A marine biologist with an interest in studying octopus tangles with a mad scientist and his robotic robotic squid in this hot tentacle bondage story by steve mchalperin.

What Are You Going To Do To Me, Sir? - Story 3: Tentacles (Chapters 1 & 2)
by steve mchalperin
Series: What Are You Going To Do To Me, Sir?

Chapter 1: Marine Biology as a Career

My major in college was biology, specifically marine biology. I graduated from the University of Texas Houston two years ago and I’m feeling pretty confident about my career track. When I was in college, I worked at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute in Massachusetts for two summers. It’s a premier biochem and marine biology center. Plus I escaped the Houston summer, which can be brutal. My specialty is octopi, a major species in the class Cephalopoda. I realize this sounds weird, but I grew up in an Italian family and grew to really like calamari, which is a small squid. The more I learned about the little rascals, the more interested I became in their biology. So now I am a staff researcher at a really great location.

During the winter, our dress at the institute is pretty standard, although I like tight shirt and pants. But in the summer it’s a blast. There are two research vessels the institute uses for “field trips,” which are really “ocean trips.” We collect samples, take measurements of salinity and temperature, and also a lot of scuba diving. In the summer on board the ships, dress for most of us young guys is just shorts. Everyone wants a good upper body tan. For dives all you wear is Speedos, the tighter and skimpier, the better. The really sexy trick is to get them a few sizes too small. This shows some pube hair in front and an inch of ass crack in the back. Even in between dives, a lot of us wear Speedos. It drives the older crew guys crazy. Hey, it’s easy to pack for a summer field trip: stuff your Speedos in a pocket and you’re good to go. Yes, there are females and the curvier, younger ones like bikinis in the summer. They’re not on my radar, however. All you need is the tiny speedos; the institute provides all the dive equipment and it’s top notch stuff. The young guys like me provide the entertainment. Think about this: getting fucked underwater in scuba gear. It happens. One time last summer the guy was so rough with me my Speedos ripped. I had to cup my junk to get back to my cabin. Of course, that led to my nickname at the instate, “big rip.”

One of the PhDs here, a Dr. Reynolds, took me under his wing when I first started my summer internships at Woods Hole and now I work for him. He is interested in cephalopods also, specializing in giant squids, the stuff of sailing legends. They really do exist, but they’re not the monsters depicted on the old maps in the “there be dragons” corners. They show giant squids grappling sailing ships in their tentacles and dragging them down to underwater doom. Pure fantasy. But, hey, a fifty-foot average length squid is something you don’t want to meet while scuba diving. In fact, Dr. Reynolds says they are more frightened of people and have a reputation of being rather shy. So, we have a shy monster, or at least that’s what he said.

Dr. Reynolds was in his early fifties, not married, and quite fit. He’s one of those guys who bicycle to work everyday and continue to go to the gym. He also had a “thing” for young guys, so we got along quite well. My sexual needle migrated to gay while I was in high school on the wrestling team. A lot of antics take place in the showers after practice, and I guess I grew to like taking it. I certainly had enough experience. I got to college on a wrestling half scholarship and, well, things just progressed. Submission wrestling cemented my S&M category as bottom, and a pain pig at that.

When I first met him, Dr. Reynolds was polite and careful in our dealings. The more he found out about me, however, the more aggressive he got. He’s the one that ripped my Speedos. Now that I’m on the job with him, we occasionally have dinner together, and I’ve spent a few nights at his very spacious house on Cape Cod.

He was quite bright, and actually had two PhDs, one in marine biology and the other in cybernetics, a very unusual combination. His day job was with the squids; at night he played around in a computer lab in his house. He told me he was independently wealthy from a family inheritance, so his biology and computer work was all for love – or for fun, as I found out.

I remember that night in the local bar, The Fisherman, a mile away from the institute. We had had two rounds of beer and bourbon, and we both were rather relaxed.

“You know, Tom,” he said, “I’m close to finishing up a major cybernetics project at my house. You haven’t seen the workrooms yet, but they’re quite well equipped”

“If’n I might ask, sir, what’s the nature of the project?” I asked, finishing off the second bourbon (which he always paid for! I’m not a cheap date.)

“I’ve been able to fuse my interest in the squids with my interest in robotics,” he answered.

“How in the hell can do you that, sir?” I had to ask. Where was this going?

“If I tell you, boy, but you’ll have to keep it a total secret. I’m applying for a patent and word CANNOT get out before I file.”

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Chapter 2: The “Device”

He usually called me “boy,” which I liked. Although he had to be discreet on the job (except in the water!), I think we both knew where this relationship was going. I mean, we had a few good fucks – or should I say he had a few good fucks; I was on the fuckee end. But I didn’t knew how far into BDSM he was. Turns out, pretty fuckin’ far!

“OK, sir, I understand that and my lips are sealed, sir” I said, eager to know what he was up to. “Please tell me more, sir.”

“Well, boy, it centers around making a robotic squid, something with sucker arms and two long poda [the two long arms characteristic of squids]. I have made artificial tentacles, totally articulated and movable, and two longer poda, with controllable pads. It’s programmable and almost true sized. I did make the poda slightly smaller than the real giant squids, but it’s still impressive, none the less.”

“How do you get the arms to move, sir?” I asked.

“They are all hydraulically powered and extremely strong. The larger, stronger movements are powered by massive pumps and I have a large array of small pumps for more delicate work. I have an AI-based controller, which is the brain of the squid. Dr. Harris from IT helped me do the initial programming, but after that it learns on its own. The arms are equipped with sensors which feed back positional data to the controller. If you closed your eyes, you would still sort of know where your arms and legs were. It’s called propriosensation. I have duplicated that electronically. The algorithm’s a key part of the patent. There are also many videocams. The AI takes the integrated input from all the sensors and video feeds, and my algorithm produces a precise location of every element in the system. ”

“Sir, that sounds really cool,” I had to say. His combination of biology and cybernetics was impressive. I also just HAD to see this thing for myself.

“Sir, since I am bound not to reveal anything about this, is there a chance I could see it in action?” I asked tentatively.

“Of course!” he blurted out. “That was my plan all along.”

I wasn’t quite sure what his reply meant. Had he really planned to show me? Or was that just a poor turn of phrase? In any event, at least I would get a chance to see the “thing.”

He then continued: “Want to stay at my house tonight? I need your ass and if you’re a good boy I’ll show you my robo-squid.”

I just smiled my answer and we left the The Fisherman.

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