by Cerise Noble
“Stephanie...” Tobin's voice held a warning note that she completely ignored. One foot shifted forward, and then she slapped me, full across the face, sending me sprawling. I looked up from the floor, shocked, as she leaned over and spit venom.
“No! There's nothing at all you can get for him. Nothing at all you can get for any of us. You didn't know her. You didn't care. You're nothing. You're just a worthless, miserable bit of slave that was good for nothing more than warming Jeffery's bed for a few nights. I bet he's forgotten all about you in his nights with the whores in the village!” Her voice had risen as she spoke, and by the end she was struggling furiously in Tobin's iron grip. Roy looked up, his eyes full of anger.
“How dare you speak to her that way. Nanette has been nothing but kind and well behaved. Unlike some little bitches I know.” He stood up to his full height, something I hadn't seen him do since Jessica passed. Her eyes got big and her struggling ceased immediately.
“Please. My lord. Please. Have mercy.”
He ignored her, helping me up instead. “Nanette, go to the kitchen and let Lauren have a look at that.”
I whimpered, feeling wet on my cheek. He dropped a kiss on my head along with a hug.
“You're a good girl. It's not your fault you didn't know Jessica better. You've proven yourself to be a valuable asset to this house.”
I nodded, eyes filled with tears, and he turned me with a gentle shove towards the kitchen. He grabbed Stephanie's hair and shoved her forward until she stumbled, landing on her knees on the hard floor. A quick glance over her shoulder abruptly let me know she was concerned for me.
“Please!”
He thundered at her. “GO!” She scrambled forward in the direction of the dungeon. Tobin followed, and Roy after. I hid in the kitchen, shaking. Lauren was already there with clean cloths and antiseptic.
“You'll be fine. It's not a big cut.”
I flinched at the stinging dab.
“She did it on purpose.”
Lauren looked up. “You caught that? Yes, she did.”
“Why? Why would she want to make him so angry?”
“She wanted to pull him out of his misery. Anger goads him into motion. Whipping her will give him a chance to clear his thoughts, to work out some of the dark emotions he has. It will remind him he has a duty to her and the rest of his people.”
“But she sounded really scared.”
Lauren snorted. “If she wasn't afraid she'd be stupid. She's getting a very harsh punishment right now.” As if on cue, a wailing scream came from the dungeon. “She earned it. Roy doesn't punish without cause – so she had to earn it. And if she did, well, she'll take it.”
A grudging admiration found room in my heart for her. I couldn't behave like she did – not in a thousand years – but I admired her determination to help her master, no matter what the cost to her own skin. The screams continued and I shivered. “He won't – won't harm her, will he?”
“No. Tobin is there, too – Tobin loves her more than anything in this world, just like Roy loved Jessica. Roy loves Stephanie, too. They've been together a very long time – Roy knows what he's doing. He won't harm her.”
I nodded, not completely convinced.
Lauren sat down, heaving a sigh. “You still up to helping me today?”
“Of course.” I took a deep breath, putting Stephanie's words behind me. It helped, knowing that they were a deliberate provocation, meant to trigger the greatest anger she could, but it ate at me, not knowing when Jeffery was going to be back, or if he really had that little concern for me. I didn't think it was true. I hoped it wasn't true. Not when I was starting to care for him.
The day passed slowly. I'd become accustomed to working with Lauren, but hadn't realized quite how much she did on her own until I tried to do it. All the while, I scolded and nagged, making sure she rested and relaxed as much as she could. I needed this House to stay stable, both for my own well being and Suzanna's, and for the rest of the people who belonged to Roy.
After supper, I tucked Lauren into bed and promised to finish cleaning the kitchen myself. It wore on me, scrubbing and wiping and putting everything away when I was already past exhaustion. Finally it was over. I turned to see Devon watching me in the gloom.
“Yes, sir?"
“Come to bed, Nanette.”
I followed him down the hall. In the room, he had a tub ready. “Get in.”
I obeyed. “Thank you, sir.”
He took the cloth and washed me, his hard hands digging into the sore muscles of my back and shoulders. It hurt, but it also rubbed out the tension.
“Roy told me what Stephanie said.”
I flushed and looked down.
“He also told me what you did this morning, how you've been helping Lauren all day.”
I glanced up. He'd noticed all that? “Sir?”
“I don't know if my brother loves you yet, or if he ever will. But know that you are valuable, and appreciated here. Know that I am grateful you stumbled across our net with Suzanna.”
I looked up at him, and saw a measure of care in his eyes he hadn't let me see before. Gently, he leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose, smiling as he drew back. I watched him, my heart stirring with unaccustomed emotions. He finished my bath, then washed himself quickly while I dried. In bed, he tucked me against his chest, his lips against my hair.
“Sleep, little slave.”
Chapter 10
I woke at dawn. Devon was gone. I pulled on a clean dress and slipped quickly down the hall to the front door. There he was, walking towards the pier – and there was a great boat pulling in. My heart burst at the sight of Jeffery, standing tall and broad in the middle. Without thinking, I ran towards him.
The grass was prickly under feet softened by weeks of smooth floors, the dress flying about my legs immodestly. I stopped short, skidding a little on the wet boards of the long pier when I caught sight of his face. He knew. He knew already – of course he did. We were still wearing white – he would have known as soon as he came close, as soon as he saw Devon. His face was dark, and he didn't acknowledge me or his brother, merely continued giving orders for the docking. When the boat was secured, and the unloading had begun – it looked like the House traded brined fish for what staples we couldn't grow or make ourselves – he jumped down. Embracing his brother in a fierce hug, they pounded each other's backs, and then I saw tears. Both of them were crying, no shame, merely two men mourning the loss of a beloved woman. I stood awkward, skittering back out of the way of the other men when they needed the room to continue unloading. Jeffery had a new mark on his arm, a stylistic woman's profile with what looked like a name written on it. I bit my lip. If I had to guess, it was Jessica's name.
Swallowing hard, all of Stephanie's angry words came back in my head. Maybe he hadn't spent the week with whores. Maybe he had spent it mourning his lover. Maybe I really was nothing but a pale substitute for her luminescence. I turned away, starting to run – down the shore, away from the house.
I stumbled, slipping down the incline until I was knee-deep in the water, scrambling for purchase, and then a hard grip caught my arm, hauling me up. Jeffery's eyes searched my own.
“Are you trying to escape?”
I shook my head frantically, off balance in his grasp. He shook me.
“Do you want to be crocodile bait? What the hell were you running that close to the edge for?”
“I'm sorry!”
He shook me again. “You will be.” His voice was grim and I struggled, twisting as he marched me up to the house, back in through the door.
“Please! Jeffery! I'll be good! I wasn't trying to run away, honest! I wasn't trying to go in the water! Really! Please!”
“You'll be even better once you get a hard spanking, little slave.”
I whimpered, stumbling along beside him as he led me down the hall, into the dungeon. “Tobin?” No answer. I looked past him, and Stephanie was chained to one of the long benches, f
ace down, her naked body covered in crimson welts from her shoulders to her calves. I bit back a cry of dismay. She seemed to be sleeping. He ignored her then, and shoved me over one of the strange benches. Tucking my knees onto the smaller cushion, he chained them down and I cried out.
“Please! Please! Please! I'm sorry!”
“You'll be more sorry in a minute.”
I slapped at his hands when he tried to chain my forearms, but he smacked my hands and chained them anyway, my elbows resting on the small cushion on the other side, my hips pressed into the bigger middle cushion.
Standing in front of me he grasped the knots of fabric on my shoulders and jerked, the wet fabric scraping over my nipples as it came off. I cried out, my breasts flopping loose past the edge of the cushion. He stalked around behind me.
“No wonder you're such a naughty slave today. My brother hasn't disciplined you at all.” His hand caressed my bare bottom roughly, prodding and squeezing as he determined I hadn't been really spanked since he'd left.
I tried one more time. “That's because I've been good!”
He growled. “Just because you've been good for a few days doesn't mean you don't need your ass walloped now.” The words sent a spike of fear and arousal through my chest that settled down along my belly and my cunt. I gasped.
“No, please, Jeffery!”
Silence. I realized my mistake. “I'm sorry! Sir! Please, sir!” The first splat of his hand on my ass astounded me. The next, and the next and the next, fast and furious, built up until I sucked in air and wailed. He pressed a hand into the small of my back, putting pressure on the chain belt. I whimpered, then wailed again as his hand cracked down the backs of my thighs. Drumming my shins frantically, I tried to escape, to reposition, to do anything other than present my body for his punishment.
“Defiance? I can definitely see you need a hard spanking.”
“No, sir, please!”
“Yes, little slave. You need to be kept sore, to remember who your master is.”
“Please, sir!”
“You don't run away from me. Not ever, Nanette.”
“No, sir, I won't, I won't, never again!”
“I expect you won't.” His hand slapped down on my upturned bottom, burning my skin. He started at the top of my crack, spanking hard and fast until I was frantic. When he was satisfied that my skin was on fire, his hand shifted down and he continued spanking, his calloused fingers raising welts. I felt tears splash down on my arms and I tossed my head, struggling for air, but it was no use. I was bound down securely. The padded top pressed my belly so I couldn't wiggle forward – the only direction I could possibly move was backwards, towards his punishing hand. And I absolutely did not want to do that.
His hand shifted lower, cracking down again and again across the fullest part of my bottom. My cries dissolved into one drawn out wail, and I shuddered, the heat branding my bottom. I wondered if I would be able to sit down ever again. I wondered if he was going to spank me until he wore himself out, and if my ass would give out before then. I wondered what Stephanie thought of my punishment, and if it pleased her. I wondered why Jeffery was so angry with me.
His hand shifted lower, and suddenly it was branding my sweet spot, the tender crease between buttock and thigh. I howled. After a long time, when I had completely lost track of the number of spanks he applied, he stopped. I gasped in relief, my breath hitching with sobs.
“You are going to stay with me, aren't you, Nanette?”
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir!”
“You will be careful, and not risk yourself on the shore, won't you?”
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir!”
He spanked my sweet spot again, his hand reinforcing his words. “You'll be a good little slave, with your bottom sore, won't you?”
It was difficult to answer around my tears, but I managed. “Y-yes, s-sir! Y-y-yes, s-s-sir!”
“Good girl, Nanette. Good little slave.”
I finally gave in, my body limp over the padded bench, unable to resist his harsh discipline. His spanking hand shifted to my thighs, and I struggled, but the flare of defiance was short-lived. I moaned, tears flowing freely, snot dripping from my nose, as he burned my thighs crimson.
I lost track of anything except pain. Time seemed suspended, a sort of not quite there space where I reacted to each explosion of pain, but had no thoughts beyond it. All I wanted was to submit to Jeffery, to obey him, to please him.
My body reacted. Burning heat wrapped itself inside my core, and I ripened, aching for his ungentle tenderness. My thighs spread as far as possible in the chains, opening my naked body to his view. I pressed back towards his harsh hand, begging for his discipline.
“Please. Sir. Please.” I didn't understand why my voice was soft, or why I wasn't asking him to stop anymore. I just knew I belonged to him, more than any other person in the world, and I wanted him to know I understood. “Please.”
His hand stilled, and he stroked my welted skin. “You are a good girl, aren't you, Nanette?”
“Yes. Sir.” My voice was low, crooning the answers.
“You belong to me, don't you?”
“Yes. Sir.”
“You are my slave.”
“Yes. Sir.”
“Good.” His hands, when they unfastened the chains, were exceptionally gentle. I stayed where I was, tears dripping on my chain-marked forearms. He lifted me to stand, and I slid down to my knees, my head falling back as I tried to look up at him.
“Sir.”
He caressed my face, and then lifted me again, carrying me to his room. He laid me on the bed, and I cried out at the touch of the sheets on my backside. He spread my thighs, and let my legs fall apart, limp.
“Yes.”
He removed his clothes, and I watched him, admiring the sheen of sweat across his hard chest, the play of his muscles under his tanned skin. I moaned with pleasure as his cock sprang free of his pants and he knelt on the bed between my thighs.
“Please.” My murmur was almost a prayer.
“Such a good little slave.” He slipped his cock inside my cunt for the first time, sliding in deep until I was completely filled.
“Yes!” I arched my hips against him, wanting more, always more. He leaned on his elbows, and his lips brushed mine. I ached for him. My whole body throbbed with want. He brushed my lips again, and then crushed them beneath his, biting and thrusting with his tongue until I had no other thoughts beyond overwhelming joy. I kissed him back, my own tongue dueling with his, my hands tangling in his hair of their own accord. He thrust his hips against mine. I moaned, my whole body opening up to him, vulnerable.
I wrapped my legs around his hips, and he released my mouth long enough to grin that cruel grin at me. “Keep your legs there, or I'll spank your tits, too.”
I tried. I really did. But his fucking was harsh and wild, and eventually I lost my grip on his hips. He knelt up, and I moaned, desiring and terrified. His hands were gentler on my breasts than my buttocks, but they still stung fiercely. He spanked the sides of my breasts, causing them to flop together. When my hands got in the way he tucked them behind my head, nipping my ear as he did so. His hands came down on the top of my tits, then he spanked the inner sides. All the while, his cock was buried inside me, reminding me to whom I belonged.
Finally, he grasped a nipple and lifted it, spanking the underside of my tit so hard I squirmed and cried, the throbbing pain sending lightning bolts to my clit. I groaned, arching my back up towards his hands. He obliged, grasping my other nipple and spanking hard on the underside of that tit. When he was satisfied with the burn in my ample flesh, he began to spank my nipples. I wailed, my hands in the way again. He leaned in, his voice harsh in my ear. “Grab my shoulders, and hold on. If you block my hands again, I'll spank them twice as much.”
I whimpered, nodding, and wrapped my hands around his shoulders. He continued to spank my nipples, the hard buds radiating pain.
When he was satisfied with the color of
my well-punished tits, he leaned down and pressed them together, sucking the tips into his mouth. I screamed again, this time in pleasure. His pelvis slammed into mine and I wrapped my legs around him again, then hung on as I was tossed against the bed like a boat on a stormy sea. The waves that crashed into my body flipped me under until I was drowned in pleasure. He didn't stop fucking me, only increased the intensity. His lips found mine again, and I screamed when I came. He continued, driving me off the cliff another two times before he orgasmed inside me.
I lay limp, completely worn out. He pressed little kisses down the side of my jaw, the side of my neck, his tongue flicking the padlock. I moaned softly, content to lay under him forever.
When I came to again his weight was still pinning me to the bed, and I hummed under my breath. His deep breathing fanned across my neck and his arms were relaxed, holding me close. My hips ached with being forced so wide for so long, so I wiggled under him. He didn't move. I wiggled some more, but he was a lead weight. I shifted over and pressed my lips to his, pleased to see his eyes flutter open. I smiled at him.
“Good little slave.” He kissed me then, bruising my lips until I moaned. He shifted, lifting off me and flipping me over. He tucked my knees together, raising my throbbing ass high and shoving my face down. “Spread your ass cheeks for me.” I flushed red, then reached back and did as he said, giving him access to my bottom hole. He dipped fingers into my sopping cunt and painted my crack, then pressed the blunt head of his cock against it. “Relax, little slave.”
I concentrated on opening my tight hole, and his thick cock slipped in. I gasped, clenching at the still unfamiliar sensation. He slid out, and then slammed deep inside. I moaned, the sensations increasing with each thrust until I was a mewling bundle of aching needs. His hips banged my sore bottom, his hairy legs tormenting my welted thighs. That spot inside that brought me the greatest pleasure was rubbed with every thrust, and I began to cry out. His hands on my hips steadied me, grounded me, even as he pounded my ass until I lost myself in spasms of pleasure. His seed erupted, burning me from the inside with each hot spurt.