A teenage girl is taking on the summer hitchhiking challenge. Armed with only her sundress and her phone, she is ready to face whatever encounters await her.
Chapter 2: Abandoned factory
The track ran through the fields of ripe wheat, the golden stalks brushing against her legs, then gave way to a dense pine forest. The air, which shimmered with heat by the village, turned cooler here, heavy with the resinous, sharp scent of pine needles and damp earth. Her feet left faint prints in the soft, dark earth, a trail of her passage in the wild. She liked the feeling. She felt like an animal, a creature of the forest.
She walked for about half an hour and saw a faint path leading away from the main track, deep into the woods. The weathered sign with the almost unreadable letters “DO NOT ENTER” stuck by its side. “This must be it,” she thought, and took the path. What could await her there, she thought. What if the sign was there for a reason?
She pointed the phone camera and said quietly, almost whispering: “Hi, it’s Sel. I’m on the track to the secret abandoned factory. See?” She turned the camera sidewise. Actually, there was not much to see, just an old deteriorating track in the woods. “I wonder what that ‘Do not enter’ sign means. Spooky! If I don’t post another video in a day, assume that the witch got me, haha! Wish me luck, boys! And subscribe if you want to see more!”
The path narrowed, the branches of the pine trees closing overhead, creating a green, sun-dappled tunnel. The sounds of the forest grew louder: the chirping of unseen birds, the rustle of a small animal in the undergrowth, the distant buzzing of an insect. There was no other human soul. She felt her pulse quicken, a thrilling mix of anticipation and a primal, instinctive caution. She was utterly alone.
The track led her to a rusted metal fence. A large hole was cut in it, big enough for a person to slip through. On the other side, through the fence, she saw three crumbling red brick buildings. The factory was larger than she expected, a monstrosity of industrial decay. Most of the windows were broken, dark vacant eyes staring back at her. A rusted iron staircases zigzagged up the exterior wall to high, boarded-up doors. Vines choked the brickwork, tendrils reaching for the roof. The whole place looked like a sleeping monster.
She squeezed through the hole in the fence, the jagged metal scraping lightly against her sundress. The yard in front of the buildings, covered with old, weathered asphalt, was full of small stones, rusty and decaying things, and black spots of spilt oil. Wonderful! Sel filmed her bare feet probing for safe spots as she walked through.
The creepy, ominous atmosphere was weighing her down. Shivering with excitement, she thought she would be disappointed if there were only dull, empty buildings and no maniacs, tentacle monsters, or at least a couple of hobos to rape her. She giggled as she imagined filming an OnlyFans video while wrapped in slimy tentacles, with one of them holding the phone for her.
All three buildings were equally desolate. She came to the middle one, the largest, a long, warehouse-like structure. The huge double doors on its ground floor were half-open. Dark and silent, they were gaping like a giant’s mouth. An invitation. Or a trap.
Sel stepped inside, filming everything on her way. The air inside the factory was immediately different. Cool, still, heavy. It smelled of damp brick, rust, dust, and something else, a faint, sour tang of decay. Light struggled through the grimy, cobweb-laced windows, illuminating swirling dust motes. The space was cavernous, a high ceiling lost in shadows. In the center stood a massive, rusted hulk of some old machinery, gears and pipes frozen in a state of eternal rest.
“Hello? Any monsters here?” she called, her voice echoing slightly in the vast emptiness.
No answer but the fluttering of a pigeon disturbed by her call. A bird flew through an open door of a room adjoining the main hall, scaring the girl and making her heart jump.
Okay. Nothing. She went to check that room. At first glance, there was nothing there, just a pile of old wooden pallets slowly eaten by the moss. Puddles of muddy water splashed under her bare feet; the roof was leaking here. Sel sighed – the sights were quite artistic, but nothing more, and she started thinking of beginning the new series of OnlyFans videos, starting with the “Masturbating in dangerous places: part I, Abandoned Factory”. She sat on a cleanish-looking dry patch of cement and propped her phone on a pallet, making sure the shot was good. The hem of her sundress naturally rode up her thighs.
“Hello, my OnlyFans slut friends! Here I am, all alone in this scary factory. All alone and bored,” she said in her sexiest, breathiest voice, making a pout. “So I think I’ll have to entertain myself…”
She began to slowly lift her skirt, a teasing, tantalizing motion, her fingers tracing patterns on her inner thigh. Then she pulled it off and threw it at the pile of pallets, remaining naked and vulnerable in a rusty and decaying industrial setting.
Click. Crack. Pause. A writhing sound. Pause. Crack.
It wasn’t the camera shutter. It was the sound of a door. Or a heavy metal plate. Or a latch.
Sel froze, her hand mid-air. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird in a cage. She sprang to her feet. The idea of encountering a monster lost its appeal at once.
A movement, caught by the corner of her eye. She turned sharply. Something black and glistening, coiling by the wall like a snake. Eeek! She hated snakes! But… it was too long for a snake, unless someone brought a tropical boa here. The second movement. The third one. The things were all around her, narrowing the circle.
She stared at her phone, safely mounted, still recording, and quickly said: “I don’t know what this shit is, but it’s really scary! I’ll try to get free, but at least I hope someone will see the video!” She sobbed and regretted not turning on the live streaming.
She got ready to grab her dress and phone, and dart to the exit, when two black snake-like things descended over the doorframe, blocking it. Sel squealed, then tried to scream: “Heeeelp!” – perfectly knowing that nobody would hear her here. The scream came out a little weak. Oh God. Oh God. It looked like a real tentacle monster from hentai! But there are no real tentacle monsters! Whatever this shit is, it’s not going to fuck her… It’ll probably just eat her alive…
“Aaaaaah! Heeeelp!” This time the scream came out properly. The nearest black tentacle whipped through the air and wrapped itself around her ankle. Another two shot from the shadows, wrapping around her other ankle and her wrists, spread-eagling her in mid-air, her bare feet dangling, a perfect X shape.
Her mind went blank with pure terror, her body slack. But then she felt the tentacles. They were not the slimy, oozing appendages of her nightmares. They were smooth, almost rubbery, warm to the touch. They were also surprisingly gentle, their grip firm but unyielding, not crushing her. It was almost… considerate.
One more tentacle, thicker than the others, raised like a menacing cobra before her naked, suspended body. Its tip opened and squirted a bit of clear slime.
Sel’s mind reeled. This was impossible. And yet… The initial wave of terror receded, replaced by a dizzying, surreal wave of fascination. Her OnlyFans subscribers… her followers… they were going to lose their minds. This was it. The jackpot. The ultimate taboo, the fantasy of thousands of basement-dwelling weebs made real. She was living in a hentai. The thought was so absurd, so utterly insane, that a strange, hysterical giggle bubbled out of her trembling lips.
She looked straight at the camera of her phone that was still safely recording. “Oh God. Oh God! Boys, it’s a real tentacle monster! They really exist! It’s not a generated video, I swear! It’s real real! I hope I’ll live through it to upload this video…”
The tentacles were slowly wrapping themselves around her arms and legs, getting close to her body, spreading her further, so she felt a slight pain in her joints. Three more cobra-like ones raised before her. They had no suckers. They looked like… polished black ebonite, or a very high-quality plastic, covered with ribs and bumps. No eyes, no teeth. Their ends were slightly bulging, with a small hole at the tip, oozing the same clear, viscous liquid. And their movements… they were not random, not chaotic. They were deliberate, graceful, like they were being controlled by some unseen, instinctive force.
Sel watched, mesmerized, as one of the new tentacles, the largest one, extended towards her face. It slowed, its bulbous head hovering just inches from her parted lips. A single, pearly drop of the clear fluid welled up at the tip. With surprising gentleness, the tentacle extended further, and its tip slowly traced her lips, leaving a glistening wet trail. The fluid was slightly warm and had a faint, sweet, spicy, almost vanilla-like smell.
Her instinct was to scream, to bite, to recoil. But she didn’t. She was trapped, and fighting was useless. So, for the lack of other options, she gave a small, experimental lick at the offered tip.
The flavor was the same as the smell – sweet and spicy, a bit like honey, a bit like pepper, a bit like… some candy. It was pleasant!
Sel hesitated, but not for long. She watched enough hentai to understand that her options were quite limited. Either she participates willingly and tries to get maximum pleasure from it— or she participates unwillingly. And she wasn’t in the mood to film the screaming tentacle rape scene. She opened her mouth wider.
The tentacle nudged forward. Her lips, still wet from the monster’s fluid, parted to accept it. She felt the firm, smooth head press against her tongue, the ridged shaft sliding past her teeth. It filled her, stretching her jaw but not painfully so, a warm, alien presence. She could feel the faint thrum of power within it, a deep, resonant vibration that seemed to travel directly down her throat. Another drop of that sweet, slightly spicy fluid coated her tongue. She didn’t gag. She just closed her lips around the black intruder and began to suck, her tongue swirling around the ridges, exploring its impossible texture.
Aaand… the intruder did not taste or feel like a living thing! She deep-throated herself with the dildos hundreds of times; she knew the feeling. The thing was made of plastic, or rubber, or some similar shit. Sel opened her eyes wide. So… what is it? A runaway assembly robot, a byproduct of spontaneous machine evolution, someone’s crazy experiment, or…? Oh God, Sel, what are you thinking while being spread before the tentacles invasion!
As she responded to the tentacle’s gentle prodding, she felt another one move between her splayed legs. She was terrified of what came next. But there was no violent thrust, no brutal invasion. Instead, the slender, warm appendage gently, reverently, touched her pussy lips. It paused there for a moment as if waiting for permission, then slowly slid between the sensitive folds. Sel trembled, a mixture of fear and a strange, unwanted, growing arousal. It found her clit, the sensitive bud swelling at its touch, and began a slow, circular caress, a mix of touch, slightly burning liquid, and a humming vibration.
This was insane! Not only does a tentacle monster exist, but it’s good at foreplay!
She freed her mouth for a second, and shouted to the camera: “It’s not alive! It’s a robot! A crazy fucking robot! And it’s gooood!” And her mouth was plugged again.
Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Her phone kept recording, faithfully capturing this impossible scene. She imagined the flood of notifications, the disbelief, the wild speculation that would erupt once she got out of here. IF she got out. A fresh jolt of fear, a cold shard of ice in the warm haze of her arousal. But then the tentacle in her mouth slid a little deeper, the one on her clit hummed a little louder, and the shard of ice melted, replaced by the insistent heat of surrender. This was happening. There was no escape, only this sensation, this bizarre intimacy with a mechanical predator.
Two more tentacles that were hovering before her moved in. Slick with the fluid, they began a slow, gentle exploration of her firm breasts, tracing their shape, avoiding the hardening nipples for now, circling, teasing. The touch was electric, leaving tingling trails in its wake. Her body, against all reason, was starting to respond. Her hips began to rock involuntarily, and she gave out a small moan.
It was the signal. The breast tentacles opened their tips like petals, and sucked firmly to her nipples, squeezing her breasts in their tight but careful grip. Sel shuddered from the light electric discharges that went through her small, firm buds. Not exactly pain, not exactly pleasure. Intense, unnatural.
The one on her clit turned into sucking, too— and a thicker appendage slowly entered her pussy. Not as thick as a good cock, but decent, ridged and bumpy and warm, and infinitely long, pressing insistently against her wet entrance. She tensed, bracing herself. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it. But the thing didn’t ask for permission this time. It nudged past her outer lips, stretching her entrance, and slowly, inexorably, slid inside. Sel’s back arched, a strangled cry catching in her half-occupied throat. The friction was perfect, a sweet, steady glide that hit every nerve ending. It didn’t thrust like a human. It pulsed, a rhythmic, rippling wave, like swallowing with her vagina. Her walls clenched around it, welcoming the alien fullness.
Her mind tried to hang onto logic. “A robot… It’s just a very, very advanced sex doll… Maybe a prototype, a test unit…”
But the logic was shredded to pieces as another tentacle probed at the tight pucker of her ass that still remembered a sweet Marek’s morning fuck. It confidently prepared the way for its entry, touching, massaging, and lubricating it— and, with one swift motion, it broke inside. Sel twitched. This was deeper than Marek. Longer, unyielding, its rhythmic pulse perfectly synched with the one in her pussy. She could feel the twin vibrations meeting somewhere deep inside, a crescendo of pressure and pleasure that stole her breath.
She was completely, utterly possessed. A socket for these mechanical appendages.
Her fear was a distant echo, now submerged. She didn’t care if the camera captured her flushed face, her glazed eyes, her parted, saliva-slick lips around the black rod. In fact, she revelled in it. This was the ultimate content. The ultimate transgression.
Let them watch.
Her body was no longer hers. It was a marionette, dancing on the monster’s invisible strings. Her hips bucked and ground, seeking more friction, more depth, more of that perfect, maddening pulse. The tentacle in her ass slid deeper, the ridges caressing her inner walls in a way that made her see stars behind her closed eyelids. The one in her pussy curled slightly, the tip nudging against a spot deep inside that made her whole body convulse.
Her breath came in ragged gasps around the intruder in her mouth. She wanted to laugh, a wild, unhinged sound of a female losing the last shreds of her self-control. More tentacles added to the feast – stroking her soles and sucking her toes, all of them at once, caressing her stomach and belly… wrapping around her neck… and pulling her tangled red hair. Every inch of her skin, previously unknown for how sensitive it can be, was a firing pin, and the creature’s touch was the hammer. She was a crescendo of sensation.
The penetrating tentacles pushed deeper, and deeper, much deeper than any cock or toy could reach. She wondered for a fleeting second if she could take more – and then she was taking more. The throat tentacle had reached her stomach, the ass one was sliding into the depths of her colon, and the vaginal one – Sel would scream if she could make a sound – had found her cervix and massaged it open! All three holes stretched impossibly around them, and they began a concerted pumping that took her higher, higher, higher. The tentacles on her breasts pumped too, making her nipples almost explode; the massaging tendrils sent waves of wonderful electric discharges all over her skin, and the clitoral one— The feeling of being opened, being used so thoroughly, was a kind of liberation.
Then the first orgasm hit her. It was unlike anything she experienced before. It originated not from one or two of her sensitive spots; it swept over from the whole lengths of the penetrating tentacles, from all her insides at once. She never knew her internals were so sensitive! Her legs spasmed, her back arched into a painful curve, but the tentacles held her, stretched her wide. A spray of clear fluid squirted from her pussy, dousing the floor. Her vision went white. For a long, timeless moment, there was only the thrumming vibration and the overwhelming, crashing waves of release.
When the world came back into focus, it was different. The fear was gone. The hesitation was gone. All that remained was a wanton, greedy hunger for more. She stared into her phone’s lens, her pupils blown wide with pleasure. She imagined her followers watching, their hands moving in the dark, their fantasies laid bare on the screen as hers was in this abandoned factory.
The thing responded to her silent demand, or maybe it was pre-programmed to follow her body’s reactions. The pumping rhythm changed, became a stuttering, pulsing pattern that pushed her relentlessly towards a second peak. Another orgasm crashed through her, and another. One flowed into another without respite, until she lost count. She was just a bundle of raw nerves and screaming pleasure, suspended in a web of slick, black rubber.
The last thing she remembered, before her consciousness finally fractured and gave way to blissful oblivion, was the feeling of being filled, stretched, pumped with that wonderfully burning liquid… not just by one tentacle, but by all of them. A wave of warmth spread through her, from her core to her fingertips and toes, a final, gentle benediction.
Then the darkness enveloped her.
When she woke up, she didn’t know how much later it was. A shaft of sunlight cut across the dusty floor, illuminating a swirling column of dust motes like a celestial pathway. The air was still and silent. She was lying on her back, naked on the hard, cold floor, all covered with the clean, viscous liquid. Her head felt heavy. She ached in places she didn’t know could ache. A deep, satisfying languor settled in her muscles, a profound sense of being thoroughly and utterly used. Her stomach was bulging out, and she felt the liquid oozing out from both her bottom holes.
She scrambled on her fours and vomited the same liquid. Oh God, how much of it did she take inside? She stood up on unsteady, wobbling legs. Ooohhh… She had never been so thoroughly satisfied…
Her sundress, thrown off hours ago, was lying in a pool of the same clear, sweet-smelling fluid. She took it, and reached for her phone. It was standing safely in its place, on the wooden pallet. She reached for it. It was out of battery. She put it into her neck purse; it was also intact, and it had a couple of power banks inside. She will sort it out later. First of all, she had to get out of here.
Leaving glistening footprints, Sel hobbled toward the exit. Nothing stopped her. The thing disappeared as completely as if it had never been there. No residue, no broken mechanisms, no signs of its existence— just the puddles of its slime on the floor and the empty, echoing factory around her. A fever dream? An industrial-strength hallucination? She touched her sore nipples, the lingering ache deep in her ass, the gentle throb of her well-used pussy. The ghostly sensations in her guts were undeniable proof. It was real.
She reached the entrance and stepped out into the forest, not caring to put on her slime-soaked dress. The late afternoon sun dappled through the pines, and the world smelled of life and resin. She looked back at the dark maw of the factory doorway. The monster was no longer there.
She felt utterly exhausted; her limbs felt like lead, her bare feet ached, and her legs had small tremors of fatigue. So much for continuing the journey to the town. She needed to rest, and she needed to eat something soon. And she had to clean up. She remembered a pond she saw on her way in… She started walking back along the path, one slow, painful step at a time. She would come back. She would upload the video.
The pond was where she remembered it. It was a murky and stagnant pond, full of duckweed, but she did not care. She splashed in it, cleaning herself, and washed her dress. Then she wrung out her dress and hung it on a branch to dry, and sat naked and cross-legged on the grass.
Now the phone. “Please, please work…” Sel prayed, plugging in the power bank. After several eternity-long seconds, the LED blinked, and the screen showed the quick-charge animation. Phew. She turned it on and waited for it to boot. Then she looked for the video.
Wow! The recording took a whole five hours! She fast-forwarded it. Her own moans and sobs, the slick black appendages, her legs held wide apart, her body convulsing, the squirting clean liquid, her belly distended. The image was steady and clear; the phone’s microphone even caught the rustling tentacle sounds. Perfect! She quickly cut the end where she was lying unconscious in the puddle of slime, with her pregnant-like belly bulging out, after the tentacles had squirmed away. It was still almost two hours of action! She waited for it to upload to OnlyFans, then pressed ‘Publish’. She’ll be a sensation!
Ten minutes later, her phone rang. Her mother was checking on her daughter. Sel smiled and answered the call.
“Hi mom!” Her voice was unusually low and hoarse after all that throat-fucking.
“Sel? Sel! Thank God, you are alive! What the hell have you messed yourself into?”
Sel chuckled. “You won’t believe, Mom! But I’m here, in one piece, and feeling better than ever! How much have you seen?”
“I’m watching on fast forward. Still only 15%. Two hours! God, what is that thing? We’re all watching it at your dad’s home office, all three of us, and we can’t believe our eyes! Your dad is ready to form a rescue party!”
“Aww, how sweet of him! But it’s okay, Mom. It’s over. I think I just got a world-class, custom-designed, hentai-style automatic milking and fucking station by an escaped research robot from Area 51!” She giggled.
“I think I’m going to faint. Do you want us to come for you? We can be at your GPS location in about three hours.”
Sel considered it. A car ride home, a hot bath, her mother’s caring hands, her dad’s and brothers’ eager, questioning ones… the thought was so, so tempting. But the adventure wasn’t over. The factory was still behind her, and she hadn’t been truly raped today.
“No, it’s okay, Mom. Really,” she said, and she was surprised by the strength in her own voice. “Really really. I’m still in this. The challenge is not over. I’m going to make it all the way. Besides, I want to see what happens when that video hits the internet. I wonder if I get to the Top 1 of the whole OnlyFans! But, I think…” Sel chuckled again, “if you are really interested, try going to this place; you know the location… Enter the smaller room to the left of the main hall. Naked. And wait for it. You’ll LOVE it, believe me!”
She listened to her mother’s sharp intake of breath. This was her ultimate transgression, daring her mother, her slut idol, her role model, to do the same reckless thing. She imagined her mother’s shock and surprise.
“You… You’re serious,” the mother’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Of course, Mom, what’s life without taking risks?” Sel ended the call with a giggle, feeling a powerful, empowering thrill. “Mom, I never had a better fuck in my life! It was the first time I ever fainted from orgasms! Bye, Mom! Love you!”
She looked at the pond’s surface, still ruffled by her recent plunge. Her face, framed by wet curls, stared back. Freckles stood out against pale skin slightly flushed by her recent ordeal. Her lips looked swollen. But her eyes, her wide hazel eyes, were alight with a fierce, wild light. The exhaustion was still there, but beneath it, a hum of potential energy thrummed.
She stood up. The grass was soft and cool under her feet. She picked up her sundress. It was still damp, but the afternoon sun would dry it quickly. She pulled it over her head. The rougher wet cotton felt strange against her skin after the smooth, sleek touch of… it. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. The memories of the pleasure she got… and the anticipation of the more to come.
She walked towards the exit of the forest, to the highway. She’ll pick up a car and, with any luck, will have dinner, recharge, and more sex!
Just one thing bugged her. Nora and Marek advised her to visit the abandoned factory. Did they know? Had they visited this place themselves? She was sure about it.
They had.
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