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Mermaid

By: intriguess



You find a nice cool lagoon and decide to take a dip into the inviting water. Relaxing from the warm day and gently drifting off and you find yourself thinking of mermaids. Your cock twitching at the erotic thought. You can almost hear her humming. You open your eyes to see that lovely creature brushing her long dark hair upon a rock in the center of the lake. You swim quietly up finding yourself wondering how one makes love to such a creature. You take my brush and start brushing my hair as my body tenses at the scent of a man. Your fingers caress my neck and your lips brush it. Whispering, "I've never meet a mermaid before much less a sexy siren." Your lips playing along my neck you can feel my blood pulsing. I turn slightly towards you and you see my nice full breasts and your hands move to explore this new area. 

I look at you and let your hands travel over my body and whisper, "I've never met a man." Your eyebrows raise and I glance down your body and remember it's different for humans. 

You follow my gaze to your hard cock, "Are mermen built like me?" 

"Well, yes in that way," I reply still taken away by your fingers as they finally reach my hard nipples. I slip off the rock into the water and you join me. 

"Are you?" your hands slip down to my waist. You are surprised to feel my warm flexible scales melt away revealing a gorgeous pussy slightly more forward since no legs separate them. You wonder if you can penetrate as deeply and how mermaids experience pleasure. Your fingers slide down to explore and you kiss my lips. I melt and go limp slightly, "You okay?" you ask concerned. 

"Merpeople don't touch lips," I reply you feel my warm body wrapping around yours massaging your legs my pussy aligned perfectly with your cock. 

"Ooo," you reply feeling my body next to yours and your tip right upon my entrance and I press you in you feel the tight wet warmth surround your cock. As I rock my hips kissing you deeply our bodies seem to melt together as water surrounds us. We rock together and I move faster eager to please you and your face contorts as we climax in one mind numbing wave of pleasure that threatens to drown us both. I unwind myself and pull away my scales reappearing and softly kiss you and swim swiftly away. 

You return to lagoon looking for that exotic creature disappointed when she's not there. Yet, you keep returning until a cool day you're sore from riding and decide you might as well take a dip. Your mind wanders back to the feel of her wrapping around you. 

Your eyes flick open you swore you felt her brushing against you. You turn to look at the rock and see her combing her hair. The humming awakening your body fully you swim towards me and climb up the rock taking the comb and running it through my long hair. Breathing in the salty scent letting the comb fall and your hands slide up my front the soft full breasts pert nipples. Kissing my neck and I melt into your arms. Your hands slide down feeling my body opening to you letting your hands memorize my pussy so soft dry and fresh the clit already swelling and becoming wet. 

I turn towards you and you lean me back upon the rock and lower yourself over me the passion intense your hard cock slipping in to my wet tight pussy. I squirm a bit and your cock moves inside of me. I look up at you and you sink in and our bodies merge the orgasm longer and more intense. You try to stay in me and keep me here but I slip off the rock and disappear into murky water, leaving my comb behind.

Mermaid



The single speck of light that shines through the surface from the outworld to yours, attracting you like a baby to its mother's breast. You know you shouldn't approach, you've been warned since childhood of the dangers of entering the warmer waters that lead to the outworld. Tales of evil creatures lurking above the surface abound, of the affect of the warmer waters on your breathing, and of the changes that can occur in your body if you ever break the surface. Yet there are as many romantic tales of wondrous things in the outworld, beautiful creatures that travel without tails and breathe without gills. Tales of the powers obtained by those who dare to venture beyond the cool currents of the Atlantean waters.

As you ascend toward the hypnotic light, you notice the weakening currents, the warming of the waters, the almost blinding brightness. Your nervousness diminishes as you go higher, a feeling of unfamiliar warmth and well being fills your senses. Higher and higher you go, ignoring the strange new sensations you're feeling, the changes you're encountering. All of them overshadowed by the complete and blissful relaxation that is taking over your body. So strong is the sensation, that you no longer feel the need or desire to swim, simply floating limply towards the surface.

Suddenly you realize that the terrible tales were true, as you feel your body begin to change. Your gills begin to close up, your scales floating away, your tail seeming to melt in the warm water. You struggle to turn back, try to swim away from the treacherous warm waters. You are unable to move now, your body is numb and you cannot fight against the changes occurring in your body. You no longer have gills, your tail replaced by legs, you black out as you feel your lungs begin to fill with water.

You begin to shake uncontrollably and hear a voice screaming at you.

"Wake up! What's wrong with you? You're okay, I'm here with you!"

You slowly open your eyes, trying to focus on the figure above you, Namor, your prince.

"Namor...? Oh no, it's happened again, the same dream."

"Dream, what dream? What sort of dream causes you to scream in your sleep?"

"Just a dream... just a bad dream, it's ok."

You look up at the handsome merman above you, Namor, Prince of Atlantis, son of Neptune, the reason for your dream. Namor, like no other merman, faster, stronger, different. Namor, the result of a union between Neptune and the outworlder woman Lena, now Queen Lena of Atlantis. Lena who fell from an outworlder vessel and would have drowned if not for the Atlantean guards of the outpost at the edge of the Atlantean waters.

They were unsure of the beautiful and strange creature they found sinking toward them. Not sure of what to do with such a strange creature, they placed it in a giant clam and took it to Neptune.

Neptune knew what the creature was, he had encountered them before. Neptune was the only Atalantean to have been to the outworld, allegedly the only one with the power to do so. For he is the only Atlantean who can carry the Mystical Trident of Royalty. Neptune was besotted by the beauty of Lena, a Princess of the outworld. He could not let such beauty die before him and made a decision. A single sweeping pass of the Mystical Trident over the body of Lena, and she became a mermaid, the new Queen of Atlantis.

Although now a mermaid, capable of living beneath the vast oceans and seas, Lena still maintains her outworlder form. A form that is alien, strange to all Atlanteans, all but Neptune that is.

Namor has told you the story of the union between Neptune and Lena, just as he was told by Neptune himself. You never tire of the story, asking Namor to tell you again, time after time. Many Atlanteans didn't like or mistrusted the outworlder Queen. They were very wary of her, even scared of her. Lena was aware of this, and could understand the feelings of her new subjects, uncomfortable with a half outworlder (Humans Neptune called them), half mermaid Queen. She had asked Namor to transform her completely, make her wholly mermaid to appease their subjects. Neptune wouldn't have it, he is the King, the wielder of the all powerful Mystical Royal Trident, his word is law. But Neptune had another reason for refusing her request.

Neptune has blood Royal, trustee of the Mystical Royal Trident, for now and as long as he lives, or until he chooses to pass it on to Namor. Neptune is also the only Atlantean with the power of transformation, the ability to transform his body to be compatible to Lena's. Neptune knows that he is the only Atlantean capable of appreciating the soft curves and contours of Lena's human form, the wonderful sensation of her inner warmth.

Namor tells you that Neptune has said, "Mating in the human form is a most pleasant and invigorating experience. It as an performed with the intent of intense and unimaginable pleasure."

"But isn't mating simply the process used to ensure future generations, even for humans?" you ask Namor.

"Yes it is, but in the human form, it is accompanied by intense feelings of pleasure, culminating in an incredible sensation of release."

"So you've experienced this phenomenon Namor?" you ask with the slightest hint of jealousy.

"No, not yet, the opportunity hasn't presented itself, and I'd like it to be with someone special, not just for an experience."

You wish, you hope, you pray that you could be that someone special, but alas you know it could never be. Unless... unless the stories are true, the stories that nobody dares to explain. They say that if you can safely reach the surface of the outworld, you will transform into human form, possessing powers unimaginable. But they also say that it's impossible to reach the surface, as you shall surely perish in the warm water before you reach the surface. Your dream is to reach the surface, to make the transformation to human form, to share with your handsome Prince Namor, to be the "special" person to share the "special" experience.

"So are you feeling better now?" you suddenly hear Namor say. "I need to go now, as long as you are okay." he continues.

"Huh? What? Going? Where? Sorry Namor, I was daydreaming."

"If you are alright now, I have an outworld mission to execute now, so I have to go."

"An outworld mission? What...no, I'm fine now. Good luck and I'll see you when you get back."

"Thank you, take care now."

You watch him leave, then think quickly. "What should I take? He'll check in with Neptune first, so I can follow him from the Palace. No, I'll need nothing, I'll just get into position."

You swim to a good vantage point near the Palace and wait patiently for Namor to leave. Then you see him leave, fast, you remember racing as children, he always won. Fortunately you were a better tracker, so you were never far behind. Hopefully these skills will be of benefit now you think, as you take off as far behind him as you can without losing him.

You can tell he's heading for the Gallery outpost, the furthermost outpost from Atlantis. You've never been this way or this far before, you hope you can catch him before he checks in there so you can sneak past as he talks to the guards.

You reach the outpost just moments before he finishes with the guards, enabling you to sneak past and hide before anyone notices you. He swims past you, within metres of your hiding spot, heads straight out and ascending towards the warm waters. You can't ascend from your position, you'll be seen in the open.

You stay low, thankful that the current is in your favour, enabling you to keep up with Namor. You remain deeper than Namor, yet still notice the water slowly becoming warmer, which reminds you of the stories and causes you to keep reaching for your gills. Gills are fine, tail is fine, everything is fine and you feel fine, you press on. Could the terrible tales just have been made up to stop people from venturing outside of Atlantean waters? Well it's looking that way now. 

The water becomes brighter, clearer, warmer still, almost hot. You've never swum this shallow before and the land mass is getting higher. It's so bright above the surface of the water and you see Namor who looks like he's almost on top of the water.

You almost swim into some rocks, feeling a little disoriented, you instinctively feel for your gills. NO! OH NO! THEY'RE CLOSING UP, WHAT DO YOU DO??!!

"Cough splutter, choke, reach, GAAAA UHNNNNNG, NAMOR!!"

"Namor? Who the hell is Namor?" You hear someone say.

"He's the SubMariner, Prince of Atlantis, see here, in my comic, here he is..." a child's voice.

"Cough cough, spit, PTAWW! What, where am I? Where's Namor? Who are you?" You can't see properly yet, everything is still blurry. Images becoming clearer, faces, lots of them, one right above you. You focus on the face until it becomes clearer, "Namor!!" you yell in recognition, grabbing his face and kissing him passionately.

"I made it Namor!! I made it!!"

"If it's my day you're talking about lady," he says, "then you're right, cos you've made my day."

You reach for your neck, "My gills, they've gone, I'm, I'm human! It really works, come Namor, let us go somewhere to execute the human mating process!" You sit up, reaching for the man. "Namo..."

You fall back, he catches you before you hit the ground, you hear everything, but you can see nothing.

"Woohoo lifesaver man you're in! Find out what she's on, I need some of that!" a young voice. "My name's Garry, she's delirious" you hear him shout, "Now move, give me space, give her air to breath!" You feel yourself being lifted, then you black out..."Ooooh my head..."

"Miss, Miss, can you hear me Miss, what's her name?"

"Don't know, no id, no nothing, not even any clothes, thanks Julie, I'll take care of her now, you watch the beach for me please."

You recognize the voice, it's Garry, or is it Namor?? You try to remember what's happened in the last few hours, but you're actually a bit confused about who you are yourself, a mermaid? Atlantis? Name? You think back and see images of Atlantis, merpeople, Namor, Neptune, Lana, but never your name used... Before that the beach, the lifeguard, the rocks...

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me? Do you know your name?" You hear the man's voice calling quietly, your name?

"Namor, Namor is that you?" "My name is Garry Miss. I need your name, I dragged you out of the water, you had trouble in the rocks."

"The rocks! My God yes the rocks! I was swimming near the rock pools, I went there after..."

You start to remember. Your girlfriend had told you about this beach down south, the rock pools, the yummy lifeguard she'd "had" there. You'd gone to the same beach, on the prowl, looking for the lifeguard you'd heard so much about.

"After you'd finished teasing me you mean? Down at the beach?" he says.

You can see him clearly now, looking down on you smiling. Bright blue eyes, sun bleached blonde hair and beautiful white teeth. His face is deeply tanned and you look down to his smooth chest and beyond. Mmmmm, a nice tan all over his hard body.

"I didn't like having to ask you to cover up or move along" he says, "But you're not allowed to go topless on this beach, so I had to I'm afraid. I would have much preferred it if you had put that little top back on really."

"I wasn't teasing," you say, "I was trying to send you a message, I didn't put my top back on because I was hoping you'd follow me to where I was taking the rest off."

"Well if it wasn't for the fact that I had just started my watch and there was nobody else here to relieve me, then I would have followed."

You sit up on the bench, allowing the sheet that covered your nakedness to drop to the floor. "Well, are you on watch now?" you say.

"Not now" he says smiling, "Like to take a walk?"

"I'd like to take more than a walk..." you say as you reach for his hands and pull him to you.

He steps close, between your legs, your hands slide up his arms as he leans forward to kiss you. His hands softly glide along your thighs and up to your waist, reaching behind you and pulling you together. You kiss deeply, passionately, your pussy pushed against his hard stomach. His stomach is like steel, you feel your pussy moisten with anticipation, sliding on his abs. You hold his face, pushing your tongue as far into his mouth as you can, as his own pushes into yours. He kisses so well, and you're no longer moist, you're just plain wet! You run your fingers through his long hair and grip behind his head, he pulls away.

"We'd better go for that walk now, it's getting too hot in here and someone could come in." he says, looking very hot and flustered.

"Mmmmm, I couldn't care less" you say "but okay, let's go quick!"

"Here" he says "get some clothes from the lost property box. I have to go tell them I'm leaving."

Most of the clothes are small, kids clothes, you find a top that just fits you, only just covering your breasts. Then a small sarong that comes just below your butt. "Not much cover" you think, "but adequate for what I have in mind."

"You ready?" he says poking his head through the open door. "WOAH!, um, couldn't find anything smaller eh?"

"Actually I could" you say "but it wouldn't fit me."

"Come on then, I have the rest of the day off" he says as he smiles to show you those beautiful white teeth again.

"Just kiss me again though" you say with a cheeky inviting smile, "Just to keep me going until we get there."

He enters the room and shuts the door behind him, locking it as he does. He effortlessly picks you up under the armpits and leans you against the wall. Your legs automatically wrap around his waist and you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Oh my God!" you think, "this guy could make me cum just by kissing me!"

He pushes hard against you, and you can feel his hardness pushing into your pussy through his bathers, so hot! You shift your hips, positioning your pussy over the hard lump. You're so wet, and you feel your lips parting around his bulge, enabling you to rock up and down to stimulate your throbbing clit. He rocks with you and you can feel an orgasm building already. You start to tremble, "Oh God yes..." you gasp as you hold his head in your hands again, pushing your fingers through his long hair. Suddenly he stops again, lowering you to the floor and pulling away. "Well I think that'll keep you warm for our walk."

You look at him quizzically, "Garry? I didn't hurt you did I?" You reach up to his neck to feel his head again, but he pulls away again saying,

"No, I just don't want to get caught or I could lose my job."

"Well each time I've touched the back of your neck and head, I've felt some scarring or something. Did I touch an old wound or something?"

"No, um, yes, well there's a sensitive area there that I've had since birth. I don't like anything touching it."

"Oh, you should have just told me silly, I won't touch it again then."

He looks relieved, "Thanks, I appreciate that. Well come on then, let's walk."

"Okay" you say brightly, "Let's go!"

"Here, wrap this blanket around you & walk slowly. I've told them you're still shaky and that I'm going to give you a lift to the hospital. My car's up near the rock pools, so it'll be okay to walk that way."

He puts the blanket around your shoulders and you walk slowly to the beach and on to the rock pools. Seeing that you're out of sight, you hand him the blanket and slip into the first pool.

"Mmmmmm, it's beautiful," you say, "It's warm. Hey where are you going?" you say as you watch him climb over some rocks.

"Swim around here, you'll see." Swimming around the rocks, you find him on a small beach between some large rocks and out of anybody's sight.

"You're a clever man," you say, "you know this place well I see."

"Yes, I come here to relax." he says as he lays the blanket out on the sand. He lies back on the blanket, resting on his elbows and says, "Now what were we talking about before?"

"Well I don't recall much of what was said," you say, "but I do recall the way you were kissing me and hoping that you could fuck me half as well."

He seems shocked, almost reeling back at your words. You like the reaction and watch the expression on his face change from shock to desire as you step out of the rock pool. The little sarong still covering you, but totally see through, so the outline of your neatly trimmed pussy is clearly visible and clinging. The little top has ridden up slightly to show your deep pink and hard nipples peeking below the hem. You're pleased with the look.

"Um, ah, you're beautiful like that, so sexy too..., I hope I can live up to your expectations."

You stand above him, one foot either side of his hips and looking down. You know he can see under the sarong that barely covers you and his eyes are stuck looking up at your pussy as the salt water drips from it. Slowly you lower yourself down to sit on his hard stomach, bending your knees to squat, you know that he can see your pussy opening up as you lower yourself to sit on him. You slowly slide up and down his washboard stomach, feeling the ripples of his abs as the combination of salt water, his sweat and your own wetness lubricate your track.

"Mmmmm, I'm sure you will." you say as you slide further down his stomach until you rest on the hard bulge in his bathers, gently rocking back and forth. "But please kiss me like you did before." You lean forward and lie on him to kiss. Your pussy hard against his hard bulge, your nipples rubbing together as he kisses you once again like nothing you've known before.

Your kiss is even more intense than earlier, combined with your bodies pressed together, melding as one. You feel his hardness slide back and forth against your pussy, as his hips thrust up and down. It takes but a few moments before you feel yourself begin to tense, trembling as you break lip contact saying, "Oh yes, oh my, please don't stop this time, please let me, oooooooh..."

A wave of pure pleasure sweeps through you, your body seems to ebb, vibrate with the euphoric sensations. "Oh baby," you growl in his ear, "I want you inside me so bad." you say as you reach down and try to push his bathers to one side. He reaches down as well, removing your hands and simply pulling the front of his bathes to one side. You can feel the heat emanating from his prick before it even touches you. You gasp as you feel the tip push between your wet lips, noticing immediately that he feels like no other. You push against him, marveling at the sensation of this mans prick that almost feels pointed, rather than bulbous at the end.

He kisses you once again as you feel his hips push up into you and his long hot prick slides inside you. You start to rock back onto him, but he holds you close to stop you and continues to kiss you with incredible passion. You are about to protest, but it seems like his kiss makes you feel faint and light headed, so you push down on him as hard as you can and relish in his kisses of pure pleasure. 

All your senses seem to intensify dramatically, your whole body tingling as an incredible sensation develops. You can almost see it in your mind as you feel his prick grow more, the tip seeming to open, allowing it to grow further. Then it would retract, then extend, over and over, an incredible curve that seemed to move to every spot deep inside you. You break from his incredible kiss and sit up, causing him to be pushed deeper still.

The tip seems to have a mind of it's own, moving up and down, all around, and you think you're somehow hallucinating. You don't even have to move, it's doing all the work, moving, finding, finding, find... "OHHH YESSS!!!!" you scream as your whole body begins to quiver, trembling, spasming, "OHH GOD!!" your eyes are wide open in disbelief as this magical cock goes about its work inside you.




Mermaid



You look down on this man who is causing these incredible sensations for you and find him smiling, watching you.

"How, do you, do nnngh, do this, you are amazing?" You have trouble speaking, but you get the words out.

"It is as much you as it is me." he says, "the mind is an extremely powerful thing you know, your largest erogenous zone." 

You've settled into a slow rocking rhythm now, the slightest movements generating a wonderful sense of contentment. While the sensations continue to take you to a level of arousal you've never known before, in both mind and body.

"I know you've wanted this for some time now, but you see you don't have to leave to experience it do you...?"

"Oh Namor," you say, "it is so wonderful, I've wanted this for so long." You're startled by your own words. "NAMOR!?!?!"

So now you've experienced it my pretty little mermaid. Are you ready to return to discover your true powers?"

Your eyes are shut tight, as your body once more experiences the most incredible sensations and an overpowering sense of oneness with the universe floods your being. You open your eyes again and find yourself in Namor's palatial room of sanctuary. Namor there with you, holding your hands.

"What? How? My gills, my tail, but I thought..."

You thought you'd reached a new level of being, and you did. It wasn't the way you thought or hoped it would be, it's better."

"But it was so real Namor, so intense..."

"Such is the power of the Tantra my precious little mermaid. Your love for me, your willingness to risk all to achieve a higher level of existence that you felt I was on. It all came to the fore when you entered the dangerous waters that almost cost you your life. We have reached a spiritual level together we can share as one. A oneness that surpasses all physical pleasures to achieve a greater satisfaction. I am you, you are me."

"I wanted so much to be like you Namor, to be part of you and as one with you. I felt I could never do this with us being different, but I dreamed of enjoying the human pleasures of the flesh that I could never experience as a mermaid, Now you have shown me the way of Tantra. Shown me that the greatest pleasure, the ultimate orgasm, comes from the power of my mind."



Mermaid Hybrid Ch. 03



Thomas watched out the window of his tiny cottage. Becoming a father so unexpectedly had changed him in ways he couldn't have anticipated at the tender age of twenty-five. Of course there had been the whispers that spread through the village. Aquaville was a small place and the people had equally small minds. In those first days he had been glad for the distance that separated their home from the rest of them, but he had been on his own and with no idea how to handle the delicate bundle that had been thrust upon him it wasn't long before he had headed into the town in desperate need of help.

His own parents had died only two years before and his sister had long since moved on to better pastures. Everyone he tried to talk to turned him away. He was an unmarried man with an illegitimate child and he had long since been obsessed with the sea. He was different and any sort of difference was bad, at least to them. At the end of a long night, he had only managed to scrounge together a few meagre supplies from the few people who would still trade with him.

He remembered how it felt, sitting under a tree in a damp drizzle of rain with Amelia clutched to his chest. He had felt so alone, so horribly overwhelmed. It had been the first and last time he considered just going back to the sea and pitching them both overboard.

"Thom?" A silken voice asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

He smiled, turning towards the beacon of light that had snapped him out of that bleak place. Jessica had found him under that tree. She had never been someone he noticed all that much, quiet, shy, soft-spoken. Under that tree she proved that she was also something else. Kind. She took his hand and leaned into him, never saying a word as she freed one of Amelia's arms from the thick blanket and stroked her tender skin, quieting the fussing sounds she had been making.

"She's alright you know." Jessica said now, wrapping her arms around his waist. "No-one knows the coast like she does."

Thom nodded and melted into her touch. "I know." He sighed. "I just wish I knew what was happening to her."

"She's growing up. Give her some space, when she's ready she will come back and tell you everything." Jessica planted a kiss on his cheek and turned back to the fire and the pot that was simmering over it. Thomas shook his head at the out-dated method of cooking, but he didn't argue. It might have seemed like a lot of unnecessary work, but the meals were always delicious.

Jessica had been a god-send. She had collected together everything a growing baby needed to thrive; muttering under her breath the entire time. When he had finally gotten close enough to hear her rant over "the gall of people who go around fucking left and right to turn away from a baby who needed help" and how she "hoped they choked on their jumped-up, self-righteous hypocrisy" he couldn't help but laugh, the first sound of merriment he had uttered in close to six months.

When she came to live with him, he didn't question it. He was just so grateful for her help. And when the relationship became romantic it just seemed natural. Over the days and years she helped him raise his daughter and chased away the echoes of a foggy night out at sea. Slowly he began to forget the obsession that had dragged him day after day out onto the sea and for the first time in his life, his fishing trips seemed more like work than an escape.

She refused to marry him, not for lack of trying. His eyes slid over her body, bent over the cooking pot, and came to rest on the slight swell of her belly. Their child was still months away from arriving, but he couldn't wait. He missed the early days, spent around the fire and cheering on Amelia's first tentative steps. Things had been so simple then. Everything that happened to Amelia happened to all of them, they were all essential to each other, one whole. Now though...

When had she started lying to him? When had his little girl started sneaking off with boys from the village? Didn't she know that they were the same people that talked about them all behind their backs? The same people who would have left her to die as a baby? He shook his head, watching her slowly make her way up the cliff-side. He had seen her on the beach with, who was it? Robert? Roger? He watched her as she swam to the very rock that he had forbidden her to go to and, squinting, he had watched her tiny figure disappear into the hidden cavern.

Oh, he knew about it. He knew about what would happen to her in there. He knew that she was walking into a ritual that had been handed down from one generation to another for centuries. Mermaids giving their daughters to their King as soon as they came of age. It drove him mad knowing that he couldn't stop it, that this ritual existed.

A pang of guilt washed over him as he remembered the day he found out about the ritual. Her mother had found him, dragging him into the water and glancing around like she was afraid of being caught. She had kissed him, her voice ringing in his mind. She told him about her people, about that night. She was scared. Amelia shouldn't have existed and she didn't know what would happen next. She had told him that her kind went through a change when they came of age. Either their King would accept them and they would come into their full heritage, developing a power, or they would be rejected and slowly begin to descend into madness.

In his fear, Thomas had forbidden Amelia to go there and now he just wished he had been the one to go with her. She seemed sluggish as she wove her way back and he stopped himself from racing out to meet her. Jessica started humming softly, and he forced himself to go to her.

Amelia fell through the door and collapsed in a pile on the floor. Thomas and Jessica shared a look before lunging for her, rolling her onto her back. Jessica cradled her head in her hands as they watched her gasp for breath. "What do we do?" He asked desperately.

"Pick her up." Jessica ordered, scrambling out of the way. "Get her to her room, on the bed, now!" She walked over to the fireplace, running her hands over the brickwork above the hearth. Glancing behind her, she saw that Thomas was fully absorbed in his task. She pried at the loose brick that she had carved out herself one sunny afternoon when no-one was around and fished out the small black bag she had stashed in the hollow of bricks' underside.

Replacing the brick, she rushed to the others, unrolling the thick material as she ran. One of the glass vials nearly dropped in her haste, but she caught it before it could shatter on the stone floor.

"Out of the way." She ordered, squeezing Thomas into the corner of the room as she knelt by Amelia's bed.

Holding up the vial of deep red liquid, Jessica grabbed up a glass syringe, measuring out half the vial and sucking the liquid up through the needle. Thomas watched, panic shooting through his body. He didn't know what she was up to but he wasn't about to question the woman he loved.

Jessica stabbed the needle into Amelia's shoulder, wincing in sympathy at the rough treatment. Amelia started to breathe easier. "It won't last more than a day or two." She looked over at Thomas and smiled weakly. "You must have questions."

"Yes." He replied. "But first." He swept her off her feet and bundled her into their own room. He didn't know what was happening, how Jessica knew to do what she did or what it was that she injected into their daughter, all he knew was that he was vibrating with energy and he needed to connect with someone.

Jessica looked confused for a few minutes, obviously still expecting him to demand to know what it was she had done. Instead she stood still while he slowly stripped her of her clothes. First her top, revealing her swollen breasts. He latched on to a nipple, eliciting a breathy moan. His hands moved lower, brushing lovingly over the swell of her abdomen and then lower still, stripping her pants and underwear in one well-practiced go. Jessica stopped waiting for the yelling to begin and started returning his attentions. She pressed herself into his chest, arms going around his neck. She nuzzled into his neck, loving the clean scent of him. She pressed a kiss to his neck as his hands grabbed the backs of her thighs, hauling her up against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and found his lips with her own. They panted against each other, tongues duelling.

Thomas walked them to the bed, laying her down gently and stripping off his clothes before straddling her body. She was flushed, staring up at him with her orange hair spread out on the bed. He took a moment to study her, memorising the features that he had learned to love with everything he had in him. Her delicate bone structure, her upturned nose, her amber eyes. They were something he could never forget, everything about her was branded into his soul and he knew that his life would be next to nothing without her in it. She stared back with such love that he couldn't stay apart from her any longer.

Thomas dipped his head back down to her, revelling in the taste that was wholly her own. He nudged her thighs apart with his legs and nestled himself in the cradle of her body. He could feel her dampness coating his cock. He pressed the head of his shaft against her opening, thrusting lightly. He moved a hand down her body, finding her sensitive clit and rubbing it in just the way that she liked. As she moaned, he thrust forwards, burying himself in her heat. He let out a moan of his own and started moving, the friction driving him wild. He brushed against that spot inside her and she bucked, her pregnant belly grinding into his. He eased off a little, kissing his way down her belly.

Thomas pulled out of her, flipping her over and kissing her back as she found her way onto all fours. He found her sweet pussy again, thrusting forwards. She was tighter in this position and they both moaned at the sensation. A few more thrusts and some practised manipulations of her clit and she went off, her passage contracting around him, milking him. He gritted his teeth and slowed his movements, determined to get her to come again before he lost himself in her. He kept a hand at her clit and one on a breast, rubbing her furiously as he started to speed up again. He could feel tension coiling through the two of them, connecting them in a way that went beyond the purely physical sensations of pleasure. This was what he needed, what he always needed when upheaval hit their lives. He couldn't explain it, but he was sure this was what it meant to be in love. To be connected with someone soul to soul and heart to heart.

They came together, crashing into mindless pleasure. Thomas rolled them to their sides, still connected with her as their sweat stuck them together. Jessica stretched and rolled to face him, breaking their connection. "As much as I love our bedtime exploits, I think dinner might be burning."

She placed a kiss on his jaw and rolled out of bed, gathering up her clothes an slipping into them as she made her way back out into the living room. It wasn't quite burned, but it was still more overdone than she would have liked. Sighing, she took the pot off the fire and hauled it over to the small kitchen counter. Thomas followed her movements sluggishly and Jessica waited for the questions to start. Sure enough, she wasn't disappointed.

"What do you know about her that I don't?" Thomas asked, surprising her. She had expected a vaguer question like, "what was that liquid?" or "what's happening?"

"My sister was different." Jessica said slowly, trying to figure out what to say in her own mind so she didn't completely mess up her one chance to explain. "My mother kept my father's indiscretion quiet, pretending that she had been pregnant and simply hadn't known. No-one really questioned her.

"Then one day my sister vanished for a night, when she got back, she was sick. We didn't know what was happening to her. My father sat by her bed for three hours before getting desperate. He ran to the sea and we didn't see him again for two days. When he returned he was exhausted, but he had this." Jessica held up the half-empty vial of liquid. "It's not a cure, but it helps to ease the process."

"What happened to her?" He asked, leaning against the wall.

"I don't know." Jessica replied. "She seemed to be getting better and then one night she was just gone."

Thomas walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her close as her tears soaked into his shirt. "Thankyou." He said.

That was it, no incriminations, no accusations, no bruised and hurt ego. He just responded to her pain with love, certain that she would have told him with time.

Together they checked on Amelia, who was sleeping soundly. Her skin was glowing in the growing darkness and her fingers twitched as she dreamed. Whatever was coming, they would face it together, no matter what, or who, they would have to deal with.



Mermaid Hybrid Ch. 04



There are some things that people just can never imagine. Amelia, for example, never imagined that sweet little Roger would have the balls to go to someone in the seemingly sleepy little town of Aquaville with what he had seen in the cave. She also never imagined that she would find herself connected telepathically with every single mermaid that ever lived, that such a thing was possible, let alone possible without driving her completely insane. She also never imagined that a statue, even one that gave her the fuck of her life, could actually be a living being. One that was waking from a long, cursed slumber.

Of all the things that people toss about in their minds, the possibilities that touch their waking thoughts, nothing like what was about to happen had ever so much as registered as a blip on the radar. An old god was waking up, and the entire world was going to be rocked by the devastation to follow.

Of course that was all still to come. For now, Amelia was struggling in her sleep, her mind slipping into someone else's thoughts over and over again. Thomas and Jessica watched her closely, taking turns to sit by her bed and occasionally helping each other to relieve the tension of worry that settled over their shoulders. A storm was brewing inside their little cottage and they knew something had to give soon, something had to break and the rain was going to pour down, only they didn't know what form the rain would take, and the waiting was the worst part.

Amelia gasped, her eyes opening and her body jerking upright. Her mind was spinning and the room spun with it. Thoughts crashed into her mind with the force of boulders, making her whimper and curl up tightly, trying to fend off the insistent pressure. Just as she thought she would be crushed under the weight of all that noise, a new voice joined the fray. This voice was steady and slow and cool, dimming out the sound of the others and centring her. It seemed familiar and as she focused on it, she could see her statue starting to take shape in her mind. She couldn't describe what happened next, even if she tried to. The voice taught her how to control the other voices, how to keep them all in her mind and slip into a one at a time. This control was given to her in an instant, but it felt like a lifetime wrapped up in his cool embrace.

Her breathing slowed, her body relaxed and she was finally able to take in her surroundings. She was clean, dressed in a soft nightgown and sitting on top of her narrow bed, her parents standing over her with worry etched into their faces. Normally she might have felt guilty, started babbling the entire story and begging for forgiveness. She hated them being upset with her, but a calm still had hold of her. She felt confident, new, and it was a powerful feeling.

"I'm alright." She told them, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and standing, marvelling in the new strength she could feel flowing through her veins.

"What happened?" Jessica asked, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "We were so worried."

Amelia looked carefully at her father. He hadn't kept her origins a secret from her, but he was never comfortable about talking about it in the open. When he just stood in place, staring at her with a mixture of relief and apprehension, Amelia took it as her cue to take charge.

"It's weird, I feel different. But it's good. There's something I need to do." She went for the door, stopping again when she felt the nightgown rub against her newly-sensitive skin. It felt wrong and uncomfortable. Without a second thought, she stripped it off and strode for the door, naked as the day she was born.

Thomas glanced at Jessica before scooping up the abandoned clothes and rushing after his daughter. He didn't know what to expect, but he had a feeling of where she was going. Sure enough she was headed back down to the beach, her lithe golden form disappearing beyond the cliff. Before he could go after her, a harsh yell echoed through the air. Dread churned in his guts and Thomas turned to face the crowd of people charging up the hill.

"Pastor Devinn." He said in greeting to the man leading the flock.

The older man sneered and upped his pace, stopping just feet away from where Thomas stood protectively in front of Jessica.

"It's more than enough that you fathered a bastard child and continue to live in sin with your harlot." He spat, face taking on a decidedly red hue. "But now your devil's spawn has corrupted the mind of one of our upstanding youngsters. Where is she? She will answer to these accusations in person!"

Thomas was caught between laughing at the absurdity of the situation and wanting very badly to punch the Pastor straight in his bigoted face. When all he managed to do was choke slightly and twitch his arm, Jessica took over, removing herself from the questionable safety of Thomas's body and getting right up into the face of the man currently shaking with rage.

"What are you, stuck in the middle ages? What gives you the right to come up here and judge us? If someone has a problem with our Amelia, they can talk directly to us. You can all leave now." Jessica topped the forceful words with an exaggerated shooing motion.

Of course that was never going to placate the people of Aquaville. It wasn't so much Roger's rather outrageous claims of being led out to a sea-cave and forced to watch a statue have its way with Amelia that had them riled up. They had never liked things changing, and from the second Thomas had started pining away over the ocean things had been changing. It was, to them, like a pressure that had been building and they just wanted it to stop, no matter what they had to do to make it end. This last story just tipped them over the edge.

While Thomas and Jessica were holed up with a hysterical crowd, Amelia was plunging into the chilly ocean, feeling the water caress her as she made her way over to the cave. She barely stopped to think about what she was doing, or why she was doing it. She knew from the many thoughts she had access to that no-one ever went back to the cave after their initiation. It was taboo, wrong, unnatural. An instinct like the one that took them there in the first place kept them away, but it wasn't keeping her away.  

She swam like she had never swum before, her body strengthened, senses heightened. She always had a good set of lungs, but she had been born breathing as a human, now she found that her body had adjusted so that she could breathe underwater. Nearly-invisible gill slits had formed on her neck and she revelled in the strange way of breathing, sucking water through her nose and mouth and expelling it through her gills as sweet, salty air filled her lungs. She could feel a tingle in her legs that promised at something more, but she didn't stop to question the feeling. There would be time to figure out the full range of her new abilities later.

Scrambling up onto the rock, she barely paused as she sliced her finger on the sharp, loose rock and practically ran down the steep tunnel. When she reached the cavern, she didn't stop to marvel at the soft green light swirling throughout the room, she just kept going until she was standing in the pool of liquid at the base of the statue, her naked flesh pressed against the hard stone.

For a moment she didn't know what to do next, but then almost of its own accord, her cut finger stroked down his skin, leaving a shimmering trail of gold in its wake. A shudder worked through the stone from that point, the material rippling and glowing. Her hand caressed the statue as the stone turned into flesh before her eyes. Living, warm, golden flesh that she couldn't get enough of.

The change was complete within a few minutes and the statue-turned merman gasped in a long, greedy gulp of air. His eyes lost their glassy sheen and he focused on her, a look of incredulity and joy spreading over him as he grabbed her up into his arms and kissed her breathless.

"It's you." He whispered over and over again between frantic kisses. "You found me."

Amelia moaned into his arms, her nipples puckering and her sex flooding with juices. She needed to be with this man, he was an obsession that she had to indulge in. Sensing her arousal, he quickly joined the party, his now-living cock swelling against her belly. He moved them backwards, cradling her in his arms as he slowly lowered her to the stone floor.

Amelia distantly noted that his long, magnificent tail had turned into a pair of well-muscled legs and that even his trident - now discarded on the floor - had changed from stone into some sort of glittering metal. Any other ability to think quickly vacated her as she felt his weight settle over her, scorching her with his heat.

She panted and writhed beneath him, needing to feel him inside her. He seemed as desperate as she did, centuries of being trapped in stone making him wild and needy. There was little delicacy to him when he found her wet heat and thrust into her, seating himself fully within her sopping sheathe. They both cried out at the sensation and began to move harshly, quickly working up to a shattering climax that had them both screaming with pleasure. Warmth filled her belly and she gasped at the sensation, a thrill working through her as she accepted his seed.

He rolled off her, bringing her with him as he lay, panting, on his back, staring up at her with the sort of adoration that only someone deeply in love could muster. He was still hard and nestled in her body. Amelia could feel her body readying for another round, her pussy still clenching around his cock. She began to rock slowly, sitting up on his body and raising and lowering her hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. They kept eye contact as their passion started to swell between them once again. This time they were both determined to make it last.

He stayed as still as he possibly could while she worked him over, the friction making them both pant and gasp. Her orgasm started building as a sharp, sweet pain in her abdomen. Seeing her get close, he couldn't help but speed up the process, his hands stroking over her breasts and down to where they were connected. The sight of him disappearing into her body sent a jolt of pure pleasure through him. He found her clit with his fingers, deftly manipulating it until she screamed atop him, milking his cock deliciously.

He growled in satisfaction and moved them again, placing her on her hands and knees in front of him. He found his way inside her effortlessly and started plunging harder, faster, his own orgasm not far away. There was an urgency in the air that went beyond them. They reacted to it, slow and lasting thrown out the window as he ground his hips tighter into her body. She could feel the damp, salty air pressing down on them and bucked back, taking him as deep as she could as they both reached for orgasm. Together they came, his seed jetting deep in her body as their pleasure rang through the chamber.

After a short break they both got to their feet. He grabbed his trident and offered her his hand. After so long without a mate, he was never going to let his beautiful hybrid go. Amelia took it with a smile and followed him up the passage and back out onto the rock. What she saw there made her gasp for a different reason. The water was filled with colour. Golden bodies and tails every colour under the sun greeted them as they stood over their people. Mermaids from all over the world had felt the ripples of her initiation and had flocked to see their King reborn.

A heavy silence descended on the bay as the assembled masses gazed upon their ruler and he looked back upon them, his new Queen nestled into his body. They were connected through more than the simple words that humans relied upon so much. Within their minds there was a cacophony of greetings. Each mer-person touched the mind of their ruler and was touched in return, a bond of fealty sworn.

From above, the entire population of Aquaville watched in stunned horror as their coast was filled with colour and silence. True change had arrived and not a single one of them knew what to do about it. Thomas and Jessica watched the people of Aquaville as each one seemed to decide to simply leave, forgetting their anger in favour of denial. Dread settled on their shoulders as they turned back to watch their daughter in the arms of a stranger.



Mermaid Hybrid: Initiation



Amelia giggled as she swam through the water, arms and legs thrusting powerfully against the gentle swell of the ocean. Roger was a ways behind her and panting, struggling to keep up. It was her fault really; he might have had half a chance if she hadn't sucked him off before daring him to a race, but really, that huge erection would have slowed him down anyway.

Reaching the rock at the end of their proposed race, she hauled herself onto the flat, salty ledge and stretched herself out on her belly, watching Roger flail closer. She caught his eye and let out a huge, exaggerated yawn. It spurred him on faster and he almost drowned with all the water he was splashing towards his gasping mouth. If she hadn't known better Amelia would have sworn he couldn't possibly be the son of a fisherman, but the sad truth was he was just a terrible swimmer.

When he finally managed to catch up with her, she scrambled back in the ledge to give him some room. There was a shallow cave imbedded in the large spur and she flipped her long, black hair over her shoulder, hips swaying as she slowly stalked towards it. Roger's gasping cut out behind her and she grinned, knowing his eyes were undoubtedly glued to her wet behind.

The cave looked shallow, but something about it still tugged at her. Her father had made her promise not to go off by herself and look at it, and like the perfect daughter she was, she had obeyed. She hadn't gone alone.

Roger scrambled to his feet behind her, panting and coughing, but she ignored him. Her attention was wholly focused on the pearly skin of the cave walls. She had never seen the cave up close and her breath caught in her throat as she watched the reflected light swirl over the smooth skin of mother-of-pearl. Running a hand over the cold rock she almost thought she could feel something thrumming away under the surface, like a pulse racing with excitement.

Roger's arms went around her and she fought not to shrug him off in annoyance. He was breaking the atmosphere and she very much wanted to be on her own. "That little, uh, favour you did for me back on the beach..." He started.

She sighed, knowing where this was going. "I won't be making a habit of it, believe me."

"No! I wasn't! I mean..." She could almost feel him blushing. His arms stayed firmly around her waist and if felt like his member was recovering from its' dip in the ocean.

Jerking out of his arms, she continued to explore the small space, running her fingers over every crack and crevice. At one point she paused, feeling something wriggle under her fingers. The wall here felt different, looser. Frowning, she pressed against the loose sliver of stone and bit back a yelp as a sharp edge sliced into her flesh. Roger was at her side quickly, determined to be the perfect gentleman. Amelia snatched her hand away quickly, swearing when he still managed a grab for it.

"What the...?" He turned her fingers over in his hand, watching the golden droplets of blood slide down her fingers. She snatched her hand away, glaring at the boy. Before she could chew him out for gawking, a low rumble started up in the stone and a hole appeared in the back of the cave. Not one to miss an opportunity to explore, Amelia promptly stepped into it and let Roger do or think whatever he might.

The gap led to a passage, which started to wind its way tightly downwards. A few rocks skidded under her bare feet, but she managed to keep her balance as she descended into the darkness.

"Amelia!" Roger yelped, his voice echoing from above. "Where are you? I can't see you!"

Rolling her eyes, Amelia pulled a small glow-stick out of her pocket and tossed it back up the path. The darkness didn't bother her at all; in fact her skin had started to give off a faint golden glow. A gift from her mother, a woman she had never had the chance to meet.

The ground suddenly levelled out and she could hear the movement of the ocean all around her. The cavern she was in seemed flimsy compared to the feeling of endless, ancient movement. She was in a bubble of stone and had no doubt that someday the entire place would be flooded. The thought of tonnes of water crashing down on her gave her a thrill and she found the smooth, pearly stone with her hand once more. That same feeling, like something was alive beneath the stone, was still there and she could feel her breasts beginning to tingle at the promise that life held.

A few pebbles bounced off her ankles and she scowled back up the pathway. She was really starting to regret letting Roger tag along. Sure he had a decent-looking cock and he was easy to manipulate, but he was starting to get tiring.

She looked around the room, the entire cavern a mass of slowly pulsing light from her perspective. She seemed to see things in waves when she was in the dark. The area around her vibrated with pulses of low blue light. She had no idea that she was doing it, but Amelia was emitting inaudible pulses of sound and interpreting the sounds reflected back at her as objects; her own in-built sonar detector. Of course, her softly glowing skin didn't hurt anything either.

The cavern was mostly empty except for a pool of liquid in the middle of the floor. Rising from that pool was a statue of what looked to be an ancient sea god. He was magnificent, his large stone body was thrusting up from the water and as Amelia got closer she could see a thin sheen of moisture beading over the entire figure. In one hand he held a three-pronged trident and the other gestured to her in invitation. His bare torso tapered into a long, smooth tail that dipped below the water and rose back out into a magnificent, flowing fin. A surge of wetness between her thighs took her by surprise. She had never been so turned on by anyone or anything in her short life. Even Roger, with his prize-winning shaft, couldn't stir her belly like this statue could. 

"Amelia?" Roger panted.

She could have screamed. Her entire being told her that he shouldn't be there, that no-one but her should have stepped foot in that sacred place and now he was blundering all over the place. Gritting her teeth, she did her best to ignore him and acted on instinct, stripping out of her clingy clothes and placing a foot into the pool of liquid.

It was thicker than sea-water and it caressed her bare legs as she sunk up to her thighs. The liquid sloshed as she waded towards the statue. She could have sworn the god wore a smile on his lips as she reached a hand out to grasp his. By now her nipples felt like they were on fire, begging to be touched. Her juice was just about dripping down her thighs and she was squeezing her legs together to ease some of the tension. As she touched the statue, it seemed to come to life. A bright light spread across the stone, illuminating the chamber in all its pearlescent glory.

Amelia gasped as the hand she was gripping closed around hers. The other dropped the trident into the water and wrapped around her back. The statue picked her up and her body slid across the smooth, glowing marble. Every bump and groove sent ripples of delight through her body. Distantly she remembered that they had an audience, but it was a faint concern. Even if Roger wanted to do anything about it, there was no way he could get to her. Surrendering to the feeling of the warming stone beneath her fingers, Amelia groaned and rubbed her hands across the statue's chest.

It seemed to shudder and she could feel something start to move beneath her belly. The god pulled her slightly away from him as an erection started to form and when he pulled her back, the stone tip prodded at her entrance. Swallowing nervously, she looked down to see a stone protrusion bigger than anything she had ever seen on a living male. She had to admit that there weren't all that many *cough* phalluses that she had seen, but this outstripped them all. Instead of growing concerned by this turn of events, her pussy fired up even hotter and she almost melted in the now-hot arms of her sea god.

Looking up into golden eyes, she saw that smile still pasted to his lips. Moaning, she felt the head push into her virgin pussy. It was big, a stretch, but she was so wet that it went in easily. By this point she had completely forgotten that she had ever come here with someone else and Roger was watching with rapt attention. He had no idea what was going on and had started to suspect that he had very possibly smacked his head up against the stone they had been racing to and was now in the process of drowning horribly. Still, he couldn't help but watch as the statue slid another inch of his enormous cock into Amelia's pussy. She moaned and Roger moaned with her, his hand darting to his erect cock and starting to stroke.

Amelia panted roughly as the statue fed her inch after inch of his cock. She felt him push up against the back of her pussy as he seated himself fully in her. The feeling of being stretched around the long, thick cock was exquisite. She could barely contain herself as she started wriggling and writhing against the stone. For a moment she was afraid that the statue had turned stationary again, it was so still, but as her movements became more frantic the statue started slowly thrusting in and out of her wet heat.

Her moans became shorter and sharper as the statue sped up, ramming into her hard enough to leave bruises. Anticipation coiled tightly within her stomach until the tension finally released. She came hard, her pussy drenching the stone cock as she shuddered and screeched. The statue didn't stop, thrusting faster. A stone hand brushed down her stomach and found her clit, stroking it softly and then harder as she built up to another earth-shattering climax. Sobbing, she came again, muscles clamping down hard on the stone phallus.

Roger was nearly chafing his cock, he was rubbing that hard. His balls were drawing up tight and he finally moaned as his throbbing member spurted semen all over his belly. Draining himself dry, he collapsed onto his back, watching Amelia getting fucked hard. Her screams built and ebbed like the tide and there was a captivating beauty to the tears rolling down her sharp cheekbones.

The statue sped up to an inhuman pace and Amelia's brain plummeted into a never-ending chasm of pleasure as climax after climax rolled through her body. Unable to move, she lay back against the thick, stone arm supporting her and whimpered as the statue finally paused. It thrust deep into her body and held her close. She was unable to move as its hips jerked tightly and a liquid poured into her pussy, filling her womb. The statue continued to release its' cum into her body, slightly swelling her belly. Finally it stopped, seemingly sated and slowly released her back into the pool it was rising from, the liquid tainted with their mingled juices.

Amelia couldn't move, but she could feel something happening to her. Whatever the statue had pumped into her was invading her blood, spreading through her system. She groaned as another, even stronger climax clawed at her body, causing her to spasm in the pool. Minutes or days passed, she couldn't be sure, before she was able to move of her own volition.

Heaving her shaking body out of the pool, she turned to find Roger sitting in a pool of his own cum, watching her with tired lust. Too tired to bother with him, she found her clothes and started the long journey back to her small cottage on the cliff, unaware of what she had set into motion with her fun little exploration.



Mermaid Hybrid: The Beginning



On a dark, foggy night a fisherman woke with a jolt. He wasn't supposed to be out on the water, but in a rather uncharacteristic turn, he had fallen asleep as his boat gently dragged two small nets behind it. As he frantically started to drag his nets into the small vessel he couldn't know the enormity of what was to happen to him, for that particular foggy night was a very special one indeed.

The water around him lit up with a spectacular display of colour, the fog doing little to hide the show from someone in the midst of the revelry. Thomas, having pulled his nets aboard and finding them despairingly empty, caught his breath as a dart of colour seemed to brush up against the boat. Being able to see very little in the dark and the fog, he carefully leaned down to the deck of his boat and made his way to the side, peering into the churning water. His boat was being rocked violently side to side, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He had lived his life on one form of ship or another and the unpredictable bucking was only a minor annoyance, not nearly enough to distract him from what he could see just below the surface. A luminescent fin broke the surface and splashed water all over his already damp clothes. He scrambled backwards in shock before resuming his position near the side. Another fin passed beyond his view. There looked to be dozens of the creatures. And they were creatures indeed, not fish or sharks or even dolphins. These creatures were long and lithe, supple and delicate and unlike any creature he had come across in his twenty-five years.

Something bumped forcefully up against the boat and everything seemed to stop. The lights froze in place and slowly disappeared into the inky darkness of the water. A few minutes passed before one of the creatures returned. Thomas felt its approach rather than saw. After thirty long seconds, a glimmering fin came into view, lit up in brilliant shades of green and gold that seemed to swirl over the surface of the creature. It swam around the boat several times before making contact. The fin disappeared under the vessel and he strained forwards, anxious of another look at the creature. As he watched the water, he almost missed the shimmering gold arm that crept up the side of the boat, latching on to the edge of the ship and gripping as another arm joined. A head followed, moving slowly out of the water. He gasped as he caught his first real look at a mermaid. A creature he had only ever heard about in those distant and faded stories told by a mother that had long since left.

Silken gold poured from her head, a few shades darker than her shimmering skin. Her entire being radiated a soft glow and her eyes captivated him. Dark pools of the purest blue, they pulled him into their depths and held him there.

The mermaid smiled, revealing dainty teeth and a soft pink tongue. Thomas couldn't help himself; he just had to touch that soft-looking skin. Reaching out a hand, he ran a finger down her sharp cheekbone. She shuddered into the touch, one of her hands reaching up to cradle his arm. The feeling of sharp nails and wet, webbed fingers gave him a moment's pause, but everything about the mermaid was so beautiful, so all-encompassing that the faint jolt of alien-ness was quickly eased.

His eyes eased down, as any hot-blooded young male was wont to do, and latched onto the mounds of her breasts. The golden flesh was barely covered by her golden tresses. They were exactly as he liked them on a woman. Just big enough to hold and to confirm that she was most definitely a woman. He caught himself staring and a blush worked its way up his neck. The mermaid did not seem too concerned by this however and her smile grew wider.

She released him and swam a few strokes away from the ship, gesturing for him to follow. This gave him pause. He remembered a story of a mermaid seducing a young man with her beautiful voice, leading him to water and then drowning him to feast on his flesh and steal the seed from his dead body. She tilted her head inquisitively and ran her hands over her bare flesh. The breath fled from his lungs and he decided that the exquisite creature could do anything she wanted to him and he would die a happy man. Besides, she seemed friendly enough.

Thomas stripped off his clothes and dove over the edge of his boat. He stayed under the water for a few moments, casting about to see if he could find the other flashes of light that would indicate more of the mermaids, but in the darkness the only thing he could see was one long, green tail. Breaking the surface for some air, he found her watching him. 

Her smile had taken on a predatory quality and a shiver of fear worked through him. In a few powerful movements, the mermaid had him wrapped up in her tail, his body flush with hers.

Her nipples were hard little pebbles against his chest and her body was soft, warm and luscious. She pressed her lips against his, tongue darting into his mouth to wrestle with his and she ran her hands down his body. He could feel her tail moving to keep them afloat, the twitches sending jolts of arousal through his body. His legs were trapped tightly within her coils, but in that moment there was no place on Earth he would have rather been. Her hands stroked lower, over his back and she scraped her nails over his buttocks, sending a deeper arousal coiling through him. His cock was already hard as steel, pressing into the soft flesh of her belly, where flesh met soft, textured scale. Not breaking their kiss, her hands latched on to his cock and started squeezing, stroking and caressing. He moaned into her lips and his own hands started their own exploration, finding and fondling her sweet breasts.

Breaking the kiss, her head flew back and she let out an unearthly shriek. The sound made him shudder, his body coiling tighter with pleasure. She became more frantic as he increased his ministrations, moving his cock into position. He felt something thick, hot and creamy against his shaft and she slammed him forwards, into the concealed slit in her tail. Groaning, he felt her spasm around his cock and started to shift his hips. In the water it was difficult to get a steady rhythm, but that didn't matter. As his orgasm started building, she let out another shriek and started convulsing harder around him. More creamy liquid lubricated his cock and he pounded with almost mindless determination as his own orgasm started to overwhelm him. 

Before he knew what was happening, he all but blacked out from pleasure as his cock jerked out strings of thick, white liquid, filling her deep with his cum. When he could finally move again, he found that his cock was still buried deep in her hole. Her entire body was rippling with the aftershocks of her pleasure and those rippled gently squeezed and massaged him back to his full eight-inch length. Shudders worked through his own body as he once more began to thrust. She was so easy to get off, a simple flick of one of her nipples was all it took to send another cock-crushing orgasm through her. She went off like a rocket over and over as he latched his mouth to one of her breasts and started to suck, flicking at the other as he steadily increased his thrusting. He had never cum twice in such a short span of time before, but she seemed determined to keep him with her until he did.

Choking out a hoarse cry, he jetted inside her, slumping exhaustedly beck into the water as the last of his cum vacated his body. He barely registered the movement of the mermaid as she swum back towards his boat. Once they were there, she held him up until he could find the strength to climb back inside. Giving him one last smile, she faded into the water and he fell into an exhausted sleep.

In the weeks and months that followed, Thomas barely spent more than a few hours on land at a time. He stocked up on food, water and clothes and lived his life in his boat, fishing and waiting, searching incessantly for the mermaid that he had made love to on that fateful foggy night. After four months he started to become depressed, questioning whether it had been anything other than a dream. Six months and he sank into a bleak routine, fishing and searching, barely even speaking to another human soul. Eight months and he was starting to finally consider giving up for good, but so long had passed in this new way of living that he didn't quite know where to start.

It was as the ninth month arrived, after buying a small cottage away from the rest of the village and moving his meagre belongings in that it happened. He was out on his boat again, for he had never been one to stay on land, mermaid or no, when he saw it. A flash of green. His heart leapt into his throat and he hardly dared to believe his own eyes. The flash of green cam again, closer this time. There was a franticness in the movements and he knew something was wrong. The boat lurched as his mermaid crashed into it, desperate. She caught herself on the edge and tried frantically to pull herself into the boat. He grabbed for her, hauling her heavy weight into his arms and settling her down, watching in shock as her now-bloated belly heaved and rippled. Her tail thrashed against the deck and he swallowed in panic as her entire body contorted in agony. She let out a piercing shriek and panted, her arms searching for him.

Thomas didn't know what to do, but he took one of her arms and let her lean into him as he started in horrified fascination at the scene before him. She was giving birth, the tiny slit in her tail didn't seem like it could possibly be big enough to birth their child. And it was his child, he was certain of it.

He could see the baby's head as a bulge trying to make its way out of its mother's belly. Her shrieking reached a fever pitch and he placed a hand on her belly, trying to soothe her. It seemed to work to a degree. After another massive contraction, she started to panic again and tried to head for the side of the ship. Thomas could see that her golden skin was starting to dry out and he bolted for the small bucket he kept in case of leaks. He scooped it over the edge and poured it slowly down her body. She relaxed for a moment before another contraction wracked her frame. He lost track of time as they fell into a routine. She would convulse and shriek, trying to get the baby out of her body and he would pour water over her, massaging her heaving belly in-between dousing her with water. Finally the baby's head crowned and the mermaid let out a final, shattering screech as the baby slid from her body. Thomas caught his new daughter, expecting to find another mermaid. What he didn't expect was a very human-looking baby with two healthy legs flailing around.

The mermaid panted and smiled weakly at him before stroking her daughter's downy head and heaving herself over the edge of the boat. Thomas lunged after her, stopping short when he remembered he was holding a baby, but even if he had followed her into the water, it would have been no use, she was gone.

Mind spinning in the shock of what had just happened, he examined his new daughter. She looked human enough, but she had no belly button. Her fingers and toes were ever so slightly webbed and her skin seemed to cast off an opalescent glow. She smiled up at her father, her dark brown hair a match for his own, and her eyes the same deep blue as her mothers'.

His entire life was about to change.



Mermaid Mine



While sailing in the South Pacific, I was trying to sleep but it was too hot below decks and went topside aboard my boat, The Mermaid Angel to catch a breath of fresh air. It was a mild night and a milder sea. 

I could smell Jasmine and other tropical flower scents being carried to me by soft breezes. Their smell was intoxicating. I began feeling lightheaded as their fragrance swirled up my nostrils and around my brain.

The sea is my home but the smell of these island flowers began to make me think of the beautiful islands that rose from their volcanic origins to decorate the sea, like a beauty spot on a woman's face. 

I thought of the long white beaches, massaged by turquoise and white waves and the tall palms moving in the wind, bending and swaying like a women dancing. A woman dancing-- I had been at sea too long! I needed the soft warm body and touch of a woman to ease my restlessness.

It was moon bright and as clear a night as ever I had seen. Millions of bright, dazzling stars, shined down, reflecting like tiny diamonds on the water. The moon was so large it seemed out of proportion to everything else, reflecting golden, mosaic designs across ocean. It was truly a magical night!

Then I heard it. A sound I had never heard before. It was musical but more than just mere music. It had a sad, wailing quality to it. It was a lonely sound, a beckoning sound, human, but not human.

It seemed to be calling me, just me, like it knew who I was and was demanding my presence. I had not had any drink or smoke that night and was completely sober. I began to wonder if the three months I had been at sea was beginning to take its toll.

No, there it was again. It became louder, closer, piercing my ears and brain like sharp pins. I began to think of the siren's call that had brought many a ship to their rocks and then a watery grave, in all the sea legends. 

Nonsense, they were just old sea tales. Stories meant to entertain sailors during their long lonely days and nights at sea. If there were mermaids, why hadn't one had ever been caught, or photographed over the years. No skeletal or other remains ever produced. 

But what was this sound? What was calling me? I started scanning the sea, from boat to horizon in the direction of the musical chant, with my binoculars. Nothing, nothing... wait, what was that? It was a small atoll, only slightly bigger than my boat. Then I noticed something or someone sitting on the rocks on the atoll. 

A silhouette, a woman's silhouette, framed against the stars and moon bright sky. I steered my boat toward her to get a better look. I was now, not more than one hundred yards away. I began to make out the outline. The musical chanting continued, it seemed to have some kind of grip on me.

I sailed my small boat to within fifty yards of the atoll. I was afraid to sail any closer, fearful I might scrape a rocky bottom and sink. I could see her much better now in the moonlight. Her hair was soft and long and wavy, the color of kelp. Her skin was pale, almost ghost-like in quality. Her legs....she had no legs, only a green, scaly fish tale, shimmering in the night!

This can't be! A mermaid, impossible! Yet there she was, right before my eyes. She was singing to me, looking right at me! My god was she was beautiful! 

Not so much by human standards. Her beauty was unearthly. Her skin was a pale, with a slight green hew to it. Her eyes were as two glowing emerald whirlpools. They seem to possess the wisdom of the ages.

Her lips were full, like that of a butter-mouth perch, smiling or rather grinning mockingly at me, baring sharp, white teeth. Her bare breasts were small and pointed, tipped with salmon-colored, erect nipples. 

I followed her stomach to her hips, and there between her scaly tail and her pelvis, was a woman's cunt, light green with red, glistening, folds of labia. She was magnificent!

I called out to her, "Ahoy there, who are you and what do you want of me?"

She stopped singing, parted her lips and held out her soft, pale, willowy arms in my direction. She spoke no words, but her meaning was clear.

Casting caution to the wind, I lowered my dinghy and rowed ashore to her. As I approached, I could smell the sea about her. She looked upon me, never looking away. Her gaze held me captive and drew me to her, just as her song had drawn me to her from afar.

Her arms wrapped around me like octopus tentacles, drawing me close, pulling me to her lips. Her lips were cool, but soft. Her tongue wet, warm and salty entered my mouth. It was much longer than a normal tongue and started to gag me, but she then pulled it back a little. 

I could feel the air from her gills on both sides of her neck on my palms as my hands cupped her face. I began to feel dizzy as I looked into the twin whirlpools of her eyes and had to close my own eyes to keep my bearings. 

I was completely under her spell. I felt her small breasts push up against my chest. She was much stronger than I was and she literally ripped the clothes from my body with her long claw-like fingers. 

I started to feel fear. She could tear me apart with those strong arms and claws. I knew now that I was completely at her mercy and awaited my fate. 

She suddenly became quite gentle. She caressed my body with her cool, webbed fingers. She explored every inch of me. 

After fondling my cock to hardness, she looked deep in my eyes, the whirlpools stopped spinning, and her smile softened as she lay back and pulled me on top of her.

My cock reached her cunt and slipped in easily. It was the only warm part of her body except for her tongue. It felt wonderful! Not like the cunt of a woman, it seemed to have more internal layers to it and was much stronger. 

I could feel it milking me as her vaginal muscles caressed my cock like tiny suction cups, squeezing, sucking, and drawing sperm from my testicles.

I could feel my own orgasm approaching. She was completely in command, using me like some helpless slave for her insemination and pleasure.

Then it was over, and with my seed deep inside her, pushed me away and quickly dove into the water and was gone. I sat there in shock for a few minutes and after regaining my strength and wits, then climbed into my dinghy and rowed naked, with a few shreds of clothing hanging from me, back to my boat. 

I climbed on board. As I looked at my body, I could see a green, slimy liquid, wherever she had come in contact with my skin. It smelled very erotic. Like a mixture of sperm, ocean water and mermaid quim all in one.

I climbed into my bunk without washing and fell fast asleep for several hours. When I awoke, I noticed the slime on my body had dried and crystallized, and as I brushed it off I could see fish scales fall to the deck like snowflakes. I looked over at the atoll but it was deserted.

I have thought about her many times but I have never heard or seen her since that night. Sometimes I wake up hearing her song, but realize I have only dreamed it. I have often wondered why she wanted my seed and what it may conceive?



Mermaid Movie



Chapter 1
A Challenge

Tim Holt recognized a real challenge when he saw one, even if his client didn't. Tim worked with a small modeling agency in a moderately sized seacoast town of New England, and it wasn't unusual for him to be called upon to provide models for photographers or movie makers using his area for location work. The rocky seashore area was popular for vacationers and make a great backdrop for shoreline activities.

Russell Thatcher, producing a low-budget movie, had called on Tim with a very simple request; he needed six models who would be costumed as mermaids and would serve as a kind of background scenery for a sequence he intended to shoot. Originally, the scene had been planned for nearer his home studio in California; but the director had recently viewed a location not far from Tim, and decided it was just the perfect spot to use, so they had decided to shoot on location. Tim now had been asked to find six female models to portray the mermaids, and to be ready with them in about ten days. Thatcher's company would rent a small studio in Tim's area, where they would store their equipment, and prepare the actors and models for the scene.

Tim had been provided a synopsis of the script, for his use in selecting suitable candidates. The scene they intended to shoot was only a small part of the movie, and they intended to do it in one day, once everything was set up. The actual shooting location was to be an isolated rocky area of coastline about fifty miles away, and at that location there were no buildings or facilities of any kind, so all of the participants and equipment would be taken directly there from the rented studio. It was intended to do all of the shooting in one day, as it would expensive to return to the location. Also, he had learned that the director was quite fussy about the quality of his work, and, without an opportunity to return to the site, he wanted all shooting done with numerous takes. This would give him maximum opportunity to select that most to his liking for the final production.

The scene involved a "dream" sequence within a larger story. Only the "dream" sequence would be shot here. The scenario called for what would be portrayed as a dream of the main character (played by a male actor). In the story, the principal character has heard a legend that mermaids inhabit a certain isolated coastal area where they can occasionally be seen by humans. In the dream sequence, he dreams that he and two friends go in their truck to the area, intent on capturing mermaids, which they would intend to take home with them. As they explore the area, they come upon a family of mermaids, consisting of five young mermaids and their ever-watchful mermaid mother. All of them are reclining on rocks by the sea. The men approach the mermaids and make overtures to befriend them. In typical mermaid fashion, the mermaids never speak, but the men consider how to go about capturing three of them, while they do not want to tangle with the mother who keeps an eye on everything going on. They hit upon an idea, and produce from their truck a supply of champagne glasses and a number of bottles of champagne (in dream sequences one does not need to be concerned with the logic of carrying such things in a truck). They offer the mermaids, including Mama mermaid, champagne. Never having tasted it before, the mermaids sip it cautiously, then enthusiastically down it - glass after glass. While they are doing this, the men debate among themselves which of the mermaids they will try to take. After a time, all of the mermaids, including the mother, become so drunk they pass out. The men then carry the three they have selected, unconscious, back to their truck and drive away.

The scene seems simple. The actors do all the talking and the action. The mermaids only have to sit there, look pretty, and drink numerous glasses of champagne. In reality, of course, it won't be champagne, but soda water or something similar that will look like champagne; but they will have to drink it, as that is their part of the action. And, Tim knew, each scene would be shot many times. 

So he knew he needed six women, five youthful ones, and one older one to portray the mother. All they had to do was lie on the rocks, in costume, and drink simulated champagne. Russell had not seen that it should be difficult to find female models locally to portray the mermaids.

Yes, Tim thought, he could probably find five girls and one older woman to be mermaids. Thatcher's company was going to provide the costumes, which were already made, and the place where they would dress and be made up. Thatcher had told him, of course, that mermaids were ordinarily topless, and the models would have to appear this way (it was obviously an adult-oriented movie). The costumes covered the models only from the waist down. Tim recognized that this did impose a bit of a limitation, but he could find girls willing to be topless for this scene. A bigger problem, but not unsolvable, would be the "mother" mermaid, as Thatcher had specified that she must have gray hair (this could be sprayed, if necessary, but natural gray would be preferred), and must have the appearance of an attractive woman about fifty or more.. She would have to appear bare-breasted, as a mermaid, but it was specified that her breasts must have a fair amount of droop, so as to clearly suggest that she is much older than the others. Tim knew he could come up with older models, but the requirement to be attractive in appearance yet to have obviously drooping breasts and a willingness to display them bare, would somewhat limit the field.

Tim had done a bit of research on who among his lists of models he might use, when he decided that he needed to be certain just what the costuming would be like. When he found out from Russell Thatcher a little more about the costumes, he began to realize he indeed had a challenge on his hands.

The mermaid costumes had already been made, and at minimum cost (this was a low budget movie). Since they were to be used only for one day, it had not been thought necessary to make them particularly durable or reusable. After all, the mermaids would only lie on the rocks in them while the scene was being shot. They didn't have to move around; they could be carried into position, and the actors would carry off several of them later. 

Actually, the wearers would hardly be able to move, at least from the waist down. The wearers would have nothing on from the waist up, but the costumes would encase them from the waist down, completely hiding their legs. Instructions had been prepared for dressing the mermaids, and Tim had read them. While specific, they did not directly suggest any major complications.

He had been given a size range for the models, but the costumes could accommodate a reasonable range of sizes. He noted the one for the mother was a bit larger. Size would not be a major problem. Under the costumes, the wearers could not wear anything. Underwear of any kind might cause lines to show or would interfere with the make-up process. Before putting on the costume, the wearer would have to lie (presumably naked) holding her legs together. A thin but tough ribbon was to be used to loosely bind both legs together, to prevent any accidental movement which might damage the costume; so, once dressed, the wearer had to remain with her legs bound together until the day's work was done. The costumes themselves were fragile, being made of a kind of paper mache with an elastic top. Actually, each would come in three pieces; a front and back which were molded into the fishtail shape, and which would be placed on the wearer and the two halves then fastened together; after which the elastic portion would be slid into position over the top portion and covering the area just below the wearer's waist.

The make-up people could trim the front and back halves slightly to adjust the fit to the wearer, and after all the pieces were in place, a type of body make-up would be applied over any visible seams and to shade the costume into the wearer's body.

Obviously, the costumes were intended to be worn only once, and once in place, were not intended to be taken off until no longer needed. As the actual costumes were fragile and were not intended to be reused, the wearer had to keep her legs together and quite still as long as she wore the costume. 

Thatcher's costumer had sent Tim a note with a bit of added information. "Whoever you select as a mermaid needs to know that she will have to be dressed in the costume very early in the day, and the process of dressing and applying make-up will probably take an hour, possibly an hour and a half. She will have to wear the costume all day, or at least until the shooting is finished. She can move her legs a little, but the costume will probably make her feel cramped. With the costume on, she cannot walk or even crawl, so she will have to be carried to wherever she must go. Also, this type of costume tends to be quite warm for the body parts it covers. She will probably find that her legs get hot, but as she will be bare from the waist up, and presumably near the seashore with the probability of some cool breezes, it should be tolerable. When we designed these costumes, we expected to be shooting very near the studio, so you will need to make the wearers aware of the time it will take to transport them to the scene of shooting."

The challenge, Tim realized, was the time the models would have to wear the mermaid costumes. An hour and a half to get dressed and made up, he calculated, plus about two hours and a half to get to the location (possibly an optimistic assumption, given its isolation), then maybe an hour or two to set up. That came to six hours, and Russell had said he wanted the models available for at least six hours to do the shooting and retakes, with the possibility of overtime if needed. Even not counting the trip back, the models would need to wear the mermaid costumes twelve hours or more. He verbally went over his calculations with Lucy, his office assistant sitting across from him.

"Lucy, don't you think those girls are going to get very cramped legs, having to keep them together in that suit for twelve hours? Think we can get girls willing to do it? Seems a long time!"

"Tim, you started out saying all they had to do was lie there in the costumes while the shooting goes on. By the time they get to the shooting, they'll have been in those things six hours. I hope they're still going to feel like looking pretty! Glad it isn't going to be me. I hope you come up with a warm day for their top halves and a cool one for their bottoms!"

"Well, at least they'll get to guzzle some make-believe champagne! Russ said he expected a number of takes, and they have to be seen drinking the stuff. That'll keep them cooled off!"

"Champagne! You didn't tell me about the champagne!"

"Don't get excited, Lucy. It'll only be make-believe champagne, but each girl will probably get to drink two or three glasses for each take. The drinking has to be real, that's been specified. So they won't be thirsty. I'll try to arrange to have it chilled, so it will help keep them comfortably cool."

"COMFORTABLY cool? They may be cool, but they sure won't be comfortable. I didn't know about the champagne part of it. You may have a real problem getting girls who can do this!" Lucy seemed a bit dubious.

"Yeah, I figured we'll have to explain it all to them. But I can hike the hourly rate a bit, and they ought to be able to endure a few cramps in their legs for what they'll get. Especially if it runs into overtime!" 

"You're worried about cramps in their legs? That's going to be a minimal problem. Tim, don't you know anything about female biology?"

"What do you mean? Every model has to get used to a little discomfort!"

Lucy shook her head in disgust. "Tim, how long do you figure they have to keep those fish legs on, altogether?"

"Probably a bit over twelve hours. They'll need to be prepared for possibly fifteen, though, with the chance of overtime or the return trip."

"Tim, do a little thinking. They are in those things, all sewed up, with their legs tied together. Once they're in that state, they can't go to the bathroom until the day's over. Right?"

Tim thought a bit. He had been thinking of the hot legs cramped up in the fishtail costumes. Lucy had a significant point. "I guess you're right. So we better warn them before they go..."

"BEFORE? Tim, could you go twelve hours, let alone fifteen, without going to the bathroom? Even without guzzling a dozen glasses of make-believe champagne? Then you want them to drink like fish during a six hour shoot, which may mean they have to down a couple of liters of the stuff, if he insists on a lot of retakes. Then, if one of them leaks, the costume gets wet and you know they're not waterproof, so they will fall apart. You better find girls with iron bladders!"

"Lucy, what am I going to do? Russ is an important client, and he isn't going to budge on his requirements. We've got to find six models for this job. How do we do it?"

"Look, Tim, about all I know is that I couldn't do what this is going to take, even if I had the shape for it. You're going to have to call those on your list and give them the requirements. You've got to tell them the job calls for posing half nude with their legs encased in a tail for fifteen hours, while drinking a quart or two of liquid and absolutely no bathroom breaks! You'd better offer a good price! And even if they say they'll do it, you'd better come up with a way to test them, because if it turns out they can't do it you're going to have a big problem!" 

All of this resulted in a long planning session, well into the evening, between Tim and Lucy. Eventually they did come up with a plan.

CHAPTER 2
Applicants




Mermaid Movie



"Right. I got it. Say, if I take things off here, is someone going to walk in one me? I don't want to be an exhibitionist!"

"Don't worry," Lucy reassured her. I've got the outer door locked. I won't unlock it while you're undressed."

"Did you say undressed? Look here, the paper said semi-nude. I'm willing to do bare breasts, but I don't really do full frontal nudity!"

"Calm it, Paula. For the interview, you have to be nude from the waist up. You only need to be totally nude for the time you're being dressed. The costumers will require you to strip while they get your costume on, because it has to go over bare skin; but there will be no posing or photos of your bottom half. However, you will need to be interviewed with your breasts bare, and afterward I will ask you to step behind the screen and empty your bladder into a container."

Paula looked puzzled, but removed her shirt. Lucy had her make several turns, satisfying herself that Paula had a good enough figure for the mermaid scene. She asked Paula to stand close to her. Carefully, Lucy pressed on Paula's abdomen. It did indeed feel hard, and the touch made Paula wince noticeably.

"You feel reasonably full. Paula. Tell me what you did to assure that you had a full bladder?"

Paula blushed a bit. Being half naked was bad enough, but having to talk about her urinary situation was really stressing her modesty. "Well, I got up about seven. Usually, I go to the bathroom and take a pee right after getting up. Today I skipped that. I drank about five cups of coffee instead of eating breakfast, and also had a big glass of juice and two glasses of water, all between seven thirty and eight. Then I drank a canned drink on the way down here."

"How does your bladder feel, and when did you pee last?"

"I haven't peed since about eleven last night; and my bladder is sore. It feels hard when I touch it, and it hurts, and I really need to pee something awful! When can I?"

"In a little while, after your interview is over. All right, you can go in and see Mr. Holt, now!" She started to open Tim's door.

"Just like you are. Bladder and all. Mr. Holt will make the decision on who we select."

Blushing and shaking, wearing only her shoes and jeans, Paula walked into Tim's office. He rose to greet her, and extended his hand. She hardly knew how to act., She wasn't accustomed to doing interviews half nude, and, anyway, her distended bladder was hurting her terribly. But she was a model, and she tried to maintain some semblance of poise.

Tim tried to ease her a bit. "Paula, I hope Lucy explained why we're doing things this way. I know you are terribly uncomfortable, but this is the way you're likely to feel toward the end of the day on Friday, if you're with us when we do the shooting. Despite how you feel, we still need models who can look like pretty mermaids. So I need you to show me how you would do it."

He talked with her a few minutes, had her walk and pose, and looked her over carefully. She did try to recoup her composure and managed a smile. She did have a good figure, and her bare breasts were perfect for a mermaid. After about twenty minutes, Tim decided to go to the physical test.

"Paula, I had to ask you to do this, but we have to see what your bladder capacity is, because we can't risk using a girl with a weak or small bladder. What do you think about yours?"

"Right now," Paula replied, "it feels as big as a watermelon and as hard as a rock. I hope you're going to let me relieve it soon!"

"Right now," Tim responded. He produced a large plastic pitcher bearing calibrations. "I am going to send you out to Lucy, with this. She will allow you to go behind a screen in the outer office, and fill it as much as you can. That will give us an idea of what your bladder capacity is. Go ahead!" He handed her the pitcher, and escorted her to the door.

Outside, Lucy directed her to a screen set up at one end of the room. "You may go behind it, while you fill the pitcher," she directed.

"Do I have to do it here? Can't I go to a bathroom?" Paula asked, nervously.

Lucy explained with a shake of her head, "We can't take any chances of applicants filling the pitcher from a water faucet or from someone else. I must ask you to do it here. You do want the relief, don't you? And the modeling job?"

She blushed some more, but stepped behind the screen. She unfastened her jeans, dropped them and her panties, and assumed a half-squatting position, holding the pitcher under her with one hand. 

It took her a minute or so to get things going, but she did manage to urinate into the pitcher. To her surprise, Lucy talked to her while she was urinating, asking her of her schedule to assure her availability for the job. She answered, thoughtfully, but horribly embarrassed to be talking while she was urinating into a pitcher. 

At length she finished. "Do you want it?" she asked, holding the pitcher. Lucy took it, inspected it, and noted the calibrations. "920 ml's - just a little less than a quart. That's a good load for you. And it's not too strong, either, showing you drank a lot recently and that dilutes it. OK, thank you. I believe you can be confident of being one of our mermaids." She asked her to put her shirt on and wait, while Lucy went in to see Tim with the foaming pitcher of yellowish urine. "I think she meets our standards, Tim. Close to a quart. And you know, she sure feels better!" she commented to Tim, as Paula retrieved her clothes and began dressing. Lucy returned to the outer office, carrying the pitcher. She thanked Paula and dismissed her with assurance she would be very favorably considered, after which she took the pitcher out to dispose of its contents.

At ten, the second candidate showed up. Lucy took her through much the same routine. She was just a little older than Paula, with a good figure. She didn't seem quite so nervous, though.

Tim found out why. After his interview, when she seemed just too relaxed, he gave her the pitcher and Lucy found out she had only 500ml in her bladder - a little over half of what Paula had held.

The day went on. By mid-afternoon, he had found three girls whom he felt would make good mermaids, and seemed to have adequate bladder capacity. Another, terribly upset about her small bladder, asked if she could come back and try again Tuesday. Two, disturbed about the whole procedure, left before reaching Tim for an interview. He had three more to interview today.

Around 4:30, he conferred with Lucy.

"We're doing pretty good with our young mermaids, but what have got for the mermaid mom? I haven't heard you say a thing!"

Lucy shrugged. "Only one bite, and the woman wasn't interested after I explained it. You had it right - it's going to be hard to find an older woman for this. "

One more mermaid candidate was added to the "maybe list", after Tim finished with an hour later. He returned her to Lucy, who directed her to the screen, from where she returned holding a pitcher filled to 800ml. Lucy reported to Tim, who responded "She did pretty well, but I don't really think she looks right. What else have we got coming?"

"One more tonight, and then there's a list for tomorrow." 

Tim began his last scheduled interview for the day with Renee, 29 years old, and the most relaxed one he had seen all day. She walked proudly and confidently into his office, nude to the waist, as they all had been. She didn't seem to mind this at all, and acted quite at ease.

Before him, she did the right posing. He thought she was a bit old for the job, but she had a good shape, and she certainly had poise. What bothered him was that she did not seem to suffer from bladder distress at all, though Lucy had signaled him that she indeed had a very firm hard bladder.

He felt compelled to broach the question to her. "You know," he began, "you are very poised and you certainly are experienced and look the part. But I don't understand you feelings - you are either awfully good at covering up your bodily feelings, or your bladder really isn't full. Which is it?"

"Lucy asked me what I did to get ready, that is, to fill my bladder, and I told her. I know you want it full, and if you want me to, I can demonstrate how full it is. I just have a good capacity. I have had to hold myself lots of times, and I have become good at it. Yes, it's stretched pretty bad, and it's hurting me a bit, but I've learned to handle it."

"Good. you can show us" He handed her the pitcher, and started to usher her to the outer office.. She stood still, looking a bit puzzled at first, but seemed to get the message. "I'd prefer to make the demonstration for you, instead of Lucy, if you don't mind," she said, rather firmly. Tim was a bit astounded, and answered "Do you really? Well, OK, if you want to, but I'm not requiring it. Without a further question, she unfastened her slacks and stepped out of them, then pulled off her panties, still standing in the same spot. Then she spread her legs, held the pitcher under herself, standing erect, and began to pee a fierce stream into it. 

"Does this satisfy you?" she asked, calmly, while her stream shot forcefully into the pitcher, already half full. He asked her how she had prepared, and, while continuing to urinate, she answered "I drank water all afternoon. I don't know how much. At one point, I drank a quart almost straight down. Another time I drank several glasses, then stopped only because my stomach was full. I haven't eaten all day, just filled my stomach with water. It's all water, and I probably drank over three quarts. I haven't peed since eight this morning, until now; and, you'll notice, I'm still peeing, and I have more in me. I think I'm going to fill this pitcher. Do you have another?"

He was amazed. He did have a second pitcher and got it for her. She calmly stopped her flow, handed him the pitcher filled with about 1350ml of almost clear urine. She placed the second pitcher under herself, and asked, calmly, "shall I start up again?" He answered, "Go ahead", and she released her stream again, continuing her commentary as the liquid poured from her, "I'm getting low now, probably will stop soon. Am I producing enough for you?"

He was amazed. She produced almost another 300ml in the second pitcher, a total of about 1650. What amazed him most was her seeming lack of distress with a bladder that must have been exceedingly well stretched.

He concluded the interview, and shared his report with Lucy. "I think she's mermaid number 4", he indicated. Lucy seemed to agree, but she had something else to report. "The Mermaid Mom - I've actually got a bite!"

She got his interest, and continued, "I've called four of our mature models, and didn't get anyone who would interview for it. But I got a call from a Martha Lewis, who want to be interviewed tomorrow. She wanted to be sure she understood the requirements. She wanted to be allowed to come in wearing a bra, saying she would take it off during the interview. I talked her out of that, and told her we needed to see how she looked braless as she came in. She really didn't want to walk around without a bra, but said she would pose bare breasted. The bladder thing bothered her too -she said how full is full. I told her again, it means as full as she can stand it. Her reply was 'you mean so full it hurts", and I said yes, indeed. She's 56, says she has natural gray hair, but asked for a later appointment, said she needed time to fill herself up. So I gave her eleven tomorrow."

"She's a bit older than I would like, and it sounds like she's probably got well hinged breasts; but, well, she's the only mermaid mom we've got so far."

That evening, Tim tried to get two older women who had done modeling for a friend, but got a complete turn down from one, and an "I'll think about it" from the other. 

Tuesday began with them still needing one young mermaid and a mermaid mom.

CHAPTER 3

Mermaid Mom

The first interview, early at eight o'clock, did not go well. The candidate decided she would not try to endure what was required, and left. The second produced a possible, until she got the pitcher test, which resulted in only 200ml. Tim decided she either wasn't trying, or had a hopelessly small bladder. She wouldn't have been able to last through even half of the day, he decided.

He was getting discouraged, but the third candidate was better. She was terribly nervous and upset, apparently because her bladder was indeed overly full, and she said she was not sure she could hold it even to the end of the interview. She constantly asked to relieve herself and return to the interview afterward, but Tim wouldn't let her. Actually, he was quite pleased at her agitation, for it showed she had indeed filled her bladder to the bursting point. She did hold to the end of the interview, and produced 770ml when she used the pitcher. Tim was pleased, although he had hoped she would come up with a bit more. He felt she would do, but admonished her to try just a little harder on her capacity, warning her Friday was going to be a difficult day for her. As she left, he announced to Lucy that she could be number five.

A few minutes before eleven, Lucy saw through the window an older woman walking toward their building entrance. This, she thought, will be Martha Lewis. A couple of minutes later, Martha Lewis indeed rang the bell at the office door. Lucy, delighted to finally have a candidate for Mermaid Mom, welcomed her to the office, insuring the door locked again behind her.

Martha was quite tall, about five nine, and weighed in at 135. She was not as slender as the younger candidates, but her face was smooth and with only a trace of age lines. Her hair was solid gray, worn at shoulder length. She wore a light yellow shirt and nicely fitting blue slacks. She was holding herself very stiff and erect, and her posture caused her to appear about aloof. Lucy sized this up as the attempt of an older woman to keep her breasts lifted and still. Lucy recalled that this lady did not want to walk in braless, but had finally agreed to. She stood stiffly, swallowed noticeably, and seemed quite uncomfortable. Lucy was delighted. This lady was probably walking around without a bra when she really needed one, and with a very uncomfortably full bladder.

Lucy insured that Martha was indeed braless. Martha, when asked, simply slipped her shirt collar to the edge of her shoulder, evidencing that there was no bra strap there. Martha commented "I hate to be braless, but I understand this is what you require. You can see I have no bra. Do you want me to take the shirt off?"

"That would be a good idea," Lucy responded. "Also, tell me how you prepared your bladder for this visit?"

Martha unbuttoned her shirt, and opened it, revealing two moderately sized breasts, with large, dark, and very erect nipples. They drooped a bit, even as she tried to stiffen her back and hold them up. In fact, the erect nipples pointed downward perhaps thirty degrees, and the underside of her breasts were hardly visible. As she removed the shirt, she commented on her condition. "They've stiffened from rubbing against my shirt - as I told you, I don't usually go braless, and they do quiver a bit..." She was obviously referring to her nipples. "And, as for my bladder condition, I can assure it it's not only full, it's bulging. I hope you don't want me to show you - my bottom isn't that pretty, but I think my top is pretty good for my age. I don't know what you are expecting. I last went to the bathroom about seven thirty, and I have drunk about ten glasses of fluid since then, mostly water and soft drinks. I understand this is some kind of a test to see if I can wait a long time without going to the bathroom, and I think I do as well in that as most younger women. But I kid you not, the whole area below my stomach is swollen and aching, and I think that's where most of the water is now."

Lucy explained to her a bit more of the Mermaid Mom situation, and what she would have to go through. She asked Martha to turn and let her see her body in profile, and from the rear.

Martha still stood rather stiffly, and finally Lucy told her, "Mrs. Lewis, you are standing rather stiffly. I think you are trying to hold your breasts high, but I really need to see them more relaxed. Please face me and bend over - put your hands on my desk. I want to see how your breasts hang naturally!" 

"They do hang." Martha replied, doing as told. "they're not as firm as when I was younger."

"Yes," Lucy agreed. "But we don't want firm young breasts in your situation. We want older breasts, and we want them to hang gracefully. Now I want you to shake them slightly, so I can see how they move." Martha, obviously embarrassed, managed a little shake, Her nipples, still erect, quivered a bit. Softly, she said, "my bladder's so, so, full!" Lucy smiled, satisfied.

Lucy instructed Martha to stand in front of her, explaining that she needed to press slightly on her abdominal area to see how her bladder felt. Martha protested a bit, but stood in front of Lucy as she palpated the woman gently. The hardness was apparent, and Lucy nodded to her. "I think you're in the condition we expect. You may go in!" Lucy opened the door to Tim's office.

Lucy ushered in the semi-nude gray haired woman. Martha at first tried to cover her breasts from his view, but hastily reconsidered and accepted Tim's extended hand. He had her stand before him, then she had to turn, showing him her body from every side. Her had her bend over, viewing her breasts as they hung. The nipples were still erect, stimulated by their unaccustomed exposure.

Tim was satisfied at her appearance. He told her so. Finally, he produced the pitcher and instructed her to return to the outer office, behind the screen, and empty the contents of her bladder into it. She was very reluctant, finally agreeing. Her urination was slow, not as forceful as many of the younger women, and when she was through, she produced the pitcher, with its contents at 650ml. Lucy reported the results.

Tim was disturbed, "Martha", he began, "In everything else you will do quite well as the Mermaid Mom. You look good, and your breasts are right for the job. Your hair is great, and so is your color. But if your bladder capacity is only this much, I don't think you could last through the day! I just wish you could stretch your bladder a little more, in fact, about half again as much! I can't really take a chance on you not being to hold it long enough to get through the day!"

Martha was a bit downcast. "I guess I'm just an old lady, and I must not have prepared well enough. But I tell you this, if you use me, I won't wet myself! I've never done that. I'll hold on, no matter how much it hurts, even if I feel like I'll burst! I may complain about the pain, but I can stand it. Just let me try!"

Tim knew that he had no other candidate at the moment. He looked at this half-naked, 56 year old woman, now with her back drawn up and her breasts proudly thrust at him, even if pointing a bit downward, and he thought she was perfect, if only her bladder would hold. He told her he would consider her plea, and then escorted her to the door.

Two more young mermaid candidates showed up that afternoon, although one declined to interview. Tim dismissed the other because he was not impressed by her figure. 

As the last candidate left, Lucy picked up the ringing telephone. A female voice presented itself. "I am Eileen Townsend. Tim called me last night. I would like to interview for the mermaid assignment, if I may. I've thought about it carefully. I can come in tomorrow morning, if you still want to talk about it

Lucy, somewhat ecstatic, signaled Tim. Eileen was told to come in at nine. She objected. "You know, with the requirements you have imposed, I'd really like to come in earlier. I mean, well, it's the requirement about a full bladder. Could you make it earlier?"




Mermaid Movie



Tim whispered to Lucy to find out why she wanted an earlier appointment, but told her to make it anyway. "It's a matter of timing. Tim told me that the bladder requirement was because I might have to go fifteen hours without using a bathroom. I didn't know if I could do it, but now I've tried, and I think I can. It's five thirty now; fifteen hours from now is eight thirty in the morning. I've just emptied my bladder after holding it for fourteen hours, but I didn't drink much. I don't plan to empty it again before I come in, and from about seven I intend to start drinking all the water I can hold. I don't know what this is going to do to me, but I intend to be extremely full when I come in. I will not be wearing a bra, in fact, I won't be wearing much of anything if I can come in early."

Lucy was amazed, but put her down for eight. She and Tim smiled at each other.

Wednesday, promptly at eight, they had a visitor at the door. Eileen Townsend indeed was there. Lucy viewed her as she came in. She had short gray hair, a slightly tanned skin color. Her rather small beasts moved only slightly beneath their thin covering. She wore a red robe, very light and thin, tied with a thin cord at her waist. She was slender, reported her weight as 130, and her age as 53, and on her feet she wore sandals. She was smiling, and her face was clear and attractive, with very subtle make-up. As Lucy looked at her, she guessed that the robe was her only garment and that she was naked under it.

Eileen was not hampered by excessive modesty. "'Are you ready for me, and is it all right if I take the robe off?" she asked.. Lucy nodded, and her guess was affirmed. Eileen Townsend kicked off her sandals, and stood in front of her, naked. 

Lucy quickly commented on her nudity, remarking that it was necessary only to display her breasts. However, she added, "since you have come without any other clothing than the robe, we will agree to interview you naked, as long as you don't mind." 

She posed quite erect, for a moment, allowing Lucy to view her body. The tan color did not extend below her neck, indicating that she had not been sunning herself topless, but her body was firm. Her breasts were not large, and had only a little sag to them. Below her navel, her carefully trimmed pubic hair showed, and there was an obvious bulge suggesting her bladder was indeed very, very, full. 

Her face bore a smile, but as Lucy looked at her, there were tears in her eyes, and she was shaking, visibly. 

Lucy could see that there was an attempt to display nonchalance, and her apparent lack of modesty was feigned, for she was obviously nervous, blushing slightly, and trying to cover her intense discomfort. She was in great pain, Lucy concluded, from the attempt to retain her urine, and she was trying to cover it with an attitude that would allow her to get it over with as quickly as possible. Lucy recalled that Eileen had said she intended to drink all the water should hold this morning, after already having held her urine for at least fourteen hours; and this lady had put herself into a position of extreme discomfort with a painfully distended bladder being forced to accept a further huge load of water, and using all the muscle strength she could command to hold it. No wonder she wanted to go through it as fast as possible. That was the reason for wearing only one garment and being so quick to discard it. 

Lucy had her pose quickly, looking at her on all sides. She was indeed an attractive woman, but, Lucy noted, her small breasts were firm and stayed quite well in place when she moved, where the request was for breasts that sagged more and looked older. 

Eileen seemed not at all embarrassed when she was ushered, nude, into Tim's office. She held out her hand in greeting, with no attempt at all to cover her body. Tim noted, however, that the hand he did not grasp immediately fell to her crotch and pressed into her pubic region, a sure sign of her bladder distress.

Tim had her pose in various positions, which she did. He tried to put her in postures where her breasts would move a bit, but they simply didn't cooperate. Actually, they were quite firm and high, but this was not in keeping with the requirement.

Tim, also saw the tears in her eyes and noted her shaking. He had, with other candidates, tried to draw out the interview, to see how the woman would come across trying to maintain poise when her bladder was painfully full, but he could see this one was having a hard time with it already. Try as she could, the pain was showing, and the poise was not equal to covering it.

Eileen knew she was not handling it the way she hoped. She got to the breaking point, and her voice trembled as she spoke to Tim, "I can't; I can't!! I've tried so hard, but I can't hold it any longer! I've got to let it out -now - now . Even if you're not through with me, please, I've got to do it now, NOW!!" 

Quickly he gave her the pitcher. She tried to hold it under herself, while bending only slightly. Suddenly, a burst of urine came out of her, spraying in an arc, pouring into the pitcher. She held the pitcher, sobbing, with tears in her eyes. While the stream continued to pour out of her, she lowered her voice and said to Tim, "I guess I've lost it- and I did so want to be your Mermaid Mom! I thought I could force myself to hold it!"

When she finished, Tim noted she had urinated almost 1400ml! Almost a quart and a half, out of a lady on the shady side of fifty! He wondered how many other women would be able to do this, with or without the tears.

He tried to comfort her. She had really done exceedingly well with the bladder test, and the only real problem he could see was that her breasts were too small and too firm. It would not be any easy decision.

After she left, being told they would call her shortly. He and Lucy held a conference.

"Lucy, Eileen was great, even with the tears and all. She clearly could hold it, but her figure is going to disappoint Russell. He wants flabbier breasts that swing a bit. Martha has them, but I'm not sure Martha's bladder is equal to it. What think you?"

"If we could get Martha to do another test, I'd say go with her. But I really hate to disappoint Eileen - she really put herself through torture, really gave it a try!"

After some consideration, Tim found himself talking to Martha Lewis on the telephone. "Martha, he began, you've really got the best figure for this, and I'd like to use you, but I just need to be sure your bladder has the endurance we need. I know you said you could hold it longer, but I can't take a chance. In the scene, you'll have to consume as many drinks as you are asked, and you'll probably have to go fifteen hours without a pee. The young women we've selected have all managed to hold a quart, or almost a quart; and you only did two thirds of that."

"Tim", Martha broke in, "I know I can hold it - I know I can. It's going to hurt, I know, but I can endure the pain. Is there any way I can convince you?"

"Yes, Martha, there is. A demonstration. That's the only fair way to do it. Come into my office this afternoon with a least a liter in your bladder and I'll use you for the job. "

"What time to do you want me?" 

"How long will it take you to fill up?" 

"How about three o'clock?" 

"OK - I'll be there! Filled up!"

Tim and Lucy awaited their model applicant, wondering if indeed she would succeed.

They underestimated Martha Lewis.

At one o'clock, Martha was at the office of Dr. Martin Phillips, a local GP. She was there addressing an old friend, Jerri Matheson, the office nurse of Dr. Phillips. Jerri knew Martha as an occasional patient of her employer, and as a personal friend of many years.

Martha was making a request. "Jerri, I need you help! I've got a modeling job coming up, and I need to qualify for it this afternoon. You can help me. I know you've done catheterizations in the office. Can you catheterise me?"

Jerri stared at Martha with a bit of shock. "What on earth for? Have you got a urinary blockage of some kind? You need to see the doctor, and he's not in today-"

"Look here, Jerri, I haven't got a lot of time. No, I don't have a blockage. It would probably help a bit if I did. But my bladder control may not be good enough for me to get this job! I want you to put a catheter into me, not to empty my bladder but to fill it up! Can you do it?"

Jerri, completely baffled, sat down and just stared at Martha, who continued. "See, they need a model my age and shape, but the job is going to require me to get into a costume I can't get out of for probably fifteen hours, and I can't urinate while I'm in it, but I'll have to drink a lot of liquid while I'm wearing it. So I've got to hold my water for fifteen hours including all I have to drink. So they will only take a woman who can demonstrate that she can hold about a liter, or a quart, in her bladder. I tried, and made about two thirds of a liter. I think I could hold a full liter, but I've got to get it in me, and I've no way of knowing how much is in me. Bladders don't come with gauges. But you could stick in a catheter, and fill my bladder up to a full liter; then, all I have to do is manage to hold it long enough to go over to the agency, and I'll be able to urinate a full liter, which will demonstrate my capacity. Won't you do it for me?" 

Jerri was shaking her head, confused. "Martha, how can you be sure your bladder will hold a liter? That a lot for a human bladder! I could probably put it in, if I do it slowly, and stretch your bladder, but it's going to be awfully painful, and I can't give you any painkiller or anesthetic. Then when I do take the catheter out, you'll have to hold it by yourself, and you may not be able to. I'm telling you, that much is going to stretch your bladder to its limits, and it's going to be very painful for you! And, even if you do manage to hold it, what I'm going to put in is clear water. If anyone checks you when you urinate, they're going to see that it's clear, and they will know it won't be natural!"

"I thought of that. Could you put a drop of this in?" She produced from her purse a tiny bottle f yellow food coloring. "It's edible, it's non-toxic, and if you use it in the water you put it it will turn it yellow. It will look natural. No one will question it!"

Jerri shrugged her shoulders, muttered something under her breath, and looked in her supply cabinet.

"You get in the first examining room", she said, and undress. I'll get a catheter. But I've got to drain your bladder first, or do you just want to urinate first and assure me it's empty? If you don't, there's a chance I will overfill it! And you had better not ever bring this up to the doctor!"

Martha smiled at her victory. She made a quick trip to the ladies room, while Jerri got ready. Shortly, Martha was on the table of the examination room, with a catheter being carefully inserted into her urethra.

Jerri hooked up a tube to the catheter, and measured out a liter of water, adding a drop of the yellow color. She hooked up the bag to the tube, and let the water flow into Martha's bladder. As the bag emptied, Jerri held it higher and squeezed it slightly to apply pressure. Martha lay on the table, her bladder gradually distending. More and more water was forced into her. Jerri called out, "You're up to 600ml- how do you feel?" "Awfully bad - like I need to pee something awful! But keep going!"

Jerri continued the flow of water. Soon there was only 200ml left in the bag. "Martha - you sure you want me to do this? you've got 800 in you!" . Martha lay still, her fists clenched, her face contorted, her determination undeterred. "More - more, fast as you can!" 

"Martha, I've got to do it slowly, so you get stretched a little at a time. I can't do it fast. Anyway, after I get it all in, it's going to be up to you to hold it!" 

Jerri called the count at 900, then 950. Martha was clearly suffering. Tears streamed from her eyes. The pain was intense. Still the water flowed in. Finally Jerri announced, "All right, you've got a liter in you. Now let me deflate the catheter balloon and take it out. You better get your muscles ready to do some strong holding!" 

A couple of minutes later, Martha was sitting up, adjusting her clothes. She was almost in a daze. The pressure inside her was strong, and her whole bottom half seemed wracked with pain. She felt swollen and extremely uncomfortable.

Somehow she managed to get from the doctor's office to Tim's location, a couple of blocks away.

She arrived ahead of her appointment time, but Tim and Lucy were waiting. Martha told them, "I'm here, it's maybe a bit early, but I'm ready. I think I can prove to you I can do it!"

Lucy asked her to remove her clothes and hang them up, while Tim went for the pitcher. In a minute or two, she was naked before them, her badly swollen bladder protruding from her abdomen like a grapefruit. Her pubic hair was untrimmed, thick and dark. Suddenly she was embarrassed that her bush was showing; but she took the pitcher, and placed it in position. Her stream began to flow.

Both of them watched, astonished at the force of her stream and the quantity she discharged. It passed her 650 mark easily and the level continued to climb. It even passed 1,000; going to about 1,100. Then she stopped.

They congratulated her. She had done what she had promised. She was going to be their Mermaid Mom.

CHAPTER 4

To The Location

Thursday was spent insuring the mermaid models are had their final preparation instructions. They were to watch carefully their diets and fluid intake on Thursday, so as to minimize the possibilities of bladder or bowel problems Friday. They were advised to fast if they could, or eat only low-residue foods Thursday, and keep their liquid intake as low as reasonably possible. Friday they were to be at the studio at six A.M., ready for work. All they needed to bring was themselves, as the studio would provide dressers and make-up staff to prepare them.

Tim was at the studio Friday, to check in the models as they arrived. He met Marc Abramson, the Director, who would be in charge of the shooting. Marc was a brusque man with a lack of patience and an artistic temperament. He was dressed casually, wore his black hair at shoulder length, and carried sunglasses in his pocket. He spoke quickly to Tim. "The mermaid models are not my prime responsibility; my main interest is in the actors and the action. The girls just have to sit there. They have to do a little drinking, but other than that all I expect is that they sit in position and look pretty. I hope they're not bashful - I need to have a lot of breast display. I'll position them so their tops show up properly, but after I position them, it's your responsibility to see that they stay there and don't give us any trouble. I don't want to hear that they have any problems, so you take care of them. Got it?" He didn't wait for a reply, but went off quickly.

Tim checked his arriving mermaids. As soon as one was ready to be dressed, she was told to use the bathroom (her last chance for many hours), then to step behind a curtain which screened the dressing area, where she was to remove and leave all of her clothing. She was then to present herself, naked, to the two dressers, one male and one female, who put the girls into the mermaid costumes. 

To do this, she was required to lie on a low table, where her legs were loosely bound at the knees and ankles with a strong but soft cord, which was then tied securely. This allowed her to move her legs a little, but not to separate them more than an inch or two. A soft cloth was slipped between her inner thighs to prevent chafing. Next, she was rolled on her side while the back half of the formed tail costume was fitted to her. Then the front half was installed, and the two parts fastened together securely. The elastic top was then slipped up over her feet (now tail), and adjusted to her waist. The tail costume was then checked and a type of putty used to close the seams and any fasteners showing. She was then carefully lifted into a sitting, but reclining position on a low chair, where the make-up persons went to work on her hair, face, and body grooming. 

When each model was finished, she was inspected by the Mark, the director, and then allowed to hold a towel over her breasts while she was carried by two men into a large van waiting outside.

The process of preparing the girls went on schedule, and about a quarter to seven it was announced that they were ready to go. The six models, Paula, Renee, Jeanne, Inez, Susan, and Mermaid "Mom" Martha, were laid on seats in the van. The women were talkative as they prepared to depart, and this was really the first time they had to meet as a group. The favorite topic was the "hold it" ability they had to demonstrate, and which they knew would be crucially tested today. But at this point they were all made up, their legs were not yet tired, and their bladders were empty, so they could joke about it. They did appear a helpless lot, though, because they could not walk or move their lower bodies more than a very slight amount. The costumes looked fishy and flexible, but were in fact quite stiff, and they had been told to keep their legs as straight as possible to keep the costumes intact.

What became a convoy of five vehicles left from the studio, carrying the mermaids, the actors, camera staff, and the rest of the crew. Time rode with the models, with the male make-up specialist, there to do any field repairs required.

It was indeed a long ride. They were unsure of the route, and ran into traffic and a short detour. It was becoming a warm day, and the make-up man broke out cold soft drinks and passed them around. The mermaids, saying things about "living dangerously" or other bits of humor, accepted the drinks but drank them slowly.

It was well past nine when they arrived on the site, which involved a group of large rocks situated on the coastline, with the waves gently washing the lower areas but leaving the higher parts dry. Some time was consumed as the director chose the exact positioning of the mermaids. Then, one at a time, they were carried out of the van and put in place on the rocks. They were relieved of their towels, and their placing was carefully reviewed. Mark critically examined the placing of each mermaid, with special care that each had her breasts prominently exposed and free from any shadows. 

As he worked with Martha, he considered what pose to use. "What's your name?" he asked of her at first. " "Martha," she answered warmly. "OK, Martha, you're supposed to be the senior member of the clan. I need to be sure your hair shows clearly, so the gray comes through. Also, your top needs some special consideration. The other breasts are all high and firm, so they're not expected to move much. Yours need to show their, well, flexibility. I want you to twist back and forth several times, so I can see how much your jugs flop around. Try it!" Martha, a bit embarrassed by the request, nonetheless complied.

Mark gave her several tries, the instructed her, "When the camera's on you, I want to see those things swing and jiggle. So let 'em hang loose - don't try to keep them still. Understand?" Martha nodded.

With all of the preparations that seemed necessary, it was eleven before the actual shooting began. In the heat of the midday, the girls were beginning to complain that their legs were hot, and some were a bit concerned about the effects of the sun on their exposed tops. These were calmed, though, and the work went on. 

Tim asked them, between takes, how they were holding up. Martha replied clearly, "I'm fine - don't worry about me. My only real concern right now is the sunburn I'm going to get on what Mark calls 'my jugs'. They're not used to this much exposure!" 




Mermaid Movie



Jeanne was a touch less carefree. "Well," she said, "it would be nice if I had a bathroom built into this suit. I could use a good pee. But I'm OK - I'll last!" 

Inez was "A little chilly! What with no shirt and all this breeze!"

Renee just smiled and said, "No problems. Carry on!" 

The dressers and make up staff served as caterers for the group, and at times kept the group supplied with cold drinks and a few sandwiches. Many of the men were heavy drinkers of the sodas, but of the mermaids, only Renee seemed to want to imbibe deeply. The others avoided the drinks, or sipped them slowly when offered.

The staff worked diligently, and there were few breaks. The drinking scene was shot early in the activities, and for it each model was provided a champagne glass, served in the scene by the main actor. In actuality, a few times he give them the glasses, but for most of the shoots they were provided the glasses by one of the crew. The glasses were actually filled with ginger ale, which was the simulated champagne.

Mark was insistent that the drinking be real, for many close-ups were being taken. He explained that after the initial serving, the mermaids were to look as though they were delighted with the drinks, and were to look like they were enthusiastically downing glass after glass.

The director wanted both long shots and close-ups of the mermaids drinking the "champagne", and of the actor serving it, so many glasses were filled and refilled. as the day grew on, Tim was a bit concerned about how much the girls were having to drink. Quietly, he asked the "caterer" how much they had used. Cliff, the make-up man dispensing the ginger ale, admitted he was worried. "We've already run through eight liters, and no one's getting it but the mermaids," he commented. "He's doing an awful lot of shoots. I hope he gets through, soon - I brought a dozen bottles, and we've only got four left. If he needs more than that, we'll have to try using the stuff from the soft drink cans; I don't know where I could get any more around here! I'm getting worried - I never know when this guy is going to be satisfied!"

Tim did a bit of mental calculation. It was now nearly two in the afternoon, and the girls had been in the costumes eight hours. Eight liter bottles, spread among six mermaids, averaged out to well over a liter for each. His average mermaid had been drinking the stuff over the last two hours, now adding up to over a liter each, not counting the other drinks they had had earlier, and he knew none of them had urinated since six in the morning. They must all have very full bladders by now. Nonetheless, the director showed no signs of nearing completion. They had actually been shooting only three hours; the schedule called for six.

Tim shared his concerns with Cliff. "You know, I'm not worried about running out of the stuff, I'm much more concerned about another problem. Over a full liter has gone into each of those girls, and not a one of them has had a bathroom break for eight hours. How do you suppose they feel?" 

"Glad I'm not them", was the response.

Mark approached the mermaids, saying, "Look, ladies, you can't get tired now. Keep those smiles up! You're supposed to be having a great time! Let's see some enthusiasm!" Turning to Tim, he commented, "Gosh it's hard to keep them in the mood! You'd think they would enjoy all this time lying on the shore and just feeling the breeze. It can't be too cold for them. They must tire easily!"

Tim answered, calmly, "They're probably getting full bladders. They haven't had a bathroom break since six A. M., and they know they won't be getting one".

Mark was impatient. "Comes with the job. They're supposed to be models. They should know how to stay put and pose!" With that he wandered off to the camera crew. 

More takes were made. Mark was difficult to satisfy. Good thing the weather is holding, Tim thought. If we had a miserable day, Mark would be impossible to live with.

As three o'clock approached, Tim took a can of drink from Cliff. As he opened it, Cliff suddenly cried out, "Gee, look at that!" he pointed to the mermaids, in between shoots, all six of them noisily calling and jeering at one of the camera crew. Tim rushed over to see what the commotion was about. It told him a lot about how the mermaids were feeling.

The camera crews had also had a long day, and no bathrooms were around. A lot of soft drinks had been consumed. Usually the men would slip away behind a rock or a truck to relieve themselves, but one cameraman was apparently held to his post by some compelling duty, and had turned aside, in full view of the girls, opened his pants and started peeing. 

The girls had a right to be offended by his exposure, Tim surmised, but as he approached he realized that it was not the exposure they were screaming about. It was simply his insensitivity in doing in front of them something all of them desperately wanted to do, but could not.

"Do it for me, too!" yelled Susan.

"And me! Twice for me!" screamed Inez..

Renee added her noisy observation, "Men are weaklings! Women have to hold it! Men can't!"

"You ought to be one of us" thundered Paula.

"You ought to have to do what we have to" Jeanne yelled. "Men! Insensitive pigs!" 

Only Martha, eldest of the group, seemed to be quiet. 

Their rage told Tim what he feared; their endurance was being sorely tested. With hours to go!

After the cameraman returned to his usual duties and calm was restored. Tim walked over to the mermaids during a break in the shooting. He told them, "I think the drinking scene is finished - at least I hope. They're running out of ginger ale, anyway. Hey, I know this is rough for you; that's we tested you. How are you doing?" He checked each of the models, starting with Martha.

Martha was feeling miserable. Inwardly, she was having second thoughts about the wisdom of her trick to get the assignment. To Tim, she could say only "I'm holding on - just wish I had a few more muscles to hold with. I wish they could have built relief valves or maybe diapers into these suits! I hope I don't have to drink another glass - I think I got more than anyone else with all those shoots of him trying to get 'Mama Mermaid' drunk." She looked down at her breasts. "I didn't really think he'd be impressed by these, but he's made me flop them around a lot. Right now I wish they were tanks to store ginger ale!"

Jeanne was specific. "I forgot to bring my spare bladder. The one I'm using filled up a couple of hours ago. Man, you don't know how stretched it is. It hurts; and it's going to get worse!" 

Inez just shook her head. She made a face, and pointed to her abdominal area with a finger.

Renee was smiling. Tim remembered her capabilities. She quietly told him, "I'm putting a good face on it, but its getting to hurt. I think I can handle it, but I'm worried about these other girls who aren't as stretchable as I am. Especially Martha over there. I think she's really in deep pain."

Paula was resolute. "I'm trying. I don't know if it can hold it till we finish, but I'm trying!"

Tim was hoping they could get through it. He heard Mark say something about having enough takes of the drinking, and to be sure they had the champagne glasses out of sight.

Cliff came around again with drinks. He got takers from the camera crew, but only jeers from the mermaids. 

"Do you take returns?" Jeanne called to him, "I've got a gallon or two I'd like to give you back!" 

Even the director was concerned. To Tim Marc asked, "Are they OK? We said six hours, you know. Some of them seem to have doubts. I assume you told them what they had to do?"

"Oh, they know all right. But there are human limitations. They will reach limits. We need to get through as fast as possible. " 

"I want you to apologize to them on my behalf, for that clod of a cameraman. He should have known better than to expose himself like that in front of six women! I told him if ever tries that again, he's through!"

"You know," Tim tried to tell him, "they weren't as upset about him exposing himself as they were about what he was doing. He was really rubbing it in! Making a point of relieving himself, when none of them are able to! Every one of those girls out there probably had a much fuller bladder than he had, and none of them is allowed any relief at all! That's what got them upset!" 

Mark was a bit exasperated. "All afternoon you've been telling me about female bladder problems! Tell them to hold it! That's what they're being paid for! I don't want to hear any more about it!" With that he charged off again.

Tim could do nothing but shrug. He was keeping his fingers crossed that the models could finish the shoot. It was getting harder and harder to keep them smiling for the camera. Off camera, between takes, they were beginning to show contorted faces and clenched fists, with obviously fidgeting of arms and even legs, under the tail costumes. A couple of times Mark had called to them to keep the tails still, because of the twitching motions of their bound legs.

3:45 P. M. A take was in process, scanning the mermaids. They were five hours into the six hour shooting schedule. Suddenly, with cameras running, a cry came from Jeanne. She was sobbing, screaming "I can't - I just can't!", tears running down her quite unsmiling face. All eyes fell on her. The whole front of her tail was quivering, the outer surface moving rapidly. Then pieces came off. It was starting to deteriorate. Fragments dropped, then a large piece fell off and a large gush of liquid poured out, washing away more fragments. Parts of her bound legs came into view, and liquid was soaking her legs and what was left of the costume. Make-up was being washed off. 

It was obvious that Jeanne had lost control of her bladder, and its contents were now washing away her paper tail and the carefully applied make-up that faired it to her body. She looked a mess, and continued her sobs and tears.

Mark was neither sympathetic nor amused. "Get her out of there! Clean up that rock!" His exclamations was punctuated by a series of obscenities, after which he yelled to the girls, "The rest of you better be able to keep control of yourselves! We have to go on now with five of you! I hope the rest of you can do better! There had better not be another problem like this!"

He fumed at Tim, "You were supposed to provide models who could stay in character for six hours!" He walked off, cursing and fuming.

Jeanne was carried away from the rock, her urine dripping from her legs and what was left of her costume. The men peeled off the remnants of the tail, and cut her legs free, then left her beside the van that had brought them in. At this point Jeanne was naked, standing beside the van, in tears, her eyes hidden by her hands. She didn't seem as concerned by her nakedness as much as she was embarrassed at her failure and the humiliating spectacle she had provided. 

Tim went to her and tried to comfort her. She looked up at him, and muttered, "I'm sorry! I should have been able to do it! I just couldn't hold it in any longer! When I started to leak, I couldn't stop it until the tail got soaked and started to fall apart. By the time I got it stopped, it was too late. I 'm sorry!"

Tim tried to give her some words of comfort, but she wasn't really listening. She cut him off, "I still ache down there! I did get it stopped, but, I might as well finish, it doesn't matter, now!" With that, she sank to a squat, and poured out a forceful jet from her bladder onto the ground. It continued for half a minute or so, then trailed off, leaving a large puddle on the ground in front of her. She turned, still sobbing softly, and climbed into the van, taking a seat by herself. There were no clothes for her. She didn't care any more. She lay on the seat, naked, alone, in tears.

The remaining five mermaids were clearing showing their agony, except perhaps for Renee, who seemed to be able to cover up her needs best of all. Mark was disgusted with them, but went on with his remaining takes, using the five that were left.

Tim wondered who would be next to lose control. What was being required of them was well beyond what he had expected. The drinking scene had been shot early in the sequence, and had resulted in their consuming a lot more than he had expected; but, worse, they had to consume it earlier which meant holding it longer. He hoped they were near the end.

Inez was the next to show signs of failure. At the end of a take, she called out, "that's got to be the last for me - if I have to wait any longer, I'm going to lose it just like Jeanne did!" Paula was nodding in agreement. Martha was shaking her head, her face contorted, her breasts quivering.

The time was about 4:20. They had now gone over ten hours without a bathroom break; less than the twelve Tim had expected, but with a much greater liquid intake than he had anticipated. How much longer could they last? One had already failed, and it looked like two more were right at the edge.

Tim pleaded with Mark for an end to the shooting. Mark was not ready. "I need about another hour to finish it; and I need the mermaids in position. I can do with these five, but...."his voice trailed off in thought. Suddenly he called his dressers together. "We got a problem. The one mermaid - that one," he said, pointing to Inez, "is about to spring a leak. I've got to keep them together long enough to finish up, maybe another hour or so. The others seem to be hanging in there, but this one's a problem. Can you do some quick surgery on that costume, to empty her, then repair it so it'll hold for an hour?"

The two had a quick discussion, then went over to Inez with a bag of their equipment.

The female dresser was sympathetic to Inez, "Kid, hold in there! They 're putting you through torture, and we're going to try to help you relieve yourself. Interested?" 

Inez gave her an enthusiastic affirmation. The woman positioned Inez on her side, then began feeling gently along the front of her costume. She took a small knife and a pair of scissors, and began to cut a small circular hole in the front, just below where she judged Inez's crotch to be. Meanwhile, her helper called for two men to come over and help. 

The woman felt carefully inside the costume, her hand touching Inez's private areas and palpating her abdomen slightly. "Bob, you ought to feel this - bet you never ran into this before!", she said to her colleague. At her request, his hand slipped up through the hole and felt upwards. Inez winced and squealed "No - not there - don't push it!!". He looked at the lady dresser, "She's hard as a rock, and all swollen! No surprise she's making such a fuss! Here, let me help.." his hand adjusted the edges of the hole, folding the paper material back a bit. Together, they looked through it, where her labia were exposed to the strong sunlight, and her pubic hair showed through. "Let's try it now," he said, "We need to lift her up and hold her face down, so nothing will fall into the tail; it's got to all come out the hole." The three men picked her up, one holding each arm, and one her feet, encased in the tail. They held her about at the level of their waists, her face down, her uncovered breasts hanging.

Bob bent down and crawled under her, holding a small spatula. He slipped it into the hole, trying to get in the space between her legs. It didn't fit. "Use your hand, stupid, a little pee won't hurt you" , his female colleague anxiously instructed him. He placed his hand with two fingers wedged between her legs, his palm facing the upper part of her body, ready to deflect her discharge from entering the tail. "Let go! Now!" they shouted at Inez. 

Inez was a strange sight. Being held in a prone position, her naked breasts hanging below her, the men supporting her by her arms and feet, and a male hand slipped into the small hole cut around her crotch, she held her head up, bending it back. She looked like some kind of fish being dragged from the sea. She could feel Bob's hand in its very intimate location, squeezed between her bound legs. Her muscles were clenched while she was suffering severe bladder cramps. She tried to release them. It took a bit of time.

Bob felt her urine splatter his hand. He tried to deflect it down, to clear the tail. A torrent of fluid poured out of her, falling to the ground below. Inez felt strange. Never had she had to urinate in such a strange posture, held by three men, with another man using his hand to deflect her stream, and while the whole crew watched. She was looking straight at the cameraman. Suddenly, she realized, he was filming her! She was tempted to scream a protest, but the cramps were subsiding and her pain was diminishing. She just felt too good to complain about anything. 

They held her for several minutes while she urinated. When she was through, they put her down, and the dressers began to repair the damage to the costume, trying to recover the hole and mask the seams.

"Hey, how about us?" wailed Susan. Paula looked on with an eager face, almost whispering, "Could you do me, too, please?" Only Renee seemed indifferent. Martha looked on, a bit farther away. but said nothing.

Mark made a clear announcement. "We haven't got time to do you all! We're just trying to keep this one from being a basket case! Let's get back to the shooting and we'll get through, soon!"

They went on. Inez was now relaxed and smiling. The others were gritting their teeth and trying to hold on. Time ticked slowly.

Finally came the great moment. At a few minutes after five, it was announced that the camera work was over. The men were ordered to collect the girls and take them back to the van.

Inez, in no hurry, now, waited, relaxed.

Two men picked up Susan, and another two carried Paula. Renee awaited her turn.

Martha, the Mermaid Mom, was beyond waiting. As the first two mermaids were being taken to the van, Martha reached down and began to tear away the fishtail costume. She made short work out it, and somehow she worked the cord off her ankles. With her knees still corded together, she then worked herself to her feet, turning her side to the camera location. She bent over, standing with her ankles a foot apart but her knees still bound, her breasts swinging below her with every move, as she tried to free her knees. Finally she slipped the cord, and stood up, spreading her freed legs wide, and with full face to the camera released a great gush of urine. It poured out of her like a water hose, spraying and gushing, running down her legs. Prominently displayed was her thick black bush of untrimmed pubic hair. Ecstatic with release, she stood and raised her arms as if in a victory signal; displaying full frontal nudity to the entire crew, who simply stood and looked. Seeing Tim, she cried out, "I knew I could do it! I told you I could! And I did, I DID!" 

The display over, Martha made her way to the van in complete nudity, her legs wet with her urine, proudly twisting her frame and swinging her breasts as she went. "Last chance to see 'em, guys!" she called out, this 56 year old lady with the graceful body and magnificent gray hair, showing herself off as if she was a teenager.

Back at the van, the crew cut away the costumes from Paula and Renee, leaving them naked, although they were quickly offered towels to cover themselves. Without waiting for a towel, Paula immediately found a spot near the van, squatted and urinated profusely.

Renee took a seat in the van and covered herself with a towel. She sat strangely quiet, not smiling, squirming just a bit, as the van started up for its return trip. About fifteen minutes into the trip, Paula looked at her intently for a moment, then asked her directly, "You still haven't peed, have you? The only one of us who hasn't! You trying to prove something?"




Mermaid Movie



"Maybe", Renee answered, softly. Then added, "I just want to see if I can last until we get back - maybe I can!" 

While the trip continued, the women talked quietly among themselves, mostly exhausted from the long day. Renee got little attention, but her expression conveyed the pain she was feeling. Several times someone asked her if she wanted to make a stop, but always she shook her head. 

An hour into the trip, Renee was rubbing her abdomen visibly, her teeth clenched, her body straining with all her might to keep her muscles tight. Suddenly, she called to to driver, "Please, make a quick stop. I've got to get out for a minute! Please- "

The other girls began to smirk a bit. Renee was finally having to give up. The driver stopped, and she moved quickly to the door, leaving behind her towel. With no attempt at modesty, she stood erect outside the van in he waning sunlight, spread her legs, placed her hands behind her neck, and spewed forth a gushing torrent of urine onto the ground in front of her. Everyone was watching.

After what seemed a minute or so, she turned to the van, observing that everyone was watching her, and announced, "So I didn't make it - I came a darn site better than anyone else did! And I almost made it all the way back! I may not be the prettiest model in the lot, but no one else could hold it like I did!" Proudly, she threw her hair back as she finished her stream, then slipped back into the van and collapsed onto her seat. Two of the men applauded. The other women just looked at each other. One shrugged.

They returned to the temporary studio. It was now getting dark, and the day's work was done. Six women, all wrapped in towels, walked back into the room where they had been dressed, and retrieved their clothes. Tim gave them all a warm thank-you for the work that day and the pain he knew they had all endured. 

"All except Renee", Inez was quick to add, "I think she loved it!"

Renee just smiled.

Martha dressed while Tim watched. "Have your last look - I think I'm getting a bit old for this. I wouldn't want to go through it again. I'm past the point of having a body suitable for showing off..", then stopped, hesitated, and thoughtfully added, "but even if it was one last fling, it was fun! Even if I almost failed the bladder test! You know, when it was over and I could peel off that costume, I was hurting so bad I didn't care who saw me. If I hadn't been so full and hurting so bad, I couldn't have done it. I just had to get out of it and let everything go!"

"Martha", Tim replied, "You were great! If you had been twenty, you couldn't have put on a better show!" He extended his hand for a final congratulatory handshake.

Lucy, who met them on the return, looked to Tim. "Did it go OK?" she inquired, adding thoughtfully, "I'm sure glad I wasn't one of the mermaids!"

"Great show, Lucy, great show. Even the Mermaid Mom - no., especially the Mermaid Mom. But let's never do this again. OK?"



Mermaid Pond



DISCLAIMERS: Mermaid Pond is a fictional place and not based on any factual location. Crystal is a one-shot fictional character. This story does not feature any actual mermaids.

beep...beep...beep...

The alarm on the watch pressed against my ear dragged me into wakefulness. Lifting my cheek off of the sand, I took a moment to stand up and get my bearings. I was lying on the ground at the bottom of the cliff that frames Mermaid Pond. I was all alone. I was wearing a luminous watch and a bikini and had nothing else with me. It was so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. The time was 5:32 on a Wednesday morning.

In short, everything was going smoothly for me. My name is Crystal, and I was a twenty-one year old woman on a mission.

Half-conscious with eyes wide open (as if it mattered), I climbed over large, smooth rocks along my memorized route to the lake. Was I scared? Yes, but I had three things going for me. First, I like being scared. Second, I was doing this for something I believed in. And third, I had done this close to a hundred times already. I knew every boulder, every crack and crevasse, every footstep and handhold, better than I knew the back of my hand. I had faith in my abilities. Coming to an opening in the rock about the size of a glove compartment, I undid my top, slid my bikini bottom off and stuffed them in for safekeeping. Where I was going, they'd only get in the way. Naked now, I continued climbing up and over the rocks, until I slid down the last one and into Mermaid Pond, my feet stopped by a familiar level stone, five feet down.

C-cold! The water was cold! Not a surprise, but still a shock. THAT woke me the rest of the way, and I stood in the water, hopping on one foot then the other, acclimating myself to the temperature. It was summer, so it only took a couple minutes; besides, Mermaid Pond never really got too cold. The lake was huge, roughly circular, with a high cliff on the west side, and a long, shallow beach stretching out on the other three. Those three sides were great for tourism, since they had very gentle downward grades.

Swimmers could easily go a hundred feet out with no risk of drowning and, as I just said, it never really got very cold. The west side was different. The cliff was high, slippery, dangerous, sharp, and fenced off. The water there had rocks near the surface of the water to kill divers, and deep water to drown in. But I knew the geography of the cliff. I knew the rocks, the water, the currents, and the weather.

I looked at my watch; 5:37. Through the mist over the lake, I could see a couple of the lights down in Mermaid Pond (the town), but not enough for me to see by. Summer has the disadvantage that it gets light early. No matter the time of year, I had to be ready the moment it got light, and that meant climbing down the day before and sleeping at the bottom of the cliff. 

I waited. Slowly, slowly, the sky to the east began to lighten. Slowly, things around me became visible, starting with the top of the cliff above me. There! I could see Mermaid Rock now. I took a breath, bent my legs, and kicked off for it.

I forgot to mention Mermaid Rock, sorry. It's sort of round and fairly uninteresting. It juts about five feet up out of the lake and is within easy swimming distance of where I was. Not that hard to swim to from the beaches, either. I think it took me about half a minute to reach the rock. There were fish in the water, but none of them brushed against me this time. Reaching below the waterline at the rock, I gathered up the package I'd stashed there on Monday; this was not a casual endeavor on my part. The package was simple but essential: sunscreen, a hairbrush, a large white bath towel, and bright green sheer stockings with garter belt. Holding one end, I threw the heavy towel up over my head, and heard it land with a satisfying SPLAP over the Rock. Climbing up, I wrapped the garter belt around my hips, slipped on the stockings, clipped them to the belt, folded the towel in half, smoothed it out over the rock and sat down facing the rising sun.

I felt a shiver go down my spine, both because of the chill (somewhat lessened by humidity) and because of the thrill of being out there, naked and exposed. I squeezed a dollop of sunscreen into my fingertips and rolled over onto my stomach, keeping my knees together like any proper mermaid would. I worked it into the skin on my thighs and buttocks before sitting up again, knees bent and feet tucked demurely together. I was taking things slowly since I had all day to be here. I looked out at the town. I could see the shapes of the buildings now, which meant that shortly people would start being able to see me. Actually, framed by the reflecting light off the cliff, I was probably already visible. Taking a deep breath, I arched my back, pushed out my breasts, and leaned over to apply more sunscreen. The fronts of my thighs and hips, all around my pussy, my stomach and lower back. I did my upper back and neck, my ears, face, and stomach, ending with my size C breasts. I placed the bottle of sunscreen under a corner of the towel for later use; experience has taught me that sunscreen only lasts a few hours.

I draped the ends of my hair over my shoulder and onto my breasts and started brushing them. I needed a ritual to do while sitting there, something to keep my mind occupied. I kept my back arched and my tits pushed forward. Part of this project I had undertaken was maintaining a constant state of being sexy and presentable and I was going to be on constant display for several hours if all went well. When I had done all I could with my hair draped forward, I pushed it back behind me, leaned far back so that the tips dipped into the fresh water of the lake, and started on the top half of my hair, my left arm supporting my weight and my face towards the sky. Once a person's hair gets used to being brushed regularly, their scalp starts to itch if they slacken off. It took me maybe half an hour to finish my ritual. I set my brush aside, but kept my current pose, back arched. I supported myself with both arms, looked up and felt the morning sun light up my body.

With a start, I realized that I had dozed off. The sun had risen in the sky, there were people already on the beach-slash-beaches, and I had a funny *blech* taste in my mouth from sleeping in the sun like that. It was already 9:31. Lying on my stomach, I leaned forward (east), and cupped my hands to take a drink of water, more to clean the taste out of my mouth than because of thirst. The water in Mermaid Pond is very clean. One of the nearby lakes got polluted and all the fish there died. We have several of the same species living here, so we passed some extra laws to protect the purity of this lake. For one thing, boats aren't allowed here anymore, since they disturb the fish and always leave at least a little oil behind. It's hurt tourism, but helped ensure my privacy. I mean, anonymity.

I gargled, spat, and repositioned myself looking north this time, legs curled in front of me, and pantomimed brushing my hair some more. Varying my poses gave people variety if they chose to look at me (I wasn't forcing anyone), and who wants to stay in the same position forever? I took a quick look down at my pussy, indecently framed by the green stockings and garter belt. My hair was blonde, but my pussy hairs were dark brown, almost black. I kept them lightly trimmed into a triangle that fits properly into most swimsuits, but isn't so shaved that I feel like I don't have a bush. Women who shave themselves down there... I've always considered it to be like unnecessary breast reduction. Where's the fun of getting rid of your "naughty areas?"

Time passed. My watch beeped noon. I took up my sunscreen and reapplied. Looking out at the beach, I saw the tourists and locals sitting on the sand and splashing in the water. Someone looked like they were waving at me so I waved back. There was a lesser fog bank over the river, so I couldn't see them very clearly. This was actually good, since it meant they couldn't see me clearly either. Not enough to identify me, at least. I check the weather reports regularly, so I knew in advance what the visibility that day would be like. Not rainy or overcast, but just the right amount of mist over the lake. There's generally about two good days per month and I try to come out here once a month, so it works out. Maybe if I kept doing this they'll start to call this "mermaid weather."

The town of Mermaid Pond has indecent exposure laws that outlaw public nudity such as, oh, sitting in the middle of Mermaid Pond naked like I was doing. I was breaking the law doing this and could go to jail or be fined if the authorities ever got around to arresting me. This risk was real, and though I wasn't worried about the legal punishments, (A fine? A few days in jail? I'd survive it), I preferred that people just not know. I was really curious about how much my friends and neighbors suspected, but that wasn't something I could just ask, was it?

I finished the coat of sunscreen, rubbing the remaining smear into my breasts, and waited. I take yoga to keep in shape. Staying in pretty much the same place for hours is more difficult than it looks. 1:33. I turned to face south-east and put on another layer of sunscreen. There seemed to be about twice as many people visiting as last summer, which was reassuring for me. I've seen the website for the town and read four places where the town's "mermaid" was referred to. I've seen pictures of "the mermaid" for sale in town, just blurry enough to protect my anonymity, but with black bars over my breasts and pussy. Some of the pictures even had "swimsuits" inked onto them to avoid making the pictures "pornographic." As if my nipples would have been clear anyway.

Sooner or later, somebody would complain about me and the police would have to do something. The more benefit my exhibitionism did, the less likely it was that the cops would care enough to make an arrest. Time was on my side.

Why was I doing this? Aside from helping local tourism, my older sister was trying to get pregnant. She'd been talking about it for years, and she wanted to be able to breast-feed her baby as much as possible. Bottle-feeding her baby in public would involve either using a baby formula, which isn't as healthy, or "milking" herself in advance, which just sounds creepy. I'm certain my sister isn't the only woman to want to breast-feed her baby in public and for her sake, the laws in Mermaid Pond would have to be challenged. If she can point her finger at Mermaid Rock and demand to know why some anonymous slut is allowed to parade herself in front of the tourists while she isn't allowed to feed her baby properly and in public, then maybe she'd have a good chance of succeeding.

Someone was swimming closer to where I was. It looked like a man, wearing green swim trunks. College-aged? I didn't cover up, but did turn my head to make it very clear that I was indeed looking at him. It wasn't just a case of swimming in my general direction, he was heading towards me. He was getting closer.

People have tried to approach me before, and I always responded the same way. I placed my brush and sunscreen in the center of the towel and started folding it up. "Wait!" I heard him call out. "Who are you?"

I wrapped the towel around my two items and slid into the water. It was almost two o-clock; I'd put in a full day. The extra erotic look that the garter belt gave me wasn't really what I wanted, I'd have preferred just the stockings, but I didn't want them sliding off of me while I swam. That was one mistake I wouldn't be making a first time. The towel however, dragged me down, slowing me and keeping my body below surface level, but it was for less than a minute. I was still fast enough to make it to the safety of the rocks and hide before he could find or catch me. I hid between three boulders and waited, breathing deeply and trying to keep quiet just... in... case... he had followed me.

I couldn't afford to have trying to catch the mermaid become a "cool" thing for people to do. The mermaid spooked easily and swam off if approached, that was the rule. I had to take my towel and stuff with me. He would get yelled at by his friends and maybe some locals and he wouldn't have any souvenirs to show off. Naked and vulnerable, I waited between the rocks for a few minutes. Rolling up the towel, I wrung it out, wincing at the spattering sound the water from it made as it fell on the sand. I listened for a few more minutes, but didn't hear anything. I liked the sensation of being scared, but I didn't know karate or anything. Actually, there really wasn't any reason for me to stay around. I left my towel to dry on a rock and booked. Wending my way through the labyrinth of rocks to the crack in the cliffs I usually used, I climbed my way to the top of the cliff. I wasn't visible from outside, and my motorcycle would be waiting for me behind a tree at the top.

I had reached my motorcycle and almost mounted it when I remembered that I had left my swimsuit down below and was wearing only... well, you know.

I'm not a ditzy blonde, okay? This really was the first time this had happened. I had gotten comfortable being dressed like that down on the lake and just... well, enough excuses. I probably wouldn't be seen riding back home, it was only a few blocks, but the context was different. It just wouldn't have been proper. I hid there behind the tree, my brain not working for... a while. An hour? Finally around three, my brain kicked into gear and I took off my stockings. Wrapping one of them around my chest twice and tying it in front, I made a makeshift top for myself. The other one I just kind of wrapped around my waist and prayed.

I don't think anyone saw my riding bottomless back to the studio apartment I rent behind my grandparents' house. I parked my bike, rushed inside (the curtains and blinds were already closed), and got myself something to eat. I can go a full day without food if I have to, but so what; I was famished! The only reason I hadn't packed a lunch for my vigil was that I usually need to go to the bathroom shortly after eating.

A short while later, I was showered off and sitting on my bed, legs dangling off the edge, fully naked once again. I reached under my pillow and took out my bright pink vibrating dildo, "Edward." Holding it between my breasts, I let it get warm before holding it up at eye level. I addressed it, "Do you know my secret?"

I waggled it, indicating a "Yes" nod.

"You do? Oh my. And are you going to tell anybody?"

Another "Yes" nod.

"Well, oh dear. Is there... I hope there's something I can do to change your mind? I'll do ANYTHING to keep it a secret."

Yet another "Yes" nod and I pressed it against my breasts again and let it "push me down" on my back. I slid Edward down my stomach, over my pubic bone and slowly eased it into my pussy, all the way to the hilt. 

"Oh! No foreplay? Naughty boy." I gently eased the dial to the lowest setting and arched my neck at the pleasurable tingling. It was actually kind of uncomfortable, but I was feeling good and I wanted it bad.

I would be busy for some time.

THE END