It was Jag’s day “off”, or rather, the one day a week she allowed herself to skip training and relax, which today, had taken the form of going to the gym’s Olympic sized pool. Or at least, that had been the plan. Jag had even worn her black two piece under her form fitting red t-shirt and ratty looking jeans, which, of course, had gotten her “Detention” from the angry old crone that Jag called her professor. Detention seemed a very childish prospect to the college student, however, and she usually simply ignored the threat. However, unbeknownst to her, her teacher had grown weary of that behavior, and taken some extra steps today.

Before she made it to the locker room, Jag felt a pair of hands snap around her body, one just under her large chest, holding her back against a larger body, another clasping a rag to her mouth. Quickly, the world dimmed, growing black, her limbs growing heavy. The red headed teen slumped in the stranger’s grasp.

When she awoke again, she found herself in a vastly different setting, one she would later recognize as the basement’s dungeon like rooms. Her shirt, her heavy boots, even her socks, had been removed, and the chill of the room sent a shiver up her spine. It seemed she was in a smaller, almost cell like room, barely big enough to hold 3 people. The only door had a small, barred window, though she could see little of the outer room beyond shifting shadows and an occasional creak that sounded like something old and metal. The fiery haired girl tugged and pushed on the door for a while but to no avail… it seemed it wasn’t going to budge for her. She crossed her arms over her mostly bare torso, covered only by her swimsuit’s top, and called out into the room.

“Hey, anybody out there? What’s the deal locking me in here?” She called, anger in her voice.

From the dark corner of the room, a sadistic chuckle echoed forth.

"My my... They deliver now. Welcome to the dungeon, sugar thighs."

Slowly, ever so slowly, water began spreading from the corner of the room...

But something was wrong.

Water wasn't supposed to move like this.

And it DEFINITELY wasn't supposed to be making a vaguely predatory sound as it crep towards its confused victim.

"I do so love the bad girls..."

Jag’s fiery hair flew in a halo-like effect behind her as she whirled, hearing the voice but unable to place it’s source. Even as she passed over the water-like substance with her eyes, she continued past.

“Who’s there? And what the heck did you kidnap me for?” she growled, still whirling about, her body betraying her fear a little, though she tried to keep an air of false confidence about her.

Slowly she settled her eyes on the water again, noticing that it was moving… how it was moving. It wasn’t natural in the slightest. Slowly, the young woman backed away from it, although she had little clue as to how to… do anything about it. Certainly she couldn’t fight water… what was she even thinking? Of course it couldn’t be the water talking to her, she was just scared and not thinking rationally.

Slowly, so she could wath, a face formed in the water, smirking at the girl cruelly.

"That wasn't me... And between you and me, I'd imagine the goon squad has their own plans for you... And from the way you're dressed, I'd imagine they're very, very close to my own..."

A coat of... whatever this thing was made of... slowly covered the door. It had slowly flowed overthe walls, the ceiling,and even the window, blocking her in from every possible angle.

"But I had the room first."

Jag’s eyes widened as the face formed in the puddle-like substance. As it spoke to her, she tried to calm down a little… maybe this was all a dream. Either that or she had been drugged with something, she concluded.

“What… the heck did they do to me…? I’m seeing things…” she asked, blinking, realizing she was asking what was probably a hallucination. “For that matter what are you?” She asked none the less.

As it expanded, however, she backed herself first into a corner, then, as it crawled up the walls as well, she moved into the center of the room, trying to stay as far away from the all encompassing being as she could. Her young chest jumped up and down as she tried to contain her quickly growing fear…

As the voice began to speak again, a long, clear tendril rose from the floor, tipped with what appeared to be a paddle, which he held menacingly in fromt of the redhead's breasts, waving it threateningly.

"Haven't you ever been in a bondage dungeon before, you stupid little girl? You don't get to ask questions unless you're the one holding the whip."

With that, he raised the paddle, swatting her roughly across the tits.

"Are we perfectly clear on what's going on, fuckdoll? Or do I need to... elaborate?"

She watched the tendril slowly rise in front of her, unsure what the creature was up to, or if it was real or not. “Bondage dungeon… what the hell are you…” she started, though was quickly interrupted.

Jag shrieked in pain as it swatted at her large breasts, her tender mounds aching for a moment afterwards. She clenched one hand tightly, gritting her teeth and throwing a surprisingly strong punch at the tentacle.

“I’m not anyone’s toy, you bastard!” she screamed as she swung, rage in her voice.

He held the tendil still,letting her punch go right through it.

When she tried to pull her hand back, however, he held her wrist tight, another tendril rising up and paddling her pert ass viciously, small hands rising up to grab her annkles and raise them to the same level as her wrist. He left her other hand free, just so she'd keep struggling.

"Tsk tsk... Bad girls get spankings," he taunted, bringing the paddle down a few more times before turning it into a pair of hands, groping and fondling her reddened backside.

The student pulled back on her hand as soon as it connected but found it stuck fast, held by the… whatever this thing was. None the less she yanked on it for a couple moments, trying to free her hand, before her ankles too were encircled, even raising them up so that she was laid out almost horizontally by the creature. Her other hand pulled and fought at the tentacle holding her arm but to little avail it seemed.

Each time the thing would swat at her backside, a hiss of pain escaped her mouth, though she held back any cries, trying to stay strong. A groan of disgust filled the air, however, as he groped at her backside. “Get your hands… tentacles… whatever, get off me!” She screamed in frustration.

The thing raised a hand, slapping her across the mouth, teasing her nipples with thin, featherlike appendages as he did so she'd get a mix of pleasure and pain.

Maybe that'd get her to understand... Or maybe it'd just get under her skin. Either way, he'd enjoy it.

"New rule. The mouth doesn't open unless something's going in. Got it?"

The teenager’s head recoiled in pain and anger as the thing quickly reached up and slapped at her. At the same time she could feel something light and almost feather-like being drawn across her barely clothed breasts, teasing at her nipples through the thin black bikini top. A shiver went down her spine, introducing a stutter to her words.

“Sc… screw you… you… bastard…” she gasped out, outraged but embarrassed by the sensation across her large chest, even as it huffed in and out in frustration.

She continued to struggle, undeterred, trying to twist her hips to get away from him in some fashion.

With a cruel chuckle, he formed anothe pair of hands, running fingers along the waistband of her panties teeasingly as he brought up a clear cock, teasing her lips with the tip before slapping her across the face with it.

"Fine... You wanna talk? I'm just aching to find out all about you. What's your name, mmm?'

Slowly, teasingly, he formed another pair of hands, grabbing the straps of her bikini top with them. He made no move to remove it...

...Yet.

Jag was about to open her mouth again when another large extension, this one with a very clearly defined phallic shape, slapped across her face and lips. Though she let a disgusted look pass over her face, the threat was clear. She shut up for a bit after that. Unlike her, though, her captor didn’t stop. Its strange hands flew down her flanks to the hem of her pants, dipping inside and running over the straps of her matching bikini bottoms. Soon another pair of hands was toying with the straps of her top, the only thing left to cover her upper body. The fiery haired teen clenched her eyes shut but kept her mouth shut still, quite afraid now but even still, trying to hide it some.

"Really now, girl," the beast chided, "One minute you won't shut up, then I try to ask you a simple question and all of a sudden you're a deaf-mute."

He seized her other wrist roughly, pinning her arms behing her back as he held her suspended from the ceiling, running the tip of his cock along her cleavage. "Is that any way to... Oh, right, rule number two..."

Slowly, teasilnly, he began to undo her jeans, taking his time with the zipper so she could feel each tooth separate.

"I'll be nice enough to change rule number two just a little, llet you say things if they're relevant. Now, if you want to be called something other than 'worthless cocksucker', you might want to tell me your name."

Jag gasped, though kept her teeth clamped shut, as her other hand was yanked behind her, further exposing her large chest for him; her young breasts thrusting out as his tentacle cleaved between them, causing a surprising amount of sensation to run through the girl’s body. Her breathing growing erratic, mostly from fear but partly from stimulation, the large globes began to slide up and down along the tendril’s length involuntarily as she breathed in and out.

“Jag. I'm Jag.” She finally hissed out, keeping quiet for the most part… she could do little to resist at this point but she was determined to do what she could. Meanwhile she could feel her jeans slowly being unzipped, revealing more and more of the soft, almost nylon-like material of her skimpy swimsuit bottoms.