yanderebitchclub | 1 | i don't fuck WITH monsters i just fuck 'em

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1 | i don't fuck WITH monsters i just fuck 'em

It’s 📆 COCKtober 🍆🎃 u know 😦what😦 that 😏means😏 👀👅

y'all know what to do, just post a toplevel, be as detailed with your monster descriptions as you like and tag around.

we all boning monsters here anyway so no shaming, ofc. go make some money and worry about yourself.

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[ papa would love his turn, but his tentacle still smarts (hurts more, when it retreats beneath him to hide in the saltwater, curling tighter and tighter), and... mm, well, papa would love his turn, and mama is more than accommodating, now. he nibbles eichi's neck gently, grip softening the longer his hurt limb stays in the water and grows numb with pain.

mm, well. ]

Mama is so willing now, hm? ♪ Was he just hungry the last time we played? [ no wataru you sprung surprise cannibalism on him— well, he knows that much. he does, and he remembers that eichi said angels "destabilize" when they're bitten, and that isn't a pleasant word... wataru presses his tentacles further into eichi, eyes closed. ] Are you going to "destabilize" if I do so, Mama?

[ a beat, and he kisses his neck, to his ear. ]

...Can you handle it, Eichi?

( ah, mmhh, he trembles a little, shifting to press them deeper into him needily, both out of excess lust and a need for heat to keep himself from growing chill in the water. )

Mmh, I can, I can— ( it's hard to tell if he's just saying that, though, out of wanting. he swallows, running his tongue around his bloody lips, his breathing uneven. ) They did... things to me, while fixing me up. So you could...

( he trails off before he can finish that, but his intent is probably clear. it'd all been a miserable experience, really, given they had to wreck him a little every time they modified him to see if the regeneration aspect were working.

as far as eichi's aware, last they tested, they determined it was fairly functional. he'd been reluctant to try it out carelessly until he could test out the limitations of it, were there any, himself, but . . . at the moment, he can't say he cares all that much. his fingers curl into wataru's hair, pulling at it. )

Mm, Wataru, Wataru, please . . .

[ ah, mmhh. if it's what mama wants, then he should really play nice and let him have it... wataru teases him though, with little sharp bites, little tears along his skin instead of simply tearing into him. it wets his own appetite too, more conscious of it, focusing on being aware so he doesn't steal too much warmth—as eichi said for him not to—but just that much more slow. ]

"Please" what, Mama? ♥ Can you tell Papa what you want? Does the child want it too, Mama? Mmm~?

( little pained gasps cut off his breathing with every particularly sharp bite, hurt and pleasure crossing wires in his head again, all much less unpleasant now that he'd been anticipating it.

he makes a low sound, still lyrical despite the displeasure it expresses, when wataru asks for specifics. )

The child says— Papa is a bully.

( a bully!! terrible!! he rolls his head back this time and lets it expose his throat, favoring the shoulder opposite of the side wataru favors. he could feel his warmth ooze with his blood from the little wounds, and he shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but the more wataru denies him the more he can't help but lower his standards, bit by bit. )

Mama wants . . . Mmh— Mama wants Papa to eat him; the way— Mama ate him . . . The way he did it last time. Eat as much as he likes, down to the bone, until he can't eat anymore, and then...

( he swallows, running his tongue along his teeth, wataru's bland taste turning sweeter in the memory of it the longer eichi misses it. )

. . . And then, if Mama's too cold . . . Both Mama and the child— want you to push more warmth into him . . . okay? Mama loooves how Papa tastes in either mouth... ♡

Edited (takes this tag out back) 2019-01-21 05:23 (UTC)

Papa can't go any further in, [ wataru replies, just as lyrical, pressing his tentacles a little further to demonstrate; he half expects them to start coming out of eichi's mouth at some point. ah, is that how it works...? he has no idea what anatomy involves, this is incredibly clear.

still, he obliges a little, with a bigger bite to the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet. not deeper, just larger in circumference, staying there not unlike a leech as he slowly closes his mouth around the shallow bit of meat he's decided to take.

eichi still tastes like nothing; but he still tastes warm, melty, and wataru lets the piece melt in his mouth instead of chewing it. ]

( he's in the wrong hole if he wants to see that,

a pained sound escapes his lips as he yanks a little harder at wataru's hair, it being no less painful the second time around, his wings flaring, splashing the water, tips spread out. but, mm, a lot better when he's been worked up to it, his arousal only stuttered for a moment before he feels a heat at the pit of his belly, somewhere between his legs and where the tentacles press into him, and his body trembles faintly from the mix of sensation. )

... Mmm... ( he swallows hard, faint taste of blood growing faint in his throat. ) Is it good...? Papa?

( he knows wataru said he didn't have a particular taste, which was still disappointing, so he doesn't ask if he tastes good; only if it is good, to eat him again.

like a soft mousse bitten into, the edges of the wound seem to slick and drip softly, as if it's sense of shape. past tense, though; he doesn't seem in danger of coming undone actively, even if he seems gushy and half-formed on the inside, as if his skin were only firm enough to be a container. the blood mixes freely with the facsimile of muscle and structure.

and, if anything, it all seems very warm; warmer than last time, but a nice kind of warm . . . like a hot lava cake, perhaps. )

[ enticingly warm, strange... hmm, a little like slurping up the insides of oysters and other mussels. wataru doesn't answer at first, busy burying his face into eichi's shoulder to gather more and let it sit in his mouth, and when he does speak it leaks a little, from the edge of his lips, because no one ever told him not to talk with his mouth full, ]

You are! Satisfying, Mama...♪ I wonder if the children taste half as good, [ an idle afterthought, but one he doesn't seem very committed to; he likes the idea of little things swimming (flying?) around, it seems Fun. ] Should I give you a taste of yourself..? Mama, Mama, say "ah".

[ regardless of if eichi does, wataru's kissing him and pressing his tongue against his lips to force some warm, melty angel in him. he... does have extra limbs to help this happen too, should the kissing thing not work, but this is his preferred way. for the moment. ]

( he trembles - shivers at the feeling of wataru burying himself into his shoulder, his arm gradually feeling numb. it's less in the pins and needles way and more a sensation like sudden decay; gradually losing feeling, strength, on one side, and his grip along that arm weakens— though not severed, still.

it should alarm him more, but it's something that only some slightly more conscious part of him keeps track of at the back of his mind, the better part of him occupied by wataru's mouth on him, wataru's teeth in him, wataru saying he's satisfying, wataru

wait,

his lips part to form some kind of protest to the remark about the children, but it's a tragically-timed attempt with how wataru comes to kiss him. there's an initial, startled resistance, where he instinctively begins to pull back, but when the warmth (his own warmth) presses against his tongue from wataru's he hesitates, one part morbid curiosity and one part morbidly touched by the genuity of the gesture.

he's never tasted himself, and he doesn't know why wataru wants him to try it (should he have wataru taste a bit of himself sometime, too? ah, that seems like fun), but now that it's in his mouth he considers that he doesn't taste like other angels taste; or, maybe, your own taste tastes different to yourself? just as your voice sounds different to you.

a little voracious, he presses a kiss back against wataru - no tentacles required - tongue running along wataru's lips, their tastes mingling together in eichi's mouth . . . ah, he likes that; it doesn't make for a good taste, but he likes the thought of it, likes how it makes him feel. he doesn't understand wataru at all, but he likes all these strange things they're doing, things he'd never even thought of before they'd met. )

... Mmm... ( a hazy voice, a little warm, against wataru's lips, ) ... I think I like your taste more, Papa. But, if you eat up the children, I'll eat more of Papa than I should... ♪

( an ominous promise, but murmured flirtatiously as he begins to teeth wataru's lower lip - though eichi doesn't know himself if he's being serious. perhaps it's because he's bearing them, or likelier because of what he is, but he feels somewhat protective over the concept of the children; at least allow them to grow a little before trying to bully them, or something. )

Edited 2019-02-01 10:08 (UTC)

[ is that a true promise, he wonders, or a bluff he could call? wataru hums softly, delighted regardless, and lets eichi teeth until he's had enough of the sensation, tilting his head away and pressing kisses to his cheeks. what a strange, wonderful creature eichi is; a thought he's had a lot, a thought that refuses to disappear.

the tentacles, having until now been put on hold for proper feeding and being fed on, gradually resume their twisting and thrusting— gentle, slow, because someone didn't want to pass out, and certainly that meant from the eating but there's no harm in being careful here, too, though that "care" gets tossed out the window sooner rather than later. he's glad eichi is so accommodating (giving, he called it), in body and in mind, but rather than letting a tentacle shove something far where it shouldn't, he trails a hand into the water and snags the small bag first.

lifts it up—it really is small, sitting white and delicate in the palm of his hand, the consistency somewhat... jiggly, or at least easy to slide and move, not unlike wataru himself. ]

This is all Papa is. ♪ [ in a way, at least, genetically speaking, and, ] Mama wanted this in him again, yes?

( leaving them in for so long might make leave him a little loose, needing a little bit more time to set himself back into the positions all of the inside of him should be, but he isn't particularly concerned with that now.

a suddenly, pleased sound splits from the back of his throat, eichi shifting again to get himself into a better position to feel wataru's thrusts deep into him, his insides tightening wet around the tentacles. he could feel feeling returning to his other arm as the regeneration sets to work. it's still awkwardly limp, its fingers just barely curled into wataru's shoulder, and so eichi keeps his other arm hooked tight around wataru's to make up for it.

his attention is briefly stolen by the cute (soft and squishy, very much like wataru, which - for the moment, just reminds him of how he'd like to gnaw on him again, gnaw on this,) little bag wataru presents to him, though his haze is a little unfocused from how his mind and body are warming up from being teased inside again.

mmmh, this was, this was ... ah, right, the thing that he, )

Mmmm, I did, I did, you remembered... ♪ ( he smiles with a faint flush coloring his cheeks, as much from the kisses to his cheeks as the tentacles inside him. ) It felt good— and, Papa was so excited about the children... ♪

( altruistic as that might sound, and cute as wataru was bubbling about over the children ... he wanted wataru to remain excited - about him; about eichi. eichi was novel now, but for how long would that last...? and what would happen if wataru did lose interest? would the scientists finally do away with eichi ... would wataru move onto someone else?

eichi didn't like either outcome. if he could bear enough of wataru's children ... maybe he could keep wataru's interest a little longer. just in case. )

[ much quicker than it was revealed, it disappears again with a turn of wataru's wrist; the only hint of where it's gone is in the ripples of the water, in the loss of one tentacle from eichi.

temporary, but a loss. wataru strokes eichi's cheek idly, an affectionate gesture without any real depth to it. ]

Papa is still excited about them, even if he's not allowed to hang them. [ apparently!!!!!! still quite confusing, but well, maybe that's just how angels are. how interesting, how interesting... the tentacle clasping it teases his entrance, as much a version of edging for him as it is for eichi. ] Mmm... Mama, how much do you want it...? Tell me, Eichi. ♪

( mmm, a whine and a sort of pout as he feels himself emptier, swallowing as he tries to squeeze his legs as if to make up for the loss in him— more tightly as he trembles, the teasing sending wretched shivers of want down his spine. )

You're terrible... ♪

( said with a faint, delighted trembling, hating being teased but slightly addicted to this mounting excitement. his fingers—both hands, now—curl a little more firmly into his shoulders, turning his cheek— mouth— into wataru's palm, nipping at it lightly, mouth warm. )

Mama wants it... ♪ Mama wants it rea~lly badly... ♪ It— you, more than anything else... ♪ ( he swallows, the coiling of wataru's tentacles inside him making it hard to speak straight, his palms running running along wataru's shoulders, grasping at the crook of his neck, affectionate, possessive. ) Mmmm, if it feels good enough, may~be I'll let you hang one of the children...? But Mama has high standards... Wataru... ♪

( pleasure > motherly instincts or whatever, at present. )

[ he's terrible, but eichi seems so thrilled...♪ wataru laughs loudly, buries his face into his shoulder the same moment he, without mercy, buries his tentacle, himself, into eichi. ah, so pleasant, to be so deep, to be so sure... ]

Haven't I met those already? Or did I fall so far after our last tryst? Mmm, Eichi... [ a happy sigh, starting his... nibbling again, unable to help it, but trying to keep himself in control, his tentacles twisting and pumping in a slower, deeper way than before. a conscious effort to be gentle, still; to keep his instincts from taking over, to keep himself from just dragging eichi to the bottom of his tank now that he has him in the water...

...they still sink down a little, water colder on his heated skin—the latter pulsing in various shades of red. ]

( ah, ah, ah— a shameless sound spills from him as he curls his cheek against wataru’s hair, nails digging into wataru’s back and dragging red lines across his skin. a heat seems to ripple from his belly to the rest of him, his chest feeling so terribly hot, his limbs radiating heat against the water, causing just the faintest steam.

it was unfair— unfair, somehow, when wataru filled him with his children. did it feel as good last time, or had the scientists done something to him? it’s hard to think, hard to connect thoughts, when so much of him feels like he’s melting, and his breathing deep, like he’s desperate for air. ah, he felt so sensitive now; every sensation felt twice as much, wataru’s careful bites and gentle thrusts waves of reddish heat inside him. )

Y-You set, mmh... You set... ( he buries his face into wataru’s neck, comfortable there, a faint mmm at every nibble. ) ... the bar higher... so much higher, for yourself...

( whether that be in a good or bad way, or even more likely both, he doesn’t elaborate; he doesn’t think, just lets himself sink deeper with wataru, his skin warming as if to compensate ... but that heat, that steam, is easily overwhelmed, if wataru drags him deep enough,

faintly, eichi senses there’s something that needs his attention. less faintly, the salty scent against wataru’s neck enamored him, and in his bleary vision wataru looked ... )

... How carnivorous... ♪ ( murmured, muttered faintly, a sweet kiss to wataru’s neck as his nails dig deeper, and drag. ) Ah, pretty devilfish, you’ll melt me... ♪

( and, in his daze ... this time, he doesn’t seem to mind. )

If I melt you too much, will our children suffer? I wouldn't want that, [ he murmurs back, breath warm but no match for the heat of eichi's skin. the tentacles left free to roam curl a little away, sensitive, and he lets them sink just a bit lower to accommodate for that. ] Pretty little bird... Pretty angel. ♪ I wonder, if you melt, would you become part of my little sea? Ah, you'd be with me for~ev~er then, hm?

[ less talkative, less company, but the essence of eichi ..... no, it isn't any replacement for it, and he pulls his mouth from eichi's throat, arches up to kiss him a little, coaxes another tentacle to stop being so shy and to slide into him alongside his other. ]

...That's no good, is it~? [ not even explaining his thoughts here- ] If you get too close, pretty angel, let me know; I'll cool you off in a moment's notice...♪

( better than the sensation - nice as the sensation is - are wataru’s pretty words, pretty praise, that coil around him inside his chest, little thorns hooking in. so he receives the kiss gladly, strange as it still is, returning it with a sort of slurred exhaustion, his lips wet and soft (maybe a little more than usual), his fingers curling into wataru’s skin— gently, this time. )

Mmmh... If you worry more for the children than me— ah, I’ll get jealous... ♪

( but it’s true he really might melt; it’s all been so much, too much, that all his little faintly trembling orgasms around wataru’s tentacles seem nearly a constant stream of pleasure. but he oughtn’t melt; he shouldn’t, easy as it is to lose himself to this. ah...

greedy for all the sensation wataru can offer him, he presses his lips to wataru’s again, running his tongue along the inside of wataru’s lips, letting his teeth tug at the skin there, as if he wants to hear it off, )

... One more. ( he says, a little breathless, his eyes a lustful gaze. ) Put one more inside me, and then— and then cool me off. It feels... ( he ... nuzzles wataru’s cheek, exhaling warm. ) ... really nice... ♪

( oh how the tables table, )

[ what a difference pregnancy makes. wataru hums against his mouth, making a mental count of his tentacles and stretching eichi a little more, a little more, as he does so. it should be fine; angels are accommodating, more so when they're heated up, and he wonders if such a change would be permanent if he cooled him down too quickly with himself still inside...

an interesting appearance for sure, though doubtlessly it would eventually return to its natural (?) shape...♪ ]

What Mama wants, Mama gets. [ because this time, papa wants it, too, and it takes a moment to prepare

(and a good moment it is, to steady eichi, to widen him a little more)

but wataru presses a fourth tentacle, a piece of himself curled tightly in its tip, against his entrance; it's still a tight squeeze with how his other three writhe already within eichi and unwilling to give any space to a new arrival, but it wiggles valiantly without ever losing grip of its sac. ] I wonder what you'll look like after this, Eichi... Beautiful as ever, but how! Ah, I'm so excited, I could...

[ he nibbles at his lips, then his cheek, then jaw; his tentacle, growing impatient, simply forces its way between the other three, and wataru bites a little harder in response. a hand shakes as he lets it fall to eichi's neglected cock to stroke him there as well, going down far enough to catch the edge of his clit for just a moment before he pulls back up.

it may be a little overstimulating - for wataru it is as well, so much, so little time, trying to keep in mind this is for eichi and not just him, and so he shouldn't bite too much - but it is what it is, and when he feels the heat build he plunges the both of them into the water without warning, sinking quickly to the bottom of the pool with a shuddering sigh ]

Edited 2019-04-15 06:02 (UTC)

( it really is all too much, but it'd been what he'd asked for and what he'd wanted, and if he were coherent in the slightest he'd think the scientists must have done this to him— or was this simply how all angels would experience pregnancy?— but he isn't, and his skin, warm and growing opalescent at its sticky edges, presses waxy against him as he stretches— too much, to accommodating for how wataru runs and suckers along his dripping insides, coming once as wataru strokes his straining cock— again when he feels the second sac pushed into his womb, filling it, as wataru digs his teeth into him—

he'll regret asking wataru to cool him off, because he hadn't been picturing (or thinking at all, really) anything so dramatic. the orgasm from his cunt had spread a heat from his stomach to his chest where it burnt, his body trembling, read for collapse— so there's hardly a yelp from him before he's immediately sunk under water, and all the pleasure vanishing with the air around him.

the water around them bubbles with heat as eichi rapidly sinks in, but the deeper he drags them the cooler it gets, and the cold ocean swallows up his heat near-entirely, and for the first genuine time he looks as if he's in pain. as wataru expects, eichi grows firmer in the temperature, tightening around wataru's shape bulging his stomach— and it's a constriction that sends a shock of pleasure through him, in startling contrast with the flurry of air escaping his lips.

oddly, though, there's a flicker of sunset-crimson in him: a flame, like a candle, in his chest, the inside of him looking like a hollow wax sculpture with every attempt to light: once, twice; flickering quickly him, in time with how rapidly the air bubbles from him, his chest warming the water around it, and his wings attempting, sluggish and clumsy in the water, to beat out of some instinct, his fingers, weak and barely-moving, attempting to curl into wataru's back as if a plea. )

[ his heart, his life, perhaps? wataru doesn't mind his tightness—octopodes are built for tight places, and ah, this too, it's an interesting, exciting new feeling, for something to firm and harden so around him—but he minds, a little more, the temperature of the water, the wings stirring bubbles around them.

his heart, his life, perhaps. he pulls his teeth from eichi, not keen on getting them stuck in the mother of his children, and only pushes them back up towards the surface once he feels the bottom of his tank. it isn't so far a fall, or maybe the rise is just quicker, his lower half powerful in the water, especially with the tentacles he pulls from eichi to help in launching them upwards. he lets eichi crest the water first, eyes on his chest, glittering as he settles a hand on the flicker. ]

—You are so breathtaking, so interesting, Eichi!

[ somewhat watery, bubbling from his throat (literally). ]

( he's limp as wataru drags him upward, not yet unconscious but nearing it— though it's a little difficult dragging him up to the surface, with his wings heavy through the water.

when he does make it, though, he sputters and coughs violently, water spilling out from him— and though it seems only a trick of light at first given eichi's throat is clogged, after every cough there comes a choppy inhale, and with every inhale there's the faintest flicker in his chest. it's only when he seems to be breathing proper again, even if he isn't breathing well that there seems to be a sharp warmth in his chest, and a sudden lit flame— noticeably weak, however; much weaker than it had in the moments before it'd gone out underwater. )

—Am— Am I—?

( he doesn't know what he meant to say when he came to, but it definitely wasn't that. just. he was taken off-guard, he didn't expect praise after nearly— dying??? something?? god. he coughs again, the sharper shapes of wataru's face coming into view. bubbling, huh... )

... Mmmm... But still... If you put out my light, I don't know if I can recover from that...

( he's too tired to be upset, given everything. eichi fwumps against wataru, clinging to him tightly. affectionate, or—? )

... Wataruuu... I'm cold. Warm me up.

( sincerely said. he knows he needed to be cooled down, but the flame in his chest still seems weak, and his stomach, previously a warmer part of him, seems just as cool. granted, the rest of eichi, besides those two spots, is entirely cold— about what you'd expect from someone just dragged to the bottom of a saltwater tank. )

[ ah, how interesting, how lovely; wataru lifts his hand from it briefly, meaning to cup the area, but then eichi fwumps against him and he wraps an arm around him instead. oh, this is much different than just moments before - perhaps he cooled him too much? hmm, if he should cool him further, would he die.........?

wataru drags them both out of the water, humming something he'd heard from one of the intern's little music devices. a good question, but not one he'd liked answered so immediately, and he rolls eichi onto the sand. ah, outside would be best, right..? but then the scientists might see and take him away... hm, hmmm... ]

...How should I do that, Eichi? Tell Papa quickly.

( how...? quickly??? fortunately for wataru, dragging eichi to the sand, deadweight as eichi seems to be at the moment, does jog his thoughts a little bit. the sand is warm, even if he doesn't like how it sticks to his skin, and he likes the sound of wataru's hum. mmm... )

... Take me where it's warm... Hold me.

( he says this after a moment, drawn to the heat beneath wataru's skin, buried beneath layers of water soaked into it— the heat that comes from blood pumping in your veins and muscles shifting subtly. it's not enough, though, and he tries to gather his thoughts a little more. wataru had warmth; it was just the waterlogged skin that was the trouble. mmm...

he reaches for wataru's hand, and drags it to his mouth— letting the blunt of his teeth drag lightly along his palm, to better express what he means. )

... And then... Lend me your shoulder, if you can.

( he isn't thinking about whether wataru regenerates like him; he just recalls the warmth in wataru as eichi fed from him, and how it sat comfortable in his stomach.

eichi's shoulder, also, seems nearly recovered, though it's a little thin and ill-shapen still, like a hollow wax sculpture; it seems he'll still need a short while still to reccover. )

[ how painful; he'd forgotten it in their tumble, briefly, with his injured tentacle curled tightly up beneath him. it twitches in reminder though, and wataru hesitates, presses a hand to his shoulder and trails his fingers across it.

tentacles grow back. he knows this, but he doesn't know if anything else does

but eichi is... dying? perhaps? and that's bad - rather, if he isn't returned to warmth soon, how long will it be until he's able to see him again? hm- hm-

wataru gently pulls him back into his arms and shuffles his way out of the cave, peering out to stare at the container walls reproachfully before he makes his way out of the cool, homey structure and into the warmer, if less genuine, light. there he curls around eichi - he moves back the long strands of light blue hair plastered to his shoulder and neck, giving him better access. ]

Don't feed too quickly, Mama. You'll give yourself a tummy ache ☆ And you might alarm our voyeurs as well...♪

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