Stranger Tides

By Clea Kinderton

Stacy’s straight to gay island paradise is disrupted when a strange man washes ashore.

Stacy has come to terms with his homosexuality and adjusted to his new role as the communal gay lover of his four ruggedly handsome, masculine straight friends, but his island paradise is disrupted when a strange man in a wet suit suddenly washes ashore.

Can the beautiful stranger answer their questions about the mysterious events unfolding on the island and the origin of the primitive fish man statue? Or does he have a darker, more sinister objective?

One thing is certain: tensions ... and passions ... are on the rise...

This 30,000 word (90+ pages) straight guys for gay guys straight to gay conversion gangbang sizzles with hot, hard bareback oral, anal, double and triple penetrations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clea Kinderton
• Release date: Mar 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310107900

Clea Kinderton

I've always had a wild imagination. I love fat fantasy novels, B movies, comic books, and scifi. But I also love romance and sex and you'll find plenty of both along with a good dose of action, mystery, humor, and suspense jampacked into some of the hottest, hardest, kinkiest stories you may ever read. Strap yourself in, it's going to be a wild ride... Follow me on Ello: https://ello.co/cleakinderton

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

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Stacy was having the dream again.

He was in the ruins, inside a circular tower. The floor was a bare ring of stone surrounding a gently sloshing pool. The walls of the tower were as smooth as poured concrete. Several large, trapezoid-shaped windows had been cut into the thick walls and he could see the ocean through them, a rolling, foaming tide that dashed itself against the rocks and filled the air with a briny mist.

Stacy was naked, but he didn’t feel cold. Warmth seemed to rise up from the stones under his feet and the damp breeze felt good on his bare skin. A ramp rose up to his left and circled around the tower for about fifty feet before coming to an abrupt end. The top of the tower was exposed to the sky, the walls jagged as if the upper levels had been swept away by a giant hand. Stacy heard a squawk and saw a white shape flash across the hazy blue circle of the heavens. There was a dark passage behind him. He had a vague memory of having traveled through that long, narrow stone hallway, of having used it to reach this solitary tower that was set apart from the city. Had he been fleeing from something? He couldn’t remember. Perhaps he’d just wandered. There was a leather collar around his neck. The inside of the collar was padded with fur and there was a hook where a chain could be attached.

Stacy looked down at his feet. The pool of water wasn’t a pool, really; it was the ocean filling the lower levels of the tower. A ramp to his right descended into the water, which was slowly rising and falling, spilling over the edge of the stones and making them wet. Stacy had no idea how deep the well went, how far the city had sunk into the ocean. The water was unusually clear, and he could see down quite a ways, perhaps another fifty or even a hundred feet; then the water became too murky to make anything out. He wanted to swim down there and find the bottom, to walk the streets of the ruined city on the ocean bed, but it was impossible. He couldn’t hold his breath for more than a few seconds. He could barely even swim.

A sound behind him caught his attention. It was a croaking sound, like a frog, but much deeper and louder. It made him feel vaguely uneasy.

Stacy turned and saw a human-like creature approaching. It was large, perhaps seven feet tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, but with scaly skin that shimmered silver like the scales of a fish. It had webbed hands and feet and small fins on its arms and legs. Its eyes were enormous and dark — dead, like the eyes of a fish — and it had a broad, lipless mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth. It had no nose or ears, but there were gills rustling softly on the sides of its neck. It was carrying a net in one hand and a trident in the other.

Stacy’s heart began to race. He remembered now. The fish men. They were holding him captive. Or perhaps he was more like a pet? He couldn’t remember the details exactly. He was having trouble thinking. He knew it would be pointless to try to escape from the creature. But he didn’t think he was in any danger as long as he did what he was told.

The creature spoke to him with a series of odd chirping, barking, and trilling sounds. Stacy didn’t understand what it was saying, but he got the impression that the creature was annoyed with him. It stopped beside him on the edge of the pool and looked down into the water. It made a croaking sound and pointed with its trident at something moving below the surface, perhaps thirty feet down. It looked like a shark.

The fish man slipped into the water, as graceful as a seal, and kicked its legs, swimming down toward the large, gray fish. Stacy crouched down at the edge of the stone and stared after it, watching in fascination at the way the creature moved. Its powerful limbs flowed effortlessly, cutting the water as easily as Stacy’s limbs moved through air. The shark turned, alerted to the fish man’s presence. There was a flash of steel as the fish man struck with its trident, and then the shark jerked and twisted away, trailing blood. Stacy felt something strange happening to him and looked down.

He had an erection.

CHAPTER TWO

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Stacy woke up to the sound of birds singing.

The sky through the door of the hut was turning a lighter shade of blue. It was dawn. Soon the sun would be up. Buck was asleep on the bed of leaves and moss beside him, snoring softly. The big, muscular man was naked, his chest, belly, and thighs covered with small hairs. His blond beard and hair were thick like a Viking’s. Stacy wanted to wrap his arm over Buck’s chest, to use the warmth of the other man’s body as a shield against the dawn’s chill. Stacy’s cock was hard, though whether it was owing to the dream, or morning wood, or Buck’s naked body he couldn’t say. He briefly considered waking the other man up with a blowjob, but decided to let him sleep. Buck had exerted himself a lot the previous night.

Stacy was too awake to go back to sleep so he got up, crawling over Buck and ducking down under the half-curtain of leaves hanging over the door of the hut. He emerged onto the sand of the beach and saw a dark silhouette sitting on a log by the water. He couldn’t tell who it was from that distance. It might have been Henry, Amir, or Lawrence. He walked toward the figure.

It was Henry.

Henry was their resident scientist — one of the most important marine geologists in the world — now stranded like the rest of them on the remote Pacific island. He was ruggedly handsome, and his sandy brown beard and hair were almost as wild as Buck’s. He was naked as well, but they’d all given up on wearing clothing months ago. Henry was twirling a stick between the palms of his hands. It was the stick he used for drawing in the sand. Stacy knew there were diagrams and equations etched in the sand at Henry’s feet, but it was too dark to see them.

Couldn’t sleep? Stacy said, walking around the edge of Henry’s sandy scratch pad to sit beside him on the log. The ocean surf was a soothing, magical sound that Stacy never got tired of listening to. The briny smell, and the pungent aromas of things washed ashore, were things that he’d simply gotten used to.

Henry nodded. Insomnia’s acting up again, he said in his gruff voice. Henry seemed perpetually restless. He disliked being stuck on the island and paced its length and breadth like a tiger in a cage.

Stacy put his arm around the other man and gave him a hug, resting his head on Henry’s shoulder. Stacy had adapted quickly to the new role the other men had forced upon him; he’d found it surprisingly easy to get in touch with his empathetic, nurturing side once he’d admitted his long repressed homosexual yearnings. Stacy liked men — loved them, in fact — and was glad that he no longer had to hide it from anyone. Especially himself. For the most part, the other men put up with Stacy’s displays of affection; he could tell they were still somewhat uncomfortable about being tender with him — they were straight, after all, and he wasn’t a woman — but they didn’t seem to have any problem using him to gratify their sexual desires. They did it often, and Stacy was eager to accommodate them.

Would you like some help relieving some of that tension? said Stacy, letting his hand slide down Henry’s torso to his lap. He could feel the muscle of Henry’s thigh flex in response.

Stacy had learned that Henry was not given to openly communicating his needs, but he took Henry’s lack of rebuff as an invitation to proceed. Stacy ran his hand up Henry’s inner thigh, feeling the little hairs and the warmth of his skin against the palm of his hand. Stacy felt his own cock growing harder in anticipation and knew that Henry would be feeling the same way. He reached over and found Henry’s cock in the relative darkness, wrapping his fingers around it. Stacy felt a thrill of excitement when he felt how hard Henry’s shaft was. Stacy ran his fingers up and down the length of it, teasing him a little, until the other man’s cock was throbbing and straining with anticipation. Henry’s breathing had become deeper and stronger, his body tense.

Stacy slipped down onto his knees in the sand, careful not to disturb Henry’s equations. He put his hands on Henry’s knees and spread the man’s legs, crouching between them. He took Henry’s cock in his hand again and bent down and stroked the tip