Nanette's Capture (Brackish Bay Book 1) Page 4

  Still, it gave me a greater appreciation for the solid woman in front of me. She was more muscular than fat, and her gray hair was cropped close to her head. She wore a shirt similar to the top of my sister's dress, but looser around the shoulders, and a pair of overalls like the men. She looked like she was tough enough to take a hike across the continent, a continent where it was no longer safe to be a woman alone.

  “Alone?”

  “Of course I did it alone. No one else wanted to be that foolish.”

  I gaped, impressed. She caught my look and raised an eyebrow. I looked down, embarrassed to be caught staring.

  “Eat while it's warm.”

  She pulled out a chair, and I hesitated, glancing at Suzanna. Of course, she was watching me. “Thank you.” I sat down, trying to keep from wincing. My bottom throbbed, aching so badly I wanted to jump up and down, but I dared not. So I sat and took a bite. The porridge was far better than I expected. Suddenly, my fatigue and hunger caught up with me, and I shoveled it in my mouth as quickly as I could politely do ‑ politely being a relative term. My sister ate demurely two chairs down, so she must have been fed well the night before. I was grateful.

  My stomach comfortably stretched, I examined the only other woman at the table, Jacqueline. She had dark circles under her eyes and short dark curly hair. She ate slowly, as if it were a chore. Lauren nudged her, and she picked up the pace a little, but eventually it slowed back down to a crawl.

  “Come on, Jackie. You have to eat. You have to keep up your strength, or you'll go with her.”

  “I wish I could.” Her voice was as hollow as her eyes.

  “Don't say that, sweetheart. You aren't going with her. You're staying right here. He'll need you, after, you know.”

  “I don't care.”

  That was apparently the wrong answer, because Lauren's voice sharpened. “Your lady does care. She needs to know that you'll stay here, that you'll help him.”

  “Okay.” The acquiescence, said in the same flat voice as the defiance was creepy, and I wondered.

  Chapter 3

  There were a lot of men in the dining room. Lauren seemed to notice my curiosity, and when I craned my neck, trying to see over the half wall, she nodded at me. I stood, cautious, but she didn't gainsay it. So I drifted to the side of the opening where I could look without being too obvious.

  There was Jeffery and Devon. I blushed at the reminder of his rough fingers on my skin, and my nipples hardened again. There was Tobin – where was Stephanie? oh. She was kneeling on a cushion at his feet, under the table, humiliation plainly written on her refined face. I felt a tiny glimmer of self-righteous satisfaction before I remembered that I could just as easily find myself in the same position. Which I'd rather not – I didn't want to alarm Suzanna. There was a big man at the end of the table. He ate sparingly, with mechanical motions, as if he derived no enjoyment from the food at all despite it being piled high with fruit and nuts. Most of which was left in the bowl untouched. There was another man near Tobin who I hadn't seen before. All of them wore similar clothing – sleeveless shirts and overalls, a chain on their necks with a medallion. The big man's was slightly larger than the rest. Given that and his position at the head of the table led me to believe that he must be Roy, the governor of this little territory.

  Did they not have any other women? I glanced back at the kitchen table. Jacqueline seemed to belong to someone, but I wasn't sure who. Stephanie obviously belonged to Tobin. I was going to belong to Jeffery. But the rest of the men didn't seem to have women. I wondered at that, wondered especially at Roy's lack of a woman. It seemed he would have gotten one before the others – unless the other women they'd caught on their property were unsuitable? And Stephanie seemed to be a lot of trouble. I wondered why they had kept her. I resolved to be well behaved, if only to save my aching bottom from another round with Jeffery's solid hand. Unthinking, I reached back and rubbed, then caught myself and snatched my hand away guiltily. Suzanna didn't seem to have seen, but Lauren gave me an amused look. I colored under her gaze.

  Not wanting to sit back down, I continued watching as the men ate, talking quietly among themselves of the various chores. Fishing, mending nets, maintaining the boats and the little fence that marked their territory, the various trip wires and signals they had devised to alert them to anyone crossing it. I learned that there were more men, not just the ones who'd stayed on the other side of the river. It sounded almost like there were multiple camps surrounding this one, and the thought gave me pause. Running away wouldn't have been especially smart on any day, but if there were as many men under Roy's command as there seemed to be, it would be downright impossible.

  Roy didn't participate in the conversation, which I found unusual, given that he was their leader. When they had all finished, Tobin nudged Stephanie, and she stood, collecting their bowls and taking them to the counter. I lowered my eyes, but she didn't speak to me. When she returned to her cushion, I took the empty bowls to the sink, and began washing them before I was asked, determined to show myself to be useful.

  I was too far away then to hear the subsequent conversation over the sounds of my scrubbing. Jeffery's touch on my shoulder startled me.

  “Oh!”

  He took my wrist and led me out to the dining room, to Roy's left, before pushing me down to my knees. Roy stared at me for a long moment.

  “She looks strong enough to be useful.” His voice told me he was the same man who'd threatened to give me back to the crocodiles, and I shivered.

  Jeffery answered. “Yes, she is.”

  “And we have taken her sister into our protection.”

  “Yes.”

  “You find her pleasing?”

  “I do.”

  “So you wish to keep her?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He nodded. “You may keep her. Nanette.” He snapped his fingers, and I shuffled forward on my knees. He leaned down, laying a thick chain around my neck and locking it with a small padlock. It seemed that he must have many of these little locks, as the ring on his belt contained many little keys, each with a number engraved on them. “You belong to me, to the House of Brackish Bay. I expect you to obey every command I give you, immediately and without complaint.”

  “Yes, sir.” I bowed my head. I would do almost anything in the world to stay close to my sister, to protect her.

  “As Jeffery is a loyal member of my house, I give you to him for his pleasure and use. I expect you to please him well if you wish to maintain the status his ownership gives you.”

  His ownership gave me status? I wondered what I would be if I was not owned by Jeffery, what had happened to other women who didn't please these men. Were they given to the others, the men who were lower in the ranks, or merely sold? I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  “Take her.”

  Jeffery nodded, and snapped his fingers. I crawled to him, and he stroked my hair, as if I were an animal, a pet. I flushed red. Then he turned and left the room. I looked to Roy, and he dismissed me with a flick of his fingers. I hurried after Jeffrey, afraid to stand, afraid to ask where he was going or what he was doing.

  I found myself in the long hall again, and then Jeffery disappeared through one of the many doors. I followed as quickly as I could, finding the door open still. I trembled. He turned to me, and beckoned me in.

  There was a rug on the reed floor, softening the impact on my knees, and I knelt in front of his feet where he sat on the bed, gazing down at me with the heat I'd seen before. I blushed, and the fabric over my chest scraped my puckered nipples. I could see the bite on his arm had been cleaned, and it was scabbed over already. He unfastened his overalls, pulling them down to expose his penis. I swallowed hard, eying it. Somehow I didn't remember Tommy's being quite that thick or long. It stood out straight from his body, the thatch of brown hair curling around its base, and a pearly bead of arousal oozing from its tip.

  “Please me.”

  For a moment I wasn't sure
what he wanted. And then he ran his fingers through my hair, tightening them until I cried out; and then his member was in my open mouth, cutting off the sound and filling it up. I choked, my eyes watering. My hands scrabbled at his knees and he pulled my head back, giving me a chance to breathe. “Suck my cock.” My body ripened at the sound of his coarse language, and I took a deep breath before he shoved my face forward again, filling up my mouth.

  It was all I could do to keep breathing and not choke on the saliva that pooled and spilled out the corners of my mouth, to keep my tongue covering my teeth – I knew enough to guess that he didn't want to be bitten – and let him direct me, pleasuring himself with my lips and tongue. He tasted salty, and bitter – a little like the water around here, a little like the oil I'd scented on him earlier. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, on not biting down, even when I was afraid I was going to vomit. Impatient, he stood up, and began thrusting with his hips while he held my head still. My insides felt hot and liquid. I gagged and wiggled, my hands tangled in his pants to keep myself from falling.

  His voice was a low murmur. “Anyone can see you.” My eyes flew open, and I realized the door was still open. Humiliation flooded my body and I moaned, but he smiled. “I like the sounds you make. Be a good slave and moan for me.” I whimpered against his thrusting cock, my body hot and ripe. “Don't you want to show the governor what a good little slave you are, sucking your owner's cock?” I couldn't help it. I moaned again, mortified and wet. His thrusts sped up. “And if you please me, I might see my way clear to pleasing you back. You like my fingers in your cunt, don't you, little slave?” I groaned at the memory flooding my senses, the arousal that spiked at his words. “But if you don't please me, I'll just flip you over my knee and spank you again.” Fear seemed to heat my insides even more, and my aching bottom throbbed at the reminder. I groaned, trying to plead with him, but I couldn't form words with his cock filling my mouth and brushing the back of my throat with every thrust. His next words were tight and breathy. “If you want to please me, be a good little slave, and swallow it all.” My eyes flew open and I stared into his, afraid I wouldn't be able to do it, not with drool dripping off my chin. He groaned and rammed in until my lips pressed against his curly hair and he thickened, pulsing with his orgasm. I struggled, my throat hurting, but his hand was iron, holding me down on his cock until he finished and I gagged, choking, swallowing desperately. When he released me, I coughed, trying to swallow all the fluid in my mouth, but some spilled. I wiped my chin hurriedly, hoping he hadn't seen it. But he did. A finger tipped my chin up and I flushed, caught.

  “Clean your fingers off.”

  I hesitated, then reached for my dress.

  “No. Lick them off. Wipe your face with your fingers and lick them.” I shook, more embarrassed than I'd ever been, and unbelievably aroused. I obeyed, tasting his hot bitter cum, my own saliva. I wiped my streaming eyes and nose, and this time he handed me a handkerchief. Grateful, I finished cleaning my face.

  I watched him with wide eyes. “Are... are you pleased?”

  He grinned at me. “I am pleased.”

  I relaxed, slumping down in my relief.

  “But not so pleased you are going to escape a spanking.” The bolt of heat his words sent through my insides seemed contrary to the fear that bloomed in my belly, but he didn't seem to care about either. He lifted me, tucking me between his knees and laying me over his left knee, my upper body draped on his bed. It was so soft I might have sighed in pleasure if I hadn't been so worried about the hand that was flipping the fabric off my bottom. He squeezed my buttocks and I cried out, the throb intensifying.

  “Good girl, Nanette. I'm not angry with you. So this is just a little spanking.”

  I whimpered, reassured. His hand lifted, and spanked down hard. I squealed, wriggling like a fish on a hook. He pressed down on my back, pinning me to his bed, and spanked me again. Again, again, until I had a dozen new handprints on my already red bottom and the throbbing felt louder than my heartbeat. He released me, and I lay still, afraid to move, my whole body painted in shades of heat. He lifted my right leg and shifted me, so that my thighs straddled his left thigh, leaving my vulva open to his perusal. I squirmed, the throb spreading to my swollen lips. He slid a finger along my slit, and I could feel the wetness coating it.

  “Such a good slave,” he murmured, and it almost undid me. I tried to wiggle away from him, but he held my hips down with his left hand, and slid more fingers along my slit, spreading my thick lips and coating them with the copious moisture my body produced. I stuffed some of the blanket from the bed in my mouth to stifle the cries his teasing fingers inspired. He found the little nub where my pleasure centered and circled it, again and again and again, refusing to touch it. I panted, shifting my hips, desperate for greater intensity. His finger left me and I moaned, and then he flicked my clitoris, the sensation sharp and shocking. I shrieked, a blaze of arousal threatening to consume me. He resumed circling it. I moaned, dejected and helpless. I could feel the liquid sliding from my vagina to my clitoris, soaking into my own curls.

  “Such an eager little clit.” His voice was mocking, and I whimpered. “Such a wet cunt.” I flushed red, unable to focus on anything other than need. “Tell me.”

  “Sir?”

  “Tell me your clit is eager.”

  “My – my clit is – is eager.”

  “Eager for what?”

  “Eager for – for – for – your finger.”

  He flicked it again and I cringed, panting. “Like that?”

  “N-n-no – no! Not – not – that.”

  “Oh?” He flicked it again, and I gasped, my hips gyrating on his thigh.

  “You clit is so swollen. I think it likes it.”

  “No-no-no-”

  He flicked it again.

  “OH! Oh, oh, oh!” I could feel the lubrication pouring out of my cunt. My thighs tightened on his, desperately trying to tip my hips down so I could press the swollen nub against something solid, something that would ease the need.

  “No, little slave. You get what pleasure I give you. No relief without me. You understand?”

  I moaned, the wave of need tumbling me under. He pressed his broad thumb against my clit then, the pressure on my button triggering wild flailing of my limbs. He held my hips down, blocking my hands with his shoulder, and ground his thumb into my oversensitive nub of flesh. I wailed, and then he started rubbing in a circle. I erupted, all heat and molten liquid and high volume. I groaned with the exquisite release – it was like nothing I'd ever experienced in my life.

  When it was over, I lay limp on his bed, still draped over his knee. I wasn't sure I could move if I wanted to, but I didn't want to. My cunt twitched with emptiness, but I wasn't sure I cared. His hand stroked my bottom, smoothing the handprints of my second spanking.

  “Good girl.” His pride wrapped itself around my heart and I wondered again if it would be worth belonging to him, if he could make me feel this way.

  Chapter 4

  When I had recovered enough to move, Jeffery lifted me to standing, and kissed my forehead. “You belong to me, Nanette. Now you will have to work for the House, to earn your keep, as do I. I have work to do today. Lauren will be in charge of you while I am not available. I expect to hear a good report when I come back this evening. If I do, I will bring you to my bed tonight. If I do not, I will spank you and you will sleep in the kitchen. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, still drained from my recent pleasure, but my bottom throbbed. “Yes, sir.” I definitely wanted more time in his bed, and didn't want to be spanked any more.

  “Roy, of course, has the authority to do anything he wants with you, whether it is work anywhere in our territory, or work in his bed.” I cocked my head at him, unsure I liked this train of conversation. He ignored me. “Lauren has authority to order you to do any work that needs to be done, and she has permission to punish you as she sees fit if you do not obey. You understand?” />
  “Yes, sir.”

  He kissed me on the forehead again. “Go to the kitchen now.”

  I hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, sir.” I felt his eyes on my body as I left the room.

  Passing through the open door, I remembered my squeals and groans, how anyone could have heard them. Fear seized my heart as I wondered what Suzanna had heard, what she was thinking. The dining room was empty when I entered, and Lauren was the only one in the kitchen. I looked around, the fear making me bold. “Where is Suzanna?”

  Lauren looked up from chopping the onions. “I sent her to rearrange the pantry building with Jacqueline.” She brushed my hair away from my face in an unexpectedly tender gesture, and it reminded me of my mother. My heart constricted. “I thought you might prefer she not hear that.”

  My face flushed hot again, and I stared at the floor, humiliated, but grateful. “Thank you.”

  “You weren't a virgin, were you?”

  I bit my lip, still embarrassed. “No, ma'am.”

  She nodded, satisfied. “Good. I didn't think he'd be that rough if you were, but I wanted to check.”

  For some reason, I felt compelled to defend the man who'd given me pleasure beyond anything I'd ever known before. “He isn't that rough. At least... not... all the time. Just when he... spanks me. Or...” I remembered choking on his cock. “...when he... he... puts it in my mouth.”