*First post!*
*Look, this is a ‘what if but hot’ take on cosmic horror. Like, what if someone had an experience with this this mindbendingly alien cosmic being, but as much as they were scared they were also into it?*
*It goes hard – while it’s not super bloody in the traditional sense, there’s an intense amount of body horror. Seriously, don’t keep reading if you’re not down with that – you’ve been warned. I can say that there is nothing nonconsensual in this, there’s no scenes of pain / aggression and no other potentially problematic taboos other than the body horror.*
*That said, my aim is to give everybody esoteric new kinks that they feel a bit weird and also secretly excited about having. So y’know, if you are down to stretch that comfort zone out a bit, read on.*
>!The girl from the reception is beckoning me outside, into the garden, and I am only too happy to oblige – if I hear Rollins brag about his new motorcar one more time I think Wilson may put arsenic in his champagne. I know I have been staring at her – no doubt it will be a source of some amusement at the club when next we meet – but it has been impossible not to. Everything about her is arresting, and I am drawn to her in a way I have never experienced. I am young, to be sure, but I am not so young as to be unaware of my callowness – yet even so this woman feels… excitingly unique.!<
>!I would not have dared to make an advance to her. But now she is leading me into the darkness of the garden. Her skin, alabaster white under the warm gas lights of the house, appears almost blue under the cold moon, the freckles which dot her nose and cheeks almost black. The moon is bright, though, and the smile which curls her lip is a hook into my own, dragging me onward as she looks around to take my hand and lead me toward the boat house.!<
>!Her skin is cool and incredibly soft and smooth, and as my hand touches hers a thrill of excitement washes through me – but an excitement tinged with fear. There is something about her, something uncanny and terrifying, but something for which I nevertheless yearn. Her eyes – there is a fractional delay between their movements. I find myself watching out for it, anticipating the tiny thrill each time I glimpse it. And her gait, too – although I am now unsteadily picking my way behind her down the stony beach of the lake, she seems to merely float along above it unencumbered by the terrain, the hem of her gown moving smoothly over the pebbles.!<
>!She opens the door of the boathouse, and wordlessly ushers me in. It is dark inside. The windows were boarded long ago, and only cracks of moonlight seep in. But then the room lightens fractionally, and I quickly realise the source of the faint illumination is her. Her skin, as blue here as it was in the moonlight, shines with a pale radiance, and I feel like I can almost see shadowy patterns moving beneath its surface. A deeper fear grips me now, and I would be running for the door were the entire spectacle not so eerily beautiful. Her face has lost none of its girlish charm; her smile is as intoxicating as it has been all evening, and the sharp black points of her very modern haircut frame her cheekbones in a deep V. Above her turned up button nose, her freckles seem to fade in and out of view in waves. I am as enthralled as I am scared.!<
>!I take a step backwards and trip on a coil of rope, landing hard on my back. She stands over me, still smiling her sweet smile, and reaches behind her head to unclasp the top of her gown. Slowly she works her way down, reaching behind her in a motion which would surely hurt a normal woman. But she is no normal woman. The final clasp undone, she allows the gown to fall to the ground, hands by her sides, palms facing me. My terror is only matched by whatever spell her terrible beauty and my own fascination have together cast on me. Below her breasts, her body splits, over and over, bifurcating and multiplying into a forest of smoothly undulating tendrils which become thinner and more delicate as they near the ground. She has no belly, or waist, or hips, or legs; from her chest down she dissolves into a slowly swaying mass of fronds, fading pale blue to white and as luminescent as the rest of her. I see them gently brush against each other and separate a little, now that their need to mimic a human form is gone, and even as my mind reels, some part of me imagines them caressing my own skin, pictures how it would feel to pass through that forest and feel it brush against me. I see now why her gait is so smooth; she walks on a hundred soft feet. I see why her movements are so fluid; she has no bones. I know that I should be screaming, that my mind should be obliterated by what I am seeing, but I am not, and it is not. I simply reach a trembling hand toward her.!<
>!One of her tendrils lifts and reaches out toward me in turn; I cannot make out the texture of its surface, but it is translucent and moves without any trace of a wrinkle or a joint. At its tip is a round opening which seems to move of its own volition, mouthing wordless, noiseless syllables to me. This has all happened in silence, broken only by the sound of my movements. I feel dirty, and clumsy, a poor ungainly animal scrabbling in the mud in front of her effortless elegance. Her tendril touches my outstretched hand. A kiss. It is the sensation of a kiss, impossible yet unmistakable on my fingers. I close my eyes for a brief moment and her tendril kisses me again, on the hand, and she might as well be kissing me with her own lips.!<
>!When I open my eyes her face is inches from my own. I yelp, but she strokes my face with her almost incongruously human hand and pulls me in to kiss me on the mouth. I reciprocate wholeheartedly; nothing in this world could draw me away from her at this point. Her lips are soft and she kisses passionately, and as we break apart I hear the slightest gasp, the only sound I have heard from her so far.!<
>!As we kiss, I feel her tendrils caressing my body, transferring her weight onto me – but when we break apart, her face carries a new expression, one of nervousness and worry. She raises my hand, and one of her tendrils raises up alongside it. I see a flash of brilliant silver, as if the mouth were lined with mercury, before it suddenly closes over my little finger. I jump, startled by the sudden movement, and as I take in what I am seeing I realise what she is.!<
>!The end joint of my little finger is missing, sheared off cleanly as if with a razor. There is no blood; spilling it would be a waste of food. There is no pain; fighting a thrashing, struggling victim would be a waste of energy. She is a predator, and I am her prey. Then I look in her eyes again, and I see the pleading there. I am her prey… if I want to be.!<
>!She raises my newly lessened finger to her lips, and ever so delicately sticks out her tongue, like a cheeky schoolchild. A thin black spine flickers out from its tip to prick the wound; the prick of this I feel for just a second, before I am sent reeling. A sensation passes over me, a sensation of emptiness and freedom and horror and openness and loneliness and connection. For the briefest of seconds I see myself, a tiny speck on the tiniest speck of deep time, constrained, tied to a pathetic mannequin of meat and bone. I see her, for a fraction of a moment, larger than a galaxy, older than worlds, horrifying, beautiful, inconceivable. She is offering me my freedom, she is offering me endlessness, she is offering me joys that are beyond galactic in scope, unknowable and unimaginable, joining her to travel in cosmic bliss. If I allow my mortal body to be her prey now.!<
>!I look at her pleading expression for a long time. I think of the ropes which bind me down in my day to day life, I think of the constrictions which define who I am, how I act, the codes which prevent me from ending up in darkened boat houses kissing unfathomably beautiful galactic predators. I slowly nod my head.!<
>!She smiles again, and begins kissing me, deeply and passionately. I feel my shirt buttons being undone, I feel my belt being unfastened by dextrous tendrils, as still more slip between the fabric and kiss me all over. I gasp and arch my back against the sensation. It is a hundred times as intense as anything I have experienced, and as terrifying as it is exalting. I am charging toward my death with joyous abandon.!<
>!I am naked now, and the tendrils caress me, stroke me, their silky softness brushing my skin like the touch of the tenderest lover. Her eyes remain locked on mine, their irises glowing brighter now and her breath coming in beautiful little gasps.!<
>!I feel a roughness on my side, a rasp as though of a cat’s tongue, and I look down to see one of her tendrils hovering above the side of my belly, above a clean, almost perfectly round wound; the flesh has been bitten away as cleanly as if I were made of cake. I see a silvery substance on the edges of the wound. Some detached part of my mind muses that it must be a venom to prevent pain and bleeding.!<
>!Another tendril dives to the same area, and another; With an increasingly detached sense of wonder I feel them carve away at me. I see one dive inside me, and I feel it wriggle in my belly. I see it moving, a smooth bulge gliding inside of me. Still more kisses, still more rasps at my legs. I realise that while I was preoccupied with my belly, my feet have already been taken, and much of my lower legs. Already I feel lesser, I understand innately that a part of me is gone, and a strange feeling of freedom washes briefly through my head. I picture myself releasing the rest of me, sending parts of myself away to be free from the prison of having to carry my mind around.!<
>!More tendrils have burrowed their way inside me now, and my abdomen moves and undulates with them. I see pieces of me moving along their translucent length with a slight bulge, and I watch as a tendril withdraws, leaving me hollow and empty. One hovers over my hips and then my penis is gone, followed by a good portion of my pelvis. Her hundred mouths slice through bone as cleanly and easily as you might take a bite of cake.!<
>!While I have been concentrating on the work of my lover’s tendrils, she has been busy. She draws my attention back to her face, and kisses me again. She has an expression of intense, joyful ecstasy that I can only match; as I have allowed myself to swim in this new sea I have slowly become more and more connected to her cosmic consciousness. It is a searing pain, my mind is stretched and contorted, but it is the pain of birth, of creation, and with it comes a pleasure just as searing, a white hot feeling of stretching, of flying, of expanding beyond anything I have known. Looking into her eyes, I am reminded of her earthly form and am snapped back into myself for a second.!<
>!I go to caress her face, but my arm is gone almost to the elbow without me realising; she steadies the stump between her palms and, maintaining eye contact, takes a large bite, swallowing without chewing. Her teeth have become a single silver blade. I try to wriggle, to arch my back in ecstasy, but there is little of me left now; muscles pull against nothing and the rags of my body twitch like a salted steak. Only my head, upper chest and the stub of a single arm remain of me. I try to gasp but my lungs cannot draw air; nothing is left to expand them, and shortly I will need nothing to fill them. She kisses me again. I feel one of her tendrils reach into me, inside my chest, and caress my rapidly beating heart. I look her in the eyes and nod yes please. As everything spins away from me, the last thing I feel on this plane of existence is her lips.!<
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/11abzmu/erotic_horror_short_read_a_young_gentleman_of