Part 17 (1/2)
When the slave in front of her stopped, she stopped, and the slave behind her stopped.
The hood m.u.f.fled her hearing but didn't deafen her. The room was filled with low-pitched chatter from the guests.
”Gentlemen,” Thorn said loudly, ”may I introduce your entertainment for this evening. Your host has arranged a very special and unique treat for you. A game that has never been played before and will likely never be played again.
”You see before you, thirteen blind, mute slaves. In a few minutes, you will be invited to acquaint yourselves with them. Touch them, give them orders, use them how you wish, within the usual parameters of an entertainment. But do not expect them to speak to you. They have been ordered to remain mute. They will not say a single word, under penalty of severe punishment.
”One of these slaves is special. You may have heard of the highborn lady, the wife of a lord, who voluntarily sold herself into slavery three months ago. I believe that many of you knew this lady personally invited her to dinners, danced with her at b.a.l.l.s, engaged in stimulating conversation. Maybe you even played card games with her and her husband.
”Your challenge is to examine these slaves and try to identify the only one in the room who was a t.i.tled lady before she sold herself into slavery.
”These slaves are masked and have been ordered to remain mute for the evening so that you may not see their faces nor hear their voices. If you ask them questions, they will not answer. But they are not deaf. You may give them orders and they will obey.
”If you believe that you have identified the highborn slave, we ask that you write your name on the slave's stomach with the permanent markers that have been distributed. By the end of the evening, every one of you should have marked your name on one and only one of the slaves.
”In three hours, we will reveal the ident.i.ty of the highborn slave. Every man whose name is inscribed on her stomach will be given a prize.
”These slaves have a strong incentive to act like perfect slaves and not like privileged ladies. The slave who has the most gentlemen's names written on her stomach will considered to have behaved inadequately and will be punished publicly in this room. We have devised an ingenious and amusing punishment for the unsatisfactory slave.
”If the slave who gathers the most names happens to be the one who was the highborn lady, then her owner has approved a second, additional punishment that has been designed especially for her. She doesn't know what it is, but I have advised her to work as hard as she can to blend in with all the other slaves so that she will not have to endure that additional cruel treatment.
”Does anyone have any questions?”
Someone asked, ”Can we order the slaves to nod if they were highborn?”
”Of course. And the highborn one will shake her head that she was not, just like all the others. In this game, there is no penalty for a slave lying to you. And she certainly isn't going to volunteer for the punishment that awaits the loser by telling the truth.”
Someone else asked, ”Do the slaves know how they will be punished if they lose the game?”
”No. They will be as surprised as you. Though I think the loser will be far less amused than you will be.” There was a round of approving guffaws.
Another man had a question. ”Sometimes t.i.tled ladies are adjudicated into slavery. There might be more than one highborn slave here.”
”No, there aren't. To be fair to you, I personally checked the records of every slave in the room. All the others were born to slavery or were adjudicated into slavery more than five years ago. The highborn lady enslaved herself only three months ago. Not only did she come from different stock, but she is also the least experienced slave in the room by far.”
”Any more questions?” Another pause. ”No? Then let the game begin. Gentlemen, enjoy your slaves.”
Flame stood for a minute with her hands at her sides, listening to the gentlemen shuffling around and chatting quietly to each other. She didn't know if men were already standing around her, looking at her, or if they had started with the slaves that entered first. All she could know is that she hadn't been touched yet.
That changed when a hand suddenly thrust itself into her crotch.
She spread her legs apart and squatted slightly to give the gentleman unrestricted access to her c.u.n.t.
A voice laughed. ”See! That's the automatic reflex of a slave born to the life. A highborn lady would have closed her thighs like a vice to keep me out. My fingers might well have been crushed flat.” The fingers continued to manipulate her lips, working their way inside her.
She had no idea what the gentleman hoped to find in there, but as nearly as she knew, a highborn v.a.g.i.n.a wasn't anatomically different from a commoner's.
One of the other nearby slaves squealed loudly. Flame had no idea what had been done to her, but it must have been something more surprising than having a hand thrust into her crotch. She was a little confused, though. She thought that there was only one slave following her into the room but the squeal that came from that direction was a little further away, not right next to her.
”I want to give this one a test run.” The voice was near her ear on the other side, but the gentleman wasn't referring to her because she heard the slave who had been standing beside her shuffle away.
Another nearby voice said, ”I bet the lady's a.s.shole isn't as loose as the other slaves'.”
”I don't know about that,” someone countered. ”She sold herself three months ago. She's probably been b.u.g.g.e.red plenty in the last twelve weeks.” He laughed. ”If she were mine, I'd have b.u.g.g.e.red her at least twice a day, every day, just to see the funny look on her face.”
”Pity that we can't see the funny look tonight. These d.a.m.n masks hide more than just the slave's ident.i.ty. One of these slaves might be crying her eyes out for all we know.”
”You'll know when the snot starts flowing out of her nose.”
Flame felt a heavy hand on her neck. ”Bend over, slave. And stick that a.s.s out.”
She bent at the waist and then bent her knees to thrust her a.s.s out.
Fingers invaded her a.s.shole, stretching her to the point of pain.
”Three fingers,” the voice said. ”This a.s.shole is plenty loose.”
”Let's try the next one on for size.”
The fingers withdrew and the voices moved away.
Flame stayed where she was, bent with her a.s.s sticking out, because she hadn't been given an order to stop holding the position. The perfect slave obeyed orders perfectly; and she was determined to be the perfect slave.
She had no idea what ”special punishment” would be administered to her if she were identified, but it had to be something severe if it required her owner's permission.
It might be something that caused permanent damage.
After a couple of minutes, she put her hands on her knees to take some of the strain off her back. That fell within the general order to ”bend over and stick your a.s.s out.”
”Why are you standing like that?” The voice was intimately close to her ear.
She almost said, because I was ordered to, before she remembered that she would be punished if she failed to remain mute. Not that the punishment would matter. She recognized the voice as belonging to Lord Snow. If she said one word, he would recognize her voice immediately and the game would be over. She would have earned two punishments.
Instead, she turned her head to face him so that he could see her lips pressed tightly shut.
”You look ridiculous,” he said. ”Stand up and stick your t.i.ts out. ... There you go. That looks a lot better. ... Are you Irene?”
She shook her head.
”If you were, that's exactly what you'd say. G.o.d, I wish I'd seen Lady Irene naked. I'd win a prize for sure. I should have seduced her when I had a chance.”
Flame wanted to tell him that he never had a chance. Lady Irene would never have slept with her husband's best friend. But she couldn't tell him that. And she would certainly sleep with him now, if ordered. Maybe that was his strategy. To talk to every slave about things that Irene would take personally and see if he could get a reaction from one of them.
She couldn't tell if he'd walked away or not, but he'd given her a new worry. If Snow had been invited then maybe her husband ex-husband James was here, too. As close friends, James was often invited to the same events as Snow.
If James were here, then the jig was up. James would surely recognize her body.
Or not. He hadn't seen her naked since the first year that they were married. And she'd changed since she'd been enslaved. She was thinner now, and fitter. It had only been twelve weeks but she didn't have a lady's body any more.
These men would have a ch.o.r.e identifying her as highborn.