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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"Then goooooooo," he mouths slowly, looking exhausted. "I just want to get back to sleep." He tries to pantomime resting his head on a pillow made of two hands, but he only has one to work with. Hopefully the message gets across anyway.
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And maybe he'll like her more for it. Plus, there's the reveal.
Casually, she steps to the side and starts climbing the front ladder on the tank. She can meet him up on the ramp, so he can be as submerged as he needs to be. Once she climbs up, she glances down into the water and grins as she starts removing her clothing one article at a time. She'd worn simple clothes today, since she had no need to go out, so it only takes her a moment to strip down to just her red undergarments.
When he looks, he'll note the metallic scales covering over her hands and feet, covering a substantial amount of skin up to her elbows and knees. Various scales cover parts of her body, and surround the base and length of her slender tail. She hasn't pulled her hair aside enough to show her horns but he'll certainly see them soon enough. Her last surprise he'll find in due time, but she's tucked it away so well that there isn't even a single hint of it visible.
"You need a hand." She offers, simply.
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Dragonkin.
He sighs--which really manifests only as a flaring siphon. Things make a lot more sense now. It's harder to hold her actions against her when it's just in her blood, just like his attachment to the open water.
Boxer reaches out of the water and takes a hold of the edge of the ramp rail so he can lift his head out of the water. With a forced exhale, water flows from his mouth and nostrils--not the most graceful transition from breathing water to breathing air, but it's part of the business.
"Why didn't you tell me soone--" he's interrupted by a groan of pain, and he slowly sinks back down into the water, his face contorted in pain.
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"What fun would there be in that?" She answers him after a few moments. "You earned the discovery, and my trust."
She turns to the side for a moment, grabbing some of the pain medication that the vet had left for him and picking out exactly how many he would need to take. When she turns back, she slips a hand under the water to offer him the medicine. If he's in pain again, he needs it.
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He really wants to entertain conversation with her about this, but it really won't be a pleasant thing to sit through on his end. He'll have to save his thoughts until later.
Boxer glances curiously at her offered medication. They look more like antibiotics, given their size and color, but he still feels like his last round is still kicking. Glancing at the clock near the TV, he realizes that the offer is only a few minutes early. Might as well go for it.
He leans his face directly into her hand, instead of taking them into his own. He tilts his head back to swallow them down. As for the original problem, however...well, he's usually so good at coming up with ideas, but right now...not a whole lot is coming to him. To the best of his ability, he floats to the top of his tank, having to hold onto the tank edge to keep his balance. But like this, Sybil has access to all the tentacles she'd want.
Or what's left of them, anyway.
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Meanwhile, the hand-eating is one thing. But the casual, lazy, medicine-addled resting float at the top of the tank is another. He's particularly out of it, sure, but she saw what he intended to do. Gold tentacle, gold tentacle...
Idly, she reaches a hand out to run over the nearest tentacle. The smooth surface is... unique, to say the least, under her hand. No doubt her own metallic scales are an experience for him as well.
"You look like you need something." She teases, curious if he'll offer the gold to her or if he can. Perhaps she'll have to hunt for it. "I can help, if you want."
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His suckers intentionally latch to her interestingly-textured skin, and honestly they'd be enough to be a tactile distraction alone. But sitting here and exploring her scales by touch alone won't deal with his problem. For what it's worth, though, it feels like he genuinely means to hold on to her, as if holding her hand without getting in her way.
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"Quite the color." she remarks simply before slowly wrapping her fingers around it... Or at least trying to, her hand probably isn't big enough for the girth of it.
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She could get her hand around it if she went far enough down the tapered shape, but even then it'd be hard to get a proper grip on it since it's so slimy. That doesn't mean that it doesn't try to reach up into her touch, even as weakly as the attempt is once it rises above the water.
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She doesn't move her hand that far down, instead she contents herself with rubbing what she can reach. She presses back against it as it squirms beneath her palm and fingers, and she casually pushes it back into the water when it slides out. She intends to do as much of this below the water as she can... Even if it means she's leaning in closer and closer to the surface. Inevitably she'll end up laying down on the ramp at some point, just so she can reach.
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Do you have some sort of plan, Sybil?
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She sure didn't.
But to test a theory, she gives the golden length an experimental squeeze. Not too much, but enough to see the reaction.
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In the end, most of his upper body and the first three feet of his tentacles are comfortably resting on the surface of the ramp. He lets out an obviously comforted sigh, then reaches out of the water with his hand to beckon Sybil closer.
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When he beckons her closer, the grin returns to her features and she moves over to be beside him. She pays little mind to the water, not caring much at all if it gets her remaining clothing soaked. It's not like he'll notice anything unless he takes anything off of her.
But she's focused on him again, her hands setting on his tentacles once more. At first, only gentle rubs along the ones closest to her... but it's clear she's after the gold one, and the moment she spots it she gives it another squeeze before rubbing over it.
"I hope you'll guide me along." She comments. "You're new to me."
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But he can feel her body heat in the water, and it's honestly very soothing. She can do what she wants with his gold tentacle, but the others languidly wrap around whatever part of her they can touch, clinging to her as if she were an anchor and pulling her in closer. The gold one in particular lifts out of the water to wrap itself around the back of her neck like a feather boa.
How fashionable!
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But when he starts wrapping around her, she rubs a few more times and then just grins at him. The feeling was really close and really... intimate. She's curious what he's thinking about, and idly runs her free hand along one of his closest tentacles.
"Having fun?"
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In an unexpected assertive shove, he pulls her in so that she'll be laying on his chest, wading in the shallow water. He holds his hand against the back of her shoulder, and while the other tentacles stay put and wrapped around various parts of her, the gold tentacle squirms and worms all over her body, exploring those curious parts of hers she always keeps hidden, the tip of it leaving an abundant trail of clear precum. After a while, it decides to tangle around her tail, careful of her spikes.
By touch alone he finds the hole cut out of her panties for her tail, and he plucks at it with the tip of his tentacle-penis, quickly making a sticky mess of them before slipping in, through the hole at the base of her tail, and trying to bury itself between her ass cheeks.
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Of course, she knows that he'll be feeling around. She welcomes the touch, welcomes the exploration, and is all too eager to see how he reacts when he finds the surprise she still has.
What she doesn't expect, though, is the sticky mess he leaves over her skin with that tentacle of his. When it starts writhing around and, after a moment or two, succeeds in slipping under her panties and between her ass cheeks she gives another little laugh. The tip of his tentacle rubs against the hidden tip of her own member, enough to send a slight flush over her cheeks.
It wouldn't be long before it would come free. The tape over it was designed for everyday wear, movement and maybe some sweat. It wasn't designed to hold up to tentacles or precum or... really any erotic activity of any kind. Oh well, guess it was time for him to find out.
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It's inevitable that he'd want to explore things, expected or not, and his tentacles are very tactile. Needless to say, as soon as he finds her tip, he's instantly investigating it to figure out what he's run across. After slathering his precum all over her and rubbing around to inquire, the tape comes off and he can wrap around her flaccid length.
Under the water, he lazily grins. Ah, so that's why her dresses are so big. She has so many secrets to hide. He wasn't planning on working with something like this, but if she's big enough when hard...this erection problem will get solved a lot faster than he expected.
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She's not particularly long, but with the attention of his tentacle that's rapidly changing. She hums to herself, letting her legs slip further apart as she goes from flaccid to hard slowly. Almost agonizingly slowly, honestly, but it's quite the show as it rises up and doubles in size. Grower, not a shower, as they say.
"Surprised?" She still has some of the amused hum in her voice when she speaks. It's all so very pleasing that he's not put off by what he's found, especially when he could never have known any of it.
She idly reaches a hand out under the water, playfully poking out at his nose with a smile.
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Later.
Boxer tries to wave her offending poking finger with his missing arm, obviously missing. His tentacles release their grip on her extremities, including the gold one, instead using them to help to turn himself over so that he lays on his stomach, exposing his expansive back to her. Though it's not likely to be gathering as much attention as he really pulls back his tentacles and the membranes between them, exposing the underside beneath. The lines of thick suckers all lead to a central point, of which the gold tentacle stems out of, looking as if its girth distends the neighboring flesh as if it were a tight fit.
The thickest part of his penis wraps around her midsection a few times, before sliding between her ass and wrapping around her dick from behind. Like this, he can guide her erection directly at his dangerously slick cloaca.
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Not that she's complaining, of course, she's been denied her little bit of playfulness for now... in exchange for better things, far better things. She gets a good look at nothing but tentacles for a few long moments as he adjusts, but then when he fully reveals himself? Well.
Well.
Things had taken a turn that she wasn't expecting, once again. She grips some of his tentacles so she has some control of her own as he pulls her closer. He's going to take what he wants, but that doesn't mean she won't get in some good movements herself. She gives her length a twitch in the grasp of his tentacle, but doesn't make any moves just yet. Not until he's helped her slip inside.
Maybe he'll need a moment to stretch, after all. But she'll only give him a moment once she slips in before she jerks her hips and gives a thrust into him.
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Once she's nice and buried inside of him, he lets go of his grip around her dick, and two tentacles come in to latch their suckers onto her ass and spread her cheeks, allowing ample space to bring in the tip of his penis to smear that abundant precum on her entrance and start to needle his way in.
Ever been fucked while fucking, Sybil?
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"Just look at you, all needy for me." She lets out a little laugh. "I'm glad you like me after all. You should savor..."
She presses herself back, against his teasing dick. If he's going to tease, she can too. She may be a little more limited with how she's being held but she's still got enough movement for this. The moment she feels his tip start to slide in, though, she suddenly forces her hips forward again to bury herself inside of him again.
"...the experience!" She finally finishes, eager to make what she can of the control she has at the moment. Once he's inside of her, she knows she'll have much less freedom to move. But the limited time isn't going to stop her for now.
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With her thrusts, he inches deeper, getting thicker by the second at a deliciously slow pace and expanding her ass with ease.
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man i need to think about that, i'm so glad you catch the little details; sorry i miss them
it's ok i love you anyway <3
scre
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if you're still up for this thread!
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