Page 2 of Tis the Season for Tentacles (Tinsel and Tentacles 2.0)

Chapter Two

“Tentacles and Torment: Body Swapped” by FeliXFiles

Fandom: “The Tentacular Tales of Captain Starblade” by KirklovesSpock4eva

Tags: Lord Vardox, Captain Starblade, body swap, tentacles, 18+

Part 3 of Tentacles and Torment

With a groan, Captain Starblade blinked his eyes open in confusion and slowly sat up from where he was lying on the floor.

What the hell happened?

He recognized this room. It was Lord Vardox’s bedroom aboard his ship. By now, Starblade had spent far too much time tied up in this room, enduring the tender torment of Vardox’s talented tentacles.

His head throbbed and he held up a hand to touch it, his memory oddly hazy.

Something was not right though.

He lowered his arm and stared at it in disbelief. His skin was an unusual reddish-brown hue and his fingers were tipped with short, black, claw-like nails.

Sheets rustled and he whirled around to stare at the bed. He couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing because the stunningly handsome blond man sitting up and gawking at him—was himself.

“What the devil?” he roared, and even his voice wasn’t the same.

Heart racing, he strode to the room’s connected bathroom and froze as he gazed in the mirror covering an entire wall.

He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but it appeared he and Lord Vardox had somehow switched bodies.

FELIX

I t’s stupidly cold out in the Nevada desert tonight.

Despite being only the first week of December, there’s a sharp chill in the air, and I’m already lamenting the fact that I didn’t pack warmer gear for this reconnaissance mission.

One might wonder what I’m doing out here all by my lonesome, far from the rest of human civilization.

And no, I’m not a serial killer.

I just happen to be a sci-fi-loving, alien-believing, unexplained-phenomena-hunting enthusiast, and I’m out here to prove that aliens are among us.

Trust me, I am indeed mentally sound. For the most part. I have reason to believe aliens are hiding here on Earth, and in the Nevada desert in particular. You see, a few years ago, an author I admire, and who publishes my favorite long-running online space opera serial released an unsettling post on his blog. It detailed his real-life encounter with bona fide aliens hiding in the middle of the desert less than an hour outside of Vegas.

To most, it might have seemed like utterly made-up conspiracy theory nonsense. But what instantly set my internal sensors off was that the post was taken down only a few scant hours after it went live. It wasn’t until a day later that the author issued a hasty retraction, but that follow-up post seemed forced and oddly unbelievable in comparison to what he had written about so passionately the first time.

Needless to say, my curiosity was piqued.

Of course, KirklovesSpock4eva—as he is known—may have removed the original post, but as any Internet nerd knows, screenshots are forever. And you better believe I took screenshots!

I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to pinpoint the exact location in the desert where the author claimed to have found a secret alien base, but to no avail. Granted, I can’t explore quite as often as I would like. But when I have free time, I come out here and continue to search for extraterrestrial life.

Right now, I have more free time than usual.

My phone rings, and I smile when my sister’s name flashes on the screen.

“Hi, Gemma.”

“Hey, big bro. How’s it going out there in the desert?”

“Good. Thanks for looking after Wanda for me.”

She snorts with amusement. “Looking after a fish isn’t exactly hard work.” There’s a beat of silence before she adds, “Maybe with the changes going on in your life right now, you might actually be able to adopt some other pets like you’ve wanted to.”

I wince. For the last five years, I’ve been working at a veterinary practice in Vegas as their exotic animal specialist. Things had been going great, and I’d just finished paying off my grad school student loans, but the two owners of the clinic—a husband-and-wife duo—have decided they’re ready to retire. Now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to do next. I don’t have enough capital to buy the business from them, and I’m loath to go into debt again after finally paying off my degrees. Basically, I have to look at starting all over at a new clinic or going into business for myself.

For whatever reason, neither option has struck a chord with me.

Could I be experiencing a midlife crisis already? Thirty-five seems rather young for that, but what do I know?

“Yeah, I’ve thought about that too,” I admit to Gemma. “I feel like the last fifteen years have been nothing but working my ass off and ignoring everything else but my career.”

Gemma sighs. “Tell me about it. Becoming a doctor was always my dream, but now that I’m here, I’m exhausted. Healthcare in this country is in crisis and the fucking insurance companies make me want to pull my hair out on a daily basis. And there’s so much more bureaucratic bullshit and paperwork to deal with than I ever imagined.”

“How did we end up such miserable overachievers?”

She laughs. “Fuck if I know.”

“Nana and Gramps raised us right.”

“Damn but I miss them,” she whispers.

Our mother was a free spirit who had a tendency to dump her responsibilities on her loving and far too generous parents. When she got pregnant with me in her early twenties, she entrusted me to my grandparents’ care less than a year after I was born and disappeared to parts unknown. Almost six years later, she reappeared with my infant sister in tow. She stayed with us for two days before doing her vanishing act again, this time leaving Gemma behind.

Both of us were lucky that our Nana and Gramps loved us more than enough to make up for our shitty mom. Neither of us had an idea who our fathers were, although it’s clear we had different ones based on our lack of similarity in appearance.

“I still love being a vet,” I admit, “but the stress and the downsides of the profession are making me question a lot of things right now.”

“Hopefully, this long weekend will give you the time and mental clarity to figure out what you want,” Gemma offers, a note of encouragement in her voice.

I smile. “Thanks, Gemsy. I hope so. And I hope that things get better on your end too.”

She makes a noncommittal noise. “Maybe I just need a nice, long vacation of my own. Preferably on a beach by the ocean.”

I snicker. “With lots of beautiful single women around?”

It’s her turn to laugh. “Fuck yeah! Do you know how long it’s been since I got laid?”

“I bet I’ve got you beat, sister dearest.”

How the two of us ended up being totally queer, we’ll never know, but we do consider it a stroke of good fortune in the face of everything else. Thankfully, our grandparents were completely supportive of us and marched in many a Pride parade over the years.

But when I was in veterinary school, Nana got sick. By the time she went to the doctor, the cancer had already spread to several of her organs. She didn’t want to undergo the painful chemo and radiation treatments that may have given her a few extra months at best, instead opting to go into hospice care and be made as comfortable as possible until her time was up.

I think a core part of our grandfather died when she did. They’d always been the epitome of an ideal couple to both me and Gemma. Together since they were nineteen, the two of them had married young and made a beautiful life together. They doted on one another and knew how to communicate even when things got tough. The love they had for each other was precious and enviable. With Nana’s passing, the light went out of Gramps, and less than a year later, he passed quietly in his sleep one night.

Gemma and I miss them both terribly, but we’re grateful for all the love and care they gave us growing up. Neither of us cares all that much about our mom abandoning us. We’ve never known her. To be honest, I’m not even sure if she’s still alive. She never showed up for either of her parents’ funerals, so we’ve had no contact with her in decades.

“You’ll be back on Monday night, right?”

I startle out of my reverie. “Yeah. I should be back by five. How about we grab dinner together at that little Mexican restaurant you like? My treat.”

“You’re on!”

“Cool. I’ll call you to check in tomorrow night and let you know I’m okay.”

“Sounds good. Be safe out there. Love ya, Felix.”

“Love you too, Gemsy.”

After ending our call, I pull out my printed grid map. Turning on my phone’s flashlight to help me see better, I mark off the most recent quadrant I surveyed today. The desert is vast, but over time, I’ll be able to cover every square inch of this place.

I’m nothing if not tenacious and meticulous.

With the pen cap between my teeth, I squint down at my map and try to decide where to head next.

I’m not a natural outdoors enthusiast by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m also fully aware that my best opportunity to potentially spy covert alien operations in the desert is undoubtedly under the concealing dark of night.

This evening I have a full thermos of coffee with me to keep me awake and warm for the next few hours at least. Staying up all night, however, isn’t as easy to do now that I’m in my thirties as it was in my twenties.

Add to the fact that tonight is brutally cold, and I can’t deny I’m just a bit miserable out here, but I refuse to give up.

I rub my hands together and blow into them as I stare up at the stars and marvel. If there are aliens here on earth, then there’s plenty more out there in the vast universe beyond. How fascinating would it be to meet them? What are they like? Do they resemble us? Are they friendly or hostile?

So many questions.

Pouring myself a cup of coffee from my thermos, I sip at the steaming beverage and open an app on my phone to check out comments on the latest chapter in my newest fanfic story.

ManHo4Vardox: Dude, this new story has such a great plot twist! I can’t wait to see how Starblade exacts some sexy revenge on Vardox. Of course, he’d just be doing it to his own body but… still hot. I’m sure KirklovesSpock4eva would be majorly impressed.

StarbladeStan: Your writerly finesse when it comes to kinky tentacles is most impressive. Keep it—and the characters—up. *wink*

TentacleTart: Holy Freaky Friday magic! I am LOVING this concept. Can’t wait for the next chapter. Gimme!

I smile to myself. My fanfiction is an homage to that same author who inspired my desert investigations. While I call his ongoing story a space opera, it’s also very tentacle porny. It’s a quintessential enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers ad infinitum narrative in which the very salacious and slightly sadistic Lord Vardox loves to torment Captain Starblade, the epitome of a himbo if ever there was one. Their various adventures and misadventures, both in and outside the bedroom, are vastly entertaining and take up an inordinate amount of my free reading time.

I don’t know what it is about the story that draws me in so much, but I can’t get enough of it, to the extent that I eventually had to start writing my own fanfiction of the story. So far, I’ve amassed my own tiny online following of Starblade fans who seem to appreciate my fictional contributions.

Plus, writing is a way for me to avoid thinking about the sad state of my nonexistent love life and my uncertain future.

Needing to stretch my legs a little, I figure I might as well begin my next round of reconnaissance and pull on my backpack—packed with essential supplies—and start to hike up a nearby ridge.

When I get to the top, I look over the side and survey the valley below.

Everything appears still in the quiet of the night, but I blink a few times when I see under the faint glow of moonlight what looks like dust beginning to churn in the distance.

I frown. The weather report didn’t indicate any impending dust storms. A quick check of my phone confirms the night is clear and the wind is calm.

I take off my glasses and rub my eyes before putting them back on and staring hard.

The dust is moving in a line, but I don’t see a vehicle of any kind, which is even more bizarre. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pull out my night-vision binoculars so I can get a better look.

Yes, I am that nerd. Don’t judge.

With my binoculars, I can more easily study the moving dust, but I was right—there’s no sign of a vehicle. I can’t think of any animal that would be moving that fast either. In fact, even from this distance, it seems like whatever is causing the dust is moving faster than should be humanly possible.

Naturally, that’s when it happens.

Where once there seemed to be nothing, a ramp of some kind all of a sudden descends to the ground out of thin air. The air around it shimmers, and I watch as an odd-looking vehicle reminiscent of a Smart Car appears and ascends the ramp.

I whip out my phone and start taking as many pictures as possible.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit,” I whisper under my breath.

It’s got to be an alien ship. And it has a motherfreaking cloaking device!

My soul sings. I knew I was right about this. Aliens really are here on Earth!

I keep watching in complete awe, my binoculars letting me get a good view of things inside what seems to be a cargo bay. Someone gets out of the odd little vehicle that went in the ship, and I’m shocked to see that they appear to be human.

Not paying attention to my feet, I take a step forward as if to get a closer look only to stumble.

The next instant, I find myself tumbling down the side of the ridge like Wesley in The Princess Bride , only far less gracefully and shouting, “Sonofabitch!”

Eventually, I land in a dusty, painful heap on top of my still attached backpack.

Once my lungs start working again, I carefully survey my body. It would not be good if I broke anything while alone out here in the desert.

I wiggle my toes and my fingers. So far, so good.

After some additional cautionary attempts, I’m able to move my legs and arms without any difficulty, but I’ve definitely got some bruises that are going to be pretty painful later.

Glancing up, I see that, thankfully, the fall wasn’t as far as it seemed when it was happening.

Although I hope I haven’t broken anything inside my backpack. I do have some expensive equipment in there, including my laptop.

Just when I’ve decided to stop wallowing and try to roll myself over and get to my feet, I hear a strange vibrating hum start all around me.

“What the?—”

A bright beam of light shoots down from the sky and surrounds me, damn near blinding me in the process.

The very air seems to radiate with invisible energy, and I realize my body is shaking too.

And it’s not from what is evidently a tractor beam that I now find myself in.

No, it’s from my own uncontained excitement.

The aliens have found me and they’re beaming me aboard their ship?!

Am I weird to view this as a dream-come-true moment?

Probably. But who cares?

I grin to myself and shout, “Beam me up, Scotty!” as I’m sucked up by the light and into the unknown.