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TA: KK you need two take a break from 2trangling your bulge and empty your genetiic bladder.
TA: you turn iintwo a nub2lurpiing fuckpod when you get backed up.
CG: WHAT THE GRUBFUCK ARE YOU SPEWING?
CG: I AM NOT “BACKED UP”.
TA: KK ii dii2covered the root of your anger ii22ue2.
TA: you’re 2o full of your own 2punk you’re iin the throe2 of a ragega2m the liike2 of whiich the uniiver2e ha2 yet two 2ee.
CG: WHY ARE YOU DISCUSSING MY GRUB SAUCE, IS IT BECAUSE YOU ARE SICK OF STARING AT YOUR OWN MUTANT MUSTARD SLURRY?
TA: faiiliing two empty your genetiic bladder can kill you you iidiiotiic 2hort FUCK.
CG: THAT SOUNDS LIKE MELODRAMATIC HOOFBEAST SHIT.
TA: fine.
TA: ii will prove iit two you.
TA: iiamfuckiingriight.mod
TA: ju2t watch and learn KK, ju2t watch and learn.
You open the file just to shut Sollux up. The video starts with a bastardized dubstep version of elevator auricular sponge clot horror and the sound pollution that plays before the start of each schoolfeeding lesson. The background is solid black; the title Your Body and You: A Journey to Self Discovery is in a garish rainbow of colors. For fucks sakes, Sollux sent you a health video that he drudged up from the depths of instructional hell. Your cursor hovers over the stop button on the screen as the music fades and the title card transitions to an adult standing next to a diagram of the reproductive system. He looks like a raging douche with his ludicrous triangular shades; hair gelled back into spikes, and shirt with a popped collar. He flashes a smile full of fang before he starts talking. You hit pause and stare at his impossibly sharp pointed horns. They look like they would be great for goring. You want to impale someone on them. Less than a minute in and you’re already developing a caliginous crush on the douchewaffle instructor. Great.
TA: KK?
CG: I’M GOING TO WATCH THIS TO PROVE YOU WRONG.
TA: 2ure you are.
You hit the play button and attempt to pay attention. The instructor begins the lecture with erogenous zones starting at the horns and works his way down to gill slits. You learn more about what Eridan could be doing in his spare time besides polishing his wand than you ever wanted to know. This might just be the most awkward way possible for Sollux to invite you into a threesome with him and Eridan. A mental image of Sollux’s scrawny frame draped over Eridan while he runs his bifurcated tongue across his gill slits starts to form and you try to quash it in vain. You do not need to ruminate on the noises and facial expressions that Sollux could drag out of Eridan, or you.
The instructor moves on to the diagram of the reproductive system. You never thought that you would as thankful as you are to learn about the different glands and the secretions they produce to form the spunk that you were mocking Sollux over earlier. Apparently grub sauce is much more complicated than you give it credit for. There are gametocytes that make the gametes, glands that produce nutrients for the gametes, glands that produce fluids for the gametes to travel in, and glands that the scientific establishment still has no idea what their purpose is, but yet they decided to name them anyways. They also named every single tube that connects all the glands, and no they didn’t call them the tube that connects this to that, they gave them their own special names. Names that make no fucking sense what so ever. Typical highblood hoofbeast shit. Just call something what it is. The instructor finishes up the glands complete with assorted corresponding tubing and moves onto the other internal organs. You nod off when he starts talking about the muscle groups associated with the nook.
You jolt awake to see that your husktop screen is black. Looks like your momentary lapse in consciousness wasn’t as …
“And now for the practical demonstration.”
Your train of thought is violently derailed by what pops up on the screen. And by derailed you mean there are no fucking tracks. The tracks do not exist. The first thing that does pop into your pan when it decides to start functioning once more is that the instructor is an olive blood. You know this because you can see the folds of his exposed nook. His nook is exposed. His. Nook. Is. Exposed. He’s naked, reclining against a curved padded backrest, his legs are spread, and the video recording equipment is well within his personal space. He takes off his ridiculous shades and smirks for the camera.
“The purpose of the following section is to dispel some common myths about masturbation and to give you practical knowledge that you can use in the comfort and safety of your own hive.” The camera pans up to so that only his face is in frame. He isn’t attractive by highblood standards but you feel your bulge awaken none the less. “The first myth that I want to dispel is that masturbation is illegal.” He has a square jaw and golden sclera with hints of amber that you could lose yourself in. “Masturbation is not illegal. It is a well- accepted, yet not well discussed, day to day activity that trolls of all ages across the empire engage in.” His nose looks like it’s been broken twice. “There is no reason for you to be ashamed of a little self- relaxation now and then.” He has a few faint scars on the lower right side of his jaw. “What is illegal is a term called self pailing. Self pailing refers to the practice of filling a filial pail alone and turning it in to the drones as if it were properly filled.” And he has a slight nick on his lower lip. “Self pailing will result in death usually by dismemberment.”
You fantasize about what his lips would look like around a bulge as yours squirms around in your pants. Your interest doesn’t wane in the least despite the fact he’s talking about different ways a drone can kill a troll. His lips might be scarred but you bet they would still be soft.
“Now that I have dispelled a few common myths about masturbation and have dispensed with the empire mandated self pailing speech I have a few pearls of wisdom to impart before you start your own journeys of self exploration. First off I want you to safely experiment. Second I want you to enjoy the process. Third I want you to be knowledgeable enough to have a first pailing experience that is memorable for all the right reasons.” You don’t see his hand travel down to his torso while he’s talking but you know that it does. The camera pans back displaying the instructor in his full debauched glory. He’s propped himself up on one hand while his other idly rubs over his slit, his coated fingers trailing olive over his dark grey skin. This troll is going to be the death of you. You pop the button of your jeans and unzip giving your writhing bulge a bit of relief.
“Remember masturbation is not a race or a competition. Foreplay is not only important with a partner but also with yourself. Take your time. Experiment, find out what turns you on, and what turns you off. What works for some trolls might not work for all and that’s ok. Everyone is different and no matter what other trolls might say, you’re ok too.” You look down at the red soaking through your underwear and for once you’re not hit with a wave of self-loathing. “And if anyone disagrees,” you glance back up to your husktop screen, “tell them that Strydr told them to go self-pail.” He flashes a quick smile and for a moment all is right in the world. You pause the video. You can do this Vantas. No you will do this.
You stand up and peel off your pants and soaked underwear taking care to not toss them on anything too important lying on the floor and then scuttle over to your closet and pull out the barely used bucket you stashed away in a fit of shame. Once the bucket is situated close enough to your chair for your liking, you get comfortable and press resume.
“The majority of trolls will extol the virtues of a nook, but I have something very important to tell you.” You close your eyes and listen to the purring rumble of his voice. “Never underestimate the sensitivity of the skin surrounding your bonebulge. It’s a part of troll anatomy packed with nerve endings that’s often sadly overlooked.” You let a hand slowly slide down your torso to the small mounds of skin around your bulge and slide a thumb over the wet skin, then your fingers. You shiver as you tease the area around your bulge. Your bulge is squirming against your lower torso desperate for attention but it can wait. You’re going to take your time and enjoy every minute of this.
“Once you’ve shown your slit some love and are in the beginning stages of arousal,” you are far from the beginning stages, “move onto the folds of your nook.” You slide your hand down further obeying him. “If you sharpen your claws, do be careful. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I will,” you pant as you touch yourself.
“Good.” Your eyes snap open. He’s curled back farther into the padded backrest supporting himself. One hand is idly tracing the undersides of his grub scars while finger tips of the other are teasing the sopping folds of his nook. He’s looking straight at you. “Only proceed to the next step once you’re slick with genetic material. Internal friction burn isn’t something that I would wish on my worst enemy. Once the folds of your nook are wet,” he holds up his coated fingers to demonstrate, “then you can be sure that your nook is adequately lubricated. When you begin fingering your nook be sure to start with just one finger. There is no need to rush the process. Take your time and be mindful of your claws.” You take his advice and slip a single finger into the wet heat and moan as you rub against your inner walls.
You close your eyes and focus on his voice guiding you through the addition of the second and third fingers. The sweat is rolling down your flushed skin and you could scrap together one flying fuck if your life depended on it. You’re a hot panting mess. One hand is buried in the damp squeakbeast nest of hair clinging to your scalp as you rub at the sensitive new growth at the base of your horns. Your other hand is drench in the candy red grub sauce that’s dribbling down your fingers.
You hear the characteristic clank of a metal bucket and force yourself to look back up at your husktop’s screen. Your hand stills inside you and you use your other to stifle the moan you make as you watch Strydr straddle the upright bucket on his knees. That is not a feat you can replicate. Instead you scoot to the edge of the chair and shove the bucket under where you are precariously perched. You carefully slouch back against the backrest making sure that you stay lined up and will get the majority of your slurry into the bucket and not on your chair.
“I’m sorry to say this, my faithful viewer, but our time is drawing to a close. What I want you to remember when you’re doing what I’m doing right now is to stimulate not only your bulge but also your nook.” He reaches one hand between his legs to his nook and lets his bulge twine around the fingers of his other. He starts stroking slowly stroking his bulge working his way from the root up to the tip and then down again. You mimic the motion, alternating the pressure you apply to your bulge in time with him. His pace starts to quicken as his breathing becomes shallower. “It is important to release internally as well as externally. When you masturbate some of your genetic material will wind up in your genetic bladder and you will need to release it.” He looks up to the camera and grins. “It’s a fact of life. To ensure that you release internally I’m going to teach you a secret.” He wets his lips and slides his fingers further into his dripping nook. He closes his eyes as the hand on his bulge stills. “You’re going to take your longest finger and search for a hard lump of flesh close to the opening of your seed flap along the front wall of your nook, the side closest to your bulge, not your wastechute.” His entire body shivers when he finds it. He opens his eyes panting as he continues. “When you find it brush over it gently at first and then apply the amount of pressure that you’re comfortable with.”
You stop stroking your bulge and reach your middle finger into your nook to search. Your entire body shakes when you rub over the lump. He wasn’t joking when he said brush gently. You bite your lip and whimper when you lightly brush over it again. This is the best secret anyone has told you ever. How the hell did you not know this already? You return to stroking you bulge as you continue to massage the spot in your nook. On screen Strydr looks like he’s close to the edge. He’s breathing heavy and shaking on his knees. His dark grey skin is tinged green and dripping with sweat. His perfectly spiked hair is slicked back. He’s a breathtaking disaster and you can’t help but watch as he falls apart. He screws his eyes shut and grins his teeth together as the fingers he has inside his nook still. He moans and shudders as streams of olive drip down from his nook. He bites down on his bottom lip as he speeds stroking his bulge. You keep match his pace as you watch him bend over the bucket hastily jerking his bulge over the rim. He comes the same time you do.
You sink into the chair. The video finishes playing as you drift in the blissful post orgasm haze. The chittering of crabdad at the door to your room wrenches you out of your pleasant stupor and you survey the damage.
Well at least most of it got in the bucket.
CG: I DIDN’T THINK THAT I WOULD EVER BE SAYING THIS TO YOU.
CG: THANKS NOOKSTAIN.
TA: you’re welcome KK.