The Mermaids New Slave Ch 01

Man and the sea are inexorably connected to one another. From the time we crawled from its watery bosom, whether by the hand of the immaculate or not, we have been trying to go back home for centuries. Anyone will tell you that the sea is a hard, unforgiving, and often cruel place to put your feet; it hasn't stopped people from trying to tame her wild beauty. Some would say that we conquered her and her untold bounty, but all my problems stemmed from this false sense of security that we humans have built up.

I'm twenty-three and my life lacks direction. I signed on to crew one of the many supertankers that deliver cheap crap from China across the Panama Canal to even cheaper consumers in Europe and America. I graduated college with a history degree and a minor in drama. My favored field would have been myth and culture, but when you can't find a job where you want you take what you can get.

Life on a super tanker isn't that great. The ships are big and certainly impressive in a utilitarian kind of way. However, the lack any real sense of grandeur or majesty. Call me a romantic, but the old girl was ugly and dependable if not sexy and coquettish. She was well-kept, but hardly gleaming with bright, shiny newness. I was part of a fourteen-man crew. You didn't need a whole lot of people to do this kind of sailing. The computers and people more competent than I am take care of the heavy lifting. I was actually brought on board because they had to fill a minimum headcount. I'm hardly what one would call qualified for the job.

Still, despite the barren and slightly-rusted innards that represented the global economy more than exploration and wonder, there was still something profound about walking above decks. The deep ageless blue of the Pacific, the agitated power of the Atlantic, and my smallness when I looked out upon it all touched me deeply. Despite these feelings of awe I never thought I was any real danger. Ship wrecks were less common than plane crashes or death by falling coconut, what did I have to worry about.

November 19

It was about 20:49 when the storm hit. Oh, it had been raining and fussing in this squalid part of the Pacific, but I was safe and dry in my tiny cabin with its books, TV, and posters of pinup girls I wish were naked by this point in the journey.

I was trying to get to bed and reading the thickest book in my small little library. I was yawning and my plan was going off without a hitch. Soon I'd be in la-la land just like everyone but the poor bastard on watch. They couldn't technically make me take watch, but I still offered. It was just good fortune it wasn't my night.

Twenty minutes later there came this terrible yawning groan of stressed metal. You hear it in movies about submarines all the time. However, being on the inside of a cavernous supertanker made it sound like Satan's very own devil-whale was going to come and drag you down to a watery hell.

I was up and getting dressed. Boots were hitting bare metal flooring and people were shouting. We all made it to the bridge and from the glass I saw what was happening to our ship. It seemed to me that there was more angry cloud than ocean. It spit lightning and roared its displeasure. It was like black foam, whipping and frothing from the mouth of some great rabid god. I felt the tanker pitch and roll under me. I felt it begin to rock from side to side.

Giant metal corrugated containers were being thrown overboard willy-nilly like the wind was looking for something. I would think back on it later and recall reports of a hurricane, but we had no reason to believe it would have shifted so radically toward us. There was a sudden great heave, and I was suddenly seeing double. I was suddenly nauseous and the metal taste of blood was in my mouth. How had I ended up on the floor.

The skipper of the tanker ordered a man to bring me to the sickbay. The only problem was that it could only be reached by going outside, if only for a brief moment. I was in no mood to protest this though, so I went without objection. The cold wind of the hurricane and the biting sting of sleet and small pebbles of hail did not make me feel any better.

There was a loud clap of thunder and the boat rocked once again. I was heaved up over the rail and into the sea below. My escort tried to throw a life preserver, but to no avail. I was already gone.

November 21

I remember waking and feeling cold. The room was dark... dark and shiny? Surely I'm drowned and this is the great void, the inky blackness that death is. Well, if that was true the person who said dead people no longer feel any pain is full of crap. I ached all over. I was sore and thirsty and it was all I could do to roll over on my stomach. Something was off. I could tell that I was in some kind of cave by now, but why was the ground so soft.

I realized that I was naked in a very, very large mission-style bed. It was heaped high with pillows and covers. Now I knew I had to be dead, where else would the freaking bed come from? I remember the water all around me and I remember blacking out, but nothing about a bed. I rolled back onto my back and tried to sit up. After some effort I managed to get somewhat upright.

That's when she walked in. She wasn't horribly tall. I had about a head on her, but you couldn't call her petite. She stood about five feet and nine inches. She looked perpetually wet, her hair clinging to her scalp, it itself being very short and cute... sporty even... oddly chic... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

She had large breasts, probably about DD or a small, small E cup. Light rosy pink nipples adorned them. Her legs were long, but thick, not fatty, but intensely muscular. She had large womanly hips and a skinny waist. Her stomach was six well-defined muscles but she still managed to back on the proper amount of fat for her curves.

Now the weird stuff... her eyes were one solid color. She had whites but there was no pupil just dark-green pools of color. She had rough looking patches of skin at her joints and on her legs around the fins. They weren't large, but she had fins. Probably three-quarters of an inch high and from mid forearm to elbow and on the sides of her legs from knee to mid-calf, she also had webbed feet and hands. Her hands only had about to the first knuckle but her feet were completely webbed to just before the nail. Her nails, by the way, were expertly manicured.

She sashayed over to the bed a put her large firm bottom right down on it. She smiled at me with big, pillowy, pouty lips and green eyes. "How are we feeling?" She asked in English with a fairly thick but not indiscernible Spanish accent.

"I've... been... better?" I said hesitantly.

"Good." She replied. Her voice was a low tenor, not sultry but warm and inviting. My brain had a faint idea what I was looking at, but I didn't want to believe it. Plus, it could have been considered rude. She put her hand on my forehead, bending over to do so. Her breasts took on a lovelier shape as gravity took effect.

Manners be damned, "Are you a mermaid?" I asked, "Or am I just dead."

She giggled, "Yes and no." She turned her head and pulled an ear out of the way. Behind it small and discrete were little slits, gills.

"Thank you for saving me." I said.

She giggled again, lower, "Do not mention it, lover." She looked at her nails, "Besides, you look like a man who knows how to pay his obligations."

"Well, I wouldn't want to appear ungrateful. Err... how did you now I speak English?" I posed.

"You talk in your sleep, and mermaids live a long time, I've picked up a few tongues."

"Interesting." I replied, "I guess I better see about leaving this... I'm going to assume cove... and back to the mainland."

"No so fast, lover." Her voice got a little harder. She straddled my chest her naked sex clearly within sight. I felt the weight of her. She was heavy and powerful. "I own you now, rule of the sea. I need a new slave, and you're it."

"Look," I said indignantly, "I can't be your—" She clamped a hand around my mouth. She smelled of sea flowers and fresh breezes.

"You don't have a choice, besides... you're going to take my first offer." She pulled out a small bottle and opened it. From it she took a pearlescent drop of water. It was a tear, or it looked to be one.

"We mermaids produce one egg every one hundred years." I was wrong then. She offered no other explanation she just shoved the little orb in my mouth and held my nose and mouth until I swallowed.

"Now you're mine. It's not magic... simple narcotics... you'll find lying with me to have other beneficial effects upon your body."

She was right though. I began to feel warm and aroused. My cock was growing hard. She yanked back the covers as she stood up. She appraised my hard length with an appreciative eye. She turned around and promptly sat on my face. Her large ass cheeks nearly smothered me, but she was a pro. Her cunt was forced into my mouth. She was wet, and she tasted sweet. I mean that literally. She moaned as I began sucking her wetness, drinking it in.

"Good, slave." She moaned groping one of her large breasts. Her hand wrapped around my cock and stroked me. She seemed to be in no hurry. I at her pussy up and down and she moaned. She road and bumped against me. I loved the feeling, and I couldn't think straight. Her egg, whatever it was strong.

I speared her with my tongue and she forced a whole other inch of my wriggling muscle into her womanhood. "Yes." She said smoothly. "I'm going to enjoy you." I came soon after. My sperm coated her hand. I thought she would be mad, but she seemed to revel in the sexual fluid. She licked it greedily from her hand.

My hands were on her ass holding her on my tongue. It would be teen whole minutes before I got her to cum .She screamed and let go. Ounce after ounce of the stuff flowed into my mouth. She screamed at me to drink it like a good slave and I did in my confused state.

She came in a flood. I couldn't drink anymore. It exploded warm and thick against my face. It flowed copiously down onto the bed and ejaculated with such force I some shoot up from between her ass cheeks. She removed herself from me leaving me gasping like a drowned man.

"did you like your mistress's nectar, lover?" She cooed kissing my face and lips hotly. I needed coughing up some of it and kissing her back. I could only imagine what would be next.