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.”
__________________
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)
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