Tamed by the Creature from the Lagoon

by Clea Kinderton

  The men joined in with hoots and chuckles.

  I felt an icy chill run down my spine.

  They know.

  “See, I been watching you. When that monster came in here the first time, I thought for sure you were a goner. I even felt a little sorry for leaving you all tied up like that, trussed up like a prize pig for Christmas dinner. But that ain’t what happened, is it? That ugly fucker didn’t eat you, did he? He let you go. And I found that mighty strange, until I realized that the reason he never killed you is because he’s fucking you.”

  There was a murmur of disgust from the men.

  “Damn, bitch. If what Billy here is saying is true, that’s some fucked-up kind of crazy you’re into,” said the man with greasy hair and a goatee.

  I glared at them, too angry to speak. I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands.

  “I bet she sucks his dick, too,” said one of the White Power brothers. “She looks like the cock-sucking type. It’s always the nice, respectable girls that enjoy slurpin’ on a big, fat dong.”

  “What’s Fish-Freak dick taste like, darlin’?” said Bill.

  “Fish stick!” blurted the man with the goatee, earning an explosion of laughter from the men.

  “What’s Fish-Freak cum taste like?” said the other White Power brother.

  “Tartar sauce!” said the slob in the Confederate t-shirt, triggering even louder peals of laughter.

  I struggled against Bill’s hold, my face hot with shame, but his grip was too strong.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I said in a trembling voice.

  “We’re gonna make you a star, babe,” he said, laughing. “We know that bottom-feeding boyfriend of yours is gonna show up here eventually, and when he does, you’re gonna give us all a show. My friend Abel here got a video camera all set up for ya.” One of the White Power brothers raised his hand and waved at her. “You’re going to make us some amateur porn, darlin’. Then we’re gonna sell the video to the highest bidder. Can you imagine how big a splash that’s gonna make when the video goes viral? Everybody on the planet’s gonna know what you did. People are gonna call you Fish-Fucker from Miami to Australia. There’ll be porn sites dedicated to ya. Bet you’ll be real popular in Japan.” Bill laughed at his own joke and all the men hooted. “Then maybe when you’re done doing your thing, we’ll put a bullet in that fishy fucker’s head and sell his body to some kinda research facility. Maybe they can turn him into medicine or glue or something. Be doing a public service, ain’t that right boys?”

  There was a chorus of approval from his friends.

  “Pete, Jethro, help me get this bitch’s clothes off.”

  Two of his men came forward, hands raised. I roared, kicking my legs at them, but I was quickly overpowered.

  The men tore off my dress and quickly stripped me out of my bra and panties, then they carried me over to the coffee table and forced me to bend over it, face down. Holding me firmly in place, they spread my legs wide and tied my legs to the legs of the table, then they tied my wrists together and pulled the rope bound to my wrists to the other end of the table and tied it to the legs at the far end. Abel started the camera that had been placed strategically on one of the bookshelves.

  “Good to go, Abel?” said Bill.

  “Right as rain, Billy. Gonna be quite the show.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing!” I shouted at them. “The Fish-Man is dangerous! You have to leave. He’ll kill all of you!”

  “Should we stuff something in her mouth to shut her up?” said Abel’s brother, leering. He grabbed his crotch and gave it a rub.

  “Nah, let her scream. It’ll bring that Fish-Freak here faster,” said Bill.

  “What about her ass?” said the creep from Walgreen’s, bending down to inspect my posterior. “I’d love to stuff something in there.”

  “If you want to be here when her boyfriend shows up, be my guest,” said Bill. “I ain’t sticking around for that shitshow.”

  The man apparently thought better of anally assaulting me and they all began to move toward the door, checking their weapons to make sure they were loaded. The men were no longer within view, but I could hear their heavy footfalls moving across the floorboards.

  Suddenly there was a crash of breaking glass and several terrified screams. I heard a frantic thumping of boots and all the men came crowding around the table. I heard an odd, rhythmic slapping-thumping sound on the floor behind me.

  “What the fuck is that?!” one of them shouted, pointing.

  “It’s a fucking shark! The freak threw a goddamn shark at us!”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  There’s a shark in my living room.

  I craned my neck and watched the massive, white-bellied fish flip-flop up and down on the floor, writhing in its death throes as it slowly asphyxiated. It wasn’t a big shark by any means — a bull shark, perhaps two and a half meters long — but it was big enough. Bill and his friends were shouting and scrambling around the edges of the room, too astonished to do anything but try to avoid getting bitten as the shark’s jaws desperately snapped at their legs. It was only a couple of feet away from me, but I was completely powerless to save myself.

  Nothing in my life has prepared me for this moment, I reflected dimly as I tried to jerk myself and the coffee table out of harm’s way.

  “There it is!” someone screamed, almost hysterical.

  “Oh my God!”

  “Look at that thing!”

  “It’s a monster!”

  I turned in time to see Jacques standing in the doorway. There was a series of deafening cracks as the men began unloading their weapons but Jacques was already gone. He’d hopped like a frog to the other side of the room and was now standing in their midst, hissing horrifically and dashing rifles and shotguns out of their hands with blinding speed. I watched, stupefied, as he grabbed the man with the greasy beard and sent him flying through the living room window.

  “Don’t kill them, Jacques! Don’t kill them!”

  The White Power brothers made good on their escape, rushing past me through the front door, their legs soaked with their own urine. Jacques had the last two men up against the wall, Bill and the man with the Confederate flag t-shirt, one hand around each of their throats. He lifted them right up off the floor, like the two sacks of shit they were. The men clung to his wrists, kicking their legs, their faces slowly turning purple.

  “Please, Jacques! Please, don’t kill them!” I shouted.

  Jacques turned and looked at me, his large dark eyes glowing with rage.

  “Please. Please, just put them down. Let them go.”

  “Y-yeah,” croaked the man in the flag t-shirt. “L-let us go. We p-promise we’ll never b-bother you again. R-right, Bill?”

  Bill nodded. “Y-yeah. We’ll leave her alone,” he forced out in a hoarse voice.

  “Please, Jacques. They won’t hurt us. Just put them down.”

  Jacques made a low, growling, croaking sound, his spiny fins flaring irritably. He turned back to the men and hissed, baring his long, razor-sharp teeth at them.

  “Jacques!”

  The Fish-Man fell silent, seized by some internal struggle. Finally, he dropped them. Both men scrambled to their feet and ran in terror from the cabin. Jacques turned and looked at me, standing in a circle of discarded weapons.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for not killing them. Now, please ... could you untie me?”

  Jacques regarded me dispassionately for a moment and then slowly walked around behind me.

  “Hurry, Jacques. I think I’m starting to lose the circulation in my—”

  I felt his hand gently caressing my backside.

  “Jacques?”

  He slipped one of his fingers down between my labia, rubbing gently.

  “Jacques!”

  His finger moved down and pressed against my clit, stroking it rhythmically.

  “Jacques ... this isn’t funny ... it’s not ... oh!
... mmm.” I bit my lip. A few more seconds of his light rubbing and I was thoroughly wet.

  “Jacques, shouldn’t we—ah! Oh God!”

  I felt his long, hard cock slide into my cunt.

  Jacques braced his hands on my hips and began to pump, rhythmically thrusting his thick shaft in and out of my tight pussy. I groaned, suddenly flushed with pleasure. His cock felt so good. It was hardly the time or place, but I didn’t think I could ever get enough.

  I happened to glance up at the shelf and saw that the light on the camera was blinking.

  Oh God!

  It was capturing everything.

  “Sonuvabitch,” I murmured, pressing my breasts into the table.

  Jacques adjusted his position, leaning forward with his hands on my shoulders, bearing down on me as he thrust down and in. This new angle of penetration felt even better than the first. I moaned loudly, unable to contain myself.

  God, where did he learn to fuck like this?

  Jacques seemed to know exactly what I wanted.

  He began to thrust harder, slapping his pelvis against my hindquarters and making the coffee table creak and groan. A soft, melodic trilling sound rose from deep in his throat. The vibrations carried all the way down his torso into his cock, making it vibrate.

  “Yes. Oh, yes, Jacques!”

  Jacques picked up the pace, spanking me so hard with his hips that the table began to scrape across the floor.

  “Oh God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck mhnghhhh!!!”

  I felt an explosion of pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

  My body jerked and strained, writhing as one of the most powerful orgasms of my life ripped through me. Something burst deep inside my core and warm liquid sprayed out and ran down the backs of my thighs.

  Jesus Christ! Did I just ... squirt?! I was both amazed and appalled. I thought squirting was a myth!

  But my perplexity and confusion were brief, swept aside by the pulsating waves of ecstasy coursing through my body. I clenched deliciously around Jacques’s member, throbbing with excitement as he fluttered exquisitely inside of me.

  Jacques made a strangled, croaking sound and his body went rigid and hard as marble. I felt his cock twitching wildly inside my cunt, the base of his cock inflating and deflating rapidly against my G-spot as he forced powerful spurts of semen deep into my vagina.

  At least I didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant anymore.

  Jacques rocked rhythmically inside me, the pressure of his strangely inflating cock creating one small orgasm after another in a continuous series of blissful pulses until I began to feel drunk on endorphins. Finally, my head swimming, my body trembling and weak in the warm afterglow, he fully deflated and pulled out, leaving me hollow but thoroughly satisfied.

  Having had his way with me, Jacques snapped the ropes binding me to the table and the bonds around my wrists and tenderly picked me up in his strong arms. Stepping over the now thoroughly dead bull shark, he carried me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed.

  I couldn’t have been happier.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  At first, I’d only watched the video out of morbid curiosity.

  I wanted to see if it had actually caught anything, and if I needed to be worried about it getting into the wrong hands. I hadn’t exactly relished the thought of watching myself be impaled repeatedly by Jacques while I was tied to a table.

  Listening to Bill and his friends talk about killing Jacques was upsetting. But when the camera caught the looks of horror on their faces, the tears streaming down their cheeks, and the dark wet spots appearing in their pants as they pissed themselves, I couldn’t suppress a grin of vindication. I knew I could use that part of the video to blackmail Bill and his buddies should they ever try to cause me any problems. It would be easy enough to convince the world that the Fish-Man had been a friend of mine in a monster suit, and that the five grown men had cried like little girls when he’d jumped at them. Since the camera only showed Jacques landing in front of them, there were no superhuman athletics to explain. Not to mention, I could use the film as evidence to have them arrested and thrown in jail for what the courts would no doubt consider an attempt at a heinous crime against my person. Attempted gang-rape wasn’t exactly going to go down well with the judges. Who would the world believe? Five redneck losers — probably all ex-cons — claiming they had proof of a real live Fish-Man? Or a respected scientist claiming she’d paid a friend to dress up in a suit as a publicity stunt to attract Florida students to consider a career in marine biology? That video would go viral — as one of the most hilarious pranks ever pulled, and on five of the world’s dumbest criminals. I’d already worked out the details in my head in case anyone questioned me on it. I had Bill and his friends by the balls and they knew it. It had been six weeks since the incident, and I hadn’t heard so much as a peep from any of them.

  I’d called Chet the day after the confrontation about the window. He’d looked at me incredulously as I’d explained that a seagull had broken it trying to fly into the living room. I’d removed as much of the broken glass from the frame as I could, of course, so that Chet wouldn’t know the true extent of the damage, and he’d replaced it with only a single joke about having to replace the roof next. I’d also replaced his dad’s rifle with one of the rifles left by the men. The rest of the weapons I’d stowed away in various parts of the cabin, in case I should find myself in need of one. I wasn’t going to get caught empty-handed the next time. Fortunately, Jacques had taken the shark with him out to the lagoon in the morning so I didn’t have to dispose of it. I suspect he spent the next several days eating it.

  Calling the university to tell them I needed to take an extended leave hadn’t been as difficult as I’d anticipated. Everyone knew about Henry’s affair and no one wanted or needed an explanation for why I wanted to take the first semester off. Chet was delighted when I gave him the news and the very next day we’d gone out in his boat, just like he’d wanted. He drank beer, we both caught fish, and I pretended that I didn’t have a Fish-Man baby growing inside of me.

  It was the third time I watched the video, three weeks after the incident, that Jacques had caught me in the act. Red-handed, as it were.

  I’d been afraid that seeing himself on camera would set him off again, the way it had the first time, but he’d taken it in stride. At some point, he’d figured out that it wasn’t another Fish-Man inside the laptop but a recording of himself and that he had nothing to worry about. His rapid understanding of a technology that must have appeared like magic to him only confirmed what I already knew: that he was a highly intelligent creature, far more intelligent than any animal, and in all likelihood every bit as intelligent as myself, albeit in different areas. Our lovemaking that night had been particularly vigorous. As I’d discovered, Jacques had quite an appetite.

  At the moment, I was on my knees in front of the couch, crouching between Jacques’s outspread legs, naked, sucking his cock.

  In the second week of my pregnancy, I’d developed what I could only describe as a craving. I couldn’t stop thinking about his semen, like I’d developed a physical need to swallow his sperm. I knew that being pregnant could give you weird cravings, but I’d never heard of anyone developing a craving for semen, let alone Fish-Man semen. Jacques hadn’t seemed the least-bit surprised when I’d started sucking him daily. The first time, I’d just pushed him down on the bed and wrapped my lips around him and he’d laid there, propped up on his elbows, watching me, exactly the way a human man would have. Like everything else, Jacques took blowjobs in stride.

  I’d really grown to appreciate his cock. It was so smooth and silky and slipped so easily between my lips, and it had such a mild, healthy flavor and aroma that sucking him had become a real joy. I delighted stroking him with my lips, fingers, and tongue until his thick, hard cock was vibrating and shaking with excitement in my mouth and he was practically writhing in ecstasy.

  Sort of like he was
right now.

  I bobbed my head rapidly, eager to consume my prize, and felt all the muscles in his pelvis suddenly contract. His shaft swelled and strained in my hands, he made a rapid series of croaking, trilling sounds, and dug his claws into the couch. A powerful stream of cum burst into my mouth, spilling in thick, milky ropes over my tongue, a sweet and salty treat that I drank ravenously, enjoying the way it filled my belly and nourished my body.

  As I swallowed the last few loads, I felt a sudden twinge in my belly. I straightened up with a start, clamping my hand over my belly. It was visible now, a little rounded tummy. Whatever was growing inside me was growing amazingly quickly. The rational part of my brain knew that it should have been a cause for alarm, but instead it filled me with wonder and joy. I felt like my happiness was finally complete.

  I felt another twinge, this one stronger. I gasped, digging my fingers into Jacques’s thigh. He leaned forward curious.

  Another twinge.

  “Jacques! Something’s happening,” I said, alarmed.

  No. No, please, not a miscarriage!

  Another cramp.

  I groaned, hunching over. Jacques took my hand and I squeezed it.

  “What’s happening?!” I cried, beseeching him with my eyes.

  His alien expression was impossible to read. He couldn’t answer of course. Despite six weeks of constant attempts at communication, we hadn’t made any progress beyond “yes”, “no”, “food”, and “sex”, all of which we had to communicate by using various signals.

  Another jolt of pain, and this time I felt something shift.

  And then my water broke.

  I looked up at Jacques, terrified. There was a puddle on the floor between my legs.

  Jacques leaned forward, examined the moisture, and carefully picked me up.

  “Oh Jacques, I wish you could talk,” I whined, clinging to him.

  Jacques carried me out of the house and down toward the lagoon.