My Story No Longer Includes You

All throughout their seven-year marriage, Connor Shaw would always offer prayer and worship to the God of his Fyerian faith before he ravished Sylvie Waverly.

As they did the deed before the home altar, Sylvie couldn't stand the pain. She turned around to beg for mercy.

"Keep your mask in place, and don't turn around," Connor instructed quietly.

Sylvie was briefly startled, but Connor soon made it impossible for her to focus. After some time, she heard him let out a low moan.

She was a little out of it as she lay on the cold, hard floor. Her legs were still trembling.

Now that the deed was done, Connor calmly pulled on a white dressing gown before tossing Sylvie a handkerchief. "Wipe it up. Don't sully God's eyes."

Sylvie took a while to recover. Then, after she'd shakily put on her clothes and turned to leave, she heard Connor on the phone with his doctor, Gerald Dunn.

Standing just outside the door, he openly stated, "I only married Sylvie to deal with my compulsive sexual disorder. Once you're able to treat my condition, I'll divorce her."

Upon hearing the mention of divorce, Sylvie felt as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Connor was a devout follower of the Fyerian faith who seemingly lived like a monk, but he suffered from a compulsive sexual disorder. Only the natural body scent of a mermaid like Sylvie could satisfy the lust that was buried deep within him.

Every time they got intimate, Connor would get Sylvie to wear a mask so that he could imagine she was Anna Larson, his first love.

Since they got married, Sylvie had carefully protected Connor's reputation in Jewelton for being chaste and religious. Everyone around him thought he was keeping his chastity intact for Anna. Sylvie was the only one who knew just how wild and frenzied he became.

Connor's voice rang out again. "I'm worried I might hurt Annie during one of my episodes, so I'll wait until I'm all better before I marry her. I don't care about that lovesick doormat."

Sylvie laughed.

Connor was unaware that she was merely completing a mission required of her as a mermaid. He thought she was an infatuated lapdog willingly delivering herself to him.

When they first met, she was 700 years old, and he was seven years old. She'd saved him when he was drowning on the edge of the ocean.

According to the traditions of the merpeople, one would have to marry the first human one encountered and be intimate with the human 999 times before being allowed back to the ocean.

To complete the mission, Sylvie waited until Connor grew up. Then, she took a human form and became the antidote to his compulsive sexual disorder. Thus far, they already had slept 997 times. After just two more, she could finally leave him for good.

After finishing the call, Connor came back to the room and said with a hint of apology in his voice, "I've got an important meeting to attend at the office. You can celebrate your birthday on your own."

Sylvie nodded. As it was, she'd been celebrating her birthday alone all these years.

Once Connor left, Sylvie checked her social media and saw Anna's latest update.

"The moment the princess beckons, the prince will always show up beside her."

It was the caption beneath a photo of Anna leaning against a man's broad shoulder. She had a sweet, blissful smile on her face.

Sylvie instantly recognized whose shoulder that was. The black tie worn by the man was the one she'd ironed for Connor herself.

Connor's and Anna's friends left comments beneath her post.

"Did that doormat Sylvie not cling to Connor?"

Anna replied, "She's a complete fool. Connor managed to brush her off with a random excuse."

Sylvie couldn't be bothered to care about this exchange. She set her phone down and eagerly wrote a letter to her family.

"Mom, Dad, prepare a feast. I'll be back soon."

Done with the letter, she tried to stretch, only to realize that her lower back was aching. Connor seemed unaffected by worldly desires such as lust, but he was very forceful when they got intimate.

As Sylvie massaged her aching body, she thought to herself, "Just two more times, Connor, and I can leave you for good."