A Gentlemen's Agreement (19 page)

“The referee’s judgment is final,”
Irene said.

One of the gentlemen from Nickel’s
team, the Hawks, said, “You’re ordered to let her finish. I’ve got money riding
on her and I don’t care if she splits herself in half on the damned cone.”

Irene knew him. Lord Wright was a
powerful man who sat in committee with Marquette Kelly. Something about studying
possible changes to the property tax laws. She was trying to frame a diplomatic
answer when Lord Snow interrupted.

“You don’t care,” Lord Snow said,
“but I do. It violates the rules of the game and I don’t see the point of
losing this slave’s value when she’s already lost the competition. If tearing
her asshole open were allowed, then all the slaves would do the same and she
still wouldn’t win and I’d lose every slave in my kennel.”

Snow was taking a chance by
defying Wright but the other gentlemen were nodding in agreement and some of
them were earls so Wright would have to swallow his pride. And accept the loss
of his wagers.

It went down hard, but he did.
“Okay. Let’s see who I can bet on to win my money back.”

He wouldn’t have trouble placing
another bet – wagers were being haggled loudly throughout the room
– but he might find it hard to win his money back. While he had been
arguing about Nickel, the other gentlemen had been studying the contestants.

The slave’s grunts and groans
could barely be heard over the general hubbub.

After another couple of minutes,
Irene clapped her hands and called for quiet. “Gentlemen, I’m calling time.
Your loyal slaves will never give up; they’ll keep pushing until their assholes
grow another size, even if that takes a month. Slaves, wherever you are right
now is your final score. Push no more and remove yourselves from your cones.
Remain in front of them until your score is noted.”

A couple of slaves gave one last
effort to impale themselves further, others didn’t, but all pulled themselves
off the cones with visible reluctance. They didn’t want to quit.

When they were bent over and
impaled, they couldn’t turn their necks far enough to see their own scores so
their first impulse when they stood erect was to turn around and look.

Irene walked down the line and,
while she noted the scores, she also examined the cones for traces of blood.
She found none except the smear that was drying on Nickel’s.

Most of the slaves had
accommodated a diameter of about two and a quarter inches. But one, little
Lime, had accommodated a truly impressive two and thirteen-sixteenths.

Irene wondered if she used a soda
bottle to stretch herself instead of the dildos that other slaves used.

“Team Demon won first place with
two and thirteen-sixteenth inches,” Irene announced. Lime was honored with an
extended ovation. “Team Dragon won second with two and seven-sixteenths.” That
was one of the borrowed slaves. “And Team Stallion placed third with two and
three eighths. Congratulations all.”

Once again, she cleared the old
equipment from the room and brought in new while the gentlemen settled their
wagers and discussed the performance of their slaves. She was getting tired of
all the lifting and toting.

It didn’t help that the steel
bikini was chaffing raw spots on her crotch and under her breasts despite the
smooth, rounded edges.

“Gentlemen, your attention,
please. This concludes the physical capabilities events in tonight’s games. If
you will gather your team under your banner, I will explain how the second half
of the games will proceed.” She waited for a minute for the gentlemen and their
slaves to return to their home banners. “In the second half of the games you
judge sexual style and technique. For the next three events, the gentlemen will
participate in sexual acts with the slaves. I applaud your patience but it’s
about time you gentlemen got some service.” There was a round of enthusiastic
applause from the audience.

“The first event is passive
service. Slaves, face toward
me and then walk
to the
first team on your right. Yes, the slave from Team Dragon will be servicing a
member of Team Buccaneer; the slave from Team Buccaneer will be servicing a
member of Team Hawk; and so forth.

“Good. Now I would like each team
to select one gentleman to be serviced by the slave who just came to your
group. The gentleman will lie on the mattress on his back and the slave will
mount him. It is the slave’s task to give the gentleman as much pleasure as
possible even if the gentleman chooses to remain passive under her hips.

“Gentlemen, pay attention to the
slave who is servicing you because you will be asked to rate her performance on
a scale from one to five, where the middle value, three, is the performance of
an average slave who has serviced you in a similar way in the past.”

A gentleman, Lord
Mistry
, interrupted.
“What if I’ve never been
on the bottom before?”

“Then remember times that are as
similar as possible. Missionary would be more similar than a blowjob, for
example, so you may compare this performance with times that you may have used
a slave in the missionary position.”

There were a few grumbles but no
serious objections. Most of the men in this room had never experienced a female
superior position with a slave and many of them had never even tried the
missionary position. For obvious psychological reasons, many gentlemen
preferred to have a slave bend over into a submissive posture and offer
herself
to be mounted from behind.

”Clearly you will not want to rate
your competitor’s slave highly, but I’m asking you, on your honor as gentlemen,
to judge these performances as objectively as possible. Oh, and don’t be
concerned if you don’t get serviced in this round. There are more rounds coming
and everyone will get serviced as much as they like before the night is over.
Now, if there are no more questions, the gentlemen volunteers may identify
themselves to the slaves so that the fun can begin.”

The lights had been muted to add
to the mood but were still bright enough for Irene to watch the action. For the
most part, it was not visually impressive. The men lay on their backs, either
passively or bucking the slave. The slaves were mounted on the men so they were
well exposed, their breasts bouncing and their backs arching, their beautiful
faces contorted by the pleasure that they were giving and receiving in return.

The three men on each team who
were not being fucked did not bother to watch too closely. They had seen ample
naked female pulchritude in their lives. A naked slave writhing while
she was being fucked by someone else
for a few minutes was
of no great interest.

The men chatted quietly with each
other, glancing at the copulating pair, and then returning to place wagers on
how highly the slave might be rated. But the betting was subdued, the wagers
mostly based on how likely the gentleman was to give a rival team’s slave a low
mark when she was clearly at least average.

Irene noticed that the two
borrowed slaves were by far the most active, bouncing up and down on the cocks
that were impaling them with great energy and enthusiasm.

Lord Snow’s slaves, however, were
more likely to be calm and serene as they rested their crotches on the
gentlemen’s hips. The teammates of those gentlemen tended to look at those
couplings with impatience, waiting for the lazy slaves to begin working hard.

Irene knew what those gentlemen
did not. Lord Snow’s slaves were already the hardest-working women in the room.
But they did their work inside their cunts. The faces of the gentlemen who were
impaling Lord Snow’s slaves were studies in slack-jawed ecstasy.

Their teammates didn’t know what
to look for and had no idea what they were seeing.

One by one, the gentlemen came
and, when their primal utterances ceased, the slaves climbed off them. More
often than not, the gentlemen who had been serviced by Lord Snow’s slaves
wanted the slave to lie beside them and share their bliss for a time.

Even Nickel, who had been
servicing a member of Team Paladin, was taken into the gentleman’s arms when
she finished with him. This time, she had been anything but perfunctory.

When the last slave dismounted,
Irene said, “The gentlemen who have received service will find a marking pen at
the head of their mattress near the wall. Please write a number between one and
five on the right thigh of the slave who serviced you. A number one indicates
that the slave’s performance was well below average, two that it was somewhat
below average, three that she was average, four, somewhat above average, and
five, that she gave a clearly superior performance.”

The gentlemen retrieved the pens
and made their marks.

“Now, if each slave would proceed
to the next team on her right and give a second gentleman volunteer the same
kind of performance – the gentleman lying on his back and the slave
mounting him and doing all the work.”

The event was repeated with a new
gentleman on each team being serviced by a slave from a different team.

This time, the unoccupied members
of the team tended to gather around a table that had been set up in the middle
of the room and sip drinks while they chatted about various and sundry topics.

When the new pairings were
finished and the slaves were rated a second time, Irene announced the next
event. The slaves were rotated again and this time they gave blowjobs to
volunteer men. They were rated and then rotated to give a second blowjob to yet
another man.

The final event was doggy style,
the slave offering her sex while on her hands and knees
;
the gentleman given a choice of cunt or asshole.

After rating that, there was a
final rotation and a second gentleman’s choice of hole was offered.

That was the final event. Irene
visited each slave and tallied up the six numbers that had been written on her
right thigh. Most of the numbers were fours and fives, though Nickel had earned
a two – below average – and a three – average. Irene guessed
that those were for her blowjobs. She never put much effort into those. Her
other four numbers were more respectable. Though she didn’t like being fucked,
she had worked hard to strengthen her cunt and had developed decent control.
She could please a man when she wanted to.

“Gentlemen, may I have your
attention. I have the final results. I am pleased to announce that two teams
tied for third place - Team Oak with Slave Peach and Team Buccaneer with Slave
Cherry.” There was cheering and applause for the teams. “The second place team
was Team Demon with Slave Lime.” The applause was louder. “And the winning team
and current champions are Team Stallion with Slave Tamarind!” The applause was
enthusiastic, especially from those
who
had
significant amounts of money staked on that team.

“Gold, silver, and bronze tokens
will be distributed to the gentlemen on these teams.” She held up one of the
small tokens to a smattering of applause.

“Seven slaves will be available
for the rest of the evening to service you however you wish.” That earned her
the loudest applause of the evening. “One of the slaves will not. Slave Nickel
earned the lowest score of the evening, so she will be spending the rest of the
evening being cruelly punished. Her punishment will be fifteen minutes of
agonizing crucifixion in a specially-designed frame, followed by being displayed
for the remainder of the evening.”

Lord Snow wheeled the crucifixion
frame into the room.
He was assisted by a distinguished-looking
man
in his late fifties who had not been part of the entertainment. This
was the professor, the man whom the slaves feared as a dedicated sadist. His
white hair and rotund form made him look teddy-bearish. The twinkle in his eye
made him look insane.

When the frame was in place near
the back wall, Irene said, “Nickel, come and submit to crucifixion.”

When Nickel walked across the room
toward Irene, her jaw was clenched and her eyes radiated hate. But she didn’t
dare refuse a direct order.

The steel frame was seven feet
tall and seven feet wide. When Nickel stood in it and stretched her arms to
each side, she could easily reach steel handles that were attached to the frame
by a screw mechanism.

When she grabbed them, the
professor wrapped leather straps around her hands. She would not be supported
by the straps, but by her grip on the handles. The purpose of the straps was to
ensure that she could not release her grip, no matter how much she wanted to.
And soon, she would want to release them most desperately.

Once her hands were secured, the
professor turned a crank on each side of the frame so that the handles were
pulled apart, stretching Nickel’s arms until they were extended straight from
her shoulders. He did not separate the handles far enough to put her under
tension, only far enough to remove any slack.

Next, he turned another crank that
pulled on chains to raise both handles equally. It took many turns of the crank
to move the handles upward a few inches. The mechanism gave a mechanical
advantage would allow one person to elevate a large person easily. It also
allowed precise adjustments to the height of the handles.

At first, Nickel’s wrists rose
above her shoulders to shift her arms from a horizontal position to about a
twenty-degree angle. At that point, she began suffering severe pain in her
shoulder joints. To relieve the pain, she began to rise on her toes.

The professor kept cranking until
her heels were elevated several inches off the ground. Her calves were knotted
with the effort that it took for her to keep from putting all her weight on her
shoulders.

She was whimpering through
clenched teeth. She didn’t want to give anyone that satisfaction but her pain
was already sufficiently severe that she couldn’t keep silent.