Beastmen & Shapeshifters: Three Breeding Stories (3 page)

“Of course,” Yassine said.

“Do we really need to stay in our cabin?” Margaux
asked.

“It’s safest, miss. Everyone on deck will be lashed
to something. A storm like this can get mighty rough.”

Margaux nodded. “I’ll go tell Giselle.”

***

The ship pitched forward, sending the hammock swaying
dangerously close to the cabin wall. Thunder rumbled over the ship,
and Margaux knew the rain had to be pouring, though she
couldn’t hear it over the crash of the waves.

“Are you sure this is smart?” Margaux asked their
cabin-mate.

“Stay in your hammock,” Giselle said.
“We’ll just get in the way if we leave the cabin.
Probably get swept away if we go on deck.”

“Do you think the cook has anything we could
eat?”

“In weather like this? Nothing but bread and salt pork,
probably.”

“Oh.” Margaux squeezed her hands around the hammock.
Her stomach ached. The ship’s bread was hardly edible, and
she’d barely nibbled at it for the day the storm had raged.
The ship groaned as another wave slammed into it, and wood popped
and creaked beneath them.

Be safe, Yas. Don’t do anything foolish.

The hammock swung toward the rear of the cabin as the front of
the ship pitched upward. A great bone-shattering crunch
reverberated through the ship.

“We’re breached,” Giselle cried. “We
have to get out!” She clawed at her hammock and threw her
legs over the side.

“But Yassine!”

“There’s no time for him. We need to get off this
ship before it breaks up.”

“Did we run aground?”
Oh Gods, Yassine,
don’t die on me.

“We must have.” Water seeped under the door of the
cabin. “Out. Now.”

Margaux let the other woman duck under her hammock, then
clambered after her. Water rushed into the cabin as Giselle opened
the door. It grew from ankle high to knee high as they sloshed
through it, desperately trying to reach the ladder to the deck.
Timbers groaned. The ship shook beneath them.

Giselle practically flew up the ladder. She hammered her fists
against the hatch. “It’s stuck.”

Margaux frantically looked around. The water was nearly to her
waist. “What should we do?”

“The captain’s cabin.” Giselle eschewed the
ladder for a straight leap. She splashed down beside Margaux. She
plucked at Margaux’s arm and dragged her along behind her as
she waded back the way they’d come.

Margaux couldn’t tell if the rumble was thunder or the
ship itself, but a deep wall of sound washed over them as they
waded toward the cabin. Something in her bones told her that the
ship was about to come apart. The water level dropped even as the
crashing sound of waves grew louder. The door to the
captain’s cabin hung open from a skewed frame. Giselle tugged
it open as far as she could. It was enough for her to squeeze
through the gap and for Margaux to follow.

The captain’s cabin had a window that stretched across the
rear of the ship. Well, it used to have—the window lay
shattered across the floor. Broken shards of glass hung in the
opening. Waves rushed by beyond the frame, passing from right to
left. The ship groaned again.

“We’re beached alright,” Giselle said.

“What do we do?”

“We get off this ship. Can you swim?”

Margaux’s eyes grew wide. “A little.”

Giselle held out her hand. “We’re going out that
window. Hold onto me. I’ll help.”

Margaux nodded.
I’m going to die.
She felt guilty
for thinking of herself first.
Forgive me, Yas.

“Take a deep breath as you jump. One. Two.
Three.”

They sprinted forward and leapt through the open window. The
wind whistled past Margaux’s ears. She watched the water race
up to meet her and never saw the wave that crashed into her from
the side.

Cold. Wet. Gasping. Sputtering. Choking. Darkness.

***

“Wake up.” The voice seemed distant, blurry.
Something slapped her across the face. “Margaux! Wake
UP!”

Margaux blinked her eyes open. Giselle stood over her, her face
in a rictus of fear. “I…” Margaux began, but
couldn’t continue. She spewed water onto the beach. She felt
like she was drowning all over again, so she rolled to her hands
and knees. Her stomach heaved as she hacked and coughed and gagged.
The sea still raged behind her; waves crashed into the shore as
thunder rumbled overhead. Rain spit down, adding insult to her
soaking injury.

“Thank the gods, you’re alive.” Giselle patted
her on the back, waiting for her to finish.

“Did anyone else make it?”

“There are tracks, but I don’t think they’re
from any survivors.”

“Yassine?”

“No sign of him.”

Margaux’s heart fell.
He’ll make it. He’s
strong and smart and…
and storms don’t
care.
She looked around the beach, hoping for any sign of him,
but only finding crashing waves and empty sand. She took
Giselle’s hand and let the other woman pull her to her feet.
She pushed a hand through her hair and tossed aside a slimy strand
of seaweed. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. It could be Guilder. It could even be
Florin.” She shuddered. “We need to get off the beach.
Come on.”

It took all she could muster, but Margaux followed Giselle into
the tree line. She wanted to wait and watch; to give Yassine every
chance to find her. Rain still wormed its way through the canopy,
but it fell as drips rather than a steady torrent. “Are we
going to setup camp?” Margaux asked.

Giselle stopped and hunched over, her hands on her knees.
“We should. We need to build a fire and dry out. We can look
for survivors in the morning.”

“Okay.” Margaux looked around. “What do I need
to do?”

“Have you ever slept outside?”

“No.”

Giselle sighed. “Find any wood you can that’s
already on the ground. The drier the better.”

Dry wood in this rain?
“Alright.” She pushed
her way through the underbrush, searching for firewood. She felt so
helpless in the woods. She was a city girl, a merchant’s
daughter.
At least I have Giselle.

An hour of searching and dragging resulted in a sizable pile.
The woods were getting too dark to keep looking for more. Giselle
produced a tiny knife and somehow lit them a fire in the shelter of
the tree.

“What are we going to eat?” Margaux asked.

“That’s a fine question. We can search the beach in
the morning. Maybe some ship’s stores will wash
ashore.”

“That sounds g—”

Something cracked in woods. Giselle’s head jerked up. She
gripped the knife and stared into the trees in the direction of the
sound.

“What was—”

“Shh,” Giselle said.

A rough hand wrapped around Margaux’s mouth. Another
wrenched her arm behind her back and twisted it painfully.
“Mmmghmm.” She kicked her feet and tried to pull away.
Wide eyed, she glanced over at Giselle. A roughly dressed man with
thick arms and a thicker beard had the other girl in a headlock
similar to her own.

“Well, well, a pair o’ young pretties, all alone in
me woods.” A younger, less hairy man strode out of the trees.
He stopped on the other side of their fire and looked them over.
The leer on his face made Margaux’s stomach twist.
That is
not a nice man.

“Can we take them here, boss? Or should we, err, take them
back home?”

“On your feet, wenches,” the younger man, clearly
their leader, said. “We’ll take them back home. I
don’t think anything will come looking for these two, not
judging by the ship on yonder rock. I’m surprised these rats
managed to drag themselves to shore.”

The hand around Margaux’s mouth loosened its grip. She
sucked in a deep breath, the better to scream for help. Maybe they
were wrong. Maybe Yassine and some sailors had escaped.

“I wouldn’t, princess,” the leader said.
“All you’ll do is annoy me.”

“HEL—”

A fist crashed into her stomach, knocking the air from her
lungs. She gasped for breath. The leader stood right in front of
her. He had somehow covered ten feet in a fraction of a second.

“Who are you?” Giselle asked.

“I’m your new master,” the leader said.

***

Margaux shivered, the cold breeze chilling her still damp dress.
Yassine, where are you?
She sobbed quietly, trying not to
draw more attention to herself. In the course of a week her whole
life had been turned upside down. First her father, then the
shipwreck, and now this group of… of brigands. The fear left
her nearly paralyzed. She couldn’t tell if the hard ache in
stomach was fear or hunger or both.
Probably both
, she
decided
.

The sound of fat dripping into the fire and sizzling on the
coals didn’t help, either. They made her stomach rumble. The
smell of cooking pork filled her nose and made her mouth water. She
rubbed her hands against the cave wall, trying to loosen the rope
that bound her wrists. She didn’t dare hope she could
actually escape, but maybe loosening them would bring back some of
the feeling to her hands.

Deeper in the cave the sounds of feral rutting emerged. The
leader had dragged Giselle into the darkness half an hour before,
and the other girl’s cries of fear had been replaced with her
panting breath and a wet slapping sound.

One of her captors stood in the mouth of the cave. He noisily
sucked at a haunch of meat as he stared at her. “You’re
next, you know. The master always insists he go first with the new
girls. Then he lets the rest of us take turns.”

“And what if I fight? Will you just beat me and fuck
me?”

He shrugged. “I reckon. It’s not so bad here, you
know. Once you get used to it I mean. The other girls don’t
seem to mind too much.”

Other girls? I haven’t seen a soul but these six
savages.
She pushed herself back against the wall, as far from
him as she could get.
Oh Yassine, come for me soon.
She
couldn’t give up hope that he was alive. She just
couldn’t.

The bandit grinned, his teeth glistening in the firelight.
“You’ll learn soon, little rabbit.” He wandered
back outside and left her there, back literally to the wall.

After maybe another half-hour—it was hard to tell in the
darkness—Giselle shuffled toward her from the rear of the
cave.

“Are you alright?” Margaux asked.

“No,” Giselle said. Her tone was flat. Hard. She
passed out of the mouth of the cave and sat by the fire. One of
their captors came and sat beside Giselle. He passed her a piece of
meat, then put a very suggestive hand on her thigh.

Margaux watched, jealous of the other girl’s food. Her
hunger consumed her.

“Are you hungry?” a man’s voice whispered into
her ear.

Margaux jerked away. Her heart raced. The leader sat beside her,
and she hadn’t heard a sound from him until he spoke.
“Y-yes.”

“If you satisfy me, I’ll let you eat all you
want.”

“I… I don’t know how.”

He laughed. “You’ll learn. Now, do you want to eat
afterward or not?”

She nodded.
Keep them happy. Give Yassine time. He’ll
come for me. He will.

He untied his trousers and tugged them down his hips. His cock
hung between his legs like an oversized sausage. He took it in his
fist and lifted it. It glistened in the light.

“Suck it,” he ordered. “If you bite me,
I’ll wring your neck.”

That’s it?
She bent over him, opening her
mouth.

He grabbed her hair and forced her to his dick. He tasted like
sweat and musk and woman. As his shaft rubbed along her tongue, she
realized she was sucking her friend’s juices off his member.
He wrapped his fingers through her hair and pushed her down
further, forcing himself deeper into her mouth. She gagged as his
cock hit the back of her throat, but it only made him grunt. He
jerked her head up and down, forcing her to move at his rhythm. She
didn’t so much suck him as try not to suffocate.

“Suck that cock, wench. That’s right.” He
crammed his dick down her throat and held her there as she gagged
on it.

Margaux felt his cock get harder. He forced it even further down
her throat, making her gag reflex trigger again. She gasped for
air, but couldn’t breathe. Her face started to turn blue.

“Good,” he whispered.

He held her there until she thought her lungs would burst, then
yanked his cock out of her mouth.

She fell to her knees on the floor of the cave, spitting and
choking and gagging and trying to get air into her lungs.
Did he
even come? Why couldn’t I have just drowned at sea?
Yassine wasn’t coming. And if he did, would he want what he
found?

“I’ll be back with your dinner,” he said.

Margaux nodded. Her stomach still ached, but not nearly as much
as her heart. He returned a moment later and dropped a sizzling
chunk of meat in front of her.

“Eat it,” he said.

“My hands?” They still felt numb behind her
back.

He shrugged. “If you’re hungry, you’ll
eat.” He waited until she flopped forward, eating it off the
floor like she was some kind of animal. She felt so vulgar, but her
stomach ached for food. She ate the meat, gristle and all.

“You’ll get more tomorrow if you satisfy me.”
He left her there, alone and hungry. The smell of the food made her
guts wrench, and she lay on the rug, crying until she fell
asleep.

***

The evening dusk crept in on the camp. The bandits had taken
their fun with Giselle the night before, but Margaux knew it would
be her turn soon. They hadn’t so much as mentioned signs of
other survivors, and her hope was fading. She had spent the day
tied up in the cave and her arms ached. They didn’t ache as
much as her stomach, though.

The leader and two of his goons sat with Margaux and Giselle
around the fire. Grease dripped down Margaux’s chin. She
sucked the rib bone clean and sucked the fat from her fingers.