His Black Pearl by Jena Cryer Read Free Book Online Page A

spreads soothing ointment across the welts
on my ass and thigh, and slowly I relax. God, that helps. It helps
a whole lot.
    When he’s done, I feel almost indebted.
    Almost.
    He straps my greaves and gloves back in place
and unhooks my collar from the tub. He doesn’t replace the gag,
though. I’m grateful for the small reprieve, and when he carries me
to the heavy steel cage I’d seen earlier, I don’t even struggle as
he lowers me inside.
    This could have been worse.
    So much worse.
    He closes the lid. He snaps a heavy padlock
between the bars. He reaches inside and strokes my back while I lie
there in compliant shock.
    Why are these people doing this to me?
    Firsts they abduct me, violate me, hit me…
and now they comfort me?
    It doesn’t make any sense.
    I could spend my whole life trying to analyze
their behavior, but in the end it all comes back to one easily
drawn conclusion: they’re monsters. They get their kicks out of
dominating defenseless women, and in their perverted little minds,
they probably even think their conquests like it.
    I roll my eyes just thinking about that
deranged delusion. No woman would ever want this. It’s slavery.
It’s vile. It’s evil. It’s the complete opposite of everything
precious and wholesome in life. It’s—
    Movement from the cage across the room
catches my eye, and I gasp when I see what’s inside.
    There’s a girl…no, a woman.
    She looks like she might be a few years older
than me—maybe even older than my master—but she’s beyond beautiful.
Thick blonde hair hangs in a long braid down her back, and
heavily-lashed green eyes stare at me from behind narrow bars.
    She blows me a kiss.
    I’m shocked at first. My pulse quickens for
some reason I don’t understand, and when she rubs her tongue across
those soft, pouty lips, I can’t turn away.
    I’m wet.
    Sweet Lord, why is my pussy wet?
    I’m not gay. I’m a Baptist. I’ve never even
thought of a woman that way before, but when I watch this being,
this…goddess thrust her moist pussy against the bars of her cage,
I’m…I’m…
    I’m supposed to be sickened, but I’m not.
Lord help me, I’m not.
    She wiggles her breasts in my direction, and
my face turns hot. She smirks.
    Is this… Is this bitch toying with me?
    Her deep-throated laugh confirms my
suspicions.
    White Coat’s hand leaves my back, and he
turns toward the woman now mewling up at him. Gloves cover her
hands and familiar greaves encircle her legs, but her body, her
face, her whole attitude is so much different from mine.
    White Coat reaches a hand inside her cage,
and she rolls onto her back. Her legs part. He buries his hand in
her cunt, and she moans.
    It’s a terribly beautiful sound.
    I want to tear my eyes away from the sight of
her arching back and soft, ivory skin, but I can’t. Her breath
quickens, and so does mine. Her eyes are on me when White Coat
finally coaxes her into an orgasm, and my pussy throbs to the same
beat of my racing heart.
    What in the fuck is wrong with me?
    She laughs again.
    White Coat pats her ass once. He makes her
lick the juices off his hand, and then he turns to leave. The
lights go out. The door closes behind him.
    It’s just me and this prissy little bitch
now, and for once I’m grateful for the cages.
    I press my back against the wall behind me
and curl into a tight ball.
    Was that other woman once like me? Did these
bastards somehow break her down and rebuild her into the sex-crazed
animal I see now?
    Is that what they plan to do to me?
    I shiver.
    Oh, God, I need hope. I need to know there’s
at least a chance I won’t turn into a brown-haired version of the
whore across from me. I’m a person for God’s sake. I need to act
human, but I can’t. If I speak, they’ll hit me, and if I try to
stand…
    Well, that didn’t work then, and it sure as
hell won’t work now, not when my cage—or kennel, I suppose—is so
short my back brushes the top bars even when I’m only on and
knees.
    I cry