Treasure of the sea |Lesbian story|

CHAPTER XVI

Sounds of footsteps. "Captain says you need to get out. You're part of the crew now. You must work to earn your room and board." It was Dinnington's voice, muffled by the closed door.

I lifted my head a little and looked at the doorway expressionlessly. "May I refuse?"

"No."

I got out of bed and threw open the door. Mr. Dinnington stared at me, surprised by my expression filled with anger. "What if I did?"

"I guarantee it's not a good idea, Miss Adler."

"You are holding me here against my will. I have now become your slave, but I will not accept becoming nothing of the sort. So, no, Mr. Dinnington, I will not agree to work for this crew."

"Please, Miss. It's no use rebelling. You'll only hurt yourselves."

"You will hurt me. You are already hurting me. "

"Listen carefully, I know this situation is very difficult for you. I can't even imagine how you feel. But there are times when you can fight and there are times when it is best to give in. And this, Miss Adler, is the time to give in," he spoke, obviously distressed. "Trust me. Just this once. I know you can."

"No, no! What kind of person would I be if I gave in like this?"

"A person with excellent self-preservation instincts."

I swallowed hard.

"Believe me, Miss Adler, it is better to lose your dignity than your life. You know perfectly well what the alternative is. Either this, or being sold to a brothel. And you wouldn't last long in such a place."

There was a brief moment of silence, after which I lifted my gaze into his eyes and spoke in a harsh tone. "All right. "

"You will join Quinn. You'll clean the deck with him." Dinnington retrieved a scrubbing brush, a rag, and a bucket full of soapy water for me. Quinn greeted me with a wave of his hand. I tucked up my skirts and knelt on the ground, then dipped the scrubbing brush in the water. I did not speak. I stood with my head bowed for hours, my back bent and my arms rubbing hard on the wooden floor, scrubbing every spot of dirt, every crevice, plank by plank. I don't know where I could find all that energy. My arms ached terribly, yet I kept scrubbing, never asking for a break, never stopping for even a minute to catch my breath. Anger. Oh, that anger that inflamed my soul was like a propellant that never ended.

"Miss," Quinn spoke. The sun was setting. The air was growing crisp. "We're done for the day. We'll continue tomorrow."

I didn't stop. My fingers, calloused and dry, trembled with the effort.

"Miss." Quinn tried to get my attention, to get me to stop somehow, unsuccessfully. "Stop."

"I'll go on alone," I told him. "You may go."

"But..."

"You may go."

Quinn, uncertain, took a few steps backwards. Then he walked away, leaving me alone. I didn't stop rubbing until it was too dark to see anything. The sailors who passed by me watched me with interest. I could feel their mischievous eyes on me, as if amused by my insistence on obeying their demands. They loved to see me so meek and obedient.

"Hey, milady, wouldn't you feel like rubbing something else instead? Something softer, perhaps?"

Laughter ensued.

I pretended not to hear.

The man whistled. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

I squinted and kept my eyes closed for a long time, until the voices disappeared completely. I stood as still as a statue, the soaked rag in my hands. My fingers were frozen.