2 comments/ 26769 views/ 11 favorites The Mermaid's New Slave Ch. 01 By: Inkidu Man and the sea are inexorably connected to one another. From the time we crawled from its watery bosom, whether by the hand of the immaculate or not, we have been trying to go back home for centuries. Anyone will tell you that the sea is a hard, unforgiving, and often cruel place to put your feet; it hasn't stopped people from trying to tame her wild beauty. Some would say that we conquered her and her untold bounty, but all my problems stemmed from this false sense of security that we humans have built up. I'm twenty-three and my life lacks direction. I signed on to crew one of the many supertankers that deliver cheap crap from China across the Panama Canal to even cheaper consumers in Europe and America. I graduated college with a history degree and a minor in drama. My favored field would have been myth and culture, but when you can't find a job where you want you take what you can get. Life on a super tanker isn't that great. The ships are big and certainly impressive in a utilitarian kind of way. However, the lack any real sense of grandeur or majesty. Call me a romantic, but the old girl was ugly and dependable if not sexy and coquettish. She was well-kept, but hardly gleaming with bright, shiny newness. I was part of a fourteen-man crew. You didn't need a whole lot of people to do this kind of sailing. The computers and people more competent than I am take care of the heavy lifting. I was actually brought on board because they had to fill a minimum headcount. I'm hardly what one would call qualified for the job. Still, despite the barren and slightly-rusted innards that represented the global economy more than exploration and wonder, there was still something profound about walking above decks. The deep ageless blue of the Pacific, the agitated power of the Atlantic, and my smallness when I looked out upon it all touched me deeply. Despite these feelings of awe I never thought I was any real danger. Ship wrecks were less common than plane crashes or death by falling coconut, what did I have to worry about. November 19 It was about 20:49 when the storm hit. Oh, it had been raining and fussing in this squalid part of the Pacific, but I was safe and dry in my tiny cabin with its books, TV, and posters of pinup girls I wish were naked by this point in the journey. I was trying to get to bed and reading the thickest book in my small little library. I was yawning and my plan was going off without a hitch. Soon I'd be in la-la land just like everyone but the poor bastard on watch. They couldn't technically make me take watch, but I still offered. It was just good fortune it wasn't my night. Twenty minutes later there came this terrible yawning groan of stressed metal. You hear it in movies about submarines all the time. However, being on the inside of a cavernous supertanker made it sound like Satan's very own devil-whale was going to come and drag you down to a watery hell. I was up and getting dressed. Boots were hitting bare metal flooring and people were shouting. We all made it to the bridge and from the glass I saw what was happening to our ship. It seemed to me that there was more angry cloud than ocean. It spit lightning and roared its displeasure. It was like black foam, whipping and frothing from the mouth of some great rabid god. I felt the tanker pitch and roll under me. I felt it begin to rock from side to side. Giant metal corrugated containers were being thrown overboard willy-nilly like the wind was looking for something. I would think back on it later and recall reports of a hurricane, but we had no reason to believe it would have shifted so radically toward us. There was a sudden great heave, and I was suddenly seeing double. I was suddenly nauseous and the metal taste of blood was in my mouth. How had I ended up on the floor. The skipper of the tanker ordered a man to bring me to the sickbay. The only problem was that it could only be reached by going outside, if only for a brief moment. I was in no mood to protest this though, so I went without objection. The cold wind of the hurricane and the biting sting of sleet and small pebbles of hail did not make me feel any better. There was a loud clap of thunder and the boat rocked once again. I was heaved up over the rail and into the sea below. My escort tried to throw a life preserver, but to no avail. I was already gone. November 21 I remember waking and feeling cold. The room was dark... dark and shiny? Surely I'm drowned and this is the great void, the inky blackness that death is. Well, if that was true the person who said dead people no longer feel any pain is full of crap. I ached all over. I was sore and thirsty and it was all I could do to roll over on my stomach. Something was off. I could tell that I was in some kind of cave by now, but why was the ground so soft. I realized that I was naked in a very, very large mission-style bed. It was heaped high with pillows and covers. Now I knew I had to be dead, where else would the freaking bed come from? I remember the water all around me and I remember blacking out, but nothing about a bed. I rolled back onto my back and tried to sit up. After some effort I managed to get somewhat upright. That's when she walked in. She wasn't horribly tall. I had about a head on her, but you couldn't call her petite. She stood about five feet and nine inches. She looked perpetually wet, her hair clinging to her scalp, it itself being very short and cute... sporty even... oddly chic... but I'm getting ahead of myself. She had large breasts, probably about DD or a small, small E cup. Light rosy pink nipples adorned them. Her legs were long, but thick, not fatty, but intensely muscular. She had large womanly hips and a skinny waist. Her stomach was six well-defined muscles but she still managed to back on the proper amount of fat for her curves. Now the weird stuff... her eyes were one solid color. She had whites but there was no pupil just dark-green pools of color. She had rough looking patches of skin at her joints and on her legs around the fins. They weren't large, but she had fins. Probably three-quarters of an inch high and from mid forearm to elbow and on the sides of her legs from knee to mid-calf, she also had webbed feet and hands. Her hands only had about to the first knuckle but her feet were completely webbed to just before the nail. Her nails, by the way, were expertly manicured. She sashayed over to the bed a put her large firm bottom right down on it. She smiled at me with big, pillowy, pouty lips and green eyes. "How are we feeling?" She asked in English with a fairly thick but not indiscernible Spanish accent. "I've... been... better?" I said hesitantly. "Good." She replied. Her voice was a low tenor, not sultry but warm and inviting. My brain had a faint idea what I was looking at, but I didn't want to believe it. Plus, it could have been considered rude. She put her hand on my forehead, bending over to do so. Her breasts took on a lovelier shape as gravity took effect. Manners be damned, "Are you a mermaid?" I asked, "Or am I just dead." She giggled, "Yes and no." She turned her head and pulled an ear out of the way. Behind it small and discrete were little slits, gills. "Thank you for saving me." I said. She giggled again, lower, "Do not mention it, lover." She looked at her nails, "Besides, you look like a man who knows how to pay his obligations." "Well, I wouldn't want to appear ungrateful. Err... how did you now I speak English?" I posed. "You talk in your sleep, and mermaids live a long time, I've picked up a few tongues." "Interesting." I replied, "I guess I better see about leaving this... I'm going to assume cove... and back to the mainland." "No so fast, lover." Her voice got a little harder. She straddled my chest her naked sex clearly within sight. I felt the weight of her. She was heavy and powerful. "I own you now, rule of the sea. I need a new slave, and you're it." "Look," I said indignantly, "I can't be your—" She clamped a hand around my mouth. She smelled of sea flowers and fresh breezes. "You don't have a choice, besides... you're going to take my first offer." She pulled out a small bottle and opened it. From it she took a pearlescent drop of water. It was a tear, or it looked to be one. "We mermaids produce one egg every one hundred years." I was wrong then. She offered no other explanation she just shoved the little orb in my mouth and held my nose and mouth until I swallowed. "Now you're mine. It's not magic... simple narcotics... you'll find lying with me to have other beneficial effects upon your body." She was right though. I began to feel warm and aroused. My cock was growing hard. She yanked back the covers as she stood up. She appraised my hard length with an appreciative eye. She turned around and promptly sat on my face. Her large ass cheeks nearly smothered me, but she was a pro. Her cunt was forced into my mouth. She was wet, and she tasted sweet. I mean that literally. She moaned as I began sucking her wetness, drinking it in. "Good, slave." She moaned groping one of her large breasts. Her hand wrapped around my cock and stroked me. She seemed to be in no hurry. I at her pussy up and down and she moaned. She road and bumped against me. I loved the feeling, and I couldn't think straight. Her egg, whatever it was strong. I speared her with my tongue and she forced a whole other inch of my wriggling muscle into her womanhood. "Yes." She said smoothly. "I'm going to enjoy you." I came soon after. My sperm coated her hand. I thought she would be mad, but she seemed to revel in the sexual fluid. She licked it greedily from her hand. My hands were on her ass holding her on my tongue. It would be teen whole minutes before I got her to cum .She screamed and let go. Ounce after ounce of the stuff flowed into my mouth. She screamed at me to drink it like a good slave and I did in my confused state. She came in a flood. I couldn't drink anymore. It exploded warm and thick against my face. It flowed copiously down onto the bed and ejaculated with such force I some shoot up from between her ass cheeks. She removed herself from me leaving me gasping like a drowned man. "did you like your mistress's nectar, lover?" She cooed kissing my face and lips hotly. I needed coughing up some of it and kissing her back. I could only imagine what would be next. The Mermaid's New Slave Ch. 02 November 22 The mermaid tied me to the bed with rope. It wasn't very binding. Like calling me slave, she did it as a practicality or custom more than any real measure. She knew I couldn't go anywhere. Despite my exertion yesterday I was apparently in rough shape. I felt like one giant bruise, but I was getting better. She didn't lie in the bed with me, preferring whatever mermaid bedchamber she frequented. I felt a little neglected at this, I didn't know why. I blamed it on her egg. Everything felt warm and fuzzy when I want to bed and I woke up with what I could only describe as having sex and a hangover simultaneously. I woke unbound and with my head resting on creamy-colored thighs. She wasn't pale, but she wasn't tanned. She wasn't actually naked. She was wearing a toga like deal. The amount of fabric was not what one would call traditional and it barely contained her voluptuous body. In fact it didn't contain her breasts. "Good morning, lover." She said stroking my hair softly. My hangover-esque pain was gone, and the sex part was climbing up. It was something in the way she smelled that was infinitely calming to me. I wasn't getting horny, and with two large breasts above my head I should have been pitching the tent. I chalked it up to being too hurt. She ran a hand through her platinum, almost white, blonde hair. "At least you're handsome, lover." She smiled. It was a warm loving smile that she had no right to give as she held me against my will, or at least, I liked to think it was against my will. Right now I was busy trying to turn mermaid thigh into the best pillow I ever had. "Strong features, blue eyes, dark-brown hair. Not too muscular... a swimmer, no?" She said, I nodded. "I like swimmers." I gave a wry chuckle at her joke. She wrote it off with disdained appreciation. "If you're such a swimmer, how come you look like that?" I asked. "Genetics." She beamed, "Also, when you swim underwater for hours on end. It tends to build up the ass muscles. Given my natural mermaid proclivity to build up fat, and you get this." She put my head back on the pillows of the bed and stood. Turning she bent over. Her shapely rear wiggled. She talked about her body with supreme confidence. She could throw around words like fat because she knew it made her look incredibly sexy. She had the aloof surety. "Do you like it?" She said slapping her forty-eight inches of rump. "Very much." I said rather more amorously than I intended. "Good," She smiled a little smile. Other needs were catching up to me. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm very thirsty." She smiled sauntered back over to me helped me prop myself against the backboard. "My poor, baby." She mused. "You're in rough shape. Don't worry, mistress has the cure for all that pains you." She rose, and for the second time her womanhood was inches from my mouth. She was already a little wet, her pearly nectar flowing down her thighs in little solitary streams. "Drink all you want." She said wiggling her hips. "I can't drink that!" I said shocked. She crossed her arms over ample breasts. "Why not? I am no mere mortal woman. My essence will not only sustain you, but heal you... and provide certain other benefits. I suppose I could give you water, but I'm your mistress and I demand you drink." So for the second time I put my lips to her sex and sucked. I tongued her until she began to scream with delight. Her juices flowed into my mouth and I drank. I knew I could have defied her, but she was much stronger than me. Plus it tasted good. If you want to find out I suggest you get your own mermaid. She never seemed to stop, and I drank well after I was done. My fingers grasped into her ass. She came once, and that put an end to my imbibing. Her orgasms were very powerful. She rest atop me panting her pleasure. "Greedy boy." She teased. "You'll thank later." "I'll thank you now." I remarked in amazement. "You're welcome, but you'll thank me later. What's your name, stud." She said kissing my chest. "Harrison Tyler." I said, "Should I just call you mistress?" I remarked candidly. "You will, but you could add Rosetta at the end of it and I would not beat you." November 26 She didn't visit me at all after that day after the first time we met. I found I missed her disgustingly too soon. I started to become irate and impassioned... not to mention horny. I could also swear that I was bigger too. I used to be a modest six inches, but now it looked more like seven. I was masturbating a lot with her gone. She didn't tie me up. She let me wander her cover (which was what it was) with complete confidence in her ability. I figured out quickly that she didn't have to subjugate me to feel like the mistress. She knew she was and relied on me to subjugate myself. The cove was a large part of a small island. I could probably make a signal fire and get off the over—glorified sandbar, but I didn't want to. I never had to worry about food. She always left me some kind of seafood with rice or bread, and a vegetable. The water she gave me to drink tasted like diluted nectar. Then she came back, and I was so happy. She sashayed through the arch, naked save for a few ornamental chains with coins hanging around her slim waist and off her curvaceous hips. "Did you miss me, lover." She said winking one deep-green, pupil-less eye. She walked to me and put a foot to my chest. I had been sitting on the bed masturbating. I was a little embarrassed that shed' caught me, but she didn't seem mad. "I hope you were thinking of me." She said. "I can't think of anyone else." Damn her it was proof that she was a good mistress. Her time away had fostered these feelings. Plus whatever she kept putting into my body. I couldn't help that. I realized that going without her pearly need made me have a hangover like the first morning after. I looked down her long, shapely calf and tried not to cum. She pushed me down and stepped up onto the bed with practiced grace. She simply sat down on my hard cock and began riding me hard. Her breasts shook, her ass jiggled ever so slightly against the muscle she'd built up in it.. "Oh, you had a good reaction." She squealed. I grunted and groaned at the tightness of her pussy. Her perpetually wet—looking body gleaming in the dim light of the cave-like bedroom. She rubbed her own breasts and road me using nothing but her powerful leg muscles. I grabbed her ass sinking my fingers into the large swell. I came. It was almost as good as one of her orgasms. I heard her scream and moan for more as I felt ounce after ounce leave my penis and fill Rosetta up until the point where my need flowed down onto the bed. Rosetta came soon after. It was obvious she expected more. She didn't stop. She simply leaned in and began kissing me. It was hot and wet. Our tongues wrestled, and she won. Her hands grabbed the side of my face as she rutted against my still-hard shaft. "Yes, baby!" She said. She pulled up my desire and her own mingling. She turned over and wedge my cock in the canyon of her impressive ass. Up and down she went rubbing me off. It was already well lubed from the other activities of the afternoon. I hated myself for not putting up more of a fight, but mostly I just enjoyed cumming all over her ass. She shouted with delight at the hot thick ropes that covered her ass. She bent over doggy style after I came on her ass. I watched my spunk, copious it was becoming under her narcotic guidance, run down her ass and legs. I crawled after her and began kissing and rubbing her ass. I wet my fingers with my used seed and finger her. She liked it. "Why did you go away?" I asked. "Because I am the sea." She said. The Mermaid's New Slave Ch. 03 November 31 Rosetta was wearing a flimsy sarong and dancing. She had me sit in a chair. I hadn't worn clothes for a while. She wasn't putting the show on expressly for me. She decided she'd like to dance and wanted an audience. It didn't upset me. I was just happy that she had stayed around a few days. It had been nice. I didn't feel so much like a slave. We ate breakfast together and I would bathe her. Then I would bathe. She hadn't been intimate with me in the water yet. Most days she ordered me to stay in bed and see to her every whim. Her ass was the focus of her dance. She rolled it in front of me for minutes. She didn't shake it like you'd expect it was more like a belly dance. When she was done I would know it. Rosetta finished and turned to me, that gleam was in her eye. She was the princess, the mistress. I had made the mistake of telling her now once in our time together. She didn't beat me or anything. I think she could break me in half if she wanted to. No, physical punishment beyond the spanking or the riding crop she'd liked to use. Though that wasn't her way of punishing me. No, she just drove me nuts. She bound me and took away my ability to move or speak, and then she'd spank me or orgasm on me. I watched too much of her nectar hit the stone while I thirsted. "Beatings are not effective." She'd always say, "Denial is much better." She was happy with me again though, and honestly, I was elated that I was back on her good side. She walked up dropping the sarong and she left the corset on. It looked like something out of the sixteen-hundreds and she had said as much when I'd asked her about it. She liked talking with me. Honestly, I think she missed talking to people almost as much as she liked sex. She was hardly a nymphomaniac, but she sure seemed to be making up for lost time. Not that she admitted it to me. She swung her hips and climbed up on me. I wrapped her arms around me and kissed me roughly. "Did my cute little slave enjoy his dance?" I ran my hands through her hair, it was wet feeling like usual. "Will you be joining me for dinner?" She asked tickling her fingers across my chest. "Your mistress has a sexy little black dress she wants to slip out of." "Of course, mistress." I said, it was becoming much more appealing and automatic to call her that. I saw her kitchen. She used natural formations in her little cave to create a brick stove. She did a lot of the cooking only because I was inept at it. I hadn't lived in a place without a microwave before. She'd tried to make me a kitchen slave, even had an apron I was to wear (and only the apron) but when I started a fire (keep in mind this was a mostly damp kitchen) she decided that part of my curriculum would be to learn how to cook. The other coursed I had to learn were how to bring my mistress to multiple orgasms, how to have sex all night (and she meant from bedtime to dawn), and ass worship. I was a diligent student, but she was a demanding teacher. "Then you'll need to build up an appetite." She giggled kissing me violating my mouth with her tongue. She ground her pussy against my cock getting me hard with hardly any effort. Sitting up she slowly worked my now nine-inch dick into her swollen netherlips. I groaned and grabbed her rump. She squealed. She gave me an Eskimo kiss. Her hands on my shoulders her big bottom smashed down against my thighs as she rode me. I was used to her rough needs. She was rarely very tender with me. She didn't want to be. Oh, she had her little games of romance, but sex was her pleasure, her business. I was not to dawdle when she decided it was time for me to give her what she wanted. Soon she was swearing at me in Spanish to fuck her harder, well, I didn't actually know Spanish, but you get the gist of such things after you've been in someone's bed for a whole day. I felt used, but I liked it. I couldn't help myself at this point. The sound of flesh slapping on flesh filled the cavern that was her bedroom. She pushed my head between her breasts. Soon I was cumming inside her. She also had her first of what would be many orgasms for the afternoon. Her hair was disheveled by this point. "Come on, lover, keep going." She cried. The chair felt back and we laughed as we hit the carpets and pillows around the chair. The memory of a few bumps and scrapes had caused her to put more protection around the places she liked to take me. "Oh, baby." She said still humping me. I began sucking her breasts. She cooed and cradled my head against her large chest. "Cum for mistress." She said milking me more and more. My balls clinched and she screamed pushing my head deeper in the ravine of her cleavage. She chanted cum over and over until I spilled more seed into her. My orgasms were becoming as powerful as Rosetta's. A flood of my hot stick seed filled her and ran down her inner thighs. The orgasm went on for several seconds. "Yes..." She hissed. She pulled herself off my spear, I was still hard. "Oh, you're doing so well, baby." She said lying down over my legs and running her breasts over my thighs as her mouth wrapped around my golf-ball sized testicles. It wasn't just my dick, my balls grew bigger and remarkably dense with more of her nectar. I had asked her why I was changing, and she said it was just what it did. Then she'd spanked me playfully for complaining about becoming one of the best studs she'd ever had. I took the compliment and only began drinking more of her nectar. The stuff was good, so very good. Her hand wrapped around my thicker shaft. She sucked harder and began stroking me off. "You're such a slut for me aren't you?" She teased. She stopped sucking quickly and got on her hands and knees. Pushing two fingers into her sex she pulled out our mixed need and put it in her tight asshole. "Put your fat pecker in my ass, lover-boy." She cooed. I obliged. My hard crown pushed into her tight ass and I began humping her. She was apparently used to taking her slaves in this way. "Harder, baby. I'm not going to break." She fell down to her elbows, resting on her forearms. Eventually, and proudly my fucking pushed her flat against the ground. I was riding her harder than I ever had. "Oh, yes..." she cried. "Don't you dare cum in my ass, boy." She ordered. So when the tightness in balls reared again I pulled out and came on her ass. She purred. She stood like I had only been giving her a massage and not fucking her brains out as hard as I could. "Come on, love." She said curling a finger, "You're going to bathe with me." I followed obediently. She didn't make me crawl or anything, but I still followed her like the obedient slave I was. It was harder and harder to resist her, and I didn't want to, Sometimes I'm surprised I still know what day it was. It was getting hard to remember some things. I followed the sway of her hips and ass wherever she wanted me to go.