consentacle fun, etc.
The following prompts can be BYOM (bring your own monster) if you so desire! Anything goes. Literally anything.
"Monsters" are common around here. They always have been. While many societies choose to revere them as gods or use them to instill fear into ill-behaved children, the monsters of New Cloudbank are one with the people and have been able to hold jobs, own property and self, and vote; freedoms gained from a civil movement some decades ago. While societal integration has gone somewhat smoothly, there is some resistance held by conservative individuals that look down on monster-human relations and hold the untrue belief that some of the less humanshape monsters are a threat to people.
Boxer is an example of one such creature. His upper body is proportionally larger than any human; that if he stood on human legs he would easily reach thirteen feet tall, cut like someone who exercises on a needlessly regular schedule. However, he does not stand on human legs at all, but rather a numerous set of tentacles, rich cocoa-brown like the rest of his skin, decorated with stark yellow stripes at their base and a line of dots along their topsides, lined with dark golden suction cups on the opposite side, and delicate membranes between them. His yellow accents, including his eyes, glow under dark enough conditions to see them.
He's never harmed a human in his life, much rather the opposite if anything, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation for it...
Errands.
A monster's gotta eat.
Of course, he doesn't have to drop by for meat, as the only thing he puts on his table are things he caught with his own hands swimming in the depths outside of the bay. But frying fish in its own juices does not a meal plan make, so regular supermarket trips are the solution to well-rounded meals.
But he can't quite get around like everyone else, on account of boneless tentacles being designed more for underwater agility than, well, walking. So he has to opt for a wheelchair, one custom-built to accommodate his bulk and allows him to comfortably use his extra appendages for his wheel-based mobility while keeping his hands free.
Although being just shy of wheelchair-bound on land, he's at less disadvantage than one might think, using his long tentacles to snatch things off of the topmost shelf with length to spare. Otherwise, he tries to keep them hidden under a soft, knitted blanket, for the comfort of strangers, who tend to stare anyway. (Oh well.) He likes to joke that it's not his form, but the fact that he chooses to dress somewhat formally even for his mundane outings, even though he knows that's not the case.
Maybe you're the one struggling to reach that favorite item of yours so conveniently stashed just beyond finger's grasp on the top shelf.
"Here. I'll get that for you," he says, with an easy smile.
Bet you weren't prepared for a tentacle to hand you something when you went out today.
Shore.
This quiet little section of the beach is usually deserted, rumored to be the place where feral monsters hunt for humans. Now this, this is a rumor that is entirely Boxer's fault, purposely spread to his few visitors so he could have this little piece of heaven all to himself.
Maybe you're a regular here. Maybe you're a brave new first-time visitor, hopefully to catch sight of the man-eating monster for yourself. Either way, the sight is hardly as intimidating as the legend: he's sprawled out naked on the warm sand, basking in the sunlight that beats against his bare, chiseled back as he naps.
Scary.
Water.
New Cloudbank is a large city-state with bustling seaside commerce, full of fishery companies, international trade, and tourism. A water-dweller like Boxer is almost never without work, since many companies are chomping at the bit to commission an strong, amphibious monster to survey the deep for the next best catch, keeping the water safe, or mounting rescues for wayward tourists.
He loves what he does for a living.
Maybe you, too, are of similar business, using your nonhuman physiology to your advantage in the outer bay waters, catching Boxer in the middle of what he does best. Or maybe you're simply a patron of these companies--for Boxer, as brazen as he is to get a free drink, will gladly suction-cup climb his way into boats and schmooze with locals and tourists alike.
Wildcard!

"Monsters" are common around here. They always have been. While many societies choose to revere them as gods or use them to instill fear into ill-behaved children, the monsters of New Cloudbank are one with the people and have been able to hold jobs, own property and self, and vote; freedoms gained from a civil movement some decades ago. While societal integration has gone somewhat smoothly, there is some resistance held by conservative individuals that look down on monster-human relations and hold the untrue belief that some of the less humanshape monsters are a threat to people.
Boxer is an example of one such creature. His upper body is proportionally larger than any human; that if he stood on human legs he would easily reach thirteen feet tall, cut like someone who exercises on a needlessly regular schedule. However, he does not stand on human legs at all, but rather a numerous set of tentacles, rich cocoa-brown like the rest of his skin, decorated with stark yellow stripes at their base and a line of dots along their topsides, lined with dark golden suction cups on the opposite side, and delicate membranes between them. His yellow accents, including his eyes, glow under dark enough conditions to see them.
He's never harmed a human in his life, much rather the opposite if anything, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a reputation for it...
Errands.
A monster's gotta eat.
Of course, he doesn't have to drop by for meat, as the only thing he puts on his table are things he caught with his own hands swimming in the depths outside of the bay. But frying fish in its own juices does not a meal plan make, so regular supermarket trips are the solution to well-rounded meals.
But he can't quite get around like everyone else, on account of boneless tentacles being designed more for underwater agility than, well, walking. So he has to opt for a wheelchair, one custom-built to accommodate his bulk and allows him to comfortably use his extra appendages for his wheel-based mobility while keeping his hands free.
Although being just shy of wheelchair-bound on land, he's at less disadvantage than one might think, using his long tentacles to snatch things off of the topmost shelf with length to spare. Otherwise, he tries to keep them hidden under a soft, knitted blanket, for the comfort of strangers, who tend to stare anyway. (Oh well.) He likes to joke that it's not his form, but the fact that he chooses to dress somewhat formally even for his mundane outings, even though he knows that's not the case.
Maybe you're the one struggling to reach that favorite item of yours so conveniently stashed just beyond finger's grasp on the top shelf.
"Here. I'll get that for you," he says, with an easy smile.
Bet you weren't prepared for a tentacle to hand you something when you went out today.
Shore.
This quiet little section of the beach is usually deserted, rumored to be the place where feral monsters hunt for humans. Now this, this is a rumor that is entirely Boxer's fault, purposely spread to his few visitors so he could have this little piece of heaven all to himself.
Maybe you're a regular here. Maybe you're a brave new first-time visitor, hopefully to catch sight of the man-eating monster for yourself. Either way, the sight is hardly as intimidating as the legend: he's sprawled out naked on the warm sand, basking in the sunlight that beats against his bare, chiseled back as he naps.
Scary.
Water.
New Cloudbank is a large city-state with bustling seaside commerce, full of fishery companies, international trade, and tourism. A water-dweller like Boxer is almost never without work, since many companies are chomping at the bit to commission an strong, amphibious monster to survey the deep for the next best catch, keeping the water safe, or mounting rescues for wayward tourists.
He loves what he does for a living.
Maybe you, too, are of similar business, using your nonhuman physiology to your advantage in the outer bay waters, catching Boxer in the middle of what he does best. Or maybe you're simply a patron of these companies--for Boxer, as brazen as he is to get a free drink, will gladly suction-cup climb his way into boats and schmooze with locals and tourists alike.
Wildcard!

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It's very busy down there, with all those large, numerous sucker sets and the pale membrane between them. Now she can see where his penis comes from: in the center of it all, where his flesh distends a little bit around it to accommodate his girth, but it doesn't look painful.
His face is very red by now. Sure, it's not like it's a secret he tries to keep, but very few people get to see the underside of a kraken, and those that do rarely live to tell it. He doesn't really want the feeling of being shamelessly exposed to go away, though...]
So...how's the view?
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For the most part there's a lot of processing, she has to figure out what she's actually seeing before there can be any valid reaction. But once that fades she's ... Really, really curious. Also, it's weirdly comforting to know where his dick comes from because it really did just seem to come in and out of the ether of the unknown universe. She'd still like the guy if he had a magical cock but it might have been a little weird. This is at least perfectly logical, and simple to absorb.]
Pretty damn cool.
[Because, well, it is! She doesn't have the mind to censor her reactions any, and she leans a bit closer to really take in the pattern of his suckers. Without really thinking about it she slides her fingers over one sucker, and then another, sort of making a little trail inward, towards the center.] Are these ones different from the others?
[More sensitive or prone to anything? It's sort of an idle question and ... Maybe she should have waited for an invitation to go exploring his anatomy - nobody'd blame you for telling her to back off, Boxer.]
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[Actually, to have her come closer was exactly what he wanted. The fact that she wants to play with his suckers is inconsequential.]
They're the strongest ones. It's because of them I can climb sheer surfaces...and their suction is strong enough to rip someone's skin off if I wanted to.
[Is that layer of potential danger at all exciting, Noriko? Although he'd actively have to attempt it to make it happen. While he entertains her line of curiosity, however, his dick is starting to weave around her hips.]
Say, Noriko...have you ever wanted to have your own giant tentacle dick?
[Because his tentacle is definitely wrapped around her hips like a solid strap-on, giving her a good six feet of soft dick to play with.]
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But what's far more important is the way he's wrapped around her body, she has to grin at how inventive that is.]
Not really, but it's definitely good to try out as much as you can in life!
[Besides, this feels a lot more comfortable than a regular strap on, even if she does kind of worry about his length bending and twisting to fit her body - doesn't that hurt?
But a more important question might be ... Where can it go, for him? Maybe where it basically starts? That's a possibility. Either way she's already coming closer, trying to figure out the best position. He's really so much bigger than her, so she probably can't get around his membrane-skirt deal to get a hold of what counts for his hips, huh? She's never hated her own lack of size as much as she does right now.]
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But both of them are very comfortable, which means that he's got the all green. Don't worry, Noriko, you'll figure out how to get your hands on his hips soon.]
So, uh...
[Man, it sucks that he has to pause the momentum right now, but...]
I know this can look kinda gross...but it's just ink, promise.
[His free hand reaches down and touches a part of himself that is just above his gold tentacle, and it finally makes itself apparent as an orifice when he spreads the flesh to expose it further. It, uh...
starts drooling black fluid.]
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It's not bad! Don't worry so much. [Granted, he's got a reason to, he's making himself incredibly vulnerable here, but she pats at the top-ish area of his membrane-skirt all the same, a gesture meant to be more comforting than anything else. The ink is definitely weird looking but it'd be even weirder if a passage that was made for being penetrated didn't have some form of lubrication. Or, well, it'd certainly hurt a whole lot more if you were going to use it for messing around.]
Kinda always wondered how it felt. [And now is a good time to figure that out! Rather than just stand there on her knees one hand goes ahead and lazily strokes his dick where it's nestled between her legs. The other traces the rim of his apparent entrance, and it seems kinda right (or at least safe) to treat it sort of like a pussy, with consideration and patience. Can she work a finger in there, or is it best to let him keep showing her?]
I mean, if it can work anything like mine, then isn't it sort of a good sign? 'Dry ain't high, but wet is best' and all that.
[... Don't ask where she heard that. Or do, but it's an awkward and kind of pathetic story.]
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God, it's enough to make him want to cry.]
It's, uh...
[Wow, he can't even get his thoughts in order. She's making him feel incredible on the inside and the outside. How the hell could his ex possibly let her go...?]
I'm making it come out. Don't want too much, 'cause it stains--skin included.
[So she's more than welcome to finger him, if she doesn't mind having fingers that look like she had an overexcited henna tattoo artist go at her fingers.
But her little phonetic makes him chuckle a little bit, helping him get out of that mental self-consciousness.]
I-I don't think I've heard that one before.
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No one will believe her, but they won't say anything, either.
So for now she focuses on slowly edging her finger in, smearing the ink around his rim, mostly to see if it helps. About halfway in she stops to slowly shift in and out, seeing how he reacts to it, feeling the literal inside of his body, testing the squeeze of the passage and all that. There's a lot of irony in the fact that she's touching him the same way she wished someone would have when she was a virgin, though she has no doubt that Boxer isn't one, even in this way.]
Tell me if I'm hitting a bad note here, handsome.
[She's incredibly focused on each motion, from pumping his cock to fingerfucking the guy. She's maybe a little too gentle, but incredibly focused and most of all? She's not particularly nervous so much as intensely determined to make sure she doesn't accidentally scratch something the wrong way, or push a limit of his - she'll have to shorten her nails a bit now.]
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Mmh...
[He shifts his weight side to side a little as his bulk settles into the couch a little more, his eyes falling shut.]
Frankly, I'm in heaven right now.
[She is really gentle. Really, really gentle, in a way that he wouldn't even afford himself. But instead of getting frustrated or bored, he just enjoys the ride, a unique touch that is worth savoring every second.
(Usually he just eats virgins out. The mouth with a bunch of sharp teeth seems like the best option, given a single finger would be a standard stretch for someone experienced.)
Boxer's back arches his back gracefully, shoulders and hips raising up as a more ink gushes out of him. As he does so, the tentacle around her hips becomes a tighter fit while the section in her hand gets gradually thicker and hotter, and that fountain of precum starts up again.
There's probably a real good reason why the couch they're sitting in is all black pleather.]
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She squeezes the somewhat shared cock, and though the squeeze along her hips and limbs is a bit alarming she doesn't let it bother her. He's literally getting harder in her palm so it's probably to be expected. She works that hand a little faster, getting some of that precum on her fingers and using it to slick up the rest of him, because there's no such thing as being too wet.
And the couch can take it anyway.
The other hand remains gentle, but it's much steadier as she adds a second finger and twists them in place before working up a better, more solid pace.]
Still doing it on purpose? [Because from her view it seems like that ink is more than happy to make its way out! Two doesn't seem like enough to handle the girth of his cock so she goes for three, stopping entirely to be utterly cautious, before she goes back to thrusting solidly, wriggling the digits inside, actively pressing inside of him.
Throughout the whole of this she's just getting wetter, the arousal is becoming a violent knot in the pit of her stomach, so he'll have to forgive her for panting a little. If Boxer looks back he's going to see the manically focused expression she's wearing, and it shifts so quickly to open adoration that the former sentiment might seem like a momentary illusion. She wants to be touched too, but she also wants that look back on his face - except without the acting, or the threat of violent choking.]
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Yeeeeahhhh. I mean...it's not...designed to be a sex organ.
[It's a cloaca! For all intents and purposes, it's the same as an anus, except it has a neat little defensive mechanic that Boxer is abusing in the name of being stingy on buying actual lube.]
If it was coming out on its own, something bad is happening.
[He'd like to convey that a little more eloquently, but he really just wants to focus on how good she's making him feel.
His insides are slippery and delightfully warm, but unlike a human dude, there's not much to touch about two inches in. What might be of interest, however, is that below--presumably the space between his depth and whatever space his penis has to hide within--lies two hard, round shapes just barely within reach of her fingertips.
The addition of a third finger has clearly started to really wind him up, because along the soft mumble he makes, the tentacles around her start to curl tightly around her legs, suction cups attaching to her skin. The temptation to wrap around her midsection and hips is strong, but in the back of his mind he knows that she's gonna need her hips to be free soon.]
M-more...
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Hm. Careful now, you might convince me that I'm being a little too gentle with you!
[Which, y'know, she is, but excitement isn't always fast and unyielding. Occasionally it's slow and comfortable, and it's selfish to milk it for all that it's worth but, well, Nariko can be a selfish person sometimes. That's pretty much a fact. She spreads her fingers a little, wiggles them in and ends up brushing her fingers over those round shapes. The first thing she thinks of is ... Kraken prostate! So that can't be too bad to explore, right? Right, definitely.]
I think we're a little limited with my fingers. Small hands, y'know.
[She's talking just for the sake of getting him to respond, in part to quell her own nervous excitement, but also because there's nothing quite like hearing someone beg. Just like there's nothing quite like begging for someone to fuck you! It's a delightful thing that's made better by going both ways.
For the sake of caution it's best to make sure he's as comfortable stretched as possible so that the incredibly thick girth of his cock maybe doesn't hurt. Or, hey, maybe they're both sexual masochists and it'll work out perfectly! Doesn't feel like the kind of thing to risk, though. Besides, she's really getting the hang of using the ink to her advantage, so while it definitely stains it's great for smooth, faster movements, and she makes sure to ease a little farther, pushing the limits of her hand to reach into him.]
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It's not really in the forefront of his mind, the likelihood that Noriko just wants to hear him beg. Still, that doesn't mean he isn't going to give her exactly what she wants.]
Come onnn, Noriko...! You're only using your fingers!
[God. Her dexterity feels so good, he could put up with this for hours but it'll never bring him to orgasm. Not with this shallow stimulation.]
Plea--ah, ah...
[His rear backs up and wiggles by instinct, as if it'd help her get any deeper.]
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[But her thoughts and the words that come out of her mouth won't connect the right way for him. Maybe it's an idea worth bringing up later.]
Sorry, sorry. [She doesn't even sound a little sorry, just to be clear.] Like I said you're just too cute.
[Alright, time to pull her brain back together so that she can focus! There's a deep, shuddering breathe on her end that puts some strength back in her limbs. With her fingers stilled inside the other set guides the tip of his golden dick (she's never getting over the color. It's perfect.) to it's goal. Like before she defaults to steadiness above all else, it might be a little awkward because she's far more used to a traditional strap-on, one that isn't nearly as lengthy as he is. But she'll get it, and most importantly Nariko isn't babying him nearly as much. She steadily works steady inches in. Somewhere along the way she's begun to breathe heavily, and since she only needs one hand for the guidance the other is braced on him as she edges that much closer.
If she wasn't so engrossed in this task she might be a little alarmed at how easily he could probably wrap himself around the majority of her own body. But it turns out that fucking him is a way higher priority.]
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[He's not as creative as she is, because all he can think of are exotic dildos. He's picturing her wearing massive toys in unique shapes and textures, ones that would strike fear into the hearts of men. A remote-control vibrator, however, is not something he'd even hesitate in agreeing to. He might even ask for several of them, you know...to make up for his size.]
Back to being cute, huh.
[He stills when he can feel her getting ready to put it in. His dick intentionally gets a little stiffer, just for her ease of use--but he's careful not to take over for her, because that would ruin all of her fun.]
Yes, yes, yeeeessss....
[He practically purrs at every deepening inch, stretching easily around his own girth until she finally hits that satisfying hilt, her hips pressed against his mantle. If she wasn't worried about him wrapping her entirely up in his tentacles, she might now, because he lets go of the two tentacles he'd been keeping out of the way. Both latch onto her front and wrap over her shoulders and around the back of her neck. If she weren't captive before, she definitely is now. On the bright side, now his hips are nice and exposed for holding.]
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Careful, now. [Now that she's as far as she can really hope to go, she's got one hand free and it reaches up to pull at the tentacle on the back of her neck. It can go anywhere else on her body but not there, it's just a thing - one that could distract her a little too much.
But for now she leans forward a little, spreads both palms along his hips more for the sake of touching him than anything else. With a steady grip she draws back sort of cautiously, and then back in - it's short and sweet, but it doesn't seem to work too differently from a strap-on! And once she's figured that out there's no reason to keep a slow pace or continue to tease him! Now her experience comes into play, when she begins to move it's coordinated and smooth, building up in speed - no more torture for Boxer!]
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One of the greatest contributions to his self-control is that he knows if he takes over, Noriko might get injured--probably nothing worse than a bruise, but still.]
Sorry...
[Her neck isn't really something he was intentionally aiming for, anyway. He's quite content to wrap around her chest instead. But his arms wrap around the pillow under his head as he enjoys the ride--letting out a series of gentle groans as his tentacle slides--to Noriko's rhythm--against his prostate and internal testicles. It's not a very violent fuck, but it would be a smooth and easy ride to orgasm.
If the doorbell hadn't rang at that precise moment.
It all happens so quickly. The very second the loud electronic doorbell sound rings through the apartment, Noriko will discover what he meant by 'something bad' earlier, because she gets a good blast of ink against her midsection and hips and the segment of tentacle wrapped around them. The tentacles wrapped around her tighten--not in a painful way, but certainly unescapable, especially when the large suction cups that could apparently rip flesh off are attached to her now.
Thankfully, he's not trying to tear her apart, just hold on for dear life. The spooked look on his face is unapologetically present while he tries to figure out why the hell his doorbell went off.
In the middle of sex, too!]
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What the fuck. [Wait.]
Is that our food?!
[She might commit murder tonight, because the benefit of being so wrapped up in Boxer was that she didn't have to face how obnoxiously turned on she was. There's a horrid ache between her legs and a desire to be touched and fucked herself, and it translates into aggression far too easily.] Holy shit. [When she runs her fingers through her hair, her whole arm is shaking.
Okay, just - deep breathes. She can totally calm herself down! And not look like she was just in the middle of some perfectly intense messing around!]
Hold on a second! [For all the trouble the foods caused it's not leaving just because one of them forgot to say something, so that delivery person is going to live with being shouted at.] Seems like you have to let me go, handsome.
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And oh shit x2 when he realizes he has to pry Noriko from out of his grip. He rolls forward a little, trying to put some space between the two of them so he can remove his suction cups, one at a time, so that he won't hurt her. There are red circles left behind on her skin, but hopefully they won't linger for long. After she's been removed from his cups, he lets go of the rest of his tentacles, and he has to pull his gold tentacle all the way out of himself (with a little moan when he does so) in order to unfold it from around her hips.
He doesn't want to get up, though, because if he does, he's going to make the mess he made even worse. Instead, he chooses to hide his face in his pillow in hopes that it might obscure the bright redness on his face.]
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I'll be right back. [Wow she feels really bad about this, even though the shitty timing isn't exactly her fault.
Still, once she's found her towel again Nariko wraps it around herself before she answers the door. She gets the bags, signs whatever is needed, gives the kid a nice enough tip and then promptly shuts the door. Usually she might be a little more polite but, frankly, that curious stare gets boring after, like, three seconds.]
Hey.
[His couch is really damn big so she kind of has to climb a little to look over the back of it at him.]
That was a little awkward.
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Hi.
[He sits up a little bit to look at her better.]
What...what are we gonna do now?
[He's never had to suffer blue balls before, and he's not really interested in finding out what it's like. But if they wait too long...the food will get cold.]
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Still want to have sex?
[Because she certainly does, it's not right to leave the guy hanging like that unless it's completely unavoidable. But considering that no one died it all hinges on how willing Boxer is! There's pretty much nothing to keep her from getting right back to it.]
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Well. She's carrying damning evidence of it all.]
Yeah. Uh...
[He gestures vaguely to the kitchen.]
Would you mind putting it all in the oven? [Is there space for it in there?] Put it on low and hope for the best.
[Neither of them deserve to eat cold ribs after all of this.]
And maybe bring back a few paper towels...
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What's wrong?
[One little section gets ripped away to dab at her midsection, but otherwise she offers the other half to his. His couch is going to need a little cleaning, will wiping it up do the job?]
I mean, it was a little surprising, being interrupted like that ... [But it was something else. She'd ignored her instincts with him earlier, she wouldn't do it twice.]
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The red returns to his face when she brings attention to her own mess, but instead of wasting time trying to hide his shame, he goes ahead and tries to clean up as much of his mess as possible.]
After warning you about how badly it stains, I go and douse you with it...and I put you in harm's way, latching on with those suckers...
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The end of chapter 1??