She blinked, but whatever it was got in the way. It felt gritty. Some part of her knew to turn her head first, so she did. There was more light. Her eyelids slowly came apart, but still nothing made sense. She saw blue. But not the blue of the ocean. The blue of …
Bianca sat up.
The blue above was the open sky. The grit beneath her was sand. She was on the beach, and the sand felt so strange because at least some of it was …
Something like a dream was coming back to her bit by bit, as if she’d been given a handful of puzzle pieces and had to work out for herself how they all went together. As her head cleared, pieces started to click. She was high on the beach, the waves barely a few feet from her. It was much higher than she’d normally be comfortable, lest she become beached and unable to pull herself back to the water. But that was okay now because …
A bomb went off in Bianca’s head as it all came together at once, a vase shattering in reverse. She’d seen it when she’d looked toward the water, but part of her — a large and logical part of her — hadn’t bothered to report it to her brain because it was so absurd.
She had legs.
Her mind fired the nerves that would normally flap her fin, and instead the odd hands at the end of a pair of long, tan legs moved up and down. She found she could bend them, raise them, and part them. She wondered, too late now, if she’d be able to walk. It looked so difficult. But maybe with legs came an awareness of how to use them. But that was a problem for later.
For now, there was something else to investigate.
Bianca looked around and realized she was on an open stretch of beach, though not alone. There was a long wooden plank farther up and away from the water, where from time to time a human would walk by. There were also a few other people on the beach, but none were especially close.
Whatever magic Amber had used to change her was a modest, embarrassed sort of magic; she was covered in fabrics like those that she’d seen women on the party boats wearing. It felt itchy and wrong. She had a light pink string-like thing across her torso, with wide patches that covered each of her breasts as if they were something to be ashamed of. There was another piece of the light pink fabric down lower, below her flat stomach. This one covered the tops of her new legs and …
Giddy, her heart racing, Bianca raised the front edge of the lower fabric and peered inside. At the bottom, she saw a soft slit. There was a small patch of hair above it. It was so neat and tidy. So orderly.
Just looking at it, shaded from the sun in its little fabric tent, made that pressing feeling rise inside Bianca. Thoughts rushed into her mind unbidden — the prince’s cock in her mouth, exploding in its rush of ooze.
A breeze ran across her new pussy and made the thoughts brighter and more vivid in her mind. How did that work, exactly? How were thoughts making her — what had Signal called it? Horny? — and how was it that her physically horny whatever was changing the thoughts in her head?
But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that looking down, it was as if that sensation had always been there, but now the protective cap of her fin had been removed and a slit in her middle was letting it all out. That feeling had been bubbling in her core for weeks, but now, finally, it was exposed and accessible.
She wanted to touch it. It was calling to her.
Bianca pulled off the fabric without thinking to use her legs; it simply came to her how to push them into the sand and raise her middle to slip the fabric down and away. Then, once her bottom was bare, her top began to feel itchy and she removed that as well. Now nude, Bianca slipped a finger experimentally between the puffy lips that seemed to have been formed by the slit up her middle.
How was this supposed to work? It hadn’t occurred to Bianca that pussies might be visually inaccessible. The thing was literally between her new legs, and she could barely see any of it. She certainly couldn’t see the hole itself, no matter how she stretched. She supposed it didn’t matter, because the man would be able to see what he needed.
When her finger touched the slit, Bianca felt a bolt of something strong shoot up her middle. She thought for a moment she’d been jabbed with the King’s trident or had maybe grabbed an electric eel, but then quickly realized that the sensation had come from her own touch. She jerked her finger away and the feeling went with it, but the deep throbbing was harder and more intense.
She touched it again, ignoring the initial jolt so she could run her finger experimentally down and up. There was a kind of slime just inside, like the slime on a fish’s scales. She pulled her finger up and looked. The fluid was clear.
She moved her finger up and down. These new lips were sizable, and it felt like there were more flaps further in. She hadn’t been close enough to see things in detail before. Her hole was further down. Bianca had to stretch her shoulder down and cock her wrist to find it, but once she did, it was as if the thing sucked her in. She felt the finger starting to enter (it had the feeling of putting a finger into her mouth with pursed lips, though much more pleasant), and she felt a strong compulsion to push all the way in, until her other knuckles brushed the wet slime surrounding the lips.
Her mouth opened, and she gasped.
There had never been anything like this before. Nothing on her old mermaid body had ever felt so good. Touching her nipples was in the same family of sensations, but seven seas away. This was as if she were touching her very center. It felt deep and personal and private. She seemed suddenly sure it was the pussy’s vulnerability that made it so pleasurable to touch. Bianca being so open and exposed was at the root of her amazing sensations.
She pushed the fingers in and out, exploring. She found that if she bent her fingers in certain ways and hit certain spots inside, she’d be rewarded with particularly intense sensations.
She pulled the fingers out and looked at them. They were slick and wet. Her new pussy seemed to cry out for more attention.
Bianca saw movement in the corner of her eye. She looked up and saw an old human couple walking the beach a dozen feet away. They were staring at her. She smiled and waved with her wet-fingered hand. They both continued to stare, though the man’s eyes were different from the woman’s.
Bianca looked back down, spread her legs wider, and tried to pull up on the lips of her pussy, trying to stretch it and see more. But she could still only see the top. Her lower lips met in a point, making it more like a gash down her middle than a round hole. She could spread the lips to make a sort of hole, but it was much more like a sideways mouth. At the top was a kind of fleshy, foldy place. There was a very small hole there, and a knob of tissue. It didn’t seem to have any purpose.
Bianca touched it and her legs snapped together as if on their own. Her eyes closed. Her abdomen contracted as if she’d been punched, and she curled up into a partial ball. Bianca pulled the finger away and, breathless, looked down.
She wasn’t sure what she’d done, but that must have been the cumming thing she’d heard about. It had been like a shock right up into the crown of her head. But she didn’t want to relax and smile as she’d seen the other women do, so she must have done it wrong. The pressure, if anything, was even more intense. Rather than feeling done, she felt like she just needed to touch herself again.
Well, hell. This wasn’t any better. If all a touch and a cumming did was make you want to touch yourself more, it would be just as bad of torture. Sure, it felt better, but you could never stop. Bianca wasn’t sure if that sounded good.
A pair of men had stopped on the boardwalk and were staring at her. Further down on the beach, a man and a woman had stopped and were also watching. Bianca, wanting to be friendly, waved at all four people. The men on the boardwalk exchanged looks. The couple, after doing the same, held hands and came a few steps closer.
Bianca gave them another friendly nod and returned her attention to her pussy. She put a finger on the bud that had elicited such a reaction the first time and immediately felt the same bolt of sensation, but this time instead of pulling away, she started to rub. It seemed like the right thing to do. There was more under the skin, too, she realized, and if she rubbed the hard part and the little bud so that it pressed into the bone beneath, the sensations became bigger. And bigger. And bigger.
Bianca stopped, her breath now coming hard and fast. Her breasts were heaving, her nipples hard. Everything felt alive. The insides of her legs felt tingly, as did everything below her belly. And that was nice, except that she didn’t know how much she could take. It was all starting to feel very critical. If she kept going, she felt as if she might explode. And since it was a self-perpetuating loop of feeling that became more and more intense with each touch, she was really just making things worse and worse. It would have been hard to stop a few minutes ago, but now it felt almost impossible.
The people were now closer, with more joining them. Bianca didn’t quite understand why these people out for a walk would want to watch her, but she assumed it was because she was new. They were probably wondering who she was and wanted to introduce themselves.
“Hi,” she said, waving to one cluster of people. “I’m Bianca.”
Several of the men began rubbing the area between their own legs.
It seemed a bit rude, the way they were staring, but this was the human world. She’d seen what happened here. Rules were different, and she had to pretend she belonged.
The feeling hadn’t left. Her legs were spread about as wide as she could make them. Her pussy begged her to touch it. But should she dare? It really did feel as if an explosion was imminent. If she kept going, she might just …
Bianca had a sudden idea. She touched herself again. The sensation immediately rose to a fever pitch. She rubbed. Rubbed faster. Feeling reckless, not knowing what she was doing other than that it felt amazing and kept feeling more and more amazing as long as she kept going, Bianca rolled her fingers back and forth faster and faster. The sensation became unbearable. Her legs tensed; her rear lifted up from the sand. Her pussy seemed to want to rise into her fingers. She felt herself nearing eruption. If her hunch was wrong, this was going to be very bad.
But she wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t bad. All of a sudden, everything felt very, very good, all at once and in every part of her. Her muscles clenched, including and especially those in her pussy. She felt it close up, hard. And it was that way for a few seconds, until she collapsed back onto the sand.
Her eyes opened. She felt a smile cross her face.
So that’s cumming.
It was amazing, like nothing she’d ever experienced.
The people around her, strangely, were clapping.
“Thank you!” said Bianca, beaming around at them.
But they didn’t respond. Instead, they sort of began to disperse and walk away.
Bianca felt totally satisfied. For the first time ever, her itch had been scratched. Now she got it — she understood why a woman would welcome that maddening sensation where there had been none.
Follow the need to get richly rewarded.
Bianca wanted to do it again.
But first, she wanted to sleep.