by Lee Ash
It was a difficult task. She found it almost impossible not to fret over the fear of discovery, the worry of what the cards might reveal, and the wrongness of having to tell another lie to Master Vince. But she knew she wouldn't be able to read the cards if she was thinking about any of those potential problems.
'May the tarocco show my destiny,' Rachel whispered.
She was on the verge of tugging the chain - ready to clear her mind with the distraction of the blistering anguish that could always be wrung from her piercings - when she realised she wasn't properly prepared. Cursing furiously, knowing that she would need more stimulation before she began, she slammed the full deck against the dresser. The antechamber was pitifully unaccessorised and under-furnished and for a brief moment Rachel fretted that there wouldn't be anything she could use to help her create the right mood.
Her anxiety abated when she caught sight of a votive candle. About eighteen inches tall, and at least four inches in diameter, it sat in front of the dresser's mirror with dribbles of spent wax sticking to its thick length. Its orange flame flickered lethargically in the antechamber's draughts and, aside from the sconces on the wall and the occasional burst of lightning, it provided the room's only light. Wary that it might be too long, and sure it was too thick, she realised there was no other choice available to her and quickly blew out the flame. Whether it was too large or not, she knew what had to be done and saw there would be no advantage in shying away from the inevitable.
She believed the mood might have been easier to recreate if she could have allowed her memories to build her arousal. The entire day had been a frantic rush from one extreme of pleasure to another and Rachel knew that dwelling on any of those occasions would have heightened her excitement. From leaving Master Bernard's albergo, through to tasting Helena's engorged labia, Rachel had bounced from one satisfying experience to another and recalling each was enough to send delicious tingles sparkling through her loins. Even Pearl's domination, when the cruel bitch had made Rachel go down on her knees and lick the woman's pussy, inspired a shameful thrill of excitement. But Rachel refused to let herself think about that disquieting episode.
And she realised that a rush of simple arousal wasn't all that she needed to read the cards. In order to make an accurate divination she needed to be in a state of mind where pleasure and pain had melded and her prophecies weren't influenced by opinions, grudges or gratitude.
Reaching clumsily behind herself, bending forward to make the chore easier, Rachel gently eased the base of the candle against her anus. Its girth was infuriatingly thick, and Rachel felt sure it would prove too large for her sphincter, but she didn't dare surrender to the futility of that thought. Closing her eyes, spreading her legs a little wider and trying to relax, she pushed more firmly. The tight ring of muscle fought hard to resist the pressure and she knew it was going to be a struggle to insert the unlubricated candle into her rear. Admittedly, when Helena had been massaging the sweet-scented oils into her body she had teased some against both of Rachel's holes. But that light film of moisture was barely enough to facilitate the massive shaft of wax that now struggled to slide inside her anus.
Twisting the length from side to side, willing her body to relent and accept the penetration, she realised her thoughts had finally moved away from all the day's events and pleasures. She was no longer thinking about the orgasmic thrill that had come when Master Bernard said he wanted her; she wasn't remembering the pleasure she had found in licking and tasting Helena's freshly modified pussy; and she was no longer dwelling on the dark joy that had come from surrendering to Pearl's domination. Her thoughts were concentrated solely on the task of forcing the candle into her rectum and she knew she was going to achieve the penetration. More than that, she felt sure she would reach the state of mind necessary to properly use the cards for divination.
She felt movement between her fingers, briefly hoped that the candle had finally begun to slip inside, then realised her palms had grown sweaty and she was simply losing her grip on the smooth length of wax. Spitting a string of furious expletives she wiped her hand on the lapels of the ermine robe and tried again with more determination.
A spike of pain stung her backside, she almost exclaimed as the shock continued to burn, but she contained the cry as her anus relented and the base finally began to spread her muscle.
Her guttural sigh was a mixture of anguish and satisfaction.
The thick girth was impossibly hard, far too broad, and tears of discomfort began to build in the corners of her eyes. The initial penetration was only a minor victory and Rachel knew, in order to get her thoughts properly focused, she needed to work the length deeper. Gritting her teeth, refreshing her awkward hold on the candle, she urged it further inside and revelled in the forbidden joy.
The inner muscles of her anus were spread painfully wide as the candle plundered deeper. About a third was contained within her bowel and she told herself she had to have a full half of the length inside before she could think about reading the cards. Snatching breaths in vicious gulps, aching from the exertion of holding herself rigid, she squeezed it a little further.
Shaking her head in pointless refusal, Rachel remained motionless as she removed her hand from the candle. She didn't dare move for fear of expelling the length of wax and that unspoken worry was almost enough to make her body shiver with spasms of shame and guilt.
Taking advantage of the moment she pulled hard on the chain and wrenched bright anguish from her nipples and clitoris. Her breath had lowered to a ragged gasp and a lustre of sweat cloaked her body. Grimly she thought the task would be made more simple if she had a third hand but the fatuous notion only served to remind her that the personal reading wouldn't be easy. In the mirror her reflection showed a woman who looked insane with arousal and torment and Rachel stared blindly at the figure standing there. Her nipples were hard and distended and her face already looked to be flushed with the first throes of orgasm. Her jaw was clenched tightly and her eyes sparkled with manic euphoria.
'May the tarocco show my destiny,' she gasped. She slammed the deck down hard against the dresser, turning the top card with well-practised fingers. The reading had begun and she knew the answers were finally within her grasp.
The familiar sight of the lovers made her groan. Even before she had turned the next card she knew what it was going to be and it came as no surprise to see the blasted image of the tower. The third card, equally predictable and just as unsettling, was the devil. 'No,' she moaned softly. With bitter sarcasm she hissed, 'Let the tarocco be my guide.'
The cards were repeating the same message they had given before and Rachel wondered how she was now supposed to interpret their meaning. She had initially thought the lovers represented her and Master Vince; that the tower showed the turmoil that was going to destroy their relationship; and the devil showed Pearl and her diabolical influence. But now she wondered if she had misread the original message, or if the same three cards were simply telling her something different.
It was difficult to analyse them properly because the weight of the candle in her bowel was too much and constantly threatening to slip free. The pain being wrought from her breasts and sex was unbearable. Waves of bright white pain and pleasure shook through her body and fought for control of her senses. Yet, knowing how important it was that she understood the divination, Rachel held her position and tried to make sense of the cards.
'May the tarocco show my destiny,' she repeated, hoping the words might force comprehension. 'Let the tarocco be my guide.'
She tried to reason that the lovers might be her and Master Bernard, and that the tower was showing the destruction of her old way of life as she prepared to end her service with Master Vince and become the property of his brother. But that interpretation didn't feel quite right and failed to explain why she should see Pearl's face in the image of the devil. Furious with frustration she cursed the limitations and ambiguity of the tarocco and hurled the deck down with an angry roa
r.
Scooping the three cards up, shuffling them into the body of the deck, she closed her eyes and willed her concentration away from the reading so she could begin again. She repeatedly cut the cards, shuffling the oversized deck one-handed with a skill that would have made her the envy of a seasoned casino dealer.
Releasing her hold on the chains she reached behind herself and gripped the candle. The length was slippery with sweat from her palms and the moisture from her arousal but even the weight of her fingers was enough to chase tremors of new excitement through the pulsing muscle of her anus. Tensing her buttocks, aching from the exertion, Rachel forced the fat length deeper.
The shock was infuriating and she now realised she was beyond the point of distinguishing pleasure and pain. A need had been awoken inside her and she realised she needed the satisfaction of too much suffering or the release of orgasm. In a state of delicious turmoil she didn't care which struck her first, as long as the peak came soon.
The candle plundered deeper, hurting and exciting with every fresh millimetre she pushed inside. The tears she had been trying to contain spilt down her cheeks and she bit her lower lip to contain the frantic sobs that she wanted to scream. Leaving less than a couple of inches extending from her rear, continuing to hold herself rigid for fear of inadvertently expelling the candle, Rachel resumed her grip on the chains and tugged with renewed force. This time she was determined the cards would give her a proper message and she glared at the mirror with quiet menace.
Her reflection looked less familiar than ever before. Caught in shadows and strained with delight and exasperation she could have been staring at an insane stranger. The manic twinkle in her eyes looked like nothing she had ever seen in her own face.
'May the tarocco show my destiny,' she growled. 'Let the tarocco be my guide.'
Knowing she couldn't prolong the torment much longer, sure Helena would be returning soon, and that she was running the risk of being discovered, Rachel turned three cards one after the other. Her body was pulsing with the threat of orgasm and she didn't doubt that clenching her muscles around the candle would be sufficient to have her screeching with satisfaction, but she resisted that temptation. Blinking the tears from her eyes she glared angrily down at the new display of cards and then gasped with frustration.
She was staring at the same three images she had seen before: the lovers; the tower and the devil.
'NO!' she roared furiously. She hurled the remainder of the deck against the mirror and half expected the tumble of upturned cards to show nothing but lovers, towers and devils. When she glimpsed a flurry of swords, pentacles, coins and wands it only served to confirm that the cards were genuinely trying to impart an important message.
'Mistress Rachel,' Helena gasped. 'What on earth are you doing?'
Releasing her hold on the chains she snatched at the candle and tore it from her backside. The relief was instantaneous and almost as satisfying as the stretching, aching pain. She held herself stiff, sure that an orgasm was about to tear through her body and remained motionless until the teetering pleasure had abated.
Helena scurried to her side, quickly dropping to her knees so she could retrieve the fallen cards from the floor. Rachel stared down at her, waiting until her frantic heartbeat had lessened its pace before she was finally able to speak. When she felt she had control over her body she drew a faltering breath and asked, 'Did you find Master Bernard? Did you do as I told you?'
Helena blushed and from her expression Rachel could see the servant had submitted to him. She wasn't sure where the idea came from, or why it should strike her with such certainty, but there was something in Helena's guilty smile that said she had let Master Bernard use her. More concerned with the impending reading than the servant's sly pleasure, Rachel grabbed her by one shoulder and pulled her from the floor. 'Did he give you a message?' she demanded. 'Have you anything to tell me?'
Helena glanced over her shoulder before replying and studied the empty doorway. Uncertainty made her lower lip tremble but she spoke slowly and carefully. 'He said it would help him greatly if you favoured one particular portfolio.'
Rachel nodded, no longer sure she wanted to hear the rest. She had thought the cards might tell her something useful, help her to decide how best to deal with Master Bernard and maybe advise her on whether or not she should lie to his advantage. But, because they had only shown her the lovers, the tower and the devil, she knew she would have to make the decision on her own.
'Which portfolio? Which portfolio does he want me to favour?'
Helena shook her head, as though her reluctance couldn't completely be contained. With a heavy sigh she said, 'It's the dragon portfolio.'
Rachel nodded solemnly, aware that she still had an important decision to make. She was about to thank the servant, grateful that Helena had chosen to obey her rather than her sense of duty to Master Vince and the estate. But movement in the doorway made her fall silent. Her unease heightened when she realised who was standing there.
Helena caught sight of Rachel's distress and glanced in the same direction. Her tone was etched with shock as she whispered, 'Mistress Pearl.'
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
'Mistress Pearl,' Helena gasped.
Rachel nodded her greeting without saying a word. She was loath to use the hated term of address for the woman but unwilling to instigate another battle of wills. She didn't know how much the slave trader had overheard and she cautiously held her breath and waited to see if her intended treachery had been discovered. Pearl was glaring angrily, and Rachel thought the expression didn't bode well, but experience in servitude had taught her to wait until she was accused before making any confession.
It was obvious that Pearl had made a special effort to dress like a businesswoman for the evening and she wore a stylish suit that fitted snugly on her slender, boyish frame. Her short skirt revealed sheer black stockings over slender, coltish legs and she wore a padded bra and flattering top to give an impression of cleavage. Her makeup was simple and understated and would have made her look beautiful if it had been able to conceal the ferocious scowl that twisted her lips. 'I don't trust the tarot cards,' Pearl said. 'I don't trust slaves, and I particularly don't trust you two conniving bitches.'
Rachel said nothing and willed Helena to remain silent. She was growing confident in her belief that Pearl hadn't overheard their conversation but something was clearly amiss and she suspected the woman wanted to make some demonstration of her authority.
'Your master requires you in the chapel,' Pearl said, glaring at Rachel. 'But I thought I'd familiarise myself with this archaic little ritual before I send you down there. What's going on here? What are you up to?'
Helena started to reply and, fearful her servant would babble a damning confession, Rachel spoke over her. 'Helena was preparing me for reading the tarocco,' she said evenly. 'Helena bathes me and dresses me, then we wait here until the master sends a subordinate to tell me that I'm required in the chapel.'
Pearl's brow wrinkled at the slight and Rachel forced her features to remain calm as though the remark had been made in innocence. They remained with their eyes locked on each other until Pearl finally broke the silence. Waving a hand to indicate the antechamber, she asked, 'Is this all part of the preparatory process?'
Rachel nodded.
'This room,' Pearl pressed. 'The ermine robe and the ceremonial bathing. They're all necessary parts of the ritual before you begin your reading?'
'Yes.'
Pearl pointed at Helena. 'And how does this slut fucking Master Bernard fit into the equation? Is that part of your regular preparatory process?'
Helena blushed and opened her mouth ready to speak.
Rachel thought quickly and decided there was only one course of action available. She slapped Helena hard across the face. 'You filthy little whore,' she cried dramatically. Thinking furiously, trying to build on the lie that she knew would be necessary to misdirect their deceit, she said, 'I only excused you
so you could go and relieve yourself. How dare you go and surrender yourself to the master's brother?'
Helena clutched her cheek, her eyes filled with a hurt that had been caused by more than Rachel's unexpected slap. Pearl watched indifferently, arms folded across her chest and an inscrutable expression fixed on her face.
'I'm sorry,' Helena gasped. She sounded as if she was choking on the words. 'I was just...'
Rachel slapped her again, harder this, and the force of the blow almost pushed her to the floor. 'Don't flatter yourself that we would want to hear the details of your sordid little escapade,' she hissed.
Pearl stepped in and stopped Rachel before she could strike her again. Speaking with quiet authority she said, 'You don't need to tire yourself like this. I'm sure you'll need all your energy for reading the tarocco this evening. If your servant needs punishing, I think you should let me do it.'
Helena silently beseeched her but Rachel could see there was no way to politely decline Pearl's offer without arousing suspicion. Taking a reluctant step back she tried to pass the servant an unspoken apology and let her know that the matter had now been taken out of her hands.