Theo floated lazily on the surface of the water, riding the small waves created by the waterfall, watching a trio of pigeons above her. It would've been nice to have more of what zoos called environmental enrichment, more to do, more to watch, just more distraction. As wonderful as swimming felt, and despite the novelty of being able to stay underwater indefinitely, she could only spend so many hours a day simply swimming around like a solitary goldfish in a bowl. It helped when her friends, old or new, dropped by, easing the sense of isolation. She had never been good at being alone.

But there was a thing that happened several times a day that was certainly not boring, though the emotions it created were highly mixed, and it typically didn't take long.

“Hey, sexy. How're you doing, way out here all alone? I brought you a treat, I bet you'll like it. Feel like coming in towards shore?”

Lloyd, this time. Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise that Isabel's assistant seemed to have a better knack of talking to fae than the others did, at least when he could be bothered to make any kind of effort.

Theo closed her eyes, as her hormones surged in the space of a breath from a background level of sexual frustration into an overwhelming hunger. She couldn't fight it. She'd tried.

Not when there was a toy in reach, a human man who had the nerve to believe that he was using her. It would be so easy to drag him out into the water, wrap herself around him, and fuck him while he drowned, as helpless as he and his fellows had forced Theo and her family to feel.

But that might mean no more toys, so for the moment, she'd let him live, and allow him to scratch that itch that just never seemed to go away for long.

Maybe if it actually got satisfied properly, which she was sure Max could do... no, this wasn't the time to think about Max, not during this.

She rolled over and went under, but surfaced closer to the shore, facing Lloyd. She waded towards him, but stopped with the water just below her navel, waiting. He didn't need to know that her own body was screaming at her; if they believed that bringing her gifts helped their chances, she had no intention of disillusioning them. Those gifts were usually edible, and sometimes they were things that Des could eat, which made them particularly valuable.

But those were just a bonus. Her hunger wouldn't have let her refuse even if they didn't bring them.

And yet... unless they got Isabel to use the cuffs to bind her wrists and ankles, which seemed unlikely for several reasons, or persuaded a wizard to net her the way Phrixos had Zach, which seemed even less probable, then these encounters were on her terms, not theirs. Once they came into her reach, they had no hope of escape or of refusing her, even their lives were hers if she chose. That they either ignorantly believed that they were using her, not the other way around, or were desperate enough to keep placing themselves in her power anyway, roused only contempt.

“So what did you bring me?”

Revealing that she'd regained her voice immediately after the collar had been removed had been a calculated and much-discussed risk. It had paid off: she'd discovered that she had a secret weapon.

Felix had been here earlier, so she suspected she knew what Lloyd had brought. Gord would probably assume, as usual, that his routine daily visit to bring her food constituted enough of a gift for her to be accommodating, but Barry would visit later, she was sure of that. They were still revelling in the treat of having her available, and Isabel had apparently decided on a don't-ask-don't-tell policy. Theo had no desire to draw her attention or do anything that would give away her secret weapon and risk the return of that evil collar.

Lloyd held up a clear plastic container. “Saved you some shrimp from supper last night. Water fae usually like seafood a lot. C'mon, gorgeous, come and get it.”

Des was going to have a decent meal later. Even with only limited portions from each, once the small volume was tripled, it would be a reasonable serving of shrimp for a perpetually-hungry cat.

When Lloyd handed her the dish, she looked at it only briefly, then nodded and tossed it over her shoulder, out onto her pond, to collect later. It wasn't going to go anywhere she couldn't retrieve it. Right now, she had other priorities.

He didn't resist when she went directly for the buckle of his belt, then for the button and zipper of his jeans, and slid one webbed wet hand down to grope for what she wanted. He was already getting hard. That wasn't particularly flattering or surprising, considering the lack of available women, but it was a bit disappointing, since none of them ever lasted long enough to completely satisfy her.

Well, it was something.

Had he really felt worth the effort, she was sure she could have come up with some intriguing positions and activities out in the water, making use of her neutral buoyancy and water-breathing and inhuman agility. But with an audience that she doubted would be appreciative of creativity, and that treated her like a cheap prostitute, it would be a waste of time and energy.

Max, on the other hand, was always open to new ideas, and if they failed, it was only likely to lead to both of them laughing over it.

Though it never worked, she kept trying to keep her thoughts away from Max during these encounters. Even if it was in comparison, and her currently-available prey fell spectacularly short on every possible scale.

She let go long enough to slide his jeans down over his hips, exposing the only territory that held any interest for her right now.

On top had advantages, like keeping control, and better fantasies about how easily humans drowned. On the bottom had others, like being in the water more, and requiring less exertion. On top, her tentacles were free to follow her whims, responding to her feelings though still not her control; on the bottom, they simply coiled themselves against her spine without discomfort. She spent less time thinking about holding Lloyd under the water than she did the others... With a mental shrug, she released him and stretched out in the shallow water on her back, right next to him. She didn't even need to untie her sarong, which stayed comfortably between her and the sand as she spread her legs and beckoned. Unlike a human woman, the water wasn't going to wash away all lubrication and make this an uncomfortable reality rather than a romantic image.

“Coming?” she purred. “I'd like you to.” She made her tone sing-song, pretending to herself that she was singing, not talking. Time for another experiment of her own, and she'd consider herself doubly successful if it worked. “Get out of those jeans and c'mere. I know you want to get inside me. Door's open. C'mon in.” And the ripples in the water, created by the little waterfall that kept it all moving and clean like the pump in an aquarium, were tickling against all that hypersensitive territory between her legs, which only made the hunger stronger. It wasn't exactly great literature, or even great pillow-talk, but it didn't matter. She was fairly sure she could read the End User License Agreement on software, or the menu of the Chinese restaurant her family liked, as long as she did it in the right tone, and at the very least, men who were attracted to women would respond.

Lloyd didn't need any encouragement beyond that. He kicked off his running shoes, skinned out of his jeans and underwear, although as usual he didn't bother removing his t-shirt, and splashed into the water to drop to one knee between her spread legs. She helpfully raised her hips to make it easier, and slipped one hand around the back of his neck as he fumbled his way into her. That felt very different from anal sex, which she'd enjoyed for a very long time, but it wasn't different in a bad way. Exactly the opposite. She actually found the sensation extremely pleasant, and having her own ample lubrication was certainly convenient.

She was looking forward to trying it with someone more inclined to help her really explore what her new body could do and best responded to. But she was trying not to think that.

She absolutely refused to kiss any of them—Felix and Gord kept trying to sneak kisses and Barry took any chance to try to force one, but Lloyd accepted that it wasn't going to happen. When she was in the right mood, or if they brought her something she was particularly sure that Des would enjoy, she allowed them to play with her heavy, mid-sized, not-at-all-hydrodynamic breasts. That felt rather nice, sometimes. Barry was the exception: she never allowed him on top, never allowed his hands on her, and she had no plans to change that policy.

At the moment, Lloyd had brought that shrimp, and he was being reasonably respectful, and she was feeling somewhat indulgent. So she untied the knot at the back of her neck that held her sarong in place, allowing the water's motion to wash it open invitingly.

“I want something from you,” she said close to his ear, still singsong, as his hands took her up on it and went wandering. “I want you to not just come in no time flat. I want you to wait. I want you not to climax until I tell you that you can. Because that would feel so much better for both of us, don't you think? If you can stay nice and hard and keep fucking me, just like that, for a lot longer than you usually can? Would you like that?”

He grunted agreement.

Smiling, she arched her back and braced both feet, moving with him. While the friction inside, and his hands on her breasts, both felt good, she'd also never realized before just how intense a turn-on it was to have power over someone. Sure, there would be consequences if anyone ever found out... but the longer he persisted, the more clear it was that despite everything, within this limited context, her own control over events and the human men within them was far more extensive than their captors knew.

Few women she'd ever slept with had been able to orgasm with only this, lacking more direct stimulation. Somehow, it didn't surprise her that this fae body was an exception, and she actually could—although she had to have that sense of power to go with the sensations, and they had to actually last long enough, which they rarely did. She'd never thought of herself as that dominant, but apparently she was now. And these orgasms were very unlike the ones she was familiar with, less localized, more pervasive, sending delicious ripples of pleasure through every part of her.

Obviously, her request had worked, because he kept going long enough.

In fact, as the lovely feeling from that orgasm subsided, she began to suspect he was trapped in a loop, intent on actually finishing, possibly even right at the edge, but unable to get over it until she released him.

That reinforced her own energy and enthusiasm for a short time, long enough for a second orgasm that, to her surprise, was even better and stronger, before she began to get bored. She contemplated changing positions, just for variety and to see whether she could have a third orgasm, but decided that enough was enough. She didn't want to prolong it so long that there might be any cause for suspicion.

“Hey, loverboy,” she crooned. “Once you come, I want you to forget anything at all unusual about it other than just feeling really good. You don't need to remember anything I've said. There's no need to mention anything about it to Isabel or the wizards or the other three, right? It's just between us. If you're bragging to the others, all they need to know is that you're so good you made me come, which believe me isn't happening very often, but I'm hoping it's going to happen more in the future. You'll do that, right? Just accept this as a particularly good fuck and let it go at that?”

He mumbled something in reply. She wasn't all that worried. So far, even if they were distracted, some part of their minds did process her words.

“Good boy. Let's make this a bargain. If you agree to do that, then you have my permission to come. Nice and hard and it's going to just rock your whole world.”

He obeyed so completely that it actually did give her a third orgasm.

As soon as she felt him starting to soften and shrink inside her, she lost all interest. It wasn't that his weight across her, as he tried to catch his breath, was a physical problem, but she didn't want him there.

“Move,” she said curtly, and when he raised his head to blink at her in confusion, she planted both hands on his shoulders and shoved him to one side. That gave her enough room to escape back into the water, yanking her sarong impatiently out from under him. First on the list: washing up, in the turbulent waters right next to the waterfall. Second, tie her sarong back into place. Third, retrieve the dish of shrimp that was bobbing on the surface against the cliff and dive so she could hide it away in her private sanctuary, a cave accessible only via an entrance some ten feet down. There she could leave it with Felix' contribution. Des would be along sooner or later.

She heaved herself up out of the water, an action she knew she could never have done as a human, and sat on the edge, feet dangling in the water. The walls in here glowed with a gentle phosphoresence from the long spikes of crystal embedded in them. It wasn't a lot of light, but it was enough for her to see comfortably, despite lacking the acute night vision that several of her friends now had. Probably human eyes would find it dim but not really dark. It was enough, at least, for her to sit here and gaze vacantly at the light striking the ripples her own legs created as she kicked idly. It was easier to wait here until he'd had time to go away. She had no desire to be friendly. Or even civil.

The first time she'd realized what she'd done, as Gord strolled away, she'd knelt in the shallows with her face in her hands and wept. Des had jolted her out of it by pointing out that Max's first concern would be that she look after herself and get home to him safely, and what it took to do that would always be secondary.

She knew that was the truth. She knew that she had scant choice—her sex drive was now so high that any opportunity to feed it even a little was nearly impossible to resist. She hoped fervently that if she could just get back to Max, and if he could just accept this weird new reality and still love her, their connection and his interest in more than just a quick fuck would give her what she wasn't getting here.

And the gifts they gave her really were helpful in keeping Des fed.

And while they saw it as having a sexy fae they could use at will, she knew far more about it than they did, and only the fact that she and her friends would remain trapped on the island by wizards and medium was keeping the four men alive.

But none of that really changed the fact that she was repeatedly having sex with men she actively loathed and despised so intensely that fantasies of drowning them gave her a fierce rush of power-flavoured arousal. Like the sex itself, it felt good at the time but disturbed her afterwards.

Kay, please find us. Please? I know it hasn't been even a full day there, and it may take time from your side, but... oh, god, I hope it isn't too much...