It turned cold quite suddenly. The two weeks she had spent on the south coast of Spain had filled Lyra's body with the type of heat that sinks down into your bones. When she had been in bed the night before she had felt as if the sun was still beating down on her. But that was gone, and she wasn't sure when it had happened. She had been lying on the deck of her father's yacht lost in the chatty musings of a podcast host. Her mind was completely free from her daily stresses, such that she had any. Then suddenly it was cold, not a rare cloud moving over the sun cold, but inexplicably cold. It was overcast, misty even but that didn't quite account for it and she couldn't quite place when that happened. She was shivering a little, she pulled the towel off her sun lounger and placed it over her shoulders.
She pulled off her headphones. It was quiet. She should have three brothers, a sister, three cousins, and a brother in law with her and they should be making a lot of noise,
"Guys!" she called as she walked down the stairs into the cabins "guys where are you...this isn't funny."
She couldn't hear anything. She moved through the gally, and into the cabins. She noticed their smartphones, drinks and snacks lying around in all the places they should have been sitting. Slowly she stopped feeling angry, and started feeling scared. She imagined that they were hiding. It was the sort of prank her brothers would come up with, her sister would make more elaborate, her cousins would gleefully agree to, and her brother in law would begrudgingly go along with. But the engine was broken. they hadn't even worried about it when they left, since they were all experienced sailors, but no amount of experience made steering this thing alone something she wanted to try. And if they hadn't noticed the weather changing they might not realise how serious that was.
"Seriously where are you all!" she yelled, her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. Suddenly there was a strong gust of wind and the boat lurched suddenly with it. Lyra was thrown off her feet and against the wall of her brother's cabin.
She pulled herself up and began making her way back to the deck as quickly as she could. She wasn't as fast as she would like. Although she worked out often, and not just cardio. The bikini she was wearing flattered her muscular abs and pert tits, and the magenta looked good with her tanned skin, but it was purely decorative. Moving quickly in it was so awkward she briefly considered discarding it. The start was slippery too, the wave which had knocked her over had covered the deck in salt water.
"Fuck" was the only thing she could say when she got back upstairs. The sky was now full of grey clouds which almost looked like a mirror image of the sea below. She had been blown close to a cliff and rocks jutted out of the water. She fell twice as she moved across the deck. Waves broke around the ship with such frequency and ferocity that it was only once she had herself by the gib to try steering the ship away from this mess that she noticed it was also raining. It hadn't rained since they arrived. The wind was strong and blew long strands of her hair across her face, and despite her best efforts couldn't get the yacht to turn around. In her mind she wanted to put the difficulty down to the engine being broken or to working alone. But she sensed something more was going on.
In the distance, through the rain, the subtle fog and the disorienting waves, she saw a rowboat. It looked to have been wedged in between two rocks, and there was someone sitting on one of them. Whoever it was she couldn't leave them there. She moved the rudder and tightened the sail hoping to get near them. The wind and waves suddenly started cooperating. As she moved closer she heard a strange sound. It almost seemed like this person, stuck on a rock in the middle of the ocean was singing. It was too absurd to be true yet as she got closer, she could see it was. The song was joyful, if slow, and it had a strange calming effect, so much so that when she saw that the person singing it was not perched desperately on top of a rock, but lounging with a beer in hand, resting their arms on the rocks as if it were the edge of a hot tub, she didn't question it.
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The scene should have baffled her. She knew it. The woman in front of her was - presumably nude. That much could be gathered from the cargo shorts and tank top discarded in the rowboat. She was submerged enough that her large tits just touched the water. The storm was still raging but the water around the woman was calm. There was something off about this but in this moment she couldn't really describe it. The woman was still singing between sips of beer. The song was enchanting, Lyra suddenly felt herself thinking about how wonderful it would be to get to know that woman. To get close to her. She suddenly couldn't remember why she was here. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. Then she remembered. She was here to help that woman.
"Are you okay?" She yelled over the side of the ship. The woman only scoffed and continued singing.
Lyra didn't react. She was lost in the woman's voice again. There were words in there. She thought they seemed to be a language she knew. For a moment it sounded like French, then like English, then like Greek, then like Arabic. Yet despite her comfort in all those languages, she couldn't quite grasp it. Suddenly she thought that if she sat on the railing by the edge of the deck, she would be a little closer, perhaps she might hear a little better. She knew it was dangerous. But the water by the woman looked so calm, the small amount of movement in it looked more hypnotic than dangerous. And surely if she kept her feet on the deck, she wouldn't fall.
She balanced herself precariously on the railings, the cold of the metal jolted her a moment and she opened her mouth to say something to the woman in the water. But before she could get the words out she was straining to listen to the woman's voice again. She swung her feet over and leaned forward, desperate to be closer. The woman smiled and beckoned her with a single finger. For a moment Lyra was scared. But the glint in those grey-green eyes was so enticing and kind. Anyway she was a strong swimmer. She would be fine. As if to demonstrate her comfort in the water, she positioned herself on the small surface outside the railing, raised her arms to the sky, and dove into the water.
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The cold of the water felt oddly comforting, and blessedly she could somehow hear that sweet, unintelligible singing underwater. She felt no need to return to the surface. Yet she felt something curling around her body and gently guiding her towards the surface. It was a tentacle. It curled around her hips and body firmly yet gently and cradled her head as it guided her towards the surface. She could see more around her but whilst the suction cups and the flesh around them were a deep purple, the outer side was almost the exact green grey as the ocean. The way they curled around each other in constant motion made them seem beyond counting. At that moment she might have guessed the whole ocean consisted only of tentacles.
Lyra gasped as the tentacles moved her head above the water. The woman had stopped singing, yet Lyra still felt inexplicably drawn to her. She was staring and her green grey eyes now looked more lustful than kind. She felt she might drown in them.
The tentacle gripped her tighter and another began to curl around her body. This one slowed and lingered over her ass and tits. Slowly she was being lifted out of the water. She felt gentle suction all over her body holding her in place. She couldn't move, and she didn't want to. They were strong, another emerged from water and curled around her as her legs were pulled from the ocean. Her entire body was limp, supported only by the tentacles that held her. Her mind was on the strange but wonderful sensation of gentle sucking all over her body. She noticed that at some point one of her breasts had broken free from her bikini and was fully exposed. She didn't care.
The woman in the water looked up at Lyra's body approvingly. As if only to confirm what Lyra had already figured out she took her beer in one of her tentacles and sipped it, as she rested her head on her interlaced hands. She was a cecaelia. Lyra knew that word. Why she remembered it now she wasn't sure.
Two more tentacles emerged from the water and began removing what little clothing covered her body. As the expensive pieces of magenta fabric fell into the ocean, the cecaelia began to slowly pull her close. Lyra gasped but then caught herself smiling. She didn't know why she wanted this, but she knew she did. The tentacles swirled around her, pulled her towards the sea creatures human body and lowered her into the cold water again. She was now waist deep in the ocean and inches from the cecaelia.
Suddenly the gap between them closed. The cecaelia kissed her. She kissed back as the sea creatures hand reached for her chest. She felt she was being repositioned. Her instincts told her to submit and she did. When the kiss broke two tentacles held her wrists against the rock, and the cecaelia was between her and the yacht. Her legs were free in the water but that made no difference. The sea creature slowly moved her hands from Lyra's tits to her waist. Two more tentickles appeared from the ocean and caressed them, the suction on her nipples made Lyra gap in pleasure. At that moment the cecaelia closed the gap between them. Roughly pushing her tongue into Lyra's mouth. Lyra moaned in pleasure through the kiss.
