A Gentlemen's Agreement (10 page)

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 participate 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 buggered. The other two were
on their backs, their hands pinned over their heads by one gentleman while
another fucked 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 cunt while
another was sodomizing her asshole. 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-orgasmic 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 cunt and were leaving her asshole 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 passed 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 amusement.
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 Saturday 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 gratitude 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, grass-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.”

“So, advise me of the situation.”

“You ordered that Nickel would
participate in the entertainments and do her share of servicing the gentlemen. Last
night, my instructions to all the slaves were clear. They were to hide in the
garden until they were found and then submit to the gentlemen without
resistance. But when the slaves were out of sight, Nickel took advantage of the
situation to go back into the kennel and close the door to her cell. When I
found out where she was, I simply locked her door until you were available to
decide what to do about her blatant disobedience.”

“What do you think I should do
about it?”

“That is entirely your decision.”

“Good God. Don’t play games with
me. Obviously she has to be punished. You were in charge of the entertainment. What
punishment do you recommend?”

“If the entertainment failed, I
was willing to suffer a three-day fast. She did not contribute to its success
so I would have her suffer the same fast that I was risking.”

“So she doesn’t eat again until
when?”

“Wednesday breakfast.”

“Okay. That sounds fair to me. And
she can endure her fast in her cell. Water deprivation, too?”

“No. Three days is too long to be deprived
of water.”

“Okay. I’ll instruct the
kennelman
give her a pint of water every morning and leave
a bucket in the cell for her to relieve herself in.”

“I think that will make your
point.” Irene nodded solemnly.

“You think that’s enough? I could
cane her before I let her eat on Wednesday.”

“I think the fast is punishment
enough. Three days is a considerable ordeal. She will suffer.” Lord Snow had
not thought about the lights, but Irene would make sure that Nickel was
suffering in the dark. She would have no stimulation to distract her from
dwelling upon her transgression. “One small point.”

“Yes?”

“It would be best if she
understood that this punishment is being administered by you. She’s going to
suspect that I was behind it, anyway, but if she can’t be certain then maybe
there’ll be a little less bad blood in the kennel when she gets out.”

He smiled. “I’ll tell her
personally.”

“It would be best.”

“So the nasty business is done,”
he said. “Let’s move on to lighter topics. I trust you realize that congratulations
are in order. Last night may well be the most splendid entertainment that I’ve
ever seen. It’s not yet noon and Lady Snow has already been inundated with
invitations to all manner of social events. People that we’ve never met are
hoping that we’ll reciprocate and invite them back so that the gentlemen can
enjoy the next entertainment that you devise. Lady Snow is sending regrets to
anyone of lower rank than an earl unless
they
’re
already
an old and dear friend
. Not just an old friend
and not just a dear friend, but both old and dear. We have the privilege of being
terribly exclusive right now.” He grinned.

“I’m happy to be of service,”
Irene said.

“You won’t have to stage another
entertainment for three weeks. Like I said, we’re accepting a lot of
invitations so we will be entertained elsewhere for the rest of the month.”

“I’ll start planning something for
the second Saturday after next.”

“Any idea what you’ll do?”

“Not a clue. I’ll have to think of
something.”

He looked at her for a minute, as
though he were trying to decide if he should believe her. Then he shrugged. “If
you need anything, let me know.”

“There is one thing that would
make it easier for me to deal with the other slaves.”

“What’s that?”

She fingered the gold collar about
her neck. “I’d like you to have this removed. And change my name back to Flame.
Or some other slave name.
You like fruit. How about
Tangerine? Or Kumquat.
Anything but Irene.
That’s a
name for a lady, not a slave.”

He shook his head. “No. The collar
stays. Along with your name.” His flat, uninflected tone made it clear that he
wasn’t going to entertain discussion about it.

She didn’t understand why he
wanted her to keep wearing that humiliating punishment collar and to keep
answering to the name that she had been known by when she was a lady. His wife,
Lady Snow, had to cringe every time she heard it. Not that she would hear it
much. Lord Snow would have little reason to mention Irene. There was no need
because she was never called up to the manor to perform even token housework.

“Then I need something else.”
Irene stared hard at him.

“What’s that?”

“I need to get fucked. I need it
so bad, it hurts. I’d give anything if you’d throw me down on that bed and rut
the hell out of me. Anything.”

“Jesus Christ! I told you not to
say that. Get the hell out of here! Right now!”

She sauntered across the room,
throwing as much sway into her ass as she could. He had to be watching and she hoped
that this would be the day that his resistance crumbled to dust.