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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But then his mouth settles over her dick again and, well... that's about it. He wanted another delicious load and he's certainly going to milk her for all she's got. Almost immediately she orgasms again and fills his mouth, desperately gasping for breath as her whole body twitches and spasms in his grasp.
Way to go, Boxer.
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By the time she's drained, he starts to fill her up. His tentacle pulses as huge globs of cum pulse through it, like an undone hose more than a spurt. Within seconds, her belly starts to balloon out with the sheer mass of it all, and it doesn't seem like it's going to stop any time soon--but still he keeps her dick in his mouth, trying to suck out every last drop.
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But then he finally comes, and the amount he fills her with puts her own climax to shame. She feels the hot, viscous cum filling every single space inside of her... and even more. There's so much that it stretches out every single bit inside of her, and there is a warmth from not only its temperature but from the feeling of being used so thoroughly. Honestly she's certain every single inch of space inside of her is going to be full of his spunk if he keeps it up.
"Oh god." she manages out, shivering in his grasp as her body is forced to take every drop he has to give.
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From out of the water, Boxer reaches out with a wet hand and places it on her extremely swollen belly, giving it affectionate and approving strokes as he sucks on her limp dick some more.
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"I... god... Oh my... you..." Is about all she gets out, she's going to need time to regain some form of coherency if he expects anything out of her. If not, he could easily keep her in post orgasmic bliss for as long as he wanted. Maybe even bring her to a third climax, honestly, it's not like her cock ever stays soft for long.
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He takes the tentacle that was holding her leg earlier and rubs it against the lips of her cunt, giving her a little pleasurable announcement that he's going to start pushing it in there. It's a slow, gentle approach, because there's nothing but a ton of pressure coming from inside her which will inevitably make even the thinnest part of his tentacle feel huge as it slowly slides inside of her, sucker side running along where her dick meets her cunt. He continues his gentle massage of her belly the entire time.
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"That's... t... too much..." She says it, but trails off into a moan when the tentacle slips into her. "Oh... Oh god.." she manages out, her body shivering visibly in his grasp as she feels herself stretching wider and wider around him. He'd picked the right direction for those suckers, because her length is suddenly rock hard again and in need of the attention he'd offered before. She's at his mercy, she knows it... and he knows it. He could do anything he wanted to her, and she'd love it.
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She has no illusions about how big he's made her, how much of his spunk he's filled her with. She knows all too well, and his constant movements remind her of it without fail. When he turns his attention back to her cock, she can't stop a deep moan from slipping out. Her own tongue falls free of her mouth as she gasps and pants. Gods. He hasn't let her rest, and every touch he makes is electric, there isn't a single part of her that isn't overstimulated from all of this. To make it worse, she can feel her muscles tensing and clenching again, her cunt desperately squeezing at his tentacle as she starts building up to yet another climax. Now after the first two, the rest are like dominoes.
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God. This whole thing has made him feel a lot better, too. Or maybe it's just the pain meds he ate from her hand.
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For now, his gentle movements and squirming all around inside of her are far, far too much for her to take as her whole body squirms and struggles against him while she comes a third time. She goes tense for several moments as her cock pulses, and then she falls limp, giving in to whatever he wants to do to her. Her muscles stay twitching and shivering, her whole body settling into an over-sensitized state. She can't focus on anything, save for the orgasms he's milking out of her. If he wanted to milk her dry, he'd have no difficulty now. If he wanted her to come back to her senses, he could stop, but really that was up to him now.
Meanwhile all she manages out between panted breaths is a long, trailing 'Oohhh my... god....'
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It means two things: one, Boxer will now have a really efficient healing session now that he's hopped up on meds and rubbed out his anxieties, and two, Sybil now has ample time to experiment and play around with her newfound...buoyancy.
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Time, though, is something she's happy she has here and now. Because when he pulls free of her, her body doesn't immediately recover from the ordeal. To say that she's messy is a massive understatement. Every bit of her skin is coated at least a little and her thighs are even more of a mess. She floats freely in the water until enough of her senses come back, and she slowly pulls herself back to the ramp. Even as her body does its best to recover, the large swell of her belly is a tell-tale sign of how full she was earlier. She'll be a mess for the next few hours as his spunk finishes draining drom her, but she's not going to complain honestly.
When he wakes up again, he'll find her sprawled out naked, reclined against several cushions. Most important to notice is the bit of plastic below her thighs and the carefully placed glass which is about half full of spunk. Plus, of course, the four other full glasses off to the side. She's keeping them for some reason or purpose, and from the much smaller roundness of her belly it's clear she's almost done this time.
Hopefully he's proud of himself.
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He wakes up several hours later. He's had such an effective sleep that he's actually grown about a half inch on his missing limbs, which sounds impressive until you compare it to his size at large.
He sits up, drowsily, quickly realizing that what brought him awake was his empty stomach. It takes him a minute to get his bearings, and eventually settles on staring at Sybil through the glass in a half-asleep stare, slowly taking in what's going on with her.
Oh, God.
He wrecked her, didn't he? And he didn't even ask for permission, and now she's--having to spend her time draining it all out when she probably has a bunch of stuff to work on!!
He actually feels terrible, and it's clear even though he splays his hand over his face in wide-eyed shame.
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Which was why she'd decided to stay in the same room, reclined on the couch so she could keep an eye on him while he rested. It was easy enough to get work done, and even easier to cite being under the weather as cause to not leave her home. She rarely took time to herself, so her disappearance would inevitably cause gossip... though she'd have to deal with the rumor mill later regarding the timing of her "illness" so soon after a total destruction of a pirate gang.
Oh well. Sacrifices had to be made to get what you wanted, didn't they?
She notices his movement and that little pose he takes up. There's no way it could mean what she thinks it means, so she dances around the issue. She does, however, decide to get up and stride over to the side of the tank. Hopefully he won't mind that she's practically naked, the only bit of clothing on her body is a near-transparent nightgown that ends quite a bit too short. It's the sort of lingerie meant to tease by covering almost nothing, and also the only thing she can wear that wouldn't get stained while she waited for him to wake up.
"What, don't tell me you had a bad dream after all of that." She muses aloud, locking her eyes on his. "After all, you made sure I'm going to have great dreams for months to come. You should, too."
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Huh.
Her dick is really cute when it's flaccid.
It's hard to use sign when you only have one and a half arms, but not impossible. He just uses his tentacle to supplement if he really needs to.
Are you okay?
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But for now he's asked a question, and she answers back in two ways. She gives him a deadpan look as she motions at her body before signing simply "yes". Then she speaks again, she knows he can hear her. Though she'll come up and in if needed.
"Is there something that would've made me not okay?" She shrugs, pausing before letting a grin come across her face as she adds: "You're going to have to try harder next time. You weren't nearly rough enough for me to be in any danger you know."
Then she shakes her head. "Unless that was all you had to offer."
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Sorry, Sybil. If you're going to make him think you know sign, he's going to use slang. With a tentacle. It's hard mode time, baby.
Don't brush off my concern. I've seriously hurt people doing far less than that.
God...what's the point. Lazily, he signs Nevermind, before laying back down in the bottom of his tank.When did Sybil ever care about his concerns? Like, really care, in a way that wasn't just weaving contract agreements?
--So hungry. Where's his caretaker? She should be showing up with food soon...
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"Okay, less teasing." She pauses, before adding. "I apologize."
But more importantly was that last bit. She gives a second that seems like it's for his benefit, but really she's trying to pick her words here. "Would you trust if I said I would stop you from going too far?" She considers it for a moment. "Its easy for me to tease when I'm tough, but I had a good time."
Also that caretaker he's after? She's arriving now with that food, pretty much exactly on schedule. Convenient!
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Boxer heaves out what looks like a sigh, even though it works a little differently than if he was breathing air.
Without hurting either one of us? He throws out some signs that don't translate to anything cohesive, until: I'm okay most of the time, but I don't know what I'll do when I'm on drugs.
man i need to think about that, i'm so glad you catch the little details; sorry i miss them
She gets where he's coming from. He's a big scary sea monster, she's a big scary dragon, they're both big scary beasts who could do a lot of damage. She contemplates his signs for a few moments afterward, amused that he straight up said he was on drugs rather than being more creative and saying he wasn't in a normal state of mind. She'd have to inquire about his language choices later, she wasn't as familiar with sign as she'd like and... honestly? She barely got the chance to use it with anyone, so most of her knowledge was book knowledge anyway. Not perfect.
Now with her robe around her and herself a little more presentable, though certainly not presentable enough for the public eye, she moves closer to the glass and grins.
"We could always wrestle." She says it with such amusement. "To get an idea of our strengths and how we may stop each other."
She's at a disadvantage because she has less limbs, but with her strength maybe they might be closer to an even match than she thinks. Against his hometown advantage in the water though, she's not confident she can stop him. But the only way to know would be to try.
it's ok i love you anyway <3
A fine idea in theory, but I won't be well enough to do something like that for a while.
The implication being that there's probably something else that needs to be done to quell his concerns if she's planning to take advantage of his libido again any time soon.
scre
At his words, she gives a little nod. He was right, after all. He was also right about seeing through her intentions. Even if it was only 1% of her total plans, she still planned on putting that libido of his to the test, it would be lying to deny she had it in mind. Though the percentage was certainly above 1%, honestly.
"You will, sooner than you know, but for now..." She eyes his lunch as it gets lifted up, heading towards its final destination. If she's being honest, she'd like to hear from him. "What can I do, for you, to put you at ease?"
See? Now who said dragons were totally selfish? Gosh.
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His caretaker says that she'll be back to check on him later after her rounds with everyone else. Boxer is subtly watching her and waiting for her to leave so he can pause between fish so he can sign at Sybil.
If I didn't hurt you earlier, I probably won't while I'm like this.
Chances are, anyway. The worst he could do is to rend flesh with his suckers, and as long as she doesn't try to escape or try to fight his holds, there's no risk of that.
if you're still up for this thread!
She considers signing back to him, but she hasn't had the practice to be anything near smooth. She's more articulate with her words, so she prefers them. But maybe with all the time they're going to spend together, he could change that? She wants to work on trust, and proving she wants to help, so she decides to try to sign at him.
You'll be strong again later. I'm tough, and so are you.
It's not the prettiest, but at least she gets her message across. She doesn't fumble any vocabulary, but she could do with some fluidity practice. Time to add some honesty, too, to this whole situation. She wants him more comfortable, and more open. Why would he be open if she wasn't? It's rare she gets to be so honest, though, so it's a foreign feeling.
Having you model here for me wasn't the only reason I was interested in you.
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