The Story of a Lifetime Ch. 04

Granny shook her head. "A satyr?"

"Well," I hedged, weighing the benefits of being bashful. I figured there was no use trying to backtrack on that, so I just nodded.

She shook her head again. "My word."

"He was very pretty, in both speech and body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh, I know well the allure of the fair folk," she said with a wistful sigh. Before I could unpack that statement, she gave me a much sterner look. "Do you still have it?"

"Have what?"

"The shawl," she said, her voice patient yet insistent.

I nodded, and went to my backpack, fishing around until I pulled the fine garment out. "It doesn't fit me right now," I said, gesturing at my very round belly, "but it's truly the nicest piece of clothing I've ever owned."

She extended a hand for the cloth, and I handed it to her. She rolled fabric between her fingers for a moment, and shook her head. "You told me you had nothing of any worth to give, and yet you carry a shawl woven by a nymph of the Old Woods?"

I stopped short, shocked. It hadn't even occurred to me to offer this memento as payment.

She shook her head wistfully, and handed it back. "You've promised me the story of a lifetime as payment, and I accepted. I suppose it's only fair that you hold on to this." I took the cloth back as she bent over her notebook again, suddenly all business as she added a few new lines. "If your menstrual cycles range between two and four months in length, we'll assume approximately three months for your average. How long was it between the end of your last period and your first encounter with the orcs?"

I closed my eyes, trying to wade back through the many months. "It was a bit more than a month after my period ended that I had sex with my human boyfriend, I think. Maybe five weeks? Then my first... 'encounter' with Davor was about two days after that. And then again the night after, then the next morning."

She nodded, adding a few more notes to her book. "Your 'sweet spot', in terms of conception, would be before the halfway mark between menstruations. That could be week four to five if we assume a two-month cycle for that period, or as late as week eight or nine if we assume a four-month cycle. So, if we look at the average, we'll assume the actual conception took place between the start of week five and the end of week eight."

She took a moment to consult her notes, then nodded again. "It's possible, though unlikely, that your human mate is the father since he falls just within that range. Your orc companions would be in the early portion of that range. Your time with the satyr would be right in the middle of where we might assume you were most fertile. Satyrs are well known for their fecundity, so it's likely that he was the father." With that she snapped her notebook closed. "A half-fey, most likely to be born as a pure satyr. I believe we have our answer."

I nodded, having come to that conclusion once before. "Unfortunately," I added hesitantly, "If we assume that my prime fertile period could have been as late as week eight, we haven't ruled out the... other lovers."

She froze, halfway to taking a bite out of a cracker covered in a slice of cheese. "Other lovers," she asked, a mixture of horror and admiration on her face. "How many more were there? Why on earth would you have sex, unprotected sex at that, with five different men and a nymph, and then consider doing so again?"

I paused, mulling over my answer. "Well, there was some wine."

She chuckled ruefully and dropped her cracker back onto the simple wooden plate. "That seems to be your undoing. So, if not the satyr, who else could be the lucky man?"

I fidgeted again before finally answering. "Well, after leaving the satyr's side, I boarded a ship..."

********

I'd only been in this town two days, and I was already absolutely sick of it. Newport, the city of a thousand ships, smelled more like the city of a thousand dead fish. The inns were a shade too expensive for my budget, which was dwindling daily, unless I wanted to risk sleeping in the shoddiest of sailor's pubs.

I had checked the schedules of a dozen ships. Few of them were going anywhere worth being, and those that were charged an arm and a leg for passage. I felt trapped in this sodden harbor town, like everyone else who had the misfortune of living here.

Stepping into a patch of sunlight, I stopped and stretched for a moment. There were still good things to focus on, like the sunlight itself, which seemed to be a rarity in this rainy town. There were still more ships to check before hope was lost. If all else failed, I could always walk back to Pux or Davor and stay with them.

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts, and marched through the front doors of the Seaport Porters & Co, the next shipping company on my list.

A dour looking secretary stared up at me over the stacks of paper on her desk, forehead crinkled in a frown. "Yes?"

I was genuinely impressed that even the greeters here were grumpy. "I'm looking for captain..." I looked down at the folded sheet in my hand, scanning for his name, "Rockbeard?"

She frowned, like this was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard, then sighed. "He's here. Upstairs, second floor on the left." She had stopped paying attention to me even before she'd finished speaking, and ignored me as I meandered towards the stairs.

The second door was indeed open, giving me a view of a small office with a small man behind a desk. Small was maybe an unfair word, perhaps stout was more accurate. His shoulders were almost as wide as he was tall, and his beard reached down to his gut. He was dense looking, even for a dwarf.

I knocked on the door frame, and he studiously ignored me as he wrote in as ledger. Finally, after a minute or so, he set down his quill and looked up at me. "Well?"

As he spoke, his beard quivered slightly, making the small stones woven into it click together. This would probably be Rockbeard.

"I've heard your ship is sailing across the Emerald Sea," I ventured.

"And?"

He looked impassive and bored, and it made me surprisingly nervous. "Uh... that's my intended path."

"You own a ship?" he grunted, and I shook my head. "Hope you're a real good swimmer, then." With that, he picked up his quill, evidently done with the conversation.

I took a moment to center myself and gather my courage, then spoke again. "I was hoping to buy passage aboard your ship."

"We're not a passenger ship, we're a cargo ship."

That sounded like a no, but he was still talking, which meant this wasn't over yet. "Yes, I know. I was hoping that if I paid a fare and offered to work on the ship, perhaps in the kitchen, you might be willing to take me on."

He looked up again, frowning. "Galley."

"Pardon?"

"On a ship, there's no kitchen. There's a galley."

"In the galley, then," I said with a shrug. "I'm no chef, but I can chop vegetables and cook a stew about as well as anyone."

"How much?"

"How much what?" I asked, desperately tired of talking so this surly man.

"The fare you're offering to pay," he explained, as if talking to a child. "How much ya got?"

I pulled the small coin purse from my hip, and emptied its contents into my hand. "One gold piece and... twenty-one silver."

He looked at me for a moment, utterly silent, then barked laughter. "You want to book passage aboard my ship for the better part of ten days, and you're offering a handful of silver?"

I frowned, and shifted the coins around slightly. "I've also got a handful of copper, but I'll need some of that for an inn stay tonight."

"Tell ya what," he said, still chuckling. "You take that twenty silver and make it twenty gold, and then we can start negotiating up from there."

I thought about the two gold coins I had tucked in my sock in case of emergencies, but knew it wouldn't make much of a difference. "How much do you normally pay for kitchen... ah, galley hands?"

"A silver a day if they're inexperienced, as much as two if they know what they're doing."

"I do know what I'm doing," I told him, sounding more confident than I felt. "So, I'm worth two silver per day, times as much as ten days. That's twenty silver that you're saving by hiring me on instead of someone you'd need to pay, plus you can have the coins." As I spoke the last, I poured the handful of coins onto his low desk. It would have been a much more impressive display if there had been more coins, but it was the best I could manage.

He drummed his fingers on his desk, frowning at the coins in thought. "One gold and forty silver is a lot less than I'd ever charge for ship passage."

He still hadn't said no, so I still had a chance. "I might be able to add a couple more gold coins."

"Still not nearly enough."

"Well," I said, a grin spreading across my face, "I think I might be able to make it worth your while."

His eyes traveled from the coins and back to me, sweeping up my body from my legs to my chest and stopping there. "Oh?"

I blushed slightly at the frankness of it, and leaned over the desk towards him, showing a bit more of my cleavage. "I can think of a few things I might have to offer that could make the decision a little easier for you."

He stared straight ahead, plainly ogling my breasts. "You do seem to be very persuasive. I like a girl who isn't afraid to take a direct hand in negotiating."

"I'm not a whore," I told him. "I'm just looking to add a little quid-pro-quo."

"No, no, of course you're not," he said, his gravelly voice going softer. "You're a passenger aboard my ship, and an employee of the galley. This is just a way of... sealing the deal. Like shaking hands at the end of a negotiation."

I stared into his lecherous face, and knew I wasn't in much of a position for negotiating, and this was definitely better than spending another week or two trying to find a ship out of this muddy port. "Exactly."

"Close that door and come on over here."

I did so, walking around slowly to his side of the desk. He stared up at me, wearing a shit-eating grin, then shifted his eyes meaningfully between his crotch and me. I took the unsubtle hint, and dropped down to my knees in front of his chair.

He leaned back, grinning, and I undid his belt buckle.

I tugged down his breeches enough for his cock to slip out from under them, and was glad to see it wasn't a monster. Just a normal-sized, semi-flaccid member protruding from an untamed bush.

I put my hand around it, gently tugging it as it came to life. It hardened with my ministrations, until it was standing proudly away from his body. It was similarly proportioned to my ex's, maybe a little shorter and wider, but it seemed large compared to Rockbeard's smaller body.

"Go on, girl," he told me, "You can do better than that."

I sighed, and moved my face towards his crotch. I took a moment to roll back the foreskin from the tip of his cock, and he chuckled as I put my mouth over it.

Slowly moving my head down, I took the top half of him into my mouth as I slowly stroked the base of him.

"That's it, elf," he said, staring down and watching me as I bobbed on his cock.

Ever since I'd first tumbled into sex, at a younger age than I probably should have, I've enjoyed being able to give someone pleasure. This wasn't exactly an ideal situation, but I figured I may as well get into it and get it over quicker.

I relaxed my throat and dropped my head down, taking his full length into my mouth and resting there a second. He groaned in appreciation at my deepthroating skills. "Yeah, girlie," he chuckled, "choke on that meat."

I wasn't even close to choking on this. After blowing an orc, a dwarf was no real challenge. Still, I complied as best I could, focusing on taking him fully into me between breaths.

I heard the door open with a creak, and froze with his dick halfway in my mouth. "Captain Rockbeard," I heard a woman's voice say.

"Aye?"

"I have the manifest you asked for. I'll just need your signature here. Is now a good time?"

"Of course," he answered, voice sounding genial. "I didn't say to stop."

After a moment, I realized the last part was directed towards me. His cock was an inch from my mouth, glistening with my saliva. I looked past him, to the secretary, who was leaning against the desk as she slid the papers towards Rockbeard.

I blushed harder, the heat creeping from my cheeks to my long ears. Dutifully, I moved my face back over his crotch, and tried to imagine that the watching secretary was Mazon or Ausk watching me have sex with Davor.

As I slid him back into my mouth, I heard the distinct sound of a quill dipping in ink, then scraping on paper as Rockbeard signed off on the document. "And down here," the secretary told him, flipping a page. The quill scritched again, followed by the sound of papers shuffling. "Is there anything else you need from me today, captain?"

"No, you can head home early today, lass," Rockbeard grunted at the secretary, who politely excused herself and left. "As for you... what was your name again?"

I pulled my head back, sliding his cock out with a popping noise. "I'm Amaranthea."

"Amaranthea," he said, mispronouncing the last syllable.

"You can call me Amy."

"Amy," he said with a smile. "Get on the desk."

I had hoped he'd settle for a blowjob, but inside I'd known his was coming. I stood up slightly and sat down on the edge of his short desk.

"Why don't you lose those pants?" he was grinning again, looking entirely pleased as he stood there with his cock pointing at me and his mat of pubes wet with my saliva.

I slid my pants and underwear down, leaving them draped on one of my legs. He took a moment to admire the view of my freshly-shaved pussy before stepping between my legs. His erection was hanging over my pelvis, and I wondered if he was a particularly considerate lover.

He answered my unspoken question by spitting onto his hand, spreading the saliva into my pussy. And who says romance is dead?

A moment later, he was pressing his erection against my entrance, and I relaxed my muscles as much as I could to make things easier. His tip pressed against me for a moment, then pushed past my folds. I inhaled slightly as I stretched around him, but it was easy compared to Pux or any of the orcs I'd slept with.

"Not used to such a big piece of meat are you, lass?" he asked, his voice deep and full of laughter. "You like that?"

I was sure he didn't want to hear that he was smaller than any of my last four lovers, so I simply answered "Yes, Rockbeard."

He paused, halfway in me, and stared down at me. "That's captain Rockbeard to you," he grunted, then shoved the rest of the way into me. "You got that?"

I winced at the sudden intrusion, but nodded. "Yes, captain."

His rough hands settled on my hips, pulling me towards him as he thrust forward again. "That's right," he told me, pulling back and pushing forward again. "I am your captain."

He quickly settled into a moderate rhythm, fucking me with a consistent speed and force. It was nicer than being with my old human ex-boyfriend, who basically just flailed around inconsistently at whatever speed, but still I found myself becoming... bored. Rockbeard had a rhythm, and he just kept at it, fucking me methodically.

Methodical was the exact right word for it, as he maintained an exact pace, over and over again.

He wasn't an awful lover, and aside from the first moments he wasn't rough. But I knew, sure as the sun rises in the East, that he could go like this all day and I'd never cum. But it didn't really seem like he cared much about my pleasure either way.

"Oh yeah, captain," I encouraged him, trying to help him along.

I'm not sure how much time went by, but I was starting to get sore when he finally started picking up the pace and grunting.

"Yes, fuck," he groaned as he thrusted faster.

"Oh, captain," I cooed at him, genuinely relieved that he was ready to be done. I hadn't expected this to take a full hour, but here we were.

He pulled back, sliding out of me with a slight popping noise, and grabbed hold of his cock. He gave it a few more tugs, then his orgasm erupted. A pulse of cum shot out, splattering against my waist as he jerked off. He groaned loudly, and more cum splattered against my pelvis. He groaned one more time and gave another few tugs, coaxing one more dribble of semen to drop down onto me. Then he stepped back, wiping the tip of his cock against my thigh as part of the same motion.

I sat up, surprised at how suddenly he'd finished and disengaged. He was already pulling his pants back up, and re-affixing his belt buckle.

He pulled a kerchief from a side table and handed it to me. I took it wordlessly, and started wiping up the cum. It was sticky, far stickier than a human's or even an orc's. It was like wiping up tar.

I finished, then pulled my own pants back on and stood. He was already rearranging the desk, fixing the mess we'd made. He looked down at the sticky, crumpled cloth he'd handed me. "You go ahead and keep that."

"Right," I said, feeling awkward.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, evidently content to get back to work.

"Uhh..." my mind reeled. I'd never had sex that was quite so impersonal before. "When do we leave? Tomorrow, right?"

He nodded, picking up the pile of coins I left. "An hour after first light. If you're late, we'll leave without you."

I nodded, stepping towards the door. "Aye aye, captain."

He chuckled slightly, but didn't look up as I left.

I stepped back outside, and breathed in some fresh air... well, as fresh as the air ever got in Newport. Then, I turned back towards the inn where I was staying, in need of a stiff drink.

I ate and drank sparingly, trying not to use up the very last of my coins, and settled in to sleep early.

The next day I rose shortly before the sun, and set about packing up all of my earthly possessions. Fortunately, everything I owned fit neatly into one backpack, so I was out the door with food in hand by the time the sunrise was fading.

I went straight to the docks, cutting past all of the market streets to save time. I knew I had a bit of time before the ship was set to sail, but I couldn't help feel panicky as I hustled.

I skidded to a halt, quite literally, kicking up dirt and gravel as I spotted the dock I was looking for. At the far end was a large ship, triple-masted and standing proudly in the breeze: The Melancholy.

I stood at the bottom of the boarding plank thingy, staring up at the figure head, the front half of a leonin creature with the face and breasts of a human woman. It must have been meant to be a sphynx, although it seemed both out of place on the ocean and anatomically improbable in terms of chest-size.

A loud shout of "Clear the gangplank" came from behind me, startling me into motion. I spun and stepped back, clearing the path just in time for a pair of large men carrying a big crate to pass me by and bring their load on board.

"Get the fuck out of my way," a second voice hissed at me, and I spun again to find I'd nearly backed into a shirtless orc dragging a heavy-looking bag behind him.

I stepped off to the side, as out of the way as I could manage, and watched the three sailors bring their goods aboard.

I checked behind me to see if anyone else was coming up the dock, and sure enough another large crate was making its way down the line.

The man carrying the box set it down, and looked at me over top. "Don't take it too personally," he told me. "Captain's pissed that we're running a bit late this morning, so we're all a bit on edge."

I gaped at the man, trying to find an intelligible reply. He stood a full foot taller than me, before counting the horns. He was bare-chested like the other sailor, except for the fine fur covering his body, thicker on his head, chest, and legs. I'd never actually met a minotaur before, but that's absolutely what he was.