On the Auction Block (8 page)

Flame shook her head.

“That’s not good enough,” Mr. Dodge said. “Do
you know why I paid so much money for you?”

At the mention of money, Mrs. Dodge’s head
snapped around to glare at her husband.

“No, sir.”

“Because you grew up as a lady. Your
experience will be invaluable to me, but only if you share it.
Listen to me very carefully. You must tell me exactly how our
behavior differs from that of a lord and lady. Exactly. Do not fear
offending us. You will not be punished for correcting our table
manners or deportment.” He glared back at Mrs. Dodge. “But if we do
not learn to behave correctly, if we entertain guests from the
peerage and make any errors of etiquette, however minor, we will
blame you and you will be disciplined swiftly and terribly. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your job – your real job – is to make sure
that Mrs. Dodge and I behave exactly as a lord and lady would
behave. So do your job. Tell us, in detail, what we did wrong
during the dinner.”

Flame licked her lips and summoned her
courage. “There were a few minor things. Barely noticeable. Not at
all serious. But some things that would be done a little
differently at a lord’s table.”

“Tell me.”

“You ate your food in larger bites than a
lord would. A lord would never fill a spoon more than half full. He
would never put a piece of meat larger than a thumbnail in his
mouth.”

“I see. What else?”

“A lord would never put a bite into his mouth
until he had finished chewing and swallowing the previous bite. In
fact, he would clear his mouth and make a few words of conversation
before taking the next bite. At a lord’s table, the conversation is
considered more important than the food. Or, at least, that’s the
impression that the lord tries to give.”

“Is there more?”

“The most important thing is that a lord or
lady would never open his mouth when there is food in it. He chews
with his lips closed and swallows before opening them again. Every
time.”

“And we don’t?”

“You have to be careful not to slip.”

“What else?”

Mrs. Dodge was staring daggers at her. She
decided that she’d walked far enough on the edge of a knife for one
night.

“No, sir. Like I said, only minor things.
Nothing that would embarrass you.” She was lying about that. Mrs.
Dodge was a horror to watch when she was eating. Flame had never
before seen half-chewed food being masticated into mush. It had
been nauseating. If the Dodges were ever invited to a formal
dinner, it would be their last invitation.

If they aspired to be polite company, they
needed her help desperately. She could help them, but only if one
or the other didn’t lose his or her temper and kill the messenger
on the spot.

Suddenly, Mrs. Dodge smiled sweetly. “My
dear, you haven’t eaten yet. You must be starving. Come with me and
let me serve your dinner.”

Flame followed her into the kitchen.

Mrs. Dodge scraped half eaten chicken bones
from Mr. Dodge’s dirty plate onto hers, threw a spoonful of salad,
asparagus, and potatoes on top of it, and said, “Come with me.”

Flame followed her into the bathroom.

Mrs. Dodge dumped the food onto the floor in
front of the toilet. Then she deliberately mashed it into the tiles
with her foot. “Oh dear, I seem to have soiled my slipper. Would
you be a dear and get down on your knees and lick it clean for me?”
She leaned against the vanity and raised her foot delicately.

Flame fell to her knees and licked every
morsel of food from the sole of the slipper.

“When you finish eating your dinner, you be
sure to lick the floor clean. If I find so much as a speck of
grease left, I’ll make you rue the day you were born.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the food.”

Mrs. Dodge watched while Flame bent her face
to the floor and began eating like a dog.

“Don’t forget to keep your mouth closed when
you’re chewing. And feel free to make conversation with yourself
between bites.” She kicked Flame in the side to punctuate her
point. “When you’re finished that, clean the kitchen and dining
room and then go back to your kennel where you belong.”

* * *

Later that evening, Dodge came to the kennel
to make use of Flame. The big bed in the pleasure room had
attachment points around the frame. He had her lie on her back and
stretch her arms and legs akimbo. When her ankles and wrists were
chained to the four corners of the bed, he took his time fondling
her body before lying on top of her and penetrating her.

He liked taking her when she was
restrained.

To her surprise, she didn’t mind – once again
she climaxed with him.

Afterward, he sat in the easy chair and
watched her for a long time.

Her legs were pulled wide, giving him an
unobstructed view of her hairless sex. She felt acutely
self-conscious but she had no choice but to endure his gaze because
he left her chained to the bed until his eyes had taken their
fill.

When he finally released her, she asked, “Do
you wish to discipline me for my shortcomings at dinner
tonight?”

“Do you like being whipped?”

“No, sir. The prospect frightens me. But I
failed you and it is your right to do whatever you wish to me. It
is my duty to endure whatever discipline you choose to
inflict.”

“I do not wish to inflict any suffering on
you tonight. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Thank you.” Her gratitude was sincere and
heartfelt. Emboldened by his magnanimity, she asked, “Would it
offend you if I dared ask a boon?”

“Ask and I’ll decide if it offends me.”

She looked at the floor. “I’m embarrassed
that I can’t cook your meals for you. I would like a cookbook.
Something for a beginner so that I can learn to cook.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Mrs. Dodge
can teach you. She’s a good cook.”

“I don’t feel that it’s right for a slave to
impose upon her.”

He laughed and pulled a twenty-plaq note from
his wallet. “There’s a bookstore on Walkoon Street. You can go
there tomorrow when I’m at work. Bring back the change and the
receipt.” He unfastened a disk from his keychain. “Carry this with
you and you’ll be able to get through the back gate.”

“Thank you, sir.” She knew the bookstore; she
had shopped there when she was a lady. It would be a long walk down
Norbit Hill and longer walk back up. She hoped that it wouldn’t be
raining; she had no coat.

When Dodge left, he didn’t lock her cell
door, nor did her lock the door to the kennel. She would be free to
come and go tomorrow. But she would have to be careful not to abuse
the privilege. The gate was operated by an automatic mechanism.
Undoubtedly it would keep a record of the time of her comings and
goings for Dodge to review.

The day had been exhausting and she slept
soundly.

Barry, the kennelman, woke her at seven, as
before.

While she was showering, she wondered if she
would be required to service him orally again. She wouldn’t
volunteer, not today, but if he asked, she would do it without
complaint.

He didn’t ask. Instead, he had a gift for
her.

She examined the heavy piece of molded black
rubber. It was six inches long and an inch and a half in diameter.
One end formed a blunt point and the other flared out into a wide
oval.

“Mr. Dodge may not be interested in your
asshole,” Barry said, “but he’s going to expect you to entertain at
parties and some of his guests are sure to want to use you that
way. If you’re not prepared, you will find it an unpleasant
experience. It will be painful at the least and, at the worst, may
cause serious damage. I’ve seen some slaves whose assholes were
torn up pretty badly. It’s an awkward place to get stitches. You’ll
always have lube in your supplies. That’s standard. I recommend
that you lube the plug, insert it up your asshole, and wear it
there for at least an hour a day to keep yourself stretched. I also
recommend that you pack your asshole with plenty of lube before you
are taken to entertain guests. You won’t be given an opportunity to
lube up after the action starts. It’s better to be prepared than to
be injured.”

The idea appalled her but Barry was trying to
protect her. It was his way of returning the favor that she had
done for him yesterday and she appreciated it.

She never would have thought to prepare
herself to be raped anally. Never.

The slaver woman was right. It paid for a
slave to be on good terms with her kennelman.

“I can’t pay you for it. Not with money,” she
said.

He waved the thought away. “It will be
charged to your owner’s account. It’s a legitimate expense.”

She looked at him shyly. “After I’ve had a
few days to prepare myself, maybe you can give me some practical
experience that way, too. If that would please you.”

Barry flushed and his eyes flashed. “Don’t
you ever say that again. Ever. A kennelman who is found to have
penetrated a slave below her waist is automatically castrated.
Automatically. And after they do that, the authorities decide on a
suitable punishment. Something worse than the castration.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll never let you
penetrate me below the waist. Not even if you beg me. I’ll fight
you off with all my strength.”

“Don’t even joke about it. Mistakes have been
made in the past.”

The math was pretty simple. It would cost a
hundred thousand plaqs to replace her. It would cost nothing to
replace the kennelman. He would be vulnerable to a false
accusation.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t
worry. I’ll never cause a problem for you. That’s a promise.”

He nodded. “I’ve been here too long. I have
to get going.”

After he left, she stared at the rubber plug
for a while.
I better start preparing myself today,
she said
to herself.
Dodge likes to bend me over and take me from behind.
He might decide to use the other hole today.
What’s the
difference between regular sex and anal sex? About two inches.

She had seen the tube of lubricant in the
wardrobe. She knew what that it was used for sex but she’d never
had a need for it before.

She uncapped the tube and squeezed some out
on her hand. It was clear and odorless. It made her fingers
slippery.

She lubed the plug from tip to base with a
thick coat. Then she squatted, put her hand between her legs, and
rubbed lube around her asshole and then inside as far as her
fingers could reach.

It felt strange. She had never had her
fingers in her own asshole before. Or anyone else’s, for that
matter. Certainly not her husband’s.

With a start, she wondered if James had ever
put his fingers in a slave’s asshole. Or put his cock in there. Was
that his preference? If she had offered her asshole to her husband,
would they have had sex more than once or twice a year?

She would never know now.

She tried pushing the blunt tip of the plug
into herself.

It wouldn’t go. It slipped around and slipped
out but wouldn’t slip in further than a half inch.

Instead of crouching, she tried kneeling so
that she could put the base of the plug on the floor to impale
herself.

That worked a little better but it still
wouldn’t go in. She tried bouncing up and down a little and managed
to penetrate herself with most of the point but not more than
that.

There was a wooden chair in the kitchen.

She carried the plug out there, put it on the
chair, and then sat on it.

She had to force it with her body weight. She
slid up and down slowly while holding it with her hand. She could
feel that she was stretching a little more and sliding a little
lower on every penetration.

Suddenly her body revolted and reflexively
tried to shit the object out.

The opposite happened. When the body shits,
the sphincter muscles relax to allow the bolus to pass. This time,
when her sphincters relaxed, the plug slid home.

Flame was sitting on the chair, both cheeks
pressed against the wooden seat, with the plug was inserted into
her as far as it would go.

The sensation was peculiar. She felt like she
was frozen halfway through taking a shit. She was stretched but the
plug wasn’t passing so she had to remain stretched.

It wasn’t exactly painful but it was
definitely unpleasant.

She badly wanted to stand up and expel the
invader but she forced herself to remain seated.

She thought about what would have happened if
the invader had not been a rubber plug but a lusty man’s cock; if
she had not used lube but had been entered dry; if the invader had
been rammed home in one thrust rather than being coaxed inside; if,
rather than simply sitting passively in her ass, the invader were
being thrust in and out while she squirmed in agony.

Barry had done her a great service.

Flame had no watch – slaves owned nothing –
and there was no clock in the kennel so she could not tell when an
hour had passed. The kennel didn’t even have a window so she could
see how high the sun had risen. There are three thousand and sixty
seconds in an hour so she passed the time on the chair by counting
slowly to three thousand and sixty.

When she stood up, the plug immediately slid
out of her ass. When she wasn’t sitting on it, she would only be
able to keep it in place if she used her hand to hold it.

She washed it in the bathroom and then put it
in the wardrobe, hidden behind the cosmetics, lube, and other
toiletries.

Her asshole felt loose and slippery for a
good part of the day. It felt funny when she walked around.

As she feared, it was raining outside. Not
the downpour of the previous day, but a steady drizzle.

She had her green housedress and slippers but
no coat.