Sacrificed to the Sea: mermaids .. monsters .. men Page 9

She inhaled through her nose.

  For all of a long, few, violently quiet moments, she had him, owned him.

  This was power.

  She flicked her tongue over his shaft, around as far as it could reach, then circled back, while sucking, hard.

  “Bitch, mermaid bitch.” Gasping, Wolfgang met her eyes and the look in those was the very definition of foreboding. “What you get for tempting me…”

  He popped from her mouth, slid out in a second, and hauled her to her feet by the chain.

  She protested at the suddenness.

  Spun around, she was hoisted partway onto the bench and before the metal sink, with her breasts over the edge hanging into the space of the sink… Poised there, forced to be still. She put her palms to the bottom of the sink.

  He wrapped the chain of her leash around and around the faucets, then stepped back and sighed.

  “Damn. What a fucking sight. Don’t touch the chain, unless you want your hands tied, and a spanking. Or worse.”

  The threats were new. Should she speak? No.

  She dearly wished to see what he would do next.

  His pants went flying to the side. Reflected light from the pool wrote slurred sunbeams on the walls, the white cupboards, on metal. His shadow loomed as he stepped in. He gripped one cheek of her ass, exposing her then pausing…

  A moist stroke of his finger between her lips. One slick, tunneling exploration with that finger, a single pump then withdrawal…

  He entered her with an abrupt slam.

  Cock filled her from pussy to overwhelmed mind. Her mouth gaped.

  God. She forgot to breathe.

  Again he halted, fully deep, and he hissed through his teeth, then slammed in again. The thrust pushed her against the sink, and she grabbed the faucet so as not to headbutt it. Swearing, he yanked himself out. He paced behind her while she stayed there, tied by the neck, with her pussy pulsing rhythmically.

  Wanting him.

  At the spasm of her inner walls, she shut her eyes, licked her lips – remembering his taste and how his cock felt. She choked out a sound and squirmed her ass to the side. The underside of breasts lay against the sink’s cold steel. Her nipples were pebble hard.

  He paced again, slapped her ass once, stepped away. “I should jerk off on you. You deserve it.” His hard fingers stroked down her spine and she squeaked.

  “Please?” That was begging.

  “You need me?”

  She gulped. “Yes.”

  “No.”

  The chaos of desire had her, was tugging at her, making her need, making her want. The cramping of her pussy was close to painful.

  And that one slap had woken small prickles of heat that only fed her lusts.

  “Not coming yet. Neither of us. Hell, no.” Wolfgang removed his shirt but retrieved and pulled on his pants.

  After undoing the chain from the faucet, he tugged it and walked off. Again, she followed, naked, and with her lower parts feeling oddly squishy, wet.

  He brought her to a bedroom, a room she recognized mainly from pictures on TV because the luxury was alien. The cleanness of these times when light was at their beckoning, windows were perfected glass, floors were not dirty, and walls were painted in fresh, bright hues.

  Her mother’s house had been, she admitted, a darkened hovel compared to likely any home within a thousand, thousand miles of this one. And yet humans seemed as flawed as ever and all they did was throw garbage in the sea and war on each other. The TV had showed that too.

  They had also found new fetishes.

  How rich was Wolfgang?

  The right-hand wall, which she’d not at first noticed, was hung with whips and black leather masks, black-and-red harnesses, and other things she was certain were not meant for horses.

  She tilted her head, somewhat overcome. And those other penis-like objects lined up on a shelf?

  Dildos. Of course. Some even had veins. But they were the colors of the rainbow as well as the commoner color in here for such things – black.

  “Lie down and stay there while I fill your holes with multi-cock.” The amused tone gave way his intent – abusing her with something here. He pushed her shoulder while pulling on the chain leash, and she lay belly down on this bed with the crisp, shiny gray sheets that sat in the middle of the room.

  Anything sexual would do her at the moment, and she knew he would eventually stick the real thing in her. She tempted him too much.

  She shifted so her knees were on the floor and wriggled her bottom, still hoping.

  Once he’d collected something from the wall, he dropped to the bed beside her then hauled her over his lap. She had to balance over him, hands on the floor and her toes on the other side of him, dug into the rug.

  “First, I have to do this.” He smacked his hand onto her butt, twice, then began to spank her harder, regularly, almost in time to the cadence of his words.

  “I’m doing research on you.” Slam. “And you try to mess with me?” Smack.

  A startled squeak escaped her.

  She had to admit it was an interesting way to punctuate his speech.

  He had her yelping, squeaking, and even squealing, though every blow seemed calculated to hurt but not injure and when he stopped the hum of the burn sneaked between her legs. It radiated in an amazing way. His cock was hard too, for she felt it under her. She let go of his leg that she’d grabbed to steady herself.

  She twisted her neck so she could look up at him.

  “Stay,” he repeated. “You’ll want to hang on again for this.”

  As if to make it mandatory, he took one hand behind her back and pinned it there.

  Another smack rained down. This one was fire – a broad, plank-hard slam from some object.

  “You need to listen next time? Yes? This is a paddle. Should I stop?” But he added three more smacks with the paddle while she wriggled and tried to escape. “Stop moving or this continues.”

  Panting, she glared at him, sideways, and he wasn’t letting her go.

  “Will you obey, miss mermaid? No biting. No tempting me. No seducing unless I okay it?”

  Or else more paddling? Little did he realize the aftereffects had her inner engine running even hotter. The pain had converted within, turned to a simmering heated mix that made her ache for more of him.

  He couldn’t tame a siren.

  But she loved the play. The way he’d dragged her hand to her back. The narrow-eyed study of her that said he knew more than he said. Between them, there seemed an unspoken contract.

  He knew she could still kill him. They both had their weapons.

  She nodded, agreeing, submitting to this.

  When he brought his hand low and offered it to her mouth, she licked the back, his knuckles, sucked on the tip of one finger, then drew the knuckle into her mouth and nibbled while they exchanged more looks. Seductive ones, of course.

  His chuckle was low. He tasted of man, which – along with everything that had happened – made her let out a throaty sigh. There was pleading in that sound. How long would he make her wait?

  “One more, for the blowjob on my fingers.” Then he drew back his paddle, high, and gave her one last stinging smack that felt as if it should rattle her teeth.

  A moment of stillness, before the paddle clattered to the floor and he plunged fingers into her cunt and kept them there. She arched as much as was allowed by her position and by her hand being stuck behind her.

  His fingers wriggled.

  “Ffffuck,” she whispered. She didn’t swear often, but this…

  “Good mermaid. Now, this.” The fingers withdrew and something large was thrust into her where they had been. It was left in place, stretching her. The placing of it inside had somehow also jammed a different and softer prong onto her clit region.

  She frowned, kneading the floor then grasping his leg. He still had her wrist.

  “What is that?”

  “A vibrating dildo, of sorts. This too.” He probed her ass
hole with some pre-lubricated thing, wormed it inside. It was smaller than the other, for which she was grateful.

  Then she heard a soft click, two, and the dildos burst into lustful song, playing with her down there, buzzing. Rendered speechless, she bent her back striving to get more then less then more as her body found the strange vibrations painfully arousing, until—

  Bliss. The explosion of a climax rammed through her and held her in thrall.

  Shuddering, oblivious for those nirvanic seconds, she discovered she was moaning and still held over his lap, and she was staring at the floor.

  These devices were demonic.

  He dumped her off his lap into a kneeling position, though at first she had to hold the side of the bed or risk collapse. Ignoring her state, he dressed her in a harness, snugged things down, buckling, tightening, wedging those dildo things inside her ever deeper. The straps went around and under her breasts, tucked between her legs, went around her waist.

  And there were metal bits here and there dangling from it.

  “Am I a horse?” she said, straightening, but still on her knees.

  “There.” He patted her butt. “A mermaid pet horse? Maybe?” Wolfgang snorted.

  His eyes glinted when he pulled her to her feet, and his voice was low and dedicated. “A leathered-up girl with butt plug and cunt plug?” He rubbed his shadowed chin then tucked back a swathe of his black hair that had fallen over his eye.

  The chain and collar were employed again as he led her over to the sofa. He cleared his throat, walking ahead of her nonchalantly, but she’d seen his dick. That erection must be bothering him.

  Raffaela smiled, wishing she could do what she used to when she lived on the streets – take a bet on what he’d do with it.

  “Those things I stuck in you, I can press a button on this remote.” He showed another rectangle like the one that turned on the TV. “And it will switch on.”

  He pressed. She squeaked and folded over in shock at that invading buzz on her clit, and… the others inside her.

  “So”—he swung around, walking backward for a few steps until his legs hit the back of the nearest sofa—“So… Fuck me, a leathered-up girl slash mermaid. Right. I can keep you shifted, aroused…” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he again rubbed at his mouth, jaw. “And hopefully walking about.”

  He stalked toward her, suddenly determined, grabbed her arm and hustled her to the pool wall, pushed her to it face-first, took both her hands and raised them high, pinned them, wrists together above her head. Using one hand, he slipped off his pants then kicked them aside.

  He extracted the small plug from her ass, tossed it away then levered the nearest straps aside or undid them. Something akin to a growl left his throat. “How can I resist? You walking about in this? Tits sticking out, ass like a ripe peach… Stay.”

  He kissed her hair, her ear, bit her neck. From the corner of her eye, she saw him hold up the remote and press it. She braced herself.

  Not as big a buzz, and a little uncomfortable but it set her to thinking sex, made her press backward as his cock pushed in, sliding into her ass, making it feel overfull and on the verge of too much, too soon. She hissed at the odd tweak of pain as he took her, solidly thrusting.

  But the thing on her clit kept buzzing at her. Between the two of them – man and thing, and the dildo stuffed inside her pussy…

  She was soon teetering on the edge of another climax and he was grunting as he went in, pinning her hands so firmly onto the glass that it squeaked as her palms slid.

  The dildos fucked her, filled her everywhere, while he pushed in, and the buzz climbed, strengthened. There was another thrust, another, countless more with her tensing, trembling, her body confused as to what was in her where.

  The world spun, throbbed, her legs shook.

  Pinned to the glass, penetrated and filled, she came and came, and felt him fuck her a few more times before he also climaxed. His come was heated, and with the push of a last, solid thrust, he stilled, his weight on her back, his fingers kneading her wrists.

  The device kept molesting her.

  Too much.

  Rent mindless, mouth open, she spasmed into a final climax, her lower body jerking against the cold glass.

  “Damn.” He pressed his head to hers, his muscled-up body enfolding her.

  The buzzing finally stopped. Her clit was numb. And when he slid his cock from her, she was left to slide down the glass to her knees.

  The day was spent in various ways – watching him prepare a meal using the wondrous machines in his house, a meal he fed to her while she kneeled before him. And it was spent being experimented on by various settings on the devices, as well as being screwed twice more – on the bed and over the dining room table.

  She asked him about the institute. The scientists studied the sea and the animals in it. Not her type though, because she did not exist. He’d smiled at that.

  By the end of the day he’d fed her far more than he had eaten and made love to her more than she thought he’d intended to. His enthusiasm for pacing himself and not fucking her had been trampled by his need to actually do things to her.

  Which was fine, in her humble opinion.

  Before he returned her to the pool in the late afternoon, he dressed her in a long silken gown with laces down the back then had her pirouette before him.

  “You look so beautiful.”

  Raffaela smoothed her hand down the front, dabbled her fingers over the tiny cloth-covered buttons. “It is pretty.” She had never owned anything like this. All the possessions she had ever owned could have been carried in a single large suitcase. She’d not even owned a dog, unless you counted a mongrel that had followed her. Like her, it had sought food, a safe place to be, a safe companion.

  So why did she want to become a human again?

  Success was not guaranteed. Riches were not. Safety was not.

  He took up the leash he’d released her from earlier and reattached it. “Back to the pool. You can take it off up there.”

  A thought occurred as she trailed after him. “A girlfriend owned this?”

  “Yes. Good guess.”

  “You’ve had a lot of them? Had sex with them?”

  “Yes. And yes.”

  “But married none?”

  “No.”

  Clearly marriage and morality were as messy as in her times, only maybe worse? Men would screw her in alleys but never tell their wives. Now it seemed they had a lot of girlfriends and never married any.

  She recalled the other thing she’d meant to say. “Do not forget to eat. You didn’t last night.”

  At the glass door Wolfgang stopped and turned, put his back to the door then reeled her in using the chain. He tucked his hand and the gathered chain under her chin.

  “You watched me?”

  She nodded.

  “I will. You know…” A line formed between his eyes. “I almost wish I’d never had the other girls.”

  “Girls? Women?”

  “They were women, but I like to call you all girls.” His kiss was tender. A press on her lips then he withdrew and eyed her.

  “Why?” she murmured.

  His grin was devilish. “It makes you mine, more than woman does. Like this does.” The leash tightened at her neck. “Because I get to do this.” As he’d said the words, his hand dragged the dress upward and slipped beneath to toy between her legs.

  “Hmmm.” She closed her eyes and let her legs relax to allow his hand to touch her. “I do like that. But you must eat.”

  “I will.” He let the dress fall, turned to the door and twisted the handle. “Thank you. I’m… glad you said that.”

  Glad?

  All of her fatigue, her bruises, the vague aches in her intimate parts, those vanished when she shifted, but Wolfgang did not have that advantage. So, of course he must eat.

  That night, she watched him through the pool glass again, idly flicking her tail. He did eat, but not very much as far a
s she could judge. It made her feel sad, for some reason.

  Because I’m addicting him to me? Or am I getting addicted to him?

  Not just that. She was growing to like him.

  This could never last. It would end. That was why there was sadness.

  The Ravening would come, and what would he do then?

  Through a slim gap at the side of the cloth that concealed the pool, she looked out at the ocean. It was dark but eventually the moon rose. She kept her eyes glued on the slit, hoping for – no, pining for – a glimpse of the sea.

  In the painted glow of moonlight, as waves washed in with a distant booming and roaring, summoning her, she saw something that made her chest thump.

  There. A tail larger than would be found on any fish venturing into the shallows. And no dorsal fin. For a microsecond, she saw the pale face of a man. A male, not a man.

  She backed away from the glass, frightened. No merfolk had ever been friendly. None she had approached anyway.

  They also could not reach her.

  They could not, would not, rescue her anyway, even if they knew she was here.

  CHAPTER 10

  Their debauched relationship continued for days that stretched into what she added up to being a week. Wolfgang declared a need to study her, and yet the research never progressed much beyond them making love many times each day. His experiment seemed to be going nowhere. To walk about his house was not of any practical purpose, except when it came to fucking.

  He ate less than a man of his size should, she was certain of this.

  He grew thinner in the face, more haunted looking. Shadows painted his eye sockets. Whereas she stayed the same. Each night she transformed into her mermaid form and her wounds and bruises healed.

  Though the vast loneliness of the ocean had been banished, it was replaced by a strained waiting, of wanting more than this isolated dedication to sex.

  Yes, Wolfgang told her about his life, about science, measuring pollution, and studying the levels of tiny pieces of garbage in the sea. He even told her about dissecting fish and other sea creatures so as to do his marine research, but it seemed as if he kept some details away from her, as if he hid things. Why would he do this?