Marri's Approach (Brackish Bay)

by Cerise Noble

  With my hands free, I was able to better examine the closing of the cuffs. I could remove them. Thank goodness. I removed the ankle ones, and had a harder time with the wrists, but eventually I was able to remove them, also. I dropped all four on the bed. Then I pawed through the clothes hanging on pegs on the side of the room, and pulled out two more panels like the ones Karianne was wearing. It took a few tries to get it to look similar to how she'd worn hers, and then I couldn't find a belt. Finally I gave up and tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of each panel, tied them together, and tied the strip around my waist.

  Chapter 9

  I approached the door and peeked out. Yes, Fortuna, I know my life is forfeit if I am caught. But I cannot stay here, not when I've given my word that I will find out what has happened to Katherine. I know I gave my word to Roy, also, to obey him. But he has given me no order yet. He left me lying on the street. I belonged to William, and not only would he prefer I place Katherine at the top of my priorities, but he is missing, too.

  I slipped out the door. I didn't dare walk towards the gate. They would recognize me there, and I didn't know where Roy was. So I walked towards the market. If I were caught, I would say I was looking for Karianne. I didn't enter the market, though. Instead, I skirted it, cautious and smiling vaguely at the ground instead of looking up at the people around me. I hoped it looked humble, and not suspicious.

  I intended to get to a boat and go northwest, up the river as far as I could. Katherine had obviously never made it to Brackish Bay. But where could she be? I would go to the last place I saw her and start there. There were more people by the docks than I thought there would be. I saw several fishing boats, some launching, some unloading. I ducked under a tree and watched, fascinated. There were so many beautiful bodies. I reveled in the hard, slick muscles of the men who hauled, the men who rowed. Here and there was a woman, strong and sinewy. All of them were tan or dark with days spent on reflective water under the hot sun.

  Finally I recalled myself to my mission. Where were the little boats? It would be hard enough rowing anything upstream. Ideally, I would rather not row against the current, but even the smallest sailboat was more than I'd be able to manage on my own. Could I bluff my way onto one of the larger boats? Were there any trading boats that were headed up river?

  There did appear to be one. I watched it pull into dock, lazily wallowing in the water, heavy with goods. With the men working as efficiently as they were, it didn't take them more than an hour to unload it. I sauntered towards it.

  A burly man in striped overalls smiled pleasantly at me. “What can I do for you?”

  “I have leave from my master to visit my sister. She lives just by the dock a day upstream from here. Are they—” I pointed at the boat being reloaded. “Stopping there?”

  He glanced around. “Let me check for you.” He walked away and called to one of the men on the boat, and they conversed for a bit before he returned. “They are stopping there. Do you wish to ride?”

  “Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

  “You have coin?”

  I glanced up slyly. “My master gave me leave to pay with something a little more suited to traveling lightly.”

  He snorted, a grin on his face. “Hiding your coin under your skirts, are you?”

  I grinned back. “The very best kind of coin hides there.”

  He went away and conversed with the sailor again. I drew close enough to hear the sailor's questioning of how much trouble there would be if I was lying, so I answered him.

  “What does it matter to you? I'm the one who'll be beaten for it if I am disobeying.”

  He thought for a moment, shrugged, and gestured grandly at the gangplank. “Make yourself at home, but don't get in my way.”

  “Gladly.” I boarded the boat and tucked myself below in a cabin out of the way of the workmen.

  Eventually, the ship was reloaded, and they set sail. My heart finally stopped pounding as we pulled away from the dock, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I didn't eat for the rest of the day, having brought nothing with me, but I reminded myself of my concern for Katherine. What if the poor wench hadn't eaten for days? What if she was now a slave to a brutal man, having been raped for days? I could put up with a little discomfort to get to her quicker.

  That night the sailor came to the empty bunk I'd claimed, and I smiled up at him.

  “What is your preference, sir? Do you like it sweet and soft, or would you rather slam me against the wall and fuck me silly?”

  As I said it, my heat stirred. He flushed and gently reached out to touch my hair. I smiled, even though I hated that my hair was so long and such a liability in these situations. One of these days, Fortuna, when I have a minute to breathe, I'm going to cut it short again.

  “Do you have a preference?” he said.

  “The harder the better, sir.” I reached for his pants and was gratified to feel his hard length pressing against the cloth. “This, for example. I like it hard.” I squeezed “Harder.” I squeezed again. “Hard enough to make me cry.”

  He turned towards me, then suddenly drew his right hand back sharply, as if to slap me. I flinched. He stopped, smirking.

  “I don't want to damage you.”

  “You don't understand, sir.” I stared up at him, my eyes wide with sincerity. “I would enjoy taking pain from you and your men.” This time he did slap me, and the wetness flooded my cunt. My breath came out in a moan. “Yes.”

  “You're a dirty slut if you want me and my men.”

  “Yes, sir. I'm a dirty, filthy slut.” He slapped me again, holding my head in place with my hair, and I moaned, arching towards him. “Please. Fuck me like the dirty slut I am.”

  “I will. I'm going to fuck you until you cry.”

  “Oh, please!”

  He slapped my tits, and I gasped. There was no art to it, but I had been craving release for so long I didn't care. He slapped my arms, then my belly, released my hair to travel down and slap my thighs. I begged, moaned, and cried out. He turned me on my belly and slapped my tender, aching, bruised ass until it glowed with heat. I did cry, then. He didn't seem to want to stop. Once the torrent of slaps was loosed, he was content to redden my skin over and over and over.

  Eventually, I found myself on my side, one leg draped over his shoulder while his cock shoved deep inside me. I groaned, clawing at the mattress with the intensity of the penetration from that angle. He braced himself on his left arm and continued to slap my tits with his right hand while I moaned and cried and squealed.

  When he spurted inside and withdrew, I thought he was finished with me. Instead, he turned me onto my belly and dipped his fingers deep inside my cunt, drawing out our combined juices in order to paint my asshole. I gasped, but relaxed against him. He jerked himself to stiffness again, then pressed the blunt head against my entrance and pushed. I grunted, opening against his invasion. The sensation of a man sliding deep inside when you're just a shade not ready is exquisite, Fortuna. I moaned, and he began to pump. Somehow the angle was just right, and I felt the pressure in that lovely spot inside.

  I pressed tightly to him, determined to take every centimeter. He reached down and grabbed my hair with sticky fingers, and I yelped as he jerked my head back. Oh, Fortuna, it's been far too long. Even Lorenzo was not enough to sate me for more than a night or two.

  His voice in my ear goaded my pleasure. “Fucking cunt. Dirty little slut likes to take it up the ass, doesn't she? What a nasty girl you are, letting a bunch of sailors use your master's property. What will your master say when he finds out you've been fucked like a bitch in heat, right in your filthy little asshole?”

  “He—he will make me tell him—tell him everything you said. Everything you did. And then he will spank me—for being—such a dirty little whore. And fuck me—until—I know my place.”

  I erupted then, grunting while my cunt gushed, and my muscles clenched down. He grunted in surprise, his own orgasm wrung from his dick until he wa
s limp and empty. He slid out and went to wash. I lay on the bed, my heart pounding with pleasure and contentment.

  “You'll take another one in the morning, before you get off at the dock.”

  I hummed to myself before answering. “Yes, sir.”

  He left the room. I curled up and went to sleep. The next morning, we were drawing in towards the dock, and I was washing as best I could from the basin in the tiny cabin when a man knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  He had to duck to enter. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” I smiled at him, stark naked, while I wrung out the washcloth. “Can I help you?”

  “Er, yes. Maybe. Um, cap'n said since'n I was the fastest loader and unloader, I could have a bonus, see?” He was twisting his big, dinner plate sized hands in his overall pockets.

  “A bonus? Me?”

  He nodded. “Yes.” A pause. “Ma'am.”

  It was endearing, so I set the washcloth down and stepped in close. Then I laid a hand on each cheek and kissed his whiskery lips.

  “I would be pleased to provide your bonus.”

  He blushed, and then I unfastened his overalls, letting them fall to the ground. He stood naked, save for his deck shoes.

  “Come.” I led him to the bed, and sat down on it. “What do you prefer?”

  He touched my hair. “Can you suck it?”

  I grasped his dick and began to lick it like a lollipop. “Of course.”

  I swirled my tongue around and engulfed it, teasing and fluttering my tongue until his eyes practically rolled back into his head. Suddenly he pushed me away.

  “Stop.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I fuck you?”

  “Yes.”

  He pressed me down onto the bed, and there was suddenly no more room. His body covered mine. I kissed his lips again, and then his tongue was insistent and sweet against mine. I closed my eyes while he stroked my mouth, the tip of his tongue a delicate caress. His lips trailed down my jaw to my throat, and I sighed with pleasure as he nibbled just the slightest bit. My nipples were stiff by the time he made his way that low, and then his big hands were gathering up my breasts, kneading and caressing them as gently as could be. I lost myself in the soft sounds he elicited when he used just the tip of his tongue on my nipples and areolas, teasing so delicately I wasn't sure if I was imagining it.

  His mouth moved lower, delving into my belly button, and I squirmed. What a strangely intimate touch, Fortuna. His lips found the hollow between my belly and thigh, and it was ticklish, but so exquisite. How was it I had never realized that softness could have an appeal?

  He pushed my thighs apart, and I spread them eagerly, impatient for the touch of his tongue on my clit. He made me wait, though, kissing down my thighs to my knees and back up while I squirmed and mewed. He pressed a kiss to my swollen flower, and then his tongue pressed inside. I gasped, my fingers tight in his hair. He groaned when I pulled it, and then the door opened.

  “Lajos! Get out here. We've docked, and we need to unload the ship.”

  He lifted his head, his tongue drawing a line up my slit and flicking over my clit as it did. I flopped like a fish, gasping for air.

  “Okay.” He rose, pulling up his overalls and patting my thigh. “I enjoyed my bonus. Thank you, ma'am.”

  I remained where he left me, need pulsing through my veins, impatient, thwarted desire attempting to crowd out rational thought. Staying another day just to fuck Lajos was unacceptable. I gave in to self-pity and cried for a minute, then I got up and dressed and went up on deck. There the captain saw me.

  “This your stop?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I trust Lajos was pleased?”

  “I pleased him as well as I could. We docked before he could finish.”

  The captain shrugged. “As long as he is content with your service, you are free to go.” I nodded, then waited until the big man came by with a huge crate. Captain called to him. “Good bonus, Lajos?”

  “Yes, cap'n.”

  He turned back to me. “You're free to go.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

  My swollen vulva pulsing with every step, I disembarked. The place was nearly deserted, unlike the way I remembered it from when my patrol had disembarked the first time. Who would have seen anything? There was an inn for travelers, serving lodging, food, and drink, and a trading post serving everything else.

  I decided to try the inn first. There were several horsemen around, just as there had been last time. These nomadic tribes had a morality that seemed strange to me, and they wore several layers of embroidered clothing, something I thought absolutely ridiculous, considering the climate since the bombardment. I would be scandalous in the slave dress I'd stolen.

  Pushing open the door, it took me a minute to blink the sun out of my eyes so I could peer into the dark room.

  “Sir?”

  The bartender looked up, as did all the other men at the bar and tables. Where were the women? It irked me that they placed so much emphasis on the women’s behavior being modest, whatever that means, Fortuna.

  “Good morning, sir. I was hoping you could help me.” I approached the bar, conscious of so many eyes on my partially bare back and the hip-high openings in the sides of the skirt. “My younger cousin was traveling past here, oh, two weeks ago? Maybe a week ago? And I haven't heard that she made it to the next settlement, to Brackish Bay. Have you seen her? A young woman with curly hair like mine, but dark instead? She's a little shorter than me, as well, and there would have been two men with her. One was broader, with an excellent speaking voice, and the other was tall and slender, with long auburn hair.”

  The bartender frowned at me. “I don't remember men like that, but I remember seeing a woman as you describe.”

  “When? Where? Do you know if she's still here somewhere?”

  A man behind me stood and came near, far too close for comfort. “Who wants to know?”

  “I'm her cousin. Marri.”

  I turned to face him. He was definitely one of the horsemen, embroidered shirt open at the collarbone, tight pants to enable better riding, a short whip tucked into his belt. Mmm, Fortuna, a brawny man is looking at me like he can't decide if he wants to whip me or ride me. I smiled.

  “What do you want with her?” he demanded.

  Fortuna, why does he sound like he's got some information?

  “I want to make sure she's well.”

  “She's fine. Now piss off, before I make you.”

  “Make me? I want to talk to her.”

  “You?” He laughed, and it was a nasty sound. “Why do you want to talk to her? She's not for the likes of you.”

  “Likes of me?”

  “A harlot.” He gestured to the door. “Get lost.”

  “I'm not going anywhere.”

  “You're not going to see her.”

  “Where is she?” I said.

  “She's safe.”

  “Where are William and Amadeus?”

  “The faggots?” He spat on the floor. “They don't exist.”

  “What?” Alarm rose in my throat. “What happened?”

  He shrugged. “Doesn't matter.”

  I bit down on the urge to ram his nasal bones into his brain. “Take me to her.”

  “We can do this all day, harlot. You're not going to corrupt the child.”

  Oh. Well. Fortuna? I wonder if their gods endorse the idea of redemption. I burst into tears and sank to the floor.

  “What the hell's the matter with you now?”

  I shook my head, burying my face in my hands while I wailed. “Oh, gods, I don't know what to do! Katherine was the only one in the family who was good and pure! I wanted to find her, to learn from her, to be like her! She's the only one who would understand. A harlot mother raised her, and yet she overcame her temptations. She's such a good girl! I wanted to learn to be like her!”

  I curled into a weeping ball. The man in front of me snorted.r />
  “You expect me to believe that?”

  A man still sitting at the table spoke up. “Aw, be easy on the girl, Tony. Maybe she is telling the truth.”

  I peeked through my fingers. He was a younger man, dressed similarly to Tony. “Please forgive me! I don't know what to do! I'm so ashamed of everything I've ever done.” Careful, don't overdo it.

  Tony snorted again. “Right. And pigs fly.”

  “I know I don't deserve a second chance. I don't deserve a husband or children or a chance to learn about my heritage.”

  The man at the table spoke again. “Tony, have you ever seen a harlot cry like that?”

  Tony seemed dubious. “No.”

  I called up all the shame I'd ever felt at any of my previous failures, and channeled it into my voice. “I am a bad, dirty whore. I'm so sorry. I've failed Katherine. She always said if I would just try to be more like her, so pure and good—”

  “Maybe we should let her talk to the girl. If Katherine rejects her, we'll just leave the whore in the woods, like her mother was left.”

  My stomach dropped with the casual way the man at the table referenced Jacqueline's abandonment. They made me ill. Dare they call themselves men when they abandoned helpless women and children who did not fit their narrow morality? I bit down on my outrage, forcing it out as tears.

  “No, please don't. I don't deserve to speak to Katherine. I wanted to, but you're right. I would only corrupt her. I should leave. I'll never have a family.”

  “Come on, don't be like that.” The man at the table spoke again. “You don't mean that. Here you were, all ready to fight Tony to get to see your cousin, and now you're giving up.”

  “Oh, but it's because Tony's right. I shouldn't have. I'm so sorry.” I pushed myself to sitting up. “I'll just go.” I tried to stand, then threw myself down on the bar, weeping into my arms. “I should go. I'll ruin everything if I stay. Don't even tell her I was here. Let her think the worst of me. It doesn't matter that I tried to be good. Nothing matters, because I'll never be more than this.”