Sea Slimes

"I still think this is a bad idea," Snatch muttered. He drew the whetstone across the blade of his scythe, grimacing at the harsh scraping sound. "Bad idea. Bad job. Bad partner to do it with."

"And I still think you're being a jerk about that." Snatch looked up from sharpening his scythe. Larya, a dark-haired woman with bright green eyes to match her plain green skirt, sat against a smooth-barked, moss-covered tree. The tree had warped itself into a strange sort of S-shape, presenting a perfect sort of 'chair' for her to sit on.

It looked very comfortable, compared to the boulder he was resting against. Druids never had to rough it in the wilderness.

"Merfolk, Larya.

Fey.

" He again ran the whetstone along the notched, bloodstained blade. "We're working for fey. That

never

ends well. I don't care how much they're paying us; we should have told them to shove their problems up their ... whatever it is fish shit out of."

"Well, now you're just being an asshole." Larya pouted. "We've known plenty of nice fey! Suisshu, Lim—"

"I hate Lim, though."

"I know you do."

"Are there

any

'nice' fey that you haven't ended up screwing at some point?"

Larya went bright red. "O—well, Ariadne, for one! Please! It doesn't happen

that

often!"

"

Doesn't happen that ...

" Snatch bit his tongue, holding back a thousand curses—half of which he himself didn't know the meaning of. The thief lowered his scythe, locking dark eyes with Larya's green ones. "

Ever

since I hired you five months ago—"

"We're partners, you ass."

He flipped her an obscene gesture with one hand without slowing. "—you have spent

every

mission fucking something." He whisked the whetstone across the blade, punctuating his words with the ugly screech of the metal. "Every. Single. One."

"What?" Larya's eyes widened. She glared, straightening her short green skirt. "That's ridiculous!"

"No. Fuck no." Snatch got up, strapping his scythe to his back. "First mission, you fuck the muse sprite.

And

the kelpie. And probably the kitten sprite!"

"Catgirl," Larya corrected.

Snatch gritted his teeth, ignoring her. "

Then

there's the time with the Arachne Girl, the time with the goddamn

vampire

... oh, and let's not forget the time you got caught in quicksand for ten minutes and ended up covered in mud, sucking your own goddamn breasts and getting off with a—"

"Okay, h-hey, that's just a misrepresentation," Larya said, getting up as well. She was keeping her legs pretty close together now. "Th-the quicksand was enchanted. I wasn't myself."

"My point is," Snatch growled, "fey are

extra trouble

when you're around. No offense. If this is gonna be the last mission we go on together, just try to keep it under control, got it?"

Larya rolled her eyes.

Snatch held in a sigh. It wasn't that he hated Larya. He didn't even dislike her, really. She was handy in a fight, and she was a decent person to hang out around. The trouble was, sometimes she was

too

decent. She always acted like she owed the world something—and always tried to make him act that way, too.

He was looking forward to the end of this mission, and the return to solitude, and moral simplicity, it would bring. "Look." He held up his hands in a manner he hoped was conciliatory. "I don't want this to be another situation where we meet these merfolk, you screw, like, twenty of them, and suddenly we have to start giving a shit about their personal problems. We're not here to be heroes, especially not for fey. We're here on a job. You gonna be alright with that?"

Larya crossed her arms. After a moment's thought, she giggled. "Fine, fine. No hero-ing. In fact, if we see any starving merfolk orphans on the side of the road, let's throw rocks at them."

"

Druid.

"

"Kidding! Got it. No hanky-panky on the job." She crossed her fingers, winking. "Druid's honor. Dry as a duck. "

~~~~

"

Oh! Oh!

" Ambere let out a keening, dolphin-like cry. "Stop! Oh, stop, please! Oh,

gods

!"

Her eel-like tail thrashed in the water, sending bubbles violently churning to the surface. It was the only part of her still free of ...

it

.

The sucking on her breasts wouldn't stop, no matter how hard she begged. Ambere moaned, her hands held fast to keep her from trying to escape—or pleasuring herself further.

Had the region of the Weeping Sea Ambere was currently in contained a single living creature besides herself, the creature would have seen a scarlet-haired mermaid writhing and moaning in response to nothing. Her eyes were wild and desperate, but her arms stayed stiffly at her sides. Her long hair drifted, framing her heart-shaped face like a halo.

Had the creature looked more closely, it would have noticed one small irregularity. Her breasts were definitely not behaving normally. Indeed, the large orbs were bouncing, and

squishing

, as if something was squeezing them—perhaps even

suckling

at them.

Had the creature looked even closer still, it would have been equally damned. Nowadays, the Slick Trench was avoided by merfolk and sea beasts for a reason. Even the crueler water fey stayed clear of it nowadays. Ambere's curiosity had led her into many scrapes and scuffles in the past, and this time, it would be her unmaking.

She whimpered, feeling another deliciously depraved slurp against her tingling nipples.

From behind, there came a feminine giggle. Ambere looked about, but she could see nothing. And then another slurp ran over her breasts, and she forgot even that curiosity.

A tickling sensation began at the tips of her nipples. Slowly, it became an itch. Then an ache.

She let out a hoarse scream as an intense wave of pleasure surged through her body, gripping her tightly and not letting go. Her hyper-sensitized breasts began lactating a strange pale liquid at an alarmingly fast rate.

She squealed with glee even as her heart plummeted. What? What was ... oh ...

ohhh...

"

So hard to think,"

a girl cooed in her ear. "

Feels so nice. So nice. So nice.

The mermaid, overwhelmed by the sensation of pure bliss, could only sob in despair-tinged ecstasy as she slowly began to drift down, down, into the black of the Slick Trench.

~~~~

Larya sat at the edge of a large tide pool, kicking her feet in the salty clear water. She sighed. Nearby, Snatch—known to her as Alrek—was hard at work trudging over the muddy beach.

It had started to rain an hour or so ago. She'd offered to help, but Alrek, ever proud, had refused to let her near his prize.

It was a conch shell. A really, really big conch shell. Larya had easily been able to 'convince' the few tons of wet sand burying it to move aside. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that even cleared of sand, it was still very heavy, and Larya couldn't easily levitate it out of the hole—nor could she do much to help pull it across the beach to the rendezvous point.

She leaned back, enjoying the sunny rays. They only shone on her part of the beach. Sometimes it paid to be a druid.

The young druidess looked back up, biting her lip. Alrek had never much cared for her. There were a lot of walls there. Perhaps someone with infinite love and patience could peel back those layers to find the kindhearted soul beneath. Larya was not that someone. She wasn't sure such a person existed. It was hard working with him, but in another way, it was sort of freeing. Snatch had a blunt sort of common sense that she sometimes appreciated. Plus, it was nice to work with someone who

wasn't

constantly out to run her through.

Pity he had to be such an asshole about it.

"Hey, Alrek," she called, "almost done with that? I'm getting cold."

Snatch looked up at her, eyes widening with disbelief. The muscular, dark-haired thief was soaking wet, his patchy leather armor reeking that foul wet-dog odor it always got when it rained. Even from several meters away, the smell was impossible to miss. "Getting cold? You're in a fucking personal sunbeam. Maybe you could

help

instead of complain, druid."

"You wouldn't let me!"

"Ugh." Snatch gave the conch shell one last haul. The man-sized item had a chipped point, making it possible to blow through. "This better be close enough. I don't get paid to haul stuff around."

"Yes, you do," Larya said brightly. She got to her feet, picked up her yew staff, and walked over. "Remember? When that vampire harem captured us, and you had to do all those chores dressed like a ..." She trailed off, face heating up as she remembered what had happened next. This probably wasn't the best memory to bring up to Snatch right now.

He gave her a look that could wither a redwood. "Blow the shell."

Larya gave a nervous titter as she walked over, took a deep breath, and wrapped her lips around the shell's point. With all her might, she blew.

No sound came out.

She frowned, licked her lips, and blew again. This time, she kept blowing until her face was red. Still nothing. "Snatch, I think you broke it somehow."

"Think I—" Glaring, Snatch shoved her out of the way. "Let me try."

"

Please

do not," said a clear female voice.

Giving identical starts, Larya and Snatch turned.

Lying on the wet sand, just a few paces away, two merfolk watched them with half-lidded eyes.

One was a deeply-tanned mermaid with a bright red salmon tail and long white hair done up in elaborate braids. Despite her hair color, she looked young—scarcely over nineteen, with pert breasts and a dazzling, suggestive smile. It was the sort of smile that promised an extremely

inventive

mind.

The other was a pale merman, with a chiseled physique, short red hair, and a piercing gaze. His muscular arms gripped a trident, which he used to prop himself up—his lower body was long and flat, with strange wing-like fins that made Larya think of a manta ray. He looked her over and gave a little smirk.

Both of them were completely naked. Obviously, they had nothing below the waist, but what they had above was still very ... distracting. Larya's mouth was dry as tried in vain to look away from the mermaid's breasts. They weren't incredibly large, but they were very full and perky—and the mermaid's posture wasn't doing anything to hide them. Indeed, the merfolk seemed quite amused at her fascination.

Luckily, Alrek was ready to tag in. The thief stepped up, clearly trying to look intimidating despite his bedraggled condition. "You got here quick," he snapped.

"Why, of course," the mermaid said. She traced a finger over her left breast, locking eyes with Larya. "We can hear the conch horn with ease. You were hurting our ears, in fact—your pretty friend has quite the lung capacity."

"I'm not surprised," the merman said, eying Larya with a predatory look. He smiled, showing sharp teeth. "Quite the lips to blow with, too."

"Um ..." Larya bit her lip, still unable to tear her gaze off the pair. This was

always

a problem. "I-I, um, th-the ..."

"I, I, thuh, thuh, what?" The mermaid laughed. And yet her expression remained friendly and inviting. "Silly girl."

"What a silly girl," the merman agreed.

Larya could feel herself getting wet between her legs at the mockery—both at the sight of the two beauties, and the degrading mockery.

Damn it. Did they guess?

She closed her legs tight and breathed in deeply. She could tell this only amused and encouraged the merfolk further, but it beat letting them see anything ... dripping.

It wasn't her fault, she knew. Not totally. Druids always had trouble controlling themselves around fey. The rituals they performed had 'loosened' them from the mortal world, and everything about fey always quickly became utterly intoxicating. Of course, even among her peers, Larya had always 'excelled' ...

That wasn't all her fault, either, but what was done was done.

"Hey!" The rapid snapping of fingers woke her out of her reverie. The fey looked over sharply at a very irritated Snatch. "We're here to do a job, not fuck the locals. Now, if you don't want our help, you and she can do whatever you want together. I just thought you had an actual

problem.

"

He turned to leave. The merfolks' smug looks gave way to anguish, and Larya broke free of her stupor and straightened.

"Wait!" the mermaid cried. She pulled herself up the muddy beach by her arms—her graceful form was clearly not optimal for land travel—and grabbed Snatch's leg. It was a pathetically submissive gesture, and Larya's heart went out to her. "We

do

have one!"

Alrek's hand leaped for his scythe. Remembering how her partner reacted to being touched, Larya gulped and hurried over. She leaned down and gently took the mermaid's hand to clasp it with her own, smiling. "And we'd be happy to help. I know merfolk don't like dealing with land-dwellers in a, er, equal manner, but you

have

to treat my partner and I with respect, okay? You're the ones who want our help."

She lifted the mermaid up to eye level with some small difficulty. Larya was very strong for her size. "See? We're all equals here."

The merman pulled himself over and climbed onto a boulder, apparently not wishing to be the only one on the ground. He leaned over, eyes blazing. "Do not patronize us, druidess. I've netted dozens of landwhores just like you. Believe that you'll be begging for my touch before the moon's next rise."

Larya met his gaze, then quickly lowered her eyes. She shivered.

"Oh, be silent, Mylio." The mermaid rolled her turquoise eyes. She gripped Larya's shoulder, seeming grateful for the support—and perhaps a bit too eager to get her hands on her, Larya thought. "Forgive my mate. He has ... dismissive views towards the land-dwellers."

"I understand," Larya said. From the looks Mylio was giving her, his opinion was anything but dismissive—at least, in the sense of disinterest. Cheeks flushing, she quickly went on. "But you need our help, don't you?"

"We do." The mermaid flashed a winsome smile. "My name is Nerka—I know, it sounds foolish. Merfolk like to name their children after fish. I'm just lucky to have avoided Suk-kegh."

Larya giggled, while Snatch just looked mystified. Salmon puns were likely lost on the self-declared nature hater.

"Anyways," Nerka said, "we have a very serious problem. We believe that the ... Slick Trench is inhabited."

"The fuck is a slick trench?" Snatch asked. Larya shared his curiosity, though the name was vaguely familiar.

Nerka bit her lip. "The Slick Trench is...a dead zone. Long ago, when we merfolk declared war upon each other in the names of our goddesses, it's where the Deep Merfolk fled."

Snatch still looked confused, but Larya felt a sudden chill as she remembered. The Deep Merfolk had been merfolk with the lower bodies of deep sea creatures like anglerfish and giant squids. Through the Abyssal Zone's hellish rifts, they had over time evolved demonic characteristics and become strange and reclusive. They had never fought in the merfolks' many wars, and in fact hadn't been heard from for many fey generations.

"The Deep Merfolk are back?" she whispered.

"No," Mylio said from up on the rock. Larya looked up, and he smirked at her, resting his chin upon his palm. "But something else is taking their place. It's not of any sea we know."

Larya squirmed under his relentless gaze. "What's it doing?"

For a moment, silence hung on the beach, interrupted only by the roar-and-hiss of waves rearing up and striking sand.

"Fucking. It is fucking mermaids like little landwhores." Mylio's smile grew as he kept staring at Larya. "One of our number strayed into the Trench a month ago and didn't return. So we sent three more to investigate. Of the three, two were maids. Both went missing, and the one merman was lynched by their families."

"That ..." Larya's eyes watered. She wanted so badly to blink, but Mylio's gaze held her like physical bindings—or perhaps a fishing line, reeling her in... "... that's awful."

"We are not much for trials." He leaned over on the rock so that he was just a foot or so above her. "We sent six more down—all but two maids. One of the mermen saw his mate pulled away, and he went to save her."

Larya tried to look down, now, but he reached down with one hand, roughly cupping her chin and forcing her to continue meeting his gaze. "She was screaming. Moaning. Pleading. '

Please,

' she screamed at him, like a little spreadlegged slut, '

just let me finish

.'"

Larya swallowed as Mylio's fingers traced over her lips. "Her mate fled. The little slut finished. And then she sank into the darkness. Still

begging

for more."

Larya's eyes were half-closed. She felt him planting little kisses on her forehead. "Will

you

beg quite as loudly, I wonder?"

Larya shivered again. She found herself leaning into the merman's touch ...

Nerka was still holding Larya's hand, and she gave it a squeeze. As Larya's mind fell back to reality, the mermaid turned Larya around like a doll to face her. She gave a smile that didn't quite seem motivated by honorable intentions. "Don't listen to him, dearest. He's just bitter that his late mate got a better writhing than what

he

could deliver."

"I have no doubt," Mylio said, tracing his fingers over Larya's neckline. Larya gasped as she felt him tickling the little area of cleavage her cloak exposed. "They grant untold pleasure to the whores they capture." His voice lowered to a whisper in Larya's ear. "It's said that they know the art of sensuality better than any mortal ... or demon ... or fey..."

"Sounds like you should be off fucking one of

those

," Snatch remarked.

Larya heard Mylio give a low hiss of annoyance, and he pulled away from Larya. She suppressed a miniscule whimper of disappointment. "They only go after the females, mortal. Whatever they are, they care not for us males." He glanced at Larya, raising an eyebrow. "We didn't know you had a ...

partner

."

The suggestion in his words unsettled Larya enough to clear her head a little. She took a step away from the rock (though Nerka still held her hand), scowling. "I'm not his partner. I'm his ... something. We work together, is all."

"Hm." Larya simultaneously wished two things: First, she wished she could wipe that smug look off of Mylio's face so hard that he'd never smile again. Second, she really, really wanted to let him fuck her. "Well, I'll keep that ... in mind."

"We don't know that they only target women," Nerka said. "Males

have

gone missing."

Mylio scoffed. "Males who lived near the Slick Trench. Prostitutes, cleaners—barely more than the whores that have been claimed. Like as not they simply fled the area to avoid facing ... 'justice' for the fates of the lost."

"So, what

are

these creatures you want dead?" Snatch snapped.

"We're not sure." Nerka gave Larya's hand another squeeze as she leaned against the druidess to face Snatch. "Some sort of ooze, we think."

Larya was blushing furiously. The mermaid felt really ... nice, there, leaning on her neck. "S-so, what color is it?" she blurted, immediately regretting it.

Stupid question. Stupid, dumb question.

"It doesn't have a color," Nerka said, turning to face Larya. She could clearly tell the effect she was having on Larya. Her mouth was now uncomfortably close to Larya's neck, such that Larya could feel warm breath condensating on her skin whenever the mermaid spoke. "In fact, since no merfolk have been able to touch it and survive, we have no idea if it's even

there

." She frowned. "It may well be some sort of ghost, for all we know."

"Well," Snatch said, "whatever it is, we'll kill it. It's what we do. Now, the fee."

An awkward silence fell upon the four. The merfolk exchanged looks.