Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

Liera's hands went to her choker.  She didn't want to take it off, but she also didn't want to be naked in the street, on her hands and knees.

"No, not that.  Stupid piglet!  The shoes, of course."

Liera flushed.  She undid her shoes, left them next to the tunic and jacket.

"Very well," said Jalah.  "And now you may follow me into the house."

Liera tried to stand, and was held down by a steady hand on her back.  "No, you look very nice like this."

Red-faced, Liera crawled behind Jalah across the open plaza, up the stairs, and into the house.

It wasn't that much more private indoors.  There was a valet who bowed to them as they came in, and a maid took the little bundle of Liera's clothing that Jalah had been carrying.  "The staff will not take liberties," said Jalah, perhaps noticing Liera's hesitation at the way they looked at her.  "Not this time.  Perhaps if you beg prettily, Maash will lend you here again, for more general enjoyment."

She stopped, and turned to face Liera.  "Would you like that?"

Liera hesitated.  "I don't think that I would like that, lady," she said.

Jalah tsked, went around behind Liera, and stuck two fingers in her cunt.  "Once again.  Would you like to kept in a pen belowstairs, to be fucked by all the servants of the house, one after another?"

Liera could feel her muscles clench at that.  "Yes, lady," she said.  "Thank you, lady."

"There, you see?  You should not attempt to hide what you are.  And you should never tell fibs; bad things happen to girls who tell fibs." Jalah stood.  "Of course, bad things will happen to you, regardless."

"Yes, lady," said Liera.  "Thank you, lady."

"So charming," said Jalah, and patted her on the cheek.  "It will be such a shame, what I will do to you."

Liera flushed, from her toes to her hair.  She was very much interested in what Jalah was going to do to her.

"First the studio, I think," said Jalah.

Stairs were tricky, because Liera still wasn't allowed to stand, but she managed it, and was faintly proud of herself for being able to get into Jalah's studio.

It turned out to be an airy room, with a number of serious-looking tools, boxes and benches along the walls, and a heavy marble worktable in the center.  There were tools and spools of metal thread on the table, silver and gold, and a scattering of gems, sparkling red and blue and green.  But what drew Liera's eye was an ominous-looking hook hanging from the ceiling just next to the bench.

"Oh, very well," said Jalah.  "You will be less eager the second time, perhaps.  But what are your wrists?"

"My wrists?  Um, lady?  I don't . . ."

Jalah sighed.  "A nine?  A twelve?  What is their circumference?"

"I don't know, lady," said Liera.

Jalah tsked.  "There are not many things that Maash needs to teach her girls.  But if we do not know your necessary measurements, it leads to imprecise decoration and restraint."

As far as Liera knew, she wasn't just one of Maash's girls; she was Maash's girl.  And while Maash certainly both decorated and restrained her, she hadn't seemed to worry much about precision.

"Very well," said Jalah.  She took a length of cord, wrapped it around Liera's wrists—first one, then then other.  "A nine, and almost a nine-and-a-half for the right hand.  I will have to make a note of this for Maash, and tell her to train you to use your left hand more frequently.  It is not wise to allow these asymmetries to develop.  And what do you work with your hand so much for, anyway, piglet?"

Liera blushed, and Jalah laughed.  "No, surely Maash does not allow you that much liberty!  But I suppose that there is a price to paid to keep you so responsive.  Perhaps you will stroke yourself with your left hand too, sometimes."

As she was talking, Jalah had been opening drawers, taking things out, and putting them back.  She took a pair of steel bracelets, lined with leather, and fastened them around Liera's wrists; the fit was tight, but not too tight.  Then she strung a chain between them.

"Stand," said Jalah.

"Yes, lady, thank you, lady," said Liera, scrambling up to her feet.  Jalah looped the chain over the hook, and started a winch.

"You may hold onto the chain," said Jalah, as the winch raised the hook up, and Liera did, trying to get a good grasp as her hands were lifted up over her head.

Jalah stopped it when it was high enough to keep her pulled up on her tiptoes, but not so high that she was off the floor.

"There," said Jalah.  She stroked Liera's side, then dropped down to her thigh.  It was sticky there, and Jalah raised an eyebrow at that.  "Such enthusiasm.  Well, perhaps there will be less soon."

She went over to the table, took up a bit of filigree.  It was lovely, intricate gold work around a flat opal.  "This was closer," she said.  "Perhaps it will do for sale as second-rate work.  Certainly better than third.  But not what the Ahrin need, wouldn't you say?"

Liera twisted, tried to find a way to stand without having to pull herself up by her chains, tried to find a way to avoid the question that she'd been asked.

Jalah grabbed hold of a nipple; the same one she'd grabbed before.  "I have asked you a question, piglet.  You will answer questions when they are asked."

"Lady," said Liera.  "It looks lovely.  I don't know who the Ahrin are, and I don't know what they need."

"Lovely, then?" asked Jalah.  "You disagree with my assessment?"

Liera gave a soft sob.  Jalah's fingers hurt, and she didn't want to give the wrong answer.  "I don't know.  Lady."

Jalah gave her a stern look.  "Oh, I see.  You fear that you are to be beaten if you offend, yes?"

"Yes, lady," said Liera.

Jalah laughed.  "Oh, piglet.  You will be beaten regardless of what you say.  And then I shall hurt you in additional ways.  Look at the piece, and tell me what you see."

Liera looked.  "It is lovely," she said.  "The stone is very . . . it has clear edges and good color.  And the filigree is delicate and very fine work.  But it's a little unbalanced?  Like the left side is stronger than the right?"

Jalah looked at her, and laughed.  Not one of the little amused noises that she sometimes made, or a polite, conversational laugh.  A genuine, deep belly laugh, that left Jalah doubled up, tears at the corner of her eyes.

"Oh, oh, my," she said, getting a hold of herself.  "Oh, what you hear, when you ask piglet girls questions about jewels.  What insight, that the buckle half is balanced over to the left, what cleverness!"

She shook her head.  "Very good."  She patted  Liera's breast.  "But as I said, you are to be beaten regardless of what you said, no matter how amusing."  She went behind Liera, out of sight.  There was the rustling in cabinets, and then a whistling through the air that made Liera wince in anticipation.

Jalah came back in front of her, holding a thin cane.  It looked like it was made of bamboo, and had a silver handle.  "This is going to hurt a great deal.  You may shout and scream as you wish; I have chosen to leave your mouth open because I enjoy those sounds.  But no words, piglet.  Do you understand?"

'Yes, lady, thank you, lady' leapt to Liera's lips, but she bit the words back and nodded instead.

"Oh, very clever," said Jalah, and then hit her across her breasts.

Liera yelped, twisted away as far as the chains would let her.  That hurt, it had really hurt.  Maash would do that sometimes, but usually she hit lighter even after warming Liera up.  Another stroke of the cane, just a little lower.  Jalah had the idle, unfocused smile of a woman petting a cat.  Liera twisted; as soon as she straightened out, Jalah hit her again.

Then one across the thighs as she was twisting, and a stripe of fire laid across her butt.  Every hit was as hard as Maash's hardest, and there wasn't anywhere to go, any way to escape.  Liera twisted, pulled herself off the ground by the chains, but Jalah didn't stop, didn't even slow down.

She'd started crying almost with the first swat.  Then Jalah brought the cane down across Liera's pussy, and she started howling.  By the time Jalah was done, Liera's face was covered in tears, her nose was dripping, and her throat felt as badly abused as her breasts, her shoulders, her ass, her pussy.

Jalah stopped, but Liera kept crying, little hitching sobs.

"Very nice," said Jalah.  "Very calming."  Her hand ghosted across Liera's breasts, her stomach, and then down to her cunt.

She rubbed, and Liera responded, through her sobs.  "Calming for at least one of us," said Jalah, removing her hands and spreading her fingers, to show the thread of moisture between them.  "Oh, it is such a pity that the young girls are so modern in their outlook, choosing only one partner at a time."

She held her hand out, and Liera leaned forward, sucked Jalah's fingers clean.

"If only she were looking for a husband," said Jalah.  "You would be such a treat to add to the trousseau.  And if there was anything that he wanted which Maash did not wish to give, he could take it from you, with no complaints."

A pinch at her nipple, which brought fresh tears to Liera's eyes, and then the hand on her cunt, on her clit; her sobs turned into moans.  "Which reminds me!" said Jalah, and rang a bell.  "My husband shall be using your mouth and anus, of course.  The other . . . well, soon.  For now, I must not delay; I do not wish to waste the calm this exercise has given me."

Jalah returned to her workbench, and began twisting gold wires with sure, strong movements.  Every so often she'd need a different tool, or another width of wire, and she'd go and get it; when she passed Liera, she would give a quick pinch, or swat, or caress.  It helped distract from the growing soreness in her arms and shoulders, the ache in her calves.

After a while, a maid came in with a tray.  There was fennel root and slices of orange and green lemon, two small roasted birds, and a bowl of cold coconut soup with poppy seeds floating in it.

There was also a whole ginger root, a knife, a small bottle filled with a red paste, and a folded piece of cloth.  Jalah pulled out a release pin, and the winch came loose, dropping Liera's arms down with a rattle of chain.  the sudden change overbalanced Liera, and she fell to her hands and knees.

"Oh, very well," said Jalah.  "Most people would prefer to stand, but I suppose I can indulge you, piglet.  Besides, you look so charming like that.  Come here; yes, closer."

Jalah held out a slice of green lemon, and Liera ate it from her hand, her lips against Jalah's smooth skin.  Later was a cube of fennel, a spoonful of soup held up to Liera's lips.  It wasn't as much food or attention as she'd wanted.  After she'd gotten all the meat off the bones that Jalah had given her, she looked up, hoping for a little more.

"Tsh!" said Jalah, when she noticed her.  "Pudgy!" she said, grabbing hold of Liera's side, pinching hard.  "See!  And while Maash seems charmed by it, I do not think I need to fatten you any more."

She let go, and patted Liera's side, and then her butt, and then she fingered her cunt.  Liera started thrusting, breathing hard.  It had been a difficult morning, and Jalah's hands were so strong and smooth and knowing.

"Very lovely," said Jalah, her touch growing lighter.  "And I shall allow this to complete when my husband is thrusting into your anus; he enjoys the contractions most, that way.  But for now, there is just a bit left on this tray for you."

Liera was panting, sweating.  "Just once.  Please, lady, just once.  Just a little one.  I'll be as enthusiastic as you want, please."

"Yes," said Jalah.  "You will.  But no, not even a little one; I expect that what is approaching will delight my husband, and I enjoy seeing him delighted.  Now, let me prepare your treat."

"First this," she said, and put one of the green lemons in Liera's mouth.  "I shall inspect the skin later, to see if you can be trusted with my husband's member, or if we shall have to keep your mouth forced open."

The lemon wasn't that big, but Liera was still hungry, and it smelled good; she started to drool, and couldn't swallow.

"Also, it will keep you from saying things that nobody wishes to hear, which is for the best."

Then the winch started moving, and Liera was pulled back up to her feet, back up to her toes.  Jalah patted her hips, and she whined and twisted.  It was all too much, and she wanted to come; she wanted to come now.

"Belt size?" asked Jalah.

"Eveeneen, aiee," said Liera.

"As informative as I've come to expect.  No matter."  Jalah took a gold chain from the table, ran it around Liera's waist.  She set it low, over Liera's hips, clipped it off, and fastened it.  "Hm.  No, the color is not quite right.  It should be set off with stones.  Something red?  Or perhaps blue.  This will do for now, though."

She turned Liera around, so that she was facing the workbench, and then sat down, and picked up the hand of ginger.

"Has Maash been using this on you?" she asked.  Liera shook her head.

"Oh, but she should.  I shall have to talk with her about it.  It produces the most delightful movements in girls; they will press and squirm, trying to escape the sensation."  As Jalah talked, she started carving the ginger with swift, precise cuts of the knife, turning it into a curved length, with a knob on either end.