Mr.Deviant
New member
Scene One – The Studio
A group of dancers performs sultry routines in the mirrored gym studio. The camera lingers on Kelsy, 24, a blonde bombshell with a bubble butt and a sculpted physique. She wears tight shorts, a long-sleeved crop top, sneakers, and a choker. Her hair is tied in playful double buns.
She moves with confidence, her body syncing perfectly to the pulsing electronic track. Jimmy, a shy young man with a camera, films her—his lens locked on the rapid, hypnotic motion of her hips.
The shot drops to the floor, then passes beneath it. The muffled music fades as we enter the crawlspace: rats scurry between pipes draped in cobwebs. The camera glides forward, entering a sewer line.
Inside the pipe, silence. A faint, suspenseful score begins to rise. Something slimy shifts in the dark. It lunges at the lens, flipping it around—now we see through the creature’s point of view as it slithers through the tunnel.
The music intensifies as it climbs toward the drain of a drinking fountain. The camera bursts upward, swivels, and locks onto the black hole of the drain.
Letters merge with the metal grating to form the title:
“The Thing From Within the Drain.”
Scene Two – The Fountain
Tasha, 25, a Black dancer, leans over the fountain to drink. Across the room, Kelsy wraps her shoot with Jimmy, then joins her, flushed with energy and satisfaction.
Their exchange is polite but distant—until Kelsy produces a small bottle labeled Maxxi Curves. She stirs some powder into a colorful tumbler, takes a sip, and grimaces.
Tasha raises an eyebrow.
Kelsy explains: Maxxi Curves “boosts protein absorption, burns fat, and enhances curves.” Tasha doubts her, but Kelsy insists, “everyone’s on it.” Around the gym, empty bottles of the supplement sit on benches and in trash bins.
As proof, Kelsy turns and proudly displays her toned, round buttocks, encouraging Tasha to feel them. Skeptical, Tasha crouches to inspect—and is surprised at how firm they are.
Behind them, the fountain gurgles. A tentacle squeezes through the narrow drain, silently reaching for Tasha. Before it can touch her, she straightens, breaking its path. The appendage slides back, then aims at Kelsy instead.
Just before it strikes, Luna, 27, a striking Latina dancer, sneaks up and playfully slaps Kelsy’s ass. The tentacle recoils into the drain. Tasha glances back suspiciously—but the fountain looks normal.
Scene Three – The Montage
Later, Kelsy joins Jimmy as he edits footage on his laptop. She sits close, making him squirm while she lounges comfortably.
A video montage plays: the dancers performing, laughing, stretching, working out. The cuts, however, linger on Kelsy.
Tasha and Luna call Jimmy out. He stammers, unable to defend himself. Kelsy praises the work, but Tasha demands fairer edits. Kelsy dismisses her concerns. The tension breaks when Kelly, the gym owner, arrives to announce closing time.
Tasha and Luna pack up, muttering about Kelsy as they leave. Kelsy thanks Kelly for letting them film and, before leaving, insists she needs a shower. Both Kelly and Jimmy protest—it’s late. Jimmy even offers her a ride home.
But Kelsy refuses to meet her boyfriend all “sweaty and stinky.” She begs, promising to promote the gym even more on her socials. Kelly hesitates, then relents.
She escorts Jimmy out, flips the “Closed” sign, and locks the door. Kelsy stays behind.
Scene Four – Alone in the Gym
In the empty studio, Kelsy stretches, then heads toward the locker rooms, filming a quick selfie for her fans.
“Fresh content dropping soon,” she beams.
A metallic groan echoes through the walls. She shrugs—“crappy plumbing”—and adds a plug for her OnlySimps page: “Subscribe so I can shoot in hotter spots.”
She films a few more mirror selfies and belfies. Then her phone buzzes—Brad, her boyfriend. She flirts with him, promising a “full-body massage” later.
Unnoticed, two slick tentacles briefly slide out of the shower drain before vanishing again.
Scene Five – The Shower
Music cues up: “Cannibal” by Kesha.
Kelsy undresses, tosses her clothes aside, and steps into the shower. Steam rises. Water cascades down her body as her silhouette dances playfully behind blue glass.
Then—the drain gurgles. Water rises.
“Fuck,” she mutters, shutting off the tap.
The drain cover pops free. She presses it back—it won’t stay. She pokes inside with her foot. Suddenly, a tentacle coils around her ankle.
Kelsy screams, slips, crashes to the floor. She thrashes, kicking free, and scrambles to the shower door. Another tentacle spits thick slime, sealing the lock.
Panic. She scans for escape: too high to climb. Beneath the door, a small gap—about 7.5 inches (ca. 19 cm). Dropping, she shoves herself under.
Her shoulders squeeze through, her arms free—but her hips wedge tight. Stuck.
“Help!” she cries.
At the front desk, Kelly is slumped asleep.
Back in the locker room, Kelsy stretches desperately toward her iPhone lying on a nearby bench. Her fingertips brush it, tipping it off the edge. The screen goes dark as it clatters to the floor—just out of reach.
The tentacle rises, curious and probing. Its tip brushes against Kelsy’s skin. She freezes, confused, as the creature begins exploring her clitoris.
Kelsy struggles to squeeze her buttocks through the narrow clearance, stretching and maneuvering, exposing herself further to the probing appendages. The creature continues its playful exploration.
Her eyes widen, then she murmurs in confusion, overwhelmed by the strange sensations. Meanwhile, the tentacle drifts along her curves and her private areas. She ceases resisting, caught in a mix of fear and sensation.
Kelsy spreads her legs, allowing the creature more access, and more tentacles emerge from the drain, wrapping around her waist and legs. They brought her back inside the box, without resistance. She no longer fights, moving instinctively, her hips responding to the rhythmic probing. One tentacle teases her pussy, while another targets her ass, flicking and punishing her bottom like a small whip.
Eventually, one appendage enters her vagina. Kelsy gasps, her eyes blanking briefly. The tentacle moves, and she mirrors the motion, jiggling her hips. Other tentacles brush her nipples, one loops around her neck. She seems caught up in horniness.
Her movements and reactions intensify. She announces her first orgasm, and loses herself in the experience. After a moment, she slumps to the shower floor, breathing heavily. Slowly, she sits over the drain, hands spread over the wall, her backs to the viewer. Another tentacle surfaces, probing her anus. Her movements grow more desperate, the sexual stimulation reaching new heights.
At some point, Kelsy is fully overtaken, riding the tentacles with abandon. She experiences a new orgasm, her body trembling. The appendages release loads of cum over her. She collapses, legs splayed, fully covered in the residue of the encounter.
Even afterward, the tentacles linger, not fully satisfied. They continue to probe, and she responds with loud moaning, while viciously rubbing her clit. The intensity escalates quickly, building to another peak followed by a massive squirt, leaving her convulsing and spent. Eventually, the tentacles recede. Kelsy lies motionless for a while, questioning whether it really happened.
She finally rises and kneels over the drain, peering inside. Silence fills the locker room—until a massive, phallic creature bursts forth. Its head, a toothed mouth surrounded by eight tentacles—the very ones that had interacted with Kelsy—lunges at her.
She crawls backward toward the glass door. The creature opens its mouth toward her. She screams as it attacks, swallowing her head first. Struggling, she presses her booty against the glass, as the creature continues consuming her, chest and waist disappearing inside its maw.
To aid its grip, the creature lifts her, letting her legs dangle as gravity guides her down its digestive tract. Then, the creature retreats to the drain. Kelsy’s muffled screams fade quickly, and the last of her disappears—her feet slipping through the narrow opening. Silence returns to the locker room.
Later, Kelly, the gym’s owner, awakens at the front desk. It’s very late. She hurries to close the gym, tidying up remnants of the shoot, including a half-empty bottle of Maxxi Curves, which she tosses into the drinking fountain drain.
A strange sound echoes through the pipes—a loud, ominous burp. Terrified, Kelly abandons the gym and rushes home.
The End
A group of dancers performs sultry routines in the mirrored gym studio. The camera lingers on Kelsy, 24, a blonde bombshell with a bubble butt and a sculpted physique. She wears tight shorts, a long-sleeved crop top, sneakers, and a choker. Her hair is tied in playful double buns.
She moves with confidence, her body syncing perfectly to the pulsing electronic track. Jimmy, a shy young man with a camera, films her—his lens locked on the rapid, hypnotic motion of her hips.
The shot drops to the floor, then passes beneath it. The muffled music fades as we enter the crawlspace: rats scurry between pipes draped in cobwebs. The camera glides forward, entering a sewer line.
Inside the pipe, silence. A faint, suspenseful score begins to rise. Something slimy shifts in the dark. It lunges at the lens, flipping it around—now we see through the creature’s point of view as it slithers through the tunnel.
The music intensifies as it climbs toward the drain of a drinking fountain. The camera bursts upward, swivels, and locks onto the black hole of the drain.
Letters merge with the metal grating to form the title:
“The Thing From Within the Drain.”
Tasha, 25, a Black dancer, leans over the fountain to drink. Across the room, Kelsy wraps her shoot with Jimmy, then joins her, flushed with energy and satisfaction.
Their exchange is polite but distant—until Kelsy produces a small bottle labeled Maxxi Curves. She stirs some powder into a colorful tumbler, takes a sip, and grimaces.
Tasha raises an eyebrow.
Kelsy explains: Maxxi Curves “boosts protein absorption, burns fat, and enhances curves.” Tasha doubts her, but Kelsy insists, “everyone’s on it.” Around the gym, empty bottles of the supplement sit on benches and in trash bins.
As proof, Kelsy turns and proudly displays her toned, round buttocks, encouraging Tasha to feel them. Skeptical, Tasha crouches to inspect—and is surprised at how firm they are.
Behind them, the fountain gurgles. A tentacle squeezes through the narrow drain, silently reaching for Tasha. Before it can touch her, she straightens, breaking its path. The appendage slides back, then aims at Kelsy instead.
Just before it strikes, Luna, 27, a striking Latina dancer, sneaks up and playfully slaps Kelsy’s ass. The tentacle recoils into the drain. Tasha glances back suspiciously—but the fountain looks normal.
Later, Kelsy joins Jimmy as he edits footage on his laptop. She sits close, making him squirm while she lounges comfortably.
A video montage plays: the dancers performing, laughing, stretching, working out. The cuts, however, linger on Kelsy.
Tasha and Luna call Jimmy out. He stammers, unable to defend himself. Kelsy praises the work, but Tasha demands fairer edits. Kelsy dismisses her concerns. The tension breaks when Kelly, the gym owner, arrives to announce closing time.
Tasha and Luna pack up, muttering about Kelsy as they leave. Kelsy thanks Kelly for letting them film and, before leaving, insists she needs a shower. Both Kelly and Jimmy protest—it’s late. Jimmy even offers her a ride home.
But Kelsy refuses to meet her boyfriend all “sweaty and stinky.” She begs, promising to promote the gym even more on her socials. Kelly hesitates, then relents.
She escorts Jimmy out, flips the “Closed” sign, and locks the door. Kelsy stays behind.
In the empty studio, Kelsy stretches, then heads toward the locker rooms, filming a quick selfie for her fans.
“Fresh content dropping soon,” she beams.
A metallic groan echoes through the walls. She shrugs—“crappy plumbing”—and adds a plug for her OnlySimps page: “Subscribe so I can shoot in hotter spots.”
She films a few more mirror selfies and belfies. Then her phone buzzes—Brad, her boyfriend. She flirts with him, promising a “full-body massage” later.
Unnoticed, two slick tentacles briefly slide out of the shower drain before vanishing again.
Music cues up: “Cannibal” by Kesha.
Kelsy undresses, tosses her clothes aside, and steps into the shower. Steam rises. Water cascades down her body as her silhouette dances playfully behind blue glass.
Then—the drain gurgles. Water rises.
“Fuck,” she mutters, shutting off the tap.
The drain cover pops free. She presses it back—it won’t stay. She pokes inside with her foot. Suddenly, a tentacle coils around her ankle.
Kelsy screams, slips, crashes to the floor. She thrashes, kicking free, and scrambles to the shower door. Another tentacle spits thick slime, sealing the lock.
Panic. She scans for escape: too high to climb. Beneath the door, a small gap—about 7.5 inches (ca. 19 cm). Dropping, she shoves herself under.
Her shoulders squeeze through, her arms free—but her hips wedge tight. Stuck.
“Help!” she cries.
At the front desk, Kelly is slumped asleep.
Back in the locker room, Kelsy stretches desperately toward her iPhone lying on a nearby bench. Her fingertips brush it, tipping it off the edge. The screen goes dark as it clatters to the floor—just out of reach.
The tentacle rises, curious and probing. Its tip brushes against Kelsy’s skin. She freezes, confused, as the creature begins exploring her clitoris.
Kelsy struggles to squeeze her buttocks through the narrow clearance, stretching and maneuvering, exposing herself further to the probing appendages. The creature continues its playful exploration.
Her eyes widen, then she murmurs in confusion, overwhelmed by the strange sensations. Meanwhile, the tentacle drifts along her curves and her private areas. She ceases resisting, caught in a mix of fear and sensation.
Kelsy spreads her legs, allowing the creature more access, and more tentacles emerge from the drain, wrapping around her waist and legs. They brought her back inside the box, without resistance. She no longer fights, moving instinctively, her hips responding to the rhythmic probing. One tentacle teases her pussy, while another targets her ass, flicking and punishing her bottom like a small whip.
Eventually, one appendage enters her vagina. Kelsy gasps, her eyes blanking briefly. The tentacle moves, and she mirrors the motion, jiggling her hips. Other tentacles brush her nipples, one loops around her neck. She seems caught up in horniness.
Her movements and reactions intensify. She announces her first orgasm, and loses herself in the experience. After a moment, she slumps to the shower floor, breathing heavily. Slowly, she sits over the drain, hands spread over the wall, her backs to the viewer. Another tentacle surfaces, probing her anus. Her movements grow more desperate, the sexual stimulation reaching new heights.
At some point, Kelsy is fully overtaken, riding the tentacles with abandon. She experiences a new orgasm, her body trembling. The appendages release loads of cum over her. She collapses, legs splayed, fully covered in the residue of the encounter.
Even afterward, the tentacles linger, not fully satisfied. They continue to probe, and she responds with loud moaning, while viciously rubbing her clit. The intensity escalates quickly, building to another peak followed by a massive squirt, leaving her convulsing and spent. Eventually, the tentacles recede. Kelsy lies motionless for a while, questioning whether it really happened.
She finally rises and kneels over the drain, peering inside. Silence fills the locker room—until a massive, phallic creature bursts forth. Its head, a toothed mouth surrounded by eight tentacles—the very ones that had interacted with Kelsy—lunges at her.
She crawls backward toward the glass door. The creature opens its mouth toward her. She screams as it attacks, swallowing her head first. Struggling, she presses her booty against the glass, as the creature continues consuming her, chest and waist disappearing inside its maw.
To aid its grip, the creature lifts her, letting her legs dangle as gravity guides her down its digestive tract. Then, the creature retreats to the drain. Kelsy’s muffled screams fade quickly, and the last of her disappears—her feet slipping through the narrow opening. Silence returns to the locker room.
Later, Kelly, the gym’s owner, awakens at the front desk. It’s very late. She hurries to close the gym, tidying up remnants of the shoot, including a half-empty bottle of Maxxi Curves, which she tosses into the drinking fountain drain.
A strange sound echoes through the pipes—a loud, ominous burp. Terrified, Kelly abandons the gym and rushes home.
The End