The noonday sun warms the sands of the Pondvein Shallows into white, sparkling heat, everything turned to diamonds and sapphires beneath the sun. The cool, frothy waters lap and the shore, sending curling lines of pastel shells to wash up on the shore. Tiny fish dart through the rivulets of water, chasing specks of sunlight. 

Silhouetted by the brightness of the sun is a hulking, mountainous shape, a black hill against the blue sky. Gulls wheel around its shape, curious and hungry. 

Like a lunging serpent, a shadowed tendril lances upward from the water, coiling around the scrawny neck of one of the gulls. With a snap it plunges the gull into darkness, leaving only feathers and the shrieking of its brothers. 

In the distance, a little mouse picks his way along the shore. He seems distracted, focusing on the warmth of the sun on his bare shoulders, the cool of the surf on his toes. He is utterly alone. Matthew stretches lazily, his paws stretched above his head, enjoying the tickle of the breeze over his bare chest and legs. Only a simple linen loincloth protects him. 

The sweetness of the sea air washes over him, and there is a deeper scent beneath it, something darker, heavier, almost bitter. Matthew’s little nose twitches as he turns towards its source, walking slowly towards the dark shape at the edge of the sea. 

At first he thinks its a beached whale or some strange, bloated carcass. He hesitates, not wanting to see a decaying animal gnawed by gulls and fish. And yet, he can’t deny his curiosity. 

The scent is thicker up close, like the rich black mud that stinks of salt and sweetness, fertile and thick. It reminds Matthew of humid spring nights, sultry and close. He breathes in deep, the scent coating his tongue. The sigil across his stomach flickers hungrily, the strange smell kindling a deeper harsher hunger in him.    

Matthews steps come faster as he approaches the silhouette form. Its size blots out the sun, the shadows deep and indigo. Matthew is near-blinded in the shade, his sun-dazzled eyes wide and blinking as he waits for his vision to adjust. 

When the sun spots fade from his eyes, Matthew can gaze up at the enormous creature before him, a beast that looks more like an octopus than the beached whale he had formerly considered. Its slippery flesh is the deep indigo of a summer’s night sky, spotted with bioluminescent freckles in a brilliant, electric blue. The huge sweep of its body towers over him, its eyes a vast, sunrise gold. 

Matthew’s vision locks on that eye, paralyzed by the vibrancy of its color, the massive swell of its body. They’re only meters apart; Matthew is close enough that he can see its body expanding and contracting as it breathes, feel the humming vibrations of its power through the sand. 

The eye blinks. As if woken from a dream, Matthew shakes his head, clearing it. Dust motes swirl in his vision, he waves a paw idly to dispel them. The sparkles flicker and dance and refuse to be swatted, drawing Matthew’s gaze back to the creature’s golden eye. 

Something soft and wet caresses the back of his leg, guiding him to step closer to the creature. He moves forward a few steps, seafoam lapping his footpaws and the very tip of his tail. The pressure moves him closer still and he feels a soft, low humming emanating from the creature, as if the air around it is vibrating. It’s almost dizzying, working its way into the recesses of his mind. His body feeling oddly slack, as though he’s slipped into a hot bath instead of dipping his toes in the ocean. 

He’s no more than an arm’s length from the creature when it rears up, its great body heaving itself backwards to reveal its turquoise underbelly. A hard, ebony beak clacks at its center. Matthew glimpses the hungry depths of its maw. Its mouth opens slightly in a bizzare half-smile, as if its excited by the figure before it. Matthew tries to offer a greeting but his throat is dry, his body caught in the depths of the monster’s gaze. He can’t pull away, but, he realizes with a pang, he doesn’t want to. 

The creature drops its belly back into the surf, the disrupted waves washing over Matthew’s footpaws. The wet touch on the back of his leg pushes him forward again, and Matthew takes another tottering step, close enough to the creature to touch. The water comes up to his ankles, and then his knees. He can see movement rippling beneath the waves like serpents. 

Something wet and slippery coils around first one ankle, then the other. Matthew squeaks in surprise, expecting seaweed. 

Instead, two slender tentacles wind around his legs. 

Matthew looks back up to the creature--a kraken, he realizes--in shock as its golden eyes narrow with hunger or lust or fury. His sigil gives a hot twitch of interest. 

The coils around his ankles begin to wind their way up his legs. The tips of the tentacles are whisper-thin and slimy with algae and their own secretions. Tiny suckers latch onto his body, small points of pressure that feel like hard, possessive kisses. His voice stutters in his throat as they move up his thighs, squeezing his legs. 

A third tentacle reaches up to stroke his wrist and Matthew jerks away, trying to pull the winding tentacles from his legs. His sigil flashes in disappointment. 

He grips the end of one tentacle in both paws, peeling it from his body. Like a flashing cobra, the tentacle springs into action, unwinding from Matthew’s leg to twine itself around his wrist. With a yank, it pulls him forward into the water. 

His head goes under; sea water fills his mouth as he gasps instinctively. Matthew sputters and thrashes against the tentacles wrapping his wrist and leg. The tentacle around his wrist pulls him sharply upwards; his head breaks the surface. 

He drags in a breath, wet, rattling coughs wracking his slight frame as he tries to expel the water from his lungs. The violence of his coughs makes him stumble, light headed, into the kraken’s side. The creature’s flesh is wet and fragrant with salty heat. 

Matthew puts out one paw to catch himself on the beast’s side. The texture of its flesh is rubbery and strangely soft. Although the kraken does not speak, Matthew feels a rush of feeling from the kraken: a hunger, a want. His sigil pounds against his belly insistently.

Despite the longings of the mark, fear pulses through him, the sheer sharp terror at the size and simmering aggression of the beast before him. His footpaws feel rooted in place, the wet sand as thick and inescapable as cement. 

“Wh-what do you want?” he manages to stammer, pulling his paw from the kraken’s side. He doesn’t try to pull the tentacles away. Instead, he stands very still, hoping that they’ll lose interest in him. 

The kraken doesn’t reply with a voice, but with its body. The creature’s form seems to ripple with ferocious agility. A half-dozen previously unseen tentacles erupt from the waters, spraying Matthew with a foam of seawater. They lurch towards him with surprising speed, winding like snakes around his wrists, his biceps, his ankles, his thighs. 

Matthew shouts wordlessly, struggling against the weight of the limbs holding him still. He can feel their sinewy strength curling around him, suckers pressed roughly against him. The friction burns his skin but he continues to thrash, exhausting himself in their hold. 

Not satisfied to simply hold him, the tentacles begin squirming over the exposed spaces of his body. One twines around his throat, deceptively gentle as it cups his jaw. He raises his chin to try and pull away, but the tentacle tightens like fingers, not enough pressure to choke, just enough to be uncomfortable. 

At the same time, the tentacles around his biceps loop around his arms to move over his heaving chest, streaking his fur with slime. Matthew’s breath hitches as they wiggle across his chest in unison, pressing against his peach-pink nipples.

Matthew gives a broken-off squeal, his nipples peaking under the touch. The tentacles pause, curious. They bunch and coil in on themselves until two suckers appear in their folds, the size of large coins. Greedily, they latch onto Matthew’s nipples. 

“Nnn!” the mouse gasps, head thrown back. The pressure on his nipples is intense, the fierce suction enough to bring hot, prickling tears to his eyes and a lance of pleasure up through his body. He shivers at the touch, his cock stirring against the flimsy fabric of his loincloth. 

Wriggling with interest, the tentacles move close to his groin, pushing past the blue linen. Matthew squeaks as the very tip of the kraken’s tentacle kisses over his inner thigh. His leg twitches as if he can’t decide if he wants to squeeze his thighs together or let them fall wide beneath the touch. 

The tentacle wanders higher, moving smoothly over Matthew’s pinking cock. The little mouse gives a sharp moan at the touch, the suckers pulling at the sensitive flesh. As the tentacle roams the short length of his prick, another sneaks up Matthew’s side to slip under the band of his loincloth. The wiggling limb gives a jerk, ripping the fabric away to leave Matthew completely exposed. 

Instinctively, Matthew tries to draw his legs up to protect himself, but the weight of the tentacles has him held fast. He can only look down at his rapidly-hardening cock, shame and arousal warring in his belly. The tentacle writhes around him, coiling around the head of his cock. Pre dribbles from his slit, wetting its suckers. As if scenting his arousal, the tentacle begins to squeeze his cock like a great fist, the pressure just shy of painful. Matthew drags in a shuddering breath, watching as the writing coils jerk him off. 

He doesn’t notice the tentacle slipping up the back of his thigh until the tip of it is circling his tight hole like a broad, questing thumb, wide as two of Matthew’s fingers.  

“No!” he yelps, thrashing in his bonds as he clenches his little hole. His pucker is closed tight, his ass trembling with the effort. 

The tentacle ignores his frighted pleas, its tip finding the clenched center of his tailhole. With a hard, uncaring push, the tip forces itself in. Matthew’s hole opens roughly, the clench of his anus wrenched apart.The slippery flesh of the tentacle does little to ease the intrusion, Matthew’s hole burning with pain as he’s worked open on an inch of squirming wetness. 

“A-ahh!” he wails, tears springing to eyes. The tentacle bunches up against his ass, trying to shove more of itself inside. Matthew whimpers as another inch presses into his passage. He bears down desperately, trying to force it out of him, but the tentacle is drawn deeper into his hole, wriggling in his tight passage. 

The tentacles around his legs give a powerful lurch, spreading his legs wide. His hole stretches, another painful inch of tentacle forcing itself into his body. As Matthew squirms and cries under the tentacles’ assault, another tentacle creeps along his thigh, up over his balls to squirm up the cleft of his ass, spread apart by the grip on his legs. 

The curious tentacle winds around its brother until it reaches Matthew’s pink, swelling rim. It circles his rosette once, marveling at the heat of the mouse’s swollen flesh. Matthew’s hole twitches under its ministrations and the tentacle squirms with pleasure, seeking out that hot, wet space that the mouse had tried to hide. 

Its thinner than its brother and manages to force its tip inside with just a whisper of effort. Matthew bites his lip as he’s spread a half-inch wider, a short stab of pain rushing through him. The tentacle does not move deeper into his passage, but instead hooks around his rim. With a sinewy wiggle, it begins to pull. 

Matthew cries out in pain as the tentacle pulls his hole wide, stretching it. The tentacle already inside of him follows suit, actually pulling out a couple inches so it can better hook his rim, pulling in the opposite direction. Matthew’s hole is pulled wide, the stretch burning all the way down his legs. His thighs and hole quiver. Although his rim is stretched wide, his passage flutters and clenches, trying to close and tighten against the exposure. 

He gasps for breath against the pain of the stretch, his nipples pressed up into the kraken’s suckers as his chest rises and falls. The tentacle around his throat makes another loop around the slender column of his neck, its tip stroking Matthew’s chin to slip into his mouth like a gentle fingertip. It tastes like bitter salt and violets. 

The wiggling tip slides over his tongue and Matthew closes his mouth obediently around it, suckling at the tip. He keeps his teeth parted, tongue working over the length of the tentacle like he’s sucking cock, applying pressure to its slick underside. His tongue laves over it, relishing the taste.  

Under his attention, the tentacle grows in his mouth like an eager cock, stiffening along his tongue. Matthew slurps at its length as it fills his mouth, pushing in deeper. As he sucks, the tentacle squirms in pleasure, suckers popping out along its underside. Matthew works his tongue between them, tickling the sensitive flesh. The very tip of it kisses the back of his throat and Matthew gags sharply, pulling away to catch his breath. 

As if offended, the tentacle tightens punishingly around his throat, its length forcing itself deeper down the mouse’s throat. With an inexorable push, three inches of the tentacle shove into the wet, trembling opening of his throat, spreading the tight passage wide. Matthew tries to gasp for breath around it, the thick heat and humidity of the salt-flower taste making him choke. 

The tentacle is undeterred, continuing to push its way into him. Matthew tries to drag in a breath through his nose, managing a short, shallow gasp. Under the tight squeezing of his throat, the tentacle gives another wriggle of pleasure, a fresh set of suckers opening along its length. They fasten themselves along the inside of Matthew’s throat in little pinches of heat, clinging to the walls as it squirms down into his gullet. 

His throat bulges faintly around the width of the tentacle as it crawls down the confines of his throat. He tries to inhale and earns nothing but a lungful of ocean-scent and hot, empty air. His cheeks redden as he struggles for breath, his mouth opening wider as he tries to breathe around the tentacle. 

Instead, the tentacle jams itself in further, the widening breadth of the limp straining at the limits of Matthew’s mouth. 

“Mmmph!” His eyes widen, bloodshot, as his lungs seize up. His vision begins to soften and blur, head spinning. His body feels, heavy, the tentacles coiling around his limbs a nearly-overwhelming weight. 

Just as his head begins to loll back on the verge of unconsciousness, the tentacle in his throat withdraws. Oxygen floods back into his lungs, almost dizzying in its suddenness. His whole body trembles at the rush, ears ringing, face flushing. He gasps loudly, his breaths ragged.    

The tentacle that had been fucking into his throat mere moments ago uncoils from his throat, standing erect before him like a cobra waiting to strike. It traces a line down Matthew’s lithe body, trailing the boy’s saliva and its own secretions. It dips down over his breastbone and the flat span of his stomach before it presses up against the dully-pulsing sigil sparkling yellow-gold in the sun. 

At the touch, the mark flashes ruby-red, a surge of brilliant heat that wrenches a cry of pleasure from the mouse’s throat. Salamand’s mark hums and burns, the contract between the mouse and the monster sealing together with a lingering throb of need. Matthew groans and whimpers, his flagging cock standing up once more, his nipples so tight and sensitive he feels that he could come from the suction on them alone. 

As he shakes and gasps, a third tentacle slips up between his legs, rubbing over his perineum before reaching his strained, stretching hole. Following its brothers, the tentacle hooks around his rim, pulling his hole wide as it works him open. Matthew’s passage flutters and tries uselessly to clench. 

He sags in his bonds, already exhausted as the tentacles wind around his limbs, seeming to move over every part of him except for what he wants most. His hole aches to be filled, his stretched-wide rim quivering with need. He needs to be filled, his empty passage burning as he clenches on nothing, tailhole winking to the air. 

“Please,” he whispers wantonly. “I need to be filled--gods! I’m so empty, I need you inside of me--ahh!”

Matthew shrieks aloud as another tentacle surges up between his legs. It’s far wider than the others, its blunt tip nearly the width of Matthew’s fist. Thick, bluish slick runs down its length from a slit in the tip, some sort of seminal fluid. The arm itself extends from the lowest part of the kraken’s underbelly, protected by dozens of squirming arms, hidden like a long, hungry cock. 

The fat end of the kraken’s hectocotylus lunges at the stretched opening of Matthew’s needy hole. Despite the efforts of the thin tentacles to prepare him, the tip of the kraken’s phallus catches at the mouse’s opening. Matthew whimpers in pain as it jabs against his rim, straining to shove past the smaller, stretching limbs. He feels his asshole wink with the effort, his rim as hot and swollen as the head of his cock. 

The hectocotylus thrusts forward against the mouse’s too-tight opening, shoving in with a short, brutal stab. Matthew screams, ass stretched impossibly wide as the head of the tentacle stuffs itself a finger’s length into his tight passage. It feels as though he’s being split in two on the massive shaft of it. His hole throbs in hot, straining agony. 

He gives a short, hiccuping sob of pain as the tentacle writhes in his ass, shoving itself in deeper. “Ah!” he screams as the suckers cling to the walls of his passage. They pull at the sensitive, swollen flesh, resisting as the hectocotylus thrusts forward. 

“It’s too much! It won’t fit!” 

The tentacles ignore his protesting cry; the kraken gives a full-body shudder of pleasure at the pressure of Matthew’s channel on its phallus. The movement sends the tentacle squirming deeper inside of him, slamming up against his swollen-fat prostate. Matthew howls at the intensity of the pressure, his ass held open as he shakes. Waves of pleasure surge through him in short, aching throbs, his hole winking against the assault. 

Matthew gasps as the thick, pulsing tentacle pushes against the confines of his hole, stretching him impossibly wider. His hole feels like it’s being split open, the small, stretching tentacles struggling to keep his entrance held open. His rim trembles under the pressure.      

The hectocotylus bulges and squirms as it tries to force more of itself into his hole. Matthew’s opening squeezes against it, preventing the wriggling tendril from plunging deeper into the mouse’s abused passage. Matthew whimpers and protests, but the kraken’s tendril is undeterred. It gives a long, steady press, its strength and girth burning against Matthew’s swelling rim. 

With a hard, sudden jerk, the tentacle thrusts itself upward, trying to force itself inside. The tentacle is so strong that it actually lifts Matthew into the air, his footpaws dangling as he is suspended, only the swollen tightness of his hole keeping him from being fully impaled on the tentacle filling his ass. 

The weight of gravity pulls on his hole, forcing him to spread wider still. Matthew quivers and pants, pulling at the tentacles around his arms, trying to break free. In response, the tentacles around his ankles tighten, the suckers leaving raw red marks as they cling. With a jerk, they tug his legs down and apart, forcing him down on the tentacle opening his hole.   

Matthew throws his head back with a hoarse cry as he’s split open, the tentacle forcing itself into the excruciating tightness of his passage. The pressure on his prostate is unbearable; his dick twitches at the pleasure and pain. His cock is fat and red, so oversensitive that even the splash of the seawater is too much, the hot jabs of sensation making his ass clench around the enormous breadth of the tentacle fucking him deeper and deeper. The sigil screams with need. 

The mouse gives a long and desperate wail, his tail thrashing as the tentacle wiggles inside of him, tearing him wide as he’s pulled down harder against its thrusting length. His footpaws kick uselessly for purchase, only serving to pull him down harder against the throbbing heat of the tentacle wrenching him open. Slick melds with the blood from his torn rim, making an angry violet froth that rings Matthew’s fucked-wide hole. It drips between his spread legs, splashing into the seafoam below. 

The great, indigo body of the beast rears up on its hindmost tentacles, the rush of movement sending the tentacles in Matthew’s ass writhing and squirming. The mouse cries out at the pain as his rim tears further, the fat central tentacle jamming itself in deeper. His stomach cramps and clenches as the broad end of the tendril presses up into his guts, his belly protruding outward under the enormous head of the kraken’s phallus. 

As the kraken shows the bright blue expanse of its belly, its beak opens wide. Matthew can see the slender length of its tongue flicking in hunger. Its tentacles begin to gather close to its body, carrying Matthew along, still impaled on the kraken’s vast, grasping limbs. The mouse yelps at the pulling, twisting intensity inside him, seawater splashing his tense, naked form as he is dragged into the deeper waters. He can feel the heat of the kraken’s breath on his aching cock, burning with need. 

The kraken gives a hungry, hissing snarl, curling its tentacles close. Its beak snaps needily, intentions clear. Matthew’s sigil pulses with desire. 

The kraken’s tongue unravels, lolling from its mouth in a wet, hungry slip, reaching out to stroke over Matthew’s chest. The boy whimpers at the warm, rough touch as he is pressed harder against the creature. He’s so close to its beak that he can see his pleasure-dazed expression reflected in the shine of its beak. 

The black sheen warps as the kraken’s beak opens fully. Matthew can see into the velvet red depths of its opening throat. Fear seizes hungrily in his belly, making his ass clench around the slick, fat length of the tentacle squirming in his depths. 

The tentacle jabs upward fiercely, rending his hole as it pierces deeper into his body. Matthew cries out as the kraken’s member splits his rim, blood and slick pouring from his hole as Matthew sobs and struggles. He is forced upward, high into the heated space of the kraken’s open beak. 

The tendrils binding his arms slip away, leaving bright red marks. Matthew casts his paws out before him in a futile attempt to catch himself. The tentacle in his ass jams itself up again, the the thick row of suckers wrenching his hole apart. Matthew’s entire body is shoved forward as the kraken’s phallus gives a vicious twist inside his ass, slamming him down against the beast’s massive, slick tongue. 

He hits chest-first, the hot, wet pressure of the kraken’s tongue almost unbearable against his bare nipples. 

The tendrils around his legs retreat, allowing his aching-hard cock to touch against the heat of the kraken’s mouth. He gives a harsh moan of pleasure, rutting against the beast’s tongue like he’s in heat, the sigil screaming against his stomach. His balls are so tight against his body that he feels like he could come in an instant, the tender flesh of his cock alight with the agony of pleasure. 

Deep inside him, the tentacle gives a long, throbbing pulse, its entire length convulsing in the tight space of his ruined hole, his passage, his aching stomach. Matthew cries out weakly, back arching as the tentacle pulses again. 

Warmth fills his body as hot, thick cum begins to pump from the slit in the kraken’s hectocotylus. The seed rushes into his body, distending his stomach outward in a harsh, painful swell, the sigil stretched around the enormous weight of the beast’s cum. Matthew howls at the too-hot pain of it, his paws grasping for purchase, his hole flexing and winking under the assault. Weak purplish dribbles leak from the torn edges of Matthew’s hole, splattering onto the creature’s tongue. 

Heat blasts over Matthew as the kraken releases a deep, sated breath, the tentacle in the mouse’s ass going weak and limp. As if exhausted by its efforts, the tentacle pulls itself out slowly, trailing cum. Matthew’s ass clenches, trying desperately to hold onto the sweetly painful intrusion splitting him wide. The ribbed tentacles draw long, agonizing streaks of blood from the depths of his passage as they pull free, cum pouring from his passage. 

With a final, harsh pull, the tentacle slips free, leaving Matthew’s asshole gaped wide and wanting. His legs stay wide, cum wet between them as he tries to squirm against the tongue, the pressure on his cock so intense that he can barely breathe, his lungs filled with the scent of the kraken. 

The tongue flexes against him; Matthew gives a broken-off groan of pleasure at the sensation, his voice going high with shock as the dimness of the kraken’s mouth plunges into black and its beak snaps closed behind him. 

With a toss of its enormous head, the kraken’s tongue rolls back towards its throat, sending Matthew tumbling back, slipping on the cum still running from his gaping hole. His paws try to cast out and slow his descent, but they catch on nothing but the slick interior of the kraken’s mouth. His ass pounds with agony as the tongue ruts up against him. 

Matthew gives a juddering cry of pain, his legs too weak to hold himself back against the relentless pull of gravity. The kraken gives another shake of its head and Matthew is thrust into the back of its throat, the confines of its mouth closing around him as he slides towards the slick, heated depths. 

He is yanked into the tightness of the kraken’s gullet, the tension of the passage barely giving way as his feet, then his calves, and then his thighs are pulled deeper into the kraken’s hungering throat. He screams aloud as he is swallowed up to his waist, the tight walls pressing his aching cock against his belly, squeezing against the rim of his ruined hole. 

He tries to buck away at the pain of it, but the long, slow pull of the beast’s gullet drags him down, his nipples gives a flash of pleasured pain as the passage closes around his chest, and then his shoulders. 

The kraken’s throat closes around his neck and finally, in a blast of heat and pressure, his head is forced down, his entire body caught tight in the heated, quivering press of the kraken’s gullet. He tries to cry out, but his voice is lost to the airless heat of the beast’s throat. He chokes on nothing, the close, heavy air like trying to breathe in rain. 

He tries to wriggle inside the tightness of the kraken’s throat, his paws struggling to push against the confines of the passage, but the power of its muscles holds him fast. Everything is hot and tight around his body. He is constricted so tightly that he feels cocooned, his own body heat aching at the limitations of space. His cock pulses against the pressure of the kraken’s walls. 

Matthew wastes a half-breath whining as he cants his hips up, humping against the too-tight wall of the kraken’s throat. With every thrust, the kraken’s throat squeezes up against his ass, pushing heat and saliva into his throbbing hole. Matthew stutters in pleasure at the dual sensations, rutting the head of his cock against the slick flesh before him. 

His hips ache from the effort of fucking against the kraken’s tightening gullet, his lungs burning for air. He feels lightheaded and dreamy, he’d be seeing spots if he could see at all, the heat and urgency of need a caged bird in his chest, pounding against him for relief. His body feels like the froth on the ocean, floating and detached but for the anchor of begging pleasure tearing through his cock and hole. 

He can feel his mouth fall open in a silent, agonized howl as he ruts desperately against the sides of the beast’s throat, one paw managing to wriggle behind himself to jam four fingers into his needy hole. The constriction of the passage forces his hand in deep, the ache in his wrist barely registering in the haze of need and dizziness. The tips of his fingers are pressed hard against his ruined, swollen prostate, the pressure unbearable. 

With a last, desperate jerk of his hips, the mouse’s reddened cock spasms in a jet of cum, his balls trembling with the force of it. His vision goes white as his body tries to arch against the walls holding him close, the cum painting his chest as his shaking cock is caught between the creature’s throat and his cum-white stomach. His cock aches, spent and limp, his paw still caught in his own hole as his head drops back, eyes rolling back in his head as his breath gives one final hitch before stilling completely. 

His feet dangle bonelessly, his form completely motionless, slick with their intermingled cum. The kraken’s body shudders as its throat flexes, dragging the mouse’s limp, unconscious form deeper into its gullet, tasting the boy’s cum in its throat, its hunger sated in the bitter delight of pleasure and death.