Tanked (3)

“He’s almost rut-red.”

“Yes, I know. We found her just in time, I think.”

“She doesn’t have any idea?”

“It’s not within her field of expertise. She’s a paper pusher, William. She’s happy with her first paycheck, and we’ve kept her responsibilities to a minimum. And he doesn’t frighten her anymore, nor any of the others. She’s acclimating well to being around them in the tank.”

The old man leaned back in his chair. He didn’t have many months left, but he was determined to see his work carried forward. His eldest son, William, was sometimes a bit too eager. He thought more about the sexual aspects, than of the bigger picture. Hopefully Wyeth, his younger brother, would provide the necessary balance.

“If he’s that red, it could be later today,” William postulated. The old man shook his head.

“Tomorrow. At the soonest, tomorrow.”

“Should I send out the invites today, for tomorrow?”

“Invitations, William. Your mother would roll over at your lapse in grammar.” He paused, staring at his son for a moment. The younger man had the grace to flush a bit.

“Shall I send out the invitations, Father?” His voice was just this side of sarcastic. This generation! So rude.  He inclined his head in a nod reminiscent of royalty, and William left the room, presumably to send out the e-vites for the big event.

**************************************

She sang a little song under her breath as she worked. She never remembered the artists names anymore, they all blurred together…well, except Lady Gaga. That one was pretty memorable. But it came to her that she was happy. 

In a way, it was almost unexpected. She’d gotten over the shock of being touched by the giant squid she’d taken to calling Sid. She loved the rhyming ridiculousness of it, Sid the Squid. It humanized him a bit, taking away the initial, shocking revulsion she’d felt. She still went into the tank, several times a day. The two men who hung around from time to time were actually Mr. Wither’s sons. She still hated William. He was a prick. But the other guy was okay. Wyeth. William watched her with a thinly veiled suggestive leer. He seemed to always be the guard when she went into the tank. She worked hard to ignore his leering gaze as she shrugged out of her thin dress and into the pool, naked. She would swim to the center of the tank to play with Sid, or move around the side to clean it. There was always a thin crust of salt that built up where water met tank. Not that it affected Sid that she was in the tank at those times to work. He turned every trip into the tank into an experience. If someone had told her two weeks ago that she’d be swimming naked in a giant fish tank while a giant squid played “dunk ’em” with her…she’d have laughed in their face.

Her lovely first paycheck belied that this was a “game”. And truth to tell, she was sore most nights after her 4th or 5th trek into the pool. Sid was careful, but he was strong. She had lots of bruises from tight grips on wrists, ankles, legs and belly.

And the stupid sucker marks. Round red bruises that faded in a day or so, but looked like she’d been hit with a pink bingo dauber each night.

And sometimes it felt like she’d never be done, when he or one of the shier squid swam up and stole her sponge. They’d throw it across the tank, and she’d have to swim to get it…only to find it snatched under at the last second. She’d tread water, then dive down, to see one of the little buggers lazily cruising just under her feet with it.

They were very careful to not keep her below water too long. Obviously they understood that she needed to be above to live. Today they were all being exceptionally clingy. She had no idea what was up with the little guys but every time she went into the pool, they swam up to her, wrapping her arms, legs, torso in their tentacles. Honestly, today she’d spent more time petting squid than cleaning their tank!

She  finished tidying around the room, watered the tropical plants, picked up the candy wrappers that she knew William just dropped on the floor to annoy her. And like clockwork, just as she was ready to go into the tank, there he was, standing and watching her undress.

“You’re a real perv, you know that, right?” She hadn’t been entirely aware that she was going to say that…and he was the boss’s son. Still, it was said now…. and he was a perv.  She glared at him as she slipped out of her shoes, delaying the inevitable moment when she would pull her dress over her head. For a moment, he just smiled at her.

“Come over here and say that, little girl.”

She was not a little girl. The jerk! And no fucking way was she going over there. She scowled at him, which only made him laugh. The door opened again.

“William.” It was Mr. Withers. “There is a delivery at the back door. Would you please assist? I’ll watch Ms. Butler while she is in the tank.”

Oh. She’d had no idea that she’d been protected while in the tank. His next comment clarified.

“She won’t need supervision much longer. If she was going to harm them, it would have happened by now.”

“I was never going to harm them…” she began, a bit outraged. His raspy voice interrupted her.

“They are precious and rare creatures, and fragile. Of course there was nothing in your background to indicate that you would do them harm…but I prefer to err on the side of caution. I believe he waits?” She glanced over the at the tank. Indeed, Sid was swimming along the top, occasionally raising a tentacled arm as if to call her in.

“I’m coming, Sid,” she said, slipping off her dress.

“Sid?” His tone was incredulous. “You’ve named one of the rarest of octopi …Sid?”

“Oh, I thought he was a squid. Sid the squid.” She gave a short smile.

“He is a North Pacific Red Octopus;  you will continue learn about him. You know what he eats..” It was half statement, half question.

“Fish. Crustaceans. Small animals. And by the way, Mr. Withers.  I think it’s horrid when William throws mice in here.” She rushed through that little declaration. My, she was quite combative this evening. The woman inside her, who wanted those new pair of shoes, and eagerly anticipated her next paycheck hollered at her to shut the fuck up!

He didn’t seem to notice that she was being difficult.  He shrugged. “The squids enjoy them. It is the way nature works in the ocean, my dear. Eat, or be eaten.”

She shuddered. Not that she liked mice, but watching them swim for their little lives, only to be caught and consumed by squids? It was…unnatural. And that William threw them into the pool while she was in there? So fucking gross. Not just that the mice were disgusting, squeaking and those long tails floating behind them. Oh, that was pretty gross. But when all the squid came arrowing up, and she was surrounded by tentacles, all trying to be the one to catch the poor beast?

She shuddered.

She climbed down the ladder, and when she was up to her knees, just let go. The splash would alert them that she was in.  When she glanced out of the pool, Mr. Withers had gone. Paycheck. She must remember the paycheck.

Sid swam up and encircled her in a squidly hug.

“Hi Sid.” She patted his arm as it curled up and around her torso, the tiny tip rubbing her cheek. He pulled her out to the center of the pool. His tentacles rubbed all along her flesh. She noted his color was very ruddy today, but she’d learned that octopi were able to change their color to suit their environment, the better to blend in. It was part defense, part offense. She’d seen that transformation herself, on one of her journeys to the bottom of the tank. She’d not seen Sid at first, so well did he blend with the bottom of the tank. He was almost the exact same deep green-gray of the large granite boulders that had been placed precisely to create a series of dens for all the tanks denizens. . She’d been wearing a scuba tank, and had been examining the hidden niches. There were tiny, bright-colored clownfish, a forest of green plants, anemone, starfish; why she’d even seen a group of lobster! She’d almost put her hand on the giant squid-octopus- before realizing that it was not part of the rocky outcropping.  Sid had been ecstatic to see her down in his world. She still had bruises from those hugs.

She noticed that he had her well wrapped today. She patted him again. “I’m okay, Sid. really. I like you boy. Good boy.” His suckers kept rubbing across her breasts, and her nipples responded to the stimulation.

“Sid,” she whispered, “don’t touch me there…”

She swore he understood what she said. For a moment, the touch went away, but her relief was short-lived. Suddenly, both her breasts were being fondled. Suckers attached as his tentacles wrapped around her, and the tips of them began massaging and flicking her nipples.

She gasped. Her tits were so sensitive, and she’d often cum just from having a boyfriend squeeze and play with them. Truly they were the gateway to her sex. Her head fell back, her mouth opened, and her clit throbbed. Another tentacle slid between her thighs, rubbing at that sensitive junction. She tried to struggle. Being molested by sea-food was not, definitely NOT, on her bucket list.

She could not deny the response of her body.

It took only seconds until her body jerked. An intense orgasm rolled through her, making her hang limply in the water. She didn’t have much time to recover, as he continued to touch and explore her body. The tip of one tentacle traced the line from the front of her mons to her lower back, sliding all along that crack, but not entering her. As she shuddered through another orgasm, she was thankful, for that heartbeat of awareness, that Mr. Withers had left the room.

**********************************************

“He’s preparing her.”

Mr. Withers stood at the glass wall. It was tinted to keep the animals inside from being disturbed by those who stood here and watched.

“Geezus, Dad, I can’t believe it’s really going to happen. He’s gonna fuck her. And she’s fucking clueless.” Williams voice was raspy with his own excitement. His cock was  hard and throbbing in his pants. He could feel precum leaking, making his boxers wet. Who knew a fucking squid would give him the old rusty zipper?

“I’d guess she’s not so clueless now,” added Wyeth. “So, when will you insert the eggs?”

Mr. Withers looked at his son and smiled. “Soon, very soon now. Go outside and make certain that her car won’t start tonight. We’ll offer to let her stay here, and that way she can play with “Sid” this evening. And of course, I’ll offer compensation for the overnight.”

William snorted out a laugh. “You mean getting fucked royally isn’t compensation enough? Paying her makes her a whore. And whores can expect to be used.”

“William.” His father’s voice was stern.  “You may not touch her until she is done incubating. Understood?”

The big lump in his pants betrayed his excitement, but eventually, William dropped his eyes. “Yes, Father. I understand.”