Fishing with live bait

“Hano, hano, we seem to be getting a bit of a crowd,” Hammond observed. “This pole isn't enough to share our prize properly.” With little concern for his prize, he lifted her cuffed hands onto a nearby hook. She gripped the chain between her wrists to prevent chafing as she was raised higher. To her horror, Nami saw she was attached to a cargo crane. Hammond and his cronies worked levers and winches in a control booth. Large breasts heaving, Nami shivered in the island breeze. Her bra and pants were still soaked from her recent swim.

Hammond grinned maliciously as he dangled her over the crowd. Nami kicked and raised her legs, trying to keep them away from the mob's grasping hands. “Hano, hano,” chuckled the brute, “whose gonna have fun first.” The fishman's toy was swung this way and that before being dropped into the six arms of an octopodded fishman.

Six hands ferviously roamed her body, squeezing her breasts through her bra and brushing her thighs. Two of his strong hands grip her slim waist, preventing her from squirming away. She felt his breathe on her neck; fingers worked under her bra and her tight jeans.

The leers of surrounding fishman offered no sympathy as they lustfully enjoyed her gyrations. Some of them even reached out to pinch her soft flesh.

Though furious with the frisky fishman, Nami gave up trying to escape from his grasp. Instead she focused her efforts on preventing his probing fingers from going further under her clothes, with little success. Grinding against her captor, she tried to twist away from the fingers that were exploring her soft globes and getting dangerously close to her nipples.

Without warning, she was yanked back up. The six-armed fishman didn't make a serious attempt to keep Nami but did tug on her skinny jeans as she was pulled away. It wasn't enough to remove her pants; they were too tight. However, Nami's jeans descended almost an inch in his grip.

Once again, Nami flailed above the sea of nefarious fishman. This time though, she was fully aware of what would happen when they lowered her again.

And lowered she was. A female fishman was the one to grab her first. This purple skinned woman was beautiful if a bit angular. A tight scarlet dress covered her sleek body and a black handkerchief hid her mouth. Fishmen around cheered at the prospect of lesbian make-out session. It was for good reason; the woman's webbed hands stroked Nami's body.

“Hmmm,” purred the sultry woman to chuckles from the mob, “it seems I get to play with it for a few moments.” She hugged the handcuffed human closer. Nami, to take some of her weight off her strained shoulders and wrists, wrapped her legs around her new captor. The female fishman chose to interpret this as lustful desires and moaned “soo eeeager.” The hoard of voyeurs voiced thier agreement with whistles and their own lewd comments.

Prickly nails tickled up Nami's back as her **** partner's hand danced up the cat burglar's body. The female fishman's hand travelled to her handkerchief, pulling it down to reveal a grinning mouth, devilishly wide, lined with beckoning tentacles and filled with an inhumanly long tongue. Nami recoiled in surprise but was unable to prevent the strange mouth from engulfing her own.

Nami was locked in a kiss for several moments much to the enjoyment of the randy fishman encircling them. Webbed hands groped their bodies, grabbing Nami's ass or pulling her hair. One hand even caressed her pussy her through the skinny jeans. But Nami cared little about these violations. The tentacled mouth was smothering her. The sea succubus sucked and kissed her squirming victim's lips passionately. Nami struggled to breathe as the abyss of tiny probes **** their way into her mouth and the long tongue wrapped around her own.

When the kiss was broken, Nami was left gasping. She offered little resistance as her captor kissed down her neck to her shoulder, stopping briefly to leave the mother of all hickeys just below her chin. Then the devilish woman slowly reached a webbed hand down Nami's bra, cupping the prisoner's soft breast. The nervous navigator breaths became deep and labored. The malevolent hand kept moving, raising the tender tit and pushing the bra down until Nami's erect nipple was exposed, available for the demonic smile.

Nami winced and yelped as the tentacles tormented her sensitive nub and breast. She bucked and writhed against the female feasting on her melon, feeling each of the hundred slippery tendrils massaging and milking her soft skin. It was a show the pawing fishman seemed to like very much. They pressed into the pair, doubling their efforts to fondle and pinch. In the press of fishy flesh, a stranger's hand unbuttoned the front of Nami's jeans.

Nami whimpered when she finally felt herself being pulled up again. Her breast was pulled free of the tentacular mouth with a pop. She looked down at the sea of faces. They were full of glee form her misery. Nami danced above them, shaking her tits in a futile attempt to return her exposed globe of flesh to its cup.

There were excited noises behind her. She looked over her shoulder just in time to see the oar. It hit her butt with a loud smack that sent Nami sailing forward.

“Hazzah!” the fishmen congratulated their resourceful comrade. Nami glared back at the cheering mongrels. This was infuriating, hanging like this, clothes half falling off and her ass literally paddled. How could things get worse?