A Gentlemen's Agreement (21 page)

The
kennelman
tried to hide his contempt when he looked at Lord Snow. “I don’t know if a
slave ever enjoys it.”

Irene forced out the tear-drenched
words: “I do.”

The
kennelman
shrugged.

“Give her something for the pain,”
Lord Snow said.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything.
Kennelmen
are prohibited from ever bringing pain
relievers into a kennel.”

When he finished stitching a tear
in one of Irene’s outer labia and bandaging her vulva, the other slaves helped
her get off the table. It was too painful for her to close her legs so she had
to waddle.

Lord Snow told them to take her to
the bed in the pleasure room and then left her in their care.

An hour later he came back with a
bottle of pills and ordered Irene to take two.

She fell into an insensible sleep.

She never knew that he remained by
her side until dinnertime.

* * *

Two days later, Irene was sitting in the kitchen alone after
breakfast. The other slaves were in their cells, cleaning up and preparing for
the day.

Tamarind finished first. She came
in and sat down.

“I never had a chance to thank you
for saving me,” Irene said. “If you hadn’t told Lord Snow how badly I was being
beaten, I think Nickel might have kept strapping me until my cunt was
completely destroyed.”

Tamarind shrugged. “We have to
watch out for each other. There’s nobody else who cares what happens to us.”
She smiled a little. “Of course, mostly, I was helping Lord Snow protect his
property. If I’d let Nickel continue, you would have lost your value.”

“We have to do what we can to
ensure that our owners get a good return on their investment,” Irene said.
“Anyway, I want you to know how grateful I am.”

“You know that Lord Snow doesn’t
think of you as property like the rest of us.”

“I know. He remembers when I was a
lady inviting him to our manor for dinner parties. It’s a damn shame that he
won’t let me service him. I really need to feel a man inside me. This celibacy
thing is horrible.”

Tamarind laughed. “Poor you.”

Irene laughed with her. “I know. I
want to have my cock and eat it, too. A girl’s got to dream.”

“You’re better off not being used
while your pussy is still sore.”

“I’d tolerate the pain with good
cheer if I were getting laid.”

“You must be desperate.”

Irene nodded. “Desperate is the
word.”

“We’re all desperate for
something,” Cherry said, coming back from her cell.

“I’m desperate for ice cream,”
Lime said, following her. “I haven’t tasted ice cream since I was pressed into
slavery. I love ice cream.”

“I never tasted ice cream –
we couldn’t afford it – so I don’t miss it. I guess I’m lucky that way.”
Cherry said.

Irene said nothing, but she made a
mental note to provide ice cream as a reward in an upcoming entertainment.

Peach and Apple joined them and
they discussed mundane matters until Lord Snow escorted two hard-looking men
into the kennel. They were dressed in rough work clothes – cheap and
serviceable.

The slaves watched as Lord Snow showed
the men to Nickel’s cell.

Peach whispered, “Brothel owners.”

They could hear the discussion.
There was no negotiation. One of the men said, “Ten thousand
plaqs
,” and Lord Snow said, “Done.”

Nickel was taken from the kennel
naked, leashed with her hands cuffed behind her back. The heavy chain about her
neck was not merely symbolic. It was strong enough to restrain a tiger if
necessary.

Nickel was no tiger. She hung her
head so that her lank, greasy hair curtained her face but it wasn’t enough to conceal
her defeat. Everyone could see that her pallor was chalk white between her matted
locks
.

She looked like a person on her
way to the gallows.

“The function of a pleasure slave
is to provide service to any man who wants it,” Peach called to her.

She flinched.

“Keep count,” Tamarind said to
her. “I bet you service more than ten thousand cocks before you get sold to
labor.”

Irene could swear that she saw a
tear trickle from Nickel’s eye before she turned away.

She would never see or hear of
Nickel again. Probably her new owners changed her name to something more
alluring before they put her to work.

When the slaves were alone again,
Peach said, “I’ve seen them before. They own the Lucky Rooster brothel down on
the Seawall.
Strictly a quick in-and-out for sailors off the
freighters.
She’ll consider it an easy day if she has to suck only two-dozen
cocks.”

Cherry smiled. “They’ll get their
money’s worth out of her many times over, and then they’ll sell her on the
labor market.”

Lime nodded. “A pleasure slave
never returns to a manor after brothel service. Never.”

Irene would have felt pity for Nickel
if her crotch weren’t still throbbing in pain. Lord Snow’s pills helped but
they couldn’t make the most sensitive part of her anatomy completely numb. She
still didn’t know if there would be enough scarring to interfere with her
pleasure, or worse, if she had sustained permanent nerve damage.

Later in the day, Lord Snow came
back to the kennel and spoke with the slaves. “Do I have to buy another
whiphand
or will you maintain order on your own?”

He was looking at Peach. It wasn’t
difficult for Irene to figure out why he had brought Nickel into the kennel.

“I’m sure that you’ll be happy
with our behavior,” Peach said. “There won’t be any fighting here.”

“Any hint of a problem and my next
whiphand
will make Nickel seem like Florence
Nightingale in comparison.”

“Yes, sir.”

He left.

Cherry looked at Peach. “You leave
us alone and we’ll leave you alone and no one will every have to get pussy
whipped again.”

“You just stay out of my way,”
Peach replied.

“Everyone is going to stay out of
everyone’s way,” Irene said, “or I’ll make you the centerpiece in an
entertainment designed around unusual punishments. When I asked Lord Snow to
borrow the crucifixion frame from the professor, he told me that the
prof
has a whole collection of exotic punishment devices to
choose from. If the crucifixion frame is any indication, those devices are no
joke. Lord Snow’s guests might be well amused by a demonstration of all the
different ways that slaves can be made to suffer for a few hours.”

None of the slaves had any reply
to that.

It wasn’t an idle threat.

* * *

After a few days, the
kennelman
removed the stitches from Irene’s labium. Her entire vulva was still sore to
the touch, but it wasn’t giving her constant pain any longer. She couldn’t see
it, but she assumed that it was still mottled with bruises.

Lord Snow hadn’t asked her to
organize any more entertainments, but that wasn’t unusual. He and Lady Snow had
an abundance of reciprocal invitations and might not need to host another major
event for a month.

In the meantime, Irene amused
herself thinking of various ideas. She had staged a couple of games but had not
yet experimented with scripts or role-playing. A number of fun possibilities came
to mind. She would be ready when he asked for another event.

He frequently brought the other
slaves up to the manor for informal entertainments after small dinners. When he
had only one or two gentlemen to entertain, they retired to the billiard room
after dinner and he had a slave or two in attendance to provide service as
desired.

Irene wished that she were
included in those casual affairs. She wanted to feel a man inside her again.
Since coming to Lord Snow’s manor, she had only been fucked the one time that
she had deceived Lord Snow in the dark. It had been wonderful, but her ass had
paid a heavy price for her deception.

She would give almost anything for
a chance to sport with him freely and openly, but she had decided that she
would no longer try to nag or tease him into losing control.
Mostly
because it had never worked.

About two weeks after Nickel was
taken away, Tamarind came to Irene’s cell and told her that Lord Snow wanted
her in the pleasure room.

Irene hoped that he was going to
order her to design another entertainment. She was eager for something to do.

He was standing in the center of
the room when she entered. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better. I don’t feel any
pain now.”

“Do you think you suffered any
permanent damage?”

“I don’t know. It feels all right,
but I can’t be sure until I actually try to service a man.”

Lord Snow was breathing deeply
when he said, “Maybe we should find out, then.”

Irene looked at him with hopeful
eyes. He seemed to be saying what she wanted to hear, but she was afraid that her
desire was making her misinterpret his words.

But he wasn’t just teasing her.
“What position would be most comfortable for you. I mean, considering that we
aren’t sure how it’s going to work.”

“The usual way. Me on my back and
you on top.” The missionary position was, in fact, not the best first position.
Better would have been her on top so that she could control the speed and depth
of penetration and avoid pressure on her vulva if she began to feel pain. But
she didn’t want that. She wanted to be fucked in the most intimate way –
face to face with Lord Snow while he drove himself as deeply into her as possible.

He gestured to the bed.

She flung herself on her back and
spread her legs wide, grinning like the devil, silently inviting him to have at
her.

Have at her, he did. He stripped
his clothes off to reveal his rigid cock, ready for action.

Positioning himself between her
thighs, he began to press slowly and carefully into her.

To hell with that! She grabbed his
butt and pulled him deep into her cunt in one motion, raising her hips to meet
his.

It felt wonderful to be filled
with a thick, strong cock. If there was a slight twinge from the scar on her
labium, she didn’t notice. She was too busy trying to get him deep enough that
his pubic bone was pressing on her clit.

As soon as he was nestled far
inside, she began working her cunt muscles. She hadn’t tried to exercise with
the weights since her pussy had been whipped – it would have been
ridiculously painful – but she found that she hadn’t lost much tone. When
she clamped down on his cock and began to massage it, Lord Snow moaned in pleasure.
His moan rose and fell in syncopation with her pulsating cunt.

He began thrusting slowly and
gently.

Her cunt was infused with waves of
pleasure. She had never felt anything so wonderful. This was even better than
when she had serviced him anonymously in the dark.

She came with all the power of a
primeval goddess. Then, when he came two minutes later, she came again, just as
powerfully as the first time.

She clutched him tight and hugged
him close while he subsided and melted into her arms.

“It works,” she whispered in his
ear. “At least this time. We should make sure that it works every time. We’ll
have to do this again, maybe a hundred times or more before we can be really
sure.”

“I think it’s my duty to ensure
that you’re okay,” he said. “Over and over again.”

“I want that so badly, you
wouldn’t believe it. I hope that you don’t mind trying a lot of different
positions, just to make sure that they all work.”

“We definitely have to run a full
diagnostic sequence.”

“Whenever you like, as often as
you like.”

He rolled off of her and they
rested for a long while. Then he began to stir and she gently rubbed his cock
until it was ready for a second test run.

That worked just as well as the first.

As did a third
test run an hour after that.

* * *

“Lord Snow wants you to come to the manor tonight for
after-dinner service.”

Irene was astounded. Now that the
floodgates had opened – or more accurately, the gates to her sex had
opened – Lord Snow had been using her every day.
To
Irene’s delight.

But he had never given any
indication that he intended to share her with his guests.

She didn’t mind. If it
was
all right with Lord Snow, she would be happy to service
a variety of cocks. That was what a slave should expect from life. And it was
pleasant enough. Each shape and size of cock created its own kind of wonderful.

Then Tamarind clarified her
situation.

“All five of us will be there. He’s
going to be playing games with the professor. That sick old sadist never wants
service from the
slaves,
he just likes to ogle us
between hands. It’s as creepy as hell. You know that he’s imagining what you’d look
like when he has you mounted in one of his torture devices. You can see it in
his eyes.”

Irene was disappointed. She wanted
to be used, not ogled. But getting out of the kennel for the evening was better
than nothing.

Most likely Lord Snow wanted her
there so that she could listen to the professor talk about torturing slaves and
get some ideas for new punishments that she could use in future entertainments.

She had little interest in that. She
had only arranged to borrow his crucifixion frame because she had expected
Nickel to lose the sex games. In fact, she’d been prepared to fudge the scores
if one of the other slaves had failed to beat Nickel.

Now that Nickel was gone, she had
no intention of arranging any more brutal punishments.