"Have fun!" And with that, the human was off. Even with her back facing Marina, It was plain that Violet was not like other girls. From afar, it seemed that she must be wearing a backpack hanging over her chest. Only when closer, as Marina was, could it be seen that she carried no satchel, but rather the swaying, soft mounds were flesh. Titflesh.
Marina couldn't help but be encouraged at the human's progress; so many humans afflicted with preposterous breasts became recluses, shutting themselves away in fear and horror at their deformity. But those days were fading; since Magic returned to the Earth, the cases of runaway fertility spells, dubious potions of lactation, and misfiring amulets of womanhood had come with a price; The innumerable libido spells conjured both by and at human women could easily backfire. But that didn't bother Violet anymore; she had resolved that her breasts would *never* slow her down, even though they did weight almost 30 pounds. But these days, it wasn't so difficult as in those first, early years.
Her human friend was going forth proudly, onto the beach, in a string bikini specially designed to accommodate her Double K-cup bosom. Marina didn't really understand bra-sizes, but anyone could see how big the girl was. It had taken the human years to finally become strong enough to walk as she once did. Most impressive, and Marina owed a lot to the human. Really, there were two reasons why Marina had come here, to Panama City Beach, Violet was one of them. As for the other....
Marina recited a brief litany of mystical words in an arcane tongue, a litany that she could easily recite in her sleep. The air shimmered as the fae completed her spell; tiny twinkles of sparkling light appeared in the air, nearby the silver-scaled fish tail poking from beneath the suds, where the legs would have been on a human. The tail blurred, shimmered, rippling as though vibrating rapidly. Then; it melted. The halves of her fish-fin separated, blurring and shimmering...elongating, lightening in color.
She pinioned her human legs, examining them in the fluorescent light. Sleek curves, good muscle tone without being intimidating, and dainty feet. She flexed her cottony-soft, alabaster toes. Up close, one could see a sparkling pattern of iridescent patches seemingly beneath the skin, shining like flecks of mother-of-pearl; the last vestige of her piscine anatomy. The few men that noticed it said it made her more exotic. She rose and glided out of the tub, and then the bathroom. Years ago, when she had first mastered the Land-walking spell, she had been unsteady and awkward walking on human legs, but Marina had by now fully adapted to life on Earth, as well as walking.
She'd watched enough T.V., and frankly she needed to get herself off. Upon entering the main motel room, she opened the blinds revealing a first-floor view of the beach. A human woman would have been scandalized at the thought of strangers on a beach being able to see her naked, sudsy body with but a glance through the glass; but as a fae, that was Marina's fervent hope. Like all fae, Marina was indeed a slut, and yet....well it wasn't quite that simple. There were many delicious human males that would love the chance to bury themselves into her moist, very human-looking cunt. And she knew it, she had come to understand the male animal, because ever since coming to Earth, the male sex drive had been her preoccupation.
With a throaty sigh, she threw her naked, nubile form upon one of the motel beds, and dragged out a walkman from her gym bag. She attached earphones to her head and selected a CD track at random. Yes...yes....more wondrous than all the pearlescent splendor of the jewel-encrusted, underwater cities mermaids lived in back on Faerie. Marina had never really liked her home that much; with magic declining, and the Fae races waning, her underwater home had been almost consigned to doom. For the water-dwelling fae had suffered the worst. As magic faded, Fae fertility declined, females becoming far out of proportion to their males. No where was this clearer than in the seas of Faerie. Marina couldn't remember when she'd seen a man. Yes, the land-dwellers had some men. Those few remaining. But her terrestrial cousins horded their males; since their wasn't enough cock to go around for the elves, pixies, and nymphs on land, how could they possibly share with the mermaids or water nymphs; whose males had faded away long ago?
Back home, back on faerie it was nothing but women. Everywhere Marina went were women doing female things, having feminine discussions. For year after year after year. She really didn't know how long, and if pressed, couldn't really tell you even how old she was; time progressing differently on Faerie. The mermaid knew only that it had been a long, long time, and that she came to loathe the place. There were no words to express her joy when the Conjunction occurred; when fae began the Great Crossing back to the Earth. Marina could only express her joy by rutting away on the hard dicks of the abundant, male population.
Blaring in her delicate ears where lewd, crude sounds of morally offensive rap music. Angry, aggressive diatribes against society, government, and humans with different shades of skin. Marina had discovered this sort of music at about the same time she realized her problem; and at the same time her mission. At first, she thought that breeding once or twice would satisfy her, and that her life would be much the same as that of a human woman's. But she was thwarted by her own primal, lustful instinct. The more Marina had sex, the more she was filled with cock, the greater became her hunger. Each time she gave birth to another half-human daughter, she felt even more aware of her womanhood, even more sexual, even more instinctively slutty. Human women she met often felt satisfied after giving birth to 3 or 4 children, unwilling to suffer the process again. Yet with the silver-haired mermaid, each birthing only made her hunger for more. In time, her true purpose was clear; she could count on no one but herself to repopulate the aquatic fae. There were so few left, and fewer still that made the Crossing. Marina would need to birth a nation from her fertile loins.
And yet....she came to realize that most human males were not suitable for her particular need. The pulse-pounding beat of the rappers in her ears reminded her of her resolution, as she ran her hand over ample bosom, down through the flat plane of her belly, to rub against her now-human pussy, before tickling her new legs. She needed not just any man, but rather the rudest, most aggressive, most angry humans. She could no longer tolerate fawning, polite men that tried to woo her with clever wit. She needed the dangerous humans, the most violent. That was why she loved the Rap music; these men were eternally angry, boasted freely of committing dangerous crimes within this highly-structured modern society. Their derring-do, their unrepentant aggression, and most of all their passionate lusts stirred the Mermaid's soul.
She couldn't stop laughing when she watched that old, Disney cartoon of 'The Little Mermaid'. *This* mermaid didn't need or want a handsome 'Prince Charming' to woo her with flower petals and moonlit strolls. She wanted to be Taken. Taken by a thug. Ravished like the lusty wench she was. She would lay back like this, envisioning her favorite Rap-stars, these seething, angry humans. She envisioned what they would do to her if she fell into their power. She shuddered with the imagining of the coarse, powerful hands upon her silky-smooth, faerie flesh. If these unabashedly lustful thugs could see her now, a naked girl with breasts bigger than honey-dew melons, writhing in ecstatic yearning upon a hotel bed, listening with rapt attention to their own music..if only. She almost didn't need the sex-toy she withdrew next from her gym bag.
To call the Lothario-3000 a dildo was an insult. The device was composed of the finest latex, internal vibrators, and even a gel-pack heated with exothermic chemical reactions to better simulate the real thing. Marina of course, had chosen the black one; truly a work of art; though such conveniences had become big-business with the arrival of the Fae. She imagined it was a cock from one of these wrathful, libidinous rappers; men that would claim her, men that would ravish her. It was what both she, and all aquatic fae needed. There would be hard times ahead; the survival of her kind would demand hard choices, hard decisions, and harder men. Aggressive, risk-taking men. Uncompromising males of great ambition and greater lust. Her womb would breed males that would not ask permission, but would take what they could. And as such, that was the only sort of man Marina would allow to impregnate her anymore.
