We all heard the rumours. The whispers through camp; Captain Ashton was hard on his men, but a rotating line of women were seen vacating his tent.
It was a rule; no fraternising. He preferred his men to take all that pent up energy out on the battlefield. And his public executions of the warriors he caught mid-romp were enough to validate his point. He held a high standard for his men -- but he was a dictator, not a leader; so enjoyed what he denied them.
No-one dare question him. His history told itself; he was always victorious.
When no man laid a hand on us, his offer was a deep seeded temptation. That I had yet to stoop to, but Madeline had me all worked up with that scene in the shower. Our mistress liked us competitive and playful. I read the words she sent me now, and feel a shiver down my spine. I hear young Madem sought out your instruction, she knows you have my favour.
I rolled my eyes; Madeline could be her favourite, that would save me time scrubbing off her scent in the showers. That's precisely where I'd been interrupted by the new voluptuous maiden.
"How do you kiss? It makes Mistress moan so lovely" -- well I simply close my eyes and envision Captain Ashton's latest squire.
He is a devilishly handsome man, always slick with the sweat from his position working under the most hated man.
"Show me how you kiss so sweetly" she pushed me against the shower wall, clamouring to wrap herself around me; "I want to feel how you make her feel"
I push the bizarre memories away as I pushed her away. Too soft. She was too soft, rubbing herself against me. I barely hold my sanity in our Mistress's presence; I don't need her sniffing around too. I spot the squire slinking around the tents, ensuring the men are not seeking the pleasures Captain Ashton despises. Now he, does not look soft at all.
I imagine his arms clutching me, holding me in place for him to have his way. The thought makes me tremble, my legs feel weak. His strong hands clasping my hips as he leverages himself into me, again and again. A man's touch, that's what I need.
But how desperate am I?
I've palmed off Captain Ashton for so long, as my Mistress likes us pure. I roll my eyes again. That ship sailed before the war. Now I'm nothing but a fool, trying to survive the damn thing. If I could grow to love a woman's touch; Madeline's advances would be more useful, now all they achieve is making it harder to resist the cocky Captain.
"There you are" hmm that sleep deprived voice. I lean toward the sound and open my eyes from my pondering.
I gasp, the squire himself stands before me. I take in his chiselled jaw, and luscious lips. The muscles on his arm bulge gaining my attention. I swallow a lump as I coast down his sculptured body, and chance a glance at his straining core.
"I wondered how you fared from your shower" he drawls and my attentions back to his lips, twitching with anticipation.
"Ahhh the mysterious witness" I respond in kind. I thought I heard someone leave the shared space as Madeline started moaning my name.
"Didn't think it was my business to interrupt"
"Is that not your job?" I enquire.
"It is, and yet I couldn't bring myself to interrupt you" he smiles coyly.
I quirk an eyebrow, "Well I could've used your help in that scenario"
He looks confused for a moment and twitches a little.
"But if you ever wanted to interrupt my shower I might be more inclined" I bravely add, glancing up at him from under my eyelashes, in a psychotic attempt to be seductive.
I watch his adam's apple bob as he gulps at my brazenness. We both know the consequences of even entertaining the thought. Yet 'm rooted in place, eagerly awaiting his reaction. My cheeks colour as the seconds tick past.
"SQUIRE" we both flinch at Captain Ashton's voice. As he turns to see the direction it comes from, I'm pulled to my senses and retreat to the shadows. I watch from behind a tree as he turns back and notices my absence before scurrying off to give his nightly report to the devil.
I put a hand to my chest to tame my beating heart and let out the breath I was unknowingly holding. I close my eyes and see his face. I know I'm wet from just that small encounter. And I know I won't last long without relief from this pent up attraction.
I aimlessly wander back to my quarters on the other side of camp. Had I been caught on the men's side, I would risk my position, my life. It was worth it to speak with the hunk of my dreams. These thoughts are dangerous. Somehow the danger lures me to him more.
In my private section I disrobe and ready myself for bed. Not even Madeline will be bothering people past curfew. I allow my fingers to tantalise my body; slowly stroking them down my arm, across my belly, around my breasts. I close my eyes and picture him, caressing myself more roughly as if it's his hands touching my skin.
My fingers -- his fingers -- find their way to my sensitive bundle of nerves and push and nudge my clitoris until my hips are bucking along. I take in a breath as I roughly shove two fingers inside, imagining it's just one of his. I envision his throat bobbing as he watches me come apart.
It's not enough. My thoughts are not enough. Not after Madeline's naked body pressed against mine, slick with the water from the shower. Not after her begging and hearing her moan my name. Not after seeing him stand before me. Not after admitting my attraction.
But I can't seek him out. His job is to ensure nobody gets sexual release without his precious Captain knowing. Dare I?
I rise from my bunk and wrap a robe around myself. My rational brain gone with the need for release; my feet move of their own accord as my mind races with reasons I should go back to bed. His tent is close quarters to the captain, this is madness. And yet I'm drawn to that direction.
I'm breathing heavily outside his tent on the edge of camp. I can't bring myself to open it. Adrenaline and hormonal tendencies forgotten; I'm frozen with the fear of being caught. I hear movement inside. A continuous shuffling sound; pacing or dare I say it -- masturbating. I hear a grunt, and a curse. Something dislodged, knocked over or thrown aside. A whispered breath -- was that my name? I gasp, and quickly cover my mouth with a hand. Silence falls.
I swallow, footsteps heading in my direction. I should leave, I should run. But did he say my name? The zip to the tent slowly opens.
I stare into his eyes, and he stares back at me. He snaps to attention, looks around, grabs my hand and hauls my into his private tent. He zips it back up, and leans towards the exit, takes a deep breath and turns back to me.
I smile and shrug, he shakes his head smiles back and stalks towards me.
We meet in the middle. His hands framing my face, mine on his torso as hard as I knew it would be. I melt myself into him; soft meeting hard. His lips touch mine, once, twice then he dives inside. I wrap my legs around him and feel a hard bulge the size of my forearm rub against my core, I push against it, wanting, needing more.
I moan, and the spell is broken. He pushes my away.
"You can't be here, we can't do this."
"I know" I swallow, his eyes flare.
He turns away from me and paces a few steps, shaking his head and practically growling. The sound tugs at my loins.
"But I need you" I whisper.
He looks up and rubs his hands through his dishevelled hair, down his face. He looks in turmoil, my instincts scream to go to him but I hold firm.
"There is a way" he looks conflicted, defeated.
