Siren Song, Part 1 — Home By The Sea
by
Paul Gerard
(a pen name)
Four parts, an epilogue and a bonus story. At least that's the plan. No promises, though.
Also, it's a slow start. No need to go looking for the mermaid in this part yet.
~
A word of warning, before you even start reading: A lot of what happens in this story focuses on the rather weird fetish of Breast Expansion (BE) -- from A to D, and occasionally up to and ultimately beyond the size depicted in Woody Allen's "Giant Breast" skit in "Everything you always wanted to know about sex" (the 1972 movie). If you thought that was hilarious, or unsettlingly arousing, you're more than welcome to continue reading. Of course this tale has action, tension and fighting (in short, "conventional" storytelling), too.
However, if you are put off by the sheer offbeat weird impossible flight of fancy that is BE, you probably shouldn't bother with this tale.
Thank you.
~
First Draft started 2008-06-17, this one 2012-05-04
Spellchecked: by computer.
Proof-reading: A very heartfelt
thank you
to Merkava IV and CoffeePilot for their time and patience.
~
Altaerna — A world, where the laws of reality may become mere guidelines at any given time, where magic and machinery are intertwined, where all those things creeping in the shadows of fantasy may step forward onto the mind's stage.
This story unfolds in medieval times, around the 12th Century. 1185, if you're one for nitpicking.
~
Part 1: Home by the Sea
Obscure inspirational music reference:
"A siren from the deep / came to me / sang my name / my longing ..." --
Nightwish,
Ghost Love Score
~
Chapter 1: On The Beach
~
The sand was warm under her naked feet and the high cliffs shielded the beach from the constant wind. Sunlight sparkled on the gently rolling ripples. Seagulls screeching in the distance and the lulling noise of the waves were the only sounds.
Barbara pulled the scarf from her head and ran her fingers through her long blond hair. A few strands danced over her eyes as she stared out at the endless sea. The mooring of her groom's fishing boat was empty. Later this afternoon, onshore winds would carry Dave's cockleshell boat back to his lovely, love-hungry bride. Their secret marriage was almost a year old now, yet routine hadn't settled in.
Couldn't
settle in, but Barbara didn't want to think about that just now.
She slipped her dress' straps off her shoulders and let her arms hang down. Bereft of support and with nothing on her lithe body protruding far enough for the coarse linen to get caught on, it tickled down her skin and crumpled around her feet. Barbara stepped out of the small circle of bleached cloth and towards the gray boulders that littered the bright sand at the water's edge.
The clear water was not warm by any stretch, but still warmer than she had expected it to be. She waded in until it just barely licked against her crotch's blond curls. The light, repeating touch sent shivers up her spine. Barbara cupped her nervous sex in her palm and kneaded her slim labia to quell her growing arousal. Lowering herself into the blue, she began swimming with long strokes, and the whirling currents forming between her legs soothed the sensuous tickling as the cool water sucked the heat from her hungry flesh.
Several dozen yards out the waters were too deep to stand, and the ocean floor turned from bright sand into darker cobbles, overgrown with seaweed. The temperature dropped further. Barb didn't care much. "Fishblood" wasn't the nicest of nicknames, but the young woman had to admit it wasn't all that undeserved. Her habit of going for a half-hour swim in mid-January
was
unusual, even for a lass from a long line of weather-hardened fishermen and pearl diving women. Now, in late May, she felt like she could keep on swimming forever.
~
Something rough yet slimy touched her leg. Barbara jerked away and pulled up her thighs. Salty cold hit her face and blinded her for a moment. Coughing and sputtering, she turned on the spot and caught sight of a dark shadow moving under her.
The water stung in her eyes as she submerged her face and forced her eyelids open. In her blurred vision, she saw a pulsating, sparkling bundle struggling beneath her legs, rolling back and forth over the ocean floor with the waves' currents. She took a deep breath and dove the couple of feet. Her fingers touched a delicate mesh of strands. Barbara grabbed it and pulled it after her towards the beach.
~
It was a tangled net, filled with the biggest, most impressive catch of fish Barbara had ever seen. Now that it no longer floated in the water, Barbara's strength wasn't enough to lift it. Trapped by the tightly woven fibers, the fish inside were but a gasping, writhing mass of scales sparkling in silver and gold. She dragged it back into the water and tied the unexpected gift to one of the poles of the small pier before she laid herself down to dry on the warm, bleached wood.
Dave's going to be so proud,
she grinned.
Besides, that's a net much better than his patched old one with the holes and the rotted threads. But where did it come from?
Barbara propped herself up on her elbows. Her eyes searched the horizon. No sail, no ship, just that distant line separating water from sky. She rolled over from her back to her belly, let her hand hang down to the licking waves and traced the intricate weaving of the thin but strong fibers. Seeing them finished, the knots made perfect sense, but neither she nor any of the weavers from the small town nearby would've put them where they were.
Must've come loose from some passing ship. That's no workmanship from around our coast,
Barbara mused.
Ah, finders keepers, losers weepers.
~
The boat rocked as David turned about and cast his net out to where he
knew
the school of fish to be. He could see them sparkling just under the surface, and his aim was impeccable. And yet, like the ten times he had tried before, the net he drew back in was empty. He cursed. This was going to be another one of
those
days.
The splash and wooden thud behind him made him spin around. Trying to escape back into the water, a plump fish the size of his arm slapped about on the planks.
"Oh no you won't," snarled Dave and dumped the whole net on his accidental catch. "If only so I don't come home empty-handed!"
~
Barbara caught the rope that David threw at her and tied it down to their small dock. Her husband's face told her all she needed to know.
"Another bad day?" she asked anyway.
He nodded.
"Well,
almost
," Dave added with a smile and pulled up his net with his catch. "We might not have something to sell today, but at least we'll have something to eat."
"Oh, you'll be surprised," laughed Barbara and led him down to the waterline. "Care to lend me a hand? I've found something to make you happy."
"
Bar
bara," he intoned with mock seriousness and took in the sight of her slender body. "Shameless girl, you can't do that, not out in the open in the middle of a sunny day!"
"
What?
Oh you big klutz, it's not all about your marvelous manhood! I'll get to that
later
," she smirked back. "I've done a bit of fishing by myself without even trying, and I got
very
lucky."
~
"Oh yes, you're my good-luck charm," he groaned through gritted teeth as he struggled to get the bundle of net and fish out of the water. "Let's sort them apart and put them into the baskets until the trader comes by."
Barbara waded out into the surf, grabbed the ropes of the line of willow baskets floating just beneath the surface and pulled them in.
"Haven't seen this kind around here before," Dave mused. "They're a lively bunch."
He bowed down and grabbed a gold-scaled, foot-long fish with both hands. Moments later, he spat and snorted and wiped saltwater from his face. "Lively all right. You're first in line for dinner now!"
"That's why I didn't put my clothes back on," laughed Barbara, her skin dripping and droplets running down her lithe, toned figure as the frenzied mass of fins sprayed water all around.
"Oh, really? It wasn't to cheer up your husband?" he snickered back as she circled him to pick up the next box. Dave jerked as Barbara's hand sneaked up from behind, ran up the inside of his left leg and took a determined, cupped hold of his privates.
"You really need any more cheering up?" she breathed, leaning her willowy shape on him.
"I can always do with some more cheering up, love," he whispered back. "And soaked all the way through like I am now, I'll need to get naked and lay out all my clothes to dry."
"How ... convenient," Barbara rasped back.
She let go and straightened. "Let's get the catch sorted first. Don't want your dangle to get chewed on by anyone but me, and those fishes, they've got sharp teeth," laughed the young woman. "Well, might not be such a bad idea to have your enormous rod pruned a bit, given that it's almost our anniversary yet we haven't managed to put it all the way into me, eh?"
"Ouch! You've got a nasty mind, wife!" grimaced Dave.
"Just can't bear the waiting," she laughed with just a hint of unease.
~
"There, that's the last one," whispered Barbara. Her slender fingers spread Dave's shirt and pulled it off his shoulders. "And now —"
"— The womb?" he inquired, closing his strong arms around her. His hands wandered down her back and traced the depressions at the root of her spine.
"I could ride you right here and now," she offered before she closed his mouth with her lips again. Her next sound was a moan through her nose as his fingers grabbed her firm buttocks and lifted her higher. Trapped between their bodies, Dave's warm, swelling rod pushed against her curls-covered mons veneris. She secured herself on his hips, drawing up her thighs and clamping him in their vise. "Heavens, I'm all wet inside and out. Today's the day! I can feel it, today I'll take you to the hilt!"
Dave carried her over to the cliff's face. Over the course of the centuries the winter's high tides had washed out a chain of caves, some huge as houses, some just a few hand's widths high. The ceiling of the one they called "the womb" reached to Barbara's hip, went into the rock a dozen feet deep and spread just wide enough for a couple to lay side by side.
Barbara clung to her husband's chest and hips as he went down on hands and knees and crawled into the darkness of their love nest. Dave lowered his muscular weight on her, and Barbara squealed with delight as she became embossed into the ground and the clean, cool, soft sand shaped itself around her back and buttocks, holding her in place.
"Slowly, dear," she moaned as he inched down and his twitching rod slid over her lower belly. The engorged head wandered over her bud. She slanted her hips forward. The warm peach-sized cone lodged itself between her slim outer lips.
"Still too tight," Barbara wailed as his first thrust ran painfully against her narrow gap. "Oh Dave, I —
nnngh!
— I'm just too tight! But I don't want to wait any more!" She grabbed his fat manhood with both hands and pushed. Groaning and spreading her legs wide, Barbara worked the stiff pole over her pink gap. It squeezed into her, opening her further. She gained half an inch, then another, but the delight turned into stinging pain before she even managed to cram the glans into her, and she let go, tears of anger welling in her eyes.
Dave rolled his weight off her slender frame. She turned her back on him and slammed her fist into the sand.
"Not again," she growled through gritted teeth. "Why am I so tiny down there? I'm useless as your wife, Dave! I'm just a disfigured freak!And here I've got the most glorious man in all the shire, but I can't — I'm —
mmh!
—
ahh!
"
His right hand ran from her hips up to her chest. Dave gently pulled her close, spooning her. His left hand traced her buttocks, found their crack and slipped between her legs. Well-lubed skin parted around his middle finger. He dipped his fingertip into the tight, wrinkled entrance and marched on.
"Not in the mood, Dave," snarled the disappointed young woman.
He leaned over and kissed her shoulder while his fingers twisted her hard nipples ever so gently.
"Just let me soothe your poor little castle gate," he whispered. "It's been so brave and defiant again, it deserves some reward."
"
Sheesh!
I wish it would just give in." Barbara's fingers drummed impatiently on the sand. "This itching, it's so deep inside, I just can't scratch it. Week after week after week! Maybe I really should have a chat with old Miss Mawson, the midwive's got to have the knowings about how women are supposed to be opened."
Dave's moistened finger slid over her pee hole and circled the swollen clit. Barbara gasped for air. That cheeky finger, it went round and round, it didn't let up.
"Dave, stop it!"
"It doesn't hurt, does it?"