A Gentlemen's Agreement (22 page)

Unless Peach or one
of the other slaves started causing trouble in the kennel.
Then she was
quite prepared to take all the joy out of someone’s life for an evening.

She followed the other slaves
through the tunnel to the billiard room.

There was a games table with two
chairs in the middle of the room and a variety of chaise lounges arranged
around the perimeter. Each slave selected one of the chaise lounges and
arranged herself decoratively on it. Apple explained to Irene that they weren’t
confined to the furniture, but could stand, stretch and walk about a little.
They were, however, prohibited from making sudden movements that would distract
the players and, above all, were not to speak, even at a whisper. They were
visual decoration only. If they caused a distraction, Lord Snow might turn them
over to the professor for chastisement.

None of them wanted that.

After a bit, Lord Snow and the
professor came into the room and sat at the table. They joked and chatted as
they distributed chips and shuffled cards.

Poker was the game for the night. Five-card
draw. The gentlemen had no interest in fancy
foo-foo
games. They were happy to face off against each other in the most basic showdown
– bet, draw, bet, and lay down.

The play proceeded at a break-neck
pace and the piles of chips rose and fell as one of them gained advantage and
then lost it. Neither man was able to bankrupt the other.

Irene inferred that the smallest
chip was worth thirty-two-
plaqs
and the largest was
five hundred and twelve.

The typical pot was more than a
thousand
plaqs
. Lord Snow could afford to lose that
easily enough, but Irene wondered about the professor. If he were truly a
university professor then we was unlikely to be wealthy. Professors’ salary
scales tended to be modest.

Nonetheless, he didn’t seem to
worry about it. He laughed and joked with Lord Snow and happily ogled the naked
slaves that lounged around the room.

They reacted by subtly posing in
the provocative positions that he seemed to enjoy most. He watched most avidly
when a slave clasped her hands behind her back and thrust her breasts out, or
stretched her arms high over her head, or held her hands protectively over her
pudendum.

The significance of the poses was
obvious and Irene was willing to participate in the exhibition. Posing like a
slave who was being tortured was a long way from suffering the torture and, if
it made Lord Snow’s guest happy, then she was obligated to accommodate him.

For the most part, Irene found the
evening boring and her boredom grew worse as the hour grew late.

She stretched by putting her hands
over the nape of her neck and arching her back to thrust her breasts out.

The professor was watching and his
smile grew wide.

“My dear friend,” he said to Lord
Snow. “The hour grows late. I propose that we make this the last hand.”

“Very well. Ante up.”

The professor dealt five cards to
himself and Lord Snow.

Lord Snow fanned his cards one at
a time as he looked at them. His face didn’t change expression, but Irene had
the impression that he was pleased. It was the way he held them. Carefully.
Possessively.

Both men had about equal piles of
chips in front of them. “Let’s make this interesting,” the professor said. “I’m
all in.” Even though he hadn’t looked at his cards, yet, he pushed his entire
lot into the pot.

That was the kind of dramatic,
foolish gesture that gentlemen loved.

Lord Snow did the same. “I’ll see
and call.”

“How many cards would you like?”
the professor asked.

“I’ll stand pat.”

“My, my. You must have something
nice. I require two cards, myself.” The professor discarded two cards and drew
two replacements from the deck.

“Having rashly neglected to save
some chips for the second round of betting, what do you say to making the pot
really interesting?”

“Sure. What do you propose?”

“I greatly admire your slave with
the golden collar. She is quite lovely. Could I convince you to risk her on the
strength of your hand?”

Irene’s blood ran cold and she
froze in position.

The professor smiled cheerfully at
her.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t.
Really.” Lord Snow shook his head sadly.

“I understand,” the professor
said. “She is a lovely slave.”

“How about one of the others?”

The other slaves looked horrified.

The professor laughed at them. “Maybe
some other time. Tonight, only the one has my eye. A slave who merits a dog
collar is special.”

“I regret that I can’t.” But Lord
Snow looked at his cards longingly.

“Such a pity. But if you won’t
risk all on a single hand, then our game will have to be over. I just thought
that, since you drew no cards, that you had confidence in the hand that fate
dealt.”

Lord Snow raised an eyebrow. “What
would you have that you could risk of equal value?”

The professor shrugged his
shoulders modestly. “If you risk all, then I will risk all. I have five devices
for female chastisement of my own design in my studio. That’s my complete
inventory. They are worth about a
hundred-thousand
plaqs
. I would be willing to stake them all on my hand.
My entire work for the last decade.
If you won them, you’d
not only have devices that would delight and amaze your guests, but I’d also
have to begin designing and building new devices from scratch. I dare say,
you’d be able to replace your slave at the next auction whereas I’d likely be
old and bedridden before I were able to replace what I lost.”

Lord Snow stared at the cards in
his hand.

Irene glanced at the other slaves
in the room. They were all terrified that Lord Snow would win a whole
collection of fiendish torture devices to add to his pleasure room. They
couldn’t imagine him having a device and never trying it out on them.

“Very well, then,” Lord Snow said.
“If you are willing to risk your life’s work, then surely I can risk a single
slave.”

“Done,” the professor said. “What
do you have?”

“Full house, kings high.” Lord
Snow laid his cards on the table. “Only a straight flush or four of a kind can
beat it, so if you don’t have either of those hands, I will look forward to
receiving delivery of your devices.”

“Both a straight flush and four of
a kind are rare hands,” the professor said. “I have neither one nor the other.”

Peach groaned softly.

“But you are incorrect on one
particular.” The professor shook his head slyly.

Lord Snow raised an eyebrow. “And
what is that?”

“There is a third hand that can
beat a full house, kings high.”

The blood drained from Lord Snow’s
face. “No.” He could barely articulate the word.

“Yes,” the professor said and laid
down his own full house, aces high.

Lord Snow stared at the professor’s
cards in shock. Then he raised his eyes to Irene and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so,
so sorry.”

Irene felt like she was going to
faint. She was now the property of the county’s most feared sadist.

The professor rose from the table
and said, “Thank you for a most enjoyable evening, Lord Snow. We can settle the
tab for my chips at your convenience. If you don’t mind, I’ll take my new
property home with me, now.”

Lord Snow didn’t answer. He was
too stricken to speak. He kept staring at the cards lying on the table.

The professor stepped to Irene and
offered his hand. “Come, dear. Let me show you to your new home. I have a most
delightful bed for you to nestle in tonight. Though, I must say, I’m going to
enjoy it far more than you are. It does lack something in comfort.”

The portly sadist escorted his new
slave from Lord Snow’s manor out to his car.

END OF BOOK TWO