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It’s a start, though. I lift my chin. “I’ll happily do so.” It’s a lie, of course, but he doesn’t need to know that I’m less eager than I pretended. I’m excellent at pretending. “If I’m to service my new husband, however, I need for you to ask for it aloud. It would make things very odd between us if I started gobbling your cock and all you wanted was for me to pass the salt.”
It’s a tease, a joke. It’s meant to make him laugh, to open up, to respond. Even if all he does is drop his loincloth, I know what to expect. This is me figuring out what my new master wants from me so I can anticipate his needs. If I make him happy, life will be easier. Ru
This sea-ogre is the trouble I know, so I’m going to stick this out.
I almost expect him to continue to stare at me in stony silence, as if there’s some secret to making him respond that I’m unaware of. But he finally speaks. “Two-finger tease, eh?”
So he’s thinking about that, is he? “Indeed. Popular with all the sea-ogres back home.”
“Sounds like you’re more experienced than I am. Very well.” With his gaze locked on me, he unbuckles his belt and unwraps his loincloth, dropping it to the ground.
Not one but two cocks unfurl from the depths of his loincloth.
Two.
Two very large, very un-hard cocks.
“Oh.” For once, quick and easy words escape me. I stare, my jaw hanging open. I’d expected him to be large. I hadn’t expected two. And of course it seems reasonable that he might have two, what with the fact that he has two sets of arms. All right. I can handle this. I can.
Before I can say anything else, though, he snorts at my stu
I’ve been completely caught in a lie.
Here the sea-ogre took me for a bride because I promised all kinds of naughty pleasures, and he’s realizing now that I have zero experience with his kind. My shock at his doubled anatomy made that plainly obvious.
I’m an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t be called out, and now I have to fix this. He’s storming away from me, and I need to do something.
“Fine!” I call out, chasing after him. “You caught me. I lied about the two-finger thing. I just had to get off the ship and your appearance seemed like a good opportunity. I’m sorry if I’m not as skilled as you expected me to be. That ship was going to end up at the bottom of the sea. If it ever made it to the city of Sunswallow, I’d end up sold off to a brothel. I figured one master would be better than a hundred.”
He remains silent, so I race in front of him and drop to my knees, clinging dramatically to his leg. “I’m ready for my punishment, my husband.”
That gets his attention. He stops walking. “Punishment?”
I nod, pressing my cheek to his warm, damp leg. I don’t have to feign panic. I’m desperate—I need him to like me. “You can whip me. I’m told I heal fast.”
“Because you’ve been whipped before?” he asks, voice icy.
I nod again. I’m not the most obedient of creatures. I tend to run my mouth—some would call it lying—to try and grease the works. Sometimes I get caught.
The sea-ogre huffs, the sound one of irritation. He pries me off of his leg and continues to stalk away. As I sit on the ground, trembling in fear, he moves to the edge of the turtle and dives into the water.
Gone again.