Stupid dumb cunt, Steven Benchley thought. Stupid blonde bimbo harlot from hell.
He crushed the empty lager can, his sixth, and threw it out into the bracken.
Now he was out of fooking beer as well.
What a shite waste of a weekend this camping trip had been. He could have been watching the footie on the telly in the warm and the dry. Instead he'd thought it a good idea to bring Chelle out for the weekend. Have a bit of a frolic in the ferns and all that.
Of course, being the British summer, it was fooking damp and miserable.
Chelle had moaned like buggery from the moment they'd got here. They'd got into a blazing row over nothing. She'd stormed off back to town and he'd stalked off with a six pack of beer. Now it was getting dark as dusk descended and there were spots of rain in the air with threats of more to come.
Now where was the fooking tent?
Benchley headed up the slope of a nearby hill, but still couldn't find his tent in the deepening gloom. There was no way he was going to find the bugger, he thought. It looked like he was going to be stuck out in the open with the rain pissing down on him.
Why hadn't he stayed at home to watch the footie?
Maybe he could find shelter higher up, he thought. There was plenty of bare rock exposed to the elements. Must be an overhang he could shelter under.
He found something even better. Near the top he found the narrow entrance to what seemed like a small cave.
Finally a bit of luck on this shite Saturday, Benchley thought. At least he could get out of the pissing rain. He stood in the entrance and lit a cigarette. He wished he had another beer.
The rain shower didn't last long and eventually the moon appeared, silvery and full, out of the night sky. It was then Benchley noticed the blue glow emanating from the cave behind him. Curious he headed deeper inside.
It turned out the cave wasn't quite a full cave. Erosion had taken its toll and worn a natural chimney hole into the ceiling. Through it the moon was clearly visible in the night sky. The glow, a light blue fluorescence, came from the cave walls. This glow was reflected in a deep blue pool that took up most of the cave floor. It was quite a pretty little grotto, Benchley thought. If Chelle managed to cool down enough he'd bring her back here tomorrow. If he could fooking remember where it was.
It would give him shelter tonight anyway. He could find that bastard tent in the morning when the sun was up.
Benchley needed a piss. All those lagers had finally hit his bladder.
At least there was a convenient place, Benchley thought. He wondered how deep the pool was. It looked like a natural well. Better be careful, he thought as he walked up to the edge, would really top his fooking day if he fooking fell in.
He unzipped his fly and had gripped his member in his hand when he noticed a small wooden sign on the wall.
"No pissing. Natural spring."
"Sorry mate," Benchley chatted to the sign. "When a man's gotta go, he's gotta go."
He gave a satisfied grunt as his dick released a solid stream of piss into the pool.
Natural spring. Did that mean this pool was one of those places they bottled all that shite spring water? Well this one was getting a bit of extra flavouring, a little bit of l'eau de Benchley. The thought of all those poncey city types drinking his piss out of a bottle amused Benchley greatly. Served them right for not drinking from a tap like every bugger else.
The stream subsided and Bentley felt the pressure in his bladder lesson. Felt damn good. It wouldn't last too long though. That was the trouble with lager; you spent most of the night pissing it up a wall.
Oh well, more flavouring for the bottled water, Benchley smiled. He did his fly up and had just turned away when he heard someone giggle behind him.
"That tastes nice," a voice tinkled.
There was a loud splash and before Benchley could react something had gripped him from behind and thrown him backwards into the pool.
What the fook?
The pool had gone from placid stillness to a maelstrom of motion in the blink of an eye. Benchley was churned around right at its heart. His world became a disorientating blur of bubbles and lashing water. Water flooded his mouth and nostrils. He hadn't had a chance to hold his breath before he'd been dragged into the pool and now he could feel a burning sensation as his lungs craved air. He panicked as he realised he didn't even know where the surface was as currents span him over and over.
There was someone in here with him. He couldn't see them, but he felt hands grab at his clothes, tugging them from his body.
Benchley thrashed wildly around him, trying to drive his mystery assailant off. His limbs connected with nothing. He swore he heard a silvery laughter.
I'm going to drown in this pissing pool, Benchley thought with alarm. What a fooking embarrassment.
Then, just as the world started to go black, his body was propelled out of the water and back to the edge of the pool. Coughing, Benchley lay on his side and retched out the water that had got caught in his throat before grabbing great gulps of life-giving air.
Then he noticed something odd about the surface he was lying on. It wasn't hard or rocky. Instead it felt soft and yielded a little to his touch, like rubber or elastic. Or jelly. Still coughing, Benchley tried to get to his feet only to feel the floor lurch and sway unsteadily beneath him. Whatever the surface was, it was also covered in a small layer of water and very slippery. Amidst the swaying motion Benchley immediately lost his balance and tumbled onto his back. Beneath him the floor rocked and swayed before eventually settling into stillness.
The motion was actually strangely relaxing. Benchley wondered if this was what a waterbed felt like.
A waterbed seemed about right, Benchley realised. As impossible as it was he was lying right on top of the centre of the pool. Not sinking in, but actually lying on top of the surface. How was it possible? He wasn't Jesus Fooking Christ. He couldn't walk on water. There was no way he should be just floating here.
Something had changed the water beneath him, turned it into some form of weird translucent jelly.
He heard a girlish giggle from the far end of the pool. Awkwardly propping himself up on his elbows Benchley was greeted by yet another bizarre sight.
A young woman sat on a rock. No, not a young woman, it was a fooking mermaid. A fooking mermaid — the sway of her hips ran into a single long, finned tail — made out of water. Benchley could actually see through her. Well almost. She was translucent and her body seemed to glow and sparkle with the same blue light as the rest of the cave. Her slim body was completely naked and a pair of full breasts bobbed in the night air.
Like jelly, Benchley thought. Not liquid, but not fully solid either. Just like the rest of her body.
Hair, if it could be called that as it was made of the same substance as the rest of her body, cascaded around her slender shoulders in shimmering waves. Dark blue eyes, the only thing about her that was truly opaque, watched Benchley with amused interest. Her gaze disconcerted Benchley a little, there seemed to be something predatory in the way she looked at him.
His unease increased when he realised he was completely naked. While he'd been under the surface something — probably the girl — had stripped him of all his clothes.
"Comfortable?" the girl asked. Her voice tinkled like delicate music.
Smiling, she leaned forward and in one smooth motion dived under the surface of the pool. This was the same pool that currently supported Benchley's body in defiance of the usual natural order.
She was an unsettling mix of complete gorgeousness and alien weirdness. Benchley wasn't sure he wanted to come into contact with her gelid body. He imagined her touch as icy cold and unpleasantly slimy. He panicked as she approached and began to flail out blindly with his limbs. He swore he'd hit her as she rose up beside him, but his foot only connected with a spray of insubstantial water.
He tried to get to his feet only to slip over again as the slick floor undulated beneath him. Unable to stand up, Benchley continued to thrash blindly around him, not wanting the girl to come anywhere near his naked form.
Beneath him the surface of the pool swayed and rocked with his violent motions. Benchley flailed for a while longer until he realised the mermaid, water girl, whatever she was, was nowhere near him.
She was a little way from him. Her body was both half out of the pool and leaning on its surface. Benchley couldn't understand how the water could be both liquid and solid to her at the same time. She was in the water, but her breasts were also lying on top of it. They jiggled as the tremors from Benchley's thrashing ran across the surface.
"You'd enjoy this a lot more if you'd let me touch you," the water girl scolded, her dainty face bossy girl cross.
"Uh," Benchley said. The only thing that made sense to him was that he'd tripped up and banged his head while running around in the dark outside and was dreaming the whole thing.
What the fook, it wasn't as if he was going anywhere anyway. He couldn't even stand up. He stopped thrashing and felt the motions of the jellified pool subside.
"What do you want?" he asked.
The girl smiled and licked her lips with a slender little tongue. Benchley couldn't be totally sure, but he thought she might have glanced at his exposed cock.
"Relax," she purred. "Let me pleasure you."
.... There is more of this story ...