When Muirgein returned, she emerged from the water like foam-arisen Aphrodite. She had saved me again and oh, how she had grown – grown and changed – and what a magnificent metamorphosis it had been. With no hindrance from gravity, Muirgein achieved prodigious size and now towered over me at more than twice, perhaps even thrice my height, though her singular anatomy rendered any estimation of her exact length or weight inextricable.
Obsidian-like scutes and bulging osteoderms insulated her dorsal hide from harm yet her grey ventral skin remained comparatively sleek. Despite these reptilian adaptations, well-developed breasts betrayed her mammalian heritage – unless, of course, they were merely plump with venom. During the time since our last encounter she had become both more and less human. A true daughter of Typhon and Echidna, her monstrous elements served only to intensify her allure.
Muirgein’s beauty was not exclusive to anatomy, to aspects of the flesh. Golden ornaments decorated her body, much of it undoubtedly salvaged from the wrecks of long-lost galleons. The jewellery had been bent, twisted, and linked to create pieces capable of accommodating her size and distinct physiology. Torcs and bangles wrapped around her neck, ankles, wrists, and even her various tendrils, while a warped and strikingly asymmetrical diadem adorned her head, accentuating her six-pronged osseous crest. This gold had developed a porous, almost organic quality, though I’m uncertain if its texture was an aesthetic choice, perhaps an alloy or process unique to merrow metallurgy, or simply a byproduct of prolonged exposure to a marine environment.
Among her many necklaces was a familiar cannetille, my gift to her from years before. Unable to contain my excitement, I called out her false name. Alas, the barrier of language remained between us. Her voice had such power over me and there was a degree of comprehension, even if the details proved elusive.
But it was doubtful that my tuneless words possessed equivalent significance to her. How defective I must have seemed. Like a nightingale, caged and isolated since hatching, forever ignorant to the melodies of her lost watch. For this, I could not help but wonder if she pitied me.
Tears of joy trickled down my cheeks. Unable to fully wrap my arms around her ample waist, I instead buried my face in her stomach. I was haunted by the horrors of the recent past, the lingering pain and unwanted memories, but her warmth would cleanse me of their poison.
I sat down where the bubbling water was shallow. Muirgein took to the deeper centre, where she performed an aquatic pirouette; if this display was meant to impress me, it succeeded. Looking at her, I found myself drowning in the twin amber pools of her labyrinthine eyes, whose cloudy spirals seemed to go on forever. Her sable lips parted, flashing sharp teeth; a human smile to disguise an inhuman maw.
Muirgein flaunted her luminous flesh, producing a chromatic and mercurial glow that limned every voluptuous feature. Nothing was hidden and I studied these shimmering lines not only as a captivated admirer but as a naturalist. Life under the sea facilitated the development of powerful muscles, especially her abdominals which had grown to resemble chiselled marble. I trembled in the presence of this corporeal goddess as my heart sank beneath my navel and continued to flutter.
Located beneath her breasts were a pair of gills, a trait that had gone unnoticed until now. Likely there since birth, it is probable that they simply appeared increasingly prominent with age. This discovery further mystified merrow evolution, undermining my original assumption that the species underwent a selection process similar to other aquatic mammals, such as cetaceans. I would come to question if the merrows were altered by a greater intelligence as opposed to the anarchy of evolution. Muirgein truly was the living reconciliation of faith and nature.
She lunged at me, like a predator moving in for the killing blow, feinting an attack only to hug me at the last second and spin us round like a pair of dancers.
Feelings of friendship and innocent fascination gave way to burning desire. Such was the strange alchemy of emotions, transmuting perceptions following the introduction of a potent catalyst. I did not consider myself the amorous type, an opinion my past suitors only reaffirmed, and yet there I was, enthralled by passions once thought absent.
These memories are still warm, like the embers of a smouldering bonfire.
Drunk with newfound lust, I abandoned the burden of reason and let instinct be my guide. I began to kiss her smooth ventral skin, tasting the salt of her flesh as my impetuous fingers caressed the tightly bound sinew of her Amazonian physique. Recognising the impetuosity of my actions, I ceased my self-indulgent fondling and pulled away from her.
I tilted back my head and tried to meet her gaze, embarrassed, ashamed, and desperate to convey some manner of apology. Muirgein’s coquettish grin, though full of fiendish incisors, quickly dispelled my nervous worries. She had the slightest underbite, just enough to display a pair of fangs between where her lips ended and where her extended jawline began. What a strange and savage beauty, intimidating yet so easily adored.
There was something different about the way she looked at me. It was subtle, at first, until her eyes and squamous brow contorted to convey a singular and all-too-telling expression. Yearning, it seems, communicates itself through a truly universal language.
Muirgein lifted me from the water, leaving my legs dangling in the air while her more dexterous tentacles cradled my head and torso. One such appendage brushed between my thighs, if just for a moment – brief enough to seem accidental. My beloved knew exactly what she was doing.
There was no turning back, no means of escaping her grip, but egress was the furthest thing from my mind. Brought face to face, I watched her mouth open and a long, azure tongue roll out. It wagged suggestively, displaying considerable prehensibility. Having teased me long enough, she drew me into her sweet embrace.
We kissed. Her dark lips, the only lips I’ve ever known, caused mine to tingle, as electricity pulsed through every nerve in my body. I felt as if my heart would erupt and engulf the world in flame. Truly, the cinder of my heart burns just as bright for her now. For her, all others were but tinder and I would raze all-creation for one more taste.
She explored my neck, then down my back – kissing, licking, and gently grazing my skin with her teeth, a reminder: “I could devour you…”
I whimpered as my most salacious dreams were realised, oblivious to the ecstasy that still awaited me.
Swooning, I laid my hand upon her cheek and slowly gravitated to her lips where my middle and index fingers slipped inside. Muirgein’s bright eyes widened with apparent bemusement as my saliva-soaked digits pulled aside her mouth to its furthest corner. There I paused to admire her rows of interlocking teeth and their zigzag pattern. The fact that she could effortlessly destroy me, and that I would let her if such were her desire, only deepened my arousal.
As a virgin, I was utterly ignorant to the ways of intimacy. Rarely did I engage in the solitary vice but alas, my living goddess manifested a carnal itch that no amount of deviancy could satisfy. Only she could ever invoke such mad affection and not a single soul in the world would feel differently had they known her as I.
Gripping me tight, Muirgein dove backward and propelled us to the other end of the spring with a single swipe of her tail. Leaning against a monolith, she set me straddled atop the underside of her vertical length. A witness to her full glory, I was rendered dumb and drooling. If this forgotten grotto was a temple, then I was now before its holiest of altars. I nudged closer, wide-eyed, bouncing, and smiling like a simpleton.
Harmonious moans guided my touch, and when the time was right, Muirgein delivered me to the heart of her femininity. Her pliant folds resembled a bluebellvine flower and I explored her garden like an innocent in Eden. There was joy in service and submission. We were but two creatures, sinless in our love, entangled as nature willed. As we delighted ourselves, her song never ceased – a melody interlaced with carnal cries, lewd whimpers, and their accompanying spasms.
I hear them still, in my most euphoric dreams.
A seemingly satiated Muirgein let her body slump but raised her tail, allowing gravity to send me sliding down onto her lap where our most intimate parts touched, flushed and throbbing. With one hand gripping her hip for balance, I nestled the other between us and stroked to the rhythm of her sonorous hymn.
Upon her holy altar, I sacrificed myself; again and again, I died enraptured until we both collapsed, entwined in shared oblivion. Through her sacred flesh and unabashed designs, my goddess showed me the agony of ecstasy.
Nevermeant 