The prompt is: a lone survivor of their ship's crew trying to get back to a friendly port, while avoiding their
terrible pursuer.
-------------------
It was supposed to be a quick one-off job. Collect the nearly extinct animal for the nature
preserve, get the money and come home by Christmas.
Unfortunately for the crew, it came to this.
A girl spat out her eyeballs as cerebral blood sprayed from her empty sockets.
“Mom… lil’ sis, I’ll be home soon. I’ve brought expensive gifts!”
She reminded herself to glue them back on later. It was really annoying.
Strewn across her lap was the defiled corpse of her older cousin, his head since then impaled
by a phallic object. He had attempted to make first contact with the creature via a gentle and
pleasurable impression, but he had forgotten that a venerable dolphin’s skin was 15 times
thicker than a mere human’s. His skull could not stand the sheer force of its pelvic thrust; the
encounter had turned his brain matter into mush.
She wanted to kill that damned dolphin even if it was the last thing she would do, but her cousin
had told her to live for his sake. So she would make her way back home.
“Oh yeah, there were other people who died too.”
Indeed, three others also went with them on the trip. All of them also happened to not be in the
realm of the living, which was really unfortunate.
Two of their perishable vessels were already thrown into the water to distract the hideous
monster from pursuing her boat.
“That amazoness is much better equipped to deal with that sea monster….”
She deliberated on whether she wanted the well-toned woman to stay alive or not. On one
hand, her life may be saved; on the other hand, the thick-lipped slut threw herself all over her
cousin.
Literally, she had been the referee for 15 wrestling matches so far, they had run out of fish oil by
the 15th match.
The girl bashfully bit into the pulsating sandwich of flesh and bones. Baked, not fried from only
the finest of eldritch horrors.
“I’m just a musician, you should’ve been the one to survive…”
She gently shifted the fornicated head of her kin into her lap, freeing up a hand to caress its
meter-wide hole hole, her lips pursed as friction ceased the rolling of her eyes.
“Bleugh!”
She immediately craned her head towards the waters, careful not to tarnish her cousin’s head
with icky projectile vomit.
“Pteoui! What do you mean baked? This is fried! What a scam!”
The sandwitchical abomination’s tendrils sank downwards, ashamed at its masters for their
putrid lies. As an arm faced it towards the water and raised it upwards, it weakly raised a thin
tentacle in protest before surrendering itself to fate.
It failed its job; it was a good-for-nothing ration. A no good sandwich that was expired before
being made absolutely deserved to die.
A single oily tear dripped from the pores of its tender flesh as it was flung through the air,
piercing through the winds and spinning around in a final dance of glory.
The girl knew not of its enlightenment, but it did not matter. The sandwich had plopped into the
water, succumbing to whatever feces-infested grave the waters had prepared for it.
She wiped the dripping guts from her lips, rueing her empty food supply. She should have
obviously brought more tentacles for her consumption.
Lying against the tub that was supposed to house the monster that got the better of them, she
silently watched the motor of the banana boat scream against the water.
Truly, it was made of a fine specimen of giant banana from the phallic lands of the east. The
craftsmanship on the defecating ass motor was also second to none. It seemed that whoever
sent them on that mission wanted them to succeed.
That might have been the case If the supposed ‘veteran sailor’ of the crew wasn’t an absolute
idiot. Turns out, he had a keen interest in having an affair with a sea creature. He argued that
since they were holding it captive anyways they may as well give it a good time.
The others declined the sailor on that offer, but they gave him a wide berth to do whatever he
wanted; after all, while he was a strange man he was the expert among them. Perhaps he may
have had a lesson on marine biology or two.
Turns out, they should have been more careful with him. The sailor had a death wish that
damned them all with bad karma. Literally and spiritually, for they would have committed a
thousand misdeeds for simply having the knowledge imparted to them by the sailor.
“He died while he was in the monster… the vibrations cause his fleshly digit to turn to mush.
That guy had a devious smile on his face. It seems like he died without any regrets. Tsk.”
The sailor never intended to go home. That job was now left to her alone.
If there was one of the three tag-alongs that she held some amount of respect for, it would be
the old man. He was the one sent by the nature preserve to guide them on the mission.
Of course, the old man was a wierdo too, lest this was not a true adventure on the high seas.
She swore that there were only two normal people on the ship.
Well, really, now there was one.
She stared at the corpse of the old man, more decomposed than he already was. Maggots
spilled out from his nostrils, seconds later his dilapidated lips burst into millipedes that scurried
around the ship’s poop deck.He had actually keeled over and died from arthritis
Nevertheless, his spinal fluid was still fresh, no harm in keeping it around a little longer.
The crew had a couple drinks over their 2-day journey. Every time, he never failed to share his
expertise about a legendary beast that once populated the waters of the ocean.
The Rapist Dolphin.
The mere mention of the word sent shivers down her spine. Simply uttering the lexicon caused
tatters in reality to occur. Simply infuriating, since her eyeballs kept on falling out and the old
man’s saliva turned into spiders every time he spoke of it.
Still, she could not hate the old man for sharing his wisdom. He taught her valuable lessons
such as preserving the quality of dismembered body parts.
A thick mist rolled into the suspiciously still waters. Not that it obscured the field of vision any
more than the sheer darkness of the starless night did. They used to be there, but Uncle Anum
got hungry, so he devoured most of them before being forced into a diet by his wife.
The girl scurried to the back of the boat and slapped the cheeks of the ass motor to increase its
speed. It was a maneuver that would do nothing against the field of mist, but it prepared her for
what was to come.
She never got a clear view of the sea monster, since it always got them under water. Not this
time, she would stay out and hide on the ship like a little coward.
What could she do? She only had a survival knife, their Kolibri was lost in someone’s pocket
long ago. That stinger was the only chance they had.
The ominous sound of violin playing a rendition of 4/4 String Ostinato in D minor shook the still
waters around the boat. That meant things were about to get really dangerous, the violin being
the prelude to the heavy hand of the mistress called Fate.
The girl had no way to defend herself aside from propping herself up on the tub, the highest
point on the boat. Nervous, she tugged at the blood vessels that hung from her scalp to quell
her thoughts.
It had arrived.
The banana boat rocked, the ass motor trying its best to shart out all its available excrement to
outrun its pursuer, alas, the beast that hunted them was far too determined. Its feral prowess
was proven to be far more agile than a fat dump after a load of tacos.
The banana ship violently swayed back and forth, the peel of the banana boat unable to handle
the stress of the monster’s onslaught.
“Ah, rather than capsizing, this boat will split into two.”
She pulled the corpse of her distant cousin up to her bosom before hugging it tightly, spinal fluid
leaked from its back as the bones pierced through its blackened flesh.
“Hehe, you smell funny.”
The dramatic music suddenly stopped, and so did the violent rocking of the ship. The alternating
notes in D minor transitioned into Requiem Mass in D Minor, K. 626 III. Lacrimosa.
The girl’s eyeballs fell on a patch of water, from whereupon bubbles arose from the delicate
place of the deep sea.
Her eyeballs sank downwards, into the water. There they went, definitely never to be picked up
again. It was a good thing she had spares back in the port.
Her eyes expanded as they once more rose from the cursed depths. However, it was not a force
of nature that brought them up, nay, it was far more sinister.
A bottlenose arose from the water, scoffing at the inferiority of the lands above. The girl had yet
to beholden the monster’s form, but now she did and she had come to a realization at what it
truly was.
Surely, it was a dolphin, but certainly… it couldn’t be the legendary Rapist Dolphin?
Its glorious snout snapped open, displacing the waves. From it, a current sucked on the
eyeballs, lapping them up into the intestines of the creature underneath.
Within the snout, a single massive penis extended outwards. The penis shed its foreskin,
revealing a drooling mouth and a set of sharp teeth.
“Shucks, we were duped.”
It was, indeed, the legendary Rapist Dolphin.
♡♡♡
When the 5-men crew were all still alive, they were tasked with a 3 day journey into the sea.
Things tended to get mind-numbingly boring, so sometimes they all sat down with cups of
gasoline and merrily chatted over the boots they caught for food.
Oftentimes, the crew engaged in conversations about inconsequential things to stave off the
sanity and boredom.
The girl clearly remembered one of them.
“Wait so you whored yourself out for 50,000?”
“Both of us! It was a package deal, you know.”
“50,000 is 50,000.”
One moment, that was evidently the wrong flashback…
♡♡♡
The old man swung his jug of unleaded diesel as he finished chugging it down his windpipe. He
spit smoke out of his nose as he beckoned everyone to hear another tale of his.
“It’s about time I told you lads and lassies about the tale of the THOSE Dolphins.”
“Still bickering about that, senile old man? Those flippers are long gone.”
The amazoness interrupted the old man with the crunching of slippers.
“Shut up you musclehead. I can sing tales of it once I get back to the coastal tavern. I wouldn’t
let go of good notes.” The girl trailed off with a sour expression, the catch of the day was not of
the best quality, and she got the shortest stick to fish with.
“Who brought this girl in again? The hell can she do? Be a whiny little bitch?”
“I did. Now shut up. Don’t think I didn’t see you bopping to her sea shanty earlier today.”
That part of the flashback wasn’t really necessary, but the girl just thought that the last line by
her cousin was really cool.
The conversation continued for a while, something about the price of potatoes and a gas
shortage. The old man wiped some tar from his mouth, tipsy enough to continue with his topic.
“Before the reptilian conquest of the redpilled seas, they were once inhabited by the flourishing
population of the rapist dolphins. Now but a bygone echo of history, their mammalian musk used
to dye the seas white with their potent seed. Their greatness was not in their mighty fine
members, their moist and glorious skin or their pulsating, needy cunts, but with their indigenous
way of moving through the oceans.
The rapist dolphins traveled in shoals, much like schools of fish but a lot less dependent on
each other to live. They pleasured each other through an array of methods long since lost from
the records of man. Before climaxing, they would unsheathe their penile swords from each
other and blow their load into the open waters. The explosion of pleasure was so intense that it
propelled them forward at a speed the likes that no underwater inhabitant could ever hope to
match. Not only that, the semen also functioned as a powerful projectile that could cut through
the finest steal.
Such an advantage allowed them to subjugate and fornicate everything in the sea!
Eventually, their population dwindled to a single, mighty member. I know not of the objectives of
our organization, but I can only speculate that they sent us to capture the mythical dolphin
itself.”
At that moment, no one believed the senile old man. Not because what he said was so absurd,
but because his words gave everyone a raging hemorrhoid. Thus, they were naturally inclined to
invalidate all of his opinions.
The living proof to the validity of his speech, however, was right in front of the girl. It was a sight
to behold.
♡♡♡
The cockmouth spread wide open, a fluid, perhaps drool or precum, dripping down from its
meaty membrane.
A guttural, eerie voice whispered straight into the girl’s mind. It was quite empty in there, but
rapist dolphins were really good at subliminal messages.
“Sister, join ūs.
Wē are encapsulated in the mortal plane, left with measly morsels,
Only once joinēd with thine meathy hearth, shall ye transifigure mortal pus
Think of the baked bagelllls.”
That last offer was certainly very convincing; bagels were unfortunately gone from the lesser
realm after the donuts committed their great genocide.
There was one caveat, however.
“Nah, I’ll pass.”
She had a wheat allergy.
‘Jeeeeeffffff you said the bagels would work!.’
Tired of playing games, the Rapist Dolphin rose above the surface of the water and revealed its
glorious form. For it was not only a rapist dolphin, it was THE Rapist Dolphin, last of its kind. The
suzerain of the seas.
It stood tall and erect on the water, squeaking in pride and admiration for all its ancestors. Cocks
sprung from its rubbery skin, twitching with their virile smegma. Vaginas spontaneously puffed
out in the remaining spots, bathing the cocks with a magnificent waterfall of sex juice.
The vulvas of its eyes shook, girthy tongue-donger heaving up and down. It was eager to please
any hole or pole.
Except the Paddie Whakies, as far as the rapist dolphin was concerned, it would not fuck those
Gooks, not in any way.
The girl clenched her appendix, feeling as worthless and useless as the vestigial organ. Her
shoulders sagged and she let gravity guide her arms closer to the planet’s core.
That was until she remembered the old man’s advice; rapist dolphins were very attracted to
uncircumcised penises.
Panicked, she dumped the body of the old man into the water to buy her some time. The bitter
taste of a limp saggy cock would not be enough to keep the Rapist Dolphin at bay for more
than a few seconds. She had to act fast.
She turned to the decomposing corpse of her cousin; there was absolutely no way she would
dare throw it in the ocean. She did not have to, she only needed to deal with one part.
Steeling her survival knife, she tore off his pants and intently stared at the lower half of his body.
The penis, against all odds, remained erect and pointed towards the heavens above, mocking
the efforts of all that belittled it.
It was quite big, but that only made the job easier. Holding it in place by firmly grasping the
bottom of the pole, she gently sheared off the foreskin with the knife.
She looked at the bloodied piece of skin; there was no way she could throw it into the ocean.
Luckily, she had all the materials she needed to preserve it forever more. A jar fell into her
hands, she always prepared for something like this. With one swift motion, she scooped up the
water in the tub reserved for the Rapist Dolphin.
With a plop, the foreskin gently fell into the jar which was sealed by a wooden lid. Now, the girl
would always keep it with her as remembrance of her late relative. She lovingly licked the jar to
label it with their family’s DNA forevermore.
A gut-wrenching moan graced the depths below and skies above. It painted the heavens in
various tinctures of internal organs.
The Rapist Dolphin barreled out of the water and broke the sound barrier, leaving a trail of
ejaculation in its wake. Its mighty wangers proudly presenting the glorious remnants of a bygone
era. The sloppy cunts squealed and glee, once more in untold years able to practice the art
imparted by their foredaddys. The old man’s maggot-infested corpse had only served to satisfy
its terrible fetish.
A sonic boom of piss reminded the girl of her folly.
With her wit, she barely managed to maneuver the ship’s ass out of the ballistic trajectory of the
Rapist Dolphin.
“Uuu, why is it still following me.”
She lamented while holding the jar of amniotic fluid that housed her cousin’s mighty glans.
The jar of amniotic fluid… that housed the foreskin. Right, she still tightly clung to it with her four
arms.
She held her stomach in pain, coming to the realization of what she had to do. Her gastric acid
leaked from the punctures of the stomach lining as the Rapist Dolphin excitedly lapped it up with
its member.
She held the jar and raised it like it was her newborn baby. Only that she would do what only
insane cultists would do to a newborn baby. For the sake of her little life, sacrifices had to be
made.
“I’m sorry… and I love you.”
She opened the jar and plopped the piece of foreskin into her mouth, licking the rotten blood
from her fingers. She made sure not to waste a single drop of it.
Coiling her tongue around the fleshy bits, she savored the tangy and salty taste that came from
the preputial glands. She did not bite it, but swallow it whole in all of its divinity.
She gulped, and held her throat, the drapes of manhood now sliding down her esophagus. She
had now become one with the remaining vestige of her cousin.
Vanilla spilled from her mouth, because girls puked differently. It was not one out of disgust, but
one of raw unadulterated pleasure and power.
The foreskin was the key to unlocking the latent power blessed upon her by her ancestors.
Pieces had been split among two of the younger blood, now, they had found their way back to
each other.
The girl saw the wrinkled face of her great uncle, his wrinkled prune plastered on the velvet
sky(a face was too expensive). He had left but one powerful message for his descendant.
“Diane, you must spazz ‘em up, with jazz!”
The declaration was heard throughout the world. Everyone knew, the herald of catchy jazz
music hath come forth.
The girl was showered in holy light, and a saxophone fell upon her tendons. She picked it up
and took it orally, her moist tongue basking in all its glory.
This was not just any saxophone, this was the mighty Faggart Cucker. The Faggart Cucker,
forged in the tears of 14 year old goth girls’ nihilistic outlooks on life, doused in the boundless
pastures of donkey dung, embroidered with the anal blood of a thousand elder monks and
blessed with the holy water harvested from children at Chinese workshops.
It had once more descended on the mortal plane, and it roared at the Rapist Dolphin that dared
to poke at its mistress’ thighs. It had to wait until it had its way with her for that!
She extracted her lips from the naked crook of the saxophone to implant her message in the up
quarks of the area around her.
“This isn’t plagiarism, this is a homage! As proof - it's electro swing!!.” She gargled half the
moon to clear her throat and prepare herself to wield the powers of Faggart Cucker.
Betty Boom’s electro swing remix of Wellerman filled the fabric of spacetime. The entire
universe was bound by the sheer beauty of the whaling song boosted by the penultimate
achievement of mankind.
At that moment, the Rapist Dolphin received an amount of pleasure that far exceeded all it had
received in its immortal career. Not wrought from dick or cunt, but ear. Its sexual organs all cried
out at once in a sheer nut of ecstasy.
It burst open in its final and most intense climax, dying the blood red cum-stained sea in an
azure blue.
The girl patted down her dark brown cloak and black beret that were now only brought to her
attention because her song had bleached them blue and white respectively – the two superior
colors. The Rapist Dolphin was dead, so she would likely not have any money from the nature
preserve, but she ultimately got something far better.
She could now preserve the corpse of her cousin in the amniotic fluid. Blessed with the bile of
the Rapist Dolphin, it was the ultimate way to preserve his deceased body. It was a shame that
his groin no longer held a burrito
She hung from the banana boat and licked the surface of the water, being first to taste an ocean
without the dominating scent of the Rapist Dolphin.
“Mmm… it’s a little bit saltier now.