Free A Gentlemen's Agreement by Ashley Zacharias

make the slaves act in some special way.”
    “I had hopes. Slaves are almost
always working to avoid punishment. I wanted to change that. When they were
starving, the food was a reward. Slaves don’t get many rewards and it showed. There’s
a big difference between falling to your knees in front of a man because you’re
afraid that he’ll beat you and sucking up to him because you’re hoping for a
treat.
    “The slaves couldn’t help but
express that difference in all kinds of subtle ways, from fawning at a man’s
feet to kissing his fingers. They were more willing to be forward. To beg for favors. The gentlemen liked it because it’s
something that they don’t normally see. They don’t often get their fingers
kissed and they certainly don’t get much sincere gratitude from slaves.
    “I guess I’d say that I tried to
change the slaves from property to pets. And a gentleman has to love a
slobbering pet more than he loves a piece of available meat.” She smiled. “The
slaves were happy to demean themselves more than they ever had before. It was
fun for me to see, too.”
    Lord Snow screwed his mouth into a
wry smile. “Maybe the slaves felt that the guests were rewarding them, but they
must have felt that you were punishing them by depriving them of food for two
days. Especially when they hadn’t done anything wrong.”
    Irene shrugged. “They don’t like
me much right now. That’s for sure. They’re going to be disappointed that you
fed me. They were really looking forward to seeing me suffer a more wretched
hunger than I’d made them endure.”
    “Don’t tell them that I fed you.
Let them think that you’re still suffering.”
    “I won’t tell them, but they’re
going to figure it out pretty quick. They’re not stupid. They’re going to
notice that I smell of food and that I’m not looking quite so keenly at any
crumbs left on the table after dinner.”
    “It’s hell to be in charge,” Lord
Snow said.
    “I’ll live with it.” Irene smiled.
    “Okay. Breakfast is over. Send
Nickel in.”
    Half an hour later, when Irene was
sitting at the table with the other slaves, listening to Nickel service Lord
Snow, she was thinking desperately about ways to entertain twenty-one
gentlemen, less than a week from now.
    If Lord Snow borrowed three, then
she’d have nine slaves to work with. She should be able to come up with
something interesting.
    The other slaves at the table had
nothing to say to her. They only glared at her while they listened to Lord Snow
use and abuse Nickel in the adjoining room.
    Irene wondered how she was going
to work the whiphand into the entertainment without
getting her own cunt tenderized on some trumped-up accusation.

 
    * * *

 
    On Tuesday morning, Irene found Tamarind alone in the
kitchen.
    “Not up at the manor?”
    “No, ma’am. Lord and Lady Snow are
hosting a dinner tonight, so there’s not much for the slaves to do. The others
offered to work in the garden. They like getting some air.”
    Since her promotion to director of
entertainments, the other slaves had started calling her ma’am . Irene knew that they meant it ironically, even
disrespectfully, but she thought it best not to make a point of it.
    “How did you become a slave?”
Irene was curious about the history of all the other slaves in the kennel.
    “The usual way,” Tamarind said. “I
was adjudicated.” Punished by the court when she was convicted of a crime.
    “What did you do wrong?”
    “I got caught.”
    Irene was annoyed by her
evasiveness. “What were you doing when you got caught?”
    “Running. Running as fast and as
far as I could.”
    “Running from what?”
    “The police, of course.”
    Irene sighed. “If you don’t want
to tell me, you don’t have to.”
    “Okay.”
    There was a strained silence for a
minute.
    “I heard that you’re going to
organize another entertainment on Saturday,” Tamarind said.
    “Yes.”
    “Are you going to starve us
again?”
    “No. We