Elvira wasn’t happy. Bad enough that they were stranded, the radio broken, the airfield deserted, with no way to signal for help and several dozen miles between them and civilization, but she’d slipped a nip in the crash. Normally, no big deal, only this time her loose mammary had shot up and slapped Elvira in the face, giving her a black eye. And normally, that was one of her best features! It was a bad omen.

She reflected on the roller-coaster ride that the day had been. Before the crash, Gordon Vought had been in complete control, having organized the entire trip, confidently arranging every last detail. But with their plane strewn from one end of the landing strip to the other, Gordon seemed to have come aside too. His orders were uncertain, his decisions timid or arbitrary. By the end of the first day, Danny had with quiet certitude usurped the older man from his position of authority.

Gordon was at least well enough to realize he was being challenged and had castigated Danny severely, ranting and raving and blaming Danny for every last facet of the mess they were in. Danny had listened, or at least Gordon vent, long enough for the man to dig his own grave. Then, at Gordon began to tediously repeat himself, he put a stop to it.

“Mr. Vought, I understand that you’re a big deal, a mover and shaker, a man who gets things done. But that’s in your office, sitting at your desk, with all your power a phone call away. You don’t have access to any of that out here and you don’t have any assistants to do your job for you. Decisions have to be made for keeps and I’ve seen you make some pretty foolish calls since we ended up here. Back in your world, all that might do is lose someone his job until he gets scooped up by someone else in your racket. Here, it might mean us not getting out of here alive. I don’t trust anyone else to keep us safe until we’re rescued, so from now on, I’ll be giving the orders.”

A conference-call tyrant Gordon might be, but he knew when it was time for action and the way he saw it, there was only one way to assuage his dignity. He came at Danny with fists flying. But though the decision seemed purely spontaneous to Gordon, he telegraphed it exactly to an alert and ready Danny, who sidestepped the assault and countered with a quick jab.

The blow contained precisely enough force to deflate Vought, who slumped to the ground, shaking his head to clear the glossiness from his eyes.

“You son of a bitch!” he spat, tasting blood in his mouth and feeling it run down the corner of his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

The pilot stood over Vought’s downed body. “I’m sorry you made me do that, but it wasn’t much of a choice. I said I wouldn’t let you get anyone killed and I won’t–not with your bare hands or with your lousy leadership. There’s only one take-charge man to a group: here, it’s me!”

Danny had been on the verge of helping Gordon up, but with the bitterness in Vought’s eyes, it was obvious he wouldn’t accept any amount of magnanimity from the usurper. And Danny wouldn’t embarrass himself by offering it. Elvira went to get Gordon to his feet. She led him, unresisting, to a stream that ran alongside the runway. The icy water, soaked into the hem of Elvira’s borrowed coat, made short work of the superficial bleed.

When they returned, Gordon had nothing to say. Danny was well underway organizing their camp in the abandoned air strip: taking charge of all food, medicine and arms, directing what structures they would take shelter in, and ordering the laying of signal fires. He told Gordon that it would be he who would be handling the first sky-watch. And out of the slowly dawning panic that Gordon had been barely able to stave off, Danny established enough of an order for the morale of the group to stay above sea-level.

***

Elvira still wore the impromptu outfit of trench coat, stockings, and heels. It’d only been intended to cover her up during the flight; after all, they were all friends, except for her and Danny, and she wouldn’t mind being friends with him.

She had plenty of clothes to change into: all dresses, all of them black. But before she did, she might as well wash up. The stream by the runway led into a big pool, almost a lake. It was just beyond a set of rolling hills, which gave Elvira some privacy. Not that she needed it, but probably best not to distract the others while they went about their little chores. Elvira, she attended to morale–namely, her own.

With a carryall of dresses and a few haircare products waiting for when she got back, Elvira shed her coat and approached the shoals of the pool. Below her, reflected in the smooth surface, a beautiful woman smiled up at her. Elvira took a moment to stand there, admiring her nakedness. Her black eye was quickly fading; as Elvira had long since learned, she didn’t bruise easily, which was great… she’d hate to have to choose between welts and plunging necklines.

Still, she was taken aback at just how good she looked in the supple sleekness of her nudity. That Bettie chick had nothing to be ashamed of either, but Elvira took it as a given she would be queen bee of this little camp-out. Especially when Page had been dumb enough to think she could get all her toiletries on the other side of the flight. This was exactly why a true diva took her own make-up everywhere.

“Not that you need any touching up,” Elvira told her reflection, giving her lush breasts a tiny hoist with her fingertips. They sagged so little in the first place that they barely jiggled. “Any honey with this much honey just has to wear a beehive hairdo…!”

Elvira actually licked her lips in her admiration of herself: the flatness of her stomach, the long shapely sculpting of her legs, and her pussy… damn. It made her wish she could show her ladypot off the same way she did her breasts and thighs. Maybe she’d do a spread in Playboy. Or, hell, Playghoul…

Stretching out her foot, her toes sampled the water, dispelling her little mirror into ripple after ripple. The water was cool, but she was hot enough to bear it. Without hesitation–except to take one more look at herself as the reflecting water stilled again–Elvira stepped into the water, immersing her naked form in soothing cleanliness.

She kicked out toward the middle depths of the water, rolling over to float on her back. With a trill at the feel of the air on her now dampened body, she giggled and rolled over to swim to the other side of the pool.

Now on the other side of the pool from where she had started, Elvira began to scrub away at least at the feel of the crash, with all its fear-gone-stale sweat and the grime of the impact. She had no idea she was making herself all the more appetizing for… it.

***

Below the water, it watched. Despite the chilliness in the deep of the pool, it was afire. It ached with a need that was almost painful, but this pain it craved far more than the satisfaction of dining on the creatures that usually came to this watering hole. It had seen Elvira strip naked and eyed her, unable to believe it would have the luck of her actually entering its lair. But here she was, for its many eyes to devour… and to be tasted in other methods.

It stared at the perfect, overgenerous roundness of her breasts–wishing its feelers were massaging those luscious curves rather than allowing Elvira to do it herself. And the pinkness of her long, stiff nipples–their erectness drinking in the coolness of the wind and perfectly blooming into temptation, making each individual part of it long to possess one morsel of her. Any sample of her curvature would suffice, but although not a man, it was at least masculine enough to want all of her.

It shuddered into accordant hardness, straining enough at the bottom of the pool to make the water heave up around Elvira. She turned, glancing over her shoulder to check if she were alone. But of course, she assumed a watcher would be ashore, not below. And even as she turned back, confident in her isolation, its eyes were off the sleek smoothness of her figure and onto the most private part of her.

Shaved! The female shaved her sex! It had heard of women doing that and come across pictures, as all kinds of things ended up in the groundwater thanks to humans’ filthy habits. But never in the flesh. And it would be all the more aroused if it knew Elvira had attended to that little chore in the cab ride over, her trusty dagger working overtime, leaving a pile on the backseat that her driver would develop quite the complex over.

Then Elvira sank down and floated on her back again–moaned disappointment bubbled up from the depths. Its eyes still caressed the ovaled cheeks of her ass as she floated up above. It was the roundness of a woman, full to bursting, begging to be given the last little ingredient it possessed to become something truly special. It’d had girls before… but never a woman.

Elvira rolled her arms and pedaled her legs, swinging back to the center of the pond. The alluring sweeps of her breasts stood up from her chest, wet and shining, nipples nail-straight to the sky. How it longed to touch her… to have its senses move over the creaminess of her body… only for a fleeting second… anything to prove she was not the mirage of perfection that reason insisted she must be.

***

Elvira felt it brush against her ass first. She straightened, legs going down, head going up, and either she brushed against something with her thigh or something brushed against her thigh. She kicked out with her foot, automatically trying to shoo the fish or whatever it had been. If her foot bumped into a shark, that would’ve been scary, but it was scarier still to feel nothing. She kept kicking, pushing herself away from the encounter until her feet found the bottom of the pool and she stood upright.

“Relax, Elvira,” she told herself, rubbing her tuchus. “Probably just some seaweed.” She patted where that groping touch had landed. “Yeah, seaweed with good taste…”

***

The water bubbled behind her. She turned around. The surface was at her waist and her tits, glistening with wetness, swam into view.

It couldn’t resist–not all of it. Part of it rose and lightly touched one of the jubilant hills. A shudder of passion raced through Elvira’s body. Without even having time to process what the long, pliant thing was… a snake? A tendril?… she moaned at its touch.

The thing grew bolder. It wrapped itself around the fecund heft of her vulnerable breast, tightening its hold on her–and increasing the intensity of the sensation. Elvira felt a larger moan growing inside her; so large that even stifled, it sounded bigger than before.

She felt good, it wondered. She felt smooth and soft… and as warm as she looked… as tasty as she looked… it wanted to know more. It wanted to know things it couldn’t tell just from the sight of her. It wanted to know if she was as tight as she looked… all over.

Everywhere.

***

“Probably a bad sign when a guy introduces himself with a nice grope…” Then she moaned again, feeling the tip of the tentacle at the plump, stiff sensitivity of her nipple. “Then again, there’s something to be said for the direct approach… and it doesn’t get much more direct than looking like a great big dick! Ooh, whoever said size doesn’t matter…”

The tentacle toyed with her nipple, drawing circles along the pink corona as if seeing whether flush of color would wipe away. And another tentacle pressed close, its crown touching her bare thigh. Throbbing against the soft flesh of it. Elvira shuddered, but hardly in fear or disgust.

She was imagining the possibilities.

“Usually I don’t go in for being fingered… or should that be maybe probed? But when those are your fingers, well, the more the merrier! I’ve always loved calamari…”

The caressing appendage dug into the flesh of her teat, kneading its pliant abundance and cutting off anything further Elvira wanted to say. She could only hum happily in her sexual experimentation.

With increased fervor, the tentacle slithered around her heavy breast, squeezing inward and then laying off the pressure before its tightness could cause harm. Waves of heat like summer sun ran through Elvira, ending up in her core or maybe starting there–it was hard to tell–but when she squeezed her thighs together, it got even more intense.

“Hey, I don’t know if you have ears, but most guys try to shut me up by now. You know, a little oral satisfaction? Not that I want to body-shame you if that’s all the tentacles you have, I just have something of an oral fixation and if I were in your shoes… or flippers… I wouldn’t let that go to waste!”

Thankfully, another tentacle reared out of the water like a hissing cobra, this one aimed for her face. Elvira opened wide, resisting the urge to say “ah!” You never knew why might scare a tentacle monster off–God knew they had feelings too.

It went into her gaping lips and Elvira sputteringly accepted it, gulping and swallowing it in all its seething, delicious wetness until she felt like it was going right down into her belly! She moved to take it in hand and see if it liked being stroked as well, but more tentacles were around her wrists, holding her arms still. Bossy now… well, she guessed it beat asking consent for every last tentacle.

An inquisitive tip slid into the folds of her labia, finding the open, welcoming passage into her depths. It moved into the eager pressure of her core, entering her body and bringing sheer pleasure with it. Elvira moaned into the gag she’d been lucky enough to throat. Passion rose wantonly inside her, right alongside the exploring feeler.

The tentacle between her legs twisted and stroked, playing the inside of her like an instrument, then was joined by another slippery intrusion. Standing there, dripping wet in so many methods, Elvira took the double penetration, groaning with no pain, only a mounting want of more.

More tentacles were all around, not quite embracing her, but brushing against her skin, tasting every inch of her, like all of them were asking for permission to use her at once. Elvira nodded, unable to speak with the forceful insertion between her lips. The two heavenly tentacles between her thighs pumped together, fucking her as one with decided relish.

Somehow, Elvira managed to spit out the tentacle that’d gotten to first base with her gullet. “Yes, I want to! I want it as much as all of you do, no matter how many there are! Or, if there’s just one of you, then I want you as bad as any red-blooded monster would want me! But not here…”

She cleared her throat and tasted what seemed remarkably like–yet dissimilar to–precum. And the wondered that this thing could ejaculate almost made Elvira give up on her plea for being able to breathe. But it would be a disservice to a chest that could heave as good as hers to forego oxygen for as long as this fuck would take. After all, you didn’t have a quickie with the Mistress of the Dark.

“How about we…” She wagged an eyebrow. “Come ashore?”