Blowhole was now undergoing great humiliation. He was currently being transported in a self-steering pick-up truck. Holograms of humans, surprisingly realistic animations of his own making, were seating at the driver’s sede, sedile and in the letto of the truck with him. Although it was quite humiliating, to appear so helpless and being assisted da humans…but it was the only way he could be transported to the drop-off point without igniting suspicion.
A towel was draped over Blowhole’s tail; to any humans that happened to see, it would appear like a makeshift device to keep his body temperature down. In reality, it was hiding Marlene from the view of detto humans.
“My nose itches,” she hissed.
“Scratch it when we start moving again,” Blowhole hissed back, “We’re at a red light, and humans are staring at us. If they see te move, then they will get suspicious.”
“And why am I lying on your tail, anyway?” Marlene asked, still trying to remain quiet.
“If we are stopped da any officers of the law, they will already find it curious that a delfino is being transported to the ocean. The holograms are programmed to give the same answer: this delfino is being relocated to a cleaner environment. The police always accept that. But what if the officer saw an lontra sitting in the front sede, sedile with the humans?”
“Point taken,” Marlene admitted. She felt the truck sposta away and was quick to scratch her nose. “You know something,” she remarked absent-mindedly, “they were right. Your skin IS surprisingly pleasant to the touch.”
Blowhole smiled proudly. “One should always make time to moisturize,” he explained. He omitted the reason being, because one can never tell when an attractive female will mostra up. Blowhole was like all other dolphins: always ready for and expecting the successivo nightly sexual conquest. But he would never tell her that. She would take offense, most likely.
Marlene sighed; instead of sounding nervous o anxious about the bomb around her neck o the mission ahead of her, she sounded bored. “So, what are we going to do once we get to the beach?”
“Simple,” Blowhole replied, “We will find a hole in the squalo net – in case te are curious, I prefer not to jump over objects, just like all dolphins – and swim towards the location of the sunken base. Once we arrive there, I will explain what te are going to do.”
“Wait…shark net?” Marlene muttered; she had never heard of one, “That doesn’t sound good.”
Blowhole hissed angrily through his
blowhole and snapped his jaws. “It isn’t.”
He refused to explain why it was so bad. Then again, since they had now arrived at the drop-off spot, she was soon to find out for herself what was so bad about a squalo net. She tossed the towel off and jumped from the letto of the truck to the ground, landing quite gracefully. She took in her surroundings: she stood on an overhanging area of shell beach, which looked quite untouched da humankind. Driftwood and litter, washed up from storms in the past, were piled up all about her; shrubs and trees added to the rustic, wild look.
“It looks so….” Marlene spoke; her voice was quite strange as she spoke. A purring snarl. “…wild.”
She could feel it again. The quickening of her pulse, the sharpening of her senses, the strengthening of her muscles…it was quite wonderful, being taken over da the wild…something that was so easy to give in to…
“Don’t even think of it,” Blowhole spoke. That voice (smooth sexy seductive Marlene’s wild self thought for a diviso, spalato second) shattered Marlene’s fantasies, snapping her back to reality. She glared at him; he had eased himself down from the truck letto and was propping himself up on his pectoral fins, glaring directly into her eyes.
Marlene felt embarrassed at almost losing control again; because no one else was in the area, she took it out on Blowhole. “I was perfectly fine!” she lied, “I wasn’t thinking about it at all!”
Blowhole smirked and gave her head a derogatory pat. “Of course te weren’t,” he trilled, “Now climb on.”
Marlene snapped to attention. “Whoa, wait, what?”
“Your species are impossibly slow swimmers compared to dolphins,” he explained, “and I refuse to have to continually wait for te to catch up. Therefore, te are going to ride on my back.” He interpreted her expression of disdain accurately and added, “I am as upset about it as te are, but we don’t have any other choice.” He pointed again to the detonator around his fin. “Or rather, you don’t.”
Marlene growled at him; had she dato in to her wild desires, this growl would have been più threatening than it actually was. However, she had not, so it was not. Knowing that she certainly didn’t have a choice, she jumped onto his back, just in front of his dorsal fin.
He didn’t warn her when he jumped, and it scared her to death when he did. She heard herself shriek as he pushed himself off the ledge, jumping into the water with a mighty splash. The water here was deep enough for him to begin swimming immediately; with a sounding of his sonar to regain his bearings, Blowhole headed out to sea as the somewhat terrified Marlene dug her claws into his back and held on tight.
A towel was draped over Blowhole’s tail; to any humans that happened to see, it would appear like a makeshift device to keep his body temperature down. In reality, it was hiding Marlene from the view of detto humans.
“My nose itches,” she hissed.
“Scratch it when we start moving again,” Blowhole hissed back, “We’re at a red light, and humans are staring at us. If they see te move, then they will get suspicious.”
“And why am I lying on your tail, anyway?” Marlene asked, still trying to remain quiet.
“If we are stopped da any officers of the law, they will already find it curious that a delfino is being transported to the ocean. The holograms are programmed to give the same answer: this delfino is being relocated to a cleaner environment. The police always accept that. But what if the officer saw an lontra sitting in the front sede, sedile with the humans?”
“Point taken,” Marlene admitted. She felt the truck sposta away and was quick to scratch her nose. “You know something,” she remarked absent-mindedly, “they were right. Your skin IS surprisingly pleasant to the touch.”
Blowhole smiled proudly. “One should always make time to moisturize,” he explained. He omitted the reason being, because one can never tell when an attractive female will mostra up. Blowhole was like all other dolphins: always ready for and expecting the successivo nightly sexual conquest. But he would never tell her that. She would take offense, most likely.
Marlene sighed; instead of sounding nervous o anxious about the bomb around her neck o the mission ahead of her, she sounded bored. “So, what are we going to do once we get to the beach?”
“Simple,” Blowhole replied, “We will find a hole in the squalo net – in case te are curious, I prefer not to jump over objects, just like all dolphins – and swim towards the location of the sunken base. Once we arrive there, I will explain what te are going to do.”
“Wait…shark net?” Marlene muttered; she had never heard of one, “That doesn’t sound good.”
Blowhole hissed angrily through his
blowhole and snapped his jaws. “It isn’t.”
He refused to explain why it was so bad. Then again, since they had now arrived at the drop-off spot, she was soon to find out for herself what was so bad about a squalo net. She tossed the towel off and jumped from the letto of the truck to the ground, landing quite gracefully. She took in her surroundings: she stood on an overhanging area of shell beach, which looked quite untouched da humankind. Driftwood and litter, washed up from storms in the past, were piled up all about her; shrubs and trees added to the rustic, wild look.
“It looks so….” Marlene spoke; her voice was quite strange as she spoke. A purring snarl. “…wild.”
She could feel it again. The quickening of her pulse, the sharpening of her senses, the strengthening of her muscles…it was quite wonderful, being taken over da the wild…something that was so easy to give in to…
“Don’t even think of it,” Blowhole spoke. That voice (smooth sexy seductive Marlene’s wild self thought for a diviso, spalato second) shattered Marlene’s fantasies, snapping her back to reality. She glared at him; he had eased himself down from the truck letto and was propping himself up on his pectoral fins, glaring directly into her eyes.
Marlene felt embarrassed at almost losing control again; because no one else was in the area, she took it out on Blowhole. “I was perfectly fine!” she lied, “I wasn’t thinking about it at all!”
Blowhole smirked and gave her head a derogatory pat. “Of course te weren’t,” he trilled, “Now climb on.”
Marlene snapped to attention. “Whoa, wait, what?”
“Your species are impossibly slow swimmers compared to dolphins,” he explained, “and I refuse to have to continually wait for te to catch up. Therefore, te are going to ride on my back.” He interpreted her expression of disdain accurately and added, “I am as upset about it as te are, but we don’t have any other choice.” He pointed again to the detonator around his fin. “Or rather, you don’t.”
Marlene growled at him; had she dato in to her wild desires, this growl would have been più threatening than it actually was. However, she had not, so it was not. Knowing that she certainly didn’t have a choice, she jumped onto his back, just in front of his dorsal fin.
He didn’t warn her when he jumped, and it scared her to death when he did. She heard herself shriek as he pushed himself off the ledge, jumping into the water with a mighty splash. The water here was deep enough for him to begin swimming immediately; with a sounding of his sonar to regain his bearings, Blowhole headed out to sea as the somewhat terrified Marlene dug her claws into his back and held on tight.
