Princess Problems

He cleared his throat. "Carry on. Take us ashore when there's a spot the tide won't strand us," he ordered his crew. The first mate at the tiller nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Barone leaned down and reached under Elizabeth's shoulders to get a hold of her - his hands wrapping around to take hold of her breasts. He dragged her prone body back towards the mast in the center of the ship.

Some of the rower's eyes followed the noble woman's body as she was dragged nude across the deck of the ship. He set her at the base of the mast where a pair of shackles remained. He put her arms wrapped behind the mast, her wrists secured in the shackles. The captain patted Elizabeth on the cheek. "Maybe now you will stay out of trouble."

Barone brushed his hands and took over the tiller from his first officer.

-

Elizabeth woke to the sun shining directly in her face. "Ow," she muttered, quickly closing her eyes and moving her hands to cover her face. She couldn't. A rattle of metal confirmed to her that she was shackled in place. She could feel that the ship wasn't moving, and she was thankful for that.

As she looked around, she noticed that the ship was mostly empty. A few of the burly rowers were sleeping in the gaps between the benches - and she noticed most of them happened to be facing her - but most of the crew was missing.

She tried to stand up, but her legs were not strong enough to stand up from this position. It would've been hard for anyone to stand up like that, much less a soft-muscled noblewoman who had passed out twice in the last few hours. "Hello?" She ventured tentatively.

The ship remained quiet. She could hear what sounded like birds coming from off the ship. Her mind tried to come up with an explanation. She guessed they were docked somewhere. Perhaps already at the slave markets? But no, they weren't that close. How long had she been out, anyway?

"Hello?" She said a little louder. She was conscious of just how parched her throat felt. One of the rowers stirred. She thought he was going to wake up, but he just rolled over and fell still again. Elizabeth sighed. She accepted she was stuck until someone else came along.

She shivered in the cool morning air. The ocean spray that had landed on her was starting to dry in the warm sun, and it made her colder than she had been earlier. She tried to tuck her legs in to stay warm.

It felt like forever before she heard footsteps land on the deck. Her eyes shot open. Barone was standing in front of her, the sun shining behind him. "You are awake." He said matter of factly. His boot nudged her legs from in front of her face.

Elizabeth saw his attention focused between her slightly-spread legs. She gasped, offended, and crossed her legs on top of each other. "Pervert!" She shot, accusatory.

Barone raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Oh, you better get used to that, my lady," the last two words sounded like a taunt.

He grabbed a key from his belt and stepped behind Elizabeth to free her wrists. "Stand up and stretch."

The lady rubbed her wrists protectively. "Why? Just so everyone can ogle me again?"

Barone laughed again. "Yes. And you better get used to that. You know how many people go to the auctions? I would be surprised if there aren't at least a thousand people there to watch you and the other merchandise." He said it confidently, and Elizabeth had a feeling he wasn't making idle talk. "But you need to stretch to keep your body fresh."

Elizabeth knew this was the truth too. She turned away from him and did her best to stretch out her cramped shoulders. Barone started clapping. Elizabeth shot him a dirty look over her shoulder.

The clapping was loud enough to wake the crew that were still on the ship. They took a few seconds to wake up, but the sight of Elizabeth stretching in the nude seized their attention. Elizabeth was conscious of her little audience now - perhaps the most willing audience she could remember. She felt herself blush - mostly embarrassed but with a little bit of... pride? No, that couldn't be right.

Barone started talking again, but this time he wasn't talking to her. He was giving orders to the crew, and more men began to file into the ship carrying supplies from camping on the shore.

As some of the men filed past her, they grabbed a hold of one of her breasts, or pinched her nipple, or smacked her ass. Some just ran their hands over her skin gently. She held back the urge to slap their hands away - she couldn't imagine that would end well for her.

The men quickly prepared the ship to leave again. She saw Barone approaching her and rubbed her wrists delicately. "Don't tie me up like that again. It hurt."

Barone shrugged pragmatically. "Alright. It's not like you're going anywhere. You don't seem foolish enough to try and jump ship," his eyes twinkled in the morning sun. "I trust you will still keep the men company." His words carried the unmistakable tone of an order.

She wasn't used to getting ordered around. Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but quickly closed it as she realized there was a lot she had to get used to now. "Yes, sir," she said meekly.

"Good girl," Barone patted her on the head mockingly. "Alright men, Veronda is still four days away. Let's try to make it there in three." He turned back to his quarters, leaving the rest of the crew to carry out their work.

"Four days?" Elizabeth turned around, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Yeah, how fast do you think we go?" One of the rowers said, his words broken up by the back and forth motion of pushing and pulling on an oar.

"Don't fall down this time," one said, clearly holding back a laugh.

"Close your mouth, do you need one of us to fill it for you?" Another asked leadingly.

Elizabeth frowned and closed her mouth. She looked around the ship quickly - where could she go to be most out of sight? There was a small stool just behind the first mate at the tiller. She sat down and crossed her arms.

"T'what do I owe the pleasure?" His words danced with another accent she didn't recognize.

"Just staying out of sight."

The officer shot a short glance back at her, some lust in his eyes. "Well, that's a shame."

Elizabeth didn't answer. "Do you at least have a blanket? The ocean spray is cold. You don't want me to get sick, right?"

Another quick glance, this one annoyed. His lips were pursed. "Might be a few in the trunk over there." He jerked his head to the right.

Elizabeth grinned slightly to herself triumphantly. She opened the lid to the cabinet and pulled out the last blanket. It was small, and didn't cover her body much at all, but she was grateful for a little extra warmth. She took her seat again at the stool next to the second in command.

The day passed slowly. The crew was used to the journey and seemed content with silence. Occasionally, the rowers would chant to keep rhythm, but they were experienced and seemed to only need that to break up the monotony. Elizabeth spent time looking over the stern of the Notturno at the wake that was left behind.

Finally, the crew divided themselves into groups to take lunch breaks. Half the crew remained rowing while the rest ate - they would switch after a few minutes. Elizabeth was happy for anything that was different. She noticed a few of the men on break turned to look at her.

It was weird - she had adjusted to being naked in front of the men quickly. There was still a little thrill that went through her every time one of them had a particularly lustful look towards her, but the men kept their hands to themselves now. They seemed to be professional enough now that their work continued.

Elizabeth only heard snippets of conversation from some of the men.

"I'd like to have her in my bed... teach her a thing or two."

"How much do you think she'll go for? More or less than that peasant girl we had on?"

"Oh, definitely more. Like the cap'n says - people want to buy status. And she's a noble."

"She does realize she's getting sold into slavery, right?"

"I don't think she's the brightest."

"And you're one to talk, eh, Abram?"

There was a ripple of laughter.

Elizabeth frowned. What did they mean? She'd be a house servant for a bit, maybe. But she would obviously be recognized sooner or later and they'd set her free, obviously. And if not, someone would come to ransom her.

The lunch break was interrupted by the captain emerging from his cabin. His eyes lit up when saw Elizabeth sitting separately from the rest of the crew. "Men, where are your manners? Give Elizabeth the attention she deserves." He smiled widely, but it was not a kind gesture. It was not the first time she noticed he was like a predator.

He strode quickly across the deck, never once taking his eyes off the noblewoman, who instinctively wrapped the small blanket around herself tighter. His strong hand was quickly on her shoulder, and he ripped away the blanket. Elizabeth couldn't help but gasp in protest.

The veteran captain wasn't going to be swayed so easily. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She was forced to follow him along the length of the ship. He shoved her to the ground in front of a small group of men that were on their lunch break. "Entertain them."

Elizabeth brushed her hair from in front of her face, looking at the faces of the four men sitting around her. She managed a nervous smile. "Hello, men," she cringed as she heard herself. The rowers didn't seem to mind too much. Their eyes were fixated on her body.

The largest of the men had already finished eating, but had a bit of time before the two halves of the crew would switch. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards her. She let herself be pulled along, and he deposited her in his own lap.

"Good," he said simply.

She felt his legs tighten around her midsection. "Hey!" Her protests were cut short again, his calloused hand clamping over her mouth and nose.

"Quiet, woman." He said. He wasn't loud, or eloquent, but his size spoke volumes.

Elizabeth frowned. She whimpered a protest from behind the man's hand. Slowly, she felt the man's hand start to restrict the air from her lungs. Her whimpers continued, but continued to go unheard.

The oarsman was content to grab Elizabeth's boobs in his hand, kneading them firmly. As large as her breasts were, the man was able to hold her tit easily in one hand. His hand moved from one boob to the other, then down her belly and her hips, firmly grasping the sides of her ass.

The bright day started to dim to her as she struggled to get in full breaths.

"Sven, I don't think she can breathe," one of the man's companions said casually.

"Oh yeah, her face is really red." Another voice.

"Hmm?" Sven's hand stopped exploring her. He peered down at her face, a look of surprise on his mountainous features. "Oh." His hand disappeared from her mouth.

Finally, Elizabeth took a deep breath, her chest heaving. She rested her head on the large rower's torso. She felt a little light headed.

It didn't seem like she had been there long before another set of hands was on her, pulling her onto another lap. Her body was explored - her face, her breasts, her hips. A few hands even slipped between her legs, but none of the men did much there. She felt herself rolled over, while her butt was smacked. Anytime she made a noise of protest, another hand came to silence her.

She wasn't sure how many times she had changed hands. How many people were in the crew? Surely by now everyone had their fill, she hoped. Slowly she started to be more conscious of her surroundings as she was allowed to breathe normally.

None of the men had been straight up disrespectful, but she felt like no more than an object to these men. Their hands wandered, their eyes lingered, and then their hands wandered some more before passing her along to a friend.

It seemed the lunch break was over. One last set of hands said farewell to her body and she felt herself set unceremoniously down on the planks. She lay there for a second to catch her breath.

A few moments to herself was all she got. When she opened her eyes, there was a man peering over her. It was the first officer. He grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her sitting up. Elizabeth didn't want to go along, so she stayed limp.

The first officer made a face and let her drop back down to the deck. She winced. But the officer wasn't done with her, and he instead grabbed her legs and started dragging her backwards towards the bow of the ship. There were a few chuckles from the crew as they watched the naked noblewoman being dragged backwards by her ankles, her long brown hair splayed out behind her head, her pale body gliding smoothly over the worn wood of the deck.

She tried to keep her eyes closed as much as possible - it was disorienting being dragged like that. Blissfully, she was brought to a stop. When she opened her eyes, she was in a small blocked off area from the rest of the ship. Her legs were dropped to the floor. When she sat up, she saw the first officer sitting at a small table, peering down at her. He was chewing on something from a bowl - his midday meal.

"What?" She asked after waiting for a few seconds for the man to speak.

He tilted his head to the side. "I'm Patrice."

"Ok."

"The men had their fun with you," he grinned widely, his teeth yellowed and crooked.

Elizabeth crossed her arms. "If you say so."

Patrice nodded enthusiastically. "Ay, they did."

"Hmph."

Patrice didn't seem to care about her discomfort. "So, how much do you think you'll go for?" His eyes twinkled with interest.

"How would I know?"

"Figured you might have some idea. Don' usually see a lady with a rack like that up there."

Elizabeth blushed.

"I'd say, ooh, maybe 200 gold coins."

"Is that a lot?" She ventured.

Patrice laughed. "'Is that a lot?'" He mimicked. "My my, you really must be some rich girl." He settled himself down. "It is a lot, though. I've seen more, mind you. But I'll put it this way: you'll give our little crew a nice bounty."

"You're welcome," she huffed. She didn't know what else to say.

Patrice offered her a goblet. "Want some?"

She eyed the goblet a little more suspiciously after what had happened with the captain back in her hometown's pub.

"Don't worry, just wine. It eases the nerves," he grinned innocently.

The brunette believed him. She gratefully took the goblet and drank it quickly. She licked her lips and looked at him, her eyes wide and pleading. "Another?"

The sailor shrugged magnanimously, pouring one for himself and another for her. She took her time, but started to feel a warm buzz start to come over her. As she talked with Patrice, she opened up more, she laughed, she almost forgot that she was being kept prisoner. A bit more wine flowed, and the sun started to go down.

It had been some time before there was a swift knock on the side of the enclosure, and Captain Barone's face appeared. "Keeping her entertained, are we?" His voice was terse.

Patrice looked up. He looked at the sun, starting to set over the starboard side of the ship. "I lost track of the time, sir."

Barone didn't say anything. He offered his hand to Elizabeth. "If you will." She took his hand and stood up carefully from the floor. His grip on her hand was firm, and as she was pulled along, she felt her head start to swim. "Oh," she said weakly.

Barone looked behind him briefly, but wasn't bothered. He guided her to a small padded bench that had been set up at the front of the ship. He shoved her none-too-gently down on the bench.

She giggled. "Hee hee!" As she looked around the ship, the constant motion on the waves compounded on her drunkenness and her dizziness only grew. Her brief goofiness from moments before disappeared. "Oh..." she groaned.

"Lie down," he said curtly.

"Mmhmm, whatever you say," she nodded, giving a little salute. She carefully lowered herself to the makeshift mattress. Barone took her wrists and tied them loosely to the frame of the table with some rope. It was enough to still give her leeway as she slept, but short enough to effectively make the temporary bed the end of her leash.

Gratefully, she lay back and closed her eyes. A small blanket was tossed over her. She was asleep by the time someone chose to remove the blanket for everyone to continue to get to watch her.

The next few days were more of the same. She'd wake up once the crew finished camping along the shore for the night, then spend her day nude on the Notturno. She'd gotten comfortable with being exposed like this over time. A few days ago, she could not have imagined it, but she really had no other choice but to put up with it.

On one of the days, the air started to feel warmer. She overheard some of the men talking about being close to Verdona. They had made good time, and would be able to make the end of week auctions - those always drew the largest crowds. It was midafternoon when Elizabeth was able to see larger buildings appear off the port side. The sounds of the sea were replaced by the sound of a town.

She was about to stand up and take in the sight of the city when a firm hand pressed down on her shoulder. "We're here." It was Barone.

"I know," she said.

"That means it's time to put you in storage."

Elizabeth started to turn. Barone held a smell pouch underneath her nose. She couldn't stop herself from inhaling, and a strong - but not unpleasant - fume washed over her. Her eyes crossed and she moaned quietly. Her muscles one by one turned to jelly, and she started to lean backwards against Barone - first for support, then out of necessity, as her head swam and she slipped into unconsciousness again.

Both Barone and Patrice caught her, and lowered her delicately to the ground. They tied her wrists together and her ankles together, then gagged her with a clean rag. Expertly, they lifted her limp body up and stuffed her in a crate. The lid of the crate was shut and carried into a waiting wagon, as well as other various merchandise and stolen goods from the ship's hold. The wagon was driven towards the town square.

Barone and Patrice escorted the wagon to a large building. The goods were unloaded, and before two men went to haul off the crate holding Elizabeth, they stopped one and whispered something to him. His eyes widened and he nodded. "I understand." He motioned for two other men to come over.

"Take this to the back room. It will need special attention." The worker spoke with a similar accent to Barone.

The two men nodded, taking the crate back out of sight. Barone and Patrice followed.

The back room was much smaller than the main warehouse. There were an assortment of large boxes, crates, and trunks across the floor. Some were still closed, others had been opened and the soon-to-be slaves lay on the ground next to them. A few were conscious already.

Barone took stock of some of the people that would be sold, mentally making a note of where he should try to get Elizabeth sold to drive her value the highest. He had been in the business a while and knew most of the tricks.

Once the crate was set down along an empty spot of the room, Barone and Patrice cracked open the case. They pulled Elizabeth's body out and set her sitting up on top of the crate, her back leaning against the wall of the room.

Patrice produced a small bag from around his waist, and Barone and Patrice got to work. They knew the value of appearance at the market, so they quickly gave Elizabeth a makeover - something to take away the wear of a few days of sea travel. They tossed a powder in her hair and massaged it in, doing their best to add some luster back to the woman's brown hair.

A variety of small brushes were used on her face - one to brighten her lips, another to sharpen her eyebrows, another to emphasize her eyes, another to powder her cheeks. A clean rag was dipped in water and ran over her body. The men lifted her arms and legs as necessary, dropping them back down none-too-gently. The two officers had done this many times before, and it didn't take them long before they were happy with their handiwork.