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* Wooden lattice-screen, which plays the role of mobile walls in the house. - approx. auth.

Ayame was deathly, unbearably wanted to pour out, and she begged her husband for this mercy, but Rafu was adamant. Bringing her to half-madness, he weakened her caresses, soothed her with gliding touches, leaving only a smoldering fire of lust in the depths of her body - and he inflamed him again, and again brought Ayame to screams and prayers ...

Having done so three times, he suddenly left the hut.

The distraught Ayame writhingly, sitting down in a burning bosom on the void. She called Rafa, tearing her throat until she was hoarse and closed her eyes, and did not go limp on the ropes - and only then Rafu returned, approached her and seized her; and at that very moment, when his ud touched the cherished point, Ayame poured out in mortal relief, splashing his clothes.

It seemed to her then that Rafa had sprouted deeply into her, right up to her heart, like an octopus tentacle, and it was so painful and so blissful that with the moisture of voluptuousness she almost let go of life. Curving in a sweet convulsion, she collapsed on Rafa with shoji, where she was tied with ropes, which wiped her skin to the blood ...

After this execution, Rafu was affectionate with Ayame, more than ever, and she, happy that he forgave her, never told him about the old man and the insidiousness of fiery edisugusuri.

***

For some time in the life of Ayame, something has changed.

Outwardly, everything remained as it was: Ayame still did not see anyone except her husband, and still did not suffer from loneliness. She was abundant with Rafa, his caress, the lust that he aroused in her, his stories about the sea - and the sea itself, immense, alive, full of wonders and secrets, every minute and every day.

Ayame learned to talk to the sea, and it often seemed to her that it responded to her words and even her thoughts. She wandered along the shore with Rafa or alone, she collected shells, rolled in the sand, built churches and ridges of it like a child, swam along the whole bay and did not wear clothes for weeks, having learned to live naked like a beast.

There was no worries on her, except for the easy care of the house and the preparation of food. Rafu taught her to cook amazing food, and it was as interesting as his stories. After a hard life in a village, its idleness by the sea seemed like a dream, the days as long as the years, and the months as endless as the sea itself. Every day was a whole life: with dawn Ayame was born, by noon she gained strength, by dusk she died, exhausted by idleness, sea and lust, to be reborn in the morning.

Inside, she felt the same girl as at home, and Rafu was as old for her as her father and mother. But at the same time even she could see how quickly and strongly she changed. She entered the house of Rafa as a thin child with narrow hips and small tubercles that raised her nipples; now her thighs were almost twice as wide, and her breasts grew so much that they began to sway when walking. It was beautiful, but very unusual: Ayame could not realize that she now had a body like her mother, and for a long time stood in front of a large bronze mirror, weighing her new adult breasts with her palms. Rafu caressed them, with strong, demanding fingers, like a mother poured rice dough; it was pleasant to tears, and after such a massage Ayame felt like her breasts were poured with a tight tickling juice.

Another new was - dreams.

From the very beginning of Ayame's life, she began to dream amazing dreams about the sea. In them she traveled like a fish, through the fabulous depths, through unprecedented underwater villages and princedoms. She did not memorize any of these dreams, except for the feeling of miracles that had come true, which did not leave her on awakening.

She understood that these dreams were born to the stories of Rafa and impressions from the sea, but she still believed that she was traveling in a dream through deep depths inaccessible to mere mortals.

Once she had a completely different dream.

It happened on the night after the Great Punishment. In the dream, Ayame lay naked with red stones and listened to the surf (she often did this in reality).

The sun warmed her, and sometimes hot and burning like sparks, splashing waves crashing against the stones sometimes fell on the hot skin.

Her body was filled with tickling languor, swollen in the nipples and in the womb: although Ayame poured out, but Punishment was so cruel that in the depths embers of unremitting lust smoldered. After all that was, she was ashamed to ask Rafa for caressing ...

Suddenly Ayame started. It seemed to her that cold snakes had crawled over her.

Opening her eyes, she screamed loudly: a huge octopus approached her. His tentacles wrapped her arms and legs, and she fought, frantic with horror, looking at how his terrible mouth was approaching her bosom - closer, closer and closer ... Tentacles twisted her nipples, rooted in them, like roots, enveloped Ayame's body - and a huge mouth sucked into the open bosom. Helpless Ayame was at his mercy.

She screamed, howled, called for help - but her mind was turbulent, and the bundles did not close in horror, disgust, and from wet, painful lust that pierced her body from top to bottom - through her nipples and womb to the core, to the hot depths of the womb. The octopus devoured her bosom, gnawed and sucked it, and cold as an alga, tongue penetrated Ayame into her vagina and further, further, into the deepest depths, where he had not even been Rafa, and licked her from the inside with a cold cold ...

It was worse than pain, worse than any torture; worse than death. Ayame fell into the abyss of horror and pleasure, which was so painful because she knew that she was dying, that the octopus was devouring her, and that soon, very soon she would not be there, she would disappear, dissolve without a trace in this wet mouth ...

She awoke to her scream. Next was Rafu.

“Did you have a dream, Ayame?”

“Yyyyyy ...” she cried, clutching his hand. If he was not there, she probably would have gone mad.

She did not tell Rafa about her dream: it was too shameful. But after a couple of nights, the huge octopus appeared again and captured it. The dream repeated: again, again and again she came to the red stones, lay down, closed her eyes and waited, dying from sweet horror, when wet snakes would crawl over her body. She specially came there, and the octopus specially appeared to grow into her nipples with wet tentacles, suck her bosom and lick it from the inside with a long, cold tongue.

Over time, the dream began to grow into new details: the octopus dragged Ayame into the sea, and there she sank in the icy depths or swayed on the waves, like a limp rag, dissolving into the salty foam and the abyss of the skies looking at her.

Once a small octopus appeared with him. He wrapped Ayame’s head in a cold, salty mouth on her lips, as she didn’t dodge him. The pulsing tongue penetrated her mouth, filled it to the top, flowed into the throat, pierced the heart and liver with a wet lightning, flowed into the womb and intertwined there with the tongue of a large octopus. Ayame was a bead, put on a living, pulsating thread of woven tongues, and two greedy mouths sucked it from two sides, helpless, like a fly in honey. The feeling of not belonging to herself, full of helplessness, complete dependence on someone else's power so struck her that for several days after this dream she wandered like a somnambulist, seeing nothing before herself.

Once a tentacle of an octopus suddenly penetrated into her anus, reached ... Read more →