Seaweed And Swimmers

While the frigid water chilled her to the bone, Natalia felt relief as she stepped from the scorching sand into the surf. Small waves crashed around her ankles, gulls cried out overhead, and the roar of the ocean competed with the sounds of fellow beachgoers; playing, surfing, and flirting. Natalia shivered and stood there for a few minutes, steeling herself to continue into the freezing water.

The young black woman had felt confident in her skin's natural protection from the sun's rays, but the intense heat bearing down on her made her second guess the decision to forego sunscreen. Making her way back to her picnic blanket, she pumped some into her hands and lathered it on, taking care to reach all the way around her hot pink one-piece. Coming to the beach alone made it difficult for Natalia to reach the spots on her back, but she was used to it -- she frequented this beach by herself for exercise and mindfulness.

'In fact,' she thought to herself, 'I don't particularly want to be around other people right now, getting splashed by kids or crashed into by body surfers.' She walked a fair way down the beach and reentered the surf, wading quickly in until it reached her neck, then finally submerging herself fully.

"Fucking hell!" Natalia swore aloud, treading water to warm up. She turned to face the shore, trying to gauge how far out she was. As she turned back around, a wave caught her off guard, slapping her in the face and filling her mouth with brine. Spluttering and rubbing her eyes, she struggled to stay afloat as wave after wave buffeted her, seemingly out of nowhere.

'Please don't wipe out, please don't wipe out,' she prayed, legs kicking hard to try to keep her above the assault.

Almost as suddenly as it had started, the strangely violent waves stopped. Natalia, suddenly finding herself able to stand, focused on coughing and blowing her nose, trying to recover from the onslaught. Seaweed brushed against her legs and hips, swirled up by the tide.

"What the fuck was that?" she wondered. Knowing that the current may have moved her while she was distracted, she looked back at the beach, only to find herself at an incredible distance from where she started out. While she wasn't far from shore, she could barely make out the figures in the distance. She breathed a sighed of relief; if she had wiped out here, she would have been totally alone.

The current had pushed her into a relatively calm part of the beach; waves crashed, white and foamy, around her, stirring up the sand and seaweed, but it never seemed to rise above her armpits. She suddenly felt uneasy, flinching at each brush of leafy or slimy seaweed against her legs or waist. While Natalia knew the remote beach well enough not to worry about the lack of a lifeguard, she'd never strayed so far from the main strip before, and she had no clue what could be in the cloudy waters beneath her. Images of blue-ringed octopuses, bluebottles, and jellyfish flashed through her mind, and while the rational part of her mind told her that this was just dead seaweed that she was feeling, her body told her to *get out of the water*.

Natalia made to turn, flinching as something brushed against both arms, and suddenly found that she couldn't turn at all. Something -- two somethings? -- had affixed itself to both of her wrists, holding them underwater. With the choppy water stirring up the sand, she couldn't see what had snagged her. She freaked out, pulling with all her might. She was a short and skinny woman, so that wasn't very much, but fear made her strong. Bracing her legs and using her hip and core strength to turn slightly, she snapped one of the bonds holding her, and pulled her arm up out of the water to see what it had been.

The slimy remains of something thick and dark green was looped several times around her wrist, still clinging on. The loose end came to a jagged halt from where she had snapped it, and looked as though it was made from the same material the entire way through -- rubbery but smooth, elastic but tough. Natalia reached back into the water, clasping her hands together with interlaced fingers to use her arms' combined strength to rip her other bond off, but a third rope-like tendril lashed its way around both wrists, tying them together and once more restraining both of Natalia's hands underwater.

Panicking now, the young woman widened her stance in order to bend her legs for more purchase, but before she could even begin to pull again, more of the slimy seaweed she had felt around her ankles began to move, tying themselves around her ankles and knees, immobilising her limbs and pulling themselves taut. Her wrists pulled towards the floor and her ankles and knees pulled outwards, left and right. Natalia could do nothing but scream for help.

And scream she did, crying out at the top of her lungs. "Help!" She started sobbing, pulling hopelessly against her restraints. "I'm trapped! I'm gonna drown!" Over and over, she tugged, becoming more exhausted and dehydrated by the second. It became clear to her, even in her panicked state, that she was much too far away for anyone to see or hear her screaming, and trying to escape was only weakening her. All she could do was wait for whatever it was to release her, and hope that the tide was going out and not in.

She stood there, chest heaving from the exertion, flinching with each new brush of seaweed against her. One persistent tendril wound its way once around her waist, coming to a stop just under her left armpit. She could only see the tip of it as the smooth... *thing*... pushed its way underneath her swimmers and snaked its way around one of her breasts.

"Agh, what are you-- argh!!!" she squealed, twisting her shoulders this way and that, but to no avail. The tendril, which Natalia now realised with horror was a tentacle, stroked at the underside of her breast, seemingly unimpeded by the tight fabric. She stared at it, unable to look away, repulsed but oddly entranced. The tentacle, being of a similar size to Natalia's slight wrists, had no difficulty in consistently and continuously rubbing itself against her hard nipple, in whatever direction it chose. Despite the inherent lubrication from being underwater, the tightness of Natalia's swimmers meant that each rub of the tentacle against her skin was rough and forceful, and she groaned at the lewd contact. Resigned to her helplessness in the situation, Natalia didn't fight or complain as another tentacle pushed its way under her swimmers, wrapping around her other breast and squeezing, as if it was a hand groping her. She simply stood there, shivering, hands clasped together as if in unholy prayer.

'I can't believe this is happening,' she thought, still conflicted on whether to struggle, or to simply stand there and bear it. Her jaw clenched with the effort of trying not to jump at each stroke and squeeze, as the tentacles played with her, slowly and leisurely. 'What do they even want? Are they sentient? Will they let me go eventually?'

With no answers forthcoming, she continued to think in circles, slowly decreasing in lucidity as the tentacles' ministrations continued. Her breaths continued in sharp, short bursts as a warm, creamy liquid began to collect in the crotch of her swimmers, and as she began to ache between her legs. Almost in a trance, she tried to rub her thighs together, but found her knees to be held too far apart for any friction to result from her compulsions. 'What am I doing?' she thought to herself, but seemed almost unable to stop, her arousal growing despite her reluctance.

Natalia's desperation to escape grew as, out of nowhere, another tentacle touched her inner thigh, insistently rubbing its way towards the seam of her swimmers.

"Agh, what are you doing? No!!" she screamed, bucking her hips wildly to try to dislodge it. With renewed vigour, the young woman wriggled furiously, sending ripples outwards on the surface of the water. Her breasts bounced lewdly and forcefully at the movement but remained in the ruthless grip of the tentacles, which simply squeezed tighter. She felt relief rush through her as she successfully shook off the tentacle that had been on her thigh, but it was short-lived. Several more tentacles wrapped around her waist and hips, as well as around her thighs, as if creating a harness. They held her tightly, and try as she might, she could barely move her hips at all. Her legs were slowly widened against her will, and due to the small loss of height, she had to tilt her head up to avoid the waves from splashing at her chin. The tentacle she had dislodged but a moment before returned, slowly inching its way under her swimmers.

Natalia tried to hold back her terrified tears as she stood there, trembling, utterly helpless before an unseen enemy taking advantage of her. All the while, the tentacles working her breasts continued their assault, flicking and stroking her in ways that made her whimper with reluctant pleasure. She could do nothing but continue to stare at the sky and wait for it to be over.

"Mnggh, please, no," she whispered. The tentacle had fully moved her swimsuit to the side now, and her crotch was fully exposed to the cold water. Despite herself, she clenched her clitoral muscles in anticipation of what was to come.

As if to tease her, to keep her waiting and dreading, the tentacle touched her entrance and paused. Natalia continued to whimper and plead helplessly as it remained there, seemingly contemplating something.

Then without warning, it was in her, filling her fully and deeply. She opened her mouth wide to cry out, but was quickly stopped from doing so by a tentacle that shot out of the water and dove its way between her lips. It buried itself quickly and securely at the back of her mouth, withdrawing and reinserting itself slowly and smoothly. It did not do so in time with the tentacle at her pussy, however, which pounded her roughly and mercilessly, perhaps as discipline for avoiding it before.

"Mmmghhh! Ungh mnnh mngghh!" Try as she might, she could not spit out the tentacle in her mouth, and the angle of her head tilted up to avoid the tide meant that biting down was implausible, if not altogether impossible. She protested around it as the two of them plunged into her, again and again.

Natalia struggled to pull at the bonds around her wrists, to pull her legs in together, to do *anything* to stop the violating tentacles, but they held fast. And as the assault continued, she found that... maybe she didn't want them to stop. Her pleasure grew as the tentacles continued to torment her, and before long, her cries had become moans.

"Umngh, ummf, nghh, mmmh!" she screamed, worked up into a horny frenzy. Not knowing how long this would continue, but no longer able to hold back, she came and she came and she came, clutching her hands together and struggling to stay upright in the water.

The tentacles did not relent, and Natalia whimpered past the phallic shape in her mouth, overwhelmed with the stimulation and struggling to keep her head above water. She trembled as they pumped in and out of her, as they squeezed her breasts, as they held her tightly.

After what felt to Natalia like hours of post-orgasmic torment, they began to slow, finally withdrawing themselves from her orifices altogether and releasing her from her bondage. With the water as cloudy and choppy as it was, Natalia couldn't see if they had truly left or not, and she didn't wait to find out. Parched, exhausted, and thoroughly fucked, Natalia quickly adjusted her swimmers and swam to shore.

'No one will ever believe me,' she thought to herself as she walked along the beach, back to her belongings. How could she ever mentally recover from this, with no one to talk to about it? She would simply have to live with this memory, of being violated in the open water, of... of... *enjoying* it, of loving what they did to her, of wanting them to have their way with her.

***

The next week, Natalia went swimming.