Ichthyrotica Pt. 02 - Conclusion

The bulge in her groin inched slowly upward. Amanda moaned, grunting as punctation. "Uuuunnngh! Mmmmnnn! Uk . . . uk . . . uk!"

Her moist pussy bulged around the dark cock, both streaked with moon-shined silver cum.

"It was like I lost everything that made me in control of myself," she told the Stranger. "I was a competitive swimmer once. Everything was about control, of myself, of my body. I was held captive by these . . . men. I was entered and cumming, and not wanting to stop. I couldn't recognize myself . . . and it happened in such a short time."

The sea man's glans reached her cervix. It didn't enter but Amanda felt it right at the entrance. The sea mans testicles began to pulse. The peach-sized ball sacs assumed a pumping motion, like a respirator or balloon. In other circumstances, Amanda would laugh at the sight. Instead she quivered with another orgasm.

The cock expanded inside her. The strain on her pussy caused another moan, "Uuuunnngh!"

Throbbing, pulsating veins on the creature's cock stood in stark relief against its black skin. He's going to flood me.

Liquid heat filled her womb. Amanda tilted back her head, eyes rolled to the whites, and ululated loud and long. Her body convulsed and her belly rippled. It curved outward, smoothing out the bulge from the sea man's cock. She felt no pain, only a mild tickle, like water filling a sack.

"Ooohhhh . . . uck . . . uck . . . gasp!" Amanda grunted before her body settled.

She rested, lost in an erotic daze. A sliding touch to her back alerted the woman to her captor's cock. It slid backwards until his tip touched her back end. Oh, she thought, knowing what was to happen.

It's oil slickened tip slid between her buns with the same ease as under the water. Her subsequent moans followed the voyage of the prehensile cock as it slid inward and upward. They faded to a soft hiss, tiny drops of spit expectorating between her gritted teeth. Sweat poured from her body; her skin gleamed in the moonlight. The two sea men penetrated deeper into her body than any before, human or otherwise.

Amanda's body shocked her with its reaction. The intense, convulsive orgasms surpassed her previous experience.

"I felt like a porn star," she later told the Stranger. "My whole body was in complete convulsion. I couldn't think. It was like I was made of jelly and then, what they did next . . . I still can't believe it."

The sea man's cock reached the door to her large intestine. It could have delved further in but flexed and expanded instead, anchoring against the sides of her rectum like a balloon. It caused no small amount of pain but not intolerable. Amanda grit her teeth and hissed a small moan. She barely noticed her captors repositioning their bodies.

The sea man at her back straightened upright, moving her closer to the one facing her. He let go of her arms briefly before grasping her hips in an iron grip.

Amanda's body, held in place with the sea men's cocks acting as poles, slid against the back sea man as she came closer to the other. The shift in position lifted her body upward. She admitted to the Stranger, "My arms were free. I could have fought, I think. I wasn't quite as captive, at least from the waist up, but I didn't know what they'd do if I did. I didn't think I was on Earth anymore, really. Plus I was kind of curious what would happen next. So I put my hands on the other sea man's shoulders, so my body wouldn't bear down on the cocks inside me. I didn't need much help, really. The other sea man held me by my hips. It was strange, my actions after what came before."

Amanda moved closer, watching the sea man. Her lips were parted, teeth gritted, breath hissing through. This how I sound when I fuck? she asked with detachment. The other three watched, dark statues in the tunnel.

The two sea men moved together, Amanda between them, until the trio stood flesh to flesh. The sea men's cocks and bodies held her off the ground. The sea man at her front buried his head between her breasts. The one to her back, between her shoulder blades. As with the ocean, the sea men molded their bodies to Amanda's curves.

Once the young swimmer was properly fitted between them, the fucking commenced. The sea men ground their bodies, flexed their hips, and pistoned into her simultaneously. Amanda responded with grunts and moans, running her hands across her opposite's back. She embraced the moment, closing her eyes while her body came over and over. She stayed unaware of any other motion until the trio moved towards the pool.

The other sea men moved the boulder blocking the entrance. The sea men bracing Amanda fucked her while bearing her to the pool.

"I don't know how they did it. They walked and thrust at the same time. So strong . . . I barely noticed my surroundings. I didn't know there were others, except for the other three."

The interior was circular, like an arena, with the pool at the center. Amanda was reminded of the Colosseum in Rome. The entire area seemed made of obsidian, open to a starry sky, more stars than she'd seen in her life, with white sand at the bottom.

Caves and tunnels were set in the rock, and eyes, hundreds of blue, glowing eyes, watched them from the dark shadows. Amanda spared only a couple of seconds' wonder. Her overlapping orgasms distracted and cum soaked her inner thighs, running down her legs.

The eyes resolved into dozens of dark bodies emerging from the caves, and climbing down ledges and steps set in the stone walls. They flowed like a black wave, converging on the pool.

"I stopped counting after twenty. There were just so many, and everyone of them were male."

Amanda noticed no youngsters among the crowd. No women, no children. Something happened here. She looked at the sea man before her.

"They were all going to fuck me. I knew. It was impossible. I'd die just from these five alone but, I thought, it doesn't really make sense. Why drag me to this strange place just to, well, fuck me to death?"

There really wasn't anything Amanda could do to resist. Instinct told her a hidden purpose was involved. All she needed do was brace her body and find it.

The experience, in the following days, exceeded her wildest fantasies. They didn't fuck her to death, of course, but the marathon brought her close. The days were uncountable, experienced as vague perceptions of starry, moonlit nights and overcast days. Most of her attention was taken with cock, cum, and orgasms; her pussy, mouth, and bung constantly stuffed, her belly and womb full of seed.

The sea men took turns; one withdrawing from one hole, replaced immediately by another. They let her rest, sleep, recover, and then repeated the cycle. They fed her strange fishes and seaweed, comparable to sushi. They cleaned her frequently and took her to areas where she could relieve herself among other ablutions.

The majority of her time was spent fucking, and fucking, and fucking with slick, smooth bodies sliding against her, and prehensile cocks delving deep into her cavities, her body bathed in sweat and cum. Each day they fucked her to exhaustion.

"It was like a drug den, like I was always high. Everything felt mechanical, automatic; eating, fucking, pissing, shitting . . . I did everything they wanted, without question. They never spoke, never made a sound and yet, I just knew. If there was a cock in front of me, I opened my mouth. If they entered me, I spread my legs wider. I'd never been like this before . . . with anyone. I'd fucked a few boyfriends before but never like this . . . orgy."

Time blended; night and day it was eat, sleep, fuck. Amanda's awareness faded to a soft, erotic haze. The miasma of smooth, moist skin and fucking so much her existence, her confusion was genuine when, after a warm, wet body-encased sleep, she awoke to soft cotton sheets, a dry, firm hospital bed, and Harry and her family asleep on chairs next to it, keeping vigil.

Harry woke first. His burst of questions woke her parents. The ensuing cacophony helped her confusion but little.

"It took forever for things to sort out. They said I was missing for a month but it felt longer. Harry called the police when he didn't find me at the house. He thought someone snatched me on the beach. They questioned him, the party guests, my boyfriend, the locals . . . Then search and rescue got involved. They thought it was a shark, even though attacks were rare here. It became a recovery after a week. People said it was a shark or riptide. Some local guy looking for clams found me in a pile of seaweed. He thought I was a corpse. The police were shocked I was alive.

Everybody asked questions but what could I say? That I was kidnapped by alien fishmen? I wasn't sure it actually happened myself. I didn't remember them taking me back to the beach. The whole thing seemed like a crazy erotic hallucination. So I told them I couldn't remember a thing. That I was swimming towards the shore, thought I heard a splash, felt a tug, and the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital.

The doctors and police speculated I might have been raped. They saw bruising around my hips and groin and ran a test. 'Inconclusive but suggested intense and prolonged sexual activity,' they said.

The police, doctors, my parents, Harry, reporters, they all questioned me. The police even arrested a few local men with records. They brought me in to look at the line up. I didn't I.D anyone. They had me see a rape counselor, and my parents asked me to see a psychotherapist. I think the counselor and therapist knew I wasn't telling the whole truth about my amnesia. Then people, a few cops, some reporters, suggested my 'disappearance' was a hoax. It got bad for a few months.

Some people, supporters I guess, did point out I didn't want to talk to the police or reporters really. Hoaxers usually want attention. Everything got confused after that, which is how I wanted it, I guess.

I left the hospital, the frenzy died down, I went back home, and things went back to normal for a while, and then I puked up my dinner, and took a pee test."

"Hmmm," said the Traveler. "A most remarkable story. You opted not to have an abortion. Is there a reason?"

"Well," Amanda was pensive, "That was my first thought but . . . I thought back to that . . . strange experience, and how I didn't see any women or children, and how maybe the reason they snatched me had something to do with it. I don't know . . . it's just a feeling I'm supposed to do this."

"Ah, hmmm, and perhaps returning to this beach is related to this . . . feeling?"

Amanda thought again, "I think so. Once I decided to have . . . them, I've been dreaming of this place. They became more frequent the bigger I grew. I took a sabbatical from my job and moved back into the beach house four months ago. Harry and my parents were good about it, sort of. They didn't understand but supported me overall. The media and the cops had moved on, and the locals are good about my privacy. Strange things happen on the beach, they say, so they're not too curious. It's just waiting now."

"Yes, I guess it is, isn't it? I've collected stories from across the worlds. You're not the first who've forged connections with Others; certain 'people' I've found are subtle."

"I think maybe less subtle. My dreams of them have been more frequent for the past month, and the babies are stirring more often these days. So I think I'm . . . unnngh!"

The Traveler looked down; fluid was gushing between Amanda's legs.

"Close," she gasped.

"Oh! Do you want me to get a . . .?"

"No," Amanda said, laying on her back.

"Would you like me to stay?"

"Mmmm . . . I think you should move back a distance. I don't think they'll want you here."

The Traveler was sorely tempted to stay, mainly out of curiosity. He obeyed Amanda's wish but decided to stay close enough, to observe, and act in case she needed aid. He sat down some distance off, close enough to hear her moans and grunts, far enough so as not to pose a threat, if such beings made an appearance.

"Such sensuality," he thought, in Amanda's strain. In the way her large breasts and belly wobbled and vibrated, like gelatin. The way her hands stroked over her curves and valleys. The sweaty strain on her face, moans and hisses aspirating through her slightly parted lips. The gleam of her wet, golden skin in the overcast light of the afternoon.

The Traveler had seen women give birth on his journeys; a painful, agonizing experience for which he marveled at women. He saw little of the sensual in those moments but something here separated it from the others. He made sure to inscribe the scene in his mind, observing every detail: the beach, the sky, the sea, and her. He paid close attention to his own feelings, and the ethereal, erotic atmosphere surrounding the woman.

They emerged from the sea with nary a ripple: tall, dark, sleek, hairless, and beautiful. He scrolled through his memories, seeking the race to which they might belong. They did not seem selkie or fae, possibly some branch of merfolk, or an extradimensional race resembling such. This beach had thin walls; any manner of beings could come through.

They looked neither malevolent nor the opposite; emotions were difficult to read on their faces. They didn't seem the progeny of the Great Old Ones either.

The sea men numbered seven; six to kneel on each side of her, one to kneel between her legs. They glanced at him briefly, without interest, before tending to Amanda.

Their hands joined the young swimmer in smoothing over her curves, whether to comfort, or massage, the Traveler knew not. The seventh stayed between Amanda's legs, his actions obscured, partially, by her gravid belly.

The young swimmer continued to moan and grunt, and then gave a brief sharp gasp. The seventh moved, briefly, from between her legs, bearing a small, dark object which he placed against Amanda's left breast. The Traveler could see, faintly, the baby's umbilical cord leading back over the belly.

Amanda began another series of moans. She gasped again, and another baby was brought to her right breast.

The day drifted on with soft sounds and sensual heat; the quiets sighs and gasps from Amanda, the soft, warm breeze over the water, the gentle lap of the surf.

The sea men caressed Amanda's belly, pressing gently every other stroke. Amanda gave soft gasps or grunts, each time producing a baby. One sea man or another would stop to replace a baby at her breast, allowing each new one to nurse. The Traveler watched rapt, until she produced six children.

The sea men's hands moved rhythmically, massaging her belly, changing out the infants. The Traveler took note of Amanda's semi-conscious state, punctuated by an occasional moan. He found the synchronized motions of these strange creatures entrancing. When they shifted positions and lifted the unresisting swimmer, the choreographed movement rivaled the best dancers.

"Indicative of a race living in complete harmony with one another," thought the Traveler.

The sea men kept Amanda suspended between their two groups, with the seventh holding her legs under his arms. Their bodies were packed close together, their arms linked under Amanda's body. The babies lay on top of her torso, held there by the umbilical cords and the sea men ringing her.

They moved as one, striding into the water, carrying the semi-conscious woman. The Traveler marveled at the near complete unity in their movements, almost as a single entity. Their skill in causing almost no disturbance in the water was remarkable.

They quickly disappeared; one placed his mouth on Amanda's before they went under. The Traveler sat on the sand, watching the blue water, pondering over the day.

"Most interesting new people and a story for my journal," he mused out loud. "Somebody most know information about these beings."

He resolved to write on this encounter in his journal at the hotel.

The Traveler lingered in town for several more days, in case the woman returned. He questioned a few of the locals as to the nature of the beach and surrounding waters. A few were suspicious, initially, not happy with the earlier attention Amanda's disappearance brought to the town.

"We couldn't blame the sheriff," one said. "He had to go through the motions, but those reporters and outsiders . . . they don't know the cove."

"The cove takes people and sometimes gives them back," another said, "But it never really lets you go. None of us were surprised when she came back."

The Traveler, after several days, and deciding Amanda would not be back in the near future, left the Vanderdecken Town with a good story, pleased with the experience of meeting an intriguing woman. He set off for California, to investigate rumors of satyrs at an old estate near San Francisco.

****

She can still be seen sometimes, swimming on some moonlit night, or sunning herself on the beach. She comes to the town but rarely. The townsfolk respect and treat her kindly; most know to leave her alone.

Very rarely, some tourist or backpacker would try to see her, intrigued by her beauty. Some were extraordinarily rude, like the drunken fratboys who blew into town one summer and followed her to the beach house. Nothing more was heard of them after that.

Some visitors she received, like her parents or her friend Harry. Most stayed away. The locals knew; she was watched over.

One day, while swimming, she noticed a man on the beach. She recognized him. He was away off from the shore, with a small backpack, passing through.

She swam close and stood, a nude sea nymph in the summer air. The man's face held a question. She smiled and mouthed, "Six girls," and waved.

The man smiled back, nodded, waved, and strode away. The woman turned and dove back into the warm, mystical waters of Vanderdecken Cove, with nary a ripple to mark her presence.

The End.