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Presenting Paradise

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PRESENTING PARADISE

by Iscin

This is a work of erotic fiction.

All characters portrayed within are 18 years of age or over.

All rights reserved © 2015.

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CHAPTER ONE

The Dig

The venture, such as it presently is, began as nothing more than a selfish wish. Since he could barely reach the handle of his lavishly furnished room as a child, Lord Adrian Crown, the second of his name, had been obsessed to the point of infatuation with life under the waves. From soppy faced tuna fish to colourful sea slugs, he had an insatiable desire to learn more about the wonders of the life aquatic. And that initial spark soon became a fire leading him on to fantastic dreams as a lad. Those dreams were further fuelled by the myths and tales familiarly retold by raconteurs both common and noble, to the less well known tales buried in ancient writings or drifting in from the Silk Road. Such as it was that Adrian's formative years were influenced by his childhood fancy and became intertwined with carnal pubescent wants.

Being born into wealth and prestige the Lord wanted for little. The meteoric rise of his father from lesser nobility to greater was shortly enjoyed by that ignoble of men, seeing as his life was dashed short through a nasty bit of business regarding his honour. Once great men reach their zenith they subsequently struggle to recapture those peaks and in doing so expose themselves to greater risks. And Adrian's father was that most greatest of sorts, an adventurer, an explorer, and a gentlemanly natural philosopher. By direct consequence Adrian had been raised more by the household servants than his own parents. And once they were gone, not even twenty years of age, he inherited all their wealth and status but was completely rudderless in taking the reigns of such a position. Here was a boy then trying to wear his father's clothes; and truly that is all he looked to be in the eyes of his white haired peers.

Alone in this world Lord Adrian became all the more interested in the tales he had heard so much about. Like so many of the aristocracy Lord Adrian became a dreamer and by consequence a patron of the burgeoning archaeological might of the empire. There was not a single university with a natural history and archaeology departments that he had not made some contribution to. And in return he received news, often delivered by couriers on a daily basis, from the myriad dig sights and excavations around the globe. For a time he was satisfied to read of the discoveries, such as those of ancient fossils and long forgotten cities, before the other members of the intelligentsia let alone the papers had a chance to become excited about such extraordinary things. Among these discoveries Lord Adrian hoped, prayed, for a reprieve from this dull existence; for something beyond what is meant for any mortal man. A mad desire perhaps until the day that a certain letter arrived at his residence.

It was plain stationary and more scrawled than written in an unrefined shorthand. Not like some of the other professors and students of the universities, this letter had come from a very particular sort of gentleman. Someone lowborn but of great resourcefulness and whose work ethic had elevated him to a position of note: Adolfo Marcos. He had found something which he believed to be of immense importance in a region of Mesopotamia. Not neglectful to leave too many details in the communique he implored Lord Adrian to help him make a judgement call on what to do with his discovery, since the nobleman was the one paying for the expenditures of the dig. Intrigued by the brilliant, albeit uncouth, archaeologist's own excitement Lord Adrian made arrangements to leave the very next day.

That was some ten days ago. Now, Lord Adrian finds himself standing on the edge of the dig site itself. A few feet from him there begins a steep decline down into a sandy hole with crude ramps and wooden scaffolding permitting the labourers to continue excavating dirt and rubble. At the very bottom of the pit there lies the unearthed entrance to a building that has remained mostly intact through the ravages of time. Lord Adrian is told that the structure is believed to be some kind of temple that was constructed over five thousand years ago by a civilisation in the region that modern historians and archaeologists still know very little about. The nobleman wipes his brow with the same white cloth he has been using for the past few hours now, the increasingly unclean looking fabric seems to be containing more moisture than his own body by this point.

'So, this is it?' Lord Adrian rhetorically asks of the archaeologist standing besides him.

'Aye,' Adolfo says. 'We've already made it inside the first two chambers. Excavation teams are still bringing up dirt as we tunnel through.'

'Can we go down?' Lord Adrian asks, feeling like a wide eyed child again.

'Today?' Adolfo asks sceptically, Lord Adrian nods in curt response. 'I'll tell the foreman.'

***

Lord Adrian feels a shudder run along his spine as he enters the first excavated chamber. There is no denying it, the young noble is imbued with the excitement of discovery, or rather rediscovery seems a better term for the process of archaeology. Adolfo follows in from behind seeming more cowed than the aristocrat by the artifice of dubious integrity. There are a couple of labourers ahead, still toiling away at bringing back dirt and debris, revealing a mural upon a broad wall at one end of the chamber. Lord Adrian notices that there are two passages leading off into other chambers and more, and he can hear the sounds of yet more excavators at work beyond this sort of vestibule. The head archaeologist tries to draw the younger man's attention to the mural, an intricate depiction of some long forgotten event, fact or fiction. But to the wiser man's frustration by the time he turns back to address the silver spoon fed dilettante he has already absconded to one of the adjacent chambers. Reminded of children on Christmas Day the archaeologist sighs and takes out his pipe.

Free to roam, Lord Adrian begins exploring one room of the temple after the next. Workers ignore his presence, apparently having an unusually effective work ethic, as the nobleman takes in one sigh after the next. Some of the rooms appear to be some sort of waiting areas, with rows of what could almost be considered pews. There are others which have a focus on some half-intact statue or other that has become so damaged as to be utterly unrecognisable what it was originally meant to be; although Lord Adrian notices that one appears to have had some kind of fan. However as the aristocrat explored ever deeper into the interconnected rooms he begins growing more and more oblivious to the less interesting aspects of his surroundings. Most importantly of these are the sudden lack of labourers around him.

Suddenly the loud crashing sound of falling rubble breaks Lord Adrian out of his tourist trance. He jumps in his own skin, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end and his heart is racing ahead of his ability to assess what is happening around him. All too late he realises that the entrance to the chamber he just entered has collapsed in on itself. After the dust starts settling he picks himself up from where he tried taking cover on the opposite side of the room. At the very least there is still light from the lanterns that Adolfo's men setup against the walls. Lord Adrian carefully approaches the caved in entrance and tries to assess the rubble. There is a lot of that much there can be no doubt. Far more than he can be reasonably expected to clear on his own without food, water and even air. Of course he tries shouting next, covering his face on each intake of breath so as not to inhale any of the dust that has not yet fallen back to the ground. After a few minutes of this wailing and hollering at nothing but rocks there is no indication that anyone has noticed and Lord Adrian's throat has begun to grow sore and his tongue dry.

Dejected and afraid he takes a couple steps back from the caved in doorway. Come on old chap, you can get yourself out of this. He thinks to himself and begins trying to work out a way so as to uncover a weak point or something, all without having the mess fall in his way and bury the man alive. Wait what's that? The heel of his shoe makes contact with something. It is sticking out enough for him to notice but not fall over it and onto his back. Lord Adrian turns around and crouches down to investigate what appears to be a solid object buried in the dirt beneath his very feet. He should be still working on a way to save himself, not wasting his time on meaningless junk, digging his finely manicured hands through the dirt. But his curiosity compels him and he begins digging whatever it is out. The soil is easy to move but not entirely loose, requiring a little elbow work and in the process the nobleman gets more than little dirt underneath his fingernails.

'What are you then?' Lord Adrian says to the inanimate object as he starts tugging on the portions he has unearthed. The thing finally comes free with a start and Lord Adrian nearly falls backwards under his own momentum.

What the young aristocrat has uncovered is not entirely unknown to him. In fact a great many people have a somewhat firm idea of what the metal object is, were they to see it for themselves. More than a few of the oldest legends of this region and elsewhere have made it over to the european powers. Many of them converted into children's stories, tales like those Lord Adrian remembers being read to him many years ago now. What he now holds in his hands is a metal lamp. An oil burning eastern-style lamp to be specific. The unusual object is big and immensely heavy, so much so that Lord Adrian is unsure if he would be able to keep the thing aloft with just the one hand, just as well that he is using two.

Perhaps... no, that would not work. The very notion is laughable. Lord Adrian tilts is head so as to incline one ear towards the caved in entrance. There is still no sound, nor sign of anyone trying to re-excavate from the other side. Then again what harms could there be in trying it. Making his decision, the aristocrat sits down properly on the floor, crossing his legs so as to support the lamp whilst he looks closer at it. Despite having been buried in the ground only a minute ago the odd curioso appears untarnished, unscathed and nearly completely mark free. He takes a cursory look over the engravings on it, though the glyphs are indecipherable to him. With a shrug Lord Adrian begins rubbing the lamp.

However in the myriad of things that keep one foot in legend and one foot in truth, this old idea of a wish granting spirit do have some veracity to them. Many are red herrings of course, inanimate objects that people impress their hopes upon. But after rubbing the lamp for a good ten seconds the thing starts coming to life in his hands. Lord Adrian's surprise quickly starts turning to panic as light spills forth from the cusp of the oil lantern's spout. A brilliant force not of the natural order fills the room, outshining the merger artificial illumination and temporarily dazzling the nobleman's eyes. And worst of all the floor begins to crumble and cave in. The last thing Lord Adrian is aware of in this instance is a falling motion, the world tumbling upwards before something suddenly and very roughly strikes the back of his head.

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CHAPTER TWO

Jinn

He is not dead. That is the first important thing that Lord Adrian note as he regains consciousness and his brain begins waking up. An aching pain in the back of his skull that is probably the result of a concussion confirms that much at least; a ghost would not experience pain would it? He blinks a couple of times and now tries sitting upright for a change from laying flat on his back surrounded by rubble. More pain shoots along his torso, this time coming from his bruised back. Lord Adrian curses under his own gasping breath as he braces against the stabbing sensation. Everything still seems to be working so far, just a lot of bruising and plenty of pain to accompany.

'That looks painful.' A voice more feminine than masculine says with no hint of an accent.

Lord Adrian freezes, briefly considers what he just think he heard and realises that he is presently surrounded in nothing but darkness. He looks up but is unable to make out where he made his entrance from. All of his senses are on alert now, the pain falling behind as his whole body winds up like a coiled spring. Someone is down here with him, in the black and unknown edges of his environment. Why someone would be down here in a sealed off area of the ruins is beyond him, as is how they would know English and speak it so well. But questions are not really on the forefront of his mind as he assess his situation like any wounded animal with sufficient intelligence might.

'Show yourself!' Lord Adrian commands whilst with his right hand he starts feeling around for a blunt instrument. He quickly finds one of the pieces of rubble that fell with him and picks it up, being careful not to cut himself on the rough edges. 'I shall not be toyed with.'

'Aren't you a little too beleaguered from your injuries to be making demands now?' The voice asks rhetorically. 'I mean you no ill will, Lord Adrian.'

'You know my name. Then you know that any harm done unto me will not go unpunished.' He can hear his voice warbling, his throat constricting from the terror that is growing in the pit of his stomach.

'Perhaps I am being unfair.' He hears the voice say before the light shines from seemingly everywhere at once.

Temporarily blinded by the unexpected brightness, Lord Adrian shields his eyes using the arm that is not holding the rock. Slowly his irises contract and he starts lowering his arm, eyes blinking with the final adjustment as they focus on his suddenly illuminated environment. Just as he had assumed, he has fallen down into another chamber of the buried ruin. This one is more spacious than the one he was in, with passageways leading off into other areas. Unfortunately just like the rest, anything not made of stone has become rotten and degraded down to nothing more than dust or rubble. However, it is not the room's furnishings that the nobleman is now looking upon with bewilderment.

'What are you?' He asks of the levitating figure of a woman legs, nor substance. She is an apparition of light, her glow illuminating the room but not his understanding.

'You suspect the truth as you were the one to release me.' The apparition speaks, but the figure of her mouth does not move, nor the sound coming from its direction.

'You're a jinn, right? Something of yore.' Lord Adrian says.

'Quite right. And here is your reward for freeing me.' The jinn says as a parcel of light splits off from its form and makes a line straight for the sitting man.

The strange blue glow envelopes his body before Lord Adrian can object. He is once more panicking until he notices the pain from his back and his head beginning to subside. From skin to bone his body is being mended. No doubt this is a trivial act for the fantastical creature, but one that is more than appreciated by its recipient as he feels his body reflexively responding to the sudden improvement in its condition. To some embarrassment, he feels so satisfied with the sensation that there is something of a stir in the seat of his trousers. Lord Adrian grunts and does his best to obscure that part of himself as he starts getting back up onto his feet proper.

'Thank you.' Lord Adrian says, his eyes still fixed on the glowing figure. 'But before we get ahead of ourselves, what might I call you?'

'Ah yes, a name.' It pauses before continuing. 'You may call me Madame Favreau in this time.'

'A French jinn? Very well, Madame. If I recollect the myths and legends even somewhat accurately, then you must now do what I command, yes?'

For a brief moment, something flickers across the apparition's smooth, as if sculpted, face. Lord Adrian recognises a nerve when he hits one, even one of a non-corporeal being such as this Madame Favreau. She had intended to lead him down a very particular path no doubt, feigning to be his friend and even companion, right up until a moment by which she could make her escape from the lamp and thus him. In truth if the lamp had come into the possession of another she may have had her manipulative ways. But with the aristocrat she is going to have to prove her worth to him if she is going to earn her freedom.

'Not precisely.' She admonishes whilst gliding closer to the rigid aristocrat. 'There is no imperative for me to do anything, whatsoever. However... your kind have certain privileges that I do not.'

'Free agency, right? You have all the power but none of the agency to use it. But I on the other hand...' Lord Adrian is unable to resist a smile that now spreads across his face in a way that sickens the jinn just a little. It is a look that she has seen on so many before him, the greed and lust that can only come from a mortal.

'Correct. For me to be able to do anything I require a mortal's command. Though I can refuse.' Madame Favreau maintains that caveat whilst consigning to the fact that she has a new master, of a sort.

Still ignoring the possibility of all this being a delusion, suffered from the fall he has taken, Lord Adrian Crown II now contemplates what he will command the jinn to do for him; apart from removing himself from this ruin now of course. But before he does anything else he has the wherewithal to around him to relocate the lamp and bends down to retrieve it. The archaic relic managed to skid away some distance from his own landing, yet is devoid of any significant denting or scathing of any sort. Clutching the object in both hands he turns back to the jinn and addresses her as the owner of the lamp.

'Serve me and I shall ensure your freedom after I have had my fill.' Lord Adrian promises like so many others before him have.

'Very well. What is your first wish?' Madame Favreau asks in a bored tone, the non-corporeal representation of her idly examining her own non-existent hands.

'True happiness.' He tells her.

'What?'

'I wish for true happiness. Grant me something that will result in true happiness.' Lord Adrian clarifies.

'Curiously open ended.' Madame Favreau comments.

'Is that a problem?'

'We'll just have to find out.' Madame Favreau replies and with a flash of light, the man, the jinn and the lamp disappear.

---

CHAPTER THREE

Paradise

Being unstuck from one location only to become re-stuck at another is an altogether discombobulating experience. Lord Adrian's head is a mess as he arrives at his destination, his sense of balance reeling and his eyes sore from exposure to who knows what. However, he barely has a chance to gasp for a fresh breath of air before plummeting into a very deep, though calm, body of water. It takes him a moment before he begins to kick with his legs and orientate using his arms, forcing his body back up and breaking the surface. His expression is more shocked than betrayed as he calms down and looks around until finding where the jinn has relocated herself, sitting calmly by the waterside.

'What in hells bells was that?!' Lord Adrian demands an explanation whilst spluttering no end of fresh water.

'That was your express coach, and this...' She stretches her arms out indicating the place they are in. 'Is your deepest desire my lord.'

Lord Adrian is about to say something in reply, but before he can splutter anything more out the magical creature vanishes into nothing but thin air. He considers calling out for Madame Favreau, but at this point he just wants to get out of the water. So he splashes his way, with some wanting for coordination, across and to the edge of the water. Dragging the lamp with him still, Adrian climbs up the embankment and reaches fresh grass as he rolls onto his back and looks up at what appears to be quite a pleasant sky, consisting of only a smattering of cloud and the sun just passed midday. It appears as though he has been taken to a grove of some kind, like a wild garden sitting beside a large lake and enclosed in tropical forest that seems to grow ever denser the further the eyes reach.

So she left me here, in a veritable Eden. But why? Can true happiness really be found in tamed tropics?

Perhaps engaging a creature renowned for its treachery was unwise of him, but nothing ventured nothing gained, right? Lord Adrian sighs and picks himself back up, getting up on his feet as his clothes drip from every opportunity, soaked to the skin, and his skin soaked to the bone. The air is not as hot as it was where he was but is also a good deal more humid. In any case, the first thing he needs to do is remove at least some of the articles of his wet clothing and start drying off. Even if he does not catch pneumonia, the discomfort is more than sufficient motivation to sort this problem out. However, as the nobleman begins taking off his clothes, eyes other than those of the jinn are fixed upon him, watching every motion.

Having dressed for the hot climate where the ruins were, Lord Adrian does not need to go very far before all he is left on are a pair of soggy underpants around his groin. He is considering removing them too when his ears prick up at the sound of something like bubbling squeaks, and a gentle clicking sound situated somewhere behind him. Lord Adrian swivels around, somewhat dramatically, his eyes darting across the line of trees that surround the grove. Something, or someone is here with him. Unperturbed by his own lack of understanding, the aristocrat approaches the body of water once more.

'Is someone there?' He asks and peers into the water, ignoring the placid tree line. 'Show yourself and no harm will come to you.'

Giggling laughter is the only response being given to him. Lord Adrian makes what is almost a growl at the murky and idle still liquid and begins to contemplate going back in. So long as the lamp is in his possession the jinn will not put him in any danger, or so he hopes. However, before he can decide on his course of action something suddenly bursts out from the depths. Water splashes up into his eyes, his face scrunches up in response and now he can feel something grabbing him from the front and behind.

SPLASH!

***

What is that? Lord Adrian thinks to himself as he opens his eyes again. The man is oblivious of the discontinuity from the moment of impact into the water and what is now the present. He can see in only a blur of muted smooth shapes and muted colours, nothing distinctive enough to really understand. One thing he is sure about is that of being underwater. And yet he is not desperate for air, despite a whole minute having now passed as his body slowly reasserts its own agency. He tries to move his arm, but instead something misfires and he feels himself being propelled forward, though by what he still does not understand.

Even as Lord Adrian's sense of place and time returns to him he is once more thrown into a deep sea of confusion as, perpendicular to him, he makes out another face watching him. Squinting as best he can he makes out a face fair, and soft, with eyes like brilliant sapphires. Human and female, until his eyes drift on down and he notices the body of some sort of large fish, maybe a shark, that her the upper half of her seems to merge into. Mermaid? It is the first thought that comes to him as she starts to drift over, her prodigiously sized breasts bobbing gently in the still lake water. She even has a set of gills.

'My name is Leta. How are you feeling Lord Adrian?' Her voice carries nearly perfectly in the liquid medium, reproduced in his ear canal as the vocal expression of a fair-haired angel.

Of course the nobleman wants to respond but even if he is not in need of resurfacing yet he is still holding his breath. So, instead of replying with words he starts to make a gesture at himself, his neck bending forwards as he looks down at himself. It is at this moment that yet something else bizarre and unexplained strikes him in all of its bewildering oddity. He is losing track of the number of times he is being stunned today, but this is something that really takes the cake.

What the hell did that whore do to me?! Madame Favreau, the only logical source of such things. The mermaid registers the surprise on the dolphin man's face. She understands that he needs time to adjust to what has become of him, but that does not make the reaction any less comical in her eyes. Incapable or unwilling to stop herself, Leta immediately begins to laugh. It is a bubbling, giggling sound that carries just as well as her speech and attracts the half man, half cetacean's attention away from his transformed body.

Both confused and a little emotionally hurt at this point, Lord Adrian turns and swims up; now understanding that what propelled him forward was moving a new fluke tail. The sensation of three-dimensional freedom is lost on him as he breaches the surface and tries to latch out onto the embankment. Unfortunately for him he is stopped by the epitome of a Nubian princess, if not for the side of ebony meat hanging from between hir legs. To his shame, he begins squealing as the hermaphroditic giantess catches him by his tail and now starts dragging him back into the lake, effortlessly throwing him back to rejoin hir companion.

'Don't frighten him like that Akela!' Leta admonishes her friend as they corner the now traumatised ex-human. His eyes are darting from one to the other, lingering at places where they really ought not to at this point.

'He was impolite.' The dark skinned one says, hir body having now transformed in the water to be not unlike the other girl, albeit with two slits instead of just the one underneath hir waistline.

'What the hell are you?!' He demands of them, still ignoring his own condition.

A pregnant pause is held as the two girls look to one another and now back at him. The blonde one draws closer to Lord Adrian. Her expression is soft and gentle to behold as one of her hands reaches down and solicits the attention of the slit at the front of his transformed lower half. Lord Adrian's initial reaction is to recoil from this physical contact, but something about the sensation in his lower half makes him stay still. It does not take long for him to realise what is happening as, even with his new physiology, it is hard to mistake the telltale signs of your own body becoming aroused. He allows her other hand to be joined with the first as something slides out of him. Its new tapered quivers to the touch, warming the water around it even as Leta's smooth and supple hands warp themselves around it like a velvet glove.

'You still haven't answered my question.' Lord Adrian says with a whole lot less venom than before.

'Does it really matter?' Leta suggests as she starts to stroke the man's transformed penis.

'N-Noo.' By now, Lord Adrian will say anything just so that she continues will continue, his cock throbbing and wriggling in her grasp like that of a cetacean's.

Akela joins the pair, coming up behind the male like a silent predator. He tries to look back at hir, from the corner of his eye, spying that unusual second slit above the first. Although their bodies are roughly of the same composition as one another, half human and half something that belongs in the sea, there is that unusual combination of male and female anatomy that Akela clearly possessed on the surface and now underwater too. Shi has the devil's smile on hir face while watching Leta working more than one type of stiffness out of the man. Lord Adrian's body language becomes one of compliance, so much so in fact that as Akela now hugs his head in between those mellon-sized chest cushions he almost purrs like a kitten against them, all trace of fear and apprehension dissolving away.

What had once been a moderately sized piece of male human genitalia has now become something far more exotic. Lord Adrian watches from his vantage point nestled within the Nubian's bosom as Leta manipulates and strokes the flexing phallus of his. Weirdly, the organ has a new life to it, with its tapered and long surface bending and contorting itself. With some focus, the man is discovering a limited ability to control the way in which his penis distends, bending it so as the tip that is pointing toward her mouth that is floating only inches away. She giggles, her hands tightening their grip as if to punish the unruly member, but this is only making him grow firmer whilst wriggling against the hug from the hermaphrodite behind him.

After having teased him, this long Leta now brings her mouth to bear. The mermaid-like girl proportionally looks as though she possess a small mouth, petite against the backdrop of the rest of her face, however, she truly has a burdened appetite as she gets her lips around him and starts to choke down the male's dick. Lord Adrian starts to become verbal under the waves, the sounds muffled but still travelling as vibrations in the aqua. Akela's arms tighten, shi is like some sort of female bodybuilder keeping him pinned to hir whilst Leta engorges on Lord Adrian's prehensile penis.

'Woah.' Lord Adrian's brain is quickly forgetting all about his worries and Madam Favreau as her feels his dick getting tugged on past the mermaid's lips.

'Ooooh, he likes it.' Akela says, hir grip still firm and holding the male where he is under the surface.

There is no response from Leta, other than to keep going, taking more of the man's transformed and turgid cock into her mouth. Since they possess a series of gills, it only stands to reason that whatever these creatures are they do not have the requirement to breath like normal mammals do. As he still has a small amount of leeway in using his arms, Lord Adrian reaches out to grab the top of Leta's head. But before his fingers can get a hold of the girl's floating hair he is stopped by Akela. Their eyes meet and what the nobleman sees behind hir gaze terrifies, but also excites him. It is obvious who is really in charge here.

Leta's chin reaches the base, her mouth and throat now enveloping the entirety of Lord Adrian's organ. Warm, tight and tugging at him from nearly every surface. He swears that he is feeling things that should simply not be. As if a serpentine tongue, or more than one rather, are wrapping themselves around him from passed her lips; maybe it is just the adjustment to his new body. In any case, it does not matter as more of that concern and curiosity from before is falling away from the forefront of his mind. As her fingers slide over the underside where his testicles have sunken into the male makes a gurgling sound in the water, his cock jumping a few more centimetres down her throat.

Watching her partner going to town on the aristocrat's harpoon is beginning to get to Akela. The hermaphrodite is not one to stay idle whilst something this exciting is going in right in front of hir. Even if not for hir intention to get involved, there is no stopping the stirring of what lies between hir legs as it ascends in the warm waters, brushing up against the side of the man's fluke tail, catching his attention. Once more he looks over his shoulder, away from Leta and into the dark eyes of the larger of the two provocative assailants. Shi winks back at him knowingly and begins unwrapping one of hir arms away from holding their prey and down to get a grip of hir instrument.

'Do you like rides, little man?' Shi asks in a dark tone that conveys very well in the water.

'What kind?' Lord Adrian asks, barely paying attention to Leta's excellent oral work.

All three of them tumble forwards in the water. Lord Adrian gets dizzy as blood rushes to his other head. Adela is readjusting their position, giving hir courtesies to Leta as the mermaid does her best to stay still, her hands held tightly around Lord Adrian's waist. With only a couple of motions, Akela has managed to get their male friend in a more agreeable position than what was. He can hardly tell what that position is, however, with one end of Leta's body coming up against his face. Something pink is in front of his nose that takes him a few seconds to realise that it is Leta's most indecent area. However what he does not yet realise is that the hermaphrodite as repositioned hirself to join hir friend on the male's frontside.

'Have you got this?' Akela asks, to which Leta responds with a hand gesture. Lord Adrian can barely make anything else out as the female presses herself against his face, begging for him to start eating her out.

Due to the change in his anatomy, one of Lord Adrian's orifices has relocated on his person. Instead of facing the back of him, along the same stretch as his dorsal fin, it is located further along past his belly at the front. Only now however does he notice this change as something begins to protrude in that most unlikely of ingresses into a gentleman's person. His protests are squelched as Leta presses her body against him, hard, forcing the male to have his lips meet her lower lips, whilst her upper lips are still busy with his member. Not that he is worried about the female so much as the hermaphrodite who has taken position lower down along Lord Adrian's body, pressing against both him and Leta, hir arms around both of them.

The first inch is the easiest. Even so, and surrounded by water that helps ease hir passage, it is no small task to take the hermaphrodite into his anus. Lord Adrian screams in surprise and pain but is doing so directly into the clitoris of Leta. It continues, long, thick and as hard as stone. The turgid black cock pierces his body with a self-indulgent groan from the overwhelming might of Akela, whilst the blonde continues to suckle and milk at his cock, encouraging it to grow ever more agitated. Their bodies tumble in the water, intertwined even as they begin thrusting against one another, stirring currents and broad waves of motion in the lake. Lord Adrian's mind is enslaved to the three delights be is being exposed to right now.

Akela congratulates the male on relaxing for hir, his sphincter allowing more of hir pulsating phallus to spear inside. If he were not under the influence of erotic inebriation the nobleman might feel embarrassed, but he scarcely cares as his hands come around Leta's fish scaled half and holds her closer to him. Even with the water diluting everything he can taste something like the enticing juices of a normal human female. It is enough for him to push his tongue inside, trying to run it inside her fleshy walls, this side and that. Lord Adrian is eager, no more than that, he is enraptured by the pair, from tongue to cock to anus. He will have all of these delights and know what it truly means to go beyond what could ever be considered cultured or even normal from his homeland.

Leta is the first to reach her limits. This is surprising even to her considering the amount of time that she has been working on the male. But, there is no denying that Lord Adrian's eagerness is more of a turn on than anything of the physical. She can tell from the way he is eating her out down to his body pressing against her and subsequently against Akela. This is what the mermaid enjoys best in life, turning the pure into the impure in a matter of minutes. Her squealing delight is only muffled by her mouth still full of the aristocrat's throbbing dolphin dick. Not that it such orgasmic cries are the only indication as her body trembling from head to fluke, hands gripping tighter around the male as her nether regions explode in a warm bliss that Lord Adrian continues to nuzzle into. Leta's efforts slow, her body tensing and now growing lax between the two larger hybrids.

Both Adrian and Akela notice their companion's first orgasm, quickly followed up by a second and now a third one. However, both male and hermaphrodite are a little oblivious to the female trapped between them now. If someone had told Lord Adrian that this is how it feels to have someone inside you like this he may have experimented long before his life took this supernatural twist. No matter though as he is gaining plenty of experience from Akela who is happy to drive into him, hard, deep and lightning fast. Growing annoyed with the flailing girl between them, Akela grabs Leta's arm and casts her aside, barrelling off into nowhere. Now shi gets to do something that only people like they can enjoy.

'What are you doing?' Lord Adrian asks as Akela grabs the male's prehensile dick and flexes it around hir own before threading the tip into where either hir vaginal slit or anal slit lies; he has no real interest in the distinction by this point.

Akela renews hir thrusting, pushing their bodies together and squeezing Lord Adrian's face between hir large, black breasts. He cries out in delight, barely able to even process what is happening. Shi is penetrating him, whilst he is penetrating hir. Their bodies are reaching a near perfect synchronicity. With each movement bringing them together, their bodies tense, externally and internally, both gripping down on one another's long, flexible dicks, incidentally frotting one another at the same time. By the time that Leta has reorientated herself, she is now watching the pair going faster and faster, making squealing and happy sounds as they enjoy one another's bodies.

Light, sound, and all feeling on the surface of his skin dulls before coming back with a vengeance. Lord Adrian howls underwater, his body being swept in a perfect moment of complete carnal bliss. He can feel his loins, hidden as they are, exploding with their contents surging through his dick. But at the same time he can feel hir, pumping him full of the hottest and dirtiest fluids. However, most importantly in this situation, he can feel his mind slipping, becoming unstuck from what it was and sliding into something new. All too late he is realising that this is all something so much more than the physical. Even his orgasm barrels on ahead of him, his mind is becoming numb, his cognitive faculties compromise by something that is unnatural and beyond his comprehension even if he had all of said faculties.

'Yes, yes!' Akela mutters into the male's ear as shi holds him against hir chest. 'You are ours now, pet.'

Lord Adrian trembles, his eyelids growing heavy. The last thing he is aware of is Leta joining from behind, once more trapping him between the pair.

'And the Madame's, of course.' Leta whispers.

Fool.

---

CHAPTER FOUR

Coda

Madame Favreau sits at the edge of the lake, the fingers of her right hand slowly pushing the edge of the water, creating gentle ripples on the surface. These small waves begin attracting the attention of the water's occupants and the jinn stares into the water as something approaches from underneath. There you are. She smiles at the blue-eyed face of Leta, the girl giggling as she reaches the bank and starts to climb on out. Her body undergoes the metamorphosis in the blink of an eye, fish scales shedding off even as they disintegrate into nothing and two, tall, smooth legs granting her mobility on land as she joins the jinn.

'Is it done?' Madame Favreau asks.

'You already know that Madame.' Leta says, drawing close so as the jinn can inspect the naked woman, her idle hands rubbing over herself.

'And where is he now?' The jinn asks the sweet mermaid.

'Dancing with Akela.' Leta says whilst gesturing at the lake.

'And the lamp?' Madame Favreau asks, her voice becoming heightened.

Leta giggles at this, a mischievous look in her eyes. She reaches forward and tugs at the ethereal clothes of the jinn, her other arm pointing back towards the lake and its murky depths. Apparently the lamp is down on the bottom and if the jinn wants it she is going to have to come pay the half-fish/dolphin people a visit. At this suggestion, the magical entity looks to be experiencing some trepidation, not at all eager to follow Leta's guidance. Although that jinn brought Lord Adrian here to become enslaved by these sirens, their powers are not at all within the purview of her own control; something that makes Madame Favreau understandably nervous when getting in the medium by which their powers hold the strongest sway.

'Come on in, the waters still warm.' Leta invites, diving in with her body transforming in a split second. Disappearing under the surface as the water slowly settles once more.

Maybe sending him to these two was a bad idea after all. The jinn thinks whilst staring at her own reflection in the opaque liquid.