The yacht BENEDICTION steamed across the North Ocean. The day was clear and calm with only the occasional gusts that blew mist from the ocean white tops into geometric shapes. The captain was well seasoned, and the crew was comprised of career sailors before the mast and greenhorns looking for their sea legs and fortunes.
The passage was uneventful until the third day, when the lookout informed the captain of a fog closing in all around the ship.
The captain wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't watched the event occur with his own eyes. The fog, which had a green tint to it, encircled them completely and the walls were closing in, even against the wind.
However odd, the captain was not worried. He was a veteran of the Great War, serving in His Majesty's Navy from the sinking of the Lusitania until the armistice. He'd seen it all and wasn't afraid of a little strange weather.
Over the next twenty minutes the fog closed in and engulfed the ship to the point that the green mist rolled across the deck like waves of vapor. The fog was thick and deep, extending undoubtedly leagues into the sky. When it obscured the mid-day sun, it resulted in a glowing green light that made the ships crew muster on the weather deck to discuss. The captain and the quartermaster remained in the pilot house through all of this, keeping a sharp and navigating eye out for obstructions in the water.
Until, that is, the captain began to feel strange. He wasn't an old man, only mid 40s, and still considered himself a vital man with a lot to offer. Every port he frequented there was either a whore in a whorehouse, a neglected wife on the pier, or any other kind of female distraction he may like to entertain.
A pungent and intoxicating smell approached through the fog. It was like he'd drank an aphrodisiac: his cock was hard in his trousers and images of lustful debauchery from his past flooded his mind.
He gave the wheel to the quartermaster, who was a good sailor named Grayson that was destined for his own ship someday, and stepped outside of the pilot house onto the deck to get some fresh air.
As he looked toward the midship promenade deck, he saw a woman standing there, naked under a robe of seaweed and hear wet and down to her shoulders.
Three of the captain's men lay at her feet in the mist. A fourth was on his knees licking and sucking her vagina. She held her hands to her side and let the green fog roll from her palms and fill the fog bank surrounding the ship.
When she was done with the man on his knees, she touched his head with both of her hands. His eyes flashed and he collapsed to the deck.
The captain tried to look away, but he couldn't move his feet or speak.
There were only 12 men onboard. And out of the mist he watched the remaining 6, that weren't either him or Grayson, walk like enchanted zombies toward her. Each exhaled breaths that were more of the green fog.
One by one, she fucked them, ravaged them, collected their life essence by taking their cum shot in any hole their base instincts directed them.
