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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[Having her fingers in his hair feels nice. Really nice. Not many people take the opportunity.]
But it was a doorbell, Nariko.
[A doorbell made him ink! Which...honestly, probably just attests to how excited his general state was at the time. Still kinda is.
Still kinda letting out precum like a hose.]
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And I've fallen out of my bed while masturbating because my phone rang!
[Which, at the time, had felt kind of - maybe 'sad' is the word, but now she can grin about it.]
You're fine, handsome. [She leans in to kiss his cheek.] If that's the worst you ever do you'll be the gentlest person I've ever met in my life.
[Gentle with her, anyway.]
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Unexpected words from a woman who took almost all of my tentacles inside of her at once.
[He grins and chases that kiss down to give her one of his own, finishing off wiping off the excess...everything.]
So how do you want to pick back up?
[Something new, or resume what they were at before?]
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[Hell, even then he was much more careful and gentle with her than some of her other partners! Not Christian, because that idiot treated her like she was hand spun glass, but that didn't count anyway. She lets him get that kiss in and certainly returns it.]
I mean, I was looking forward to seeing you come.
[So she's sort of going for the latter, it's almost like an incomplete image and she wants to finish it up.]
Besides, I like your close contact hugs. [That's what she's calling it, man.]
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[He shifts back into position on his belly. Instead of holding two tentacles out of the way, he fans all of them out--there's that sense of exposure again, plus the sensation of cold air against his inked skin--but it really is a brilliant display, what with the entire length of his golden tentacle lazily draped all along the couch surface, sitting in a pool of its own precum.
Boxer lets out a small laugh.]
Is that what you're calling it, now?
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Yep! I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I always worried it might feel weird but it's nice! Like a dozen 'hey, you're nice's all at once!
[She has to work herself through that network of limbs, but something occurs to her as she joins him on the couch again. Despite the temptation she ignores his cock, and instead leans forward to spread her hands out on his back. Sure, they could get right back to it but how could a little detour hurt? She braces her knees into the couch as she massages along his back, a little carefully but she puts a good amount of strength in her hands - she knows what she's doing.]
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[Seriously, man! Those things can kill people! And she's sitting there like "ooh, it's like a thousand tiny hugs!" Nariko, you're just begging to be teased with a mentality like that.]
A-ah...
[He was not expecting a massage! Though Boxer has more than enough muscle, he's a far cry from a bodybuilder, so there's a nice layer of fat that makes his skin warm and soft...and there's plenty to address, because it feels like he holds his stress in his lower back.
His tentacles slowly descend from where they're being held, as if he was trying to keep them held up but is slowly losing the strength to do it with the relief that she's giving him. They form a relaxed blanket all around her and her front.]
Mm...
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You know, I get the feeling that you relax about as often as I do.
[Her hands go up, and then come back down in a known rhythm, when she catches the tension in his back she focuses there, actively working out the kinks in one moment only to lighten up on him, shift to his sides and a little lower, and then she goes back to it again. If nothing else he's relaxing the way she had been aiming for, and those responses are appreciated, too.]
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[Yep. That's his excuse.
He's totally limp for her, content to let her address his problem areas to the best of her abilities. Motionless, eyes closed, just the steady heave of his chest as he breathes, stubborn muscles fighting against her to retain their tautness until finally submitting to her fingers.]
You really do know how to massage...
[He's run into plenty of people who said they could, only to have rough hands and jabbing fingers. Forceful rubbing does not a massage make. There's a science to it, damn it.
But there's one piece of him that seems to have a mind of its own, and you can probably guess which. It slithers along her leg, up her calf, a half-hearted attempt to ease some of the pressure. She'd better make it behave before it finds something to bury itself in.]
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[That last part is just for humors sake.] It seems like you could stand to have regular massages, and I'm pretty sure we can schedule something.
[There's something nice about being able to touch people, knowing that it could be entirely affectionate or lustful depending on the situation. She's a tactile person at heart, so anything that lets her give is weirdly relaxing on her end. When the gold buddy decides to start slinking around she looks down before shifting to just one hand.
It's a little less effective but she just needs a moment to get a hold of his wandering cock. The only pressure it needs to relieve is Boxer's so she helps the tip find its way back to his opening.]
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You made out with your girlfriends?
[Oh, God, as soon as he leaves his mouth, he wants to slap himself. How one-track minded. How stereotypical. How sexist. How...eughugh. Disgruntled, he faces forward again.]
Don't...answer that.
[Unless she actually wants to.]
Sounds great, but...how am I meant to repay the favor?
[Ah, and there--there it is. Guided back into his entrance, he doesn't waste any time into slowly slither in deeper and deeper, inches disappearing underneath Noriko by the passing seconds.]
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What, you don't want to hear any bad sex stories?
[Most guys are like that, so she's not quite understanding that he's beating himself up about it. Both hands go back to his skin, though, continuing to work out the few remaining knots while he essentially fucks himself.
And as far as returning the favor? Well, there's a number of possibilities but that's not the point here! He doesn't have to worry about 'repaying'. Sometimes people just do lovely things for each other, and that can be the thing she gives him.]
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[The rabbit hole keeps getting deeper, and he keeps falling in. Hopefully he's not digging one of his own in the process.]
Mmh...Narikoooo...
[Just because it's his own dick and he can feel its entirety, that doesn't mean his head isn't preoccupying itself with the mental image of Nariko fucking him with her own big dick.]
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Embarrassing, at least. [She just hasn't told him the bad nor embarrassing parts! Context is everything, after all. But while his imagination turns its wheels Nariko gets a hold of his hips - or the approximation of them - and pulls him back a little, mostly to help with the general idea, here.]
I mean, I wasn't always full of this endearing confidence! The very first time I bent Serenity over we didn't know what we were doing, it was very clumsy, very ... well, we were eighteen, then, so ... 'Girlish', is a word for it.
[Exactly how much of this is he going to eat up?]
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Oh, God...
[His mental image goes from her fucking him to fucking some nondescript woman who has a similar figure to Nariko's, except with strawberry blonde hair and bright red lipstick. Sloppy, groping handwork and embarrassed giggling. A relieved sigh when just the right thing happens. His back arches upward into her hand while he works the now very girthy thickness of his dick inside himself.
He's eating it all up and asking for seconds.]
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While he's unintentionally off base there, he's got the hair color right! Serenity was in fact blonde with irritatingly perfect, gently pale skin, all soft curves and demure expressions. It's not even vaguely surprising that he's into it, and maybe it should bother her to twist the truth like this but what counts for her is that she's helping him get there somehow.
Besides, she'll tell him the truth eventually! Just not right this second.] There's really something to be said for wanting it, though. She was so cute and nervous, but the second I could make her moan it was like I could believe in Heaven. So I fucked her as hard as I could, hardly graceful, just needy and delirious, shaking all over, so wet that I made a mess of my thighs and the sheets.
[Her voice has dropped to some low purr.] But you know what that's like, don't you? When you can make a girl buck and moan, the way they can just fall apart for you, unable to do anything but beg for more. [She's massaging again, slow and steady.] And all you want to do is keep giving until there's nothing left in you.
[She bends down to kiss at his skin.] That's what I did, until she couldn't even say my name anymore, her voice was so hoarse.
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Boxer groans, lowly, under her monologuing so he can still hear it. What he'd do to watch something like that...maybe even have the chance to roll around in that mess on the sheets, and--now she's talking to him. Yes, yes--Nariko gets it. It's not just the visceral pleasure, it's the journey you make someone else take.
Don't let something tiny like the truth get in the way of a good story.
There's a slight heave under her. Ah, how disappointing...he's run out of length.]
N-Nariko, look...I'm all the way in...
[Just in case she wanted to see what it looks like, flesh distended widely both where his dick comes out and, similarly, when it goes back in. All fifteen feet of tentacle, buried deep inside of him.]
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When he draws her attention she moves back a bit to get a good look and ...] Holy shit.
[It's said with complete awe because she's really never seen anyone take so much at once and it's impressive, strangely beautiful, and kind of endearing all at once. That it's Boxer just makes it that much more enticing, though she wouldn't be able to put exact words to the why of that.]
Can I ... [He was really worried about accidentally hurting her with his suckers so this is ... Maybe not the smartest idea? But she's gonna go for it anyway.] I'm gonna try something.
[So don't freak out, Boxer! Nariko lets go of him to shift back and sort of curl herself under the watchful suckers, holding them up a bit so that she can lave her tongue along the edge of where his cock and his entrance meet.]
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[He's so out of it that he only recognizes that Nariko has said something to him, but he's too unfocused to realize what it is. When she finally touches her tongue against his exceptionally sensitized setup, he lets out a surprised squeak but ultimately puts up no complaints, because--suckers aside, which he's not really thinking about--it. Feels. Amazing.
Soon he giggles--lowly, lustfully, amusedly--because (of all times) he's reminded of how people will serve ink with their spaghetti. Given that long, golden tentacle is covered in its own ink, Nariko might as well be indulging in her own personalized plate of pasta negra.
Even though she can't see it from the outside, his tentacle is squirming intently inside of him, the only hint of activity being that what little of his tentacle that is outside is wiggling under the force of it all. He's giving no mercy to his prostate and testicles this time, mostly because he genuinely needs it, but partly because Nariko has wound him up so tightly that he really has no self-restraint anymore.
His orgasm is quiet, but unmistakable. His back arches upward like a cat, eyes tightly shut and his hands gripping the pillow as he lets out a series of quiet, strained grunts as he fills himself with cum.]
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And she doesn't let up until the last few seconds of his orgasm, focused on holding him up a bit so he doesn't accidentally, y'know, smother her in kraken limbs! When he seems to be finished she wiggles back out to sit up on her knees again.] Much better.
[It had really bothered her that he didn't get to come before! Now he has, and everything in the universe has been made better, as a result.
She goes ahead and sort of drags herself over his back a little bit, mostly trusting that he can hold her weight somewhat comfortably. If it helps any, she lays kisses along his spine and sides. ... Her tongue is probably black.]
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Now that the turgidity in his cock is diminishing, he slowly pulls it out of himself, but he doesn't pull it back into hiding just yet, since most of him deserves a little bit of a rinse at least.
After giving himself a few minutes to regain his breath, enjoying the warmth of Nariko's body on top of him, and the aftershocks are finally abating, he turns his neck to look over his shoulder at her, a lazy, satisfied, small smile on his face.]
Hey...lemme see your tongue.
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Oh, geez. But there's no reason not to, she didn't do anything wrong. So she sticks her tongue out for a good few seconds, long enough for him to see that the majority of it is coated black, before she laughs, more at herself than anything else.]
I haven't seen it yet, but I'm gonna say it looks good.
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I was gonna say--no way in hell is your 'exploding pen' story going to hold water now.
So.
[He brings in another inhale. Get ready for another wave, Nariko!]
You ready to eat a ton of food and pass out? ['Cause he sure is!]
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Absolutely! Lemme go get it!
[Apparently she found a wellspring of energy for the sake of their dinner and when she goes to get it ... It's not that bad at all! The oven's kept it all pleasantly heated, not to the extent it was on arrival but good enough that it won't be any less delicious, either.
It'd be nice to say that she gets it all out and arranged and they still manage to talk but ... The second they're all set and done she's digging right into it.]
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Boxer, despite his giant appetite, eats no faster than a regular human with decent table manners. Which is to say that Nariko will finish much sooner than he does, but he eats a lot like he has sex: slowly, considerately, and savoring every moment of it.]
Mmh.
[Nothin' like good barbeque.]
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The end of chapter 1??