of asking for more.
One bowl of porridge would have to
satisfy Nickel until dinner.
But it was clear from Nickel’s
glare that the only food that would satisfy her was Irene’s heart, fried and sliced on a plate. She would delight in eating
every bite of that gourmet treat.
“Nickel, you’ve been assigned a
chore,” the kennelman said. His voice was mild. A kennelman never had to raise his voice to a slave. Slaves
knew that they would live an exceptionally uncomfortable life if they failed to
mind their kennelman .
She left to clean her cell.
After the kennelman left, Peach said, “It seems, Lady Irene, that you have caused our whiphand some distress. I reckon that we’ll see how your
strong cunt holds up after it’s been well tenderized by her strap.”
Irene addressed all of the slaves.
“I hope that you’re all practicing with your weights every day. You’re going to
need your strength for one of my upcoming entertainments.”
Peach snickered. “It’s you that needs
those weights. The rest of us have a better way to excercise our cunts.”
Irene shrugged. “Suit yourself.
But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
After she finished cleaning her
cell, Nickel stayed inside until the other slaves had gone to the manor to
undertake their token chores of the day.
When Irene was alone, Nickel
emerged. She was wearing her corset and strap again.
“You locked my door,” Nickel said.
Irene didn’t bother to deny it.
“You were ordered to attend the entertainment.”
“I didn’t eat for three days.”
Irene nodded.
“And you didn’t eat me out for
three days. Come to my cell,” she said. She was clearly exerting effort to keep
her voice neutral.
Nickel was still Lord Snow’s whiphand and now she was itching for a reason to tenderize
Irene’s cunt. Her hand was twitching toward her strap as she waited for Irene
to refuse.
Irene did not.
In her cell, Nickel said, “I think
it would be good if we started fresh. No hard feelings. Water
under the bridge. All that.”
Irene didn’t believe a word that
Nickel was saying. That woman knew how to hold a grudge like no other.
“So I’m going to give you a chance
to show your good faith.” She lay on her cot and
spread her thighs wide.
Irene could have refused, could
have gone running to find Lord Snow, but she didn’t. This was her problem to
solve. A display of pride would only make it worse.
She sank to her knees, buried her
face in Nickel’s crotch, and began licking her musky cunt.
While Nickel’s moans increased in
volume and deepened in timbre, Irene thought about what was going to happen at
the next entertainment.
An entertainment that Nickel would
not be able to escape or avoid.
An entertainment
in which Nickel would have the starring role.
It made her task easier.
Nickel’s climax was explosive. The
more Nickel hated Irene, the more she was stimulated when she forced Irene to
degrade herself by pleasuring her enemy.
Irene’s face was lathered with a
froth of cunt juice when she left the cell.
Lime found her in the bathroom,
taking her second shower of the day, trying to make herself feel clean again.
“Irene, I have instructions from
Lord Snow. There’s a car coming to take you somewhere. I don’t know where. Lord
Snow didn’t say. You’re to wear a housedress and shoes. I left them on your
cot. The car’s going to be here in a half hour. You’ve
got to be ready.”
“I will,” Irene said as she turned
off the water.
She wondered if she had been sold.
It didn’t sound like it. When a slave was transferred to a new owner, she was
always naked, had her hands cuffed behind her back, and was leashed about the
neck.
Of course, that was just tradition,
not law. Lords could break tradition if they felt like it.
But surely Lord Snow wouldn’t have
sold her when he needed her to plan his next entertainment. That was still more
than two weeks away, but she couldn’t imagine Lord Snow wanting to
One bowl of porridge would have to
satisfy Nickel until dinner.
But it was clear from Nickel’s
glare that the only food that would satisfy her was Irene’s heart, fried and sliced on a plate. She would delight in eating
every bite of that gourmet treat.
“Nickel, you’ve been assigned a
chore,” the kennelman said. His voice was mild. A kennelman never had to raise his voice to a slave. Slaves
knew that they would live an exceptionally uncomfortable life if they failed to
mind their kennelman .
She left to clean her cell.
After the kennelman left, Peach said, “It seems, Lady Irene, that you have caused our whiphand some distress. I reckon that we’ll see how your
strong cunt holds up after it’s been well tenderized by her strap.”
Irene addressed all of the slaves.
“I hope that you’re all practicing with your weights every day. You’re going to
need your strength for one of my upcoming entertainments.”
Peach snickered. “It’s you that needs
those weights. The rest of us have a better way to excercise our cunts.”
Irene shrugged. “Suit yourself.
But don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”
After she finished cleaning her
cell, Nickel stayed inside until the other slaves had gone to the manor to
undertake their token chores of the day.
When Irene was alone, Nickel
emerged. She was wearing her corset and strap again.
“You locked my door,” Nickel said.
Irene didn’t bother to deny it.
“You were ordered to attend the entertainment.”
“I didn’t eat for three days.”
Irene nodded.
“And you didn’t eat me out for
three days. Come to my cell,” she said. She was clearly exerting effort to keep
her voice neutral.
Nickel was still Lord Snow’s whiphand and now she was itching for a reason to tenderize
Irene’s cunt. Her hand was twitching toward her strap as she waited for Irene
to refuse.
Irene did not.
In her cell, Nickel said, “I think
it would be good if we started fresh. No hard feelings. Water
under the bridge. All that.”
Irene didn’t believe a word that
Nickel was saying. That woman knew how to hold a grudge like no other.
“So I’m going to give you a chance
to show your good faith.” She lay on her cot and
spread her thighs wide.
Irene could have refused, could
have gone running to find Lord Snow, but she didn’t. This was her problem to
solve. A display of pride would only make it worse.
She sank to her knees, buried her
face in Nickel’s crotch, and began licking her musky cunt.
While Nickel’s moans increased in
volume and deepened in timbre, Irene thought about what was going to happen at
the next entertainment.
An entertainment that Nickel would
not be able to escape or avoid.
An entertainment
in which Nickel would have the starring role.
It made her task easier.
Nickel’s climax was explosive. The
more Nickel hated Irene, the more she was stimulated when she forced Irene to
degrade herself by pleasuring her enemy.
Irene’s face was lathered with a
froth of cunt juice when she left the cell.
Lime found her in the bathroom,
taking her second shower of the day, trying to make herself feel clean again.
“Irene, I have instructions from
Lord Snow. There’s a car coming to take you somewhere. I don’t know where. Lord
Snow didn’t say. You’re to wear a housedress and shoes. I left them on your
cot. The car’s going to be here in a half hour. You’ve
got to be ready.”
“I will,” Irene said as she turned
off the water.
She wondered if she had been sold.
It didn’t sound like it. When a slave was transferred to a new owner, she was
always naked, had her hands cuffed behind her back, and was leashed about the
neck.
Of course, that was just tradition,
not law. Lords could break tradition if they felt like it.
But surely Lord Snow wouldn’t have
sold her when he needed her to plan his next entertainment. That was still more
than two weeks away, but she couldn’t imagine Lord Snow wanting to
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