The Girl from the Deep

The last thing I remember is her eyes, somehow fascinated by me, but at the same time cold and uncaring. It was the way she looked at my collection of objects.

I woke up with a start, covered in sweat. It was not lost on me that the plague which threatened to rob me of my entire crew had begun the very day that Halia arrived, and yet I could do nothing about it. No shred of evidence connected her to the strange disappearances. No sign of danger or wickedness could be observed in her perfect, gentle soul. But somehow, I knew that it was all connected to her.

"God hath sent his wrath upon this ship," I intoned, "and it is in the form of a woman..."

***

The day finally came, no more than a fortnight from my anticipated arrival in Boston, when I emerged from the cabin to find myself alone on the deck of the ship. Due to the absence of sufficient crew, she had been prepared for a drifting maneuver, as if hoping to pull up alongside another vessel in order that I may make my escape from that accursed, floating tomb.

I surveyed the empty deck as the Valkyrie labored onward across a silent ocean that appeared like an otherworldly sheet of glass. I felt a crushing loneliness and despair. I had failed my crew and failed myself. I felt as if I was a broken man, being led on a slow march toward death. Even the odd, wayward gull, a symbol of how close I had come to reaching landfall, avoided the ship as if it had contracted some vile, island pestilence.

Then, suddenly, I was no longer alone.

Halia rose from the quiet depths of the Valkyrie, like she did every morning, rubbing her eyes as the warm sun splashed across her lovely face, stretching like a child freshly awoken from a deep slumber. Even in that moment I failed to confront her, despite incurring such tremendous losses, for she was as enchanting in that moment as the first time I laid eyes upon her.

She turned and gazed out across the ocean, her eyes pinned to the horizon. Then she turned toward me and smiled. I have always considered myself a pious man, yet here I was confronting the Devil herself, as though I were ready to forgive her for the certain doom I knew she would soon deliver.

She took a step forward, and then another, moving smoothly across the deck toward me, as I stood frozen in fear and, inexplicably, in love. As Halia grew near to me, she raised her hand, not to render a slit through my throat, not to deliver a stab to my chest- rather, she reached out to touch my cheek, gently caressing the rigid contour of my weather-beaten face.

All at once, I became swept up in emotion; the release of endless days of misery, pain, sorrow, and fear. I felt these things flush from my body, as if draining down through my torso and out from my feet. I suddenly felt only love, connected to the touch of a beautiful young woman that had so enchanted me through these many dark days.

Swiftly she removed her clothing, casting them aside as if they caused her a needless grievance. I gazed upon her body with a fierce lust that I could no longer keep contained inside. She held me in her grasp with her soft curves and her swelling bosom. Then she helped me out of my own clothes, finding me already engorged with passion.

She led me backward over the deck, into my cabin, and up against my desk. As if sympathetic to my plight, she reached down and began to caress my aching phallus with the most restorative of touches, filling my very soul with joy and light.

"How could I have ever suspected her?" I thought. "This innocent creature who is the very image of youth and beauty."

I fell back upon my desk, scattering its contents everywhere. She climbed atop me and ran her hands excitedly across my body, then looked down, gazing with admiration at my immense member, throbbing in anticipation. Anxious to get right to it, she raised her hips and began to spread herself open, ready to guide me inside.

"Wait," I said, surprised by her impatience, "Not so quickly." I had imagined she was new at this, perhaps having never been with a man before. If only I had known the real source of her eagerness in that moment, I might have had a chance to escape.

I put my hand on her shoulder and gently guided her downward. She smiled softly, understanding what I desired, then began to plant soft kisses with her tender lips upon my skyward shaft. Her mouth opened and Halia took me deep inside, smoothly guiding my cock into the soft hollow where her tongue began to explore and taste my body with wonder and curiosity. Soon she began to rock her head back and forth, as if mimicking the curl of a slow-moving wave. I began to moan, rendered immobile by the passionate way that she devoutly sucked my cock.

After some time I felt myself spring from her mouth, tingling, aching, moistened by her sweet saliva. Seeing the bliss rendered across my face, she returned to her initial course of action, sliding up along my body, letting my hard cock press firmly against her soft skin, until it reached the tender entrance to her body.

As her lips reached mine, they connected, suddenly locked together by the sheer anguish of pleasure. I began to smell her body; a sweet, feminine odor mixed with the brine of the sea. I tasted the salt on her lips, I felt it lingering in her hair.

Feeling her guiding the head of my cock to her dewy opening, I again blocked her advances, saying, "Be patient, my dear, soon... soon..." She seemed taken aback, but I was determined to allow our mutual passion to build beyond anything she had ever dared to imagine.

Guiding her onto her back, I began to caress and adore her gorgeous breasts, which responded joyfully to my touch thanks to the sensitivity of her delicate nipples. I leaned in, taking them in my mouth one at a time, suckling and nipping at them like a curious fish evaluating its food. She squirmed and laughed, delighted by the sensations I caused her with my amorous teasing. I then buried my face in the deep hollow between her breasts, inhaling deeply and again finding her scent familiar, full of the same exotic aromas often carried aloft by the trade winds.

I moved further south, exploring her body with kisses like she had done to mine, until I reached the soft bloom of hair at the vertex of her legs. I ran my fingers across it, causing her to shiver, then gently stroked her inner thighs. Her body became tense, then eased, then tensed again, as I explored the intimate crevice of her young body. Then I raised one knee, moving it to the side, and did the same with the other.

I gazed in wonder as her hairy mound spread gently apart, revealing her slippery, roseate flesh; fragrant, soft, and glistening with moisture. Unable to resist any longer, I buried my face in her femininity, anxious to taste of the body that held such a tragic power over me. As my tongue navigated her creamy depths, I heard Halia cooing softly. She arched her body and urged me to explore her deeply, fully. I found myself drunk on her sweet, unrelenting juices which began to coat my face and chin. And yet there too I found the faint taste of salt, the distinct flavor of the sea, as if she had absorbed its pure essence.

I found my way to her swollen clitoris, which anxiously awaited my attention. Teasing it in circles from all sides, she became overwhelmed with pleasure, winding her body this way and that as I enjoyed the emissions of her sweet and briny nectar. Then I lovingly worked her clit, driving her full speed ahead into a storm of pleasure. She cried out with such force that I thought I could hear the objects in my cabinet rattling. Halia, suffering an immense gratification, grasped helplessly for me, running her fingers through my hair and pressing me firmly against her body, as I felt her body quake and I tasted the warm rush of her fluids.

We gazed at each other, our bodies straining with heavy breaths. Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared, and had I not known of the sweet release she had just experienced, I might have mistaken her expression for anger. With a decidedly aggressive determination, she seized control of our consummation, rendering me flat on my back, and firmly grasping at my surging erection. She climbed atop my body and, unwilling to wait any longer, spread herself wide. Halia sunk her pelvis down over mine in order to usher my cock deep into her tight, pink canal.

I groaned instantly, having never before felt such perfect contact between a man and a woman. Our bodies fit together with such precision that one could be forgiven for thinking that they were purposefully crafted for one another. Halia began to ride me with such ferocity that she may as well have been trying to torture me with the acuteness of that skillful pleasure.

I watched in awe as her body took me deep inside, over and over, driving deeply and then reemerging with a thick layer of sweet cream that so vividly proclaimed her own indulgences. I gazed up at the joyful, ceaseless vaulting of her young breasts that sprang about with such life and passion, as she bounced happily upon my aching member.

Overwhelmed by the terrific sensations of her body's expert manipulations, I found myself suddenly disappearing for several moments at a time, slipping into a strange space between space and time, before snapping back into a stark reality. My pleasure was interrupted by brief moments of fear, tormented by visions of great, circling eels, thick with angry blood, twisting about in a feverish search for the solace and protection of Halia's warm den.

I shook off these horrible omens, finding her writhing upon my body like a serpent. "Grant me your seed!" she begged. "Such pleasure..." she moaned, "I must have it!"

My heart raced, seeing her desperation, riding my cock with a wild, hungry thirst as her body convulsed in a frenzy of lust. I frantically urged my hips against hers, driving my cock with a fierce desire through the satiny depths of her beautiful young pussy. I became dizzy and mad with the need for release, not knowing how much more of this orgy of ecstasy my body could withstand.

Then, moments, later, absorbed in the sight of her frantic arousal, I felt a powerful thrill move through my body like thunder. A wave of crackling energy excited my body from head to toe, building quickly to a seismic spasm. I tried to pull out, eager to release myself upon her lovely breasts, but she pinned me down and began rocking her hips even faster.

"Halia!" I groaned.

"Give it to me! I must have you!" she exclaimed, narrowing her fierce, hungry eyes.

I felt an explosion of passion, as all thought momentarily ceased. All I could feel was the opening of a gateway, an unfettered release of pleasure, a series of seemingly unending spasms, as I submitted myself to her. I flooded her precious body with a warm torrent of cum, relentless in its need to find its cherished destination.

As I continued to come inside her, she again cried out, begging me repeatedly for my ever-flowing seed. I felt myself becoming fully drained- not just of the long months of sexual frustration that came with a voyage at sea, but of everything; all of my strength and all my willpower.

I offered everything up to Halia, as if it were an act of pure devotion. And when I had finished, I felt myself sinking into a strange trance. I felt as if I was floating upon a gentle wave, unable to move except by the whims of some other, unknown force.

Halia rose abruptly, sighing with deep satisfaction. My senses began to return to me. I regained my clarity of mind, but I still could not move. She looked down at me thoughtfully, then commanded me to rise. Somehow, I did so.

She commanded me to follow, and I did.

We proceeded out onto the deck of the ship where she led me into the sunlight, my swollen phallus still standing proudly upright like the mast of my beloved ship. I walked barefoot toward the bow, but the steps I took were somehow not my own. I moved like a marionette in a child's puppet show, having the mere illusion of life, but whose strings were controlled by another.

Halia led me off to starboard; her slender, supple body briskly approaching the edge of the ship. My terror grew as she commanded me to ascend the bulwark, where I soon cast my gaze downward into the sea below. I felt as if this were my final death sentence, as if I were being made, against my will, to walk the plank.

And then, just as I had feared, she commanded me to take one more step. Horrified, I did as I was told, and felt the crash of the surf against my naked body which was quickly tossed about like a rag doll and dragged under, pulled downward into the great abyss. I saw only a swirl of bubbles, which tickled my body as I spiraled downward.

Somehow I did not drown. And yet... I did not breathe, either.

Able to look upward, I saw the shadowy silhouette of my ship, drifting slowly across the shimmering barrier that now separated me from the familiar world above. I found myself thinking how strange it would be should the Valkyrie somehow still find her way home, silently drifting into port without her crew to the astonishment of crowds gathering on the wharf.

Then the shining mirage above me was shattered with a crash, as Halia's body tore through the brightly lit veil, rocketing downward in my direction, leaving a vortex of swirling bubbles behind her. She grasped for my hand and, securing it tightly, began to swim faster and faster, leading me ever further from my ship, deeper and deeper into oblivion.

She swam for what seemed like hours, at a blinding speed, until a whitish reef of coral began to fade into view from the murky depths. Still helpless and at her mercy, I was deposited on what appeared to be a small throne, crudely fashioned out of coral. Halia drifted down in front of me, adjusting my arms and legs into what must have appeared to her as a comfortable position, then leaned back thoughtfully. Her golden hair wavered slowly past her darkening eyes, carried this way and that by the briny depths, all the while studying me with a cold curiosity and fascination.

Then, as if satisfied with her work, she turned and zipped off cheerfully along the ocean bottom, leaving behind a blooming cloud of fine, white sand. When the vision in front of me cleared, I was horrified to find myself surrounded by my men. My entire crew was assembled before me like a collection of dolls. Each one was still nude, frozen in a state of physical arousal like I was, no doubt captured by the same means of trickery and seduction. Their dead eyes rolled slowly in my direction, acknowledging my presence, but unable to do anything about their fate. They remained there, drifting slowly from side to side like stalks of seaweed, lazily responding to the whims of the deep ocean currents.

Halia caught my attention again as she swam back along our long line of bodies, her soft fingers dancing happily over our stiffened cocks, gazing at them with eyes full of wonder, as if they were magnificent artifacts for her own cabinet of curiosities.

Further and further she swam, past my men, where I began to make out the hazy forms of others that I did not recognize. A distant line of men, having resided there from a time long before my own crew's fate was sealed. Their bodies were swollen and bluish, scarred by the constant nips of fish, and scabbed with crusty barnacles.

They gave me the same lolling gaze of misery, and I realized I could hear their voices in my head. Their stories, like soft whispers, drifted in the aimless waters which carried them briefly from ear to ear. Yes, I heard their stories, and the stories of my men. Stories of seduction, of horror, of loneliness.

My name is William F. Lowell, captain of the merchant vessel, Valkyrie, condemned to share these stories and send them echoing through the deep, as far and long as the sea is cold and wide.

Is there no one there?

Will no one respond?

Is there no man alive who can save us from this fate?

Receive these words, someone, anyone, like a message in a bottle, for I now find myself the decrepit counter of hours, days, weeks, months and, as of today, years... waiting.

Waiting for some means to escape this infernal, endless nightmare, so that soon I may open my arms and embrace the sweet salvation of death...