Milan gave a sad sigh, tapping the tuning fork against the side of the boat. He twisted the knobs, adjusting his lute's tune, and idly plucked at a few strings.
"What's the matter?"
The fisherman glanced down at his one companion out in the bay—a red-haired mermaid with a shimmering silver tail. She clung to the side of the boat, as she had been doing for the last hour since she'd arrived. Her name, as she said it, was Pallasii.
"Nothing, I guess," he said softly. "Just... I guess I thought we'd have more of a conversation. Seems I never have much anyone to talk to these days, with all the routes closed down." He knew why the routes had closed down, of course. The Kingdom of the Chosen was expanding, and not many merchants wanted to risk coming this far out anymore. "I haven't been fishing the last couple weeks, what with the boat being damaged. I forgot how lonely it can be."
"You know I'm just here to rest, right?" The mermaid grimaced. "I've been swimming for three days straight to reach your shore. When are you heading back to your boathouse, anyways?"
"Still don't see why you want to go to the docks," Milan said, rolling his eyes. He ruffled his dark, slightly spiky hair and squinted out to the south. Were those clouds on the horizon, or was he just tired and hungry? He'd only caught a few fish today. He didn't want to have to head back early. "Doesn't seem like a mermaid has much to do on land, right?"
The mermaid sounded sour when she replied. "I have people I need to get in
touch
with. They should be nearby. Can we head back to shore already? I'm tired."
"I'm not done fishing," Milan said. He tried not to snap at people, but Pallasii really didn't seem to recognize that he wasn't just out here to waste his time and ferry around tired mermaids..
"Well, there's a storm approaching. Doesn't that spook you at all?"
Milan looked up again. Sure enough, those
were
stormclouds. He nodded glumly and started reeling in his lines.
"Come
on
," Pallasii whined, rapping the side of the boat. "Hurry up!"
"You could help, you know," Milan said. But he was already almost done, and Pallasii seemed skeptical about the prospect, so he finished reeling in the last line himself and pulled up the anchor. He set his lute aside. "That storm sure is moving fast."
Pallasii was biting her lip. He turned from her to look back at the storm.
He heard a splash, and a flop. The boat rocked dramatically. Turning, Milan saw that the herring maid had leaped into the front of the boat.
She lay almost upside-down, scowling up at him, her head touching the wooden canoe base. "Just shut up and row faster! I'm not getting caught in any storms after all I've been through!
Row
, Milan!"
Milan grabbed the oars and started to row, straining against the suddenly rather rowdy waves. "Not sure we'll outpace the storm!" He strained to direct his boat into a current he sometimes followed back home. The current could be problematic—it had a few branching paths that led to trouble areas—but it was a lot faster than just relying on oars. "But I'm sure you'll be fine. Just keep your head down."
The mermaid, her head still pressed against the floorboards, still essentially flopped upside-down in the canoe, glared up at him.
~~~~
"Well, goodie-gumdrops!" Carava perched at the edge of the cliff, gazing out onto the ocean below. Her batlike ears flicked, causing jet-black hair to fly back in the wind. She grinned.
"What is it, lovey-love?" whispered a sly, sibilant voice. Carava turned as her fellow siren descended from the skies and landed beside her. Palcea had brilliant blonde hair, matching her pupilless eyes.
Carava pointed, keeping her voice just loud enough to hear above the wind. "A sweet young thing, Palcea, in
need
of our help."
"Ooh. Shall he evade the storm?"
"Can a sugar glider fly upwards, love?"
They let out hissing laughter, then briefly embraced, running feathered tails over each other's nubile, naked bodies.
"So... shall we play?" Carava whispered in Palcea's ear.
"I must ask my honeycomb Saline, lovey-love." Palcea pulled back, beaming. "But I think she will agree."
"Very good." Carava turned back to the waves, laughing under her breath. "Then let us sing our boy a sweet little love song!"
~~~~
"Oh, no." Milan wiped his brow.
"What?" Pallasii's eyes widened, then narrowed. "What is it?"
"
We're going off course!
" Milan strained at the oars, but it was no use—the current was carrying them northeast, and well off the intended route. "We got in the wrong current! Can you maybe get out and—"
"Uh-uh. I don't push boats around." Pallasii crossed her arms. "Plus, I'm too tired. It'd just drag me with it."
Milan bit his lip. They were heading straight towards the Whistling Cliffs. That place was not where he wanted to be. Up ahead, a massive rocky stack towered over the waves, creating a narrow path between itself and the headland. The current seemed to be bringing them straight towards the cliffs. "This is bad."
"You're telling me." The mermaid glared at the cliffs, rubbing an ear irritably. "You hear that?"
Milan paused a moment in his straining against the oars. He blinked.
Just beneath the roar of the ocean, he barely made out a high-pitched humming.
"W-what is that?" he whispered.
"Trouble. We're in—
whoa
!" The mermaid flopped over again, nearly smacking Milan in the head with her fish tail, as the boat slammed against a sandbar just <,i>barely
low enough for them to make it over. "Shit! Who's steering this thing!"
"I'm trying!" Milan lunged forward, hitting his oar off a rock to keep from striking it with the boat. The oar gave an ominous cracking, but did not snap, and the boat ricocheted away.
They were spiraling straight towards the rocks, but maybe if they could just keep between the cliffs...
"What's that?" he heard Pallasii ask, but he wasn't listening. The fisherman was throwing everything he had into the oars, desperately trying to keep his boat from being dashed against the rocks—some of which cut several murderous feet above the waves, some of which lurked beneath, almost out of sight.
He was drenched in sweat and saltwater. His heart was pounding. The roar of the waves surrounded them, drowned out everything else in his head.
With all his might, Milan leaned forward, braced the oar's haft against his shoulder, and lunged towards one last, jagged stone.
CRACK
.
Milan's shoulder didn't snap like the oar did, but it pretty much felt like it. He let out a loud cry, falling back into the boat.
"
Shit
, what was that? You okay?" Pallasii sounded alarmed, if only in a polite way. "Hey, there's something down there!"
"Are we..." Milan bit his lip, pulling himself back up. "Are we clear?"
She didn't seem to hear him.
He looked around. Sure enough, they were right in the channel between the two cliffs. Seagulls and cliff pigeons filled the air with raucous complaints and demands, but otherwise, things were suddenly quiet.
He could still hear the hum.
"Hey! Milan! There's something down there! There's something—
YEEE!
"
Milan let out a low sigh of relief. They had survived. No collisions. Swallowing, he turned to face Pallasi.
And a woman with blue-green skin, pupilless eyes the color of the sunny sky, long, tangled locks of jet-black hair, and a pair of large, prominent batlike ears smiled back at him.
He recoiled to the other side of his canoe, causing to rock. "
YEE
!"
Where had she come from? What in the...
The woman smiled. Milan stared, dumbfounded. He hadn't even felt her climb in. She was drenched, and he saw she had a pair of batlike wings—something like a cross between a bat and a manta ray, actually—accompanying her arms, rather like a bat or flying squirrel. She was totally naked, and her nipples were a striking violet on large, full breasts.
From just above her ass protruded a long, slightly fluffy tail, with a long set of almost peacock-like feathers at the end of it. That tail twitched playfully as the woman transparently sized Milan up, licking her lips.
Milan swallowed. Her look was very... pozsessive. He wasn't used to having even one naked woman in his boat, let alone two. Pallasii, for her part, was just lying in the back of the canoe, staring up in alarm at the twitching tail as it descended upon her.
"Um... hi." Milan bit his lip. "It's a... pleasure?"
"Milan," Pallasii hissed, "do
not—
"
"Hello!" said the strange woman. Her voice was... Milan couldn't describe it. It made his whole body tingle. It was wispy, silvery, high and singsong. He had never heard such a beautiful, beautiful sound in his life. "It
is
a pleasure."
Her tail descended upon Pallasii, who had, Milan dimly noticed, gone totally limp as the woman had started to speak. The feathers started to trail over the mermaid's exposed breasts. Pallasii's eyes were glassy, her lower lip quivering as a bit of drool slipped out. The feather stroked along her breasts, and she squirmed, but seemed totally unable to speak up to ask this pretty woman to stop.
"Who are you?" Milan asked. "I'm Milan the Fisher." He gave an awkward half-bow, still leaning back in his boat as the woman looked down at him.
"Call me Carava," Carava said. Her voice made Milan's head feel buzzy. Fuzzy. Drippy. He found himself nodding along. She beamed down at him. "It's lovely to meet you, Milan. Would you please be a dear and take off your trousers?"
"Okay." Milan blinked. Something about that request seemed odd when he replayed it in his head, but he couldn't think of a single logical reason to refuse that gorgeous, tingly voice. He reached down and unbuckled his pants, even as his rational mind struggled to explain it. "Um... I hope it's not rude to ask this, but what are you? A fey?"
"Close enough." She giggled. Her laugh made Milan's head swim, bubbly and drifting. He found himself laughing, too, and she smiled down at him with delight. "My, you're a
big
boy, aren't you, sweetie-pie?"
"Um..." He glanced down bashfully, realizing he was now in his underwear—and a bulge was evident. He frowned. What... what was he doing? "Huh."
"But we can't be
sure
," Carava breathed, and he heard Pallasii whimper-giggling slightly as the tail danced over her nude body, "until we make your toy nice and
hard
."
The way she said 'hard' made Milan's mouth water. It was so... so breathy, so sensual, and simultaneously so playful.
His cock was straining in his underwear now, and Carava clapped her hands with delight.
His head was swimming. Her voice echoed in his head, replaying again and again. He rubbed his forehead. "I, um..." Was she doing something to him? Something in her voice? "Please, I don't want to—"
"You don't mind if a pretty girl
plays
with you, do you?" Carava purred, dropping to her knees.
And just like that, her voice soothed his worries like a soft, warm blanket. "No, of course not," he mumbled. "But... but I..."
"You're so
very
attracted to me," she sang, "and you can't wait to show me your yummy dick!"
Oh. Oh, no, he definitely couldn't.
"Yes," he said softly, reaching down and pulling down his underwear. His cock sprang free. He felt so confused. So horny. She was so, so beautiful...
