Valves & Vixens, Volume 2

by Blair Erotica

  He noticed that the rumbling never quite stopped, but the ship seemed to even out at some point. He wondered if it would be safe to leave his cabin, but Mika never reappeared. Deciding a peek couldn’t hurt him, he cracked open his door, but stopped when he heard voices he didn’t recognise, listening a little more closely he recognised them as belonging to a man and a woman. Perhaps it was more of the crew and he would be chastised for exiting early. That didn’t stop him from listening in, however.

  “...perfectly safe...” Harold made out from the woman. The man’s response was lost. The woman’s tone was confident in its reassurances. This was Harold’s first airship ride. Had something gone wrong? Should he be worried as the other man seemed to be? Sweat trickled uncomfortably down the back of his neck.

  He fumbled in the dark for his valise. The package that Mr. Smith had given him was still there. Somehow, this helped to reassure him. Though what anyone on this ship would want with a packet of business papers, he didn’t know. Still, if they were taken from him, he would be lost. Stretching out on the bed, Harold prayed this was an honest ship and it really would be a swift and comfortable voyage.

  ***

  The next morning, Harold was woken by another rap on his door and a quipped, “All clear!”

  Harold was relieved to be able to leave his cabin. He changed his shirt and trousers and ran a comb through his hair. There was no mirror and he hoped this was enough to make himself presentable. He found Mika on the foredeck with a pot and a small stack of bowls in her hand. She ladled steaming brown slop into the top bowl and handed it to Harold along with a spoon she’d had in her trouser pocket.

  “Breakfast?” he asked weakly.

  “Breakfast,” she confirmed.

  It looked awful, but it smelled surprisingly delicious, like cinnamon and something else he couldn’t identify. There was no chair in which to sit, so he settled on the stairs leading to the upper deck. The wind was strong and tousled his hair every which way.

  A moment later, a tall woman in a burgundy jacket emerged from below. She greeted Mika and accepted her own bowl of slop. As the two women settled together on the deck with crossed legs to eat, Harold eyed the scenery over the railing. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look over the side, and he was afraid of being blown off balance besides. They were higher up than he’d imagined, and the countryside before him was laid out like a painting. It didn’t look real!

  “Hey!”

  Harold almost spit out his food. He looked up to find the woman in the burgundy jacket standing only a few feet away. Her hair was short and red and danced in the perpetual wind.

  “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Captain Belladonna Grayburn. Mika says you’re Harold Green flying from Pallets to New London.”

  Harold bobbed his head, fumbled with his bowl (the spoon almost flew over the side), and stuck his hand out to shake. The captain’s grip was firm and transmitted confidence. He realised this was the woman he’d heard the night before.

  “Pleasure to be aboard, uh, Captain.”

  She nodded her thanks. “I hope it’s a pleasant stay. Only one stop to resupply, then we’ll be in New London.”

  “Yes, thank you. You said your name is Grayburn?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Are you and Mika sisters?”

  The two women exchanged a look that Harold could not decipher.

  “Sure,” Captain Grayburn answered. “We’re sisters. Enjoy the view, Mr. Green.”

  With that, she returned below decks. Mika gathered the breakfast materials and appeared ready to follow her.

  “Miss Mika, wait!” Harold called and rose from his perch.

  She looked up expectantly.

  “I was just curious, are there any more passengers on board? Another man, for instance?”

  She raised a brow. “Well, there’s the Gentleman in the engine room. He doesn’t really have a name. We just call him the Gentleman. I don’t think you’ll see him, though. He prefers to keep himself. He’s... A little crazy. Are you done with your bowl?”

  While Harold took a moment to digest that information, Mika took his bowl and spoon from his limp hand and pushed past him. Suddenly finding himself alone, Harold didn’t know what to do. It was terribly windy, true, but open air might be preferable to a cramped, dark cabin. He wished he’d thought to bring a newspaper.

  ***

  Harold lounged on the deck, still afraid to get too close to the rails, and was almost slumbering when an explosion rocked the deck. He scrambled to his feet and whipped his head back and forth looking for another ship. Were they under attack? Were there pirates?

  He saw nothing in the air beyond puffy white clouds and the occasional bird in the distance. He was still standing there feeling quite unsure of himself when Captain Grayburn appeared.

  “Ah, Mr. Green, there you are,” she said. “Just wanted to assure you that there is nothing to worry about. Just had a little trouble in the hold.”

  “Trouble?” Harold echoed. “So we aren’t under attack?”

  She raised her auburn brows. “Attack? No. And there is nothing wrong with the engines either.”

  “Is it the work of that crazy man Miss Mika was telling me about?”

  The captain coughed into her hand and cleared her throat. “If you mean our engineer, then yes. It’s just something he was working on. Nothing to worry about.”

  Harold smiled weakly.

  A little while later Mika appeared again on the deck with food for the midday meal - a leek and potato stew with bread - and Captain Grayburn again joined them. Nothing more was said about the explosion, and no engineers, crazed or otherwise, made an appearance. Mika and the captain discussed where they would land to resupply the next day, and Harold added that it would be nice to stretch his legs. This seemed to amuse both women, though Harold was mystified why.

  After lunch had been cleared away, he decided to nap in his cabin and was still dozing when Mika rapped on his door to announce dinner. He wasn’t very hungry, but he went up to the deck anyhow figuring that, having paid in advance, he might as well get his money’s worth out of the trip.

  He was disappointed with dinner, however, as it was a rehash of lunch with a lump of dry, brown meat in the middle of the bowl. Still, it was food, and he had paid for it. The usual trio had barely dug in when there was yet another boom and the deck rocked.

  Mika cursed, slammed her bowl down, and jogged down the stairs and through the door to below decks. Captain Grayburn sighed, rose to her feet, and suggested Harold finish his dinner in his cabin. After the threat of twice now almost being tossed over the rail, he was only too happy to oblige her.

  ***

  A short time later, Harold heard footsteps and voices in the hall again. They were the same as before. Harold cracked open his door. The captain and mystery man seemed to standing at the far back of the hall, where Harold had thought he’d seen another set of stairs leading down earlier that day.

  “...explosion? ...was worried...” came the man’s voice.

  The captain was clearly there to reassure the man, which meant he probably wasn’t the crazy engineer who’d caused the incidents. So who was he? Harold strained to hear more wishing he could get closer to hear better.

  “...imperative we arrive... no delays...” the man went on.

  “There won’t be.” The captain’s voice came through clear and firm, like she was putting all of her energy into convincing him that all was well. “We’ll arrive in New London with no more distractions, I promise you.”

  The man’s response was too soft to be heard, then a door was closed, and Captain Grayburn went down the stairs to the deck below. Harold waited to see if anyone else stirred. He was too awake, now, to return to sleep, and he’d spent enough time in his cabin. Slowly, quietly, he slipped in
to the hallway and crept up the stairs to the foredeck, where his heart nearly stopped beating.

  There, along the port rail, was a pale, thin woman in a flimsy white dress and matching scarf. Her hair was woven into a single dark braid that flapped in the wind like a loose rope. When resting, her hair must have been down to her hips. She looked like a ghost and Harold was frozen to the deck in terror. But no, her breasts rose and fell with each breath, and she occasionally raised and lowered her shoulders, shivering in the cool night air. She was no ghost.

  Still, it took a few moments for Harold to gather his courage and approach her. He didn’t want to frighten her either, being right up against the rail as she was. He was just wondering how to get her attention when she turned to him and smiled. It was a beautiful smile with full red lips. He stammered his greeting.

  “Hello. I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be up here. Or that anyone else was on board. Besides the captain and whatever Miss Mika is. And did you know there’s a crazy engineer in the basement? Not the basement. They don’t have basements on airships, do they.”

  The woman’s smile broadened and she giggled. Harold couldn’t keep from smiling back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should probably start again.”

  “Pleasure to meet you. I’m See...”

  Her lips froze and her gaze seemed to shift over Harold’s shoulder. He turned to look, but saw nothing there. The woman (was her name really See?) then stepped swiftly past him and toward the door to the hallway.

  “Oh! Wait!”

  Harold stumbled in his haste to catch up to her. When he reached the bottom of the stairs and pushed open the door, she was gone. She must have disappeared into one of the other six doors. Had she returned to her own cabin? Was it impolite to go knocking on doors? Considering this was the middle of the night, it probably was rude. Harold returned to his own cabin and lay awake most of the night pondering this mysterious passenger. Mika definitely hadn’t said anything about other women being on board, only the crazed engineer. Nor had the captain. He would confront them in the morning. He didn’t like being kept in the dark. And with that decision made, he turned out the lamp and went to sleep.

  ***

  The next morning at breakfast (more of the same brown slop), the captain did not join them on deck, so Harold could only confront Mika, which he honestly found less daunting then the two of them together.

  “I never said you were the only passenger on board,” she protested between mouthfuls. “I said the only other man was the Gentleman. Which is true, in a manner of speaking.”

  “Well, speak more plainly then,” Harold retorted.

  She fixed him with a look. “You’re the only passenger I have to worry about feeding or getting sunburned.”

  He opened his mouth to reply, stopped, and considered her words carefully while she went on eating.

  Was it possible that woman, that pale, too lovely woman with the luscious red lips wasn’t human? Was she an Other? Sweat slithered down Harold’s spine.

  “But you said you’d never have goons on board!” he burbled.

  Mika shrugged. “Goons are bad news. I hate goons. Did the person you saw look like a goon?”

  Harold coloured. “No.”

  “There you are then.”

  “There...? What? Why did you allow me to think I was the only passenger when there are at least two more?”

  “Because,” said Captain Grayburn from behind him. “You didn’t need to know. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t babble on about it. Some people like their privacy.”

  He turned and saw her standing with arms akimbo. “I’m sorry,” Harold stammered. “I didn’t mean any offence. I just felt...”

  “Like we were cheating you?” the captain demanded.

  “No! Not that. I just...” Harold felt foolish. “I just don’t like being lied to.”

  “World’s full of lies and half truths,” Captain Grayburn answered. “If you didn’t know that by now, we’ve done you a valuable service.”

  “Nothing’s changed,” Mika put in, handing the captain a bowl of breakfast. “We’ll still get you to New London. There’s a latch on your door if you’re worried about someone coming in at night. And if it makes you feel any better, I will personally vouch for your safety for the duration of your stay on the Mermaid.”

  Captain Grayburn nodded her agreement. Harold regarded the two women who ate in silence. They seemed totally unconcerned. Perhaps he really had nothing to be concerned about. He apologised again, and the women both shrugged.

  ***

  Later that afternoon, the Mermaid’s Revenge landed near a human farming community to pick up supplies. A small group came out to greet them selling sweets, trinkets, and snacks. Harold purchased a bag of nuts and a journal to read later.

  He noticed a tall, spindly man talking to a local who looked like a mechanic. He wore a grease-stained leather apron, and his long hair was tied back in a thick ponytail. He hadn’t removed his dark goggles from his eyes. Harold could hear his high-pitched cackling laugh from across the field. That had to be the Gentleman, he decided, and it was definitely not the same voice that he had heard in the night speaking to the captain. His assumption was confirmed when Mika started yelling at the man to get moving. He obediently loped off to do her bidding. There was no sign of the two mystery passengers.

  ***

  That night, back in the air, Harold stayed awake with one ear pressed to the door, hoping to hear the woman (whom he’d come to think of as See) pass in the hall. There was never even a whisper outside his door. Eventually, he decided he may as well go in person and see if she had appeared. He was fairly certain now that she was not a ghost, though if she were an Other, he might have new reason to worry.

  But See didn’t look inhuman. In the stories his mother had told him, Others always had glowing eyes, mouths full of razor-sharp fangs (the better to devour naughty children with), and their hands were supposed to end in knife-like claws. Maybe he had, indeed, seen Others in his life, Harold mused, and simply hadn’t recognised them. They were supposed to be fabulously wealthy and lived in an entirely different world alongside the humans with whom they shared the planet Nyx. Harold went to the foredeck, hoping to meet See again, and perhaps if she were there he could ask her if she really wasn’t human.

  When he crept onto the stairs, gently closing the door behind him, Harold did find See waiting at the rail as she had before, only this time she was not alone. A man stood at her side, cradling her hand in his. He had short brown hair and wore the finest pinstripe brown suit that Harold had ever seen. This man was either an Other, or the richest human on Nyx.

  Harold crouched low, using the stairs to the upper deck to hide himself from the pair. Bits of conversation floated his way.

  “Are you worried?” the man asked See. His voice matched the one Harold had heard in the hallway speaking with the captain.

  See smiled at him. “Should I be?”

  “No, of course not.”

  Harold could see that his words were meant to comfort her, but there was a look in the man’s eyes that intimated he was less assured than he wanted her to believe.

  “Nico,” See admonished. “Then why the secrecy?”

  The man, Nico, drew her toward him. “I just want to be careful, that’s all.”

  See wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed. They stayed together like statues for a few moments, embraced by the half-light of the moon. Harold didn’t even try to take his eyes away, they were so beautiful together.

  “You’ll have me forever,” See told him as they at last parted.

  A feral smile crossed Nico’s face. He nudged See’s head to one side and gently pressed his lips against her neck just below her ear, then again further down, leaving a trail of kisses down her white neck.
See’s body went rigid for a second, then she relaxed with a moan into his arms. Harold’s face burned, but he felt frozen to the spot, watching, unblinking.

  With one arm still wrapped firmly around her back, Nico ran his free hand slowly down her side, tracing with one finger the curves of her waist then hip. See rolled her body in response to his touch, as if trying to press herself further into him.

  “Ah!” she gasped. “Shouldn’t we go back to our cabin?”

  Nico snorted. “Too small.”

  Both of his hands moved to twist her hips, and she turned to face away from him, giving him full access to her breasts and the button between her legs. See threw her head back as one hand pressed against each spot. Nico pressed his lips again to her neck. See’s legs shook and her hands flew to the railing to prop herself up.

  And then he wasn’t just kissing her. Harold wasn’t certain at first - maybe it was just a trick of the light - but the sweat dribbling down his spine told him he was right. Nico’s mouth was latched onto See’s neck, and while she shuddered and wobbled against him, he didn’t move. He wasn’t human.

  Harold told himself that he should flee. His cabin door was only a few steps down the hall, and Mika had told him there was a latch to lock it. He tried to move, to crawl even, but he couldn’t even get his legs to twitch. His eyes were glued on the pair at the railing as if enchanted.

  Nico unclamped his mouth and trailed kisses along See’s shoulders and exposed upper back. He snaked one hand down See’s thigh and bit by bit pulled up her glowing white dress. She bent a little at the waist and stuck out her rear. Gathering her skirt up over the small of her back Nico pulled See’s lace panties down to her thighs (Harold’s face and ears burned.). He then unbuttoned the front of his trousers and, judging by the way See’s jaw dropped and her body jerked, entered her quickly.

  Nico’s arms wrapped firmly around her as they ground together so she wouldn’t fall. Harold could see the man - the Other - was strong. He didn’t think he could hold himself up, let alone another person had their roles been reversed.

  Just as Harold felt pulled together enough to perhaps inch his way through the door toward the safety of his cabin, See let out a shout, then a moan that rose and fell. Her elbows bent, straightened, then bent again and she lowered her head, spent. Nico gave a few more thrusts, then settled against her. He kissed her back, her neck, withdrew himself, pulled her panties back up and lowered her dress. As he buttoned up his pants, his eyes slithered over to Harold’s hiding spot, a terrible smirk on his face.