Prince Gyllen Ch. 11

"Does not sound very effective to me...but I see no better option." The prince complied.

"Good luck! Yer gonna need it!" Min said over her shoulder, already making tracks down the shoreline in a self-assured stride, once again reminding Gyllen of how much her bathing suit publicly exhibited her lime rear, already turning a few heads. Likewise, the prince trooped in the opposite direction, oblivious to the pocketful of attraction his own figure was also gaining.

Even after walking a solid five minutes along the shoreline, Gyllen was still unable to locate a vacant spot large enough to hold both him and Min. Instead, he was only met by repetitive rows upon rows of fellow beach goers lazing about in the afternoon sun. Bourgeoisie Bay was rapidly turning out to be anything but the tranquil getaway the prince was expecting.

"Gods, how long does this beach go on for?" The prince breathed out, shielding his eyes from the solar glare to marginally improve his vision but still unable to perceive where exactly the boundaries of the sands ended as he looked down the stretch of coast. Before perceptual isolation could kick in, Gyllen finally noticed a change in scenery once another couple minutes passed: about five-sixths of the beach from the top downwards was gradually appearing more cragged further down the path, corresponding with a huge drop in the number of sunbathers as the change in terrain became more prevalent. The landscape soon melded completely into stone save for a small strip of sand remaining at the very foot of the shore. With no room left to lie in a vertical position lest your upper back rested in excruciating pangs against the rock, the lines of sunbaskers thinned out entirely to avoid the harsher land like the plague. Even the waters around this area were devoid of swimmers. Gyllen could not understand why for the life of him. Sure, you could only sit straight and lie longways and look a little strange but that was a far cry from being totally inhospitable in the blond's books.

"Am I the only one with common sense for once or is there something I'm missing?" The prince mused. Whatever the case may have been, it was certainly better than nothing for both him and his goblin companion, though the granular footway still continued even further on, around a curve and behind a large rise in the rocks. Gyllen wondered if it may lead to smoother, untapped room just beyond this bend and walked a little bit further to investigate, leaving the whooping crowds far in the distance.

Lo and behold, just around the corner was an alcove in the shape of a near-perfect semi-circle recessing into the stone with a soft, sandy floor and enough room to hold a small amount of people in without issue. The perfect spot to elude all that noise, and it was receiving a decent amount of sun to boot!

"Looks like luck is on my side today for once!" Gyllen gleefully thought before taking a few more steps forward to inspect the niche. It was then that the prince stood on...something. His bare underfoot pressed against a soft surface, cold and slimy, raised a little off the ground which he did not see on his initial sweep of the surroundings and coincided with a high-pitched exclamation of pain.

"Ah! Sorry!" Gyllen said as natural reaction from his learned etiquette, lifting his foot away from whatever he had stomped on, yet there was nobody visible to have made that sound. Even looking down, there was nothing out of the ordinary he would have trodden on. "Um...who said that...?" He asked to the seemingly thin air.

"Moi..." The disembodied voice replied. The yellows of the sand and the browns of the stone dissolved away and revealed the form of a most other-wordly female. The most striking thing about her right off the bat was her lower half, like the mermaids from earlier, did not possess of a pair of typical humanoid legs but - unlike the mermaid -- it was not a tail which complete her bottom portion. Instead, eight appendages sprawled out along the ground and all originated from a single base just below the woman's waist, the flesh of their top halves being a mostly a jet-black colour, shining with a coat of mucus, while the undersides were a purple shade and dotted with a myriad of small rings. By comparison, her torso was far more unexciting: a slim trunk with two long arms extending from the shoulders. She was wearing a dark garment that appeared to have been woven with rubbery fibres that completely covered the area from her neck to the length of her arms - save for her light-skinned hands -- to about a third of the way down the length of each and every one of the eight bottommost projections, 'sauveteur' stamped across the chest of the clothing. Her face was rounded and pretty with a narrow nose though with a melancholic frown and tired eyes that blazed a vivid amber around elongated pupils. Atop her crown, in place of hair, were eight more tendrils sprouting forth from her scalp, the pigmentation matching that found on her 'legs', one tentacle in particular drooping directly between her optics and over her nasal bridge. In short, Gyllen has encountered a female scylla, an aquatic race of half-humanoid, half-cephalopodic creatures.

"Oh, my deepest apologies, miss!" Gyllen bowed, begging forgiveness in Gaulish.

"You better apologize! I come all ze way out 'ere to get away from you gawkerz! But does zat stop you!? Non!" The octopus girl huffed, throwing her face to the said as her hair-tentacles swayed according to her movement, grabbing onto her elbows, sounding as though she was on the verge of tears. "Go ahead! Laugh! Zat iz what you came to do, oui?"

"W-w-what!?" Gyllen said, confused above all else. "Why would I...?"

"Because I'm ugly!" She answered with a snap, even before the prince completed his question. "I'm ze only scylla working on zis bloody beach. Un huit-legged monstre to you 'umans! You sickos are all ze same! Taking perverse pleasure staring at a freak like moi to feel better about yourselves. 'ow can I even compete with ze mermaids?"

"It seems prejudice against certain non-humans is widespread in other countries too... even friction between differing non-human species is seemingly an issue as well." Gyllen thought to himself, reminded of the racial concerns back home though the blond was quickly brought back to the moment at hand when he noticed tears beginning to form in the corners of the cephalopod girl's amber oculars. "W-well, if you don't mind me saying...I find you to be quite attractive actually!" The prince blurted in an effort to hold back the waterworks.

"You really think zo...?" The scylla sniffled, looking to him.

"Y-yes...!" The prince nodded with a smile, unaware of what he was about to get himself into with this mere, but honest, sign of compassion. "You are the first scylla I've ever came face-to-face with and I have to say, you are very beautiful!"

"Oh, merci beaucoup..." She perked up a little. "You are not zo bad looking yourzelf, ma amie."

"Ah! You'll make me blush!" Gyllen tittered. "We haven't even been properly introduced yet."

"Je m'appelle Pascaline Pieuvre." The tentacled female replied. "Et you?"

"My name is Gyllen." The prince responded.

"Gyllen? Bizarre nom." Pascaline said. It took the prince a moment to notice what was unusual about her statement, aside from the slight offence, but it soon occurred to him that the Gaulish scylla had implied she never heard the name before, nor did she seem to recognise his face for that matter, as though he was completely unknown outside of his tiny, northern home country. She was not giving him special treatment nor pestering him with intrusive questions about his dull prior life. The only other occasion he had experienced something like it, at least when he was using his true identity, was with his accidental first meeting with Min. If Pascaline did not know who he was, then did that mean the rest of the world excepting his little island did not either? If so, he would no longer have to mask behind a pseudonym or cosmetics, he could be free as himself to do as he pleased outside of Snjórland! ...though perhaps he will still wear the skirts and make-up, just from time to time anyway. The single, fleeting feeling of unbridled, silent elation from his earthly woes Gyllen felt in this realisation made him know, even this early into his trip, the entire venture to foreign lands would be completely worth it. "By ze way...'ow were you allowed on ze beach wizout a top?" And just like that, the blond's ego was brought back down a peg or three just as quickly as it skyrocketed.

"Oh, for the love of...I'm a man!" The prince said, his tone a mixture between a huff and shame. "I'm seriously considering growing out a beard if it saves me having to correct everyone!"

"Que!?" Pascaline shouted, shooting up onto the ends of her tentacles in shock, standing a fair bit taller than the prince, before two of her front tendrils slithered across the ground and entangled around the blond's light-skinned legs in a cold, moist embrace, dragging him closer to the scylla, scuffing his soles across the grains underfoot. He nearly toppled onto the octopus when his journey was complete, halted only by an extra pair of legs holding his mid-section up. Those same tendrils on his stomach, exuding their slimy coating against his flesh, wriggled their way into his aqua trunks to coil around his member and testes before even a semblance of permission had been given to her.

"For Odin's sake! Will I ever come across somebody who doesn't molest me five minutes within meeting!?" Gyllen whimpered as he took two steps backwards whilst brutishly yanking the scylla's appendages from out of his swimming gear. "Gods! Is everybody in Gaul this...forward?"

"We're alone, out of sight et you just said you found moi attractive." Pascaline answered his rhetorical question. "I do not see ze problem 'ere."

"You...you don't get out much, do you?" Gyllen said, puzzled by the scylla's questionable rationale.

"Seemz perfectly logical to moi..."

"I feel a headache coming on..." Gyllen sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his fingers on his temples.

"Zooo...are we going to do it now or...?"

"E-excuse me!? Do you think just because I throw a couple compliments your way, you return a few back, I get my privates fondled, I find you extremely attractive and I'm intrigued about the potential possibilities of the use of your suction-cup lined limbs on my body having just sampled how they felt on me, that means I'm immediately going to jump on the opportunity to make love to you!?" Gyllen ranted, folding his arms as he glowered to Pascaline, who vacantly stared back with her slit-pupiled, amber eyes until his upcoming admission. "...Alright, fine! Where shall we go?"

"Go? What is wrong with where we are?"

"What, here? Now!?" Gyllen said, agitated. "Anybody could come round and catch us! Not to mention...it's sandy."

"Relaxez-vous, nobody ever comes around zis far. We will be reasonably safe."

"Reasonably..." Gyllen echoed under his breath. "Shouldn't you be working, by the way?"

"I'm starting mon break as of now."

"You weren't on a break before?"

"Oh, non. I always sit 'ere away from ze crowds until I am really needed...or mon shift iz over." She explained.

"Remind me to ask afterwards how you're able to keep a lifeguard job with that mentality..." The blond said, outright baffled. "Well, let's get this over with. Shall we undress ourselves or each other?" Silently, the scylla's tentacles snaked their way back over to the effeminate male's wide hips, hooking themselves into the waistline and around each leg hole of his swimwear. "Each other it is then." Gyllen said, trying not to draw attention to his arousal caused by the chilled tendril textures clashing against his warm, white skin. At the same time, the prince reached over towards Pascaline with quavering arms to the rubbery cloth draped over her torso, only just realising after a couple of ineffectual tugs that he had absolutely no idea how to go about remove it. "...some assistance, please?" The prince said, followed by an uneasy chuckle.

Without batting an eyelid, Pascaline tugged against a small metal ring attached to the neck of her garb using one of her non-molluskan arms, lazily pulling it down a brass track all the way to her navel as it made her clothing part in its path, leaving teeth-like copper ridges on the edges and making an uncanny sound, somewhat of a cross between a growl and a hiss. Gyllen was so engrossed by this unfamiliar technological wonder that allowed the scylla's clothing to be opened with ease, he almost distracting himself utterly from the slither of her light-skinned body now visible from within the slit.

"I've become far too desensitised to this..." The princeling thought to himself as he squirmed his digits inside and beneath the close-fitting covering, discovering how much more temperate the skin on her humanoid-half was compared to that on her octopean-half, before widening the gap and releasing her modest boobs that shook momentarily from the effort. After having previously experienced Min and Pasiphaë's more bountiful bosoms in the past, Gyllen was slightly underwhelmed with the anti-climatic revelation, though far from unenthused as evident when Pascaline finally dropped the teen's trunks around the same time. The prince's penis was let loose after being packed away by his swimming gear, springing up from between his legs as soon as the bands were slid to his knees, unveiling the erection that had been present ever since the scylla's initial unauthorised squeeze.

"Iz zat it?" The lifeguard commented, in regards to the size of the blond's member.

"W-what!?" Gyllen flustered. "Is that the first thing you say to everybody who offers to lay with you? I wasn't going to bring it up, but you're not exactly bursting at the seams with endowment either!"

"Oui but zat is not mon problem." Pascaline responded with a deadpan expression.

"...I'm beginning to think no amount of Gaulish tutoring is going to help me understand you any clearer." The prince said, a tinge of vexation permeating his voice.

"I suppose your...diot will 'ave to do..."

Growing impatient, Pascaline raised half of her tentacles underneath towards the blond, wrapping and tightening them around his torso with surprising haste. Gyllen's body temperature whiplashed from fairly thermal to a moderate chill within the suffocating clutch of the cold-blooded tendrils. The prince was hauled, quite literally, off his feet towards the lifeguard by her black appendages, tumbling face first into the scylla's chest. Pascaline held Gyllen tightly to her body, his cheek squashed up and rubbing against the space between her bubbles, effectively immobilising the blond for the time being had he bothered to attempt an escape. The prince could then feel a stray cephalopodic arm slapping itself against his inner thigh, shivering as he felt it steadily slither closer towards his groin. The next thing Gyllen felt was the constricting sensation around the girth of his royal member, able to discern each individual suction ring clinging to his cock while it was wanked, becoming the most atypical handjob the young blond had received up until that point, though his excited facial expressions, frequent moanings and squirms within the scylla's tentacled grapple suggested it was also tanked high amongst the best. The prehensile nature of the appendage perfectly twisting around his length mixed with their texture and suckling capabilities was something wholly unique to the cephalopodic scylla people that could not be naturally replicated by any other known race. At least, that's what Gyllen was thinking while he mentally cursed the fact none such octopus-folk lived in Snjórland's watersides.

"'ey! Zo am I just doing all ze work 'ere or what?" Pascaline spoke down to Gyllen, breaking him out from his awe but without letting up beating the boy off by even a fraction.

"A-ah! So sorry! It's just that your technique is so new for me..." The prince looked up from betwixt the scylla's breast, his face turning red, and not just from the sun, while fruitlessly attempting to bottle up his enticing groans as he looked her in the amber eyes.

"None of ze excuses. Get to work."

"Well, your appendages are hindering me from doing so by quite a lot..." Gyllen replied. Pascaline's hold became more lax shortly after hearing his words, just enough for him to slip both of his thin arms free and stand himself back up and away from her figure. "Ah, thank you~!" Gyllen beamed to the scylla before being reminded on the situation by a sharp jerk on his penis, his foreskin completely pulled back from the tip, straining his frenulum. His smile was replaced with wince of pain and hoot before being nudged back down to her bust, this time able to stop himself from tipping over completely by putting out his hands and latching onto her tits just in time before such a thing could happen. Pascaline could not help but cringe as her tender mammaries were groped so harshly, letting out a small whine from behind her closed lips. Once adjusted, Gyllen realised where his mitts had ended up after that minor blunder, though instead of wasting time apologising to the scylla, he instead opted to begin making his moves while the mood was still right. The prince kept his paws on the lifeguard's puppies, squeezing on them slowly but firmly between alternating fingers and palms. His arms continuously moved around in all directions, parting Pascaline's orbs just as much as cramming them together, throwing in a couple light presses into her chest to be on the safe side. The scylla's groanings quickly matched the blond's own vocalisations, and the more and more he played with her bust, the tighter and tighter he could feel her tendril choke around his length.

"M-mon dieu...zese techniques...I did not expect zuch skilled 'ands for one zo young..." Pascaline murmured. The prince avoided tediously explaining how Min demanded he maintained constant practice of his breast massaging techniques - primarily on the goblin herself -- by removing one of his mitts away from the syclla's boob and replacing the vacant space with his mouth, latching his lips onto the Gaulish girl's erect left nub, suckling on it lightly as the tip of his tongue tickled the perky teat while his right mitt ceaselessly caressed her remaining breast. It was then that Pascaline, in an effort not to fall behind dealing out pleasure, brought out yet another tentacle from her reserves, curling this one directly over the tip of the blond's member, rubbing it back and forth around his pink glans at the same time she twisted her other tendril around his shaft, sliding it repeatedly along the rod with unforeseen enthusiasm, each of the countless suction discs feeling like a tiny mouth nursing on his tender flesh.

Gyllen's flushed face and sexualised expressions could be respectively seen and heard more clearly by the octopian as he pulled his face away from his chest, looking up at her with an exasperated but stimulated look: drooped eyelids and tongue dangling free from out his mouth. He held his head this way just long enough to witness the scylla exhibiting similar emotions before diving back into her chest, planning to give her other nipple the same affection and treatment as its twin while still attending to the first with his paw. The prince's prick was beginning to twitch not long after beginning this second suckling session, and he knew he would have been satisfied with the encounter if he was allowed to orgasm just from his privates being handled by Pascaline's additional appendages, already picturing his seed discharging in her grasp and dripping from the tentacles' tips onto the sand. However, the scylla had another thing in mind once the keen sense of touch on her tendrils picked up on the subtle pulses originating from the prince's nethers.