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Ariel's Wedding Night (mf, culture clash)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Ariel's Wedding Night (an unauthorized Little Mermaid story)
Christine Morgan
[email protected]
comments welcome
The wedding ship sailed serenely under a sunset sky.
The weather was as calm and perfect as King Triton could
make it, in his happiness on the day of his youngest
daughter's wedding. The humans aboard were making most
merry. They drank wine, rum, mead, and whatever else they
could lay hands upon. Most were drinking out of joyous
celebration, but there were those who drank heavily, Lord
Grimsby included, to try and forget the fact that Prince
Eric had married a fish. All agreed that marrying a fish was
considerably better than the octopoid witch that had nearly
tricked the handsome young prince into wedlock. Princess
Ariel was lovely, sweet, and kind. She had legs as a human
did, but none of them were going to easily dismiss the
memory of her flopping on the deck with a scaled green tail.
Among the nervous were those who made their living by
plundering the sea of its wealth. Eric's was a coastal
domain. Fishing was their main source of food. Difficult,
that, when what was hauled up in a net may be kin to their
princess. Shipping was another means of income, and even
piracy (though they called it privateering). But it was now
confirmed that the sea was the realm of a king, a king with
power over wind and wave, a king who might impose
restrictions on travel across his territory. The staff of
the royal kitchens had been in a quandry. How to prepare the
traditional wedding feast while keeping away from seafood?
Instead of succulent roast dolphin, they had to serve beef.
The few cattlemen of the realm were quite pleased, but their
herds and farms would not sustain the masses forever. All in
all, it was understandable that the liquor flowed freely.
The only ones aboard who were not distraught over one thing
or another were the bride and groom, and Eric's shaggy dog
Max. Max had eaten most of the cake that the chef Louis had
ruined in his pursuit of Sebastian the crab, and the overfed
dog was now sprawled beside the mainmast sleeping it off.
Louis, who had broken off most of his teeth, was sleeping
the sleep of brandy given him to ease the pain. Ariel and
Eric stood on the prow, arms around each other. The wind
stirred her luxurious red hair and ruffled the lacy hem of
her gown. "Oh, Eric, I'm so happy," she said in the breathy
yet melodious voice that he had heard in his dreams since
the day she had saved him from drowning. He lifted her hand
to his lips, kissing it lingeringly. "Shall we go to our
cabin?" She nodded, blushing and smiling shyly. He led her
to the spacious cabin. It was lavishly furnished and piled
with gifts. Once the door was closed and securely locked,
Eric gathered his bride into his arms for a passionate kiss.
She responded expertly, warm soft lips flavored with wine,
tongue darting like a tiny fish amid the coral shoals of his
teeth. Ariel could tell immediately that Eric had never been
kissed by a mermaid before. His eyes flew wide, then closed
in rapture. She let her hands drift like waving strands of
kelp over the sides of his face, the strong line of his jaw,
running her fingers through his hair. When she released him,
he blinked at her, then grinned. "You didn't kiss me like
that before." She lowered her head and gazed up at him from
beneath long silky lashes. "You weren't my husband before."
"If I'd known it was like that, I would have married you the
day I found you on that rock, wrapped in sailcloth." She
giggled and kissed him again. This time, he slid his hands
up the brocaded fabric of her bodice to her full bosom. "Do
you still wear seashells under here?" he murmured against
her mouth. "The dressmaker wouldn't let me." She squirmed
against him, giving him more access. "Actually, this is
really uncomfortable." Eric's grin widened. "Why don't you
take it off?" "Undo me?" She lifted her hair over one
shoulder and turned her back to him. He began unfastening
the dress, his fingers clumsy on the tiny pearl buttons.
"Damn! How many are there?" "Half a hundred," she said,
frowning. "And half a thousand on the skirt. So many oysters
died to make this dress, which I'll wear only once." "Don't
think about it," he said, caressing the milk-smooth skin of
her back. "Think about you and I and how happy we will be."
"Mmmm," she sighed. He fumbled another few buttons open,
then muttered an oath and seized the sides. He pulled. The
dress came apart with a rapid patter of pearls hitting the
wooden floor. "Eric!" she gasped, pretending shock. She
shrugged out of the gown, loving the feel of the cool sea
air on her skin. She was completely bare beneath the gown.
The dressmaker had argued for complicated undergarments, but
she disliked the confinement. Her breasts needed no uplift.
Her legs were long and smooth, utterly free of scars and
blemishes. Her waist was almost too narrow, her hips sweetly
flared, her bottom firm and cute with one dimple on the
left. She had spent many hours surreptitiously studying
human women, and knew herself to be quite appealingly
shapely. Eric's reaction confirmed it. He admired her as she
stood proudly, turning this way and that. "I was afraid
you'd be shy," he said, laughing a bit at his own
foolishness. He peeled off his shirt as she watched
intently. When she'd rescued him, his shirt had torn, and
she had thought there was something strange about his chest.
Now, as it was revealed, she saw that she was right. There
was a patch of short curly hair in the center, spreading out
in a fan shape between his nipples. "You have hair here,"
she said, touching it. "How funny!" A narrowing line of it
went down toward his waist. She traced it, feeling the
muscles in his stomach jump and flutter under her
fingertips. "You have hair somewhere else," he said,
dropping his gaze boldly. "Well, yes, there for some
reason." She shrugged. "It was like that when I became
human. Do you have hair that low?" He nodded. "That and
more." "Show me! All these clothes are so unnatural." Eric
sat on the edge of the bed. Ariel sat beside him, watching
as he tugged off his boots. The sight of his feet made her
want to giggle. Feet seemed silly to her, even her own. No
wonder humans wore shoes so often. With his boots off, Eric
stood and removed his tight trousers. She saw that even his
legs had hair on them. He straightened, and her jaw dropped.
There was something odd between his legs, a pale column of
flesh sticking out of a curly thatch of black hair, and a
wrinkled pouch behind it. She covered her surprise before he
saw it, not wanting him to think her ignorant. There had
been enough of that already, when she had used a fork to
comb her hair or thought Grimsby's pipe was a musical
instrument. Surely whatever that thing was belonged there,
and she wasn't about to act the guppy. Except for the hair,
he was as handsome as any merman from the waist up. Her many
sisters were jealous. They were all older and plainer, and
while they had schools of suitors because they were
princesses, none of them had found true love. "Well?" he
asked, turning as she had done. "What do you think?" "The
statue didn't do you justice." She held out her arms. "Come
and hold me. I want to feel your skin next to mine." "No,
not shy at all!" He threw himself on the bed and pulled her
down with him. They rolled over furs and satin pillows,
laughing, kissing. His skin felt odd next to hers, hairy as
it was, but like the coarseness of his chin, she quickly got
used to it. She missed the whisper-sheen of water all around
her, but found that legs could twine like pairs of tails.
The only problem was that column, which felt hard as bone as
it pressed against her. She reached down to move it. It
lurched in her hand, damp at the end. Eric moaned. "Oh,
Ariel, I don't want to wait any longer!" He rolled on top of
her, the weight of his legs and the pressure of his knees
spreading her thighs apart. "Wait? Wait for what?" she said.
He cupped his hand over the mound of red hair between her
legs. "For this!" She twisted away. "Eric, what are you
doing?" "I want you, Ariel! Now! We can be leisurely later,
but I must have you now or else explode!" Ariel jumped.
"Eric!" His questing fingers were causing strange sensations
in that area, which she thought was for human eliminatory
functions. Why did he want to touch her there? "Ariel! Yes!"
He mistook her alarm for acceptance and flipped her legs up
over his shoulders. That column of flesh, rigid and even
seeming to throb, jutted out from his body. She tried to
speak, but in this awkward position her breasts were
squashed up to her face and she could barely breathe. "It
will only hurt for a moment," he promised. He thrust down.
Her soft tissues parted like wet sand as he forced the
column in. Sudden vivid pain shot through her. She felt as
if a foot of hard iron was rammed into her belly, a fishook
to spear her most vital inner organs. Ariel screamed in a
pitch so high only dolphins could hear her. She pushed
against Eric, trying to throw him off, but he was too heavy.
The column was only halfway embedded, and she was dying from
the agony. She thought he loved her! How could he do this?
Her father had been right! He was killing her! He grunted,
tongue caught between his teeth, and shoved down again. Her
hands beat at his head like a flock of startled seagulls. He
gripped her buttocks, fingers digging in, and drove onward
until their bodies were locked together. The width of his
hips forced her legs wider. She could no longer see the
column, just his black lower hair and her red, so close they
might have made the pelt of one strange beast. Her feet
kicked uselessly beside his ears. "It's all right," he
whispered. "The pain is over, sweet Ariel. It was only your
maidenhead." He withdrew most of the way, and she saw that
his column was now streaked with her blood. He thrust it
slowly all the way back in, heedless of her pathetic
struggles. Ariel was sobbing, gasping, trying to scream. She
pushed harder, writhed under him. He pulled it out and
pushed it in again, again, faster and faster. "Eric,
please!" she begged. "Soon now, darling. Soon. Oh, I knew
you would be like this. Move your bottom, yes, up and down,
as I do, oh, Ariel!" He was enjoying this! Enjoying her
pain! Barbarian! Monster! She had been fooled, so horribly
fooled! In and out, in and out, faster and harder, the whole
bed bouncing and shaking with them. Eric's thighs slapped
against Ariel's buttocks. He suddenly flung his head back
and thrust at her so hard she was sure his invading rod
would burst out of her belly in a gout of blood. "Ohhhhh,
Ariel! Yes!" Two more battering thrusts, and his entire body
went rigid and shuddered. She felt a gush of some hot fluid
inside her and knew she was dying, he had ruptured something
and she would die. He collapsed on her, heavy and covered
with salty sweat. Incredibly, he was kissing her brow, her
cheeks, her lips. "Ariel, darling, that was wonderful!" She
pushed him away and rolled onto her side. "You shark! You
vicious shark!" "What?" He rose on one elbow. "Ariel, what's
the matter?" She sobbed, arms wrapped around her middle. She
could feel stickiness oozing from between her legs but dared
not look. "I thought you loved me!" "I do!" "Then why? Why
this?" "What? But, it's our wedding night?" He sounded
concerned, perplexed. Ariel was not dying as fast as she'd
expected, though she felt bruised and swollen all over. "I
don't understand," she wailed, covering her face with her
hands. "It does hurt a little the first time --" "First
time! You mean you plan to do that again?" "You didn't like
it?" "Like it!?! I tried to stop you! I'm supposed to like
that? Whatever for?" "You're my wife. Don't you want to have
children?" She looked up at him, now even more confused.
"Children?" "Yes. Children. How else would we get them?"
Ariel pulled a blanket tight around herself. "How else? I'll
lay my eggs in the spawning bed, and you swim along ... and
... oh." There was a moment of awkward silence, then they
both spoke at once. "Humans don't lay eggs, do they?" she
asked in a very small meek voice. "Merfolk don't have sex,
do they?" he asked. They stared at each other in horrified
realization. Up on deck, a drunken sailor lit off a whole
box of fireworks and everyone cheered to the long and happy
marriage of Eric and Ariel.
End
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