A Gentlemen's Agreement (14 page)

She knew them, but no one felt
like speaking. They just wanted to get on with the evening as quickly as
possible.

When they passed her inspection, she
led them into the pitch-black billiard room and watched while they found their
way into the crowd. Then she stepped back into the tunnel and shed her
catsuit
. She clipped a pink light to her own collar.

Naked, Irene reentered the
billiard room. She stood at the front and looked for one special light –
the only red one. She didn’t see it. She wasn’t surprised, but she was annoyed.

She slowly walked around the
perimeter of the room, keeping one hand brushing against the wall while she
shuffled her feet to make sure that she didn’t step on anyone.

When she made it all the way
around the room and was, once again, at the open door to the kennels, she
paused and thought for a minute. It was unlikely that Nickel would dare return
to the kennel this time. If she were caught in her cell, ditching the second
entertainment in a row, she might well be locked inside and left to die of
starvation.

Then Irene realized her mistake. Nickel
would have seen the pink light approaching and stepped out of the way.

This time, Irene put her left hand
up to her collar to cover her pink light while she let her right hand trail
along the wall.

She turned one corner and
traversed the length of the room to the second corner. There she bumped into a
warm body.
A body with breasts that pressed against hers.
A female body with no light on the collar.

She reached out and grabbed
Nickel’s wrist and pulled her hand down to let the red light shine like a tiny
beacon.

“Not doing our part, are we,
whiphand
?” Irene whispered into her ear. “Come with me and
let me introduce you to a few nice gentlemen.”

Nickel didn’t dare resist when
Irene pulled her into the sensuous,
slow-motion
mêlée
in progress on the mats.

When they were in the middle of
the orgy, Irene whispered, “You better get yourself fucked but good because,
the next time I lick your cunt, I expect taste a hell of a lot of semen in
there. If not, I’m going to have Lord Snow cane your ass into raw hamburger.”

Nickel began to slide away, but
Irene pulled her back and added, “And at the end of the entertainment, I’m
going to smell your breath. You better have a serious case of penis breath, too,
or you’ll have cause to regret your indolence.” She released her, but kept
watching the red light on her collar to make sure that it stayed visible and
stayed in the vicinity of a white gentleman’s wristband.

Her duty done, Irene scanned the
floor looking for one light in particular. Lord Snow’s wristband had been
fitted with a light that slowly cycled from pale blue to pure white to dusty
yellow and back. The change in shade was unlikely to be noticed unless a person
knew to look for it.

Irene spotted it at the edge of
the mêlée close to the interior door. That made sense. Lord Snow had entered
after his guests and had not moved far.

She made her way to him in a slow
shuffle, avoiding stepping on the male and female stars.

She brushed against an appendage
– a foot – and a hand groped at her chest, managed to find a tit,
and squeezed it. “Join us,” a man commanded.

There were already two stars
clustered about him – green and yellow – that would be Apple and
Tamarind. The man was a glutton for fruit. She thought that it was the
marquette
’s
voice but didn’t
bother feeling for his goatee. She took his hand from her breast, kissed it
warmly, and then placed it on Tamarind at the level of her waist and moved
away, turning so that the light on her collar faced away from him.

Someone was already offering her
service to Lord Snow. This wouldn’t have been the first time that he was
serviced tonight; it was already more than half an hour into the entertainment.

The star’s light was dark blue.
One of the borrowed slaves.

Irene knelt beside him and began
feeling the lord’s body. He was lying on his back. She felt the slave’s hair
hanging over his hips. She was ministering to him with her mouth. She removed
the slave’s hand from the root of his cock and replaced it with hers. Then she
stroked upward, pushing the slave’s mouth off his shaft and head.

The slave understood that Irene
was cutting in and didn’t object. There was no shortage of cock that needed
sucking in this room.

Lord Snow made a disappointed
whimpering sound but Irene cut that short by swirling her tongue around the
head of his dick.

His whimper turned to a contented sigh.

Then she straddled his hips and
lowered her cunt over his cock. It felt wonderful to finally have a man inside
her again.

As soon as she was deeply impaled,
he began to thrust into her, almost lifting her knees off the floor with his
powerful body.

She dragged her fingers along his chest
and up his neck to find his face,
then
she put her
finger across his lips. He understood that she was not shushing his mouth
– he wasn’t saying anything – but was quieting his body.

He stopped thrusting, curious to
see what would happen.

She didn’t move. She began
massaging his cock with her cunt muscles.

He gasped in pleasure at the
sensation. He had never felt anything like it.

The other slaves had been working
out with their cunt weights and were developing some strength, but none of them
were nearly as strong as Irene. And none of them had anywhere near her control.

Now, when they fucked a man, they
knew to add to his stimulation by squeezing him as he thrust. And the gentlemen
appreciated them as expert lovers – certainly more expert than their
wives or even their own slaves.

But Irene was in a different
league altogether.

Lord Snow had never before felt
anything like he was feeling now. Irene wasn’t just squeezing
him,
she was milking him, rolling the pressure along his
shaft from her outer lips to deep in her vagina in slow waves.

In a moment, he was mewling like a
newborn kitten, completely in thrall to her sensual magic.

She, in turn, was ecstatic to feel
a man penetrating her, deep and strong, after a long drought. Her breasts were
heaving in the darkness as she drew great, deep breaths and exhaled in long,
musical sighs.

She slowly ground her clit against
his pubic bone and massaged her g-spot with his rigid cock. Her swollen inner
lips were pressed hard against the root of his great shaft by her contractions.

She reached a plateau of arousal
that was almost painful, so exquisitely delightful the sensations from vulva to
cervix, and hung there using her mighty concentration to keep from tripping
over that last threshold until, at long last, she felt the man inside her pulse
and pulse and fill her with his thick, rich cream.

She screamed when she came.
Screamed like a demon from the pit of hell. Screamed like a runaway locomotive.
Screamed to banish the unbearable frustration of months of forced celibacy.

Her screams had not yet faded when
she collapsed on top of Lord Snow in a fog of pure joy.

She lay there, feeling his smooth,
muscular chest against her full, round breasts. Feeling his thighs caress the
inside of hers. Feeling his manhood slowly shrink and withdraw from her.

She rolled her face upward, found
his lips, and kissed him.

A slave never kisses a gentleman. She
lets the gentleman kiss her if he pleases and only then does she respond in
kind. But she never dares to take the initiative and force the intimate embrace
on him.

Most gentlemen don’t kiss slaves.

But the slave, Irene, kissed Lord
Snow and he kissed her back. It was long and deep and inexpressibly intimate.
Far more intimate than the love that they had just consummated.

When they unlocked their lips,
Irene laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him as tightly as she could,
pressing the entire length of her body against his, loving every inch of
contact.

“My God,” he said. “That was
incredible. I never felt anything like that before. That was pure art.”

She said nothing. Stars had no
voice. And she had no intention of revealing her identity by speaking aloud.
She wriggled against him, endeavoring to snuggle even deeper into his arms.

“James was a fool not to buy you
when he had the chance,” Lord Snow said quietly.

She stiffened. She was the fool to
think that she could outwit her owner. Then, because the jig was up, but she
wasn’t ready to concede defeat, she relaxed and began to massage his pectoral
muscles, slowly and silently, working the tension from him with her fingertips.

She had never enjoyed a man in
this way before. Not her husband, nor her former owner, nor his guests. But it
felt natural and she didn’t have to think about how to do it. She just did it.

After a bit, Lord Snow’s breathing
slowed to a long, regular rhythm. He wasn’t asleep, but he was as relaxed as
she had ever seen him.

He didn’t protest when she slipped
out of his loose grasp and silently stole away into the darkness.

She scanned the lights to make
sure that the red star was glowing somewhere next to a gentleman’s bracelet. It
was bobbing in a steady beat. She didn’t know if that was Nickel’s head bobbing
over a hot cock or if Nickel were on her hands and knees being rocked by a
determined buggering. She didn’t care. As long as a man was penetrating her in
some fashion, Nickel was being useful.

Later, when the action began to
fade and more lights were resting quietly on the mattresses than bobbing around
in dynamic constellations, she located the two yellow
star-lights
at opposite sides of the room. She went to one, found the lady’s hand, raised
her to her feet, and led her to the door to the kennels. Then she did the same
with the other.

Once both ladies were in the
tunnel, she closed the door and then lit an electric lantern. The light was not
bright, but all three of them squinted and blinked under the sudden assault on
their eyes.

Irene took the opportunity to re-don
her black
catsuit
.

The naked ladies started tittering
and whispering.

Irene shushed them and whispered,
“Keep quiet until we get back to the kennel.”

When they were again in the
pleasure room, Irene shut the door. “Was the entertainment to your
satisfaction?” she asked at a normal volume, indicating that it was safe to
talk.

Lady Linda and Lady Kaitlin looked
at each other and grinned.

“That was incredible,” Linda said.

Kaitlin squeezed her own buttock.
“Thank god you warned me to prepare my ass. Thank god I took your advice. I
can’t believe that I let myself get buggered. Twice. I think it was two
different men.” She wriggled her behind. “I still feel all loose and slippery
back there.”

“I didn’t,” Linda said. “Not this
time. But I sucked three cocks. I think it was a different one each time. And
then I let each one of them fuck me. I never realized how much men like going
at a woman doggy style. I didn’t get fucked the regular way even once.”

“I did. I just
laid
on my back and let them find me and have a go at me.
One
after another.
Bang, bang, bang. I got fucked more in one night than I
had in the whole last year. God, I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I won’t let Tim
into my bedroom for a week.”

Lord Timothy Granger hadn’t been
at the entertainment. Nor had Lord Hoffman. If they had, Irene would have kept
the ladies out. Nobody could risk having ladies discovered by their husbands.
Even the least attentive husband could be expected to distinguish between his
own wife and an anonymous slave in the dark.

Irene had
certainly been identified by Lord Snow
easily enough. And he had never
made love to her before.

“Okay, ladies, let’s get you
dressed and get your hair pinned up. I have to get you away before I go back in
there and end the entertainment.”

Her two ex-friends continued
giggling and chattering about their exploits all the way to their car.

As they were getting in, Kaitlin said,
“Thank you so much, Irene. This has been like a miracle.”

Linda hugged her tight and said,
“I regret so much that you sold yourself, Irene. But I think, tonight, I see
why you did it. It’s incredibly exciting.”

Irene hugged her back. “It’s not
always exciting. Mostly it’s boring. And my life will be a lot shorter as a
slave. I can expect to die as a labor slave before I reach fifty.
Probably before I reach forty-five.
But, at least I will
have lived before I die. When I was a lady, I never felt like I was really
alive.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t talk about
death tonight. Tonight is about life.”

Irene smiled. “Tonight is about
fun.”

“Life should be fun,” Linda said.

Then she got into her car and
drove off into the night.

Irene breathed a sigh of relief.
So many things could have gone so wrong. It was a miracle that she had not been
discovered. Now she could return to the entertainment without worrying about
being tortured to death by a bevy of furious aristocrats.

Before she entered to the billiard
room, she pressed a button that was mounted beside the door. Then she stepped
inside and waited.

After a minute, a spotlight began
to glow faintly. She positioned her head in the center of the beam and waited
until while it slowly increased in intensity.

When it was bright enough, it
began to expand to display her whole body encased in the shiny black
catsuit
.

The slaves took their cue and
whispered their farewells to the gentlemen around them and then rose from the
mattresses and filed back toward the kennels.