Submitting to the Lake Monster:
A Three Story Bundle
Nancey Cummings
Table of Contents
Lady of the Lake Monster
The Return of the Lady of the Lake Monster
The Lake Monster’s Education
Crave More?
About the Authors
Additional Works
Copyright Notices
The Lady of the Lake Monster
Nancey Cummings
Chapter One
The late summer day was hot with plenty of sunshine. Alice rolled down the car windows to catch the deep, cool scent of the lake in the air. The air conditioning busted a week ago, making the drive to her job interview long and sticky. Sweat collected in the small of her back.
Glimpses of the lake through the trees tempted her. There was time before the interview. A quick dip would be refreshing, she rationalized. Maybe a quick dip would help her relax and work out pre-interview nerves.
A small smile lifted the corner of her glossy pink lips. A quickie would also do the trick, but she’d have to make do with the materials at hand.
At the next opportunity, she pulled the car over and behind the tree line. Protected from the road, she scanned the area. Silence except for the sounds of birds and the breeze through the trees. Satisfied to be perfectly alone, she unbuttoned her blouse.
A twig snapped.
Alice turned her head quickly. A shadow moved in the trees but she spotted nothing. Just the light on the water, dazzling her senses.
She wiped the sweat from her brow. She was so hot. The cool lake water would be so good against her skin.
She removed her blouse and skirt and careful folded them on the seat of the car. She then removed her bra. It was a stern white and practical contraption; full of support for her ample breasts. Nothing fancy but it definitely said “Hire me! I’m practical.”
Alice felt like she was released from prison. The skirt came off next, followed by her shoes (practical one inch pumps). Finally she pulled her long brunette hair back into a pony tail.
Alice approached the water. The air stirred with bird song and the gentle sound of water against the shore. Rumors about monstrous fish-men creatures in the lake lingered in every gift shop in the countryside and passed from campfire to campfire. The stories were just that, stories to tantalize tourists and spook the children.
Never one to hesitate, Alice plunged into the water.
The cool water braced against her skin. She gave a small gasp of shock as she broke the surface of the water. The water tasted sweet on her lips.
Alice swam from the shaded shore and into the sunny expanse of water. Deep blue and still, the water was a little warmer but remained a refreshing temperature. Her feet no longer touched the silt covered bottom.
In the sun, Alice was able to stretch and float on her back. Her white breasts broke the surface of the water. The girls hardly ever saw the sun. Chilled water hardened pale pinkish-beige nipples.
A large house sat at the far side of the lake, some two hundred yards away. The Aquetong House, gentile and monied, home of her potential employer, sat at the edge of the water. Large, close set windows gave the impression of a stern gaze.
Alice reached down to the soft tufts of hair at her groin. She casually ran her fingers through the pubic hair. It was a little long at the moment but she never enjoyed being completely shorn like a child.
Alice closed her eyes and sighed. The sense of the house was watching her, with dark, disapproving eyes, excited her. Being observed while naked and vulnerable in the water thrilled her. A finger parted her labia. With slow, circuitous strokes, she hummed softly with pleasure. Not really what she craved, but enough for now.
Something brushed against her leg, rousing her from daydreams. Alice sat up with a splash. A shadow darted from underneath her. Not an ordinary fish; a massive fish.
Hands grabbed her waist.
Not possible. Alice turned around quickly and saw nothing. Another shadow. A fish. All the stories about the monster of the lake, the fish-man, raced through her mind. It had to be a fish, right? The fish-man was a story; just a story.
Hands grabbed her from behind again, this time cupping her breasts. Those were definitely hands holding her breasts. The hands gave her breasts an appreciative squeeze. Alice noticed the webbing between the fingers. Oh god. The fish-man.
She turned around. Another splash and a man-sized shadow passed under her again. A little bigger than man-sized. A man-sized fish with hands. This time, though, something rose from beneath and parted her legs. Something massive and firm. The creature’s tail rubbed its entire length against her cunt. The slight friction of scales through the water against her skin sent an electric thrill through her. Ridges of flattened fins sounded against her and she held her breath, enjoying every bump. What was this thing?
Alice treaded water in a pleasure filled, shocked surprise. This creature enjoyed teasing her. She could make out its dark shape circling around her in the water.
“Come on,” she said, suddenly reaching a decision. If the fish-man was real and grabbing her boobs, she would not let that opportunity pass her by. “What are you going to do?”
The creature darted towards her. She sucked in her breath in anticipation. The tail coiled around her feet and swept her to the side. Alice went under.
When she resurfaced, the dark shape under the water was quickly receding to the far shore.
“You big tease!” she shouted in frustration.
Chapter Two
Shaking with unexpected delight and frustration, Alice returned to the car and dressed. She just got groped by a campfire story. More than that, she liked it. The tail on that thing. Was it flexible? How do you go forward from that? Alice shook her head to clear her thoughts. Focus, she scolded herself. Job interview. Be an adult not a horny teenager.
Back into the bra and panties, skirt, shoes and a sensible white blouse, Alice regained control. She brushed her hair and pulled it back into a bun. She carefully reapplied the pink lip gloss. Sensible. Completely not like the woman who just went skinny dipping and called a handsy fish-man a tease.
Forty-five minutes later, Alice sat in the parlor of the Aquetong House, dry and proper, resume and referrals in a smart leather folder. The Aquetong family was old, the oldest in the area, and reclusive. Charities and building projects all over the region carried the family name, but they never attended any function or gala. “Aquetong” was another way to say reclusive and mysterious. The position was for a personal assistant. She probably would be interviewed by a staff member, like the haughty woman who answered the door.
“Mr. Aquetong will see you now,” the woman said, walking briskly into the room. She motioned for Alice to follow. She led her down a long corridor. A dim hush pervaded the house, along with the fresh scent of the lake.
The woman stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. “I should tell you,” the woman said, giving Alice a cold, judging look. “Mr. Aquetong has a…skin condition. I don’t want you to be alarmed.”
Alice nodded. “I know. I mean, I won’t be. Thank you.”
“Mr. Aquetong also requires that rooms remain dim.”
“Of course.”
The woman nodded curtly and opened the door. “Your afternoon appointment, sir,” she said, before leaving.
Alice entered the room. The late afternoon sun shone strongly through the windows, creating a silhouette of the man in the room. He stood facing the windows, arms clasped behind his back. He was tall, with broad shoulders and trim hips, and a little larger than she expected. Until that m
oment, Alice did not realize she had been visualizing Mr. Aquetong as an older man, probably infirmed, which would explain the lack of any social appearances. Instead, she found a figure that radiated vitality.
The furniture was old and expensive. The drapes were shear and ivory. A heavy desk sat between Alice and Mr. Aquetong. Alice was instantly conscious of the scuff on her shoes and the skirt which pulled at the waist from her still damp skin. The buttons never closed properly on this shirt. They always seemed to strain.
“Please,” a deep voice said, “have a seat. I hope you had a pleasant drive.” A slight paused between pleasant and drive. He continued, “This old place isn’t the easiest to get to.”
“It’s a beautiful day and a gorgeous drive,” Alice said, faking the confidence in her voice.
“Tell me, do you like the lake?”
A blush over took her poise and Alice was grateful Mr. Aquetong had his back to her. “Yes,” she said. “I like it very much.”
“You smell like the lake.” Not an accusation, simply a statement.
Alice said nothing. She waited with her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Mr. Aquetong moved from behind the desk, away from the silhouette creating effect of the window, and closer to her. She saw him clearly now. A thrill of recognition bolted through her: the fish-man.
His skin was scales. All of it, from his bald head to his toes, a silvery blue-green spread of scales. The skin condition, no doubt. But the gills on his neck? The subtle fins by his ears? The whiskers around his mouth formed the shape of a well groomed goatee.
“That was you?” Alice asked.
He turned slightly, exposing his tail. It was thick and tapered to a point with a small barb at the end. The tail was long enough to nearly touch the floor. It twitch as if pleased to be identified.
She remained seated in the chair. He leaned close to her, the fresh scent of the lake permeating his clothes. His mouth was next to her, she could feel his hot breath on her neck. A whisker brushed against her skin softly. Excitement flared in her. Her skin tingled and she wanted nothing more than for him to put his mouth all over her.
He reached behind her and removed the pin that held her bun in place. Her hair tumbled free, the inner recesses still damp from her illicit swim. He breathed the scent in deeply.
“What do I charge you,” he said quietly in her ear, “for swimming in my lake and calling me names?” A tongue flicked the outer edge of her ear and did a long slide down her neck.
Alice couldn’t speak; not complete words, not with that tongue distracting her.
“I did ask you here to discuss a position I had available,” he said, voice low and close. His voice reverberated deep in her. “A man in my…condition needs certain services performed in public that he can’t do on his own.”
A webbed hand began drifted to her blouse. Long blue-green fingers with a silver sheen hovered near the straining buttons. She willed the buttons to give up their fight and pop off.
“But now,” he continued, “I have different position in mind for you. Shall we discuss the matter?”
Alice nodded enthusiastically. “Yes,” she said, finally finding her voice.
The blue-green fingers undid the buttons on her blouse, one at a frustratingly slow time.
“Good,” Mr. Aquetong said. “I hate to be accused of being a tease.”
Chapter Three
Blouse undone, Mr. Aquetong leaned down and gently kissed the exposed tops of her breasts. His lips cool and refreshing against her over heated skin. Alice instinctively stroked the top of his head, the skin smooth and silky. Even running her fingers against the grain of the scales meet little resistance or friction. His hands reached behind her and she leaned forward. Clever blue-green fingers worked to undo the bra.
Once free, Alice began to work on his button-down shirt. His strong hands urged her out of the chair and onto her feet. She kicked off her shoes and her skirt slid to the floor just as she removed his shirt.
His chest was hairless and completely covered in the same scales. A color variation in the pattern was apparent, slightly bluer on his muscular stomach and more green on his side. A swimmer’s body: sleek and made for breaking the surface of the water. She ran a hand down his abdomen in appreciation. He closed his eyes and sighed.
The remaining clothes fell on the floor in a careless pile. He pushed her against the edge of the desk. His cock pressed into her abdomen, hard and massive. His tongue, his marvelous tongue, flickered across her nipples. There was just enough tacky adhesion on his tongue to pull the sensitive skin. She gasped with pleasure. His hands cupped her breasts.
Her mouth sought his. She kissed him deeply. His lips were unbelievably soft and giving. Men just didn’t have lips like this. Her tongue ran along the tiny razor points of his teeth.
His tail rose from the floor and parted her thighs. The tip of his tail had a small barb and this bit carefully stroked her labia and clitoris with the slightest of abrasion. Alice moaned, relishing in wondrous torture. She ached to be filled. She was so wet, her juices trickled down her inner thigh. Her pussy throbbed with the heat of excitement like she never experienced before.
His strong hands grasped her under the buttocks and lifted her onto the desk. Papers, pens and the other flotsam swept to the side. She caught a glimpse of his cock. It was large; twelve inches long and rock hard. The skin pulled tight at the head of the penis, blue with tints of purple and swollen with lust. She licked her lips in anticipation. She had never had a cock so large inside of her.
The tip of the tail ran a tight circle around her entrance, barely penetrating. Alice arched her back and moved her hips forward, trying to make it go deeper. In and out, a little slower with each passing, the sensation was maddening and never long enough or deep enough.
“More,” Alice moaned in frustration. She grabbed his smooth head and pulled him close for a kiss. Her legs locked around his waist. It was clear what she demanded and she demanded more.
A chuckle in her ear. The tension and frustration in her drained away. That deep voice moved her in ways she didn’t understand. One hand under her buttock and the other pressing her to him, he slid a few inches into her. His tail wrapped around her waist. There was no escaping the firm embrace. He moved deeper into, sheathing the rest of his cock.
His cock filled her in a way she had not experienced before. He reached all the way into the deep recesses, the places no one had ever reached. She moaned in pleasure. His hips moved forward and his shaft pumped into her. She moved her hips to meet him. The next thrust was more forceful, more sure. She wasn’t a fragile thing. She was built to take it. Murmuring encouragement, she matched his rhythm. She wanted it, all of it, all she could get. He moved more quickly now, thrusts shaking entire body. Her breasts jiggled with the force and there was nothing Alice could do to stop smiling.
He stopped and rearranged her, forcing her stomach down on the desk, ass in the air and legs spread wide. She felt the air on her pussy. She gave a little cry when his dick left her. Exposed, his fingers trace an invisible pattern on her behind, teasing her with a wonderful torture. She was empty and he knew exactly how to remedy the situation.
He crouched down. His face was near her pussy. Whiskers brushed her inner thigh. One finger, long and thin, spiraled down from her clit to the opening of her vagina.
“You giant tease,” she moaned.
One finger slid in and his tongue pressed against her clit. Pumping and pulling, deeper and pressing, driving her beyond reason. Her toes curled. Thighs quivered. Her breath came in ragged gasps, hot and fogging the surface of the desk. Another finger slide in. The increase in girth made her gasp in delight. And another. His tongue was amazing. It was impossible to think beyond that tongue as she rode the sensation to climax. The pressure and pull was intense and reduced her world to a single piece of anatomy, a signal that she would not be ignored. What had she done before this?
Finally, he righted and his with both webbed hands
on her hips, he entered her. Alice’s senses exploded. The polished wood lay against her stomach. Her breasts pressed firmly down on the desk. His smooth scaled hands gripped her hips. The barbed blue-green tail curled around her right foot. Her still damp hair rested against her neck and shoulders. Her own hand pathetically grasped at empty air.
The breeze from the open window brushed against her, leaving the lingering scent of the lake’s waters. Pleasure filled her. His enormous member filled her. The weight of him pushing against her, driving her forward on the desk with each thrust was intoxicating. Her right foot curled in pleasure. The tail flexed and squeezed her foot. There was nothing beyond this moment. She cried out.
Without withdrawing, he lifted her from desk. He was strong. His arms flexed as he carried her, one under her legs and the other careful placed under her breasts. His face nuzzled her neck, he whispered quiet words of reassurance. They walked backwards. The desktop pushed to the side and the chair overturned with clothes hastily abandoned on the floor: the small area of destruction their desire wrought.
Finally reaching their destination, he settled on the couch and arranged her on top of him.
Knees on the leather and her back to him, she began about her work. His hands cupped her breasts and pulled her close to him. In the later afternoon light, his fingers looked more green than blue against her skin. Another surge of desire coursed through her.
She took his left hand and spread the fingers wide. Gently she kissed the webbing between. He gave a long, low sigh. She slowly moved herself up on his cock, letting her tongue explore the next webbed joint on his hand, and then let gravity assist her back down again. The other hand squeezed her breast. His tail thumped against the couch.
One thump.
She arched her back and twisted her head, trying to find his talented mouth. Her arms rose above her head; she continued to move up and down on his cock. A little up, and little down.
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