Chapter 1: Good Morning, Sunshine (Rewrite)

I know that I have been slow to post things, where in the beginning things seemed to come a lot easier.  I have been working on this new version of chapter 1 and I hope that you find it a little more interesting.  I am concerned that Ayden might come across as a bit too confident and strong.  I had intended her to be a strong character but I want her submissive side to show through from the very beginning and I am not sure that I have acheived that in this current rewrite.  I am sure there will continue to be adjustments.  And as always I would love to hear what you think.

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Chapter 1: Good Morning, Sunshine

Even before she opened her eyes Ayden could feel the sun beating through the bedroom windows warming her bare skin below the light sheets that covered her legs.  The temperature, in the little room was rising fast, making it impossible to sleep.  Ayden rolled over and looked at the clock on the bedside table.  She groaned, “It cannot be this hot at 8:47 in the morning.”  It was going to be miserable again today, just like every other day this summer since she and Meg had arrived.  Why had she agreed to this summer adventure with Meg?  She had known immediately, when Meg first mentioned it, there would be no way to dissuade the ever persistent Meg.  Meg had always gotten her way in everything.  Even as children Meg could convince her to do things she knew she did not want to do.  

They had been best friends since Meg had rescued Ayden from the playground bully on their first day of school.  They had grown up together in a small town and they had gone off to university together as roommates. In just a few weeks Meg would be moving across the country to her new executive position with a Marketing firm whose name was so long Ayden could never remember it.  Meg had cajoled her into this trip because it was their last summer of freedom before their jobs started in the fall.  It would be their last chance to spend a little time together.  Ayden had finally conceded and been convinced to share the beach house for the summer before Meg’s big move.

Meg had always been confident around men, and so typical of her, they had been at the beach house a total of five hours when she met an over tanned surfer boy with a phony white smile.  With her long legs, the way she flipped her beautiful blond hair while she laughed at their jokes, and the radiant smile she would flash when she wanted them; he had fallen under her spell with the first bat of her seductive eyelashes.  It was always that way when men were around Meg.  She just seemed to intoxicate them.  Now, it seemed Meg was barely around the bungalow long enough to change her clothes.  She glanced over at Meg’s bed and the covers were just as neat as the day they arrived.  Ayden wondered if Meg would ever even use the bed before the summer was over. 

Ayden stretched the kinks out of her back and ran her fingers through her long brown hair.  She yawned and threw back the covers; looking over at the clock that now read 9:01.  She sat on the edge of the bed pondering Meg’s more confident and outgoing style.  Meg had long blond hair with just a hint of a curl and all the boys at university had regularly fallen over themselves to save her a seat at the football games, they all wanted to be near her and Ayden could not blame them.  She slowly slid herself out of bed until her bare feet touched the wood plank floor, with its layers of peeling paint that had been applied over the years, and moved towards the bathroom and a nice cool shower to wake help her wake up.

She smiled as she entered the bathroom.  It was almost too cliché even for the beach but at least it was cooler in here.  She and Meg had enjoyed a good laugh when they first saw it with its pale blue paint and lighthouse tiles.  There was even a string of sand dollars hanging from the mirror like a long forgotten Christmas garland, probably left over from some other tourists' vacation in the summers before theirs.  They had promised each other they would look for sand dollars to add to it before they left in the fall.  Ayden reached up and gently ran her finger over the rough edges and realized she missed having Meg around. 

Ayden watched her reflection in the long mirror as she slipped out of her bra.  Her brown hair fell over her shoulders and cascaded down to her full breasts, a wisp curled teasingly around one of her pink nipples.  She instinctively reached up to twist the tendril around her finger but as she did it brushed across her nipple turning it hard like a little rock, even on this warm summer morning.  She watched her breasts rise and fall with her slow measured breaths.  She tilted her head to the side and scrutinized her body.  She had once been told she had a figure like Jayne Mansfield and leaned forward provocatively, mimicking the star’s signature pose.  She laughed at the image smiling back at her and discounted the validity of the assessment.

She turned on the water and it sputtered and spit but eventually settled into a steady stream of clear water.  It had been Ayden’s idea to pay a little extra for the one bungalow with the large sauna shower, but she wondered if that had been frivolous since it had been too hot to use the steam shower.  She let her soft lace panties drop to the floor where she slowly stepped out of them and into the waiting shower.  The water danced across her skin and felt wonderfully cool as she closed her eyes and dropped her head back into the stream, letting it pelt down on her face before it raced over her body and down the drain, washing away the summer’s heat.  She shampooed her hair, letting her fingertips massage her scalp, before reaching for the bar of soap.  Ayden had always found the scent of lavender to be relaxing.  She rolled the bar over in her hands making a bubbly lather and sniffed at the bar smiling.  She slowly moved it across her stomach and up to her breasts where the cool water bounced off her warm skin.  The morning heat washed away by the cool water had made her nipples hard.  She loved how the lather left her skin feeling soft and smooth.  She relished in it and her fingers slowly drew circles, playing at the edge of her nipples.  She let the cool water rain down over her head and she slid the bar of soap slowly over her naval and down to the neatly groomed patch of hair.  The bar easily glided along the line between her thigh and her mons.  Her thumb brushed the edge of her lips and she held her hand still in the moist area, momentarily becoming more and more aware of her awakening arousal.  She had planned for this to be a quick shower but instead she set the soap back into the dish hanging from the wall.

Quietly, Ayden looked to the open door of the bathroom and listened to be sure that she was alone as her fingers slowly began to explore.  Her finger grazed across her clit making it throb and her breasts rose in a sudden intake of air.  She smiled and let the air flow leisurely from her chest as she closed her eyes.  Her finger flattened over her clit as she roughly pressed passed it pushing further back as she let the finger slide deep inside of her.  She pushed in a second finger and her breath slowed to a rhythmic pant as the fingers slipped in and out of her drawing moisture out with each thrust of her hand.  She withdrew her fingers, moved over to the little corner seat and perched on the edge of it.  Ayden leaned her head and back against the shower wall as she brought the fingers up to press hard against the clit and slowly drew circles around it in the moisture, teasing it, she spread her legs further apart, letting the stream from the shower pulse against the throbbing clit.

Ayden moaned a loud, “Oh,” that came out in a gasp as she buried her fingers deep inside her again and drug them out roughly, pulling wetness in its trail as she again lingered over her clit.  She twisted her hips to glide the folds over each other enveloping the fingers that hungrily searched for the clit, punishing it harshly back and forth, with increased urgency.

Her breath began to come out in jagged raspy short puffs and her moans grew louder as she focused fully on her clit forcing her fingers to press roughly onto it.  She gasped for air yelling, "Oh no... no... no," but did not stop thrusting her finger against her clit.

The longing burning deep inside her threatened to explode.  She tried to relax, to make it last just a little longer but her body began to jerk and her head bounced against the shower wall as she yelled, “Oh... oh… OH!”  Finally in what sounded like a hiss she let out a low growled, “Yes…” as her finger slowed but still pressed hard against the tiny clit until her body gradually stopped shaking and her finger slowed.  Ayden let the corner seat support her weight as she sat dazed on it, pressing her flushed cheeks against the cool tile wall.  Her finger gently explored while her body relaxed and her breathing returned to normal.

She turned off the water and reached for a towel, but found them crumpled on the floor in a soaking heap. Ayden shook her head, but felt reassured knowing Meg had at least been there for a few minutes that morning.  With her toe she pushed the wet towels across the tiles to the sink.  She rung out her hair, but still water trailed in rivulets from her hair, down her back and over the toned muscles of her shapely hips and thighs to the pile of wet towels under her feet.  

Ayden stood before the mirror and swiped away the steam that had collected there.  She found her comb under a pile of Meg’s beauty products and ran it quickly through her wet hair, tugging at the tangles left by the shower, before she pulled all of her hair up into a tight ponytail and reached for the baby oil.  She knew it is a bit old fashioned and she would pay for the abuse to her skin when she was a little older but she loved the way it felt against her skin.  She slowly rubbed just a bit onto her arm in a sensuous leisurely manner, as if she had all the time in the world.  She was again distracted by the image of her naked body in the mirror as her fingers and palms danced slowly over the curves of her breasts, circling around the now tender nipples.  Absently she thought of the boys back at school as she gingerly massaged the last of the oil over her belly.  They might save seats for the fair haired Meg, she thought, but Ayden had occasionally gotten a little attention at university too.  She thought back to that special night with Michael after their team had won the final football match of the season.  He was always wonderful in bed, but the enthusiasm of the game had carried over into his love making.  He had sucked and nibbled so roughly at her nipples she thought that she would explode; and the amazing torrential orgasm that followed sapped her body of life causing her to fall blissfully asleep in his arms. 

Her daydream ended as she caught her reflection in the mirror and it brought her back to reality.  Ayden gathered up all the towels from the floor and deposited them in the hamper; vowing to do the laundry in the evening when it cooled off a bit.  She grabbed the little blue bikini, hanging on the rack and slipped it on.  She remembered how they had shopped for days before finding it.  Meg had been so excited and promised it would be perfect for the beach.  As Ayden passed through the bedroom, on her way to the kitchen, she snagged her old familiar university T-shirt, which she had borrowed from Michael and often substituted for a nightshirt.  It was still lying on the end of the bed and she threw it on, over her bikini.  She walked into the kitchen humming the old Beach Boys’ song, “Fun, Fun, Fun” but got stuck on the chorus and could not remember the rest of the words.  Seeing the pile of dishes in the sink she guessed Meg had not come by alone and wondered how it was she had not woken up.  Ayden sighed, but a smile crept across her face as she shook her head and picked up the bowl from the table that was still half full of milk and had a few stray Cheerios still floating in the white liquid, like little life preservers.  With the dishes rinsed and tucked into the dishwasher she went to the refrigerator to see if there was anything left.  She located an apple and two peaches which would have to do for breakfast and lunch, and tucked them deep inside of her bag as she headed out the door to the beach.

The beach was only half a block away and as soon as the door was closed she could smell the cool salt water calling to her.  There were little tourist boutiques lining all of the streets along the beach.  They sold everything from snow cones to tourist T-shirts proclaiming, “My grandma and grandpa went to the beach and all I got was this silly tee.”  There were little cafes with small tables lined up in front and bars that seemed quiet during the day, but drew large crowds at night.  Ayden meant to explore a couple of the nicer bars in the evenings but going alone did not seem as much fun as going there with Meg.  At the very corner, right across the street from the beach access was even an old LP record shop that had bongo drums hanging from the awning out front.  She wondered if the shop had been there since the 1960s. 

The beach was busy, this late in the morning, but not as crowded as it would get over the weekend.  Ayden easily found a nice location and laid out her towel on the dark sand.  The sand was already soaking up the heat of the day and her toes were burning from the walk over, so she headed directly to the water’s edge to dip them in the cool surf.  She had always loved the ocean and the roar of the waves filled her ears.  She stood in the cool water, drinking in the fresh sea air, her toes digging into the soft sand as she watched each wave slowly roll onto the shore.  The surfers were sitting on their boards, lined up like toy soldiers standing sentry, waiting for that one perfect wave.  They were doing their best to find a big wave but this morning the waves were small and the surfers were left paddling on their boards in the deep water far away from the beach.  Ayden was hot and with the small waves keeping the surfers out in the deep water she was sure it would be safe to venture out of the shallow water.  She gingerly stepped a little deeper; ever slowly, she crept further into the water until she had to hop a little for each wave as it rolled towards the beach.  She laughed at herself and enjoyed the feeling of being a little kid again playing in the surf.  She had gone a bit further than she had intended, but she felt alive and refreshed as the water swirled around her. 

She turned to check the bag that she had left unattended back on the beach when an unusually large wave plowed into her from behind and spun her over.  Her head was pulled under water and she was tossed and tumbled about like she had been thrown into a washing machine.  She could not find the surface.  She was not even sure if she was right side up or upside down.  The waves seemed to crash into her as they tossed her over and over.  She started to panic.  For a moment her head was above water; she gasped for air.  As quickly as the air appeared it was gone again and she had swallowed half a mouthful of saltwater.  She had always been a good swimmer but something was pulling her under.  She fought frantically clawing for the surface, for another small gulp of air.  Her head hit something hard and she felt dazed.  Her lungs burned but all she could see were bubbles and green foam all around her.  “Surely,” she had thought, “someone had to have seen me go under.  Someone would pull me free,” but no hand of rescue reached out to her.  Slowly the green water had faded to black.

Addtion to Chapter 4

I have been struggling a bit.  First, to find the time to focus on this and second, with the story itself.  I am going back and doing some rewritting.  I do hope to have an updated rewrite ready for the first of November.  I am not seeing a lot of comments.  I am not seeing a lot that make it this far either.  I know the story is rough still.  I am grateful that you have taken the time to read this far.

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Inside, Master Hunter has put away the broom and is sorting through some items on the workbench.  As she approaches he turns towards her with a smile.  The items on the bench are concealed behind his back.  Ayden silently holds out one of the pieces of fruit on her palm, as she takes another juicy bite out of the largest of the three.  He merely smiles, waving his hand to ward her off, “You enjoy them, Honey.  I am not hungry for fruit this morning, so finish that up quickly, grab the floor cushion, and come join me over by my chair.” She silently nods to him while dabbing at the juice that has collected in the corner of her mouth.  Putting her finger in her mouth and playfully sucking the juice away she smiles up at him and turns to retrieve the cushion from the center of the room.  Humored by her sudden revelry he sighs and watches her saunter over to the cushion, bend at the waist revealing the tiny bikini below her tee shirt and he enjoys the view of her firm thighs, before he returns his attention to the workbench where he gathers up the two lovely red ribbons and a small box that he has laid out for this morning’s labors.  The box has a series of small lights, on the top, that run down the left side and several small buttons that cover the remaining face. 

Master Hunter strides over to where Ayden is now standing by the chair holding the cushion, pressed against her breast, looking slightly bewildered.  He slides his hand up the back of her thighs and pinches her just below the line of her bikini and then plops onto the large chair making himself comfortable.  He motions with his open hand for her to have a seat near him but as she looks around she does not see a chair and eventually her puzzled gaze returns to him.  He smiles at her and quietly directs her, “Use the cushion to sit on and you will be more comfortable.”

Lowering her gaze; feeling slightly foolish, Ayden drops the pillow on the floor at his feet and slowly lowers herself down on it, her feet curled out beside her.  He reaches down and with the crook of his finger tucked under her chin he raises her eyes up and looks deeply into them.  She looks up at him wondering at the kindness in his eyes.  There is something she sees there that makes her want to please him.  She cannot explain it but with every part of her she wants to make this bearded old man happy.  He speaks to her slowly, “Do you remember what I told you yesterday?”

Ayden nods and quickly replies, “Yes Master Hunter,” to his inquiry.  As she replies to his inquiry she notices the items in his hand and he follows her gaze.  A smile spreads over his face as he waits for the curiosity to grow in her eyes. 

He watches her carefully as she scrutinizes each of the items he holds, before he slowly explains, “This morning we will begin your training and to do that I want you to remove your tunic and tie your hair up into pigtails with these ribbons.”  Rather than ask questions, as he is waiting for her to do, Ayden slowly lifts the tee shirt over her head and lays it on the floor beside her.  Her cheeks feel flush as she feels the cool morning air against her bare skin and she looks up at him through her lashes.  She shallows hard trying to hide her embarrassment at being so exposed before him as she reaches for the red ribbons dangling from his fingertips.  Her fingers touch his as she gathers up the ribbons and she feels a current of electricity surge through her body, deep in her belly.  She presses her thighs together to squelch the growing dampness there and reaches up to pull the ponytail from her hair. 

Looking up at this lovely old man Ayden bites her lower lip as she runs her fingers through her hair trying to pull some of the tangles free.  She clears her throat trying to find her voice.  In a soft whisper she explains, “Master Hunter, I am grateful for all that you are doing for me, but later today would you please help me find the house where I am staying this summer?”  Her eyes lock on his pleading for his help and her hands still momentarily. 

He smiles at her placing his hand gently on her cheek and simply says, “The place you came from does not exist here.  When you washed up on the shore here you left that life behind.”  He takes in a deep breath letting her mind adjust to what he is telling her.  Slowly, he begins again, but her mind is screaming in panic and she is not sure she is hearing him correctly as he continues, “This is what I tried to explain to you yesterday.  I do not know how it happens, but I have seen many lost girls wander up from the shore over the years.   You can never return to that world.”

Suddenly, tears of fear well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks.  Master Hunter leans in and gently kisses her tears away.  Taking the ribbons out of her hands that now lay limp in her lap he quickly pulls her hair up high on her head in two expertly styled pig tails.  He leans back in his chair to admire his handiwork and she is vaguely aware of his presence as his words play over in her mind.  “The place you came from does not exist here.”

Time passes between then in silence as Ayden tries desperately to comprehend what she is hearing.  She is aware of his hands on her face and his thumbs brush away the last of the tears.  He whispers in her ear, “I know it is a shock but you like it here.  Right?” 

Ayden nods reflexively, her face still blank, with shock, until his eyes meet hers and he smiles at her.  She meekly smiles back at him and whispers, “Right,” almost in resignation.

“You look beautiful.  Do you know how beautiful you are?” Master Hunter’s voice is in her ears pushing the panic away.  She clutches at them, pulling herself back from the shock of what she has just learned to the safety of Master Hunter’s workshop.  She looks up at him resolutely and nods trying to offer up a smile in gratitude.

“Good,” Master Hunter’s voice rumbles through the workshop.  “We will start with the most basic tasks you will perform.  When you are with me you will kneel unless told to do otherwise.  Do you accept this task?”

Ayden quickly brings her knees up under her body and lifts up so that she is kneeling like she had as a small child, next to her bed, for her nightly prayers.  This evokes an amused smile back to Master Hunter’s face.  Ayden listens intently and follows his directions as he explains that she will kneel with her knees spread wide before him so that her body will always be open to him.  He instructs her to place her hands on her knees with the palms facing up so that they can be ready to serve him.  As she does what he asks of her it all seems so strange and foreign but something deep inside her begins to feel safe under his careful direction.  He directs her to keep her eyes lowered at all times.  He explains that she should never look him in the eyes unless expressly requested by him.

Ayden does not fully understand why, but she wants to please this man that she just met yesterday.  She fights the battle in her own mind, part of her wanting to stand up and walk away from him and all of his rules, but there is another part of her that keeps her locked to the floor wanting to do anything that will make Master Hunter happy.  While she is trying to understand these conflicting feelings in her mind she notices his gaze shifts.  His careful watch has shifted from her to something outside the workshop.  Ayden follows the path of his eyes until they are both looking at the fruit tree out front.  There is a still hush that falls between them and Ayden holds her breath.  Master Hunter finally directs his comments to her but never takes his eyes off of the fruit tree, “You will at no time allow your head to rise above mine.  Do you accept these tasks as I have explained them to you?”

Ayden sits there, on the floor, before him letting all he is asking of her tumble around in her mind.  Everything she has ever known tells her to scream out, “No!” but when she opens her mouth she hears, “Yes, Master Hunter,” gleefully skip off of her tongue and the words taste sweet as they fall from her lips. “Yes, Master Hunter I will do all you ask of me,” she repeats almost for herself and as she says it she realizes how much she means it.  She sits there stunned, staring at his leather boots, and she realizes how much she needs to please this old man.  As she is momentarily caught up in her own thoughts she does not notice that Master Hunter has lifted one boot up slightly so that his toes are raised and his foot is resting on the heel of his boot.  She hears his voice break through her thoughts, “Kiss it,” he directs.  Instinctively she looks up at him to be sure she heard Master Hunter correctly but stops herself when she remembers that she is not allowed to look at his face, and as she stops herself from looking up her gaze has traveled as high as his groin.  There is a large bulge showing through the cloth of his pants and she longs to reach out and stroke it.  Ayden suddenly understands why he is asking her to do these tasks for him.  She sees that by doing them she pleases Master Hunter.  She beams with satisfaction as she slowly tips her body forward, bending at the waist laying her lips gently on the toe of Master Hunters boot.  She inhales deeply and the smell of aged leather fills her nose.  Her lips pause on the toe of the boot; she hears Master Hunter’s breath slow and deepen as she slowly withdraws her mouth and sits back up, this time pulling her shoulders back and sitting up very straight. 

Her eyes stay on the toe of the boot where she has left behind a small wet print of her lips.  The boot slowly snakes over to her knee and Master Hunter slowly pushes her knees further apart, “I said open wide, Girlie.”  Her stomach tightens at his touch and she shifts her hips forward in a vain attempt to slow the wetness growing between her legs.  Ayden shifts her weight and spreads her legs as far as she can.  With her desire mounting Ayden licks her lips watching the boot inch slowly up her leg towards the wetness that cries out for release.  When the toe of Master Hunter’s boot reaches the top of her thigh Ayden’s entire body is alight with her own desire, but she hears his voice break through her carnal yearnings warning her, “I do not want you to move.”

Ayden sucks the inside of her lower lip between her teeth and bites down hard fighting back her own desire for release and sits perfectly still as the tip of the stitching on the boot grazes against the edge of her bikini bottom.  She holds her breath as the front edge of the sole brushes across her lips pressing the wetness between them into the fabric of her bikini.  Master Hunter gently grinds the top of the leather covering against her lips and Ayden cannot help letting out a low aching moan.  She longs to press harder and find release for the fire lighting up inside of her.  Just as Ayden is sure she could not hold out any longer and will surely give in, to the hunger welling up in her body, the boot is gone.  Master Hunter withdraws his foot and is leaning back in his chair with one heel propped on the toe of the other boot.  Ayden can still see the imprint of her kiss now joined by moisture gathered from her bikini bottom.

 “Now, I want you to clean it,” comes the clear directive from Master Hunter.  Ayden is perplexed.  She looks down at her hands wondering what she can use to buff his boots, but as she hesitates she remembers the discarded tee shirt at her side.  When she turns and reaches for the shirt, “…with your tongue,” rings in her ears.  She simply nods and lays the shirt back on the floor.

She turns to the boot before her and squares her shoulders gathering her thoughts.  Her mind is racing.  “How can I do this?” she asks in her mind.  Then she corrects herself and silently asks, “How can I do this right?”  Confidence inspiring her Ayden slowly wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, letting her lips part slightly she leans down and lays another kiss on the tip of the boot.  Slowly she runs her tongue over the surface of the toe.  She can detect a faint sweet delicious odor that must be her own.  At first, her solitary focus is cleaning the boot and her eyes do not leave it.  Running in tongue in circles the taste of leather fills her cheeks.  Ayden slowly wraps her hand around the boot drawing herself closer to Master Hunter’s boot enjoying the feelings growing in her.

Chapter 1 and 2 (Edited by DK)

A friend offered to help me with the story.  Thank you DK (I have not gotten his permission to use his name yet.)  The truth is he is much better at this than I am and that scared me.  He pointed out that he had put a lot of work into it and did not feel I had given it fair consideration.  I never wanted to give him that impression.  So to be fair here is his version of the first two chapters.  I hope you enjoy them.
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Chapter 1: Good Morning, Sunshine

Even before she opened her eyes, she could feel the sun beating through the bedroom windows.  She felt the temperature in the little room rising making her skin feel warm, almost toasty.  Ayden rolled over and looked at the clock on the bedside table:  8:47. “Hmmmm, another unbearably hot day again” she thought. Just like every other day this summer since she and Meg had arrived.  Why had she agreed to this summer adventure with Meg?  But, there was no way to tell Meg no.  Meg always got her way with her. Even as children, Meg always convinced her to do things, she thought she shouldn’t.  Meg convinced her to come because this was their last summer of freedom before their jobs started in the fall.  It would be their last chance to spend a little time together. 

Meg had been her best friend since kindergarten.  They had grown up together in their little hometown, and they had been college roommates.  Meg was moving across the country to her new executive position with a Marketing firm whose name was so long Ayden could never remember it.  So they had decided to rent the little beach house for the summer before Meg moved off.

As usual, they had been at the beach house a total of five hours when Meg had met an over tanned surfer with a phony white smile.  Meg was always confident about men.  She seemed to just control them without thinking.  Her great smile, her body language, her confident laugh, a hand tossing back her blonde hair.  It just seemed to intoxicating to men. Hell, it was intoxcating to Ayden! She reminised about the boys at uni had regularly fallen over themselves to save Meg  a seat at the football games. They all wanted to be near Meg. Ayden could not blame them after all Meg was her best friend.  And in typical Meg fashion, it seemed since Meg met the surfer she was barely around the bungalow long enough to change her clothes before heading off for another day at the beach with him, doing whatever it was that surfers did all day.  She glanced over at Meg’s bed and the covers were just as neat as the day they arrived.  Ayden wondered if Meg would ever even use that bed before summer was over.  Ayden smirked at the thought, knowing full well that Meg was bedding down that surfer, something fast and furious.

As Ayden lay there, she pondering why she was not more adventurous and outgoing like Meg. What was she afraid of?  She wasn't tall or blonde, but she had a spectacular figure, and especially when Meg wasn't around, she found men always giving her a second look.  She had two boyfriends over the course of the four years and they had each enjoyed the small curves of her hips and the way her breasts filled out the airy sundresses she so liked to wear. Oh humm she thought as she lay there stretching her naked form under the cotton sheet. 

Ayden stretched and threw off the covers looking at the clock: 9:01.  She slid out of the bed and her bare feet touching the hardwood floor of the cabin.  She stood and stretched looking at her naked form in the standing mirror; turning from side to side.  Her dark brown hair was long and ran down to her full breasts and the tips of her hair curled teasingly toward her now hard pink nipples.  She cupped them feeling the weight and squeezed, turning slowly side-to-side as her hands squeezing the mounds made her nipples hard.  She spread her thighs as she felt the moisture between her legs.  Maybe she should shave herself bare, she though as she eyed the triangle patch just above her mound.  With a feeling of doing something, shaving her pussy, made her feel almost naughty, she smiled and strode with determination as if a woman on a mission toward the bathroom.

She turned on the water and it sputtered and spit but eventually settled into a steady stream of clear water. She felt it get nice and hot with the steam billowing at the top.  She gingerly stepped into the shower and let the water dance across her smooth pale skin and it felt wonderfully hot as she closed her eyes and dropped her head back into the stream, letting it pelt down on her face before it raced over her curves and down the drain. She shampooed her thick, brown hair letting her fingernails dig into her scalp  before reaching for the bar of lavendar soap.  Ayden rolled the bar over in her hands making it lather, sniffing the bar of soap and filling her senses of Meg, smiling.  She thought of Meg as she let the bar slide across her stomach; how Meg always smelled of lavendar. Slowly she led the bar in circles around her breasts and areola teasing her nipples with the edge of the bar. The hot water hitting the tops of her breasts making them nicely red as she used the bar to tease her now erect nipples.  She guided the small bar down her belly circling at her belly button before descending between her thighs to slowly run along her pussy lips and back up to her dripping mound of pussy hair.  She built a nice lather on the triangle patch and reached for her razor slowly removing all remnants of hair making herself smooth as a baby.  Ayden positioned herself under the stream so it washed all the hair away and felt the pulsating jets hit her clit as she opened her legs.  Letting the water rinse over her body. Turning off the water she opened the door letting the air hit cooling her and causing her hard nipples to send a tingly sensation to her pussy.  She never used a towel, and it wouldn't have mattered for she noticed it was crumpled and wet, indicating that Meg had at least been there for a few minutes this morning. She kicked the towel over to the sink and stood on it, dripping water over the floor and she opened the door causing the steam to rush out and cool air to rush in and around her naked form.

Standing before the mirror she swiped away the steam that had collected there and ran a comb quickly through her hair, tugging and pulling out the knots and making it smooth and straight before she pulled it up in a tight ponytail.   She reached for the baby oil.  She knew it is a bit old fashioned and she would pay for the abuse to her skin when she was a little older but she loved the way the oil felt against her skin.  She slowly rubbed just a bit over her skin in a sensous slow manner as if she had all the time in the world. Feeling her fingers and palm glides slowly over her curves. She absently massaged in the last of the oil around her areolas and paying special attention to her hardened nipples thinking of the men in her life and how she loved it when a man sucked and nibbled with his teeth dragging over her nipples.  A sweet smile arose across her face as she enjoyed how her sensitive nipples were so directly connected to her pussy.

Her daydream ending as she caught her reflection in the mirror, bringing her back to reality.  Ayden grabbed her little blue bikini, hanging on the rack and slipped it on.  Sliding on her panties she slowly massaged her smooth skin where her pussy hair once had been and grinnned, mishceiveiously.  As Ayden passed through the bedroom, on her way to the kitchen, she snagged her old familiar college T-shirt, which often substituted for a nightshirt.  It was still lying on the end of the bed and she threw it on, over her bikini.  She walked into the kitchen humming the old Beach Boys’ song, “Fun, Fun, Fun” but got stuck on the chorus and could not remember the rest of the words. She located an apple and two peaches which would have to do for breakfast and lunch, tucking them deep inside of her bag as she headed out the door to the beach.

The beach was only half a block away and as soon as the door was closed she could smell the cool salt water calling to her.  There were little tourist boutiques lining all of the streets along the beach.  They sold everything from snow cones to tourist T-shirts proclaiming, “My grandma and grandpa went to the beach and all I got was this silly tee.”  There were little cafes with small tables lined up in front and bars that seemed quiet during the day, but drew large crowds at night. At the very corner, right across the street from the beach access was even an old LP record shop that had bongo drums hanging from the awning out front.  She wondered if the shop had been there since the 1960s. 

The beach was busy this late morning, but not as jammed, packed crowded as it would get over the weekend.  So she found a nice location and laid out her towel on the white sand.  The sand was already getting warm, and her toes were burning from the walk over and standing in the sand while getting everything set up.  She headed directly to the water’s edge to soak them in the cool surf.  Oh she loved the smell of the ocean, and the roar of the waves.  She stood in the cool water her toes playing with the sand watching each wave roll in one at a time.  The surfers were sitting on their boards, lined up like toy soldiers standing sentry waiting for the perfect wave.  They were doing their best to find the perfect wave, but this morning the waves seemed small causing the surfers to sit on their boards padding in the deep water far away from the beach.  It was so hot and with the small waves, and the surfers way out in the deep water, she was sure it would be safe to venture out of the shallow water to get her whole body cool.  She gingerly stepped a little deeper always fearful for she was not a good swimmer. Actually she barely could swim.  Ever slowly, Adyn creeping further into the water until she had to hop a little for each wave as it rolled towards the beach.  She laughed at herself and enjoyed the feeling of being a little kid again playing in the surf.  She had gone further than she ever had before and probably further than she should have, but the water made her feel so alive as it encircled her.  She turned to check on her unattended bag on the beach when an unusually large wave caught her from behind and spun her over.  Her head was pulled under and she tossed and tumbled like she had been thrown into a washing machine.  Her head hit something and she felt dazed. She could not find the surface.  She was not even sure if she was right side up or upside down.  The waves seemed to be crash in on her as they tossed her over and over.  She started to panic! For a moment her head was above water she gasped for air.  But as quickly as the air appeared it was gone again, and she was swallowing a mouthful of saltwater.  She fought frantically clawing for the surface, for another small gulp of air.  Her lungs burned.  All she could see were bubbles and green foam all around her.  Surely, she had thought, someone had to have seen her go under.  Someone would pull her free, but no hand of rescue reached out to her.  Slowly the green water had faded to black.

Chapter 2: Just Another Day at the Beach

Ayden heard voices. They were all around her.  She slowly opened her eyes as she felt the wet sand against her cheek and lips; the gentle surf washing against her ankles.  Her body felt sore and stiff.  Slowly opening her eyes she moaned and closed her eyes against the brilliant blinding sun.  She pushed up on one hand and too weak she just rolled over her aching body facing upward. 

Ayden hears a woman ask, “Is she alive?”

Opening her eyes, Ayden heard the voice of a small boy very near her face says, “Look mommy she moved and her eyes are opening.”  She feels the sensation of someone running a finger slowly down her arm, the fingernail gently skimming the surface of her skin and as she carefully opens her eyes she sees a small boy put the finger in his mouth, eagerly licking at the nail bed, before making a face and trying to spit out the foul flavor which must be from the baby oil she put on before coming to the beach.

The horrified mother gasps and grabs the small boy by the arm pulling him away from the crowd, indignantly scolding him, “Mason!  You cannot just go around licking people that you do not know!”  Trailing off as she storms up the beach with her son in tow Ayden can hear her complain, “Someone really should do something about these girls on the beach”

An elderly woman to her right chastises, “Wyatt, do something about this.”

Suddenly there are hands lifting her into a sitting position.  Then comes the stinging slap to her face.  The elderly man, Wyatt, has just slapped her gently, but not softly enough, and the slap is enough to bring her into a full upright position, her eyes wide open in shock and he is standing over her looking down at her with concern asking, “Are you alright?”

Ayden looks up at him puzzled answering, “I think so,” as her hand rises to rub the sore cheek, sure that it has left a mark.

The elderly woman is smoothing Ayden’s ponytail back away from her face and inquiring, “Did you do this on purpose or have you just arrived?  Where do you live?”

By this time Ayden is on her feet and brushing away a bit of loose sand from her hands, “No, no, I just slipped and I am staying…” as she raised her hand to point in the direction of the beach house, she notices the shops look different and the record store was not there.  On this corner stands an old style, corner market with fruit displayed in boxes lining the front of the store.  Confused she stammers, “I… I… um,” looking up and down the beach front for something familiar.  As she struggles to figure out how far she is from the beach house the crowd begins to disperse, many of them shaking their heads, some looking back at her with pity in their eyes but most focusing their gaze on their feet as they trundle through the deep black sand back to their own activities.  “Wait!” she frantically calls out to them but not even the elderly couple will look back to help.

Searching for any marker along the shore that looks familiar she sees a jogger coming towards her, but before she can utter a word he alters his path and jogs around her.  As he races past her he slaps her firmly on the derrière, so hard he nearly knocks her over again.  She instantly grabs her behind and rubs the burning sensation, looking towards the man who is still jogging down the beach but is now running backwards smiling and shaking his finger at her.  Confused , she is not sure why but she blushes  at his shaking finger. 

To her left is a group of young men, about her age, laughing loudly and passing a football back and forth.  Still feeling a little dazed she approaches them rubbing her ass from the slap, and she calls out quietly, “Excuse me, can you help me?”

The man with the ball plants it firmly on his left hip holding it casually in place with his wrist and he smiles as he strides over to her.  He is tall and tanned, with dark hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate. She had not noticed how attractive he was until he smiled at her.  The muscles of his arms are not the sort you see on men who spend too much time worrying about how they look, but they are the kind of muscles only a man who is very athletic would have.  Her eyes are drawn to the strong muscles of his chest.  There is just a touch of dark hair in the center and a matching bit just below his belly as it slides down into his bathing suit between the prominent ‘V’ of his hipbones.  His three friends approach behind him.  They are equally athletically built, with varying hair and eye color, but each one as attractive as the man with the football.  Her breath catches in her throat as they approach.  She blushes and drops her eyes to their feet as she sees she has been caught admiring their physiques.  The man with the football reaches her first and in a deep voice says, “Sure, what kind of help do you need?” simultaneously his free hand comes up and softly cups the underside of her full breast, squeezing it.

Ayden’s hand instinctively jerks up to push it away as she takes a step back losing her balance, in the soft sand, and landing in the waiting arms of the tallest of the quartette; the blond with the deep blue eyes.  She had not noticed him circling around behind her.  He stands her up his hand pulling her up from her armpits as his fingers press on her breasts and with her back still held tightly against his strong chest he whispers in her ear, “Naughty, naughty you little spitfire and what are you doing down here all alone?” as he deftly spins her quickly around and presses  her torso against his waist pinning her there, bent at the middle, with his arm firmly holding her in place.  Quickly her feet are kicked apart and three swift ‘whacks’ land hard on her firm ass.  The first one makes her cry out in surprise, it lands hard and the hand is large, nearly covering both sides  of her cheeks in one strike.  The second one comes before she can catch her breath as she tries to squirm away from it, so it lands on one side sending a sharp sting followed by a warm heat that spreads slowly over the surface of her skin. She slowly raises her face to the crowd of men realizing that all eyes on the beach are turned towards her.  Many of the men have stopped building sand castles with their children and are standing with their arms crossed nodding their approval at the young men surrounding and scolding her.  The women are smiling and trying to distract the younger of the children away from the scene at the shore.  What is going on, Ayden thinks, as the third strike,  the hardest of all, sends her to her knees as tears form in the corners of her eyes.  Ayden is panting as she is righted, the blond still holding her in place with a big strong hand on each of her upper arms as he slowly whispers in her ear, “What do you say to the nice man?” His one hand massaging her sore cheek as she feels his hot breath on her face.

Ayden’s mouth gapes open, dumbfounded.  Her mind is racing trying to make sense of what is happening to her and why she is being assaulted.  Her mouth pops opens and closes so that she looks like one of the guppies in the pet shop.

The tall dark haired man just laughs and waves the blond off, “Danny, it’s okay.  Don’t worry about it.  We are just here to have a little fun.  Hell, we didn’t even ask her permission first.”

The blond, Danny, relaxes his hold on her arms and turns her around to face him.  With his thumb he gently reaches up and swipes away a tear from her cheek, and asks quietly “Are you okay now?  Feel better?”

Ayden can do nothing but bob her head forward slightly.

Danny cocks his head to one side and brings his hand up to cup his ear saying, “What?  I did not hear that.”

Ayden is able to gulp out a squeaky, “Yes.”

Danny does not let go of his grip, in fact, it tightens slightly as he corrects her drawing out a, “Sir….”

Ayden’s mouth falls open in shock and her eyes are as wide open as a child who has just had their lollipop ripped from their hand.  In barely more than a whisper she manages to choke out, “Yes, Sir?”

Danny’s face lights up in a bright beaming smile as he pats her on her just spanked sore bottom releasing her arms saying, “See that is a good little spitfire.”  The tall dark haired man and his two friends have already gone back to their patch on the sand tossing the football around and Danny follows behind them. 

As Ayden looks along the beach all faces are on her.  She looks at her witnesses and feebly attempts to get their attention. “Excuse me.  Could someone please…,” but before she can finish her sentence they have all gone back to what they were doing before and are too preoccupied to offer her any assistance.

Unsure of where she is and completely baffled by the behavior of the people on the sand she turns to search for her towel and bag. First  looking over her shoulder to be sure the four men are focused on their football game and not attempting to sneak up on her to spank her ass again.  She heads away from them.  As she is glancing at them the tall blond catches her gaze and gives her a wink as a gleaming smile spreads across his face.  She quickly turns her eyes forward feeling the blush rising in her cheeks.  For some reason she enjoyed the spanking and she is puzzled as to why.  Ayden raises a hand and touches her cheeks feeling the heat and wipes away the wetness of the remaining tears wishing she did not blush so easily.  She then feels the heat radiating through her bottom and thinks those cheeks must have a bright pink blush, as well, and rubs at the heat, tugging to reposition her bikini into place as she searches for her towel.  The black beach stretches on as far as she can see.

Still struggling to make sense of all that has happened; Ayden looks around searching the sand for some familiar landmark, something that will point her in the right direction.  When her stomach rumbles, she instantly brings one hand up to stop the noise and uses the other hand to shade her eyes from the sun as she searches the sky and guesses it is getting late in the afternoon, but she is not prepared to trust any of her senses, at least not yet.  Ayden wishes she had eaten something before getting into the water this morning and wonders just how long she was in the water.  The heat of the day is radiating down from her scalp and she knows she cannot go much further; her mouth is feeling dry and she can still taste the salt water she must have swallowed.  As she scans the beach trying to determine which way to go, she looks back to where the elderly couple, the families, and the young men were gathered on the beach and decides not to go back that way.  She does not know where to turn.  Off in the distance she sees a pier with what looks like a considerable amount of activity and begins the long trudge down the beach towards the pier.

Chapter 4: Training (Possession?)

Ayden obediently complies, quickly dropping the ladle back into the bucket making a slight plopping sound and splashing droplets of water onto the floor.  The old man tilts his head and shakes it.  Ayden is almost sure she sees him roll his eyes at her, but there is a smile on his face.  “Are you in a hurry, Girlie?” he asks, sounding amused and making her blush.  “Come over here and tell me what you think of this,” he says as he takes the piece of metal he has been working on and holds it out in her direction.

“It is very pretty,” she stammers, “but what is it?”

“It is a collar.  Please, put it on,” he tells her very directly.

Ayden just stands there perplexed.  Slowly, she extends her hand to take it, but then withdraws from the glittery gold collar.  Her hand flutters up to rest at her neck.  “You mean like a dog collar,” she hesitates and then adds, “for humans?” her voice rising to a high squeak, purely out of surprise.

The old man smiles and nods his head in approval, “Yes, but this one is special.”

“How?” she asks inquisitively, twisting her head to get a better look at the delicate scrolls of gold that wind around beautiful pink jewels.  She has never seen anything quite like it.  It is beautiful and she suddenly longs for it to be hers.

“You will have to put it on to see,” he teases.

As she reaches out to touch it he snatches it out of her reach.  Ayden looks up at him, shocked, feeling the disappointment wash over her, but then she sees the smile spread across his face as he begins to chuckle.  She cannot help but smile too and eventually starts to laugh along with him.  His laugh is pleasant and infectious.  When they have both had a good laugh and the mood has calmed he looks her in the eye and inquires, “Are you now ready to do as you are asked and put this on?”  Ayden simply nods at him unable to hold back her smile.

When he motions for her to move closer she takes a step forward and he reaches behind her and fastens the collar around her neck securing it in place.  Her hand instinctively reaches up to touch it as the cold metal begins to warm against her skin.  The gentle old man leans back in his chair, his arms folded, appraising his handiwork.  “It suits you,” he says simply.  Ayden blushes and cannot hold his gaze; her eyes drop to his feet, but she can feel him still looking at her.  She peeks up through her lashes to see if he is still watching her just in time to catch his eyes slide over the curves of her body.  Feeling subconscious she tugs at the bottom of her tee shirt willing it to cover just a little more; to hide herself from his analytical eyes that are studying her; looking through her to her very soul; drawing her to him.

“What?” she finally blurts out, angry at her cheeks that she can feel turning red and angry at her nipples that are growing hard, and angry at the desire growing between her legs that she does not even understand.

“Nothing,” he stops again just watching her, “It is just that you are one of the most perfect visions of a vessel submissive that I have seen in many years.  I want to possess you and it would please me if you would call me Master; Master Hunter.  Will you do that?”

A lump forms in Ayden’s throat making it impossible to speak.  Here is a man she has just met and he is asking her to wear a collar and to call him Master.  She thinks to herself, “Did he just call me a vessel sub too?”  Her mind swirls and she feels like she is tumbling under the waves again.  The yearning in her belly wins the battle raging in her and she manages to choke out, “Yes,” meekly.

“I am sorry I did not hear that,” he says putting a hand to his ear and leaning forward again.

Ayden clears her throat, swallowing hard, and tries again a little louder, “Yes,” she manages, but it is a meager attempt.

Again he is shaking his head at her and Ayden bites her lower lip.  “No, no,” he says, a little frustration edging into his voice, “You will address me as Master Hunter every time you speak to me,” he explains emphasizing, “Master Hunter.”

She pauses rolling the words around in her mind and smiles sweetly towards him.  Finally finding her speech again replies in a soft voice, “Yes Master Hunter,” feeling amazingly fulfilled at that moment.

“That is much better.  It is late and we will begin your training in the morning, but for now do you have any questions for me?” he inquires of her.

“Yes, a million,” she says.  “I just don’t know what they are yet,” she admits.  He just smiles at her, waiting silently, one eyebrow arching making the wrinkles in his forehead stand out, until she remembers and corrects herself, “Yes, Master Hunter, I have a million questions, but do not know where to start,” then suddenly a question occurs to her.  She asks, “Master Hunter, why do you want me to call you Master Hunter?  I thought your name was Laothoe.”

“Why would you think that?” he asks puzzled.

Turning and pointing towards the front of the shop she says, “The sign out front.  It says Lathe’s Artisan.”  She turns back to him as he arches his eyebrow at her again and she gulps out, “Master Hunter… Sir.”

“Better,” he says with a smile. “Laothoe was my mother.  She was a wonderful woman who raised four strong sons, but she always adored delicate precious things, which were not easy to find in a home full of brawling boys.  When I opened my shop I could think of no other name than one that would honor her, her strength, and all that she taught me.  It is a little play on words.  I was her youngest and her Artisan,” he explains.

“Oh that is sweet, Master Hunter,” Ayden coos.

“Oh don’t you let my soft heart fool you, Girlie.  As a Master I am tough as nails.”  Ayden swallows hard, her eyes getting large and just nods.  “Now, it is late and I still want to stop off for a little drink on my way home.  You will stay here tonight.  Come with me.”

He gets off his stool and moves towards the back of the workshop, stepping around dusty crates that are stacked around large pillars that support the sagging roof.  In the back of the workshop he stoops and adds some wood to an antique barrel stove.  Next to the stove is a large mass that looks a bit like an old circus tent.  It is covered by an old sooty dust cloth.  Master Hunter disturbs the tarp and a cloud of black dust billows up over the pile before him.  He waves his hand and waits for the dust to settle before removing the cloth and revealing an ornate gilded cage.  Ayden draws in a sharp breath as she takes in the rectangular shape.  It has gold bars and a top that slowly angles upward to the center where a gold ring hangs limp in a clasp.  Ayden tries but cannot suppress a grin as she looks at it thinking how much it looks like a giant gold cupcake.  On the front is a door with a delicate gold lock that is etched with intricate scrolls similar to the ones on the collar that adorns her neck. 

Master Hunter moves to the cage and removes the lock, opening the door, and silently gestures for her to climb inside.  Ayden considers the cage and then looks up at Master Hunter her eyes wide in fear and shakes her head slightly, as she feels her stomach double up in knots.  He merely points, silently, to the cage again and as he does his lips pinch into a thin line and the crease between his eyebrows narrows.  Slowly Ayden inches forward, bending at the waist and pokes her head inside the cage.  It is large and there is plenty of room for her inside.  There is a soft floral colored cushion in the bottom and the heat from the stove warms her skin making her feel the fatigue of the day more significantly.  Sudden there is a sharp sting on the back of her thighs that she has come to be very familiar with over the course of the day.  This had the effect that Master Hunter was hoping it would and she quickly scrambles up into the cage and lays her head on the silky white pillow that is waiting inside.

Once inside her eyes are already feeling heavy, but she looks up as Master Hunter smiles down on her.  “You will be safe and warm in here through the night.  I will be back early in the morning,” he explains as he reinserts the lock.  On a small hook, on the wall above the cage hangs a gold key; Master Hunter takes it down, turns it in the lock, and places it in his pocket, as he turns to leave.  He has not even gotten to the door when her heavy eyes slide shut to the sounds of the roaring surf.

*  *  *  *  *

The morning rays have barely begun to filter through the yellowing glass panes of the old workshop’s windows when Ayden hears Master Hunter milling around his workbench and whistling a happy tune.  Her eyes are still closed and she relishes the last vestiges of sleep.  Unable to hold back morning any longer she stretches and yawns, pulling back the curtain of sleep.  As she opens her eyes she sees Master Hunter is busy at work.  He has moved the workbench and most of his equipment to the side of the large room leaving an open circle in the middle.  The opening has been cleared and swept clean of any debris that may have fallen to the floor while he worked on his designs.  To one side is a large old wooden chair.  It almost has the appearance of a throne with large finials on either side of the tall back rest.  It is upholstered in a deep burgundy with shiny gold rivets to hold the sleek material in place.  On the floor next to the chair is a dust cloth similar to the one that covered the gilded cage she slept in last night and it makes Ayden wonder what else is hidden under the rest of the dust in the workshop.  In the middle of the circle is a solitary round cream colored cushion that seems out of place among the boxes and tools.  As she is stretching Master Hunter notices her and comes over with a smile on his face.  “Good morning, Sunshine,” he offers cheerfully; pulling the key out of his pocket.  He quickly unlocks the padlock and removes it, opening the door in a swift, smooth movement.

“Please join me out here,” he says gesturing with his hand.

Ayden spins her legs out in front of her, sliding her feet out of the cage and to the floor, careful to duck her head as she shimmies past the door and brings herself into an upright, standing position before Master Hunter.  She stands before him while he studies her.  Feeling his eyes traveling over her makes Ayden nervous and she fidgets slightly shifting from one foot to the other.  As her eyes shyly rise up to meet his, Master Hunter clears his throat and asks, “Have you anything to say to me this morning?”

Ayden blinks, still working the night’s sleep out of her body and looks up into the kind eyes of the old man standing before her as the memories of the previous day come flooding back into her mind.  This old man who has asked her to call him Master Hunter is patiently waiting for her to speak as she frantically searches for words to fill her suddenly dry mouth. “Good morning, Master Hunter,” she offers at last.

A broad smile fills his face and he chuckles, “Good morning to you too pretty little thing,” as he softly pinches her chin.  “Did you sleep well last night?  Where you warm enough?”

Sure that yesterday was only a dream Ayden can only nod her assent remembering all that has happened. 

“You look hungry, Girlie,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

She clears her throat and quietly responds, “Yes, very,” as she bobs her head vigorously.

“Hmm?” he simply stands before her, appraising her and twirling the end of his beard, as if waiting for something.

Ayden drops her head forward, looking at the ground, feeling very rebuked, she mumbles, “Yes I am very hungry Master Hunter.”

“Well why don’t you go out front and pick yourself some more fruit while I finish clearing away all the metal shavings that I have let pile up on this dirty floor,” he says as he reaches for the broom again.

“Yes, Master Hunter,” she agrees, “but would you like to me sweep up for you?  You have been so kind to me.  It is the least that I can do for you,” she offers.

He smiles, a twinkle growing in his eye, and replies, “No you go get something to eat.  There will be plenty for you to do for me today.  I am not so old that I do not remember how to push the end of a broom around my own place.”  Ayden smiles at him surprised by his humorous mood this morning and heads towards the front of the shop after Master Hunter turns back to the last of the sweeping that needs to be done.

As Ayden steps out onto the pier she is surprised to see that it is already bustling with activity.  The mist has only just begun to recede back towards the ocean, but vendors are scurrying to prepare their shops for the onslaught of tourists that will soon fill the beach, to enjoy another beautiful summer’s day.  On the sand there are, even at this early hour, several umbrellas set out claiming the best locations on the sand closest to the shore.  Out in the water there are surfers searching for the perfect wave.  She breathes in the fresh salt air and shading her eyes, rises up on tiptoe trying to see how far down the beach she can glimpse with the morning light shining against the freshly washed store fronts.  There are cafes, small markets, and dozens of little shops, but none of them look remotely familiar to her.  Climbing up on the bench to retrieve some of the low hanging fruit she worries how far she has wandered from the bungalow she and Meg share.  She manages to snag three of the strange yellow and pink pods from the tree and sniffs the largest one as she steps back down to the pier.  She wonders why she has never seen these before but shrugs and heads back into the workshop.

_________________________

More to come... hopefully soon but  it seems I am very busy lately.