Maritime Logbook on the HMS Kraken

On request by Spazerz.

Well as a reward here's more story material.

A Nereid, kraken and mermaid fighting over who gets ya.

Fetishes: kissing, gentle sex, romance, cum on tits

Tags: monster girl, monster girl encyclopedia, second-person, nereid, kraken, mermaid

NOTE: The story doesn't have much explicit sex, since I believe mermaids, if not kraken and nereids, are very romantic at first encounters. Also, I don't want my material to be too repetitive or filled with sex all the time. I probably won't describe the PIV sex much in this one.

*****

You pulled on the oars, making the boat row through the waves faster. You looked around at the sea and sky around and over you, giving a sigh of exhilaration.

The sea was your world, and sailing was your passion. Some people teased you about it being a 'wet' fetish, but you didn't care.

Your father was a sailor, and the best one in the world you knew. You would follow in his footsteps and become the best known sailor after him. You knew what you wanted to be, and you wanted to be able to handle the sea and any danger it had.

The sea could take lives much more easily and remorselessly than sharks, hammerhead or great white, and even a stingray or jellyfish. And you didn't want to let it happen to you. Your father had been tossed around by the waves, thrown ashore on deserted islands, shipwrecked more often than you had fingers and toes to count, and he always returned home. Thinner, scarred, sometimes with open wounds - but always alive, and tougher.

And that's whom you wanted to be.

You manned the oars and rowed towards the landmass in the distance. You couldn't make out if it was an atoll or an island, but you intended to find out. It could be another ship in the distance, though it didn't look metallic. You raised a hand over your eyes, shading them from the sun and sticking out your bare, barrel-like chest. A real sailor never needed a shirt on a ship, it wouldn't be of much use with all the storms and rain. Your chest and torso, well-defined abs, and the toughened skin and muscles from hauling cargo, sails, masts and other parts of a ship was good enough to protect you. Even pants weren't really needed, but you supposed that natives or most normal people would be a little worried about a naked man, or even one in tighty whities running around them. People were so judgemental and easily terrified, at least the morons who lived on land. You weren't about to take their asses just because you were underdressed.

On second thought, if you landed safely on the shore, there were a few other worries. Like tribal savages who thought you were a god to worship and forcibly keep around, or even kill and eat since you didn't look like them.

But all that could wait. You needed to land safely on the beach first. You rowed as hard as you could to the object in the distance, hoping you could at least sleep there and find some sustenance.

Your stomach growled. Well, in fact, you could do with some right now.

You tacked the boat and shifted its course to the right of the landmass. You set up a fishing rod and hook, winding the reel and making sure the line is taut and firm and the hook is in place. You threw it into the water, letting it trail behind the boat. You then sat down to wait.

While you were waiting, you contemplated the perks and perils of being a sailor. The sea all around you, waves lapping over your boat, and

You felt a sudden tug on the line. Standing up, you pull the rod backwards. A herring flew over your shoulder into the boat. That's one.

Your line snagged another fish and it went into the boat. You continued in this way, tossing your catch into the boat in a quickly growing pile. You should have enough for a few days now. Even if you couldn't find anything on the island, the fish would last you for a while until you decided you'd rested there long enough.

Your line was suddenly tugged really hard, almost throwing you into the water. You almost fell overboard, regained your balance close to the edge of the boat, and then gripped the rod tightly. You just hit a jackpot. This could be a catfish or something else which was big enough to fry and eat for days.

You pulled and tugged on the line for a while, struggling to reel in the fish. You leaned backwards, adjusted your feet and legs better so as not to lose your balance, and then pulled the rod back harder with your left hand, the right on the reel's handle. You spun the handle inwards, trying to reel in the fish as best you could. Even if you fell overboard, you were an excellent swimmer and able to withstand all but the strongest waves, so it wouldn't be a problem. But there was no point taking chances when you could probably catch this one without getting soaked.

You stepped backwards, grabbing the rod with both hands and yanking it as hard as you could in quick jerks, hoping to make the fish lose control and fly out of the water. It didn't work. The fish was really big, or it could be called a shark. You might or might not lose something just for this damn Pisces, even your life if it happened to be a dangerous one. Or was it a moray eel? Perhaps electric? Shit.

After a few minutes of tugging and jerking the line, you decided you'd had enough. You gritted your teeth, slammed both boots into the wooden floor of the boat, and stretched the rod out towards the sea, preparing for your ultimate pull. You leaned backwards and took in a deep breath, tensing your muscles and preparing to pull this goddamned pelagic being out of its comfort zone. This one could flop and jump around the boat for hours for all you cared, and then die in the agonising dryness of gaseous oxygen instead of pulling it from the sea.

You turned your feet sideways and lowered your head. With a yell, you used your entire body and shoulders to give the line a really hard pull from your end towards the boat. The resulting 'Hyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!' echoed over the water. Guess any submarine within five hundred miles must have heard you. Well, it would be useful to have one looking out for you if you did fall in.

The line flies through the water, the bob you tied at the end floating closer. Yes! You watched it approach the boat, ecstatic. No effing fish would ever oppose your might!

The bob speeds towards the boat, hitting it with a soft thunk. The other end of the line finally flies out of the water, a fish tail appearing at the end. It flew to the boat, sending up a powerful spray of sea foam through the air. You dropped the line into the boat and stood facing the spray, your arms outstretched like in that Titanic scene. Sea foam and spray was the best to bathe in if you wanted some refreshment.

The fish you'd snagged went over your head, a bit like some fishy jokes your colleagues made about you and your passion for the sea, and hit the boat with a thud. This thud shook up everything in the boat, though. This was probably a damn hammerhead, not a fish! You felt the boat shake like it was in an earthquake. A couple of the ropes and sails left to dry on the sides fell into the water, and some coconut shells you used as cups flew into the air and hit the water with a splash! Some of the fish you'd caught went up into the air like flying fish, and went spinning over the sides of the boat, hitting the water. You'd almost lost your balance when the first impact of that monster hit the boat, but you managed to stagger and stumble over to your catch, swiping the air with your hands to get the fish still in the air and trying to regain what you were losing.

Pretty much a pointless attempt. The fish neatly avoided your hands as if they were under a spell and splashed into the sea. Some of them were still alive. They regained consciousness the moment they breached the water's surface and swam away, their silvery fins flashing in the sun as if to mock you for getting them at first. The others had already suffocated outside water, and gave blank stares as they slowly began sinking to the bottom of the sea. Great. You just gave some bigger fish and the sharks a free meal. Thank you very much, Big Brother Fish.

You moved over to the stockpile of fish and looked around, searching for the culprit who'd just lost half your catch and made you know what it's like to be dancing on a boat, though very unplanned. You frowned in puzzlement over not seeing anything apart from glistening fish tails and fins. Odd. You would've noticed if such a large fish had gone over the edge, and if it had, it would've capsized your little boat anyway. A fish the size of you could easily do that and you'd have nothing left.

You peer at the mass of thrashing gills and fins, struggling to notice the little miscreant. Maybe you'd be generous and fry it first so it wouldn't have to see the rest of its brothers and sisters be cooked, and then fearfully await its turn. That would show it.

'Um ... hello?' says a soft, timid feminine voice.

You blink. That sounded like it came from the stack itself. Odd. Fish couldn't talk. Right? They weren't porpoises. Or parrots. Parrot fish had beaks, but they couldn't talk, just let out bubbles.

So where was the reprobate?

'I-I-I'm right here,' says the voice. The hoard of fish shudders, and a silvery tail emerges from it. It shakes around for a while as if to remove any seaweed, which there were none of, and then starts sliding out of the pile.

Just as half of this strange fish exits the pile, you see a smooth, human midriff. Definitely feminine. The curves and arches of her hips are juicy. Her behind is well-formed, as if from Michaelangelo's hands. It moves out of the pile further, and you see two round protuberances over a delicate chest. Then her neck emerges, the head wiggling around a little and shaking some fish off it.

The mermaid hops over to you awkwardly, clearly not used to being on land, even if temporary. Sailors kept discussing seeing strange fish-women with large, round, bare breasts who kept enticing them to jump, but what was this? This one was a lot sexier than what the 'pictures' (obviously doctored with Photoshop, GIMP, or a lab) and tales depicted.

The mermaid raised her head to you, shaking the hair out of her face and gazing into your eyes. Your heart stopped. This one was a porcelain beauty, carved out of marble. Slender cheekbones, a pointed chin, pointed ears which weren't even scaly, and large, almond-shaped eyes. Her forehead was high, and covered in a fringe which she kept pushing out of her eyes. She was actually quite cute in the way she looked shyly at you while struggling to hop and skip over the boat's surface.

Her hair was a vision of beauty. Long, flowing and blue, and all without hair dye. Her breasts were large as well, more than any human you knew, even Ted's mum. Or his aunt, who was a cup bigger. Her's could be an F-cup. Her waist was toned and slim. It was so perfectly flat you could bounce a quarter off it, and her belly button was small and cute. Her hips were extremely curvy and wide, giving you enough room to grab hold onto as you imagined riding her, yet just the right size for a supermodel who wasn't a BBW.

The mermaid hopped in front of you, looking at your face, a faint blush present on hers. She was probably not the type to talk much, and that's what you preferred. Chattering chicks like your pesky roommate three years ago in a hostel were not welcome. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but closed it again. Surely mermaids didn't take to the first man they saw that easily.

'Well?' you said, folding your arms?

'Uh ...' said the mermaid softly.

'What did you decide to rock my boat for?' you asked her.

The mermaid threw her hair back again. 'I was swimming around to explore my home, the water, before your line tangled me and pulled me out of there,' she says, her eyes showing her sadness at your accusation.

'Oh. Right,' you said. 'I didn't think you'd get -'

The mermaid raised her fingers and brushes them gently over your lips. 'I'm sorry, I said that wrong. I actually grabbed your line and waited for you to yank me out. I keep hearing tales from my sisters about how men look and how kind so many of them are, but I've never seen one. I got a bit scared when you were pulling and tugging on your line, so I held onto it for dear life and hoped nothing unneeded would happen. They're all attached, and I felt more and more lonely day by day. So one of my sisters made this suggestion. She said it wouldn't matter and he shouldn't be too upset unless you capsized his boat.'

'You nearly did,' you reminded her.

'I'm honestly sorry,' she replies. 'I didn't expect such a vigorous attempt to make me leave the water. I just wanted to find out who a man is, and this seemed the easiest way. My sister told me most men fish using fishing rods or hooks, and few are women. So I took my chances grabbing your line.'

You unfolded your arms and looked down at her. She had cost you some food, a few sails and equipment, and even the clothes you'd hung out to dry. The sadistic part of you wondered if you should make her a willing personal assistant by saying you'd cook and eat her over a slow fire if she didn't agree, but you dismissed the idea for now. She appeared mostly sincere, and you wanted to find out a few more things.

'How'd you learn our lingo?' you asked. 'And where do you live under the sea? In a palace, like Ariel the Disney mermaid?'

The mermaid looked at you, puzzled. 'Who's Ariel?'

'Never mind,' you said quickly.

The mermaid looked at you with a sulky expression, but you ignored it like you did your sister's when she didn't get the shoes she wanted. She could always wait. When she sees you won't cave in to the power of the pout, she sighs and says, 'I interacted with humans throughout my childhood. I wasn't isolated from them at all, I just didn't surface that often. I would sometimes surprise human boys by popping out of the water in front of them, flipping in the air and diving back in. They were usually so confused and even scared that they saw a human half attached to a fish half. I would swim up to them, explain who I was, and then get to be friends with them. They generally accepted me, though their initial reaction was always so cute!' She claps

You nodded. That kind of made sense. It would explain how she could speak so flawlessly. Her voice was lilting and pleasurable, and she was a delight to listen to. It was slightly low-pitched, though you wondered if that was deliberate. It sounded a bit like she was attempting to charm you. Or it could be your overactive imagination.

'How do you speak under the water, then?' you asked.

The mermaid took a coconut shell of water on the deck, one among the spare you kept. She raised it to her lips, and dipped her mouth in it. Bubbles rose to the surface, and a sweet, musical note rose from each one as it pops.

'Our main method of communication is actually singing,' she explained. 'So even for short conversations, we compose a song and let it fly.'

You chuckled. Sounded like a strange way of communicating.

'Oh, come on,' the mermaid said as she saw you grinning. 'It's not like we do it for every little thing, even a one-line request, but it's as normal to us as a humans tendency to chatter.'

'Fair enough,' you responded, perhaps a bit disbelievingly.

'Oh, to be on this boat with you, and to seek adventure among this blue ...' the mermaid burst into song.

You gaped. Her hair was blowing in the sea breeze, her violet eyes were glowing, and her beautiful face was aglow in the sunlight. She was so charming and pretty. You wanted her. In the sexual and romantic sense. You needed to get closer. You felt her face grow larger ... or maybe she was coming closer. You reached out to her and gently grasped her shoulder. You pulled her close. Your body was on fire, and she was the water. She was an aquatic creature anyway, so you were sure she'd quench your thirst. Your thirst, parching your throat and alive in you like a little gerbil, compelled you to take her by the shoulders and bend her backwards. She was an incredible woman, one of the best you'd seen, and you needed to drink her up - that is to say, drink in her beauty. Platonically, of course.

You lifted her in your strong arms and bent her backwards. You leaned closer, your mouth open and ready for the touch of hers. She placed her hands on your cheeks and closed her eyes, her own face looming closer to your own ...

And just like that, everything stopped. The two of you were staring at each other a bit awkwardly, your brown eyes gazing into her violet ones. You realised the singing had stopped completely. It had been beautiful and yet hypnotic - you couldn't quite place what had happened.

'W-What happened?' you asked.

'Oh, um ... my singing has a sort of charm magic to it, dear,' said the mermaid, looking embarrassed at what she'd made you do. 'It's not as strong as a siren's, but it works. Us mermaid are super-romantics, and singing is how we charm men and get them to approach us. Similar to what you did.'

Your heart fluttered at the memory. Her shiny blue tresses waving in the breeze and those eyes gazing deep into your soul - you could not explain why they mesmerised you so much. You wouldn't have minded kissing her. You wanted to, badly. You wondered what you could to to complete that scene which would feel so right - a soft, tender kiss stolen on a cruise, among the waves when she could pretend to stumble at the rocking boat. You'd grab her to help her keep balance and both of you would end up the same way you just did - with a happier ending.

Just as you were lost in thoughts of how to smooch the delicate lips of the lovely fish-woman you 'caught', you felt the boat rock again as if it hit something. Things went flying once more, pretty much the same as the time when she landed on the boat. You managed to grab the stuff which flew towards you, which was most of it, so nothing went overboard.

When the boat stopped rocking, you turned around to see if the mermaid was okay. She was grasping the rock, staring into the water.

'Looks like we hit a rock,' she said.

'We'? Your heart warmed up at the thought that she was going to be here with you for a while. You looked her over, seeing her bare stomach, soft skin, those slender arms, the huge orbs she was now displaying to you as she stretched ...

Wait. Where'd her top go?!

You stared at her round, naked breasts. The top must have fallen off when the boat impacted the rock. She looked really ravishing though in her natural form, and extremely sultry. She brushed back her hair, looking at you staring at her in puzzlement. Then her eyes drifted downwards and she squealed, hiding her nipples with her palms.

'Oh my Demon Lord!' she squealed 'It must've fallen off when we hit that rock!'

The two of you ran to the stern of the boat, looking around to check if her seashell bra had fallen off nearby. There was no sign of it though. Not in the water, not in the boat, or anywhere else. It must have flown off her and drifted away. You checked all the sides of the boat, but there was no sign of it.

The mermaid sighed and hung her head. You placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she turned to look at you. Her violet eyes looked sad for a moment, but then she smiled. She leaned forward and gave you a gentle peck on the lips, stealing your heart all over again once more.

'It's all right,' she said. 'I'll get a new one easily enough when I get back to my home, we just string sea shells together.'

'You didn't tell me about where you lived,' you told her.

She described an underwater home. It's more like a cave which has been furnished and equipped to meet a fishlike crossbreed. You expected a castle and her father and mother ruling everything like king and queen, but not everything is Disneyland.