Swampbabe Redux


This is a newer version of my “Swampbabe” story, first appearing in the defunct “Carl Jeffries” blog here. Lemme know if you think this version is better, worse, about the same… I’m not sold on the style I kind of fell into here (and in the original), but I think it does suit the character pretty well.


by Ari Collins

I found her alone in an egg-sac in the swamp reeds. The maygirl clung to my back as I raced away in the late dawn, hoping I hadn’t been spotted by anti-poaching agents or, even worse, her parents. She cried at first, strange foamy tears that at least kept her skin moist, but after just a few minutes she was laughing, shouting: “Horsey ride!” I slowed to a walk, and by the time we got back to the apartment she was walking beside me, laughing, pointing with her webbed fingers at a city squirrel, wonder in her red-brown eyes. I think it was around then I decided I couldn’t sell her. And so I named her.

Julia reached adolescence around noon that day, during her bath, just as her skin was turning from dry brown back to its natural smooth slick green. She surprised me by being an excellent lover, lying still at the right times, making sounds that wavered between shock and awe. After I came, I massaged the delicate frill on the arch of her back.

When I awoke, it was nearly twilight. I hadn’t meant to sleep. I found Julia in the bathtub, scrubbing herself with the heels of her hands, no doubt enjoying the clean water, cleaner, much cleaner than her former home. But she looked so much older, too. I brought her back to bed one final time, holding back the end as long as possible. I spooned her afterwards and we just… talked. About what I couldn’t tell you, but I’d never felt closer to anyone before. Or since. And after a while, we just lay there, in silence, happy.

“Lippy,” she said finally, using her favorite nickname for me, “I don’t feel so good.” Her voice was so scratchy that I sat up in alarm and saw that she had grown old in bed with me. I helped her into the bathtub, and she seemed to feel better for a while. But soon her skin started to turn a dull pink, and I knew it was the end. “Lippy,” she said again. “Bring me back to the swamp. I want to feel the mud I remember, under my toes.”

But I couldn’t bring her back. She was a lot heavier than when I’d brought her out of the swamp that morning, and I might not get past the wetlands protection patrols a second time, and… and it was too late for her. She needed what time we had left. I didn’t answer, and after a while she started crying, just like she had that morning, foamy tears, making her bath into a bubblebath. And then, eventually, and fortunately not too slowly, she died.

I never tried to get another maygirl, even after the species rebounded and was taken off the protection list. She was my first, and she’ll always be my only. My one regret is missing so much of her youth. Time lost is lost forever, and Julia taught me that better than anyone ever could.

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One Response to “Swampbabe Redux”

  1. annoying Says:

    My first impressions are that this one is better. It is more complete and I like that he doesn’t try to get another maygirl in this one. But, it still feels a little … rushed. Then again, maybe that’s what you’re going for; her whole life is only a day long, so it’s somewhat fitting that the story about her goes swiftly. A short explanation of “Lippy” might be nice.

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