She toys with him.

Leaning back slightly, she twisted her upper body so that she could rest her head on her elbow on the furs next to his hips, something no human could ever be possible of doing.

A clawed hand idly stroked his thigh, around his navel, and rested on his stomach. Drumming her fingers on it, delicately so as not to accidentally stab him with her claws, she watched on with a mildly amused smirk at how his lower half was responding to her tentacles' constant attention. "Such a nice cock you have," she mused, taking hold of it. The tentacles surrendered their prize to their mistress, but unwilling to give up their perch, one tightened around his base, while the other circled around his tip.

Wiglaf's fingers shook and gripped onto her hips tighter. The shuddered groan and following purr, the trembling body, and more liquid flooding into his mouth, spilling out over his cheeks, told him exactly how she interpreted his involuntary reaction.

Her hand glided up and down his shaft, her movements made smooth by her own slimy skin. She gazed almost lovingly at it, admiring how it hard and hot it felt in her hand, and how it reacted to her touch. How it quivered and trembled as she ran her thumb along the thick vein on his undershaft. How it throbbed, angrily and urgently, pushing against her fingers and tentacles' firm grip with every pulse. His cockhead was thick and engorged, the tiny dribbles of his precum leaking from his tip mixing in with her own secretions helping to lubricate her movements even more.

But as she stroked down, her smile turned into a scowl as she brushed against his pubic hair. "Well, this is new. You have never had this before, my love," she muttered, pursing her lips from side to side. Releasing his shaft, which was quickly reclaimed by her tentacles, she ran her palm across his groin, eyes slightly narrowed, as if she was studying it's texture.

Feeling the tentacles on his head relax slightly, Wiglaf thought that the creature's mate was sufficiently distracted. Wriggling his head slowly, he pulled it back away from between her legs. Coughing as quietly as possible, he half-gagged half-swallowed the copious amounts of liquids she had made him drink. He'd believed that he'd drunk about a half-barrel's worth of liquid, and his stomach couldn't take another drop.

Resting his head back, he took a few breaths to try and steady himself, but the tingles of pleasure running up his spine made him groan. Moving his face and jaw, he tried to relieve the uncomfortable cramping of his cheeks. But a disapproving grunt and pressure on his groin made him shoot his head back up. "What are you do-mmMPH?!" he managed to say before tentacles wrapped up his mouth, silencing him.

More tentacles draped themselves onto his body, and pulled towards his face, making his skin tight and taut. He felt warm sticky liquid dribbling onto his groin, which was then spread out and massaged in by deft fingers. "Do not move," came the short command, followed by a hand taking control of his cock again, and the sensation of an edge against his skin.

Sweating profusely, Wiglaf willed every muscle still as she began to relieve him of his pubic hair.

The sounds of slow, deliberate, and diligent scraping filled the lair, only occasionally broken up by heavy nervous breathing. Soon, a quiet, slow, almost meditative humming could just barely be heard. Wiglaf's brow furrowed and his fear gave way to confusion and disbelief. The many tentacles on his body wriggled and rippled, leading him to believe that they were taking away what she was removing, so that she could continue her work without hindrance.

Rolling his eyes, he made the mistake of thinking of how he was going to explain why that part of him was devoid of hair to his wife, and was subsequently punished for that thought by way of many hooks digging into his skin. A muffled wince and quick taps of his fingers against her leg to tell her that her message was received.

But the hooks dig not release their grip on him. A long, slow, drag against his tightened skin ended just at the root of his cock. "That is your final warning," the creature's mate hissed, her voice sharper than the edge of her claw. She circled her hand around, scratching her claw around his base, with just enough pressure to almost cut open the skin, and allow her venom to enter his body. "I am the only thing you should be thinking about, and the only love you have," she snarled. "Am I not?"

With what little movement he had with it, Wiglaf nodded quickly.