Read Online Their Master's Pleasure by B. A. Bradbury - Free Book Online Page A

pray it doesn’t come to that. I’m sure you’ve already guessed what the game entails - I roll just a single die this time to give a score between one and six, you pour out that many glasses of semen, then I drink them down. Should I fail to complete the task, you will give me a dozen strokes of the cane for each glass I am unable to drain completely.’
    The problem was immediately clear to me, but for the moment I put it to the back of my mind. I pictured Elizabeth sitting at the dining room table with a row of champagne flutes in front of her - flutes filled to the brim with cold, sour semen. I could almost see her face as she raised that first glass... lifting it reluctantly to her lips... tipping it back. I could imagine the horror and revulsion that would sweep across her face as she gulped down the thick slime.
    This happy image dissolved as reality intruded and I sighed, shaking my head ruefully. ‘And just where, precisely, were you thinking we might obtain a quart of semen?’
    â€˜Well...’ she said, looking somewhat perplexed, ‘from you, uncle.’
    â€˜From me ? Are you serious?’
    â€˜Perfectly serious. Why, is there a problem?’
    I suppose some men might be flattered she thought them capable of filling a quart jug at short notice, but not me. This was no vote of confidence in my virility, rather a demonstration of her total ignorance of male potency.
    â€˜My dearest Elizabeth,’ I said, ‘I am a mere mortal. It would take me months to fill a quart jug - many, many months, I suspect. I wasn’t planning on waiting quite so long to play this new game of yours, to be frank.’
    â€˜Oh,’ she said, somewhat nonplussed, ‘I see. But... couldn’t you enlist the help of the other men here? Surely together you could manage it?’
    These ‘other men’ comprised one hall-boy, one stable boy, one groom and one gardener, the latter pair so elderly and decrepit we’d be lucky to get a thimbleful a week apiece. Again I shook my head. ‘Not even then, I’m afraid. We would need many more men, dozens in fact, to collect the amount you’re talking about in a reasonable timescale.’
    She frowned and I could see she was thinking furiously. Clearly she wasn’t about to give up on this, for Elizabeth was nothing if not tenacious. Then her face cleared. ‘But it’s so simple! There are dozens, little more than a mile from here. I’m sure all the men in the village would be willing to contribute - certainly they would if you gave them a copper or two each for their trouble.’
    Now I was the one shuddering in horror as I imagined the diseases and pestilence that lot must carry between them. The risk to Elizabeth’s health from such a scheme was simply too awful to contemplate and I shook my head sadly. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. It’s a most tempting idea, but I’m afraid I have to reject it. As dearly as I would love to play My Cup Runneth Over with you, it’s simply not feasible.’
    â€˜Very well,’ she said dejectedly. ‘If that’s your decision, then of course I must abide by it. I see now that I should have prepared an extra game for just such a situation as this, but it never occurred to me you might reject one. I shall need a little more time, I’m afraid, to come up with a replacement.’
    â€˜That may not be necessary,’ I said. ‘Let’s hear the third before we decide anything.’
    â€˜As you wish, uncle. The final game is called Ride-a-Cock-Horse. For this we shall need two phalluses, again just a single die, and Dobbin.’
    â€˜Who or what in God’s name is Dobbin?’
    â€˜My old rocking horse in the nursery. His paint’s a bit chipped in places and he’s lost most of his mane and tail, but he’s still in good working order. The stirrups will have to be lengthened, but I can see to that. Dobbin will need