Atlantis Allure

by eXtasy's Collective Mind

“The same. We’ll take the measure of every man and woman on Atlantis and make our decision. Choosing our seconds and council members must not be rushed, not if we want to grow strong as a people again.” He looked at Crana. “What happened? How did we come to this? There are so few people left here.”

  “It’s a long story, Highness. I took the time to check the history, in case you should ask, and found a few things that had been forgotten over the many years.” The man paced in front of him. “During the land shift, Atlantis lost the ability to remain floating atop the sea. It wasn’t until a few hundred years later that we discovered our gene pool grew thin and we needed the infusion of new blood. Others went to the surface in an attempt to bring others down here. We could mate with them, but if we gave the new mates our blood, they turned into ravening beasts.” He sighed. “We stopped trying at that point. We knew all was lost, so a few of us stayed and a few of us left. Those who have stayed stopped procreating thousands of years ago.”

  Why hadn’t they already known what would happen if a human was given Atlantean blood? Had the information been lost? And what was this about not procreating? Rhyne sat up, not believing what he heard. “Don’t tell me—” Were his people in such dire straights that they had reverted to cloning themselves to keep the blood as pure as possible?

  “I must tell you, Highness. You must know that after ten millenia, we are on the cusp of replication failure. Your arrival has given us new hope. Thanks to our science, we now know that you and you alone can rebuild Atlantis to her former glory.”

  Standing, Rhyne sighed. He’d come home, but home was no longer here. In its place was something he wasn’t sure he even recognized anymore. “The cloning stops now, Crana. If we are to survive as a people, we do it through procreation or not at all.”

  Crana nodded. “As you will it then. I’ll inform the scientists. I will also notify the Queen of your decision to wait to choose your betas, then make sure all the other preparations are underway. It’s less than two hours before the event and you need to take yourself to the groom’s chamber to bathe and dress.” With that, Crana bowed again, then quickly left the room, data pad in hand and mumbling to himself.

  Rhyne smiled, then let his thoughts drift back to his mate as he stood and quickly and left the room. Two hours wasn’t much time, especially if he were to take the time to check on his surprise for his mate.

  * * * *

  Tara looked into the mirror, amazed at the Atlantean’s version of wedding-coronation attire. Instead of a long white gown, or any gown at all, she was dressed in leather from her neck to her toes. A skintight pair of red leather pants molded her legs and ass, fitting like a second skin. On top, a red corset with black suede trim barely covered her nipples. It seemed like the rest of her breasts were contained by nothing more than a wish and a prayer. To complete the ensemble, black knee-high boots, also made in hand-tooled leather and a black cape made of some sort of soft, suede type material with black fur at the neck. Never before had she seen the like.

  Shaking her head again, she could only imagine what her grandmother would say if she could see her now. She had to admit, though she may look like a dominatrix—minus the whip—she did look hot. Behind her, the door creaked open. Assuming it was one of the women who’d been assisting her all morning, she called out, “I think I’m about ready. Just give me a minute.”

  “Oh, Granddaughter, you look so beautiful.”

  Tara spun around, shocked that her grandmother had been brought here to attend the ceremony, but the woman who stood in front of her was a stranger. Crushed, but unwilling to let a stranger know how disappointed she felt, she cocked her head. “Do I know you?”

  “I should hope so. I’ve been your grandmother since the moment you were conceived.”

  “But…but that’s impossible.” No way was the blonde bombshell standing there her grandmother. This woman would give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money and she had to be at least five decades younger than her grandmother.

  “It seems after being given less than a teaspoon of your mate’s blood, I have reverted to this. Apparently, this is what an eighty-five year-old Atlantean looks like.” She giggled and did a little dance. “I feel wonderful. I look thirty-five, and even when I was thirty-five, I didn’t look this good.”

  “But…I…I just don’t understand.”

  “Rhyne knew you wouldn’t or couldn’t be happy living here without your only living family member with you. And, since you had some of the Atlantean genes, he thought I should be genetically tested to see if I did as well. After all, you had to get it from somewhere.” She leaned forward and whispered. “I knew I did, of course. That’s why I told you to leave town. I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me. Anyway, once the testing confirmed that I have an Atlantean ancestor, he donated a tiny bit of his blood so I could live here with you—with my Trying Tara.”

  Unable to help herself, Tara crossed the room at a run and threw herself into her grandmother’s arms. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, my sweet. It most definitely is.” After a few seconds of clutching each other, her grandmother straightened. “Now, it’s time to take your place by your mate’s side. I spent quite a while with your young man this morning and I can see he loves you very much. How do you feel about him?”

  “I can’t imagine not being with him. In just a day, he became my everything. I’m just worried I won’t be able to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

  “Just be yourself, Tara. That’s all you need to do, be yourself.”

  Nodding, Tara stepped back, stiffened her spine, and looked down to make sure her breasts were still confined in the leather corset. Once done, she smiled at her grandmother and reached for her hand. “I’m ready now, Grandma.”

  * * * *

  The coronation ceremony took place in the center of Atlantis, in a glamorous reception hall-ballroom and lasted less than five minutes. Two throne chairs stood at the far end of the room. The floor was made of pink marble, the ceiling was domed, hand painted and trimmed in gold. Hauntingly beautiful music drifted through the room, though no band or speakers were visible. Men and women filled the chamber, each dressed in long silken robes in a multitude of colors.

  As soon as the eldest member of the current council placed the jeweled crown on her head, Tara turned to greet the Atlanteans as their queen. Beside her, Rhyne lifted their clasped hands. The room grew quiet, still, as everyone awaited the King’s first words. Tara herself had no idea what Rhyne would tell his people, so she, too, held her breath and waited.

  “My people… Long have you awaited the coronation of a new, True-Blood King and Queen. Tara and I are your new Alpha’s. In times past, following the coronation, we would have announced not only our Beta’s, but our choice of Council members as well. Times have changed. We have changed. And the world above us has changed.”

  “The old ways will no longer serve us. We are a new people with new needs. Since science has told us the essence of a True-Blood can rebuild our people, we must search out those like my mate above and bring them home. Otherwise, our race shall perish. Our salvation rests in the hands of those who live above. Over the course of the next month, Tara and I will observe each of you as we try to decide who should hold what positions. However, in the mean time, we will put together a committee of men and women willing to go topside, integrate with the humans of Earth in search of others like my mate, those who are direct descendants of the True-Bloods of Atlantis. Those Atlantean-Human hybrids will be called Strong-Bloods. Only when all our peoples, both True-Bloods and Strong-Bloods, are united will we once again be strong.”

  As soon as Rhyne grew quiet, the people began to strip off their clothes. Tara’s eyes grew wide. “What is going on?” she squeaked, he gaze darting to Rhyne as she asked her question.

  “They are about to pledge their fealty to us.”

  “Naked?”

  Rhyne nodded, squeezed her hand and whispered, “Watch.”

 
As one, the people around her began to shimmer, their forms to glow. In a blink, wolves of every shape, size and color surrounded them. Each and every one of them went down onto their belly, then rolled over, showing their submission. Awe filled her soul. “They are beautiful.”

  “And so will you be when you change for the first time.”

  Tara turned back to Rhyne, “When will that be?”

  “After you give birth to our heir. It’s not safe for you to shift now.”

  Before she could question Rhyne further, the wolves once again began to shimmer. Within minutes, the crowd once again donned their robes and began to talk amongst themselves. One man stepped forward out of the crowd, and bowed to them before dropping to his knees and lowering his head. “I will go topside, my Alphas. I will begin the search for our people.”

  Tara stepped forward. “Please, stand and tell us your name.”

  “I am Alexandros Hesiod.”

  “You realize that since your people made the ocean your home, the world above has changed drastically.”

  Alexandros nodded. “I do. But, I am a warrior without a battle to fight, a war to win. I need challenge in my life if I am to feel useful and this will help our people.”

  Rhyne stepped forward and clasped Alexandros’s forearm. “Then you shall be the first.”

  NINGYO: UMI-NO-OTOKO

  K. B. Forrest

  “King Atlasian, the human armies of Atlantis have advanced on Athens. We have issued them orders to wait for the inauspicious eclipse to pass before attacking.” The admiral paused and bowed before the king, his tailfins waving slightly. “Lord Poseidon has also advised that you see to your personal matters, despite the war. The matter of…of your son…that is…”

  The king, whose face was usually impassive, frowned. “Bring him in!”

  The gilded doors opened and two mermen in military jewelry glided in, the stormy youth between them held firmly by the arms.

  “Artus, my youngest son, you are now of age. As a merman of eighty-five years, you have reached the age of maturity. From now on, you are to be a young man—no longer a mere boy. That carries with it responsibilities.” The king spoke in measured tones and glanced around at his older sons, all seated with their wives to their left.

  The king’s advisor, Mithrus, eyed the wild and youngest prince without turning his head. His long, silvery blonde hair waved delicately and his amethyst eyes were languid. Mithrus nodded and spoke up, “Prince, after due consideration, being appointed as your guardian in personal matters, I have chosen a bride for you from the Apsara people, for we desire to strengthen our ties with them. She will arrive in six months. In that time, you will learn the arts you will need as a husband under my care.”

  King Atlasian picked up from there. “Your behavior has been appalling, young man. Disobedience to the royal elders will not be tolerated. From this day on, you will stay with my advisor, Mithrus, and follow his commands.”

  Artus struggled, his screams toward the expressionless guards. “How dare you lay hands on my royal body?”

  “The guards do as they are commanded, and so will you, my son.” The king’s stony face barely concealed his rage. “You have no rights until you start acting your age. A merman of eighty-five years is no child allowed to waste away the days playing with sea creatures and getting into trouble. The reports that have come to me have been shocking. You have even made contact with humans! You, son of the king and servant of the great Poseidon, have no business breaking those rules.” The king nodded to the guards. “Get him out of here. Mithrus has prepared a suite for him in his castle. Take him there.”

  The guards used a rope made of spun gold and tied Artus’s arms to his sides and his hands behind him. Six guards accomplished this task as the boy fought with all of his royal strength.

  * * * *

  The guards flung Artus into the ornately decorated room and locked it behind them. He cursed them, but nobody answered. After thrashing his mighty tail until he was exhausted, he explored the room. He threw an ornate platter of anemones across the room. “What a foppishly decorated place! Even if he is the high and mighty advisor, he’s not going to make me live like this!” he yelled at the door.

  He swam to a corner of the room and picked up one of the waving sea fans, letting it tickle his nose. Artus remembered doing this when he was little, especially when his brothers would scold him. He just wanted some attention—he had little else. He had wanted long, shimmering golden locks like Mithrus, but as a child, his hair had been wispy and whitish gold. Now, mine is even longer, and many say it is more beautiful!

  He saw a mirror on the dressing table and slunk over to get it. He wiped the surface with his fingers and looked at his reflection. Not bad. His face was delicate and as beautiful as the advisor’s was. Although his eyes were darker and he now wore a frown, he could practice to look proud and emotionless, like Mithrus. Only now it was hard. I won’t marry that stupid mergirl! I’ll pick my own wife, and I don’t care if she’s a human! Mithrus won’t always be able to boss me around!

  Mithrus with his muscular, yet somehow delicate chest and arms possessed eyebrows that could express his thoughts without ever opening his beautiful, shapely lips.

  Artus whipped his tail back and forth remembering that haughty face. Now it was this hated Mithrus who would make him into a man? Never would he submit to instruction from that puffed-up, self-righteous advisor and he would find a way to escape. Maybe he would run away and live in the hated shallows, where even Poseidon loathed to venture. A smile crept over his face. Yes, he would run away, even from the gods. Never would he marry a mermaid! He would keep to himself forever. Anyway, he didn’t know why people spoke so highly of mating with mermaids. And he didn’t even know what it meant really.

  Artus had heard from his commoner friends that there was an organ within the lower sheath in a merman, which could somehow communicate with that of a mermaid. His friends loved to tease him because as a noble, he knew little except what he was taught by royal caretakers. “Sure,” he said poking a finger into the sheath that demurely hid the place where the royal waste exited the body. Many times he felt a rigid bump above it and he squeezed at it. It felt good there. Often he would rub it against large stones, but he’d never seen the organ. It was an obvious lie. He ran a hand over the hard lump. Absurd! A crisp rap at the door startled him. The advisor floated in looking casual, with none of his lovely ornaments. His hated gossamer golden hair haloed his face, with its perfect features.

  “Welcome to my home, Prince. I thought one day I’d have to have you dragged here. Why have you never visited me? Artus, you have treated me like a stranger.”

  Artus knit his brows. “I refuse to listen to you, and I will never marry.”

  “You are still such a child. I can’t believe you are already eighty-five years of age. By the time I was that age, I was quite curious and eager for marriage. Have you never felt desires for womanly pleasures? Surely, at your age you have felt the stirrings in your tail area. Let me examine you.” Mithrus put out a lovely white arm.

  “Get away from me! I hate you!”

  “As you wish. But your instruction begins tomorrow. Be prepared, for my three wives will be your instructors as well.” Mithrus left the room, and shortly, a guard brought a vast array of food.

  Artus was deeply perturbed, so that even the soft live crabs in a gilded net held no attraction for him. Soon Atlantis would rule the world—in other words, soon his father, the king of the Atlantis seas, would be the grand monarch of the upper and lower regions, for the land-dwellers were his serfs.

  * * * *

  Rattling keys woke Artus the next morning. He was so hungry now that his eyes sought the crabs that scuttled in the corners—the ones he’d tossed to the ground the night before. No servants with trays of food arrived. The door opened and three mermaids swam in followed by Mithrus. Their bare breasts were firm and their scales shone like pearls. Their decorous smiles belied their eager eyes.
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  “Artus, please look this way. You are acquainted with my wives, but now you may become more intimate with them. As you seem to be lacking sexual desire, we will demonstrate its pleasures. Surely your interest will be aroused, and you may use them as you will, to initiate yourself to this sacred ritual.” Mithus smiled slightly as the prince backed away with a hand over his mouth. He put one long-fingered hand on his sheath.

  Artus could see that it was very large, as if something were hidden there. The three mermaids circled Mithrus and, as he watched, the redhead put her hand into the sheath, moving deliberately. He gulped as the mermaid pulled down the loose skin and an appendage appeared. Several swishes of his tailed pushed him farther back.

  The thing seemed smooth, but strangely stiff. Artus wondered if bone matter supported it. At its base was a pouch with two roundish balls in it, perhaps the size of pearls from the giant pa’ua clam. The tubular thing that looked like the neck of an elephant trunk clam twitched as her lovely fingers skimmed its surface. He gasped in horror as he felt a dull pain in his own sheath.

  Mithrus smiled slightly, but seemed unperturbed by the thing that had invaded his body. The black-haired mermaid put her arms around his neck and her hands trailed down Mithrus’s chest as she nibbled his ear. The blonde mermaid vied with the redhead as they stroked the swollen thing.

  “Wh-what happened to you? What is that thing, a sea parasite?” Artus had backed up until he was against the wall.

  Mithrus’s smile quirked and he swam closer. “Touch it. You have one, too, you know. Yours will appear with the proper stimulation, for it lies only beneath a thin membrane. Come. Touch it.”

  Artus gulped again for he was curious, and it seemed that the thing didn’t harm the women. He put out his hand while maintaining a judicious distance. It was smooth, yet hard. Curious to see if it was attached or detached, he pushed his hand into the sheath and attempted to remove it. Mithrus groaned as he tugged at the thing, but it was indeed attached above the soft spot where waste exited the body. He looked up to see the advisor’s half-veiled, erotic eyes.