tofi's trail

Human-wear... He didn't like human-wear at all.

Synanise, tired, most of all mentally, didn't want to stick around after his mother and her friends were done with him. They'd get their energy back, and would come to have another go, and it would tear him apart. He knew how things went, with those people.

She surfaced, climbing up on a rock to rest his stomach on its craggly surface. A seagull observed him with one beady eye, but he ignored it. It hopped closer to him, as he started to nod off. Through the haze of sleep, he saw its white body fill his vision and when it pecked at his shiny red dress, he waved an arm to get it to back off. Offended, it took to the air. The fabric was tight around his shoulders.

When he awoke, it was to hands on him, and first he thought it was the female dolphins again. But the hands were too small for that. Synanise moved to sit up, but his head was harshly pushed down. He felt the taste of kelp in his mouth, and stone against his teeth. The creatures scrambling on top of him gagged him quick and effective, before he was plunged face-first into the water.

They didn't push his whole body down into the water. Only his head, his shoulders. He felt how the water surface lapped at the blowhole between his shoulderblades. When he struggled, he felt ropes of underwater vegetation tighten around him, pressing his arms against his sides and his tail against the rock.

The small hands had wide fingers that kneaded into his hide. Synanise cursed the dress, his mother, her friends, and his own weakness. The creatures on top of him pressed their palms against his skin, and he felt fat, blunt claws scratching him.

The hands were everywhere, in a whole new kind of invasive way. They ran across his tail, up his fins, and circled his blowhole. No matter how he struggled, the creatures wouldn't let up. But he could feel the bindings slip, and he slid forward a little bit. He closed off his blowhole before it was submerged, and he kept wiggling, trying to loosen the binds around him further.

The creatures noticed. They scurried back, and Synanise groaned inwardly in frustration as they tightened the make-shift ropes, and again when they added more.

Time passed, as he kept struggling. He felt them move on top of him, felt the wetness of their arousal on his hide. And the tightness in his lungs, as time started to run out. He started to violently thrash, trying to force the ropes to break rather than loosen. The claws pricked his skin, but the oxygen deprivation he was starting to feel was more painful than the gashes the creatures tore into his skin. Synanise felt his lungs expand, and just before they forced the used air out, he slammed his forehead against the rock he was trussed to.

If he had to drown, he'd rather be unconscious while doing so. No such luck; he saw, in fis darkening field of vision, one of the creatures curiously pick his head into its hands. He didn't have the power to pull away, and his tormentor's tongue lapped up blood from his skin with a raspy tongue. Synanise shuddered, when water flooded his lungs.

Like The Salmon Playing With The Stars 9