Precious Pearls

Copyright © 2008 by Crystal Barela

The three things my mistress Juliette loved above all others were my dirty knees, my best behavior and her precious pearls. That night she had insisted upon all three.

It had been my first visit to Mother, a Goth club in the meat packing district where the dress code was black except on special nights like this one. Absence of color was the theme, which was why I found myself wrapped in cellophane and little else. It was winter, but even so, condensation was beginning to build on the inside of my fragile costume.

The taxi driver kept trying to catch my eyes in the rearview mirror, but I kept mine lowered. Any “flirtation” not approved of by my mistress would inspire corporal punishment later.

Juliette sat beside me, my hand in hers.

Before she opened the car door she said, “Do as you’re told at all times.”

As if I would do anything else. The diamond studded riding crop in her other hand was the perfect deterrent.

Mother was not what I expected. The man, who greeted us at the entrance and took our cover fee in his left hand and stamped our hands with skull and crossbones on the right, had filed down his eye teeth to look like vampire fangs. The pale pancake framing his dark goatee and butting the black eyeliner on his lids, added to the illusion.

The club was an odd place for a lady like my Juliette to be. Not old money, like she was born with or the society ladies like she had tea with. Mother was just about as far from Central Park West as we could get.

The simple black velvet curtain in front of us opened into a foyer of black and white tile, similar in shape and size to the tiles in the condo uptown. Unlike our floor, these were covered in hundreds of footprints and spilt drinks. House music was pumping through the doorway on the other side of the room in a beat that made my feet itchy and my stomach quake.

The crowd was diverse only in hair and skin color, the dress code filling the space with black and transparent clothing.

“On your knees, Kitten.”

That’s me, I’m Kitten. Sometimes, if I am good, I am Cat. Kittens are naughty, they spill their milk and track it across the floor. They scratch the furniture and miss the litter box. I had only been in training with Juliette for two months.

I dropped on all fours and Juliette slipped a leash of pearls around my neck. This single strand was eight feet in length, not including the collar. I know because it was my job to polish the pearls after use. Sometimes lick them clean. A sexual rosary to my Goddess.

The room was lined with antique furniture, Goth in look, with rich velvet cushions, and gold filigree accents. French impressionistic portraits of men and women in period costumes lined the walls in heavy thick frames. The walls were papered in black and wine colored stripes. Mother was blown up and overdone.

Juliette stood near six feet in her stocking feet, so in her five inch platforms she towered over most people in the club. Her black corset was tightened so that her waist measured a perfect twenty-four inches around, not a millimeter more or less. I had sucked her in inch by inch, tightening the laces until her spine was a straight like a ruler.

A razor had been applied to her beautiful legs, by my practiced hand, removing every hair so that her skin was smooth as supple as the rich fabrics she wore. Juliette preferred a nude seamed stocking, and they skimmed her legs in a swath of silk.

“Elegance, is civility, dear kitten,” she has said on numerous occasions.

Nevertheless, here I crawled at her side, my knees and palms becoming sticky from tonight’s party mis-haps, in no way elegant. Beside me she stood in contrast; a statuesque Victorian ideal, golden blond hair pulled up off her shoulders in a perfect chignon. Diamonds winking from her ears, and make-up applied with flattering sweeps of a brush in pinks and lavenders.

“Darling, Juliette!” This from a tall beautiful black man near Juliette in height, only his silver top hat making him taller. His eyelids sparkled in the dim light, his full thick lips like plums. Between his brows, the number eight in white glitter. He kissed my mistress on one cheek then the next.

“Thank heavens you came!”

“Not yet darling,” Juliette replied and their heads bent together. They erupted in laughter.

Annoyed, I looked away. I seemed to remember a rather lengthy application of tongue to pussy earlier this evening. Just before leaving, my mistress had come in a series of staccato yips inciting the neighbor’s poodle to join her in duet.

The tug of the leash squeezed my wind pipe. “Head up, kitten.”

“She’s perfect, Juliette,” the man said, crouching down to eye level. “I’m Damon and I can’t wait to be better acquainted, Kitten.” He held his hand out to me, and I nuzzled his palm with my cheek as I had been taught. I caught a whiff of something exotic…leather and linseed oil.

“I knew she would be just great for the show. Is it to be held in here?” she asked. The pirouetted in a slow circle as if looking for a stage.

A passer-by ran a cool hand along my bare ass, sending a wave of heat to my pussy. I jumped hissing, looking for the stranger, and felt the leash tighten around my throat in a sharp reprimand.

“Ignore them, Kitten.”

“No, there are two other rooms in the club,” Damon said, taking Juliette’s elbow. “Much bigger than the old space.”

My mistress followed after him, and I stayed the required three feet behind her. No more, no less.

The sway of her ass was a sight to behold. Juliette’s back view was definitely my favorite. My cheeks and hands had caressed, and my lips had licked and nipped, but I was not allowed to gain
entrance.

Anal play was reserved for her pet. She liked to bend me over the footboard of her mahogany bed and grab hold of my ass cheeks, spreading them wide for target practice. Juliette would ply me with oil, whip me with vengeance and stick me with butt plugs. But her favorite toy was her
precious pearls.

Distracted by my thoughts, I was nearly trampled when we entered the room with the house music. Lights were flashing, catching half naked dancers in the sudden glare. Tits and asses were like sculpture, frozen for a second before the lights flickered, taking in a different part of the gyrating bodies.

The music was deafening, and I shied toward my mistress afraid that my fingers would be stepped on. Her manicured hand dropped to my head, petting my dark hair.

“Stand, Kitten.”

Damon led us down a steep narrow staircase with purple walls. There was barely room for the width of his shoulders and I was glad that Juliette had allowed me to walk. I had not mastered stairs on my hands and knees. I caught sight of my palms, black with dirt and had to force myself not to wipe them on something.

“Kneel.”

The floor at the bottom of the stairs was covered in shiny black astro-turf. I clasped my hands behind my back and kept my head high, my breasts and chin at attention.

We were in a long narrow room, purple like the stairwell. In front of us was a red velvet rope that my mistress’s friend moved so that we could enter. At one end was a small bar, but this space had obviously been made as a lounge and performance area. A tiny stage, only differentiated by the seats encircling the space and the white padded square that had been built into the floor, sat at the center of the room.

“Juliette, we are so pleased you will be entertaining this evening,” said a woman dressed entirely in red patent leather from neck to ankle. Obviously, she was a rule breaker amongst this monochromatic crowd. She was slim and willowy with nearly no breasts and long blonde hair hanging past her shoulders. “It’s been close to a year since you last honored us.”

“No, it is I who am honored,” Juliette said, running a finger down the side of my jaw and clasping my chin and turning my face up for inspection. “I am thrilled to introduce you to my new protégé, Kitten.”

“May I?” Mindy asked, and Juliette nodded.

Mindy bent at the waist, bringing her pale face down to mine, her eyes blurring into one with her closeness. She caressed my cheek with her own, her lips touching mine with cinnamon spice and a wet tongue. I gasped, my mouth parting and my eyes widening with her gentle touch.

“A virgin,” Mindy said, straightening. She licked her lips and stared down at me with limpid blue eyes, lashes caked in thick black mascara. “Can’t wait to try her out.”

My confusion heightened. A virgin I was not.

I had not been told that there would be a performance, or that we would be a part of the act, but from the conversations I had overheard that seemed to be the case. I dropped to my hands and Juliette led me across the hard floor, my knees protesting at the hardness. The smooth tile upstairs had been more to my liking. She led me in-between the chairs and couches to the white square. She put me at its center.

“Sit, Kitten.”

My ass found my calves and I widened my knees. Juliette took hold of a curtain I hadn’t noticed before. It was attached to a pole framing the perimeter of the square, and she pulled it around us so that we were enclosed in a fabric cocoon.

Juliette crouched down behind me, her silk clad knees squeezing my shoulders, her breasts flush with my back. My pussy tightened. With her breath at my ear, she slid her hands down over the saran wrap binding my breasts, stomach and hips, and pulled the plastic membrane up. Her fingers tested my silken cleft, pinching my clit between her thumb and forefinger. She milked the little nubbin, drawing juice from my center and onto her fingers. My mistress brought her fingertips to my lips and painted them with my sticky desire.

“Do not lick your lips,” she whispered. “They will shine under the lights.”

Juliette stood and walked in front of me. She was sure to catch my eyes before licking my wetness from her fingers, making my tongue salivate. I wanted to lick my nectar from my lips.

“Now sit and do as you’re told.” Juliette kissed me on the forehead, then removed the leash from around my neck, and left me behind the curtain.

From behind the fabric I could hear muffled voices. I could tell that the room was filling with people and I wondered what was in store. My mistress had never involved others in our sessions, but I was not shy.

My knees were beginning to ache and I was afraid that my calves were falling asleep when the lights went out. Whispering voices surrounded me from every direction. Cat-calls echoed from near the door and bar, making me nervous. What had Juliette gotten me in to? What sadistic pleasure would we gain from this night?

Mindy spoke from the left side of the sqare. “Thank you my naughty friends for joining us at my club on this very special evening.”

More yelling.

“You are the select few willing to put yourselves on public display, and play with our little kitten,” she said from the right side of the curtain. “I promise you, this pussy is well worth the wait!” This was said from behind me. Mindy was circling my enclosure, strange aquatic music filling the air. “I present to you Mistress Juliette and her aching pussy!”

The curtain flew around the square and it took all the training I had not flinch or look away as Juliette took a spot in front of me and the spotlight stuck us. Her ass was my focal point and keeping me from seeing our audience.

The crowd cheered.

Juliette was striking; her long legs and full breasts a banquet for the eyes. Her riding crop in hand.

“My pussy has never been on stage before.”

This was met by more applause. Juliette walked behind me and my eyes came to rest on the couple in front of me. A redhead in a clear plastic bra and white cowboy hat with the number four painted on the front sat with her partner in silver chaps. His cock rose from his lap like the
Chrysler building, tagged with the number five and covered in silver paint and the redhead’s
silver glitter finger nails.

“But if you want to play with my virgin kitty,”

The knot of hair at the back of my head was yanked from behind and I fell backward, my head between my mistress’ widened legs. Juliette fluttered her fingers, which I knew was a cue to rise. Slowly, I pulled myself up, my abs tightening until my nose was bumping her manicured bush. My pulse raced. The familiar smell made my nostrils tremble.

Juliette took hold of the front of her black panties and pushed the lace to the side of her pussy lips. “All you have to know are three words. Lick, suck and fuck!” She swiveled her hips, the curly blonde hair of her bush nudging my lips.

“Lick, Kitten!” She said, her riding crop slapping my ass in a rapid beat.

My tongue shot out of my mouth like a little piston, jabbing her clit like a punching bag.
The movement of the riding crop slowed, easing into sensual circles around my ass. I widened my tongue so that I catch the width of her pussy, dragging my tongue from her asshole to the line of her muff, and back. The crowd approved of this technique.

“Suck!”

My lips latched onto her hard little clit and she moaned, the audience seeming to moan with her. She pulled away, attached her precious pearls to my collar and walked away from where I knelt.
Then turned to face me, and gestured that I drop on all fours.

“Eight! Fuck!”

Behind me there was movement and large hands took hold of my hips. Instinctively I struggled, but the leash tightened, stilling my movements. The person nudged my legs apart and pushed his well lubed dick into my pussy from behind. His huge prick filled my slick channel as his hands forced me to sit back on his thick prong. The pearls pulled at my throat and I was still, meeting
Juliette’s eyes.

The man groaned and I recognized the deep vibration as Damon.

“Fuck.”

The crowd was quiet, except for the moans and sounds of wet orifices being filled. I used my thighs to pull myself up and began to move on his thick length, his dick hitting every nerve.

“Four,” Juliette called out.

The woman in the cowboy hat came forward and stood in front of us as I fucked Damon. The redhead lifted her tiny plastic skirt.

“Lick!”

My tongue swam in her wet pussy, clean shaven, a bar through her clit. I felt Damon pulse, his dick growing, his come shot into my cunt, and ran down my legs. He got up from beneath me and I lay back on the padded square, the red-head falling on her knees above my head, her cowboy hat shadowing her face.

Cowgirl smelt of licorice and candy, not at all like my lady who was like dark rich truffles. She moaned in long sensuous waves, her body undulating over my face, her hands cupping and tweaking her nipples.

I blinked rapidly as come flew out over the stage, her partner having spent his load at the sight of the two of us on the floor. Cowgirl rubbed the hot jism over her breasts and stomach, sliding her hand to her crotch to tutor me in her likings. Within moments I had her spot and she came in a great wave, her quads tightening around my shoulders.

“Kitten.” My Mistress helped Cowgirl off of me and she took a seat on the couch next to her man, kissing him passionately.

“Kneel,” she ordered.

I returned to my first position and Juliette took hold of the plastic wrap just above my breasts. She had a pair of scissors in hand and she slid the metal blades against my skin, slicing through the plastic, in smooth, precise cuts. The audience held their breath and gasped in unison when my breasts swung free.

Released from their confinement, my breasts seem to have grown in size, nipples hard and needy. Juliette cut across my abdomen, all the way to the smooth skin of my clean shaven mound.

My mistress pushed my shoulder, so I dropped on all fours. She unhooked my leash and began to walk around me in a slow circle. The white of the crowd’s perverted eyes meeting mine in the half light. Everywhere I turned were the hungry stares of strangers.

With a dramatic pause my mistress waited, heightening the tension. With a catch in her voice she started calling out numbers at random.

“Six!”

“Twenty!”

“Nine!”

One after another they approached me.

All of them came on me, in me, or near me that evening.

Short, fat, young, old, black, white, straight, gay.

I had become their catalyst, there forbidden pleasure to be fucked and prodded. A willing participant in a game thought up by my Juliette.

An orgy of flesh and desire accompanied by the moans of the participants, and the confident call of my mistress.

“Seventeen!”

“Twenty-six!”

“One!”

When we had finished, they lay about us in a pleasantly exhausted pile, chairs and sofas kissing bare ass and wet pussy. Juliette stopped behind me and knelt at my rear. She held up her precious pearls in the light and laughed, a sound like the tinkle of crystal chiming.

Juliette began to pop one pearl at a time into my receptive ass, the crowd counting with every pearl inserted. My insides felt heavy and full, like stones gathered at the bottom of a fishbowl. Four feet of pearls hung from my ass like a tail when she was done, resting in the light clasp of her palm.

“Who would like to walk my pet?” she asked.

They took turns, leading me in-between chairs, and every time a pearl slipped from between my tight rosebud, my clit would vibrate like my favorite toy. I was on the edge, holding on by will
power alone.

Juliette had not given me permission to come.

My mistress led me back over to the white cushion at the center of the room and had me lie down on my back. She knelt between my legs and took a firm grasp on the pearls and pulled. Her precious pearls flew from my ass in a serious of pops, like kernels in a bag of popcorn.

“Come!” she commanded.

My hot juices flew from my pussy, shooting across the space between us in a wet spray, hitting Juliette in the face. She laughed, her tongue stealing out to swipe her pout as our audience cheered and applauded.

It was in the early hours of morning and I was sitting on the lip of Juliette’s claw foot tub while she was gently washing my dirty scraped up knees. My reward for being a good kitty was a thorough scrubbing, by my Mistress’s hand. She left no spot unwashed, reclaiming her well behaved pussycat as her own.

After, I crawled into the curve of Juliette’s arms, my body snuggling into a ball, and my mistres ran her hand from my head to the curve of my ass, stroking my sensitive skin with her knowing fingers.

“Good girl, Cat.”

My heart trembled in my chest.

“Don’t forget to wash my pearls in the morning.”

Juliette’s precious pearls were very dirty.