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Baberna and the Sea-Lion
Area: Alt.Tasteless Date: 23 Feb 94 19:04:16 From: bananafishbone (3:632/352.114) To: baberna@awk.cse.psu.edu Subj: a story just for baberna.
at last! my unrequited love is unrequited no longer! CLOSING TIME at the zoo. It had taken thousands of dollars in bribes and taxidermy, but she'd done it, at last; the last of the regular visitors had left, and the place was hers. She steered the utility truck over towards the aquatic centre, driving slowly with the trailer wobbling behind, burdened down with the suit... That damned suit. It had taken months of design, testing, redesign and more woman-hours' worth of sewing than she'd care to think about; but it was finished, and objective assessments were positive. She carefully jack-knife-backed the trailer in through the gate, and halfway down the ramp leading into the sea-lion's pool. Today (thanks to her bribes) the zoo had been closed at two o'clock in the afternoon, ostensibly for `maintenance work'. There was no-one to see her indulge in her secret fantasy, the dream she'd entertained ever since seeing that episode of Ren and Stimpy; `Rubber Nipple Salesmen'... Brakes on; the back end of the trailer dipped into the tepid water. She climbed over the back and forced the slit along the top of the suit open. It was heavy-duty dark-grey rubber, textured like sea-lion's skin; it concealed custom-designed air tanks with hoses leading to the mask built into the front. She straddled the suit and, after a cursory glance around the zoo, stripped off her shapeless grey mu-mu, revealing pale yellow-stained briefs and an unusually cantilevered brassiere (another custom construction, designed to hold her mammoth breasts in some semblance of order). She removed these last vestiges of human attire and the pale, wobbling expanse of her seemingly unlimited flesh was exposed to the world. Straggly tufts of yellow hair peeked from underneath her arms and (just barely) from under the huge flap of flab that overhung her pubis. She hefted the four-gallon can of crisco and began anointing herself liberally. It had an unusual reek; a marine biologist acquaintance had saturated the oil with a rare pheromone, one used by female sea-lions to attract mates. The suit wasn't completely water-tight, and hopefully, enough of the fluid would seep out into the water... Once the can was empty, she tossed it into the truck and stepped into the suit, sitting inside it like a canoe, then turning over on her bean-bag-like stomach with a flop, her legs slipping into recesses in the tail-section. She inserted her hands into the flippers and arched her back with difficulty; the seam along her back slowly sealed, like the top of a zip-loc bag. She writhed within the constricted grip of the suit; it hugged her body like a surgical glove, one size down, forcing her legs together. She pushed her face into the mask, gripping the air-hoses in her teeth; it was all working as it had in the test stages. With some further wriggles of her amply-padded hips, a seam along the front opened and folded back inside against her vagina. Some ancillary side-to-side motions assured that external access wasn't impeded, and she began awkwardly wobbling her way off the trailer into the water. Once in the water, motion was slightly easier, but vision was impaired; the water in the sea-lion's pool hadn't been cleaned in a while. Fragments of turds and small pieces of rotting fish obscured the view, which faded into a murky green after just a few feet. Still, she swam about happily, revelling in the feel of tight rubber about her body, rubbing against her thumb-sized nipples, the cold water sluicing against her vaginal folds. Whatever that pheromone was, it worked quickly. A small male sea-lion (relatively small, that is; he was about twice the size of her suit) swam towards her eagerly, only to be chased away by the bull of the herd, a monstrous apparition fully four yards from nose to tail-tip. He made a bee-line straight for her, and he wasn't in the mood to play games. It was only at this point that she realised how vaguely defined her fantasy was. How did sea-lions do it? the presence of the tail made the missionary position an impossibility... about the only thing she was sure of was that the female's vaginal opening was roughly in the same place as the gap in her suit, and that male sea-lions were hung just as impressively as horses. She caught a brief glimpse of the bull's endowment as it danced a perfunctory mating-ballet around her, turning over on its back to wave the forearm-thick phallus in the air (seeing it exposed in all its slimy black glory made her want to cross and spread her legs simultaneously), and then the bull was thumping into her side, pushing her over onto her back. Helpless, she rolled over and was pushed backwards into the slime at the bottom of the pool; she couldn't see downwards (actually upwards in her current orientation), so the bull's first thrust came as a complete surprise. The blunt head of its penis pushed aside the edges of the suit and punched into her, spreading her labia like the flapping doors of an operating theatre that had been invaded by a four-hundred pound casualty patient on a turbo-charged gurney. Sea-lions not being the most considerate lovers, it simply belly-flopped against her repeatedly, shoving the massive appendage a few inches further in each time until she thought it was going to punch a hole in her. Restricted by the suit, she couldn't spread her legs further apart, and the constant rushing blows from her fish-smelling paramour were beginning to crush the breath out of her. The bull's thrusts seemed to grow more and more frenzied; it had completely filled her and was still pushing its obscene length up into her when it gave a bellow and bowed its belly against hers, breaking several ribs; its penis thrust up through the top of her womb and flooded her lower abdomen with rank, hot fluid. Feeling the warmth of the bull's emissions mingling with the cool water as the beast lifted its bulk off her broken body, she suddenly remembered the nearby elephant's enclosure.... |
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