by Lee Ash
'You need a lesson in respect,' Pearl sneered. Her crisp footsteps punctuated every syllable and resounded dryly from the corridor's walls. 'You're unruly and pompous and you're too bloody full of yourself.'
Choking back an exclamation of pain, and still stumbling to keep up, Rachel said nothing.
'You also need to learn your place on this estate,' Pearl barked. 'I talk to you and I forget which of us is the slave and which of us is in control.' Shaking her head, clearly unhappy with that detail, she said, 'That's not an endearing quality in servants. It adds nothing to their market value.'
Rachel blinked away tears and glared at her back. She remembered the long-ago tarocco reading when she uncovered Pearl in the personae of the devil card. Although that had happened nearly a month earlier it was still easy to see the svelte, attractive slave trader as a diabolical harbinger of chaos and destruction.
Oblivious to Rachel's thoughts, Pearl pulled more forcefully on the chain. The sudden jerk inspired a fresh flare of agony to rip through Rachel's breasts and pussy. 'Can you hear what I'm saying?' Pearl demanded. 'You need to learn respect; you need to learn your place; and I don't think a lesson in gratitude would be out of place.'
Unwilling to have the woman dominate her, and spout such blatant rubbish, Rachel finally snorted with defiance. 'Gratitude?' she exploded. 'Why would I have to show gratitude to you? You've just allowed the sneakiest maid on the estate to punish me. Do you think I should be thanking you for that?'
She placed her hand over Pearl's wrist and deliberately stopped following. For an instant the anguish in her breasts and sex was so intense she feared she had just suffered permanent damage. Her nipples screamed and her clitoris felt as though it had been wrenched from her body. It was only when the throbbing had subsided to a dull, excited pulse, that she realised her body had suffered yet another unbearable torment and proved itself infuriatingly resilient. The trembling in her pussy was the familiar greedy urge that always demanded satisfaction but she refused to acknowledge its presence. 'Why should I show you any gratitude?' she demanded. 'What have you ever done for me?'
They stood outside the door to the basement and Pearl glared ferociously. 'You should be showing me some gratitude because I've put an end to the tarocco readings,' she hissed. 'You should be showing me some gratitude because I realised how much you hated that foolish little ritual and I asked your master to stop wasting his time with the torment.'
Rachel stared at her, incredulous, and wondered if it could possibly be true. She did hate reading the cards and the thought she would never have to be subjected to that ordeal again was almost enough to make her feel indebted to Pearl. Wilfully, she suppressed her appreciation and shook her head. Humbled by uncertainty she said softly, 'I didn't know. I've only just arrived back at the estate and no one told me that you'd called an end to the tarocco readings.'
'Of course you didn't know,' Pearl agreed. 'And, even if you did know, you'd be arrogant enough to think it's a change that was brought about by your own doing.'
Rachel opened her mouth to protest but she didn't get the opportunity to say anything. Pearl slapped her across the face and then grabbed the chains again. Ushering her through the basement doorway, almost pulling her down the stairs, Pearl said, 'You're an arrogant little bitch with an inflated self-opinion, Rachel. One way or another we're going to have to change that and, as a first step, you're going to undergo some modifications.'
O'Mara stood by the side of the fourth bed, smiling excitedly. 'Everything is ready for her, Mistress Pearl.'
Ignoring the maid, taking a pair of cable-cutters from the top of one of the studio's cabinets, Pearl advanced on Rachel. 'Lie down, stay quiet, and get ready to learn which of us is in control.'
For a moment Rachel thought of defying the instruction and considered pushing past the slave trader and hurrying back to her bedroom to retrieve the photograph. Waiting for the right moment and evaluating the consequences were suddenly immaterial. She believed, if she showed the picture to Master Vince, he would finally see Pearl for the liar that she was and expel her from the estate. But the worry that he might side with his betrothed - the gnawing fear that he might overlook her slight falsehood - was enough to make her hesitate. And, as Pearl stepped closer, forcing Rachel to retreat toward the bed, she inwardly conceded that she couldn't use the photograph until the timing was just right. With ill grace, she climbed onto the bed.
'Strap her arms,' Pearl snapped. 'Put her legs in the stirrups.'
Rachel didn't bother resisting as O'Mara secured her. Cold steel encircled her wrists and ankles and she knew she would be unable to escape whatever discipline Pearl wanted to exact. Her heart beat faster when she saw the slave trader was still wielding the hefty pair of cable-cutters. Worries of what trauma might be inflicted made her stomach twist with a mixture of horror and loathsome excitement. Swallowing thickly, she glanced at Pearl and asked, 'What are you going to do?'
Pearl's grin was wicked as she grabbed Rachel's chain and tugged hard.
Her nipples were pulled by their piercings and, between her legs, she could see her clitoris being drawn from beneath its hood. The pressure was unrelenting and severe enough to squeeze tears from Rachel's eyes. Snatching back a sob she asked again, 'What are you going to do?'
Pearl placed the cable-cutters against Rachel's breast and said, 'I'm going to release you from this chain.' Smiling cruelly, teasing the metal jaws around the stiffness of Rachel's nipple, she allowed the blades to touch either side. The steel was ice cold and pressed easily into the yielding flesh of Rachel's breast. Her eyes opened wide with panic and she studied Pearl's face to see if the woman was serious.
Pearl wasn't looking at her, seemingly fascinated by the way the cable-cutters pressed against the hard nub of her nipple. She eased the grips slightly closed and Rachel's fears intensified as she realised how close she was to suffering permanent disfigurement. Her nipple was caught between the jaws of cable-cutter and she could almost imagine the distress that would come from them closing. She tried to shrink away but the clasps at her wrists and ankles were secure and it only took a moment's struggle to realise there was no opportunity for escape.
'Stay perfectly still,' Pearl complained. 'You don't want me to slip, do you? You don't want me to misjudge what I'm doing and make a mistake.' Before she had finished the sentence, she snapped the jaws of the cable-cutters closed.
Rachel snatched a startled breath and then howled. The reaction was involuntary and, as her panic subsided, she glanced down at herself to see what sort of injury the slave trader had caused. Her body felt numb and, although she expected a rush of absolute agony to come from her breast, she could feel nothing. When she saw that Pearl hadn't cut her nipple, and had only severed the steel ring that pierced her, the wave of relief was enormous. She shivered with a rush of gratitude that disappeared when she saw Pearl's mischievous smile.
'Did you really think I was going to hurt you?'
Rachel had to swallow twice before she could find the words to reply. Trembling within her restraints, she gasped, 'I wasn't discounting that possibility.'
Pearl shook her head and attempted to look disappointed.
Rachel barely noticed the expression as the slave trader pulled on the loose length of chain and dragged her other nipple rudely upwards. This time she didn't bother to use any teasing or torment and simply snipped the steel ring with an almost casual flick of her wrist. Her lack of consideration was obvious and Rachel knew the woman wouldn't care if she accidentally caught flesh between the merciless blades of the cable-cutters. Realising she was at the mercy of someone so callous made her stomach churn with new excitement. It was impossible to decide if the danger was causing her fear or arousal but, when her breast was released and finally free from the punishing weight of the chain, she sighed with another wave of relief.
It was the first time in years that her breasts had escaped the weight of the chain and she felt light-headed with the unexpected change in ci
rcumstances. Hope swelled briefly in her chest and she wondered if this presaged a new chapter in her life. The optimism was short-lived because, as soon as Pearl had pulled the severed rings away, she was tugging on the remaining piercing and Rachel's fears returned with crippling force.
She held her breath and tried to stop her thighs from trembling. The discomfort at her clitoris was enormous but nowhere near as unnerving as the threat of having the cable-cutters bite close against her sex. Fighting against the restraints she urged her thighs to spread further apart, not wanting to do anything that might cause an accident. Staring meekly at her tormentor, she watched Pearl grunt with the effort as she squeezed the cable-cutters closed for a final time.
This time, the surge of relief was so great Rachel thought it was almost climactic. Her clitoris was released from the pull of the chain and the absence of any weight was almost like a lover's caress. Unconsciously, Rachel bucked her hips back and forth.
Pearl tossed the chain aside and pulled the remaining semicircle of steel from Rachel's pussy. A sharp sting of pain accompanied its egress but that was the closest she came to suffering any real discomfort from the procedure. Panting heavily, wondering how she had managed to suffer the last two shocks without screaming again, Rachel blinked the tears from her eyes and glanced meekly at the slave trader. 'Is this why you brought me down here?' she asked weakly. The words were an exertion and she hadn't realised how much tension she had suffered while the chain was removed. 'Is this why you wanted me in the studio? So you could remove my chain?'
'Removing your ridiculous chain was one of my reasons,' Pearl agreed. 'But I've only done that so you can stand the modifications. Piercings and chains are a constant torture but they're nothing compared to the perpetual suffering that comes from being made divine. I told your master it would have to be one or the other because no slave could tolerate piercings and my modifications.'
Bewildered, Rachel could only watch.
Pearl snapped instructions to O'Mara and, judging by the maid's efficiency, it seemed clear she was a regular assistant in the studio. One of the suction pumps was pushed between Rachel's legs and, as soon as her labia were nestled within its moulded end, she felt the pressure of a vacuum sucking against her sex. It was a disquieting sensation - impersonal yet exciting - and she fought not to be won over by its mechanical thrill. The resistance was futile because, as soon as O'Mara had increased the pump's setting, and set the suction to its maximum power, Rachel found her clitoris being skilfully teased. The bead of flesh was subjected to an exquisite torment, and pulsed rhythmically until her heartbeat followed that of the pump's own dull, maddening beat. The sensation was unlike anything she had felt in a long time and Rachel couldn't decide if that was because her body was no longer fettered by the cumbersome chains, or if the powerful suction was such a marvellous stimulation. Fresh flurries of excitement sparkled against her sex when Pearl tugged on the pump to check it was securely fixed.
'I'll need the other two attachments,' Pearl told O'Mara.
The maid was eagerly rushing to assist and, putting her arousal aside for a moment, Rachel watched intently. Her nipples were placed inside large, clear plastic tubes. They looked similar in design to the pipe between her legs and, when she felt the suction begin, Rachel realised they were intended for the same purpose. She could see what Pearl was planning - the sight of her nipples swollen to the size of plum-tomatoes inside the tubes was evidence of what the slave trader planned - and she recoiled from the idea of being changed so dramatically.
But, while she didn't want to be modified, it was almost impossible to resist the siren call of the suckling pumps. The moulded end against her labia was fuelling a frenzy of arousal and the pressure on her breasts was nearly as euphoric as the cruellest tit bindings she had ever enjoyed. If the torment continued on the same heady level, Rachel knew it would not take long before she was melting in a pool of her own arousal and she didn't doubt the orgasm would be strong and satisfying. Nevertheless, determined to make her objections known, she met Pearl's gaze and said, 'I don't need your alterations.'
Pearl bent over her and stole a kiss from Rachel's mouth. The contact was unexpected but no less intimate because of that. She slipped her tongue inside, rudely exploring as she made the exchange more passionate. One hand went against the underside of Rachel's breast and the caress was soft and sweet. As their lips lingered together, Pearl's hand slid downward. Her fingertips brushed the flat of Rachel's stomach, caressed the soft flesh of her inner thigh, then stroked against the edge of the moulded tube. Alone, the sensation would have been arousing but coupled with the sweet, suckling pulse of the suction pumps, it almost caused Rachel to surrender to the thrill of an orgasm. She resisted the impulse and defiantly held Pearl's gaze. 'I don't need modifying,' she insisted.
'Of course you don't,' Pearl agreed. 'You're perfect just the way you are. But I'm renowned for improving on perfection and you're my current challenge.' Still smiling she pushed her mouth over Rachel's and tried to extract another kiss.
Deliberately, Rachel turned away. Her body ached with the nearness of orgasm, and she knew that Pearl's mouth might be enough to push her to that state of ecstasy, but she was determined that the woman wouldn't win this battle of wills.
Clearly annoyed by Rachel's defiance, Pearl motioned for O'Mara to leave the room. Obediently, the maid scurried up the stairs. Pearl kept her back to Rachel, adjusting dials on one of the pieces of monitoring equipment, and waited until the basement door had been closed before she spoke again. 'Fight me as much as you like,' she said flatly. 'But I'm a permanent addition to this estate now and you'll soon submit to my domination.'
Again, Rachel thought of the devil card and was struck by how much it reminded her of Pearl. The idea that she would submit to the slave trader's domination was so ludicrous it was almost laughable and she couldn't resist responding. 'Not in this lifetime,' she whispered.
Pearl turned to glare at her, her eyes sparkling with menace. 'You're going to be modified, Rachel,' she insisted. 'And the changes will all be for the better. I've taken it upon myself to make you into a different woman and, if I can't alter your personality, then at least I can alter your physical appearance.'
Rachel struggled against the restraints and only stopped when Pearl placed a steadying hand on her arm. 'How long do I have to stay like this?' she asked. Suddenly struck by an idea for how she could escape, she asked, 'How long before I can go back to my own room?'
Pearl raised an eyebrow, as though she was surprised by the question. After a moment's thought she said, 'I doubt you'll be seeing your own room this evening. Once I've finished with you here I have...'
'At least get my maid to call on me,' Rachel broke in. Her mind had returned to the photograph stored with the cache of contraband. She knew Helena would be able to retrieve it, and surreptitiously leave the damning evidence for Master Vince to discover. All it would take would be a simple, whispered instruction and she could feel guaranteed of the slave trader's downfall. Her doubts about Master Vince siding with his betrothed were banished by the certainty that he would be outraged by Pearl's blatant lie. 'If you insist on leaving me tied to this bed, you must send my maid to visit me. That's the least you can do.'
'Your maid?' Pearl frowned. 'But you no longer have a maid.'
Rachel glared at her and only just stopped herself from demanding an explanation. 'Of course I have a maid,' she said stiffly. 'Helena's been my personal servant since the day I became Master Vince's favourite.'
Pearl nodded sagely. 'And now that you're no longer anyone's favourite, you no longer have a maid.' Shrugging indifferently she turned her back and started up the stairs. 'Besides,' she added, allowing the words to trail over her shoulder. 'If you're referring to that blonde that used to fawn around you, there's no way she can come to your assistance now.'
A knot of unease tightened in Rachel's stomach. 'Helena can come here if she wants,' she told Pearl. 'You wouldn't stop her.'
'I wouldn't have the power to let her come here,' Pearl said. 'She has a new owner now and no longer lives on this estate. I sold her last week while you were away.'
Rachel choked back an exclamation of shock.
'And,' Pearl continued, 'I won't be leaving you tied here all night. Your master and I are dining together this evening and I know how much he values the entertainment you provide. As soon as you've finished this initial stage of the modification, you'll be joining us in the dining room.'
With those words she slammed the studio door, leaving Rachel alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
The world had turned upside-down, Rachel decided, and it wasn't just because she was viewing events through her open legs. Naked, she knelt on one end of the dining table while O'Mara held an identical position at the other. Her face was lowered to the polished mahogany surface, her backside was held high in the air, and a pair of fluttering candles protruded from her pussy and her anus. It was a demeaning role and Rachel couldn't understand how she had gone from being the master's favourite, to just another incidental candle-holder, in such a short space of time. She wondered if O'Mara was considering the same injustice at her reversal of fortunes then decided, because she didn't like the master's personal maid, she didn't particularly care. It was her own situation that mattered and she knew she had to do something to restore herself to her rightful place in her master's estimation.
