Slave Of The Aristocracy: A Gentlemen's Agreement Part 8

"h.e.l.l," Apple said, "you can't keep that thing inside you."

"You can't, but I can," Irene said. "I've developed the muscles to do it. It's made of light plastic. Without any weights attached, it's an eighth of an ounce. Your box contains weights that screw into each other and into the base of the device. You can increase the weight in eighth-ounce increments until it weighs half a pound. But you won't be able to hold that much. The most that I've ever been able to hold if five ounces and that takes an extraordinary effort."

"Yeah?" Apple said. "Well, if you're so keen on this, where's your weights?"

"Inside me," Irene said and reached between her legs to let her weights drop into her hand. She held it up. "I have three ounces attached. See?" She turned it to show the bra.s.s weights screwed into the bottom. As she unscrewed them, she recited, "An eighth weight added to the original eighth makes a quarter. Plus a quarter makes a half. Plus a half makes one ounce, plus the two ounces makes three." She rea.s.sembled the weights and reinserted them back into herself. She spread her legs slightly to make certain that the others understood that she wasn't squeezing it with her thighs but was holding it in place with her c.u.n.t muscles alone.

The other slaves stared in amazement.

"Three ounces takes a considerable effort," Irene said. "I put it in when I left my cell and I've had to keep concentrating on my c.u.n.t all the time that I've been talking to you. I can do this because I've been practicing for about a half hour a day every day for months. You won't be able to do it right away, but if you keep working at it every day, you'll get strong enough to do the same thing."

"Why would we want to do that?" Lime asked the question. Irene thought that she was sincerely curious and not trying to heckle her.

"A couple of reasons. First, you can please a man better if your c.u.n.t is stronger. You can squeeze his c.o.c.k when he's inside you. I can mount a man, both of us can stay motionless, and I can ma.s.sage him with my c.u.n.t until he climaxes. Believe me, men find that really pleasurable.

"More interesting, it will make s.e.x better for you. If you can manipulate the c.o.c.k when it's inside you, you can get more stimulation from it. You can come easier and more reliably. And not just when you're doing the motionless stimulation trick. You can keep working him with your c.u.n.t while he's thrusting away. The feeling can be quite delightful for you.

"Third, you want to do that because I intend to feature it in an entertainment some day. We're going to have a compet.i.tion a kind of c.u.n.t Olympics and you don't want to be the loser. The penalty will be quite unpleasant. I lost a compet.i.tion at an entertainment once and I was rewarded with the worst half hour of my life. I shudder at the memory. I really recommend that you work hard because you do not want to be the weakest c.u.n.t in the room when the games begin."

The slaves looked at each other and then began inserting the weights back inside themselves and trying to hold them.

Irene explained about how to tighten their v.u.l.v.as as though they were trying to hold back urination and was gratified to see that, one-by-one, the slaves figured out how to hold the un-weighted d.i.l.d.o for a minute or two.

Nickel seemed to be doing a little better than the others, but that was to be expected. She had known about c.u.n.t weights for more than a month. Likely she had been flexing her muscles once in a while since then, just for amus.e.m.e.nt.

It was time for Irene to leave them alone to work on their technique.

When she walked back to her cell, all the other slaves watched her with new respect. If they hadn't seen, with their own eyes, her a.s.semble and insert three ounces, they wouldn't have believed that she was walking around with it inside her.

It was like a miracle.

Irene entered the billiard room alone. Her gold lame catsuit sparkled under the spotlight.

Every eye in the room ogled her with undisguised l.u.s.t.

c.o.c.ks were getting hard in antic.i.p.ation of a delight that they knew they would never be permitted to enjoy.

Irene wished with all her heart that she would be permitted to fulfill their desires but that pleasure was denied her.

"Gentlemen," she said, "I have some bad news. I don't have any slaves here to service you."

"You're a slave," someone blurted.

"Yes, and I would love to relieve you of your heavy load, but as director of entertainment, that I am not permitted that joy."

There were groans of disappointment. She suspected that, after last week, word had circulated that she was forbidden fruit. But, hope springs eternal in the male libido.

"I was supposed to bring a bunch of eager slaves with me. But I have failed you." She hung her head in mock shame.

A couple of men booed, but only because it was expected. They didn't sound angry. They were confident that Lord Snow would provide them with some kind of satisfaction before long.

"As I was bringing nine slaves over here, the tricky devils escaped into the garden. Right now they are all out there hiding somewhere. Will you help me find them?"

There was a round of l.u.s.ty cheers.

She gestured to the table. "Please, good sirs, help me out. Grab one of these leashes and capture one of those nine mischievous nymphs."

She opened the door to the garden and stood aside.

The gentlemen wasted no time filing out of the room, each grabbing a leash on their way by.

Lord Snow was the last to leave. He said nothing but grinned and winked at her. He didn't bother taking a leash. It would be his guests' pleasure to capture slaves to sate their l.u.s.t.

Irene stepped out to watch the fun, ready to provide guidance or intervene, should anything unexpected come to pa.s.s.

The garden was lit by torches. The dim, flickering light provided plenty of hiding places.

She was relieved that the weather was good. Her backup plan had been to have the slaves hide in the billiard room, under furniture and behind curtains, but that would have been a far less interesting game.

The garden was almost three acres and had a variety of shrubs and trees, as well as a garden shed and a greenhouse.

She had told the slaves that they were not to hide inside any of the buildings. They could climb the trees if they liked but were warned that they were to come down voluntarily if spotted. She didn't want any slaves to be pushed out of trees. More important, she didn't want to any aristocrats to climb up after them and risk falling.

The slaves were permitted to flee, but had to stop running if ordered. And they were not to resist or fight under any circ.u.mstances. Once they were touched, they were to fall to their knees and wait to be leashed.

They seemed to understand and were in a light mood when they were scattering to find hiding places under bushes and in distant corners.

It didn't take long before one gentleman shouted to another and Lime squealed as she was flushed out from behind a tree. She ran several steps before one of the gentlemen grabbed her arm.

She immediately dropped to her knees and began begging for mercy.

The gentlemen were laughing as they clipped a chain around her neck.

Irene had imagined that the gentlemen would bring the captured slaves back to the billiard room where they could f.u.c.k them in comfort. That was not to be. One gentleman pushed Lime onto her back on the gra.s.s and held her down. Two other gentlemen grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs apart while the first gentleman dropped on her and proceeded to rape her.

It wasn't exactly rape. Lime fully expected to be used by many men tonight. But having her legs forced apart was a surprise. She knew what was expected and began shrieking in mock horror at the gentlemen's brutality.

Irene had to laugh because she was screaming that she was a virgin and was begging them not to rape her.

The note of wry humor in her tone carried across the garden.

The other slaves, still in hiding, understood the game that Lime had devised and, when they were caught in turn, begged the men not to rape them. Some claimed to be ladies, some faithful to their husbands. One even claimed to be a nun.

Many of them broke into laugher along with the men who were defiling them.

Irene was fascinated by the eagerness of the slaves to partic.i.p.ate in their rape. She supposed that it was the first time since being enslaved that any of them had been allowed to tell a man that they did not want to be violated.

Though they knew that their protests were going to be ignored, simply being allowed to express them, even in jest, gave them a feeling of freedom.

The gentlemen were cooperating in groups of two and three to hunt, capture, and rape the slaves, so, once all the slaves had been flushed, there were enough to satisfy everyone.

Irene wandered about and counted heads. Lord Snow noticed and walked with her. He was concerned that the gentlemen, having been incited to rape slaves, might get carried away and grab her, too.

It was a reasonable concern.

Irene counted only eight slaves. She went back and counted again. Same result. One was missing.

She looked at the faces.

The three borrowed slaves were all in a group under a spreading oak tree. Apparently, they had stayed together when they hid. One was on her hands and knees, being b.u.g.g.e.red. The other two were on their backs, their hands pinned over their heads by one gentleman while another f.u.c.ked them enthusiastically.

Peach was entertaining three men behind a huckleberry bush.

Apple was leaning against the side of the tool shed, arms and legs spread wide to admit one man in her c.u.n.t while another was sodomizing her a.s.shole. She had dropped any pretense of rape and seemed to be enjoying the double penetration.

Lime was still on her back, being raped by one of the three gentlemen who had first captured her. No one was bothering to hold her legs apart now. The other two were lounging beside her, relaxing in post-o.r.g.a.s.mic satisfaction.

Tamarind was bent over the back of a lawn chair while four men were taking turns at her. It seemed that they were all happy with her c.u.n.t and were leaving her a.s.shole alone. But there was still plenty of time for that to change.

Cherry was playing at some kind of gang rape loop. She was surrounded by a half-dozen guys in a loose circle. Every time one of them finished raping her, she'd lie there for a minute, then spring up and start running. One of the guys on the perimeter would grab her; drag her, screaming and protesting, to the middle of the circle; lay her on her back; and start raping her anew. Judging by the enthusiasm of her squealing, she seemed to like the game. Irene noticed that she always "accidently" ran toward the guy who had the biggest hard-on.

Nickel was nowhere to be seen.

Irene figured that, being the slave who was the least interested in being used by a gentleman, she'd hidden herself most carefully. Probably, she had climbed high into one of the trees and escaped notice.

That was all right. According to the rules, any slave who managed to hide in the garden for the duration of the evening would be excused from the entertainment. They wouldn't have to reveal themselves until the gentlemen had retired.

But, as the evening wore on and the gentlemen wore themselves out, Irene's suspicions began to grow. She kept glancing into the trees as she strolled about, but didn't see Nickel. The slave had hidden herself very well. Too well.

Irene slipped into the kennel and padded softly toward Nickel's cell. She was not surprised to find the cell door closed and the light switch, located outside the cell was on.

Slaves never bothered closing their doors when the were out of their cells.

Irene didn't bother opening the door. She turned the lock, switched off the light, and then returned to the garden.

The gentlemen never did bring the slaves back to the billiard room. As the hour grew late and they grew tired, they abandoned their "victims" and retired to the billiard room without them.

The abandoned slaves stayed in the garden, available to any gentlemen who still wanted them. There were few takers.

When the last of the gentlemen left the field, Irene and Lord Snow joined them in the billiard room.

The men broke into spontaneous applause when Irene pa.s.sed through the door.

She smiled and waited until the applause died down. "Gentlemen, thank you for that. It is my policy to offer myself for punishment if I have failed to please you. If you think that I have failed to provide a better-than-average entertainment tonight, then you may raise your hands now and I will ask Lord Snow to punish me by imposing a three-day fast on me."

She had decided that the fast would be her standard punishment for failing to please rather than a beating because the gentlemen might choose to see her beaten just for their amus.e.m.e.nt. A fast would give them no special entertainment.

Not a single gentleman raised his hand.

"Thank you so much, kind gentlemen. I do love my meals and having to wait until Wednesday to eat breakfast would have been an excruciating ordeal."

There was a bit of light laughter at that, mostly from surprise. The gentlemen hadn't appreciated how long a three-day fast was. It was Sat.u.r.day night; Wednesday was half a week away.

An earl that Irene had met two or three times when she was a lady, Earl Bloklas, said, "Please thank your slaves for us. They put on a most enjoyable show. Most enjoyable."

Irene was shocked. She had never before heard a gentleman say that he wanted to show grat.i.tude to a slave. "My lord, you are so gracious that you steal my breath away. I will certainly tell them that they were appreciated. When they see you again, they will be delighted to show you how welcome you are."

There was another round of applause, peppered with enthusiastic "Hear! Hear!"

Irene waited until Lord Snow had herded his guests out of the billiard room. She wondered how the gentlemen proposed to explain their dirty, gra.s.s-stained clothes to their wives.

Most likely the issue would never arise. Their wives would know better than to ask indelicate questions about what had happened in the billiard room after dinner.

She found most of the slaves were gathered in the kitchen, waiting for their turn in the shower. Out of courtesy, they let the borrowed slaves shower first because cars were waiting to take them back to their own kennels.

"Aren't you all a lot of dirty slaves," she said with a grin.

They chuckled a little.

"The gentlemen asked me to give you their thanks for a fine entertainment."

The slaves looked puzzled.

"I know," Irene said. "I've never heard of a gentleman bothering to thank a slave, either, but Earl Bloklas himself asked me to thank you all. Pretending that you were being raped pretending that you could be raped was inspired. I'm grateful to Lime for coming up with that idea and to all of you for catching on and playing along. I don't know how we're going to top this entertainment, but we'll have to try."

"Just don't starve us again," Lime said.

"Been there, done that," Irene answered. "Every entertainment has to be a surprise. We won't be repeating ourselves."

"How long do you think you can keep that up?" Peach asked.

That was the question, all right. "I don't know. But I'll keep it up for as long as I can." Especially when the penalty for failing to please would be a three-day fast.

She didn't bother checking to see that Nickel's cell door was still locked and her light extinguished before retiring to her own cell. No slave would dare open the cell door of another if were locked.

In the morning the kennelman would clean the cell and check Nickel's health, but, lacking any other instruction, would leave her hungry and locked in the dark, exactly as he found her.

"The kennelman reported that my whiphand is locked in her cell. Without food, water, or light." Lord Snow frowned.

"Yes," Irene said.

"Your doing?"

"Until I can advise you of the situation. Then you can decide what to do with her."