Nanette's Capture (Brackish Bay Book 1) Page 8

  “Jacqueline, hand me the tawse.”

  I squirmed at the unfamiliar word, twisting to try to see what it was. Once I'd seen, I wished I hadn't. It had a long handle and a thick flat tail that was split in two places, making three strips of leather. It cracked across my bottom and I shrieked, gasping at the unbelievable pain. A line of fire burned its way to my core and I squirmed frantically. He tucked my legs under his left thigh and shifted me forward until my nose nearly bumped the floor. Another crack and my hands flew back, covering my bottom and trying to rub away the pain. He caught my wrists easily and tucked them against the small of my back, pressing in until I arched, tipping my bottom higher for him. Another two cracks and I wailed, wishing I had kept my stupid mouth shut. The next crack landed across the crease between buttock and thigh and I began to cry. A final crack across the back of my thighs and he released me, pushing me back down to the floor. I knelt up, afraid to sit with the throbbing in my bottom.

  I felt a hand on my hair, and I turned, sniffling. Jessica caressed my face with a delicate finger. “Such a good girl.”

  I sniffled some more, not feeling much like a good girl. “Thank you, my lady.”

  It wasn't until I saw the awe and pride in Jacqueline's face that I realized the sound behind me was the scrape of Roy's spoon in his bowl. I stayed where I was, my head resting on the bed, Jessica's finger on my face, until Roy's words roused me. “Get up.”

  I did, standing before him with my hands clasped penitently. “I'm sorry, my lord.”

  He snorted, but it was laughter. “Don't be. Thank you.” He handed me the empty bowl, and I saw a faint glimmer of something a bit like determination in his eyes.

  “You're welcome, my lord.”

  I took the bowl, and Jacqueline looked up. “Go ahead and take it back to the kitchen with your own. I'll stay here with Jessica.” I nodded, leaving the tray with Jacqueline's bowl on it where it was, and slipped out the door.

  Each step going down the stairs hurt. There was no one left in the dining room, and Lauren was alone in the kitchen. She look a look at the bowls and then my face before taking them out of my hands and spinning me around. I protested, but she pushed me over a chair and lifted my dress.

  “Please, no! Please, ma'am, he already punished me, please, please, please don't spank me again.”

  “Shush, girl. I'm not going to spank you. I just want to see why you're moving so stiffly.”

  I settled down, my face still flushed with embarrassment. Her fingers were light on my welts. “What did you do?”

  “I called him a good boy.”

  She barked out a laugh. “And he only gave you six?”

  I nodded. “He was... amused.”

  She shook her head and pulled out a jar. Scooping out a dollop, she dropped it in my palm. It smelled vaguely sweet and bitter, medicinal.

  “Rub that in.” I thought about asking if Jeffery would mind, then reminded myself he'd told me to obey her. Surely he couldn't be angry if she told me to do it. So I stood up, rubbing my palms together and then smoothing it over my raw skin. I traced the puffy lines with my fingers, awed by how much they hurt.

  “Try to not sit down.”

  I nodded, adjusting my dress panels to cover my buttocks again, and wiped my hands with a cloth she held out.

  “What's wrong with Jessica?”

  She shrugged, her face closed. “Some sort of disease. No one knows exactly what it is, but she's getting weaker by the day. She won't last much longer.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She's his queen. The love of his life. His first, perfect slave. His partner.” She shrugged. “She's the one who's been with him since the beginning, since he was a boy and she was a girl and they wanted to find a way to protect their friends, a way to combine forces and carve out a little oasis in this dangerous world.”

  “Jacqueline called her Mistress.”

  “And so she is. Mistress of Brackish Bay, the Lady of the House. Jacqueline belongs to her. Stephanie is her lover, as are Roy's inner circle, the Ward brothers and the Herring brothers.”

  “Jeffery is her lover?” My voice seemed to rise a little.

  “Yes, of course.”

  I blinked, startled. “He never mentioned it.”

  Lauren snorted. “And? You're his slave. You expect him to tell you everything?”

  I blinked again, wondering. Did I expect him to tell me everything that was going on in the house, about all the relationships between the people? I did, actually, expect that. And it didn't seem unreasonable, no matter what Lauren thought of it. If I was going to throw my lot in with the House of Brackish Bay, I expected to be informed. I made up my mind to talk to Jeffery when he returned.

  She broke into my thoughts. “Eat before it's completely cold.”

  I remained standing while I obeyed.

  The rest of the morning was spent finishing the canning that Lauren had started the day before, and cooking dinner for everyone, including a number of additional men and women who were working on the island that day. Jeffery came into the kitchen just as we were finishing and surprised me with a hand under my skirts. I squealed, and Lauren scolded him sharply. He apologized for intruding, then picked me up and bumped my back into the nearest clear wall, my legs wrapped tight around his waist, my arms around his neck.

  “Oh!”

  He grinned at me, a wicked light in his eyes. “How much did you miss me, little slave?”

  My arousal had finally faded as I concentrated on other things, but feeling his hard cock through his pants, pressing tight against my sopping slit, brought it all back in a rush. I moaned softly. “A lot.”

  “Good girl.”

  I tipped my face up, hoping for a kiss, but he just smiled that cruel smile and lazily ground his pelvis into mine. His fingers dug into my buttocks and I winced, which only widened his smile. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the wall behind my head, his hot whispers in my ear. “I expect you to serve me well tonight before you get any relief. I want to feel your tongue on my cock. And I want your poor empty cunt to drip down your thighs all day, just thinking about how much you want to suck me. How much you want to feel my fingers inside you.”

  I squirmed against him, every movement inflaming my arousal. My nipples were so hard I was afraid they'd wear through my dress. He put me down, and I stumbled, holding tightly to his clothes to steady myself. His hands spanned my waist, and I felt small, vulnerable. He reached up then and pinched my nipples hard. I gasped, my hands covering my breasts protectively as I hunched over. My clit pulsed with need.

  A thick finger under my chin directed me to straighten up. “Are you hiding your tits from me?” His voice was amused. “Up.”

  I straightened my spine, lifting my chin at the pressure from his finger. “Hands down.”

  I clenched my jaw, swallowing hard, and slowly lowered my hands. Pressing them flat to my hips, I took a deep breath.

  “Shoulders back. Didn't your father ever teach you how to stand up straight?”

  He had, and I found myself shifting into better posture at his words. It left my breasts exposed and vulnerable. The tips throbbed, crinkled and tight with pain and pleasure. He cupped my breasts then, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over my nubs until I shuddered. His forefingers slid closer and closer. My chest heaved with the effort of staying still while he played. He pinched then, gently, twisting until my head fell back against the wall and I groaned aloud, no longer caring who might hear me in the dining room. Abruptly he released me, and I stumbled back a step, bracing myself against the wall. He leaned in and nipped my earlobe. “Good little slave.” And then he was gone.

  Lauren stared after him, her arms folded and a scowl on her face. “Jeffrey! What am I going to do now? She's useless like that.” He must have said something flippant, because she cursed under her breath. I took a deep breath, and attempted to stand up. My legs wobbled but I made it.

  “I can help.”

  She eyed me crit
ically. “Start carrying the food out to the table. I'll put it on the counter in order of seating, starting with Roy.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” My limbs were weak with want, but didn't want to seem completely useless. So I steadied each plate with both hands, and took one at a time to the table. Jeffery patted my aching bottom every time I passed him, which didn't help matters at all. Finally everyone had been served, and I thought I could escape to the kitchen – but it was not to be. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor. I bit my lip, whining softly, but he raised an eyebrow and I went. Kneeling at his feet while he ate and conversed was no less humiliating than it had been the night before, and quite a bit worse given the thrumming of excitement in my blood and the lack of other slaves present. Lauren brought my plate to him, and he placed it on the floor, but this time didn't give me a spoon. I nearly cried.

  A hand in my hair pushed me towards it, so I gave up and leaned forward. It was a variety of fried fish and vegetables on top of rice. I glanced up. He wasn't watching. I picked up the fish with my fingers and ate it. The one benefit of being alone under the table was that there was no one to tattle on me. I smiled to myself and ate quickly, careful to block the view of my plate with my shoulder, just in case he glanced down, and keeping my head low, so it wouldn't be obvious I wasn't eating like a dog. Though why that pleased him, I had no idea. It was incredibly humiliating. Still, the food was delicious, as was everything that Lauren touched. The spice was just right, the breading fatty and crisp but not soggy. I filled my stomach, pleased that the vegetables I'd cut for her had fried up so well.

  After a bit, I paused. Nothing was left but the rice on my plate, and that would be difficult to eat with my fingers. Not that I couldn't do it. But if I did, it would be harder to hide it. Rice was sticky – I couldn't just lick my fingers and hide them if he looked down. I thought about trying to eat like a dog, and found the idea unpleasant. Glancing upwards again, he seemed to be discussing something about moving some of the house's big nets from one side of the river to another. That ought to take a bit of time. I scooped up rice in my fingers and shoveled it in my mouth. It was beyond good, having been cooked in fish broth and having soaked up the dipping sauce served with the vegetables. But it was very sticky. Juice ran down my chin and my fingers stuck together. I continued to eat, hoping to finish before he wanted my attention.

  It wasn't to be so. He leaned down and tugged on a lock of my hair, and I straightened up, bumping my head again. I winced. When would I learn? Scooting back out, I looked up. He glanced down and started to laugh at me. I flushed, humiliated, as he called for a wet cloth, still laughing. When Lauren brought it, I could see even her smirking at my appearance. My face got hot, and I hung my head, but he was having none of it. Cloth in hand he tipped my face back then washed me before handing it to me. “Wash your fingers.” I obeyed, glancing longingly at the last bit of food in my bowl.

  My voice rose in a soft plea. “Spoon?”

  He raised an eyebrow, then relented, handing me his spoon. I could tell he'd used it, and suddenly the idea of licking the same spoon he had was very erotic. Given that he'd not kissed me, we'd not exchanged saliva at all. I stuck the spoon in my mouth and ran my tongue over it, wondering if I'd finally lost all sense. The rice called to me, so I finished eating, the damp cloth firmly in hand for any mishaps. There were none, and I finally knelt up, resting my head against his thigh while he petted me absently and I idly sucked on the spoon.

  Chapter 8

  When everyone was finished with dinner, he took the spoon out of my mouth and set in on his plate to carry back to the kitchen. I piled his and mine together and took them out, then cleared the rest of the table. Various people thanked me as they were leaving, and I was gratified that my work did not go unnoticed. When I reached Devon's place, he caught me about the waist and pulled me down into his lap. I glanced in alarm at Jeffery, but he grinned at me. Flustered, I struggled a little, but Devon tucked me against his chest.

  “Shush, Nanette. I won't harm you.”

  I tried to relax, but my body was so sensitive the feel of his rough clothing on my skin caused me to squirm shamefully. He pressed his lips to my temple and I froze.

  His voice was in my ear, so quiet the others exiting wouldn't hear him. “Have you been a good little slave for my brother?”

  I nodded slowly, glancing to Jeffery for confirmation. He leaned back in his chair, the predatory grin on his face again. “Would you also be a good little slave for me?”

  I pushed away from him. “Only if he says so.”

  Jeffery's eyes were sparkling. “Good girl, Nanette.”

  I risked another glance at him.

  “Come here.”

  I rose, glad that Devon released me – there would have been no way I could escape otherwise. He pointed to the floor, and I sank down to the cushion. He caressed my hair, then leaned forward.

  “I might share you with my brother, if you are a good little slave.” Despite myself, despite my earlier distaste at the idea, I felt my body ripen. The idea of two such cocks as Jeffery's, filling and thrusting inside me was intoxicating.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He caressed my cheek, and they rose, leaving me alone on the cushion, dazed and desiring.

  Lauren came in then, washing the table and nudging me with her foot. “Get up. You still have plenty to work on before you can play.” I heaved a sigh, and got to my feet.

  The afternoon was spent in cleaning the dungeon. I wondered if it was Lauren's way of adding to Jeffery's torment, or if she was simply unaffected.

  The furniture was strange. There was an X shape, with big loops of metal at the end of each bar, and additional chains hanging. There was a lowercase T shape, also with big loops of metal at the end of each bar. There was a funny sort of bench with smaller, lower bars of padding on either side of a broad one. There was a large rectangular frame, with many metal hooks and loops, and a large variety of chains hanging off it. There was a triangular frame, three beams coming together in a point, also with loops and chains. Several regular benches and chairs, and a couple chests full of blankets and pillows. One wall was covered with implements of corporal punishment, and this is what she told me to clean first.

  “Take each one down. Clean it, polish it, return it to its hook.”

  I started at one side of the room, fingering each item with a raw fascination. I'd never seen anything like these items. Daddy had spanked Suzanna and me, true, but only with his hand, and gently at that. These were vicious. Designed to punish thoroughly, they were heavy, or thick, or broad; stiff or flexible, all of them sent a shiver down my spine. I came to a tawse similar to the one Roy had used, and bit my lip as I wiped it down. My bottom throbbed as I imagined what each one might feel like on my skin. At the far end were long whips that struck terror into my heart. Did he whip you? Jacqueline had inquired, as if it were a definite possibility. I prayed that I would never know what they felt like. Silently, I pleaded with the goddess. Eris, please help me please him so well that he never sees need to whip me.

  That done, Lauren directed me to the walls and I had to handle each item again to wash the wall. She provided me with a long handled mop to clean the highest portion of the walls. I finished by the time she had finished washing down all of the furniture. “Floor,” she said, leaving me with a fresh bucket and rags. I tied up my skirts and started in the far corner. It was nearly ten times the size of the bathroom, and took me considerably longer. By the time I finished, my shoulders were aching, my back was aching, and my buttocks was, of course, still aching. My knees were bruised, and my nipples were raw from chafing on the linen of my dress. I brushed my hair out of my face, kneeling up in the hallway. Surveyed the gleaming dungeon, I nodded to myself.

  After a long moment I felt eyes on me, and turned slowly. Roy was standing in the hallway watching me silently.

  “Yes, sir?” I was glad my voice didn't shake. Much.

  “You're a hard worker.”

&nb
sp; I nodded. “Yes, sir. My sister and I were raised to do whatever needed to be done.”

  “Raised by whom?”

  “Our father and mother.”

  “Why are you not still with them?”

  I looked away, and he let me take the time I needed to gather my voice. “We were attacked.” He waited. “My father is a fisherman. He taught us how to fish as soon as we could hold a net. He caught plenty extra, and sold them to people in the nearby village. We lived out in the forest, by the river where he worked.” He let the silence stretch out. “I don't know why. I'm not sure who. I just know that he saw them coming, and he told us to run, to escape before they saw us. We were supposed to go to Torrent and wait for him and Mom to find us there.” I wiped away my tears. “He said if they didn't find us in a year, they were probably dead.” I sniffled. “I messed up. I couldn't find Caladonia. I found Solon all right, but I couldn't find Caladonia. I don't know if I could find Torrent.”

  He was frowning. “Caladonia burned to the ground a year ago. Someone tried to work out electricity, tried to wire the whole place. They even got a small power plant running again. But something went wrong, either in the wiring or something else, and the whole place went up in flames and invisible death. It's a good thing you didn't find it. I've heard some of the wires are still live, can still kill through the water.”

  I blanched. “What about Torrent?”

  “Torrent is upriver from us. A few weeks hike at most.”

  My eyes widened. “Could we go?”

  He shook his head. “No. Between them and us is Ken's Corner, and he's dangerous. If he caught you in his territory, you would not live long. He and his men use women up like rag dolls.”

  I hung my head, defeated, until a sudden thought struck me. “Could we send word, to the man we were supposed to meet there? So if he sees them, he can tell them where we are?”