This choice: Alima tries to take the medallion from you. • Go Back...Chapter #7Alima tries to take the medallion from you. by: Mr. George   Alima's hand snaps out, grasping the medallion, already you feel terrified, afraid she'll simply rip it off, and destroy the magic leaving you stuck as a mermaid.
Her hands are more agile than you realise, as she removes it without it even catching in your billowing blonde hair. She swims away, allowing the medallion to trail behind her, deliberately teasingly close. You hope, you doubt this is simply mermaid play. Alima's form looks as if it's becoming more masculine with every flick of the tail.
She's certainly flatter than he was, and already bigger and more powerful than the transformation made you. Turning she waves it, drifting back and forth in the current. The jaw line is squarer, her face more masculine over all.
Alima runs his free hand over his chest, nodding to himself in satisfaction. Apparently, he considers himself a merman now. In ignorance you can't answer. You certainly are smaller, weaker, more feminine, and your chest while streamlined for swimming is undeniably girlish.
Your position couldn't be weaker, and already terrifying. But you swim closer, reaching out a hand for the medallion. You don't trust your voice not to quake. You don't trust yourself not to beg. Alima's expression softens, perhaps a memory of his own capture making him empathise with your plight.
But, he drops the medallion, in your momentary distraction, he snatches your wrist, and wrenches it against your back. As you flail, he grabs your flapping arm.
Slick, but strong seaweed is used to tie them together. You flop like a landed fish, barely able to control your direction underwater. Alima's face alight with amusement.
"Don't panic, my sweet." his tone mocking.
"Your helplessness makes you even more of a mate for me."
Your bonds stretch, and snap back. Strong enough to hold you, and flexible enough to not work loose. Your chest warms, as you feel it swell even larger. You surpass Alima's original dimensions.... a C-cup? ... The progress terrifying, thoughts of your return to humanity banished in your panic. Your interest in the medallion, banished by your plight.
Her laughter echoes in your ears, as you race past E-cup breasts. Their heft, their inertia making graceful swimming a joke. As your bust sloshes from side to side, as you thrash.
Perhaps the air will help you free yourself. The thought doesn't have any logic, but your desperation is boundless. Your wrists ache as you drive yourself upwards. Alima taking a few moments to amuse himself. He shoulder charges you, deflecting you from your path to the deeper parts of the pool.
But you manage to finally surface, the seaweed bonds finally loosening enough, as you breach the surface. You doubt even a J-cup would suffice for your new bust.
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Spluttering, you turn tight circles in the water, until you spot Alima. He's leaving the water. As he eases himself entirely free, you see the blue tinge of his scales fade towards pink. His tail, separating as legs replace it. He's fully human, fully male, as he walks away leaving you stuck the bustiest little mermaid in the world. With cold dread in the pit of your stomach, you see Alima hasn't just become a man, she's... he's become John LeMure.
Pulling the wooden lever, you hear the gate to the wide ocean clank open. He's allowing you your freedom. He's allowing the mermen, and the triton access to your pool.
"Please...." your words falter, unsure what to ask for, what to fear.
But Alima reminds you, as he takes the medallion in his hand, and smashes it against the sharp point of a nearby boulder. White and brilliant blue sparks come from the crumpled piece of metal.
"You can stay here, as my guest, or if you wish take your freedom." he gestures with a sweeping arm towards the open sea.
"Of course, your life out there will probably be rather different from your past."
Horror and humiliation are etched on your pretty face, as you consider the two terrible options. But for you the game is truly over, the portal beyond your reach with you stuck as a mermaid. In a hidden cavern in your own former palace. The only witness your captor.
Instead of answering you shriek your outrage to the indifferent grotto. John merely chuckles as he walks up the stairs eager to return to his palace, and fuck his harem of beautiful women. Your cry mildly amusing to him, but ultimately the plight of a mermaid of limited pleasure. His footsteps echo up and away, softening as he leaves you behind to your future.  |
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