Chapter 6: The Inn (Revision 1)

Chapter 6: The Inn

They hike up the small hill in silence, just the sounds of their feet slogging along the pavement.  Ayden is beginning to feel very tired.  It was less about the physical exertion and more about the mental strain of her day so far.  She wants to ask how much further they will be walking, but she knows she cannot ask.  She wants to please Master Hunter, but she is not sure that she is up to the task.  She just keeps plodding along, letting her feet fall where Master Hunter’s had been only seconds before her.  She does not even look up until they reach the crest of the hill and the road begins to level out beneath her. 

Finally she raises her tired eyes to the large gleaming white building that is looming before them.  They are on a sweeping circular drive that heads up to the entrance of the building and the magnificent Porte-cochere.  To their left is an open, expansive English style garden.  There is a lush lawn that is enclosed by dark green hedges.  At the mouth of the garden is a stone fountain spraying water high into the air.  Below the fountain, in the center of the garden is an enormous version of the mouth-watering fruit tree that Ayden so enjoys back at Master Hunter’s shop.  Radiating out from the tree are waves of neatly trimmed rose bushes that are surrounded by mounds of smaller flowers of every color.  Meandering through it all is a smooth sandstone path.  The path flows throughout the garden passing several wooden or stone benches that have been set out; where visitors can stop and enjoy the butterflies darting from flower to flower.  Far off in the distance Ayden can see an ivy-covered, white garden swing set at the edge of the lawn before the green grass dives over the slope of the hill, like a spring waterfall.

Ayden had been expecting a more rustic open, wood beamed, cabin style, inn, but what stands before her takes her breath away.  The front of the building stretches out before her and seems to go on endlessly.  The ground level is a row of about a dozen small boutiques, selling the finest of wares.  Every shop has its own cheery yellow awning over the front door.  Above the shops is a grand veranda.  Columns extend from the roofs of the shops to just beneath the balconies of the upper most level of the inn.  The balconies of the upper level rooms form a towering porch along the front of the building.  Ayden quickly counts the windows and decides that the porch level must be three stories tall.  The entire length of the colossal porch is lined with Adirondack chairs where guests can sit and have a pristine view over the lavish gardens and clear to the ocean waves below.

In the center of the building rising from the roof is a massive structure and as Ayden studies it she tries to decide if it looks more like the top of a lighthouse guiding people safely to her shores or a windmill that has lost its vanes.  Below the edifice, perpendicular to the main part of the inn, is a monumental raised roof sitting on tall pillars that look more like white redwoods.  It straddles the circular drive and easily reaches to the third level, making a grand welcoming entrance.  One a sign above the entrance is a gilded sign announcing the Squeeze Inn. 

All around the entrance the hotel staff is scurrying to assist the guests with their arrivals and departures.  There are men in formal attire at the door.  They are in black tie and tails and each of them carries a black riding crop.  Ayden tugs at the bottom of her shirt, suddenly mortified by her lack of attire.  Everyone around her is dressed in fine clothing and she is walking up to the inn in her bathing suit, but then she sees them.

Ayden watches one of the gentlemen graciously assist a lady into a carriage.  The carriages are ornate and apparently the only vehicle allowed on the property.  There are several lined up in front of the inn to ferry the guests to their destinations and Ayden can just make out several more unattended around the corner waiting to be of service.  The carriages are similar to a Hansom cab.  They are polished black and the surrounding scenery can almost be seen reflected on their surface. They have retractable tops that have been lowered so that the riders can enjoy the warm day.  The back edge of the carriages have been decorated with large yellow roses.  The wheel hubs and spokes are painted a dark green.  At the front of the carriage metal bars extend forward from either side of the carriage and join together in a square that is harnessed to two graceful girls who are waiting patiently.  Ayden can barely keep her eyes off of them.  The girls are both wearing dark green tunics, with what appears to be the Inn’s logo in yellow across their breasts.  The logo depicts the image of a naked woman soaking in a martini glass with her legs flung high into the air.  The tunics hang loosely from the shoulders and are open on both sides allowing for ornamental leather harnesses to be attached to their bodies under the fabric.  Thin strings tie in bows, at the waist, on either side of the tunic.  The bottom of the covering resembles a pleated skirt, with the front and back each having four slotted panels.  Peeking out from beneath center opening, in the back of each girl’s tunic, is a beautiful plume of soft yellow, matching the one ornately sprouting from their heads.  When the girls lean forward to hold the bar to steady the carriage the plume forms the perfect image of a tail, rising up between the folds of fabric, and dances with every move of their strikingly athletic bodies.  Ayden watches as they gracefully prance down the drive carrying the formal lady and her companion away from the inn, their plumes bobbing in the afternoon breeze wafting up off the ocean.  As soon as the first pair have gone another pair of equally beautiful young girls pull the next carriage into place at the entrance and the men in formal attire begin to aid the newly arriving guests.

Laothoe approaches the entrance of the inn and finds it much busier than he had expected it to be, but is enjoying the look of excitement on Ayden’s face as they draw near the old familiar retreat.  His feet instinctively know the way, but tomorrow is Reclaiming Day.  He hesitates watching her and alters his course.  Rather than taking her immediately in the front door he leads her towards the gardens.

The fountain is set at the opening of the garden.  Its polished stone has dulled over the years, and is chipped and pitted in places, but it is still striking in the afternoon sun.  The top basin stands well over Laothoe’s head, with a single spray of water reaching for the sky from the center.  The mist falls; cooling the air as they step off the drive that leads to the Inn.  Below the basin is a much larger pool with four graceful mermaids; their tails intertwining together swirling around the pedestal that supports the basin.  They are each elegantly reclining on a cistern, water spewing from their mouths, creating soothing rivulets that flow to four narrow pebble filled troughs.  The troughs come away from the fountain like the spokes of a wheel.  There are two cement posts topped with an iron ring on either side of the three upper troughs.  Each post is situated in such a way that a bubbler is in the trough directly in front of it.  The fourth mermaid spills her water into a stream that runs through the garden and feeds the tree at the center.

There are couples milling around the garden and three girls already chained to posts on the garden side of the fountain.  They seem relaxed and accustomed to being tied up.  Ayden finds it a curious sight and it makes her smile.

Master Hunter’s voice catches her by surprise and drags her back out of her daydreams.  “I am glad you seem to be enjoying yourself today.  I thought that you might be thirsty.  With the Inn being so busy I do not want to take you into the lobby.  You stay here while I see about a room and I will be right back,” he explains while he is tying her to the first post.

Ayden watches as he heads toward the entrance and smiles at the sudden spring in his step.  She is happy that she has been able to please him.  While she misses and worries if she will ever see her family again.  What her parents will do without her there to help, but Master Hunter is right about one thing.  The long walk has left her parched.

There is a small bubbler in the middle of the trough that is set between her and the post directly across from her.  Each of the other five sets of posts have a bubbler just like hers.  What she would really like is an ice cold glass of fresh squeezed sweet lemonade like she used to have sitting on the porch at her aunt’s house on hot summer evenings.  Her aunt Jo had a way of making it so cold the water droplets would form on the outside of the glass before you took your first sip.  The water from the fountain almost looks that cool and Ayden leans in to get a drink.  The bubbler only rises as high as her knees and when she bends over the pigtails she is wearing flop in her face and all she gets is a mouthful of hair.  Struggling to keep her hair out the water and her mouth, but to get low enough to get some water Ayden sees the girl closest to her snickering behind her hand.  Ayden stamps her foot and folds her arms glaring at the girl who returns the gesture with a pleasant smile.  What the girl does next catches Ayden by surprise.  As she is pouting the girl gracefully drops to her knees beside her own fountain and leans in cupping a small bit of water in her hand and scooping it up to her mouth.  Immediately humbled Ayden mimics the girl and is rewarded with a mouthful of cool, crisp, refreshing water that explodes down her throat quenching her incessant thirst.  She smiles at the girl and nods, but in response the girl’s eyes seem to enlarge to twice their size and she immediately drops her gaze to the ground and almost appears to curl into a ball.

Ayden is reaching for another sip of water when she hears them behind her.  “Well, well, well, what a lovely vessel we have here this afternoon.  And a thirsty one too,” slurs a voice at her heels.  An instant chill runs down Ayden’s spine.  She scrambles to her feet and turns to meet the face of a man listing slightly to the side and sloshing around a drink in his hand.  There are several men with them and it appears they have all been drinking for most of the afternoon.  Ayden tries to back away but the leash keeps her tethered to the post.

“Maybe we should take her down to the beach and teach her a few things,” he teases pulling at her pigtail.  He wraps the red ribbon around his finger and slowly pulls it from her hair.  Once free he lifts the ribbon to his nose and sniffs at it before dropping it into his drink.  He moans, “And she smells good too.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder spilling his drink on her shirt before planting a sloppy kiss on her lips.  “Today is the day we teach naughty vessels how to behave and save them from Reclaiming Day tomorrow,” he says swaying and almost toppling them both over backwards into the water.  His hand slides down Ayden’s back and he tries to find his way into her bikini bottom.  He is clumsy in his current state of inebriation and Ayden twists away from his grasp.  She cannot make it passed his cluster of drinking companions.

“You should kneel before me, naughty girl,” he says pushing her to the ground.  Ayden remembers to place her hands face up on her knees but struggles to move away.  Two men move in behind her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.  She continues to struggle.  She watches while the man in front of her begins to unzip his pants.  Ayden feels the bile rising in her throat as she looks behind her for help.  “Your mouth looks inviting and I am going to empty my seed in you until you suck me dry,” he says leering down at her.  He throws back the last of his drink and tosses the glass on the grass where it lands with a thud, bounces, and shattered against the stone fountain.

From across the drive she hears a man’s angry voice yelling, “What do you think you are doing?”  He pushes his way through the crowd, shoving the men that are holding her down.  “This is not the beach.  Take your fun elsewhere,” he orders wedging between her and the man in front of her.  “This is not the place for that sort of behavior.”

Her rescuer turns on his heels and lets his fury loose on the men behind her, “Reclaiming Day does not give you permission behave like animals!  Now get out of here!” he spits.  Ayden watches as his face begins to turn red.  His hands ball into fists and his jaw clenches.  The tension hangs in the air and the silence ticks the seconds away.

Finally, just as it feels no one will speak again and Ayden feels every eye in the park is on her one of the men in the back speaks up,  “Hey, guys let’s get a carriage and head to the beach where we can have some real fun without so many do-gooders around.”  It seems to break the tension and the men begin to slowly move away slapping each other on the back.

The slightly listing man has zipped up his pants but is still standing watching Ayden.  Her rescuer turns and faces the man toe to toe, nose to nose.  “Hey, it’s all good.  Right buddy?” says the drunk man.  He smiles at Ayden, bends over collecting her red ribbon from the ground, slides it again under his nose, and tucks it in his shirt pocket.  He saunters over to where his friends have managed to commander a carriage and climbs in.

Ayden blows out a long breath of air and jumps to her feet wrapping her arms around her rescuers neck. “Thank you,” she exclaims.

He steps back shocked.  “You are not to speak during the Reclaiming Days,” he says his face growing stern.  “Maybe I should rethink things and call those men back.”

Ayden shakes her head vigorously.  She pleads to him using only her eyes and hopes that he will understand the message she needs to convey to him.  She looks deep in his clear blue eyes and sees a gentle kindness there.  The sun filters through the trees and lights up the golden hues in his hair.  Then he smiles at her and she instinctively drops to the ground before him her knees open and her hands ready to serve.  She lowers her gaze to the ground and smiles as her her breath catches feeling his eyes on the tops of her head.

He crouches down next to her and touches her cheek.  She lifts her eyes to his and they are frozen in each other’s touch.  The garden around her slips away and she can only see him.  She holds her breath unable to understand the sudden burning in her chest.  To grasp her desire to touch him back.

One moment she is locked in his eyes and the next he is reeling backwards into the broken glass.  Master Hunter has returned.  His fists are balled and he is ready for a fight.  “This girl is own.  You have no business touching her.  Do you hear me?” Venom drips from every word.  Ayden watches as the rescuer stands slowly and tries to brush the bits of glass from his hands.  He holds his palms up but before he can say a word Laothoe takes a swing and connects with his left eye.  Caught by surprise he falters backwards, but stays on his feet.

“Hey, Wait!” he protests, “This is not what you think.”

“Then what is it?  I go inside for a moment and come out to find you pawing at my girl,” he says the anger clear in his voice.

Ayden finally clears her head enough to act.  She reaches out and wraps her arms around Master Hunter’s leg.  She tugs at him like a child going for a ride on their parent’s foot.  It is enough to draw Laothoe’s attention away from the fight.  She remembers the rebuke from her rescuer and does not dare open her mouth.  She looks to him to see if he is watching her.  She wonders if he thinks she is a good girl.  She looks back to Master Hunter and begs him with her eyes, vehemently shaking her head.

Laothoe bends down gently, patting her on the head and asks, “What is the matter, Babygirl?”

Ayden points to her rescuer and looks back to Master Hunter continuing to shake her head.

Her rescuer begins to back away, “I meant no harm.  She just looked like she was in trouble and needed help.”  He turns and walks away.

“Well, I guess I cannot leave you alone.  I will have to keep a better eye on you.  I got us a room and you look like you could use a bath,” he chatters as he unties her leash, but Ayden barely hears him.  Her eyes are on her rescuer and she is watching him walk away.  “What did you get on your shirt?” Laothoe asks.

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The drunk was difficult for me to write.  I had intended for it to go a little further than it did, but something in me just could no write that in.  I would like to know how you felt about it and whether it goes far enough.  I think those that have a rape kink might like to see a little more here.  Does it flow well enough that it is plausible our hero would step in so quickly?  He is not the sort that is prone to fighting.  Are you enjoying the story so far?