by Kiki Howell
Saira turned, after a brief sigh, to follow the sailing vessel and the young birthday prince, out into open water.
The night sky darkened and thunder rolled in the distance. Saira wondered why the prince would have the ship moved into open, unfriendly waters when clearly a storm was looming. She felt this a grave error in judgement that would put them all at risk. If she was right, it would prove to be a very long night, indeed, for all aboard. When the young prince came out on deck, what seemed like a thousand rockets exploded up and into the air. The sky lit up as though it was by daylight and the little princess, frightened, dove below the surface to safety.
Moments later, the young mermaid was forced by her own inquisitiveness to return. As she stretched her neck in curiosity when she neared the surface again, Saira raised her head to break through the waves. She saw thousands of multi-colored stars falling from the sky amid cheers and joyful music. However beautiful the explosions, they couldn’t match the face of the prince and when he looked her way she smiled at him irresistibly and rejoiced when he smiled in return.
His eyes, so blue they appeared white in the reflection of the falling jewel-like stars, touched her heart. Her seduction, through the excitement of the festivities, began in earnest as she fell willingly under his spell. He was long, much longer than she. He wore a bloussoned white shirt with billowing sleeves, opened to the near waist that was tucked neatly into a knotted waistband, a sash made of red satin or silk. She thought, more likely silk as he was adorned with jewels of shimmering colors mounted in heavy gold ropes around his neck and bands around his fingers. He raised a hand to his neck as he watched her. She couldn’t resist the glistening skin of his chest, which was smooth and appeared almost as polished as sea glass. His flesh was drawn so tight over his rippled muscles she thought she could see the beat of his heart beneath, or was it the rise of his chest as he took breath? She was mesmerized by the sheer being of him.
It didn’t matter to her, whatever it was, it was she that caused his excitement, clearly. And he hers, most assuredly. Beneath his strong hairless torso were long land legs she had once thought useless to humans. After all, they could not carry one through the waters with the accuracy and speed as her tailfin. What possible good would they be then? But, it was not their use about which she thought now. It was the line and the shape of them, one just as the other that she examined.
Under the tight leggings he wore, his body drew wide and solid at the top at his waist, narrowed to a bending place at the middle and widened slightly only to narrow again to the flat part upon which he stood. The shape was rippled but in a long single elegant stroke from waist to floor. Her racing heart almost stopped completely as her eyes settled on the union where his legs joined and his right hand rested. He watched her as he rolled his fingers and rubbed the bulge there. The corners of his mouth turned up when he dropped his head and looked out at her under his brow, mysteriously...seductively. He was rubbing and pulling and smiling all the while as her own interest caused her mouth to suddenly water. She choked back her excitement, but hardly for long.
She swallowed with nervous deliberation, but she knew not why. She could not stop watching him. She paid no attention to the rest of his garments, nor the turn of his boots, for those held no interest to her. It was that bulge which he clearly enjoyed rubbing that so totally absorbed her.
He was dashing and beautiful. When he smiled at Saira for the first time, through the windowpane of the sea vessel, she was captivated, perhaps even hypnotized by the rhythm of the rolling waves and the seduction of his gaze, a gaze she could not break until her very life was threatened by the pounding seas. She was enthralled, locked in a hypnotic embrace of will and desire.
The prince, he must be of royal title as he had his own ship and his dress, his adornment, his demeanor, all suggested his blue blood, walked closer to the window and dropped his hand, from both his throat and from his bulge. He shoved the window curtains back with a fevered purpose. Saira was startled, but could not break with his look. His hands moved to the growing bulge and he slowly opened the button at the waistband and then one by slowly one, until gradually he released all the others. Saira barely saw what lay beneath. It was not unlike the description that her sister Paerla shared with her, only up close, to her, it resembled a thick and lively sea serpent with but one eye to see the way in the dark depths that appealed so.
Ha, she laughed in her nervous stomach, by virtue of Paerla’s story, the shaft has an independent will and a way to find the pleasures that it seeks, dark depths or light!
She was momentarily distracted by the crash of a wave against the bobbing vessel as it splashed in her face. In the brief interim, the prince swung a barrel chair from the desk to the threshold of the window and he sat at precisely the moment she turned to look again. He stroked the serpent with both hands and it sprung to vitality and life, immediately searching her out, it seemed to Saira.
And as she rode the thunderous rising waves her heart raced and met the metronome of the pounding surf. Before long, Saira could not distinguish one from the other
The young mermaid princess struggled to maintain her visual tether with the handsome man. He glowed in the flickering candlelight, giving him an almost heavenly aura which added to his allure—he was magical, he must be! He was a sorcerer! No one other than a man of spells, a magus, could control the very atmosphere around him. His face was welcoming and inviting, eyes of blue and hair of black. But Saira’s attention was keenly focused on that which the prince held in his hands.
Before her very eyes, it grew, both in length and girth, as the man rubbed, palmed and worked the tightening flesh back and forth. He continued to stare at Saira and the smile faded from his face as he did so. He stared intensely at the young mermaid as her hand went to her throat. She should look away, but she couldn’t. Such a display seemed too intimate to witness and at such a time! But the man continued in his deft display and pursuit of pleasure.
Back and forth, with varying speeds, some fast and whip-like, only to stop nearly completely to a smooth, slow stroke. As he whipped himself into a fury, the blouson shirt he wore slipped open further and his chest, unmarred by any proof of manhood, was glistening with a fine mist of sweat, which only caught the flickering light more, enhancing his beauty further. His nipples, like her own, were rich with color and tight with heat and desire.
Her hand dropped involuntarily from her throat to her breast and she cupped the full, firm roundness in her palm and absentmindedly tweaked her own nipple between her thumb and first finger. She rolled it, tugged upon it and twisted until it almost hurt to do so further. The pleasure was almost painful and she nearly closed her eyes as she fell into her own passions. The prince seemed to respond to her fondling of her own flesh, the tug, pull and twisting of her nipple, and he began to pound at his shaft with even more fervor. Within moments, his head fell back and his serpent spit a thick white cream from the tip in three or four sharp bursts. His fingers were fisted at the base of his shaft and the throbbing jiggle produced but a few more insistent drops. It was an exhilarating sight to behold.
He stayed like that for a few moments more, then raised his head slowly, smiling at her. For a moment, she felt embarrassed to have observed him at his most private, but then...the display was one he clearly wanted her to see. Perhaps he wanted more from her than to be just a bystander. But what? And how?
She smiled back at him.
Then, abruptly, her lock on his countenance was broken just as quickly as it had begun, interrupted by the highs and very lows of the of the rapidly increasing swells. When Saira was able, at long last, to see back into the cabin again, he was gone.
Her heart sank!
Oh, but her heart ached to see him again. She had fallen under his spell, been swept away by their shared passion and now longed to see him again, talk to him, touch his face, bury her face in the soft hollow at his neck. She wanted to touch his shaft for herself, feel it grow, throb and pulse with heat
. She could almost smell his closeness and the thought of him near made her shiver and tingle all over. Her nipples rose, darkened and hardened, as they stretched into the moonlight at the sheer thought of his nearness. It was a sensation that was new and unsettling to her, but she wanted, eagerly, to feel much more of the same.
Would he touch her there, as her hungry nipples stretched into his palm? She touched them herself, rubbed the bare petal-soft flesh as she rolled the bead of hard nipple between her fingers. Oh, that was so exhilarating. Her pulse rushed and her heart skipped as it raced to ignite the heat of her longing throughout her body.
Was this the love, about which her sisters spoke and whispered when the throng of Palace Guards were near? Saira had never paid much attention to their snickering whispers and muffled giggles but if this was the feeling it stirred, then she surely would pay rapt attention when she got back to the palace. Hopefully, she would be armed with whispered stories of her own to share with her older more experienced sisters. She had so much to tell them already, so much to ask them about now, how could there possibly be more to come!
The rolling thunder and swelling waves moved in closer to the anchored vessel. Saira kept a keen eye on the developing condition of the sky and seas. But...
Later that evening when ship went dark and quiet, the sea turned pitch-black and started to roll faster, harder, higher with silent insistence. This was great fun for the little princess as she rode the waves with searching eyes once more into the cabin windows. She found her prince, again, and to her delight, he saw her as well. Locking eyes, she bobbed with the tossing waves and reached out to him as he leaned out and extended his hand. She ignored the darkening sky until the crack in the sky of lightning drew her attention. The young man withdrew his hand and pulled himself back inside as he gathered himself to go out of the cabin, she presumed, to his men on deck. The winds rose and the sails unfurled, bellowed from the night fury. She heard commands and screams as the ship rolled and ropes unfurled to do their work. Alarmed, the young princess grew scared for all aboard the ship as she stayed alert to avoid being hurt herself.
The men raced around the deck in measured sequence. Some went to the fore, others to the aft and several shimmied up the masts to unfurl the sail to take the ship further out to sea. A group of men ran to the anchor and began to hoist the chain slowly, drawing the anchor up and out of the angry sea. There was so much activity, Saira couldn’t keep up with the whereabouts of the prince until she heard his commands from the deck.
His voice was rich and commanding, with a deep resonance. As he spoke, he pointed at each man to whom he gave an order. His commands were loud and forceful and each sailor responded accordingly. Their actions were swift and effective. All the while they ran above deck, the sea fought to sweep them into her arms.
The sea was viciously dark against the waves as they uncurled in a white so brilliant and speckled with iridescence, they resembled the most valuable of pearls rolling and tumbling into the black, yawning abyss below. The white rolling waves crashed down upon the swells of the ocean with a loud and resounding smash, then danced quickly across one to another until the wave expired, only to be followed by another and another, then another. It seemed, as she rode the waves cautiously, that they were building in strength, that the sound of them crashing onto the swells was getting louder, building to a fevered pitch bringing with it a foreboding of disaster. Her fear for their safety was mounting, and uppermost in her pounding chest was her search, rising with panic, for the young elegant man. At once, a ferocious wave curled over the ship, sending men into the sea and causing Saira to lose sight of her prince from the command deck above.
The violent seas were perilous even for the princess herself, so as she looked for him quickly, but deliberately, she was careful of waves tossing debris, trunks, ropes, planks, harpoons and other tools, and bodies in tumbling masses to her front, sides and behind. When the center mast broke, the manic wind brought it down on the middle deck splitting the ship nearly in two, pitching everything into the cavernous darkness of the ocean.
Frantically, the little princess searched the shifting wreckage for her prince. She knew not his name so could not call out to him, not that he would have heard her over the resounding force of the brutal seas. She felt something, or someone, hit against her tailfin and when she spun to check, it was the disappearing outstretched hand of a sailor. She could not save him, the dark grasp of the sea pulled him away from her so quickly. When she finally spied the prince, his eyes were closed. His arms and legs dangled from his limp and tossing body, now weakened by his fight for survival. He appeared lifeless and that sent Saira into a heightened fear as his body could not bear his weightless life and he drifted slowly to the waiting onyx depths below.
She thought briefly and happily, for a moment, that her future was ensured now and they could live together forever in the watery palace below as she swam swiftly to his side. In her dreamy pursuit to join the prince, she suddenly remembered the many stories of Grand-Mamére: humans could not survive below the water. The prince would die if she brought him to the palace or may even be dead before she got there. Without a thought for her own safety, she swam with her greatest speed to the drowning prince and breathed the air from her lungs into his with a kiss. It took her longer than she anticipated to reach him. He was sinking so fast, and she almost misjudged the distance. There was so much debris floating upwards and sinking downwards, some just rolling and tossing though the current, impeding her progress to get to him, let alone get him to the surface and life-giving air.
The debris, shifting current and rolling waves made it hard for her to keep him safe while she was taking him back to the surface. She navigated with all her might using one strong arm to hold him against her body and the other to keep the debris away from them both. When they finally bobbed to break the surface, there was little left of the ship that was not floating all around them. She could see no other survivors and her little heart broke for all the men who would never return to their families and loves. She cried but held her charge even tighter to her breast.
The ship had moved some distance from the shore so was in open water when the storm hit, leaving them to run afoul of the certain safety of the harbor. It was quite a swim, and she was tired too, but she could let nothing happen to her fair prince. She gathered the last vestiges of her strength and then held his head until she could bring them both to safety amid the wreckage. It was a long and arduous swim and the prince was still unconscious. His dead weight was both a blessing and a curse against the elements. As they neared the shore, the waves crashed with vicious velocity against the crags and reefs to the beach making her approach with him in her arms more difficult. But, what choice had she?
Finally, after timing the swells and waves, she was able to ride one large wave with little further damage to herself, and none to the prince, to the safety of the sandy beachhead. Avoiding the coral reefs and sharp crags jutting from beneath the sea, the huge wave lifted them into the night air and to safety. The waves, finally in silent cooperation, left her gently upon the soft shoulder of the beach with the delicate touch of a feather floating to earth. Neither was injured further. But both were exhausted and the prince was still unconscious.
Saira was grateful to the Mother Sea for leaving them gently on the beach and out of range from further breakers. She offered up a blessing of gratitude for the cooperation and life-saving grace of Father Neptune. She was unable to move her charge any further than where they were so needed to care for him in place. She brushed his long hair from his face and up so closely, she could see his heartbeat in his temples and in the hollow of his throat. He was still alive! She lay across him to put her ear and cheek close to his mouth. She was searching for sound from him and hoped she could feel his shallow breath on her cheek. But she heard nothing above the fury of the storm and felt little of his breath on her cheek. A sharp panic exploded in her chest. Could she be wrong, could he be...be...gone? No, not after
all she had been through to get to him, all the years she had waited.
She prayed, begged tearfully to the God Poseidon to return the prince to her as she breathed her life into him. Deeply, and with deliberation, she took air into her lungs and forcefully blew into his mouth. A prayer with each kiss of life for his life. But, it was not the fair and good God Poseidon or the Father Nautilus who witnessed her life-giving actions and prayers but Hermione.
Queen of the Saltwater Sirens, Hermione was a water witch and fallen court confidant to the Queen Wife of the Sea King, Saira’s father. Hermione was possessed with magical powers the Queen Mother, Saira’s mother, found useful during her reign. She consulted Hermione about the tides, her daughters, the babies she lost and the fortunes in the stars. Hermione was a brilliant designer and had quite a flare for dress and adornment. She regularly could be found fixing the Queen Mother’s hair and gossiping about the affairs of the court. She long entertained the Queen Mother with her stories, laughter and jokes. She thought of herself as almost royalty herself, but knew that she was not. Hermione was unwed and free to follow her own passions and interests that were well known to all far and wide. Her taste for the brawny males she used to satisfy her appetites ran tawdry and were frequent and intense.
Then, she ran afoul of the Sea King, Saira’s father and she was banished from the kingdom beneath the sea. The Queen Mother begged and pleaded for her to be spared but her father would hear nothing of it. Her mother cried for weeks and denied the King her bed, but still, she could not influence him to reverse his decision. Until the day she died, she never knew why it was her husband banished her dear friend.
It was a command that she told him he would one day regret.
Hermione used her powers occasionally for good but often for evil entertainment at her whim to suit the circumstances, and her personal desires, or simply to sate her boredom. Hermione stayed back in the dark recesses of the night, rode the folds of the pitching waves and watched as the little mermaid tended the human, frantically trying to save his life.
