Slick, Slippery, Slimed--The Siren's Call
The beaches at night were calm and quiet, only the distant sound of gulls, and the washing of the waves comforted me, as I warmed my hands by the fire I'd made amidst the driftwood, drying my clothes.
I was a pathetic mess of a sailor--my crew dead, our naval vessel dashed among the waves.
The breeze battered on my soaked shoulders, and I shivered. I threw off my white hat, which would've now better suited itself for swabbing down decks. Bitterly, I sought refuge from the elements.
There was a sea-cave in the steep rocky cliff... I could move there, and seek shelter from the tide, and the incessant wind. I picked up some timber, and hauled it off with me. There I could dry in silence, without the threat of freezing to death.
The sound of the waves grew distant, as I brushed aside strings of kelp and seagrasses that had collected around the mouth of the cave. It was some gap, weathered away by the tides long ago, leaving a rocky hole inside the earth. I guarded my step, as the floors were hard and slippery, loose stone and debris that had collected over time.
I heard a sudden rush of wind from outside, warped by the walls of the beach, into an eerie moan. I was suddenly more thankful for my refuge than ever, as I settled down to start a fire.
Drip.
I pulled out my lighter, and then promptly dropped it, as the distinctive sound echoed, and something wet hit my neck and shoulders, and slowly ran down. It felt cool, and I shivered as I whipped my head up.
There, behind me, lying on a shelf, was a sticky clump of something. Picking my one source of light back up, I struck it, and determined the source of my sudden discomfort and stickiness.
It was a patch of... well, eggs, I suppose. Not hard-shelled things like you'd expect a bird to lay--these were jellied, fishy white things, with black centers, like a frog would deposit. They were clustered loosely, and water from above had dripped down, causing them to drift from their clutch.
I ran my hand to the back of my neck in shock, and felt something slithering down between my shoulders. Putting stickiness aside, I pulled off the goopy mess that had adhered to my skin and flung it into the dark--
--and then something bit down. Hard enough to draw blood. I screamed, and rolled in a ball, scrambling, trying to feel for my attacker as my lighter dropped from my hand for a second time, and I reached down, tore off my shirt, and began feeling...
In another second, it had gone, to be replaced with an icy coolness--that began to fill me up, starting from my lower back... Hehe. It felt kind of good, actually. What had I been so worried about? Suddenly, my world felt all---right again. I stood, and shook off the slimy water, and got my bearings.
In fact--I felt incredible now! Something was calling to me, asking me to come deeper inside the cave. How could I resist the curiosity that filled me--how could I describe my rapport, as bare-chested, I drew closer to the song and its singer, to the cries that my ears now heard!
My eyes adjusted to the dark as I trod on through wet pools, my shoes soaked through. This was not--not right. Why was I going further--why did I not dry myself?
I groaned, and grunted, as the cold entered into my head--told me what to do. I tried to resist it, tried not to like what I was hearing--but it changed me. It gave me a way I could hear it again and again, more and more and more...
SHLOPPPPP!!!
The sudden sound broke my trance... horrified, I reached for the offender, that had made the noise... not on my back, no... not in the dark... not the voice... it was...
Trailing my fingers up through my scalp--through my short, damp blonde mop of hair... I felt a fluke. A fin on my head, cold, wet, and froggy-feeling. It was firm, with sharp ridges that bit my hand with their spiny edges--and it was... mine. I shivered, and tried to shake off the nightmare, the hallucinations--this could not be real!
But... but... I played with that fluke. Touched it, felt how I could lower it close to my head, or hold it erect... felt how it ended in a tough spine--felt the cold in me grow, as the tangibility of it cemented my reason in a whole different place. It was in truth, more real than the clothes on my back had been... and I felt an urge as I rubbed it, that I couldn't shake off.
I had to get deeper. I determined to shake of my fear, and find the voice--my solution to this problem. I kicked off my shoes, and trod on barefoot, looking for answers. The cool water... felt... surprisingly good on my sore, sweaty feet.
"I love you... yes I do..." I sung, a familiar tune coming to mind, for some reason, as I plodded on, cool, colder than I should ever have wanted to feel--and yet, eager to have my questions put to rest.
"Lonely nights that come... memories that flow..." I cooed, suddenly realizing that I was serenading the crying singer.
Crrrrrptttt!
Suddenly, I felt an icy chill between my toes, that interrupted my song. Staring down slowly, shocked, I realized--I was becoming something else.
My toes had turned blue and clawed, and had spread wide, sporting thick webs. I tried to be scared--honest--didn't want to be some deviant who enjoyed this transformation--
But her song called, and I forgot why I'd been scared again. I continued to respond in kind, as my body moved of its own accord. I stumbled on like a zombie--clumy, entranced with one goal.
And there she sat, her mermaid's tail stretched long and muscular, tensile, and sporting the broadest, biggest fluke I'd ever seen on a fish--silvery, soft patches of pink and yellow webbing that spanned the gap between strong blue scaly flesh. But she was no fishface--she sported a short muzzle, like a dog's--had pretty black pearls for eyes...
It was clear she'd been a woman, once, just from her figure, her buttocks, her litheness. And it was clear now--that she was the singer, who had succumbed to the song--of cold, and waves, and the eternal dark blue of the Ocean.
I sung on helplessly, feeling my fingers moisten, feeling the sting of claws developing beneath my fingernails, as the pressure grew, ready to crack them open. I felt the panick, the immediacy of the urge to sing to her, to be her mate eternal.
"This old heart of mine, been broke a thousand times..." she whispered...
"Each time you break away, I feel you're gone to stay..." I echoed, feeling a mounting pressure in my rear, an urge to fall on all fours as my spine stretched on without remorse for my pants.
"Maybe it's my mistake, to show this love that I feel inside," she cooed, beckoning me to come closer, as she flagged her tail aside. I plodded through the waters, to her small island, my pace growing faster as I shed my human hands, fell to my webbed forepaws, and ran to her.
"But each day that passes by... you... you've got me never knowin' if I'm comin' or goin!" I cried, shedding tears, feeling the sticky sensation spread to my ears as they turned finnny with a wet pop.
"You kept me waiting." she whispered, ceasing her song.
"I know," I wept, feeling my pants breaking, as the tail formed, as my bones shifted, and my genitals merged with my anus--as I shook off the disguise, let loose the feelings I'd been hiding.
"Stay with me..." she whispered.
I looked at her. Bits of green kelp hanging from her head, mocking hair she might once have had, she was an animal now. If I stayed and sung her song, I would be too--I realized, as the last bits of my humanity began to wash away into the sea of my mind and body's yearnings.
So I chose. I let the webby collar spring out about my neck, hiding my new gills. I climbed aboard her back, and continued to sing, as I shed my own hair, and became doglike in stature.
Together, we layed clutch after clutch--the eggs streaming from her cloaca, and forming sticky clumps against the rock. Devoid of my penis, I trembled, my flukes shaking, and dripped--dripped and spilled all the seed I could down her backside, onto her brood, to let them grow strong and full--and I became a free man--of sorts--let my inhibitions go, and forgot about everything but her song.
Even if she left me a hundred times, a hundred times I'd take her back.
Even if it meant smelling this way, breeding in this pond, in this cave, as a beast--I loved her, and her song. I could not escape it.
The End.