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The air was a whole lot cleaner on the deck of the ship, but Maya had very little in the way of sea-legs. Joseph leaned her against the railing, which was designed to prevent sailors from tumbling into the ocean below. The wind struggled to escape the canvas sails, but it only succeeded in extending its power through the shivering mast and pulling the vessel along the water's surface. The process fascinated Maya for a moment, but she was unsettled by the feelings it drew to the surface.

Maya's mind had survived the horrors of her past by burring old memories under layers of trauma. Sometimes she could catch glimpses in nightmares or during the drifting rush of ecstasy ... but they were only bits and pieces which rarely stayed. This time the memories were stronger. The creaking of the vessel's wood let her remember a cargo hold ... devoid of natural light ... the closeness of dark skinned bodies ... the reek of unwashed humanity. It flooded through her, driving her over the edge. The mess of her past caused her stomach to lurch and she wretched.

The violent convulsions caused the world to spin around her and she was suddenly sitting on the deck with her back to the wood. The memories faded back into the murk and she looked up at the man who had brought her here. Joseph had knelt in front of her and real concern shown in his eyes.

"You alright?" he asked. The words settled into Maya's mind, bitter anger, relief, rage, and lust all scuttled through her nerves and caused her to curl her legs into her chest while she trembled. Her breathing was ragged and the acidic taste of vomit filled her senses of scent and taste.

"We should get you somewhere else, tonight," Joseph said after a moment. "No sense in letting a pretty pence like you go and get all muddied up." Maya flinched when her captor helped her to her feet. She could not tell if he was joking when he spoke to her, but it did not matter just yet. The sway of the boards unsteadied her feet and Joseph had to help her hobble along. When they finally reached the door near the captain's quarters, Maya's guide opened it and led her inside.

This lesser room was separated from the captain's quarters by a simple wall, and it belonged to the man whom had captured her. Joseph helped Maya to the bed and then brought her a bucket of water and some brushes. As she looked at the bathing devices, she became painfully aware of how sweaty and itchy she had become.

"I'm a mess," Maya groaned, but her only captor chuckled.

"A bit," he admitted, drawing a glare from her. "Don't worry; you're not like the others. I'll take care of you."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh ... a bunch of reasons," Joseph smiled and then stepped towards the door. "I'm going to go back to the party and get your bags. You should clean yourself up while I'm gone." He then gave her a little bow and slipped out of the cabin.

Several moments passed as Maya's eyes took in her surroundings. Moonlight was the only illumination but it beamed in steadily from a pair of portholes, which ran along the side of the ship, and part of a larger window which ran along the vessel's rear. Around her were the male equivalents of her former lodgings. A closet of various clothes, shoes, swords, daggers, and a pair of pistols were in one corner of the room. Various souvenirs sat on shelves. Tools of the trade were mounted in brackets for easy retrieval. Several maps had been gathered into a pile and weighed down by a sextant. All of it was practical ... but there was not enough room here for the both of them.

The sudden realization that she was unguarded sent a surge of excitement through her body. The aphrodisiac had been pitched into the sea but the reckless abandon it had already awakened caused her to take up one of the pistols and slip in the direction of the door. It was unlocked.

A peak revealed only a few men on duty and they were all engaged in their tasks. Maya slid out of the cabin and moved like a shadow to the rail. Her eyes peered over at the ocean and it occurred to her why she was unguarded. The waters were her cage ... stretching out beyond the range of her vision in every direction. Before her prison had been the laws of the city, now she had another metaphorical cage, and she could do nothing but pout. A frustrated sigh escaped her weary body and then she turned, snuck back to the cabin, and began the process of removing her clothing.

Maya took advantage of the privacy and used the chamber pot without an audience. The water and brushes allowed her to get the worst of the stink off her body and then she went to Joseph's closet. It would be silly to climb back into soiled garments so she slid into an oversized tunic and breaches, and then pulled them together with a rope belt. A mirror confirmed her suspicions of how silly she looked but it was better than the alternatives.

A strange sensation surrounded her when she sat back upon the room's bed. Everything she was now wearing smelled like Joseph. The shirts ... the breaches ... the bed ... it was all him. To her surprise, he was much cleaner than most men of the sea, and this allowed her not to shiver under the weight of sweat soaked fabric. Still ... this was the man whom had captured her and then tossed her into a hold with two sex slaves. But isn't that what I am? Well ... no, I'm a courtier, not a whore ... but ... still ... what does he want with me? Did he smell the value on me when we met? Maybe he's just trying to keep me whole so that I'll fetch a better price. Maybe he wants me for himself ... maybe ... maybe ... maybe ...

Maya's mind tumbled like a ship in a storm, uncertain of anything. One of the smaller daggers was with her and she fingered its deadly edges as she thought. Maybe ... he can protect me from the others. Once we reach wherever we're going, I can escape. For now I'm stuck on a ship filled with idiots and fools. They would rape me to death, given an opportunity. Joseph sees value in me ... if I please him ... if I behave ... he won't be expecting it trouble. A false sense of security will allow me to get the drop on him. All I need to do ... is keep him placated.

Maya moved to the edge of the bed and tried to place the dagger into a nearby nook. Startled fingers felt metal underneath and she discovered there was already a small dagger hidden there. A moment of exploration allowed her to find two pistols and a rapier within easy reach of the bed. A small smile creased her lips as she folded up the dagger in her dirty clothes. Then Maya arranged herself in an alluring position on the bed ... and waited.

It did not take long for her captor to return. Once Joseph closed the door and slid the bolt into place, he turned toward Maya and froze. The young woman lay on one side, her body was bathed in moonlight, the oversized clothing hung from her like robes, and he could not look away. Maya could not keep the victorious smirk from her face, and a moment later she realized she was sending an even more seductive signal to the man. As she wondered about the potential benefits of allowing the man to ravage her, he seemed to shake himself from the trance.

"I believe this setting will be better for you," Joseph final said as he moved to his closet and began to rummage through it. A remark about the women in the hold bubbled inside of Maya's throat but she swallowed hard in an effort to cut it down. "We're going to need to find a job for you that is worthy of your ... skills." There was a moment of silence between them and then an idea flickered in the dark.

"How many men are in your crew?" Maya asked.

"Forty-three," Joseph said without pausing.

"Then perhaps I should become your ship's masseuse," she offered and her captor scratched his stubble in thought. "My standard massage is about half of an hour with about that much time for me to recover from the effort and clean up for the next patron. The standard amount of clients is eight per day with less when I get paid more. If I push myself I could get the whole crew in five days."

"Bah," Joseph grunted, "I can get the girls downstairs for that if I choose."

"They aren't as good as I am," Maya heard herself saying with a little more fire in her eyes than she had meant to present.

"Oh?" her captor said with a raised brow. Maya met his gaze and began to flush at the power which stared back at her. A need to lunge at him began to well up once more and she knew she had to do something or else it might happen. With a deep breath, she rose from the bed and straitened her spine.

"Bring me a bucket of seawater and a rag that I can use on your skin." She then turned her back on him and began to strip the bed. "I don't hear you moving," she said in a sing-song tone. A deep chuckle resonated in her ears and then the bolt slid open and he went to comply with her instructions. Maya moved the weapons which she found and then remade the bed. Then she laid out a blanket from the closet and found bits of rope to pull back her sleeves and hair.

When Joseph returned, Maya sat upon the wooden bed in the posture of a noble lady. "Welcome," she greeted in a courtly accent. "Remove your clothes." His grin widened into something more akin to a leer, but she sniffed and acted as if she did not notice. The buttons on his tunic were undone and he shrugged off the fabric, caught it, and then tossed it upon a dresser. His breeches were then undone and a moment later the young lady was able to gaze upon the entirety of his body.

The greatest artists in all of Paris would have murdered one another for the opportunity to use Joseph's body for their model. Toned skin had been bronzed by the sun and layered in muscle by work. The training of a gentleman allowed him to stand upright and though his intellect shone brightly, she could see the feral animal beneath. He was a man ... a real man ... and the woman wanted him inside of her.

Once again, Maya took deep breaths to steady herself ... it was only then that the smell hit her. While he was pleasing to look upon, the stink of sea life resonated out to fill the cabin. Maya's lust came immediately under control and her professional demeanor kicked in. Carefully, she made her way to the portals and opened the windows. She then picked up the rags, drenched them in the bucket, and set to work.

Saltwater aided Maya as she scrubbed the filth away from his body and made his presence bearable. Touching his skin reawakened her primal needs but she focused on the task, ignoring the firmness of his muscles and the gleam of his features. When she finished, Maya ordered Joseph down upon the blankets she had laid out, face down. Then, she straddled his naked body and ran her fingers along his back.

"Ooohhh," she said automatically, using the sultry voice she had developed for her job, "your body is so ... hard." The words were intentional, developed through years of work in a brothel ... designed to make the men hard and pliable in her hands ... willing to do her bidding and produce more money so that they could stay. "You are such a hard worker," she purred, "so many muscles ... so many knots ... let me help you relax."

Practiced fingers applied pressure, kneading with the strength and practice of her art as she listened to his sounds. Long and ecstatic moans oozed out of him as years of tension began to ease from his body. The habitual rhythm of experience carried her across his landscape, and while this was a new kind of bliss for him, for Maya, this was a voyage taken a thousand times before. A long time was needed for her to work his back into pliant putty, but eventually she had him when she wanted.

He was too relaxed to move ... to at ease to respond ... so she picked up one of the pistols she had put within easy reach, then she pulled back the hammer and placed the barrel against the back of the man's skull. For several moments the only sounds were made by the ship upon the sea. Maya could feel his muscles tighten along her inner thighs but he stayed where he was. He had kept his head to one side, during her labors, and in his eyes she could see the calculating look, like a chess player whom just made a terrible move. The pistol's weight was heavy and the grip filled her arm with the power of death. It was her move.

"Dear, sir," she said without changing her sultry tone, "your conduct has been a mixture of both rude and gentlemanly behavior. I believe that makes you a gentleman rogue ... a rake who loves this game which you play. That said ... I am not common ... lady, noble, or otherwise. I am not a wilting flower, I am not helpless, and if you decide to take advantage of me again ... I will put you down." Leaning down caused her to slide the barrel around to press against the center of his forehead. She then sprawled out to lie upon him, placed her mouth by his ear and whispered, "Do you understand?"

Joseph's eyes told her that he understood, but then ... a complication which she had not anticipated occurred. At this distance, his newly cleaned body was exuding a scent that rolled up her nostrils and affected her much more strongly than everything else about him combined. A shiver rushed through to her, curling her toes, and straightened her nipples which where pressing hard against the fabric that held them in place.

Hard muscles ripped against her body and the acceleration of his heartbeat pulsed through her skin. Droplets of sweat beaded up on their skin and the sound of gentle breathing began to deepen. Maya knew the signs. As a courtesan, she had weaved excitement, fanned lust, and teased both men and women into fits of orgasmic bliss. The work had been rewarding in dozens of ways, but now she found herself struggling for control.

Though these emotions burned hot, she felt Joseph was a cad ... and he would lose interest in her the moment she gave him the satisfaction he was craving. This honorable act ... his playful teasing ... it would all dry up the moment she let him inside. The mind screamed these facts but the body was not listening. A soft moan exhaled as she forced herself into a seated position, and then she dragged her fingernails long his back. Lust seemed to radiate off of him like the ground shimmering on a hot day.

Maya stood carefully and stepped away, allowing Joseph to rise from where he lay. The posture of his body said he was thinking about taking his chances and attacking. Maya's hand traveled to one of her hiding places and drew forth the second pistol. As she pulled back the second hammer, Joseph's eyes grew wider and then he began to laugh.

"Well played, Lady Maya," he said as he lowered his eyes in defeat.

"I believe it would be inappropriate for us to spend the night together," she said in a steely tone. "I shall perform my duties to your crew and you will spend your nights among the men."

"As you command, great lady," he said with a glorified bow. "May I retrieve my garments first?"

"As you wish," she told him. Moving to the bed, Maya sat and watched Joseph move around and gather up what he needed. He then opened the door, gave her a respectful bow, and slipped out into the night. Maya strode quickly across the room and slid the deadbolt into place. An excited breath escaped her lips and the fatigue of her day settled upon her. The pistols fit easily back into their hiding places and she released the hammers gently. Then she unfastened her restraints and allowed her clothing and hair to fall where they willed.

Settling into the blankets drew his scent over every inch of her body. Sensations of him wrapped around her ... his hands on her flanks ... his breath on her throat ... a trail of nibbling kisses traveled to those places where she wanted him to be. Talented hands scrapped across her landscape, and the skills which had given pleasure to many, turned toward her own needs.

The ship swayed as Maya pressed past the folds of her delicate labia, and brought forth the liquid warmth of her core. Warm slickness spread, enhancing each sensation, creating moans of satisfaction as the squeezed her eyes. An image of his body slid into her body with the movements caused by her hands. The pressing her digits in her body brought her lust to a peak and she whimpered in shuttering bliss. When at last it was over she settled, and only then did she let herself drift. Tomorrow would bring her new terrors ... but she would meet them as a mortal did. With caution, with courage, and only then with all of the skills she had wrought.