His Black Pearl

by Jena Cryer

  White Coat reaches a hand inside her cage, and she rolls onto her back. Her legs part. He buries his hand in her cunt, and she moans.

  It’s a terribly beautiful sound.

  I want to tear my eyes away from the sight of her arching back and soft, ivory skin, but I can’t. Her breath quickens, and so does mine. Her eyes are on me when White Coat finally coaxes her into an orgasm, and my pussy throbs to the same beat of my racing heart.

  What in the fuck is wrong with me?

  She laughs again.

  White Coat pats her ass once. He makes her lick the juices off his hand, and then he turns to leave. The lights go out. The door closes behind him.

  It’s just me and this prissy little bitch now, and for once I’m grateful for the cages.

  I press my back against the wall behind me and curl into a tight ball.

  Was that other woman once like me? Did these bastards somehow break her down and rebuild her into the sex-crazed animal I see now?

  Is that what they plan to do to me?

  I shiver.

  Oh, God, I need hope. I need to know there’s at least a chance I won’t turn into a brown-haired version of the whore across from me. I’m a person for God’s sake. I need to act human, but I can’t. If I speak, they’ll hit me, and if I try to stand…

  Well, that didn’t work then, and it sure as hell won’t work now, not when my cage—or kennel, I suppose—is so short my back brushes the top bars even when I’m only on and knees.

  I cry into my paw-like hands.

  This is all too much. It’s just too damn much.

  Across from me, Miss Priss roots around the corner of her kennel. I know I shouldn’t look, but I can’t help it. I’m curious.

  She picks up something long and pink in her mouth, and when she dangles it through the bars of her cage, my stomach heaves.

  It’s a dildo. A massive, flesh-colored dildo.

  Her tongue dances circles around its tip, and only sheer willpower keeps me from throwing up.

  Why is she doing this to me?

  Amusement colors her eyes, and the sicker I feel, the harder she goes at the giant phallus.

  I’d hoped for an ally, possibly even a friend, but this woman, this…animal, isn’t any creature I’d ever trust. Her lips curl into a Sphinx-like smirk. She wraps her mouth around the silicone cock. When she tilts back her head, the whole length of it disappears down her throat.

  This time I can’t hold back the bile.

  My stomach empties itself in the back of my kennel, and Miss Priss’s deep-throated chuckles echo through the room.

  She doesn’t stop laughing for a very long time.

  Chapter Seven

  It’s morning.

  White Coat enters our kennel shortly after sunrise, and Miss Priss is already moaning for him through her cage.

  God, I hate that woman.

  All night I could hear her sucking and gurgling and thrusting herself upon the sex toy in her cage, and I know it wasn’t just for her pleasure. She was torturing me. She was trying to make my night the worst possible hell it could ever be, and she just about succeeded.

  My eyes burn.

  I wish I could have slept at least a little last night, but I was too sick with fear to do anything other than just curl up into a ball and shiver. Now my muscles ache, and my stomach still churns. I’m nowhere near strong enough to face the nightmare to come, and from the look on White Coat’s face, he knows it, too.

  But of course, that doesn’t change anything.

  He takes Miss Priss from her cage first. I watch him groom, bathe, and primp her for nearly half an hour before he does the same to me. Not once does he force himself on either of us. I guess that’s not his place. We belong to Master, after all, and from what I can tell this man is just our groom. Heaven forbid he should ever play with the animals he’s paid to look after.

  He pulls out a couple of dishes and feeds us. I’m too hungry to even question the mound of boiled chicken and chopped vegetables placed before me, and I eat it all without ever lifting my face from the bowl.

  He strokes my cunt. “Sona.”

  I’m already so used to this I don’t even look up, and I’m just swallowing the last bite of my food when something sharp bites me in the rear.

  I jump.

  What in God’s name…

  He rubs my back and says a whole string of words I don’t understand, but I can’t focus on anything except the syringe in his hand. What did he just give me?

  Miss Priss’s ass is already in the air when he leans forward to administer her shot, and she coos when he’s done. Dear God, is this what made her into the animal she is now? I’m shaking hard. A whole list of chemical compounds roll through my mind, and I’m busy trying to figure out what the most likely intoxicant would be when the vial slips out of White Coat’s hand and falls to the floor beside me.

  I steal a quick peak at the label. Medroxyprogesterone. The name sounds so familiar, but I can’t place it. The drug’s not a hallucinogen or a barbiturate. It sounds almost hormonal, almost like…

  Birth control.

  I let out a shaky breath. Of course they’d have to give us birth control. No self-respecting master would ever wear a condom, and what good would a sex slave be if she was always getting pregnant?

  I’m trembling hard when White Coat slips the gag into my mouth. The leash comes next.

  I keep expecting for a bathroom break at some point, but when White Coat opens the front door I curse myself for ever hoping for something as mundane as a toilet. These men are monsters, horribly perverted beasts. In their eyes, women are just animals, and I shouldn’t be shocked to see Miss Priss squat in the grass as soon as she steps outside.

  But I am.

  Lord help me, I am.

  I try to turn away when she starts to relieve herself, but White Coat jerks my head back in her direction.

  “Voro.” He forces open my eyes and points at the now-straining blonde. “Voro.”

  I have no choice but to watch.

  When she’s done, he pats her head and cleans her bottom with a damp cloth. Miss Priss wiggles her behind, and he gives her clit a quick stroke before slapping her rump.

  Then he turns to me.

  “Isa, alore.”

  He steps out into the tall grass and tugs at my leash, but I hold my ground. No. I might be naked and collared, but I’m still a lady, damnit, and ladies don’t shit in the yard.

  “Isa…”

  I still don’t move. Let the bastard get mad, I don’t care. He’s not the one I need to please anyway. Only Master matters, and once I win Master’s trust I’ll never—

  White Coat pulls the crop off his belt. “Alore, Isa.”

  I shoot forward before I can even think.

  White Coat forces my body into a quick squat, and the sight of the crop is all I need to get going. Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Fear and disgust ripple through me. I’ve never been more ashamed in all my life, and my eyes turn to the ground as tears leak down my cheeks.

  I’m crying hard by the time White Coat lifts up my chin.

  “Sona, Isa.” He strokes my cheek. “Sona.”

  He pets me over and over again. He looks down at me with accepting, even approving eyes, and for an instant—just a second, really—everything feels so…natural.

  My tears fade.

  When I stop thinking, life can be so easy. I force myself to forget who I am, what I am, and instead, I take the moment for what it is: just a simple act of life. Sure I could fight it. I could face pain, degradation, and an unending amount of agony. But if I embrace it…

  White Coat cleans me up when I’m done, and his fingers stroke my cunt.

  “Sona.” His touch sends agonizingly sweet waves of ecstasy up my loins. “Sona.”

  I’m breathing hard when he pulls away from me.

  I don’t fight him anymore after that. This man might be a lunatic, but at least he’s a fair one. As long as I’m good, as lon
g as I obey without question, I’m rewarded. If I don’t…

  I try not to think about what will happen if I don’t. In fact, I try not to think about anything at all. It’s so much simpler to follow orders, and obedience always did come easily to me. I want to be good. I need to be good. And I’d be lying if I said all the sona’s don’t motivate me at least a little.

  God, how sick is that?

  A little voice keeps telling me I’m being stupid. This is exactly what these men want. They’re trying to break me down, and the best way to do that is to make me forget who I am. All I have to do is follow, and they’ll lead me into a life of servitude I’ll never escape from.

  But what if I don’t want to escape?

  The thought catches me so off guard I trip over my own two hands.

  Oh, Lord, this is exactly why I can’t afford to think. White Coat’s hands are rough when he lifts me back into place. He jerks my chin up, pushes my chest forward, and makes me crawl along in the same seductive half-trot that Miss Priss has long-since mastered.

  Any doubts—no matter how valid—are pushed aside. I can be myself later. Once night comes, I can think about my mom and my dad and the whole life I left behind, but right now I just have to survive.

  And my survival depends on mindless obedience.

  I let my thoughts drift away once more. I fall into the same rhythm as Miss Priss, and as the hours pass by, nothing feels more natural.

  I was born to crawl.

  My lungs burn and my arms feel like Jell-O, but still I keep going. I don’t stop until White Coat gives my leash a quick tug and leads me to an apple tree in the center of the yard.

  Oh, God, the shade feels so good.

  My sun-warmed skin is covered in sweat, and I collapse as soon as White Coat stops walking. He gives my ass a quick pat. My chain jingles once more, and I’m almost scared I’ll have to go back to trotting circles again, but no, White Coat is just fastening my leash to a hook embedded high up in the trunk above me.

  He leaves me for a few minutes before returning with a bowl of water. As soon as he removes my gag, I lap it all down.

  So much for my dignity.

  I expect another order any second now, but White Coat just pets my head before leaving again. Is this it? Am I really done for the day? I know I shouldn’t hope for much, but the relief of being left alone, truly alone, nearly overwhelms me.

  No White Coat and no Miss Priss. Dear God, what a blessing.

  I know I should probably use the opportunity to at least try to escape, but I’m so tired and that hook is so far up. There’s no way I could ever get this leash and collar off me—not with my hands bound up like they are—and it’s a sure bet White Coat is out there somewhere watching me.

  And then there’s Master…

  My heart speeds up just thinking about that handsome beast, but I don’t know if it’s out of fear or lust or maybe even both. He’s easily the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, but he’s a monster, too. As far as he’s concerned I’m nothing more than an animal to him, a pet, and if he gets his way, I’ll—

  A branch snaps to my left, and I jump.

  I expect to see White Coat coming back for me, but instead I find the very man I was just pondering. Master. He’s dressed in loose gray slacks and a thin silk shirt that does nothing to hide the hardened body beneath it. A soft breeze ruffles his hair, and when I meet those blue eyes of his, I can’t look away. He’s just too beautiful, too strong, too…too…

  Hungry.

  Oh, God.

  My breath catches, and I know there’s no better way to describe it. This man is a predator. He’s a hunter, and I’m his prey, his helpless, helpless prey, and there’s nothing to stop him from taking me right here and now.

  My pulse quickens.

  He takes a step forward. He plucks an apple off the branch above him and sits down at the base of the tree. His fingers beckon me forward.

  “Alore, Isa.”

  I’m crying, but I don’t dare disobey.

  I expect him to bend me over and take me like an animal. I expect him to shove his cock in my mouth and make me eat up every last bit of his burning seed. I expect him to violate me and degrade me and use me just like the slave he thinks I am.

  But he doesn’t.

  He just whispers a single word.

  “Isa”

  His voice sends a stirring of something hot and needy through my insides, but I push back my lust almost instantly. This man isn’t a lover. He’s a taker. He’s more of an animal than I’ll ever be, and if ever want to see Texas again, I can’t forget that.

  He bites into his apple, but instead of swallowing, he takes the piece from his lips and holds it out before me.

  “Pela?”

  I freeze.

  What should I do? It’s such a small token, but the exchange feels so weighty. A bite of food for a pinch of freedom. Is that what I’m giving up every time I submit? Am I just losing another piece of myself every time I obey?

  A breeze ripples across my skin, and my nipples harden. Even though I know I should cover myself, I don’t. This man doesn’t want me covered. He wants me exposed. He wants me broken. He wants me built up again in whatever image he decides.

  And he wants me to want it, too.

  I tremble.

  I can’t be the creature he wants, but I can’t disobey, either. His eyes are on me. He’s assessing my every move, and a tiny part of me doesn’t want to let him down. I’m not an animal, and I’m not a slave, but I am a good girl, and thought of disappointing anyone sends a shiver through my soul.

  He beckons me forward, and I come.

  The bite of apple still hangs between his fingers, and I take it gently with my teeth. It’s moist and so, so sweet. Heavenly nectar rolls down my still-parched throat, and my stomach rumbles, desperate for more.

  Master’s knuckles caress my cheek. “Sona, Isa.”

  He bites off another piece before removing the wedge from his lips. I let him feed it to me. Every bite I take is a bite already touched by his lips, his tongue, but not once does he plant his own mouth on mine. He just watches and praises.

  When I’m done, he lets me lap the juice off his fingers. His other hand rubs my shoulder.

  “Alore, Isa.”

  I come closer, and he lifts me into his lap.

  My heart races.

  I try to tell myself it’s all a game. I just have to pretend I’m his slutty little concubine, and everything will be fine. He’ll like me. He’ll trust me. Hell, maybe he’ll even love me, and then…

  His breath rolls down my neck, and all thoughts of make believe disappear. This is real. Too real.

  His knuckles trace the line of my jaw. He drags those wonderfully strong fingers down every inch of my skin. My nipples tingle. My breaths come out in heavy pants. His fingers dance circles around the lips of my pussy, and just when I can’t take the tease any longer, he reaches inside.

  My back arches, and I moan with all my soul.

  “Sona.” His teeth nibble my ear. “Sona, Isa.”

  I’m starting to love those two words.

  My hips thrust against his lap, and his cock is hard as stone beneath his pants. Dear God, he has to be huge. A part of me trembles just thinking about taking his manhood inside me, but another part…

  He spreads a trail of kisses down my collarbone, and my pussy’s so hot I can barely stand it.

  Sweet Lord in heaven, what is wrong with me?

  I shouldn’t be acting this way. I should be repulsed, terrified even. This man might look like a god, but he’s a monster. He’s sick and perverted. He’s manipulating me, training me, and here I am gasping and grunting to his every command.

  I should hate him more than anyone else in the world, but I don’t.

  God help me, I don’t.

  He tips my chin back, and when I look up at his eyes they’re almost…loving. I’d expected to see arrogance, maybe even condescension. He is sort of having his way with me, after al
l. But no, his gaze is filled with the same look of pride my parents’ held every time I brought home a good report card.

  I don’t know why, but just seeing his satisfaction sparks a bolt of passion inside me that sends me completely over the edge. I moan louder, longer. I arch my back even harder against his arm, and when his mouth is only an inch away from mine, I lean forward and kiss him.

  He jerks away from me before our lips have hardly brushed.

  “Ki, Isa.” His breaths are coming in heavy pants. “Ki.”

  What did I do?

  He keeps his fingers inside my cunt, but his hand is still now. His eyes are wild, maybe even a little sad, and his lips tremble with barely suppressed emotion.

  He grabs my chin in his hand. “Ki.”

  I nod quickly, and he presses my head to his chest. His chin rests against my hair. His heart pounds loudly against my ear.

  What in the hell is going on?

  I thought he wanted a willing slave, but I guess kissing isn’t in my job description. I’m not supposed to act human, after all. He just wants me to be his animal, his pet, and if I get out of character, all the fun is gone.

  But if that’s the case, why is his erection digging into my side even harder than before?

  I suck in a huge gulp of air. We’re both trembling now, and I don’t know why. I should be happy, thrilled that for at least another minute I get to keep my virginity intact, but instead I’m just…

  Oh, God, I don’t know what I am.

  Master pulls me tighter into his arms. He whispers soft words into my hair and rocks me gently while his fingers stroke soft circles against my clit.

  I want to ask him what’s wrong, but of course I can’t. I’m just an animal, and everyone knows animals can’t talk. But he sounds so sad, so remorseful. It’s almost breaking my heart.

  He kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes.

  I’m so tired, and his touch, his voice, his very being is so soothing that I can’t hold out any longer. I drift into the first truly restful sleep I’ve had in days.

  Chapter Eight