[A hard shudder goes through Rye at the sight, at the sounds. At how Hurricane is falling to pieces in his desperation, begging so beautifully, working his cock frantically, milking it of pre, but nit the orgasm he so clearly needs. Its enough to get a hard throb of his cock, fighting to get hard again even after just cumming.]

[He leans forward, kissing along his neck, hands reaching forward to twist and tug on his nipples, the cool glass of the vial pressed to his chest as its held by three fingers.] Don't worry, Hurricane. I'm gonna fuck you, again and again. After all, if your own cum can't leave you a mess, I'll just have to make up the difference.

[Then he takes his hand away.] But first. Vial. [He uncorks it and drinks it down. Its a few moments. Then he gasps, as he feels something familiar and not, and Hurricane feels more weight pressed against him, Rye shuddering and whining as he feels things extending from the base of his spine.]

[The change takes only a few moments and Hurricane can spot them from hus periphery, long, forest green tentacles, with bulbous ends and varrying sizes, with a faint shiny sheen over them.] Oh...that's....really new.