“I do recall a beautiful lady, very pretty with curly yellow ‘air.” he said. “As the sun was going down, she was ‘eading this way. As I watched, a carriage came thunderin’ down the street. It looked like somethin’ out of ‘ades it did, four black ‘orses and the driver wearing a mask and a black ‘ooded cape. It pulled up right next to the lass, as if it were the grim reaper ‘imself, come to take her away. The door opened and quick as a wink she was pulled inside, she was. And off they went, quick as they come.” The boy said, dramatically waving his hands about in the air as he described what he’d seen.
“Did you see who grabbed her?” Archie asked, horrified. This was all his fault! Perhaps if he’d gone downstairs when Mrs. Marsh first expressed concern, he’d have been able to prevent the abduction.
“No sir, just a gentleman’s arm reachin’ out of the carriage. I didna’ see ‘is face.”
“What about the carriage or the horses, do you recall anything about them, any small detail?”
“No sir, a black carriage that looked like it had been sent by Death ‘imself and black ‘orses, nothin’ odd except there were four ‘orses instead of the usual two. Sorry I can’t be of more ‘elp,” he said, rising to his feet and hobbling off down the street, muttering to himself. “A beautiful lady, she was, pretty as a picture. Poor little miss, taken by the grim reaper ‘imself,” he mumbled shaking his head back and forth until he limped off into the same mist that had swallowed up Marjorie.
Mrs. Marsh came to the door, “Archie dear, come back inside. I dare say Miss Marjorie isn’t coming.”
“Mrs. Marsh, she’s been abducted! I must go to the authorities straight away.”
“Whatever are you talking about, dear boy?” she asked as she watched him running down the street in his long white lab coat, wearing no hat or overcoat. “Come back, you’ll catch your death!’ she called after him, watching until he too had disappeared into the fog.
Chapter Four
Professor Pretzer alighted from the carriage and stood on the dock, admiring the Felicitous Fortune in the dark. Its lights were twinkling as it majestically occupied its berth at the Royal Docks. Even among the other royal yachts it stood out, the sheer size of it was awe inspiring. Katrinka was certain that Noah’s Ark had nothing on the Felicitous Fortune. She was sure this ship was every bit as large as that biblical vessel. It seemed to have an unusual number of masts which appeared to double as windmills, giving credence to the rumor that it could achieve air flight if necessary. She knew that most of the opulence lay below deck, from above it looked similar to any other large vessel. Reginald had told her that it carried a number of flags of different countries and the name of the vessel could be changed by pressing buttons that made the letters change into other letters. That way the ship could sail in any waters with impunity. Her old friend Stefan Cavendish was a man who did not like to have his options limited.
She clomped up the gangplank and was greeted by the captain. One glance at the man and she knew that he was more aware of what they were up to than she had originally been led to believe. His look of complicity and lack of surprise at seeing the bionic woman before him told her much. He took her metal hand and shook it.
“Nanny Trinka! Welcome aboard, Madame,” he said, with a bow and a click of his heels. “I understand that Lord Stefan and his young ward will be joining us within the hour.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m here to unpack and arrange the items that will be needed for the care of the young lady. If you will show me to our rooms…” Before she could finish her sentence, Captain Andersson was taking her valise and carpet bag from her and handing them to a sailor. He snapped his fingers and several other sailors went down the gangplank and brought up her trunks which the driver had unloaded at the dock. He led her to her cabin.
“This is your room, Madame” he said, showing her around the lavish cabin that had been set aside as her personal retreat.
“Yes, I should be quite comfortable here,” she said, looking around. “Now please show me to little Margie’s room,” she ordered, using the nickname that Stefan had come up with for Lady Hamilton.
“The nursery is right this way,” he said. He took her down a floor and into the largest cabin she’d ever seen. It had a large crib, changing table, rocking chair and shelves filled with toys and books. It was a bright and cheerful place. “And how old is the little girl?” the captain was asking. The room appeared aimed for a child of the age of six or so. For some reason he had thought that the girl was a bit older than that.
Katrinka looked at him sharply. “That is not something that you need concern yourself with, my good man.” She instantly regretted snapping at him, but the man had to learn his place. The less he knew about their little miss, the better off he would be. Before the captain could respond, the sailors were bringing in the trunks.
“Take that one to my room and bring the rest in here. Set that one by the changing table,” she said, ordering the young men about.
“None of them speak English, Madame,” the captain said. He translated her orders into Dutch. Katrinka knew passable Dutch but decided to keep that knowledge to herself for the time being.
“Which languages do the crew speak?” she asked, thinking it was very clever of Stefan to have a non-English speaking crew.
“Most of them are Norwegian and a few speak French. We have no Germans,” he said, in reference to her accent. “What languages do you speak, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
“Deutsch und Englisch,” she replied in her heaviest German accent.
“Lord Stefan and I will have to serve as translators then, I know German well.” He smiled. “I am at your service at anytime.”
Katrinka smiled slowly at the captain, some were drawn to the dominatrix persona she presented, others were repelled. Captain Andersson seemed to be one of the former. She looked him up and down, he was tall and blond, about forty years of age with a handsome, angular face. She smiled, envisioning having him under her control, ordering him about as he serviced her sexually. She quickly brought herself back under control. She would have plenty of stimulation seeing to the young lady and little time for dalliances. She showed him to the door and then returned to her chores.
Katrinka began to smirk as she unpacked the boxes that had been sent to the ship. Stefan seemed to have thought of everything a nanny could possibly need. She laughed out loud at the thermometers and clysters, baby bottles and cloth diapers. She couldn’t wait to see the little miss’s face as these items were produced to be used on her. The seamstress had done an excellent job on ‘Margie’s’ little dresses. Most of them were sailor suits, with little collared flaps in the back, white trimmed with blue, a big blue bow in front would cover the young lady’s ample assets. There were tights and leggings, ruffled drawers and socks with matching ruffles. There were patent leather slippers and even big circular lollypops for the little one to be given as a special treat.
For the first time, Katrinka thought about what Archibald would do when his fiancée went missing. She wondered how long it would take him to notice that Lady Marjorie was no longer around. She presumed that he would be shocked at first but would quickly get back to work on his inventions and hopefully, the fiancée he had briefly had would soon be forgotten. But what if he really had fallen in love with the young woman?
She shrugged, it was too late now to reconsider, the deed was done. Marjorie was undoubtedly already under Stefan’s control. Even now their carriage would be on its way to the waterfront to bring the young lady aboard under cover of darkness. She checked her pocket watch, everything was put away and the time was close. She had to get up on deck to warn the captain of the condition the young lady would be arriving in. She quickly donned her nanny uniform, arranged her straight brown hair back into a bun and headed up the steps, wrapping her cloak around her.
As soon as she appeared on deck, the captain was instantly at her side. Clearly he found her to be a strong magnetic attraction. People wer
e either drawn to or repelled by her, there was no in between.
“Have you found everything to your liking, Nanny Trinka?” he asked.
“Quite nice, quite nice, Captain. I am looking forward to this voyage. Are you expecting any challenges?”
“Everything seems clear, Madame, calm seas expected. It is an ideal time of year for a voyage. What brings you up on deck?”
“Lord Stefan and his ward should be arriving momentarily. The young lady has been traveling from school for this voyage. She will either be exhausted or possibly even sound asleep, it is well past her bedtime.”
“Will you need help transporting her from the carriage to the nursery?”
“Nein, mein capitan, just a clear path.”
As they spoke, she could see the horses emerging from the fog. She walked down the gangplank, meeting the carriage as it came to a stop. She pulled open the door. Lady Hamilton was indeed unconscious, having been injected with a tranquilizer upon capture. Lord Cavendish emerged first and together they gathered up their prize, wrapping her in Nanny Trinka’s cloak, safe from prying eyes. She walked along next to Stefan in case he needed help but he seemed to be carrying Miss Marjorie with little effort. She led him down the stairs and into the nursery where he carefully deposited her into the adult-sized crib.
“She should sleep through the night, regaining consciousness in the morning, according to my physician.“ Stefan said, watching her chest rise and fall rhythmically.
“Very good, Stefan. Did anyone see you pull her into the carriage?
“Street people, punks, unreliable sources all. Noone of note.”
“Did she see your face?”
“No, I remained masked until the sedative took effect. She fought like a little tigress, though. She scratched me, see!” he said, holding out his arm.
Katrinka shook her head, the little miss had put up a good struggle, by the looks of the claw marks on Stefan’s arm.
Stefan stood over Marjorie looking down upon her, a curiously tender expression on his face, one that Katrinka had never seen before. Even as a student, he had been formidable and critical, not a soft or gentle young man at all.
“Help me get her undressed. Remove her cloak,” Katrinka began barking orders as she bent to undo Marjorie’s boots. Now was not the time for regrets, it was too late for that. Stefan looked up at her and then down again. He bent to his task, removing the cloak and then her bonnet. Her hair came loose and tumbled into his hands. It was much longer and thicker than he’d expected. He helped Katrinka remove her bodice, skirt and corset and then wrest off her petticoats, boots and leggings until she was left only in her chemise and drawers. She gathered up the womanly items and shoved them into his hands.
“Take these and have them laundered and then hide them away. I don’t want her to have any adult choices. Not until we decide she’s ready to go back to her grownup self again.”
“Yes, of course,” Stefan murmured. He looked reluctant to leave. The young woman looked quite vulnerable lying there, and startlingly beautiful. Her hair was curling about her shoulders, her drawers visible below her chemise. Suddenly the realization of what he’d done slammed into him full force. He had removed her from her life without her consent. For the first time, he questioned his actions and began to experience tremendous guilt.
“It is better this way, Stefan.” Katrinka reassured him, seeing his hesitation. “She would have quickly grown bored and unhappy with young Archibald. She will have a much more interesting life keeping company with you. She strikes me as quite the adventuress, not someone who would be happy keeping house for a husband who does nothing but work.” This observation rang true and it seemed to make Stefan feel better. He straightened and flashed the professor a smile.
“It’s true, you know. She will be much happier with me,” he promised. Professor Pretzer wasn’t sure if Stefan was promising her or himself. He turned and walked towards the door and then turned back for one last look.
“Stay away now until I say. I mean it, my boy. First, she has to get used to me and then we will show her who her new master is,” Katrinka called after him.
Stefan gave a nod and left. He strode up on deck to watch the launch. He walked over to hold on to the rail, watching the yacht be led down the Thames by the tugboats leading them towards the open sea. He breathed deeply of the misty, cool air, suddenly the enormity of what he was doing struck him and his knees almost buckled. What was happening to him? He had pulled Marjorie into the cab, taken her in his arms and injected her with the tranquilizer as planned. As she’d stopped struggling and become limp in his arms, a feeling of protectiveness had swept over him. It was unexpected and quite overwhelming. In the morning, she would awaken and find herself in a unknown place in the hands of a strange, frightening woman. When she finally saw him and realized it was he who had captured her, what would she do? What would her reaction be? He had to pull himself together and be prepared to once more take control.
Katrinka stripped Marjorie naked and was taken aback at her glorious physique. The young women’s breasts were full and round with little pink nipples, most beautiful. She had an hourglass shape and a peaches and cream complexion, a true English rose. She redressed her in a short little night lawn which resembled one that might be put on a two year old. She pulled Marjorie’s hair up into two high tails on each side of her head and then braided them into plaits. She realized that Lady Hamilton actually had makeup on – the young harlot! It was very subtle, but her cheeks were definitely rouged and her lips stained. She scrubbed it off with a wash cloth.
“Very good, little one,” she murmured. “Now you are officially little Miss Margie. And you have quite a surprise waiting for you when you awaken.”
Katrinka sat in a rocking chair next to the crib. She intended to stay close and remain alert this first night in case there were any concerning changes in Margie’s breathing or if the young lady should awaken unexpectedly.
The next morning Marjorie woke just as the sun was coming in through the portholes. She sat up in the crib and looked around the room. She felt a bit hung over and had a metallic taste in her mouth. She appeared to be in a cabin aboard a boat. How did she get there? She groaned and laid back down carefully.
The last thing she remembered was almost getting run over by a carriage speeding down the city streets. She had been on her way to, for a moment she could not recall where and then it came to her, to Archie’s for dinner! She moaned as she remembered it all, the carriage coming to a stop, looking inside the window and seeing a masked man. She had frozen in fright as he’d opened the door and pulled her inside. She should have resisted harder but it had all happened so suddenly. The next thing she knew, the man had grabbed hold of her arm and then a pinch, she’d been stuck with something through the sleeve of her jacket. She had tried to get away, to open the carriage door but she’d become suddenly so overcome with exhaustion that she’d lost consciousness.
She looked down the length of her body. Her clothing had been removed, she was wearing a tiny little night lawn and nothing else. Who had done this? How had she ended up on a boat? Where was she being taken?
She heard a sound, a clanking and then a soft whirring, the clinking of metal against metal. Fearfully she sat up again, which made her head pound, and peeked over the edge of the rails surrounding her bed. The sight that met her eyes made her throat constrict with horror.
A woman was coming towards her, a beautiful woman wearing a classic nanny’s uniform, a long black dress covered with a white apron. What frightened her so was that one of the woman’s arms and one of her legs appeared to be made of metal, like the metal plate that seemed to have taken over part of her face. As she watched, a lens appeared to protrude from the woman’s face plate where her right eye should be and it began to spin in her face. Marjorie lifted her hand to her mouth, stifling a scream. She began to feel light-headed, as if she might lose consciousness again.
“There, there, little Miss Margie, take it
easy,” the frightening apparition said as it approached her bed. Margie almost passed out from fright, the creature was speaking to her.
“I’m sure I’m quite a shocking sight to you, but you have no need to fear,” the woman said handing Marjorie a cup of tea. This action was so unexpected that Marjorie just stared stupidly at the cup and saucer in her hand.
“Well, drink it up child, it appears you have a headache. This tea will help you feel much better, I promise. That’s it, drink it all down.”
Margie did have a headache and she felt a bit nauseous as well. She was terribly thirsty and sniffed the tea then sipped it carefully. It tasted like Earl Grey and was very satisfying so she drank the beverage down quickly. Almost instantaneously she began to feel better.
“I will never lie to you, Margie. I am your caretaker, Nanny Trinka and you are my charge, little Miss Margie. Your master has entrusted your care to me. The sooner that you learn to obey me, the easier things will go for you.”
Marjorie finished her tea/medicine and handed the cup and saucer back to the mechanical woman. She held on to the side of the crib, still feeling a bit weak and lightheaded. Quickly her headache began to lessen until it cleared completely. She sat back and blinked at the woman, who had called herself ‘Nanny Trinka.’
“Trinka, how did I get here? Who are you? Are we on a boat? Where are we going?”
“My, my, so many questions from such a little girl. You will address me correctly, little one. I am Nanny Trinka.”
“I am not a little girl. I am a grown twenty-two year old woman. Now help me out of this box.”
“That is not a box, Margie. It is your crib. Your master decided that you are going to be his little girl and therefore that is exactly how you shall be treated.”
“M-my master?” Margie replied, her voice rising in panic. “I have no master. I have a fiancé, though and I demand to be returned to him at once.”
“Oh dear, I was afraid of this. I could tell with one look that you’d be a naughty one. And what happens to naughty little girls who don’t obey their nannies?” Katrinka asked, watching Marjorie closely.
The Science of Submission Page 4