Divine Cruelty (30 page)

Rachel wished she could close her ears the way she could close her eyes. She supposed it wouldn't have helped to any great degree - she would still be able to feel the table vibrating beneath her haunches, and would still be able to smell the sickly scent of their cursed union - but it would have meant she didn't have to listen to Pearl's faux enthusiasm.

'If you need me to be gentle, I can be gentle,' he assured her.

Pearl grunted and shook her head. 'Take me faster,' she urged, bucking beneath his repeated thrusts. 'Take me faster! Faster!'

Master Vince obliged eagerly, working his length in and out at a furious speed. Rachel could see every sordid detail and watched his scrotum sway back and forth as he repeatedly pounded into her. Pearl's arousal was obvious and the silky sheen of her excitement quickly coated his shaft. Her labia melted for him as she happily accepted his penetration again and again and again.

Rachel repeatedly squeezed herself to orgasm, watching the master and the slave trader as they bucked and groaned toward their own climax. She wouldn't accept that the sight was exciting, and would have been happier to say the occasional glimpse of O'Mara's masturbation was all that was adding to her arousal, but she knew that wasn't entirely the truth. When the couple before her climaxed, Master Vince burying himself deep and Pearl screeching with excessive jubilation, Rachel screamed with her own unexpected release.

She didn't know if either of the couple had been disturbed by her, or if her cry had disturbed the pinnacle of their love-making. But, when she had blinked away the tears of bitter joy, she saw that Pearl was glancing in her direction. Master Vince was oblivious to everyone and everything except his bride-to-be. He remained between her legs, his spent length slowly seeping from her hole, while he pressed grateful kisses against her throat and bare breasts.

'Hold on a moment, darling,' Pearl said. 'It looks like we have a winner.'

Rachel followed the line of the woman's gaze and realised the slave trader was staring at her glass. She glanced between her legs and saw, just like O'Mara's, her own glass was so full the fluid spilled over the sides. She blinked in surprise, a bewildered smile crossing her lips.

'We have a winner,' Master Vince agreed. 'But I don't think it was Rachel.'

Rachel glanced at him curiously, wondering how he could say such a thing. She saw him retrieve the sherry glass from underneath O'Mara and realised the truth of the situation was glaringly obvious. Rachel had only managed to fill her own glass, with just enough excess to dribble down one side. O'Mara had continued spurting until the table beneath her looked like a small lake. The sides of her glass were dewy with viscous ejaculate and strings of the wetness trailed from its base as Master Vince passed it to Rachel.

Numbly, her fingers sopping with her own arousal, Rachel took the glass from him. Instinctively she raised it to her lips and inhaled the acrid scent of musk. Beyond the rim of the glass she could see O'Mara smirking at her. Shame, nausea and weariness all fought for control of her emotions but it was the sight of Master Vince's disappointment that left the strongest impression. He had been frowning when he handed over the glass and the knowledge that she hadn't succeeded for him made Rachel feel ill with self-loathing. It also made her come to a decision about what she would do with the photograph.

He turned to Pearl and said dourly, 'Well won, darling. It looks like we'll be having pony carts at our wedding reception.'

Pearl shook her head. 'No, my love. If you want limousines, then that's what we'll have.'

'Limousines?' He sounded pleased but confused. 'But the wager?' he began. 'You seemed so determined to win it. Why have you suddenly changed your mind?'

Her smile was indulgent and, unable to watch a sickening display of further affection, Rachel turned away when Pearl stroked a hand against his cheek. 'I'd still rather have pony carts,' she admitted. 'But, if it means so much to you, I'm happy to relent. The bet was entertaining but its result was meaningless. Don't you realise, darling? I love you and your heart is the only thing I've ever cared about winning.'

Rachel listened incredulously, unable to believe she had struggled so hard to win a victory that had been of no interest to anyone. The injustice made her furious and, when she caught another scent of O'Mara's glass the pungent fragrance was more than she could stomach. Lightheaded from the punishment of too many pleasures, and unable to demean herself by drinking O'Mara's come, she stumbled backward on the table and dropped the glass to the floor. She never heard it shatter against the stone because, by the time it struck, she had fallen into a dead faint.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

'Congratulations.'

Rachel came to in vaguely familiar surroundings not sure how long she had been unconscious and hardly remembering the challenge that had caused her to collapse into a faint. Her entire body was sticky with sweat but, because she was still shivering from pleasure, that didn't seem unnatural. A throbbing pulse ebbed through her pussy muscles, transporting her to new realms of bliss before sweeping her into a frenzy of orgasm. The same delicious joy was wrought through her nipples and it only took the slightest movement to have her dizzied by a furious, blistering climax. Each time she thought the joy was beginning to recede another rush of delight scorched through her hole and left her weary, drained and satisfied.

'I said congratulations. Did you hear me? Or are you still being an arrogant bitch who doesn't deign to grace me with her conversation?'

Rachel glanced dreamily toward the figure and recognised Pearl. The slave trader held a hypodermic needle in one hand and the sight looked so intimidating that she was startled from her dreamy reverie. Instinctively she tried to cringe away.

It was only when she attempted to move that Rachel realised exactly where she was and the enormity of her predicament: she had been brought back to Pearl's studio and, once again, she was strapped to the fourth bed. Her wrists and ankles were held secure in the straps, her legs were spread apart in the stirrups, and she knew her position was inescapable. Trying to hide her mounting panic she glared at her gaoler and said, 'What do you think you're doing to me?' She fixed her gaze on the hypodermic in Pearl's hand and asked, 'What the hell do you think you're going to do with that?'

Pearl's laughter echoed musically from the studio walls as she took the hypodermic to the incinerator in the corner. Opening the metal door she dropped the needle inside and Rachel caught a glimpse of glowing flames before the hypodermic was gone forever. 'I'm not going to do anything with the needle,' Pearl said sweetly. 'And I don't plan on doing anything else to you now. I've done everything I need to do. Your treatment is complete.'

Rachel glanced down at herself and gasped with horror.

Her nipples had been large before, she had thought they looked the ridiculous size of plum tomatoes, but now they were bigger than ever. The flesh was over-stretched and painfully taut and for an instant she thought the effort of actually looking at her breasts was causing discomfort. Grunting with fury, she snatched her gaze away and glanced at the slave trader.

Pearl grinned at her.

Despising the woman more than ever, Rachel turned her attention back to her body. Her nipples had been made fat from the use of the suction pump but now they were substantially different. She didn't know where the knowledge came from but she felt sure both buds were now permanently large. Shocked, she lifted her gaze to glare at Pearl. 'You haven't, have you?' she whispered. 'Please,' she begged, 'tell me you haven't.'

Pearl nodded triumphantly. 'You were unconscious,' she explained. 'And it seemed like too good an opportunity to overlook. You'd responded so well to the initial treatment that I saw no reason not to make it permanent. Congratulations.'

Bewildered by the news Rachel could only switch her gaze from her newly modified breasts to Pearl's smug grin.

'That's what I was doing with the hypodermic,' the slave trader explained. 'I've just completed the last of the collagen injections. That's why I was offering my congratulations: I've just made you divine.'

Rachel's gaze slipped toward a mirror between her legs and she realised it was set at an angle that perfectly reflected her pussy. The sight was mesmerising because she saw that her sex now looked like those she had envied on that night when Pearl first brought her stock the estate. There was too much pink flesh, her sex had been made ugly and swollen, but she didn't think it had ever looked so desirable. If the angle hadn't offered the perspective of her entire body, with her face reflected as she peered incredulously at the modifications, she might have thought she was looking at another woman's pussy.

'Don't you look fantastic?' Pearl asked.

Rachel was loath to agree but she had to concede that the changes looked tremendous. More than that, as well as the aesthetic improvements, she was aware of an increased sensitivity.

During the challenge she knew she had been inordinately responsive but she guessed that side effect was a pale shadow of the stimulation she could now receive. Any movement was an exercise in torment and, as she struggled against her restraints, she could feel heightened responses tickling against her cleft. Clenching the muscles of her inner thighs, urging her legs to move the little that the restraints allowed, she was struck by the rush of another orgasm. It seared through her pussy muscles and left her trembling within her shackles on the studio bed.

'Do you approve?' Pearl asked. She barked chilling laughter and shook her head. 'What a silly question,' she admonished. 'It doesn't matter whether you approve or not, and it's not as though we can do anything about it even if you don't like them.' She slapped a playful hand against Rachel's thigh and said, 'The modifications are permanent. Congratulations, Rachel: you're divine.'

Rachel glared at her but Pearl ignored the venomous expression. Her attention was caught by something on one of the studio's desk and, when Rachel followed the line of her gaze, she fretted that she was looking at something unnervingly familiar. In the pristine white of the clinical studio, the lengths of black leather looked sorely out of place. As Pearl selected one, and sauntered slowly back to the side of the bed, Rachel studied the strap for some proof that it was the one she thought it might be.

'There isn't a problem, is there?' Pearl asked sweetly.

She held the leather in both hands and for one moment Rachel feared the woman would slap her with the makeshift strap. It was an unsettling thought - her hypersensitive breasts and pussy were easy, accessible targets - and she tried not to show her mounting fear.

Rather than strike her with the leather, Pearl stepped closer and looped one end of the strap around Rachel's left breast. She worked with practised skill, wrapping the leather in a figure eight around both orbs before pulling tight.

'Please,' Rachel gasped.

Pearl's wicked smile concealed any sympathy she might have harboured. Pulling tighter, freeing enough of the leather so she could bind another loop around each breast, she grunted as she finally fastened the ends secure.

Rachel wailed.

She thought the torment was unbearable, more than she could possibly withstand, but that idea was pushed aside when Pearl stroked a finger against her stiff nipple. The fat bud of flesh bristled under the contact and, with the added punishment of the binding, it almost proved too much. A shattering screech of unbearable pleasure soared from the tip and didn't stop until Rachel was sobbing with bitter ecstasy. She glared at Pearl through a haze of hateful arousal and then shivered through another orgasm when the slave trader caressed her breast again.

'It's wonderful how this increases sensitivity,' Pearl reflected.

Rachel stared in amazement as the woman teased her nipple between a finger and thumb. The flesh had been engorged to a monstrous size and looked impossibly large in the slave trader's hand. Yet it also seemed able to detect every ridge of the woman's fingerprints and each subtle increase in pressure as Pearl gently squeezed with the tips of her nails.

'I had no idea you enjoyed tit-binding,' Pearl smiled, 'although I should have suspected as much.'

She buried her nails deep into the areola and Rachel squirmed against her restraints. Bright spasms of agony were flourishing in her breast and she knew another climax was about to shake its way through her frame. She gritted her teeth and prepared to tolerate the joy.

'It's amazing what we conceal from each other,' Pearl continued. 'And it's not always for the worse when our secrets do come out, is it?'

Rachel didn't understand what the woman was saying and knew she was in no position to concentrate. Her pussy muscles were repeatedly clenching in sympathy for her tormented nipples and every thought was overshadowed by the glorious swell of a rising orgasm. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she fixed Pearl with a silent plea that was neither a request for her to stop nor encouragement for her to continue.

'But we'll have plenty of time to learn all about each other now,' Pearl assured her. 'Vince was impressed with the effort you put into this evening and he kindly showed me his generous nature again. He presented me with a gift.'

There was an ominous undercurrent to Pearl's words that made Rachel force herself to listen. She regarded the woman warily and waited for her to continue. Even when Pearl squeezed hard on the aching nub of her breast, Rachel continued to fix her with a curious gaze, silently encouraging her to explain.