Divine Cruelty (20 page)

Not deigning to look at any of the guests, Rachel knew she was expected to make directly for the altar and, now she was in Master Vince's presence, she was determined not to defy his instructions. Sconces on the wall burnt brightly, flooding the chapel with wavering orange light and stark shadows. Rachel's flesh prickled with goosebumps from the mild chill as she walked boldly down the aisle. The conversation that had been murmuring through the unholy congregation stopped as soon as she appeared.

'Thank you for finding her, darling,' Master Vince called. His voice echoed melodically from the chapel's acoustics. He stood in the pulpit smiling fondly at Pearl as she followed Rachel. 'Do you want to carry on assisting her or, should I get one of the staff to perform that chore?'

O'Mara was nowhere to be seen this evening and Rachel could see the master's gaze flitting in Carrie's direction. She was drawn to the idea of suffering under the hand of Jason's maid because she suspected the waif-like creature wouldn't be cruel or vindictive.

Her hopes of enjoying that reprieve were dashed when Pearl spoke from behind her. 'I'd like to get personally involved this evening,' she said confidently. 'I'm looking forward to the hands-on experience of learning about this ritual.'

Her eagerness sent a tremor shivering down Rachel's spine. It was more unsettling than the attentive glances of the vast congregation but, not allowing herself to be unnerved, Rachel stepped past her master, walked behind the altar, and knelt down. Her heart was pounding hard and she felt sure her cheeks were blushing like a beacon to illuminate her guilt. She had lied to Master Vince before - and she and the rest of his staff were still suffering because of that untruth - and she fretted that her intention to do the same this evening might be a mistake. Consoling herself with the assurance that it could only make things better, believing that the slave trader's despicable influence had to be the worst misfortune the estate would suffer, Rachel took a deep breath and nodded in Pearl's direction.

The slave trader stepped to her side and pulled the ermine robe from Rachel's shoulders.

Someone from the chapel gasped and another applauded softly. As soon as he realised his approval was unrequired he fell silent along with the rest of the congregation.

After spreading the cloak on the altar Pearl stepped back as though she was nothing more than another subordinate patiently awaiting instructions. It was an act that she might have carried off if her fingers hadn't constantly flexed and contracted. The impatient habit gave away her anxious need to start inflicting the torment that was necessary for the tarocco reading and Rachel cringed from the idea of being the victim of someone so eager.

Frowning with the solemnity he reserved for the reading, Master Vince produced his filofax and flicked through the pages. He found the page he was looking for, glanced towards the front row of pews and nodded at his aide. Jason stepped from Carrie's side and lumbered slowly to take his position behind Rachel.

'Do you like the modifications I made to your maid?' Pearl asked him softly.

Jason grinned and, from the corner of her eye, Rachel saw he flashed his smile at his doll-faced companion in the congregation. Obvious adoration shone in both their expressions and there was genuine approval in Jason's voice when he murmured, 'They're sweet, Mistress Pearl. Real sweet.'

Inwardly, Rachel groaned. Jason was one of the few staff on the estate who she had thought would remain oblivious to Pearl's charms but now it seemed even he had succumbed to addressing her with reverence. She blinked away the threat of tears and tried not to let her upset show.

'I can make the changes permanent,' Pearl confided. 'Would you want that?'

Rachel listened intently, able to hear more than the words of their conversation. Pearl had initially treated Jason as though he was nothing more than another of the estate's lower orders. Previously she had only spoken to him with tones of undisguised contempt. But now she was conversing as though Jason was her equal and Rachel suspected the slave trader was trying to win his favour. She wondered if, over the past week, Pearl had noticed that the master treated Jason less like another of the household's staff and more like a confidant and friend. It was the only thing she could think of to explain why the woman sounded like she was trying to bribe him.

'Of course I'd want that,' Jason said eagerly. He kept his voice low, careful not to alert Master Vince to their surreptitious conversation, but there was no chance of mistaking his enthusiasm. 'Will you do it? Will you make her permanently divine?'

'I'll do that for Carrie if you'll do a small favour for me,' Pearl promised.

Rachel strained to hear every detail of their exchange.

'What do you want?' His tone said that no price would be too high. 'Name it, and you've got it, Mistress Pearl. I'd do anything to have her made permanently divine.'

Pearl didn't hesitate. 'I watched you torment this card reader last week,' she whispered. 'I thought you did it well but you weren't as forceful as you could have been. Go harder on her tonight, take her to the limits of pain and, to show my gratitude, I'll make Carrie's labia permanently swollen.'

Rachel closed her eyes and tried not to listen to the wicked chuckle that preceded Jason's reply. 'I can do that.' He sounded to be grinning. 'I can do that and the pleasure will be all mine.'

'If it doesn't interrupt your conversation,' Master Vince said sarcastically, 'I'd like you to begin, Jason. Prepare her to read the cards.'

Rachel flinched from the command knowing that her blackest suffering was about to start once again. She had only just drawn breath, in a futile bid to prepare herself, when Jason grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged back, almost ripping the hair from her scalp.

True to his promise he seemed determined to make this harder than was usual and when he wrapped one meaty fist around her chains, Rachel knew he would have her crying before the night was over. She stared up at the chapel's vaulted ceiling and, not for the first time, she mumbled a silent prayer. Even as the words tumbled through her mind, Rachel had strong suspicion that her plea to God would go unheeded.

Jason lifted his arm upward, dragging Rachel to her knees. Sour pain was ripped from her nipples and her clitoris as she struggled not to cry out and she squeezed her one free hand into a fist as the discomfort threatened to be more than she could bear. Behind her, coming from where Pearl was standing, Rachel heard the soft murmur of the slave trader's laughter.

Sweat soaked her body and chilled her so severely she began to shiver. The tremors grew worse when Jason pulled her onto her tiptoes and kept her there, not easing the pressure on her chains or his grip of her hair one iota.. Eddies of arousal washed through her but their cruel pleasure was easily overwhelmed by the flood of pain. But, aware of what was expected of her, Rachel began to shuffle the tarocco.

'Which do you think I should use, Jason?' Pearl's voice was rich with malevolent glee and Rachel only heard her because she was speaking loudly to make herself heard over the electric whine of two vibrators. 'Should I use the extra large one, or this knobbly one with all the bumps and spikes?'

Without looking Rachel could picture the vibrators the slave trader was holding and she wasn't surprised that the woman was vacillating over the two most tortuous weapons in the chapel's arsenal. She supposed it didn't matter which tool Pearl finally decided to use because she didn't doubt the slave trader would make it hurt worse than any suffering she had ever experienced before.

Jason's grip shifted slightly as he turned to consider his response.

Rachel's nipples and clitoris were bombarded by fresh torment and this time she lost her tenuous grip on the deck. One of the cards fell from her hand and, although she snatched it up quickly, before Master Vince could notice, she saw it was the hanged man. As always seemed to be the way with the tarocco, Rachel thought the card was surprisingly appropriate.

'Which do you think?' Pearl insisted. 'You've been doing this long enough to know which will prompt her to give the best reading ever. Which vibrator should I use?'

'Use both of them,' Jason decided.

Rachel closed her eyes and sobbed. She opened them quickly, not wanting to earn Master Vince's wrath, and readied herself for the shame to begin in full. A hundred or more strangers were anxiously awaiting her suffering, her body was already shamelessly displayed for their entertainment, but she knew that the proper torment had yet to begin.

Her piercings were twisted again as Jason turned his attention back to her. The weight of his palm slapped soundly against her bare backside as he encouraged her to bend forward.

Shamed by the indignity, Rachel parted her legs and tried to prepare her body for the penetration. The electric whine grew louder and the rounded dome of a vibrator pressed against her cleft. Its tingling tip sent shivers bristling along her sex and the familiar thrill of excitement trembled through her body with mortifying ease. Miserably, Rachel realised that Pearl was using the thicker of the two vibrators.

Jason's free hand fell between her shoulder blades while Pearl pressed the vibrator hard against her sex. For an instant Rachel feared the slave trader would try and push the huge phallus into her anus. It was one of Jason's favourite tricks, Rachel knew the woman was holding two of the chapel's most formidable dildos, and she expected the slave trader to make this torment as unbearable as possible. But Pearl surprised her by thrusting the thick length into her pussy.

It rushed inside with obscene ease, spreading her muscles and filling her with its pulsing drone. Rachel supposed, considering the strain that was being put on her sex by the chains, her over-stretched labia must have looked the most vulnerable target. The realisation was only a distant thought, brushed aside by the flurry of delight that the vibrator etched through her sex. Its thickness was infuriating and, as it slowly ploughed toward the neck of her womb, Rachel was pushed to the dizzying extremes of pleasure.

Trying to distance herself from the torment, not wanting to give in to the sickening need for orgasm that the cruelty always inspired, Rachel tried to concentrate on shuffling the tarot cards. She had almost acclimatised her body to the perverse thrill when she felt the second vibrator being pressed against her backside.

'Hold her steady,' Pearl complained. 'I can't do this if you're wobbling her from side to side.'

'I'm trying to hold her steady,' Jason returned. Exertion was beginning to tell in both the stiffness of his voice and his obvious impatience. 'You can't blame me if she's writhing around like an armless whore with an itchy cunt.'

A hand slapped her rear but Rachel couldn't decide which of them had struck her. A sting of pain erupted through one cheek of her backside and she forced herself to remain immobile. Wanting to make the episode as painless as possible she tried to relax the muscles of her anus so the vibrator could push its way inside.

'Almost there,' Pearl grunted.

Rachel hadn't needed to hear the words to know that the slave trader had nearly accomplished her task. The tip of the phallus nuzzled her sphincter and its constant buzz tickled deliciously. She knew the penetration would be soon and swift, and she didn't doubt the gnarled surface of the phallus would be unbearable inside her rectum. But none of those thoughts stopped her from squirming eagerly onto the phallus.

Pearl made a small gasp of surprise. 'The little bitch is greedy for this, isn't she?'

Lost in throes of ecstasy, Rachel didn't hear Jason's reply. Both her holes were full, the anguish from her nipples and clitoris had travelled beyond being unbearable, and she knew her mind was in the perfect state to read the tarocco. Each time Pearl pushed the second vibrator deeper, every extra inch she inserted, confirmed that thought. Sighing happily, not thinking about anything beyond the actions necessary to shuffle the cards, Rachel remained in an agonised state of bliss.

'When you're ready, Jason,' Master Vince prompted.

Jason grabbed Rachel's hair and pulled her head back. Refreshing his grip on her chains he effortlessly lifted upwards and suspended her above the floor. The familiar searing torment screamed from her scalp and genitals. Aching from pleasure and writhing with agony, Rachel allowed an orgasm to shake through her as she prepared to read the first card. The climactic pleasure almost went unnoticed in the thrill of every other sensation.

'May the tarocco show my master's destiny,' she mumbled. 'Let the tarocco be his guide.'

'We'll begin with the accounts,' Master Vince declared importantly. He had his filofax open and held a finger under each word he read. 'We've re-evaluated the sheep portfolio,' he declared. 'And I have three options. The first option is to trust my broker's advice.'

Rachel turned over one of the sword cards. 'No, master,' she grunted, sliding the card back into the deck. Even the simple act of speaking was a form of punishment. Every word was a trial and added to her suffering in some way or another.

Master Vince scored a mark against the page. 'The second option is to let the sheep portfolio continue as it has been doing.'

She turned over a pentacle card, a high number that depicted eight or nine shiny gold coins. 'Yes, master,' she spat. 'That's the option you should go with.'

He nodded his satisfaction and went onto the next question.