The Sea is Calling Ch. 01

Esteemed reader, I wrote this story because I was missing something like that here. Why is nobody else writing this? Huh? Anyway, I wanted to establish the setting, so it's a bit of a slow burn at first. Its main theme is a power fantasy borrowing Lovecraftian elements, a low fantasy setting grounded in the real world in the present. A male protagonist learning of his superpowers and being dragged into the role of cult leader. I intend to continue the story including more bdsm, power play, control and some other fetishes, just as heads up, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, this is just a mere introductory chapter, nothing much will happen here anyway...

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"The sea is calling, my prophet" a voice said.

"Actually, I don't really like the sea. I'm more of a mountain person" I answered.

"Oh! That is auspicious news." It boomed out of nowhere, like the crashing of waves.

"Wait! What? Why? What are you talking about? Hold on a second - Why is it dark? Where am I? What happened?" I was beginning to feel an eery discomfort not knowing what was going on, floating in pitch black darkness, all senses lost, having a conversation with an unfamiliar, low and distorted voice.

"Astonishing. A voraciously strong specimen. Your cortex seems hungry for auditorily reception, all will be good, in due time. I am The Steward of the Sea. Relax!"

A soothing calmness overcame me, I was beginning to float away, losing consciences, but one small part of me wanted answers: "What happened? Tell me Steward."

"You are my prophet; the waves will bow to you as the bow to me. The sea will listen." The voice boomed almost reluctantly.

That took all the strength and with it I passed out with a warm watery feel. I had an outer body experience, I was floating outside of my body, it was lying in a room, no a cabin, yes, a ships cabin, I tried to move and managed to pass through the wall effortlessly. It looked like a fish trawler, with a dozen crewmembers, one captain, one woman.

I somehow knew I was on a boat navigating the Atlantic, thousands of miles away from the shore. I checked the bridge and the map on display confirmed my precognitive knowledge. Normally this would set me into a traumatising state of panic, turn this hallucination into a nightmare with a thick layer of sea-sickness on top but I never felt more at home. The woman caught my interest. Her Name was Clara, I identified some books about medicine, a letter addressed to her, a doctor's bag and a white lab coat. She was having a nightmare, kicking and moaning in her sleep. She wrestled with her blanket revealing her satin nightdress. Sweating heavily, her skin glistened when lightning struck and luminated her cabin.

The sea was getting rougher and it was getting harder for me to concentrate - losing my focus I drifted through the wall outside of the ship, a flash of lighting heightening my awareness.

I noticed eldritch symbols etched in the hull of the ship. They felt alien at first, but turned out to be familiar, primordial even. No numbers, no id, just those symbols.

But they started to make sense, how, why? What do they mean? Blessings of sorts and a prayer begging of forgiveness. One sermon etched itself in my now befuddled memory:

"The sea shall claim me as their own, for I am her servant, and he is my master, the call of the tides shall judge all who aren't." corny, I thought, very corny.

My thoughts faded into nothingness and I passed out.

Time passes...

Suddenly the voice beckoned again:

"Wake up Prophet, your great ascensions will rise like the upcoming tide! ... Your disciples are here; they will explain more saturated and expunged for you."

As I opened my eyes I was lying in the dimly lit room, slightly moist with a strong smell of brine. Candles were flickering around me. An impressively recognisable sound of waves crashing and a harmonic bobbing around, up and down, left and right felt uncomfortably familiar. Yes, this was the ship, I felt it. Then a flash of lightning and thunder instantly illuminated the cabin's porthole. A fierce storm was raging with the sea as agitated and ferociously tossing the boat I was on around.

But there she was, Clara, the woman with luscious blonde hair, now standing next to me, feel panicky and seriously sea-sick. Exactly how I would normally feel I thought to myself, what happened that I feel absolutely safe, I must be on some incredible drugs, especially with the recent hallucination. Good stuff.

"Can you hear me, are you alright, how do you feel?" She said in a professional, distinctively worried albeit forced tone, struggling not to throw up. Her silhouette was gorgeous and even without much light I could make out nicely shaped breasts, a well-rounded hip and bottom and besides for the sickly look and definitely forced smile a pretty face of a woman in her late twenties. Wow, I couldn't help to check her out and felt bad now, hoping she didn't notice, hell of a drug I got.

"you seem to like her" The voice told me "That is good, a healthy sexual appetite will be quite sufficiently productive." With renewed determination I tried to get a hold of my senses, leaving the voice in my head be and addressed her with the most focus I could muster.

"Thank you Clara, you are my doctor right? Why are we in the middle of the Atlantic? Where is our ship headed? Why doesn't she have a name? Only prayers? What about these prayers, has the sea claimed you as her own yet?" I felt like a small child, finally able to ask some adult all the important questions at once. I just couldn't get them out of my head, everything already embedded itself in my thoughts that I had to use the information, without questioning it.

"You know" she stammered "Oh great Seafather, oh my, the sea be praised, you really are the one, oh I'm so sorry I had doubts. Oh, please forgive me, oh dear Seafather I am so sorry, oh..." Now she panicked but not because of me, but because of what I said. The guilt she felt was so enormous, it was palpable. That was too much for her apparently, the sea-sickness got the better of her and she barely was able to cover her mouth running to the nearest window and vomit it all out of. I watched for a while, and when the retching turned into sobbing my amusement gave way to arousal by the damsel in distress setup presented to me. I had to try to get up, getting to her. Instinctively, even though part of rebelled because of the alien setting. But to my astonishment I was able to and even felt comfortable with the rough sea tossing the boat around. At the window I put my hand on her shoulder and left it there for an almost awkwardly long time but that seemed to calm her down. "There, there, no need to vomit on our first date, that's not a good impression." Her sobbing turned into a single giggle and she was able to regain some of her composure, facing away from the window, only a feet away from me, our eyes locking.

I was expecting her bad breath but the brine and the sea felt so invigorating I hardly noticed.

"What a wonderful turn of events. She fulfilled her use perfectly. You can understand me perfectly well, you can read my words. Glorious!" As hard as I tried, I couldn't drown out the voice.

Trying to distract myself from it, I caressed her cheek, enjoying how my fingers brushed through her blonde hair, gentling stroking her strands out of her face then rubbing her tears away, whispering: "Don't be afraid, the sea will protect me and provide for me and as long as you are under my protection, so shall you be safe and provided for." Surprised by my own choice of words.

"Oh How bothersome, She has had her usefulness, why do you still care? I shall see to it that she will no longer interfere."

No I thought, my sudden anger rising like a tidal wave, only being interrupted by another thunderstrike lighting up an all-consuming huge wave bound to overwhelm and swallow the ship. Unending water raising higher and higher, the wave forming would put disaster movies to shame.

"No!" I insisted "you have no say here. That is enough!"

Clara froze, staring at the upcoming tidal wave, starting to mumbling eldritch phrases, occasionally calling out for her mom. "No, this is not your decision. The moment that should have lasted mere seconds felt like minutes to me, everything was moving in slow motion, or was it moving at all.

Then a moment of silence - and suddenly the wave broke apart losing height as quickly as it appeared only hitting the ship portside with a mere fraction of the initial force, washing through the still open porthole. Splash. wet, mhmmm nice.

The ship remained on course, repeatedly bobbing around like a cork in a bathtub. The wave subsided, Clara and I were drenched in sea water. Immense tiredness crashed over me, almost drowning me in the process. Her wet clothes glistened transparently proudly displaying a lace bra and a rather kinky g-string shining through her wet yoga pants. Noticing that, I snapped back, still tired and sore, like having exercised the whole day.

"you need to dress more appropriately" I joked. She opened her mouth in protest, but chose not to in the end. I beckoned her to leave signalling that I had to lie down.

"Impressive and heedless. You wield my powers most adeptly, but if you overexert yourself your body may fail you. Be mindful little one, you have no idea what powers you can control yet. You are needed, promise me to take good care of you and I will graciously grant you sovereignty over you and your herd. Do tha..."

Clara came back, her entrance even managed to interrupt my communion, thankfully blocking off the Stewards monolog. The sky was black and clouded but the storm stopped and the sea, while still rough, felt more welcoming and inviting than ever.

She was wearing a silky blue robe now, featuring intricate embroideries of fish, whales and waves. The cold stethoscope and the sharp pumping grasp of the blood pressure meter clawing at my arm in a tightening grip sharpened my dulled senses.

"Don't talk now" she said in her professional tone. Her sea sickness was gone, I seemed to have cured her, but she didn't notice as she looked puzzled at the results, they didn't add up. "Don't worry, I'm fine." Tell me about your outfit. Distracted by her findings about my health she murmured:

"My mom made these for me and my sister, all according to the scripture, she is really proud of that, really knows what she is doing, I used to wear this during midsummer sermons even though mom said true believers should wear them as often as possible." Her puzzled expression suddenly switched to one guilty gasp of embarrassing realisation.

I'm so sorry I didn't wear them sooner. I am ashamed of breaking traditions and betray your and -she hesitated- my faith."

"Sorry, are you?" Looking into her eyes, trying to find out how far I can push this.

"Yes, I truly am" she said with pleading eyes, with a glimmer of devotion slightly noticeable.

"Then why are you wearing underwear under your robes? I doubt scriptures mentioned that particular accessory..." I lectured her.

"How did you...?" she looked devastated and defeated, I just looked sternly at her.

But on the inside I was giddy with anticipation. Truth be told, I was making an educated guess since I couldn't see her nipples and she was still wearing those cute converse and long striped socks as well, red and black. The room was cold and wet, with the porthole still open, wet rain and seawater spraying inside with every wave hitting the ship. Her nipples would show I assumed.

Her discomfort was palpable, but boy did she look adorable in distress. I had no chance but to get even more aroused as she was overwhelmed by yet another of her missteps.

I stood up from the bed and looked down at her, trying to figure out what she would do next. Luckily, she turned her face away so she didn't notice that I was leering at her. I was excited, aroused and the tension in the room was almost unbearable.

Then, she slowly started to put her arms under her cloak, behind her back, unzipping her bra. I couldn't believe my eyes. She kicked her shoes off, slowly and carefully. Her socks instantly got soaked on the wet floor. She took one step and put one foot in front of the other, trying to catch the sock in between. Struggling and wiggling a bit, she managed to pull one foot back and the sock slowly started to slid off. I was mesmerized and couldn't stop watching. She repeated the process with the other sock while slowing mustering the courage to look at me again. I tried to regain my composure, I needed to be razor focussed as now she was sliding her fingers down to her panties and with a swift movement, they slid down her knees and landed on the floor. She took another step back and picked up her already soggy underwear. "I'll take that" I managed to say. Slightly bowing she handed the now wet ball of clothing over. I inspected it. Another lace bra and g-string. Ha, of course she had more than one, why would I even question that. "I'll keep that to remember this incident." I said boldly, the rush of hormones was making me feel empowered and in charge. I am going to enjoy this, I thought.

I could now see the goosebumps on her skin and her nipples perking through her silky cloak. She was breathing heavily and looked at me fearfully. She was almost ready. "Now, Clara! So, let's see how well you can follow orders properly, maybe latter you make amends for your missteps here and then we could possibly forget about this sorry affair, huh?"

After a brief pause, she nodded heavily, visually relieved.

"Put your arms behind your head and stand with your legs apart." I ordered. "I am going to see what bounties the sea has to offer me. The sea is mine, you are mine now, do you understand?" She hastily nodded again, almost in trance.

I stroke hair and caressed her cheeks. She moved gratuitously towards my hand. She was not only enjoying my touch; she was craving it. I move my thumb gently towards her lips. She opened her mouth slightly. A single, suppressed and almost inaudible moan escaped her lips.

Then I touched her neck with both hands. Gently tracing her veins going down. No breath-play today, I am too distracted. I thought to myself while moving my hands gently along her shoulders and slipping them under her robe. I stood behind her now, my hands arrived at her breast while I leaned close to her head listening to her breathing. It was irregular and short. She was extremely excited. Good.

Her firm tits and perky nipples felt unbelievable. She probably had a C-Cup as her breast filling my hands nicely. I rubbed them, feeling her change of breath, every time I squeezed them gently. The sensation was almost overwhelming. My hands trailed down her body, past her belly button and stroking the sides of her hips. She knew what was coming next and let out an almost silent groan. I caressed her inner thighs, gently albeit decisively. Steadily moving up I felt that she was completely shaved. My hands brushed against her labia. I felt a dripping and wet sensation while she bit her lip, trying to keep her composure. She was soaked and slippery, there was no doubt about that she was close to climax already. Only one thing left to do, I thought, while playing with my fingers around making her squirm.

Eventually my fingers slid in, she was overwhelmed almost immediately. She moaned, quivered and lost her composure while I was massaging and rubbing her clit. It didn't take long. She became louder and louder, started pleading and whimpering culminating in a shaking orgasm. "You are enjoying this too much!" I admonished. "I'm going to teach you a lesson or two. You will become a devoted and devout follower."

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... to be continued

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