“Have you considered,” Taliesin asks, “that maybe you put some sort of request out into the universe and the universe granted it?”
Ivan flexes his right wrist, letting the small tentacle emerge from the Bracelets of Fortune. Initially it’s short and slim, just the color of his skin, dotted with a couple of freckles. When Taliesin gives Ivan an enquiring look and Ivan nods for him to go ahead and touch it, it lengthens, thickens, and darkens even before Taliesin runs a finger along it from base to tip. It shivers under his touch and rubs against his finger.
“What sort of request to the universe gives someone tentacles?” he asks.
Taliesin shrugs. “The sort where you frequently mention them in, oh, a roleplaying game or during an erotic fan fiction reading, and someone notices.”
“So now it’s someone, not the universe at large?” Ivan watches in fascination as the tentacle delicately explores Taliesin’s fingers, twining around them. His ability to feel what they’re feeling is growing, but still not fully developed.
“Well, the universe does need its conduits.” Taliesin wraps his fingers around the tentacle and squeezes lightly, and Ivan bites back a gasp as the sensation shoots straight to his cock—not that he’s not already half hard anyway. Something about being in close proximity to Taliesin, while sitting on Taliesin’s bed, with the intoxicating aroma of a spicy, earthy oil diffusing in a nearby burner.
Taliesin’s giving him a small amused smile, and Ivan lifts his left hand. He’s come to think of this tentacle as having much more of a one-track mind, and maybe Taliesin won’t look so damn smug if he has to deal with that one instead of the well-behaved one.
It bursts out and Taliesin grabs it mid-air as it’s en route to presumably try to wipe the smile off Taliesin’s face.
“No,” he scolds it, and the tentacle droops in his hand. He looks at Ivan. “I guess you need some training.”
“Me, or them?” Ivan can feel the two that flank his cock shivering just under his skin and tries to think about anything other than the myriad mental images that the word training evokes.
“Them. Mostly.” The smile is back as Taliesin lets go of the right wrist tentacle to let it curl back around Ivan’s forearm. “Unless you’re consciously attempting to face-fuck me with one of your wrist tentacles.”
“Not a sentence I’d ever expected to hear.” Ivan looks down at his bare feet, where the right ankle tentacle is attempting to stealthily twine itself around both his and Taliesin’s ankles. Taliesin smacks it with his free hand and the tentacle reacts. “No. I’m not trying to do it on purpose.” He gives Taliesin a helpless look. “I just can’t—this is what I was afraid of, that given the opportunity they’d try to get at someone else.”
Taliesin shrugs again. “That’s what happens when you give them free use of your own body, Ivan. They get used to it.” He pats Ivan’s flaming red cheek. “How long ago did you say this started? A week, before you thought to come to me?”
“...two,” Ivan admits. “I thought of you the first day—”
“—I’m so flattered—”
“—but they didn’t try to do anything to anyone but me, and...” He whimpers as the left wrist tentacle wriggles in Taliesin’s grip and Taliesin gives it a rough squeeze. “Oh...”
“It feels good.” A statement, not a question. “They respect the fact that if you get pushed too far you’ll hurt in a bad way—”
(they both know a great deal about the good ways to hurt)
“—and that’ll make you less likely to let them do anything. But there’s a lot of middle ground between doing nothing at all and hitting that limit.”
“Mmmm.” The right one is reaching for Ivan’s waistband; he reels it back in, holding it in a loose fist.
“How many times did you come, the first time?”
“What?” Despite the inherent intimacy of the situation, it seems like a very personal question.
“I need to know so I can get an idea for how much they think they can get away with.”
“Oh.” Ivan thinks back to that afternoon. “I lost count after four.”
“Nice.” Taliesin lifts the recalcitrant left tentacle to his lips. “Are you going to behave?” he murmurs to it, and the tip nudges against his cheek but doesn’t push any further. “That’s good.”
Ivan bites his lip. “Taliesin... just be careful, okay? I don’t know what they’re capable of. They could hurt you. I don’t have enough control.” He swallows hard. “To be honest, I’m scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Taliesin says.
And then he sucks the flushed tip into his mouth. His eyes half-close and he hums softly around the sensitive appendage, and there is no dampening of the sensation: Ivan feels it wholly and completely. His hips jerk and he has to scramble not to just tip over sideways into Taliesin’s lap.
“Taliesin! What—”
Taliesin withdraws the tentacle from his mouth. His eyes have gone dark; they’re mostly pupil save for a thin ring of deep violet iris, which is fucking weird because that’s not his eye color. “I’m not scared,” he repeats. “And the best way to train these little beasties is by leaping into the deep end.” He lets go of the tentacle and it slithers around to the back of his neck, suckers playing with the curl of hair over his nape. “So come here and let’s go deep.”
His mouth is hot and tastes of the flat, faintly salty, faintly mineral flavor of the tentacle’s secretions. His fingers twine into Ivan’s hair, and his other hand finds Ivan’s right wrist, first gripping it with a hard squeeze that makes Ivan gasp and then sliding the length of the tentacle there, stroking it very purposefully in a jerking-off motion.
“God, Taliesin—” Ivan pants into Taliesin’s mouth. “Are you sure?”
“Strip,” Taliesin says, pushing him away.
Ivan doesn’t even stop to think about it, disentangling the left tentacle from Taliesin’s hair so that he can tug off his t-shirt and shed his sweats. He hooks his thumbs into his underwear and looks at Taliesin.
“Everything.”
So the underwear goes as well, and fuck knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about a little nudity considering he’s already had to explain that he has tentacles and he’s been fucked senseless by them, but there’s something about the way Taliesin’s gaze rakes over him, lingering on his cock and the twin rippling bulges under the skin either side of it that makes him feel like his entire catalogue of sexual dreams and desires is written across his blushing skin.
“Just relax,” Taliesin says. “I told you, I’m not scared.” His tone holds a challenge that stirs what’s under Ivan’s skin. “You can show me. Lie down, if it’s easier.”
“Do you have any towels?” Ivan feels his face and chest turning redder still. “They—it gets messy.”
Taliesin gets up, standing and stretching in a way that Ivan is positive is meant to make his t-shirt ride up and show skin, show the waistband of his underwear just above the waistband of his jeans. “Sure.” He unfolds two large towels and shakes them out to cover the bed. “How messy? Wet? Drippy?”
“Ah—”
“I just need to know so I can understand how entrenched they are.” He tickles the one protruding from Ivan’s right wrist and it vibrates softly. “This one’s a good one. Aren’t you?”
“I had to do a lot of washing after the first time,” Ivan says, stretching out on the bed on his back. The ankle tentacles both slide out, spiraling around his legs up to mid-thigh before stopping, but the ones either side of his cock don’t emerge yet, though he can feel the now familiar tension that says they want to.
Taliesin watches as the tentacle at Ivan’s right wrist flattens out across his chest, just looking at him as the suckers go to work on his nipples, and his intense gaze is as strong a sensation as the little pulling and tugging sensations across Ivan’s chest.
“Is it good?” he asks softly.
“Oh... yeah.” Ivan can feel the right tentacle twitching madly and keeps his eyes locked with Taliesin’s as he lifts his hand so it can go where it wants to, curling right around his neck and squeezing before the tip delves between his lips. It’s Taliesin’s turn to gasp as Ivan continues his demonstration, and the tension in Ivan’s groin is almost unbearable.
But they’re still hidden away.
Taliesin puts a hand on his thigh and Ivan whimpers around his mouthful. “I think they want to see what it is you’re thinking about,” he says. “And you’re thinking about me. You’re thinking about me and what they might do to me and whether I’ll really be able to control them.” He pulls his t-shirt off, folding it and putting it on a stack of clean laundry on a chair. Ivan’s hips jerk but the damn main tentacles still don’t make an appearance, though the ones wound around his legs are shivering. “Not enough? Shall I continue?”
Ivan pulls the one in his mouth back out. “Taliesin. Don’t make them mad. Don’t... don’t tease them.”
Taliesin ignores him, stripping his pants off slowly, folding them and setting them down neatly with his t-shirt.
“Is there anything else you think you ought to tell me?” he asks gently, eyes roaming Ivan’s body again. “What are you afraid they’ll do to me?” He takes a step closer to the bed, and the bulge in his underwear is thick and solid.
Ivan wets his lips. “Hurt you,” he manages.
“Did they hurt you, Ivan? Or did they just fill you up everywhere and make you come until you couldn’t any more?” Taliesin palms the front of his underwear. “Until you were exhausted and covered in come and slick?” His eyes are almost entirely black now and Ivan doesn’t think it’s about pupil dilation any more. “Did you wish you could keep going even after they stopped?”
“I don’t believe you’re just collecting data any more,” Ivan says, breath catching in his throat as the right wrist tentacle squeezes his neck.
Taliesin raises an eyebrow. “Do you believe I ever was?” He eases his underwear off over his cock; he’s rock hard, tip wet, and Ivan lets out an involuntary moan just at the sight. “Would it be easier to believe I was just trying to get you all worked up so they’d do their worst?”
“Ah, hell,” Ivan says with feeling, as the thick tentacles finally, finally unfurl from their hiding place beneath the skin between his thighs and snake out towards Taliesin, who doesn’t shy away but instead steps closer to the bed and catches them, squeezing just below the tips, which have gone bulbous and dark. “Taliesin—”
“Spread.”
Ivan’s thighs jerk apart and Taliesin swiftly kneels between them, sitting back on his heels, still holding both the thick tentacles.
“I see you at least can follow orders,” he says. “Now we just have to teach these new friends of yours to be as obedient.” He gathers the two of them into one hand and strokes them with the other, not a firm stroke, more like petting a wild animal. “I get the feeling it’s not really me you’re afraid of them hurting.”
Ivan swallows and then nods.
“And it’s not yourself.”
“No.”
“Do you want to tell me who?”
“Not really.” Ivan sighs. “They’re an adult, at least, and they could theoretically consent, assuming they didn’t just run the other way screaming.”
“Oh? So is it someone you don’t think would enjoy being smeared with contact aphrodisiac and put through a series of intense orgasms?”
“That part they’d be fine with. It’s the additional appendages that’s the problem.”
“If it’s someone who’s had the pleasure of your hands and your mouth and this—” Taliesin gives his cock a light squeeze and Ivan gasps; the tentacle at his throat slips back between his lips “—I’m sure they’d adjust to the fact that you now have six more ways to touch them.” He lifts the two thick tentacles to his lips and sucks first one then the other rounded end into his mouth, alternating between them until Ivan’s whimpering and writhing. “Of course, if you really just want them gone again, I imagine whatever force put them there in the first place could remove them again.” He takes both of them into his mouth at once, tongue wriggling between them. “It would be a shame if that happened before you got the chance to try them out with a partner, though.”
Ivan reaches out to him, wrist tentacles still busily working on his chest and mouth, but his hands able to grip Taliesin’s biceps, pulling him down until their bodies align. His ankle tentacles unwind from his own legs to slide over Taliesin’s calves and thighs, and Taliesin wriggles against him, settling with his cock pressing along the crease between Ivan’s thigh and groin.
The tentacle slips free of his mouth to caress Taliesin’s cheek. Taliesin leans into the touch and then his lips are on Ivan’s, kissing him again as the tentacle that was suckling at Ivan’s nipples twists between them to do the same thing to Taliesin’s chest. Taliesin sighs against Ivan’s mouth.
“Oh, that’s nice. It’s been a while.”
“How is this not driving you crazy?” Ivan demands.
Taliesin smiles down at him. “Centuries of self-control, darling.” He rolls his hips to dig his cock against Ivan’s skin. “But if you’d like we can skip ahead a little; I’m sure you’ve noticed their effect on recovery time.”
“What exactly are you trying to achieve here?”
“Well, I’m going to teach them how to play nicely with other people, and I’m also going to help them fuck you until you’re an incoherent mess.” Taliesin licks the tentacles that his hand is fisted around again; Ivan watches the fringed one’s little fingers flutter against Taliesin’s tongue. “After all, it’s easier to train them if I can get a sense for exactly what they do.”
Untitled Taliesin/Ivan tentacle sex, E, 1/?
“Have you considered,” Taliesin asks, “that maybe you put some sort of request out into the universe and the universe granted it?”
Ivan flexes his right wrist, letting the small tentacle emerge from the Bracelets of Fortune. Initially it’s short and slim, just the color of his skin, dotted with a couple of freckles. When Taliesin gives Ivan an enquiring look and Ivan nods for him to go ahead and touch it, it lengthens, thickens, and darkens even before Taliesin runs a finger along it from base to tip. It shivers under his touch and rubs against his finger.
“What sort of request to the universe gives someone tentacles?” he asks.
Taliesin shrugs. “The sort where you frequently mention them in, oh, a roleplaying game or during an erotic fan fiction reading, and someone notices.”
“So now it’s someone, not the universe at large?” Ivan watches in fascination as the tentacle delicately explores Taliesin’s fingers, twining around them. His ability to feel what they’re feeling is growing, but still not fully developed.
“Well, the universe does need its conduits.” Taliesin wraps his fingers around the tentacle and squeezes lightly, and Ivan bites back a gasp as the sensation shoots straight to his cock—not that he’s not already half hard anyway. Something about being in close proximity to Taliesin, while sitting on Taliesin’s bed, with the intoxicating aroma of a spicy, earthy oil diffusing in a nearby burner.
Taliesin’s giving him a small amused smile, and Ivan lifts his left hand. He’s come to think of this tentacle as having much more of a one-track mind, and maybe Taliesin won’t look so damn smug if he has to deal with that one instead of the well-behaved one.
It bursts out and Taliesin grabs it mid-air as it’s en route to presumably try to wipe the smile off Taliesin’s face.
“No,” he scolds it, and the tentacle droops in his hand. He looks at Ivan. “I guess you need some training.”
“Me, or them?” Ivan can feel the two that flank his cock shivering just under his skin and tries to think about anything other than the myriad mental images that the word training evokes.
“Them. Mostly.” The smile is back as Taliesin lets go of the right wrist tentacle to let it curl back around Ivan’s forearm. “Unless you’re consciously attempting to face-fuck me with one of your wrist tentacles.”
“Not a sentence I’d ever expected to hear.” Ivan looks down at his bare feet, where the right ankle tentacle is attempting to stealthily twine itself around both his and Taliesin’s ankles. Taliesin smacks it with his free hand and the tentacle reacts. “No. I’m not trying to do it on purpose.” He gives Taliesin a helpless look. “I just can’t—this is what I was afraid of, that given the opportunity they’d try to get at someone else.”
Taliesin shrugs again. “That’s what happens when you give them free use of your own body, Ivan. They get used to it.” He pats Ivan’s flaming red cheek. “How long ago did you say this started? A week, before you thought to come to me?”
“...two,” Ivan admits. “I thought of you the first day—”
“—I’m so flattered—”
“—but they didn’t try to do anything to anyone but me, and...” He whimpers as the left wrist tentacle wriggles in Taliesin’s grip and Taliesin gives it a rough squeeze. “Oh...”
“It feels good.” A statement, not a question. “They respect the fact that if you get pushed too far you’ll hurt in a bad way—”
(they both know a great deal about the good ways to hurt)
“—and that’ll make you less likely to let them do anything. But there’s a lot of middle ground between doing nothing at all and hitting that limit.”
“Mmmm.” The right one is reaching for Ivan’s waistband; he reels it back in, holding it in a loose fist.
“How many times did you come, the first time?”
“What?” Despite the inherent intimacy of the situation, it seems like a very personal question.
“I need to know so I can get an idea for how much they think they can get away with.”
“Oh.” Ivan thinks back to that afternoon. “I lost count after four.”
“Nice.” Taliesin lifts the recalcitrant left tentacle to his lips. “Are you going to behave?” he murmurs to it, and the tip nudges against his cheek but doesn’t push any further. “That’s good.”
Ivan bites his lip. “Taliesin... just be careful, okay? I don’t know what they’re capable of. They could hurt you. I don’t have enough control.” He swallows hard. “To be honest, I’m scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Taliesin says.
And then he sucks the flushed tip into his mouth. His eyes half-close and he hums softly around the sensitive appendage, and there is no dampening of the sensation: Ivan feels it wholly and completely. His hips jerk and he has to scramble not to just tip over sideways into Taliesin’s lap.
“Taliesin! What—”
Taliesin withdraws the tentacle from his mouth. His eyes have gone dark; they’re mostly pupil save for a thin ring of deep violet iris, which is fucking weird because that’s not his eye color. “I’m not scared,” he repeats. “And the best way to train these little beasties is by leaping into the deep end.” He lets go of the tentacle and it slithers around to the back of his neck, suckers playing with the curl of hair over his nape. “So come here and let’s go deep.”
His mouth is hot and tastes of the flat, faintly salty, faintly mineral flavor of the tentacle’s secretions. His fingers twine into Ivan’s hair, and his other hand finds Ivan’s right wrist, first gripping it with a hard squeeze that makes Ivan gasp and then sliding the length of the tentacle there, stroking it very purposefully in a jerking-off motion.
“God, Taliesin—” Ivan pants into Taliesin’s mouth. “Are you sure?”
“Strip,” Taliesin says, pushing him away.
Ivan doesn’t even stop to think about it, disentangling the left tentacle from Taliesin’s hair so that he can tug off his t-shirt and shed his sweats. He hooks his thumbs into his underwear and looks at Taliesin.
“Everything.”
So the underwear goes as well, and fuck knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about a little nudity considering he’s already had to explain that he has tentacles and he’s been fucked senseless by them, but there’s something about the way Taliesin’s gaze rakes over him, lingering on his cock and the twin rippling bulges under the skin either side of it that makes him feel like his entire catalogue of sexual dreams and desires is written across his blushing skin.
“Just relax,” Taliesin says. “I told you, I’m not scared.” His tone holds a challenge that stirs what’s under Ivan’s skin. “You can show me. Lie down, if it’s easier.”
“Do you have any towels?” Ivan feels his face and chest turning redder still. “They—it gets messy.”
Taliesin gets up, standing and stretching in a way that Ivan is positive is meant to make his t-shirt ride up and show skin, show the waistband of his underwear just above the waistband of his jeans. “Sure.” He unfolds two large towels and shakes them out to cover the bed. “How messy? Wet? Drippy?”
“Ah—”
“I just need to know so I can understand how entrenched they are.” He tickles the one protruding from Ivan’s right wrist and it vibrates softly. “This one’s a good one. Aren’t you?”
“I had to do a lot of washing after the first time,” Ivan says, stretching out on the bed on his back. The ankle tentacles both slide out, spiraling around his legs up to mid-thigh before stopping, but the ones either side of his cock don’t emerge yet, though he can feel the now familiar tension that says they want to.
Taliesin watches as the tentacle at Ivan’s right wrist flattens out across his chest, just looking at him as the suckers go to work on his nipples, and his intense gaze is as strong a sensation as the little pulling and tugging sensations across Ivan’s chest.
“Is it good?” he asks softly.
“Oh... yeah.” Ivan can feel the right tentacle twitching madly and keeps his eyes locked with Taliesin’s as he lifts his hand so it can go where it wants to, curling right around his neck and squeezing before the tip delves between his lips. It’s Taliesin’s turn to gasp as Ivan continues his demonstration, and the tension in Ivan’s groin is almost unbearable.
But they’re still hidden away.
Taliesin puts a hand on his thigh and Ivan whimpers around his mouthful. “I think they want to see what it is you’re thinking about,” he says. “And you’re thinking about me. You’re thinking about me and what they might do to me and whether I’ll really be able to control them.” He pulls his t-shirt off, folding it and putting it on a stack of clean laundry on a chair. Ivan’s hips jerk but the damn main tentacles still don’t make an appearance, though the ones wound around his legs are shivering. “Not enough? Shall I continue?”
Ivan pulls the one in his mouth back out. “Taliesin. Don’t make them mad. Don’t... don’t tease them.”
Taliesin ignores him, stripping his pants off slowly, folding them and setting them down neatly with his t-shirt.
“Is there anything else you think you ought to tell me?” he asks gently, eyes roaming Ivan’s body again. “What are you afraid they’ll do to me?” He takes a step closer to the bed, and the bulge in his underwear is thick and solid.
Ivan wets his lips. “Hurt you,” he manages.
“Did they hurt you, Ivan? Or did they just fill you up everywhere and make you come until you couldn’t any more?” Taliesin palms the front of his underwear. “Until you were exhausted and covered in come and slick?” His eyes are almost entirely black now and Ivan doesn’t think it’s about pupil dilation any more. “Did you wish you could keep going even after they stopped?”
“I don’t believe you’re just collecting data any more,” Ivan says, breath catching in his throat as the right wrist tentacle squeezes his neck.
Taliesin raises an eyebrow. “Do you believe I ever was?” He eases his underwear off over his cock; he’s rock hard, tip wet, and Ivan lets out an involuntary moan just at the sight. “Would it be easier to believe I was just trying to get you all worked up so they’d do their worst?”
“Ah, hell,” Ivan says with feeling, as the thick tentacles finally, finally unfurl from their hiding place beneath the skin between his thighs and snake out towards Taliesin, who doesn’t shy away but instead steps closer to the bed and catches them, squeezing just below the tips, which have gone bulbous and dark. “Taliesin—”
“Spread.”
Ivan’s thighs jerk apart and Taliesin swiftly kneels between them, sitting back on his heels, still holding both the thick tentacles.
“I see you at least can follow orders,” he says. “Now we just have to teach these new friends of yours to be as obedient.” He gathers the two of them into one hand and strokes them with the other, not a firm stroke, more like petting a wild animal. “I get the feeling it’s not really me you’re afraid of them hurting.”
Ivan swallows and then nods.
“And it’s not yourself.”
“No.”
“Do you want to tell me who?”
“Not really.” Ivan sighs. “They’re an adult, at least, and they could theoretically consent, assuming they didn’t just run the other way screaming.”
“Oh? So is it someone you don’t think would enjoy being smeared with contact aphrodisiac and put through a series of intense orgasms?”
“That part they’d be fine with. It’s the additional appendages that’s the problem.”
“If it’s someone who’s had the pleasure of your hands and your mouth and this—” Taliesin gives his cock a light squeeze and Ivan gasps; the tentacle at his throat slips back between his lips “—I’m sure they’d adjust to the fact that you now have six more ways to touch them.” He lifts the two thick tentacles to his lips and sucks first one then the other rounded end into his mouth, alternating between them until Ivan’s whimpering and writhing. “Of course, if you really just want them gone again, I imagine whatever force put them there in the first place could remove them again.” He takes both of them into his mouth at once, tongue wriggling between them. “It would be a shame if that happened before you got the chance to try them out with a partner, though.”
Ivan reaches out to him, wrist tentacles still busily working on his chest and mouth, but his hands able to grip Taliesin’s biceps, pulling him down until their bodies align. His ankle tentacles unwind from his own legs to slide over Taliesin’s calves and thighs, and Taliesin wriggles against him, settling with his cock pressing along the crease between Ivan’s thigh and groin.
The tentacle slips free of his mouth to caress Taliesin’s cheek. Taliesin leans into the touch and then his lips are on Ivan’s, kissing him again as the tentacle that was suckling at Ivan’s nipples twists between them to do the same thing to Taliesin’s chest. Taliesin sighs against Ivan’s mouth.
“Oh, that’s nice. It’s been a while.”
“How is this not driving you crazy?” Ivan demands.
Taliesin smiles down at him. “Centuries of self-control, darling.” He rolls his hips to dig his cock against Ivan’s skin. “But if you’d like we can skip ahead a little; I’m sure you’ve noticed their effect on recovery time.”
“What exactly are you trying to achieve here?”
“Well, I’m going to teach them how to play nicely with other people, and I’m also going to help them fuck you until you’re an incoherent mess.” Taliesin licks the tentacles that his hand is fisted around again; Ivan watches the fringed one’s little fingers flutter against Taliesin’s tongue. “After all, it’s easier to train them if I can get a sense for exactly what they do.”
And with that he lets go.