His Black Pearl (10 page)

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
caress 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.

I’m terrified, and for the life of me, I
don’t even know why.

I’ve already done worse, haven’t I? I’ve
licked and fed upon Miss Priss’s pussy more times than I can even
count. I’ve strutted nakedly before Master for weeks on end. I’ve
let these men train me, mold me, rebuild me into whatever they
wanted.

And I’ve done it all for the slim chance that
maybe, just maybe I can garner enough trust, or perhaps even
sympathy, so that somehow one of my jailers will slip up and let me
run away.

I hear Master’s breath quicken, and my eyes
meet his just as the climax overtakes him. His whole body shudders.
He pats Miss Priss’s head. The woman beneath him flicks her eyes in
my direction and slowly licks the leftover cum off her bottom
lip.

Bile pushes at the back of my throat.

“Alore,” Master says, and before I can think,
I’m crawling towards him.

“Nita.”

I sit at his feet. Oh, God, I’m sitting at
his feet.

His cock is in front of me, and my heart
hammers wildly as he says the final word I’ve been dreading so
much.

“Pela.”

Oh, please not pela!

I’m shaking as I lean forward. My mouth is
dry. My arms can barely hold me up. I hesitate. My gaze darts from
my master’s eyes to his cock and back again.

Please, I want to say. Please don’t make me
do this.

He cups a hand around the back of my head and
gently pulls me forward. I’m crying when his soiled head touches my
lips.

He strokes my hair.

Gentle sona’s leave his lips, and I try my
best to please him.

Just be a good girl, Adair. That’s all you
have to do. Just be a good girl.

His cock is twitching, hardening as I take
him inside me, and I start shaking harder. I remember Miss Priss. I
think of the gutful of semen now filling her belly, and the way she
licked every last bit off her lips.

I should do the same. I have to do the same.
I have to—

My master’s leftover seed burns hot against
my tongue, and I shudder as an errant drop rolls down the back of
my throat.

It burns all the way down.

I gag.

I rip my lips away and heave onto the carpet.
I can’t do this. Oh, God, I can’t do this! I thought I was strong
enough to endure whatever he had in store for me, but I can’t. I
just can’t. I’m too weak, too scared, too
whatever-in-the-hell-you-want-to-call-it to go on any further.

Miss Priss’s laugher rings through the room.
White Coat stomps forward and orders me back into position.

But I don’t move.

I’m lying beside a puddle of my own vomit,
and all I can do is shut my eyes against the sound of White Coat’s
crop hitting his boot. That’s my warning. It’s the only warning
I’ll ever get, and I know I should get up again. I should just be a
good girl and do as I’m told.

But I can’t.

Lord help me, I can’t.

His crop whistles through the air before
striking me hard on the back. I scream. I cry as he hits me again
and again, until eventually I feel something warm and wet trickling
down my spine.

I’m bleeding.

Oh, God, I’m bleeding.

I know I should get up. I have to get up.
This madman will kill me if I don’t. But every strike just makes me
huddle farther into myself, and my sobs are so deep that I can
barely even breathe let alone stand.

Dear Lord, please help me.

Please, somebody help me!

A sharp “Ki!” overpowers White Coat’s muffled
rant, and I hear a scuffle behind me. Seconds later, strong arms
wrap around my body.

Oh, Master, I should have known you wouldn’t
let me down.

I bury my face into his chest, and he gently
lifts me into his lap. I’m sobbing hard. I know I have to be
ruining that beautiful silk shirt of his, but he doesn’t chasten
me. No, Master just strokes my hair. He whispers a stream of soft,
steady words into my ear, and slowly I calm down.

My breath still hitches against my throat,
but the sobs no longer threaten to suffocate me. Master lays me on
my belly, and I don’t pull away when he examines my wounds.

He snaps out an order, and then footsteps
leave the room before quickly returning again. Master’s hand leaves
my back for only a moment before I feel something cool and wet
touch my skin.

I look over my shoulder.

Bands of red welts crisscross my spine, and I
can just see the thin line of blood marring the flesh above my hip.
Master presses the cool rag back upon my wounded back before slowly
reaching up to wipe the tears from my cheeks.

“Sona, Isa. Sona.”

His soothing words lull me to sleep.

I wake every now and then. White Coat’s
fingers rub ointment over my cut, and I jerk away, but Master’s
gentle voice soon calms me down. His eyes are worried, even a touch
regretful when they look at me, but every time White Coat speaks, I
see them narrow as his gaze falls upon the other man.

Good. Maybe if I play this up enough, Master
won’t ever again place me back in that monster’s clutches. Maybe
he’ll just keep me with him. Or maybe, maybe he’ll even let me
go.

I highly doubt my last wish will ever come
true, but I’d be more than content to settle for the other two.

When I awake again, White Coat is laying a
platter of fruit on the table beside the couch. Master picks up a
dark, plump grape, and I part my lips as he presses it against my
mouth.

The taste of it is wonderful.

“Pela, Isa.” His fingers graze the hood of my
clit. “Pela.”

I part my lips, and he feeds me one tender,
juicy bite after another. Sweetness fills my mouth. Wet lust burns
between my legs. I thrust my pussy harder into his hands. By the
time the tray is empty, his fingers are knuckle deep in my pulsing
cunt, and I’m moaning for more.

He smiles down at me. “Sona, Isa.”

I look up at him and smile right back.

Vaguely, I’m aware of someone shuffling
across the carpet behind me, and when I look over my shoulder,
White Coat is setting something on the floor by Master’s feet. I
look for Miss Priss, half-expecting to see the bitch’s familiar,
taunting gaze directed straight at me, but she’s nowhere to be
seen.

Something hard thunks against the floor.

What is White Coat doing?

I look up to Master, hoping beyond all hope
that he’ll offer me the reassurance I need, but he just strokes my
hair before turning to address White Coat. Neither one of them
seems upset with the other now, and I’m beginning to doubt Master
will grant me any form of reprieve from my trainer’s lessons.

Finally, White Coat gives us both a nod. He
backs away from whatever he’s been working on, and Master slowly
sits me up.

What’s going on?

Oh, God, what’s going on?

My bound fists paw at Master’s chest. He
strokes my cheek gently and whispers soft, soothing words into my
ear, but my heart is pounding so hard, I can barely hear him. Only
his eyes can calm me down. Those penetrating blue eyes have all the
peace and reassurance of a cloudless summer sky.

Master wouldn’t hurt me.

He’s never hurt me.

I nearly laugh at my own stupidity, but then
my gaze drops to the device positioned between Master’s feet, and I
freeze.

It’s a cock.

A giant black cock.

It’s not as big as Master’s—not quite—but
it’s still larger than anything I’ve ever taken before. Its head
looms up at me while its shaft stretches down to a rectangular
padded base that might have been mistaken for a tiny ottoman if not
for the enormous dildo rising up from its center.

White Coat’s fingers beckon me to sit down,
but I can’t move. I can’t do anything but shiver as I stare down at
that massive silicone dick.

Lord, I thought I was done for the day. I
really thought I was done. But now…now…

Master wraps his fingers around my chin and
forces me to look at him. I’m afraid I’ll see anger, maybe even
disappointment in those bright blue eyes, but no, my master isn’t
upset with me. I think he understands my hesitation. He knows I’m
afraid. He knows I’m not ready. But still…

Still that doesn’t change anything.

He kisses my forehead.

He says more of those soft foreign words
before lowering me to the ground. White Coat’s hands guide my knees
into place. My shins rest flat against the floor. I sink down
further and further until I can finally feel the dildo’s head
pressing against my pussy’s lips.

I whimper, and Master’s hands cup my
face.

“Shh,” he whispers. “Shh, Isa.”

His nose nearly touches mine. All I can see
are his eyes. Thank God for those eyes. They’re my lifeline.

My master is my lifeline.

White Coat guides my hips lower, farther down
upon that giant phallus, and I suck in a quick breath as it fills
me. I’m stretching. Dear God, I can feel myself stretching. But the
pain is only a soft prick compared to the beating I received
earlier.