Fetishes: soapy bath, nonhuman, blowjob, titjob, ass, tentacles
Tags: Cancer, Kraken, one guy/two girls, monster girl encyclopedia, mamono, monster girls, mild satire
Mark walked down to the water for his usual fishing trip. The weather sucked, but complaining about it wouldn't feed him. Living near the sea meant that although it was very easy to find food you could eat, but it didn't leap out of the water towards you. You had to go there, take a rod, reel and line, and steal something from the neighbours or pick it out of the sand to bait your hook.
He tugged out his pack from the jalopy he had come to the beach on, pulling his rod and hook out. Attaching the hook to the end, he checked the rod to see if it was working. He tried tugging on it when it didn't roll down. Feeling around the handle, he realised he'd forgotten to fix the reel. He cursed, spitting out the wad of tobacco in his mouth on the ground. He groped in his bag for the reel. Finding it, he whipped it out and placed the central spool carefully on the rod, then wound the wire around it. It was done after several minutes of grunting, swearing, and throwing rocks into the sea. He usually forgot to put the wire around the reel after a good night's sleep on Friday, since the only fishing he usually had time for was on weekends after working at the factory cleaning what others had caught. He sorted them out as well, although usually inaccurately, heedless to the complaints of his coworkers who insisted he get it right. He told them he could catch whatever fish they wanted as long as it was about quantity and not quality, or even a different sort of fish.
He stood near the water and flung his rod towards the sea. It hit the water with a splash, the bob bouncing on the surface. He picked out his phone and hit 'Play' on his music player, which was a mix of mixtapes, dubsteps, reggae, and electronica. He actually enjoyed the ones with some crude language in them, but not too much. A bit of swearing and sucking sounds sufficed, not a full porn studio in audio form. Unless he was actually wanting to listen to dirty talk, which was in the midst of actual sex.
He waited for five minutes, but nothing bit on the hook. Perplexed, he drew it in slowly and noticed nothing on the end. He took out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he contemplated what to do. This hadn't happened before, but there was a first time for everything. He tossed his hook after baiting a fresh worm on it, rubbing his forehead while he thought about how much longer he'd have to wait for a catch. If it took longer than a —
There was a tug on his line.
Mark jerked himself upright to alertness and started to reel it in. It felt heavy. He frowned in puzzlement as he tried to work out whether he was pulling in a wicker basket full of stones, which seemed to be a common theme for fishermen in the Arabian Nights. Dismissing the idea as a childhood nightmare, he dug his heels into the soft sand of the beach and pulled harder. His catch budged slightly, but not enough. He tensed his muscles, flexed his legs, and gave the rod a yank which send him stumbling ass-first into the sand. The bait and rod flew into the air, breaking with the force applied.
Mark stared in dismay at the broken rod. His paycheque wasn't small, but it was coming next week and he'd spent everything on cheap booze. If he couldn't fish now before it was — wait, what was that he'd caught?
He saw an enormous crab on the beach. It defied normal expectations of what a 'crab' was suppose to be. It was almost his height, and had a reddish-orange tint to it's upper half. Kind of reminded him of Kingler when he used to trade Pokémon cards, but he was sure this one was too big to train.
He walked around it, knocking on the carapace to check what it was like. It felt firm and hard to touch, and made a sound almost like glass when he used a fingernail to tap it. He noticed the huge pincers which could've grabbed a person and crushed them like a twig. Those were scary, but if this one was suffocating a little from being out of water, it wasn't a problem.
He walked around to the front and looked carefully into its face. The carapace had an oval face looking out at him, smiling a little as if he was the one she had been waiting for. Mark smiled back and took one of the pincers in his hands. They felt somewhat heavy, but the points weren't sharp. The compound eyes of the crab body separated slightly as the woman inside leaned forwards to kiss his cheek. There was a slight giggle as she withdrew. Mark might have giggled if he was a girl too, but he settled for a soft chuckle and returned to checking her next claw.
It took Mark another thirty seconds to realise what he had seen before he jerked upright. He hadn't been dreaming. He pinched himself and looked again, but it didn't change. He was looking at a woman inside the carapace, and a very busty one.
The cancer stretched and yawned, looking around as if checking for competition. She held up Mark's hands. He noticed that her claws had locked themselves around his wrists. He was hoisted into the air, kicking and writhing. He tried kicking her nose, but it didn't work. He was kept just out of reach of her body. She turned him around slowly, raising her claws. He heard some ripping sounds and a draught of air on his back. The claws went around to his front, shredding his shirt from both ends. It fell off in pieces, his back starting to freeze a little from the chill. He felt two round, soft orbs pressing into his back, rubbing up and down his spine.
'Shhhhh,' whispered the cancer soothingly. 'I'm not here to hurt you, I just thought you'd like a bath after having to fish for your food for this long.'
Mark blinked at her words, before realising what she was implying. 'You ... you watched me ever since I came here?'
'Oh, no,' she said, reaching around to aim one of her open claws at him. Bubbles began streaming out of the depths of a dark hole in her claw which he couldn't see. She moved it up and down his body, the stream of bubbles hitting his bare skin and making invisible energy rise from it. She could see it with her enhanced mamono vision, but he couldn't. She was washing off the stench of other women she could see, thought fortunately for her no other mamono had touched him. 'We moved in here a few weeks ago and watched you come here for fish every day. You looked so hard-working, handsome and without the grumpiness we notice from other people who arrive here. We just had to have you for that very reason, you see.'
Mark leaned back into her soft breasts, noticing that they were rather large for a 'cancerous' mamono. He had seen pictures of her in one of the neighbour's magazines, though, and the DP there had showed something like a lolicon with tiny breasts. The rest was in Japanese kanji around the picture which he'd never learned. 'How come you feel so huge against my back?'
The cancer laughed softly, her pincers clattering noisily while her body shook. 'You probably came across a picture of me somewhere in one of your human inventions, yes? All I can say is that every single mamono is different.'
Something else she had mentioned registered in his head after he had watched her rubbing soapy bubbles across his nipples. She was continually blowing soap on herself, then using her foamy tits to scrub his back. She would lean down or let her legs fold when she had to get to his lower back,. His pants had been shredded minutes before so she could place his leg between those foamy knockers and cover it in bubbles mixed with lukewarm water she was producing out of her pincers. 'One thing ... who else is with you? The one you said you lived here with?'
'Huh? ... said the cancer, looking around,' Oh ... my friend who's spying on you.' She took out a flare from her carapace which curled its claw inwards and handed it to her. She took it in her human arm and tossed it on the beach. The flare lit up, sending a signal several feet into the air.
Mark blinked. 'Where —'
The cancer pulled him back into her arms. 'Stole it from a shipwreck months ago, darling. Don't talk now, just relax.'
She continued to rub his body for a few minutes after that. Running a hand up and down his chest, she used her fingers to rub around his nipples. She heard him moaning when she tugged on this nubs, so she continued doing it. She used her pincers to pin him to her body firmly, her tongue licking across his back. Tasting his skin, she grabbed a tissue from another stolen hoard of picnickers who had set up a table on her when she was buried in the sand to hunt. She wiped her mouth and threw it into the ocean. He still smelled too much like other girls, so it wouldn't do.
She raised her hands into the air and moved them around in a heart shape. Her pincers twitched and bubbles streamed out into the air all around Mark. They popped on his skin and left foam flecks across his shoulders and back, which she began massaging into him. The bubbles formed a perfect heart around Mark, enveloping him in soapy goodness. She used her human hands to bathe him, reaching into the sea as well as allowing water to emerge from her carapace to spray him. He took it as a game though, amusingly enough, and started to splash her back with a mixture of water and sand. She restrained him using her pincers once more, then let the stream of water and bubbles envelop him completely. He leaned back on her huge breasts, letting lethargy wash over him. The cancer kissed his forehead, moving her mouth down to the bridge of his nose and cheeks while she washed him. They remained like this for a while, her breasts working like a sponge and his arms rubbing against her breasts, stomach, as well as running up and down her back while she pushed her boobs into his face and chest, making them foam.
There was a slapping sound behind him. He tried to get up and turn around, but the cancer's arms were too strong to get out of. He felt something grab his pants and start tugging on them, almost snapping the belt buckle.
