The Sea 11

A young woman is given as a gift to a nymph and the sea god.

***

Elianna had been chosen.

High on the rocks that jutted from the deepest waters in the bay, Elianna waited. The sea raged around her—wind, gusting from the west in sharp, cold bursts—made the skin on her arms prickle and sting. The rain fell in sheets—her hair, so carefully combed and twisted that morning, had fallen, limp and dripping. Her dress, white and thin, had gone sheer. Thunder crashed in the sky overhead, great spikes of lightning finding home in the distant trees behind her, and all the while, Elianna waited.

Her father had brought her out, rowing her through the churning waters to clamber onto the rocks. Her mother, wailing her grief on the shore, had fallen limp as her boat had vanished into the mist. The villagers had cheered—a glorious, righteous farewell—and all because Elianna had been chosen.

She had hoped it would be her.

Every year, on the anniversary of the Great Storm, the village selected its tribute. Every year, the shaman prayed, and every year he came back with a name. Sometimes a woman, but always a beauty—a villager come of age, chosen as a tribute to the sea. A tribute to give as a gift to the Gods, to keep their wrath at bay. A tribute to answer their prayers. A tribute to bring the rains, and the sun.

And as Elianna waited, her belly tight with nerves, she clung to the slimy rocks beneath her legs as she watched the waves rise ever higher.

The storm raged on and the lightning flashed down, and Elianna, staring out to sea with her eyes peeled wide, watched the foam build on the caps of the waves. Water crashed over her, drenching her from her head to her feet, and though she felt the stinging wind on her back, she did not dare release the stone. The rock was slick with algae—even here, where the sea grew angry, it could not dislodge the slime from the stone—and as she shifted, trying to keep her footing, she saw a sudden flash of lightning at her feet.

The thunder was so sudden and loud that it sent her reeling and she fell back onto the rock with a grunt, blinking away the sudden spots in her vision.

At once, she heard the sound.

"A child no more," said the voice from the sea. "A woman of the island. Show your face."

At once, Elianna sat up.

Before her, floating atop the churning, black waves, was a creature such as Elianna had never seen before. Her face was beautiful—so beautiful, in fact, that it seemed to stun the girl into abject silence, and she could say nothing at all. The woman's skin was white, like bleached bone, and she had a halo of jet black curls that fell to her waist. Her eyes were dark as well—they shone out from beneath her alabaster brow like onyx—and when Elianna tried to sit herself up, she felt a cool, strong hand on her ankle.

"Lovely," said the woman, and Elianna watched as she hauled herself up from the water. At once, as if by magic, the storm seemed to dissipate. Mist, hanging low over the water, obscured her view of the island in the distance, but the rain calmed, the thunder halted, and if she listened, Elianna thought she could hear the waves on the distant shores of the island coast. Elianna took in everything—that face, untouched by the rain, and the slender, narrow waist. The newcomer wore no clothing— her long hair, draped over each shoulder, was the only covering for her ample breasts, and between her legs was a patch of dark, wet curls.

The woman was staring at her, her fingers brushing a wayward curl from Elianna's cheek, before she pulled herself up closer and sighed, bringing her lips to Elianna's face.

"Will you give yourself to me?" queried the woman, bringing her hand down to squeeze Elianna's breast through the thin, wet shift. Elianna, unused to such boldness, gave a gasp. "Do you give yourself to me, you lovely girl, to keep your island safe?"

Those eyes, like liquid ink and fire, blazed with sudden urgency and Elianna, feeling herself overcome, could only nod.

"Good girl," said the woman and Elianna felt the weight of her settle down on her belly and chest. "Such a good, good girl..."

At once, the woman's hands began to move.

Elianna, having never felt any sensual touch, felt clumsy and stupid as the woman's deft hands began to work. Her thin shift was discarded, rising over her head to disappear into the murky depths of water beside their stone seat, and the chill of the air combined with the water on her skin made gooseflesh rise on her arms and legs. Elianna felt the woman's fingers first on her shoulders, and then her waist, before they narrowed in on her small, pert breasts, plucking at the hard, pebbled nipples.

"Oh..." Elianna's voice came in a whisper as she felt the tweaking fingers. Each squeeze sent a jolt down to her core, where she felt the unfamiliar rush of arousal. Elianna had never felt it before—such things were positively forbidden in the village, where chastity was valued above all else—and when the woman caught her squirming, she laughed.

"Would you like to try?" the woman asked, and Elianna, overcoming her shyness almost at once, nodded her head. The woman laughed again—such a lovely, mild sound—and shifted her heavy mane of hair to her back so that Elianna, staring, could take in the sight. These breasts were bigger than hers—so much bigger that she was surprised by the weight of them in her palms. Like her own, the woman's were round and soft, and when Elianna flicked a hard, pink nipple with the pad of her thumb, the woman hummed appreciatively.

"Do you see, lovely?" asked the woman, and Elianna jumped when she felt the stranger's palm cupped between her legs. "Do you

feel?"

At once, her face went red.

"I..."

"I

feel it," said the woman, and Elianna felt the hand pressing into the delicate, sensitive flesh. She felt her thighs squeeze together.

"I

feel it, darling, and it pleases me greatly."

When the hand moved away, glistening with a new kind of wetness, Elianna felt rather weak.

"I am glad to please," said Elianna softly, and the woman beamed at her. "I am grateful to be of service..."

"Oh, sweetheart," laughed the woman. "It pleases

me

to be of service. Will you let me care for you? Will you let me

love

you?"

At once, Elianna nodded her head.

"Wonderful." The hand returned almost instantly and this time, Elianna felt a jolt of sudden pleasure. "Wonderful..."

Letting the woman pull her forward so that her head rested in the crook of the stranger's neck, Elianna felt the return of the fingers at the juncture of her thighs. No fingers had ever ventured there—not even her own, when her need grew strong—and she let her legs fall to either side as the woman's hand began to move. Her breath came in sharp, hard pants as the digits began their plunder, and she felt a strange, curious stretch as first one, then two fingers were inserted into her tight passage. Elianna felt every movement—every stretch of her inner walls, every purposeful pass of that thumb over the tiny, sensitive pearl at the apex—until she was fairly drenched with arousal, her essence dripping onto the stone.

"That's it, sweeting, that's it..." the woman said, moving her fingers even faster. Elianna, gasping, felt a third finger enter. "Just like that, doll... there you go."

With her face buried in her lover's shoulder, Elianna could think of nothing but that hand at her core, and the delicious pressure in her belly. Her nipples were hard as rocks, pressing into the soft, pale flesh of the woman's breasts, and when she felt the woman's lips on her temple, her gentle breath in her ear, Elianna felt the coil in her belly snap and she fell, moaning and panting, to the very depths of the sea. Her breath left her in a rush and she felt her hips jerk away, but the woman did not let her go as she pulled her up to cradle the trembling, sensitive little body.

"Good girl, sweetheart. A very good girl," praised her lover, pressing an ardent, sensual kiss to the gasping girl's lips. Elianna felt herself lowered back down to the stone. "You're beautiful when you come."

Elianna, catching her breath, could say nothing. The woman laughed.

"You are my gift, and my delight," she said, glancing over Elianna's shoulder towards the island. "I love to see you fall apart."

At once, Elianna's face flamed red. The woman took no notice.

"Now, come here," she said, once Elianna had regained her bearings. "Come to me, and see just what you've done."

When Elianna, crawling back on all fours, made it to the spot where the woman rested, she saw a playful glint in the woman's gaze. She watched Elianna with a speculative eye, glancing first at her hands, and then at her dripping center, before she took Elianna's face in her hands and kissed her.

"You lovely thing," said the woman in between kisses. "You darling, lovely thing..."

Elianna's legs felt like water.

"Just look at what you've done," said the woman again and this time, Elianna saw the woman's pale thighs part. Beneath the dark, damp curls Elianna saw a wet, pink slit, which dripped, as hers did, onto the stone below. Elianna did not know what to think—she had never seen another woman naked—and so she simply stared, dumbstruck and shy.

"You can touch it," said the woman and Elianna felt another jolt in the pit of her belly. "Touch it, as I touched you. Feel how soft it is. Feel how wet you've made me."

Elianna brought a hesitant hand to touch the curls.

"Just so," said the woman, taking Elianna's hand in her own. Together, their fingers reached well beyond the curls to burrow in the hot, wet flesh and Elianna, feeling the opening at the bottom, let one, careful finger slide in.

The woman hummed her approval.

"Just like that," she urged, taking Elianna's wrist. Together, they moved that finger in and out, its passage eased by the copious wetness that flowed from within. "Add another, darling. Let me

feel

it."

At once, Elianna obeyed.

Having her fingers in another woman was something that Elianna had never before contemplated. She knew what lay beneath a woman's skirt—she, after all,

was

a woman—but she had never given much thought to what it could do or why it was there. She had never explored her own body, had never touched that delicate place to bring her own pleasure, but as she pumped her fingers into the hot, wet cunny of this divine lover, she wondered why she had not.

The woman did not lose herself as Elianna had. She did not whimper or cry out when those clumsy, discovering fingers disappeared into her body, but Elianna had no doubt that her ministrations would come to fruition. She could feel the pulsing of the woman's body, could feel the rhythmic squeezing of that great, powerful muscle, and when she brought her finger up to tap the engorged, pink nub at the apex of her nether lips, the woman let out one long, happy sigh. A moment later a gush of liquid spurted from her core and she sagged, satisfied, onto the great, flat stone.

"Very fine, my little minx," said the woman, drawing herself up once more. This time, when Elianna met her gaze, she was surprised to see not the dark, black onyx, but a glimmering, shining sea blue. "Very fine indeed. It is almost time, I think..."

"Time?"

The question had barely passed her lips before the woman was upon her.

Hands, trailing up and down her sides, latched onto her breasts with fervor. Elianna cried out when her nipples were tweaked, one rolling between finger and thumb, the other suckled between lips of full, ruby red. She did not know what to think—she did not know where to put her hands, or where to hold on—as the woman's head travelled from her chest to her belly, and from her belly to her thighs.

"What...?"

When the lips latched on, like a child at the breast, it was all Elianna could do to stop from thrusting, her whole being suddenly overwhelmed by a burst of savage pleasure.

"Oh, God!" she wailed as the woman's lips suckled at her pearl. "Oh God, please!"

She heard the woman giggle.

Her thighs spread wide, nearly cracking at the hips as she fought to give her lover space. Her fingers clung to the long, soft hair, directing the lips this way, or that, to make patterns on her sensitive flesh. Her pearl ached with each suck—she could feel her climax drawing near—and when she felt that tongue begin to flick, back and forth, and up and down, she came with a wail and a cry, her thighs clamping down on her lover's head as she writhed.

The woman took her mouth away and brought her hand down instead, rubbing firm, purposeful circles to draw out the pleasure. Elianna cried—her tears, racing down her face, were kissed away with gentle reassurances, until she felt a new set of hands rising up to touch her feet.

At once, Elianna's gaze snapped down and she froze, her face a mask of shock. It was a man, his body wet with sea water, and a face as radiant as the summertime sun. He watched the pair of them with eyes hooded with desire, his gaze flickering between the stranger and Elianna, his eyes flickering to the stranger's hands on Elianna's clit.

Even through her fog, Elianna knew just who he was.

"Do you know me, girl?" asked the man, his voice a booming bass. "Do you know who I am?"

At once, she nodded.

"Say it," said the man and the woman, wrapping her arms around Elianna with a sweet, gentle kiss, said nothing. "Say my name."

"Neru," she whispered and she saw the handsome face split into a gleeful smile. "Neru, of the Great Blue Sea."

"And do you know why you are come?"

"As tribute..."

"Aye," said the man, and this time, she felt his hands spreading her legs. "Aye, as tribute. Do you know what tributes do?"

"They please." His great cock, wide and long, was pressed against her dripping center. At once, she felt the woman's hands on her pearl. "They please..."

"Yes, they please." The God—for that, Elianna knew, was what he was—lodged the head of his cock against her virgin passage. "They please, and they are pleased in return."

When he began to push, stretching her opening to accommodate only the head, she gasped, making him grin.

"I love when they send me women," he said gently, and the stranger, now subdued, rubbed again at Elianna's poor, sensitive nub. "For only women can give me sons."

And gently, as if he did not want to hurt her any more than he had to, Elianna felt the head of that great, thick cock burrow even deeper into her before it pierced her barrier and rested, unmoving, at the very neck of her womb.

Her body ached as if it had been bruised. Her passage, slick with wetness from her tryst with the stranger, clenched around his girth. She had known it was coming—the village did not send tributes to please a mere

nymph—

but the feel of him, so strong and so sure, made her ache.

"Such a good girl," praised the woman again. "A good, strong girl..."

"Aye, strong," said the God, his voice tight with desire. "Good, and strong..."

And when he thrust, withdrawing his cock and guiding it quickly back in, Elianna felt all the breath leave her in a rush, her legs like water as he touched a blinding spot within.

"Let me hear you," said Neru, pulling out once more. Her entire body spasmed, as if jolted by lightning, when his cock moved back in. "Let me hear you, sweeting... do not be shy."

And when the nymph, lovely and glad, touched her once again, she let out a shaking cry of pleasure, and the God began his claiming in earnest.

The woman never faltered as the God drove into his prize. Elianna's breasts, bouncing with each eager thrust, were fondled and kissed. Her core was slick and eager, taking in as much of him as she could, and she felt every pulse of him within her, every movement sure and smooth. He held her by the waist, his hands warm and soft against her, and he fondled her belly as the woman kissed her face, pressing down to feel his thrusting cock within.

The pressure of his hand, combined with his movements and the nymph's eager hands, made her come again and the God leaned down to kiss her, his face aglow with delight.

"Good girl," he praised, even as the release brought her to tears once more. "Good, sweet girl..."

He sped up his thrusts.

"Not long now, my sweet..." said Neru, just as the last of her tremors had ceased. "Not long now..."

At once, the nymph began to work.

Bringing a virgin to her fourth orgasm in one sitting was no easy feat, but as the God's thrusts grew more erratic, the woman knew what she had to do. Her Master would have his son—it had been years, she knew, since the village had sent him a girl—and she knew what must be done in order for the seed to take. She knew the woman would have to come again, at the very moment of release, and she knew just how she would do it.

Neru met the nymph's gaze with a meaningful nod and at once, she took the trembling, whimpering girl in her arms.

"One more, sweeting," she said, kissing the girl on the cheek. She was not sure her voice was heard. "One more fall, darling, and then you'll be as one with the Gods."

The girl began to gasp, her hands scrabbling to take the fingers away as the nymph touched her again.

"One more, doll... only one more."

And when she saw the beginning of her Master's pleasure, she knew just what she must do.

One hand worked on the woman's clit, rubbing circles on the engorged, swollen flesh. Her lips, pressed to the sensitive juncture between shoulder and neck, made gentle kisses with each hard thrust. Together, these brought the girl to the very edge of pleasure, but it would not be enough, she knew, to bring her over the edge.

Neru began to pant, his hands tightening around the girl's waist, and the nymph knew what she must do.

Reaching around, pulling the girl's knee up to her chest, the nymph abandoned her place at the girl's neck. She kept up the pressure on her swollen pearl, never letting up her tight, careful circles, and just as she saw the first pulses of her master's seed spurting into the girl's open passage, she moved her second hand lower, to that tight, quivering rosebud.

One finger was all it took to make the girl explode and when she wailed, so high and sharp that the nymph was sure it would be heard all the way at the beach, she heard her Master's groan.

"A son..." he gasped, holding the writhing, bucking vessel in his large, warm hands. He brought the woman to his chest where she fell limp, weeping a storm of tears as the God finished his final few thrusts. Neru was kind—not like his father or his brothers, who would claim a woman and break her—and when the girl brought her arms up to his neck, he brought her little body up to his. She was spent—the nymph could see how red and swollen her cunny was—but she did not complain when Neru reached around to bring her closer, his large hand pressing over her swollen passage to keep his seed inside.

She only shook, her eyes falling closed.

"Thank you, my dear," said Neru, holding the woman in his strong, gentle hands. "Thank you, darling, for what you will give me."

The woman said nothing.

"Thank you for my son," said the God. "My brand new son."

And in a flash of light, so bright and quick that not even the nymph could catch it, both God and mortal disappeared beneath the churning, black waves.