Ellen Datlow: Sirens and Other Daemon Lovers

Simew and I came to the water garden, where a low mist lingered over the linked pools. Simew crouched at the edge of the nearest pond, her whiskers kissing the surface of the water. I gazed at her with affection. “Oh, Simew, how cruel it is we are separated by an accident of species! If you were a woman, we might walk together now with arms linked. I might take you in my arms and kiss you.”

The fire of the goddess ran through my blood. As the sun, her father, lifted above the trees to sear away the mist, I spoke a silent prayer to Pu-ryah, declared myself her priest. Yet, in her way, she was a goddess of carnality, so how could I worship her alone, without a woman to help express my devotion?

I pressed my hands against my eyes, and for a while all the grief within my heart welled up to smother my new-found serenity. I had riches, yes, and a loyal feline friend, but I was essentially alone, devoid of a companion of the heart, with whom I might make love or talk about the mysteries of life.

Then I felt a soft touch upon my arm, of gentle fingers. Alarmed, I dropped my hands and uttered a cry of shock. I beheld a young woman, who backed away from me, her eyes wide. She crouched down before me, utterly naked, her skin the color of honey, her body hunched into a position of alertness.

“Who are you?” I demanded, while within me conflicting emotions made war. My male instincts were aroused by the surprise of finding a naked girl in my garden, but she was still an intruder. What was she doing there?

The girl held up her hands to me, and now her expression was pleading. She shook her head slowly from side to side. Her face was small and heart-shaped, utterly enchanting.

“Speak!” I said, “or I must summon my staff to evict you.”

The girl’s face was puckered with anguish. She shrugged her shoulders in an ophidian motion, which seemed to indicate impatience, then touched her mouth with her fingers. I realized she could not speak.

I reached down and took her forearms in my hands, lifted her to her feet. She did not seem at all ashamed at her state of undress, and I could not help but admire the trim conformation of her body. “Are you lost?” I asked her.

She smiled then and shook her head. It was a fierce smile, quite without fear, and a strange tremor passed through me. She held my gaze without blinking, pushing her long amber hair back behind her ears. Then, she dismissed me from her attention and held out her arms before her, twisting them around as if to examine them for the first time. After this, she shrugged and began to walk away from me. Aghast, I called out and she paused and glanced over her shoulder, before resuming her walk back toward the house. I felt that she knew this place well, but how? I think perhaps it was at that moment I realized Simew was nowhere to be seen. A chill coursed through my flesh. No! I called her name, scanning the trees and bushes, but of course it was my lovely visitor who turned her head to answer the call.

Pu-ryah had heard my prayers and answered them. As I had dedicated myself to her, so she rewarded me. Simew had been transformed into a woman, the most lovely woman I had ever seen. I caught up with her by the cloister that flanked the back of the house, and here took hold of her arm.

“We must be discreet,” I said. “The servants must not see you undressed.”

She shrugged, as if to imply she would concur with my wishes, but didn’t really care whether someone saw her or not. I went into the house before her, and led the way back to my private chambers, checking round every corner beforehand to make sure the coast was clear. In my rooms, I turned the key in the lock, and leaned against the door to gaze upon this magical creature. She stood in the center of the room, looking around in curiosity. Now, the world must appear very different to her. Then she turned her attention upon herself, and began to stroke her body in long, slow movements. She raised her hand to her mouth and licked it. I was entranced by her, my cat woman.

“You can no longer wash yourself,” I said. “The human body is far less supple than a cat’s.”

She gave me a studied look, as to contest that remark. Her mouth dropped open and expelled a musical, feline cry. She was not mute, then. My flesh tingled.

She slunk toward me, her eyes half-closed. I heard her purring. When she was very close, she butted her head against my cheek, uttered a chirruping sound. I seized her in my arms. She wriggled away, still purring, and ran nimbly to my bedroom. I followed her and found her crouched on all fours, on the bed. She turned round in a circle a few times, before collapsing gracefully in a curving heap, peering up at me seductively through a veil of hair. The invitation was unmistakable. I approached her and she rolled onto her back, as was her custom. I reached down and stroked her belly, conjuring louder purrs. Her skin was softly furred by tiny, transparent hairs. I ran my hands up over her firm breasts and she arched her back in delight. Emboldened, I continued this tactile investigation, sliding my fingers down between her muscled thighs. All I found was welcome. Lust overtook me and I tore off my robes. Simew positioned herself on all fours once more, her glistening vulva displayed provocatively, her hands kneading the bedclothes before her. When I entered her, she screeched; her whole body became rigid. Never had coupling been so swift for me.

Afterward, she did the most astounding thing. I watched in silent amazement as she contorted her body without apparent difficulty and set about washing her private parts with her tongue. Then, she cleaned herself all over, licking her hand to reach more inaccessible areas, unable only to attain the back of her neck. I lay in a stupor beside her, aroused once more by her bizarre behavior. When she came to lie against my side, purring, I laid her on her back and took her that way. Her desire was kindled instantly and she appeared to enjoy the change of position.

Throughout that day, I taught her many tricks of the art of love. The servants came to my doors, but I would not allow them entrance. No doubt they thought I had succumbed to melancholy once more. But then, they must have heard the howls and grunts emanating from the bedroom, and drawn their own conclusions, upon which it is better not to dwell. Simew could not help but sound like a cat when throes of delight overtook her.

How she loved the sexual act. I had always suspected cats were masters and mistresses of carnality, but now, with Simew transformed physically into a human, while retaining feline sensibilities, I had no doubt. She was quite impossible to sate. The more we coupled, the more hungry she became. I remembered that the member of a male cat is barbed, and people say that during feline copulation it is only when he withdraws from the female’s body, thus tearing her delicate flesh, that she finds satisfaction. I had no wish to hurt my beautiful lover, but how could I provide her with what nature had denied me? Eventually, her agitation became so great, I put my fingers inside her and raked my nails along the slick flesh. She uttered an ear-splitting howl and lashed out at me, her body bucking. Within her, powerful muscles gripped my fingers and warm liquid flowed down my wrist. Then, as the convulsions subsided, she lay quiet, her eyes half closed, a soft purr rippling from her throat. I felt exhausted.

When I stood up to go to my bathroom, I found my body covered in scratches, welts, and bites. My member seemed to have shrunk back into my body in an attempt to escape my lover’s demands.

Weak, I drew my own bath and lay there for some time, blinking in the steam. I had never felt so utterly complete. The sexual urge had been drained from me. I had filled Simew’s cup to the full and now my vessel was empty, but the experience had exhilarated as much as sapped me.