A Gentlemen's Agreement Read Online Free Page B

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,