His Black Pearl Read online

  I’m calmer by the time he finally releases me, and when he plucks a tiny blue flower from the base of our swing, I’m not even angry. I can’t think of this as a setback. No, if anything I should be thrilled to know that hope is not only out there, but so close at hand. I can escape. I know I’ll escape. And once I do, I’ll run right up to those big city walls and scream out for help just as loud as I can.

  Now all I have to do is figure out how to get away.

  Master traces the tiny blossom across the edge of my lips, and its fragrance is temptingly sweet. The petals are just as blue as his eyes, and when he twines its long stem through the braid of my hair, I steal a quick peak at his face. His lips are taut, his expression pensive. He’s lost in thought, and I can only imagine what he must be thinking about me.

  Does he realize what I plan to do? Was this all just a test of my loyalty? Did I just blow my only chance of ever gaining his trust?

  I try to stay calm, but it’s so hard to hide my feelings, and this man is so perceptive. He hasn’t ever truly spoken to me, but I feel like he knows me better than I know myself. Surely he knows how badly I want to get away—he has to—and that means he’ll have to change tactics, right? A light hand wouldn’t break me, so surely a hard one will. I can already imagine the beatings to come, the rapes, the torture. Oh, God, he’s going to turn me into Miss Priss, and there’s nothing I can do. He’s going to break me down and…and…

  A warm breath tickles my ear. I didn’t even know I’d closed my eyes until I open them now and see Master leaning over me. His cheek brushes mine. His teeth nibble my ear. He rubs my neck, my shoulders, all the while shushing me, comforting me, and when his mouth drifts down to my breasts, I can’t even remember why I was so scared.

  My breaths quicken.

  His hands move from my breasts to my hips and then all the way down to my thighs. He parts my legs. He strokes my clit, and I moan for him without even thinking. He reaches into his pocket, and when he pulls out something long and pink and slim, a little part of me is almost as excited about this new toy as Samson was about his peppermint.

  It’s the vibrator, the same one he used on me when I’d pleasured Miss Priss. Just thinking about the feel of that tiny device has my pussy wet and my heart racing. I keep waiting for him to stick it in—I want him to stick it in—but he doesn’t. He just holds it up to me and raises an eyebrow.

  Is he…is he giving me a choice?

  I freeze. How can he be giving me an option? I’m his. If I need any reminder of his power over me, all I have to do is feel my collar or chain or even my pearl.

  My pearl…

  Its weight presses against my neck every day, but it’s become so much a part of me that I hardly even notice it anymore. I reach up to touch it, but my gloved hand can barely even feel its shape through the padding of my palms.

  What should I do?

  He’s waiting. He doesn’t try to rush me. I can tell he knows I’m weighing all my options, but I’ve never been a fast thinker. Back in school, all I ever did was memorize facts and repeat whatever mathematical tricks I’d learned from my teachers. I never thought for myself. I just did what I was told when I was told, and never once did I question the status quo.

  I close my eyes.

  Dear God, is that what I’m doing now? Does all of this seem so easy because it’s what I’ve been trained to do my whole life?

  I suck in a quick breath.

  This is all so sick. I’m a good girl. I never wanted to be bad, but now this monster has found me and exploited the very aspect of my nature that my own parents and teachers once praised. I shouldn’t want him to touch me, much less stick that vibrating phallus up my cunt, but I do.

  I really do.

  I lick my lips. If I was smart, I’d close my legs right now and damn his disappointment. This has all gone too far. It’s one thing to play along as a means of gaining his trust, but to actually want to be violated, to beg him to stick that sick, perverted object up my cunt is just…just…

  Exactly what I’m about to do.

  My eyes are still closed when I open up my legs. I lift up my hips. I thrust my pelvis into the air, and when I feel that sleek, silicone toy slip inside me, my lips form a tiny “O” of delight.

  Oh, dear Lord in heaven, please don’t hate me for this.

  Just feeling the pressure, the weight of it inside me is enough to make me sigh, but when Master flicks the switch and that little toy comes to life inside me, a part of myself I’d always denied screams into being as well.

  Oh, God, yes!

  I buck. I pant. I writhe against my master’s muscular arms and oh-so-hard chest. I feel the swell of his cock against my back, but not once does he thrust himself inside me. No, instead he explores my body with his hands, his mouth, his eyes. I open myself up to him. I let myself belong to him. Once more, I push aside all my doubts and just embrace the moment.

  And what a moment it is.

  His hands knead my ass, my breasts. His lips trace a trail from the hollow of my neck to the curve of my hip. His teeth nibble my ear. His tongue taunts my nipples.

  I moan and gasp through all he does to me, but still I want more, so much more. When he finally removes the vibrator from my cunt, I can’t hold back my sigh. He strokes my face. More of those incomprehensible foreign words spill over his lips, but only one matters to me.

  “Sona.”

  God help me, but I love it when he tells me sona.

  To the west, the sun is setting.

  The hours have passed so quickly. Already a cool breeze hits my sweat-lathered skin, and I shiver against the chill. But of course, I’m not cold for long. Master lifts me up in his strong arms and clutches me to his chest. His scent washes over me. It’s strong and earthy, everything a man’s should be, and I take a long deep breath as he carries me back across the yard.

  I don’t think any other man on earth could ever smell so right.

  Out in the paddock, Samson gallops along the fence line. Just ahead, White Coat lights a cigarette in front of the kennels. He nods to us and opens the main door before jogging ahead to unlock my cage.

  I’d almost forgotten about my cage.

  Master settles me gently into my kennel, and my breath hitches when the lid closes above me. Sweet Jesus, what is wrong with me? I should be relieved to have a moment to myself, but instead, I…I…

  Moisture presses against the backs of my eyelids, and my throat tightens. Master reaches a hand through the bars, and God help me, I press my cheek into his palm.

  Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.

  The thought is sick, perverted, and more horrifying than anything I could ever imagine, but I can’t deny its truth. I want this man near me. I want to feel his hands on my skin. I want to hear those softly spoken words I can’t understand. I want to know that I’m not alone, that my master’s here and he’ll take care of me and I’ll never have to worry about anything ever again.

  Oh, God, how messed up is that?

  Master’s lips curve into a soft smile, and he strokes away my tears with the tip of his thumb. I watch him, and he watches me. I know I’m more naked now than I’ve ever been before, but I don’t care. I need him, and if that means—well, we both know what that means, but so be it. He can take me just as long as he doesn’t leave me. Ever since these monsters brought me here, the only truly happy moments I’ve had have been in his presence, and right now I just can’t bear to let him go.

  It’s fucked up, but at least it’s true.

  His eyes don’t leave mine, and my pulse is pounding against the back of my throat by the time he finally speaks to White Coat. The groom leaves the room momentarily, but when he comes back, he’s carrying a chair. Master’s hand never leaves my face as he takes a seat in front of my cage.

  On the other side of the room, Miss Priss snorts, but she can pout all she likes. Master’s eyes are on me now, and from the depth of his gaze, I don’t think he’ll be splitting his attention anytime
soon. For some reason, the thought makes me grin.

  “Isa.” Master shakes his head, but his voice is soft, almost teasing. “Isa, Isa, Isa.”

  He rubs his hand down my back, and my legs automatically part to let his fingers brush my cunt. He rubs my clit, and I groan.

  Oh, God, it feels so good.

  I know I should keep my mind on other things. Freedom, that’s what I should focus on. But when Master’s with me, when his fingers are inside me and his strong hands stroke my hair, all thoughts just fade away. Gently, he guides my head to the pillow beneath me. Ever so softly, he closes my eyes. With one hand still buried in my cunt, he strokes my body with the other and whispers oh-so-sweet musings into the darkness.

  That night I welcome the dreams of my bondage.

  Chapter Nine

  The summer heat grows hotter with each passing day.

  More and more often my afternoons are spent inside the villa instead of beneath the shade tree in the yard. I’m sure I should prefer to be outside—the chance of freedom seems so much greater when I’m sitting beneath that giant apple tree than it does here in the house—but the air outside is thick and hot and Master’s study is so much cooler.

  I burrow my face into the over-stuffed pillow placed beside Master’s desk and sigh into its softness. God, it feels so good against my skin. Light blue silk covers the body of my bed while a ribbon of navy velvet—a perfect match to the giant curtains in the back of the room—borders its edges.

  Never in my life would I be able to afford something so beautiful, but Master shows no hesitation in showering such luxuries upon me. My bed, my collar, even my accommodations are more than a girl like me should ever deserve. For God’s sake, I spent the first five years of my life growing up in a trailer, and now I’m reclining in a library-sized study with twenty-foot tall bookshelves lining the walls.

  Up above, plaster nymphs and cherubs cling to the ceiling while a frescoed Aphrodite prostrates her naked body before the god of war.

  I’m wet just staring up at her vacant, submissive face. Already I can imagine myself lying upon the same clouds that entrap her. The hands reaching towards her are my master’s hands reaching towards me, and my pussy throbs just thinking about how deeply his fingers now explore my inner folds.

  But I want more than just fingers. I want…I want…

  I jerk to my senses. God, I really am losing it.

  Weeks have passed since I first arrived here. So far I’ve been good, and Master has been more than good to me. He’s been patient, gentle. He’s pleasured me in more ways than I would have ever thought imaginable, and not once has he ever asked me to return the favor.

  I suppose I should be grateful that he’s let me keep my virginity for so long, but somehow I’m just…not.

  Now how fucked up is that?

  Warm air tickles my shoulder, and when I look up, Miss Priss leans over me with parted lips. Her breath comes hard and fast. She traces her tongue around my exposed nipple, and I know what she wants even before she thrusts her wet cunt just above my mouth.

  Oh, Lord, this is what she always wants.

  Ever since White Coat removed our gags, she hasn’t left me alone. She’s always pawing at me. Her teeth will nibble my earlobes, my neck, my breasts until I’m just as worked up as she is, and then she’ll present me with her ever-ready pussy, and I’ll feast on her moist flesh until White Coat or Master finally come forward to separate us.

  That’s how it usually goes, but not today.

  No, today I turn away from her cunt’s throbbing lips and stare at the space beneath Master’s desk. We’re alone now. I don’t need to perform for Master, so there’s no reason for me to pleasure her, none at all. Even if I am wet, even if I am needy, even if I do secretly like the taste of her sex, I don’t need to submit before this bitch. I’m a person for God’s sake, not an animal. I can show restraint. I can—

  A softly spoken “bitch” breaks the silence of the study, and my gaze jerks towards Miss Priss. Did she just speak? Did she really just speak?

  Her eyes are wide. I stare up at her, and I pray that she’ll do it again. Just speak. Talk to me like you would a human being, not an animal. Show me some sense of normalcy. Lord only knows how far gone I must be for a single curse word to fill me with so much hope, but it does, it really does.

  I’d thought Miss Priss was a complete victim of their world, but to hear her speak, even if it was just to insult me, well, that just proves that a woman still exists beneath that naked skin, and if she can still keep some semblance of herself after slipping so far into their clutches, then maybe…maybe so can I.

  I keep waiting for her to say more, but her eyes turn first to the door and then back to me. She’s scared. I know she’s scared. But doesn’t she know I won’t tell? Doesn’t she realize she can trust me?

  I part my lips, ready to tell her just that, but before I can say anything she thrusts her nose between my legs. She must be desperate to keep me quiet. Lord knows she only ever pleasures me when White Coat commands it. But I can’t let this slide so easily. I can’t just let her distract me now. I can’t. I…

  Her mouth finds my cunt, and I moan.

  Oh, God, I can’t give in to her. Not now. Not when I’m so—

  A current of electric pleasure rolls through my insides, and I thrust my pelvis into her lips. She nibbles. Her tongue swirls across the head of my clit, and all thoughts are gone.

  Dear, sweet Lord in heaven!

  I’m panting against the folds of my pillow when the study door creaks open. I look up, and Master is smiling down at me. White Coat stands just behind his left shoulder.

  I expect Miss Priss to stop at any second, but she doesn’t. She just pushes me harder, further down into that abyss of pleasure I’ve been struggling against ever since that old shopkeeper brought me here.

  Oh, God, that shopkeeper. Just thinking about my old life sends a wave of revulsion rolling through my gut. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t relish the feeling of that blonde bitch’s mouth on my flesh, but I do. Sweet Lord, I do.

  Master’s hands wrap around my shoulders. He lifts my upper body into his lap, and still Miss Priss doesn’t stop. Oh, God, she doesn’t stop!

  I’m panting hard, oh so hard. Master strokes my cheek, and when his hands move to my breasts, I gasp. It’s too much. It’s just too much!

  His fingers pinch the erect nubs of my nipples until bolts of dark pleasure course from both ends of my body. I can barely breathe. I’m shivering against the pleasure when Master lifts one of my breasts up to his mouth. His strong lips suckle my nipple while Miss Priss’s soft, warm tongue laps at my clit.

  Don’t stop. Whatever you do, please don’t stop!

  My back arches. A primal scream rips through my throat. Miss Priss finally backs away from my throbbing cunt, but I can’t stop my hips from thrusting weakly against the air.

  More. God help me, but I want more.

  Master chuckles. He pulls my trembling body up to his chest, and I nestle my head into the crook of his arm. His hand strokes my cheek. I should be ashamed. I should be mortified by the show I just put on, but for some reason I’m not. If anything, the pleasure in his gaze makes me feel almost proud.

  Sweet Lord, how sick is that?

  Still, it’s hard for humiliation to touch me when he looks down at me with such satisfaction, and even though I know he has to be sick and twisted and completely insane for doing all of this to me, I still can’t help but, well, like him.

  And dear Lord, that’s even more fucked up than all the collars and cages combined.

  Master speaks to White Coat, and even though I don’t understand what they’re saying, I get the feeling that they’re talking about me. White Coat points first to Miss Priss and then to me, and I recognize a note of hesitation in my master’s voice when he responds to the other man’s words.

  I should be scared by this, but I’m still too drunk from my latest passion to do anything but savor each gentle c
aress as my master runs his fingers along the back of my spine. He kisses my forehead. He waits until the strength has finally returned to my arms and legs before settling me back onto the floor.

  When he beckons me forward, I follow him without question to the red settee in the center of the room.

  I expect him to pull me onto the couch and toy with my breasts while he reads his latest novel. That’s how we spend most of our afternoons now, and the constancy of it has become almost a comfort.

  But he doesn’t lift me into his arms today. No, Master just holds up one hand before saying “Nita” and I sit down by the arm of the couch while White Coat instructs Miss Priss to take her position at my master’s feet.

  White Coat snaps a finger in front of my face before pointing to Miss Priss. “Voro.”

  My heart speeds up for some reason, but I watch obediently nonetheless.When I see Master pull his cock out of his pants, my breath hitches.

  Wait a minute.

  Just…wait.

  But of course, they don’t.

  Miss Priss’s lips are already parted. Master beckons her forward. He says a quick “pela” and her mouth wraps around his cock.

  And oh Lord, his cock…

  It’s enormous. All the dildos they’ve used on me are nothing compared to the sight of my master’s engorged member. I can’t imagine any way Miss Priss’s mouth can accommodate something so huge, but it does. Somehow it does.

  Master’s eyes are on me as he puts a hand on the back of Miss Priss’s head and slowly pulls her forward. I keep expecting her to choke, maybe even vomit, but instead she just moans as his massive shaft disappears down her throat.

  Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick.

  Her lips pass up and down his cock, and I’m shaking. Her muffled moans fill the study. Her tongue licks the tip of his head before her mouth consumes him once more.

  Sweet Jesus, how is she not choking?

  Both Master and White Coat are watching me. I try to focus. I try to be the obedient, willing slave I’ve attempted to pass myself off as so far, but God, I can’t stop the shivers racketing through my body.