"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 embarra.s.s 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 sc.r.a.ped 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 un.o.bstructed view of her hairless s.e.x. 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 grat.i.tude 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 embarra.s.sed 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 a.s.shole," 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 a.s.sholes were torn up pretty badly. It's an awkward place to get st.i.tches. You'll always have lube in your supplies. That's standard. I recommend that you lube the plug, insert it up your a.s.shole, and wear it there for at least an hour a day to keep yourself stretched. I also recommend that you pack your a.s.shole 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 a.n.a.lly. 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 s.e.x and a.n.a.l s.e.x? About two inches.

She had seen the tube of lubricant in the wardrobe. She knew what that it was used for s.e.x 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 a.s.shole and then inside as far as her fingers could reach.

It felt strange. She had never had her fingers in her own a.s.shole 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 a.s.shole. Or put his c.o.c.k in there. Was that his preference? If she had offered her a.s.shole to her husband, would they have had s.e.x 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 s.h.i.t the object out.

The opposite happened. When the body s.h.i.ts, the sphincter muscles relax to allow the bolus to pa.s.s. 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 s.h.i.t. She was stretched but the plug wasn't pa.s.sing 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 l.u.s.ty man's c.o.c.k; 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 pa.s.sively in her a.s.s, 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 pa.s.sed. 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 pa.s.sed the time on the chair by counting slowly to three thousand and sixty.

When she stood up, the plug immediately slid out of her a.s.s. 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 a.s.shole 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.

She would get drenched walking all the way down the hill to the bookstore, but she had no choice. She couldn't wait for a sunny day to learn to cook. Here by the Western Sea, it sometimes rained for weeks without stopping.

The housedress had no pockets. That was standard for a slave dress. n.o.body wanted his slave to be able to fill her pockets with items stolen from the house. An owner could not keep a slave that he could not trust and it was expensive to lose slaves that way. So Flame had to carry the twenty-plaq note and the electronic gate key in her hands.

By the time she reached the end of the block, her dress was drenched and clung to her like green skin. Pa.s.sers-by could see that she was wearing no bra or underwear.

Young men slowed their cars and shouted lewd comments at her. Old ladies called her shameless when she pa.s.sed their houses.

But no one molested her physically. By definition, a slave could not be raped. She did not own her body so she had no right to decide what anybody else did with it. But property could be mistreated and a man who was wealthy enough to own a slave was powerful enough to exact terrible vengeance on anyone who was foolish enough to mistreat his property.

Commoners knew that molesting a slave was not worth the risk. Certainly not on a public street in broad daylight.

On a dark, empty street after midnight, it would be a different matter. The wise slave would never leave her kennel after dark. And the owner who sent her out would have to expect her to come back well used by anyone who found her.

The walk down the hill was long, cold, and miserable.

She could not touch the books with wet hands so she stood inside the entrance to the bookstore and dripped on the doormat for a long time.

The clerk glared at her in disgust. Female customers ignored her but male customers ogled her openly.

She kept her eyes lowered, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

Her dress did not dry but, eventually, her hands did. As soon as she could touch paper without leaving a mark, she sought out the shelves with cookbooks and perused the t.i.tles. Learning to Cook looked like the best one, but it cost twenty-five plaqs and she had only twenty. Cooking Essentials cost fourteen-ninety-nine so she took that to the cash.

The clerk didn't look at her or speak to her, just took the money, put it in the register, and closed the drawer.

Flame stood there for a moment waiting.

When the clerk signaled for the next customer, Flame said, "I need the change and a receipt."

"No change," the clerk replied.

"Then the receipt will say that the book cost exactly twenty plaqs."

Flame couldn't believe that anyone would be so petty. When she was a lady, no clerk had ever dared treat her with anything less than servile accommodation. But, lady or slave, she was going to keep standing right here in front of the cash until she got what she was due from this stupid creature.

The clerk stared at her and she stared back.

The waiting customer said, "I can't wait all day. Get this settled."

Flame spoke again. "You do realize that I'm a slave, right? I can't own anything so this is not my money or my book. You aren't trying to cheat me; you're trying to cheat my owner. He will not like that."