Ichthyrotica Pt. 02 - Conclusion

Ichthyrotica

Conclusion

By The Preve

Thanks to Todger 65 for the edit.

Black faded to indigo, indigo to silvery gray. Amanda and her captors swam upward, cumming as one entity. When they broke the surface she barely noticed, lost in her heat.

Her two captors parted from her with the same sudden surprise of her capture. Tongue and cocks slid out of her body. The two men disappeared with nary a ripple. Amanda was alone, gasping, confused, treading water and leaking cum.

"What?! Who?! What the...?! Who were those men?! And where the fuck am I?!"

The water was unfamiliar; for all she knew it was the middle of the ocean. Her first impulse was to curse, "Those bastards!" And then she saw the moon, "?! God!"

At least she thought it was the moon, or a moon. When she dove into the ocean the moon's position, ripe and full, was as it had always been: a silver disc, half dollar or tea saucer oft exaggerated by poets and romantics.

This moon was ten times as large and so close, every mare on its surface stood in detail. Amanda could almost reach out and touch it. "Impossible!" she gasped.

The silver glow it cast over the ocean was fairytale beautiful, akin to etching chrome across obsidian. "I'm not in the cove...or am I?" A silvery line of beach, brighter than any seen before, beckoned. Beyond the beach, silhouetted against the dark starry sky, was a shadow line of cliffs, unfamiliar and forbidding.

Amanda glanced around. "It's the only land in sight girl. I better go in before those...men come back." The thought of their return brought out strange feelings. Amanda was shocked at the ambiguity of her thoughts. She was outraged, violated, had every intention of finding the nearest cop once ashore, yet, "Why am I still wet?"

She strode ashore onto the soft, white sand and saw a sight that brought a gasp to her lips. The sound disturbed her for the fact that only part came from fear. The other feeling was something undefined but unsettling. "They're here!"

Two sets of footprints led away from the sea. The soft surf was slowly erasing them. Amanda saw they tracked across the sand to a cleft between two black rocks.

Common sense offered advice, "Head down the beach, find a way to civilization, and get the cops. Maybe they can track the footprints before the tide comes in." But someone else also spoke in her ear. She didn't know who; Mister Reckless, Mister Curiosity, Mister Foolish, or (she didn't want to admit it) Miss Lust but that someone said, "Follow the prints yourself, see were they go, and then find the cops."

Amanda debated the two options before making a decision. "If I'm careful and they don't see me, I might find where they're staying." Then she giggled, "I feel like Nancy Drew."

Following the tracks was easy. Amanda, however, was struck by the odd shape of the footprints. She didn't see any indication of toes in the imprints. "So they wore flippers." It didn't surprise her. "Maybe they came from the yacht. They watched me dive and came after me."

Mr. Dull did mention he did occasional skin diving but gave it up as too dangerous. Amanda dismissed him as a culprit. "Too bold and audacious for him. He may be dull but I'll give him his decency."

The cleft in the rocks revealed itself as a cave. "No, not a cave," she thought. "It looks like a tunnel, maybe a passage."

The cave vaulted high above her head. The walls seemed made of pure obsidian. Soft, white sand made up the floor. At the end of the tunnel, a faint glow reflected off the walls. Amanda was fascinated. The nearly magical effect converted her from Nancy Drew to Alice.

She crept along the tunnel, following the glow, hoping not to catch up to her assailants...or so she convinced herself. The glow maintained a low glimmer as she approached, drawing her as a moth.

Amanda became aware of a scent, musky, wet, faint at first, growing stronger as she continued through the tunnel. The scent brought forth hidden feelings. She started to breathe heavily. Warm sweat beaded on her skin, moisture between her legs. "Something's odd," she thought. "I better turn back, let the cops handle it." But her legs continued to move forward.

She put her hand against her breast, feeling the heartbeat. "Are my nipples hard?" she asked. Her tit indented the palm of her hand. Closer to the end of the tunnel she came. The tunnel curved until it stopped at the entrance. A boulder, created from volcanic glass, partially blocked the way. Amanda padded up and peered over, and saw the source of the glow.

The tunnel opened into a circular vault, open to the sky. The bright moon and stars shone upon the snow white sand floor. High stone walls of black obsidian rose into the jeweled night.

Set within the white sand was a circular pool resembling a shallow bowl. Black water sat within the bowl, mirroring the stars with such perfection as if a piece of the sky rested before her.

Amanda marveled at the sheer otherworldly beauty of this natural formation. A place this wondrous could not be secret. People had to know. "So why have I never heard of it?" she wondered.

Tempting as it was to explore further, Amanda knew the time was past to look for the authorities, but when she turned the path was blocked.

They'd crept behind her, soundless. Amanda gasped, startled. There were five. The shadowed tunnel hid most of their features but Amanda knew these men were companions to her kidnappers. "My God! Their eyes! They're so...blue!"

The astounding feature was the only detail standing out on their faces. Amanda could not discern noses, mouths, or ears. Five pairs of glowing blue eyes, blue as china saucers, bluer than Elijah Wood, gazed at her.

Amanda was surrounded quickly. They gave her no time to pick up a rock to defend herself. Two grasped her arms with the same strength as her assailants. The other three pushed the rock from the tunnel entrance. Amanda, struggling, was dragged into the vault.

In the glowing moonlight, Amanda finally saw her captors in full detail. Years later, she would recall that moment, never understanding why the sight did not cause her to scream.

"Gasp! You're not human!"

****

Years ago, when Amanda was in college, she watched a movie; a low budget, ugly thing about a seaside community terrorized by mutant fishmen, who killed the men and raped the women. Amanda hated it and quickly grew to hate the soon-to-be ex-boyfriend who'd dragged her to the trashy theater. I guess I'm in the movie now.

They stood tall, like sculpted statues of black marble; so they looked in the moonlight. Amanda later found their color to be a sleek dark green. The "men" displayed an otherworldly beauty which drew another soft gasp from Amanda; not that they could be recognized as human.

Other than ethereally blue eyes, their faces displayed few manlike features: no noses but small bumps with two near indiscernible slits for air; a suggestion of a mouth with lip-like impressions, wide but flat, like a tattoo against the skin.

Their ears were small, like seashells, flat against their heads. Their bodies were hairless, as Amanda noted earlier. Their skin glowed, smooth and slick, whether from sweat, seawater, or a strange body oil Amanda knew not.

They were well-formed with streamlined muscular bodies. Swimmer's bodies! Amanda realized, shocked, but their cut forms shamed many of the male swimmers she used to ogle and admire in her competitive years. She also came to the realization these creatures' bodies were built, in literal terms, for swimming, from the smooth, dolphin-like skin to the sleek shapes with little variance. The lack of a nose, the flat ears . . . everything is meant to enhance speed underwater, Amanda marveled.

Feelings clashed within her mind. The two who kidnapped her to this world, and it was most definitely another world given its impossibly large moon, were among these "men".

But how did they do it? And what do they want me for?

Along with the questions came fear. What will they do to me when they're done? What will they do period?

Unbidden, a thought slithered into her head; thoughts of sharks, piranhas, man-eating sea monsters from B-movies, blood in the water. She shook her head. If they'd wanted, they'd have eaten me in the ocean.

Lingering traces of outrage walked through her head as well. The circumstances of her abduction could not be ignored. Along with the outrage, though, marched a compelling curiosity.

The otherworldly beauty of the creatures' sculpted bodies was fascinating but a persistent question remained. How big are they?

Her experience in the ocean only presented a hint of her captors' cock size but Amanda had not seen them in full. Her eyes panned down to a sight which brought forth another, "Gasp! Fuck!"

Amanda's dating life, like many other women her age, was reasonably active if not spectacular. She could count the number of long-term relationships on the fingers of one hand, plus a couple of one-nighters.

As such, she'd experienced her share of cocks, of varying lengths and girths. The longest she'd ever seen, for example, was on a business major she'd dated for all of two seconds in college: eight inches at full mast, three inches thick. It felt good between her thighs and the boyfriend performed well enough. Unfortunately, the man's character was not up to his sexual prowess. She had enough problems making the Olympic team than dealing with a controlling, braggadocio, cheating, egomaniac.

The memory of the ex's cock was a brief flash as it, along with her eyes, took in the almost impossible display dangling from the "man" before her. Amanda's memory took one look, put its hands between its legs, and scampered away, emasculated, into a deep dark corner, never to be seen again.

Oh! Fuck! I've never seen one so . . . so . . . It's impossible!

It was difficult to accept two of those things had recently been inside her. The cocks these creatures sported looked too long and thick to fit. The feel of them against the walls of her front and back tunnels, while they stretched, did not imply the thickness on display. Such cock flesh shamed porn stars.

They were as perfect in shape and form as a sculptor could carve erotically. They hung from their hairless groins, patterned with throbbing, pulsing veins. Their testicle sacs were smooth and round like ripe peaches. The ends were rounded like mushroom caps.

Such erotic perfection fascinated Amanda but the lengths proved more shocking; the smallest easily came to the knees. The size of the men themselves made their natural endowments even more impressive.

The one standing before her, Amanda estimated at a six foot height, 6.1 maybe. The other to his side looked slightly taller by three or four inches. The two who held her arms were taller still. The fifth man established to Amanda a general height of six plus feet among all. She had to call these creatures men.

They exuded an aura overwhelmingly male, from their bodies' chiseled perfection to the strength displayed holding her captive. She even detected a faint musk, a near cliche from an Old Spice commercial.

Amanda prided herself on her own strength. She was a former competitive swimmer who exercised regularly; her old stamina was still intact. She could handle herself against overbearing men. She'd done so in the past without trouble.

The present circumstances altered her paradigm. Amanda knew, from her own experience, that the two kidnappers displayed considerable strength bringing her here. The young swimmer could be forgiven in deciding not to struggle. They are too strong and too many. Besides, a deep, hidden curiosity lurked as to their motives.

One of the men let go of her arm and stepped aside. Another immediately grabbed both of her arms and twined his around them. Amanda's arms were wrenched behind her body. The quick, forceful action drew a startled grunt from her mouth.

The man wrapped his legs around Amanda's and wrenched them apart. Her body was forced against his. Once again, a slick groin ground flush against Amanda's ass. The man's tuberous cock slid like a snake over her crack. Her body, from the nape of her neck, through the curve of her spine, down to her round ass, molded into every contour of his body.

The man's warm, rubbery, slickness triggered a reaction in Amanda's pussy, still filled with memory from the oceanic encounter. Oh God! I can't be getting wet, can I? The earlier encounter was not entirely consensual but her body reacted differently.

"I think, in hindsight, the sea men's body oils might have had something to do with it," she told the Stranger. "With everything that came after, I always felt triggered when they touched me. I couldn't think of any other explanation. Really I couldn't think at all."

Her mind conflicted with the yearnings of her body . . . and it was losing. I should be screaming no but what if they don't understand me?

Amanda's bondage took a stranger turn as her captor performed an act of such amazing strength and flexibility, Amanda, looking back, could scarce believe it, even as she related it to the Stranger.

The man bent back . . . back . . . and back, until both leaned at a forty-five degree angle.

Amanda was astonished. God! Such . . . strength!

She was against the man's body, displayed as if on a living platform. Her body glowed faintly in the moonlight with sweat and lingering moisture. Her breasts quivered, her belly trembled with fear and, deep in her mind, some anticipation.

Something was about to happen; something was going to happen. The strange position caused the muscles in her body to tense, lending an erotic athleticism to her sight. Her position also seemed to spread her legs, and the rose between them, wider.

The sea man before her stepped close; its long cock undulated sinuously. Amanda watched, eyes wide, open and curious. She had no questions; it seemed useless to ask his purpose. It only remained to see.

The sea man placed his webbed hands on her thighs; his touch surprisingly warm. He ran his hands over her inner thighs, where the legs met the torso, and then across her quivering groin.

His touch stimulated strong erotic feelings within Amanda. It wasn't a tickle. It was a stroke, a caress which sent mild shock waves across her warm, moist skin. "Nnnnghn," Amanda moaned faintly.

She experienced mild frustration, wishing for something, anything, to happen, acutely aware of her captor pressing his moist, slick body into hers. "Mmmm," she moaned a second time.

The hands moved down, down to her pink rose. Amanda saw over her heaving breasts, her wet heat, gleaming pink and swollen against the dark fingers stroking her petal. The fingers cycled around her vulva, creating a spasm through her body, and a gasp from her lips.

Her ass clenched, grinding against the groin behind her. The sea man's cock pulsed against her crack and slid along the crevice. He made nary a ripple, otherwise.

Amanda took no notice of her captor's extraordinary physical discipline, focused as she was upon her opposite's hands, whose fingers now found her clit. Her bud, swollen and sensitive, reacted as a trigger to a gun. The subsequent orgasm, while not as intense as expected, was, at the least, greater than the brief earlier climax.

It manifested as a clench of her groin, a ripple through her belly reaching her quaking breasts, and it exited her throat as a soft "Uuuunnngh!"

She allowed herself a brief moment of wonder, afterwards. No male had ever made her cum with just a mere touch. He was not human, yet had brought her further than any other. Amanda wondered what it said about human men and their imaginations.

The sea man stopped and drew back. Amanda responded with a yearning moan, not quite able to bring herself to beg. She was still mindful of her captivity but a lust had awakened, and she wanted more.

The sea man was preparing her for something. It felt like that. Her pussy was wet, ready, and spread open.

"I knew they were about to enter me," she told the Stranger, "I didn't expect what happened next."

In her years of dating, Amanda had seen her share of erections. Her reactions ranged from unimpressed to moderately so. The size of the sea men's cocks promised erections to shame a horse. She wasn't disappointed.

The sea man's cock, however, performed acts demonstrating the otherworldly nature of himself and his kind.

He placed his webbed hands on her hips, watching her impassively. His cock lengthened until its tip nearly touched the sandy floor. The cock then raised itself, sinuously, to hover near Amanda's groin. It swayed and undulated like a boa. Amanda watched, mesmerized.

Nothing ramrod characterized this cock; no stiff wooden pole with throbbing veins. It was fluid and limber; its resemblance to human penises only in the mushroom shape of its glans or faint ivy pattern of veins along its length.

It gleamed with moisture in the moonlight, and other small details were discerned through a moonlit reflection here or there.

Its tip, cock hole beaded with pre-cum, hovered bare millimeters above her lower groin. It slid down to her bud, leaving a thin, syrupy trail on her sweat-slick skin. Amanda's wide open eyes stared, fascinated, at this impossible organ. A vague query, Will it fit?, surfaced briefly, but vanished, dismissed as an intrusion upon the magic wonder of the moment.

The cock tip lingered at her rose; both were moist and ready for the other. The glans came directly against her mons, an almost perfect ring of flesh against her vulva. Its touch, similar to cocks from other lover, yet different. Amanda uttered a soft moan.

There was a sensitivity in her quim she'd never felt before; not a tickle but smooth, like silk against her pussy. The alienness of the cock itself seemed to arouse a lust stunning in its intensity. I'm horny for this thing?

The head pushed in, wetly. Amanda's vulva briefly widened to engulf the mushroom. Her soft flesh enclosed the glans and its band of flesh, then formed a circle around the rest of his cock. Thin, vein flesh, slick with cum and natural oils, slid against each other.

Amanda's tunnel flooded with moisture. Her swollen clit licked the cock's underside, spasming when a throbbing vein or pulsing artery glided over it. Sensitive nerve endings transmitted shocks into Amanda's groin and her belly. She bit her lower lip, grimacing, and rattled a low, "Uuunnngh!" The bulge in her groin, traveling upward, was barely noticed.

Muscles in her ass, groin, and belly clenched and relaxed. Orgasms burst through her body. Amanda moved her hips against the sea man's fingers and ground her ass into the other's crotch.

The sea man plunged further into Amanda's hungry pussy, which devoured its length as if swallowing a thick snake. Her toes curled at her feet. She clenched and relaxed her hands in cycles. She alternated biting her lower lip and flicking her tongue across her upper one.

Amanda wasn't the type for loud, hard sex; no screaming, no profane utterances. She preferred her sex quiet. Quiet, she noticed, was the atmosphere surrounding herself; the soft sounds of the surf, the faint, wet "slurp" of the sea man's flesh winding through her tunnel, and the low, continuous moans lowing from her mouth.

None of the creatures made a sound; neither the one holding her captive, nor the one plumbing her rose, nor the three standing sentry. They stood impassive, noiselessly watching with almost ritualistic attentiveness.

Amanda took in her sea man's stillness. His hips did not move or thrust as a lover's would. The only motion was his impossibly long penis plunging deeper into her body. Amanda, still processing the unique experience, marveled, briefly, at the Herculean stamina of her other captor. The angle he held her at should be impossible to sustain, even for a short minute. Yet, he was stiff as a plank, molded and curved into the contours of her back, and she, flat against him, her knees bent with his.