by Logan Fox
“I remember my first present. I’ve still got it somewhere I think. Also an anklet. Silver—”
“It’s a bracelet.” Pearl turned her attention back to the box. “It’s so obviously—”
Gia snorted. “Sure. The kind you wear on your ankle.”
“Seriously—”
“She’s right, kitten.”
They both turned, Pearl’s shoulder knocking into Gia’s chest as they stumbled around. Seth stood at the doorway, filling it.
“Why does everyone assume—” Pearl began, tugging the jewellery free.
“Because that’s what slaves wore. That’s what you are. That’s why it’s not a bracelet.”
Pearl froze. The anklet swung from her fingertips, the only movement in the room until Gia squared her shoulders and made for the door. She tried to squeeze past Seth, but he caught her with one hand on her shoulder.
“Not so fast. It’s a full house today: you’ve got a scene too.”
“Now? Can’t I—”
“No. Get yourself cleaned up. I have to take all three of you upstairs in twenty minutes. Hustle.”
He released the girl and disappeared into the den. Gia turned back to Pearl and gave her a sly grin.
“Go on…” she said, hurrying back to Pearl’s side. “Put it on.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.” Gia perched on the edge of her bed, waving her hand enthusiastically until Pearl gave a half shrug and unclasped the anklet.
“Here, let me.”
Before Pearl could agree, the girl bent down, grabbed her ankle, and tugged her foot onto the side of the bed.
“Gia, I can—”
“Shush. Give it.” The girl flicked her fingers at Pearl.
Pearl sighed and handed over the glittering thread, watching with a faint smile on her face as Gia clasped the anklet around her foot. Gia tugged on the thin strand of gold, positioning it so that one of the charms rested in the hollow between the arch of Pearl’s foot and her ankle.
“Pretty…” Gia murmured, running her finger behind the anklet.
Pearl shivered, goose bumps breaking out on her skin. She slowly took her foot away, giving Gia enough time to retrieve her finger.
For a moment, they stared at each other.
“Slave, huh?” Pearl said.
Gia nodded. “Yeah. Welcome to the Fox Pit.”
Seth took her, Gia, and Opal upstairs while Morgan sat on the couch, eating cereal and watching the rest of Opal’s TV show.
Once they were on the landing, Seth dropped Opal and Gia off at the dungeon’s bathroom. Both girls stared at him and then glanced at each other.
Opal groaned loudly. “Again? Why me?”
“Not your decision, kitten.”
“But it’s always me! Why don’t you take Pearl?” Opal waved a hand between Gia and Pearl. “They’re already practically lesbos.”
“Enough, Opal,” Seth said, his voice dangerously low.
Opal crossed her arms over her chest and gave Gia a sullen, sidelong glance.
Gia rolled her eyes and pushed her way into the bathroom, muttering something about nuns and convents. As Seth began leading Pearl away, the girl yelled out, “It’s just ‘cos I’m better than you.”
“What?” Opal slammed open the door, charging into the bathroom after Gia. “Say that to my face, you little slut.”
Pearl turned wide eyes to Seth, but he just shrugged.
“They always fight.” Then he picked up pace, the hand on the back of her neck tightening. “Come on. It’s a far walk, and I still have to round those two up when I get back.”
“Far walk?” Pearl glanced up at him with concern. “Where are we going?”
“The Earth.”
“The… earth?” She stumbled, Seth keeping her upright with no apparent effort. “Like, inside—”
“You were there the other day, Pearl. The place that looks like a church?”
“Oh,” Pearl let the word out with a relieved sigh. And then stiffened when she remembered just how creepy the place was. Just how loudly she’d yelled when Jarred—
“Why there? Why not inside?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.” Seth swiped his keycard against the door panel, pushing through the glass doors that led onto the patio. They swerved for the massive patio table and hurried down the wide stairs.
Pearl’s bare feet sank into the grass as they walked down the slight hill toward the distant labyrinth. She shrugged her shoulders until Seth let her neck go, and then surged forward to catch up with him.
“Thank you for arranging this.”
Seth gave her a quick look, his mouth tight. “I told you I would, didn’t I.”
“It’s… kind of exciting.” Pearl licked her lips, hoping the lie sounded more real to him than it did to her. “In a way, we’ll both be learning.”
Seth gave a non-committal grunt and stepped inside the labyrinth. Pearl hurried after him, hoping he didn’t lose her in the maze’s twists and turns.
“So, Gia’s leaving in a few days,” Pearl said, calling out after the man as he turned a corner.
“She is,” Seth agreed. He glanced at Pearl over his shoulder. “Sure you’ll be glad to have her out of your hair.”
Pearl shook her head. “No, it’s not—she’s fine, really. Kind of grows on you, after a while.”
Another grunt, as non-committal as the first.
“I’m sure you’re going to miss her, though? I mean, she’s been here so long, you must—”
“Sure,” Seth said. “Just like I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
Pearl’s feet slowed. She took a last, jarring step before coming to a stop. Seth continued down the green-walled aisle they were in, and turned right — disappearing.
The hairs on the back of Pearl’s arm were standing up straight.
When she was ‘gone’? Why did that sound so ominous? Why hadn’t he said: ‘when she left’?
A few seconds later, Seth’s head popped out from the hedge.
“Are you coming?” he snapped.
Pearl gave a tiny nod.
God, Greg. Please, please have a plan.
As she walked, the golden thread around her ankle shifted and tickled her. Seth hadn’t said anything when she’d come out of the bedroom wearing it. Hadn’t told her to take it off when she’d stood in the den, waiting for Gia to finish braiding her hair.
But his eyes had kept returning to it, fixing on it.
They cleared the maze, sunlight spearing into them. The sun was barely peeking out from the tall hedge walls — it had to be no later than ten in the morning — and most of the labyrinth’s passages had been cast in deep shadow. Here, in the open square at the centre of the maze, the fresh smell of foliage wasn’t as strong. Instead, she caught a whiff of one of four cherry trees decorating the interior of the maze.
Seth led her toward the fire pit.
It was already open — the shadowy entrance yawned at Pearl as she stepped closer.
Someone had been inside already too. Candles flickered as Seth led her deep into the earth — the Earth? — his steps steady and determined.
“Are you going to stay and watch?” Pearl called out. She was constantly a step behind him — it was that or try and squeeze in beside him.
“No. There are no spectators at private sessions.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “And, paranoid pansy you are, you’ll be happy to know we don’t monitor the Earth, either. Tanner doesn’t like it.”
Pearl nodded, giving Seth a quick, unsteady smile. He shoved open the pair of intimidating bronze-studded doors, leaning into them.
Would she even be able to open them herself if she had to?
She shook away the thought. Her gaze flashed past Seth, fixing on the two distant figures standing by the elk altar.
Greg.
Pearl’s heart gave a short burst of thumps against her breastbone. Her stomach tightened, but muscles she hadn’t even realized were tense relaxed.
He’d come for her.
She was going to get out of here.
When Seth glanced at her over his shoulder, she didn’t have enough time to wipe the smile from her face. He hesitated, his feet faltering. Then he turned to her, an indulgent sparkle in his eyes.
“You look beautiful, kitten,” he whispered. Then, touching his thumb to her bottom lip, he stepped close.
“Now go make me proud.”
14
Just Two Days
Pearl walked to the altar, her feet padding silently on the cold concrete floor. The air smelled of candle wicks down here — candle wicks and crypt-like air, bottled for too long. The wooden pews added a hint of cedar to the mix, but not much: they weren’t new.
Greg wasn’t wearing a mask. Again, neither was Jarred. The two men watched her approach in silence, Greg with a hand on the altar — absently running his fingertips along one of the beautifully carved horns of the elk. Jarred stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He wore a long kimono, dark copper, his chest bare. Greg just wore dark jeans and a white, button-up shirt.
But he’d shaved. Cut his hair. And the clothes were immaculate.
Pearl swallowed, quickly gripping her hands together to stem their trembling.
She ascended the steps as she heard the big double-doors behind her clang shut. Spinning around, she stared at them as goose bumps broke out over her skin.
“Come closer, little blackbird.” Jarred’s deep voice filled the narrow chamber.
Pearl gave him a small nod. “Yes, Master.” She ducked her head, aware of Greg’s sudden frown, and forced her legs up the stairs.
The thin mattress had already been laid on the altar. Pearl paused, her heart giving a hard, sullen thud in her chest, and then she came up to the side of the pale marble slab.
Jarred grabbed her waist, hoisting her up. She gave Greg a small, discrete smile, hiding as much of it behind her hair as she could. His eyes smiled back, but not much else. Those fingers of his — exploring the elk antler — were trembling.
Somehow, it made her feel better to know that he was as nervous as she was.
“Lie down,” Jarred murmured.
Pearl rolled onto her belly, sliding her hands under the marble slab and gripping an antler in each hand. Her fingers brushed against Greg’s, and he jerked away his hand in surprise. He frowned, stepping back as Jarred slid his hands beneath the altar and began fastening Pearl’s wrists with the restraints.
“Uh… I’m sure that’s not necessary. I mean—”
“I need you to fasten her ankles, initiate.”
Pearl glanced up at Greg, catching his budding, open-mouthed protest. She gave her head a tiny shake, and he licked his lips.
Ducking his head, Greg moved out of sight. Pearl started when he touched her ankle — he was examining the anklet. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she hurriedly pressed her forehead into the thin mattress. God, don’t let him ask. Not now, not here. She had no idea what Jarred would think. How the man would react. It sounded as if presents were tolerated, but perhaps she wasn’t supposed to have worn it—
Greg’s hand cupped the arch of her foot. Supple leather brushed her skin as he slid the restraint over her foot, warming her as he tugged it tight.
Pearl let out a small sound as the restraint jerked her leg.
Warmth bloomed deep inside her belly. She squirmed a little, hoping against all hope that the sheer dress she wore wasn’t exposing her underwear. Or the damp spot that was about to form on it.
Greg moved to her other foot, caressing her ankle before restraining it. He yanked even harder this time, bringing a gasp to Pearl’s lips.
Jarred was done with her wrists — had been done for a while — and when she peered up at him through her bangs, she could see a small, satisfied smile on his broad mouth as he watched Greg work.
“Like this?” Greg said, resting a hand on Pearl’s calf.
“Perfect.”
It fascinated her how Jarred’s mouth moved when he spoke. Those thick, sensual lips caressed every word like a lover’s fingertips.
“Now, to begin…” Jarred ran his hand over Pearl’s back as he moved to the middle of the altar. Greg’s fingertips brushed up her leg, hesitating on the back of her thigh. Pressure, and then his hand was flat on her skin. Had Jarred pressed it down? Pearl shivered, and turned her head to the empty seats. The door was still resolutely shut, the candles in the back of the room as still as if they were ornaments instead of real flames.
Both hands drew away from her. The next touch, judging from the soft, hesitant brush against her skin, was Greg’s. He slid up the skirt of her dress, positioning those soft, silky folds in the curve of her lower back.
“That too,” Jarred said.
Greg’s fingers hesitated, and then he slid Pearl’s underwear down her legs, leaving them tangled around her ankles.
“You will notice,” Jarred said quietly, “that her previous session has left only the faintest of traces. A strike with your hand leaves light bruises that fade fully in a few days. Other types of impact play leave brighter, raised marks.”
“Okay,” Greg murmured.
Pearl shifted slightly, and Jarred laid a hand on the small of her back.
“Here, tie this over your sub. She’s prone to wriggling like a little fish when she gets excited.”
Pearl blushed deeply, trying to burrow her head into the thin padding beneath her.
“I really don’t—”
“Please, initiate. I insist. The last thing you want is to accidentally strike her coccyx or kidneys. You could risk permanent injury to your sub.”
“Oh…” Greg’s voice sounded unsteady.
A thick, leather strap slid over Pearl’s waist. She tightened her grip on the elk’s antlers, inhaling deeply. She caught a whiff of Jarred’s scent — freshly ironed clothes with a tease of mint — and let her eyes close.
Hands touched her ass — hesitant, trembling.
“It’s important to increase circulation before you begin,” Jarred said.
Pressure — Jarred urging Greg’s hands harder against her skin. Pearl shivered at his touch. The pain she’d felt over the last few days — evidence of her last visit to this chamber — was long forgotten. Greg began to massage her cheeks.
Pearl let out a soft sigh, relaxing her shoulders and letting go of the marble antlers. Why couldn’t it all just be this: soft, delicious fingers on her muscles?
How the hell was Greg feeling now? If the quivering in his fingertips was anything to go by, then nervous as all hell. She hadn’t been able to tell him anything about this. Jarred’s seemingly-impromptu invitation back to the Fox Pit must have confused the bejesus out of Greg.
But he’d accepted.
Which meant he was serious. Serious about getting her out.
And serious about her. About what he’d said the last time they were together.
Pearl stiffened her shoulders again.
She still didn’t know if she was. How could she possibly tell, with everything going on right now? Crazy billionaires mistaking her for other women. Wolves expecting her to keep a diary of her submission to them. Her and Greg, receiving tutoring in the art of spanking.
Maybe… maybe once she was out of here. Maybe then she’d have time to think. To consider. To figure out what the hell was going on in her own head.
Oh yes… don’t forget about her attempted suicide.
“A few blows, like I explained earlier. Four or five to each side, to warm up your sub’s muscles.”
Pearl bit down on the inside of her lip.
Greg slapped her. Well, no. He kind of patted her.
Jarred laughed. The sound was loud, unexpected, and thrilling.
“No, no, no. Now you’re just teasing her. Here, let me show you.”
Pearl tensed.
Jarred’s hand connected with her ass. She let out a harsh breath, drawing in another in expectation.
&n
bsp; Another strike, this to the same cheek.
Pearl managed not to yelp, but just barely.
Had it been this painful the last time? Her ass cheek stung, her muscles complaining loudly about the abuse.
“Okay,” Greg said. A hand touched the back of her thigh, quickly removed.
“Try to avoid touching anything else. She’s incredibly sensitive to touch, and you don’t want to distract her from her pain.”
“I don’t?” Greg said, sounding concerned.
“You’ll see, initiate.”
A hand slapped onto her ass. Pearl’s head darted up. She had a steady grip on her lower lip now.
Holy hell, that had stung worse than Jarred’s.
“Excellent. Again, three more times.”
So he did: Greg drove his hand onto her ass three more times, and then moved onto the other side. By the end of the warm up round, Pearl was shuddering, her hands so tight around the elk’s antlers, she expected them to snap off at any moment.
“Perfect. Now—” delicate fingertips described graceful waves over her skin. “Let her relax and breathe into it. Let your sub prepare herself. This also promotes additional circulation.”
A second set of fingers joined the first.
“Every sub is different. You will discover their unique likes and dislikes with each scene. Since I’ve already had the pleasure, I know this little blackbird enjoys some extra stimulation.”
A cool, dry finger slid between her cheeks. Pearl gasped as Jarred drew a delicate touch over her sex. She squirmed as much as she could, but with her waist, arms, and ankles restrained, it wasn’t much.
“Go on.” Jarred’s voice, so calm, so patient.
He never withdrew his fingers. The man merely moved his hand aside so Greg could touch her too.
God, she was already soaking wet. Another furious blush heated her cheeks.
Greg slid a finger into her, drawing a shuddering gasp from her. More pressure — another encouragement from Jarred. Two hands began moving over her sex, sliding in opposite directions. Pearl shoved her legs apart as far as she could, groaning, trying to arch her back and failing.