Foreign Exchange
By Vanessa Cardui
Copyright 2015 Vanessa Cardui
Kindle Edition
"Gotta get up, Liera," said Maash, poking her in the ribs.
"Nm," Liera objected, pulling the covers over her head.
Another poke. "C'mon; we've got to meet the Krin of Krin for breakfast. Remember?"
"Nm!" Liera repeated, curling herself up as tight as she could. Maash was great, but the mornings were too . . . morning.
Maash poked her again. Liera had turned, so it was her butt that Maash got that time. And the poke turned into a pat, which turned into a long caress. "Nmmmm," said Liera, relaxing. Maybe mornings weren't quite so morning.
Then Maash got both her hands on on Liera's leg, and pulled her entirely out of bed.
"Dammit, Maash," said Liera, looking up at her. Maash was already dressed, a white tunic under an embroidered gold and blue robe; her dark skin and hair perfect against the colors.
"Up," said Maash.
"I'm up!" said Liera. "I'm up. Now let's go back to bed."
Maash laughed, and squatted down next to her. "Hands and knees," she said, and Liera complied, instantly ready. Maash was beautiful, even in the morning.
Maash started stroking her gently, running her hands along her breasts and flanks. According to the rules they'd established, Liera didn't get to sleep in clothing. At least she didn't have to sleep chained anymore; she'd earned . . . Maash's hands moved lower, and Liera lost her train of thought.
She thrust urgently against Maash's hand. She was already close; just a little more, and she'd . . . Maash pulled her hand away, and laughed.
"Maybe the Krin will allow that," she said. "But you're definitely starting your stay needy."
"My stay?" asked Liera. "Krin?"
"Oh, didn't I mention?" said Maash. "They saw us together, and they liked you. They're friends of my family, you know; anyhow, they asked to borrow you for a little while, and I agreed. You don't mind, do you?"
"Maash!" yelled Liera. "You can't just give me to random people without telling me!"
"Can't I?" asked Maash. "When you own something, you can give it away." She lowered her hand again. "Are you saying that I don't own you?"
"Noooo," said Liera.
"And you're going to make the Krin and his wife very happy, aren't you?"
"Yesss," said Liera. "Oh, please, Maash."
"And you'll be needy and enthusiastic, even if I let you finish now?"
"Yes," said Liera. "Oh, please, yes."
A sudden sharp slap brought tears to Liera's eyes. "That's as may be," said Maash. "But you'll do as you're told. And right now, I'm telling you to get up and get dressed."
Liera wanted Maash to keep touching her. Or to keep slapping her; either way. But she also wanted to do as she was told, so she groaned, and stood, and tried to find her clothing.
Maash was chattering cheerfully the whole time. The Krin of Krin was a landowner, of course, and his wife was a jeweler, apparently. Which explained why she'd decided to borrow Liera for some reason.
Liera had been living in Ralaath ever since school; she could speak the language well enough, and knew how to order a meal, or visit a mourner, but there were layers upon layers of things that she didn't understand. Particularly not the world Maash moved in; landowners and jewelers, priests and nobility. And a great many people who were just astonishingly perverted.
That part she was fine with. But the rest, the feeling that she was always missing something, that she was about to do something stupid—that, she could do without.
Maash let Liera put on a tunic that was more or less the same as the one Maash was wearing, but when Liera tried to put on an embroidered robe, she laughed, and gave her a light jacket instead. And a golden choker decorated with pinprick rubies. It was a lovely thing, probably worth more than the home that Liera had grown up in, and Maash just gave it to her, offhanded.
And apparently she was going to give Liera away, just as casually. That, Liera didn't like. Well, she liked it a little. But she didn't like that she liked it.
Breakfast was at a fish restaurant not far from Maash's place. They had cubes of fish and pumpkin there, and little blue-black bananas fried in strips. Liera's mouth started watering as soon as they came in, but when they sat down, the waiter only brought Maash a menu, not Liera. That happened often enough, but usually Maash would have them bring one for Liera; this time, not.
The Krin of the Krin came in soon after with his wife. He was a solidly-built man, with a walrus mustache and iron-gray hair. His wife was tiny, a lot shorter than Maash, who was a head shorter than Liera.
The waiter came up to Maash, who ordered while making introductions. Liera had been gifted to Maash's friends twice, but it had been people she'd known, and they'd talked about it first. It was very strange having to make small-talk with people who were going to be fucking her later, and whom she didn't really know.
Maash had just bought a block of flats down near the docks, and the Krin was interested in the specifics of the deal; whom she'd used as a banker, whether she planned on improvements, if she thought the market was right for other purchases of land in the cities. His wife nodded along, clearly not terribly interested, but occasionally offering comments.
Then the food came out, and not only had they not brought Liera a menu, they hadn't brought her a plate.
"Maash?" she said, when it was clear that there wasn't anything for her. "I can understand thinking I can't read, but even foreigners eat."
Maash laughed, and looked a little uncomfortable. "What have you done, Maash?" asked Liera.
The Krin's wife, whose name was apparently Jalah, shook her head. "Don't worry," she said. "It's nothing. Here, have some fish."
She speared one of the cubes of fish from her plate with the tine-knife, and held it out to Liera.
Liera looked over at Maash, who'd lost the uncomfortable look and seemed to be enjoying herself again. "Go on, take it; it's the only way you're getting food."
"Yes," said Jalah. "Until she comes to collect you. Have fish, it's good."
It was good, and she was hungry. Liera flushed red, and then bent over to take the bite of fish. "Good," said Jalah. "Here, also a bite of melon."
It was more than a little strange. Maash and the Krin kept talking about that block of flats, and Jalah seemed more interested in that conversation than in the girl she was feeding. And Liera sat there, hands folded in her lap, eating what Jalah chose to feed her, drinking from the cup that she tilted towards her.
By the time the waiters cleared away the plates, Liera was ready to go home with the Krin and Jalah, and do whatever they wanted.
They all stood up, and made their goodbyes. Maash stood on her tiptoes, kissed Liera on the nose. "I'll be back for you in a few days."
Liera flushed. "I'll miss you," she said, her throat tight.
"Yes," said Maash. "That's part of it. Now be good, and do as you're told."
Then Maash turned and left. The robe was tight enough that it clung to her hips. Liera watched Maash's ass leaving the restaurant, and wished she was leaving with it.
"Tschk!" said Jalah. "She is a lovely young woman, isn't she?"
"She absolutely is," agreed Liera.
"And very generous," said the Krin, looking at Liera. "Have her ready for me when I come home."
"Of course," said Jalah. "She will be aching for you."
The Krin took his walking stick from the stand near the door and strode out into the street, leaving Jalah and Liera sitting together.
There was a pause, as Jalah sat looking at her, and L
iera tried to come up with something to say.
"Mrs. Jalah?" she started.
Jalah put her finger on Liera's lips. "No. You are never to use my name. You may call me 'lady', if you are allowed to speak to me."
Liera hesitated, looked down.
"When you are given instructions, you will say, 'Yes, lady,' if you have understood them. And you will say, 'Thank you, lady,' to show that you appreciate my kindness. If it is my husband who gives you instructions, you will call him lord."
"Yes, lady," said Liera. "Thank you, lady."
"Very nice! You are . . . Liera, is your name?" Jalah stumbled slightly on the pronunciation.
"Yes, lady," said Liera.
"No," said Jalah. "Not a good name; I shall talk to Maash and have it changed. For now . . ." she looked abstracted, then reached out and pinched Liera's cheek, hard. Liera winced, but didn't pull away; the way she'd been fed breakfast, the instructions she'd been given . . . she didn't pull away.
"So soft, and so nicely pink," said Jalah. "You are a lovely little piglet; we shall call you that, until your lady gives you a more pleasant name."
Liera flushed.
"Yes, very good. Now come along, piglet; there is much that I have to do, and the day is passing."
Jalah headed out of the restaurant, and for all that she was tiny, Liera had to struggle to keep up. Maash lived down the hill, and it seemed that the Krin lived uphill; they went up past increasingly imposing mansions, and increasingly extensive grounds. The house that Jalah finally turned to wasn't one of the ones hidden behind hedges and fences, or guarded by men with halberds and repeating pistols, but it wasn't small, either.
Through the gate, there was a wide plaza, with shrubs and flowers along the sides, and a long stretch of stone tile between the gate and the house.
"You will take off Miss Enari's clothing now, piglet," said Jalah. Maash's last name was Enari, and she had been the one who'd given the clothing to Liera.
Liera looked around her. It was a quiet street, but it was still a street. There was a carriage clopping down the other way, and the guards at the house across the street were watching them, looking less bored than the others they had passed.
"Lady," said Liera. "Please, I—"
Jalah grabbed her by the nose, and pulled her head forward. "You say, 'Yes, lady, thank you, lady,' piglet. And then you do what you are told, like Maash told you, yes? Or I will tell her that I have been disappointed."
She let go, and Liera straightened up, hand twitching with the urge to rub her sore nose. "Yes, lady," she said around a lump in her throat. "Thank you, lady."
The fastenings on the jacket looked complicated, but Maash had showed her how to tie it, and how to untie it, with one hand and three tugs. It came undone and dropped from from her shoulders in a whisper of silk.
Liera took hold of the corners of the tunic, and hesitated. Jalah raised an eyebrow. Liera took a deep breath, and pulled it up, over her head. She was standing out on the street, wearing nothing but her shoes and the gold and ruby choker that Maash had given her. The carriage didn't slow, but the guards across the street were definitely less bored than they had been.
"Very nice," said Jalah, and touched the tip of Liera's nose. "Now, let us see what we have."
She grabbed Liera's left nipple and pulled sharply. Liera yelped and tried to pull away, but Jalah had a grip like a pair of calipers. "Silence, and still," said Jalah, sternly, and Liera tried to stay still. "Yes," said Jalah. "Very nice color. And perhaps even too sensitive. Down."
Liera hesitated, not knowing what Jalah wanted. "Down," said Jalah, pulling Liera's nipple downward. Overbalanced, Liera toppled, caught herself on her hands and knees. "Yes! See; down."
Jalah's hand was on the inside of her thigh. Liera's breath caught in her throat. She heard the carriage wheels slow and stop, and she could almost feel the eyes of the guards across the way burning into her as she waited on her hands and knees, while Jalah probed at her cunt.
"Not pierced at all," said Jalah. "Very neglectful, but girls will be girls. Very slippy, though; when did your lady last allow you an orgasm?"
"Yester—two days ago," Liera corrected herself. Remembering was hard. Maash had worked her over with the riding prod, and then gone down on her. It had been amazing, and what was happening was pretty great too, guards across the way or not.
"How clever of her to make you so responsive!" said Jalah. "I shall have to talk to her about her technique."
"Nnnnng," said Liera.
"Yes, yes. But not until my husband returns; he enjoys feeling the sensation of a climax. Is your anus prepared for penetration? Perhaps Miss Enari enjoys tormenting you in that fashion?"
Jalah had moved her hand up slightly, and was probing between Liera's buttocks.
"Sometimes," said Liera, trying for words. "Not . . . I don't know. . . I—"
"You will say, 'yes, lady,' or 'she does not, lady,' said Jalah. "You will not say, 'no', of course."
"Yes, lady," panted Liera. "Thank you, lady. Yes, lady, she enjoys tormenting me in that fashion." Jalah's fingers at her asshole were distracting, but not as distracting as they had been in her cunt. "But I don't know if it's sufficient for—ah!"
It was sufficient for two fingers at once, anyway.
"It should do," said Jalah. "Very well. You may finish taking off Miss Enari's clothing—they will be returned to her, of course."
Liera's hands went to her choker. She didn't want to take it off, but she also didn't want to be naked in the street, on her hands and knees.
"No, not that. Stupid piglet! The shoes, of course."
Liera flushed. She undid her shoes, left them next to the tunic and jacket.
"Very well," said Jalah. "And now you may follow me into the house."
Liera tried to stand, and was held down by a steady hand on her back. "No, you look very nice like this."
Red-faced, Liera crawled behind Jalah across the open plaza, up the stairs, and into the house.
It wasn't that much more private indoors. There was a valet who bowed to them as they came in, and a maid took the little bundle of Liera's clothing that Jalah had been carrying. "The staff will not take liberties," said Jalah, perhaps noticing Liera's hesitation at the way they looked at her. "Not this time. Perhaps if you beg prettily, Maash will lend you here again, for more general enjoyment."
She stopped, and turned to face Liera. "Would you like that?"
Liera hesitated. "I don't think that I would like that, lady," she said.
Jalah tsked, went around behind Liera, and stuck two fingers in her cunt. "Once again. Would you like to kept in a pen belowstairs, to be fucked by all the servants of the house, one after another?"
Liera could feel her muscles clench at that. "Yes, lady," she said. "Thank you, lady."
"There, you see? You should not attempt to hide what you are. And you should never tell fibs; bad things happen to girls who tell fibs." Jalah stood. "Of course, bad things will happen to you, regardless."
"Yes, lady," said Liera. "Thank you, lady."
"So charming," said Jalah, and patted her on the cheek. "It will be such a shame, what I will do to you."
Liera flushed, from her toes to her hair. She was very much interested in what Jalah was going to do to her.
"First the studio, I think," said Jalah.
Stairs were tricky, because Liera still wasn't allowed to stand, but she managed it, and was faintly proud of herself for being able to get into Jalah's studio.
It turned out to be an airy room, with a number of serious-looking tools, boxes and benches along the walls, and a heavy marble worktable in the center. There were tools and spools of metal thread on the table, silver and gold, and a scattering of gems, sparkling red and blue and green. But what drew Liera's eye was an ominous-looking hook hanging from the ceiling just next to the bench.
"Oh, very well," said Jalah. "You will be less eager the second time, perhaps. But what are your wrists?"
"M
y wrists? Um, lady? I don't . . ."
Jalah sighed. "A nine? A twelve? What is their circumference?"
"I don't know, lady," said Liera.
Jalah tsked. "There are not many things that Maash needs to teach her girls. But if we do not know your necessary measurements, it leads to imprecise decoration and restraint."
As far as Liera knew, she wasn't just one of Maash's girls; she was Maash's girl. And while Maash certainly both decorated and restrained her, she hadn't seemed to worry much about precision.
"Very well," said Jalah. She took a length of cord, wrapped it around Liera's wrists—first one, then then other. "A nine, and almost a nine-and-a-half for the right hand. I will have to make a note of this for Maash, and tell her to train you to use your left hand more frequently. It is not wise to allow these asymmetries to develop. And what do you work with your hand so much for, anyway, piglet?"
Liera blushed, and Jalah laughed. "No, surely Maash does not allow you that much liberty! But I suppose that there is a price to paid to keep you so responsive. Perhaps you will stroke yourself with your left hand too, sometimes."
As she was talking, Jalah had been opening drawers, taking things out, and putting them back. She took a pair of steel bracelets, lined with leather, and fastened them around Liera's wrists; the fit was tight, but not too tight. Then she strung a chain between them.
"Stand," said Jalah.
"Yes, lady, thank you, lady," said Liera, scrambling up to her feet. Jalah looped the chain over the hook, and started a winch.
"You may hold onto the chain," said Jalah, as the winch raised the hook up, and Liera did, trying to get a good grasp as her hands were lifted up over her head.
Jalah stopped it when it was high enough to keep her pulled up on her tiptoes, but not so high that she was off the floor.
"There," said Jalah. She stroked Liera's side, then dropped down to her thigh. It was sticky there, and Jalah raised an eyebrow at that. "Such enthusiasm. Well, perhaps there will be less soon."
She went over to the table, took up a bit of filigree. It was lovely, intricate gold work around a flat opal. "This was closer," she said. "Perhaps it will do for sale as second-rate work. Certainly better than third. But not what the Ahrin need, wouldn't you say?"
Foreign Exchange (The Concubine Chronicles Book 1) Page 1
