by Ward, Vivian
They’re going to pop!
Holding me there, breathing on my neck, he slowly turns me to face him, only letting go of my wrists for mere seconds as he positions me how he wants me.
“Unzip my pants,” he growls, his voice low and husky.
“Wh—what?” I ask, terrified that he’s going to make me do something that I don’t want to. Now I’ll have no choice as to whether or not I want to trade sexual favors, he’s going to force it on me.
Henry would die if he knew.
“Unzip my pants. Now.” His ragged breathing kicks up a notch, his nostrils flaring.
Shocked by his command, I blindly obey him. The things he could do to me—and my baby—scare the living hell out of me. Reaching down, I close my eyes and coyly begin to unzip his trousers.
“Uh-uh,” his voice booms. “Open your eyes! I want to see those pretty little gems while you stroke my cock.”
My stomach turns with nausea at his words. I open my eyes but try to avert his gaze. Nothing works to hold back the tears as my throat chokes up. Tilting my chin, he forces me to look at him.
“Eyes up here,” his voice is stern. His thumb softly traces along my jawline before wiping away a single tear. “It’s not so bad,” he says, as I begin stroking his cock.
Dry heaving, my hand slowly moves up and down the length of his hardened cock—which is enormous! I’ve never seen one that big. It’s intimidating and embarrassing. My fingers won’t even meet each other as they wrap around his girth.
But I’ve only ever seen Henry’s.
As soon as the thought enters my head, my cheeks instantly heat up. It’s degrading and humiliating to stand before this drunken Marine, stroking his cock in hopes that he’ll let me go back to my little girl.
Since when did I become so bloody pitiful?
His eyes momentarily flutter closed, rolling to the back of his head. The thought of him enjoying this makes my stomach roll with nausea. How can he enjoy something so sick? What kind of man gets off on forcing women to do things?
Suddenly, his deep blue eyes pop open and stare into mine as a horrifying grin spreads across his face. Using his leg, he pushes my knees apart. Losing my balance, I almost fall because my legs feel so wobbly but his strong hands grab hold of me and keep me upright.
“This is more for my pleasure than yours,” he says, his hand reaching between my legs.
Cupping my sex, his hand is rough and hard against the thin material of my panties. Heat rushes between my legs as his strong fingers rub along my slit. I feel like I might collapse right then and there, but he’s still holding me up, pinning me against the wall.
Unable to control my body, wetness begins to pool there. It’s been forever since I’ve had any kind of stimulation and my body betrays me. No matter how much I hate him, I can’t help myself from enjoying his touch. Embarrassed by my body’s betrayal, my eyes quickly drop to the floor to avoid eye contact.
“Up here,” he says, forcing me to look at him, his voice still low and husky. Breathless. Commanding. “I’m enjoying feeling you and I have no intention of stopping until I’m done.”
His fingers dig harder against my sex until they find my button. It takes everything I have to stop my legs from spreading but my reaction to him is so strong and my body won’t cooperate with my mind.
I hate that I feel this powerless. I hate myself for feeling like this as he manipulates me.
Harder and harder, he strokes my clitoris and I can feel my panties getting wetter by the minute. His evil grin spreads wider as my hand moves in the same motion as his fingers—harder and faster. He knows I’m enjoying this.
Bloody hell!
“I said this was for my pleasure,” he says, his voice becoming raspy as my hand quickly strokes the length of his cock. “But I’m not going to lie, it turns me on to see you getting some pleasure out of this, too.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, still stroking his cock.
Faster. His fingers move faster. My head tilts back as my mouth falls open and I begin coming. A slight moan escapes my lips and the only thought running through my mind is that I wish I were being penetrated.
Stimulating my clitoris, he continues to manipulate my body until my shoulders begin shaking and my body starts spasming. I know he can feel my button throbbing through my panties as he continues touching me.
“But your body doesn’t lie, Victoria,” he sounds sinister. My eyes cut up to his as his cock begins to swell in my hand. Something comes over me and I stroke him harder. Faster. I even spit on his cock to lubricate it.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he moans.
Come surges out of his tip, landing on the floor between us and he doesn’t stop until there’s a puddle of white, sticky come.
Yes, this was definitely for his pleasure. He likes the fact that he’s gotten me off. And I hate it.
Maybe that was the point. He wants me to hate myself.
I just can’t understand why my body would react that way. My mind kept saying, Don’t enjoy it! Don’t enjoy it! Stop that! But there was no stopping.
I want to run away, run out of this room. I never want to see him again. My self-esteem slipped out of his tiny port window as I came all over his hand.
Zipping up his trousers, he adjusts his shirt before pulling down my dress to cover my body. “Keep your mouth shut and follow me,” he says.
Baffled, my feet shuffle behind him, completely numb as I try to wrap my mind around what just happened. He leads me out onto the deck, checking every direction before we traipse into the night, hoping not to get caught as he sneaks me back down to the hulks.
“Oh, my sweet baby,” I take Lizzy from Charlotte’s arms. I heard Lizzy crying the instant he opened the door to the hulk and ran to her tear-streaked face. “Shhh, shhh, shhh,” I coo to her. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now. Everything’s all right.”
She settles down a bit but not all the way, still shaken from my absence. “Was she like this whole time I was gone?” I ask Charlotte, terrified of her answer.
A long sigh passes through her thin, dry lips. It’s hotter than hell down here and she’s drenched in sweat from holding Lizzy in this heat. It’s a shame they couldn’t be up on deck with me, even if I was locked in that stupid room.
“She’s been like this for a wee bit. Off and on, but when it started getting later in the day, I couldn’t do anything to calm her.”
My eyes scan around the room and they’re met with narrowed, hateful gazes. I quickly take out my breast and offer it to her, hoping that will finally get her to quiet down.
“She must be starving,” I say to Charlotte. “I’m so sorry that you had to take care of her.” I bite my tongue about what happened up there but the fact that she’s not asking isn’t lost on me either. My guess is she has a pretty good idea.
“She shouldn’t be too hungry,” Charlotte says, hiking up her dress as she lies on the bench beside us and begins to fan herself with her hand.
Shocked at her response, my mouth opens and closes. “How do you figure?”
“Because I fed her,” she turns on her side to face us.
“What? How’d you do that? You don’t have any milk....do you?” I ask in a hushed tone as Lizzy begins to settle down.
“No,” she laughs. “I fed her some soup when they brought it down to us.”
“You did?” I ask, sad that she had to eat it. The soup—if that’s what you want to call it—tastes like sock sweat. Sad that I missed her eating her first food besides milk, I wonder why hadn’t I thought to feed her that? It’d help fill her belly when my milk is low.
“What else was I supposed to do? You were gone for so long and I knew she had to be getting hungry. If it weren’t for me feeding her my ration, she would’ve been a handful.”
My heart drops when she says that she fed Lizzy her dinner instead of eating it for herself and that she’d put the needs of my daughter’s above her own.
“I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologize
. “I’ll give you my meal in the morning.”
She waves her hand in the air to dismiss the notion. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I missed much anyway.” No sooner than she says that, I hear her stomach growl.
I inhale a sharp, pained breath as I think about how selfless she acted towards my daughter. It’s the only kind thing anyone has done for me since I became incarcerated. Staring down at my feet, I pretend not to hear her stomach grumbling.
It doesn’t take long for Charlotte to fall fast asleep, leaving me with just my thoughts for company as Lizzy sleepily suckles from my breast.
Despite not eating today, my stomach feels heavy as I recall my last moments in Kent’s room. My body should’ve never responded to his touch like that. The thought of it makes me hate myself even more.
If I thought I’d ruined my family before, what have I done now? I desecrated my marriage vows! No good wife or mother would do that!
And what do the other convicts think of me? Surely, by the daggers their eyes were shooting at me, they were beyond annoyed with my baby crying while I was away. And it doesn’t help that I’m friends with Charlotte—who they all hate. They had to know where I was, and God only knows what they thought I was doing.
Knowing the vicious rumors they like to spread like wildfire, they probably think I was up there having sex, enjoying it. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
Now I’m going to have to watch over my shoulder even more. I see how they treat Charlotte, and I don’t want to be treated like that. They ignore her, talk behind her back, and, I think, would probably harm her if given the chance. Nobody likes a whore.
A whore.
Is that what I am now?
I should’ve stood up to him. I should’ve yelled, screamed, pounded on the walls—anything but submit to him. I should’ve killed him. He was drunk—not fall-down drunk, but inebriated enough—and I could’ve tried harder, gave it a second go.
Being taken to his room was worse than when I was first jailed—at Exeter or on the ship. It brought back all those painful memories of having my rights and freedom stripped from me. He did that and then some. It wasn’t just my rights and freedom. It was my dignity that was taken away, my marriage vows that were tarnished, and my pride that was smashed to pieces.
Slouching deeper onto the bench, I try to blink away the wetness from my eyes. My breath hitches in my throat as I try not to cry and rip my hair out. It’s probably a good thing that Lizzy is in my arms right now, or I would do it.
One thing is for sure, and that’s that I will do whatever it takes to keep this shameful secret from everyone. I can’t let anyone know what happened, not even Charlotte. She might have taken good care of Lizzy but do I trust her? What would she think of me? While she might sleep with Officer Addington, she’s not married and doesn’t have a baby. I can’t lose the only friend I have.
* * *
Three mornings go by before I hear my name called from the tiny doorway that leads to the hulks from the upper deck. Terrified, I turn to Charlotte.
“What do I do?”
“Go on,” she says, holding out her arms. “I’ve got Lizzy. Go see what they want?”
That’s what scares me the most! I don’t know what they want. What if Officer Kent wants another handjob? Or worse? Thick bile rises in my throat as my stomach begins to churn.
“Victoria Easton!” I hear my name again, this time more stern than the last time it was called.
I jump, fearful of what might happen to me if I don’t get up those stairs. Securing my stepping on the slippery wood that’s covered in urine and feces, I carefully climb to the upper deck where fresh air fills my lungs, making me choke. My eyes are blinded by the sunlight all over again and I can’t see who it is because bright spots fill my vision.
Once my vision adjusts to the light, I’m surprised and relieved to see that it’s NOT Officer Kent. My tense shoulders instantly drop as I exhale a breath of fresh air. Instead, it’s Digby, the man who rowed Lizzy and me to the ship from shore. He was polite and friendly enough, but I have no idea why he’s calling me up here.
“G’ day,” I say to him.
“Morning,” he’s a little too chipper for my liking but he’s not locked away in a darkened waste bucket, starving like the rest of us. I haven’t eaten much because the food is so awful—not that there have been many rations, anyway. They barely feed us enough for everyone to get a bowl of soup. Some of the women even fight over it while others are too weak to get up and get their own. A lot of them are quite malnourished and they’re the ones that need it most, but by the time the healthier, stronger ones rush to the pot, it’s all gone in a matter of minutes. Those poor women continue growing weaker by the day.
Yesterday morning, one woman died. We’re not sure if it was from starvation or if she had an illness because she didn’t talk to anyone and all she did was lie on the bench, huddled in a ball during her entire time on the ship.
“Why am I up here?” I cut to the chase, too tired, hot and dirty to care about pleasantries.
His smile quickly fades. “Washing needs to be done,” he points to a clothesline where some marine uniforms are hanging to dry.
My eyes light up at the thought of being outside in the sunlight and fresh air. There are mounds of dirty uniforms lying around, waiting to be washed. “Can I bring my baby up with me? She won’t be a bother,” I quickly add.
“Let me get it cleared first. Wait here,” he says. “Don’t move.”
Right. Where would I run to? Jump off the boat and leave my daughter behind?
He returns a few moments later. “You can get her but if there are any problems, you’ll both have to go back down to the hulks,” he tries to make his voice stern but I pay him no attention.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, quickly making my way down to get Lizzy.
Charlotte is surprised when I return to take Lizzy from her arms. “They want me to do the washing up on deck and they said I can bring the baby!” I squeal.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling from ear to ear. “I can’t wait to give her some fresh air and sunshine!”
Scurrying back the stairs with Lizzy in my arms, I make my way over to the piles of dirty clothes and fashion a make-shift baby wrap to keep her close to me while I work.
The sun is beating down on us and I worry that she might get sunburned, but I do my best to keep us in the shade with the clothes that are already hanging on the line.
“Enjoying the afternoon?” A familiar voice says from behind. My back tenses up because I know who it is. I pretend not to hear Kent speaking to me, but his presence continues to grow on me until he’s blocking out all of the sunlight, towering over us.
“Giving me the silent treatment, aye?” He leans down so nobody else can hear him. “That’s all right but one thing that I want you to keep in mind is that I’m the reason the two of you are up here.”
Moving further down the line, I hang another pair of trousers, continuing with my silence.
He’s not my friend. No matter what he says, he’s not my friend.
Still keeping his voice low, he says, “I can make your life on this ship a lot easier—or I can make it bloody fucking hard. The choice is yours.”
“Piss off,” I hiss under my breath, not wanting to draw attention to either of us. “If you want to fix my problems, find my husband. Or how about getting more food down to us prisoners? People are starving to death down there.”
“Are you hungry, Victoria?” His voice softens a bit, ignoring the comment about my husband. “I can sneak you some bread and crackers.” I don’t answer him. I refuse to let him know that I’m starving, too. “Can she eat regular foods yet?” His attention turns to Lizzy who’s in awe of him. He’s a complete brute and she’s never seen anyone as big as him.
So, he does seem to have a conscience. He also, apparently, seems to have a soft spot for little ones—unless, it’s all an act.
He could be saying and doing these things so that I don’t report him for what he’s done.
But who would I report him to? What would I say? That he made me give him a handjob? Like they’d believe a convict. All he’d have to do is deny every word of it and I’d be the one in trouble for making things up.
No matter why he’s acting like this, I can’t let my baby go hungry. “She ate some soup the night that I was with you. I’m not sure what else she can have.” His eyebrows contort with confusion. “This is my first baby so I’m learning as I go,” I explain.
Extending his big, strong hands, he offers Lizzy one of his fingers to hold onto. She beams up at him with a wide, toothless grin, cooing the whole time.
“She doesn’t have any teeth yet but if she can have soup, I’d imagine she can have other things. Let me see if I can find some soft cheese for her.” Shocked that he knows so much about babies, I don’t respond as he turns on his heel. “I’ll be back,” his voice is loud and firm.
There are other officers on deck, watching some of the other prisoners who are working. I guess they were taking note that the two of us were talking so he tries to make it appear as though he’s reprimanding me.
Going back to my work, I continue with the laundry until he returns just as I’m almost finished. A few solids rows of clothing hide us from the others.
“Here are some crackers for you and a bit of cheese for her,” he passes them to me. I quickly tuck them inside the wrap that’s tied around my torso that contains Lizzy. “Don’t let the others see you eating this. They’ll ask questions.”
“I’m not a fool,” I retort. “Thank you.”
“Let me know how she does with that. If it’s too much for her, I’ll try to figure something else out.”
I nod, wondering why he’s suddenly being so kind to us. How can he just switch like that? What other weaknesses does he have besides babies? There are more questions than answers but seeing his soft side makes me wonder what else I don’t know about him. How far would he be willing to go to help me?
