Atldomdiscrete
The wall was thick and pellucid, merely hinting at the reflection of crystal, the flash of the camera, a splash of color reflected from the wet circular rim of a cocktail glass. Laughter shattered against its cold, unfeeling flatness, to be swept into receptacles by the shuffling minions of those who had created this special environment, this crucible of glass and water, passion and pain.
The breasts of the mermaid were splashed against the glass wall, round and desperate, almost comical, moving up and down but without the squeegee sounds one might expect. The thump of the dance music drowned any specific noise that could have made it through the liquid medium of the tank and the heavy glass wall stopped anything else. The round aureolas measured themselves in pink-brown rings, centered in the still more pink balloons which pressed desperately against the unforgiving surface of the tank. Well manicured hands printed vertically, once, twice, pulling upward and with a kick of her tail the Mermaid reached the third air hose. Her lips closed around it and she began breathing again, if only for a few moments. The stem of the hose was only an inch of projection and she had to force her face against the glass to breathe. The spectators clapped.
‘Please help me! Please get me out!’
The plea came through the pipe as a garbled unintelligable prayer. The Mermaid slipped an inch and undulated her ass frantically to maintain her position near the breathing tube. Her legs, tied and locked cunningly into an impossibly tight green-scaled suit which fit just below her navel, kicked three times in rapid succession, using the lift from the false tail to keep her in place fifteen feet above the floor of the tank. Tall green fronds waved in time with her kicks giving the whole scene a surreal poignance heightened by the coral, rocks and other objects usually seen in a much smaller fish tank. Her hair, dark in the greenish light of the aquarium, floated behind her as she slid her hands higher up the glass to keep positioned. Her face was a mask of existential pain.
‘OhGodPleaseHelpMe!’
A short series of beeps preceded the whirr and click of machinery as the small pump slowed the flow of air through the tube. This allowed for the maximum emotional reaction, something appreciated by the crowd. Everything had been cunningly designed for the best aesthetic effect. Spectacles such as this allowed the winners of the world to relax, breathe deep, and enjoy the privelige of something approaching a personalized stress receptacle, albeit an abstract one, in which to dump the daily cares of the day.
Another click and a smug sucking sound signaled the cessation of air through the tube and the Mermaid felt, once again, the burning panic and frustration beginning in her loins, deep below the navel. The human portion of the mind stripped away once again she became the panicked fish-creature that her Owners willed her to be, the animal sensibilities taking over every portion of humanity.
‘Please let me breathe! You can’t do this to me!’
The mermaid pressed her body in a pathetic attempt to push through the glass, pressing her curvaceous body, breasts and hips, against the smooth surface over and over with the pathetic intensity of a rejected lover. Her fists pounded several times as her lips rounded into an O of pleading.
She now had an indeterminate time to wait for one of the other four airtubes, placed at various heights along the vertical surface of the aquarium wall, to begin bubbling precious life into her liquid hell. She fought down the panic and once again explored the surface of the tank. The lid was shut tight as before with no pocket of air. She kicked down towards the bottom eying the airtubes with increasing angst.
Of course when she was placed in the tank, minutes before the party began, she used the precious seconds between air cycles to try to remove the fishtail but her efforts were in vain. Her legs were bound tightly in layer upon layer of rubber wrap, having been tied securely. Fortunately she was a good swimmer and the humiliating tail actually gave her the impetus to move through the water like a fish. No one had told her the details of her predicament so when she realizewas no available air she had kicked back and forth across the tank, begging the assembling guests to release her. Her horror had only been amplified when she realized that she was one of the freak-show features of the evening, designed to titillate the guests and magnify the sadistic streak of shadenfreud which lies dormant in everyone but which was fanned to life quite easily in the assembled crowd of underground devotees of the bondage and discipline lifestyle.
Share this content:
