The Cabin in the Sky

"Obviously, you require some persuasion to see our way of doing business. CHIHO!" she snaps. He lumbers over and puts a giant hand on your chest, effortlessly pinning you to the bed, his face vaguely apologetic. The Black Orchid, moving viper fast, slices through the ties on your wrap pants, yanking them roughly off your body.

You twist this way and that, but she catches your ankles, one by one, and secures them fast with a strap. She crawls back up your body, her leather bodice rubbing against the exposed skin of your legs, then your thighs, her fingers roaming up your body as Chiho lifts his hand off your chest and looms nearby.

She presses her slender body against yours and whispers in your ear,

"I was rather hoping you were going to require some persuasion, it has been a little while since I have had a chance to enjoy a lass as beautiful as you. Of course, it has been even longer for Chiho. You see, with his size and lack of persuasive skills, he has yet to enjoy the pleasure of female companionship for many a year, and I fear he has a terrible yearning for it."

Her skillful fingers bury themselves between your legs and start working your clit, quick and deft, bringing your breath in gasps.

"So I am asking you to reconsider your position. What say you?"

"I'll never speak a word unless you ensure my safety!" Your words ragged, betraying your arousal. She works her slender fingers in and out of your cleft.

"I was hoping you would say that." She gives a wicked grin, her dark hair shining in the pale grey light from the cabin window. She withdraws from you for a moment, shrugging her long coat to the floor and unstrapping her bodice. She glances over her shoulder, where Chiho is awkwardly standing next to the bed, watching intently. You can see the outline of his large cock stuffed down the leg of his wrap pants, throbbing to be free.

"Hold her arms." the Pirate commands. Chiho moves to the head of the bed, and grabs your arms, his face apologetic but his eyes ravishing your curves.

Free of her bodice, the pirate peels off her blouse letting her small breasts fall free, tipped with plum colored nipples, erect and ready. She crawls between your legs and you feel her breath, hot on your thigh. She nips at the soft inner part of your leg and you quiver with excitement.

"Ooooh, you are hot to trot." She purrs, wrapping her hands around your legs to steady herself. You feel her tongue begin to trace the outline of your nether lips. You writhe, your whole body coming alive but the straps hold your legs taut and Chiho barely waivers.

She swirls her tongue, fast and quick, around your clit while working two fingers in and out, pressing against that perfect spot inside. You are gasping as she goes faster and faster and then pause. She waits, and you scream in frustration.

"Will you help us?" She purrs. The smug look fitting oddly well onto Tanya's soft features.

"Fuck you!" You shout. She reaches up and strokes Chiho's cock through his pants, her hand cupping the large head, already soaking the cloth with his pre-cum. He gives an appreciative rumble.

She reaches down, fondling your sex, keeping the fire going. You shut your eyes, turning your head, trying to block it out. You feel her hand leave and then a strap tightening around each wrist, attaching your body to the bed. Now everything was tied down, although the ropes were loose enough that you could move somewhat. With you secure, Chiho moves to the foot of the bed. His eyes never leave you as the Black Orchid removes his pants.

She turns back to you, and lays open your shirt, your breasts standing tall with the arousal before she returns between your legs, working your sex with her lips and fingers.

"Ah! AH! AH! AH!" You pant wordlessly as the crescendo builds, roaring in your ears, the sensation rising . . . and then she pulls away. You scream your rage.

"Now now, look at what you've done to poor Chiho." The Black Orchid slides off the bed revealing Chiho, his broad shouldered chest heaving. In his massive right hand, he holds his cock. Even in his oversized features, it looks large and thick, his pendulous balls hanging down below like grapefruits, the tip dripping with pre-cum.

"Do you know how long it has been since he has felt a woman? And now, to have one as beautiful as you, here, wet and . . . well, not really willing, but still. Oh, it's going to be brutal."

Chiho stands there, naked, muscles tense, eyes locked on yours, searching for . . .something. Permission? Forgiveness? You try to speak but the Black Orchid grabs your face and turns you towards her.

"Last chance princess, are you going to help us?" You set your jaw. "Not unless you guarantee . . ." but she stomps away before you can even finish.

"Your funeral!" She shouts as she closes the door to her cabin, leaving you alone with Chiho.

He kneels between, pushing your legs wider and wider to fit around his midsection. Your mind races, your heart pounds in your ears, oh god, oh god. You feel the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your wet and throbbing pussy - it's so thick, you feel yourself stretching just to accommodate it's girth as he holds it just at the entrance.

His body stretches up above you, your eyes level with his broad chest. He looks down, his eyes searching yours, one hand guiding his cock, the other holding himself above you on the bed. You start rocking your hips, pushing against him, rocking that thick cock against your clit, desperate for that relief. He catches your gaze and you give him the slightest of nods.

He slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushes himself inside of you. Filling you, pressing against you from the inside, inch by inch. Your whole core is taut, your pussy convulsing as he puts pressure on every part of you from within. You look down, and he's only halfway inside. You arch your back, rolling your hips to try and accommodate him but you feel that pleasure building, shaking you like a shuddering engine.

Your eyes fly open in shock, usually you need some sort of stimulation to the clit to get you off but this is too much, she got you too close, your moist sex is squeezing him, rhythmically as you get closer and closer to that peak.

You feel his pubis touch yours as he finally bottoms out within you. He grinds down with hips and that sends you over the edge, your legs clenching uncontrollably on his back, your eyes rolling back in your head as the blinding hot orgasm sweeps through your body.

When your breath returns to you, you find him still there, holding himself perfectly still inside you, not having moved an inch. You give him an embarrassed smile which he returns and then ever so slowly pulls up slowly, tenderly. Oh, to be so open and empty, but then he slides all the way back into you, driving the breath from your lungs. Again, and again, he thrusts, his large balls slapping against your backside, the bed creaking under the furious assault.

To be taken, and used so fully, you twist this way and that against your restraints until finally he gives a shuddering gasp and you feel his balls jump. He tenses and floods your pussy with gallons of cum, filling you up and flowing out of you like a river as he disengages. You give a satisfied moan as he slumps forward onto you, careful not to give you his full weight.

As his breathing slowly returns to normal, you feel something wet on your cheek, looking up, you see tears pouring from his eyes.

"Oh Chiho!" you say, moving to reach up to comfort him but your hands are bound. He kisses you on the forehead, cupping your face in his hands and then sits up. He glances over to the door, and then back to you surreptitiously. He puts a finger to his lips.

Surprisingly deft for his sausage sized fingers, he quickly undoes your straps, freeing you from the bed and the small puddle around your waist. You rub your wrist and quickly gather your clothes. He retied his wrap pants and is moving a large chest as quietly as possible.

Underneath, there is a slender trapdoor. He points towards it and then you and then it. You throw it open, quickly descend down the ladder. Looking up, you see him blow you a grateful kiss before closing the trapdoor and sliding the chest back into place.

###

Your feet touch water, and you quickly swallow a startled gasp. The splash echoes through the space. Yes, this is the ship's hold, it's wet underbelly beneath the galley where they store waterproof barrels, and sand for ballast. A few dappled spots of light come in from somewhere far to the north, but there is little sound aside from the creaking of the wood of the ship and the slapping of the waves against the hull. The ship is moving swiftly now, and heading further into the storm, based on the way things are sloshing back and forth down here.

You wade your way through the hold when you start to hear it, that strange hum, just on the edge of your hearing. In the dim light, you see up ahead the hulking meteorite, grey and alien. As you approach, the surface of the metal seems to ripple and move.

Just beyond the meteorite, you see stairs up to the ship with a wood door with faded green paint. Faded green paint! You dash forward, sloshing your way through the hip high water. Yes, it is the same door to the cellar in the cabin, or the garden shed!

But now what to do -

You approach the meteorite. In the dim light and the sloshing water of the ship, the rippled surface bends and distorts your reflection, creating a constantly shifting mirage. You reach out and touch the surface of the orb . . .

And it was as if your whole body had been rung like a gong. You shake from your head to your toes with a teeth-chattering vibration as the water leaps up around you - freezing droplets in mid air and taking on an eerie blue glow.

We came from beyond. A voice that is not a voice whispers, like a forgotten memory rising, unbidden from the subconscious. The droplets form a glowing star and planets.

A world in crisis. One of the orbs of water fills with red cracks and shatters, sending tiny raindrops dripping down to the sloshing hold.

We fled, through the cold, vast expanse. A single tiny raindrop pauses in midair directly in front of your face, no larger than a fruit fly. It slowly makes its way to a larger droplet, a modeled green-blue orb of sloshing liquid suspended in air.

Tragedy strikes. The tiny droplet collides with the larger orb. We must rebuild. We must refuel. We must RETURN. The voice that is not a voice is urgent, pleading.

You who do not belong in this time. Find us in the future. Provide us what we need. Return us to our people. Return us and all you desire will be yours. Return us . . .

There's a loud splash from the hatch underneath the Captain's quarters and the sound of a blade being drawn. You snatch your hand away from the meteorite and stumble, still disoriented, towards the green door.

"You bitch, what have you done to my Chiho?!" you hear Black Orchid shouting as she slogs through the hip high water towards you. "He's a blubbering fool now, you whore!"

You haul yourself out of the water and make the mistake of looking back. You see a dagger hurtling towards you just as you turn the knob of the green door. The knife stretches in mid air as darkness envelops your world, whisking the ship, the knife and all with it down into a lightless void.

THUNK

Your feet land on the cold, hard concrete of the cellar floor and you stumble slightly, knocking into the table. Simone looks up from an old book she had found as you steady yourself.

"Sounds like you need some water." You look down at your suddenly dry clothes and shake your head. "No, no, I think I'm good." you reply. Caroline is now looking at the tall gowns in the corner and Tanya and Pixie are nowhere to be seen. You feel your cheek, no blood from where the cannonball shrapnel had grazed your face, but you don't want to rely on that for next time.

Looking at the empty table in front of you, it is clear the pattern has repeated. The ship in the bottle, and the brass name plate are gone.

Your mind races - so much, so quickly. You struggle to make sense of it all. What to do?

In the center of the room, two arabic curved swords are mounted on a rack, strange writing engraved on the blades themselves.

In the far right, a full suit of armor, dull and rusty, stands at attention, holding a polearm with a banner attached.

Near the stairs, an iron lantern with a red wicket hangs above a pile of colorful silk.

Finally, tucked at the very back of the room, you see a small tiki idol, a hunched carved totem surrounded by coconut shells.

Something else

You take a deep breath. Obviously, each jump means a person in the cabin disappears. Simone and Caroline, only two people left with you. You don't want to be alone trying to unravel this but you need more information.

You survey the remaining objects. After the cannonballs and assault on the sailing ship, you want something a little less violent. That rules out the swords and probably the suit of armor. There's the tiki idol in the corner but considering how things are going with the supernatural, that one could be intense.

You make your way next to the stairs where a small iron lantern, hanging on a metal ring mounted on the side of the cellar staircase. It's old, with a red glass wicket. Underneath there are a couple of silk scarves or maybe table clothes, folded haphazardly.

Hmm . . no name plate or any other clues. The red light could mean a brothel? Guess there is only one way to find out. You reach out and touch the lantern.

WHOOOSH

The falling sensation feels longer, different somehow, like there's a split second longer in the void before you slam down, hard, on a wooden bench, the jolt echoing through your body. You nearly drop the reins in your hands as you try and get your bearings.

"Hey there, Sally. No nodding off before we get to town." You hear a gruff voice next to you. "Need me to take over?" The horses pull at the reins and you hand them over without comment.

Next to you on the bench, no, the seat of the wagon, is a broad shouldered man with sandy blonde hair, wrapped tightly in furs and a coat. It's hard to make out beneath his broad brimmed hat and scarf but you'd peg him as Tom Hardy-ish.

Looking down at your own clothes, a thick coat, gloves, scarf, you are dressed much the same, and it is a good thing too, as the snow swirls around the horses as they plow through a forested road.

"Don't worry, just a few more miles and we're at the Silver Corner Saloon. You ever been to one of those silver houses up here in Idaho?" You shake your head.

"Well, let's just say they do a great job of warming your bones. Sounds pretty good right now doesn't it?" He gives a sharp laugh, like a bark, and then glances back at the bed of the wagon.

"Hey, we should be there in just a little bit, so when we get there, I'll go in and work things out with Daisy. She's the manager, and considering our cargo, I need to give her a heads up and arrange for our stay. If you take care of the horses and lock down the wagon. And remember, we are hauling some mining equipment. No need to go into details, just stick to the story, okay? Everything else is fine, we picked it up from the Colton railway line and are putting on the Columbia river when we get into the Oregon territory. But let's keep the 'what' and 'when' a little discrete. No need to attract any attention to ourselves, got it?" You notice, with some relief, that the words match his lips, no more disorienting translation issues.

You nod and pull the coat in close around you. This may be a time travel jump or a hallucination or something but it definitely is bones cold. At least Italy and the Caribbean were warm. Your traveling companion skillfully urges the horses, six full draft horses, through the slush as you approach a single, cedar slabbed building nestled in a nook overlooking a snowy valley. Smoke rises from the chimney and a warm, fiery glow lights the windows of the three story building.

Your partner nudges the horses to the stables adjacent to the building and hops down from the seat, grabbing a leather satchel stowed behind the wagon bench.

"Let me get us all paid up. You good?" You give a curt nod and clamber down onto the snow, sinking up to your knees. Patting the horses gently, you let your fingers to the work, skillfully untying each horse and leading them to a stall with hay and oats, covering them with a warm horse blanket and tying them with a simple double hitch.

Dance steps, ship layouts and horse husbandry, that's an odd collection of skills but you will take it. As you move about, you can feel the cold metal of a gun in its holster slapping against your thigh. You briefly consider leaving it in the wagon but considering the outcome of the last jump, best to at least keep it with you. Returning to the wagon, with no one around, you pull back the canvas cover separating the drivers area and the bed of the wagon.

Inside are rows and rows of metal ingots, covered with a blanket. As you touch one of them, you can hear the all too-familiar hum. So this is where that meteorite ended up, melted down and reforged into metal ingots, ready for use. The pieces are beginning to come together.

You secure the canvas cover and then the wood cabinet door separating the cargo from the drivers seat. Giving it once over, you lock the last couple of latches and then head inside the Silver Corner Saloon

Stomping the snow from your boots on the porch, you push open the wood door. It opens onto an expansive two story room, with a full fireplace, surrounded by couches, chairs and chaise lounges. On other side of the room, an expansive bar with wooden stools where your traveling companion is in deep conversation with a stout middle-aged woman. In the middle of the room, there are several round tables with wooden chairs where a couple scruffy men with bristly mustaches played cards. Up against the far wall, a young boy, about 13, plunked away at a honky tonk piano next to a spiral staircase up to the second floor balcony.

Leaning on the balcony railing, watching you enter, are two women. One, a buxom blonde, wore a red lace bodice that showed off her impressive chest complimented by a black ruffle skirt that barely reached her knees. The other was working a silk cloth between her hands absentmindedly. She wore a blue lace bodice, with a long halfskirt that showcased her slender legs and her red curls fell in curvy ringlets around her soft expressive face, Simone. You give her a warm smile and a bit of a wave. She gives you a flirty look and waves back.

Your traveling companion waves you over to the bar. "Sally!" he hollers. "Come meet Heather Bronstetter." You shuffle your way through the furniture, past the card players, to the bar.

"Heather, is our host for this evening. She operates a damn fine establishment, if I do say so myself." She punches him in the shoulder.

"That's just 'cause you like the liquor and the ladies too much, Charlie." Ah, yes, your companion has a name now. Charlie claps a hand to his chest,

"You wound me. The only lady I desire to see is you, my lovely dear." She purses her lips, "You'll be right up those stairs after two drinks, mark my words." She gives you an aside glance,

"I hope this course talk isn't affronting your delicate sensibilities." You open your mouth to speak but Charlie jumps in.

"Sally, hell no! She's been my right hand for the last two trips. I hope she takes over this route in a few years when I'm ready to retire." You nod.

Heather gives you a warm smile. "Well, Charlie here has paid up your nights stay so enjoy a hot meal, some drinks and entertainment from either floor. When you are ready to call it a night, your room is #3." She hands you a key, thankfully no heart shaped iron this time, and turns to fill a beer for Charlie.