This is a work in progress but I welcome your comments. The story is getting long and the maze of posts confusing even for me. I have added a Table of Contents that will link you to the most current chapters

*DISCLAIMER*
Please do not try anything you read here without serious consideration to safety. This is a work of fiction. Some characters are designed to show the unsavory side of submission. It is a story meant to induce discussion and hopefully arouse your interest. Nothing more than entertainment.

Monday, September 2, 2013

Chapter 5: 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 uppermost 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.  There is a sign above the entrance, in gilded lettering, that welcomes all visitors to 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 bottoms of the covering resemble 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 has gone another pair of equally beautiful young girls pulls the next carriage into place at the entrance and the men in formal attire begin to aid the newly arriving guests.

Hunter 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 Hunter’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.  While she misses and worries if she will ever see her family again she is happy that she has been able to please him.  She wonders 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 has 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 wet kiss on her lips.  “Today is the day we teach naughty vessels how to behave and save them from Reclaiming Day tomorrow.  You look like you need a few lessons,” 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.  She is trapped inside the circle of men.

“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.  I am going to cum in you and let 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.

Ayden clenches her jaw and turns her head away. 

“Hold her still and get her mouth open,” he tells his friends.  “I wish I had a ring gag with me.  I do not want teeth marks.”  He is moving ever closer and Ayden lowers her chin into her shoulder and closes her eyes trying to get away.

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 to behave like animals!  Now get out of here!” he spits.  Ayden watches as his face begins to turn red.  His hands ball into fists at his sides 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 drunken man.  He smiles at Ayden, bends over collecting her red ribbon from the ground.  He saunters over to where his friends have managed to commander a carriage and climbs in.  As they drive away he is still watching Ayden.  He slides the red ribbon under his nose and leers at her.  Ayden watches as he tucks it in his pocket just before the carriage rolls out of sight.

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 knows he was only joking.  She instinctively drops to the ground before him to show her gratitude.  She spreads her knees open and her hands are ready to serve.  She lowers her gaze to the ground and smiles as her breath catches.  She can feel his eyes on the tops of her head.

He crouches down next to her, sitting on the heel of his left foot, and touches her cheek.  His caress is warm and gentle.  She lifts her eyes to his and they are frozen in each other’s touch.  The garden around her slips away and she can see only him.  She holds her breath unable to understand the sudden burning in her chest.  She fights her desire to touch him back and remains motionless and accepting of his silent request.

One moment she is locked in his eyes and the next he is reeling backwards into the broken bits of glass.  Master Hunter has returned.  His fists are up and he is ready for a fight.  “This girl is owned.  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 slivers of glass from his palms.  He holds his hands up but before he can say a word Hunter 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.  What am I supposed to think?” he says, the anger clear in his voice.

Ayden immediately reacts.  She hurdles herself at Master Hunter’ leg and wraps her arms around it.  She tugs at him like a child going for a ride on their parent’s foot.  It is enough to draw Master Hunter’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.

Master Hunter 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 quickly walks away.

“Are you okay?  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?” Master Hunter breaks through her thoughts.  Ayden brushes at her wet shirt and follows Master Hunter out of the garden.

Master Hunter asks about her missing hair ribbon, but does not wait for an answer.  He complains to her about the commotion going on inside the Inn.  He talks of how he was lucky to even get a room for the night, because the Inn is full of out of town visitors here for Reclaiming Day. 

Ayden is not listening.  Her mind is on the tall slender man with the broad shoulders and deep blue eyes.  The way he looked at her, the way he touched her face, even the way his breath was slow and controlled.  Everything about him makes Ayden quiver inside.  She scans the drive for another glimpse of him, but he has disappeared.

Master Hunter is still muttering when they turn the corner and head to the back of the hotel.  Ayden can make out bits and pieces about people’s behavior inside the Inn.  She hears him say something about being angry that it took the staff so long to find a room for him.  He grumbles that if it had not taken them so long he would have gotten back to the garden before that man could try and claim Ayden for his own.  He is angry with the man for having Ayden kneel for him when she was so clearly leashed and collared.  “How could he just paw at you like that?” he curses out loud. 

“I suppose it would have been worse if I had taken you inside.  The lobby was full of men who have come here alone looking for a vessel to punish,” he says, finally concluding.  “I will have to make the delivery a little later, but you will stay in the room where you will be safe.”

As they turn the corner to the back of the Inn Ayden is struck by the graceful hills lined with grapes ripening in the summer sun.  Waves of the grapevines flow down the back of the hill.  There are shirtless laborers bringing up buckets laden with grapes to girls, dressed in only the dark green tunics, near the top of each set of rows.  The girls are using large presses to extract the succulent juice.  But what catches Ayden’s eye is over at the far end of the Inn, set off in a corner of the vineyard are four large vats, each with three girls inside.  The girls have on the same green tunics, but they are soaked with grape juice.  Each of the vats is surrounded by men who are grabbing at the girls.  If a girl slows down she is sure to get a swift swat on the behind to get her moving again.  Their constant movement squeezes out juice that flows to a cistern in the center.

Ayden is still watching the girls when she feels a tug at her leash and she realizes that Master Hunter is turning through a doorway at the back of the Inn.  The doorway leads up a stairwell and to a long quiet hallway where Master Hunter easily finds their room number and guides her into a breathtaking room. 

The room is almost overpowered with an enormous four poster bed made of mahogany.  The base of the bed is made of iron bars that form a large cage.  The overstuffed down mattress is covered in lacy quilts that hang over the sides of the bed and partial cover the bars below.  The cage looks comfortable, but is not nearly as nice as hers back in the shop.  Above the mattress the bed rises almost to the ceiling on four large posts.  From each of the post hang metal rings at various heights.  The canopy has damask fabric that drapes below arched mahogany scrolls giving it the appearance of a delicate crown sitting on top of the bed. 

Ayden follows Master Hunter into the room and takes in the panoramic views of the surrounding areas.  French doors, which lay just beyond the bed, open onto a wide balcony overlooking the garden to the far left and the expanse of the beach lies across the entire horizon.  Master Hunter leads her to the foot of the bed, near a large marble fireplace and turning to her asks, “This is my favorite room.  Do you like the view?”

He unhooks the leash from her collar and puts it on a lace covered table that is set for four.  It is situated slightly out of the room, in a turret, complete with floor to ceiling windows hidden behind delicate lace curtains.

Ayden looks around again, her eyes wide in wonder at the grandeur of the room after seeing how he keeps his shop and silently nods her head with enthusiasm.

Master Hunter chuckles and brushing his fingertips across her cheek pushes a stray hair back into her ponytail, “You may speak in here, Babygirl.”

“You are a fright.  I bet you could use a good bath while I get things ready out here,” he says slapping her on her soft cheeks that have picked up a little pink sunburn from the walk to the inn and the sting is intensified.  Ayden is startled up straight at the sensation on the slight sunburn.  “Off you go now and hurry,” encourages her.

She turns to go, but quickly remembers and corrects herself with a hasty, “Thank you Master Hunter,” thrown over her shoulder.

Ayden looks around for the door to the bathroom.  Master Hunter is kneeling in front of the fireplace and before Ayden can ask he looks back at her with a smile and points, “It is on the left in the hall.”

The sky is just beginning to change from the bright clear blue of a summer’s day to the pinks and deep blues that foretell of the setting sun.  All around the room someone has set out candles and their flickering flames dance away the end of the day.  The room is large and there is an oversized square sunken tub that could almost be called a small pool.

Ayden closes the door and slips out of her shirt and bikini.  She washes them in the double basin sink and lays them out to dry.  After turning the water on in the bathtub she finds a toothbrush on the edge of the sink.  She marvels at how wonderful it feels just to brush her teeth.

She sits on the edge of the bath twirling her fingers in the warm water while the tub fills.  The steam fogs up the picture windows but Ayden can still watch as the sun dips into the ocean waves below.  From this side of the inn she can just make out a secluded private cove.  She is now sure, if she was not before, that she is nowhere near the bungalow she and Meg rented for the summer. 

There is nothing that feels better than warm bath water to wash away her worries.  Ayden lets her toes slip and in gradually her body slides into the warm relaxing water.  She closes her eyes and slips her head backwards letting the water line bury her so that only a small part of her face is exposed.  She rolls the soap around in her hands and relishes in the feel of the bubbles.  She thinks about how wonderful it would be to have some bubble bath soaps.  After rinsing her freshly washed hair she comes up out of the water, reaching for the bar of soap again, only to find Master Hunter leaning in the doorway to the bedroom, watching her.  Startled, the soap flies from her hand and skids across the floor bouncing into Master Hunter’s bare foot.

“Are you about done in here?” he asks her.  Master Hunter bends and picks up the bar of soap at his feet and walks over to the tub handing it back to Ayden who is now blushing.

“Yes, Master Hunter,” Ayden quickly replies and reaches to raise herself out of the tranquil tub.

“Not so fast Babygirl.  I want to see you wash those delicious nipples of yours,” he tells her, positioning himself at the end of the tub where he can see her every move.

 Ayden mumbles, “Yes, Master Hunter,” but her hands are folded in her lap keeping the wash cloth that she hides behind submerged.

“You want to please me don’t you?” he asks gently.

She looks up into his eyes, stunned that he would even need to ask, “Oh yes Master Hunter, very much,” she assures him.

He teases her with a broad smile on his face, “Then I want you to do as I ask this evening and I will be very pleased with you.  Maybe so much so that you might even earn that orgasm you so delightfully asked for yesterday,”.  He reaches down drawing a circle in the water sending ripples out to lick at her skin.  Taking his hand from the water he flicks a droplet of water at her making her smile at his playful manner. 

She surrenders and slowly slides the wash cloth, the only defender of her modesty, up over her belly and clutches at it between her breasts, revealing herself to Master Hunter.  She watches as Master Hunter’s gaze becomes intently focused on her and smiles watching him instinctively wet his lips. Ayden caresses the cloth against the little bar of soap.  Deliberately, she lays the cloth over one finger and begins to leisurely circle her left nipple.  Master Hunter seems to be enjoying himself.  She relaxes as she carefully washes the nipple and surrounding bared flesh.  She is surprised that here in the warm water she feels safe and gradually acknowledges that his scrutiny of her actions has aroused her.  She tenderly repeats the process of soap, bubbles, and drawing her finger around the nipple; edging ever closer.  She feels them harden even in the warmth of the bath and it brings a twinge of a smile to her lips.  Her eyes are fixed on Master Hunter, who is sitting poised at the end of the tub.  His hands are folded neatly in his lap.  Ayden lowers the wash cloth into the water rinsing away the last of the remaining soap residue and slowly offers up the wet rag to Master Hunter.

“Would you like to rinse, Master Hunter?” she asks coyly with her head slightly cocked to one side.

Master Hunter chortles.  He tries to speak but the words choke in his throat.  He coughs but still cannot get the words out.  Finally he swallows deeply and says, “No Hun, I think we are done in here.  Please get out and meet me in the other room,” he says standing and striding for the door.  Just as he is about to step through to the bedroom he stops, lowers his head, and quietly tells her, “Come to me dressed just as you are and do it quickly.”

“Now,” he adds urgently.

Ayden scrambles from the tub, sloshing water onto the stone tile floors.  She quickly dries off on a towel that has been laid out for her.  She finds everything she needs on the bathroom counter and is swiftly running a brush through her freshly washed hair when she hears Master Hunter calling from the bedroom, “Do not forget to put your pig tails back in, Babygirl.”

Ayden hurriedly finishes her hair and ties it up with fresh ribbons that were laid out on the counter.  She checks herself in the mirror and for an instant wonders what she is doing here and how she ended up at this inn, in a strange town, with an eccentric old man controlling her every move.  She smiles when she realizes it does not matter because she has never felt more at peace.

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