Stuggling to finish Chapter 4

I have been reading the 50 Shades trilogy and I am finding that my writing is sounding more and more like her writing.  It is making me hate what I am writing and I feel like I am pulling teeth to get anything out.  At this point I am just trying to get the story down and will go back and re-write later.  I am afraid if I do not keep moving forward the image of the story that I have in my mind will be lost.

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Master Hunter fiddles with the box covered in buttons as it sits on the arm of his chair.  His gaze is distant and Ayden watches him.  Without lowering his gaze to her he asks her to, “Please stand before me.” 

As Ayden clambers to her feet Master Hunter picks up the small box and studies it, deeply caught up in his thoughts.  He takes in a deep breath and sets his resolve, “Now the collar you are wearing is a training collar.”  He looks up at her and she sees something in his eyes, a change in his mood, but she is not sure what it is.  “Some like to set them higher than needed, but you know that I will not hurt you.  Right?”

Ayden’s gaze flits between Master Hunter’s face and the mysterious box in his hand.  She quickly studies the box and raises her hand to touch the delicate metal wrapped around her neck.  She nods and mumbles, “Yes, Master Hunter.”

Master Hunter begins to point to each of the buttons and explain what each one does.  He explains that the lights along the side are indicators for the buttons that are in use and the amount of power being used.  There is a long pause and Ayden waits for him to continue.  When he does continue he tells her that the small box is connected to the collar and that it can make her muscles move.  That he can position her using the box in any way that he wants using a small electrical charge. 

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.

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To continue to Chapter 2: http://jssince2012.blogspot.com/2012/11/chapter-2-just-another-day-at-beach.html  (or just look to the list at the right of the screen)

Chapter 2: Just Another Day at the Beach

Even before she opened her eyes Ayden could hear voices.  They were all around her.  She could feel the wet sand against her cheek and lips; the gentle surf washing against her ankles.  Slowly opening her eyes and pushing up on one hand just rolling her aching body over takes all the effort she can muster.  She moans and closes her eyes against the brilliant sun threatening to blind her.

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

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 it 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 white 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 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 behind her.  As he races past behind 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.  She is not sure why but she blushes and returns his infectious smile.

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 and 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.  It is obvious he has spent some time on the beach.  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 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 breast.

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 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 holds 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 bottom.  The first one makes her cry out in surprise, it lands hard and the hand is large, nearly covering both sides 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.  It is now that she raises her face to the crowd 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 scolding her now.  The women are smiling and trying to distract the younger of the children away from the scene at the shore.  The third strike is the hardest of all and her knees buckle 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?”

Ayden’s mouth gapes open, dumbfounded.  Her mind is racing trying to make sense of what is happening to her and where she is.  Her mouth pops open and closed so that she looks like one of the guppies in the pet shop that stood on Main Street, of her hometown when she was a young girl.

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 the 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 and Danny follows behind them. 

As Ayden looks along the beach all faces are on her.  “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, but not before looking over her shoulder to be sure the four men are focused on their football game and that she is heading 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.  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 beach stretches on as far as she can see.

Ahead of her she can see the light blue, sloped-roof of a life guard tower and begins working her way towards it.  It is a simple wooden structure with windows on three sides, a door in the front, with a ramp leading up to it, and a deck that runs along the side facing the shore, where the life guard can stand under the over-hang that provides a little shade during the heat of the day.  The entire building is supported by wooden pillars which keep it up off the ground so the life guard can see out over the crowds.  It all looks about as cliché as her bathroom back at the beach house, except at the base of the tower, where the four pillars support the small room, there is iron meshing on all four sides and a small opening where a metal gate hangs askew from one hinge.  Around the outside of the tower are small wooden posts that stand about as tall as her waist.  The posts surround the life guard tower and stand about 1 meter apart from each other and are about 1 meter from the base of the light blue tower so that they form a little square of twenty-one posts.  Each post is topped with a black iron ring and there is a man using a heavy grinder on some of the rings that appear to have begun to rust.  As she approaches he stops his work and grins up at her with his toothless smile.  She takes a step back, but as he chuckles and returns to his work she presses forward to the young man positioned on the front deck of the tower.  At the base of the ramp leading up to the deck she calls out to the life guard who looks down at her and smiles as he turns and goes back inside the small room.  Hesitantly, she climbs the ramp calling out, “Hello?” hoping to draw the lifeguard’s attention.  Reaching the top she peers through the doorway and he is sitting on a small stool at a table that is stacked with first aid equipment.  Ayden smiles and breathes a sigh of relief and quietly asks, “Excuse me but could you please help me.  I seem to be lost.”

The life guard smiles and motions for her to enter the small room.  Once inside there is barely enough room for the two of them.  He looks up at her and says, “Won’t your please have a seat?”  Ayden quickly looks around but the life guard is sitting on the only seat in the room.  He leans forward, with one hand on his right knee and on the left knee he has his elbow propped up with his palm facing up slowly extending out in her direction.  She is still looking for a seat, scanning from her right where the orange lifebuoy hangs on a nail and to the left where a small refrigerator sits in the corner when she feels his fingertips press softly against her knees.  Startled she looks down at his hand and tries to back up, but her back is against the door, and as she does her legs open slightly allowing his hand to gently slide between her knees.  Her mouth falls open in silent protest as she looks from the hand up into the man’s face.  His gentle blue eyes are looking up sideways at her waiting, when he clears his throat and impatiently asks, “Well?”

Quickly looking around the room again Ayden chuckles softly and says quietly, “I do not see a chair.”

“I have offered you my hand.  Now please bend your knees outward and kindly have a seat like a polite young lady would when a seat is offered to her,” he softly scolds her.  Whether it is the heat of the day, nearly drowning, or the strange way that people are behaving she finds herself slowly bending her knees and lowering herself down just as she has been asked to do.  Once she is awkwardly balanced on his outstretched hand, just the thin layer of her bikini between his warm flesh and the moisture that is barely hidden away in the folds of her own he leans close to her face, still smiling and asks, “What is it you need help with again?”

Flustered and blushing Ayden stumbles over her words quickly trying to get her story out.  Trying to explain that she had nearly drown and she was lost and could not find her way back, but her words just fall out in a frantic jumble.  The life guard just smiles at her, obviously amused.  Looking her directly in the eye, holding her gaze as his outstretched hand begins to slowly close over her mons he brings his other hand up to cover her mouth and he lets out a deep low, “Shhh.”  Immediately, she stops talking and takes in a deep breath of air, letting it out slowly, finally feeling her body relax as a tingling begins to radiate up from her belly.  She knows that she should not, but his strong hand feels good against her body and she does not dare move, but instinctively kisses the hand that was still holding her silent.  Gradually, the hand that is grasping her releases and the life guard tells her to stand.  She silently obeys his command.  He stands up, as she does, and smiles down at her, “Now then, we are closed today as you can see from the repairs going on outside,” there is a quick slap on her rear as he continues, “so now off with you young lady.”  Bewildered she slowly inches back down the ramp looking over her shoulder as the life guard shoos her away with the back of his downturned, open fingertips that where only a few moments ago wrapped so snuggly around her.

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.  Ayden looks longingly at the life guard tower she just left.  She wonders at the captivating life guard and the enthralling effect he had on her.  She knows she cannot return there for help, but 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.

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To continue to Chapter 3: http://jssince2012.blogspot.com/2012/11/chapter-3-pier.html (or just look to the list at the right of the screen)

Chapter 3: The Pier

The music and noise from the pier can be heard long before she reaches it.  Even from a distance Ayden can make out the smells and excitement of a carnival.  Once on the pier she is surrounded by a swirling mass of people.  She tries but cannot get even one person to draw their attention away from the sights of the carnival attractions to help her. 

She pushes her way forward through the crowd and can hear the barker announcing that it is time for everyone to, “Step right up and see the beautiful assistant being tied to the wheel.”  As Ayden edges her way to the front of the mass watching the show she is shocked that the beautiful assistant is not just strapped to a large wheel, that is painted in red and yellow pie slices, but she is also naked.  The lovely girl is held tightly in place by leather straps at her wrists and ankles, a third pair that runs under her arms at her shoulders, and a final pair that skirts around the top of her thighs holding her very securely in place.  She is a strikingly beautiful girl with short dark hair and even darker mysterious eyes.  Her deep crimson lips are set off by skin that is a swarthy olive tone and has been oiled so that it shines in the bright afternoon sun.  A large man steps forward and bows to the crowd as they cheer and applaud.  He gestures to the lovely assistant and the crowd responds even louder. 

A boy steps up to the wheel and when the large man nods to him the boy takes a tight grip on the wheel and with all his might sets the wheel spinning and the lovely assistant with it.  She spins head over heels as the crowd quiets.  Ayden cannot take her eyes off the spinning girl when suddenly there is a loud pop that makes her jump.  She has always hated the sound of balloons popping, but as she turns her attention back to the large man she sees that he has removed a long whip from his belt and has unfurled it onto the ground.  It is stretched out before him and as he shakes it out it almost appears to slither across the ground like a snake.  He snaps it again and the crowd “Oohs.”  Ayden expects the man to pull the knives from his belt but they stay protected in their sheaves.  He raises his arm and with a heavy flick of his wrist the end of the whip is sent sailing through the air towards the lovely assistant.  Ayden gasps loudly as the whip connects perfectly with the spinning girl leaving a heavy red mark that runs from her hip, diagonally up, perfectly laid between her soft breasts, and stops just short of her collar bone.  The crowd, “Awes,” and one lady not too far from Ayden buries her face in the shoulder of the man standing next to her. 

The boy brings one finger to his lips, signaling for everyone to be quiet and the carnival barker instructs the crowd that, “This is a very dangerous task and there must be silence so that Master Merlin the Magnificent can concentrate.” 

As a hush falls back over the crowd the large man, Merlin, waves the whip across the ground so that it slithers back and forth and before Ayden is prepared the whip is raised and snapped again against the assistant’s skin.  A perfect red ‘X’ is raised in welts across her front as the second line begins to show, both welts meeting together between her breasts.  The crowd erupts in thunderous applause and Merlin takes his bows.  After his bow Merlin coils the whip and replaces it on his belt, and in a flourish he removes the knives that hang there.  Merlin then begins to juggle then over his head and takes aim at the beautiful assistant.  The crowd begins to spin and Ayden feels suddenly faint.  Fearing what she might see, Ayden pushes her way through the crowd to fresh clean air.  Free of the crowd she hears the barker calling to the crowd to thank Merlin the Magnificent and his lovely girl for their performance, but Ayden moves away as quickly as she can.

Ayden smells it before she sees the hotdog stand directly in her path.  Her stomach begins to howl, as if on cue.  There is a large sign above the stand and in bright bold letters it reads, “Hot Dogs” on the left of the sign and, “Corn Dogs” on the right, and between the two is a picture of a coin that has the words, “5 Tokens,” emblazoned on a painted ribbon across its middle.  Ayden licks her lips instinctively, looking longingly through the windows of the stand.  The stand has windows that stretch across the front from one end to the other.  There are small opens where the workers can stick out their head to take orders.  The large windows give a clear view of the cooking area inside.  From where she stands she can watch one of the workers, who is wearing a sheer uniform, while she adds new hotdogs to the ones already spinning over the flames.  The juice from the hotdogs drips making it appear as if the flames are dancing up to lick the juice away.  Another worker is slowly dipping hotdogs into the corn batter and as she brings them up the gooey mess drips down her arm and across the counter to where she slides them into the waiting deep fryer.  Unaware Ayden has slipped into the line and has reached the front.  The attendant at the window impatiently asks, “Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to order something?”

Ayden looks up in shock; surprised by the attendants loud outburst.  She looks around at the crowd staring at her and mumbles, “I am sorry I have lost my belongings and I don’t have any money on me.”

Impatiently the attendant explains, “If you have no tokens you will need to get out of the line until you have some.  There are people waiting who already have their tokens.” “Now move!” he says in a loud stern voice.

Ayden steps back out of the line fighting the tears of exhaustion and hunger when she feels a soft tap on her shoulder.  Spinning around she comes face to face with a well groomed businessman who asks her, “I could not help over hearing your conversation.  Are you hungry?  I can help.  You see we take care of our girls in this town.”  Ayden nods as she uses the back of her hand to dab at the moisture that has formed at the corner of her eyes. “Just follow me around back then.  The girls’ stands are back there,” he explains as he rounds the edge of the stand.  Ayden quickly follows the man grateful for his kind help.

Behind the stand are several picnic tables.  At one of the tables there are two men caught in an arm wrestling battle.  The crowd is cheering them on and at the feet of the larger man is a strikingly beautiful woman who is kneeling naked with her arms wrapped lovingly around his leg and her head is propped on his knee watching the battle serenely.  The businessman does not stop to watch, but seems to pass the scene unnoticed.  Mixed through the crowd are other girls, most in bikinis but all kneeling on the ground.  Ayden is craning her neck to watch the scene when she walks right into the back of the businessman.  She turns to him blushing and offers him a shocked apology which he brushes off with a smile saying, “I am sure you will make it up to me,” as he pulls a slightly tarnished gold token from his pocket and offers it to her.  She gingerly reaches out to take the token, but his hand closes around it and he wraps his free hand around her waist and pulls her to him, ”You are a hungry little imp,” he says as he plants a kiss on her cheek.

He releases her and gestures to the large wooden crate they are standing in front of.  It is then that Ayden notices the box is open on the top and in the front.  The three remaining upright sides each have a hole cut in them that seems to have padded material protecting the rough cut edges.  On the floor of the crate is a fabric cushion and a small bowl.  Ayden looks from the crate to the businessman; only then registering there is an identical crate next to it.  There are men standing all around the crate watching and cheering like at the arm wrestling table but, just barely, between the crowd she is able to peer into the opening at the front of the crate.  Inside is a lovely girl in a bikini.  She is kneeling on the cushion and her bowl has several gold tokens nestled in it.  In her hand she has grasped hungrily onto a large man’s penis that is inserted through the fabric hole in the crate.  She is bringing it to her mouth as her head tips back slightly letting her tongue lick at the tip, circling it, and letting the moisture of her tongue leave behind a moist trail on the shiny head.  As her lips gently close on the head in a sensuous kiss the crowd erupts in thunderous cheers.  In the girl’s other hand she is slowly stroking another pulsing shaft that is snuggly pressed through the hole on the other side of the crate.  The veins of the one being slowly massaged pulse as her hand glides over the surface.  At the opening of the crate a man drops another token in the bowl as he frantically peels back the upper portion of his pants, lowering them slightly, revealing a hard and waiting cock that jumps from its cloth prison.  He strokes it quickly himself while she hungrily feeds on the two in her hands.  First taking one into her mouth teasing it with her tongue, only letting it in the slightest bit but then quickly plunging down to the fabric ring on the crate.  Ayden can see the head of the man standing beside the box rear back and she can hear his loud moans as the girl slides her mouth away to focus her kisses on the man protruding from the hole opposite him on the box.  As the girls turns her head, from the left side of the box to face the second man, on the right, there is a loud moan that comes from the man standing at the front of the box, who has been wildly stroking himself and he erupts in a stream of warm liquid.  The thick moisture coats her face and drips off her chin, finally sliding down between her breasts.  She smiles up at him and licks away the moisture on her lips, opens her mouth wide and without taking her eyes off the man who is standing, panting, before her she plunges her mouth on the seething waiting mass in her hand and it too convulses in a spray of warm fluid and spills from the corner of her hungry mouth.  As she gasps for air a man is already shouldering in next to the man at the front of the crate.  She releases the now softening mass and gives if a soft kiss as it disappears back through the hole and with a free hand reaches out to unbuckle the belt of the new man moving in before her.  He too drops a token into the bowl, then leans in whispering something in the girl’s ear making her smile, and moves to the back of the crate to position himself in an available hole.

Ayden feels a pressure on her shoulder pressing her down and she turns her attention back to the businessman standing next to her who is calling out, “Guys we have another hungry girl right here.”  She hears a token clink against the bowl at her feet and watches as three men turn towards her briefly but then return their gaze to the girl in the crate.  Suddenly she feels a hand on her breast and the businessman pinches her nipple hard.  She realizes that while watching the girl in the crate her nipples have hardened into little firm apples and the pinch sends shivers down her spine.  He leans in close to her and slides his free hand under her shirt and caresses her belly and asks in a husky voice, “How hungry are you wild thing?”

“What?” she asks him breathlessly.

He gestures to the cushion, with his upturned palm as he slowly moves in behind the crate and tells her to, “Have a seat, girl.  I will feed that hunger I see in your eyes now.”

Ayden stumbles back, a step away from the crate and the businessman.  She blurts out, “I’m sorry.  I guess I am not that hungry yet.”  When she turns to flee she hears him laughing jovially behind her and she feels the heat raising in her cheeks again as she pushes her way blindly through the crowd of men whose hands reach out to slow her.  She can feel them coarse against her skin and the muscles between her legs tighten.  She slows for a moment, pondering her empty stomach, but presses forward until she is free of the sea of men behind the stand.  Looking back over her shoulder, she glimpse the businessman standing watching her with a smile on his face as he refastens his belt and gives her a little nod.  She nearly turns and goes back to the stand but before she can the man disappears into the crush of men around the girl in the other crate.

At the mouth of the pier Ayden finds a bench in the shade of a tree and drops herself down onto it, exhausted.  She closes her eyes and rests her head against the back of the bench to think.  A smile spreads slowly across her face as she wonders to herself what Meg is doing and what she would do if she were here.  It is just as she is letting her body relax and take in all that has happened that she hears a gravelly voice chortle, “What are you smiling at, Girlie?”  Ayden’s eyes pop open in shock as she registers an elderly man standing before her with one hand on his hip.  He has an unruly beard that has probably not been trimmed in months but he has kind sparkling eyes, with small creases at the edges of his eyes, that are evidence that his large friendly smile is a constant feature.  She can tell by his appearance that he has led a comfortable well fed life and yet he still appears to be very physically fit.  His overalls and shirt are a little shabby, but they are well cared for and kept neat and clean.

There is something about him that unnerves her and she stands instantly and faces him.  She tries to explain, “Oh it is just that you would not believe the day that I have had and I am so hungry.”

Listening intently the elderly man bursts into laughter, “Well then why don’t you open your eyes and pick some fruit to eat, Girlie?” gesturing up into the tree over her head.  “Are you sure you are okay?” he asks with honest concern in his voice.

As Ayden looks up into the tree she sees that it is full of a soft flesh fruit that she does not fully recognize.  She reaches up and tries to grasp one but they are just beyond her reach.  She tries again, up on her tiptoes, but still she is unable to get to the fruit.  She sees the man watching her, a grin spreading over his wrinkled face and showing in his eyes.  “Could you help me please, Sir?” she asks.

The old man just lets out a deep belly laugh and says, “Oh no, Girlie.  This is the most fun I have had all week.  Tell you what.  You keep trying and when you get one you come over and see me and I will give you a little something to drink.”  Still laughing the man wanders off across the pier to a small rustic shop across from the tree and takes a seat kicking up he heals on an old saw horse he has there and picks up a small knife and a piece of driftwood that he begins to whittle away at.

Ayden stretches and jumps but after several attempts she still has not managed to retrieve any fruit from the tree.  Gasping for air she plops her weary body down on the bench to think.  Catching her breath she looks at the ground thinking and then up at the fruit in the tree above her.  She sits there for a moment and then as a smile spreads across her face she brings the palm of her hand up and hits herself softly in the forehead.  Shaking her head and laughing silently she looks over at the old man who is leaning back in his chair watching her and is clearly amused by her antics.  Still smiling she stands up keeping her eyes fixed on the old man, braces herself on the back of the bench and clambers up to stand on the bench.  He grins at her and winks as she easily reaches up into the tree and grabs two of the largest and the ripest of the fruit above her head and jumps off the bench with a triumphant thud.

Ayden saunters across the pier to the old man’s shop.  It is a rustic looking building with an open portico.  There is a roughhewn board hanging over the open front with delicate wrought iron letters spelling out, “Lathe’s Artisan”.  She walks up to the elderly man and holds out one of the pieces of fruit to him.  He raises up his hands; waving her off, “Oh no, those are all yours, Girlie.  You earned them.  Besides they are not really my first choice.  I prefer something that is juicy and sweet all of the way through.”  He takes a deep breath and looks Ayden over and with a deep sigh says, “Alright Girlie, head inside.  There is a bucket in the back.  It does not look like much but the water is cool and clean.  The bucket and ladle are clean too or my work would be ruined.  Go inside and get yourself something to drink and then come on back out here and we will figure out what to do with you.”  As Ayden turns to go inside he swats her on the behind with a chuckle and goes back to working on the driftwood. 

Inside Ayden finds a provincial looking shop with simple antique tools.  She wonders at how ancient his craft must be.  In the back corner she finds an old-style milk jug with a metal ladle hanging off the side.  Scooping up the clear water she puts it to her lips and gulps down several ladles full before her thirst is quenched.  Ayden takes a bite of the fruit she has picked and her mouth is flooded with mouth puckering tartness, but it almost instantly changes to a sweet juicy flavor that fills her mouth with a savory sweetness that is more delicious than anything she has ever eaten before.  She wonders if that is just the effect of being so hungry and takes another large bite, bracing for the bitter flavor, but the tartness seems less biting with the second mouthful.  Very quickly she has managed to inhale half of the fruit and her hunger is beginning to abate.

An elderly hag approaches the shop.  Ayden guesses she must be at least as old as the old man.  The old hag walks with a hobbling gait and when she smiles at the old man Ayden notices she is missing several of her front teeth.  Mindlessly, Ayden ladles up another scoop of water as the hag begins a conversation with the old man.  Curious she moves slightly closer to the front of the shop.  The old woman is giving exhaustive details on a piece of jewelry she wants designed.  After going into great detail of the design style, the clasp, how the chain should hang and even how many links should be included she hands over a beautiful green gem to the old man; chiding him to be careful with it and explaining its inimitable value.

Taking a step forward, ready to join the two at the front of the shop Ayden is stopped in her tracks when the aged hag turns to the old man, running her boney finger down his cheek and nearly purrs, “You know I would love to have you come to work for me.”

The Elderly man arches his eyebrows and in a swift movement that topples his chair he stands over her, his fists balled tightly at his waist and in a thunderous voice, the likes of which Ayden would never expect this jovial man to utter he growls down at the woman, “Work for you? We may have known each other for a very long time, but just who do you think you are speaking to me so disrespectfully?”  Hearing this Ayden tenses and slides back into the shadows not wanting to draw any attention or be noticed.

The hag chokes and clears her throat.  Stammering she corrects herself, lowering her head and dropping into a deep curtsy, “Please do pardon my manners kind Sir.  I, of course, meant that it would honor me greatly if you would leave this meager shop and allow me to serve you by providing you with the most modern of workshops behind my pub.”

As quickly as his mood changed it changes back and the old man relaxes, letting his hands fall loosely to his sides.  With the twinkle returning to his eyes he reaches down, with the crook of his finger, raises her chin up so that she is looking at him and in a much smoother tone he answers to her, “While I do appreciate your offer of service fine lady I much prefer the surroundings here and the ample supply of vessel subs.”

The hag contritely murmurs, “Yes, of course, Sir.  I do see how that would be appealing.  I would be honored if you might stop by, when our business is done or sooner if that appeals to you, and allow me to offer you a large glass my special house ale that you like so well. Just as a small offering to make up for this little misunderstanding, Sir.”

He smiles down at her and running his fingertips over her wrinkled cheek he replies, “That would please me greatly.”  With a nod of her head the aged hag then backs away from the old man and out of the shop where she quickly turns and scurries, hobbling just a little less, down the street.

Without even looking over his shoulder the elderly man chortles, “You can come out of there now, Girlie.”  Ayden timidly approaches him; she can see his eyes are on the aged hag but she can tell they are looking deep into the recesses of his memories.  In a voice that is distant and thoughtful, his hand twisting at the tail ends of his white beard, as he begins, “I watched her come out of the ocean back when we were both not much older than you are now.  She was beautiful then and I cannot figure it out but she is just as beautiful today,” he explains, letting his voice trail off as he disappears back into his own memories.  Not wanting to interrupt his reminiscing Ayden moves closer and stands before him, silently, and he reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, looking at her quickly and then back to the old woman as she disappears around a distant corner. 

“You know when she walked out of the surf, her long red hair dripping down her back I thought I was dreaming.  I had never seen anything quite like her and she was the first vessel sub I had ever seen emerge,” he softly recalls.  “Something in the back of mind keeps telling me that there is something wrong.  I mean look at me, I am an old man and yet she looks as fresh as the day she walked out of the water; still absolutely just as beautiful as the day I claimed her for my own.”  He drops his gaze to the ground shaking his head, “Something just is not right,” he says thoughtfully as he brings the gem up to the sun and turns it over in his fingers letting the light shine through it illuminating green prisms around the shop.  “This little jewel changed everything though.”

“What do you mean?” Ayden barely gets out, fighting the dryness that has suddenly set into her throat.

“Oh, well I offered to take her home with me but she would not hear any of it.  She stayed right here on the pier; and eventually left me to become a crate girl and a good one at that.  She had all the tokens that she could ever want, but they are not good anywhere but here on the pier, you know.”  He pauses and takes in a deep breath letting it out slowly before he carries on with his story, “Then one day she showed up with a handful of gems like this one.  I have no idea how a vessel sub, a crate girl at that, could ever get her hands on a precious stone like this,” he says as he tosses the gem into the air catching it before depositing it in his pocket, and continues, “but there they were tucked in her tight little fist, not one but a whole handful.”  Shaking his head he goes on to tell Ayden, “She walked off this pier and she never came back.  She bought a pub a little way up the road and has a few rooms she rents out on the second floor.  She serves the most amazing house drink there and I am not sure if I go for the ale or in the hopes that I will have the chance to taste her lips just one more time.  I just cannot seem to stay away.”  With what Ayden can only describe as a heartfelt moan he says, “Something just is not right about it all though.”

Coming back to reality the old man taps Ayden on the shoulder, “Now come on you; letting an old man blather on about things that might have been.  We have work to do; now don’t we?”  The old man turns and goes into the workshop with Ayden fast on his heels, but she cannot help stealing a look over her shoulder and looking to the corner where the old hag disappeared and Ayden questions how love can be so blind.

As the old man takes his seat at his workbench Ayden turns her back to the bench, facing the man and quietly asks, “You mentioned that she was a vessel sub.  What is that?”

The old man is twirling a beautiful piece of jewelry around in his hands and with extraordinary skill he molds and fastens small bits of gold and gems to it with incredible dexterity as he smiles at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Girlie, what am I going to do with you?  Did you just land here today?” he chides.  In an almost scolding tone he asks her, “What is a vessel?”

Ayden blinks and replies simply, “A boat? Or maybe a ship of some kind.”

He smiles and picks up another tool and makes fine detailed carvings into the band before looking at her and nodding, “That’s right.  And where do you find boats?”

“On the water,” she replies flatly, clearly not following his line of logic.

“Yes!” he says his eyes beginning to twinkle again, “And if you are not talking about a boat what else can a vessel be?”

Ayden looks off into the distance and as she thinks she slides her hands back onto the smooth wood of the work bench, lifts herself up, and scoots back to sit on the table top beside where he is working, “I am not sure.  Maybe a…,” she stalls, until she sees a delivery man going into a nearby shop with a  jug of water slung over his shoulder and she smiles as she triumphantly says, “a jug!”

The old man chuckles and pats her on the knee, “Very good.  So a vessel is a jug that holds what…?”

Ayden sighs and chews on the inside of her lower lip, “Liquids?”

“You catch on fast, little girl.  So, a vessel is something that can hold precious liquids, like a bucket or pitcher, and it can also come from the sea, like a ship that has slipped its moorings and washes up on the beach,” he pauses and looks over at her, “Are you following me, Girlie?”  When Ayden just shakes her head he puts down the ornate design he is working on and turns to face her, putting his hands on his knees he leans closer to her. “Okay,” he sighs, “Years ago the women of this town, or so the story goes, used to be subservient.  They were proud to do their duty and they were celebrated the world over for their high quality, and were highly desired.  Then things began to change and they wanted to be wives.  They wanted to be treated as equals, but this was not working and neither the men nor the women were happy.  The battle over this raged for centuries and threatened to destroy our way of life here.  Then one day a vessel sub washed up on shore.  Over the course of the following years they started washing up on a regular basis.  There were so many of them, at one point, that some were left to starve on the beach unless they found a way to scavenge for food on their own.  You saw the crate girls.  At times it got so bad that some threw themselves back into the ocean”  He stops for a moment and looks up at her, “If I am going to finish this story I am going to need a drink of water.  Please get a drink from the bucket and bring it here, to me.

Eager to hear the rest of his story Ayden hurriedly jumps from her seat and lands with her bare feet slapping hard against the stone floor of the shop.  She pads over to the bucket and brings up a ladle full of water.  Holding up the long handle, almost to her eye level, with one hand and placing the other under the dipper she carefully carries it over to the old man.  As she reaches out to hand him the ladle, he looks her directly in the eyes, holding her gaze, and lets his lips part slightly.  Unsure of what to do Ayden gingerly presses the ladle to his lips and tips it, allowing the cool water to trickle into his mouth.

Accepting the last of the water from the ladle the old man licks his lips and wipes away the remaining moisture with the back of his hand.  “Do you see?  Vessel subs are intuitively submissive.  They were highly cherished.  Families began taking them into their homes.  The leaders of our city finally acquiesced to the women of the village and allowed them to take an equal place next to their husbands.  The vessel subs were from then accepted as a part of the town and took over the duties the women had previously cared for so diligently.”

A radiant smile spreads across the old man’s face, “When I was just a small boy I would hear stories about men who rescued vessel subs from the surf and how they were bound to each other for life.  The sub would live out her life serving only him.  I hoped for this and as I got older I found myself drawn to this beach.  I eventually opened my shop here, so that I could be here every day.  Then one morning I was here very early, to get a special order filled, and out at the water’s edge I saw her pushed in by the waves.  I ran down to the beach where she lay lifeless.  She was so beautiful laying there with the water lapping at her skin.  I picked her up and brought her here.”  The old man’s gaze drifts over her shoulder and out to the beach.

“The woman who left the stone?” Ayden asks.

The man nods and soulfully replies, “Yes, but it seems I was the only one that felt that bound.”  He clears his throat and lets out a low growl before reprimanding, “Now you are keeping me from getting my work done with all this talking.  There will be no more talk of this.  Put that spoon away and then I want you to come help me with my work.”

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To continue to Chapter 4: http://jssince2012.blogspot.com/2012/11/chapter-4-training-possession.html?zx=6d76bf0263f4ab46  (or just look to the list at the right of the screen)