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Authors: Ashley Zacharias

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm

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BOOK: A Gentlemen's Agreement
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Nickel sighed.

Irene wished with all her being
that it were cock rather than cunt in her mouth, but wishing wouldn’t make it
so. She had to service what was here. She slipped her tongue back down the slit
and probed as far inside Nickel as her tongue would reach. She listened to
Nickel’s reaction. The
whiphand’s
increased rate of
breathing and a soft moan said that she was doing the right thing. So she kept
it up.

A few minutes later, when Nickel’s
hips began to rock, trying to push
themselves
into
Irene’s face for more stimulation, Irene backed off.

She could do to Nickel what she
did to gentlemen when she sucked their cocks – tease and frustrate them
– bring them to a higher level of lust than they had ever before
experienced.

“God damn it, don’t stop!” Nickel
shouted.

Irene didn’t stop. She began to
explore Nickel’s cunt with her tongue. The fat outer lips protected the more
sensitive inner lips. She licked the fold between the two, up one side and down
the other. Then she licked along the slit between the two inner lips, noting
different reactions, mentally cataloging the more and less sensitive parts of
the woman’s cunt.

When Nickel’s breathing began to
slow, she returned to the gates of her vagina and plunged her tongue back
inside.

Nickel’s breathing accelerated
again and she began to work her hips anew.

When Nickel began screaming, “God!
God damn it! Good, sweet God!” Irene slowed down again.

Nickel sounded like she was
beginning to cry. “Keep doing that. Get back inside me.” Now her voice was
soft. Pleading.

Irene brought her fingers into
play. When she was sucking a man off, she pumped his cock at the base. What was
the analogous action with a woman?

She knew that there was a spot
inside her that gave her special pleasure when a cock rubbed against it. She
moved her mouth up to Nickel’s clitoral hood and began nuzzling around it,
never quite making contact with the clit itself. While she was doing that, she
tucked two fingers under her chin and inserted them into Nickel. Crooking her
fingers, she felt a rough, irregular spot on the front of her vaginal vault.

As soon as she began rubbing that,
Nickel began to scream and buck her hips.

Irene tilted her head and began
mouthing Nickel’s clit, not touching it directly, but compressing the sides of
her clitoral hood against it with her lips.

Nickel screamed incoherent
gibberish for a long time while closing her thighs and squeezing Irene’s head.

Then she relaxed. Her thighs fell
limp and she reached down to grab Irene’s hair and pulled her head away.

Irene withdrew her fingers and
rocked back on her heels. Her neck was aching from being kinked backward and
cricked over to the side. Her knees were burning. Even her jaw was sore.

Nickel’s eyes were closed and her
chest was heaving inside the corset. She flopped over onto the cot and pulled
her legs up, kicking Irene in the head when she failed to clear it.

Too late, Irene ducked down out of
the way.

As Nickel curled up into a fetal
position on the cot, Irene rose to her feet – an awkward, ungainly maneuver
because her knees were so stiff.

She stood and massaged her
shoulders, trying to work the kinks out.

After a few minutes, Nickel opened
her eyes. “God damn, woman, that was good. Don’t tell me you never licked a
cunt before or I’ll beat you half to death for lying to me.”

“No, ma’am. I did it once before
as part of a show. But I’ve sucked a lot of cock. I tried to adapt what I know
about stimulating cocks to your cunt.”

“You expect me to believe that you
were thinking about sucking cock when you were eating me out?”

“I’m a great cocksucker, ma’am.
Gentlemen tell me that I’m exceptional.”

Nickel grunted at that.

Irene stood and waited for
instructions.

After a bit, Nickel said, “I was
going to beat you after you finished eating me out, but I don’t feel like it
any more.”

Irene’s last owner had beaten her
on the first day because he said that it was important for a slave to know her
place. “You may beat me if you wish, ma’am. But I can assure you that I know my
place even if you don’t feel like doing it right now.”

“You want me to send Cherry in
here and lick your cunt? She’s pretty good at it. Not quite as good as you, but
pretty good. She’ll get you off.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but that’s not
necessary. I’d rather have Lord Snow get me off, but he doesn’t seem interested
in my service.”

“He’s missing out.” She sighed. “There’s
no accounting for the whims of a gentleman slave owner.”

“No, ma’am.”

Nickel rose from the bed. Once
again, she was standing so close to Irene that their chests were almost
touching. Nickel wrapped her arms around Irene and pulled her into a hug. She
whispered in her ear. “Now that I know what you can do, you’re going to be
doing that for me a lot. Believe me, if you ever give me any less than your
best effort, I’ll part your legs and strap your cunt until you’re bruised and
swollen. You know why I’d do that?”

Irene shook her head against
Nickel’s shoulder.

“So that, when a man, Lord Snow or
some other man, does fuck you, it’ll hurt like hell and you’ll get no pleasure
from him. You understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am. I will always give
you my best effort. You have my promise on that.”

“Good. Now I’m going to see how
Apple and Lime fared with Lord Snow. You can come or stay. I don’t care.”

Irene followed Nickel out of the
cell.

 

* * *

 

The muffled screams finally stopped and no sounds emanated from
the pleasure room for a long time. But Apple and Lime didn’t return yet.

Irene sat with the other silent
slaves, waiting to see what would happen.

She wondered if she had made Lord
Snow so angry and frustrated that he’d killed them. He could do it if he wanted
– they were his property to dispose of as he wished – but Irene
couldn’t imagine her old friend doing such a thing.

But what did that mean? A couple
of hours ago, she couldn’t have imagined him being so expert with a strap that
he could cover Tamarind’s entire ass with an even, unbroken bruise, either. Or
imagine him making the two slaves,
Apple
and Lime
scream themselves horse in response to some kind of agonizing torture behind a
closed door.

She wondered if other ladies
suspected that their husbands were capable of such cruelty or if she had been unusually
naïve.

Then she wondered if her own
husband – ex-husband –
James,
beat his
slaves when he went out to his kennel. Extrapolating from all the other
gentlemen that she’d encountered as a slave, she had to conclude that it was
likely.

The idea startled her.

Then she had another epiphany. If
she’d known that he was capable of cruelty, she would never have dared put
herself on the auction block. Refusing to buy her had been the cruelest thing
that any gentleman had ever done to her, before or after enslaving herself.

She was relieved to see the door
open and the two stray slaves emerge alive.

They looked disheveled and acted
subdued. Exactly how Irene would expect women would appear after they had been
beaten into submission for over an hour.

Lime raised her eyes and looked at
the other slaves waiting in the kitchen.

Irene could see trails of sweat
and tears marking her cheeks. Her hair was matted against her head.

“He was an animal,” Lime said.

“A beast,” Apple confirmed.

Irene looked for bruises but could
see none. She looked for dried blood but couldn’t see that, either.

Apple slumped into an empty chair.
“I’ve never been fucked like that in my life.”

Lime sighed. “He was hard as
steel.”

“And it took him only a couple of
minutes to get hard again after he came,” Apple said.

“He fucked me twice,” Lime said.

“Me, too.” Apple looked
disappointed. Then she smiled softly. “But he was slower the second time. I
came three times before he was finished.”

“I can’t believe that a man could get
it up four times in an hour.”

“Was it only an hour?” Apple
asked. “It felt like days.”

“It was a good thing that there
were two of us,” Lime said. “I needed a break between
fuckings
.”

“Not that it was much of a break,”
Apple said. “It was so hot seeing him go at you that I almost came just
watching.”

“I’ve never seen a man so … so
energetic. He was like a jackhammer. I felt penetrated all the way from my tits
to my toes.”

“You screamed like a banshee.”

Lime giggled. “I did, didn’t I? I
barely knew what I was doing.”

“I know,” Apple said. “Nothing in
the world mattered when he was going at me.” She turned to look at Irene. “I
don’t know what you did to him in there, but you sure turned him on.”

“To the highest setting,” Lime
said.

Irene felt a flush of envy. She
wanted Lord Snow to fuck her like a beast. She deserved to feel like there was nothing
in the world but his cock thrusting deep in her cunt. She wanted to bask in the
contented exhaustion of multi-orgasmic afterglow.

Nickel looked at her with hard
eyes. “Tell me again what you did to Lord Snow.”

Irene shrugged. “Just told him
about putting myself on the auction block. I don’t know why that would turn him
on so much.”

“You said that you didn’t touch
him.”

“And he didn’t touch me, either.”

“You watch yourself,” Nickel said.
“I’ve got my eye on you.” She left the room.

The other slaves turned to stare
at Irene.

She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she
said. “I just don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Irene didn’t see Lord Snow for the next week. Nickel sent
other slaves into the pleasure room, presumably at Lord Snow’s request, but
never Irene. The slaves were called to the billiard room twice to provide
entertainment while Irene was left alone to amuse herself.

She did not develop the same
intimate relationship with Lord Snow’s
kennelman
as
she had with her previous owner’s. The slaves were inspected in the kitchen, en
masse, rather than in their individual cells. It was brisk and impersonal.

On the second day, though, her
butt plug and vaginal weights appeared in her wardrobe. She didn’t know if
Barry had sent them along especially or if it were standard practice for a
slave’s most personal items to be forwarded to her new owner. They had to be
hers, though. The butt plug was fairly standard for slaves, but the vaginal
weights were a rare item that almost no other slave would recognize, much less
know
how to use.

She was relieved that she could
continue to keep her asshole stretched and her cunt tuned up, even if they
weren’t being used. A smart girl kept herself prepared, just in case.

Not having a chance even to reward
her
kennelman
with a blowjob, her only sexual
activity was being ordered to eat out Nickel every day. She was not acquiring
any taste for pussy. It remained a dull, unpleasant chore for Irene.

Nickel seemed to find her service
exciting.

Irene badly wanted cock and she had
no way to get any. Her life as a slave in Lord Snow’s kennel was as boring as
her life as a lady in James’ manor had been.

She didn’t even get a decent
paddling. Not even once.

She could have left Nickel
unsatisfied and earned
herself
a whipping, but she
wasn’t that desperate. Especially when she saw what happened when Peach
displeased Nickel.

Peach had an attitude. Mostly she
kept it under control but, on the third morning after Irene arrived, Peach
stepped out of bounds.

It had started innocently enough. After
the
kennelman
finished inspecting all the slaves, he
served porridge, as he did every morning. The slaves sat around the kitchen
table to eat, as they did every morning.

Irene asked Peach to pass the
sugar.

“Get your own damn sugar,” Peach
said. “I
ain’t
your servant, Lady Irene.”

“I’m no lady,” Irene said, “so you
don’t have to be like that. Nothing says that a slave can’t show a little
common courtesy to another slave.”

“I’ll show you common courtesy.” Peach
grabbed the sugar bowl and upended it over Irene’s bowl. “There’s some courtesy.
Now
ain’t
that sweet? Just
let me know if there’s anything else that I can do to help your ladyship.”

Irene remembered what Nickel said
about fighting. Undoubtedly Peach was hoping that Irene would attack her and be
confined to her cell for the rest of her life. Escalation would be unwise
“Thank you,” Irene said softly. She scraped as much of the sugar off her
porridge as she could before eating it.

That might have been the end of
the incident but the
kennelman
was not out of
earshot. He had come back into the room when he heard Peach snarling at Irene
and had seen the whole incident.

He reported it to Nickel.

Nothing happened until after the
breakfast dishes were cleared and washed. Then Nickel came into the kitchen and
stood in front of Peach. “It seems that you want a little excitement.”

Peach shook her head. She looked
frightened.

“Maybe you were hoping to start a
brawl in here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Oh. I guess I was misinformed.
Are you telling me that the
kennelman
is a liar?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then maybe I misunderstood. Are
you telling me that I’m too stupid to understand what the
kennelman
was saying?”

BOOK: A Gentlemen's Agreement
3.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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