Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Kicking and wriggling when you’re being taken to the brig for the crime of stowing away is not acceptable,” the captain lectures me. “You’re a criminal. You’ve committed a…”
“Crime,” I say, finishing his sentence. I know it will annoy him, but I am pretty annoyed myself.
At this point, the captain takes a paddle down from the wall. I didn’t notice it was there. I certainly didn’t notice the sign above it that reads very simply: Ship’s Discipline.
“Hold her over the table,” the captain says. “I think a little old-fashioned discipline is in order for this old-fashioned crime.”
Oh, no. Oh, absolutely fucking not.
“If you were on a traditional vessel, this would be a cat of nine tails. You’d be half-flayed for the nerve of creeping aboard and taking passage you weren’t entitled to,” Captain Hakon says. “As it is, you can go to the brig sore, and having learned a lesson about lashing out when corrected.
“How old is she?” he asks Thor, not me. Why talk to me. It’s not like I’m right here and have access to information like that.
“Twenty, I believe, sir,” Thor says.
Sure, we can go with that.
“An insolent pup, one who can learn a few lessons,” the captain says. He’s older than my father would have been if he were still alive.
“I’m fucking Selene Weltheim. Don’t you dare put your hands on me.”
“Ivar Weltheim’s pup,” the captain grunts. “Got his sense of self-preservation too.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I curse, immediately enraged by the reference to my father’s passing. There are those who say it was an accident. And there are others who insist it was nothing of the kind. The powers that be declared it the former and anyone who said it was the latter had not a leg to stand on.
I hate thinking about what happened to my dad. My father was one of the founders of the city, but he refused to become a rich man. He stood in the way of progress, and he taught me to be an obstacle whenever I could be as well. That’s one of the reasons why selling the land belonging to our family was such a betrayal. He would have wanted us to keep it for future generations.
While I’m thinking about that, I’m getting pinned down over the captain’s desk. Thor holds my upper body down, while the big man takes a hefty swing and lands the paddle against both of my cheeks with a loud clap that results in an immediate ache and sting. I wail immediately, and not just because I know they want to hear that sound, because they are big men who feel insulted and the only way to make themselves feel better is to hurt me.
Another stroke lands, right over the other one. I gasp and shriek and utter some curse words and try to get up, but of course I cannot escape Thor’s grasp. He is far too strong and powerful.
A third follows, and my feet start to drum against the floor. Pain hits different depending on context, I’m learning. I don’t know that I have ever actually been straight up disciplined before. I hope it never fucking happens again.
“Take those underwear down,” the captain says. “I’ll give our little guest the last three on the bare.”
“No!”
But yes, they come down, and my sore, punished ass is bared to this stern stranger who is allowed to do with me as he pleases. On a ship, a captain may as well be a god. There’s nothing he can’t do.
I have fucked up so much more than I intended to fuck up.
The next three strokes all land with brutal precision. Each of them hurts more than the last, and by the time they are finished landing, my ass feels like it is swollen to twice its size and burning like a volcano.
“Pull your underwear up,” the captain orders. “And when you go to the brig, think about how you’re going to conduct yourself as a prisoner, because I can promise you right now, there’s more where that came from. I don’t get to use the paddle much these days. Having a prisoner who deserves to be punished will be the closest thing to fun I allow myself to have on this ship.”
I whisper a silent prayer to whatever gods might lurk in deep space, and I pull my underwear up over my blazing ass.
“She should be covered through the halls, sir?” Thor says.
“Is that a statement or a question, Officer?”
“For decorum and modesty.”
“Those things are for members of the crew. This is not a member of the crew. This is a stowaway. Stowaways have no rights. They are not entitled to anything.”
Thor hesitates.
I can see by his face he did not expect this to be quite that bad. He thought I’d be dealt with in a professional manner, not laid into by a mad deep space captain who truly does not answer to anybody. We are so far from any concept of real law right now. Thor has not brought me to justice.