The King

Although he was called king, perhaps it was more appropriate to call him a chieftain. But given the isolated nature of this island, the nearest archipelago was at least half a day of difficult and thus life-threatening sea voyage away, this island did indeed qualify as an independent nation.

This king was the sole remaining Royal family of the island, the reason still unknown.

To Dark Waters, this King was a wise man. He had a calm and competent bearing. His dark eyes had a depth to them, his voice was deep and soothing. The leatherback's eyes would often linger on the pale scarring that crisscrossed his dark muscled body, generously exposed by the tribal native clothing which constituted of a roughly woven skirt, though it was perhaps of nicer quality and more decorated than that of other islanders. The young merman often wonders about what had the scarring them which drew his thought away from his own. Letting him feel less self-conscious.

One day a storm had raged most of the day. When the wind had picked up the wise man of the island had come out to watch the sky and pulled a rattling bell. The fishers had hurried to the sea to secure their equipment and call in anyone who was in the water using conch horns as well as signal to other villages on the island of the impending storm.

It had begun to drizzle, then rain. There'd been plenty of running and shouting then finally the din had died down. But the winds had picked up and the rain had raged with even more venom.

The merman's pond had flooded somewhat and he'd used the increased freedom in the pond to circle it restlessly, not minding the rain. Although it had chilled somewhat, the weather was still warm. But when night fell the temperatures sank further.

As the storm ranged on for some more days, the human presence decreased ever further around the merman's pond. The young maiden came sometimes to check on your wounds but at this point, it was hardly needed, though you still had some stiff scar tissue that tugged and occasionally itched you were almost fully healed physically.

The other islanders along with the wise man come initially for blessings but dark waters had, to his knowledge no mastery in magic, let alone the kind that could change the weather. The king had come to him privately several times and beseeched him for blessings as well, which had made the turtle merman uneasy and anxious.

Now, no one came with offerings, the storm continued to rage.

Slowly Dark Water's submerged himself entirely below the waters. What bothered the turtle merman more was the cold. Although Leatherback's were a warm blooded species, that was relative to other reptiles, they still needed to stay warm by dispensing energy through their musculature and exchanging the cooled blood from the extremities of their long flippers with the warmer blood from their heart.

With reduced offerings, he had to start thinking about conserving energy, and for the moment, the water was still warmer than the cold air and the harsh winds.

For another day, dark waters were submerged front flippers tucked close. When he'd been a young boy he'd folded his long front flippers over his shell when he'd needed to rest, but now he had to tuck them under his plastron.

Leatherback's were usually highly intendant and solitary species, constantly on the move, with itchy traveling flippers. Seeking out new waters and mapping out the jellyfish migration routes in their deep dives of the pelagic ocean. But he was cooped up with limited space and no hunting possibilities. His pond was artificial and had nothing living in it aside from insects, and he had little time to taste the freedom of the solitary journey to begin with, so he'd unknowingly become dependent on these humans.

While lying on the bottom of the pond, to comfort himself and pass the time he'd stroke his penis with his front flippers.

Fortunately, it had healed without a hitch and he distracted himself in this private exploration. Gently stroking the underside of his cock and teasing the tapered in the V of his flippers. Perhaps it was as a result of the rough treatment he'd had in the mouths of the sharks, but he found he preferred the gentle, slow teasing. His thoughts wandered and he thought of the King's calm presence and dark eyes and imagined how it was his scarred calloused fingers that gently tickled his cock. It was to this quiet fantasy that he climaxed and pumped his first seed into that pond.

As days passed he masturbated several times, not to climax, but just to feel the warm comfort of pleasure and the imaginary companionship in his fantasies. As an added benefit, his cock, engorged with blood, warmed the extremities of his flippers. But there were only so many hours a day he could spend jerking himself off, especially as he was still recovering. The rest of the time was spent in an increasingly sour mood and darkening depression.

After almost a full week and a half, he saw the little girl come to his pond, a bruise on her cheek. But Dark Waters was too grumpy to care, sourly staying completely submerged and still.

She ran off after shouting his name and circling a few times around the pond.

The howling of the storm returned and drowned out all else. Only the sounds of humans return in greater number and with darker male voices. They shout for the merman, circling the pond and checking for any tracks that his heavy body may have left behind should he have left. Speculating the likelihood his tracks may have been washed away. With the dark irregular coloring of Dark Waters's shell and back combined with the muddy pond water which had been stirred up from the rain, he was quite well hidden, and the humans could not spot him in the gloom of the storm.

Among them is the King, whom Dark Waters hadn't seen for some days started. The waters were muddy and the visibility was low, but his eyesight was keen enough, and the young turtle merman watched, pettily vindictive as the humans searched for him in vain.

The King stopped the men before turning to the pond and jumping in. IT came up to his waist in one go. This was the shallower part. Dark waters turtle-body was large and he needed a lot of space to maneuver. The villagers had worked hard to expand and deepen the deeper part of the pond in which Dark Waters was hiding now.

"Dark Waters!" He shouted in the storm, "Dark waters! Are you there?" He had waded into the deeper waters which went up to his chest. There was not much space in the deeper parts of the pond, but in this scenario, Dark Waters was more graceful and stealthy than the human. With slight movements of his flippers, he avoided the King's clumsy fumblings.

The king seemed slightly frantic as he kept searching for Dark Waters in vain. The turtle merman watched him carefully, judging his mood and somewhat curious about this new side of this familiar human.

The men watching him called to him, saying their lost sea deity was not in the water. The King's shoulders slumped slightly and he turned to wade back to the pond bank.

Dark Waters suddenly felt his accumulated dissatisfaction and insecurities felt during his stay spike into anger. His emotions welled and overflowed, with murky emotions into the surroundings. Imposing an **** telepathic pressure on the mortals around you, causing the sky to darken further.

Slowly he rose to the water's surface, his shell broke the water first as he lifted his human torso in an arch.

The People of the island all took a step back as they saw the emerging figure and intuitively felt the creature's anger. Whatever words they'd thought of saying dying in throats.

The King stopped his advance seeing the people's reactions around him and slowly turned around, arching his neck up as Darkwaters loomed over him.

Lightning arcked over the sky in the distance, illuminating the sky and the merman's slick white torso. and deepened the shadows of his hardened expression.

The human's eyes were wide with surprise and something else as thunder rolled across the land.

A dark thrill went through Dark Waters. For the first time, he caught a gimps of that primal emotion directed toward him. For the first time, he knew what it was like to be feared.

He knew that fear, of knowing he was helpless and at the mercy of another's will. He'd felt it when surrounded by sharks, having to trust in their goodwill because, regardless, he'd lacked the ability to resist or escape.

Now he was the shark. Compared to this human he was more nimble in the water and he could easily overpower and drown this man with his bulk, his shell and leathery hide too thick for the man to penetrate with his bare fists.

The King was an intelligent and sensitive man, however. He quickly calmed himself, gathered his composure, and signaled to his islanders to bring offerings to appease the deity.

"We've been negligent in our care." He acknowledged remorsefully while expressing relief that Dark Waters was still safe and sound. None the less backing away from the merman and towards the shore.