Angela stood outside the dilapidated old warehouse with a quiver of nerves. What was this new job all about, why did her boss send her there? She opened the rusty old steel door and stepped in. She squinted trying to see in the dimly lit warehouse. She looked up only to see the shadows of the giant steel framework of the building. Looking forward all she could make out was an isle made by shipping crates. Calling out into the darkness, "Mr. Jones?” she beckons. From the darkness she hears a faint noise in the distance.

As Angela walks the length of the old building the isle starts to widen and the ambient light lessens. She stops, realize now that she can no longer distinguish where she is. Looking back she can’t even see the isle she just came down. From the corner of her eye she started to realize, the floor around her was starting to move. Almost like liquid it swayed and rippled. It was so hard to make out in the bleak light of the room. Angela was now completely freaked out, her heart started racing with extreme fear; it was time for her to go, but which way. Just as her instinct to flee took over the mystery in the shadow became all to clear.

Angela screamed as something grabbed both her ankles. She looked down to see blackened tentacles coming from either side of her, wrapping themselves around her legs several time. They were warm to the touch, shinny black, they seemed to flow as if they were liquid held in space. Just as suddenly her flailing arms as well are grabbed by the writs as her arms pulled away from her. Another tactical comes and slowly wraps her midsection, until she is immobile. All of he limbs pulled close to their extremes. Still unable to see in the dim lighting of the huge room and her body constrained she can only feel what is happening to her. She begins to be lifted off the floor as the tentacles support her. She struggles, but the mysterious black arms are immovable. Working to crane her head, she sees more tentacles, not entrapping her, but disrobing her.

With her clothing ripped from her body, Angela remains suspended several feet off the ground. A moment passes, as she lies there wondering what her future holds, a new sensation occurs. The almost overwhelming fear slightly subsides as one of the tentacles enters backside. The foreign entry is alarming, but warm and soft. She feels the intruder filling her with fluid, her body tingles with pleasure. Then another tentacle enters her womanhood, only to do the same. The fear and anxiety temporarily subside for a slight moment of pleasure.

The moment however is very short. Upon completion of delivering their package the tentacles retreat into the darkness. Angela can now feel her body filled with the mysterious black liquid, she can tell it’s coursing through her veins. Confused and alone she is sill locked against her will, suspended in mid air. But she now feels calmer as the warm sensation of the liquid seems to penetrate ever part of her body from the inside. But it does not stop there, a black goo now begins to excrete from the same orifices it entered from. It clings to Angela’s body, flowing in all directions as it comes out. It surrounds her upper thighs and waist, almost forming liquid briefs. She feels it continue up the center of her back, part of it to continue around her neck to create a posture collar and the rest spreading to wrap her upper arms and shoulders.

It almost seems to harden around her. Then there is the sensation that she is being lifted, higher in the room. When she gets to the top of her elevator ride, the hardened goo from hear waist liquefies again, enough to create a pillar straight up into the darkness. Just then the supporting tentacles depart just as rapidly as they appeared. She shrieks, suspecting she will fall but as she feels the support disappear from her writs and ankles Angela realizes that she is now supported by the hardened casing that had just formed around her and connected to the steel girder of the ceiling. Her head supported by the rigid posture collar, her forearms free as her upper arm and shoulders are constrained by the solidified goo. The same with her lower legs, left to dangle and the rest of her is now supported by the new shell that encases her lower midsection.

Angela hung motionless from the warehouse ceiling for what she believed to be several days. She was very amazed at her total lack of need for food or water. What ever the liquid did inside her, it now seemed to sustain her, be part of her. Then she hears a door creek open. Could someone actually be here to help her? Her hopes are suddenly squelched when she hears a female voice call out "Mr. Jones??