The Little Mermaid

You suddenly find yourself gasping for air, surrounded by deep ocean, fathoms below the surface. You try and swim upwards, to follow the air bubbles coming from your mouth, but find that your wrists and ankles are strapped down, and your struggling's just causing you to use up more oxygen.

You try and remain calm and conserve your remaining air, but the fact you're about to drown makes that easier said than done, and you find your lungs filling with salty seawater as you futilely struggle one last time, knowing that you'll soon be consigned to a watery grave.

And that's when you see her, a flame-haired beauty, speeding up to you, her lips locking onto yours, breathing oxygen once again into your lungs. As you begin to lose yourself in her kiss, she just as suddenly pulls away, and you see her properly and instantly recognize her. It's Ariel, the Little Mermaid, but the cartoon never compared to this. You think that it certainly is hotter under the water, and wonder how many wonders her cavern can hold, as your eyes take in her curves, and {if@ Male==true}your cock grows hard{else}you find yourself getting even more moist{endif}. And then there's that sweet smile of hers, but as you look at it some more, you realize it isn't that sweet, more sadistic.

"I've saved you," she says, "because you're from that world up above. I've got a collection of stuff from there, and I've been dying to use it. We can play with it together." Her hand caresses your face, as you see air bubbles rising from your nose. "Don't worry, " she reassures you, "I'll breathe air into you whenever you run out.. at least until I get bored with you."

You'd respond, but you can't risk opening your mouth, and so you listen to her as she continues, telling you how she won't get bored for a while, how she has so many toys she wants to try out. As you hold your breath, she suddenly starts singing a song with a familiar tune, telling you all about her neat stuff, her gadgets and gizmos aplenty. As you look at them, you start to get nervous, seeing all the racks and whips and thumbscrews. You watch as she lovingly picks up various instruments of ****, before finally settling on a whip.

As your lungs burn, half of you hopes she'll soon finish her interminable song, and half of you worries what she'll do to you when she reaches that end.

To half of your relief, her song comes to an end, as she sings the final line, informing you that, from now on, you'll be part of her world.