Try Begging Novel - Chapter 75

A pearl necklace?

Thick pearls, strung at intervals of a finger’s width, formed a golden chain that coiled in layers like the iron chain binding Grace’s ankle.

But it was only when Winston held the object up with both hands that she realized it wasn’t a necklace. Even with his arms spread wide, the center of the chain hung down to his knees, and at each end were large loops, big enough to fit three fingers through.

“I had it specially made for you. Do you like it?”

She was dumbfounded. This man was pouring valuable money into such a childish game of treating a human as a pet. Then again, for a great landowner, this might be less than a day’s income.

“I’m happy to be a rich man’s dog, Master. To even wear a leash made of pearls and gold.”

“A leash?”

The moment Winston’s eyes curved into a meaningful smile, an ominous premonition sent shivers down her spine.

“Bella, do you like your new toy?”

“Hah!”

Now, finally, the dog barked like a dog.

Watching the woman whimper like an animal, with the pearl-studded chain between her legs, Leon suddenly recalled a passage from the Bible.

Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.

He couldn’t say why he suddenly recalled this passage.

Well? What about giving pearls to a bitch?

He lightly pushed the chair, which glided across the floor and came right up to her, with his shoe, and a shrill cry burst forth.

“Ah, ugh!”

“My puppy seems to be enjoying herself.”

Leon smiled, his eyes curving, at the woman who was steadily moving away. Of course, the woman’s face looked far from enjoyment.

When the rolling chair stopped, the woman panted, her mouth open. She looked no different from an excited dog. Her mouth was wet and glistening because her hands were tied to her thighs, preventing her from wiping the saliva.

Even when she was seated on the wheeled chair and her ankles were tied to its legs, and when Leon hooked the pearl chain’s loop to the bed railing, the woman’s face showed no hint of what the object was for.

Only when the chain was passed between her parted legs did her eyes widen as she looked up, as if she finally understood.

But she wouldn’t have known it would be this much.

Leon didn’t know either.

Sitting on the chair far from the bed, Leon leaned forward. He rested his chin on the hand holding the other loop of the chain, and the woman groaned, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Ah, ugh…”

The chain had pulled upward, and a large pearl, embedded between her tender flesh, had brushed her clitoris and slipped out.

“It suits you well.”

Watching the sight of pink flesh holding and then spitting out milky white pearls was quite enjoyable.

“You really do look good in white.”

As he shook the chain, lightly stimulating her intimacy, Grace, who had caught her breath with difficulty, replied.

“A lecher whom neither God nor a mental hospital can save. I pity the Grand Duchess who will marry you, knowing nothing.”

“Why pity the Grand Duchess? You’re the one to be pitied.”

The hand holding the leash around her neck lifted, and Grace turned pale.

“Stop, huff!”

His hand began to wrap around the leash, pulling her towards Winston again. The pearls, fixed at finger-width intervals, tapped against her clitoris, parting her labia and disappearing. Each time, a sharp surge of stimulation made all the fine hairs on her body stand on end, and she gasped for breath.

It was an object that made her turn pale, in a different way than the massager Winston called his exclusive torture device.

The pearls strung on the golden chain varied in shape and size. The round, polished pearls were bearable, but…

“Ah, ugh!”

When a pearl with rough protrusions brushed past her clitoris, she felt like she would faint.

Her buttocks, which had risen, plopped back onto the chair, and this time, a small, snowman-shaped pearl scraped down from her clitoris to her vaginal opening. When the protruding part poked into her vaginal opening and then slipped out, Grace again writhed and whimpered.

“Ah, huff, sniff…”

She felt like she was truly going to climax. To climax while being violated by a stone from a shell, after the massager. It was mortifying.

“Don’t hold back. Enjoy it.”

No, from the very beginning, feeling pleasure while being violated by that man was shameful.

At his words not to hold back, Grace tightened her lower body and resisted even more. The chair’s wheels touched Winston’s shoetip, and the chair stopped. She briefly savored the relief that she had held back this time and was about to take a deep breath when…

Smack.

Winston kissed her, then…

“Hah!”

He kicked the chair away with his foot.

“Huff, no…”

The chain moving backward was much harder to endure. The pearls dug into her flesh from behind, mercilessly striking the swollen, engorged nodule.

“Ah, huff!”

In the end, she climaxed before the chair even stopped. Grace whimpered, savoring the pleasure that felt like a refreshing scratch on an unbearably itchy spot.

It was good. It was terribly good. So good that she felt disgusted with herself for enjoying such primitive, vulgar play like an animal.

In her feverish, hazy vision, the most vulgar man she knew stared at her with equally feverish eyes.

She felt as though she, too, had devolved into a lust-crazed animal, no different from him.

She whimpered and bowed her head amidst the lingering climax and humiliation, and the pearls caught between her legs began to brush against her flesh again.

“Don’t… don’t…”

The woman’s pleas sounded to Leon like nothing more than a puppy whining. Like any owner, he couldn’t take his eyes off the whimpering, restless puppy.

Each time he slowly wound and pulled the leash, the smooth pearls seemed to be sucked into the milky white flesh, disappearing into the pale pink inner flesh.

It was a spectacle.

“Huff, stop, hah!”

The woman tied to the chair trembled violently, then let out another loud cry, experiencing another climax. This time, her taut, swollen mucous membrane convulsed, and a transparent stream of fluid spurted from its center.

As water dripped from the chair, tears also streamed from the woman’s eyes, wetting her flushed cheeks.

The moment he pressed the slowly rolling wheels with the sole of his shoe, the woman’s body swayed. Leon embraced the weakly collapsing woman and looked down at her.

Through his thin shirt, the woman’s heart pounded fiercely against his chest. The body pressed against his arm trembled violently. Leon slowly stroked her bare skin up and down, savoring even the standing goosebumps.

The woman’s eyes and lips were all stained bright red, and she gasped for breath as if on the verge of death. He gently brushed away the hair clinging to her face from saliva and sweat, and asked.

“Was it fun?”

At that moment, the woman’s hazy eyes refocused. She twisted her bound limbs, trying to push him away.

“You wouldn’t tell me the location of your base if I sat you down like this and asked, would you? Because now this isn’t torture for you, it’s entertainment.”

That’s not wrong, is it? It’s not.

Her teal eyes, glaring at him as if to kill, began to tremble subtly.

“Entertainment, my ass, ahh…”

Leon pushed the defiant woman back a handspan. He lifted the pearl chain high, and the woman shuddered again.

“Can you say that after seeing this clearly?”

All the pearls, of various shapes, were thoroughly wet with fluid, glistening. As Winston kept shaking the evidence of her enjoyment in front of her eyes, Grace turned her head away.

“To think there’s such a weak interrogator in the world. You’re lucky.”

He put down the chain and pulled Grace back into his embrace.

“Your commander-in-chief abandoned you, but I, your enemy, picked you up and am taking good care of you.”

Abandoned. Picked up. Taking good care. All hypocritical words.

“You’re just scared Jimmy will take me away, so you hide me deep underground…”

She muttered against his chest, and he chuckled above her head.

“Scared? I’m sorry, but I’m not an idiot who’s afraid of things that haven’t happened yet.”

Suddenly, the only thing he had recently come to fear came to mind. Something that hadn’t happened yet. Yet he was afraid.

But Winston was not born with a conscience. Leon felt no remorse for having lied.

“Little Jimmy never tried to save you.”

At least this wasn’t a lie.

Naturally, the woman looked disbelieving. She glared at him accusingly with unwavering eyes. The one who truly deserved the accusation was that bastard who ordered his subordinate and fiancée-to-be to die, with no intention of saving her.

Were you going to that bastard who told you to die?

After re-confining the woman who tried to escape him, he had resisted the urge to shout these words dozens of times a day. If he did…