Awakening

by Kitty Thomas

  It was said that mermaids had hypnotic magic that lured sailors to their deaths, but in reality, we sometimes liked to sun ourselves on rocks that were safe because of how hard it would be for a human to reach us. It wasn’t our fault the men liked to look and often wrecked their boats and died.

  No, the real hypnotic powers rested with humans. With the way they could touch you and make you forget you didn’t like to be touched. How they could create a type of alchemy in a mermaid’s body chemistry that made her want more and then somehow made that more possible.

  The intensity of the strokes of his tongue were unrelenting as my hips bucked against his mouth. His hands gripped underneath me, hard, pulling me to him. I was sure there would be fingerprints left where he dug into my cheeks. A few minutes later, that now familiar feeling happened, like a flower bud opening.

  “That’s it, Nerina, come for me.”

  The deep purr of his voice as it vibrated against my clit sent another wave of pleasure over me. A moment later and he was inside me, his cock straining against my walls. It was still a tight fit, but he was right, it didn’t hurt this time.

  I closed my eyes against his intense stare. It was too intimate. I was afraid for a moment that he’d make me open them. Maybe it wasn’t enough for him to dominate and control my body, maybe he needed my soul, too. But he allowed me my privacy and didn’t intrude.

  Twitch.

  My eyes shot open at the sensation. It was a little different than what I’d felt when I’d had a fin. The hint that something was about to happen and change remained the same. This time it came from deeper inside, and yet, it was there. Then the feeling went away and he came inside me.

  I thought we were done, but we were far from it. His fingers went back to stroking between my legs.

  “Every time I let you come, I want you to beg me for more. I’ll determine when you’ve had enough. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  For a moment, fear cramped my stomach. What he implied was too intense for me. Even with the changes that had happened, I couldn’t imagine having that feeling happen over and over, no matter how pleasurable it was. It seemed like too much of a good thing, like getting sick on too much rich or sweet food.

  Time lost meaning as I lost track of the orgasms. My ability to count them failed me past ten; of course I could count higher than that under normal circumstances. There was an odd sort of conflict raging inside me. A part of me wished he would stop this torture. But every time I wished that, my body would recover from the last bout of pleasure and surge upward toward another wave, greedily reaching for more. By the time he was finished, I was wrung out, the sweat a fine sheen on my body, making me glisten in an almost iridescent way.

  “Nerina?” he prompted after my last orgasm.

  “Please Master, may I have more?” I prayed silently that he would end it so I could rest. He’d only fucked me the one time so I couldn’t imagine what he was getting out of this beyond the thrill of the power of manipulating my body, playing it like his instrument, figuring out which touches would make me create which sounds. Perhaps he was writing his own music.

  “No, I think you’ve had enough,” he said.

  I sighed, and I’m sure the relief was evident on my face. He chuckled and then mounted me again. I don’t know if it was because I’d been so wet and aroused, or because I was so sensitive from so many orgasms, but as his cock pushed deep inside me, the twitch turned into a full and growing flame.

  His smug smile made it clear that he’d seen the change on my features. Something was building, something new and more terrifying than the other orgasms I’d already grown accustomed to. As he pounded harder, something inside me opened up and let go. It was like an endless fall.

  I grabbed on to his shoulders, burying my face in his neck, clinging to him. I felt warm, hot, tingly. This time the pleasure came from deep inside, so strong it was almost an ache. I felt my hips thrusting in tandem with his, trying to take him deeper still, trying to crawl inside of him until the feeling exploded. I was sure if his arms hadn’t been wrapped around me that I would have literally come apart.

  “Now we’re done,” he said as I shook against him. “You can go take a bath if you like.”

  When he moved off me I attempted to get off the bed and my legs immediately turned to jelly. I caught myself on the floor with my hands. I couldn’t walk yet unaided under the best circumstances, and even crawling was proving difficult at the moment.

  Kyros laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle that was more garden-variety mirth than mockery.

  I shot him a dirty look, but he’d already closed his eyes and lain back on the bed. I did want to sit in water. Even if it wasn’t salt water, it was centering somehow. I crawled to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. Living in the sea had given me a tolerance and preference for cooler water, so I kept it cooler in what I now privately thought of as the rain box.

  That night I slept more easily. The silky sheets whispering across my legs were almost equivalent to the comfort of the water I’d slept submerged under before the change. My dreams were muted, a series of images that never seemed to crystallize into a storyline. The lack of anything solid to hold on to in my nocturnal adventures made me feel unsteady somehow. As the wispy tendrils of images receded, I reached out for the comfort of Kyros’ body, wanting to cling to him in my first moments of wakefulness because he was solid. Real.

  But he wasn’t there. There was a note on his pillow for me saying he’d been called away to take care of some business and he’d return in a few hours. A toga was draped across the bed with a golden sash. The breakfast cart was rolled next to the bed. I couldn’t believe I’d managed to sleep through all this activity around me, especially when my sleep hadn’t felt very deep.

  I hated eating alone, hated not eating in the pool with him feeding me, but I slipped the fabric over my head and ate anyway. I caught my image in a reflecting glass and smiled. I looked very much like the images of Greek goddesses in the paintings on the walls that my Master seemed to admire so much. I felt a warmth in my stomach that he would pick something for me to wear that made me look like his paintings.

  I lifted the silver tray from the cart to find eggs, fruit, and the half-moon shaped bread I was coming to love. There was a glass of milk instead of juice this morning. I’d never had milk. Well, besides mermaid milk when I was a baby, which I don’t remember. This, I was sure, didn’t come from a mermaid or a human. I decided I was a fan of this beverage and would ask Kyros if I could have it more often in the future.

  After I ate, I decided to practice walking. First I sat on the bed, just moving my legs, flexing my feet, wiggling my toes. I grabbed on to the stone wall, using the crevices for a better grip, to help steady myself. My balance was woefully wobbly, and I feared I’d never be able to walk like a normal person, but as I moved, watching my feet and how they reacted to the ground underneath me, I slowly became more confident. Not confident enough to let go of the wall, but confident enough that I almost felt like I was moving normally.

  I was still a little sore and weak, but my lower limbs were getting used to movement and becoming surer of their increasing abilities.

  I tried the door. It wasn’t locked. I don’t know if I expected it to be. In his note, he hadn’t given me any orders about staying in his room, so I used the opportunity to explore.

  The castle was enormous and fairly dark in the hallways. I almost felt as if I needed some kind of fire or electricity to find my way. Thankfully a few doors were open that led to other rooms, allowing the sunlight from their windows to spill out into the hallway, creating small patches of brightness to light my way.

  As I walked, I tried to take a few steps here and there without touching the wall. After a couple of hours of wandering and practicing, I was walking without much pain and without need of the wall for balance. Whatever magic had made my legs had made them fully functional and properly muscled. Nothing had come to me atrophied or in di
srepair. I simply had to get oriented and used to moving in this way.

  At the end of one hall was a set of spiraling stairs that went up into a tower. This new challenge was almost enough to make me turn around. I wasn’t sure if I could walk up stairs, especially so many. But the steps were solid and stone, with walls on both sides and a rail to steady myself. It would be great practice.

  The tower was many stories high and quite a struggle to climb, but I made it to the top. I gaped at my surroundings when I reached the tower. What I’d always believed about the nature of Anostos was untrue.

  While Anostos is characterized by hazy red clouds with no real determinable night or day, what happened high above those clouds many stories up was a different matter. The large room at the top of the tower was little more than a domed glass window. A section of it opened, allowing something on a tripod to nestle there. The object had a lens on both ends. I wasn’t sure what the nature of this object was, but it seemed to have something to do with exploring the sky.

  I laughed. I could look at the sun and the moon and the stars again. It was another of the things I’d thought I’d lost forever when I lost the sea. I could imagine Kyros and I laying on mats and blankets up here under the stars. Someday I would work up the courage to ask if we could.

  The sun shone on me, and I wanted to live in this room. It brought back memories of sunning myself on rocks in other parts of Meropis. I stood in the warmth of the sun for a long time, then finally made my way back down the stairs.

  When I reached the floor with all the bedrooms on it, I checked Kyros’ room to make sure he hadn’t returned. I didn’t want him angry with me for being gone, but I was excited to show him my progress.

  There was no evidence that he’d come back from his business, but the tray and scraps of leftover food had been removed. Perhaps by Estella. Or maybe by the woman I’d seen the other day at the pool. Maybe someone else entirely.

  I went back out into the dark hallway and was faced with two choices. One was a large, curved stone staircase that would likely open out into some main entry hall, and the other was the back set of stairs that I’d gone down the first night during the party. The back stairs would open out near the kitchen, which I was sure would be occupied by servants.

  I wasn’t sure which set of stairs would be better to avoid running into someone. The quietness of the castle after the food’s removal indicate that no one was frantically looking for me. Surely everyone here must be aware of my presence and who I was. Maybe that was what bothered me the most, the idea that if they saw me with my new legs, they would know how I’d gotten them—they probably already knew. The change marked me in a way that was more exposing than my kind was accustomed to.

  Finally I decided on the main staircase. If this was going to be my home, I wasn’t going to hide in it like some mouse. My bare feet made no sound over the cool stone steps as I descended, holding on to the railing for support.

  The main entry hall was empty, but I could hear a soft din of female voices in the distance, I assumed the kitchen. I moved away from the voices and discovered the room with the pool that had served as my room, and then a ballroom, and a library, and a few other rooms whose purposes I wasn’t exactly sure of. On the main level toward the back of the castle was another set of stairs that went down.

  Much like the tower had, these spiraled, but there were fewer steps. Downstairs was even darker than the hallways. I felt along the wall for a source of light and found a switch. The switch didn’t make it much better. It certainly didn’t make it bright. Hundreds of smallish wall lights illuminated all at once, enough to see what was down there, but not enough to read by.

  Strange contraption after strange contraption filled my vision. I couldn’t begin to guess what all of these things were for, but they seemed in some way meant for humans. They seemed like torture devices of some sort. The kinds of things mermen liked to tell stories about to scare the rest of us.

  Hanging from the walls were long strips of leather and other things I didn’t have names for but that equally scared me. After the hours of practicing and going up and down so many steps, I’d become accustomed to my legs enough that I could walk across the stone floor without aide of the wall. I occasionally and reluctantly touched one of the free-standing contraptions in the room to help steady myself on the few times my balance failed me.

  It was all very puzzling, yet also sinister. I wasn’t sure what any of this was for, but it seemed it couldn’t be for good. If this was my master’s castle, then he must be aware of this room, perhaps even used it. That thought, along with the cool dampness in the room, sent a shiver down my spine.

  “I thought I saw someone come down here.”

  I turned quickly, recognizing the voice. Male. Not my Master. Aric. The fisherman who had shown too much interest in me the day they’d brought me to Kyros’ chambers. He smiled, not a friendly smile. He smelled of fish from the sea, and something else I couldn’t name. The odor was so pungent it reached me from across the room.

  The smell made me want to vomit. At first I thought I wanted my family, but in my mind my mother’s arms wrapped around me and held me close. That wasn’t the way of my kind. No, what I wanted right now, the type of comfort I sought, I could only get from a human.

  For the first time, I didn’t long for my fin or the sea. My fin might have protected me more from the lecherous fisherman, but the only thing I wanted was for Kyros to be with me, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

  Aric stepped closer. “Pretty mermaid. I see you just became a more convenient conquest.” His eyes traveled the length of my body and I could almost see the images bloom in his mind. I could guess what they were. He didn’t seem to be much of a thinker, so they probably weren’t imaginative images, but instead primal, simple: my legs spread with him inside me. I shuddered and backed away, putting one of the scary contraptions between us.

  “Come now, don’t be that way,” he said, his approach not slowing. If I could somehow move as fast as the beating of my heart, I could get away from those measured thundering steps of his, but I found myself rooted to the spot.

  I still hadn’t managed to form a word. Perhaps if I screamed someone would come help me. I opened my mouth to do it, but quickly closed it again. What if they wanted what the fisherman wanted? Or worse? What if they wanted to watch? I wished I had the kind of mental magic sailors accused us of. I wished I could make Aric drop dead, or that I could will my Master to the scene.

  “I bet I’m more gentle than the Master. He’s got dark tastes, as I’m sure you’re aware. Does he bring you down here often?”

  The question caught me so off guard that my vocal chords spontaneously reactivated. “W-what?”

  “Oh, don’t play coy with me. I know he must have whipped that pretty little ass I’m sure you’ve got hidden away. He should keep you naked, the way you came to us from the sea.” He reached me then, his hand curled like a claw as he gripped the fabric, ripping it away from my flesh until my breasts were bared to his gaze.

  I struggled to cover myself, my modesty around strangers having risen to ridiculous proportions because now I knew too much about the pleasures humans fed from.

  “Gotten all prissy on us have you? You weren’t so good when you came out of the ocean. You could have been an appetizer, don’t forget. Must be a great cocksucker for him to have let you live.”

  He reached down to start undoing his pants. I could feel the tears streaming down my face and something inside me yelled Run! I didn’t know how to run. I could barely walk and climb stairs, but the voice in my head sounded like Kyros, and so I obeyed. I didn’t think, I just moved, just like in the water when he’d told me to swim.

  As Aric stumbled in his half-removed pants, it occurred to me what the other smell was. He was drunk. I gained confidence as I started to notice his own slight unsteadiness made greater with his pants no longer around his waist.

  I raced up the stairs, stumbling a couple of times, not look
ing back. My legs burned from the exertion I wasn’t yet used to, but I didn’t care. I ran straight for the kitchen because that was where I’d heard women’s voices. They may not approve of me, but I hoped they didn’t actively wish me ill.

  I was panting when I reached the doorway and several women looked up, their mouths gaping open. I looked down to find my breasts still exposed. Blushing, I gathered the fabric to cover myself.

  “What on earth?” Estella said.

  “A-Aric,” was all I could manage to get out.

  “Did he?”

  I knew what she was asking. These women seemed unable to express a full graphic sexual thought, but somehow a female language older than time took over. We all knew what we were talking about, even though we weren’t really talking about it.

  “He tried. Downstairs.”

  Estella and one of the other women exchanged a look that let me know they knew about the frightening things down below. The kitchen became a flurry of activity as the older woman guided me to a wooden table and started shouting orders. The others scurried off to follow her bidding.

  One woman returned a few moments later with a blanket to wrap around me. Another put a bowl in front of me with soup she’d just ladled from a big pot on the stove. Another gave me some water and a generous chunk of fresh-baked bread.

  It had been a while since breakfast, but since my fear had abated, the hunger response was even greater than it should have been. I’d had a similar situation once when I’d had to outswim a hungry shark.

  Although Estella had shown disdain for me before, neither she nor any other woman in the kitchen showed it now. What had almost happened to me served as some sort of bond between us. We were united against a common foe: a man.

  “Don’t you worry,” she said, patting my hand. The gesture caught me off-balance, as Kyros had been the only human flesh against my own until now. Aside from when the fishermen had brought me up to his room, of course. “When the Master gets home, he’ll take care of everything.”