The Artist and the Muse (closed for Vin)

[SassyGal84]

"You don't look happy, Commodore?"

"You think, D'ranzo?" the Commodore growled. D'ranzo quickly backed away from his much large Commodore. The Commodore quickly apologized for his outburst.

"My apologies, D'ranzo. It's a family thing."

"No apologies necessary, Commodore. Is there anything that I can do to help."

The Commodore smiled at his young aide (or what passed for a smile among his species). "No, that's quite all right, Lieutenant. Just go ahead and forward the results for last quarter's efficiencies reviews."

D'ranzo scurried out of the Commodore's office, leaving the Commodore to his own thoughts.

This was a scene that could have played out anywhere on Earth except for the fact that Lt. D'ranzo stood a little more than a meter tall and looked like nothing more than a giant Mr. Potato head, including the oversized eyes, ears and lips. The Commodore was a large sphere, eight meters in diameter, and covered with angry red scales. The Commodore's body spouted several tentacles, all over various sizes, capable of manipulating weapons or, in some cases, morphing into sharp or blunt weapons.

The Commodore's race, known as the O'pi'tok, was an unusual one, in that it had evolved into different castes eons ago. The Commodore's caste was a military/warrior one, and had been proud defenders of the O'pi'tok for centuries, before the O'pi'tok had become members of the Imperium, a constitutional monarchy consisting of literally thousands of sentient alien races.

The Commodore, like other member of the warrior caste of his race, had served the military of the Imperium well. Point in fact, the current commander of the Imperial Armed Forces was an O'pi'tok warrior, and many felt the Commodore himself was on the fast track for that position. The Commodore had been doing well out in the Outer Realm, defending the Imperium merchants against pirates as well as the barbarian realms that continued to prod and poke against the Imperium's defenses.

Which is why the Commodore was so frustrated with himself right now. He was a warrior and a leader. He should not allow his mind to be detracted by family issues. And he should not take out his familial frustrations on a subordinate. Particularly one like Lt. D'ranzo, who had proved to be incredibly useful for the administrative side of the Commodore's duties.

The Commodore brought up five holograms of different O'pi'tok. Three were red colored like the Commodore. One of the Commodore's reached up and touched one of the holograms fondly. It was his secondest youngest offspring, who had just entered the Imperium Military Academy. The Commodore looked at a blue O'pi'tok, a look of respect coming on his face. It was his second oldest, who had just secured a very prestigious position at an Imperium research facility on the O'pi'tok hom world.

The Commodore sighed at the last image, a furry, purple O'pi'tok only four meters in diameter. That image was V'rin, his youngest, and member of the artist caste. The Commodore had nothing against the artist caste. On the contrary, some of the greatest names of the O'pi'tok had came from the artist caste. The artist caste was unique in that not only did it delve into the aesthetic, but they occasionally contributed to the knowledge of other castes as well. It should have been a great honor to the Commodore that one of his offsprings had been born a member of the artistic caste.

Except...except V'rin was the one thing that no O'pi'tok was, despite his caste. V'rin was timid.

All of V'rin's instructors said V'rin had great potential, but he did not have the courage to expand upon his potential. The Commodore was frustrated, but didn't know what to do. After all, if the respected members of the teacher's caste didn't know what to do, what could he add?

There was a knock on his door, interrupting the Commodore's musings. "Enter," he added, as he made the holograms disappear.

It was Lt. D'ranzo, a strange cube in his hands. "Have the efficiency reports here, Commodore."

"Thank you, Lt., but you could have just emailed them over."

"I know, sir, but I needed to remind you the Imperial Governor for the Zyronian Protectorate is here."

The Commodore groaned as Lt. D'ranzo gave him a sympathetic smile. The Imperial Governor was a member of species known as the Tirangi, a species known for their ability to observe the smallest detail and assimilate it into the "big picture." The did very well in the bureacracy that ran the Imperium, but the Governor of the Zyronian Protectorate held the belief that the Commodore and his command were there specifically for her needs, and especially the smugglers who occasionally smuggled out native products from the Protectorate.

There were six sentient races in the Protectorate, considered too unadvanced to have contact with the Imperium. The Commodore's command was there to protect these races from barbarian raiders and unauthorized mercantile and scientific contact. Occasionally, a member of the Governor's staff had been bribed to help 'unathorized' contact but, for the most part, the Imperium kept the six races inside the Protectorate from realizing they weren't alone.

"Anyway I can get out of it, Lieutenant?"

"'Fraid not, Commodore."

The Commodore sighed. The six races did provide some interesting tracts on military strategy, particularly the race known as Humans. The Commodore almost snorted when he thought about Humans. If there was a more bizarre, unpredicactable race in the Imperium, the Commodore had never ran across them. And such imaginations! There was even a small percentage of the humans who were interested in such things as 'tentacle sex.' The Commodore found this subject particularly distasteful. His species, the Op'i'tik, had long evolved from the need for sexual communion, being more interested in the product of mating than the mating itself. The fact that the Commodore had been allowed five offsprings, and was being considered to be allowed an almost unprecedented sixth, was the source of pride for him, not the actual mating itself (which was handled by the medical caste anyway, depositing his sperm on the chosen mate's egg). In fact, only the artistic caste still possessed a rudimentary sex organ, since the sex drive was considered to be linked to the ---

The Commodore froze, not daring to let his thoughts go where they were thinking to go. It was a perversion as well as a violation of the Spirit, if not the Letter, of Imperial Law. Still, it was his son, a son who he was not going to allow to be shunted off to some backwater painting school. A true warrior, the Commodore remind himself, must act boldly from time to time.

"Show the Governor in, Lt. D'ranzo," the Commodore said with a smile. "And then bring me the Wtanda File." The Commodore didn't think he would ever have to use the Wtanda File. It was a bargaining chip he was only planning to use if he needed a particularly favor from this governor. Well, this was a particularly big favor.

* * * * *

The Governor had tried to resist, but the hard facts in the Wtanda File (and the effects they would cause if they were leaked outside the Zyronian Protectorate) were not something she wanted to have to deal with. So, in the end, she had given in to the inevitable. A Zyronian Protectorate had been dispatched to obtain a living biological sample for the authorized use by an Imperium citizen in the pursuit of aesthetic endeavors.

* * * * *

(Before going on, here's a quick description of Lindsey, the heroine of our little tale)

About Lindsey:

Height: 5'2"
Weight: 97 lbs
Age: 18
Measurements: 34D-25-35

Lindsey is English/Cherokee (a quarter Cherokee, to be precise). She has smooth, light olive skin and long, dark straight hair, reaching to the middle of her back. Lindsey is basically an innocent, not having gone further than a light kiss on the lips on a group date. She has a sweet and shy personality, and is a little bit naive at times.

* * * * *

Lindsey was outside in her yard, looking through her small telescope at Saturn, and taking notes for her class in Astronomy. Her mother was looking out at the window, worried about her daughter. She was more than pretty enough, intelligent, and personable. But for some reason, her daughter just didn't seem to be interested in developing a social life. She went out with a group of friend from time to time, but never on a date, even though Lindsey's mother knew there was plenty of interest. Her shy daughter, it seemed, was content enough pursuing her school work.

"Don't stay up too late, Gallileo," Lindsey's mother shouted, before heading to bed. Lindsey waved back to her mother, then returned to studying Saturn.

And then the universe disappeared.

* * * * *

When Lindsey woke up, she found herself in some kind of gray container. That wasn't the distressing thing, though. The distressing thing was that she was nude and that her wrists and ankles were bound by two separate lengths of red ribbon. Or at least it looked like a red ribbon. Except she couldn't budge the ribbons, or see any beginning or ends to them.

And then Lindsey was really distressed when the container's lid opened and she saw a tentacle monster. It had red lizard hide and waving tentacles. It growled something at her and then slammed the container shut.

It didn't matter, though. Lindsey had fainted away.

* * * * *

The Commodore opened up the container and took a look at the bound sentient being that was a human female. The Commodore had seen three dimensional representations before, but this was the first live sample he had seen.

"This is an acceptable specimen, governor?" he asked, closing the container's top.

"The female is considered very aesthetically pleasing by her species' standard." the governor answered sullenly.

The Commodore was doubtful about that last pronouncement, but he assumed the governor was the expert, so he let stop at that.

"The bindings?"

"Keyed to your offspring's DNA, Commodore. Only he will be able to release the Human's females bindings."

"And you included examples of this 'tentacles sex' with the human for my son's viewing?"

"The very milder forms, at your request, Commodore. I take it that you've destroyed the file."

"You have my word, Governor." The governor nodded. It was a given fact that an O'pi'tok's given words was unbreakable. Of course, like the Djinni of Human legend, you had to be sure exactly how that word was...worded.

When the governor left, the Commodore ran a tentacle over the box, whispering a silent wish that the box's content would give his son the courage of his abilities.

The Commodore then brought up the holographic image of his son, V'rin. Father and son could not have looked more different. V'rin was less than half the size of his father, being only four meters in diameter. V'rin was covered with a soft, purple fair, unlike the Commodore's red scales. His tentacles were designed for gentle manipulation, able to shape themselves to shape, feel, smell and even taste, whereas the Commodore's tentacles were all potential weapons of war, able to manipulate weapons or even become weapons.

The Commodore studied the hologram, hoping this last gambit was enough to help his son become the artist that he was destined to be.

'Enough,' the Commodore rebuked himself. 'I have done all that I can. It is up to V'rin now to realize his own destiny.'

With that, the Commodore began reviewing his fleet's quarterly efficiency reports, while a container with a nude human female inside rushed at speeds greater than light toward his son's solitary study on the homeworld of O'pi'tok.

 

[vin_26m]

V'rin's spherical body tilted on its axis. Four of his tentacles held himself up so he didn't have to concentrate on levitating. Two tentacles scratched his purple furry body in a pleasurable way. It felt nice to do to himself even if it was much better for a female that just grew her fourth tentacle (the bare minimum before entering illegal territory) to do it for him

He especially enjoyed having his rudimentary sex organ played with. Actually, rudimentary is far from the truth. V'rin was blessed with having a decent 16 cm long sex organ that was "sooo nice and thick" according to all of his classmates. They would levitate around in the hallways of the art academy and brush up against each others' tentacles on the sly, then get into huge tentacle orgies after class (the more the merrier). Still, it just seemed like something, or some things, were missing. Tentacles alone, no matter how many, were just not getting him to bust his load out like when he first discovered it accidentally looking at a random video clip called "tentacle sex." Nowadays, he wouldn't even bother checking out something so vanilla as tentacles fucking each other.

V'rin randomly ended up looking at a tiny portion of the ImperiumLattice called the Internet, used by humans to track their pathetic excuse for knowledge. He saw links to clips called "tentacle sex" and just skipped over them. The planet of the humans was in the same system as a much larger planet with rings around it, an image of which was filling up a huge screen. The rings were much cooler than the humans could ever hope to be. Rings own humans.

Humans rarely occured in any sort of cinema within the Imperium and this was also true in the Outer Realms, despite common knowledge of their existence. Only one human on their entire world could ever imagine something like the Op'i'tik.

*shoomp*

Op't'tik did a half turn to see what was delivered. His front hemisphere looked exactly like his back hemisphere, but he still felt the need to turn around. A large gray container was there. And it was *moving.*

V'rin looked at the hologram of his father coming out of the note.

"V'rin, this is the Commodore. Enclosed are supplies for your mission. Good luck, son. Out."

V'rin's father saluted with his tentacle, and then the hologram flickered off.

The box shook again. He carefully lifted the lid, levitating higher to look inside and saw... a human female.

V'rin tilted to the left, then to the right, trying to figure out why on O'pi'tok'ti'pop his crazy soldier dad would send him an alien, who was now looking up at him. She was bound up to his DNA. He reached into the box with one tentacle and picked up a storage medium title "Tentacle Sex." He was tempted to just throw it in the trash, but his nutty military father must have put it there for a reason.

He connected it to another big screen next to the big screen with Saturn and saw something he never saw before...

 

[SassyGal84]

It had seemed forever since the box had been closed by the red scaled tentacled monster, and Lindsey had finally drifted to sleep. She was awakened by the box being opened by another tentacled monster. Lindsey immediately curled up in a fetal position, trying to make herself as small as possible. She also tugged at the bindings holding her wrists and ankles together, but to no avail.

The creature that looked in immediately disappeared, but Lindsey had still gotten a good look at it. It was much smaller than the red tentacle creature, and was covered with purple fur, rather than red scales. Still, Lindsey didn't think the nightmare was over. It had just taken a different twist.

* * * * *

While V'Rin was watching the medium his father had sent him, a record message from the dean of the college that V'rin was studying in appeared on part of the screen reserved for important prerecorded messages.

"Student V'Rin, it has come to our attention that your father has sent you art supplies of some sort. Whatever these substances are, I would recommend that you avail yourselves of them. Your father may not be an artist, but he is a military leader respected both on O'pi'tok and in the Imperium. It is only his influence that has allowed you to remain in the college this long. If we do not see improvement soon, though, your time at this college will be terminated and occupational placement will commence. Recording terminated."

 

[vin_26m]

V'rin slapped his sphere with one of his tentacles. Could things get any worse? He was so content just sticking with tentacle-painting. Yeah, it was juvenile, but he liked it.

He played the "Tentacle Sex" video and it wasn't what he was expecting. It had lots of pictures and videos of human-like cartoon figures being restrained and penetrated by tentacles. Their faces were easy to read - looks of shock, disgust, surprise, fear, disbelief - the emotions were evocative. This was art.

He looked at the pictures and watched the videos, then looked at the female human still bound up. It was clear she was watching the videos too, and her facial expressions reflected some of that of the "Tentacle Sex" visuals. He watched some more of the content, looked at her, watched more content, and looked at her again, turning his big purple furry tentacled body back and forth. He rubbed his sex organ tentacle vigorously through his purple fur. It felt really good, much better than it usually felt.

Still, it was one thing watching cartoon humans with cartoon tentacles. This was a whole new situation.

He approached the human and rolled her onto her back. He kept looking at her, tilting his sphere again from side to side. He slowly reached out with one of his tentacles and held it above her, then gently prodded her with it and suddenly took it away, almost afraid to touch her but also curious for her reaction.

He reached out again, more bravely this time but still apprehensive. This time he kept his tentacle on her skin longer. She felt soft and warm. She felt different from a tentacle, and it was strange, but he liked it.

A third time, he put his tentacle on her, this time lightly caressing up and down on each side of her neck.

He turned around and went to his paints. Immediately he started dipping his tentacles into the various colors of paint, skillfully mixing up just the right blends for the colors of her skin and her hair and her bonds. He worked feverishly, paint slapping at the canvas with loud splats and flying through the air, even getting some on his furry purply sphere.

He levitated back and admired his work, folding two tentacles contentedly in front of him, raising two tentacles in the air victoriously, two tentacles clapping applause for himself and the last two patting himself on his rear hemisphere.

He showed the tentacle-painted mural to the human female, gauging her reaction, desperate for approval.

 

[SassyGal84]

Lindsey didn't want to watch the video the tentacled monster was playing, but she couldn't help herself. There were various animated movies, all involving tentacled monsters and large busted anime girls. The theme in each of the cartoons was different, but it played out the same. Tentacles of various lenghts and functionalities played and manipulated the flesh of the anime girls, and eventually penetrated the mouths and sexes of the anime girls. Sometimes it was willing, sometimes it was unwilling, and sometimes the anime girl changed her mind during the molestation. But the anime girls were 'taken' eventually, whether they wanted to be or not.

When the video ended, the tentacled alien levitated over to examine her. Lindsey shrunk away from the furry, purple tentacled monster as it reached into the box, but to no avail. The creature rolled her on her back, completely exposing her. Lindsey remained completely still as the creature examined her, then tentatively touched her collarbone. The creature yanked its tentacle away, as if the tip of the tentacle had gotten burned.

Still, the creature continued studying her, then turned away. In a blur of motions, the creature splattered various colors on a canvas. Lindsey was quite surprised how diverse the tips of the tentacles were, changing effortlessly into whatever shape was required.

Then suddenly the creature was finished, and displayed the finished product to Lindsey. Lindsey gasped. It was a picture of her! The style was what she remembered learning in school as neorealism, though she suspected the alien called it something else. And she could tell the creature not only displayed her emotional state, but its own as well, as it looked down at her.

The creature seemed to be waiting for something, as Lindsey looked at the mural.

"It's---it's really quite good," Lindsey said, not sure if the creature could understand her. "Perhaps if I were...well, if these things were taken off," Lindsey said, lifting her bound wrists toward the creature, "I might appreciate it better." Not that Lindsey thought her situation would improve if her wrists and ankles were unbound, but it had to be an improvement. Being nude and restrained was making her feeling incredibly vulnerable.

 

[vin_26m]

V'rin couldn't understand her exactly, but he sensed approval from her, which made him so happy. He thought maybe he imagined it, especially after all the criticisms he got from his instructors and his family, but he hoped she liked it. He felt truly inspired by her.

He released her bonds, allowing her arms and legs to go free. He watched her closely, then tried to change the shape of one of his tentacles, mimicking her arm. He reached out with it toward her. Maybe something familiar would make her feel comfortable.

He held his tentacle out for her, keeping it still and inviting, opening up the hand at the tip.

V'rin's other tentacles also reached out, slowly surrounding her. She would either have to backpedal out of his grasp, let the tentacles touch her, or move closer to his purple furry spherical body. For some reason, V'rin reminded her of a stuffed animal, cute and cuddly, but also warm.

 

[SassyGal84]

Lindsey had had many stuffed animals in her life, but the tentacled creature in front of her didn't remind her of any of them.

Once it had released her from her bond, Lindsey had gotten out of the box, doing her best to keep a certain amount of distance between herself and the purple tentacled monster. Lindsey thought about using her hands and arms to protect her modesty, but decided that it was a moot point at best. Instead, she was going to try to keep her distance from the tentacled monster.

Lindsey froze as the monster extended one of its tentacles toward her, and she watched in amazement as the tentacle emulated her arm, including a hand-like appendage at its tip.

At the same time, the tentacled being surrounded Lindsey with the rest of its tentacles. They didn't touch Lindsey, but it made it impossible for Lindsey not to touch them unless she remained perfectly still.

Lindsey stood perfectly still, watching the tentacled being intensely.

 

[vin_26m]

She didn't move toward him, but she didn't move away, either. She was motionless, seemingly allowing, perhaps even inviting, V'rin to inspect her.

Another tentacle turned into an arm. With the the two arm-like appendages, he put his hands on her shoulders. If they didn't belong to a tentacled monster, they would have felt exactly like human hands caressing the bare skin. V'rin could tell that the tentacles in the video they watched were more aggressive with their touches on the humans, but that was part of the art. This was a real human, and V'rin felt that she would require a more tender touch.

Slowly, his hands went down her arms. V'rin studied alien biology and knew that human males were larger than females, and his hands reflected that increased size and stregth. He felt the fronts of her upper arms, his fingers going around the outsides of her arms, his thumbs brushing up against the sides of her breasts. His hands went down further to her forearms and wrists. When they got to her hands, he held the sides of her hands, putting his fingers in her palms from the pinky side, and lifted her hands up until he elbows bent and her hands were in front of her. He was studying her reactions as well as the sensations from feeling her.

His hands opened up and he pressed his palms against her palms, lining their fingers up together. He spread his fingers apart, spreading hers along with his, then put his fingers between hers, bending them, interlocking them together.

He changed his grip again, holding the backs of her hands with her palms still facing toward him. He guided without forcing her hands closer to his furry purple spherical body, giving her the opportunity to touch him back.