Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
- Joined
- Sep 7, 2019
- Location
- Jurassic Park
Saturday, September 4th, 1886
The merfolk city-state of Sanctuary Trench, 30 Miles Off & 1 Mile Under the West Coast of Sura
“I’m telling you, this rumor is preposterous, Sarama,” Karundar huffed as they wandered the marble halls of the city that played gracious host to them on the way to their hotel. It wasn’t because of the city’s design, however…he’d always dreamed of being an architect and admired how merfolk were able to create such beautiful and strong fortresses out of coral and rock. This one had stood strong since breaking away from the Kingdom of Olseka in 1880. (Meanwhile, the Kingdom's capital, Olseka, had succumbed to the ugly, brutalist trend of using soulless dampfsteel and glass from the Empire when it expanded in…the 1870s, he wanted to say. How far they’d fallen from their 5000-year golden Age of Oceans, which had ended 2000 years before the idea of Caledoria was even a sperm in that rat bastard Henry’s balls.) Then, as was his want, he pushed his oily hair back up and over his forehead.
This made the Surai woman roll her eyes. That hairstyle didn’t look bad on him, not like the cocky boys in the Chenkarat port of her youth, but she didn’t like that he’d imitated the stylings of men who pretended to be rich without any money, and she didn’t know why keeping up appearances mattered when he would just get dirt, sweat and Imperial pig blood on it anyway. But at least she could help him shower it off…and often did.
That was just one of many points they argued about often, even after bringing Lamandara Sabanis into the fold of their strike unit at the outbreak of fighting in 1884, and their romantic relationship shortly thereafter, but only after she'd expressed interest. Where had gone the poor, but honest 20-year-old Bamban farmer she’d sold whale skin fertilizer to in 1876 when she was just a 19-year-old waif, who’d plowed her like his fields of Zadrian death peppers, who made her laugh when his eyes watered from his own crop? She wondered some days. Perhaps the task of standing up to Caledoria’s armies had drained even their strength. Or perhaps it was the colossal effort of protecting that naïve girl they’d plucked from the streets and molding her into a weapon, as much as they adored her.
“I’m telling you,” she insisted in her thick, trilling accent, ever the pessimist when it came to military strategy, of which she’d seen the rebels possess extraordinarily little other than Blow up all the things, “I have reliable sources confirming this. The Kraken is dead, and that was the city’s only reliable defense against the Imperial Navy apart from its walls. Mark my words…they only need to drop depth charges on us for a few days and this place becomes our tomb. We have to prepare the whales.”
Whales, believed by some ancient animistic religions to be the source of all magic in Emada, and once a source of plentiful food, fuel, milk and clothing for most off the coast, had the ability to generate oxygen bubbles from multiple blowholes on their body that they could use to protect any person resting in them. This had been invaluable for their escape from the surface in July to continue the guerrilla war from beneath the ocean by sabotaging Imperial shipping, and as Sarama alluded to would be key to evacuating civilians if the Empire did come within striking distance. And yet, the Caledorians churned up these remarkable creatures wholesale in their monstrous whaling trawlers for their industry and gave Surabamba the scraps. Sarama knew better than anyone, as she’d joined the Rebellion with her boyfriend in 1884, when her father couldn’t afford to compete with the big boys and then was conveniently disappeared when he sued.
“Finally, something we agree on. However, the Empire is claiming some greenhorn private named Alice Guthrie tricked it into eating a Goliath, and then blew its whale oil tanks up. It seems like Imperial propaganda, because how does that make any sense?” Karundar asked, knowing better than to not bring logic into their heated discussion. “We cannot assume the worst just yet, love.”
Besides, he’d heard even darker rumors of a shadow organization within the Restored Twin Kingdom (the official name of the rebellion) that was spreading its tendrils outside of the traditional bounds of war called the Haath. Short for Jadwan Badshahon ka Haath…the Hand of the Twin King. Perhaps they were still accepting applications? But Sarama didn’t need to know just yet, he decided. His words, however, did soften Sarama’s brow in that way he managed to do, which made her sigh and take his big, calloused hand.
“Assumption or not,” she continued, “we haven’t heard from any semblance of a command on land since we left, so whether those brutes kill us or ignore us, our homeland has likely fallen. Even if the Kraken is alive, our best option is to complete Lamandara's training and sneak her to the Summer Palace as soon as possible.” This was the capital of the Imperial Province of Surabamba and the summer home right now of Empress of Caledoria, Scientist Princess, and illegitimate Queen of Sura and Bamba Emily Caldwell. It was also the indulgent nexus of the beastly forces that compelled Caledoria to place a third of the world beneath its boot, in her estimation.
“I think we can still fight on in cells all over the world, even if this city falls,” Karundar declared. “I don’t care how many cities we must burn, or how many Caledorian throats I must slit; I made an oath to die on my feet, fighting for my people, no matter where that may be. But I agree that Ms. Sabanis is our best option for, if not making the Empire leave us alone for good, then at least warning them that they will get into more trouble if they continue to brutalize Sura or Bamba.”
“We shall see about that, my dear…” Sarama said.
“Let me do the talking, hun,” Karundar grinned and squeezed her ass once they ascended the coral staircase to their room, where Lamandara resided.
“Sure thing, hun,” Sarama purred and did the same, making him jump.
Upon opening the thick oak door, Karundar gasped at Lamandara in her traditional whole body lapitnan wrap, but without the chatigharb, a traditional Bamban piece of unified undergarment that protected her breasts (chat) and entrance to her womb (gharb), meaning that he could see her nipples through the silk fabric, and the outline of her pussy lips. He’d been savoring this day since they’d taken her under their wing, and since she’d turned 18 yesterday, soon the moment of her ripening would be at hand.
“So, Lami…my love,” he said, then tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her. “You have done well with your training in assassination, stealthy movement, parkour, sword fighting, gun fighting, and the strategic use of throwable potions. You have also taken good notes during our demonstrations”- by which he meant the practice of compelling Lamandara to watch them have sex for research purposes, which made Sarama feel on display a lot of the time- "and you have much charm and seductive capability. Now, however, comes the real test. How well can you, a girl who has never lain with anyone before this day, lick and suck my fiancee, Sarama Ujjdowi…”
“Today, Karundar Ujjdowi,” Sarama said impatiently.
“You get the idea. Today we take your virginity in turn. Why don’t you go first, darling?”
“It’s not quite as easy as all that. Not between women,” Sarama huffed. She didn’t like the idea of Karundar watching, said it would make Lamandara nervous. But Karundar had declared he had more confidence in their new protégé, and Sarama knew that the freedom of all peoples under the Imperial thumb depended on him being right, so she’d caved.
“Just pretend this big gabaqoof”- the Bamban word for “dense one,” usually just meant as “doofus” in company- “isn’t here right now. Lie back, my love, and I will help you become a woman. Only then will I guide you on the tour of my gheaiba”- center of sexuality, a similar word to gharb, but more than that.
For men it was called sheshishna. And their penis was also called sheshishna. That explained everything about men to Sarama. But no matter…for now, she just took the smaller woman into her arms and kissed her lover passionately.
The merfolk city-state of Sanctuary Trench, 30 Miles Off & 1 Mile Under the West Coast of Sura
“I’m telling you, this rumor is preposterous, Sarama,” Karundar huffed as they wandered the marble halls of the city that played gracious host to them on the way to their hotel. It wasn’t because of the city’s design, however…he’d always dreamed of being an architect and admired how merfolk were able to create such beautiful and strong fortresses out of coral and rock. This one had stood strong since breaking away from the Kingdom of Olseka in 1880. (Meanwhile, the Kingdom's capital, Olseka, had succumbed to the ugly, brutalist trend of using soulless dampfsteel and glass from the Empire when it expanded in…the 1870s, he wanted to say. How far they’d fallen from their 5000-year golden Age of Oceans, which had ended 2000 years before the idea of Caledoria was even a sperm in that rat bastard Henry’s balls.) Then, as was his want, he pushed his oily hair back up and over his forehead.
This made the Surai woman roll her eyes. That hairstyle didn’t look bad on him, not like the cocky boys in the Chenkarat port of her youth, but she didn’t like that he’d imitated the stylings of men who pretended to be rich without any money, and she didn’t know why keeping up appearances mattered when he would just get dirt, sweat and Imperial pig blood on it anyway. But at least she could help him shower it off…and often did.
That was just one of many points they argued about often, even after bringing Lamandara Sabanis into the fold of their strike unit at the outbreak of fighting in 1884, and their romantic relationship shortly thereafter, but only after she'd expressed interest. Where had gone the poor, but honest 20-year-old Bamban farmer she’d sold whale skin fertilizer to in 1876 when she was just a 19-year-old waif, who’d plowed her like his fields of Zadrian death peppers, who made her laugh when his eyes watered from his own crop? She wondered some days. Perhaps the task of standing up to Caledoria’s armies had drained even their strength. Or perhaps it was the colossal effort of protecting that naïve girl they’d plucked from the streets and molding her into a weapon, as much as they adored her.
“I’m telling you,” she insisted in her thick, trilling accent, ever the pessimist when it came to military strategy, of which she’d seen the rebels possess extraordinarily little other than Blow up all the things, “I have reliable sources confirming this. The Kraken is dead, and that was the city’s only reliable defense against the Imperial Navy apart from its walls. Mark my words…they only need to drop depth charges on us for a few days and this place becomes our tomb. We have to prepare the whales.”
Whales, believed by some ancient animistic religions to be the source of all magic in Emada, and once a source of plentiful food, fuel, milk and clothing for most off the coast, had the ability to generate oxygen bubbles from multiple blowholes on their body that they could use to protect any person resting in them. This had been invaluable for their escape from the surface in July to continue the guerrilla war from beneath the ocean by sabotaging Imperial shipping, and as Sarama alluded to would be key to evacuating civilians if the Empire did come within striking distance. And yet, the Caledorians churned up these remarkable creatures wholesale in their monstrous whaling trawlers for their industry and gave Surabamba the scraps. Sarama knew better than anyone, as she’d joined the Rebellion with her boyfriend in 1884, when her father couldn’t afford to compete with the big boys and then was conveniently disappeared when he sued.
“Finally, something we agree on. However, the Empire is claiming some greenhorn private named Alice Guthrie tricked it into eating a Goliath, and then blew its whale oil tanks up. It seems like Imperial propaganda, because how does that make any sense?” Karundar asked, knowing better than to not bring logic into their heated discussion. “We cannot assume the worst just yet, love.”
Besides, he’d heard even darker rumors of a shadow organization within the Restored Twin Kingdom (the official name of the rebellion) that was spreading its tendrils outside of the traditional bounds of war called the Haath. Short for Jadwan Badshahon ka Haath…the Hand of the Twin King. Perhaps they were still accepting applications? But Sarama didn’t need to know just yet, he decided. His words, however, did soften Sarama’s brow in that way he managed to do, which made her sigh and take his big, calloused hand.
“Assumption or not,” she continued, “we haven’t heard from any semblance of a command on land since we left, so whether those brutes kill us or ignore us, our homeland has likely fallen. Even if the Kraken is alive, our best option is to complete Lamandara's training and sneak her to the Summer Palace as soon as possible.” This was the capital of the Imperial Province of Surabamba and the summer home right now of Empress of Caledoria, Scientist Princess, and illegitimate Queen of Sura and Bamba Emily Caldwell. It was also the indulgent nexus of the beastly forces that compelled Caledoria to place a third of the world beneath its boot, in her estimation.
“I think we can still fight on in cells all over the world, even if this city falls,” Karundar declared. “I don’t care how many cities we must burn, or how many Caledorian throats I must slit; I made an oath to die on my feet, fighting for my people, no matter where that may be. But I agree that Ms. Sabanis is our best option for, if not making the Empire leave us alone for good, then at least warning them that they will get into more trouble if they continue to brutalize Sura or Bamba.”
“We shall see about that, my dear…” Sarama said.
“Let me do the talking, hun,” Karundar grinned and squeezed her ass once they ascended the coral staircase to their room, where Lamandara resided.
“Sure thing, hun,” Sarama purred and did the same, making him jump.
Upon opening the thick oak door, Karundar gasped at Lamandara in her traditional whole body lapitnan wrap, but without the chatigharb, a traditional Bamban piece of unified undergarment that protected her breasts (chat) and entrance to her womb (gharb), meaning that he could see her nipples through the silk fabric, and the outline of her pussy lips. He’d been savoring this day since they’d taken her under their wing, and since she’d turned 18 yesterday, soon the moment of her ripening would be at hand.
“So, Lami…my love,” he said, then tilted her chin up and leaned down to kiss her. “You have done well with your training in assassination, stealthy movement, parkour, sword fighting, gun fighting, and the strategic use of throwable potions. You have also taken good notes during our demonstrations”- by which he meant the practice of compelling Lamandara to watch them have sex for research purposes, which made Sarama feel on display a lot of the time- "and you have much charm and seductive capability. Now, however, comes the real test. How well can you, a girl who has never lain with anyone before this day, lick and suck my fiancee, Sarama Ujjdowi…”
“Today, Karundar Ujjdowi,” Sarama said impatiently.
“You get the idea. Today we take your virginity in turn. Why don’t you go first, darling?”
“It’s not quite as easy as all that. Not between women,” Sarama huffed. She didn’t like the idea of Karundar watching, said it would make Lamandara nervous. But Karundar had declared he had more confidence in their new protégé, and Sarama knew that the freedom of all peoples under the Imperial thumb depended on him being right, so she’d caved.
“Just pretend this big gabaqoof”- the Bamban word for “dense one,” usually just meant as “doofus” in company- “isn’t here right now. Lie back, my love, and I will help you become a woman. Only then will I guide you on the tour of my gheaiba”- center of sexuality, a similar word to gharb, but more than that.
For men it was called sheshishna. And their penis was also called sheshishna. That explained everything about men to Sarama. But no matter…for now, she just took the smaller woman into her arms and kissed her lover passionately.
Last edited:
