“You will be Thin’s Hairy,” he says with a growl. His rubbing fingers clamp over my mound with possession, and I reward him with a palmful of my arousal.
“Thin, your name is Thin. Where do you live, Thin?” With one hand on his cheek, my other hand roams the landscape of his body. He’s lean but not skinny, with leathery scales covering every inch. As I near his Orian’s Belt, his cock—wait—two cocks jump to greet me.
“I live here. Hairy in my home. Be my—” His words end in a groan as my curious fingers learn his shape.
A thin cock, shaped like a human man’s, oozes slime from the tip. My fingers buzz and tingle where they touch the goop. I squeeze my thighs together, so I avoid experiencing the buzz in a more delicate place. Below it, his second cock is aringed tube. My fingers don’t touch when I measure its girth. I shimmy with anticipation of trying to take the pole into my body. Will it fit? Will I bruise or tear my opening? Do I care after the rapture I experienced impaled on his tentacles? The way the rings pulse may scramble my brain. His mouth drops open as his eyes flutter shut with inhumanly long lashes. His brain may be scrambled already.
“Is my touch okay?” I fish for compliments, but I feel desirable for the first time in my life.
“Learn me,” he whispers with a sigh. “Learn your male.”
“Do you want to learn my body too?” I ask too quickly. I don’t know if he’s a virgin or if he has a fishy wife in the pond. What if I’m strangled by a she-creature instead of sliced by Leopold?
“I know Hairy. I know Hairy is my place,” he says, rolling to my side. He stretches his webbed fingers on my abdomen, below my navel. “I choose Hairy.”
I may be wanton, but my legs fly open at that. A male is choosing me? Wallflower Harriett, with the strange father and dubious dowery, thrust into a loveless marriage because she never attracted suitors when in her prime…is a lifetime away from where I offer myself to Thin. I’m delighted when he wastes no time claiming the nectar dripping from my cunt with his tentacles.
“Oh, your tentacles!” I cry with my hipsthrusting upward.
“Barbels know your flavor,” he says, lifting a two-foot appendage and rubbing it along my lips. He can’t pronounce the ‘F’ in flavor, so maybe his name is Fin, not Thin. “Not barbel but learn your shape like an en-cul…entacool—" The four-foot tentacle he holds aloft wiggles as he stumbles on its name.
“I understand,” I say, wrapping my fingers around the tentacle. His short facial appendages are barbels, while the longer ones are tentacles. Oh dear, I have one hand wrapped around his larger cock and the other around a tentacle…without invitation.
I must have made a face. When I open my mouth to ask for consent, Fin pushes the example barbel between my lips. It plays with my tongue and explores my gums.
“Round teeth and defenseless hands. Hairy has a weak mouth. She will need Fin’s strength and claws.” He bares his yellow fangs at me, so ‘strength’ sounds more like ‘senff.’ Instead of fearing their sharp points, I focus on his assessment of my weakness based on my tooth shape. I suck his barbel with hollowed cheeks until he stops smiling. He grabs my breasts to cling to reality.
“Soft,” I say, releasing his appendages to tease myself. His barbel retracts so I can explain. My fingers squeeze his scaled hands to knead my breast tissue. “Hard points are what you want,” I instruct as if my nipples aren’t hard already. My thumb brushes his with increasingly insistent strokes, so the webbing catches and releases my areola to spread my pleasure.
“Will buds spray?”
“Oh no,” I reply while trying not to giggle. “I um… spray below. Spraying is good too…very good.”
“Hairy spray when Fin is good,” he says as he hides his face in the crook of my neck. His breath fans over the sensitive space beneath my ear. A pair of barbels enter my mouth, so I guess my lessons are over. The tentacles become more brazen in their exploration. Instead of tracing circles on my inner thighs, they open my labia and trace the delicate tissues within. I squeak around his appendages as a sucker attaches to my clit. The rhythmic suck and release may be the death of me.
One…two…three…tentacles glide in and out of me while Fin breathes in my scent. He shifts to lay between my legs without his tentacles losing their pattern. I wish I could see his face. In this new position, I can’t reach his cocks. All I can do is surrender to the pleasure washing over me.
My orgasm hits me like a runaway train. Fin rears back to check that I’m screaming in pleasure and not pain. The worry melts from his face, and he adds two more barbels to my mouth to muffle my screams. The stretching of my lips and constantrubbing sends me into overdrive. Who knew my bottom lip was a hot button too? He pumps them once and waits for my consent, but I’m too gone to care. With half a nod, his barbels mimic the tentacles below with shallow thrusts.
He eases me down from my peak with a gentleness unexpected from a creature. I’m treasured like a precious piece of glass or a priceless work of art. Drenched tentacles replace his webbed hands. They smear the evidence of my orgasm over my breasts in an erotic painting that shines in the moonlight. I’m marked as wanton, and I revel in it. I can’t deny I’ve fallen into indecency when I’m naked except for the mud coating my back. I jump when my mound is splashed and massaged. Fin’s hand pumps green goop from his smaller cock until it drips over me. My nerves jump to attention as the tingling chemical soaks into my skin. He massages it between my labia and into my body until I light up like a Christmas tree.
“Opens you,” Fin growls. “Opens Hairy for me, not you, Papa.”
“Yes, good. Follow your instincts, Phineas. Don’t stop on my account.”
My heart stutters. My blood runs cold. My thighs snap shut around Fin.
“Leopold,” I whisper in horror.I knew he would catch me…but he knows Fin. Of course, he knows Fin…err…Phineas. How else would a sea monster get into our pond?Use your head, Harriett!How long has Leopold been watching? What will he do now? How much of our passion was Phineas and I? How much was engineered by Leopold?
“Don’t act so fearful, dear wife. My plan was always for you to join my experiments, but I assumed I would have to force you. We could have been breeding you with many different monsters by now if you had told me about your deviance.”
“My deviance?” Tears drip down my cheeks. Phineas gathers me against his chest and shields my nudity from the deranged light in Leopold’s eyes.
“Phineas—you have my permission. You can give this one your eggs.”
Chapter 5
Harriett is different from the women Papa brings me. The beautiful Harriett came to the swamp, seeking my touch. She talked to me instead of screaming awful things about me. I understand Harriett, but I haven’t had time to tell her. She’s trying to understand my words. I hate that I don’t have lips—not plump like Harriett’s or thin like Papa’s lips—just scales around my mouth. Before Mother disappeared, she taught me to say as many words as my flat mouth allowed. I know my letters, numbers, and colors. Mother started to teach me the magic of reading when Papa took her away. I have thoughts and feelings…
