Slave of the Aristocracy: Book One – On the Auction Block

by Ashley Zacharias

  This was less humiliating than being treated as the lady that she no longer was.

  The other six men in the room looked at him in admiration. Grenfeld was a man who knew how to get proper service from a slave.

  Sapphire and Flame stayed on their knees until the last man, Dodge, had left the room.

  He glanced back and grinned at them. They had made him a happy man.

  Flame noticed, but she didn’t have the heart to raise her head and acknowledge his success.

  * * *

  Sapphire had to help Flame to her feet. Flame’s body ached to her bones and her spirit had been crushed to ash. Sapphire felt only physical exhaustion.

  As she gathered up the dresses, hairpins, and shoes that had been discarded at the beginning of the entertainment, Sapphire said, “That wasn’t too bad. You were cuffed for a while, but nobody got paddled. Or worse.”

  Flame looked at the shelf of toys. She saw paddles, floggers, dildos, vibrators, clamps, and a variety of ropes and chains. Except for the cuffs, they hadn’t been used.

  “An evening of straight sex is about as good as entertainment gets,” Sapphire said. “But even that leaves you pretty sore.”

  Flame nodded and took some of the clothes out of Sapphire’s hands.

  As they padded down the stone corridor back to the kennels, Flame in bare feet and Sapphire still in red stockings, Sapphire said, “That baronet had a special hard on for you. For a while, I was afraid that he was going to do something terrible to you.”

  He had, but Flame would never be able to explain it was so that Sapphire would understand. “Last year, when I was a lady, I refused a dance with him.”

  Sapphire giggled. “As a slave, you’re never going to refuse a dance with anyone again.”

  Flame managed a bitter laugh. “That’s what I volunteered for.”

  “We say that any ill a slave does to a man will be visited on her a hundred fold in return. That doesn’t start when a woman is enslaved, it extends all the way back to her birth.” Another cruel truth about the life of a slave. “I’ve had hundreds of strokes of the cane visited on my back and that was for doing only what I was commanded.”

  Flame looked at Sapphire and felt ashamed by her weakness. As cruelly as Grenfeld had treated her, Sapphire had lived through far worse. Flame was no longer a lady who had the luxury of delicate sensibilities. A slave had to be tough enough to survive any humiliation, no matter how sharply it cut.

  “How did you become a slave?” Flame asked.

  “I didn’t become a slave. I was born to it. My mother’s owner decided to breed her for profit. He withdrew the contraceptive injections and let her get pregnant. She dropped a new slave every year for ten years.”

  Flame knew that some were born into slavery but she’d never thought about the horror of it. “Were you… As a child, were you… You know… used… like tonight?”

  Sapphire shook her head. “No. That doesn’t happen much. Few men are interested in children. Especially slave owners who can get fucked any time they want by a woman who’s far more compliant than any child. Also, the government keeps an eye on child slaves to make sure that they are treated properly. No one cares about adult slaves but children get inspected every month. And they get surprise inspections on top of that. Child abuse would start a scandal that would blacken the name of every slave owner.”

  “When were men first allowed to use you?”

  “I was sold at fifteen. I’ve been owned by twenty-two different men since then. I saw my value rise from nineteen thousand to a high of thirty-one and drop down to twelve. Every slave knows what she’s worth to the nearest plaq.” Sapphire glanced at Flame. “How much did you fetch?”

  “Dodge paid a hundred thousand for me.”

  Sapphire’s eyes grew wide. “I’ve met seventy-five thousand plaq slaves before, but never a hundred thousand.”

  “I was a novelty. But I wasn’t the most expensive. My husband paid a hundred and fifteen for a slave at the same auction.”

  “Really? That’s the highest price that I’ve ever heard. You’re sure? A hundred and fifteen thousand plaquettes sterling?”

  “I saw the bidding myself.”

  “She must have been something special.”

  “She was a felon. She’d been convicted of adopting a false identity for the purpose of sedition.”

  “Oh. She was high-born.”

  “How did you know?”

  “You know what that means? Adopting a false identity for the purpose of sedition?”

  “That she was some kind of revolutionary?”

  “Hardly. Every so often a highborn woman is adjudicated into slavery on that charge. It’s always a lady who was engaged to someone of rank – a lord, at least, or maybe even an earl – and tried to run away. The running away is the false identity – she was pretending that she wasn’t a fiancée – and the high rank of her fiancé made it sedition. An insult to the nobility. The highborn punish disrespect and disobedience severely, especially from their own. You didn’t know that? I thought that you were highborn.”

  “I didn’t try to run away from my engagement. I never heard of anyone who did. It’s something that just isn’t done. Every lady that I know respects and obeys both her father and her husband. Within reason.”

  “I guess not many try to strike out on their own when getting caught means getting adjudicated into slavery.”

  Flame thought about that the rest of the way back to the kennel. For her entire life, she had been told, every day and in every way, what it meant to be a highborn lady. No one had ever mentioned that there would be consequences for disobedience. It had simply never been an issue.

  Until it did. Until she couldn’t stand being a lady any longer and fled into a life of slavery.

  “You shower first,” Sapphire said. “You look like you’ve been racked.”

  Before she stepped into the bathroom, Flame looked hard at Sapphire. “When we were giving a show at the beginning. When I was licking you. Did you … you know … really come?”

  Sapphire blushed. “No. Just part of the act.” She spoke too quickly for that to be true.

  Flame smiled. “Pity. I know how hard you worked to save me from the worst tonight. You deserve all the thanks that I can give you.”

  Sapphire blushed a deeper shade of red. “Just doing my job.”

  Flame felt good about having given Sapphire a few moments of pleasure, job or not.

  * * *

  In the morning, Sapphire was gone before the Flame awoke. The kennelman didn’t arrive until later in the morning.

  “How did it go last night?”

  “The entertainment?”

  “What else? I have a note that it was your first. After an entertainment, you need a full checkup to make sure that nothing is torn or broken.”

  “Your advice about keeping my asshole loose and lubed saved me a lot of grief. Thank you.”

  “Just part of the service.”

  “My jaw is pretty sore. I want to thank you properly but I’d like to wait until tomorrow so that I can do a proper job. Do you mind?”

  He smiled. “I’ll look forward to tomorrow.”

  Dodge didn’t seem too bad for an owner, but Barry was the only man who treated her like she was a human being. She was grateful for that more than for any specific help or favor that he extended.

  “Your lessons helped a lot,” she said, “but I learned a couple of new tricks from another slave last night. I think you’ll like them.”

  “Now I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

  As usual, Barry tidied her cell while she showered and brushed her teeth.

  After she dried off, he examined every part of her and pronounced her fit for service.

  Dodge stopped by at noon and brought some lunch for her.

  “You did well last night. My friends were impressed.”

  “Thank you. Sapphire turned out to be a real gem.”

  “You were right to borrow
her.”

  “Mrs. Dodge borrowed her.” Flame looked at him carefully. “May I give you some advice?”

  “If it’s about proper comportment, then always. That’s your primary job.”

  She was pretty sure that her primary job was sex toy and that etiquette tutor was secondary, but she wasn’t about to start an argument with a man who owned her and a cane and a whipping bench. “Mrs. Dodge has to phone Lady Hoffman and thank her for lending the slave. She should do it today between three and four o’clock. This is really important. It’s easy to do but she has to do it right and she has to do it today. She can’t wait to take care of it.”

  “Don’t tell me. Go up to the house and tell her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Make sure that she does it right.”

  “Yes, sir.” And she would undoubtedly get kicked around the house for her efforts. Mrs. Dodge was fond of putting her boots to her.

  After Dodge left, Flame decided that it was best to get the painful task over with right away.

  She found Mrs. Dodge in the parlor.

  “Mrs. Dodge?”

  The woman stared at her in disgust.

  “Mrs. Dodge, Mr. Dodge asked me to talk to you for a minute about Lady Hoffman.”

  The woman gestured to a chair.

  Flame had never been invited to sit in her presence before. She didn’t know what that meant.

  “Lady Hoffman did you a kindness last night.”

  Mrs. Dodge sniffed. “Some kindness. Lending me a slave to … entertain my husband and his cronies.”

  “I know. I always hated it when I had to do it, too. Always. But there’s a protocol to follow. A fiction that must be maintained.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You have to phone Lady Hoffman this afternoon to thank her. It would be best to call between three and four. That’s long enough after lunch that she’ll be finished with her early afternoon chores but early enough that she won’t be too caught up in preparing for any evening events. The favor that she did for you was considerable.” Flame didn’t mention that she had sent the most badly-scarred slave that she’d ever seen. To lend any slave to a woman with no title was generous. “Your gratitude can be effusive. Within reason. You have to be sincere. You can’t sound like you might be sarcastic. Then you have to offer her a favor. Don’t be specific. Just say that you would be happy to help her in any way that she might desire in the future. She’ll know exactly what you mean.” Flame couldn’t meet Mrs. Dodge’s eyes when she said that. She was instructing Mrs. Dodge to offer her for a night of entertainment at the Hoffman manor. Another night when she would be available for any kind of sex that was desired by any man in the room.

  Mrs. Dodge understood, too, and shook her head in disgust. Her foot twitched, but she didn’t lash out at Flame. Yet.

  Flame pressed on. “What’s important about this call is that it is one of the few opportunities that you’ll ever have to contact a titled lady on your initiative. It’s a rare chance but you must not overplay it. Just thank her sincerely and offer to return the favor. Don’t try to engage her in any further conversation. If she wants to talk about anything else, then let her speak with you and respond naturally. But that’s not likely. After you’ve said what you have to say, that you’d be honored to do her any favor that she might wish at any future opportunity, the conversation will be over, but you must not hang up the phone. She must be the one to hang up. That’s important. She has the rank so it’s her prerogative to decide when the call is over. It will probably feel completely natural when she responds to your offer and then disconnects. The whole call is going to be easy and feel natural to both of you, but it must be done today. Waiting for a few days would be rude.”

  “I understand.”

  “Oh, and one other thing. It’s possible that she won’t be available to speak and that you’ll be talking to her maid or secretary. Just leave a message that you would like to thank Lady Hoffman personally for the favor that she did for you and leave your name and number. She’ll probably call back, but don’t be offended if she doesn’t. That would only mean that she has accepted your gratitude already.”

  “I understand. I just thank her for sending the slave to help me.”

  “God, no. Don’t say that the slave helped you. Any reference to the work that the slave did would be a serious breach of courtesy because it would remind her of the underlying truth of the situation. Just say that you want to thank her for her favor. That’s all. You can say that you want to thank her so much or that you are deeply grateful. You have lots of latitude in how you describe your gratitude. But don’t refer to anything about what the slave did or didn’t do. You aren’t supposed to know anything about what she did or how she performed or how satisfactory she was.”

  Mrs. Dodge smiled wryly. “This call might not be so easy as you say.”

  “Sure it will. You’ll do great. Just keep it simple.”

  “I do have one question,” Mrs. Dodge said.

  “Of course.”

  “Did Lady Hoffman’s slave perform to everyone’s satisfaction?”

  Flame’s blush burned so brightly on her face that she earned her name.

  Mrs. Dodge laughed in delight. “You really are a lady inside. You foolish, foolish slave.”

  Flame was still blushing but she forced a smile and replied, “Sapphire’s performance was delightful.”

  “Get out of here.” There was no kindness in Mrs. Dodge’s voice.

  When Flame rose from the chair and turned to the door, Mrs. Dodge kicked her ass so hard that she almost flew out the door.

  But that evening, when Mrs. Dodge told Flame to go to the bathroom and wait for her dinner, she set a plate of fresh food on the floor instead of dumping scraps directly on the tiles.

  And she didn’t step in it before she left.

  Flame was discovering that Mrs. Dodge had a subtle and sophisticated sense of humor.

  And she had been learning Flame’s lessons in comportment well.

  She was no fishwife. If she were titled, she would fit well into proper society.

  * * *

  The Dodges hosted a half dozen formal dinners over the next three weeks. These were smaller than Flame’s first entertainment – only two couples were invited at a time. After each dinner, she was brought to the billiard room to service the three gentlemen by herself.

  She had learned a lot from her duet with Sapphire and was clever enough to adapt it to a solo show that was less elaborate but just as theatrical.

  She always began dressed as a lady, complete with proper makeup and hair. When she was led into the billiard room, she stripped slowly and provocatively, telling the men what it felt like to be transformed from a lord’s wife to a slave. That was her special story and she told it well.

  After she let her hair down, she would bend over a padded bench and offer “Gentleman’s choice!” The two guests would use her; Dodge never bothered taking her himself. Most of the men penetrated her cunt rather than violating her asshole.

  Next, while she was still bent over, Dodge would exhort her to “give his honored guests her all!” To motivate her, he would administer a light paddling that stung and reddened her ass.

  The paddling was her idea but Dodge was happy to play along.

  She would squirm and bounce theatrically, shrieking comically and playing the clown. The paddling hurt, but the men’s laughter took a lot of the sting out of the strokes. She enjoyed pleasing them.

  Later, after the men sat with drinks and conversed for a while, they would return to her. She would sink to her knees and service the men orally. Those were her finest moments. She had developed considerable expertise with her lips and tongue and could give a man more than a quarter hour of exquisite frustration as she teased him with almost enough stimulation to climax but not quite.

  At close, she would be handcuffed and left on her knees, her head hanging in shame, her hair a curtain around her face, her inner thighs sticky with the jui
ces of the strangers who had recently violated her. She was the picture of a degraded and humiliated slave – a poignant contrast to the high and haughty lady that had entered the room at the beginning of the entertainment.

  After the men had cleared the room, she would unlock herself with the key that was left on the toy shelf, clean the room, and retire to her kennel.

  She had become an accomplished entertainer and she felt appreciated by the gentlemen. The morose knight, Sir Drake, was a guest more often than not, and even he lightened up and laughed at her antics when she was being paddled. He, more than any other guest, seemed to love the erotic frustration of her artfully-prolonged fellatio.

  Occasionally one of the guests would be mean-spirited. A couple of them violated her asshole with fast, hard thrusts that were intended to cause pain and elicit tears. She was fastidious about keeping herself stretched and lubed and those men never caused damage. But she satisfied them by screaming and gasping and beating her fists ineffectually against the bench. And when a guest urged Dodge to strike hard with the paddle, urged him to make it really hurt, he always obliged and delivered a solid punishment to her ass. She stopped the clowning and took the beating like a properly-chastised slave, whimpering and crying.

  But she and the other guests understood that those just the ways that some gentlemen were best amused. None of them tried to crush her as subtly and as brutally as Grenfeld had.

  She was given nothing that she couldn’t handle with ease and élan.

  Dodge always visited her the day after a formal dinner and debriefed her. He wanted her assessment of the titled men that she had entertained. These were knights and baronets that she had seldom met before so she could give little background. Sometimes she had a heard a bit of gossip about one or two, but nothing of consequence.

  More important, he also expected her to listen carefully to the men’s conversation when she was slumped on the floor after her paddling. Dodge encouraged the titled gentlemen to talk about their society. He loved to hear anecdotes and gossip.