did they need these monsters to be? 'My Tits will devour your smaller post-industrial cities?"

Detroit, here we come! I felt my hooters rippling and jiggling out. Good god! They were filling up the space under the tit-domes. They forced the needles deep into my expanding chest, stretching my nipples just a bit further. I had to be nearly done, right? My nipples wouldn't--couldn't--stretch any further. I managed to limit myself to a long hiss and some shaking as my pounding, pulsing nipples finally bottomed out, pressed against the bases of the needles. With one last, shocking shove, the growing tits filled the flowers, pushing the bases off my chest and breaking what little vacuum was left.

Listening to me, I thought I sounded tortured and exhausted. The exhausted part was right, but not the pain part. Dear god, no. Inside, I was so happy I was almost singing. This part was so damn close to my fantasy version! Sure, the scene had a long, fucking painful lead-up before it got good, but that last part was what I'd hoped for, and more. I was struggling with my nipples, but rather than feeling like the pain was interrupting me, it was driving me harder. I hadn't been this sexually high in my life!

With a few last spasms, the stingers finished. I looked, and sure enough, my boobs had filled the domes, edge to edge, and even spilled out around the edges. The tentacles twitched, then the domes unpeeled themselves, rolling up off my tits. The last parts touching me were the needles, buried to the hilt. My nipples were stretched amazingly thin, and so tight I couldn't believe the skin survived the experience, but there they were, strapped around shafts the diameter of a nickel. Holy crap!

I watched a camera swoop in for a close-up. It was impressive from every angle. My boobs were mountains, huge things, filling my chest edge-to-edge. They were even nicely shaped, rising to conical points where the needles were still buried up to the hilt.

The tentacles began to drift back as the flowers folded down slowly. It was so steady, it looked mechanical. I watched as the pressure against my pounding tits relaxed. The tentacles moved so slowly and steadily, like a hydraulic press in reverse. I could see my body was soft and liquid by comparison.

Oh, fuck. I blinked, realizing what had to happen next. The two tentacles were dragging on the needles embedded deep in my newly oceanic honkers. It would have been good news, except....

Except my tits didn't want to let go. When the needles started pulling, I shrieked, then stiffened. The sensation was stunning; just staggering. I heard rushing and wondered if I was beginning to faint, but the tentacles pulled a little harder, and the shooting pain woke me up. I arched my back, gritting my teeth theatrically, and shrieked. My tits were stretched further out from my chest, but they weren't even close to slipping off the needles, and the rushing in my ears became a roaring.

I shrieked again, loudly. I wouldn't crack! I wouldn't! I'd done too many S&M scenes with real pain to let pleasure get me to fold. And the pleasure was so sharp and so strong, it was harder to resist than when that heavy-handed clod whipped me too hard last year. I repeated my safeword silently so I'd remember it if I needed, and clenched my hands. I didn't want to tap out, but it wasn't that far away, either.

I watched in shocked horror as the retreating needles slowly dragged out my nipples. I hadn't thought it possible the sensations could get stronger! I started shrieking and shuddering from the furious stimulation. My nipples were the center of everything as they screamed their own piercingly sharp pleasure. Or maybe it was me screaming. I was doing it regularly. I managed to look down at the spectacle of my nipples, my chest heaving and quivering, and I still didn't tap out. Not yet!

The tentacles kept increasing their pull slowly but relentlessly, like they were geared, and my nipples were dragged out tighter and tighter. Think of it as a new torture scene, I thought, yelling and moaning. I squinted, watching as my breasts were stretched into high, pointed peaks. I didn't think I could stand much more ecstasy.

When the needles popped loose, it was completely unexpected. I hadn't felt any relaxation at all until everything fell apart with a jerk. There should have been more noise, I thought as I saw my tits snap back abruptly, bouncing all over my chest.

Then the sensation hit my mind, and I just howled, my world filled with white noise. Nothing should feel that good. I mean that just the way I said it. Did it feel good? Like someone poured ecstasy into my chest. But it wasn't a little good, it wasn't just enough, and it wasn't even too much. It was way, way, way the fuck too much good feeling at one time. I wondered if this was the time I'd burn out my pleasure centers entirely. I wasn't experiencing it; that wave of sensation washed my life away.

I stayed adrift until the sensations dropped back to something I could encompass. I was lying in the tentacles holding me, my body positively vibrating with a massive wave of fast tit climaxes. I was still aware enough to know I was shuddering and drooling, but it took me a while to get a handle on 'reality' again. And it didn't stop. I felt another shuddering wave, then a third. I finally opened my eyes, blinking vaguely at my tits. Were they still jiggling from the needles, or was that just my last dozen fast climaxes? It was fun to watch, I thought dully, twitching through four more quick declining climaxes.

I knew I probably wasn't firing on all cylinders by this point, but I was unbowed. That amazed me, and frankly, I was proud. Not everyone could have done that! I was pretty sure that most other porn actresses would have bailed long before now.

There was no blood, of course. This was a no-blood movie by design (green tentacle goo notwithstanding). There'd be every other kind of bodily fluid by the liter, but apparently, blood discouraged people. Even more than (I resisted a cough) long fucking bio-tit-damn-needles. JESUS, those had looked awful!

The tentacles around my abdomen and shoulders unwrapped for the next round of growth. I was propped up in midair, my arms pulled back, a big tentacle behind my back pushing my chest forward. I tried to arch a little more myself, aiming for a more graceful line. I managed to move a little. Then I saw a monitor. My eyes struggled with focusing, but I thought the image looked scrumptious. I watched as my tits grew out further from my chest, trying not to be obvious that I was watching anything.

It wasn't all problem-free. Good thing I couldn't scratch, I thought, struggling not to giggle insanely. My tits were majestic, waving there on my chest, but they were starting to feel itchy.

And damn, but look at those hooters! Those puppies were up to the size of small cantaloupes before they even started to slow down. The erotic burning was down to a dull roar in my chest, spread out into a whole-body feeling of heat. It was big, and yet it wasn't pushing me into any significant climax right away. Was I racking up stimulation points for something epic later?

The changes were fascinating. I was feeling the surprisingly heavy weight of my new tits pulling and pushing on my chest and shoulders, but the weight felt almost comfortable, like I was wrapped in--

The small tentacles that had been sneakily wrapping themselves around my nipples suddenly wound crushingly tight, like ninja nipple clamps. Just when I noticed them, they yanked up on my nipples. Bastard!

I hissed involuntarily, as from terrible pain, my mouth open, arching my back helplessly as I shook, moaning and jerking.

The small tendrils yanked my nipples up again, stretching them up. I keened, arching up in response, as if to lessen the strain on my poor, abused nips.

I wasn't in pain. Oh my dear god, no. I hoped my monstrous tit-climax hadn't been too identifiable on camera. The chemistry had finally hit just the right level. My nipples were loving a new sex life they'd never envisioned before.

This was the beginning of a new theme as they yanked my nipples, tugging on my sensitive points hard, over and over, each time making me shudder and twitch, each one sending sudden, sharp explosions to my senses. I squealed, my body going rigid with each crushing squeeze or horrible, dragging pull. I'm sure it looked awful.

And damn, that felt sweet!

The tentacles unwound, dragging off my super-sensitive nipples, then re-wound themselves and clenched even tighter. I arched up in pleasure, struggling to grimace for the camera. It was a difficult struggle to get it right. My tits had become amazingly erotic, and the squeezing and release felt way past 'really good.' Pull, squeeze, clench, relax, shiver. Pull harder, clench, pinch mercilessly, pop free, flail, and shudder.

I hadn't burned out my pleasure centers, but not for lack of effort.

The tentacles released my nips with a snap that jiggled a sharp wave through those whales--another big reaction with no acting required. Like before, I had to marvel at how long the monster tits bounced around before they finally settled down. And while the tit growth had slowed, it hadn't stopped completely. I watched their silhouette from above as the floating cameras captured the side profiles, both of them fascinated by those whoppers. Such size and shape!

What the hell did I look like now? Wish I had a mirror. Or a monitor off-set with a long shot. Looking down at them, they were impossibly big. Mountainous. Like, maybe, high-letter-cup, "hard to walk," huge. Make a joke about Double H. Wow. And impossibly firm, of course, especially for such big things. And yet they weren't stiff-looking. So many boob fantasies end up looking fake, inflated, and so weightless they might as well be Zeppelins waiting for their release. These were realistic and almost natural. I thought they were exciting to watch, and I wasn't a boob girl. It was a delicate effect to get right, assuming you can imagine swaying and jiggling, melon-sized boobs as 'delicate.'

Well, now that I had a free moment to look, the sisters did show a few... deficiencies? Despite the inhumane stretching they'd just suffered through, my nipples still seemed way too small. I saw a close-up on one monitor, and my tips were all stretched out, gaping wide and deep. I wonder if 'nipple gape' is a fetish? Overall, though, even sprawled out like that, my nipples were still just dots on their big, new canvas. And while my tits were big and firm, I get more excited by tits with more shape. Plus, my aureoles, which used to seem like little crowns, were now more like afterthoughts, lost in the endless white expanse.

Distracted by the aesthetics of my fantasy boobs, I didn't notice the two lily-shaped tentacles until they slapped over my tits. (Literally: they hit with a smacking thump.) I jumped and kicked (futilely), and my tits rippled and bounced dramatically as the flower-like things sucked themselves down hard. They sucking my tits in several times, pulling and stretching until they covered about half of each boob. I felt them seal to my skin firmly, and they immediately started suckling. I mean, they were really sucking down on me. They were pulling out my areola and nipples so strongly I wondered if they'd draw blood.

More emoting and high-pitched pleading. I earn my paychecks.

At the same time, even with all the force they were using, that violent massaging was making the tips of my tits glow with warmth. I was positively tingling under the petals.

Oddly, most of the violence against my breasts was hidden by the tentacles. This was one of the few moments when the reality was worse than the appearance. Well, 'worse' is the wrong word. I pulled and kicked, trying to dramatize that I was being shockingly, horribly abused, but even I didn't believe me.

So it was just as well that the monster started yanking my tits around aggressively at the same time. Jeff needed more drama, apparently. They kept suckling me hard enough that I didn't have to fake my moans. All the camera saw was how the tentacles were tugging those mommas up like they were trying to make off with them. I thrashed, too, of course. With big, new weights attached to my chest, I had to follow wherever they were being yanked. Luckily, those mammaries were just as durable as I'd come to expect from Jeff. That kind of attention to detail was one of the reasons I'd gone with his studio, after all.

I wasn't sure what the flowers were doing to my tits--it still felt weirdly harsh against my nipples and tips--but in the middle of all the jerking and wrenching around, my attention was split between the two. I felt something grab and pull on my nipples as my tits were lifted high. I twitched as many small, sharp things jabbed around my areolas just as the tentacles yanked forward. It wasn't terrible, but it was a surprise. (I didn't think that was starting yet.) At the same time, a hyper-vacuum thing had started. They weren't just holding my hooters firmly; they were vacuum-forming them.

Still, I could only see the big yanking and bouncing in front of me. It had a level of erotic suffering that overwhelmed the small stuff, and it was excruciating in a way I loved. It yanked and tugged and hurt just enough to push me up higher on my erotic-o-meter. Honestly, Jeff was managing my fantasies wonderfully. This was even better than I'd hoped.

The tentacles dragged up hard, pulling my tits up tightly. They pulled hard enough that I wondered if they were holding my full weight. I thrashed my arms and legs weakly, not wanting to jerk around unexpectedly (I had visions of bad things). I realized that I was wrong, and the tentacles around me were holding at least some of my weight, but it was a pretty hard pull.

Despite the apparent brutality of it all, the yanking didn't hurt, but it felt so wild, so extreme, that I gasped in surprise. Talk about being dominated! It also felt weirdly satisfying, almost like an outstanding stretch. Granted, it was my secondary erotic organs that were being callously hauled out, but they were good ones (the organs, that is).

The initial surprise wore off in the first minute, and now I was enjoying how it simultaneously pulled on the sensitive tips of my breasts, dragging my skin, squeezing my newly created boobs, and dragged on my chest and (seemingly) directly on my cunt. I didn't want it to end. Hell, I was hoping Jeff might give the twins a few more yanks, maybe a shake. I'd even be open to something more severe.

And he did just exactly that, bless his geeky little head. Was he reading my mind? I got to shriek and thrash as I dangled in the tentacles, pulled up by my captive tits, then my arms were pulled back. I was twirled and shaken, pulled up harder, and released. Pulled up higher, with my keening in pseudo-pain, held, bounced, rattled, then stirred a little more.

I was running out of appropriate noises, honestly, but figured the big tit display didn't depend on my emoting skills for its customer appeal. I was having a good enough time, anyway. With a quick shudder, I climaxed again. Nothing huge, and I still wanted more, but it was pleasant enough for now.

Jeff-the-Water-Monster stopped pulling and started pushing. With the other tentacles holding me in place again, he drove my big, soft tits up into fantastic cleavage. Up high, squeezed together, pushed flat, then released. Watching a monitor, I was surprised at how erotic it looked from the front. Looking down, though, I wondered if a top view would be a seller, too. I'd have to mention that to Jeff later.

A few more of those pump-and-pulls, then the tentacles tried to drag my tits apart, left and right, and then up and down. 'Someone make a wish!' I thought giddily. They pulled one while pushing the other, and then pumping in and out like my tits were bellows. Then the cycle started repeating.

I yelled and flailed as I was dragged this way and that, loving every minute. For all the apparent violence, this was all in the range of mild pain that I thought was just right. It was what I needed to get off, these days. No big surprise there. I was, I always said, a happily unapologetic slut.

But there was a problem. As Jeff was hauling me up again and shaking me violently about, I realized that he'd over-engineered my tits. If my nipple torture had too much sensation, my gigundo ta-tas didn't have enough strong feelings.

What a surprise: I still wanted more. It was so 'me.'

He'd made my new breasts and chest tough enough that it didn't hurt much being dragged around by my newly large appendages. That's pretty good in theory, but in practice, I found myself wanting to feel a little more suffering. My tits were too impervious. I needed just a little more edge to push me past foreplay and into overdrive. So while this was nice, it wasn't enough.

I wondered what it would feel like if they did dangle me by my tits. It sounded like fun, but would that make good theater? It would be a pretty good thrill for me. I imagined someone dragging my tits up in the air. Say, with my arms tied behind me. Add slow cranking. First, lift me from a chair to standing, then up to tip-toe, hauled again, my toes still touching, trying to push up. I'd be squealing and pleading, a rush of words they'd ignore. Then they'd lift me off the ground completely, my legs kicking weakly. Maybe some lashing, or a paddle? Tie my arms to the floor and pull? They could start adding weights to my ankles, one after the next, dragging me down harder and harder.

Wait! Weights on my labia! Oh, fuck! I almost came right then. That's the ticket! I had to go into another grimace to hide my smile at the thought. Seriously hot. Something else to bring up with Jeff later.

Then it was like Jeff read my mind (although he missed the labia part). The flower-like things started pulling away sharply as the tentacles around my arms and waist pulled the other way. My tits stretched out ridiculously while somehow still looking full and lush. Jeff pulled harder, stretching my boobs out interestingly. The things pulled me hard, then harder. I was starting to wonder if my tits would end up going on the same side as the rest of me in this tug-of-war. Not that I was complaining. This was precisely what I'd wanted, and it was dragging erotic fire across half my body.

The force increased again, but I felt the tips of the petals start slowly pulling away from my skin. As they unwound from me, the tentacles hauled me out farther than ever. God, that felt bad and so fucking good! His appendages were creaking, I swear! And then harder again. I was making all the right noises, but for all the wrong reasons.

The first flower popped loose with a surprisingly obscene sucking sound. I only had a brief moment where one tit was stretching twice as hard before it popped free with its unique, blubbery effect. The flower tentacles sprang out of the frame with a snap. My mountainous tits bounced back to my chest with liquid motions I'd never seen on anyone's chest before now. Free of restraint, the tips of my breasts were a bright, blushing red where the plant had been working on me, but my honkers were still bouncing around too much to see a lot of detail.

And it was all so goddamn disappointing! I'd been that close to a mind-shattering climax. I looked down at my abused mammaries limply, but my eyes widened. The flowers had been working overtime!

My nipples were much, much bigger. They were thick as thimbles and extended more than an inch. I saw the indentations in the middle were still gaping wide. They'd had big needles driven down the middle, after all. I thought about screwing them with little, tiny dicks. And my tits were shapely. They hadn't been terrible before, but now they were sharply pointed, holding their form even as they bounced around in front of me. Oh, Zingo! Just the shape that turned me on. And my areolas were so much broader and thicker! Sure, they were huge compared to, say, my thumb, but they were still proportional. They weren't oversized (I'd vetoed that look), but matched the rest of my enormous tits. I thought it all looked much better. These tits were a wonder to see. I was seriously aroused just looking at them.

Vacuum-formed tits rule!

But damn it! I'd been getting into the scene like nobody's business. The tugging and yanking were violent in almost the right way! Even though it didn't work the way I'd hoped, I was still all wound up!

Maybe that wasn't the best metaphor, I thought as I felt the tentacles wrapped around me just under my tits and tightened.

There was something else going on. My breasts were starting to feel pressurized. Really, again? I looked down at them bouncing and swaying in front of me. By god, they were pushing out further. And higher. They felt tight and uncomfortable.

Oh, right. It was that time in the story. I leaned back just as tentacles wrapped themselves greasily around the base of each tit, squeezing hard. It made the feeling of inflation worse, and I moaned as if in pain. The tentacles were slippery, and my chest was already coated in clear slime, so as they tightened, my tits began to squeeze through the loops.

Even though my tits covered my chest, they were still fuller in the middle than at the root. So to speak. The tentacles wrapped around the base of my tits squeezed, but paused there, my painfully inflated tits ballooning up in front of them. I could see my boobs getting red, like a child getting ready to shriek. Then I felt my tits begin slowly slipping, squeezing their way through the tight tentacle loops. It started slowly, but after a few more seconds, I could see those giant things almost extruding back toward me. After the slow start, things sped up until the tentacles popped off the end energetically enough that my tits were bouncing around afterward. It was either a vigorous massage, or they were milking my entire boob, chest to tip. It was weird but neat. They wrapped themselves around the base of both tits again, tightening hard. My tits inflated again, harder, turning brighter red, the pressure getting worryingly high before I felt my tits greasing out of their caress a second time.

Then I felt something new around the nipples. I gasped, looking down.

Yup, I was lactating, right on schedule. I gaped appropriately as breast milk was forced out of my nipples in a shower. The tentacles redoubled their force, and white stuff was misting everywhere, dribbling down Jeff's suckers and onto the floor. The tentacles reached the end of that squeeze, and my colossal tits jumped free in the middle of a milkstorm, bouncing and rolling.

The feeling of pressure changed quickly as my milk was forced through such sensitive nipples. The sensation was riveting. It was like my tits were climaxing on their own. It curled my toes! Hell, it curled my hair.

The tentacles did another, faster milking pass. I moaned as I jiggled. I hadn't expected it to feel that electrifying. Although with Jeff, I should have guessed. There needs to be an insider award for this kind of thing. 'Most stimulating modification.' I should mention that to someone. I should set up that award show myself!

New tentacles with mouths clamped onto both nipples and began suckling violently. I couldn't help arching back and keening as they bit down on my ruggedized but highly sensitive nips. These tentacles had transparent sections just behind the nursing heads so the cameras could see the milk streaming out of me and down the attached tubes. The quantity quickly coated the inside, but it looked like a lot.

Jeff went at me with a vengeance now, wrapping his rubbery limbs around my tits and my nipples. The tentacles over my cunt and my ass hadn't gone anywhere, and they were contributing their stimulation the whole time, too. The two arms wrapped around the base of my tits were squeezing hard, forcing rivers of milk out of me. The two suckling on my nipples were biting and pulling at my new, extended nipples as they sucked. Hell, they were sucking so hard I wondered if they'd draw blood once the milk ran out.

Would you mind if they did, Nan? Really? Don't answer that.

They were pinching and squeezing, then pulling out and letting them snap back. Usually, tit-tugging annoyed me, but it was working OK right now.

The rest of my body was getting a fuller treatment, too. Tentacles were sliding all over my cunt and ass, pushing teasingly at me. Still not enough to get me going too strongly--and it was still too early in the movie for penetration--but it was excellent fun.

"You cannot make me climax!" I yelled. "I am a warrior princess!"

I know, I know, but that's what was on the cue card.

Maybe I was all right about the tits. It all felt good, even if it wasn't transcendent. Jeff said he created my body to be sensitive but durable. I certainly have been durable so far, and if I started slightly overstimulated, each change adds another layer to the mix. Wow. I always loved rough attention, so that part was exhilarating. It was a good time all around. I luxuriated in the feeling across most of my skin as each tentacle and sucker did its pseudo-abusive act. I let every reaction cross my face, trying to show it all.

After a while, though, I found myself counting out the time. I was getting used to the abuse. It was getting like the tit-pull: stimulating enough, and certainly more fun than I'd expected, but I found myself almost tapping my foot impatiently. I was at 'Moderate' excitement level, and while it was growing better slowly, it was already getting a little old.

Not that I was complaining. Much. Most porn shoots included cumulative days of waiting around in the middle of this or that sexual act, then trying to act hot and interested again with around zero notice. Thank god for lube.

That's a big part of why I loved working with Jeff. He ran his shoots using long, continuous scenes, trying to "Keep things real!" Yeah, he says stuff like that, out loud and everything. But it was a big reason I'd pitched it to him first. You could really get in the mood on his sets. That said, he still had to run some scenes long in case he needed to edit down. This was the big middle part. It was almost like more foreplay, building me up, but slowly. Jeff was giving the audience lots of time to get themselves aroused, too. The scene needed to run long.

It also showed me the downside of long, continuous takes. I knew I had to last through the whole scene, front to back. I could easily see myself climaxing like a mother here, but I shouldn't. We'd all talked about it during the planning. If I came as vigorously as I wanted right now, I'd be done for a while. I'd have to stop and recover, and that would screw up everyone else's timing. So I grimaced and thrashed for effect, but spent a lot of my attention trying not to get overexcited too early.

So I was OK with this part not being the end-all. It was still exciting, and erotic, and slowly, slowly pushing my excitement levels up. Watching tiny tentacles squeezing your fantastically sensitive nipples while muscular appendages crushed milk out of your gigantic tits was more visually entertaining than I'd have thought. I'd never have chosen anything as mammoth as these bombers, but maybe I should consider a stint with big super-tits, just for a change. They're pretty fun so far.

I watched as my titanic boobies were squeezed together, mashed into my chest, the tentacles circling them pulled tight, crushing them into cylinders. Along with the usual fine mist, I was shooting long, quick shots of milk out of the center. Milk super-soaker! It felt terrific, and I hoped it was as exciting to watch. I couldn't tell for sure, even though I thought it was sexy. I certainly had a lot of tits to play with right now. And there was still a big tentacle running up and down between my legs, with suckers that bounced along my sphincter, my labia, and over my clit, back and forth, gently rubbing the utter, living crap out of everything I had. Usually, it rolled over the top of me, but sometimes the tip would push up, spreading my labia and grinding past my inner lips, then pull back.

That felt pretty neat, but it never went far enough for me. So I went into my usual self-questioning. Was it me? Was I just that jaded? Maybe my frustration was some function of this body. The sensation from my nipples was euphoric, but not ecstatic; nothing like a guy's ejaculation (at least given how they act; it's not like I've had a dick to play with). The thrumming through my labia and over my clit was fun, and Jeff's bumpy limb was just sawing away down there. That was adding to my excitement. The suckling tentacles were worrying at my nips, biting, pulling, and generally having a good time. That was better, but I was only getting started before they let go. I arched and twisted as another tiny tentacle wrapped around my clit, which was feeling too sensitive. I could thrash for that, and it was getting me amazingly hot and bothered, but then the tentacle eased off just enough to not quite push me over that threshold. I was knocking on the door--pounding on it with both hands, really--but I couldn't move past that line yet.