by Lee Ash
'I had higher expectations for you,' Pearl said sadly.
Helena studied the woman miserably.
'When I modified your pussy lips I thought you might prove to be stock worthy of special attention. You seemed obedient, bright and submissive: everything a master would want from a slave. But you've disappointed me, Helena. Bend over that dresser.'
Rachel watched Helena obey. She wished there was something she could say to stop the servant's suffering but knew any intervention would only make Pearl suspicious. She tried not to notice the resentful glare that Helena fixed her with through the mirror and stopped herself from brooding on the inevitable torment that lay ahead.
'Look at these beautiful pussy lips,' Pearl said, raising the hem of Helena's skirt.
Rachel's gaze was drawn to the marvellous expanse of glistening pink flesh between Helena's buttocks and the sight was exciting enough to make her shiver. For an instant she was struck by envy as she watched Pearl's hand inch closer to the servant's labia.
'I personally sculpted these lips so they would look like perfection,' Pearl said proudly. 'I invested my skill, time and energy in making your skanky minge look like the most beautiful cunt ever created, and you go around using it in any manner that you please.'
Helena mumbled an apology but it was obvious that Pearl wasn't going to let her escape so easily. She pressed a finger into the swollen slit of the servant's sex and squirmed it deep. Rachel watched the tip slide inside, followed by a knuckle, until the back of Pearl's hand was pressed against the engorged flesh.
Helena gasped.
Pearl eased a second finger into her pussy and, when she pulled her hand away, her fingers were daubed with phlegmatic strings of white semen. 'Master Bernard's spunk?' she sneered, pushing the fingers in front of Helena's nose. 'Is that what this is?'
The servant sobbed and lowered her gaze.
Rachel could have told Pearl that her guess was correct because she recognised the rich, distinctive scent of Master Bernard's climax. Inhaling surreptitiously, trying not to let either of the other women notice her sudden interest and arousal, Rachel forced herself to appear unmoved.
'Is that what this is?' Pearl demanded. Her rising tone indicated the potential for outrage. 'Is that what's tainting my fingers? Is this Master Bernard's spunk?'
Helena coughed and sobbed miserably. Her face was flushed crimson with blushes. 'Yes, Mistress Pearl,' she said quietly. 'That's what it is.'
With quiet anger, Pearl smeared the wet residue over Helena's mouth and jaw. The sticky rivulets glossed her lips and drew silver slug trails beneath her nose. As soon as Pearl had wiped the last remnant against the servant's cheek she pushed both fingers back into her sex and then pulled them free again. Her hand glistened with a fresh load of the creamy white dew.
'Master Bernard must really have enjoyed himself with you,' Pearl observed wryly. She didn't allow Helena a chance to reply, thrusting the wet fingers into her mouth.
The unspoken instruction was obvious and Helena worked her lips and tongue against the slave trader's fingers in an eager attempt to lick her clean. Her eyes shone with the promise of tears and they started to flow down her cheeks when Pearl snatched her hand away. Miserably, she glared into the mirror and Rachel saw the servant was fixing her with a look of injured upset.
Knowing she deserved the enmity, Rachel looked away. She wished she could stop Pearl from disciplining the servant, it didn't seem right that Helena was being punished for following an instruction, but Rachel couldn't think of a way to intervene without making Pearl suspicious. Racking her brains, clumsily considering ideas then discounting them, she didn't bother watching as Pearl finger-fed another smear of Master Bernard's ejaculate into Helena's mouth.
'Go on, you little slut,' Pearl growled. 'Lick my fingers clean.'
Greedily, Helena devoured the spend from Pearl's hand. Tears still trailed down her cheeks but the glassy light in her eyes now looked to be shining with the dark arousal that always came from humiliation and Rachel was relieved to see that familiar sparkle.
In her heart Rachel knew the punishment wasn't really deserved but she did feel as though Helena needed some sort of reprimand. The image of the servant being used by Master Bernard, his thick shaft pounding incessantly between her legs, was enough to cause a prickle of jealousy. At the albergo she had seen him with a dozen different slaves, pleasuring himself selfishly with every one of them, and she hadn't felt any antipathy for him or his slaves.
But Rachel couldn't cope with the idea that Helena had surrendered herself to him, or that Master Bernard might even have encouraged the liaison. The idea of him grabbing her hips, pushing his swollen erection into her sex lips and then riding her until he came, was too sickening to contemplate.
'I don't think you should have left Rachel unattended,' Pearl decided.
Her shrill, didactic tone brought Rachel back to the antechamber and she wondered if she had missed anything important while her thoughts had been in a turmoil of envy. The hem of Helena's short skirt remained raised and the peach-like mounds of her backside were displayed on either sight of her wet, eager sex.
'I think it sets a dangerous precedent,' Pearl said stiffly. 'And I think you should be punished for breaching rules that your master has quite clearly laid out. Do you agree?'
Rachel was ready to answer on the servant's behalf but she stopped herself and listened to Helena say miserably, 'Yes, Mistress Pearl.'
The slave trader brought her hand sharply against the servant's exposed backside. There was the crisp clap of flesh striking flesh and Rachel was able to watch Pearl's small handprint blossom on Helena's pale bottom. Before the first echo had stopped resounding from the antechamber's walls, Pearl was raising her hand to aim another, furiously sharp blow.
Helena winced. Her teeth were clenched tight together but she still managed to spit a heartfelt apology.
Rachel tried not to find the scene exciting but she had to admit the sight of the servant's reddening rear was fuelling fresh warmth between her legs. The ordeal of preparing herself to read the tarocco had left her with an unsatisfied heat smouldering in her loins and those salacious urges were rekindled by the sight of Helena's torment. Pearl delivered each slap with furious force and it didn't take more than a dozen swift claps before her backside was blushing as scarlet as the cheeks on her face.
Noticing every detail, Rachel saw that the slave trader never landed her hand on the maid's modified pussy lips. She struck the rounded mounds of Helena's buttocks, and clapped sharply against the tops of her thighs, but she neatly avoided the flushed explosion of swollen pink labia.
Engrossed in the scene, Rachel also noticed that Helena's sex was growing wetter with every slap she suffered. That subtle indication of her arousal made Rachel feel less guilty for causing the servant to suffer the punishment and she wondered if Helena might show appropriate gratitude after the tarocco reading was concluded. The idea seemed somehow right because she felt sure that Helena's encounter with Master Bernard had wronged her in some way.
Pearl stroked an elegantly manicured fingernail against Helena's sex.
Avidly involved in the scene, Rachel could see it was nothing more than a light caress and she immediately understood the response that Pearl was trying to evoke. When Helena shivered, arching her back as though she was in the throes of climactic ecstasy, Rachel realised that Pearl had easily achieved her goal.
'Your new lips look perfect,' Pearl mused. She maintained finger contact, teasing the swollen labia and stroking back and forth. 'How do they feel, Helena? How responsive are they?'
Helena's voice was low and sultry. 'They feel wonderful, Mistress Pearl.'
'Are they sensitive?'
'Extremely.'
'Too sensitive?'
Rachel could hear that it was a leading question, and knew that Pearl was lulling the servant into a false sense of trust and security, but she could also see that Helena was oblivious to everything except those sensations
being teased from her pussy.
'I don't think they're too sensitive, Mistress Pearl,' Helena sighed. 'I think they're divine.'
Pearl grabbed the inner labia between her finger and thumb and gripped hard. Twisting her wrist and pulling sharply at the same time, she asked, 'What if I do this, Helena? Do you still think that they're divine?'
Helena slammed her fists against the dresser and almost fell to her knees. If it had been anyone else touching her, Rachel felt sure the servant would have been screaming for them to stop while she pulled herself away. Because it was the master's betrothed, Helena tried to suffer the torment but the pain was obviously close to being unbearable.
'What if I do this?' Pearl repeated. 'Do you think they're too sensitive now?'
Helena tried to reply but she was struggling for breath. Every gasp sounded strangled and inarticulate and the choking sounds she made were torn from her throat. 'Please,' she croaked eventually. 'Please, Mistress Pearl. Please don't do that. It hurts.'
Rather than releasing her hold, Pearl pulled harder.
Rachel could see the slave trader's fingernails were buried into the soft flesh of the labia and she tried not to think how agonising that pain had to be. She could see the tortured misery on the servant's plain, uninteresting face and knew it wouldn't be long before more tears spilt down her cheeks.
'You want me to let go?' Pearl asked softly.
'Yes. Yes please.'
Pearl tightened her grip and pulled harder.
Helena fell to her knees and grunted unhappily.
Pearl's fingernails were embedded deep in the thick lips, the tips lost in a blossom of pink flesh. The muscles on her wrist looked taut with exertion and the veins in her forearm pulsed visibly. 'It's just occurred to me that these pussy lips would look fantastic if they were pierced,' Pearl said enthusiastically. 'What do you think, Helena? Would you like me to pierce them for you? I've got all the necessary equipment in my studio. It would only take a couple of minutes.'
Helena shook her head and sobbed. The small sounds she managed came out like pitiful pleas for mercy.
'Rachel has her pussy pierced,' Pearl reminded Helena. 'I'm sure she'd agree that yours would benefit from a handful of ball closure rings.'
'Please,' Helena cried. 'Please stop, Mistress Pearl.'
Pearl continued as though the slave hadn't spoken. 'There'd be an advantage to getting you pierced,' she confided. With a glimmer of characteristic viciousness, she lowered her voice and pressed her mouth close to Helena's ear. 'If we pierced your pussy, we could then padlock your cunt closed so you didn't go around fucking every available house guest.'
Helena wailed an apology.
Pearl pushed every effort into squeezing her fingers closed for a final time. Once Helena had begun screaming Pearl finally released her hold and stood back.
Helena fell to the floor, writhing and sobbing. She had one hand clutched between her legs and Rachel couldn't work out if the servant was moaning from ecstasy or misery. Studying the tormented flush of her cheeks and the strained muscles in her neck, she suspected Helena would be equally unable to suggest which extreme it might be.
Nervous, suspecting she might now have to face the slave trader's wrath, Rachel turned to face Pearl.
'Perhaps that might teach her to be a little less wayward in future,' Pearl said quietly. Lowering her voice, speaking so only Rachel could hear, she added, 'Although, with some slaves, it's impossible to teach them anything. Some of them have such inflated opinions of their own importance, it takes much stiffer discipline to get the lessons through to them. With that sort of slave, this style of punishment serves no purpose.'
Rachel knew there was a subtext to what the woman was saying, and understood that Pearl regarded her as one of those slaves with an inflated opinion of her own importance, but she chose not to rise to the accusation. Considering the slave trader's words, she decided Helena's punishment had served a purpose. She had watched the servant suffer needlessly and seen the cruel enjoyment Pearl got from hurting her. The punishment had more than served its purpose because Rachel was now determined to get Pearl expelled from the estate. And, if it meant lying to Master Vince to achieve that goal, she knew it was what she would have to do.
The thought might have made her happy if she hadn't seen the cruel glint that still lit Pearl's eyes. 'Your servant won't be able to assist you with the reading,' Pearl said.
Rachel glanced at Helena's broken figure and nodded agreement. 'Master Vince won't be happy,' she said.
Pearl linked her arm possessively in Rachel's and shook her head. 'I've already told you that I aim to make your master happy while I'm here,' she reminded her. 'And I think I can help to fill the gap that Helena has now left.'
Rachel studied her uncertainly. 'How do you mean?'
Pearl's cruel smile was triumphant. 'I'll tend to your every need during the tarocco,' she promised. 'I'll escort you down there and I'll remain by your side until your ordeal is ended.'
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rachel walked boldly down the centre aisle of the chapel staring directly ahead. She didn't look to her left, where Master Bernard sat with one of his ebony companions, nor did she look to her right to see Carrie sitting with Jason. There was a larger congregation than usual in the chapel this evening and the first ten rows were filled with important looking businessmen in suits and ties. A collection of attachÈ cases cluttered the usually empty aisle and, from the periphery of her vision, she saw open laptops, notepads and the glowing displays of mobile phones.
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 h
abit 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.'