Wet Dreams_(0)

I know there has to be something wrong with this apartment. No one rents out a huge loft like this for one-tenth of the market value unless it’s haunted or something. But since I haven’t found a steady job yet, I don’t really have a lot of options. This is all that I can afford.

I search the place thoroughly, but I can’t find anything obviously wrong with it — no rats, no roaches, no bloodstains, and the plumbing and electricity both work. I go to bed feeling extremely lucky.

When I wake up, though, it’s a different story.

My asshole is sore, like I’ve been ridden hard, but I broke up with my boyfriend months ago and haven’t been laid since. There’s also this…slime on my skin, almost like snot, but thicker and slicker. It’s on my sheets, too. I take a shower and strip the bed, glad to see that it hasn’t seeped through into the mattress. I check the ceiling, but can’t find a leak. I make a note to call the landlord if it happens again.

The next morning, it’s the same thing. I call the landlord and leave a voicemail, and then trek down to the laundry room to wash my sheets, since they’re all dirty now. There’s a young woman already in there, folding her clothes as she takes them out of the dryer.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully. My ass hurts too much to be cheerful, but I smile back at her.

“Morning,” I say, stuffing my sheets into an empty washer.

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” she says. “I’m Kathryn. I’m in 2B.”

“Henry,” I say, “in 4A.”

“The loft?” She stops smiling.

“Yeah. Why? Is something wrong with it?”

“I don’t know. I just…I’ve heard things about the place. People say it’s haunted, but that’s just silly. I do know that there have been a lot of tenants come and go over the past few months. A lot. Most only stay a couple of nights.” She finishes folding her clothes, piles them back in her basket, and picks it up. “If you see any ghosts, let me know, okay?” she says with a smile as she leaves.

I do my laundry and go back upstairs. The landlord hasn’t returned my call yet. He still hasn’t when I finally go to bed. I have trouble falling asleep, wondering what I’m going to find in the morning.

I wake up sore and slimy for the third time. This is getting ridiculous. I call the landlord again, leaving another voicemail. He finally calls back around noon, telling me there’s nothing he can do unless I can find where the slime is coming from. That gives me an idea.

Before bed, I set up my laptop and turn on the webcam, setting it to record all night long. I still don’t sleep easy, but at least if it happens again, maybe I’ll find out what’s going on.

I’m not even surprised when I wake up, my asshole aching, my skin glistening with smears of slime. I shower and strip the bed — gonna have to do laundry again — and then sit down to watch the video. I fast-forward through a couple hours, watching myself toss and turn in my sleep. Then, just after midnight, something strange starts to happen.

The blankets slide off of me, leaving me naked in bed. The sheet beneath me begins to ripple, almost like water, and I gasp as several dark, slimy arms emerge from the bed, monstrous fingers tipped with gleaming claws. I watch, unable to believe my eyes, as the hands hold me down. The bed ripples and heaves again, and thick, muscular tentacles, almost like long tongues, emerge from the bed, several of them coiling around my thighs and pulling my legs apart while another pushes straight into my asshole.

I cringe as it squirms into me, the girth as big around as my forearm before it stops. No wonder I wake up sore. The me in the video begins to moan, but doesn’t wake up. How the hell could I sleep through this? I feel a flush of embarrassment as the me in the video gets hard, cock straining, pre-cum dribbling onto my stomach. After a moment, I cry out, my hips lifting off the bed as I cum, striping my stomach with my cream.

The tentacle pulls out of me and they all begin lapping up the jzim.