Chapter Two
The Voyage
The smell below deck was far worse than any history book ever spoke of. It was a New York sewer on new years eve when a massive food poisoning event happened. Vomit and shit, shit and vomit swished with the bounding seas. I dared not venture to the lowest deck, where the Lakota where housed.
The troops on the ship seemed unaffected. How any one could get used to that smell, threw me. I was happy I was either in the Captain's Quarters or my Fiancee's Quarters. Both were aft and above the main deck.
I was drawing on a large sheet of parchment. The bird had looked like a typical seagull but was twice the size. The markings were definite among the species.
I lay naked on my belly, in the captains bed as her last load slowly filled the rag between my cheeks.
"You don't have to marry her you know." Azalea sipped a tin cup of whiskey.
"Nonsense, I'm her slave. I wear her brand!" I didn't look up from my drawing.
"That is the tribe brand you had burned into your flesh. Ownership is tattooed." She sat on her bed next to me, watching me draw.
"She said it was "Her mark". You telling me she lied?" I finally faced her beside me. This Futah and I, had had sex for three days, and she was telling me this now? I hadn't had a night with my fiancee, as the captain cashed in on Ubabe's promise!
"It's her tribe..." She sipped the whiskey. "...But you are not really engaged yet. What did she offer?"
"Protection, sex with slave white women of my own, and a seat next to her in Nigeria. Good offer yeah?" I thought there was no way Azalea could top that.
"Yeah okay sure. You knocked her up didn't you?" She set the cup down on a table, and laid next to me.
"Yeah, she let me." I was looking into the dark eyes of the Captain. The captain smiled and then nodded.
"I'm not gonna stem coat this, sorry, sugar coat this. You aren't hers yet. I have to marry her to you, and even then, she may not tattoo you. She may keep you as you are now...her slave prostitute." She swigged down the last of the whiskey and poured more in her cup.
I laughed. I thought it a joke.
"Where are you right now?" She asked. I thought for a moment, then understood what she meant.
"Whoring for my fiancee" I finally admitted. She sat back up and looked down at my defeated face.
"So don't marry her. I may not be willing to give my womb to you after two dates like Mistress Ubabe did, but I'd keep you busy with breeding little white women! I also would not whore you out to every officer I needed a favor from. You'd be a proper husband to me. Still naked all the time, and with few rights, but more than you have now!" She mounted over me and placed her cock at my lips.
"Now whore, do your Mistress's bidding and please me again." She said with menace followed by a low chuckle. Her cock slid down my throat with less effort than before. I was getting used to this. The mix of the musk of her cock, and sweet smell of her vagina mixed in my nose each time I inhaled. I was lost in pleasure from her pre-cum when I felt the full jets pass my throat and get deposited directly in my stomach.
"Think about it huh?" She said as she laid next to me. I fell asleep wrapped in her massive arms.
When I woke, Capt Azalea was not in bed. I freshened up in the tub, and made my way to my Mistress's quarters. I knocked.
"Enter!"
"Mistress? May I speak with you?" I asked. She was sitting at a desk with her full uniform on. She seemed to be doing paperwork.
"Yes Fiancee." She waved me forward.
"It's about Capt Azalea." I began.
"Speak."
"She has made a proposal to me." I looked at her face. She never looked up from her documents.
"Continue."
"She said that if I don't marry you, that she would marry me instead. I'd be a proper husband, instead of a slave-prostitute."
"Alright." She said calmly.
"Alright?!" I might have let anger touch my voice.
"So marry her instead. Be a 'proper husband'. You will have more rights under Futah law, but not much more. But if she wants to spoil you, she can. No thorn in my foot!" She said still not looking up from her paperwork.
I reached down expecting my jaw to be on the floor. Tears were forming in the corners of my eyes.
"NOOO Ubabe! I want to marry you!!!" I shouted in anger and heartbreak.
Blindingly fast she leapt over the desk and was toe to toe with me. She grabbed me by the waist and lifted me to her face. Anger was there.
"You do love me Michael!" Her face melted into happiness, and she kissed me. She held me tight as I wrapped my legs around her waist, to keep from falling. He kisses continued. Now I was crying, as was she.
I made love to her. Slow and passionate love. When I had given her womb every drop of seed I had, I took my favorite pillow, and laid on it. She ran her fingers through my short hair.
"Was it a test?" I finally said from her heavy teat.
"Yes and no..." She murmured. She had cum vaginally for the first time, and was wiped out. "The salve the girls have been putting on your brands? It's to erase the brand. The scars will disappear. Proper husbands only get the tattoo of marriage. Slave husbands wear the brand. Azalea is my cousin, and one of my closest friends. I hope that doesn't anger you Michael. I needed to know..."
I had to put myself in her shoes before I could begin to understand. She had a lot of power, would her mate be a slave to a queen, or a husband to a Captain? The one that wanted an easy life would have picked the latter. I didn't.
"I'm okay Ubabe."
"Good, now sleep on a regular pillow. You make my tit sore when you lay in the same spot!" She smiled a bit and pulled me up.
"Only say my name in private okay baby? Otherwise, Queen or Mistress. It's protocol."
"Yes my Queen. I love you Ubabe."
"I love you, Dr Michael Carson!"
The shores of England stunk. The water was brimming with refuse. Global catastrophic changes would still happen in this time line. Only because water treatment plants had yet to be invented.
Ubabe allowed me to wear my old uniform to Londinium, or what would have been London. She flaunted me like a trophy wife, err, husband to all of the high society Futah on the isle.
"The Norfolk pale breeding farm has turned out some excellent males, Nothing as pretty as yours with his yellow hair.., why is he dressed my Queen?" A snobby Futah asked as we made our way to the auction stage.
"This is my finacee, Michael."
"Surely you jest!"
"No I do not joke about the man I have fallen in love with, and I suggest you do not "jest" about it either. This man is a doctor, and a scientist. He is as smart or smarter than anyone you have on this shit smelling island, or, possibly all of Africa. Now if you don't mind Keisha, could you tell me if there are any decent pale females on today's auction?" Ubabe held me close to her. Her guards stood at attention.
"Why are you at an auction my Queen?" Keisha asked humbly.
"Because the best will be here, and my husband deserves the best. I could go into the villages like a common soldier and just pluck women, but what would the Futah Baronesses say after I raped their counties of their women?" Ubabe was near growling now. Her patience for this entitled wench was at it's end.
"Yes my queen, they have several of the red headed variety, and some brought in from the Nordlands, that have yellow hair like your Michelle."
"One more diss to my future husband, you, your wives and husbands will all be in my fields."
"You can't touch me, I'm vice Governess!" Keisha laughed. She spilled the wine glass she was holding as Ubabe's guards grabbed her and escorted her out of the auction house.
