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

by Ashley Zacharias

  Felice looked at her crotch. “It just stays in there?”

  “Not just stays. I’m concentrating hard to keep it in place all the time. If I stop concentrating for even a second, it’s going to fall out.” She put her hand between her legs and let the weight drop. “That’s a relief. It takes real effort to hold onto it. But this is the strength that I need to keep fucking men all evening at an entertainment. You won’t need quite as much endurance as I do.” She reinserted the weight and continued to help the other women.

  After all the women tried their cunt weights and understood how to adjust them, Irene said, “Your goal is to develop enough strength that you can straddle your husband, tell him to stay perfectly still, and bring him to orgasm only by massaging his cock with your cunt. It’s not the greatest sex, but it’s an exquisite sensation for both of you that he’ll never forget. That’s something that he’ll never get from a pleasure slave. Unless he happens to run into me and that’s unlikely. I haven’t been fucking many men lately and don’t expect to be especially promiscuous in my present circumstances.”

  In fact, she hadn’t been properly fucked since she moved into James’ manor. She didn’t know why he never wanted her and hadn’t yet asked, but she was going to have to put the question to him soon. If she didn’t get a satisfactory answer she’d move on. She wasn’t going to be a celibate wife again. That’s why she’d sold herself into slavery in the first place.

  After having fun with their cunts, Irene talked briefly about different positions, emphasizing the importance of having a strong vulva so that they ladies could get enough stimulation to get pleasure from positions like rear entry that didn’t give the man contact with their clits.

  Then she moved on to blowjobs. Each lady had an anatomically correct dildo in her gift bag. Irene used that to show the different parts of the penis and to describe the different sensations that could be administered to each part. She had the ladies practice some basic licking and sucking on their own dildos. “Practice on your husbands frequently. Each man is different and you should make sure that you know exactly how your husband’s cock works. It’s embarrassing for me to admit how little I knew about my own husband’s cock even though we had been married for several years. I thought that I should be his sole source of pleasure even though I couldn’t have recognized his cock in a lineup. It’s like expecting your man to listen only to music that you play yourself when you’ve never bothered taking a music lesson. If you can’t at least play an interesting tune, then you can’t blame him for going to a concert once in a while.”

  Three women booed her when she said that and she answered with a grin. “At least learn to play a few scales on your husband’s flute.”

  They broke for lunch. Irene cooked spaghetti, garlic bread, and a salad in the little kitchen in the kennels while the ladies chatted among themselves. “You know, ladies,” she said when she began cooking, “it’s not hard to cook a few basic recipes and there’s a lot to be said for dismissing all the staff so you can have the manor to yourself to feed your husband and then fuck him in every room on the ground floor. He won’t be going out to his kennels that night.”

  After lunch, she introduced the butt plug and lube. “This is critical slave equipment but most of you aren’t going to use this much. I included it so that you can experiment a little. You should be ready to offer your husband your asshole at least once, but don’t be surprised if he doesn’t take you up on your offer. Most men aren’t interested in fucking a woman’s asshole. A lot of them will try it just to try it, but it’s not part of their usual activities. Some men like the tightness of an asshole, but I think that the main attraction for most men is that it’s so humiliating for the woman. If your husband likes it then go for it. You can learn to enjoy it, too, but it’s an acquired taste. Don’t expect to feel unlimited ecstasy the first time. Personally, I like it a lot better than celibacy, but I’d rather get fucked in the cunt any day. One caution. Don’t ever tell your husband that there’s anything wrong with him if he wants to bugger you. It’s not sick or perverted. It’s just a preference and, if you really want to keep him in your bed, you should respect his choice.”

  “What about our choice,” Melanie asked.

  “It’s your choice, too. No question about that. If you really can’t do it, then don’t. But if it’s only a little bit distasteful, then you have to ask yourself if it’s worth refusing your husband. If he likes going fishing and invites you along once in a while, are you going to refuse him just because it’s not as much fun as going to a movie? I should hope not. If he wants you to go fishing all day, every day, then, sure, you’re going to have to let him go alone. But once in a while? Ask him to give you a little warning, get yourself loosened up and packed with lube and let him go for it. It’s only a quarter hour out of your life and his gratitude will be worth it.”

  “What if he wants to do it only that way and never the right way?” one of the strangers asked.

  “Then either you’re going to have to learn to like it or you’re going to have to send him out to his kennels and be celibate. If you really can’t find some compromise with him, then you may have to decide how important your marriage is to you. I hope that you aren’t in that position.”

  The woman shook her head. “No. It’s not like that. I’m just asking.”

  “I think I know what you’re really asking and the answer is, ‘No.’ You aren’t a slave and you don’t have to take orders from your husband. He has no right to force himself on you, nor to expect you to do every silly thing that pops into his head. You came here to be better and more satisfying wives, not to turn yourselves into slaves. I turned myself into a slave and I don’t recommend it. Being your husband’s wife is your strength, not your weakness. You have to learn to use the strength of your position. That’s really what today is about. You have first claim on your husband and I want you to know how to use that power to make both of you happy.”

  She spent another couple of hours telling them about some more exotic practices, including servicing women and threesomes. She also described how one Lord and Lady had fun with dildos without revealing any names. Her point was that depravity didn’t have to end just because a couple were in their sixties. She could even tell them about having sucked eighty-year-old cock. The octogenarian couldn’t get it up, but he still loved the sensation of a woman’s mouth on his limp dick. She didn’t know if eighty-year-old women felt the same joy when someone went down on them.

  To complete the day, she took them through the corridor to the manor’s billiard room and described the entertainments that she’d participated in.

  They were dumbfounded by some of the more elaborate orgies that she’d organized.

  At the end, she admitted, “–that there are things that pleasure slaves are going to do that wives simply cannot. You cannot stage these kinds of entertainments yourself. But I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Your husbands can’t live full time at the orgy. In the end, they’ll always have to drag themselves back to you.”

  “Do all the men participate in the entertainments or do some just watch?” Melanie asked.

  Irene laughed lightly. “Sorry. I’ve never yet seen a man pass up on a chance to fuck a slave, if for no other reason than to show every other man in the room that he’s a stud, too.”

  * * *

  When Lord Fortson still wasn’t using her services after a couple of weeks, Irene decided that it was time to tackle that problem head on.

  “Why haven’t you used my services? I’ve been on loan to you for weeks. Don’t you think it’s about time you enjoyed my body?”

  James put his newspaper aside and looked at her over his morning coffee. “I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right.”

  “What the hell does that mean? I’m a pleasure slave. Since when is it wrong to use the services of a pleasure slave? Don’t try to tell me that you haven’t been making good use of the slaves out there in your kennels.”

  “You’re
not them. You’re my wife.”

  Her scream echoed through the manor.

  He stared at her in shock.

  Sud poked her head into the dining room, saw the James and Irene staring at each other and fled.

  Irene struggled to regain her composure and tried to speak calmly and rationally. “That’s exactly why you should be fucking me. That’s what husbands and wives do. They fuck for fun. They fuck to make each other happy. They fuck to make babies. If they don’t fuck, then they’re just roommates.”

  “There’s a little more to a marriage than that.”

  “Granted. But fucking is definitely one of the big ones. If I didn’t want to fuck you a lot, then I never would have married you. I didn’t marry you only for your exalted status and your brilliant personality. I also married you for your cock. If I’d known that I was going to be celibate in my marriage, I would never have pledged my troth to you.”

  Anger flashed in James’ eyes. “You weren’t celibate. We made love. As often as you wanted it. If you wanted it more often, you only had to ask.”

  “I didn’t want to have to ask. I wanted you to tell me that you wanted me. Your slaves don’t have to ask for you sexual favors. You go out to your kennels every day and fuck them silly whether they want it or not.”

  “You’re my wife. I’m not going to force myself on you. I expect you to let me know when you’re in the mood.”

  “Well, I climbed up on that auction block and offered myself to any man who wanted to buy me and fuck me as much as he could. That might have been a hint that I was in the mood.”

  “That was a hint that you didn’t want me any more.”

  “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! That was me was screaming that I did want you. I wanted you to buy me. I wanted you to take me right back here to your kennels and fuck me. I wanted you to keep fucking me every day just like all those other women that you keep in your kennels. I was telling you how much I wanted you.”

  “How did that work out for you?”

  “Lousy. You didn’t care enough about me to buy me. Hell, you didn’t care enough even to wait around and see who did want me. I sold for a hundred thousand plaqs. That’s how much someone else wanted me.”

  “And, since then, you’ve fucked half the men in the city. Aristocrats and commoners alike.”

  “I didn’t have much choice about that, did I? I tried to give that all to you and you–” She stopped and stared at him. “Is that why you’re not fucking me now? Because I was forced to fuck other men?”

  “It doesn’t seem right.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I’ve been to a lot of entertainments. Lords line up to fuck slaves, one gentleman after another. I know damn well that you’re no different. You have no problem fucking a cunt that’s overflowing with fresh cum from the three buddies who just finished with her but you won’t fuck me because I was with some guy last month?”

  “It’s different. You’re my wife.”

  “I’m a pleasure slave. You saw me auction myself into slavery. I don’t want you to fuck me like a wife. I want you to fuck me like your slave. Right here. Right now.” She tore her housedress off and stood before him, naked. “Here I am. Take me any way you want me. You think that I don’t know why you call your slaves Spark and Ember and Blaze? I’m Flame. Forget Irene. Fuck Flame!”

  Flame had been the name given to her by the auctioneer when he auctioned her off. James had never forgotten that his wife had been called Flame the last time that he’d seen her as a free woman.

  She’d been beautiful, standing on the auction block, naked and soon to be available to the man who was willing to pay enough for her.

  She was beautiful now, available only to him.

  He dumped his chair when he stood abruptly. Tore buttons from his shirt in his haste to bare his body. Didn’t bother unbuckling his pants before forcing them over his tight hips.

  He was naked in a few seconds.

  She sprang at him like a tiger, clutching him with the desperation of a drowning woman.

  He swept the table clear of the breakfast preparations with a crash of glass and china and steel, and laid her on her back.

  She spread her legs wide and pulled him top of her.

  She needed no foreplay; she was already wet.

  He needed no foreplay; he was already erect.

  He slid home in one smooth motion.

  She clutched at him with her arms, and legs, and cunt.

  He pushed hard, penetrating her as deeply as possible.

  She pushed back, grinding her vulva against his pelvis.

  He thrust.

  She ground and clenched.

  The both came so fast and hard that neither had a chance to come before the other.

  It was the first time that they’d fucked since she had sold herself into slavery and she couldn’t tell if he was fucking her as a slave or as his wife. But she didn’t care. It was good.

  * * *

  Irene was surprised when Sud told her that Lady Gaston was on the phone for her. It was three o’clock, the usual hour for social calls, but Irene was no lady. She didn’t expect social calls. Certainly not from an earl’s wife.

  “Irene speaking.”

  “Lady Fortson, this is Melanie Gaston.”

  “Just Irene, please. I haven’t been a lady for over a year.”

  “You’ll always be a lady to me. I remember how hard you worked on me and my mother to break up my infatuation with Sir Walden’s son and betroth me to Earl Gaston.”

  Irene had been in the middle of that bit of social engineering when she had sold herself into slavery. Her views about social status had been completely re-built since then. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that now. I’d encourage you to follow your heart instead of marrying an unsuitable man to please your family.”

  There was a minute of stunned silence on the other end of the phone, then Lady Melanie said, “I don’t understand. Baxter Walden was the unsuitable man. He might have been young and handsome, but he was never going to amount to much. He was perfect for a childish infatuation but not for a husband. If I’d married him, I would have grown more miserable every year. The earl may not be a dashing matinee idol star, but he’s good company. And in the couple of weeks since you taught me how to evoke his passion, he’s becoming a lot more fun in the bedroom.”

  It was Irene’s turn to be stunned into a moment of silence. Finally, she said, “I’m happy to hear that you’re happy with the earl. I feared that it wouldn’t work out. The truth is that I’ve felt a twinge of guilt every time I’ve thought about how I meddled in your life.”

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have accepted the earl’s proposal if I didn’t think that the benefits were going to outweigh the shortcomings. In the end, I made my own decision.”

  “I’m actually quite relieved to hear you say that.”

  “But that’s not why I’m calling. I wanted to know when you’re going to hold your next class.”

  “My next class?”

  “On how women can please their husbands. I have a couple of friends who are hoping that you have space for them Four friends, to be exact.”

  “Four?”

  “If you have room.”

  “Sure. How about next Tuesday?” She picked the day out of thin air. For her, any day was as good as any other.

  “Okay. Also, I’d like to tell them how much tuition you charge. I don’t recall what I paid, but I’m sure that you don’t offer this for free. Especially not when you supply the training materials.” She lowered her voice so that Irene had to press the phone hard to her ear to hear her. “Those weights are marvelous. I use them every day and I’m getting much stronger down there. The effect on the earl is amazing.”

  “Would your friends be offended if I asked for five hundred plaqs?”

  “They’d be getting a bargain. You’re lessons are priceless. And how much for the bag of materials?”

  “That would be another hundred.”

&n
bsp; “I’ll tell them that it costs six hundred plaqs total.”

  The following morning, Irene got another call, this one from Lady d’Angelo. “Last night, I heard that you’re offering your class again. I’ve got a couple of friends who’d like to take it.” She already knew that the tuition and materials cost six hundred plaqs.

  By the end of the day, she had received a half dozen calls, had filled the class for Tuesday, and had to schedule another class for the following Tuesday to accommodate the overflow.

  At five hundred plaqs profit per head, it looked like she could earn six thousand plaqs per class. Twenty-five thousand plaqs a month. Three hundred thousand plaqs per annum was not trivial. And she would re-invest it all in real estate. The pool of ladies in Westmouth was finite. She’d run out of students in about a year. But that year would give her a considerable chunk of capital. In a few years, she was going to be richer than she’d expected.

  She got on the phone to the slave supply service and placed an order for another two-dozen cunt weights, dildos, butt plugs, and tubes of lube.

  * * *

  Making love to James changed her life once again. Now that the dam was broken, the flood was released. James took Irene in her bed; in his bed; in the parlor; in the library. Everywhere.

  She took him in the billiard room; in the kennels pleasure room; even in the garden. Everywhere that he didn’t take her.

  She feared that they were scandalizing his pleasure slaves. And almost nothing scandalizes a pleasure slave. They weren’t getting much sex from Lord Fortson, but that wasn’t Irene’s problem. Slaves served at their owner’s pleasure and if Lord Fortson’s pleasure was to ignore them, then they would have to endure being ignored.