Your name is Cronus Ampora and you have been quadranted with Meenah the Sea Bitch Peixes for what you think has been half a sweep. There's a part of you that knows that getting into a kismesitude with her was probably the worst idea you've had in a while. And there's a part of you that knows that she's the only one you can trust to do this. So despite her wicked, violent tendencies and her snarky attitude, the two of you seem to be in a healthy black relationship.

Or you probably were yesterday. Right now you're not so sure. She told you to come to the ablutions block and is just sitting on the edge of the trap, her smug infuriating grin on her face as always. You tilt your head and just grin right back at her, trying to act like you know what's going on as you walk over to her. You lick your lips as you look down at her, feeling like just maybe the two of you are just going to fuck in here, but she pushes you back and goes to the door to lock it.

You raise an eyebrow and sit down where she'd been, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, kitten, there gonna be some kinda point to all this?"

She gives that cackling, borderline maniacal laugh as she walks back over to you with her hands on her narrow hips. "Oh, angelfish, I'm just anglin' for us to have a little fun."

You roll your hollow, white eyes and just shake your head. "Yeah, I'm sure you are doll. What kinda fun we talking here?" An exciting thought crosses your mind and you find yourself smiling like a two-sweep old on twelfth perigee's eve. "Babe are we talking full on pailing here? Because that would be amazing."

She gives you that look that she only gives you when she seriously hope you're kidding before she purses her lips and closes her eyes to give you a shrug. "Maybe I am. You shore you're ready for full on pailing?" She moves closer, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and you set your hands on her hips.

Even though the two of you have pailed before, it doesn't happen often. It really is the downside to having all of your dead friends and countless alternate versions of them trapped with you in the dreambubbles. "Oh fuck babe I was hatched ready, you know that." Your fingers dance along the bits of exposed skin at her waist but she just pulls away from you.

She tilts her head, looking you over like she's trying to decide exactly what it is she's going to do to you and you can't help the shiver that runs up your spine. "Well, mister hatched ready, you get your slimy ass in the trap." You shrug and look behind you at the empty ablutions trap and turn to get in it but you hear her cackling laugh again. "Wow, Amp-whore-a you're liter-eely dumber than anymoby I've ever met. Take your stupid fuckin' clothes off first."

You bare your teeth and growl at her, fins flaring as you do. You really don't like to take shit, even from her. And her fucking fish puns have become more unbearable than usual. Despite this you do as she asks and set all of your clothes to the side in a neatly folded pile. No reason to wrinkle your clothes, right? As you slip into the trap you smirk at her. "What now? You just gonna stare at me?"

She rolls her eyes as she takes off her glasses and puts her long braids up into a strangely intricate design on the back of her head that, if anyone were to ask, you could only describe as two cosmic snakes tangled in an epic fuck fest. But no one is asking you as you sit waiting in the empty ablutions trap. After a few minutes of silence and her digging in a drawer you hear her give a whoop of excitement and you look up to see what it is. "No peekin' chum. You keep your head down and put your arms behind your back."

You shrug and do as she says. Whatever happens you know that the two of you have planned safe words and gestures. You're not stupid, after all. Neither of you want to actually kill the other after all. Just maybe grievously injure. But as you flex your hands behind your back you feel something tight wrap around them. "Whoa, babe, what the fuck is that?"

You're legitimately nervous now. She's never tied you up, but if it means that you get to pail you might be a little willing to let this happen. Though you're still not sure what exactly this even is. "You just got a hair band on your wrists. Try to break free." You try to pull your wrists apart but the cord of the elastic just digs into your skin.

"What the fuck kinda head band is that?"

"Alchemized it myself back in the game. Completely unbreakable!" She gives your shoulder a slap and you hiss at her as she turns on the water in the tub. "I hope you're not gonna whine about this."

You roll your eyes though you know the chances of her seeing it are slim. "What you think I'm gonna be a grub about taking a goddamn bath?"

She laughs again and turns off the water as it starts to cover your thighs. "This isn't gonna be a coddamn bath, sea?" You can practically fucking hear the a at the end of that "see" and know that she's making yet another fucking fish pun, but you don't say anything about it. "I got a plan for you, seahorse." She ruffles your carefully quaffed hair before you hear the rustling of more clothes. You're so tempted to turn your head and look now because you know that she's probably completely naked. And what kind of troll would you be not to want to get a look at her rumble spheres?

Before you can turn your head, though, you feel her slip into the water behind you and her cool body is pressing against yours. The alien sensation of someone being colder than you is something that you haven't gotten used to even after having been her quadrantmate for so long. But her smaller, slim body fits against yours and you can feel her long, fine bulge coils between the two of you, leaving a sticky trail of material as she does. You sigh softly and stare into the stilling water beneath you. "Okay then, kitten, if this ain't gonna be a bath, then just what the fuck is it?"

You feel her sit up more and realize that she's taller than you when you're crouched over like this. For some reason this worries you.

But when you feel her grab your horns you growl, which barely lets you hear her speak. "Take a deep breath and hold it, Ampora, you're gonna need it."

You try to turn your head, but her grip is vise-like on your horns and you don't want to dare her breaking them, because you know that she will if you're stupid enough to move too much right now. Instead you just take a breath before she pushes your head into the water.

You roll your eyes, which are protected by your natural second set of eyelids, and just wait for your gills to submerge.

But that isn't happening.

A sudden swell of panic rises in you and you try to fight back against her, but her grip isn't tightening and she's stronger than most trolls her size. In this position you know that she could keep you under. She could actually drown you.

And here you thought that drowning was something that couldn't happen to you. What a fool you've been.

Your lungs are burning and bubbles of air escape from your nose and mouth as you fight not to breathe. Suddenly all of the landdwellers that had fallen to their doom when they wandered too close to the shore pass through your mind and you feel like, if you weren't already dead, you soon would be.

Just as you think that you can't take it and are about to give in, she pulls you back up and you let out a coughing, sputtering breath. Your lungs fill with the sweetest air you've ever tasted and you get in a few deep breaths before she tells you to hold your breath again. This time you listen and the pain isn't as excruciating, but your lungs still burn for lack of air. If you could just move down a little or even splash a little water onto your gills things would be so much simpler, but you know that that's why the level of the water is so low.

Your name is Cronus Ampora and you are being drowned by what human sailors would call a mermaid.

The thought strikes you as funny, but not in good taste. At least not now while you've been underwater for what feels like an eternity. And it all honesty it makes you feel almost entirely human for the first time.

Maybe later you'll thank her for this, but for now you just do your best not to breathe as she keeps your head under.

For the second time she pulls you up and you're left panting and shaking as her grip loosens on your horns. Of of her hands move down and stroke your fin as you catch your breath, but the sensation doesn't seem to help with that at all. It's still so strangely comforting as you try to breathe, but then she tells you to hold your breath again so you listen like the last time.

This time it doesn't take much to hold you under. Instead of holding you by the horns she just keeps her hand in your hair. It doesn't seem to matter anyway. You don't have much fight left in you and you're honestly ready to just give in and fade to black until you wake up somewhere else.

Or you feel like that until there's a cold pressure pressing at your nook. Apparently the sea bitch has decided to fuck you while you're drowning. What a perfect kismesis she makes.

The thought almost makes you laugh, but you know that you can't. You need to keep the breath that you've managed to hold and her bulge snake its way into you is making it immensely difficult. Even just the way it twitches and curls against your overly sensitive nook makes every second under water more and more difficult to stand. You're fairly certain that you'd managed to last for a few minutes the first two times, but now you aren't even sure if you'll make it through one.

You can just barely hear her as she tells you that you're such a good little Amp-whore-a for taking her bulge the way you do. Normally you'd bite and snap at her. Rake your claws over her skin and make her bleed that imperial fuchsia.

But right now she has complete and utter control over you. She could end your life (if you were alive) and you know it. You know that even as a ghost you could black out any minute and wake up with fuzzy memories and a migraine. And even knowing this, you can't help the pathetic little squeaks you let out under water.

You squeak like a wriggler telling someone not to touch it and you can't stop from making them. You've been told that they're some kind of defense mechanism to make other trolls flip and take pity on you in the most pitch of situations so that they don't actually kill you. But something tells you now that Meenah isn't going to be stopped.

Especially when you hear her cackling over the sound of skin slapping against skin.

She's pushing you to your limits and you know that she would kill you if she hated you more platonically. And you can't even begin to explain even to yourself how thankful you are for that. You just want to growl and bite and scratch but she's got complete control over you, and just as you reach your limits and your vision starts to blur she pulls you from the water and rests her chin on your shoulder as her bulge coils deep inside of you.

You let out a high squeak as you breath and she just laughs darkly before pulling at the edges of your fin with her fine, sharp teeth. "You're a cute little guppy, Ampora. When you're not being a the biggest douche fin I've ever had the misfortune to know."

You try to be threatening and growl but it comes out as high chirps and trills. You don't have the energy to be threatening anymore. Not with the heady feeling of being so breathless and the slick feeling in your nook. She grips more tightly at your hair and you whimper before her other hand trails down and gives your aching bulge the the softest bit of friction.

You try to recover speech but nothing seems to be working. You're left a shuddering mess. Putty in her claws. And she knows it. She fucking knows it. You only half hear her whisper as she tells you to take another deep breath and once again you listen. She dunks you and her thrusts turn urgent and almost violent with a rough slap making the water around you slosh even more.

It's so difficult not to just call out and whimper and whine while she's thrusting but if you do you know that you'll just get a lungful of water. You shudder as you feel pleasure coursing through you, mixing with the pain of your burning lungs. Its only a matter of time now before you come with a scream or a moan and you'll breath in your own slurry.

The idea is revolting and arousing all at once, but you know that there's no way to stop whatever it is that's going to happen. She slams into you and her hand pulls at your bulge, forcing you to finally give in and let out a low moan. Realizing your mistake you close your mouth but you can't stop the water that does make it past your lips. It's so uncomfortable to hold it in your mouth but your mounting orgasm feels like its going to be worth it.

You can hear her cursing under her breath as her frigid material spills into your nook and you're whimpering as you grind back against her. But before you can try to beg she pulls out of you and you fall into the water, finally submerging enough for your gills to take in water the way that they should. You look up to see her laughing do at you and you sit up, taking in more of her tyrian slurry than water as you do.

Once you're sitting up as best as you can, leaning against the side of the tub with your nook throbbing and her material leaking from it mixed with your lubricating material and your bulge aching and thrashing as it looks for release, you just stare her down. She has a smirk on her face as she cleans herself off and dresses again.

You don't say anything. Rather you can't say anything as you're still left needy and shivering in the tub of icy slurry and water. You move forward and rest your chin on the edge of the tub with your eyes focused as much as you can make them focus on her. You even do your best to pull a memory of how they looked in life so she gets the full effect of your just-fucked face and your ever lusting eyes.

You think that she gets the point as she leans down and gives you a gnashing kiss, but then she pulls away, laughing again. She unties you but then just leaves.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't do anything. She just leaves.

So you lay in the tub and stare up at the ceiling as you wonder just how your un-life got so fucked over and try to stroke yourself to completion. You're a shaking, needy mess right now and you think that you might need to find yourself a moirail or something.

Or maybe you just need to be in a healthier kismesitude.

But you don't really give a flying fuck, because you got fucked. That's what matters in the end of all this. So you let your material flow over your hand and coat your thighs as you wonder if you should have just given in to the need to moan and whimper for her in the water.

Maybe it would have been better.

Or maybe next time you'll drown the mermaid instead.