A Gentlemen's Agreement (6 page)

* * *

“Say one word and I’ll have my
whiphand
gag you.” Lord Snow glowered at Irene.

She kept her mouth shut and her
eyes lowered. It was bad enough to have to come to the pleasure room in a
housedress rather than naked. It would be worse if she had to be gagged, too.

“Now, I’m going to talk and you’re
going to listen. Got that?”

She nodded silently.

“Good. I’m going to change things
a little around here. I’m giving you a job.”

She raised her eyes to look at him
but still did not speak.

“I’ve decided to make you my
director of entertainments. When you were a lady, you always liked games. Now
it’s your job. When I entertain men after dinner, you are going to organize the
entertainment. You remember when all the slaves at Lord Hoffman’s party were
masked and we had to try to guess who you were? Gentlemen are still talking
about that game. I want you to organize entertainments that are just as
memorable. They don’t have to be games. They can be shows or reviews. Whatever
you think will be fun. My only requirement is that you organize something more
than the typical offering of a buffet of slaves.”

Irene smiled happily. She was
going to get laid again. She could hardly wait.

“There’s only one stipulation.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not to make yourself
available to the guests. The other slaves service the guests. Not you. You’re
the referee, not a player. You’re the playwright, not one of the actors.”

Irene’s heart sank in her chest.
She was never going to have a man’s cock inside her. Not as long as Lord Snow
had his way. And a slave’s owner always had his way.

He was the cruelest man on earth.

“You will not be naked at the
entertainments. I’ll supply you with a costume that will make your status
clear.”

A chastity belt, most likely
, she thought.

“Do you have any questions?”

“What about Nickel?” she asked.

“That doesn’t change. She’s still
my
whiphand
. She still maintains order in the kennel
on my behalf. You’ll continue to obey her as you would obey me.”

I’ll continue to keep licking her cunt every day,
Irene thought.
She was sure that Lord Snow didn’t know about that duty. She wondered if he
would care. He didn’t want her getting fucked by men, but getting on her knees
and licking a woman’s cunt was a whole different affair. He probably wouldn’t
bat an eyelash.

Except that, if he were to see for
himself the former wife of a lord administering such a humiliating service,
he’d probably have to drag three slaves into the pleasure room and make them
squeal in delight all afternoon to quench his lust.

“She’ll help you manage the other
slaves. If any slave disobeys you or fails to perform to your standards, you
may either punish her yourself or ask Nickel to discipline her.”

“What If I need something? Masks
or dice or dildos?”

“The kennel service will provide
supplies for the games. They’ll have requisition forms. When you need
something, fill one out and give it to your
kennelman
.”

Irene had no more questions.

“Okay. Your first entertainment will
be on Saturday. Do you think you can organize something by then?”

That was four days from today. “I
will.”

“Good. Now go tell Nickel that I
want to see her.”

Irene found Nickel in her cell.
“Lord Snow wants to see you in the pleasure room.”

“Me?” She looked shocked. “Have
you got him all riled up again?”

Nickel was remembering the
previous two times that Lord Snow had spoken with Irene in the pleasure room.
After both times, he had demanded that slaves rush to him and slake his ardor
with an hour of enthusiastic service as soon as Irene left. Nickel would be far
less likely than the other slaves to enjoy that duty. “I don’t know. He’s
waiting.”

Nickel hurried to attend to her
duties, whatever they might be today.

Irene needed to think of an
entertainment for Saturday evening. She found Cherry sitting alone in the
kitchen.

She sat across from her. “You’ve
been at more entertainments than me. Tell me about them.”

“What’s to tell?” Cherry asked.
“They’re all about the same. You get led into the billiard room with the other
slaves. The gentlemen fuck you however they like. You do what they say and keep
it up until they get tired. You get led back to the kennel.”

“Have you ever been in any
entertainments that were different? That stood out in any way?”

“Not really.”

“Do you ever start out with a
little sex show?”

“Huh?”

“You know. A couple of the slaves
demonstrate a little girl-on-girl action before moving on to the men.” Irene’s
previous owner did that once. And when she was doing solo entertainments, she
usually started with a kind of pantomime about starting as a lady and
descending into slavery.

“I never heard of that. We go
there for the gentlemen to use, not to get each other off.” She frowned. “Not
that we would. Nickel is the only one of us who likes to get her cunt licked by
another woman and she always does that in private. She wouldn’t consider doing
anything like that in front of gentlemen. They’d probably beat her half to death
for getting off without them.”

They probably wouldn’t. One thing
that Irene had learned from experience was that a lot of gentlemen enjoy seeing
two women together. They don’t care if the women like it or not, as long as they
go at each other with enthusiasm.

Now she knew why her previous
owner had become known for his entertainments. Also, it explained why, the one
time that Lord Hoffman had hired a professional entertainment director to stage
a sex game, it had been so notable that gentlemen were still talking about it
months later.

It seemed that it wouldn’t take
much effort to make Lord Snow’s after-dinner entertainments a lot more
entertaining.

Muffled sounds were beginning to
come from the pleasure room where Nickel was cosseted with Lord Snow. The
whiphand’s
predilection for female service didn’t matter to
the lord. The sounds indicated that he was doing a lot more than talking
business in there. Nickel wasn’t expressing her pleasure with exuberant squeals
as the other slaves had. She was grunting loudly enough to penetrate the heavy
door.

She didn’t sound happy at all.

Cherry and Irene’s eyes met and
they exchanged cheerful smiles.

“Pity that Peach is still up at
the manor. She’d enjoy this,” Cherry said.

“I’m enjoying it enough for both
of us,” Irene replied. Since arriving, servicing Nickel had been a duty that
was no longer shared among the slaves, but was reserved for her, exclusively.

“I’m sure you are.” Cherry
giggled. “If Lord Snow is as lusty with her as he was with the two of us
yesterday, Nickel is getting the workout of her life.”

A sharp crack was followed by a
shuddering groan.

“That’s the sound of strap on ass,
if I’m not mistaken,” Cherry said.

Another
crack
and groan.

“Not at full force – Lord
Snow is a strong man – but not a gentle one, either.”

Crack! Groan.

“He’s got her full attention now,
no question about that.”

Lime and Tamarind entered the
kitchen. Their duties at the manor were complete for the day and they’d stopped
by their cells to shed their housedresses. Slaves weren’t allowed to sit around
the kennels clothed, even briefly.

Another crack of the strap was
followed by a shaper groan. This one rose in pitch at the end, edging toward a
scream.

“What’s happening?” Tamarind
asked.

“Nickel is servicing Lord Snow,”
Irene said.

“Irene was in there, raising his
lust again.” Cherry giggled.

This time the crack of the strap
was followed by a definite scream.

“Nickel is getting her ass
tenderized by the sound of it,” Lime said. “I wonder if he’s using her own
strap on her.”

Apple and Peach entered in time to
hear Lime’s comment.

“I hope so,” Apple said as she
took a seat.

Peach said nothing, just glared at
Irene. She hadn’t yet forgiven her for getting her cunt tenderized. Even though
it had been her doing, not Irene’s.

Irene didn’t care. If Peach tried
to start something again, then Nickel would tenderize her cunt again. Peach
suspected that all Irene had to do was make a false accusation, either to Lord
Snow during one of their private consultations, or to Nickel after eating out her
cunt, and either one of them would visit a terrible punishment on her. Neither
would bother with an investigation or trial.

Irene thought that Peach’s fears were
well-founded
.

What Peach didn’t yet know, what
none of the other slaves yet knew, was that Irene, having been made the
director of entertainment, now had the power to take any one of them on a long
tour through hell any time she wanted.

She might just do that, not to
punish anyone, but to amuse the gentlemen in some way that they had never been amused
before.

It was beginning to dawn on her
that she had been given more power over the other slaves than even that which was
wielded by Nickel.

The strapping had stopped and now
an undulating howl was piercing the door. It didn’t sound like pain, precisely,
but it didn’t sound happy, either. It sounded primal like an animal caught in a
trap and discovering that it had nowhere to run.

Irene wondered if Nickel took the
trouble to keep her asshole stretched and lubed.
Maybe not.
Probably she thought that no one would dare to use Lord Snow’s
whiphand
that way.

Just for a moment, Irene felt a
pang of pity for Nickel.

Just for a moment.

* * *

The five slaves – Peach, Apple, Cherry, Lime, and
Tamarind – were beautiful and utterly nude, but every gentleman in the
room was eyeing Irene. She looked stunning in a gold
lamé
catsuit
as she stood on a foot-high platform near the
entrance to the billiard room. Gentlemen grew hard just staring at her.

Though covered from collar to
ankles, the elastic fabric fit so snugly that it could have been painted on. Every
muscle was perfectly delineated. Her body was a visible as if she
were
nude, but the metallic sheen made her appear armored
– inaccessible for carnal use.

It was a costume designed simultaneously
to tempt and to frustrate the male libido.

She had to give Lord Snow credit.
He had chosen the perfect costume for his director of entertainment. The
degrading golden collar around her neck looked like it was part of the costume.
Just a bit of jewelry added to complement the dress.

She assumed that Lord Snow had
consulted a professional designer. No highborn gentleman would know this much
about haut couture.

The gentlemen’s reaction to her
appearance made her proud of her body. It had been lovely when she was a lady,
but now with her diet strictly controlled, it was trim and fit enough to stun
gentlemen into drooling silence.

The other slaves watched her with
naked envy.
And no small amount of trepidation.
And some considerable anger.

“Gentlemen, if I can have your
attention, please.” It was a silly thing to say. Not one of the dozen men had given
their attention to anything else since she had walked into the billiard room.

“I am Lord Snow’s director of
entertainment. Tonight, I offer these five slaves for your enjoyment. But,
before we start, I’d like you to understand their situation.

“These poor slaves are starving.
They received no food yesterday
nor
today. Not one of
them has had a single bite to eat since dinner on Thursday. Not a single bite.
Their bellies are as empty as empty can be.

“You can be certain that they
noticed the buffet of wonderful canapés by the far wall as soon as they entered
the room. You can be certain that they smell those delicious odors wafting
across the room. If you look closely, you can see their noses twitching. Their
mouths are watering freely. Some of them are even drooling down their chins.”
She turned to Cherry and wiped a drop of spittle that was hanging from the
corner of her mouth. She had intended to mime the action with a pretend bit of
drool, but found that she didn’t have to. Cherry was salivating so much that it
was dribbling out of her mouth. And she wasn’t the only one.

“These slave’s mouths will be
plenty sloppy when you choose to use them that way.” There was light laughter
from the gentlemen. “And you can expect them to swallow what you deposit with
exceptional gusto tonight.” More laughter. “Don’t be surprised if they thank
you for the delicious treat with tears of gratitude in their eyes.” The
gentlemen found her hilarious.

“Of course, these slaves wouldn’t
dare touch the canapés that we have provided for you. They would starve
themselves to death, first.” She wasn’t entirely sure about that, but the
gentlemen would believe it. “But if you find that a slave is giving you exceptional
service. If she has given you pleasure beyond your usual expectations, you may
choose to reward her with a morsel. Tonight, gentlemen, you will have these
slaves eating out of your hand.”

There was scattered applause that
swelled into an ovation.

“But these slaves will have an
additional incentive to please you. At the end of the entertainment, you will
be asked to indicate which one of these slaves provided the most pleasurable
service. The slave who is least appreciated will endure a third day of
starvation. She will be forced to watch the others eat breakfast and dinner
tomorrow, but will not be permitted to put even a single crumb in her mouth
until Monday morning.