Hellacious Hospitality Ch. 03

"If it suits this one's needs better, one shall comply." Her lips did not move as she spoke, the sound still resonating in his head. "It is one's pleasure to make this one's acquaintance, one who is called 'Benson Lachlann'. One may be called 'Iara'. It is a name One has been granted by the humans in the past, with which One was referred with great reverence. While One still does not fully understand the practice, One still recalls the memory fondly and thus will accept its use. Does One assume correctly that these terms are agreeable?"

He was still having difficulties keeping up with her peculiar form of speech, but she seemed to be making an effort for him, which was a promising sign. It meant that he hadn't somehow insulted her. "I'm really sorry that I can't talk to you in the way that you're most comfortable with. I wouldn't mind trying to learn, if that's at all possible. But for now, thanks Iara. And again, please, it's just Benson."

"Very well, Benson," she said his name slowly and deliberately, making the effort to commit the sentiment to memory. "Is one correct in understanding that this is still the common human form for commemorating an introduction?" She extended a slender hand towards him. They possessed distinctively pronounced webs, but otherwise the features were muted. She had no nails, or even claws -- the digits just smoothly tapered. He extended his own hand to meet hers. He was surprised to find her touch the exact same temperature as the water surrounding him, and just as slippery. It was like trying to grasp the water itself.

There had only been contact for a brief moment, before she slipped her hand free of his hold and spontaneously launched herself backward, her resonant laughter ringing in his head again. He caught only a small glimpse of a wide, cheery grin before her face became obscured by her wild tangle of deep green hair, as she deftly dove beneath the water's surface. Somehow, she managed the act without making a single splash.

It was only in that brief flash of movement that Benson realized that she had been completely and totally naked throughout that entire interaction. But then, he noted with some embarrassment, so was he. It's not like it was inappropriate, given the venue. It was simply not a normal thing, to be making a new acquaintance sans clothes. He idly realized that the towel was no longer around his neck. He spotted it atop the wall behind him, still dry. He wondered when that had got there. Had Iara lifted it from his shoulders when he sank into the pool? Thoughtful, if that was the case.

He watched with intense fascination as her lithe form tumbled and corkscrewed, rollicking beneath the pool's shimmering ripples. Occasionally, she would launch herself like a dolphin, sailing majestically through the air before slipping almost noiselessly back into the water's depths yet again. There was a strange casualness to her aquatic dance. Even during the most nimble of her acrobatic maneuvers, her body seemed to merely drift along, as if in a state of perpetual slow motion, if only just slightly. It wasn't glaringly obvious, but he had swam in a pool before, and seen footage of enough Olympic-level diving events to know instinctively that something felt off about her pace.

It was only upon performing a particularly high leap, followed by a somersault into a graceful swan-dive that Benson saw it. As she rocketed from the water, a great plume of water erupted alongside her, as one might expect. But as she crossed the apex of her jump, and entered free-fall, he watched the water at her trajectory reach up, as if to pluck her from the air, her entry splash happening before she contacted the surface.

At no point in her arc did it ever seem like her body physically lost contact with the water.

"Iara, do you mind if I ask? The way you move. The water... can you control --" Benson gestured wide, to signify the entirety of the seeming infinite expanse of water that stretched out before him, "-- all of this?". He resisted the instinct to shout, as she had managed to swim quite some distance away from him. He wondered if her particular method of communication worked both ways.

Her head emerged from the water again, and cocked sideways slightly in his direction, as if to answer his unvoiced question. "Oho! One was informed that Benson would have inquiries". There was a hint of slyness in her voice, an edge to her laughter. He became alarmed when the distant figure became transparent, and then suddenly dissolved into the water with a splash.

Without thinking, he leapt up in shock. She was just gone. Unlike her earlier antics, there was no sign of her lean body or tangled mass of hair frolicking in the water's depths.

"Iara? Iara! What happened? Are you alright?" He cried out, in a sudden panic. His memories flashed back to his encounter with Syl, and how she, too, had recoiled and vanished for a brief period of time, intimidated by the strange man that had intruded into her room. But Iara didn't seem the skittish type, and the void caused by her sudden disappearance was worrying.

He waded deeper into the pool, rushing as he could in the direction where she had last been. He stretched out his shoulders, preparing to launch into a full-blown swim, when he felt something sharply tap him on the shoulder, from behind. He whirled around to catch the perpetrator, and found only empty air.

"Who's there? What's going on?"

Resonant laughter echoed in his ears again, with the distinct underlying patter that reminded him of a babbling brook. He felt a damp hand reach over his shoulder again, but this time, with a softer touch, gently stroking under his collar, and drawing his attention around again.

He twisted around more calmly this time around, and she did not evade him. Iara stood serenely before him, her lips curled into a playful smile.

The feeling of relief washed over him. "Goddammit Iara, what was that all about? You scared me half to death!" He had more to say, but the world suddenly tipped out from under him, and he felt himself tumbling backwards. Amid the blur of his surroundings falling away, Iara's slender form stood over him, arm stiffly outstretched, having pushed him squarely in the chest. The last thing he saw before the water threw itself up around him in a great big splash was her body dissolving once again.

It all happened so fast, he didn't have the presence of mind to hold his breath as he felt his body begin to submerge. He could only close his eyes as he anticipated the sudden whelm of water to overcome him. But then nothing. The surging rush of water rained back down, and he felt his neck and head resting gently on the water's surface. He felt hands cradling his head, thumbs reaching up to delicately stroke his cheeks.

Eyes fluttered open again, to see a blank watery visage gazing back at him, unrestrained, joyous laughter ringing throughout his body. More water flowed impossibly upwards, adding to its structure, defining its expressions, fanning outwards to form a great transparent mane. Color began to bloom along the features, and she appeared solid once again.

The capricious creature had caught him so unawares that he didn't fully know how to react anymore. He wasn't sure if he was relieved she was alright, angry at being played by her terrible prank, or simply awed by her mercurial nature. In the end, he just laughed, caught up in her jocundity, letting the heavier emotions wash away in the relaxing heat of the bath. "What are you?"

She smiled at his reaction, loosening her hold on him and gently bringing him to float atop the water. Her own body rose up over him, until she was standing impossibly on its surface.

"The Greeks call One's kind 'Nereid' or 'Naiad', although it has been a great many generations since One has had presence in that land.. It is the people of what is now known as South America that granted One the name 'Iara'. One has heard tell of those who practice the art of alchemy who use the word 'undine'. One has no particular preference or objection to any such title. One simply exists as one always has, a soul bound by water. One's being is only as you see before you, but all that is here is a medium through which One may present Oneself. One is bound to this place, but as Benson can see, One has been granted great liberty to create for Oneself a vast territory." She gestured widely, beaming with pride.

She spoke of ancient civilizations and cultures as if she had lived them, and the staggering scope of that revelation sent his mind reeling. He wondered if her odd speech pattern was related, if perhaps she hadn't fully adapted to the modern age.

"Wow!" was the only response he could muster, dumbly, before gathering his thoughts somewhat more cohesively. He chose to keep his eyes focused on Iara as she was now. Living in the present was so much simpler.

As she explained this to him, she never stopped moving. Instead of swimming, she now danced along blithely. There was no real sense of routine or rhythm to her movements. Just an incessant expression of exuberant energy. Alternately skipping, prancing, or pirouetting around, she just gracefully flowed, chaining one motion into the next as the mood caught her.

Her motions were mesmeric. He couldn't help but be captivated by her lithe, athletic form, much like a swimmer's body. There was some definition in her muscles, but overall, her physique was soft, and sleek, and she seemed to be proudly showing it off to him.

Benson moved his arms in wide sweeping strokes, propelling himself back towards the benched wall. Still somewhat fatigued, he was wasting energy treading water in the open depths of the pool. Iara followed him tentatively once she noticed, still striding above the ripples. A mixed expression of curiosity and concern crossed her face.

"Does Benson find One's form unattractive?" She asked, with sad eyes.

That question caught him off-guard, and only drew more attention to the nakedness of the figure standing before him. While it was more her graceful, sinuous movement that he studied earlier, it was the sensual curves of her body that had his complete attention now. She crossed her arms defensively, but that resulted in pushing up her lusciously rounded, medium-sized breasts. Notably, the tender orbs had no nipples to cap them. Slender but powerful-looking thighs parted at the hips, revealing a perfectly smooth crotch, her pubic mound showing no trace of the cleft of a vagina. Similarly, no navel adorned her slick, flat abdomen. As with the hand that he had held briefly earlier, her body seemed formed only in the facsimile of a woman. But that did nothing to lessen her attractiveness.

Her form, as she presented herself, was otherwise a vision of feminine sexual appeal. Rather than the things she lacked, his sight was drawn to a number of other unique features that served to enhance her beauty. Fine silvery filigree lines in delicate, looping, spiraling wave patterns seemed to shift across her body, creating motion that drew the eye even as she stood relatively still. Even appearing in her colored, "solid" form, she still retained a slight translucency. The soft, heavenly lighting of the room shone through her form, making her look positively radiant.

He looked again to the pained expression in her eyes. The intensity of the emotion they conveyed was striking. In simply conversing, her frozen face, with unblinking eyes and unmoving lips was like a mask, and should have been creepy and unsettling. But she was most definitely not expressionless, and the largeness of her eyes broadcast her moods clear as day. For all her intensely inhuman aspects, the most immediate effect of her presence, he found, was a calming one instead.

That emotional earnestness was not something he could ever betray. He had felt similar feelings towards Caeli. He noted with wry irony how easy he was finding it, getting along with these remarkable, otherworldly women, more so than he had ever felt amongst other humans.

"No, Iara, you're beautiful. Please don't think I was trying to get away from you. I'm just tired. Let me just sit here. I'm more than happy to watch you, if that's what you'd like."

If it weren't for his recently-formed loyalty to Caeli (and the resultant physical exhaustion), Benson had little doubt that he would have tackled Iara in a loving embrace right then and there to allay her doubts. Instead, he felt it necessary to restrain himself from acting rashly, to avoid becoming a source of drama between the two women.

She paused in contemplation, but her eyes were gleaming once again. Her posture relaxed, and adopted one of more coquettish charm, instead. "One apologizes for the misunderstanding. It is easy for One to forget of the weariness of the flesh, as One is not bound by such constraints. One has not dealt with the humans in quite some time. And now that this one has been presented by the Keeper, One has become most curious."

"Well, if you've got questions, go ahead. Caeli had some of her own, and I guess I'm the stranger here, so it's only natural. So shoot."

"That is not what One had in mind. One is curious as to the qualities Benson holds to have so thoroughly enthralled the Keeper. This one is truly privileged to have received her affection so readily. That is not a gift to be taken lightly. Especially now, not for one of her station and responsibility. And yet, One can taste her profound deliciousness that has so thoroughly permeated this one's essence."

"Oh..." The sexual hunger in her eyes was clear as day, assaulting his willpower. There was an intensity there that could have charmed the pants off a eunuch. There was no hope for him, an ordinary man with a newly-overcharged libido and a recently-acquired taste for bewitching women. The thought that Iara had just put in his head, of two of the most gorgeous beauties he'd had the pleasure of meeting having shared a personal moment together wasn't helping, either. His cock twitched, but was unfortunately unable to do more.

She quickly knelt down before him, her face mere inches from his own, and she tenderly cupped his chin, and stared lustfully into his eyes.

"....But, Caeli..." He protested, weakly. He had no effective means to resist the willful woman. "And besides, she already drained me. There's no way I can perform for you, even if you make such an offer..." was his last resort.

"Fret not the Keeper's judgment. It is upon her invitation that One makes this offer in the first-most. As to Benson's secondary concerns, they are moot in One's presence. Water is life-blood, and will thus provide." There was a measured cadence to her voice. Unlike Caeli, who knew how to draw out certain words and innuendo to maximum teasing effect, Iara's appeal was entirely matter-of-fact. Coy games were apparently not her style. Despite her somewhat labyrinthine manner of speech, she was blunt and direct in communicating her desires.

Her desirous glare did not waver, but through his own eyes, she could see the remaining bulwark of his resolve collapse, turning to hunger itself.

She thrust herself onto him, lips pressing into his forcefully. Benson's eyes flared wide in surprise, even as hers closed, lost in the moment. This was his first kiss with a demi. Even Caeli, as much love and passion had she showered him with, had not yet crossed that intimate boundary. Syl had actively avoided the act. By contrast, Iara's attitudes were decidedly more nonchalant. She seemed blissfully unconcerned with prickly social mores, and did as she pleased.

However, it was not a sexually-charged, passionate sort of kiss, the type where lips smacked and suckled, and tongues entwined. Instead, the loving and nurturing aspect of her personality that he had first perceived was felt. Just the singular motion of lips meeting each other. She exhaled through throws lips, breathing a vitality into his lungs that spread through his body, rejuvenated his aching muscles. Where the warmth of the water merely relaxed the pains, her kiss of life actively revived them.

That same invigorating power flowed to his loins, and his impotent member stirred to life once more under her vivifying effects.

She broke the kiss, and he could see the lustful smile that crept upon her face, through her deep, soulful eyes. She tenderly caressed his face, her forehead gently pressed against his.

Her body weight sank, no longer kneeling atop the water, but allowing her form to rest atop his. There was no pretext for foreplay. She immediately sank her hips onto his. Despite the lack of the visible anatomy, her nether regions nevertheless parted to fully encompass his now fully-revived erection. He found himself unable to move from that spot, pinned in place by seemingly her strength of will alone.

The sensation was strange for Benson, because there seemed nothing particular to delineate where the water stopped, and where Iara's body began. Her body was formed of the self-same water of the heated bath, and from a purely logical standpoint, there was no real difference.

But the reality was somewhat different. Where her body pressed into his, there was a delightful tingling sensation against his skin. A certain underlying warmth independent of the water's heat, more spiritual than physical. It was similar to how it had been with Syl, except where he had to adapt to the specter's icy prickliness, Iara's embrace was more immediately comforting and accommodating. Sex with Syl was dramatic -- sharp peaks and steep valleys. With Iara, it was as soothing as lolling ocean waves.

Not to say that intercourse with his watery host was boring or unpleasurable. Quite the opposite. Iara seemed adept at finding every single knotted and twisted nerve ending in his wearied body, and massaging those pressure points into submission. He felt his body becoming as clay under her expert fingertips. But not the same structureless, rough-hewn substance that he imagined himself as upon waking, all lumpy and battered. Instead, a finely kneaded medium, befitting a master sculptor.

His mind assigned the word "fingertips" to her touch because that was the closest frame of reference it could find, but the reality was that she was so much more. He suspected that she held onto her overt, humanoid form purely for his benefit, so as to have something visually appealing to focus on, and form an emotional connection with. While her body calmly and firmly bobbed up and down on his rigid shaft, the pleasurable sensations surrounded the entirety of his body, from all angles. The act she performed wasn't just sex, but also full-body physical therapy.

She massaged out all the creaks and cracks in his tired body. Most caused by the previous night, but also many that he never really realized were there until they felt miraculously better. He felt as though pounds worth of burdens were being lifted from his body, and that he was floating, in more ways than one. Benson had never before felt like he could orgasm from his entire body. He'd never really known himself to have any extraneous erogenous zones or kinks in that manner. But Iara's complete and total dominance over all of his bundled nerves at once proved to be the exception to that, and she played his body like a piano. Despite the leisurely, unhurried way her physical body performed for him, that was a mere illusion, and her true technique would have him finished off in short order.

He felt badly in this situation, because it was clear in her efforts that she truly wanted him to feel good. Her aim wasn't just in a lustful quickie. There was a deeper meaning there. She had said it herself. She wanted to sample what it was that he had offered to Caeli, her "Keeper". So this didn't seem quite right. Iara was also testing him, but she was doing all the work.