"Anne Bishop - Black Jewels 00 - The Invisible Ring" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bishop Anne)

Offering no response, Grizelle and her unhappy escort walked away.
They gave him no chance to fight. Not that he could have with the way his
cramped legs screamed when the guards hauled him to his feet. They attached
two chains to the wide collar and kept his hands tied behind his back. With
a prissy smile, the steward increased the level of pain coming through the
Ring of Obedience until Jared's already unsteady legs buckled and breathing
took all of his concentration. The short walk to the small building where
lower-class slaves were delivered to their new owners took forever and ended
too soon. The wash-down room contained a pump and half barrel, a wooden
table that held a large chest, and two iron posts positioned on either side
of a drain. Pain shot through the Ring at the same moment the guards untied
his hands. By the time Jared could think again, his wrists and ankles were
cuffed to the posts. One guard pumped water into the half barrel while the
one who'd wanted to cut his eye rummaged through the chest. Jared's gorge
rose when the guard turned around and held up a wide strip of leather that
had buckles on the ends and a leather ball sewn to the center.
"Open your mouth, pretty boy," the guard said with a sneering smile as he
came toward Jared. "You know how to do that."
Jared clenched his teeth.
Vicious pleasure filled the guard's eyes as he held the gag in front of
Jared's mouth. "Open your mouth, or I'll break your teeth."
The steward appeared in the doorway between the rooms and huffed with
annoyance. "We've no time for this. She'll be here soon. Besides, he's
already bought. If there's any fresh damage, the bitch will demand
compensation." His voice shook a little, leaving no doubt about the kind of
compensation the Gray Lady would demand. Another flash of pain came through
the Ring of Obedience. Jared kept his teeth clenched and tried to ride it
out, but it didn't end, didn't end, didn't end until he opened his mouth in
a breathless scream. With a satisfied grunt, the guard shoved the gag into
his mouth and buckled the straps behind his head. The wide leather collar
was too thick and stiff to yield to the pressure of bone, so opening his
mouth had forced his head back. His tongue worked relentlessly to keep the
leather ball from sliding too far back. His stomach twitched, threatening to
respond forcefully if he choked. And his mind . . . It was during his third
year as a pleasure slave, serving in a Black Widow's court. She wasn't
Hayllian, but she'd been a protйgйe of Dorothea SaDiablo and had relished
the lessons on how to cripple the male spirit. He remembered what it felt
like to lie on his back, tied hand and foot to the bed, wearing a gag like
this one. Already dosed with safframate, a vicious aphrodisiac, he'd had no
control over his body's merciless need. He'd lain there, helpless, while she
played with him and rode him until he screamed. Something had twisted inside
him that night, and he'd felt the first flash of savagery. But it had taken
six more soul-killing years before his father's training and the ingrained
honor and respect Blood males felt for the feminine gave way to hatred
strong enough to let him fight back. Six years between that night and the
night that savagery had broken free and he killed the Queen and her Prince
brother. But two years ago, he'd secretly rejoiced when he'd heard that that
Black Widow had played one game too many with the Sadist-and had lost. A
slap on the belly brought him back to the wash-down room and the current
source of pain. The guard bared his teeth in a smile. "Since you ain't going