Back on Track?

We will see how good I can be, but I got through Chapter 4.  It is very rough.  I have given up on the endless rewriting.  I just want to get the story out.  I have started on Chapter 5: The Inn.  I hope to have it posted soon.  Is tomorrow too early.  :)  We will have to see.  Is anyone even reading this?  The stats look like I am maybe here all alone.  Oh well, I am used to talking to myself anyway.  Welcome if you are out there looking.  I would love to hear from you.

Chapter 4: Training (Possession?)

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, Babygirl?” 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 surprised at the growing desire between her legs that she does not even understand.  She wonders how this old man could stir up so much arousal in her.  She does not find him attractive and yet her body yearns to be touched by him.

“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 Laothoe’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, Babygirl.  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 eagerly 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, Babygirl,” 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 treats 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. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She turns to the boot before her and squares her shoulders gathering her thoughts.  Her mind is racing.  “How can I do this?” she asks in her mind.  Then she corrects herself and silently asks, “How can I do this right?”  Confidence inspiring her Ayden deliberately and seductively wets her lips with the tip of her tongue, letting her lips part slightly she leans down and lays another kiss on the tip of the boot.  She cautiously runs her tongue over the surface of the toe.  She can detect a faint, sweet, delicious odor that must be her own.  At first, her solitary focus is cleaning the boot and her eyes do not leave it.  She uses her tongue to run circles over the toe, the taste of leather filling her cheeks.  Ayden slowly wraps her hand around the boot drawing herself closer to Master Hunter’s leg, enjoying the feelings growing in her.  She leans in and with her lips parted she lays her mouth over the mound, that is the toe of the boot, and twirls her tongue in circles while stealing a peek up at Master Hunter.  He is leaning back in the chair, with his eyes closed and his arms crossed.   Master Hunter lets out a low moan that makes Ayden smile inside. Abruptly, as Ayden lowers her eyes, Master Hunter, coughs and suddenly sits upright in his chair pulling his boot from her grasp.  It catches Ayden by surprise and nearly topples her onto her face at his feet as the leg she is holding is pulled away from her, but she is able to maintain her balance and quickly sits upright fearing she has done something wrong.

Clearing his throat Master Hunter nods to Ayden and firmly says, “Very well done, Babygirl.  Maybe too well done.”

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 might enjoy using this on a higher setting than needed, but you know that I have no desire to 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 carefully explains what each one does.  He explains that the lights along the left side are indicators for which of the buttons are active and the amount of power being transmitted.  There is a long pause and nervously Ayden waits for him to continue.  When he does resume he tells her that the small box is connected to the collar she is wearing and that it can make her muscles move.  That the box uses a small electrical charge that allows him to position her in any way that he desires.  He hesitantly explains that he is developing this device and has been looking for someone with whom he can test it.  He was going to test it on himself but realized it would be impossible to be both in control of the device and allow his movements to be controlled completely by it.  After all of his reassurances Ayden is still not sure that it is something safe for her to do, but in the end she relents and agrees to allow him to use her body for the tests. 

Ayden watches as Master Hunter pushes several buttons.  At first nothing happens.  He uses a miniature tool to twist a small dial inside and closes the box and repeats the same buttons.  This time Ayden giggles, feeling as if she is being tickled over several parts of her body, like being rubbed with little feather dusters, and she is suddenly thrown to the floor in a heap.  She groans, but is fortunate that her face lands on the small cushion she had been sitting on earlier.  She cannot move or even look up, she is locked in this position, but she hears Master Hunter’s frustrated sigh and the sound of the box being popped open again.  Her face planted on the pillow, this time she does not feel anything except what feels like a slight breeze blow over her and gradually her limbs bend and adjust until she is kneeling on her hands and knees. Slowly, without any effort on her part she begins to crawl across the freshly swept floor of the workshop.  It is a measured, graceful movement.  She tires with her mind to will her limbs to stop, but she is unable to cease her forward movement.  She watches in amazement at how elegantly her body moves.

Ayden finds the feeling a little peculiar; to have no choice in the movement of her own body.  She knows that she would willingly do this to please Master Hunter.  She watches astounded, but she is happy for the chance to help him with his project and he seems to be enjoying watching her, as she can hear him chuckle.  She makes a large circle around the open area in the middle of the room and returns to stop before Master Hunter’s feet.

Again she feels a slight breeze blow over her skin and the tiny hairs on her arm stand up.  She effortlessly feels her body rise up on her knees and then gently to a standing position.  Master Hunter is standing directly in front of her wearing a very self-satisfied grin.  She smiles back at him feeling as if she has finally been able to repay a small token of the kindness he has shown her.

“This is going so much better than I ever could have imagined,” he declares.  “Now, I want you to stand for inspection.  Your feet spread wide, your arms crossed behind your head, and your eyes on the ceiling,” he instructs as he watches her, gripping the small box with pride.

Ayden swallows and mumbles, “Yes, Master Hunter,” raising her eyes to stare at the large beams that hold up the roof and feeling very vulnerable.  She blushes and clasps her hands at the base of her head.  The stance makes her stand straighter, with her back arched and her breasts pushed naturally forward.  She shuffles her feet from side to side until they feel comfortable; about shoulder width apart.  She wonders silently if that is wide enough when she feels Master Hunter reach out and gently cup her left breast in his warm hand. 

“You are so beautiful like this,” he nearly moans through gritted teeth and he reaches up and pinches her nipple.  She draws in a sharp breath but instantly feels the muscles in her stomach tighten and moisture erupt from the fire that is kindled below her belly.  He steps back leaving her breathless and she again feels a cool breeze blow across her legs.  Her body sways and totters from side to side as her feet spread even further apart and she is afraid they might slide out from under her, but they do not betray her. 

“You are doing wonderful.  I am so proud to call you mine,” Master Hunter praises.  He explains to her more how the box he is developing works.  While he is talking she stands before him watching him as his eyes explore her bare flesh.  “Because this device prevents you from moving or resisting me I must have your constant consent to what we are doing.  I have inspected you visually but now I will explore all of what is mine.  Do you understand and agree?”  He asks her almost sternly.

“Yes, Master Hunter,” Ayden replies, hesitantly, but her mind is reeling with all the new sensations and information. 

He reaches out and tugs one of her ponytails and whispers in her ear, “You are mine from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes.  I claim you for my own.  I own you now.”

Ayden’s eyes widen suddenly at the sharpness of his words and she looks at him wondering if she heard him correctly.  She is not sure about the idea of being owned by someone like a common animal.  “Owned, Master Hunter?”

He moves back a half step and looks her in the face as a self satisfying grin spreads across his face, “Yes I own you.  Your breasts are mine to feed from,” he says as he leans forward pulling her bikini top down exposing one nipple and he draws it into his mouth suckling from it.  Adyen begins to pant as soon as his lips touch her skin.

“Ayden repeat that I own your breasts,” he says squeezing the nipple roughly between his fingers.

“Master Hunter, you own my breasts,” she pants as he releases her nipple and lets his hands slide over her belly. 

He leans in and kisses her wantonly on the lips.  His mouth still on hers he whispers, “I own your belly.  You will rely on me to feed you and fill your belly.”

“You own my belly, Master Hunter,” she instinctively replies without his request.

His hands slide around behind her and enter her bikini bottom as they grasp both cheeks of your bum pulling it gently apart letting his fingers explore.  “I own your sweet little ass; to do with as I please.”

Ayden nods, “Yes Master Hunter,”

With one hand still firmly placed behind her the other hand slides over her hips and down the front of her bikini, “I own this too and will enter it at will.  Do you understand and agree Ayden?”

Gasping for air Ayden only nods her body weak from wanting to feel his touch.

“Ayden you must speak to me out loud and answer when spoken to,” he chides as his fingers intertwine in the delicate hair.  He tugs harshly on one as he waits for her reply.

“Yes, Master Hunter,” she blurts out quickly, breathless.

“Good girl, Babygirl,” and slowly he slides one finger over her clit and it enters her wet sex.  His finger dives deep into her wetness releasing her desires.  Her knees feel weak but she is held firmly in place by the little lit box now planted against her back, in Master Hunter’s free hand.  He pulls his hand out circling the little waiting clit, teasing it, and then he pushes his thumb into her again.  Repeatedly he thrusts his thumb deep inside her until Ayden’s head is reeling. 

He is about to push her over the edge into a swirling sea as her orgasm closes in on her when again his mouth is at her ear, “Ayden, I own your orgasms too.  You are forbidden from having one unless I tell you to.” 

Instantly, his hand stops ceases all movement and there is silence.  The only thing she can hear is the pounding of her heart and her own frantic breathing.  “Yes, Master Hunter, you own my orgasms,” she fairly whimpers.

“Good girl,” he purrs in her ear as his wet finger slowly circles her clit, torturing it deliciously.  “You may beg for your orgasm now, Ayden.”

Shocked, Ayden freezes unsure of what he means, but the finger continues to circle and her body cries out for release.  Again, his voice is in her ear, “Do you want my permission, Ayden?”

Whimpering, Ayden nods, “Yes, Master Hunter.”

“Then beg Babygirl.  Beg,” are the words that come as the slow breathtaking torment continues.

Panting Ayden manages, “Master Hunter may I please orgasm?”

He hums and she can hear the smile as he says, “Not yet, I want you to beg on your knees for me.  I will stop the control from the collar and you will be able to move freely.”  As the words begin to register Ayden realizes that she can move her arms and her legs suddenly feel heavy as Master Hunter’s hands slowly move away and are no longer supporting her.

He sits down in his chair and Ayden, dazed, takes a deep breath slowly letting it out and drops to her knees again.  On her knees she brings her hands up, again like she did as a child when she was taught to pray, and claps her fingers together and begins, “Please Master Hunter I beg of you to allow me to orgasm.  Please,” she pleads drawing out her final word much like a child would.

Master Hunter silently leans forward and disentangling her fingers he repositions her hands so that her palms face out towards him and her fingers curl back down to her palms.  With a contented smile he leans back in his chair and folds his arms, declaring, “Much better.”

Again, Ayden pleads, “Master Hunter won’t you please grant me an orgasm?”

He ponders her and bringing a hand to his mouth pulls gently at his lower lip, mindlessly, as he thinks.  “No, Ayden I do not think so today.  You have been wonderful, but I do not think that you are ready just yet.  And you will need your rest for tomorrow, but you may ask again then.  Now come here and crawl up in my lap.”

Still sniveling, quietly, she scrambles up onto his lap and wraps her arms around his neck.  He cradles her and smooths her hair away from her face until she has quiets and stops moaning.  He soothingly whispers in her ear, “You were amazing today Ayden.  I am so proud of you.  I want you to know that when you do what I ask you please me greatly.”

Finally Ayden nods into his chest where her head rests, “Thank you Master Hunter.”  He smiles and hugs her to him kissing the top of her head.

“Now, you must keep yourself healthy.  When you are able to stand I want you to go out and get some more of that good fruit.  It is one of the best vigor trees for miles around and it will build your strength back up after such strenuous work.”

Eventually, Ayden regains her composure and is able bear weight on her legs.  She slowly walks out to the tree.  Ayden stands before the bench, her legs still trembling.  Master Hunter is watching her closely and seeing her struggle comes out to help her.  He takes a piece of fruit from the tree and sits down on the bench and motions for her to join him.  Cradled in his arms he gently feeds her bite after bite of the delectable fruit.  He holds the fruit to her mouth letting the juice moisten her lips.  When she finishes the first one he grabs her another and feeds her until she is sated.  He cradles her in his arms and carries her back to the shop, to the cage in the back.  Master Hunter gently places her inside and covers her with a blanket.  It has been a warm day but he banks the fire to be sure that she will be warm throughout the night.

Ayden is sleepy and the soft quilt feels good against her skin.  With her body drained she lazily watches as Master Hunter busies himself around the shop.  He finishes up a couple small orders, clears away all of the items they used earlier in the day, and makes a few small adjustments to the little light box for her collar.  Just as her eyelids become so heavy and she is about to fall into a deep sleep Ayden is started by Master Hunter suddenly standing over here at the head of the cage.  In his hand he carries a long, soft piece of rope.

“Please raise your hands over your head and hold onto this bar,” he directs her. Ayden wearily replies and immediately does as she is asked.  He begins wrapping the rope around each of her wrists and through the bars of the beautiful gold cage.  There is a little slack between her wrists, but only enough to scratch her nose if she has an itch or to possibly roll onto her side.

When he asks her if she knows why he is binding her hands she yawns and mumbles, “Because you own my hands Master Hunter.”

Master Hunter laughs and praises her, “Very good, Babygirl.  It is not the only reason though.  You will not be allowed to touch yourself if your hands are tied.  All of your pleasure belongs to me.  Rest now we have a busy day tomorrow.”  Ayden knew that Master Hunter was talking to her but her eyes were so heavy that she drifted off to sleep before he had finished his sentence.

Chapter 3: The Pier

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.  Some are there as families with young children, there are crowds of teenagers in large groups laughing and joking with each other, even young couples cuddled up close together and clearly in love, and there are large groups of single men gathered together in clusters around exhibits.  Ayden 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 a 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 skirt 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 who immediately erupt in applause.  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.  He shakes it out and as it stretches out before him the long whip almost appears to slither across the ground like a snake on hot desert sand.  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,” but one lady not too far from Ayden buries her face in the shoulder of the man standing next to her and he wraps a protective arm around her shoulders. 

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 absolute 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 once more 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 them 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 people to fresh, clean air.  Free of the mass 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 kiosk with bright bold letters proclaiming the items for sale.  On the left side the letters spell out, “Hot Dogs,” on the right side of the sign it reads, “Corn Dogs,” 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 at the stand.  There are several young people taking orders through small openings.  It has windows that stretch across the front from one end to the other.  The large windows give a clear view of the cooking area inside.  From where she stands she can watch a young girl, 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 the messy concoction 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 disappears around a corner away from the crowded line.  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 up 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.”  He pulls a slightly tarnished gold token from his pocket and offers it to her.  She gingerly reaches out to take the token from his palm, but his hand closes around it and he wraps his free hand around her waist pulling 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 second crate watching and cheering like at the arm wrestling table.  Between the crowd she is, just barely, 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 bursts into thunderous cheers.  In the girl’s other hand she is slowly stroking another pulsing shaft that is snuggly pressed through the hole on the opposite 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 on the other side of the box.  As the girl 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 it 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 nod, before he 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 asking 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 glimpses 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.  Tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.  The realization that she is terribly lost washes over her and she does not know what to do.  All she wants is for this strange day to end so that she can be back at the little bungalow waiting for Meg to come home again.  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 her body relaxes and she begins to take in all that has happened that she hears a gravelly voice chortle, “What are you smiling at, Babygirl?”  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 probably has not been trimmed in months but he has kind sparkling eyes, with small creases at the edges which 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, quickly wiping the tears away, with the back of her hands, as she turns to face 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, Babygirl?” 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 fleshed fruit that she does not fully recognize.  Exhausted she stands and tries to grasp one but they are just beyond her reach.  She stretches 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, Babygirl.  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 chuckling to himself the man wanders off across the pier to a small rustic shop a few steps beyond the tree.  He takes a seat, kicking up he heals on an old saw horse 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.  She jumps off the bench with a triumphant, and somewhat childish, two footed 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, “Laothoe’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, Babygirl.  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 Babygirl, 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.  She is caught somewhat off guard by the swat but is growing accustomed to it already and it makes her feel reassured.

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 can 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.  Bracing for the bitter flavor, she takes another bite, 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.  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 anger arose 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, Babygirl.”  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 my 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.  Going into a nearby shop she sees a delivery man 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, Babygirl?”  When Ayden just shakes her head slowly from side to side 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 greatly 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.”  He pauses his tale only long enough for Ayden to nod and then continues, “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.  I ought to spank you here and now.  There will be no more talk of this.  Put that spoon away and then I want you to come help me with my work.”