The Devil's Surrogate Read Free Page A

swivelling his head to watch the progress of
the glistening bodies with their bouncing bosoms, 'why the hood
thing? Don't want your clients to see what they're buying, is that
it?'
    Adam smiled,
but kept his face turned away so that his companion could not see
his amusement. It was the usual question, after all, and few
visitors understood without having it explained to them, sometimes
more than once, and then there were still those who were unable to
grasp the concept. 'The girls are slaves now,' Adam said very
slowly and deliberately. 'They all come from different backgrounds
- city streets, country lanes, and even, sometimes, from quite
comfortable circumstances. The only thing they have in common is
that they are comely, young, fit and pleasing to the eye. Once they
arrive here, however, they have everything and one thing in common,
the only thing that counts, namely that they are now slaves and
have no will, or choice, of their own. Neither will a pretty face
or a pleading smile avail them, not while they are kept hooded, as
you see most of them now. By hiding their faces we submerge their
individualities, indeed their very personalities. They soon come to
understand that now they are seen as only one thing, a means of
gratification and service to their masters and mistresses to be.
Here we view them only as one might view any other livestock. A
farmer doesn't value his cows by the prettiness of their faces,
after all!'
    Sir Peregrine
guffawed and nodded enthusiastically. 'Indeed not! A good point,
and well made, sir. Though a good brood mare may oft times be
judged by the lines of her muzzle and not just by her flanks.'
    'Which is why
we always give our buyers every opportunity to view the goods
properly before buying,' Adam said. 'Meantime, however, we keep the
bitches masked and their hair shorn, so that even when they are not
wearing the hood for bathing they all feel as if they look alike.
Besides, for those we send abroad, the lack of hair is an advantage
when it comes to ensuring they don't become flea-ridden during the
long voyage.'
    Sir Peregrine
retorted, laughing, 'Well, a few fleabites never hurt a wench,
that's for sure! But I daresay you fellows know your trade.'
    'Indeed we
do,' Adam muttered. 'The easier it is to keep our cargoes clean,
the more of them survive to reach their destinations. Lost stock is
lost money, Sir Peregrine, and I was raised to abhor waste in any
shape or form.'
    'Well, I must
say, the shapes and forms about here are most pleasing.' Peregrine
leered as another pair of hooded and harnessed slaves appeared at
the end of the barn, followed by an even younger groom. These two
girls were very pale-skinned; evidently their bodies had never been
exposed to the elements.
    'These two,'
Adam said, noting Peregrine's renewed interest, 'come from the
north, probably from the Norse lands. They were purchased cheaply
from a Scandinavian sea captain who needed money to affect some
urgent repairs to his vessel after a storm forced him to turn into
Harrogate two weeks since.'
    'But you'll
not be offering them on so cheaply, I'll venture.'
    'Business is
business, Sir Peregrine,' Adam smiled at him again. 'Besides, the
prices are none of my business. Sir Roderick sees to that side
himself.'
    'When he's not got one or another of his little piccaninnies sucking on
the end of his cock, that is?' Peregrine sniffed, and then let out
a raucous laugh. 'Damned if I can see what he finds so attractive
in that pair of black wenches. Not one of them stands any higher
than this!' He raised a hand to about the level of his heart.
'Probably only keeps them because nobody else would pay good money
for such freaks!'
    Adam refused
to be drawn out. Like Sir Peregrine, he found little he considered
attractive in the two diminutive African girls, but then he knew
that tastes varied, and he was not about to decry those of his
employer, who very much enjoyed the doglike devotion and willing
mouths of Popsy and Topsy, and