Short Fiction,  Smut Relay

Smut Relay Part 3: Decisions, decisions

Continued from Smut Relay Part 2 – In Cahoots by Wriggly Kitty

The iron gate of the holding cell in the hull of the ship slammed shut behind them with a clang. Richard leapt towards Eleanor, encircling her in his arms, carefully holding her, avoiding the bruises and scrapes.

“Oh Elly, I’m so sorry … what did that animal do to you?”

With her head buried in Richard’s neck, Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood and her eyes filled with tears. She sobbed, if not a bit dramatically, into his shoulder.

“Richard … it was … oh I can’t! I can’t even say the words.”

He hushed and held her, soothing what he thought were real tears as she prepared her next monologue.

“I’ll get us out of this, Elly. I promise. We will escape this hell, I’ll save us.” Richard began to pace, brow furrowed.

“How? How, Richard? Have you not noticed we are on a ship, at sea, going God knows where, with bloody pirates? How in the world will you save us? We’re going to die, here, Richard. I can feel it. This is it. They aren’t fucking around. You have to pay them.”

“Absolutely not! This is terrorism and I will not negotiate with these ragtag buccaneers and hand over our life savings! We will escape or we will be found. There has to be some sort of police presence on the water, a local Coast Guard – the resort will notice we are missing! – Elly, we can’t just give in. We just need a plan.”

“There’s no way out, Richard. When they took me … “ she paused to sniffle convincingly, “ when they took me to the cabins, I looked, there are no lifeboats, there are no emergency communication tools. This ship is meant to not be seen or found. In no time we will be twelve miles out and then what hope is there?”

Richard continued to pace, hands in fists, Elly leaned against a pile of crates in the corner of the dank cell, her shoulders slumped, hands folded passively in her lap. If reason wouldn’t convince him to pay she’d have to try harder.

“Please, Richard. I’m so scared.”

Richard’s attention turned to his wife, her beautiful skin marred with blooming bruises, her copper hair mussed by roughians’ hands and the sea air. She looked so frail, so sad, so lost. How could he not just do what was needed to protect her? He went to her and knelt in front of her, his hands clasping hers, kissing her knuckles.

“Elly, sweetheart, we have to try …” He kissed her hands again and looked up into her amber eyes. She took his jaw in her hands and stared into his face.

“Please Richard,” her eyes pooling and overflowing with tears, “Please,” she whispered, “Just pay them. Just give them what they want. Please, I’m so scared. What’s worse? That we’re broke and we have to start over? Or that we die at sea, never to be found? Everyone we love will forever wonder what became of us. This can’t be how our lives end, Richard. It can’t. Please, if you love me, just do what they say so this nightmare can be over.”

He lay his head against her naked thighs and exhaled. Perhaps she was right. What could he possibly do to save them? All he wanted was to comfort her, to be closer to her, to let his mind stop racing for just a moment so he could think clearly. Her hands pet his hair and her fingers wound themselves into his salt and pepper curls, all it took was a nudge of her hand on his neck and a slight shifting of her bottom on the rough crates for his face to push into the apex of her thighs, his mouth desperate for her familiar sweetness.

“Oh god, Richard … yes.”

Her sodden cunt was the perfect distraction. He bathed his whole face in it, lapping and suckling at her tenderly, then fiercely. She tasted different, new, and he gorged himself between her legs. If they were to die, money or not, he would at least have shown her the love and pleasure she aroused in him. Above his head, Eleanor rolled her eyes and counted the rusty nails in the beam above them, letting out a requisite ooh and ahh as needed. She had never cared for his technique and could barely stand that she was enduring his pathetic skills one last time. She took solace in the fact that soon she would live out her days on a secluded beach with all of Richard’s money and Jay’s exquisite mouth between her legs forevermore. Before she could fake her orgasm, her daydreaming, and Richard’s wild cunt noshing, was cut short by a low whistle and a slow clap from the dim beyond the bars of the cell. Jay’s unmistakably brawny silhouette was there, watching as Richard’s face came away from Eleanor’s lap, wet and panting.

“Looks like you two have done more than talk about your little predicament,” Jay chided.

Eleanor stared into his black eyes, her lip twitching as she tried not to smile. Richard scrambled to stand up and shielded Eleanor’s nakedness from their swarthy captor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“So? What have we decided? Pay up? Or take that long walk off a short plank?” He leaned in on the cell’s bars menacingly, his toothy smile antagonizing Richard and arousing Elly.

“You son of a bitch,” yelled Richard as he lunged towards a now laughing Jay.

“Richard!” Elly shrieked, “Just tell him ….”

“Tell me what, Richard?” taunted Jay. “What have you decided? Will it be the money? Or should I slit both your throats? No, maybe just yours and I’ll keep that little piece of ass for myself. I know the whole crew would love to take a turn.

Seething, Richard wrapped his hands around the bars and leaned in until he was nose to nose with Jay. Eleanor held her breath as Richard spoke.

“I’ve made my decision.”


To be continued … Smut Relay Part 4 by Hyacinth Jones

 

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