Curses Ch 08

Chapter 8 - Sirens - Ocean Bound

Being more than a little wobbly, I needed Jumbo Jim's help to get dressed. First he returned my belt, complete with my purse and knife, although he had to put it high up between my boobs and my swollen belly. Even then, he still needed to let it out several extra notches. Then he restored my bustiere, which he accomplished by using twine lacing so as to leave it loose enough to mostly cover my boobs, belt and the top of my belly. Satisfied by his handiwork, he said, "I suppose ye'll want to hide your demanding little cunny, too." He found his sea coat and put it on me, adding, "This will keeps yer warm, too. Don't forget to bring it back."

He stuffed my red bandanna into a pocket; then, once I was sorted to his satisfaction he carried me up the steep stairs from Venus's 'tween deck into the entrance hall. There he gave me a parting kiss. Being a pirate, he also gave me a friendly grope, with two fat fingers deep into my aforementioned and still drizzling pussy.

"Thank you, Captain James, sir," I said.

He laughed. "And I thank you, Mistress Danielle." He gave me a friendly shove out the door and I tottered down his front walk.

In spite of - or especially with - the big black coat, I felt like an even greater spectacle on the street than on my outbound journey. Although, barring the scar on my face, none of my various new attributes were visible, and I was exhibiting considerably less skin. On the other hand, I had a serious 'drunken sailor' thing going on ... my knee-hinges seemed to have locked up.

Yet the few people I passed didn't react, and I wondered if, like yesterday in the park, they could even see me. And then a teen on an electric scooter slowed to a stop beside me.

"Hiya," he said. "Do you need a hand?"

That reminded me that some kids had cheerfully teased me earlier when I'd walked, nearly bare-assed, to Jim's place. "Um. Hi. No, thanks -- I'm almost home."

"Okay, then. Have a good night. Cool tat, by the way."

I'd forgotten the skull-and-crossbones tattoo on my neck. "Thanks."

Then I noticed he wore the embarrassed look people get when your fly is open (remember I'd only been a girl - intermittently - for four days). That look where they've seen your stuff but don't know how to tell you. I had, as a guy does, simply let my coat fall open while I chatted. So, although I myself couldn't see it over my boobs and obscenely swollen belly, my most visible tattoo was currently the downward diving bird on my mons veneris, which was pointing directly at my bald, leaking pussy. "Thanks," I repeated, having given him time for a proper inspection.

"You're welcome." He took my flash as deliberate -- and I suppose it was. With a polite smile he added, "And thank you -- but don't forget that the cab drivers around here can make change for doubloons." He nodded to the clinking purse that swung in the near vicinity of my exposed cunt, to which he'd already politely drawn my attention.

With that, he mounted his little machine and rode off. This served to channel my thoughts from today's nautical naughtiness to yesterday's motorcycle madness. Letting my coat continue to flap loose, I worried my still-elongated clit and wobbled onward.

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"Whoa," said the naked-as-ever Olivia, once I'd slipped back into her basement bedroom and she'd unwrapped me. "So that's what I looked like!" Like she didn't own a mirror. "And did he seriously fuck you with yer boots on?"

"Um. Yes?" What I looked like, of course, was rode hard and put ashore wet -- to slightly mix metaphors. Olivia began to trace my many tattoos. Of course, her caresses soon evolved into groping, which soon moved on to licking and nibbling.

I fondled her tits, thinking to join in, but she just told me to lay back and enjoy myself. "Just stand still for a bit - you've had a hard pirate afternoon." While I pondered how to parse that (the answer being: both ways) she crouched on the floor in front of me. Abruptly, she laughed and said, "Holy fuck, you really were totally full of seaman!" In the remote case I missed that double entendre, she mimed a Popeye arm, while using her other hand to scoop out and dine on Jim's cum, which was still burbling out of me. The surprise was that she then shoved her hand deep into my extremely well greased pussy.

"Oh God Yes!" Apparently I was still up for more fuckage. Even so, as I gazed at my bulging belly, I thought to add, "Is it possible for me to get pregnant?"

Olivia cranked her hand around a bit, then gave me most of her forearm, before saying, "Probably not -- I never have. It would be really interesting to see, though."

I filed that info away for later because, well, ARM IN MY CUNT. I toppled backward onto the mattress, and she followed along, still pumping her arm - just to see me writhe, I think.

After I'd been fucked into a state of semi-stupor, Olivia grinned and said, "Time to take those boots off you." After licking her sticky fingers clean, she got a grip on both heels and began to pull.

They slid off more easily than I expected. And while you'd think nothing could surprise me by now, you'd be wrong: as my garter tattoos were exposed, I saw they now marked where my skin merged into the green scales that continued on down to my ... fins. At some point in the proceedings on-board the Venus I had been transformed into a mermaid. Or rather, as Oli explained, an old-school, Starbucks-styled, double-finned siren.

Well, a piratical and possibly pregnant siren, in my case. I'd been both fucked and forked, and I had no idea in which order. Come to that, I couldn't remember when my hair had grown to where it now hung in glossy dark ringlets all the way down my back. My best guess was that both fins and hair made their appearance at the end, when Jim and I were locked together humming sea shanties.

"Ta-da!" said Olivia, still wearing a big grin. "You'll be happier outside in the pool."

Still slightly stunned (and yes - lately I seemed to find myself in that state quite often), I simply shrugged. It was obvious that without the boots I wasn't walking anywhere.

Oli stood and stretched her fresh lean body prettily, then disappeared into the back yard. She soon returned with what looked like an oversized child's red wagon. "Mom uses this for moving stuff around the garden. But with some blankets in there you'll be good to go."

Actually, the pool did sound nice. Dragging my brace of fishtail leg-fins behind, I clambered into the wagon and allowed my new friend and mentor to tow me to the pool-deck. I sort of did a tuck-and-roll into the water, and then startled myself by swimming a mad, spiraling circuit underwater. Eventually, I surfaced to check in with Olivia.

She was sitting on a floating inflatable armchair thing, and seemed to have a yellow rubber duckie between her legs. "You know you were under for at least ten minutes, right?"

"Huh?"

"I'm thinking Jim sent you back to me as a fully fledged siren." Laughing, she added, "Also, you were leaving a silvery trail of his cum behind you, down there." She took hold of her bath toy and pulled it away from herself. Then she waved it in the air to show that the duck was basically the handle for a twelve-inch yellow rubber dildo. "Put this bung in yourself, girl!"

She tossed the thing over toward me where, like an iceberg, it floated with the phallic bit underwater. On reflection, this is possibly a bad analogy ... I mean that most of it was below the surface, and not to suggest that icebergs have, as a rule, ginormous yellow concealed cocks.

In any case, having crammed the duck's dick home, I ceremoniously displayed it to Olivia as I slowly rolled back underwater. My swimming this time was somewhat erratic; she waited until I'd settled down a bit before sliding off her chair to join me. She'd timed it so as to land on my back; and as she rode me I felt her transform into a siren, like me - except that she'd rather importantly added a dolphin-cock to match the ones illustrated in my tattoos. Seeing the huge thing, I ditched the duckie dong (thereby releasing a great gout of pent-up sailor spunk). We swam on, but now she was free to slide under me, so that we were cruising face to face.

We spent the next half hour in constant contact -- first attempting to dock on the move, our four tails fluttering, and then experimenting with a more entrenched mating, as it were: she gradually stuffed the entirety of her huge cock inside me. The last ten minutes was spent swimming in tight formation, belly to belly, as we fucked on the move. This is when I finally grasped that the pool was way, way bigger under water than above. Possibly the giant clams and colorful fish among the rocks and sand, twenty feet down, should have been a clue.

When at last we surfaced, naked and still locked together face to face, we spotted Grace reading in a deckchair nearby. Or rather I did, and I paddled us a quarter-circle around until Olivia could see her too. At first, I thought, shit -- we look just like movie mermaids. Then I realized that was dumb -- we were just girls peeking out from the surface of a backyard pool. And then I remembered that when I first threw myself in, from about where she was now sitting, I could see everything -- right down to some ornamental glass beads on the bottom. Glancing around us now, I could easily see our bare skin transition to our scaly green legs ... not to mention the fins where our feet ought to be.

"Hiya, Mom!"

"Hello, ladies. Lovely day for a swim, isn't it?"

"It sure is, Grace," I contributed.

"I remember when I was your age - I could play in the pool with my friends all day," she told us, with a big smile. Wearing a swimsuit instead of a dumpy dress, scarf and apron, she looked to be in her early forties; between the smile and her long blond hair, I realized that she was kinda hot.

I looked back to Oli, and felt her massive cock twitch inside me. Did her mom's reference to 'play' mean what it sounded like?

She just gave me a little shrug. She'd said before that she had never been sure whether Grace was truly aware of her 'daughter' Olivia's basement sex-play over the years. I suppose she had never been caught in the act before -- but now our merry copulation had been either exposed or somehow blanked out, and 'Mom' was content regardless. So she - Oli - chose to double down. Using her fins, she drove herself straight up and even deeper into me. Caught by surprise, I found myself launched half out of the water. More than half, actually - I could very briefly feel water cascade off our carnal junction, the base of her delphinic dick undoubtedly exposed between us, before we both plunged back under the surface ... into our tropical ocean.

We were still tethered together, and so we spiraled one over the other as we sped off. Neither of us had the slightest idea how mermaids (or dolphins) actually 'did it'; nor did we have any better notion about the design of their genitals. So I suspected they maybe didn't actually knot together and fuck for ages. But as Olivia intermittently pumped yet another load of cum into me, it hardly mattered.

Both of us were orgasming steadily, and swimming blindly ... until, temporarily sated, we finally coasted to a stop, at a shoal of shallow rocks. After some hugs and smoochies, we disconnected ourselves and surfaced. Sure enough, there was a reef topped by a tall cairn of stones. We hauled out onto a broad shelf, and sat together basking in the sunshine.