(Note: this story turned out a bit meaner and darker than my usual fare. It involves utterly non-consensual male captivity, body transformation, and magical chastity. Scenes of sexual contact between characters may not include the necessary communication for valid consent, but do not involve any in-the-moment physical force, blackmail, or reluctance. All characters are, of course, over 18.)
***
"One more for the road?" Dylan asked the woman from the bar, whose name he was very much hoping not to be quizzed on.
He pressed his morning erection against her still-naked ass to underscore the question.
"Ha, you mean the one you already promised me?" the woman answered, rolling onto her back and pushing down on his shoulders. "Or did you forget?"
Dylan felt himself wince, recalling his impulsive, hazy-minded promise to pay her back with oral in the morning. He'd cum early and hard last night (difficult to avoid when she'd let him stay in her mouth so long before moving on to her pussy). Afterward, he'd been hit with such an irresistible wave of pleasant tiredness that he couldn't do much but mumble nonsense into her pillows.
"I'm so hard already," he complained, keeping his cock against her skin to prove it, even if it was only the skin of her thigh. "And you're
so
hot."
She really was. Dylan often exaggerated his flattery, but that was impossible with this statuesque marvel he'd snagged for the night.
"So?" she asked.
"So, I'll be all distracted," he tried to explain.
"You mean
horny
," said the woman. "I like you horny."
"But I'll be rushing," Dylan tried to reason with her. "Wouldn't you rather wait and put me to work on you when my head's clear enough to take all the time you need?"
"That gamble didn't work out for me so well last night, did it?"
"That was night, though," he said. "I'm not going to fall asleep again."
She trailed a finger thoughtfully along his jaw and narrowed her eyes.
"You expect me to believe you're the kind of man who'd lick your own juices off of me, just to keep a promise?"
Dylan brought his shoulders up in a sheepish gesture, rather than outright lie.
"Not much of a giver, are you?" she scolded him indulgently.
"Oh, I'll give it to you, all right," said Dylan, grinding his way up her leg to her pussy, pressing slightly on the entrance. "Doesn't that tempt you at all? Getting to feel
this
inside you?"
"Bad boy," she slapped his ass lightly. "But don't worry. I'm good at finding a use for useless lovers. Especially when they're as pretty as you."
"Useless?" he said with only mock offense.
"
Useless
," she taunted in a whisper, wrapping her hand hard around his cock.
He pressed himself toward her again, but the woman kept her grip tight, preventing him from either advancing or retreating.
"Please?" he asked in his sweetest voice.
The woman sighed dramatically. "Fine, but not here. I want you on the couch this time."
She slid out from under him with startling ease and walked down the hallway of her cute little beachside cottage.
Dylan followed close behind her, not asking why. The explanation would probably be an hour long and involve the position of the moon or the flow of her chi or something like that. Whatever it was, if it ended with his cock inside her, he was happy to skip ahead.
"Have you ever been with a mermaid?" the woman asked.
"Uh, I don't think so," said Dylan. "How does that one work? Do we sneak a quickie down on the beach somewhere? Or do I just tie your legs together right here and see where it leads?"
He caught up behind her, put his hands on the outsides of her thighs, and pressed inward, playfully.
She laughed. "No, I mean an
actual
mermaid. Like the ones out on Mermaid Island."
"Mermaid Island?" asked Dylan.
"Out in the bay. It's close enough to see from land. It only takes one of those little rental motorboats to reach it."
"Motorboats, you say?" Dylan turned her around, pushed her naked breasts into full cleavage mode, and lowered his lips to the crease.
"I'm serious," she said, digging her fingers into his hair and pulling his head up to face her. "I've met mermaids. They're
ravenous
."
"More ravenous than you?" he asked, kissing her mouth, trying to recapture the feel of it around his cock last night.
"You don't know the meaning of the word yet." She bit him on the shoulder. "But you could."
She broke away from him to unfold her futon couch.
"I'm not used to my dates trying to wingmanβ uh, wingwoman me," Dylan said. "Not sure how to feel about it."
He was planning to make his way around as many beds of this resort town as he could before summer's end, of course, but he was polite enough not to say it out loud
"I take care of my friends," said the woman, moving on from the couch to reel back a set of curtains.
The curtains opened, not over a window, but over an aquarium that took up most of a wall.
The glass was mirrored on the outside, but Dylan could just make out a large shape turning itself around in the water.
"What do you have in there?" he asked, coming closer to block the glare with his shadow. "A great white?"
"Oh, no, he's just a great big giant angelfish," she laughed, making kissy faces at the glass. "Aren't you? Who's my big angelfish boy? Yes, you!"
The shape thumped against the glass.
"You'll get your breakfast pellets soon," she promised, stroking the glass. "I like to let him wake up gradually, like in nature," she explained to Dylan. "Curtain first, then I'll turn the tank lights on later so he can be beautiful for me. But this time of day, the view is perfect just the way it is."
She climbed onto the flattened futon on her hands and knees, body parallel to the mirrored surface of the tank.
"Ah," said Dylan, with a slow smile. That was much better than chi or astrology. "You like to watch while you play?"
He positioned himself behind her, between her legs.
"You don't mind, do you?" she asked.
"I... could be persuaded to take it as a compliment," he said.
"Good," said the woman, lifting her hips and grinding back against him. "I want to see every muscle in action. I want to remember them clenching and flexing."
Dylan found himself flexing a little extra as he thrusted into her, more aware than usual of everything that went into that simple motion, the strength of his own ass and thighs. He had to admit, he didn't often give them their fair share of credit, next to his arms and chest.
"They're dangerous, you know," the woman warned, flipping her long hair over one shoulder to look at him. "Mermaids."
This was getting oddly insistent, but still not the worst conversation he'd had during sex.
"Right, they're into drowning sailors and all that?" he asked.
"And so much more," said the woman, rocking happily back and forth against his hardness. "They're full of dark magic. Once you find them, you could end up under their spell, and never be able to leave them again."
"Oh, so
that's
the appeal," Dylan caught on. "Is that what you want? To enchant me and keep me all to yourself?"
"Me? Never," she laughed.
Her pet bumped against its tank wall behind him, shaking it harder than before, but the woman didn't seem concerned.
"Does it scare you?" she asked. "The thought of falling under someone's spell?"
"Me? Never," Dylan joked back.
"Never scared?"
"Never gonna happen."
"Ooh," said the woman. "That just makes it juicier to think about, doesn't it?"
Instead of poking her in the ribs, as he might have during clothed conversation, he plunged deeper into her, hoping to create a strong enough sensation to distract her from the topic.
She gasped and took one hand off the futon to rub her clit.
"Harder," she encouraged.
Dylan obliged, grabbing her hips for leverage and pounding with all the strength in those undercredited muscles of his.
"Come on," the woman goaded him, though her tone said she was enjoying herself plenty. "If you're going to insist on only using your dick, you could at least use
all
of it."
Dylan pulled out almost all the way and then pushed back in as deep as he could fit, re-stretching every inch of her around his sizeable head.