6

Bipedally, Gatorella takes Templeton and Ms. O'Hannorhan into his submarine island lair. He leaves them on the same rock, that's isolated from the lair's shores.

Ms. O'Hannorhan is petrified. Templeton likes the feel of her inflated ass against his groin...as mutually terrified as he is of their captor...

Gatorella's gone. They're alone in his lair.

Across the waters, there's a pile of ships' scrap. Templeton's got NO idea what Gatorella does with this. Part of him would rather not find out. Templeton can't help but wonder where he keeps the hull numbers, the ships' names, and the colors of the many ships he's probably torn to flotsam.

He's also drawn pictures on the lair walls. Templeton sure wishes he could decipher them.

Shafts open into the island's surface. Templeton sure wishes they were a more secure climb...or a more secure swim to where they'd have to climb...

"Templeton, I'm scared!" She guides his face with her hand. She looks into his eyes. "I don't know if I'm going to survive this!"

Templeton nods, nervously. "We will," he says. "I don't know, but we will. We will go back to wherever we were...whatever that is."

She smiles, and kisses him. He doesn't know if she should.

She gets on top of him, and makes out with him. Her boobs inflate. Her ass inflates. Templeton never gets over how gorgeous she is in that leopard bikini. He's glad she came here with him. For once, he isn't scared that Gatorella's going to cook them...or why ever else Gatorella wouldn't pan-simmer two fresh humans he's caught.