Divine Cruelty (31 page)

'Your master gave me an early wedding present this evening,' Pearl said eventually. 'That's why you and I are alone in here now.'

Rachel swallowed twice before finding the courage to ask the question. 'What wedding present did he give you?' Deep in her heart she feared she already knew the answer but she needed to hear the words before she allowed herself to be sunk by despair.

Pearl continued to twist the tip of Rachel's nipple as she lowered her lips to her ear. Breathing her response softly, she said, 'He gave me you, Rachel. He said you were mine, and I could do whatever I wanted with you. I was so grateful that's why I had you brought straight in here. That's why I've made you especially divine.'

Pearl squeezed her fingers together and Rachel was stunned by another crippling orgasm. She briefly fretted that every waking moment would now be like this - and there would never be any respite from the constant rush of sexual satisfaction - and she knew the idea was simultaneously attractive and terrifying.

'Does that feel good?' Pearl asked quietly.

Rachel glared at her through bitter tears and shook her head. 'No,' she cried sadly. 'It feels divine.'

The slave trader laughed and snatched her hand away.

Before Rachel could sigh with relief Pearl had pushed her fingers against Rachel's pussy. The squelch of the wet flesh being plundered filled the room, and was then lost as Rachel began to sob with tortured joy. Her labia thrilled to the intimate contact and she thrashed in a futile attempt to escape her restraints.

'I'll bet it does feel divine,' Pearl hissed viciously. 'And I'll bet the sensation would have been a hundred times more intense if I hadn't removed your piercings.'

Rachel gasped, shocked by the concept of having to suffer both those indignities at the same time. She tried to reason with the woman - wanting to say something apologetic or at least argue in her own defence - but she was unable to do anything except groan in delight as the climax was squeezed from her sex.

Pearl snatched her fingers away, wiping the viscous smear of pussy juice against Rachel's mouth and chin. Her hand remained in front of Rachel's face and the slave trader didn't move it until her fingers had been licked clean. Once Rachel had been demeaned by the chore, Pearl finally unfastened the leather strap from around her breasts.

'You should be thanking me,' she said earnestly, 'and not just because I've made you so desirable.' She stepped away from the bed and went back to the desk where she had found the leather strap. After shuffling through a couple of sheets of paper she retrieved what she was looking for and returned to Rachel. 'You should also thank me for being good-natured about this,' she said flatly.

Rachel didn't need to look to know that Pearl was holding the incriminating photograph. Facts were falling into place and she understood that Pearl could only have known about her penchant for tit-binding if she had discovered the hidden cache of contraband in her room. It followed that if Pearl had found the leather straps, she had also found Osbourne's photograph.

'Did you intend showing this to your master?' Pearl asked. 'Did you plan to show it to my intended husband?'

'I thought it might have made a nice wedding present,' Rachel said defiantly. 'He would have had something to remember you by.'

Pearl didn't seem troubled by the insurrection in Rachel's voice. Smiling at the photograph she said, 'Osbourne gave this to you, didn't he? I recognise his handiwork.' Laughing indulgently she said, 'He always knew how to knock up a convincing forgery.'

Rachel glared at her. 'Are you saying it's a fake?' she asked.

Pearl walked over to the incinerator and pushed the photograph through the metal door. It disappeared in a flash of acrid smoke and Rachel blinked back a tear when she realised it was gone forever. 'How could it be genuine?' Pearl asked softly. She returned to the bed and started unfastening the straps at Rachel's wrists and ankles. 'The picture had to be a fake,' she said simply. 'It shows me having intercourse with two men and you know full well that I was a virgin until tonight.'

Rachel opened her mouth to say something then closed it abruptly. Thinking about Pearl and Master Vince, Rachel could no longer find the enthusiasm to try and sour the pair's relationship. If they wanted each other, than she figured they might as well have each other. She was no longer Master Vince's favourite and she was loath to spend the rest of her days as Pearl's personal maid.

She thought it was possible that the slave trader had been a virgin until this evening, and then realised it could have been another in the catalogue of lies that everyone seemed to be telling. She didn't know and couldn't be bothered trying to work out who, if anyone, was telling the truth. Looking forward to returning to the albergo, anxious to put all the charades and untruths behind her when she was permanently by Master Bernard's side, she decided the incinerator was probably the best place for the photograph because it was no longer a part of her plans. There was only one small matter to clear up and she felt sure that wouldn't cause any problems.

'Just so we understand each other,' she began quietly. She eased herself off the bed, standing awkwardly for fear of exciting another unwanted response from her newly modified pussy lips. 'Just so we understand each other: I realise I'm now your personal maid, but you're still a slave trader at heart, aren't you?'

Pearl shrugged with natural caution. She looked as though she was trying to guess where the conversation might be going but Rachel could see that she remained mystified. 'I guess so,' she agreed guardedly. 'You know what they say: you can take the girl out of the slave trade, but you can't take the slave trade out of the girl.'

Rachel shook her head, irritated by the interruption. 'Good,' she said stiffly. 'If you're still a slave trader, that means you won't have any qualms about selling me, even though Master Vince gave me to you as a wedding gift.'

Pearl thought about the question for a moment then shrugged again. 'I guess not,' she conceded. 'If the right offer comes along I'm always able to put profit before sentiment.'

'So,' Rachel continued. 'When Master Bernard puts in an offer to buy me, you're not going to raise any objections, are you? You'll just let the sale go through as normal. You won't try and increase the sale price just because I was given as a wedding gift, or because...'

'Bernie?' Pearl broke in, sounding puzzled. 'Master Vince's brother? He won't be putting in an offer for you.'

Rachel sneered at her. 'I think I might know differently.'

Pearl shook her head and her expression seemed infuriatingly certain. 'He won't be putting in an offer for you. I'm a hundred percent sure of that.' Speaking quickly, she said, 'He recently bought one of the estate's slaves and he was quite particular about the one he wanted. We gave him the choice of any of the household staff, you included, but he seemed adamant that he only wanted your servant Helena. None of the others would do for him.'

Rachel gasped in horror.

Pearl didn't seem to notice. 'Apparently he tried Helena's pussy on the night of the last tarocco reading and he fell in love with the sensation. He phoned Vince within the week to arrange the purchase and he bought her from his profits on the dragon portfolio.' She giggled thoughtfully to herself and said, 'It's kind of funny that. He was the only member of the cartel to see profits from the dragon portfolio. I wonder why that was? Your reading said there was a guaranteed return on that investment. Do you remember?'

Rachel didn't hear the question. Appalled by all that had happened - disgusted at Master Bernard, Pearl and herself - she fled from the studio in search of Master Vince. Worrying that it might already be too late, but knowing it had to be done, she rushed to tell him about all of her lies.

EPILOGUE

Rachel held the cumbersome tarocco deck in one hand and closed her eyes against a scream of anguish. The chapel was as icy as ever, the sounds of a frosty gale rattled the thin windows in their frames, but Rachel felt none of that chill. Her body boiled with the feverish heat of too much pleasure and constant pain.

From the pulpit Master Vince asked, 'Why did you lie to me, Rachel? Why did you lie?'

She shook her head before responding, struggling to find breath for the words. It was a difficult chore because Jason held the new chain that had been slipped through the rings of her freshly applied piercings. The torment was relentless and he kept her suspended from the floor, so that her weight was borne only by her nipples and her clitoris. The modifications were more sensitive than ever and it only took the slightest movement to have her sobbing. But Rachel struggled to think past the incessant agony, knowing she had to make some reply.

'I thought I was helping,' she gasped eventually. 'I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought...' Her voice trailed off in another scream of agonised delight.

Pearl stepped into her line of vision, resplendent in a basque, stockings and her strap-on dildo. She stroked the massive length between her legs as she glared down at Rachel. 'You thought you were helping,' she conceded. 'But you weren't, were you?'

Instead of answering, Rachel could only sob. She saw Pearl nod to someone behind her and knew it was a silent instruction for O'Mara to insert the butt-plug. A vibrator was already nestled between her overblown pussy lips, its throbbing presence sending shards of raw pleasure through her sex, and this addition didn't promise to make the situation any more bearable. Her anus was probed by a slippery dome, the muscle pulsed and contracted against the sudden pressure, and Rachel couldn't decide if her body was wanting the penetration or struggling against it. Eventually, she gave up trying to understand her responses and conceded that it was easier to accept that there was simply too much pleasure and too much pain.

'You weren't helping, were you?' Pearl repeated.

'No.'

'It's rewarding to hear her admit that much,' Master Vince murmured.

Pearl ignored him. Still glaring down at Rachel, she asked, 'What did you see in the cards? What made you think that I was the villain and you were the heroine?'

Rachel didn't have to think about her answer because the three images remained fixed in her mind as they had done since she first saw them. Despite the pain, regardless of the delicious pleasure that came from the butt-plug sliding slowly into her bowel, she could see them as clearly as if the cards had been laid out in front of her. Without any effort of recollection she knew she had decided to lie after seeing the devil, the lovers and the devastated tower. She told Pearl what she had seen and waited for another display of the slave trader's wrath.

It was a long wait, made uncomfortable by the muscle of her anus being stretched by the butt-plug. Her pussy was convulsing spasmodically and each shiver trembled through the sensitive walls of her rectum. Eddies of pleasure swept from her bowel in thick waves that had her delirious with anguished joy.

Rather than responding with fury, Pearl's laughter trailed merrily from the walls of the chapel. Master Vince glared at her for a moment then, uncertainly, he joined Pearl in her merriment.

'You arrogant little bitch,' Pearl scoffed. 'You really need to learn your place on this estate, don't you?'

Rachel struggled to glance up at the woman. The effort caused bright needles to sting through her breasts, and her clitoris felt as though it was being torn from her body. But she had to see the slave trader's face and, regardless of the personal price, she knew she had to make the effort. She started to apologise again but Pearl was speaking over her before she could manage the first word.

'How did you interpret those cards?' she asked. Her frown was etched with contempt. 'Did you see me as the devil? Were you and Bernie the lovers? Was I meant to bring the destruction that you saw in the devastated tower card? Is that how you interpreted them?'

The butt-plug struggled to go past its widest point and Rachel could feel that O'Mara was letting it squeeze back a little before she inched it forward. She suspected the slave was trying to prolong the torment, and she supposed she would have taken the same sadistic pleasure if she had been in the maid's position. Forcing her thoughts back to Pearl's question, realising the woman had more or less guessed her interpretation of the personal tarocco reading, she grunted, 'It was something like that.' Lowering her gaze, no longer wanting to look at Pearl's disapproving frown, she said, 'I can't remember exactly.'

Pearl snorted. 'You didn't think that Bernie might have been represented by the devil card?' Pearl asked. 'You didn't think that the lovers might represent Master Vince and I? You didn't think the tower card prophesied your destroying an established system of honesty and trust?'

Thinking about Pearl's explanation, Rachel conceded that her interpretation could also have been what the cards were trying to tell her. Considering the way events had worked out, she supposed it was a more likely explanation than the one she had made. She would have argued that the tarocco weren't an exact science, and that the chance of misinterpretation was one of the card's many flaws, but O'Mara chose that moment to push the butt-plug home.

Rachel's backside was stretched by the phallus, the muscles of her sex trembled with new waves of agony, and a further orgasm erupted deep in her bowel. The pleasure shivered through her body adding waves of new discomfort to her tormented piercings. The extreme was so severe that she couldn't bring herself to suffer the pain and pleasure and continue lying.