Microfiction: Fathoms Untold by TS Porter

“Fathoms Untold”
by TS Porter

Pearl Gleam the Huntress led her pod on their yearly migration. She was one of the largest of the Sea Peoples, and where most decorated themselves with bright shells and pearls, she wore strange armor fashioned from the carapaces of giant abyssal crabs. She was as long as an oarfish, faster than a mako shark, and her notched fins and the many scars on her arms and down the length of her tail proved her prowess as a warrior. Her pod trusted her to protect them, and protect them she did on their long journey, more often breaking the current at the head of the pod than swimming in any easier position.

They threaded through island chains, crossed vast empty waters marked only by the stars and currents, and came to the coastline of their feeding grounds. It was different from their warm breeding territory with its placid jewel-water lagoons, but those deep cold currents, where the ocean’s upwell beat against the dry-land barrier, produced the fattest fish. Her pod was strong even without her, and when they were safe and established, Pearl Gleam left them to swim out into the ocean alone. Even in youth, Pearl Gleam had been driven to exploration. Age and experience had only sharpened that curiosity to a blade as deadly as the obsidian that tipped her spear.

Out: past the barrier islands, deep beneath the pounding surf that broke upon them, she went. And then down, following the path of the ocean floor as it fell away into the endless abyssal. Down and down she swam, in uncounted fathoms into the crushing cold and darkness her sun-adapted eyes could not penetrate. She looped and spiraled, a display that set the pale lengths of her soft belly flashing in the gloom.

She swam on, by memory and the feel of the water, until out of the darkness a massive suckered tentacle wrapped all the way around her body and pulled. Pearl Gleam let out one short, sharp scream, and was gone.

There was a moment of tumultuous movement, rushing water and disorientation in the dark, before Pearl Gleam’s captor came to rest within a massive undersea cavern gleaming with bioluminescence.

“Well,” a deep, rumbling voice asked. “What delicious snack have I captured today?”

Pearl Gleam laughed, squirming her way free of the Great Kraken’s loosened grip and coiling through and between her smooth muscular arms, caressing them all with both hands and her whole body. “Just a nosy little mer-ling, my love, too bony to bother with.”

The Kraken laughed herself, the click of her beak echoing through the chamber, and she opened a path for Pearl Gleam to swim up to one of her huge eyes. “Not so small anymore,” she said, stroking the tip of one tentacle gently down Pearl Gleam’s back. “All gristle and scars now, too tough for eating.” The big W-shaped pupil narrowed, the Kraken smiled at the old joke.

“You’ll have to find another use for me,” Pearl Gleam agreed, stretching her prodigious length out for the Kraken’s eager gaze, and then twisting around to dive back into the hold of her arms. There was nothing like the feeling of them all over her, gentle but powerful, both shiversome with danger and joyful with affection at the same time. “Oh, I’ve missed you,” she sighed.

“You came back,” the Kraken said, soft and wondering in her voice like the earth breaking at the bottom of the sea, as she carefully squeezed Pearl Gleam, wrapping her up tight.

“I always come back to you.” Pearl Gleam shifted to keep her gills clear, and relaxed in the Kraken’s grip as she touched Pearl Gleam with each arm, reacquainting herself with the feel and taste of her and removing her armor piece by piece. Pearl Gleam gasped and grabbed one arm back. It was not smoothly tapered to a tip, like the others, but instead broken off very short in a thick nub. “What happened?”

The Kraken shifted around until she could see, and flexed the shortened tentacle in Pearl Gleam’s grip. “Sperm whale,” she said, simply. “Mistook me for a squid. He was delicious.”

The wound was already healed, and the arm regenerating, but Pearl Gleam still made sympathetic sounds and stroked it gently. The sucker closest to the end stuck to her, and she laughed and nuzzled it affectionately.

There was a decadence to being held by the Kraken, to be so surrounded and sheltered by a single partner. Pearl Gleam was happy to lose herself in it.

The Kraken breathed faster as they curled and coiled together, the current of her siphon whooshing through the cavern. Colors flowed over her skin to show her excitement.

“Can we?” Pearl Gleam begged, crawling up the Kraken’s arms to reach her mantle. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Yes,” the Kraken rumbled, stretching out to let Pearl Gleam slip her hands under the edges of her mantle. She swam slowly, rubbing her whole body against the Kraken’s as she searched for—there, the softly yielding flesh of her reproductive duct. With one careful push, Pearl Gleam’s hand slipped inside. To the wrist, to the elbow, and the Kraken rumbled her pleasure, muscles rippling in waves on Pearl Gleam’s arm, pulling it slowly deeper.

Two powerful tentacles wrapped around Pearl Gleam, anchoring her in place. The suckers attached firmly, strength that could tear Pearl Gleam apart, but was far too careful to damage a single scale. She flexed luxuriantly against the restriction, and began slowly rotating her wrist inside the Kraken.

When the tip of a third tentacle, narrowed to a slender point, began delicately probing the tight slit of Pearl Gleam’s sex, her whole body shuddered. “Please,” she breathed, trying to push into it despite the restraints, and failing.

It was an addictively perverse thrill to play at mating so far out of her season, in cold waters where her body was closed down and completely unprepared. She splayed her ventral fins and claspers, opening herself as much as she could. The Kraken entered her carefully, slowly. The thick rubbery disks of the Kraken’s suckers, each row bigger than the last, expanded and contracted, gripping her most tender places from the inside as the tentacle gently twisted and turned, working its way deeper into her sex.

Orgasm was not easy for Pearl Gleam to achieve, outside of season. It took time to build, an endless tease that set her bones to aching before, finally, her sex clamped down with the powerful contractions of overwhelming pleasure. Once coaxed to pleasure out of season, her body did not know how to stop. One orgasm became another, and another, became far too many to count. The Kraken’s tentacle held firm through the clench, and swelled larger in the brief moments of respite in between, pushing ever deeper, until Pearl Gleam felt as though she would burst. She thrashed in the Kraken’s grip, muffling her incoherent sounds by biting into the thick resilient skin of the Kraken’s mantle.

The Kraken’s pleasure was different from Pearl Gleam’s. Her duct gradually pulled Pearl Gleam’s arm in, all the way to the shoulder, as the muscular ripples became stronger. The first time, Pearl Gleam had been afraid it would pull her arm right off. It did hurt, a little, but Pearl Gleam could hardly feel it in the moment. She was pulled taught in the Kraken’s grip, between the inescapable hold on her arm and the powerful tentacles clinging to and filling her. The Kraken’s duct clenched one last time, and then she was done and expelled Pearl Gleam’s arm with one mighty push.

Pearl Gleam grabbed onto the Kraken’s nearest arm, anchoring herself. Her claspers grasped the tentacle inside her, so it could go nowhere but deeper. She rolled, wrapping herself tighter in the Kraken’s arms, until it seemed that nothing even existed beyond the two of them.

By the time Pearl Gleam was done, she was limp and exhausted in the Kraken’s grip. The Kraken cradled her gently, having moved her close to an eye so she could watch her in the faint glow of the cave’s bioluminescence. Her sex was sore, the lips puffy and swollen, and she shivered deliciously as the Kraken lightly stroked them and the faint sucker-mark bruises here and there on her body.

“There’s nothing like being with you, my love,” Pearl Gleam mused, “Not in the whole ocean.”

“Nor you,” the Kraken rumbled, framing Pearl Gleam’s face with an arm.

“So… can I coax you to hunt with me in the bright waters?” Pearl Gleam asked eventually, lazily petting the nearest tentacle.

The Kraken’s pupil narrowed with a smile. “Only if you will hunt with me in the deeps.”

“Of course!” Pearl Gleam said. “I would never miss that chance… and we will share pleasure, all season.”

“Incessantly.” The Kraken savored the word slowly, clacking her beak. “But rest now, my fierce little Huntress. We will plan when you are recovered.”

TS Porter is a stick insect poorly transmuted into the semblance of a human and set loose to wreak chaos on the world, which they create mostly in the form of porn and baked goods. Their physical location and momentum varies, but home is always online. They can be found at ts-porter.tumblr.com or on twitter @TSPorterAuthor.

 

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