“One of my owners is a mechanic. He wants to start his own business. He needs a suitable building and hopes that you’ll rent one to him.”
“Does he understand my terms?”
“Yes. You don’t charge a fixed rent. Instead, you take a share of the profits.”
“Twenty percent is my standard share. I won’t reduce that, even for you. Nor will I change the terms of the lease.”
“I’m not asking for that.”
“One of my terms is that if his business is not profitable after two years and if I don’t see sufficient profit potential, I can terminate the lease unilaterally. He understands that?”
“I’ll explain it to him.”
“Also, he cannot unilaterally terminate the lease later. He’ll be locked into it.”
“I warned him that the rent will be higher than market rates if his business is successful. He said that he’ll accept that.”
“I have only one question, then. You understand that I have to pay tax on the property even if I don’t get any rent from him? I’m going to take a loss until your friend can start paying a fair rent. If you were me, if it was your property, if it were your money at stake, then would you rent to him?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t hesitate. He’s a well-respected mechanic and knows the business. He’ll be successful.”
“You’re certain that you’d be willing to risk your own money on this?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
“Okay. I have a couple of properties that he can look at. One is currently vacant. The other is being rented but I’ll terminate the lease if he wants that one.”
“I’m not sure that Jack would want to see someone put out of business.”
“The guy would rather get drunk every afternoon than sell cars. I’m going to terminate his lease at the end of the month whether your friend takes the property or not.”
“Okay, then. Thank you.”
Dodge handed her a piece of paper. “These are the addresses. As soon as your friend decides which one he wants, he can come over and sign a lease. The vacant one has a key in a lockbox. The combination is written on the paper so he can get inside and look it over.”
She smiled. “We could shake on the deal, but I’d rather seal it with sex. Can I give you a blowjob or would you rather bend me over the desk and fuck me properly?” She recalled that Dodge always liked to take her from behind.
“Either would be wonderful. What would you prefer?”
She spread her legs and bent over the desk.
He wasted no time coming around the desk and sinking his cock deep into her cunt.
She began massaging him with slow contractions of the powerful muscles in her vulva.
He had been her owner before she had trained herself to do that and didn’t expect it. He gasped in surprise and pleasure and began thrusting in time to her contractions.
They took more pleasure in each other than either had thought possible.
* * *
When Irene answered the knock on her door, she was surprised to find Adele’s boyfriend, Clovis, standing alone on her threshold.
“Isn’t Adele with you?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you. She gave me your address.” He was staring at her naked body.
She was surprised that Adele would give her boyfriend the home address of a pleasure slave. “What do you expect from me?”
“I just want to talk.”
“About what?”
“Politics.”
“I’m not interested in politics.”
“I am. And you know more about the aristocracy than I do. I mean, I know all the theory, but you know more about the practical inner workings of power. You’ve actually met the lords and marquettes and earls. Maybe even the governor.”
“I haven’t met the governor, only seen him from a distance three or four times.” In fact, the last time that she’d seen him had been at the auction where she’d been sold into slavery. Fortunately, he’d left after the first sale and hadn’t stayed around to bid on her at the end. Otherwise she might have become one of his dozens of slaves, servicing an endless stream of guests at the legendary orgies that he hosted most nights. His slaves were little better than whores.
“But earls. You’ve met earls.”
“Some of them.” There were ten earls in Westmouth. Irene had met about half of them. “As a lady, I sometimes danced with them. As a slave, I’ve been on my knees in front of them, sucking their cocks. Both experiences were about the same. There was no politics involved. Just pleasure. Mostly their pleasure, which was greater when they got their cocks sucked than when they danced with me, for sure.”
Clovis looked apoplectic.
Irene took satisfaction in his expression. As a pleasure slave, she was free to shock men by being as crude as she wanted. That joy that was denied to fine and proper ladies.
“Can I come in?” He was almost stuttering.
“No, sir. That would not be seemly.” Now she used the tone of a fine lady. “What would Adele think of me if I let her boyfriend into my apartment? I’m not even dressed.”
Clovis had been ogling her nude body all the time that he had been standing on her threshold. Her bald cunt fascinated him. “Uhh.”
“You don’t own me, you know. And you don’t have my owner’s permission to fuck me.”
“Uhh.”
She sighed. “If you really want to talk to me, you can take me out for a coffee.”
“Uhh… Okay.”
She left the door open while she went to the bedroom to fetch her housedress.
When she picked it up and turned back, she found Clovis blocking her bedroom door. He hadn’t stayed outside the apartment as instructed. Leaving the door open was a bad mistake and now she had a problem. In retrospect, it would have been better if she hadn’t continually taunted him by talking about all the sex she had with aristocrats.
“Let’s go get that coffee,” she said.
“Drop the dress,” he replied.
She tossed the dress aside. “What are you thinking?”
He said nothing. He strode into her bedroom, grabbed her arms, and threw her on her back on the bed.
She didn’t dare fight him. He had no right to her body – he didn’t own her – but a slave who injured a person would be nailed to the courthouse wall and left to die. It could take days.
“I’ll give you whatever you want,” she said.
“Shut up.”
She shut up.
He jerked his pants to his ankles to release his erection and crawled on top of her.
The rape was the least satisfying sex that either of them would ever experience. He had barely penetrated her when he lost control and came in quick hot spurts.
He collapsed on top of her and sobbed once in shame and frustration.
Her life depended on what she did next. He might decide to put his hands to her throat and squeeze the life from her, just to make sure that his unmanly performance never became fodder for gossip.
She grabbed him and hugged him tight. “This is okay. This is what a pleasure slave is for. This is what men do with me. Now, when you’re ready, we can go get that cup of coffee that you promised me.”
“I don’t… I can’t…”
“Shush. When men come to me, they can do what they want with me. I told you that I’d give you what you wanted. Now you got it so it’s all okay.”
“You’re just so beautiful. I couldn’t help it.”
“I know. That’s why I’m a pleasure slave.”
“You really want to go for coffee now?”
“More than ever.”
He crawled off her and pulled his pants back up.
She slid off the bed and slipped her housedress on. She turned from him to hide her expression of relief.
He let her lead him out of the apartment. He was subdued. Passive. He had learned something ugly about himself and it was going to take him some time to process it.
The nearest diner
was three blocks away. They didn’t speak. They had a lot to say to each other but he didn’t know how to get the words out and she wanted to wait until they were in a safe, public place.
Heads turned when they came through the door. Heads always turned when a pleasure slave entered the room. Irene ignored it and led Clovis to a booth in the farthest corner.
The waitress brought a pot of coffee and two cups without being asked. Irene told her that they would be having only the coffee this morning. The waitress looked relieved that she wouldn’t have to serve any more than that to a slave.
When the waitress was gone, Irene took a sip of her coffee, and then said, “Now you’ve got a decision to make.”
Clovis raised his head to look at her. “What’s that?”
“You forced yourself on me. There’s no question about that. I told you clearly that you didn’t have permission to fuck me, and that you should not come into my apartment. The question is, what did your action mean?”
“What?”
“If I’m nothing but a piece of property, as the law says, then I can’t be raped. I don’t own my body so I can neither give nor deny permission for you to use me for sex. If I’m nothing but property, then your transgression was using me without my owner’s permission. A rather small crime. Little more than a matter of etiquette between you and my owner. But if I’m a person, as you were arguing over lunch the other day, if I’m a human being with an inherent right to say what can be done with my body, then you are a rapist. If you believe that the aristocrats’ laws about slavery are evil and should be disregarded, then you should be hung for the capital crime of rape.” She fixed him in the eye. “So what is it? Are you nothing but a rude boy or are you a rapist?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do that to you. I didn’t mean to do it. I just couldn’t stop myself.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Did you fail to stop yourself from stealing a bit of property or did you fail to stop yourself from raping an unwilling person?”
“You said that it was okay. Afterward. Afterward you said that it was okay. You know. That is was okay that I did what I wanted to do.”
“Yes, I did. Under the law, it is okay. I am a slave. You can’t be arrested or prosecuted for rape. But that’s not the question that you have to answer. The question that you have to answer is whether you think that it was okay.” She held up her hand. “I don’t expect you to tell me. Frankly, I don’t give a damn. But it’s a question that you have to answer yourself.”
“I’m not a rapist.”
“Then I must be a piece of property.”
He shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
“You can’t have it both ways. But I’m not interested in hearing you argue or rationalize. That’s a matter for your conscience. There are only two things that I do give a damn about.”
“What’s that?”
“First, you don’t ever come to my apartment again. Never. You don’t pass me on the street. You don’t go into a room if you see that I’m there. I never want to see you again. Ever.”
He seemed to shrivel a little in his seat.
“Second, you break up with Adele. I sacrificed a lot to make sure that she wouldn’t be enslaved. She deserves a better man than you. You’re going to tell her exactly that. You’re going to say that she deserves a better man than you, and then you’re going to tell her that she should find one. That you can’t see her any more.”
He raised his chin. “You can’t make me do that.”
“Like hell I can’t. I brought three lords into court to protect her. I kept her out of the hands of the wealthiest knight in Westmouth. An hour ago, you said that I understood the practicalities of power. That I knew earls and marquettes and lords personally. You are absolutely right about that. And they know me. I can have you squashed like a bug. I’ll have you adjudicated into slavery on a trumped-up charge and sold to a fishing boat and you’ll be dead – tangled in a net and drowned at sea – within a year.”
Clovis’ face drained white.
“Any time you think that’s an idle threat, you remember two things. That I brought three lords into court to save Adele; and that you raped me. Even if the law doesn’t think so, even if you don’t think so, I do. I felt like I was being raped. So that’s the condition that I’m imposing for the sake of justice. You stay away from both Adele and me forever and the world will be made right again.”
She stood up.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
* * *
All twelve of her owners were present for the monthly meeting in the back room of the Split Willow. For the past couple of meetings, one or another of the men hadn’t been able to make it. She hadn’t seen a hundred percent attendance since the first meeting.
Even Jim was there and he’d been working double shifts since he’d had to lay off Jack. He hadn’t even had time to use her on his most recent day. As nearly as she could remember, it had been the first day in a year of slavery that she’d not had anyone come around.
There was an air of anxious excitement among the men. Irene didn’t know what was afoot but the men were huddled in small groups, whispering to each other.
“We’re all here,” Jack said, loudly, “and we know why, so let’s get right to the point.”
The men settled down and turned to look at him.
“Some of us think that it’s time to sell Irene.”
The blood drained from her face. She should have seen this coming but it had taken her by surprise.
“I don’t think that we should,” George said. For a man who usually said little, his voice was loud and clear. “She’s been good to us in every way. She deserves better than to be put on the auction block.”
“I agree,” Tim said. “After all she’s done for us, we can’t just sell her to the highest bidder.”
“Of course we can,” Caleb said. “That’s what happens to slaves. They get bought and sold. That’s part of their life. Besides, she hasn’t done all that much for us. I mean, sure, she did what she was supposed to do. Gave us good service. But we knew that we weren’t going to keep her forever. Sooner or later you trade in your car, sell your old stove, move to a new house. This is no different.”
“It’s different,” Jim said. “She’s not a car or a stove. She’s got feelings. But I have to sell her anyway. I need the money. I’ve got to look out for my family first. That’s just the way it is. If that aristocrat hadn’t screwed me, I wouldn’t be voting to sell her. But I got no choice.”
“That’s right,” Caleb said. “She was an aristocrat herself. She knows how it works. And it’ll probably be some other aristocrat who buys her. She’s going back to her own. It won’t be so bad for her.”
“Well, I don’t want to sell my share of her,” Tim said. “You can put eleven-twelfths of her on the block if you want, but you can’t make me sell my share.”
“Yes, we can,” Jack said. “For the purposes of legal ownership, they only let us put one name on the registration papers. That was me. I can sign her over for sale even if the rest of you object. I won’t. Under our agreement, I’ll only do what the majority agrees on. If seven of us vote to sell, then I’ll sell her and we’ll split the money equally. None of you can block the sale alone.”
“That’s fair,” Luke said.
“It’s not that fair,” Ox replied. “Having a slave is special. It’s not something that any of us can do on our own. We won’t get this opportunity again.” He really liked his anal threesomes.
“It’s special, all right,” Willy said. “So special that my wife is going to leave me if I don’t sell her. I promised Mattie that I’d get rid of the slave so I have to do it, one way or the other. If we don’t all sell her together, then I’m going to have to sell my share.”
“Me, too,” Luke said.
“You guys are all pussy whipped,” Paul said. “You got to stand up to your women or they’re going to walk all over you. I don’t let Heather tell me what to d
o. That’s for damn sure.” He, too, liked his threesomes with Irene and his mistress.
Irene had no idea what his wife knew about her and Judy. Heather had not been one of the wives who had come to her apartment and threatened her.
“Not wanting to cheat on my wife any more isn’t being pussy whipped,” Jim said. “It’s taking proper care of my family.” His face was flushed and his voice angry.
Jack held up his hands. “Look, we all have strong feelings about this. But arguing isn’t going to change anyone’s mind. Everyone here knows how he’s going to vote so let’s do it and get it over with. All in favor of selling the slave Irene, raise your hands.” He took a quick count. “Opposed?”
Four men were opposed – George who owed her his niece’s freedom; Ox who liked his threesomes; Paul who was happy to screw other women behind his wife’s back; and Ernie who was young and lived with his parents and found the slave a grand adventure.
Seven men wanted to sell her. A clear majority.
Irene’s heart fell. She was to be sold.
She noticed that Tim had not raised his hand either way. He was conflicted. He was too nice to want to sell her, but too nice to want to keep visiting her behind his wife’s back, either.
“The vote carries,” Paul said. “She is to be sold at the next auction.”
Irene’s heart fell. This had been a good gig.
“Wait a minute,” Tim said. “The vote was to sell her. Nobody said anything about an auction.”
“That was understood,” Jack said.
“If it was understood, then it should have been said,” Tim replied. “I propose that we sell her in a private sale. We can find someone nice to sell her to. Someone who will treat her well.”
“How much do you think we should sell her for?” Jim asked.
“What we paid for her.”
“I don’t think so. She’s told us from the beginning that we got a bargain. That she’s worth more than eighteen thousand.” Jim needed all the money that he could get after Sir Anthony shafted him.
“Okay, then we offer her for twenty-five thousand. If we find someone that wants to buy her, we can negotiate the price.”
Owners by the Dozen (Slave of the Aristocracy Book 4) Page 15