Seduced by a Siren

Under a sapphire-blue sky, the arc of the sandy beach draws itself out before me, as if forever. The Sun, out over the ocean, is barely above the horizon yet, and has the sky all to itself, for now. I like to walk here at sunrise, whilst the golden sand is still like a freshly made bed beneath my feet, and before the tourists arrive and swarm over everything like ants. The solitude gives me time to collect my thoughts. Besides, even though it is a windless calm now, a storm is forecast for later.

In the distance, a shimmering figure approaches. Drawing closer, this figure coalesces into a woman walking directly towards me. Streaming little footprints behind her in witness to her passage, she has long raven-black hair and a lean athletic build like a female soccer player. She looks about a decade older than me and is wearing a sleek high-cut swimsuit in navy blue, which contrasts with her almond-milk skin. Unused to company, I now feel a little underdressed in just my trunks.

Stepping into my path, she plants her bare feet down hard onto the sand. Placing pale hands onto thighs as well-muscled as a racehorse, she lowers her head before flicking it back with panache; her long glossy hair arcs over her shoulders before it cascades down her supple back like black rose petals tumbling down a satin sheet.

Standing up straight with hands positioned on hips where the cut of her swimsuit guards her further mysteries, there is the hint of a smile on an ethereal face. Her blue eyes languidly appraise me. When she looks up to meet my gaze it is like seeing daybreak over the open ocean.

"That's quite an exhibit you have there", she said, her voice melodious.

"W-w-what?"

"That big thing between your legs, of course."

I squirm like an awkward teenager.

Her lips, delicate like an orchid, curl into a little grin. "Don't blush. I'm very impressed." She steps towards me quickly, planting her feet firmly down again, her little toes coated in grains of sand. Using both index fingers, she gently prods me through the fabric of my trunks. "We should talk about your big balls", she said matter-of-factly.

Shocked, I open my mouth as if to remonstrate, but she moves to my side as gracefully as a gymnast and takes my hand, whilst her eyes, as big as full Moons, disarm me of any anger. Looking into those ocean-blue eyes, for a moment, I forget to breathe.

Her brow furrows with concern. "I know how vulnerable they are," her hand gestures towards my loins, "even big ones like yours."

The underside of my package receives a gentle flick as if it were a puppy being disciplined. I let out a whimper and instinctively pull myself back.

"Yes, they are sensitive," she said.

Hands as soft as linen take hold of my hips coaxing me back towards her. Her eyes are as persuasive as the strongest currents.

Folding aerobicized arms neatly under the mysteries of her breasts, she glances down at my loins. "I could squeeze them so hard." Moving to my side, her body is as warm as a tropical sea as it brushes against me. "I'd have you crying like a baby."

I know she's right.

Nostrils flaring, she thrusts her head and shoulders back and declares, "No man's balls can stand a good squeeze from a woman," taking hold of my hand again, her touch as gentle as a summer's breeze, her voice softens, "but I don't want to hurt your balls." Lips curling into a lopsided grin she looks down at my loins. "I have better uses for a big package like yours, but there are women around here who just want to hurt men like you."

Circling me now, her feet leaving a mandala of little footprints in the sand, she traces her index finger along the seam of my trunks as if marking her territory. "They know exactly how to hurt a man," she said, her voice trailing off as she turns her gaze out to sea.

Hooking little fingers into the top of my trunks, her nails raking against me like little silver daggers, she pulls them open an inch. With her mouth forming into a half-smile, she leans forward and glances inside my trunks for a split second before letting them snap closed. Stepping back and laughing to herself, she playfully taps me on the nose with a finger. It is like being embraced.

She looks back into my eyes. "They often comb this beach looking for a man's balls to hurt."

I shudder as her nails brush my inner thighs like little shards of glass as with a cupped hand, firm in its manner, she takes my whole package into her custody. At the same time, she places her other hand onto the small of my back securing my compliance. I whimper as a gentle squeeze, as if testing the ripeness of a peach, is applied to my organs.

Releasing me, she gazes out to sea as if searching for both something and nothing. Her fingers caress my arm like warm rain. "I can save both your balls from these women, but I want something." Her fingers now trace a serpentine path on my arm, she meets my gaze again with eyes like whirlpools drawing me in.

"What?"

Stifling a smile, she gestures down. "I want what's inside your trunks, of course."

I gulp.

"In return, I'll keep your two balls safe within my hands. No woman will hurt your balls when they're under my care."

As if sensing my hesitancy, she moves even closer. I notice the many hundreds of freckles that decorate her arms and upper body like inverted stars on a milky canvas. Through my trunks, her finger finds the very head of my manhood. I whimper. Her finger remains. "I'd bet you're uncircumcised," she whispers into my ear.

Looking into her knowing eyes, I am as helpless as if lashed to a mast. Her insistent finger begins to tease me; its rhythm is like the waves gentling lapping at the shore. In response, I swell urgently with each heartbeat. It is as if irresistible currents are bearing me out to sea. Having now incited my flesh, she steps back, her mouth formed into a satisfied smile, her eyes casting over me like a net.

Words are not forthcoming as if they are tumbling down a cliff before me, but my eyes and my loins beseech her. She smiles knowingly and says nothing.

Stepping back from me now and taking her time as if the day itself belonged to her, she gathers her long hair up, each glossy strand like fine silk as it runs through her hands. Closing her eyes, and with a serene smile, she tosses her head back like a preening mare, her raven-black hair cascading down her lithe back like a waterfall on a Moonless night. I softly whimper in awe of her, but it is barely audible above the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore.

Ready, she kneels before me in the soft sand, her head level with my loins. Her hands grip either side of my trunks as if getting ready to unwrap an expensive gift.

I glance around for a moment searching for what I know not. Someone to stop her? To stop me? An excuse? A reason? I know this is not quite right but I want it anyway. My eyes settle on the horizon; where the sea and the sky are bound together, and where all things seem to begin and end. I let out a deep sigh. She hears me; all tension leaves my body. Like a breached dam, I can offer no resistance.

"Good," she said, like a patient schoolmistress. "So, here we go."

With a slow cadence, as if prolonging the anticipation, she begins to reveal me an inch at a time as inexorably as the tide going out. She keeps her eyes on me, but her freckled face gives nothing away. Against my soft skin, I can feel her breathing becoming more frequent, as if in sympathy with my ordeal. Straining against my trunks, I whimper with relief, as I finally spring free coming to rest at an acute angle, pointing up at the sapphire-blue sky, as if rejoicing in my own liberation.

With the side of her mouth, she takes a moment to blow back into place a few stray strands of her silky hair, before meeting my gaze, her eyes burning like two blue flames. My secrets belong to her now.

"I hope that wasn't too uncomfortable for you?"

As I pliantly step out of my empty trunks for her, I feel as if reborn. It feels so strange, yet so exciting, to be exposed before a woman like this; everything has been stripped away but the truth. My arms hang loosely at my sides.

She reaches out and places two hands firmly on my glutes holding me exactly where she wants me. Nails as sharp as talons rest lightly on my bare skin encouraging me to be as perfectly still as a toy soldier. She leisurely scrutinises, checks and studies every inch and facet of my erection. Her hands steer my hips for her convenience; coaxing me to present to her all aspects of myself.

"It's all I hoped for." She takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring. "I'm going to touch it now."

She pauses for a moment and closes her eyes. Her lips move silently as if casting a secret incantation. She opens her eyes again, takes a deep breath, and clasps me with hands as soft as lamb's wool. Her hands methodically work their way up and down testing the firmness of all my aspects.

"It feels so nice," she said, her voice breathy, "like velvet over steel." Her eyes, like two beacons guiding me to where I know not, look up at me. "I'm going to slide you all the way back now." With both hands, she holds me as if preparing to release a dove. "Let me know if this is uncomfortable for you, I know it can be." I feel her soft breath and the warmth from her face against my baby-soft skin as she fully reveals me. "There we go," she said, at last, as she learns my final mystery. "It's very beautiful." Her fingers explore every lump, bump and ridge in sympathy with my breathing. "You're doing very well, I'm very pleased."

Closing her eyes, she cradles my erection against her face as if it were the most priceless sceptre; her dewy cheek resting against my soft skin. She seems lost in the moment, her eyes closed, as if in a trace. Almost whispering now, she said, "You really are a good boy, aren't you? You know you're my special boy, you know you are. I could worship this big thing forever..."

Although confused by the change in her demeanour, despite myself, my swelling redoubles; it almost hurts, and I find myself gazing up at the Heavens with tears forming in my eyes. After some time, I am not sure how long, it could have been ten seconds or ten minutes, she breaks the spell, lets out a deep sigh, and collects herself.

"I think we both lost ourselves there for a moment like it was a dream. I hope I didn't scare you, did I?"

Wearing a neutral expression, and not waiting for a reply, her hands caress my underside from the base to the very tip, where her fingers linger for just a moment. My whole body shivers, and a whimper escapes my mouth, as I find myself arcing my head up to the sky. I moan as I try to wrest back control of myself.

She smiles, stroking my thigh. "I think we both enjoyed that, didn't we?"

I nod my head mutely. It is all I can manage.

"You've not disappointed me, but I did make a promise, and I must put my new toy down for now." Moving back a few inches from my erection, she squints a little and tilts her head. "First, I really should slide you back over your head, shouldn't I?"

"Ok," I said weakly.

She strokes my thigh approvingly again. "Good, we both agree, I'll put it back as I found it." She places both her hands around my middle, which she grips taking great care not to scratch me with her nails. Sliding her almond-milk hands towards herself, as if receiving a blessing, she gently persuades my baby-soft skin back into place restoring a fraction of my modesty. "There we go, all done."

As she withdraws her hands, her fingers dance like raindrops along my full length lingering at the tip for just a moment. Again, my whole body shivers, but even harder this time, and I let out a gasp just managing to pull myself back from the precipice. Sensing my passion, she squeezes my hand in sympathy as my breathing returns to normal. As we make eye contact again, something passes between us unspoken.

"Now, I must take care of your two balls before those women get their claws into them first." Repositioning herself on well-muscled haunches, she looks down to appraise me dangling before her. "They really do hang very low." She reaches out to explore my orbs, cupping them, weighing them, caressing them, gently corralling them together in my soft sack like two eggs in a silk purse. "They feel so heavy." Her eyes not looking up. "They're so delicate. It would have been so easy for those women to really hurt them."

As her hands continue to explore me, it is like being bathed in a tranquil lake; there are only her hands and my organs; nothing else exists, not even time.

Finally, she breaks the spell with some levity. "Look, I can even make them swing from side to side, see?" Like a cat toying with its prey, she swings my eggs from one side to the other.

We both laugh together and exchange glances.

"You like being played with, don't you my sweet boy."

Despite the fire in my loins, it has become cooler now; the hairs on my limbs are sticking up as if yearning to be closer to her. Time must have really passed; the sky is beginning to darken like quartz in a smoky flame, and the windless calm, like a discarded lover, has been replaced by a stiff breeze.

Paying no attention to the change in the elements, her brow furrowed in concentration, she closes her eyes, placing both hands palm-up under my pendulous organs. Again, I see her lips move silently for a moment. Opening her eyes, she moves both hands upwards bearing my organs on her palms. I let out a sigh as the weight is relieved from between my legs. With great care as if preparing a sacrament, she closes both hands like silk-lined jewellery boxes clasping shut upon the most precious gems. Her touch as light as a bird, she eases my orbs both up and towards her lightly stretching my silky sack.

"There we go, all done. Your balls are safe in my hands now."

Fully enclosed in her hands, I let out a deep sigh of satisfaction, like a weary traveller falling into a warm bed of the softest linen. My arms hang limply at my sides.

"Now be a good boy and come and sit here with me".

Like an obedient puppy, I sit down on the golden sand for her. She straddles my legs making herself comfortable. As she proudly tosses her head back, her glossy hair caresses my face.

"I don't think I'll ever get bored of having a boy like you all to myself."

Contained within her delicate hands, it is like being held within a womb: her soft thighs warm me, her smile nourishes me and the weight of her secures me. Her ocean-blue eyes draw me down into their depths.

Now, as if a blind had been drawn across the firmament, roiling onyx-black clouds set in a moonstone-grey sky bear down upon us. Chilled air, as if drawn from the deepest well, envelops us, and the wind, now blowing hard, hurriedly bears away great suds of sea foam from before us. Despite this, my erection rises between us as straight and true as a mast, and as brave and vulnerable as a lone ship crossing the vastest ocean.

Her nostrils flare as she smiles to herself then she tosses her head back and laughs with abandon into the turbulent skies, her demeanour shifting like sands. "You don't need your trunks now; I'm throwing them away for you." She releases one of my eggs for just a moment to free a hand, which she uses to throw my empty trunks into the oncoming maelstrom; they are hoisted up and away by the wind, as if at her command, like an abandoned kite.

The elements care nothing for my dignity, it seems.

Her long black hair flowing in the wind now like wild horses in full gallop, her voice raised above the storm. "I'm so glad I found you. Your new Queen is never going to let you go...at least not without putting up a fight!"

I recoil like a frightened rabbit, wrenching my legs out from under her, but her hold on my organs is as fast as the most secure knot, pulling my sack as taut as a mooring rope against me. I whimper as I am hauled back towards her as helpless as if caught in the strongest tide. Sobbing, I plead into her eyes now as green as the deepest abyss, but they are narrowed in anger, her head is dipped, and her nostrils are flaring.

"You will lament that!" she hisses into my ear.

With the wind shrieking like a chorus of banshees, and the waves dashing themselves upon the beach in a frenzy, her grip tightens around my tender organs like an iron strap; the sinews in her forearms contorting like snakes, her nails digging into my soft sack like talons, and her fingers wrapping around me like vines.

"Oh God!" I cry, "Oh God!" but the tempest drowns out my appeal to the Heavens, which goes unanswered.