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November 25 - November 26, 2025
Everything in my life had become boring. Repetitive. Bland, even. Being one of the oldest monsters around, and potentially the last of your kind, could do that to you.
As if by its own accord, one of my tentacles unraveled and snaked around his forearm. It was one of my breeding tentacles, my hectocotylus, and the moment it made contact with his skin—I almost came. Oh, gods no. That was a male kraken’s mate bond response.
Of course a man like him would find a monster like me repulsive. And of course, out of all the beings I’d met in my long life, that man was my mate.
You could be masculine and pretty. They weren’t mutually exclusive.
“You’d have to be out of your gods damn mind not to want what they have. Man or monster, who gives a fuck. Love is love.”
“Ah, yeah. The tongues freak people out a bit, but they’re actually quite helpful. Especially for certain things.”
Never in my life did I think I’d be out to lunch with a tentacle monster, hearing him talk about how good his tongues were for sucking dick.
Oh, hey Cyrus! Nice tentacles you’ve got there. Wanna shove them up my ass?
“Breathe, darling. You’re doing so well.” Darling. I’d never been called something so sweet.

