1792

Wednesday

It was turning out to be a damn waste of a Wednesday.

She could hear them downstairs – laughing – those arrogant bastards. She rocked on the balls of her feet, her cold toes curling and uncurling. A feather-filled comforter rested over her shoulders, but it did very little to fight the cold. She shook the chill from her body, her red hair falling in front of her face. The moonlight that streamed through the window shimmered in the ginger locks.

Brushing the crimson strands away, she looked longingly at the simple bed and wooden chair in the room. She wanted so badly to sit in either, but knew that the inevitable creaking would alert the tavern wenches below to her presence. She had worked too hard to sneak into this room to allow herself to be caught now.

She held her breath a moment as she heard a door open and close on the tavern’s first floor. She could hear muffled voices as someone went over to the office – a good sign; that was where the gentlemen’s boots were left for the night.

Moving carefully, she stood up to get prepped, adjusting her particulars within the tattered-yet-tight corset bound around her chest. The snug apparel was red, and quite dingy and torn by this point in its lifetime, but in the low candlelight it was hard to tell. Other than the slim piece of fabric from the corset that ran between her thighs and caressed her nether lips nothing covered her legs besides a few dingy ruffles.

Folding up the quilt and tossing it back on the bed, she picked up a much more threadbare sheet and draped it over her shoulders, folding it across her front and returning some modesty to her visage. The down comforter had done little to fight the cold, and this did even less. But it was for aesthetic and nothing more, so she did her best to keep from shivering.

It was harder to track the location of a bootless gentleman once the top of the steps was reached. She hoped this wasn’t another false alarm; the last few travelers had opted for the crowded common room where the less-moneyed men slept shoulder-to-shoulder, many standing up.

And even if he was moneyed enough to stay in one of the two private rooms, he had to pick the one she had hidden away in.

So many uncertainties; she could not afford another fruitless night.

She heard the bowing of floorboards and saw the light of a candle bleed through the crack between door and floor. There was some discussion going on in the hallway, she guessed the tavern wench had questioned the man regarding something. It didn’t last long, however, and the door opened, which sent the waiting redhead back into a corner eve to avoid detection. She did not want to risk a confrontation if the tavern wench inspected the room before letting in the guest.

However, the only one who entered was the gentleman traveler.

She forgot herself for a moment when she saw him. Never had a traveler been so striking. Square jaw, thick hair, tall but muscular, shaved, and most importantly – washed! She just stared a moment as he went to the bed, placing a small bag on the floor and setting the flickering candle by the bedside. For the first time she actually found herself somewhat attracted to one of these men – she could feel a warmth building between her legs that she had not known for some time. She stared as he began to remove some personal items, placing them in the nightstand drawer.

Remembering herself, she stepped forward.

“Good evening, fine sir,” she said, and he whipped around to face her. He was not startled, or in a stance to attack or run; he just stood straight. The only unusual thing in his stance was that one finger was outstretched. He said nothing, only stared. She swallowed and continued.

“I am here to help you,” she said, stepping slowly towards him, letting her bare legs and feet teasingly slip through the edges of her covering sheet, “I am sure the road has been harsh and rough, and I am here to give you what you need…or want.” She stopped near the end of the bed – the light of the candle was usually best here. The man’s stance did not change, except he did slowly lower his finger.

“So, dear traveler,” she continued, spouting the same line she had spun for every roadman she had met. “…is there anything you…” to punctuate her words she let the sheet slip off, “…desire of me?”

She placed one hand on a bedpost as the she felt the sheet glide off her shoulders and caress her as gravity undressed her. She arched her back and leaned forward a bit in a pose she felt best showed her pert and corset-bulged breasts.

There was a long pause as the two stood, the only sound the flicker of the candle. His eyes had scanned down her body quickly at first, following the motion of the sheet, but now he had returned to staring straight into the windows of her soul. His intensity was incredible, and caused the warmth below to intensify for her. But it was also somewhat unsettling, and just as she was wondering if she could make it to the door before he could stop her, he spoke.

“You look cold in those clothes,” he stated, bringing up one hand and offering it to her, “Let’s get you out of them.”

There was very little talking after that. Only the fearless sounds of a bed creaking.

She had never experienced a bedding quite like that one. Most of her targets were more interested in themselves, but this man actually attended to her. The moment his stiff manhood slid within her wet recess she almost cried out. His was unlike those frumpy lumps of meat she had been with before. His passion drover her wild as he moved himself within her. Their bodies had intertwined in new and exotic ways; limbs wrapped in knots, places touched that she had never considered sources of pleasure.

For the first time a man did more than just molest her breasts. His hands did fly over them, but they kept moving; running down her sides, over her ass, along her legs, and up again. Thumbs flicked the nipples capping her sensitive orbs, then moved on quickly as she felt him caressing her entire body, as her own body rode up and down his manliness. And then she felt another first approaching.

For the first time she had finished. She wanted to scream out in exuberance so badly, the entire experience having flooded her mind with so much pleasure, but a lingering memory of where she was kept her to a muffled moan of bliss.

His bliss followed shortly after.

Afterwards, as she lay next to the man and watched him sleep, she almost abandoned her plans. But doubt and fear overtook her and she quietly slipped from the sheets.

Retrieving her corset, her own bag, and dressing in a more modest set of rags she had stored within, she worked quickly. She grabbed his bag to take with her and rummage through later, but found it to be surprisingly heavy. Knowing she would be unable to leave with it convincingly concealed, she slid it away from the bed to rummage through without awakening him.

Pulling out far more clothing than she expected to find, eventually a small bag of gold nuggets and a fold of bank notes found their way into her hands, which she quickly placed in her bag. She’d be able to travel and relax for at least a week on that alone.

Standing up and going to the door, she stopped. She recalled during their undressing that the man had a peculiar pendant, which had been left in the drawer in the nightstand before he joined her in the sheets. Although she had more than enough loot to consider the night a success, the pendant was too good to pass up. Something about it called to her. She placed her bag on the floor and crept over to the table.

All night she had been thankful for the full moon’s light that cast in through the window, which up until now had allowed her to work through the traveler’s belongings without need of candlelight. But as she approached the table she found the space was cast in deeper shadows than the rest of the room, and had to feel for the pull knob on the drawer.

Drawing the wretched piece of wooden construct slowly from its recess, she was terrified that the creaking would awake him. She opened it just enough to get her hand inside, then felt for her quarry.

It only took a moment for her prodding finger tips to find the cold hard metal, and pulling it gently out she found she was able to admire its craftsmanship for a moment even in the dark corner of the room. It looked as if it had a hinge, and even the chain was ornate. The silver seemed to give off its own light.

The stir of the traveler reminded her of her actions, and after confirming he had not awakened she quietly backed away towards the door. Slipping the pendant into her cleavage for safekeeping she turned and retrieved her own bag, then grasped the handle.

As the door started to open she felt a sudden force push it shut, and a hand harshly spun her around and pinned her against the door jam by one shoulder. She had no idea how the traveler had so quickly and silently sprung from his bed, and she let out a small gasp. She dared not scream, however, as she knew involving more people would not be to her advantage.

“Well, I am disappointed,” frowned the traveler, looking down and straight into her eyes, “You have no idea the opportunities you have lost.”

“No, I…” she stammered, never having been caught quite like this before, “…I do desire to help, I only-”

“Wished to relieve me of the root of all evil, I’m sure,” replied the man, kicking her bag over and pulling out the pouch of gold with his toes.

She did not have a response.

“What should I do with you, eh?” he seemed to grin at some awful thought, clucking his tongue. “Aurimize you? No…fitting, but you would probably collapse the floor…perhaps I’ll make you into a tree, I haven’t done one of those for – sit still while I contemplate your fate!” he barked, both hands now slamming her against the door. His insane musings truly terrified her, and she had begun to more desperately squirm in his grip. His eyes burned with anger, and she immediately stopped moving. However, she felt something chill against her skin slip down under her dressings.

A soft ka-bunk-chh turned both their intentions towards the floor.

The pendant lay on the wood boards between her feet. The man raised his head and locked eyes with her, her own eyes following his in trepidation. He looked as if he suddenly had an idea.

“You said you were here to grant my desire, but in truth you were only interested in yourself,” he said, reaching down with one hand and retrieving the ornate metal, “…I think maybe it is best if I provide you the ability – and impetus – to really help others…to give them what they want…”

As he raised his hand back up he held the pendant, dangling from its chain, near her face. She was trembling, and seriously considering screaming now.

“The bad news is, I cannot allow you to keep this,” he said. She stared at it in horror, the infernal trinket the reason she was now in this situation. Her attention was drawn away from it as she noticed his hands were beginning to glow. He finished his sentence through a toothy, crooked grin.

“…the good news, I know how to allow this to keep you.”

One finger pointed at her.

The pendant opened.

The scream never left her throat.

The next part of Room 2739 continues tomorrow!