Chapter 2: 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, and 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 stretches and tries to grasp one but they are just beyond her reach.  She reaches 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.  The shop is a sharp contrast to the bright lights and loud noises of the carnival.  The old man takes his seat, kicking up he heels 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 shabby 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 inn.”

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, 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 an inn a little way up the road.  It was small but she has turned it into an impressive place.  She serves the most amazing house ale 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 bond.”  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.”