During the debriefing the next day, Flame could give him a detailed analysis these anecdotes that illuminated each guest’s attitudes, position in society, and relationships with his peers.
On those days, Dodge did not use her for sex. After he had seen her violated by other men, he preferred to wait for a second day. Even though he hadn’t minded sharing Sapphire with everyone during that entertainment, he was a bit fastidious about Flame.
Flame was expressing her gratitude to Barry, her kennelman, orally every few days. She had initiated that on the ruse that she needed to learn to give good head because she’d never done it before.
That had turned out to be more than a ruse.
She had thought that the mechanics of giving head would be obvious and it was at the basic level. But Barry had been giving her master classes. What she learned from him, she had practiced with Dodge’s guests until she was a virtuoso.
She had become intimately familiar with every part of the penis. The tip of the head was different than the ridge and groove that separated the head from the shaft. The shaft was different at the root than it was near the head. The top of the shaft was different than the underside.
Each of these parts generated different sensations depending on whether they were kissed, licked, or sucked.
And she had developed a model of the inside of the penis. Squeezing it with her fingers at the sides was different that squeezing it top to bottom or wrapping her fingers around it and compressing it. She had learned to judge the blood flows through the major veins and the pressure of the blood inside that make it erect.
More important, she had enough experience with enough different cocks to know how they varied in size and shape from man to man and to know how different men responded to each of the different sensations that she could generate.
She could spend ten minutes giving a man one different sensation after another without repeating herself, and then she could move on to a second man and give him a completely different range of experiences that were tailored specifically for his size and shape.
She didn’t especially enjoy having a man’s cock shoved in her mouth, but she loved being able to astound the man with her skill. When she was on her knees, gentlemen were her puppets and their penises contained all the strings that she could pull to make them dance to her tune.
Sex was the only power that a slave had so she wanted to learn to exploit it to the utmost.
After a dozen dinner parties, which required that she give head to more than two dozen men, she realized that she had only begun to exploit her sexuality.
After relieving Barry of a heavy load – she suspected that he sometimes saved himself for her when he knew that she would soon be going down on him – she swallowed and then said, “I was thinking.”
“Oh, oh,” he said. “I hate it when a slave starts thinking because it’s only a matter of time until I’ll be putting antiseptic cream on another set of cane lines. I recommend that you stop thinking right now and don’t start again.”
“Don’t worry. These thoughts aren’t going to get me caned.” Easy to say, but her stomach clenched at the thought of the heavy black cane that was hanging on the wall. She never wanted to feel that on her flesh. “You’ve taught me to give expert blow jobs.”
“You’re a brilliant pupil.” He grinned. “It was my pleasure. Literally.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I was thinking that I probably need to learn just as much about regular sex as the oral variety. I pretty much let a man stick his cock into my cunt and bang away. My reflex is to push back in the same rhythm until he comes. But there’s got to be a lot more that I can learn about that, too. Just as much as you’ve taught me about giving head.”
“Oh, no! I told you what happens if I penetrate you below the waist. I’m not going down there for anything. Ever.” He looked upset. On the cusp of anger. “I told you that you were never to tempt me with that.”
He poked and prodded her sexual organs in his daily health checks, but he always wore latex gloves like any medical professional. He was adamant about never touching her below the waist with bare skin. He valued his own sexual organs too much.
“I’m not offering anything to you,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll beat you away with every ounce of my strength if you ever try to have sex with me. You couldn’t get it into me even if you wanted to.”
“Thanks.”
“I just want to know if there’s anything that I can do to be a better …” She couldn’t say lover because there was no love in what owners did to slaves.
“Sex partner.” He filled in the blank for her.
She didn’t think that what she experienced daily was a partnership, either, but she nodded because he had the idea.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll look into it.”
When he didn’t mention anything for a few days, she thought that he had forgotten about her request, but one morning, after her physical, he said, “I asked a few people about your problem.”
“Problem?”
“How you can make your cunt perform better.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Sometimes slaves try to make their cunts physically stronger. Your vagina is a tube of muscles. You can exercise them to strengthen them. If your cunt is more fit then it will stand up to the requirements of your duties better. More germane to your question, though, is that you can use that strength to squeeze a cock when it’s inside you. I heard that some slaves have developed enough strength and control to massage a cock to orgasm.”
“Men always have an orgasm when they fuck me.”
“Not this way. Imagine that you lie on your back and a man penetrates you and neither one of you moves. You do nothing but keep squeezing him with your cunt until he’s so excited that he comes. No hands. No thrusting. Nothing but an internal massage. Or he might lie on his back and let you mount him and give him the same treat.”
“You think that’s possible?”
“I heard. I don’t know if it’s real or not.”
She thought about that for a minute. “How would I find out?”
“I guess you have to try it for yourself.” He thought for a minute. “Try this. Put your finger inside your cunt. As far as you can reach.”
She did.
“Now try squeezing your finger.”
She did. She frowned and pursed her lips and concentrated. Her hips twitched and her stomach muscles contracted. After experimenting for a couple of minutes, her eyes grew wide. “I felt it. I felt my cunt squeezing my finger.” She tried again. “It happens when I squeeze myself like I’m trying not to pee.” Again. “It’s not very strong, but it’s definitely happening. I wonder if a man could feel that?”
Barry shook his head. “I’m going to be able to tell you that.”
“Of course not.” She withdrew her finger. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”
“What?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Do you ever get real sex? I mean something besides blowjobs?”
“Feeling sorry for me?”
“No. Just curious.”
“I have a wife and two children.”
“Oh. I guess you do, then.”
He smiled. “I do.”
“Good.” It made her happy to know that Barry got proper sex when he wanted it. She liked him, probably more than any man that she had ever known.
“So what are you going to do about squeezing things with your cunt.”
“Squeeze things with my cunt. See how strong I can get with exercise. See how much control I can develop with practice.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
After three weeks of small dinner parties, Flame was getting a better idea about what Dodge was up to.
At first, she thought that Dodge was mining the highborn for business opportunities. He was a successful businessman and never lost an opportunity to engage a wealthy man in a contract. Soon, though, it was clear that Dodge was looking for mo
re than that.
“May I be blunt?” she asked after their latest post-dinner-party debriefing.
“Of course.” He frowned. She knew that he expected her always to be direct with him. If she felt that she needed special permission, she must have something exceptional to say. “I won’t cane you for honesty.”
Rather than relaxing, she tensed at the mention of the cane. She never wanted to feel its bite and was instantly on guard when she saw that it was on his mind.
She could think of no way to choose her words delicately so she laid it out in bald language. “You want a knighthood.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Sir Drake is helping you by introducing you to society. I’m helping you by telling you and Mrs. Dodge how to be presentable.”
“Yes.”
“I would like to see you knighted. Not just because you own me but because you would be an asset to society.”
He raised an eyebrow. She was right to be concerned for her skin. Any other slave would be beaten for daring to offer an opinion about something so far above her station. But Flame was a special case. Titled ladies were sometimes adjudicated into slavery, but almost all of those were the daughters of knights and other minor aristocrats. The wife of a lord had never been known to fall so far from her station so she was given considerable latitude. “Thank you.”
She was encouraged by his gratitude and continued. “You have a problem. Drake can’t knight you. He can introduce you to baronets, but they can’t knight you, either. He doesn’t have the status in society to introduce you to a lord and that’s the lowest rank that can bestow a knighthood.”
“I know that.”
Flame wasn’t sure that he really understood. “You have to understand that, among the ranks of knights, Drake is not highly esteemed. His status is barely higher than Sir Anthony’s and Anthony is always only one creditor away from bankruptcy. That Drake managed to introduce you to two baronets surprises me, but I’m not surprised by the ones that he found. Both are at the bottom of the baronets’ social class. There’s a good reason why I only met Grenfeld at a large ball and never met Baronet Lazard at all.”
Dodge stared at her in silence.
“I’m not saying that Drake isn’t doing you a service. You need to be introduced to society at his level. And you and Mrs. Dodge are getting excellent chances to practice your skills. You would have little difficulty being accepted in society, now.” She was exaggerating somewhat. The Dodges’ behavior was mediocre at best. They had a lot to learn yet. But they would no longer be an embarrassment, either. “But this is as far as Drake can take you. All you can expect from him is more of the same. From what I have overheard, you may be disadvantaging yourself in your business dealings with Drake in exchange for promises that he can’t keep. I caution you from giving away too much for the little that you are receiving in return.”
Dodge’s face drained white. He slapped Flame hard across the face.
She reeled from the force of his blow.
“Get on the bench!”
She had never heard her owner snarl like an animal. The sound was terrifying.
She fell to her knees. “Please. I didn’t mean to offend. Please forgive me.”
“The bench!”
She scrambled to obey.
He cuffed her wrists and ankles with sharp, angry movements.
“Please, sir. Please have mercy.”
She watched him pull the cane from the hook on the wall. It was a dense black plastic rod, three feet long and a half inch in diameter.
Her stomach knotted with fear. “Please, I’m begging you. I’m so sorry. Plea–”
Her pleading was silenced by the first cut of the cane across her buttocks.
The rod was made of dense black plastic. When it struck, the thick, dense thud of the blow echoed from the walls.
Agony flared in Flame’s ass. Her arms and legs contracted, pulling hard against the chains that restrained her.
She howled in pain.
Dodge did not pause. He raised the cane and brought it down with his full strength a second time.
The rod whistled through the air.
The high-impact plastic snapped a second bright red line into her buttocks.
Her howl turned to a mindless scream.
A third stroke laid across the first two broke the skin at the intersections.
Her screams intensified.
A fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Nobody was counting as stroke after stroke blistered into the woman’s suffering flesh.
Her screams drowned out the thud of impact after impact.
As suddenly as he had begun, Dodge stopped. He stared at his slave’s abused flesh for a minute.
Blood was flowing from red and black and blue lines that were etched into white skin. Welts and cuts furrowed her buttocks like a new-plowed field.
He dropped the cane to the floor and left the room without saying a word.
Flame lay across the bench and sobbed inconsolably.
Dodge did not return to release her.
She lay chained to the bench all night, enduring wave after wave of pain as her muscles twitched and jerked involuntarily.
Barry, the kennelman, found her still chained to the bench at seven the next morning.
“Looks like someone has been a naughty slave,” he said, appraising her tortured ass. “Upset our owner, did we?”
She groaned and turned to look at him with red eyes.
He consulted his clipboard and left without saying any more.
A few minutes later, he returned. “Okay. Let’s get you off the bench, shall we?”
He unbuckled the cuffs from her wrists and ankles and said, “Now, can you stand up by yourself?”
She could stand only by leaning on him.
“Let’s get you to the toilet, first.”
She couldn’t sit. Barry supported her while she squatted above the bowl and emptied her bladder. Some sprayed on the seat but she didn’t notice.
It was one of her most humiliating moments.
Then Barry wiped her vulva dry and she sank into an even deeper pit of humiliation.
She couldn’t sit so he helped her shuffle into the kitchen and supported her while she drank two glasses of water. “You have to stay hydrated when you’ve suffered a trauma. You lose fluids.”
Then he gave her a bowl of porridge that she had to eat standing up.
When she finished, he took her to her cell and laid her facedown on her cot.
He dabbed a salve into her wounds. “This will fight infection and promote healing. Unfortunately, there’s no anesthetic in it. That would defeat the purpose of the punishment so kennelmen are always prohibited from using anything that dulls pain.”
A fresh sob escaped her lips.
“I know.” He finished treating the wounds and then began taping gauze across them. “You’re lucky. Mr. Dodge is allowing me to bandage you. A lot of owners don’t want the bandages because they like to see the stripes. The bandage helps healing so it’s good that he’s letting me do this.”
She groaned so softly that it came out as a sigh.
“It’s not as bad as it feels. You’re going to have some minor scarring. A few red lines that will fade to almost nothing in a year or so. I counted nineteen strokes, but only five or six of them are bad enough to scar. A caned butt isn’t so bad as a caned back. I’ve seen slave’s backs that have been cut down to the ribs from shoulder to waist. Their scars will never fade. Their flesh has been rearranged.”
Flame remembered Sapphire’s back. Sapphire had suffered like this, over and over. The thought was overwhelming. She wondered if Barry had been Sapphire’s kennelman, too. Probably not. A lot of slaves had scarred backs.
“But yours will fade,” Barry said. “In a couple of years, all you’ll have is a few silvery lines, barely visible. Just enough to prove that you’ve been perfected. That’s what they say you know. That a slave isn’t perfect until she’s been well and truly caned.” He stro
ked her hair gently. “Now you’re a perfect slave.”
“Thank you,” she muttered softly into her mattress. “If I could move, I’d give you such a sweet blow job.”
He laughed softly. “You give the best head but I’ll take a rain check on that. You just lie there and heal. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stayed on the cot all day.
Mr. Dodge brought her a plate of food at suppertime.
He couldn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s okay,” she said. “you haven’t lowered my value too much.”
He jerked as though he’d been slapped.
She bit her tongue. She couldn’t afford to be sarcastic. If he ordered her back to the bench and caned her again, she feared that the pain alone might kill her. It was her turn to say, “I’m sorry.” She meant it. There’s nothing like a good caning to make a slave well and truly sorry.
He looked miserable. “I never thought that I could treat another person like that.”
“You didn’t. I’m not a person. I’m your property and you can do whatever you like to me.” She didn’t understand his problem. Fucking her every day whether she wanted it or not was okay. Handing her over to a half dozen strangers who formed a line, waiting to violate her asshole, one after another, was all right. Sending her out on errands in pouring rain wearing only a cotton housedress was okay. Letting his wife make her eat table scraps off the bathroom floor every night was okay. Even taking a leather strap to her just to watch her flinch and hear her cry was fine. But beating her with a cane after she had actually insulted him was over the line?
“I’m afraid that you’ll never trust me again.” He still wasn’t meeting her eyes.
“So what? Why would you care if a slave trusts you or not. I’ll do what you say, obey any order, regardless.”
“You’ll obey me because I’ll beat you if you don’t?”
“I’ll obey you because that’s the proper order of the world. You paid a lot of money for me. You own me. I, of all the slaves in the world, have the least right to complain about that. I wasn’t forced into this. I decided of my own free will that I would let men own me for the rest of my life. You can beat me half to death any time you want. You don’t need a reason. You can tell me right now to crawl back onto that bench so that you can cane the flesh from my back and I’ll do it even if it means that I’ll be disfigured for the rest of my life. I’ll put the cane in your hands, personally, and kiss your feet afterward.”
Slave of the Aristocracy: Book One – On the Auction Block Page 12