or: Mester Skygge
Title: My Siren
Summary: Tells of the first meeting between Ward and Siren.
*** My Siren ***
By mester.skygge AT gmail.com
--- My Siren ---
It is neither right nor proper to be drowning at the age of a mere
twenty-three years of age. There's yet so much to learn, to
experience, to feel!
These thoughts churned through my head, making me angry as I fought to
keep my head above the foam-covered waves that would drench my face
and hair leaving the taste of salt and seaweed on my tongue. I would
not die, I would not die!
Before I had jumped from the ship these few minutes ago I had removed
my boots and now, struggling in the sea, I had undressed. I was naked,
except for my sword-belt strapped around my belly. A Gray Knight did
not leave his sword, even in the face of death.
Now and again I could, when the raging sea lifted me up, see the
smooth reefs and the black top of the towering islet right in front of
me. I had been making for that one beacon of hope while my strength
lasted, but I was a rag-doll in the wet, salty arms of the mighty
ocean.
Every now and then I though I could hear the song, that cursed song
that had made the helmsman change course. That had made him set a
course straight for the reefs, while the crew and passengers had
gathered at the bow, staring hungrily ahead.
===
Not that I could blame them. The wordless song, the cursed song, had
been like honey poured on silk. It had carried with it promises,
hints, and teasings. Of burning eyes, of soft lips, of large breasts,
and firm buttocks and thighs, of smooth bellies and long, shining
hair.
There came visions of goddesses, beautiful beyond human knowledge,
wrapping slender arms around me. I had almost felt full lips pressed
towards mine, legs slightly spread apart, coyly inviting me to
experience ecstasy supreme.
But those visions had not befuddled my brain, such as it had done the
rest of the men aboard. Of all the people on the ship it seemed I had
been the only one able to resist, to control myself. After a brief
struggle with the desperate helmsman, which he had won, I had only
been able to watch helplessly as the ship continued on its fatal
course.
I had not had any real choice. It was either jumping and swimming for
the tiny islet on one side of the reefs the ship was heading for, or
remaining and be smashed to pieces.
And now, still with the cursed song of honey and silk in my ears I
finally, finally, felt sand under my feet. Not the smooth rock of the
reefs, but the sand of the steep islet. I stumbled onto dry land and
fell over in an exhausted, fitful sleep.
===
I leaped to my feet as soon as I woke. It was still light, but the sun
would soon set. Looking around I saw that the sea was far calmer than
it had been, and that the tide was lower.
The islet I was on seemed to be slightly oblong, about three hundred
yards at its widest. It looked like a huge piece of broken glass:
Steep, jagged crags of black stone surrounded by a narrow strip of
slightly lighter, sandy beach, and a peak taller than the rest in the
center. That was the point I had earlier been swimming towards,
swimming for my life.
I felt cold and wet and hungry, and began walking around the beach to
keep warm and to investigate if anyone else from the ship had survived
the wreck. The sand was coarse against my bare feet and the sword belt
was chafing my raw skin. Still, I was alive.
The curse-song continued, and now it merely irritated me. Its
seductive call influenced me, I cannot deny it, and having to walk
around naked with a stiff, ready manhood when one has just been
marooned with no food or any real hope of rescue, well... Let's just
say that the Elders of the Order of Gray Knights would not have
approved of me right now.
I wondered why I had not been affected like the others. The song was
very effective, and I could feel its powers tingling inside me right
now. I was distracted by thoughts of soft, wet lips wrapped around my
shaft, my hands fondling the long hair of the woman pleasing me. While
my manhood was quivering in real excitement, there was a calm spot in
my mind somewhere that gave me the chance to rule myself.
===
As I climbed over a small crag that blocked my passage around the
beach I began to hear other sounds beside that of the curse-song and
the sea. It was the sound of men consumed by lust, of moaning and
groaning and growling, a sound that reminded me that man was nothing
more than a beast.
I could not solve the mystery entirely, but the clues were there for
me to see: The crew and passengers, and the hints of the curse-song. I
began walking more quickly along the beach.
There! There were the reefs. With the low tide they were now forming a
continuous barrier, or land-tongue, from the islet and a few hundred
yards into the sea.
And on the reefs, on the smooth rocks, were men from the ship and
their seductresses, and I understood what had happened. They had
fallen prey to sirens. She-demons.
The men, five survivors from a number of more than thirty, were naked
and surrounded by a score or so women. If women they were.
From what I could see they were slender and lithe, lovely and
graceful, naked as they had been born, all with long, long hair
flowing in the breeze. And they were singing with the voices of
goddesses.
The men, caught fully up in the spell of the curse-song, were mating
with the sirens. Each man had a woman beneath him, making love to her
with a strength and ferocity that could only had been induced from the
power of the song.
The other sirens were circling around, singing, watching. Now and
again one would make a jump, and her hair would flow out behind her,
letting her glide softly on the wind, landing many yards from where
she had taken off.
Watching the scene and hearing the song I felt my desire mount even
higher, if that was possible. I crouched behind a rock, my right hand
closing around my manhood.
Unlike the five men consumed by desire I could control myself, but I
did not wish this constant lust to distract me anymore. I took my eyes
of the mating couples and looked at the other sirens.
My attention was fixed upon one that was closer to me that most of the
others. While too far away to see clearly, I thought she seemed
somewhat shorter than the rest. But what interested me was the fact
that her lovely, glittering, black hair was so long that she once
stepped on it and stumbled, a movement that seemed so normal, natural,
in this demonic situation that I could not help choosing her.
My eyes followed her as danced amongst the others, gliding as she made
those long, graceful jumps, her hand gathering her hair when she stood
on the ground, probably to avoid stepping on it again.
The song conjured the image of her lying beneath me, her legs spread,
my hands on her large breasts, my manhood deep inside her. No surprise
that it did not take long before I got my release, a release beyond
all I had felt before. The drops of it splattered on the rock I was
hiding behind, my teeth biting into the palm on my left hand to keep
from grunting in pleasure.
===
Could you imagine my surprise when my manhood, immediately after I had
come, rose up again like a steel rod? I had pleasured myself many,
many times before, despite the Order of Gray Knights explicitly
forbidding it, and I head never been ready again this quickly.
I tried again. This time the song conjured images of the siren, my
siren, pleasing me with her lips, her tongue caressing the tip of my
manhood. I could almost feel her breath and her long hair against my
legs as I touched myself.
Then, after yet another hungry release, the same thing happened. It
was hard and ready once more. When I soon after noticed that sirens
who had been filled with the seed of one of the five men rose and were
replaced by other women, I understood this puzzle as well.
The curse-song was teasing our manhoods back into action, again and
again. As long as the sirens sang the five men would make love time
after time, tireless and eager, and I would be hard as a rock.
Suddenly one of the women rose from where she had lain under one of
the naked men, I could not tell who. And who other glided over to take
her place than the short siren with the longest hair. My siren!
===
It was then that my stupid, innate male ability to be jealous caused
me to make a fatal error. I could not, would not, sit here and watch
her, my siren, being used by another man no matter what spell was upon
him.
I had to do something, but I assumed that men who would willingly sail
towards a reef would probably also willingly defend their captors from
a fellow man if he dared threaten them with his sword. So I decided
not to run over to break up the orgy. Instead I chose to turn around
and stride away from the scene, my back almost as stiff as my manhood.
When I lost sight of the sirens and the song became more distant I was
able to think more clearly. I had to save those five men, for I did
not believe that they would be allowed to escape after their work was
done, but I had not idea what to do. I had to save them, and I had to
make love to my siren, or so the blood pumping through me growled.
I walked around the islet, swinging my sheathed sword, looking up at
the crags and down into the sea, seeking anything that would help
me. But I could think of nothing. I was facing twenty-something
wind-demons and probably their five willing champions as well, and my
sharp sword would not be enough to overcome them all.
I even climbed the crags, hoping to catch sight of a ship in the
distance. The sharp edges of the rock cut my skin, and I was only
rewarded by the view of the unbroken horizon. I was high up on the
islet, and could see the orgy still going on at reef beyond the far
end. If I had looked closer I might very well have seen that not all
of the five men were now making love to the sirens. I ought to have
done that, but I didn't because I did not wish to see my siren with
another man.
I climbed down again, and walked around the rest of the islet,
approaching the reef from the other side. When I came closer my heart
jumped when I noticed a shape resting on the reef. It had to be a
lifeboat from the ship! The tiny vessel was lying upside-down a few
feet from the sea.
I sat for a while looking at the boat, seeing only now and again one
of the dancing sirens. How many men could safely fit into it? I did
not know. How would we use it to get to inhabited lands? I did not
know. Still, these were not the most interesting questions right
now. If I managed to rescue a sailor, then he would know. My task was
to free them, and that was the task I was unable to perform.
I waited and waited in my stupidity and jealousy, thinking and not
finding answers, still refusing to look at the orgy. The
honey-and-silk song went on and on, but my yearning manhood only
served to frustrate me.
In the end I could not take it anymore. I was cold and hungry, the sun
having almost set. I had to do something before sunset, for who knew
what would happen in the night. And so, too late as I was to find out,
I brandished my sword, and ran out of hiding, towards the sirens and
the hapless men serving them.
===
As I ran on sand and smooth rocks I made good speed and soon had the
whole orgy in full view. Only that it was not orgy anymore. Out of the
five men only one was still moving, a siren beneath him, his hips
shaking with exhaustion as the dreadful desire egged him on.
Coming closer, seeing bodies lying at the water's edge, indeed more
than five bodies there were, I realized how the men had met their
fate. The curse-song had made them push themselves beyond their
limits, and so into death.
Fury at the sirens, but also at myself for my hesitation and
inexplicable jealousy, made me roar and run even faster than before. I
did not care if the she-demons attacked me: I would die like a Gray
Knight should, with his sword in his hand, his foes paying dearly in
blood.
But the sirens did not charge me. Instead they scattered, almost like
birds. They jumped high into the air, as high as my head, and glided
in arcs around me with their long hair trailing behind them.
They all escaped me, all except one. The one beneath the last man
wriggled away and tried to jump to safety like her fellow sirens. But
she was too late.
As she leaped I jumped up, my left fist catching the end of her long,
black hair. With a scream and a thud she fell onto the smooth rock of
the reef on her back. It was her, my siren. And just as when she had
stumbled her too-long hair had betrayed her and let me grab it.
At any other time I would have noticed that she looked exactly like
the curse-song had promised me. She had the face and body of a true
goddess in early womanhood, twenty summers at most. Golden skin,
slender limbs, with large, firm breasts and luscious, inviting
thighs. Her face had high cheekbones, full,red lips, white teeth, and
a cute, little nose. But her eyes, oh her eyes!, were big and black,
slanted, with long lashes and expressive, soft brows above them.
At any another time I would have stopped to admire her beauty. But the
curse-song had ended abruptly when the sirens had become aware of
me. The song had ended, my manhood had softened, and I could focus
entirely on the tragedy that had occurred.
The siren, shorter than me by a head, spat at me and shrieked
something, a jarring sound that was somehow welcome after the long
hours of sugary curse-song. Even so, I did not have much patience with
her. Resisting the urge to slap her, I grabbed her by the hair near
the roots, and pulled her after me over to the man that had just made
love to her.
The jealously was almost completely gone as I held the siren's head
down and away from my body to prevent her from doing much except
scratch at my arm. She was not very strong, but still her nails hurt
me somewhat.
Looking around I saw the other she-demons. They were perched on the
crags of the islet, merely looking at us. I pushed the siren down on
her belly and placed my knee in the small of her back as I
investigated the man.
He had been a sailor, the biggest and strongest of them all, the one
who had carried the heaviest loads and drunk and eaten more than
anyone else. He had survived longer than anyone else as well. But now
he was dead. He was covered in his own sweat, his body pushed beyond
even his great endurance.
I rose and, pulling the siren after me none too gently, searched for
the missing pulse of all the nine dead, sweaty corpses that lay on the
reef. I turned a deaf ear to the shrieks of the woman, until I stood
by the overturned lifeboat.
===
Released my grip on the siren's hair, I pretended to be occupied with
trying to right the boat. As I sat down to get a grip under it, I saw
her slowly bend her knees.
Like lightning she jumped, and I lashed out, grabbing her right
ankle. But this time I noticed that she did not tumble down, but that
she and her long hair floated slowly downwards. She took the ground
gracefully, and sent me a look of pure hatred.
On a spur of inspiration I pulled her towards me, and used my sword to
cut off some of her hair close to the roots. That made her yell out. A
scream, if I was not mistaken, of shock and fear.
I cut off more hair. She screamed and fought me. She tried to bite me,
to claw me, to kick me. Nothing helped. I was a Knight, trained in
combat, and she was a slender woman. Indeed, she was far too light
even for her stature, and not very strong at all.
When all the hair had been sliced off, leaving her head looking like a
beggar who had been given a close hair-cut by another, blind, beggar,
I released her. Again I pretended to give all my attention to the
lifeboat.
When she, convinced I was not looking, began running away instead of
leaping into the air, I smiled to myself. I had been right. It was the
long hair that had given her power to glide on the wind.
She ran towards the islet and the safety of the crags and her fellow
sirens. I followed, slowly catching up with her. She began climbing
upwards, but did not managed to escape my arm. I pulled her down onto
the sand. Looking up I could see the other she-demons. They had, using
their leaps, fled away from us to perch higher.
They would not help her!, I thought jubilantly. They would not help
her!
My short-haired siren rose from the beach with a look of fury on her
face. But I just smiled at her. When she attacked me I swiftly forced
her arms behind her back, and marched her back to the reef and the
lifeboat.
This time I kept her under my foot as I now began turning the boat in
earnest and pulled it into the sea. Lifting her up and dumping her
into the vessel, I sat down before her and loosened the oars that had
luckily been tied safely to the seats.
Twice, as I rowed away from the shore, she tried to jump out of the
boat. And twice I pulled her back inside again. Eventually, as the
distance to the reef increased, she sat down on the after seat and
looked at me with murder in her big, black, slanted eyes, her full
lips parted in a predatory sneer.
===
So, that was it. I rowed hard, trying to forget what had just
happened. Tried to make the horror of the shipwreck and the
loved-to-death men go away the way the islet and the sirens did as the
darkness now engulfed them.
I tried to focus on the challenges ahead. Night was coming, there was
no food, no knowing where we were, no knowing what the weather would
be like. I tried to be terrified that it was most likely we would
perish here out on the ocean.
The one other thing I was able to think of, though, sat on the seat in
front of me, our eyes locked to each other in a battle of wills. My
siren. If we ever made it to safety she would be held responsible for
what had happened.
Maybe I would get her hanged. Maybe turn her over to the friends of
the dead sailors and passengers. Maybe.
But through all these thoughts of vengeance came a notion to me, quite
unbidden. It could have been the last echo of curse-song, or it could
be the goddess-like appearance of the siren.
I saw myself with her head between my legs, servicing me, her
master. I saw her beneath me, gasping in lust as I used her for my own
pleasure. Scene after scene of ecstasy flowed past my eyes as I kept
my eyes locked with hers, the blood flowing down to my manhood.
No. I would not get her hanged. She was my siren, and she would learn
what it meant to belong to me.