[As the dim light of the little hideaway swims into Baptiste’s vision - he hadn’t expected to hear a moan of all things. Confusion crosses dull features, his return to consciousness marked by the rapid bombardment of sensation after sensation. From the cooling slick that clings to his cheek and pastes down onto his flesh to the slow realization that some sort of firmness takes hold of his waist and lifts his lower half upward.
One of his hands whip outward to better catch his weight - the actions of a man who has tumbled or corrected a head-first fall time and time again - only to be met with an eager appendage that wraps around his wrist. His fingers tense against the ground before splaying outward when the tip of the tentacle traces over his palm…
And the greeting he’s met with doesn’t help clear up this situation. A tone that is dripping in levity and… is punctuated by a wet, sordid noise. His gaze meets hers-
Seconds before a tentacle wraps around his neck and pins his face to stay with one side pressed into the ground. His eyes widen initially, something wild stoked behind them-
But her reaction keeps him from completely losing himself. Something so unbothered. So casual - from a creature that (if he remembered correctly) ambushed him whilst he was on the hunt for another.]
Another day in paradise for you then? [Baptiste’s voice is more strained than he’d like, even as he forces a joke in hopes of soothing the boil in his blood. A huff leaves his throat as one of the slick appendages rub over the curve of his raised ass. Slowly, his body is bent into a position as if the creature were testing just how far it could stretch or strain the body of its newest catch.
It pulls and tugs, as if to draw Baptiste’s very spine like a bow. As if to incentivize this curious play, the tip of another slick tentacle slides over the exposed abdomen of the circus performer before slipping into the folds of the loose, hooded-crop to grope at his chest. A soft groan follows, as he tries to keep his eye on the red-head before him.
He can’t help but notice just how the ripped remains of tights spider out of her thighs - and he quickly realizes he’s about to lose his pair of favorite sweatpants here.... and that's it's not long before he's found himself in a similar position as the woman who greeted him. Tch.] You don't seem particularly plussed about this, eh? So are you about to tell me something inspirational?
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One of his hands whip outward to better catch his weight - the actions of a man who has tumbled or corrected a head-first fall time and time again - only to be met with an eager appendage that wraps around his wrist. His fingers tense against the ground before splaying outward when the tip of the tentacle traces over his palm…
And the greeting he’s met with doesn’t help clear up this situation. A tone that is dripping in levity and… is punctuated by a wet, sordid noise. His gaze meets hers-
Seconds before a tentacle wraps around his neck and pins his face to stay with one side pressed into the ground. His eyes widen initially, something wild stoked behind them-
But her reaction keeps him from completely losing himself. Something so unbothered. So casual - from a creature that (if he remembered correctly) ambushed him whilst he was on the hunt for another.]
Another day in paradise for you then? [Baptiste’s voice is more strained than he’d like, even as he forces a joke in hopes of soothing the boil in his blood. A huff leaves his throat as one of the slick appendages rub over the curve of his raised ass. Slowly, his body is bent into a position as if the creature were testing just how far it could stretch or strain the body of its newest catch.
It pulls and tugs, as if to draw Baptiste’s very spine like a bow. As if to incentivize this curious play, the tip of another slick tentacle slides over the exposed abdomen of the circus performer before slipping into the folds of the loose, hooded-crop to grope at his chest. A soft groan follows, as he tries to keep his eye on the red-head before him.
He can’t help but notice just how the ripped remains of tights spider out of her thighs - and he quickly realizes he’s about to lose his pair of favorite sweatpants here.... and that's it's not long before he's found himself in a similar position as the woman who greeted him. Tch.] You don't seem particularly plussed about this, eh? So are you about to tell me something inspirational?