His Black Pearl (9 page)

My breaths come out hot and angry, and Master
pulls me closer. He rests his cheek on the crown of my head. He
speaks more of his incomprehensible foreign words, and his voice
sound almost…regretful.

I can’t understand it.

One minute I expect this man to fuck me, the
next torture me, and now comfort me? None of this makes any sense.
Is he deliberately trying to keep me off balance? If so, I guess
it’s working. I can’t decipher anything that’s going on, least of
all my master’s true nature.

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…