#tentadick

Dick took him toward the surface, close enough that the moonlight illuminated the water, tinting it into a rich shade of azure.

Jason had never been courted by an octomer.

He’d never been courted by a regular mer, either, but he’d seen them do it. He’d seen his parents before Willis was caught in a web and Catherine died from the grief. He knew how it was done.

But this, this was uncharted territory.

Jason looked at Dick. The moonlight shone on his face, lighting it. His skin was a golden copper, his hair jet black. His eyes the most gorgeous shade of sapphire Jason had seen.

Dick’s body beneath the neck was pitch black, aside from a v-shaped blue stripe on his chest that extended all the way to his middle and ring fingers on each of his human arms. Jason could feel the bulge of Dick’s muscles when he ran his hand over them, and sense the long, changing, unseen tendrils spreading like a web in the vast abyss of the sea from the current of the water.

Dick smiled. As he pulled Jason close, the skin around his eyes began to change. Rings of black and blue expanded like magic, taking over his eyelids and cheekbones until it looked like he was wearing a mask that magically shifted from blue to black and back again. Like sprinkles of lapis embedded in a layer of obsidian, or drops of obsidian lost in a sea of lapis lazuli.

Dick held Jason close as he performed the alpha courting dance of his subspecies, entangling their bodies as they twirled under the surface. Circling water currents caressed Jason’s face.

Jason couldn’t help but cough out a laugh when one of Dick’s tentacles braced him from behind. Then another. They were slippery and cool; the underside made of blue suction cups that hung to Jason’s body. One wrapped itself around Jason’s red-scaled tail, one spiralling onto his arm. Another gently climbed up and touched Jason’s cheek, the feeling not unlike a lover’s caress and very much was.

It was strange, this feeling. This sensation of being touched and loved by boneless tendrils that knew better than any mer on how to treat a mate. Jason found himself falling into the dance, his eyes heavy lidded and his lips parted, the translucent fins of his tail relaxing into the current and this journey that Dick took him on.

“Jason, open your eyes.”

Jason hadn’t realized he’d closed them before Dick said this. He did as he was told, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dick’s eyes shone in the dark, his mask now a beautiful shade of cerulean blue. And the color of his tendrils was changing as well. The same blue rings popped up here and there, lighting up in the dark and catching the moonlight in the most intoxicating way, expanding, contracting, like a mating dance in and of itself. 

“Jason, I want to be your mate. Will you let me?”

All eight of Dick’s tendrils were now wrapped around him. It felt safe, safe, like he’d never felt since he’d lost his old pack.

Jason threw his head back and sighed in delight and relaxation, grumpily mumbling a “yes” before he allowed himself to sink deeper into that embrace.

-The striped, prehensile tentacle-like appendage that writhed between his legs definitely surprised you, but it wasn’t nearly as frightened as you were prepared for. You smile; this was what he was worried about? This was a cake walk!

-When you hold out your hand, it weaves itself between your fingers, exploring you. Give it a gentle pet, and Beej will let out a soft breath. “Feels good,” he confirms, and you give him another stroke.

-You notice that the more you handle it, the thicker and longer it becomes, beginning to secrete some kind of slippery substance. It feels a lot like regular old KY jelly, so it doesn’t bother you much. As you continue to stroke, smaller appendages begin to appear, these more like feelers, gently nudging along your wrist and forearm.

-You lower your head and guide the tip into your mouth, pleasantly surprised to find that he tastes vaguely sweet. He wriggles a bit in your mouth but you can tell he’s trying to keep as still as he can, not wanting to hurt you or scare you. The feelers stroke along your face; if you close your eyes you can almost mistake them for fingers.

-You’d be content to get him off this way; he’s making such pretty noises, whimpers and groans and high-pitched keens. But he pulls you off, his hair a bright pink and his chest heaving. “That feels amazing, sweets,” he says in a rough purr, before his hands clamp around your waist and throw you up onto the bed. Before you can blink, you feel something wriggling its way through your folds, something warm and thick, and soft nudges, like kisses, on the inside of your thighs. “But I wanna fuck you proper.”

-Well, who are you to argue?

-The moan you let out when he slips inside of you is nothing short of pornographic; no one you’ve ever been with, no toy you’ve ever used has ever felt so good. The way he writhes inside you, twisted and rubbing, leaving no inch of you untouched, makes you pant, makes you see stars. 

-His hips begin to rock, and with each forward buck, it sought out that sweet spot and stroked it, pressed against it, making you keen and arch. Those smaller appendages left off their exploration of your thighs and came to focus on you. 

-Got a vagina? They’ll rub and swirl around your clit. Have a dick instead? They’ll stroke it while you’re getting fucked. 

-You’ll be lucky to remember your own name by the time he’s done with you. 

-Be prepared to be absolutely drenched in cum, because they all ejaculate. You’re gonna be dripping with glowstick juice from the hips down.

-”You really thought I wouldn’t like that? I should kick your ass for not doing this sooner.”

Dr. Iplier whined. “Host, stop being such a fucking tease and do it already!”

The Host chuckled, hand stilling, and he leaned forward the peck Dr. Iplier’s lips before he began muttering under his breath. Dr. Iplier squirmed underneath him, panting as his dick began to shift and morph in the Host’s hand. “Hoooost...nnn, that feels...weird...”

“Shhh, the Host is almost done. Unless Dr. Iplier wants to stop...?”

Dr. Iplier hissed through his teeth. “Don’t you dare.”

The Host hummed, finishing up his words and the magic that flowed through them. Dr. Iplier’s dick had thickened in his hand, much thicker, though particularly at the base as it tapered off at the end. It was smoothe, slick, and when the Host shifted his hand to start stroking again, Dr. Iplier made a strangled sound, bucking his hips as his dick moved in the Host’s hand, wriggling and squirming and coiling around one of the Host’s fingers. Essentially a tentacle now. 

Exactly what the Host wanted.

The Host smirked, squeezing Dr. Iplier’s new tentacle lightly, and Dr. Iplier moaned high and clear, bucking his hips, fingers digging into the Host’s hips. The Host’s smirk grew. “Does that feel good?”

“Oh you prick.” Dr. Iplier squirmed, panting, as the tentacle continued to move. The Host let go of it, letting it explore his hand, coiling around his fingers and the rubbing at the spaces in between. Dr. Iplier shuddered, unable to keep himself still. “It feels...weird, I’m not controlling it, it’s just sort of movin -- nngh!”

The Host rubbed the tip of the tentacle -- a little smaller than the width of his pinky -- between two fingers, as if he were trying to twirl it, and Dr. Iplier spat curses, now writhing beneath the Host, rolling his hips constantly. The Host reached down with his other hand, stroking the tentacle a little as his other hand continued to play with the end. His smirk grew into a grin as he leaned close to purr into Dr. Iplier’s ear. “So sensitive, hm? Already so worked up from the Host’s hands alone...imagine how it’d feel sliding into the Host, into the tight heat of his bo --”

The Host didn’t make it through his sentence before Dr. Iplier was flipping them over and slamming the Host onto the bed. The Host laughed, stupid grin still on his face, even as Dr. Iplier grabbed his wrists, pinning him down. “So impatient, doctor.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Dr. Iplier growled out. He shifted them more securely onto the bed, and the Host couldn’t help the small gasp when he felt the tentacle curiously caressing his ass, and he subconsciously spread his legs wider. Dr. Iplier now wore the grin, nose to nose with the Host. “Not laughing now, are you?”

The Host opened his mouth to snark something back, but then Dr. Iplier began easing into him, and the Host’s mind went blank.

It was weird; the tentacle thrashed and squirmed inside him, trying to wriggle its way deeper inside him despite Dr. Iplier’s slow pace. It stretched him open as it slowly became thicker, sliding deeper inside him. By the time Dr. Iplier was fully seated inside him, the Host was letting out gasping moans, back arching as the tentacle writhed inside him, his heels digging into Dr. Iplier’s back. 

Dr. Iplier pressed his forehead to the Host’s, panting heavily. “Host --” He didn’t finish, electing to instead kiss the Host, almost desperately. THe Host kissed back with a feverish intensity, letting Dr. Iplier swallow his sounds as the tentacle explored his insides. It felt strange, really strange, but so good, and it only got better when the tentacle found his prostate.

The Host broke the kiss to instead toss his head back in a loud, keening moan, clenching tight around the tentacle. His own cock was throbbing with need, dripping pre all over his belly. “Doctor doctor doctor, move, move, please!”

Dr. Iplier needed no further incentive, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back into the Host. The tentacle continued to thrash inside him, sometimes hitting the Host’s sweet spot, other times completely missing it, and the inconsistent spikes of pleasure had the Host writhing all the more.

“Please please please please please --” The Host had fallen into a broken mantra of pleas, only interrupted by his moans. Dr. Iplier was growling in his ear, kissing and nibbling at his throat, and the Host swore loudly. “Fuck, please!”

“Tell me what you want, Host.” The tip of the tentacle pressed hard against the Host’s inner walls, dragging across his prostate as Dr. Iplier fucked him hard, and the Host’s voice stopped working, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Dr. Iplier’s breath was hot against his skin, and the Host tilted his head more for him, shuddering when Dr. Iplier’s teeth grazed against his throat. “Come on, use those pretty words of yours.”

“More!” The Host bit his lip, hard enough bleed. Though blind, stars were still dancing in his vision with every twist of the tentacle. “More, want more, please!”

Dr. Iplier sank his teeth into the Host’s throat, fucking him harder, faster, and the Host’s back arched, rolling his hips down to meet Dr. Iplier’s thrusts. He didn’t last much longer; the tentacle thrashed, rubbing up against his prostate, and the Host exploded all across both their stomachs and his own chest, his orgasm hitting him like a fucking train. He clenched tight around the tentacle, riding out his orgasm, mind fuzzing with overstimulation as Dr. Iplier refused to slow.

Thankfully, he came soon after the Host. He slammed his hips against the Host, pushing as deep as he could go, and he came, filling the Host up. For some reason, there was more cum than with Dr. Iplier’s normal, human dick, and it felt a bit stickier than usual, but the Host didn’t mind. He felt good, and that was all he cared about at the moment.

Dr. Iplier kissed him, the tentacle twitching a bit inside the Host before at last going still. Both of their chests were heaving, and the Host dropped his legs from around Dr. Iplier’s waist. The kiss broke, but the Host could still feel Dr. Iplier’s grin. “Fuck...”

“Mmm...” The Host couldn’t voice much more than that, head still fuzzy, now with the afterglow of the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. His throat would probably hurt the morning, but he honestly couldn’t care less at the moment.

Dr. Iplier laughed, slowly pulling out, and the Host gasped and twitched at the movement. “Come on, my dear. Let’s get ourselves a bath.” He kissed the Host’s forehead. “And I’ll bring you breakfast in bed. Don’t think you’ll be able to walk after that.”

He hefted the Host into his arms, staggering a little, and carried him into the bathroom. The Host just hummed sleepily, and curled into his chest. “...Tea and waffles, please...”