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.

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