“It’s alright little friends, I know your tank is a little empty right now, but I’ll get that fixed. Don’t you worry.” Tom sprinkled another handful of the flakes of food across the surface off the water, smiling as the colorful fish swarmed the surface. “Just a little longer.”
His new decoration was waiting in the bed of his truck. The two thousand gallon tank he’d built himself was looking a little sparse, but he’d fix that. The fifty three saltwater fish didn’t need quite that much space on their own, and needed something in their tank to interact with, badly.
“I’ll be right back,” he told his friends, giving them one last sprinkle of flakes before climbing down the step stool and shutting the ornate cherry cabinet doors concealing the top of the tank. He’d had to build the tank into the wall, and it was just over eight feet tall, including the two feet of space beneath it for filtration. Tom was not a learned man, and constructing such a thing took a lot of trial and error. His basement had been thoroughly flooded on more than one occasion. Still though, what he lacked in conventional education, Tom made up for in persistence.
Tom climbed his way back upstairs and out to his garage, where his new decoration waited. He’d picked it up at the local pool where he worked as a janitor. He’d learned a lot working at the pool, about water filtration, and he’d lifted more than a few of the parts he’d used for his aquarium from work. Little things that baffled the maintenance people, a gasket here, a pump there, but no one suspected Tom. Soon he’d set his sights on bigger things. Things that drew a lot of attention, but he was careful. He knew where all the cameras were and how to avoid them. He had keys to all the locks, even ones he wasn’t supposed to. And he’d learned that when you mixed two of the pool chemicals together, you could make a very potent sedative.
Uncovering the bed of his truck, he admired his newest acquisition. His previous failed attempts, he’d gone for professionals, real athletes. Good swimmers tended to not have particularly large boobs. Too buoyant, plus they were all pretty lithe. He couldn’t help but admire their physiques, but since he was starting all over, he went with something a little different. She’d only been coming to the pool regularly for the past three weeks. She had good form, and maybe she’d been a swimmer in her youth, but in the ten or so years following high school, she’d put on a few pounds, in all the right places. Tom dragged her unconscious form to the edge of the truck bed, digging his fingers into her arm, feeling the toned muscle under the soft layer of fat. Yes, she’d be perfect for his aquarium.
She stirred as he moved her, groaning. He’d tied her up after taking her; the chemicals he’d smothered her to sleep with weren’t an exact science, and he didn’t want her trying to jump out of the back of his truck while he was taking her home. That was a mistake he would not make twice. He’d bound her wrists and ankles with duct tape, and taped a rag in her mouth.
“It’s alright,” he told her as he hefted her over his shoulder, grabbing a handful of her full ass through the still damp swimsuit. “I’ve got you now.”
She started struggling and trying to make noise through he gag, probably recognizing his voice as the one who’d grabbed her from behind in the shower and held a chemical soaked cloth over her mouth and nose, groping her tits until she lost consciousness. It didn’t matter though, she might have been heavier than the other girls, but it wasn’t enough to make a difference. Tom had no problem getting her inside and carrying her down into his basement.
He threw the girl onto his workbench, where everything he’d need was meticulously laid out. “Lie still.”
She obeyed, her wide blue eyes fixated on the switchblade he flicked open. He wouldn’t dream of cutting her beautiful flesh, but she didn’t need to know that, and he’d found the threat was more enough to keep a girl compliant, at least at first.
The sharp blade made quick work of the shoulder straps of her swimsuit. She started crying when he grabbed the crotch and sliced through it, leaving her blue one piece bunched up around her middle. The knife returned to his pocket, and he lifted her legs to a waiting hook, where he snagged the tape around her ankles. Tom chuckled to himself as she wiggled, thinking she was like a fish on a hook. He did have fun.
Tom forced the lubed up tip of an enema nozzle up her wriggling bum. “It’s okay,” he assured the girl on his table, even though it didn’t matter. They all acted like he was some rapist, and couldn’t wait to get his dick in their filthy holes. They couldn’t be further from the truth. “I just need to get you cleaned out.”
He loosened the valve, flooding her bowels with cold salt water. The girl screamed behind her gag and thrashed about, but all it took was one hand on one of her bouncing boobs to hold her in place until her struggles slowed to a few sporadic twitches. He watched the water levels until he was sure she’d taken enough, and closed the valve off, but left the plug in.
“It’s important that you’re thoroughly cleaned out,” he explained, oblivious to her pained expression as cramps wracked her body. While he let the enema do its job, he retrieved the permanent plug she’d wear from now on. It had taken him longer than he was proud of to figure out this ingenious solution to the waste problem, and it along with a catheter that would both feed directly down below the tank and went straight into the plumbing meant he never had to worry about her waste mucking up his beautiful tank. The enema was critical in ensuring there were no clogs, and her new liquid diet would keep the rubber tubes clear for the foreseeable future.
Finally he pulled out the nozzle and let her evacuate the dirty enema into a bucket, before pushing the permanent plug inside her. Much wider than the nozzle, and hollow, there would be no way for her to push it out. Still, better safe than sorry, Tom made sure to glue it in place.
The girl was still blubbering into her gag when he lowered her legs. She barely reacted when he pulled out his knife again to cut the tape around her ankles, but she certainly freaked out when he forced her thighs apart, struggling and screaming again.
Tom had tried explaining that he wasn’t interested in what was between her legs, he really had no care for any of their human anatomy below the waist, but they never seemed to care. He no longer wasted his breath, working in silence as he efficiently locked her ankles into waiting straps on the table, and carefully worked the catheter up inside her urethra, inflating the saline filled balloon inside her bladder so it, like the plug, wasn’t coming out.
“The hard part’s done,” he said, more to himself than her. Now it was time for his favorite part. The most important part.
Everything else he needed was out and ready, but not this. This was special, and Tom kept it in a case, more for ceremonial reasons than any practical purpose. Rubbing his hands together like a kid on Christmas, he carefully opened the case and took out the beautiful mermaid tail. Many of his innovations were recycled and reused, but the tails he always made special for each new mermaid he created. A single sleeve of rubber, this one was iridescent bluish purple, the pattern of the fish scales his finest work yet. An elegant, fanned tail spread out from the bottom, thin and light so it would flutter in the water when she struggled.
“Nnnphhh! Pmmmeephh!!!” the girl started screaming when he held up the tail.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s really going to bring out the color in your eyes.”
He unstrapped her ankles. She was in a full panic, kicking and thrashing, her adrenaline surging. Even still, it barely slowed him down. He had a lot of practice, wrangling up her legs and forcing her feet first into the tail, carefully threading the tubes into their concealed slots, where they would empty out in the back and drain out beneath the tank. It was a snug fit over her thick thighs, but he kept pulling, working the rubber material up over her hips. She was so much more beautiful like this, his latest mermaid. The world was a better place with such a majestic creature in it.
The ruined remains of her swimsuit slid easily down over her new tail, and he discarded it. Tom had tried various tops before on previous mermaids, the classic clamshell, a strap made of seaweed, but not for this one. It would be a crime to cover her gorgeous tits.
“You’re almost ready,” he told her, ripping the tape off her of her mouth.
“Please,” she begged after retching out the saliva-drenched rag.
He put a finger to her lips, and held up a modified scuba mask. “I hate to cover up even an inch of that beautiful face.” One day, he’d crack how to get his mermaid air while underwater without the bulky apparatus, but not today. “Open up.” He jammed the first tube in her mouth, the larger one that he had to really force deep down her throat, so he could feed and water her. The second one was easier, clipping to the side and not needing to go nearly as far down her throat, so she could breathe. He pinched nose shut, her struggles accelerating and then just as quickly weakening as she adjusted to her new limited air supply coming through the tube. He let go of her nose, her gasping and sputtering coughing in the background as he focused on carefully applying superglue around the rim of the mask. His last mermaid had managed to get her mask off and drown herself. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
“Hnnngg!” she gagged around the tube down her throat as he held the mask over her face.
“Hold. Very. Still.” He slowly lowered the mask to the petrified woman’s face, making sure it was perfectly lined up before pressing it around her face, forming a perfect seal. She blinked pleadingly at him through the clear plastic shield while he held it there, her muffled protests even weaker through the extra barrier of the mask. He smiled back at her, gently blowing along the seam to make sure it dried fully.
After letting it set for several minutes, he gave an experimental tug at the mask, watching her skin pull along with the waterproof seal. “Good,” he muttered, satisfied that it would hold. “It’s time to get you in your new home.” He started stripping, taking off his clothes until he stood before his new ornament, fully naked.
She struggled weakly as he picked her up again. With her new tail, she really was like a fish out of water, flopping about and gasping as he threw her over his shoulder and carried her over to his aquarium. Her struggles didn’t do much to slow his ascent up the ladder to the top of the tank, and with a splash, he deposited her in the warm saltwater.
The mermaid flailed, her bottom half quickly sinking while Tom supported her by her shoulders, easing her deeper. The fish scattered to the bottom corners. They always took awhile to get used to their new decorations.
Tom dunked her, pushing her down to the large, slanted rock waiting for her at the bottom. It was the one piece he’d never had to change. So many iterations of mermaids before her had rested on that piece of orange, reclaimed reef. After making sure she was breathing through the tube, he climbed in after her.
She was trying to wriggle off the rock, seeing if she could figure out how to swim with her legs trapped in a tail and her arms still bound behind her back. When he ripped the tape around her wrists, she swung wildly, but her movements were slow underwater. He easily grabbed first one wrist and then the other, dragging them to the waiting manacles he’d anchored in the rock all those years ago. He’d made them himself, welded the iron links together, fashioning them after a picture he’d seen in a book about pirates. He wanted them to look authentic. The heavy duty padlocks were already waiting on them bottom, and even under water, the click was so very satisfying when he snapped them secure around the manacles around her wrists. Lastly he hooked up the tubes hidden under her tail to their receptacles at the bottom of the tank, and the final piece, an extra large manacle, locked around the base of her tail.
Tom returned to the surface, gasping for breath. Through the rippling surface of the water, he could see her testing her new, permanent chains. Tom smiled to himself. If she was anything like the others, she’d be trying that for awhile. He had plenty of time to go clean up, shower, and settle back down in his nice, comfy armchair to watch his aquarium.
Even still, Tom found himself rushing, hastily putting all the implements of her kidnapping and transformation away before taking a quick rinse in the shower and throwing fresh clothes over his still wet body. There was something special about this one, and he just couldn’t wait to enjoy his time in front of his aquarium. He settled down in his chair, kicking his feet back and letting himself sink deep into the old leather cushions. A gasp of excitement escaped his lips. Jerome, one of his hawkfish, had come out of hiding, and the skittish red fish perched atop the mermaid’s left boob. She stared down at it for a moment before shaking, her breasts swaying gently back and forth underwater, and the fish swam away, darting back into hiding. His fish would get more comfortable with their new tank decoration, but still, Tom was glad he hadn’t missed their first interaction.