Noelle’s Tentacle Gains, Part 2

Noelle scrolled up and down the Long-Long Club’s website, furiously searching for an answer to her predicament. There was a brief Q&A section about the site’s functionality, but it provided no answers.

Disappointed, Noelle distractedly forked a mouthful of Amy’s risotto into her mouth. It was probably the best thing she’d tasted all week; her own meagre experiments in the kitchen weren’t any more exotic than eggs and bacon.

“God damnit…” Noelle muttered. She glared down at her crotch where her main concern, a wiggling tentacle, poked out of her pussy.

It was bright green, the same colour of the orb she had accidentally swallowed. It was about as thick as three thumbs and, stretched out, was two hand lengths long, tapering into a rounded, smooth head.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” She prodded it, and was surprised to feel the touch of her finger through the appendage. Experimentally, she clenched her groin and the tentacle receded into her. “No no no! Not that way!” She grabbed the bulbous head and pulled at it, drawing it out until it was about the length of her forearm, but it extended no further. There was a resistance, and the tentacle was too oily to force any more.

“How am I supposed to get tentacle fucked with this in the way?” She moaned, collapsing back in her seat. Her mind wandered, and now that the initial panic was waning off she realised that she was extremely horny. Her fingers idly found their way down and she diddled herself absently. The tentacle got in the way occasionally, which was frustrating, but what was worse was that her ministrations weren’t easing the hot feeling. Frowning, she grabbed the tentacle and began stroking it, like a man would. The sensation was… strange. Good, but strange. She masturbated for a while, one hand massaging her clit, the other giving her new appendage a hand job. Her breathing grew heavy, her cheeks flushed. She stroked and rubbed faster and harder, the two actions synchronising in speed and rhythm. With a last gasp she came, her lower lips squeezing the sensitive tentacle as she clenched. Noelle relaxed back in her chair, awash in the euphoria.

After a moment, the tentacle began nagging at her, and she realised that the tentacle hadn’t come, only her own pussy had. She still felt horny, and it was definitely the tentacle’s fault. “Uugghhh…. What, am I not good enough for you?” She grumbled at her crotch.

Her thoughts swam like a lost dog in a lake as she continued to jack off the tentacle. Was this going to be permanent? Was she even still human? Would guys still be interested in her if they found out what was between her legs? Would Amy?

The last thought startled her, but it also brought an intense shock of pleasure to her masturbation. Her tentacle became rigid at the thought of her neighbour, wiggling slightly.

“What…” Was she… Did she have the hots for Amy now? She shook her head, trying to dispel the suspicion. But… Maybe…

Noelle pondered this course of action, spinning in her chair. Of all the girls in the hall, Amy was the kindest. And she knew about this already… sort of. Maybe she had some ideas about getting rid of the tentacle?

Noelle put on some underwear and a skirt and left her room, pausing to make sure there was no one in the hallway. Amy’s door was directly opposite hers and she knocked on it vigorously.

Amy opened the door and stood there, worried and fidgeting. “Oh. Hi. Um. Sorry.” She apologised for nothing in particular. She still wore a taught blue shirt and tight shorts, bare legs leading down to white socks in white trainers. Noelle’s mind shorted a bit, and she couldn’t prevent herself from imagining those clothes cast off onto the floor…

Amy stepped back, withering under the intense inspection. “N-Noelle…?”

Noelle took a step forward, staring at her. They stood there for a brief moment, locked in their mutual gazes, before Noelle blinked and huffed. “Get in here.” She commanded, grabbing Amy’s shirt and hauling her through the hall and into her room, shutting the door behind her.

Noelle locked the door and turned. Amy was taking in her room, eyes raking over her furniture, posters, discarded clothes and other miscellaneous debris. She stared at the strange vase for a few seconds, before finally turning to Noelle. “Um…” Noelle was staring distantly at her and Amy abashedly averted her gaze, eyes coming to rest on the empty plate. “Oh! How… how was it?”

Noelle blinked stupidly. “Huh?”

Amy pointed at the dish. “How was the risotto?”

Noelle followed her indication. “Oh. Yeah. It was… fine. I mean, Good. Great!”

Amy lit up. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Noelle’s head burned with a muggy fog, ignited by Amy’s pleased expression. There was an itch deep within her, enveloping her entire consciousness, which grew strongest when she thought of Amy.

Amy was staring at Noelle’s crotch, then glanced away with a blush.