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A League of Ladies (Slave of the Aristocracy Book 5)

Page 7

by Ashley Zacharias


  “The owner’s pleasure,” she said. “Only sometimes for the slave’s pleasure. Too often for the slave’s pain and humiliation.”

  “What’s that door?”

  “That door opens on the corridor to the billiard room in the manor.”

  “Oh. Of course. That’s how slaves go to the infamous entertainments in the gentlemen’s billiard rooms.”

  “That’s the doorway to the orgy, all right.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence.

  Irene broke it with a giggle. She knew what Mike wanted and it amused her that he was too embarrassed to ask. He was so earnest and naïve. She decided to take pity on him. “So now you’ve seen a typical slave kennels. All the ones that I’ve seen are laid out about the same. Slave owners didn’t have much imagination when they built these so if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

  “Thank you for the tour,” he said.

  “You never saw inside kennels before?”

  “Never.”

  “Have you ever had the service of a pleasure slave?”

  His face turned a brilliant shade of red. “No.”

  “Never?”

  “I never had the opportunity.”

  “Well, you have the opportunity now.” She spread her hands slightly to put her nude body on offer. “I’d be happy to give you any service that you might like to try.”

  “Umm. What would you suggest?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ve had sex before. You’re not a virgin. I guarantee that. So I suggest that you order me to do something that you were afraid to ask your girlfriend to do for you. Have a brand new experience. Do something that you thought that you’d never have a chance to try. She leaned close so that her breasts were pressed against his shirt and whispered in his ear, “Blowjob. Take me like a dog. Fuck me in the ass. Spank me. Tie me up. Even flog me if you want. Look around, sir. There’s enough equipment in here to do almost anything that you can imagine.”

  He looked around.

  “I suggest that you start by ordering me to undress you.”

  “Undress me,” he said.

  She undressed him slowly, running her fingers over his skin as she exposed it, bending down to kiss his nipples, taking extra time to run her fingernails over his back and squeeze his buttocks.

  But she left his rigid cock alone. It was up to him to tell her what he wanted to do with that. She did note that it was a nice cock. Slightly larger than average but well-formed. She had become a connoisseur of cocks and the aesthetics of his pleased her.

  “Turn around and get down on your knees,” he said as soon as she had rendered him naked.

  She approved of that. He was giving her direct orders. He was getting into the spirit of using a pleasure slave.

  She turned silently and sank to her knees.

  “Head on the floor.”

  She lowered her head to the floor so that her ass was protruding high into the air and waited to see which hole he would penetrate. Or if he would take a paddle from the wall.

  No spanking today. He wanted her cunt.

  She felt him slide slowly into her and she began to contract her vaginal muscles to squeeze him rhythmically.

  He gasped in surprise and began to work himself in and out, not thrusting hard or fast, but pulling almost all the way out and then pushing into her as deeply as his substantial cock would reach.

  She subtly pushed back against him to make certain that she was getting as much of him as possible. She liked him. She wanted all of him.

  All the time, she kept massaging him with her powerful internal muscles.

  In a few minutes, they were both howling in pleasure as they came together.

  He collapsed on top of her and she sank to the hardwood floor. He rolled off her and they lay side-by-side for a few minutes.

  When his breathing subsided back to a normal rate, he spoke. “That was amazing. I never felt… What you did with your vagina… What did you do?”

  “It’s a skill that I’ve spent some time developing. Not all slaves can do that. I use exercises to strengthen the muscles in my vagina and throughout my vulva. Sometimes I’ve been asked to train other slaves in the skill.”

  “I think I’m in love.”

  “Too bad. I’m a married woman.”

  “What does your husband think about you doing this with other men?”

  “I haven’t asked but I’m pretty sure that he disapproves. The first time that he was with me, more than half a year after I enslaved myself, he caned me rather brutally. I still have the scars on my ass. They’ll fade with time but never go away completely.”

  Mike ran his finger over the low, still-slightly-red ridges on her buttocks. “That’s terrible.”

  “That was fair. He needed to work out some of his anger. That was why I told him to cane me.”

  “You told him to do this to you?”

  “It was fair.”

  There was a moment of silence, and then Irene said, “You can’t do that to me. I exaggerated slightly when I said that you could do anything. I’m on loan to you, so by the rules of etiquette, you can’t do anything that will damage me. You can use floggers and paddles, but no caning. Also, obviously, no cutting or burning. Also, I can’t offer you a threesome with the other slaves here because they aren’t mine to offer to you. But if you have a girlfriend who’s adventuresome, you can ask her if she’d like me to join both of you in bed.”

  Mike stared at her. “You’re talking like we’re going to do this again.”

  “Right now, it’s the only sex with a real cock that I’m getting. I like sex so, if you want to do this after every meeting, I’d be happy to keep lending myself to you. It’s research, you know. You can’t really understand what a pleasure slavery does merely by talking to them.”

  His mouth had dropped open again.

  “The only problem is that we can’t use this room again. I’ve already pushed Lord Cranford’s generosity as far as I dare. You could use me in your office at the university if you like. I’ve been bent over a few different office desks. Or, you can have me at your place if you don’t have a wife there.” He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but some men didn’t.

  “No,” he said. “I’m not married. And I don’t live with my girlfriend. We’re just dating.”

  That became their pattern. She met with Mike and Elaine in the afternoon, and then she went back to his place for sex before he took her back to the Cranford’s kennels.

  She didn’t know if he told Elaine what they were doing. He never offered to include Elaine in their fun and she never hinted that she wanted service, too.

  During the next half dozen days, he learned a lot more about what a pleasure slave could do for a man than he ever imagined.

  It was good while it lasted. Which wasn’t long.

  * * *

  Geoffrey tracked her down only a week after she started giving service to Professor Cable.

  She should have known that it was dangerous for her to go to the university. The young man was a predatory slaver disguised as a student. He trolled his classes for beautiful young women, befriended and seduced them, inveigled them into borrowing money from his father, and then pressed them into slavery when he suddenly foreclosed and they couldn’t repay the loan.

  She had been stupid not to realize that, as a pleasure slave with long hair and a housedress, she stood out on campus. Students stared openly at her as she walked between buildings but that happened everywhere. She should have known that she would be the subject of gossip.

  Her first clue that she had been found was when she left Professor Preston’s office after exchanging a general description of gentlemen’s entertainments – orgies, really – for a lesson in the early history of the development of government regulation of pleasure slave auctions.

  When she reached the front door of their building, she glanced back to hold the door for anyone was also leaving and found Geoffrey standing right behind her. Her heart began poundin
g and her throat felt tight. She was a slave, not a person. He could strangle her right here in front of witnesses with impunity. If she so much as raised a hand to save herself, she would be crucified – a far worse death than strangulation. The only consequence for him would be a civil infraction that he could easily resolve by paying her trust the value of the property that he destroyed.

  “Long time, no see, Irene,” he said.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Hobnobbing with the school faculty. Whose cock do you have to blow to get a good grade around here? I bet you don’t know. You’d just blow everyone who asks. But you’re up to that, aren’t you? That sweet little mouth of yours is the stuff of legends.”

  “You might have to blow your professors, but some of us get our attention the old fashioned way – we have interesting ideas to share.”

  “Oh, snap! You really got me that time, you sly wit, you.”

  She turned back and opened the door.

  He followed her out of the building, walking right beside her. “How about we let bygones be bygones? Bury the hatchet. Let old grudges die. I’m not a bad guy once you get to know me. You’re a vicious old bitch but I can overlook that. It might even add a dash of spice to our new friendship.”

  “Not bloody likely.” She wondered why he was talking to her instead of cutting her down right where she stood. The only reason that she could imagine was that he was afraid of her husband’s threat that he would have the Assembly of Lords pass an edict of attainder against the Drakes if anything happened to her. If Geoffrey killed her in public and Lord Fortson made good on his threat, then he would be committing suicide.

  “Don’t be like that. Let me buy you a cup of coffee. Some day we’ll look back on our little contretemps and laugh about it.”

  “Not bloody likely.”

  He grabbed her arm hard enough to leave bruises and spun her to face him. “Think carefully about your options, Irene.” He had lost his sarcastic, bantering tone and was speaking with an uncharacteristic cold maturity. The sheep’s hide had slipped to reveal the predatory wolf. “You can help me find a way to settle our differences or you can wait until I kill you.”

  “How do you think we’ll ever settle our differences?”

  “I’m a businessman. I have a bottom line. You’re an entry on my balance sheet and I’m writing my losses in red ink right now. When I can show my father a profit from my dealing with you, then our account will be settled.”

  “You want money?”

  “Money and more. Don’t kid yourself. You’ll have to suffer considerable unpleasantness to balance the books. Public humiliation like Westmouth has never seen before. But in the end, you’ll be alive and whole, which is a lot better than the alternative.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  Nobody could express smug victory like Geoffrey. “Here’s an idea to kick around. We own a controlling interest in a couple of brothels down by the docks. Maybe you should volunteer to serve there for a while as an anal whore. I’d like to see you get fucked in the ass by ten thousand men. If you service ten a day, you’ll be free in three years. If you can ramp it up to a couple dozen a day, you’ll work off your debt to us in a little over a year. You could do that. Shit out a pint or two of semen at the end of every day for a year and you’d have the rest of your life to enjoy your memories of all those men. That would satisfy Dad and me.”

  She stared at his smug face.

  “We’ll negotiate the details tomorrow. I’m going to let you go back to your secret hideout and think about how low you’ll be willing to sink to save your life. Sleep on it. Meet me at six tomorrow evening at God’s Finger and we’ll discuss your restitution.”

  God’s Finger was a park on a small rocky point jutting into the ocean. “Why there?”

  “You want to talk in a crowded coffee shop about how you’re going to spend the next couple of years getting fucked in the ass by any man with ten plaqs in his pocket?”

  She saw his point.

  He released her arm and sauntered away.

  Her asshole clenched tight just thinking about what the bastard had proposed. Would he really prefer whoring her out to killing her? He might. Her husband couldn’t sponsor an edict of attainder against the Drakes if she voluntarily entered into service in a brothel.

  Ten thousand men was Geoffrey’s opening offer. Obviously that was ridiculous, but it meant that she could propose a more reasonable counter offer.

  She had a lot to think about.

  * * *

  She would offer him a month of service in a brothel. Or any other kind of service that he preferred. But that would be her fallback position.

  First, she would offer her services as a director for a fixed number of entertainments. Her talent as a director of entertainment was well known and highly valued by the aristocracy. That wouldn’t be as humiliating as serving in a brothel but would be far more valuable to the Drakes. That would not only restore any status that they had lost among the aristocracy, but would elevate them to higher status than they had ever held.

  It was a gray autumn day. Though it was more than an hour before sunset, low hanging clouds rolling off the ocean darkened the sky. The rocky point was almost deserted. There were only a couple of other cars in the lot when the cab brought Irene there. She told the driver to wait and gave him a ten-plaq note to secure his service.

  Geoffrey was leaning against a mid-sized sedan at the back of the lot. His red sports car was probably still in the shop getting the body repaired after he’d tried to run her down.

  “You don’t have to keep the cab,” Geoffrey said when she approached him. “I can drive you straight to the brothel from here. You can get fucked in the ass a dozen times tonight and only have nine-thousand, nine-hundred, and ninety cocks left to service.”

  “Not so fast, cowboy. I have a counter offer that you should hear.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She outlined her proposal to help the Drakes improve their status by providing a series of entertainments.

  He countered by reducing her brothel service to five thousand ass fuckings and ten entertainments, provided that she be publicly fucked in the ass by at least ten gentlemen at each entertainment.

  She ignored the brothel service requirement and noted that not all gentlemen wanted to fuck a pleasure slave in the ass. Nine out of ten preferred cunts.

  He said that if she were the only slave at the entertainment and she offered her asshole properly, she could easily get herself fucked in the ass a dozen times.

  She began explaining that she couldn’t raise the Drakes’ status by staging entertainments with only herself to serve too many guests when he grabbed her wrist, twisted her arm painfully behind her back and snapped a handcuff on it.

  She was too shocked to react quickly and he had her other wrist trapped in the cuffs before she could fight back.

  “Hey,” he said, “this is tradition. A slave is handcuffed when her service is transferred to a new owner.”

  “You’re not my owner.”

  “Owner on loan, let’s say.”

  “We haven’t reached an agreement on the terms of the loan, yet.”

  “No, we haven’t. I’ll tell you the terms soon enough.” He opened the rear door of his car and shoved her inside. “You stay there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He walked back to her cab to give the driver a large-plaq note to go away and never talk about anything that he’d seen.

  The driver had no problem with that. Geoffrey was obviously an aristocrat so he could do whatever he wanted with a slave. The driver never got involved in aristocrats’ business.

  In the back seat of the car, Irene looked desperately for a door handle. There were none. The handles had been removed, leaving only stubby shafts in small holes. She turned her back to the door, but she had no hope of working the little stubs with her fingers.

  She heaved herself over the seat back, knocking her head against the steering wheel. I
gnoring the pain, she twisted her legs around to get leverage and threw herself backward against the passenger door.

  When she worked the door handle, the door sprang open and she fell onto the gravel surface of the parking lot – right at Geoffrey’s feet.

  “Whoa, there, little lady.” He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to her feet. “You aren’t going anywhere. We’ve got to take care of business.”

  “I’ve got no more business with you.”

  “Sure you do.” He jerked open the back door of the car and threw her into the back seat once again. This time he snatched a rope off the floor and grabbed one of her feet.

  She kicked and jerked but he was prepared. He had already tied a loop in the rope. He snared the foot in his hand, pulled the loop tight around that ankle, and then grabbed her other foot and wrapped the rope around both ankles together.

  Once her feet were immobilized, he bent her legs back at the knees and tied the end of the rope around the handcuff chain, hogtying her.

  All the time, she screamed for him to let her go.

  He ignored her.

  When she was secured in a helpless position, he rolled her off the seat and onto the floor.

  He sat in the driver’s seat and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “We have no deal!” she shouted up at the back of his head. “I’ll never serve in a brothel except by force. Every man who pays for me will have to rape me. How many customers do you think will be willing to fight to get what they paid for?”

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” he replied. “You’re not going to any brothel. Idiot. You think that I’m going to put you somewhere that your precious Lord Fortson and his friends can show up and save you again? All this talk about deals was just a way to get you here alone. You’re getting nothing but the fate that we promised you. We’re going straight to the dump and I’m going to cut your head off with a butcher knife. No pack of lords can to save your neck now. In an hour, I’ll give that gold collar to my father and then we’ll get on with our lives.”

 

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