by Lee Ash
DIVINE CRUELTY
Lee Ash
Silver Moon Books, 2003
PROLOGUE
'Dammit, bitch!' Rachel gasped. 'Stop asking stupid questions and do like I fucking told you! There isn't much time.' A bolt of lightning speared the sky outside the antechamber and she was briefly captured in the blue-white brilliance of its aftermath.
Helena got a microsecond to see the redhead properly and it was sufficient time to make her realise she was dealing with a woman who couldn't be ignored. The image of her figure lingered on Helena's retina long after the night's darkness had returned. Every time she blinked she could see her naked body, the massive breasts glistening with diamonds of sweat, and the fiery tresses clinging lankly to her scalp and shoulders. The vision had such clarity Helena could make out every link on the chains connecting Rachel's intimate piercings.
'Are you going to do it?' Rachel demanded. 'Are you going to do like I asked?'
Helena recoiled from the anger in her voice. She didn't want to incur the redhead's wrath but she knew, if she were to do as Rachel wanted, it would be in direct violation of Master Vince's instructions. Torn by indecision, her panic heightened with every passing second, she finally made up her mind. 'Repeat what you want me to do,' Helena said. 'And say it slowly this time so there's no chance of my making a mistake.'
Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. She moved back to the dresser, as always holding the cumbersome deck of cards in one hand. Standing in front of the mirror she ignored her reflection and stared back into the shadows of the antechamber at Helena's worried expression. 'It's quite simple,' she began with forced patience. 'I only want you to do three small things for me. You can start by pulling on my chains.'
Helena moaned softly but, with the tempestuous squall of the night outside, her protestation went unheard. She stepped to Rachel's side, trying to ignore the woman's nakedness, and traced her fingers against the chains. The thin links of metal passed through the loop of each nipple ring and went down to the small ring sitting behind Rachel's prepuce hood. As a controlling tool, Helena knew the chain could be drawn slowly through the three rings to inspire a rush of delicious pleasure, or tugged briskly to evoke a harsh, cruel pain. It was a torment she had personally yearned to suffer and had been thankful never to receive.
'Pull,' Rachel commanded. 'Didn't I say time was against us?'
Helena wrapped her fist around the two vertical lengths of chain and tugged.
Rachel slammed the heels of her palms against the dresser, her features contorting into a haunted grimace. Her nipples were distended by the piercings, stretching the skin to a degree that looked more than unbearable. Watching with avid interest, unable to resist the impulse of her lurid curiosity, Helena struggled to hide a smile as she held the chain taut.
'Harder,' Rachel grunted. The word was spat with an undertone of self-loathing. 'Pull it harder bitch. You know what's required.'
Reluctantly, Helena drew her fist further down. If she had been exacting this torment on any other woman she didn't doubt the nipple rings would have spat the ball-bearings from their jaws and left her holding a worthless length of chain. Because Rachel was Master Vince's favourite, and because her breast and clit rings had been sealed closed with solder, Helena knew that they were never going to relent. More likely the chain might snap, or Rachel's skin would tear, before the rings broke open.
'Do it harder,' Rachel insisted, pulling herself back. Sweat glistened on her brow and her eyelids flickered as though she was held in the thrall of some devastating emotion. She trembled lightly, her shoulders and arms shaking, as she fought to control her reaction. 'I need it much harder than that. I need it much, much harder.'
Helena let the chain in her fist fall loose. The redhead's breasts bounced back into their magnificent full forms and she seemed briefly bewildered by the absence of sensation. In the moment she frowned - in the instant she opened her mouth to complain - Helena tugged briskly down with new, unrelenting force.
Rachel groaned.
Her nipples were stretched so fully it exposed the gaping holes of her piercings. From between her legs, peeping through the ginger thatch of curls covering her sex, her clitoral hood appeared. Glancing at the bead of skin, Helena wondered how much anguish such a torment would be likely to involve. She suspected it was a lot and wondered if she could ever have coped with a fraction of that suffering. There was almost an undercurrent of relief to her thoughts when she remembered that she would never have to put up with such a degree of abuse.
'We're nearly there,' Rachel hissed. She grunted the words between staccato breaths, each one sounding as if it had been wrung from sheer pain. 'We're nearly there. And I said there were three things you had to do for me. The second of those things is: I want you to finger my pussy.'
'Mistress!' Helena gasped. She had no compunctions about performing any sexual favour for Rachel, the redhead's beauty and commanding presence had always filled her with an unarguable arousal, but Master Vince had specifically said she wasn't to do any such thing this evening. It was the same instruction he gave before every reading and he always promised retribution for those who disobeyed. Doubts and indecision made her hesitate until Rachel fixed her with a firm, threatening glare.
'Finger my pussy, Helena.' She shifted her legs apart, making her cleft more accessible. 'Please finger my pussy,' she whispered, 'but don't make me beg.'
Unable to resist, Helena reached between the woman's legs and began to tease her labia. The flesh was sticky and sodden, the heat from within radiating towards Helena's palm. As she slipped two fingers into the moist confines, she maintained her hold on the lengths of chain. Her efforts were rewarded by Rachel's reluctant moan.
'Frig me,' Rachel barked.
'Is that the third thing you wanted?'
Rachel sneered at her, making no attempt to disguise her impatience. 'Frigging and fingering are the same fucking thing,' she growled. 'Frig me! Finger me! Just do whatever you would if you were trying to bring me off.'
Knowing better than to argue, determined to obey every instruction now she had gone this far in defying Master Vince, Helena slid her fingers in and out. She began languidly, forcing a third finger alongside the first two before riding them back and forth. Knowing time was against them, she quickened her pace and tugged harder on the chains. Her fingers ploughed briskly in and out of Rachel's sex and the squelching sounds of her pussy echoed from the antechamber's stone walls.
'That's it,' Rachel squealed.
Studying her, Helena thought the redhead looked on the verge of orgasm. She knew it was Rachel's nature to glean pleasure from the wickedest suffering but, even so, her responsiveness this evening was swift. Helena was startled to feel the pre-climactic cramps of Rachel's sex muscles clenching around her knuckles.
'That's it,' Rachel shrieked.
Helena glanced fearfully towards the chancellery, worried the cry might have been overheard. She considered cautioning Rachel then stopped herself with the warning unspoken. They both knew what would happen if Master Vince caught them going against his orders and Helena suspected it would only delay matters if she brought the fact to Rachel's attention.
'That's it,' Rachel gasped again.
This time, Helena was relieved to note the woman's cries were slightly muted.
Rachel lifted her hands from the dresser and began to shuffle the cards. Helena watched her manage the cumbersome deck with ease, and wondered how she was able to make the chore look so easy. She had always had difficulty handling the oversized cards but Rachel, even in the throes of extreme agony and borderline orgasm, shuffled them as though they were no more difficult to manage than a normal sized deck. Not that there was any time to dwell on her talent because Rachel chose that moment to lean cl
ose and whisper the last of her three instructions.
'Now, tongue my arsehole.'
Helena hesitated, but only because she didn't think she could perform all three actions at the same time. When she caught the severity of Rachel's frown, and realised how important this was to her, she struggled to obey without thinking about the technicalities.
Keeping two fingers inside Rachel's pussy, riding them in and out with deepening thrusts, she briefly released her hold on the chains as she knelt behind the redhead. Once her face was over Rachel's backside, her chin lowering into the cleft of her buttocks, she reached for the chain and resumed her hold on the torturous links.
Rachel gasped.
Without any hesitation, Helena pushed her mouth over the puckered ring of the sphincter. She placed a tentative kiss against the forbidden hole, then teased her tongue against the wrinkled flesh. Treating the redhead's deepening sighs as encouragement, Helena tilted her neck and squeezed her tongue through the tight ring of muscle. The swell of resistance she initially encountered was quickly overcome as she forced a penetrating kiss deep into Rachel's anus. As her tongue slid further inside, she rode her fingers faster and pulled harder on the chains.
'May the tarocco show my destiny,' Rachel whispered. It was possible to hear the echo of tortured arousal in her words but only as an undercurrent. Her breath had shortened to ragged gasps yet she still seemed unnaturally distant from the pains and pleasures she was enduring. Without any acknowledgement of what Helena was doing, Rachel slammed three cards down on the dresser one after the other. 'Let the tarocco be my guide.'
Trying to glance past the woman's buttocks, anxious to see what the tarocco were revealing, Helena was frustrated to discover she couldn't continue tonguing Rachel's anus and still see which cards had been turned up. Knowing she shouldn't neglect her chore at this vital stage, she yanked on the chains and made her fingers work faster. Plunging her tongue as deep as it would go Helena was aware of the woman growing more thoughtful and troubled.
'Enough,' Rachel gasped, stepping away.
She moved so quickly Helena almost fell to the floor. The feeling of irritation was easy to quash because of the way she revered Rachel but her own symptoms of arousal were less easy to ignore. Doing Rachel's bidding, using and abusing her so roughly, had inspired an excitement that needed satisfying.
She glanced at the dresser where Rachel had laid three cards. Recognition came instantaneously when Helena saw The Lovers, The Tower and The Devil. Her knowledge of the major arcana was fairly limited but the desolate images in the latter two cards - a medieval turret being destroyed by a bolt of lightning and an evil, diabolical deity - offered little comfort.
Rachel snatched the cards up and shuffled them back into the deck.
'What did the cards say?' Helena asked. 'What did they tell you?'
Still shuffling the pack, Rachel regarded her coolly. If she had been at the extremes of torture and orgasm a moment ago those feelings were now behind her. As was usual for her, she looked a picture of composure and contentment. Ignoring Helena's question, she asked, 'Who is Master Vince entertaining this evening?'
Helena scowled and thought of asking her question again. Knowing Rachel might be displeased by her curiosity, and sure that wouldn't bode well for her future in Master Vince's servitude, she reluctantly set aside her need to know.
'Answer me girl,' Rachel barked. 'Who is Master Vince entertaining this evening?'
'He has two with him,' Helena said quietly. 'There's Master Bernard and...' She fell silent, not wanting to break the bad news.
'And?' Rachel pressed.
Helena studied the stone floor. 'There's Master Bernard and Pearl.'
Rachel's frown said more than any curse she might have muttered. With a deflated air she pulled herself away from the dresser and indicated Helena should help her into her cloak. Once the ermine was wrapped around her shoulders and her hair had been pampered into some semblance of style, she started deliberately towards the antechamber's door.
'Mistress,' Helena started.
Rachel turned on her with a frown.
Curiosity was burning inside her more strongly than her unfulfilled arousal. Helena glanced at the deck of cards in Rachel's hand and said, 'What did they say? What did the tarocco tell you?'
Rachel considered her reply for so long Helena didn't think she was going to answer. When the woman finally spoke her voice was heavy with regret. 'The cards said there will be suffering ahead.'
'Is that all they said?'
'No,' Rachel said quietly. 'They've also shown me how to best deal with it.' With that said, she walked out of the antechamber and into the chapel.
CHAPTER ONE
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 his ebony companion, nor did she look to her right to see Pearl sitting with Master Vince's aide, Jason. She was expected to make directly for the altar and, now she was in Master Vince's immediate presence, she knew better than to defy his instructions.
Driving wind hurled the night's thunderous weather against the building and hammered bullets of rain into the aged stained glass. Candles fluttered impatiently in the chapel's many draughts but Rachel walked on unmindful of the mild chill and indifferent to the attention she received.
'Excellent timing,' Master Vince bellowed. He stood in the pulpit with a mousy blonde cowering beneath his great shadow. 'I was just going to send O'Mara looking for you,' he proclaimed. 'But I can see there's no need for that now.'
Not replying, knowing she wasn't expected to say anything yet, Rachel stepped past him, walked behind the altar, and knelt down. Her heart was pounding hard and she tried telling herself it was only the usual nerves that always came before she gave the master a reading.
But she knew that wasn't entirely the truth. She had never lied to Master Vince before and her intention to do that this evening weighed more heavily than any of the chains he had ever made her wear.
O'Mara hurried to her side and pulled the ermine robe from Rachel's shoulders. With something close to an elaborate flourish, the mousy blonde spread the cloak on the altar then scurried back to the sanctuary of Master Vince's shadow. She stared expectantly up at him like a well-trained cur.
Ignoring her obvious adulation, Master Vince produced his filofax and flicked through the pages. He glanced briefly towards the front row of pews and nodded at Jason. Keenly observing every detail, Rachel knew this was a silent instruction for his aide to begin working on her.
Jason pulled himself from Pearl's side. Even with his head bowed in obvious respect he still towered a good six feet six inches. His tight T-shirt and jeans showed off a muscular frame and revealed massive biceps that were decorated with black ink tattoos. Slowly, he took his position behind Rachel and wiped the sweat from his palms on the hips of his jeans. He stared toward the pulpit waiting for the master's command.
Master Vince traced a finger against one open page and frowned to himself. Without looking up he said absently, 'You know what to do, Jason. Go ahead and prepare her to read the cards.'
They were the words Rachel was always loath to hear. They were the words that invariably preceded her blackest suffering.
Jason grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged sharply back.
His hand was so large she felt sure he could have held all her head without stretching his reach but his size and power weren't the most intimidating aspects of the treatment. He was only moving her head so he had access to the chains dangling from her breasts and Rachel thought he could have managed that without being so brutal. The knowledge that he could be so callous when it wasn't necessary always left her wondering how cruel he might be if he thought she merited the suffering.
The pain was sudden, swift and sharp. A thousand stinging needles pierced her scalp as she squealed silently in protest. She bit back her cry, knowing there was far worse to come, and stared silently up at the vaulted ceiling.
Jason reached in front of her and wrapped his fist around the chains that connected her body piercings. Whereas Helena had been cautious, Jason showed none of that sensitive reserve. He secured his grip, tugged once to test his hold was sufficient, then lifted his arm upward. Rachel was almost dragged from her knees - came close to being suspended by the rings through her nipples and clitoris hood - before he relented and gave her a moment to relax.
Bright fire roared from her breasts and sex, warming her so severely sweat glistened on her brow and down her back. As the loathsome waves of pleasure began to ebb through her, Rachel sniffed back a tear and started shuffling the tarocco. Behind her the electric whine of a vibrator's motor whirred with despicable familiarity. Rachel flushed, ashamed by the deep-seated longing the sound inspired. She kept her gaze fixed firmly on the cards, not wanting to think about any of the faces watching her, or the vile pleasure that was about to begin.
Jason's hand slapped against her buttocks and he hissed for her to lean forward.
