But I had to have proof. For my own benefit, if no one else’s. I wanted to record what was possibly the most important event of the last few thousand years. I could take a cooler, more methodical approach to documentation later.
I got my camera up and running and started recording, just like I used to when I was keeping my video diary on my dives in the Indian Ocean. My face appeared on the screen. I had bags under my eyes, I hadn’t worn makeup in days, and my hair was wild and tangled. I looked manic.
“You’re never going to believe this,” I said into the camera. “And there’s no way I can explain it, so I’m just going to show you.”
I picked up the laptop and carried it over to Jacques.
“Jacques. Say hello.”
I turned the laptop toward him.
Jacques stared at himself on the screen and drew back with a loud, savage hiss.
I jumped backward, snapping the laptop shut. Jacques was hissing and spitting. Its neck swelled and small spiny fins rose up on its shoulders, like a cat raising its fur. My heart hammered in my chest.
Oh, you idiot! What did you expect him to do, Kate? He’s never seen a video before, least of all a video of himself. He probably thinks I’ve got a second Fish-Man hidden inside the laptop.
Jacques suddenly turned and ran out of the cabin.
“Wait! Jacques!”
I set down the laptop and ran after him. I hadn’t meant to frighten him. What if he never came back? How could I have been so stupid?
By the time I got to the porch, he was already disappearing into the lagoon with a splash.
“Jacques!”
I felt horrible. After all the kindnesses he’d shown me — well, aside from the obvious improprieties — I’d rewarded him with probably the greatest fright of his life.
I ran along the edge of the lagoon, calling his name, but he was gone. I couldn’t go in after him without my diving gear. I couldn’t even follow him on the boat.
I climbed the hill onto the escarpment and walked along the cliff, looking over the edge into the water, but there was no trace of him. I continued to call his name but there was no response. The gray sky didn’t let in much light, and a distant roll of thunder promised yet another storm.
Clinging to the overhanging branches, I picked my way along the rocky ledge. The footing was treacherous, but it wasn’t a far drop to the water. Something flashed in the grass to my right and I realized with some surprise that I was looking at my diving knife. I stooped and picked it up. The point of the blade was coated with a dark gummy substance which might have been congealed blood. I’d given him a good poke, but I didn’t recall seeing any wounds on his body.
I continued on until I reached the other end of the lagoon. There was still no sight of the Fish-Man and I felt a gloomy despondency settle over me. It had never even occurred to me that it might frighten him. Had I just let the most important event of my life slip away in a moment of thoughtless excitement? The wind was beginning to pick up, and the leaves of the trees began to rustle. I could see the wreck of my boat down below. It was almost entirely submerged in the lagoon.
I picked my way down to the beach and sloshed through the shallow water. The goggles were at the bottom of the boat, completely submerged. I fished them out and dumped out the water. They’d have to be cleaned, but there was no obvious sign of damage. I’d have to hook them up to my laptop to see what they contained.
Feeling discouraged, I continued making my way around the outside edge of the lagoon, hoping that Jacques had perhaps taken a spot on the beach facing the ocean. The tide was low, and there was a muddy sandbar separating the lagoon from the Gulf of Mexico. The beach running alongside the coastal side of the lagoon was devoid of people or Fish-Men. A pair of gulls were fighting over the carcass of a fish that had been washed ashore.
I shouted Jacques’s name again but there was no response. The waves were getting choppy and the wind was getting more blustery, blowing salty mist into my face. I wiped away the moisture running down my cheeks and carried on.
Soon I was back at the cabin. There was still no sign of the Fish-Man, but at least I’d retrieved my goggles and found my knife. It hadn’t been a complete loss.
I went back inside and smelled smoke.
The fish!
Shit shit shit shit shit!
I rushed into the kitchen and tore open the oven door. A cloud of smoke billowed out. I waved my hand in front of my face, coughing, and remembered that I’d never replaced the batteries in my smoke detectors.
I grabbed my oven mitts and pulled out the tray. The fish was thoroughly burnt.
Dammit!
I sighed and left the fish on top of the stove. I put on the kettle to make myself tea and opened the window to air out the kitchen. Then I sat down on the couch, opened up the laptop, and reviewed what I’d recorded.
“You’re never going to believe this,” said my recorded image, talking to myself. “And there’s no way I can explain it, so I’m just going to show you.”
The camera veered wildly around the room and then settled.
“Jacques. Say hello.”
The camera turned.
Even knowing what to expect, I felt a chill run down my spine. It wasn’t just the look of horror on Jacques’s face that upset me, it was how truly, monstrously terrifying he was. The gleaming fangs, the long tongue vibrating as he hissed, the huge dark eyes, the spiky fins. It was like watching a medieval gargoyle suddenly spring to life.
The recording abruptly cut out. That’s when I’d closed the laptop.
I sighed and dug out the adapter cable for the goggles. I popped out the little plastic door protecting the port and hooked them up to my laptop.
I skipped through the video until I got to the very end where the alligator had attacked me in the underwater cave. Watching the massive reptile’s savage attack, it suddenly occurred to me just how close I’d come to dying.
I felt a cold shiver rush through me as I watched the chaotic flight through the lagoon, watched as I fed the alligator my air tank, and watched the boat come into view. Then came the horrifying moment when the alligator tried to launch itself onto the boat and then slipped back into the water. I watched as I fed it the backpack containing my phone, my desperate kick, and then the crazy panning of the camera as I fell backward. The camera suddenly went still aside from the natural rocking of the boat. Out of the edge I could see the alligator’s snout approaching, jaws wide, teeth lunging for the kill — and then a pair of webbed hands appeared, tying the rope that had been used to tie the boat to the dock around the alligator’s jaws and pulling them shut with a snap. I watched in horrified amazement as the Fish-Man cinched the rope tight, and then quickly jerked back, biceps bulging, snapping the alligator’s neck. The reptile squirmed and then grew still. The Fish-Man discarded the carcass in the lagoon with a splash, and then suddenly bent down. His face stared at my unconscious form, larger than life, peering with first one eye then the other. His long tongue slipped out, presumably touching my face, and then it retracted and the creature stood up. A second later, he dove from the boat and there was a great splash of water.
Even though I already knew what had happened — the only thing that could have happened — seeing it for myself brought a tear to my eye. Whatever interest Jacques had in me, it wasn’t malevolent. He had saved me twice now. It was true that his intentions weren’t entirely selfless — he obviously wanted something from me — but I knew in my bones that he didn’t want to hurt me.
For whatever reason, Jacques had chosen me to be the mother of his child.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was sitting on the porch with a cooler, watching the lagoon for any sign of Jacques’s return, but by one in the morning, there was still no sign of him.
The waters were dark, more heard than seen. The wind had continued to rise, and fat drops of rain had periodically fallen and then been swept away. Occasionally, a rumble of thunder would threaten, but the storm itself
seemed hesitant to come in from the ocean, perhaps afraid of its own reflection. A bolt of lightning illuminated a distant cloud and then flickered out. I was too tired to keep my eyes open any longer.
I got up and reluctantly went inside. I considered locking the door, but if Jacques should return, I didn’t want him breaking down my brand new door. Which reminded me, I’d have to get Chet to replace the window in my bedroom at some point. I deposited my empty bottle in the kitchen and went to my room. I was too tired to even read, so I got undressed and climbed into bed.
Darkness enveloped me almost immediately and I found myself being greeted by the cheers and cries of the islanders. I was enthroned again, in my elaborate headdress of flowers, a child sitting in my lap. The child was older now, a toddler, and clung to my breast, its gills fluttering softly. I held it tight, speaking softly and rocking it on my knee, stroking its scaly skin.
The creaking of floorboards woke me.
I lifted my head from the pillow, less frightened than I should have been. A flash of lightning dispelled a fragment of the gloom and I saw a tall, dark figure standing in the doorway, large eyes wetly gleaming.
“Jacques?”
It was dark again. So dark I could no longer see him. But I could feel his presence in the room, smell his distinctive odor of wet grass. The floor creaked. I heard a soft trilling sound and the faint whip of his tongue as he tasted the air.
For a full minute nothing happened, then I felt the bed sheet being pulled away from me.
I froze, my heart racing, my skin covered in goosebumps. I knew what was about to happen. But this time, I felt no fear, only a keen sense of anticipation. I could feel myself growing wet.
Cool, scaly hands grabbed my thighs, squeezing them firmly, and then gently spread my legs. The mattress sank and the bed frame creaked in protest as the Fish-Man added his weight to mine. He had to weigh several hundred pounds at least.
My eyes had now adjusted somewhat to the gloom. I could see a vague outline of his shoulders and back as he hunched between my spread legs. Something wet and flexible flickered over my clit. I shivered and let out a little moan of pleasure.
Jacques’s tongue returned, tracing slippery strokes over my sex, wriggling like a snake. He caressed between each of my folds, sliding his tongue over my pearl, massaging it tenderly. He proceeded languidly, methodically, savoring my flesh as he tasted each part of me. I began to tremble and little gasps escaped through my lips. Henry had never been this good at oral. I hadn’t even known cunnilingus could feel this good.
Jacques’s slick caresses inspired the strangest fantasies in the darkness. I found my mind wandering, returning to the island and to my previous dream. Only this time, instead of an endless series of human admirers orally gratifying me, it was an endless series of Fish-Men, each eager to win my praise. I looked around at their long, thick cocks, raised in salute, pleased with their display.
I came hard, bursting out with a loud groan. Waves of ecstasy tore through me. Thunder crashed and another flash of lightning illuminated the room. I saw my pale hand outlined against Jacques’s head as I held his face down between my thighs. I shuddered, digging the fingers of my free hand in the sheets, writhing in exquisite contractions. Pleasure swept through me like a fever, making everything soft and joyful and welcoming. Finally, however, the sweet pulsations subsided and my body relaxed.
Jacques shifted. I moved my hand and he raised his head, licking his lips. I felt his hands on my thighs again, adjusting my position. I bit my lip, overwhelmed with excitement. He was going to do it again — put his fabulous cock inside of me. My pussy ached with anticipation. He shuffled forward and the slick, rigid crown pressed into me, slipping between my well-lubricated folds. His shaft stretched me wide. I moaned with joy and pleasure, feeling his girth. He pushed himself all the way in, until I could feel the tip of his cock prodding against my cervix; he was a hard, throbbing presence inside my belly, a welcome guest. He braced his hands against the mattress, holding himself above me at arm’s length, and began to thrust, fucking me with the uninhibited enthusiasm of an animal rutting.
I groaned, surrendering myself to his passion. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I ran my hands over his sides and back, feeling all of the smooth little scales and the powerful, rippling muscles underneath. He felt tremendously, monstrously strong, as solid and heavy as a rhinoceros.
Jacques’s cock was so perfect a tool it was impossible to fight my own excitement. It began to vibrate rapidly and my second orgasm overwhelmed me. I let out a loud cry, clenching exquisitely around his thick shaft, my cunt as tight as a vise. Rhythmic pulsations of pleasure swept through me.
Jacques waited for my storm to pass and then patiently resumed. I could feel his own arousal mounting with every stroke, could feel how much harder his cock had become, how intensely it had begun to throb, flutter, and vibrate.
“Yes,” I murmured. “Oh yes, Jacques. Do it. Cum inside of me. Please, cum inside of me.”
Jacques made a loud, erratic croaking sound and his whole body began jerking. His muscles were as taut as steel cables. The base of his cock inflated and deflated rapidly, pressing hard and rhythmically against my G-spot as the length of his shaft began to strain and pulsate. I came immediately, and continued to cum, having one orgasm after another as he pumped his thick, cool semen deep into my womb. I could feel the strength of each burst, feel the growing pressure of his load as he filled every every nook and cranny with his vigorous sperm. Finally the inundation subsided. We remained locked in a blissful, shuddering embrace, and for the next five or ten minutes, the pleasure he gave me was so intense it was almost painful. The way his swollen cock throbbed against my G-spot worked on me like a drug, drowning my brain in endorphins. Finally, at last, the swelling subsided and he slowly pulled out.
Jacques rolled over onto the bed beside me, a soft, satisfied trilling emerging from his throat. I rolled over, resting my arm across his chest, and threw one leg over his thigh and was soon fast asleep.
It was the happiest moment of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“This is a shower,” I said, pushing the curtain aside with a rattle. “You’ll like it.”
Jacques examined the tub, tiles, and fixtures with curiosity. It was morning and bright sunlight was filtering in through the frosted glass window. I’d slept like a baby.
“When I turn the tap, water comes out,” I said, taking it slow.
I reached down and turned on the cold water. The pipes groaned and water began flowing into the tub. Jacques hunched down, passing his hand back and forth under the tap to catch the water. He leaned lower and began to lap it up with his tongue like a dog.
“It’s not for drinking,” I said, laughing. “It’s for washing.”
I had no idea if he even understood the concept of personal grooming, though his scales seemed impeccably neat and shiny.
I gently nudged him aside and bent down and turned the tap for the hot water. I felt his broad palm plant itself on my bare buttock and give it a squeeze. I tried to ignore it, but couldn’t suppress the thrill it gave me.
“See, the water is warmer now,” I said, holding my hand under the water and smiling.
Jacques was no longer paying any attention to the water. I pulled his hand away from my ass and straightened up.
“When I pull this, the water comes out from up here,” I said, pointing first to the diverter on the spout and then to the shower head.
I leaned forward and pulled up the diverter and the water began to spray out from the head.
This minor miracle managed to recapture his attention. Jacques stuck his head under the spray and began drinking the water.
I sighed and shook my head.
I climbed into the tub and pulled on his arm, encouraging him to follow. He stepped inside and I pulled the curtain closed after him. He was so big he took up almost the whole tub. My pink toes looked tiny beside his broad, webbed feet. I took him by the elbows and spun u
s around in a circle so that he wasn’t blocking all of the water and then soaked my head, wiping back my hair.
“This is how humans stay clean,” I said, reaching for the shampoo.
Jacques watched me lather up my hair and rinse it, work in the conditioner, and rub soap all over my body. I would have to save shaving my legs for another day. When I finally felt clean again, I looked at Jacques with a mischievous smile. I didn’t want to douse him with soap, because I had no idea how his skin would react to it, but I found it hard to resist touching him.
Tentatively, and very slowly, I placed my hand on his chest, feeling the smooth little scales against my palm. Jacques accepted this gracefully, observing me carefully as I proceeded to run my hands over his pectorals, ribs, and abdomen. I knew the strength and power of the muscles hiding under the scales, could feel their solidity and firmness, and it had a decidedly pleasing effect on me. Proceeding cautiously, I let my hand slide lower and lower down his stomach. There was no navel, but the bones and musculature of the pelvis were remarkably similar to a man’s. My hand continued to travel down until I was touching the soft sheath that contained his reproductive organ.
I tightened my grip, feeling the member slowly thicken and harden. I pulled back the sheath, exposing his pink rod. The shaft had a waxy gleam, like hard soap. It was almost perfectly smooth and so bright it was almost luminous. His balls appeared to be small and tightly encased in the sheath, little more than lumps under the skin. The sight of his engorging member, and knowing what it could do to my body, made me immediately wet. The Fish-Man’s cock continued to stiffen in my hand as I stroked it, until it was as hard as a steel pipe. It had grown remarkably slick as well — like wet soap, actually. It must have been naturally lubricated by some kind of oil emerging through the pores.
Tamed by the Creature from the Lagoon Page 15
