Thank you Cabron!


WELL!....here is the update! After two long, frustrating years of trying to get something off the ground, I've finished the introduction and first chapter to the new series. Here it is!


Lost at Sea (Part 2)- Good Tidings
Prolouge-Message in a Bottle


My name is Gregory Shoemaker.

To some of you, I’m speaking from beyond Davy Jones’ locker. Though most of you will use my story as proof that I was never gone. You’re right; I was never gone. But neither was Elizabeth Smart or anyone else that has ‘disappeared’. The man you would’ve seen-had you met me before 2006-has long since passed on. But that doesn’t mean I’ve ceased to exist.

Maybe an explanation is appropriate. Alright, in 2006 I stopped living as a man and began my life as a dolphin.

No, you read it right. And wipe that smile off your face.

As you read these words I’m miles away from land, and that’s the way I intend to keep it. While most thought I was living naked on a makeshift raft with a pod of wild dolphins [come on, be honest], that’s not how things are. I’m not just living the life of a dolphin. I AM a dolphin.

How, you ask? Did I meet a wizard and drink a potion? Did I wish upon a star? An old magic tome that summoned Delphi? Nope. The simple story is, I had sex with a dolphin and she turned me into one.

Alright, while you’re shaking your heads in frustration, I’ll tell you exactly what happened to me that pivotal year.

It began after my darling wife, Aimee and I moved into an Oceanside house in Louisiana. It was located on a relatively remote island and the view, in retrospect, was astounding. Typical me, though, a Reno-native; I hated the noise of waves and the humidity could’ve driven me to Seppuku. But my wife, a few months pregnant, was too in love with the place to look elsewhere. And since I was too in love with her to say no, we moved in.

Not even a day into our new house, our lives changed. It started the night we’d moved in. While down at the beach, a curious neighbor (a dolphin) wandered into the shallows and allowed us to get within arms reach. Call me a little crazy, but the dolphin seduced me. I don’t know how, I couldn’t tell you why (well, I could, but you’d think I was awful crazy), but just sitting within arms reach had me under her spell.
The dolphin left and we retired to our home, and her spell left me. But with a chance encounter back at the beach below our abode, I had sex with that dolphin.

Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.

She bit me afterwards, and through an elaborate method my whole body structure changed within a day. Exactly twenty-four hours after I’d been bitten, my transformation took a painful and horrifying turn. By the time I’d stopped changing I had staggered down to the beach and into the surf, where my new Dolphin body lay stranded. By the time day broke I was no longer dazed and was wholly frightened. I mean, how’d you feel if you suddenly turned into an aquatic mammal? Well, that’s not how it was for me. To make matters worse, the posse rounded up to save a ‘stranded young bull’ was lead by my own wife, Aimee. Unable to communicate with her, I was forced into the sea without a clue as to where to go and how long I’d live. But the dolphin was waiting for me.

Isthia was her name. At first, I refused to follow her back to her pod. After she scolded me for not realizing how helpless I am in a dangerous, unfamiliar world, I knew she was right. It wasn’t until we encountered a few sharks that I believed her. Unable to defend myself, she quickly stepped in and warded them off long enough, but at a horrible price. Her flank fell victim to the jaws of one of the sharks and though badly injured, she was able to chase them off. The sacrifice brought out my true feelings for Isthia, and I knew I loved her from then on.

We reached the hypothetical territory of Isthia’s pod, about five miles off the shore of South Padre Island. There I met her family- Otis, the oldest male and recently elected alpha; Derryl, Otis’ son and unrelated by blood to Isthia; Spinner, her true sibling, and her mother. Otis went against his own decrees and let me in after I hastily improvised a story about myself. Derryl, being younger and smaller than I was, must’ve felt I was a threat to be the next alpha (only three males in the pod) and never showed a smidgen of liking me.

Isthia devoted her time to teaching me memes dolphins learn out of the womb. It was a long and arduous training session, but with the help of Spinner (who never once questioned my‘ forgetting’ to swim and hunt) we made it. Over time, I began to enjoy my new life and, with the exception of Aimee, I didn’t miss my old one.

Tragedy, however, was only waiting for us to settle in. One day, Derryl returned to the pod in a state of hysteria, a rare thing to see from such a stoic dolphin. He almost broke down as he told us what happened- while hunting, a fisherman’s net snagged him. It was only after Otis pushed him out that he was caught for good. No body was found, but Derryl insisted that Otis was losing consciousness long before the net had risen. A terrible muck hung over the pod like red tide, and Isthia and I grew nervous to learn Derryl was the new alpha-male, meaning we could be separated in no time. Isthia had gotten pregnant and the thought of leaving my other family was too much to bear. However, Derryl couldn’t think about us, for he was looking to gain revenge on humans.

His idea of revenge was to display dominance in a coordinated attack against swimmers and fishermen. Unable to let it happen, I promptly put a stop to his tirade. Though it saved the swimmers, it only reminded him of how much he hated me. Right away he ordered the pod to migrate with him, and I wasn’t allowed to join them. Derryl even decreed he would kill me if we met again. I had no choice but to change back to a human.

While I had been away, Aimee lived through hell. Her attempts to try to find me were seen merely as a publicity stunt and her name became a household punch line. She’d since moved out from the house except for a retreat. Just my luck, I wasn’t there when she was. Unable to cope I decided, one way or another, to find Isthia and have her change me back.

And was I in luck. Isthia pulled me from the choppy sea and I was able to convince her to change me back. She told me that she’d left her pod before the migration to stay near me. Another sacrifice from my mate…

Aimee did eventually return, and the note I’d left her served as a finally boiling point. As she tried to drown herself in the surf, I was there to stop her. Once Aimee recognized the friendly dolphin was none other than her Gregory, she was overcome. We spent the day with one another in the shallows, knowing it’d be impossible for our relationship to continue. The media constantly hounded my wife, and the two of us realized the discovery of our rendezvous would only complicate things for her. I couldn’t let my wife continue to suffer, so we said our final goodbyes. As a man I never cried- as a dolphin, I only wish I could’ve.

If you’ve paid attention to the headlines, I’m sure by now a new victim has been found and my wife’s name forgotten. I only wish her the comfort and peace she truly deserves. My secret is kept safely with her.

But to the rest of the world, Gregory Shoemaker’s whereabouts are unknown. As my wife told them, I was simply Lost at Sea.

And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

This post has been edited by beavis69 on Oct 26 2008, 06:27 AM

Chapter 1- Hurricane Alley
#1, date 8/22/08



“Gregory?”

Dolphins are the oddest animals. You could consider a platypus or deep-sea krill equally as odd, but they are not; they’re just different. Everything seems natural to them but almost alien to people because, technically, it all is. A dolphin, on the other hand, holds too many resemblances to man. They have intelligence unseen in the animal kingdom, as well as strong needs for social interaction. Like man, they also kill and rape over a single contrast. Many believe the three super mammals- humans, apes and dolphins- all originated from the same ancestor. And with the similarities, it’s hard to argue otherwise. But even if dolphins could be man’s oldest ancestor, they continue to awe us with their differences.

The main variation between man and the dolphins is they use coitus as a tool in communication. Swim belly to belly, and two friends or pod-mates will show their bond’s strength through gentle or playful mating. Chase and swoop, and you’ll know these dolphins are friends in an orgy or trying to show dominance. Though the most common reason behind cetacean sex is- well, it feels great! In any given pod, spanning oceans and sea-parks, you might find a young dolphin-a calf- mating with its mother. You wouldn’t be surprised to find two males docking sheaths, their tail holes too small for entry. It’s possible even to see anywhere from four to eighteen male dolphins taking turns on a single female.

Many are shocked to learn this. How is the most good-natured, intelligent, family-friendly animal icon really a sex-crazed pervert? Is it still possible to go to Sea World without strange thoughts? Did they ever have to rescue Sandy when Flipper got too randy? If these questions weren’t so silly, there might be an answer available.

“Gregory.”

Weird questions. Real questions from normal, sincere people. This proves that when it comes to curiosity, both species are equally unbiased about it. Simply put, humans and dolphins are both relentless when it comes to getting their questions answered. Scientists affirm that the dolphin brain is not only larger than but also equally as complex as a human’s is. Yet, any dolphin will go ballistic when it finds a shiny object on the seabed. The reason? The object is new. While humans have a vast collection of theories and facts, dolphins can only guess over things their parents never taught.

“Gregory!”

Curiosity! It fuels knowledge, right? Wasn’t that how the saying went?

“Hey, wake up!”

Maybe it was the one about cat killing. But that’s just morbid. If they like fish too, they can’t be all that bad.
SMACK!
“Huh?”

Oh, I was micro sleeping. I miss dreaming, but it is sort of nice to relax and have a philosophical trip.

The sea around me suddenly came into view. Before, it would look like a desert of opal blue. Now, thanks to a trained eye and super senses, there was almost too much to take in. Whales singing miles in the distance, sharks patrolling for prey, assorted species zipping between the weeds and rocks either in pursuit or in avoiding it- and those are just what you can see and hear. I can tell the water around me has extra brine, meaning either my mate or I had to relieve ourselves recently. The water feels warmer, much more than usual, and the wind above is churning up the sea. Yes, it is very much alive.

But there was only one creature alive that made me thankful it was so. And there she hovered in the current, her fleshy tail gyrating the water around her to keep still. When her tail came my direction, I could see a large, circular patch of white on her flank. I felt a twinge of guilt and looked elsewhere. Along her deep silver body I could see minute, black scars, marks from her younger years. I could see her underbelly as well, for it curved towards the seabed at a sharper angle than yesterday. Only two seasons left before she gave birth, six months too many.

“Good morning, Isthia”

The last I could remember, we were hunting several miles out from the shallows. The schools were easy to round up and shave off without a seabed getting in the way. I’d gotten my fill and rested, never actually sleeping without the risk of drowning. Before we’d found a suitable sized school, Isthia had mentioned something about approaching danger. Since I couldn’t see or taste any blood in the water I figured sharks weren’t it.

“Good morning, Gregory” Isthia responded, her voice and body language normal- but shady. “Feeling better? That chase must’ve worn you out.”

We pumped our tails in unison, tilting port and starboard just right to cut through cross-currents. Swimming to dolphins was much like breathing to humans; while doing it we never gave it much thought, but consciously acknowledging it made our inner rhythm lose track- yeah, try it when you breathe. We never swam to anywhere in particular, mostly because there was too much space to cover. It was never about where to go, but how far before we were satisfied.

“A little bit, yeah. Damn fine fish, I gotta say, but they were acting awfully strange. Did you notice that?”

Isthia spun to her left, pushed by a current. I followed quickly. “No, I didn’t. How strange?”

“Well, it was like they didn’t even care we were after them. I know fish are stupid, but I didn’t have to buzz a single one. They even balled up in just a few minutes.”

That sort of behavior was odd. Understandably, a school will realize we’re nearby and try to scatter, leaving the weak ones to be eaten. Today though, they moved inwards and kept in a tight ball. This made plucking the fattest fish off the edges far too easy.

Isthia didn’t reply. My mate could be called many things, and vocal was one of them. To not hear a ready reply was indeed something to be concerned about.

“Love? A penny for your thoughts.”

Whatever Isthia was about to say was caught before escaping. Dolphins don’t have idioms, nor an equivalent, which is why I loved using them. Isthia despised knowing I could confuse her about something.

“I mean, tell me what you’re thinking. You’re obviously worried about something.” Still, she swam silently, bumping me off course by accident in the strong undercurrent. That wind churned this sea up something fierce.

“Well…” she began, eliciting a twinge of fear within me. Be it crass, be it blunt, be it miles out of the blue, my mate always said what was on her mind without hesitation. That is, unless it was news that couldn’t be broken easily.

“Well? Well what! Give!”

She shot a glare; a glare of annoyance. “Gregory, this is very serious. You’ve seen how bad the wind is at the surface, and its starting to mix up these-” once again she bumped into me, pushing me into an impromptu barrel roll. “-currents. Yeah, you see? And the water is much warmer than usual. I haven’t been alive very long, love, but lately I’ve noticed these signs occur more frequently. Two years ago it was almost constant.”

I rolled my eyes around some, trying to regain equilibrium. “Ok, Isthia, I think I see where you’re going.”

“Exactly. Only this time, it’s much worse. MUCH worse, Gregory. Years ago, the signs weren’t this strong. But I have a bad feeling about this one, love. A HORRIBLE feeling.”

I tilted my head vertically as my tail hit a downbeat, propelling my body upwards. As I felt the tip of my dorsal fin break the surface, I cocked my tail up and arched my back. Forcing all the air out of my lungs, I quickly opened my blowhole and let the sea breeze push itself into my body before the waves blocked the sun’s scorching rays from my back. The blowhole slammed shut and I whipped my tail down, propelling myself back to Isthia’s level. “Ouch. It‘s so hard to get near the surface for air. Maybe we’re near the equator.”

“Sigh… We’re still in the gulf. Only a hundred and eighty miles from the shore. That’s why I’m worried.”

Denying it wouldn’t solve a thing. She knew humans could figure out hurricanes before they happen (‘funky magic’, the word she learned on the same radio this information came from) and I knew it too. There was no doubt this was the right weather to spawn a hurricane. And to know in addition that the ones that form in the Caribbean were awful, this one would be catastrophic.

“Gregory…” Shutting my left eye, I could see Isthia best out of the one closest to her. I knew she demanded my full attention. “It’s about our daughter.”

Ocean? What ocean? Suddenly I could only see and hear Isthia. “What about her? Love, what’s wrong with her?”

“No no. There’s nothing wrong with her.” I was able to see a small flash of a smile in her eyes, which threw me slightly off guard. “It’s the Gulf. These storms are coming quicker and stronger with each season. I’ve seen plenty of them, but hurricanes are different when you’re actually in the water. That’s why I’m worried. She wouldn’t be able to rough out storms as bad as these; even the oldest dolphins end up getting beached in the process. This area simply isn’t safe if things continue the way they are.”

Both eyes closed. What terrible thoughts ran through my mind shouldn’t be dictated. It was a smorgasbord of images, both from the lives of past and present. I saw my wife Aimee sobbing to herself in the recovering room rather than the maternity ward, after hearing the news our child didn’t take their first breath. I could see the child’s toys and clothes being given, not sold, to friends while she looked on in gloom. How hard we’d both worked to have a well-adjusted attitude to childbirth, only to have it blow up in our face. I knew Aimee would’ve cared for our child as well as any mother would; my regret was not being able to hold my son or daughter, and I would’ve done anything to do so. Oh, and my unborn daughter! What precious reward would be lost if I didn’t get her out of safety? Any male dolphin would scoff (or in their case, chuff) at such an idea as caring for the calf, but I didn’t see her as a threat- she is the new life I’d missed out on before! Oh, and to see a sinister sky painted over a wind-churned sea, my poor daughter swimming only to keep herself in place…and her tail locks up, the wind and waves swooping her into a surge that batters the harbor city streets-

“Gregory? Gregory! Are you alright?”

Isthia…she’d saved the imagination of my old life from scrambling my current brain again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

She’d circled back around and was now at my other side, her underbelly tilted my way only a margin. Her pectoral fin brushed my flank numerous times, lowering my pulse. “That’s what I’m asking you. Why were you whimpering like that?”

“I…just too many old memories. And some future memories.” I picked my words carefully, not daring to let on exactly what I’d been envisioning. Isthia had an uncanny knack for that.

She slowly released a bit of air. I watched the bubbles rise to the surface. “You’re worried about her too, then? I thought so…honestly, she was the only thing resting uneasy on my mind. If we remove the Gulf, we remove the danger.”

There was that knack, God bless her. Even if she knew what I was thinking she dragged it out of me until I could only help but acknowledge it.

“Okay, Isthia…you win. I mean, you’re right. Our daughter shouldn’t have to grow up in these conditions. Hurricane Alley, that’s what the Gulf’s become. She deserves to grow up out in the open sea, facing problems she can learn to avoid and defeat.” Sharks are far less frightening as a hurricane, at least in our ways.

Isthia began to slow her pace. While before she’d been trying to pull the main idea by giving me the cold stare, her stony face suddenly filled with respite and relief that looked absolutely stunning. I would suffer through hours, even days, of her icy stare if I knew she’d be just as gorgeous as before once I’d accredited her idea. It was the driving force behind my childish ignorance.

“That’s great, Gregory, but the question is- where do we go? We can’t go south; the storms would only be worse there. If we go west we’d never escape the gulf and hold a higher chance of becoming beached. Our only option is east.”

Oh boy, another argument. Better get some ice with your drink, Greggy.

“East? That’s where the old pod went. No offense to your family, but I’d rather not see any of them again. Except Spinner, but you know how strong her ‘herd mentality’ is. No, we should go north along the US coast.”

Isthia sighed, reaching her limit and surfacing to catch a breath. I waited patiently for her to sink the few meters to me.

“Derryl came from the northeastern coast. The few times I asked him- or, rather, Otis- about the area he said the sharks were just as bad, the storms had higher surges, and the only difference was the temperature. You don’t have enough body fat to stand the water.”

To dolphins, being called skinny was an insult. “Now, just a minute-”

“No, only a second. Time’s up. Now, anyway, the northeast wouldn’t be our best option.”

I chuffed, forgetting I was below the surface. After rushing up to get rid of the water and catch some air, I spiraled down to Isthia’s level.

“Well then, what’s your plan? We have to go somewhere, but none of these ideas work.”

“Hmm…I’ve got it. We sit here and scan the water around us. There’s got to be a current along here.”

So, we sat. I moved closer to Isthia, resting my melon (head) upside down on top of her cape (area of back between blowhole and dorsal fin). She started to scan first, then I cut in. The ocean appeared to light up around us. It was water before, but now we could see every miniscule plankton and every whirlpool created by the churning of the sea. It went on for miles, the water a simple black and all objects within our line of sight as grayish, high definition blurbs. We scanned for what felt like hours, until I let out an annoyed click and grunted, “What good is THIS going to do, Isthia? We’re probably too far away from the-”

“Oh! Oh! I found it!”

“Hah! I knew it! Where’s it at?”

Isthia swam in small, tight circles squealing at top pitch, an almost embarrassing caricature for happy dolphins. “It’s to the north! We can catch that and take it down along Florida, then southeast to open, safer waters! Oh Gregory! We’re going to make it out this time!”

While she cheered, I’d been searching in vain for the current. It was then that something killed whatever enthusiasm I’d had before.

“Uh…Isthia…how far away is the current?”

“Oh, probably fifty miles at the closest part. That’s the best part!”

“And which way is the Florida tip?”

“You brine-stained fish! Why does that matter?”

“Well…if you can find the tip of the Florida coast, face about ten degrees south. You’ll see.”

She didn’t protest much, just tilted on her side and waved her fins, in disregard of dignity while under the influence of joy. Her echolocation came to an abrupt stop, cut off like a drunkard’s fingers in shop class. “Oh…that’s not good.”

“Not good? That’s a hurricane. I hope it’s not, but the water in that area doesn’t match the rest of the sea….here, I’ll check at the surface.”

I tilted completely vertical and began my ascent, spiraling to cut through the water with less resistance. Once at the surface, I let my head fall forward without moving my body. I took no notice of the relentless sunbeams pelting my back. Sure enough, out in the distance almost too far to fathom, a faint wall of grey stood out like a bruise against the slightly cloudy sky. I heard a chuff next to me and saw my mate spy-hopping (the maneuver I just told you about) next to me. Her eyes deepened in fear.

“Gregory…that’s right in our way! What are we going to do??”

I closed my eyes slowly. “We’re going to go. What else can we do? If we wait, it’ll still get to us. We’re better off trying to find shelter when it gets too bad…”

She listened, but never once did I see her pupil face my way. They were deadlocked on the disturbing clouds out in the distance. I turned her way and flicked my tail lightly, just enough to push my rostrum up and over hers. I pressed slightly, feeling no resistance from her own bottle-nose. My backup (i.e., my pec fin) began to caress along her side and underbelly beneath the surface. She shivered only slightly, her eyes closing somewhat. To see her scared filled me with utter hopelessness, but I knew she needed a little push before she could take leadership of the expedition.

“Isthia, I know you’re scared. Believe me, I’m frightened. But you know as well as I do that staying here will only make it worse. Right now you’re carrying the very reason we’re migrating in the first place, and neither of us can let her down. No matter what happens on this trip, my life will always be moments away from being taken just so you and her can live. The storm will be rough to swim through, but we’re better to stay close to land and hope that will steer it away from our path. Our only chance is now, to get into the current as quickly as possible. I love you, and I know you love me, and we both love our daughter…that’s why we need to be brave and get this long journey started as soon as possible. Alright?”

I never stopped stroking Isthia’s body. As my words became more encouraging, her flippers fluttered a little under the water. Whatever convincing she’d needed, I must’ve succeeded in that task. We pulled our head down below the waves, pausing to bask in the refreshing chill of the saltwater. Isthia touched her rostrum to mine and buzzed me, causing my mind to scatter in ecstasy.

“Gregory, I’ll see to it that your life is never threatened as bad that calls for sacrifice. We’ll only make it if we stay together, and I mean CLOSE together, or any shark or surge will separate us in some way. But once we’re in the clear, open sea…we’ll know it was worth it. Won’t we?”

I opened my rostrum and pressed my tongue to Isthia’s rostrum tip. She twittered pleasantly, the sound that never failed to make my bones turn to mush.

“Yes, my mate, we will. And our daughter will never know the life she missed out on having. Better not to let her know, maybe. Let her only know the life we’ve given to her. We ought to start leaving, though. That last wave nearly rolled me over.”

Isthia gave a click for agreement. We used our echolocation, buzzing all surrounding areas, until we found the remnants of the gulf current. It would pass us along all the southern US states, and down the inner coast of Florida. If we were lucky, the hurricane would curve past us once it hit the Florida peninsula. We didn’t count on it, but it was the only thing that gave us a sense of security.

Isthia, my personal GPS, was the first to find the current. She hesitated for a moment, then darted off in what looked like any random direction. I watched her tail rise and fall as she swam, seeing her pregnancy-diagnosed underbelly sway in the current. She had to call me before I could even think of swimming after her.
END OF CHAPTER 1

This post has been edited by beavis69 on Oct 26 2008, 06:33 AM

wow beavis! i just finished reading pt 1 and the beginning of pt 2! its great story! i love it! please keep it up! :w00t:

Why thank you :) But, keeping up to my usual stigma, chapter two is coming along slowly. Lots of work, classes, and a play to top it off :( Not much free time.

Wow, a whole month? If I'm hoping for around 20 parts, this could take a LONG time :lol:


Anyway, here's chapter two!

Ch.2- The Alley Fights Back

Some hours later, the water warmed up around us. The change was noticeable, as were the constant forces pushing against us. The current was a river under the ocean surface, following a set path that was miles wide and an entire gulf long. Being as tired as we were, coasting through these forces rewarded our aching muscles and allowed time to recuperate.

"Well...only a matter of time before the hurricane reaches us." I sighed, my voice lacking whatever could be considered emotion.

"Don't worry. If we stay close enough to land there’s a chance of finding a grotto when the waves get too high.”

Somehow, I didn’t feel any better. Just because she SAID we could find a cave didn’t mean we would…in fact, they were surprisingly uncommon.

The sea-life around us died to an eerie calm. As any Midwesterner will tell you, the animals know when a storm’s coming, evidenced by odd behavior and a bone-chilling stillness. They are right; I could tell exactly which direction the hurricane was coming and about how far away it was from us. This only added to that nagging voice telling me to swim the other direction. Even Isthia had a shaky flipper when she noticed the change.

Several miles down the current and we were hardly able to swim. As close to land as we were, the swells steadily increased in size. They pushed us hard enough that occasionally we stopped and bad to use our signature whistles to find each other. Isthia mentioned that if she ended up on shore I was to keep swimming until I found shelter. That’s when I lost hope.

We breached less as the air chilled; the spray from crashing waves made breathing almost impossible. Wind lifted the sea upwards, pushing against the land before toppling back onto itself like a clumsy child with untied shoes. The water darkened into a frightful aquamarine green, with a visibility of less than five meters. Even with our echolocation, all we could see was seabed and shore…the pressure of the swells made it difficult for the sound waves to return.

My lower flanks ached, protesting for the continuous effort after such a long journey. Nevertheless, I splayed my pectoral fins straight out to cut against the force of the waves; my tail began to pump in overtime with little forward movement.

“Isthia!”

She was gone. I whistled at the same pitch I used to introduce myself to new dolphins or tell Isthia where I was-my signature whistle. I waited for hers.

No whistle. A sense of hopelessness overcame me, and I felt I could push the surges back out to sea with its force.

“Isthia!”

Suddenly, my entire body dropped several feet down. I shut my eyes and held my fins straight out, perpendicular to my body. As if pulled by the force of God, I felt my body rise with the sea at an almost nauseating swell. This was the storm surge. This was the hurricane.

A sharp pain in my tail fin, or fluke, brought my senses back underwater. Isthia, with her teeth locked on my tail, frantically roused me from within the darkness.

“Gregory, hurry up! I just found a small cave we can stay in. But it’s going to take all our effort; NOW LET’S GO!”

The ocean came to life, sharply contrasting the few moments before. The water stirred, pushed, and pummeled anything solid. It felt more as if we were trapped in floodwaters than in the vast desert of sea. Above, the winds lifted roared with a ferocity that was unmatched by anything I had heard before. Sand swirled in the water, kicked up by waves, lessening the visibility to legal blindness. Had I focused more on the surroundings I was in, and not just what was impossible to ignore, you would hear me describe it all. However, at that moment in time, all that mattered was hearing Isthia’s voice and heading to what would soon be our safe-haven.

The grotto Isthia discovered cut into the side of a rather large cliff along the shore. It was located roughly six meters below the surface and pointed down near the entrance. A few feet inwards and the direction shifted, turning vertical. The water filling this inner chamber fluctuated as the ocean rose and fell, but was otherwise calm. Just the thought of it eased my racing heart.

A minute passed and we continued to swim through the dark narrow channel. There was a shared, unspoken sense of anxiety between us that there wouldn’t be air at the end of the tunnel. It’d been at least five minutes since I had a sufficient breath, and while it wasn’t my maximum amount of time without air, it was quite uncomfortable. I made a conscious effort to keep my blowhole shut tight and not waste air through communication. The chasm evened out, widening with every passing inch, but still completely waterlogged. Fate was toying with us. Surely it’d be grim irony to drown in a water while finding refuge from getting beached.

But no! The water pressure started to decrease, indicating the tunnel had opened up farther. In a second I felt the freezing, glossy surface of the cave’s floor, marked with frictionless pebbles carefully cleaned by centuries of wave actions. In the absence of light, I could not tell the location of the surface nor if Isthia was still with me. However, I was aware that wherever we were, there was a large pool filled with seawater and a gentle slope leading back to the tunnel.

I felt a sudden cold, relatively dry breeze on my back. Wasting no time, I raised my cape up and pushed the rest of my air out. I took in a large volume of rank, chilly air before allowing myself to sink back below the surface. Above, I heard another loud chuff followed by the water regaining its surface tension.

Squeaking excitedly, I rushed towards the sound without remembering how blind any sensible creature would be in these conditions. When the idea of echolocation entered my mind and was put to use, what came back instantly was an image of Isthia’s flank, a mere centimeters away. It had just registered in my mind when a painful blow to the melon knocked it back out.

“Gregory! Tell me that’s you! I want to know if you’re in here. And if you are, I will swiftly exterminate you for being so stupid!”

What a gal, eh?

As I shook my thoughts back into my head, like a faulty magnet undergoes when being magnetized, I felt faint prickles on my skin from Isthia’s sonar. The prickling strengthened, but were cut short by that familiar nudge I’ve grown to adore.

“You made it! We made it! Oh Gregory, I thought I’d lost you in the tunnel!” She was warbling excitedly, something that reminded me of two-legged women on the verge of tears. “But it doesn’t matter now. I can’t see anything in here, but we’ll be safe as long as we conserve oxygen. If this grotto doesn’t lead to the air above, it means we’re relying on algae to support our breathing.”

The only thing left to do was wait. The hurricane could last only a day or two, or it could be a week before the waters were safe again. Many things raced through my mind; what exactly was this place? Is it as safe as Isthia said it would be? I’m so hungry. These waves are making me dizzy.

Time passed. Isthia spent much of her time swimming slowly in large arcs, buzzing the submerged cave walls to avoid any jagged protrusion. After some time, maybe a few hours, she didn’t need to scan anymore. She was silent from then on out, circling to ease her growing tension. My time was spent half out of water, my melon and rostrum resting on the chilly, glass-like surface of the shore. I, too, tried to gain a good view of the cave. Each time I tried, needless to say, the walls created uneven echoes and the picture came back distorted, vibrant, almost like something one would see on LSD. This only heightened my stress and soon I was back underwater, shaking my snout violently to regain my senses. All I knew about this cave was it was large, freezing, and just round enough to screw up my echoes.

“You’re not the only one, you know” Isthia bleakly remarked, “those echoes were hitting me, too. A few more seconds and I would’ve bitten your fluke again.”

Time passed slowly. We spoke very little, mostly in relation to conserving oxygen. Isthia never ceased her circles as it went against her lifelong nature to remain in constant motion. I, however, relaxed in one spot far away from her, worrying a violent release of stress if I were to get in her way.

I counted the intervals between when the sea rose and when it fell. Surprisingly, most had a space of 10 seconds. To keep myself occupied, or at least from going crazy, I began to count each time the water in the cave lowered and rose.

It was 6,149 dips (a little over 17 hours) before the wait became unbearable. I paused, realizing for the first time that I couldn’t hear my mate swimming. After a quick scan, I noticed she was micro-sleeping directly above the chasm leading to the sea.

I gave my signature whistle to get her attention. She didn’t stir. Even after calling hers, she was deep into micro sleep as one could get. Finding it suspicious, as any dolphin can still sense things around them while resting, I figured she was ignoring me.

“Oh, alright.” I said aloud, “So you think just because you found the place you’re the only one here? I see.”

After chuffing loudly at the surface, I sank back below the waves and pointed towards the opening of the hole. Scanning carefully, I aimed at the hole and swam in, feeling the water squeeze tighter than before. I followed the curve of the channel downwards a few more yards. Unable to see, save for my echolocation, the urge to feel back to the pool was overwhelming. But my plan to get Isthia’s attention was too good to pass up. I traveled a few more feet before stopping, planting my rostrum against one wall and my tail against the opposite, wedging myself in place.

Six dips passed. Surely she’ll be awake soon.

Ten dips. Well, I can hold up.

Fifteen dips. A breath would be lovely right now.

Twenty five. Damn it, Isthia! Wake up!

Thirty dips. Alright, if she wants to see me, she’ll find my bloated cadaver sunk towards the entrance of the grotto.

Thirty five. Help! I think I’m stuck! Someone get me-

“Gregory!! Gregory! Where are you?”

Oh yeah, thanks love. Why not check the whole cave before coming down the tunnel?

It was a few seconds before I was able to turn myself around and face the entrance to the main cave, back to where Isthia was. I swam frantically, the thought of oxygen keeping my body from calling quits. Eventually going into overdrive, I shot out of the entrance and, by pure accident, out of the main pool. Chuffing while in mid-air, I landed with a hard smack against the dry, glossy surface of the cave floor.

“Gregory, if that’s you on the beach, I demand you get back into the pool. I’m going to snap your spinal column.” Came the bittersweet call from my lover inside the pool. Feeling no water on my flukes, my fright rose to where it was before I’d gotten a breath. Oh, you stupid fool! What were you thinking?

“Oh, you stupid fool!” Isthia said, her jaws locked tightly around my tail as she sunk back into the pool. “What were you thinking?” In reality, I had been only a few inches from the waterline, and she was able to spot me and gain a firm grip on my tail. By following the curve of the pool floor, she was able to drag me back into the water.

“Well, what did you expect? I thought you were ignoring me. Thanks for being the true romantic and rescuing me from the tunnel, by the way.” I sarcastically replied, shaking my tail to ward off the constant stinging pain.

“Gregory…give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now. All you’ve done this whole trip is complain and demand my attention! You OBVIOUSLY do not understand how serious a situation this is.”

“Serious? I know how serious this is. You’ve been serious since we first found the direction of the current. Sorry for trying to lighten the mood, I figured SOMEONE had to do it.”

By now, we were swimming in tight circles, snapping our jaws loudly while we spoke. Isthia retorted, “Being a fool isn’t lightening the mood! You’re only stressing me out and making things worse! I hate being cramped in here as much as you do, but until this god damn storm passes over us, there’s nothing we can do!”

God damn? Radios and dolphins apparently don’t mix.

“Isthia, you’re taking this too far! We’re safe, aren’t we? Thank you for finding this place! There, I said it. What else do you want? I’m sorry if I can’t sit here and wait with someone as cranky as you!”

Well, that did it. Somehow, I relied on Isthia’s sturdy common sense to keep her from losing her mind in the dark, but it did no good. For nearly sixteen dips we chased each other furiously, biting whatever flesh we could find and shaking our rostrums hard enough to fracture Sapien bones. I garnered several large scars along my flank, underbelly, and cape due to Isthia’s feral instincts and protruding rock walls. We could sense blood in the water, but knew no shark large enough to be a threat would make it through the tunnel.

Don’t ask why we fought. Dolphins are far from peaceful animals, despite being highly social. It’s not uncommon for dolphin calves to give each other scars even during regular play. A mother dolphin attacking her juvenile son was not taboo, and mates like Isthia and I constantly fought, even to the point of drawing blood (which was considered bad luck, sharks and all, but still common). In the end, we fought to relieve stress and, hopefully, erase our trip up to this point and start fresh.

I sat in the far end of the pool, by the beach. Isthia resumed her spot over the tunnel. An hour passed (six-hundred dips) before my stress levels had reached a neutral pace. In place of high tension, there came an excruciating feeling of guilt and self-hatred. Left-over human emotions, sure, but powerful nonetheless. I knew Isthia was right; being a selfish clown wasn’t helping the situation at all. It pained me, regardless of my new instincts, to know I hurt Isthia in any form.

I slid back into the pool and turned around, facing the direction I instinctively knew my mate was in. Slowly, I swam towards her general area. By chance, the first thing I happened to touch was the spot directly behind her left pectoral fin (one of her ‘love spots’, an extra sensitive region). Knowing this, I gently pressed the tip of my snout further into her layer of blubber. To my surprise, she didn’t make any positive or negative response; she merely sat silently.

“Isthia?” I whistled softly. She was ignoring me again. I felt my heart sink, weighing my entire body down. After rising back up again, I pressed against this love spot and rolled onto my side. Using my pectoral fin, I delicately caressed her. “Isthia…I’m sorry. You were right. I’ve never experienced a hurricane from this perspective, and its much more intolerable than I thought. But I never should’ve taken it out on you.” A dip sucked the water from the pool, bringing me straight up against her body. She remained silent, staying in one place. “Isthia, I love you. I love our daughter. This is the worst possible time for me to stress the two of you. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I know now. Taking for granted that we’re entirely safe in here is foolish, but you showed me that.” The warmth of her body relaxed me, a wonderful contrast between the temperature of the pool. Feeling her silky skin, lined here and there with rougher scars, sent shivers down my still unbroken spinal column. “You mean the world to me. It’s unbearable to see you so stressed. I wanted to help you out, but I didn’t know it was making it worse. I didn’t know just how tense you were. I’m sorry.”

A pair of pectoral fins interlocked in front of mine. A snug, warming sensation suddenly covered the entire length of my underbelly. As often as I’d felt this, it still sent a quivering tremor throughout my body. Isthia had me in her embrace, and I was fine to stay there another seventeen hours. Maybe more.

“Gregory,” Isthia cooed, her tone firm but splashed with affection, “hurricanes bring out bad memories in me. There’s something I’ve never told you.”

“What is it, my love? You can tell me; I won’t even interrupt you. I just want you to stay how you are.”

She gave a few short clicks, something that could be translated into a flattered smile. “That’s sweet of you…but this isn’t. It happened when I was still a calf…it will tell you why this storm has brought out the worst in me.”

I listened intently. Still locked in Isthia’s grasp, we floated there as she told me her story. Years ago, a few weeks after Isthia had been born, a category five hurricane (‘one that lasted an entire week’) hit the gulf. During that time, Isthia and her mother were a single sub-pod that occasionally rendezvoused with their main group. The two of them were caught in six foot swells and searching desperately for a hideout. Along the way, they came upon an orphaned calf, a young female roughly Isthia’s age. She’d been banished from her own pod a month before the storm and had been searching for protection since then. Isthia’s mother, the kind matriarchal figure she was, allowed the other dolphin to follow them. “She said ‘the more we have, the safer we are. Just whistle your name if you get drug out too far!’”. They were still out in open water when the first of the storms hit. Imagining Isthia as a small, frightened calf seemed to out of the ordinary I almost laughed, but suppressed it. “The only shelter we could find was a tiny inlet, open to sea but with a sturdy overhang to break the waves. I saw how frightened this other dolphin was, and I started talking to her. I asked her about her life with her old pod, and instead of recalling bitter memories she spoke happily of living near the coast of Brazil, swimming with her brothers through the Amazon River outpour and feeling the strange freshwater against their skin. She talked about navigating fishermen through dangerous rock areas by getting their attention and swimming through the invisible safe zones, keeping her dorsal fin above the water at all times. She said they would throw her fish from all over the ocean, including some from up river, in return for the services. But she never gave her name, not that it mattered.” According to Isthia, they spoke during the entire ordeal while her mother kept watch for calming waters. As the story progressed, Isthia’s voice became softer, almost mournful. “The eye had just passed us when the second storm surge hit. It filled our entire shelter with water. My mother snapped the tip off her dorsal fin when she hit the roof, it was so intense. And when the water fell back down…” Suddenly Isthia paused, whimpering like she was the orphaned calf, but continued before I had time to suggest otherwise. “The sea sucked her out. Fast. It didn’t even look like she had a moment to react. She made no noise, didn’t even try to fight the force. I thought she would just swim back in, but as she reached the mouth of the shelter…..she slammed into the edge of the standing rock wall with a chilling snap. All I heard from her was a loud, pained squeal before she went limp and was pulled out of sight. I wanted to go after her but…” Her whimpering interfered with her words. Isthia’s eyes were clamped shut, as if the event was reoccurring in front of her and she had to shield herself from it. I crossed by rostrum with hers and pressed my body closer. In my grasp, I felt her entire body trembling. “Mom tried to go after her, but another swell pushed her back into the shelter. All we could do was wait. And we did. We waited a whole week, stuck in that wretched little enclosure. I had my mother’s milk, but she had nothing and didn’t even care. The whole time I swam in circles, listening to hear the orphan’s whistle and finally learn her name. But I never heard her.” At this moment, Isthia broke from my embrace and surfaced, sinking back down with the same lonesome drift as a sinking ship. “The storm finally ended….and we both set out to look for her. My mother kept me tucked under her flank, like most mothers do to their calves, while she surveyed near the surface. I scanned out into open water, and my mother scanned towards the land. I knew what it would mean if she stopped abruptly, but it tore my heart in two when she did. I tried to get to the surface but my mother forced me underwater, ordering me to follow her as fast as I could out towards the open water. She never told me what happened until a year later. The orphan hadn’t died of exposure, as she was pelted by rainwater and occasional swells, and her injuries didn’t cause mass bleeding, only paralysis. In the end, it was starvation that had killed her….there’s more to this, if you-”
“I don’t.”
“Me either.”

I approached Isthia cautiously, almost afraid this recalled memory would cause another outburst. Instead, as I rewrapped my pectoral fins around her, she went limp in my grasp and let the entire length of her body intertwine with mine. Her tail locked against mine, her pecs placed tenderly at my sides…I just wanted to smother her in affection. Her whimpering had died down, slowly, but I could still feel a depressive sense of hopelessness in her mood. She asked me for comfort through her actions, something I gratefully returned through licks, caressing, and nudging.

“That’s why I hate hurricanes, Gregory.” She said at one point, her pitch an octave higher than before. “I don’t just believe they can take lives. I know they can. I’ve seen them do it before. I’ve seen it happen every time a hurricane has come this way. Our pod was much larger before you came around, love, which was right after the worst season yet. When you were gone…….I thought you were just following the trend.”

Ohh…who was I? The cruel prank I played on Isthia an hour ago hit me so hard I thought the grotto was caving in. I’d hurt her the second it came into my head that she was ignoring me. She was never ignoring me, she was repressing her urge to get violent due to stress. I was a horrible mate.

“I’m a horrible mate…” I uttered, my own eyes closed. “I had no idea, Isthia. I’m….I’m… sorry. You’ve been through so much worse. I promise it will NEVER be like that again, my love.” I passionately stroked my rostrum against hers, forcing back tears of my own.

We stayed in this position another six hundred dips. Each dip lost intensity to it’s predecessor, signaling the passing of the storm. Isthia, who’d been softly cooing for the time being, took notice and spoke. “Looks like we should be out of here in no time…” In her deep, gray eyes I saw a small tint of a smile. “We made it, Gregory. You and I. I’ve always wanted someone special to celebrate this with.”

Before I could ask what she meant, she pointed her flukes sharply upwards, creating an acute arc near her pelvic region. Pressing more than firmly, I felt a small patch of heat overlapping my genital slit. She raised this arc up for a second, perhaps not to hurt her muscles, and pushed against me again. This time, however, the warm region had a slight cushion.

“We’ve been stressed and sad all this time. What do you say we lighten the mood for good?”

She didn’t need to convince me any more. Already all the blood from my brain and fins were rushing to my slit, making it hard to think and embrace my love. I clicked loudly, a sure sign of sexual arousal in male dolphins. My slit, which usually felt like another section of my tail, took on a life of its own as an intense pressure and warmth built against the constraining walls. Isthia was enticingly aroused, a large circular spot of warmth marking the area around her slit. Her labia doubled in size, swelling outwards and pressing against my slit. My muscles stiffened all at once, pressing my entire body against hers. In doing so, I felt another swelling at the top of her slit push against my own, stiff enough to feel like the tip of another dolphin penis. But, in fact, it was her clitoris swelling and threatening to burst past her lips. She responded naturally by forcing this stiff spot against my own, the area of my slit directly outside where the tip of my penis tried in vain to break free. Her body became engulfed by waves of quivering, mixed with flexing and relaxing of all her muscles. The arc in her tail region lightened up, replaced by firm pressing against my underbelly before reverting back to my sensitive genital area.

Isthia chuffed loudly, her eyes shut. “Mmm…I’ve been waiting for this the whole trip” She trilled, thrusting her pussy against me. My penis had swollen too far and it was soon unbearable to hold back any longer. I tilted my head towards the floor, pushing my stomach against hers. With a hearty thrust, my pelvis bumped hers. I repeated this quickly, trying to force my cock out from it’s tomb. “Looks like you have, too”, she replied seductively.

The small, tentacle-like tip of my penis had managed to pry out from between the folds of my slit. At the current temperature of the water, it felt as if I’d go into cold shock. However, Isthia swooped her swollen lips down and barely brushed my tip, forcing my body to spasm wildly. She prepared to position her pussy directly in line with my cock once erected, but I had other plans. I felt a large knot at the top of her slit, her clitoris, and thrust my tail upwards. She barely had time to make a sound as the first few centimeters of my member pushed easily past her genital slit and pricked at her clitoris.

Her jaws gaped wide in a silent moan. Just the sensation of tightness and heat around my cock-head was plenty to cause my body to arc violently. Her clitoris resisted my tip, swelling even farther and bracing against me. She bucked against my tip, until soon her clit swelled its way outside her slit. Positioning my tip against this rigid, oval organ the size of a thumb, I rolled side to side while brushing my growing cock against her.

“Mmmmph! Gregory, stop teasing me! It’s driving me insane!” She squealed, her voice quavering with the same intensity of her body. She thrust at a rapid pace against me, missing my cock but not bothering to pause and reposition. Males might get more aggressive during sex, but female dolphins are the ones who enjoy it the most. Isthia was no exception.

I wanted to fully erect myself and get it over with. But where’s the fun? The longest males last in the wild is never over twelve seconds. It’s just not the same. Suddenly, a thought came to me. I released Isthia, only to be knocked downwards by one of her thrusts.

“Hmmm..huh? What’s wrong?” She asked, still humping at the empty water.

I shot her a suave glance. “I have an idea. Roll over.”

She rolled over instantly. And she thought I wanted top. Bless her.

I scanned her once or twice. In the return echoes, I could see her clitoris bulging outwards, a rare sight in the wild. I leveled myself with her and swam up to her slit, clutching her flanks with my pecs to steady her and calm the thrusts. She lay there, her eyes shut, anticipating a mating session. But I had other plans.

The thought of the prank I played earlier almost ruined my mood. It stayed, but my cock shrunk back in at the lack of attention to escape the freezing water. Meanwhile, I was determined to make things up to her. I scanned, and the second the images returned I could see her erect clitoris sitting directly in front of my rostrum. Isthia trilled loudly, her body twisting in the opposite direction of her tail. Opening my mouth, I could taste her special juices leaking out into the water from her pussy directly below me. It was cruel to make her wait any longer. I scooted closer and, using my last remaining air, buzzed at the lowest frequency possible. My rostrum vibrated, touching ever-so-lightly against the base of her clit. With all the strength I could muster up, I held tightly to her body as she writhed violently. Her clitoris spasm was easily visible, and the contraction I could feel at the entrance of her pussy caused my penis to awaken once more. I buzzed her again, bracing for yet another set of crazed, hormone-induced quivering. Once she’d settled down, I scooted up once more, leaning my rostrum sideways and carefully placing her clitoris between my gaping mouth. Hoping she wouldn’t writhe TOO hard this time, I moved my tongue closer and flicked her clit. She squirmed, taking caution not to get too close to my teeth, and braced for my tongue once more. This time, I slowly drug my tongue along every available spot on her clitoris, feeling it pulse and shiver in relative stillness to her quaking body.

“Ohhhhh….Gregory! I’m so close…you need to do that more some other time!”

Well, I knew when the call was made. Floating up, I felt my fully erect cock brush against her flank. The perfectly glossy skin of her side made my body shudder , my nearly twelve-inch member pulsing by the intense pumping of blood. I made my mark and, ready to finish, thrust my entire length into her. I could feel her equally glossy lips part effortlessly, her vaginal walls expanding for me to enter but quickly squeezing me deeper inside. Her powerful muscles sucked at my cock, pulling my slit against hers, her still erect clit caught mercilessly in-between. After thrusting proved impossible, I pushed my tail against hers while she thrust against me. An intense tsunami rocked my nerves, tensing my muscles, my cock firing a swift and steady stream of cum deep inside my lover. Her labia constricted around my throbbing member, pulling me in as far as my body would allow. I clicked rapidly several times, creating a harmonic tune with Isthia’s whistling. She shuddered fitfully, clutching my body to her with both pec fins while massaging my still throbbing member. Unable to repress it, my own frame shivered at the sudden loss of semen. Isthia’s clitoris slowly began to shrink, hiding back behind its silken alcove.

“I love you, Isthia.”

“I love you too, Gregory”

We stroked our rostrums together once again before breaking off, rising to the surface to gain much needed air. In the end, the actual coitus lasted less than a dip. But it felt like another six-thousand.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Isthia sighed blissfully, a new sense of delight and positivity in her tone, “Let’s get out of this cave. I‘ve been tired of it since we got here..”

Without another word, we swam back down the chasm.




If only we’d accounted for the Eye of the Storm.

This post has been edited by beavis69 on Nov 26 2008, 07:05 AM

(Sarcasm = 9000) Oh no!

How could they forget the eye of the storm even though they had just relieved near unbreakble tension, and had what seemed to be their best session of love yet?

(End Sarcasm)

I hope they get through it ok :unsure: :unsure: :unsure:

I know, I underdid the tension and love-making scene :rolleyes:


Lol. I know what you meant ;) Just wait till they find what's in the storm...Plot development, YAY!

Yay!

♫♪Extend, extend, extend the plot so people will reeeeeeeeaaad moooooore♪♫

Bump ._.

BUMP

EDIT:*for lost at sea part one*
I ignored your advice and went full story in one sitting, best leave LAS2 for tomorrow though...:ENDEDIT

I know it's not a true word in the English language, but this was
FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!

God, I have never cried so much in my life, and even then, I have NEVER cried happy tears like this before. I am totally amazed, impressed, and all those other things I'm just too teary to remember right now.

Beavis, you rule... Like, I don't even know what to say... Brilliant... And a happy ending (YAYA!) Oh, god...
I'm speechless now...

Like I said
Refinement, censoring, longer explanations, filling in of story gaps... You have total greatness.

What I see here, is the base of something that could shake the world...


:rock: :wub: ;) :clapping:

I will seriously read part two soon... Maybe even tonight. Damn... I have to be at work in 6 hours and I have not slept... Will I risk no sleep at all? I'm saying 75% yes once I've checked my hundreds of Messages
:pinch:

This post has been edited by silent_51 on Dec 11 2008, 03:34 AM

:sorcerer: awesome

Wooo!

Can't wait for the next chapter in Part2 ^_^

Uhhh....it hasn't been started yet :pinch: :sorry: Surely anyone who's had finals realizes its effect on your personal life.

God. I went through finals too.
*hands you the brandy*
It's going to be a looonnng few months... :pinch: