Nanette's Capture (Brackish Bay Book 1)

by Cerise Noble

  Jeffery’s hand caressed my cheek. I leaned into it, grateful and content. If serving him involved this kind of pleasure every time, it was a more than fair bargain. I ventured a smile, but his face was stern.

  My voice wavered. “Thank you?”

  The edge of his lip twitched and I watched him bite back a smile. His voice was gentle, but the underlying steel in the words was not. “I still owe you a spanking for that bite yesterday. And for nearly drowning yourself.”

  A tingle of fear started in my spine, and my smile wavered. “Spanking?”

  “Spanking.” He nodded, affirming it. “That's what happens when girls who belong to us misbehave.”

  I swallowed hard, my eyes darting to his broad, calloused hands. “I'm so sorry. I'll be good.”

  He actually smiled this time. “I know you will. Especially after your spanking.”

  Chapter 2

  Fear spread through my limbs, but it was having difficulty fighting the lethargy that the pleasure had left behind. He caught me by the hair and I found myself lifted to standing. He tugged, and I stepped out of the tub. For the first time, I noticed our surroundings. All manner of strange unrecognizable furniture lined the walls, most of them dripping with chains. Here and there were benches, and it was to one of these that he led me. Seating himself, I found myself bending to the side to relieve the ache in my scalp. My nipples felt like pebbles in the cool air, and the water running down my thighs mixed with my juices. I shivered.

  The other man spoke up. “Do you want a towel for her?”

  Jeffery snorted. “Wet skin stings more.” I shivered harder, my buttocks prickling in anticipation. He pulled me over his lap, the rough canvas of his overalls scraping my belly and the underside of my breasts.

  “Please, sir. I'll be so good. I promise.”

  His hand slid down the curve of my bottom, and I flinched. His voice was low and soothing. “Yes you will. Well spanked girls are good girls.”

  Dread settled into the pit of my stomach. My hands fidgeted on the rough concrete floor, and he stroked my wet hair, his fingers trailing along my spine to the top of my crease. His hand left my skin, and I tensed, anticipating the blow. When it fell, it was so much harder than I expected. My breath exploded out of my body with a cry. I suddenly realized just how gentle my father had been when Suzanna and I were spanked at home. The thought of losing my daddy combined with the pain, and I burst into tears.

  It didn't deter him. His hand rose again and crashed into my bottom. I sucked in breath, but it didn't help. My bottom was burning, stinging furiously and every spank just amplified the pain. Loud cracks echoed around the room, driving me to distraction. I struggled, but I found my hands pinned to the small of my back, my head dangling helplessly. I kicked until he tucked my legs under his, and then I just lay there, precariously folded over one knee, my tender bottom pinned and exposed for his punishment. I sobbed until snot dripped out my nose, my chest heaving with each shaky breath.

  Jeffery stopped, and I tried to stop crying. “Next time I give you an order, you obey it. Without hesitation, without question. Without biting me, and without throwing yourself into the river.” I nodded, desperate for the pain to stop. My bottom was on fire, surely I would be bruised for days. He slapped me sharply on the thigh, reminding me he couldn't see a nod.

  “The correct answer is, 'yes, sir'.”

  I nodded again, frantic. “Yes, sir! Yes, sir! I understand! I'll be good, I swear…” My voice trailed off in sobbing. He resumed my spanking, concentrating on my sweet spot and thighs now. I struggled against his hold, but it was unbreakable. His hand covered the width of my thigh in one spank, and I started hiccupping, choking on snot and tears as his fingers branded me. “Please...” Incoherent, I begged.

  The other man spoke up. “Jeffery. I think she's learned her lesson.”

  Jeffery paused, stroking my throbbing bottom. “Have you?” he demanded, slapping my bottom so very hard. “Have you learned your lesson?” Another slap to emphasize the question.

  “Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir...”

  “All right.” He put me on his lap and tucked me against his chest. The rough canvas chafed my raw bottom. His arms held me firmly, but not painfully. So I gave in, too exhausted and too chastened to struggle any more. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me.

  He patted my hair until I finally stopped sobbing, wiping my face with the faded gray cloth. His chest was warm and solid against my cheek, and for some unknown reason his scent comforted me. I lay still, my head tucked against the crook of his neck.

  I startled when I heard the door open, but it was just the other man exiting. Unreasoning fear rose in my belly – he'd been the one who'd suggested Jeffery stop my spanking. Would he start again, with the other man gone? My fear proved to be unfounded, however, as Jeffery soothed me, stroking my back and patting me until I relaxed against him.

  When we had been alone for a time, he spoke. I tried to raise my head to look at his face, but he tucked me back against his shoulder. I complied, feeling the rumble of his voice vibrate. “You belong to me, Nanette. You belong first to Roy, our governor, but I'm sure he'll let me keep you. So you belong to me. I will protect you, and cherish you, and give you pleasure, but in return, I require absolute obedience. Obedience to me, to Roy, and to anyone else he sets above you. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, remembering the question about throwing me back to the crocodiles. I would have to learn to be very obedient. His sharp slap to my thigh reminded me that I hadn't quite mastered even the basics yet. “Yes, sir! I understand.”

  “Good girl.”

  My breath caught, just a moment, at the unanticipated praise. He continued to stroke my back. “Devon will be back with a clean tub. You'll take just a dip, and then I'll show you where you'll stay.” Right on cue, the door opened and the other man returned, lugging another tub with the aid of a man I hadn't seen before. They set it down.

  The second man came towards us and caught my chin, examining my face. I blushed, closing my eyes under his scrutiny. “Stephanie was right. You are beautiful. May I?”

  Jeffery released me, and I stood on wobbling legs, following the direction of the hand on my chin. He walked partially around me and whistled, running a hand over my aching bottom. It felt cool in contrast to the heat radiating off my skin. “Not nearly as much as Stephanie gets, but then, she's a brat.”

  I shivered. Stephanie was spanked more severely? And she seemed to have such liberties... my heart sank. I wasn't sure what I'd be allowed to do. So I clung tight to the one thing I did know – for now, for as long as I pleased them enough to not sell me, I was in the same place Suzanna was.

  “Probably plenty for this girl, right, girl?”

  I nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

  He grinned, genuinely pleased. “A quick learner to boot. You've found yourself a good one, I think.”

  Jeffrey tugged me back down to his thigh and I squeaked at the flare of discomfort. “I think so.”

  They left with the dirty water. Jeffery lifted me easily, then deposited me in the fresh tub. The water felt warm and comforting on every part of me except one, and I shifted to my knees to keep my bottom from touching the hard surface. He noticed and reached into the water, squeezing my buttocks until I gasped, fresh tears leaking. When I was rinsed to his satisfaction, he lifted me out and wrapped me in a towel. The rough material sensitized my already oversensitive skin and I whimpered. Tucking me down on my knees, facing away from him, he took a comb and untangled the snarls until my hair was smooth. Somehow, the domestic gesture calmed me. He stood me up, taking the towel away to lie on the handle of the tub. The door opened again and Stephanie entered, her mouth set in an angry line. I flinched away from her blue eyes and Jeffrey wrapped his arms around me.

  “Behave yourself.”

  She humphed, and his voice sharped. “I mean it. I'll tell Tobin.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but did not answer, instead layin
g out the clothes that she'd brought. The dress was the same as hers, except blue instead of red, and I realized it was actually not a dress. It was just two strips of cloth, each more than the width of my body and nearly double my height. Each one was knotted in the middle. The knots were placed on my shoulders, the rest was draped around my body, two strips covering my back, and two strips covering my front, held in place by a chain Stephanie clipped around my waist. I gritted my teeth, determined not to whimper when the cloth brushed my tender bottom, but that wasn't good enough for her. She raked her nails across both cheeks and I squealed, jerking away from her. Jeffery caught me, his face dark with anger. He reached for her, but she skipped out of reach, laughing.

  Jeffery caught her eye and raised his voice. “Tobin! Your bitch is in need of some discipline.”

  The color drained from her face and she hissed at him. “It's my right to teach the new girl her place.”

  Jeffery's retort was sharp. “She knows her place. She just learned it over my knee. She was offering you no challenge.”

  I cowered against his chest, realizing that Stephanie was far the more dangerous than I'd originally thought.

  Tobin appeared in the doorway. She dropped to her knees, felled by the look on his face. He pointed to the floor at his feet, and she crawled to him. Once there, she knelt up, her whole body pleading with him. I couldn't hear if she spoke, but it wouldn't have mattered. His voice was cold and dismissive. “Room. Corner. Now.” She stood, throwing him one more pleading look, but he ignored her. She fled.

  Jeffery glared at Tobin. “It's a good thing Nanette already had the clothes on, or Stephanie could have cut her.” He lifted the fabric away from my bottom, showing Tobin the cat scratches smarting on my skin.

  Tobin leaned down for a closer look, frowning. He spoke to Jeffery. “I'll deal with her.” Then he turned to me. “You don't have to worry about retribution from her. She knows better.”

  I nodded, but I didn't believe him. He left.

  “Come.” Jeffery led me out of the bizarre room and into a hall with flat reed flooring that felt warmer and smoother on my bare feet. Many doors opened into this hallway, and I wondered what they were all for. We passed a staircase to the left, and then there was a large opening, the width of four doors, to our right. Inside was a big room with a big table and many chairs, and beyond that was a room that had to be the kitchen. A half wall separated the kitchen from the dining room, and you could see into it that there were two wood burning stoves against the far wall, a sink to one side, and a stout woman in the middle of it. Brandishing a wooden spoon, she dished out a sort of porridge or mash into bowls, tossing in handfuls of chopped fruit and nuts.

  “Jacqueline, make sure that doesn't burn!”

  “Yes, ma'am.” The woman in question stirred a big pot on the stove. She wore a similar dress to mine and Stephanie's, but green in color. Darting between the table and the top of the half wall where the stout woman placed the finished bowls was none other than my little sister. She wore a tunic dress, linen with long sleeves, closed and covering her body completely down to her ankles.

  I tried to break away from Jeffery, but he held me tucked against his side. “Suzanna!”

  She saw me and set the bowl on the table hastily before launching herself at me. Her arms wrapped tight around me and she trembled. “I was so scared. I heard crying this morning. That wasn't you, was it?”

  I patted her hair, smelling the same scented oil that had been in my bath. All was right with the world if she was okay. So I lied. “No, it wasn't me. How about you, are you okay?”

  She nodded, her head on my shoulder. She didn't seem to care about the thick arm between us, holding my waist tight.

  “They gave me a bath last night. And supper. And a comb. And clothes. And a bed. They have feather beds, did you know that?” She looked up, her eyes filled with concern, so I nodded, as if I'd slept on one too. She put her head back down, reassured. “But they woke me up at the crack of dawn to chop vegetables and fruit and stuff.”

  She stifled a yawn and I smiled. “You're doing so well. Thank you for helping out.”

  She peered at my face. “What's your job going to be?”

  I glanced at Jeffery, unsure. “I don't know. I think I'm going to find out soon.”

  He nodded.

  She finally focused on him, and skipped back a few steps in alarm. “Nanette, that's the man who caught you!”

  I nodded. “I know. But it's okay. He was just trying to protect us.” She stared at him, doubtful, taking in the possessive arm around my waist and my new clothing.

  “He didn't hurt you, did he Nanette?”

  I bit the inside of my lip. How to answer? “A little bit.”

  “When he slapped you, and when he dropped you in the boat.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “This morning?”

  “A little bit.”

  “It was you crying! Nanette, please don't, don't do this for me!”

  I reached for her, gathering her to me and shushing her. I had to soothe her fear quickly, or she might do something stupid that would get her hurt. I whispered in her ear, quiet and urgent. “He gave me a spanking. You remember, how Daddy spanked us when we fought with each other or did something stupid?”

  “But!”

  “Remember how you used to holler and kick up a fuss even when it didn't hurt that bad, just so he'd feel sorry for you and stop?”

  “Oh!”

  I pulled away from her and winked. She bit her lip, uncertain, her eyes darting from me to Jeffrey.

  “Besides. You're forgetting. He saved my life.”

  “You only wiggled because he hurt you to start with.” Her lip stuck out mutinously and her hip cocked, a perfect picture of a doubting teenager, loyal to the core. My heart wanted to burst, and I knew then that it didn't matter how many spankings I got, or how annoying she could be. If she was safe, it was worth it.

  “True. But he did save me from drowning. For that, I'm grateful.”

  She sighed and glared at him, but she wasn't protesting any more.

  The stout woman from the kitchen chose that moment to recapture my sister's attention. “Suzanna! Enough time wasting, get those bowls on the table!” I focused on her as my sister blanched and darted for the line of bowls on the counter.

  Jeffrey took me into the kitchen. “Lauren, this is Nanette.”

  “So? I'm busy. Get out of my way.”

  Jeffery stepped back as she grabbed another jar of nuts from the shelves covering one whole wall of the kitchen and tossed a handful on the counter, chopping them quicker than I could count them. “Last one, Suzanna. Then get back in here.”

  My sister returned and stood waiting for orders. Lauren gestured at the far corner where a stool was tucked. “Corner.” She went to it and sat down, watching the room. Lauren took the pot of porridge from Jacqueline, scraping the last of it out into the largest bowl on the counter. I saw four there, one covered in chopped nuts and fruit, and the others plain.

  “What do you like on your porridge?”

  I wasn't sure whom the question was directed at, so I remained quiet. She looked up, handing the pot to Jacqueline to wash, and focused on me. Her eyes were a startling shade of green. “You, girl. What do you like on your porridge?”

  “Anything is fine, ma'am.”

  “I have raisins. Currants, raspberries, apples, pears and blueberries. Pecans, walnuts and almonds. Dates. Carob. Carrots, onions and beets.”

  “Um. Raspberries and carob, if you please.”

  “Coming up.” She turned to my sister in the corner. “Girl! What do you want on your porridge?”

  “Pears and almonds, please, ma'am.”

  Lauren finished two of the smaller bowls, then tossed a heaping handful of a fruit mix onto the larger bowl, followed by a handful of mixed nuts. She handed one to me, one to Jacqueline, who had finished washing the pot and hung it up to dry. Then she snapped her fingers and my sister, who'd never b
een very obedient to start with, sprang up and trotted to her. Lauren handed her a bowl and pointed at a small table near the stool. “Eat.”

  Suzanna picked up her bowl, then glanced at the man still standing in the kitchen with me.

  “Shoo," the large woman said to Jeffery. "The governor will be down soon, and you can get it settled then. Until then, out!”

  He frowned at her, but left the kitchen, leaving me standing there with a bowl of porridge in my hands. It was hot and smelled strangely. I took another sniff. The raspberries and carob would be lovely, but I didn't recognize the porridge.

  “It's rice.”

  I looked up.

  “Wild and domesticated. Whatever they can harvest now.”

  “Oh. I... don't think I've eaten it before.”

  “Really? It's very popular here. Ever since the bombardment on the icecaps turned the planet to swamp, a lot more places can grow rice than before. This blend is very good. I've been getting it from the village nearby. Some of the best rice blenders in the business.” She took a bite, savoring it a moment before waving her spoon to emphasize the point. “And I would know. I've cooked in most of the big villages from here to the west coast.”

  I stared at her in awe. She had traveled across the whole of what used to be the United States of America? Before the – no one could agree if it was war, or terrorism, or a science experiment gone wrong, but they could all agree it was something that catastrophically leveled a few mountains into the ocean and melted the ice caps – bombardment, most people called it. They were probably right. All of the major cities were gone. Some were victims of the bombardment itself. Some were victims of the flooding and the tsunamis. So all the people who used to run the governments were gone. Most people didn't know – couldn't know – what had really happened. Some kind of wave had knocked out all the fancy machinery, also. It was still around. Some of the old people had parents that had remembered how to use it, how to harness the lightning. It was just amusements now – no one had the resources to build another power plant, to put lines in – and what lines were still in existence weren't safe, or so they said. Too much water, too many cut ends where people scavenged the copper. The lightning would skip across the water at every break in the wire, and kill everything it touched. Too risky. But I didn't worry about it. Learning to fish, learning to survive in this world as a girl was difficult enough without worrying about lights that could burn without flame or magic boxes that showed stories.