SIR SNOB: His Ass is SOLD!

A jarring bump brought Claibourne to attention from his restive sleep. 'Do they have no pavement in this forsaken land?,' he asked himself. He stopped keeping a tally of how many jolts occurred during the trip, counting them rather than sheep. It was a fruitless attempt to get back asleep. The carriage came to a stop. 'Thank goodness,' he mutely remarked. Just then the outer door swung open, revealing the blinding brightness of high noon. In jumped Madame Z with a smile.

This time she was decked out in purple regal wear, complete with lackeys at her flank, "I do trust you had a decent ride. These highways are not as they should be. Perhaps I shall volunteer your labor to the Land Improvement Force. Gina here," as she is joined by a buxom younger blonde, "after some alone time will take you to your private trappings," she chuckles at her own double entendre, "there you will then be groomed by her according to my specifications. Then you will properly present your ass to sate my lusty royal cock, of which you seemed so enamored."

Clay was disembarked from the transport and led to a modest but spacious single room. Upon Gina's exit he sits on the edge of the bed in contemplation. Sleep again gains his consciousness. And that, my friends, is the end of the beginning of this tale.

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