Fertilization

Like clockwork, the cycle began once the first signs of warm weather came. Cyrus felt the stirrings beginning at the base of his tail, the tell-tale pressure that pushed him to find a mate to fertilize his eggs. It told him to swim toward land, where the largest shoals of fish would congregate to feed him and his inevitable young. This took days, though. Exhausting days full of swimming and little else. The whole time he swam, his body effortlessly produced eggs. Not all of them would grow but it didn't stop his belly from swelling until his tail and abdomen looked as round as a goldfish.

The night he finally reached the shoals, he was near ready to let the waves carry him away. His opening had swollen until it was puffy and dripping with fluid that drifted off into the water behind him. Each push of his tail rubbed his sensitive walls together and drove him crazy. He couldn't touch himself, though. Instinct kept him going and kept his hands off his sensitive flesh until he could lay his eggs.

Already, hundreds of others had come to hunt and breed among the rocks. He gave himself a few rubs to hopefully attract another male to swim down with him, then dove for his familiar resting spot. He eyed a few larger mermen who seemed to have caught his scent and followed eagerly. Before any of them could get to him, though, he slipped between the rocks and barred passage with his body. The message was received well enough. They would need to fight for him.

Not all layers forced potential mates to fight. Some would roll over and let anyone bully their egg sacs open to fertilize them, others chose based on whatever basis they felt like that season. Cyrus preferred to watch males fight over him.

There were three that had followed him down to the opening: a shiny silver male, smaller than the rest and clearly younger; a red male with yellow speckling all down his tail who was slow, but clearly strong; and last but not least, a blue male who had already begun to go after his competition. This would be fun. He turned his pelvis to present his swollen hole as an incentive and gave it a few strokes with his fingers to relieve himself.

While he lay in wait, the fight began. The blue and red mermen had begun to exchange bites but the silver one was smarter. He dodged the blows of his competitors while dashing in and out to tear into their fins. It was only when he razed the gills of one of the other males that they took notice of his strategy. Blue shoved him down into the sand and started to scrabble at his throat while he thrashed. The water clouded temporarily, giving Cyrus little more than flashes of color. He saw red, blue, and then there was gold in the water as blood was properly drawn. He grinned.

The larger males came out wrestling again, having caught each other in the chaos. His young suitor took his chance, then. He swam up while his competition was suitably distracted and tried to nuzzle up against Cyrus's jaw. Gold blossomed up from a bite on his cheek. He considered this for a moment, then nuzzled back.

Strength was important but knowing when to use a fight to one's advantage was even more important. He led a scaled hand down to his lips, which parted easily for the fingers that slid between them. Over his chosen mate's shoulder, he saw the other males stop fighting once they realized what had happened and begin to advance, then fall away. They had lost this time and would need to find another layer.

"Come," he ordered. He slipped down between the rocks a moment later, following the familiar passageways to where he spawned. His mate stuck close to his side like a persistent kelp leaf. His claws dug into Cyrus' sides and he rubbed up against his backside eagerly, as if he couldn't wait to be inside him a moment longer.

When they reached the soft sandy floor of the chamber, Cyrus let himself fall into it. The silver male followed, nosing at his body and rolling him over to present his swollen vent. His own had the tip of a golden member peeking out. Their bodies slotted together easily, openings pressing against each other. He moaned as his mate entered him and began to search out his eggs. He would need to break through the film encasing them first, something that most males failed to do their first time.

Cyrus helped him along, though. He felt the length inside of him twist around, pressing against his walls until it met spongy resistance. He pushed up as his mate pushed down eagerly. He could see the way the male's eyes dilated, gills flaring as he neared his goal. The tip of his member stabbed and pushed until finally reaching the sac where his eggs resided. He managed a few more overeager thrusts before he pulled out. Already, he was dribbling sperm from his slit. He panted and nuzzled closer.

"You're close," he sighed encouragingly.

That spurred the male on. He slid in once more, driving Cyrus's pleasure ever-higher as his sensitive vent was stimulated. He clawed at his shoulders, feeling the pressure, then penetration as his eggs were reached again. Sharp teeth bit into the sensitive flesh of his throat, holding him there as his mate attempted to thrust into him. Each time, his tip just barely pressed into the filmy covering.

Cyrus almost began to wonder if he would be long enough to reach, then there was a sudden change in pressure in his insides and he squealed. His vent clamped down as he orgasmed with a surge of fluid. His mate pulled out once his muscles relaxed and let him roll over. He placed two fingers on either side of Cyrus' hole and stroked and rubbed at it until eggs began to spill out. Thousands of little eggs filled up the divot his body had left in the sand. He keened as his mate kept up the stimulation on his vent. His tail thrashed back and forth until he came again with another gush and a burst of eggs. The sac emptied in a matter of minutes. His mate gave him another nip and moved him out of the way to get access to them. He held himself over the clutch and his member twitched, writhing over itself before a cloud of white filled the water over them.

Cyrus slid two fingers into himself as he watched the silver merman fertilize his eggs. His face was screwed up in pleasure as his body found release. His length gave a few final spurts before he left the eggs to return to their layer.

He greeted his mate eagerly and pulled him close. It wasn't uncommon for pairs to pleasure each other, usually to the biological benefit of both of them. Cyrus let his mate press inside again and slot their bodies together. They both groaned as their oversensitive sexes slid against each other, slick from their combined fluids. There were some apologetic kisses pressed to the wound on his neck as he was used as a means to produce more cum. His mate rutted into him roughly until he shuddered and squeezed down tight on his member.

They rubbed against each other hungrily, instinct pushing their coupling onward. The male pulled out after a few minutes of rutting and positioned himself over the clutch. Cyrus followed him and wrapped his hand around the throbbing member that had been inside of him moments earlier. That spurred him on further and he grunted as he released another load over their eggs.

This continued several more times until Cyrus was too exhausted and curled up next to their clutch. He nipped less-than-playfully at the male whenever he tried to go again until he had to hiss at him to go find food and he was left alone. No other males would try to enter without his permission and he had no intention of letting anyone else touch his eggs.

The male came back with several fish and after eating them, Cyrus promptly passed out. He could feel the press of an eager member against his back as consciousness slipped from his grip, but there was no attempt to roll him over and use his hole again. He coiled protectively around the eggs he had laid as he slept, his mate with him to watch over them.