Figure inspired by Lunate

Davis was walking through the woods on his way to the beach, ahead of him, a shortcut through the tar pit could save him an extra 30 minutes of walking.

The tar pit was located in a field surrounded by a weathered chain link fence which was easy to bypass. Davis knew from friends and talk of the town that the tar was really only a few inches deep. He was wearing his brown leather hiking boots and felt confident he could make it through by stepping on stones and stepping along the shallow areas.

Davis slipped through a broken section of the fence and began dredging through the tar. The sticky goop clung to the bottom of his boots as carried on, listening to the satisfying squelching and churning of the thicker-than-molasses tar beneath his feet.

Suddenly, Davis felt his footing give way, and he sank up to his ankles into the tar. The gunk had a string hold on him, and he wasn’t able to take another step forward.

As he grunted while stuck in the tar, he heard it begin bubbling between his legs. Suddenly, thick tentacles emerged from the goop and trailed up his legs, leaving behind warm, sticky tar, dripping from his sinewy legs.

“What the hell—?” Davis exclaimed before one of the tentacles wrapped itself firmly around his neck

“Uurk!” He grunted as the tentacle applied a firm yet tender pressure around his throat. More and more tentacles arose from the tar and began wrapping themselves around him, dragging him deeper and deeper into the pit.

“Please!” Davis managed to whisper through laboured breaths, “let… me… go!”

One of the tentacles smeared itself around Davis’ mouth and face, sealing him up for good.

“Mmpghh!!” Davis could only moan through the sticky tar that has entombed his lips.

Davis struggled and thrashed as the tentacles pulled him waist deep into the tar. It was warm and inviting as his skin slipped beneath the surface of the bubbles.

Davis was beginning to enjoy himself, the warm bubbly tar made a perfect environment to be milked multiple times before fully submerging.

After his third load, Davis was chest deep, his arms were trapped in eternal bondage beneath the tar. Tears streamed down his face as the roaring of the bubbles grew louder with every inch that he sank.

When Davis was neck deep in the tar, the tentacles wrapped around his neck and head, forcing him to look up at the blue sky.

“Mmmphhh” Davis grunted into his sticky gag.

The tentacles began to pull his face under, suddenly the world went quiet as his ears submerged beneath the tar. And then blackness encompassed him as his forehead and eyes sank below the surface. This is when the tentacles locked in place, and stopped pulling Davis deeper. Only the nostrils of his nose were available to the surface level, allowing him to inhale precious oxygen, and this is how the tentacles will keep him.