A Calling to Thrall (4 page)

“It doesn’t have to be that way
,” David
whispers to me. “
Just remember what I said. You can’t forget
your promise
.”

Tears prick my eyes. I feel the fisherman stroke my
cunt one last time and I almost sob for the mercy David has offered
me.

“I won’t forget,” I whisper, and then the fisherman
closes the lid.

I shiver against the gate. The memories rarely
bother me now, but when they do, it takes a while for me to
overcome all the emotions they stir up. I’m not used to dealing
with such complex feelings anymore. I’m not used to much of
anything except the pleasure my master gives me and the obedience
I’m expected to offer in return.

Was any of that old life even real?

I think I was a child once, but I can’t really
remember that time. Vague words like mother and father tug at my
thoughts, but I can’t summon up any image to go with them. I can’t
even remember any name for myself other than the one my master gave
me. Only David’s memory still remains firmly implanted in my
mind.

“I’m here as long as you need me
,” he
whispers, and when the wind hits me, I can almost feel his
touch.

Just ahead, the ponygirl makes another lap.

“She’s got good form,” Mr. Mason says from across
the paddock. “You’d be a fool to waste a prize like this in the
dairy.”

The ponygirl prances at the end of her halter, and
sure enough, she’s moving with perfect equine grace.

“I must admit, your results are remarkable,” Master
says. “I couldn’t even get her to walk in a straight line before
you arrived.”

Mr. Mason pulls at the girl’s reins. She eases out
of her trot and comes to a standstill beside him. He reaches down
to her cunt and strokes her long and hard before giving her rump a
gentle pat.

“Typically I start my new recruits off as handlers,”
Master says, “but in your case, I’m willing to make an exception.
What would you say if I offered you the position of Master
Trainer?”

Mr. Mason cups one of the ponygirl’s breasts in his
hand. A smile slowly touches his lips. “If it means breaking in
more beauties like this one, I’d say you have a deal.”

Master laughs. He tugs at my leash while gesturing
for Mr. Mason to follow us inside.

“I’ll get the paperwork ready,” Master says. “We’ll
start you off with a five-year contract, though I do think you’ll
be here much longer than that. After all, once a man finds his true
calling, very rarely does he ever turn away. Isn’t that right, my
pet?”

Master puts a hand on my head, and I lean into his
touch. When I look up, it’s David who’s staring down at me.

“You wouldn’t abandon your calling, now would
you?”

He smiles, and I smile right back.

No, David, I’d never abandon you. I made a
promise after all. And this time that promise is only too easy to
fulfill
.

He unbuttons his pants, and I bow my chest into the
grass. He digs his fingers into the flesh at my hips. He drives
himself deep inside me, practically all the way to my core, and I
quiver as I surrender yet again to my one true calling, my calling
to Thrall.

If you enjoyed A CALLING TO THRALL, please consider
writing a review at the place you purchased it. Other Thrall Series
novels will become available throughout 2013. Among those currently
published are MILKED INTO THRALL, a 23,000 word novella, and the
first full-length novel in the Thrall Series, HIS BLACK PEARL, a
53,000 word novel detailing the capture and conquest of one of
Thrall’s newest inhabitants. A synopsis and the first three
chapters of HIS BLACK PEARL are available below. If interested, any
of Jena Cryer's work can be downloaded from the Kindle Store or
Smashwords.com.

Adair Bartlett was always a good girl. A devoted
daughter, a straight A student, and a future graduate of one of the
most prestigious medical schools in the South, she has more going
for her than she'd ever dared dream.

So why, then, does her life still feel so empty?

She doubts she'll ever find an answer to that
question. Even a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy can't dispel the
bleakness that tugs at her soul. Still, she presses on, determined
to live up to the standards set by her family and friends.

Only one man understands what she needs.

When she stumbles inside a hole-in-the-wall leather
shop in the back alleys of Florence, Adair never expects its
shopkeeper to take such an interest in her. He swears to help her
find the happiness she so sorely craves, and when he straps an
exquisitely crafted necklace around her more-than-willing neck, she
finds herself helpless to say no

Little does she know the future he has in store for
her is just as dark as the priceless black pearl hanging from her
neck

Kidnapped and sold to a man whose language she can't
even understand, Adair's life becomes a lesson in submission.
Collars and chains are her new clothing. Her every waking moment is
spent learning to become the perfect pet and plaything to a man
whose touch she both fears...and craves.

She has to escape. Freedom is all that matters. But
as time passes and the man she knows only as Master opens her eyes
to the pure joy of total submission, she's left to wonder whether
true happiness lies in the life she left behind or rather at the
end of her master's leash.

The first three chapters are
available for reading
here
.

“Adair Bartlett. Such beautiful name for such
beautiful woman.”

I blushed at the old shopkeeper’s flattery, and
shook my head quickly. No, I wasn’t beautiful. I had frizzy brown
hair and skin far paler than any native-born Texan should ever
condone. My clothes were wrinkled. My jeans were too baggy. And my
short-sleeved T-shirt was purposefully one size too big.

If not for the rather prominent swell of my chest, I
doubt the old man would have known I was a woman at all.

But still, the flattery was nice.

I was standing inside a leather shop just a few
blocks south of the Florence train station. Alone. I should have
known better, but the old shopkeeper was so nice, and besides, my
cousin was still shopping at the seventeenth century farmacia just
a few streets over. She’d made four trips to the monastic shop
already, and though I still thought the frescoes were gorgeous,
there was only so much time I could waste looking at scented
oils.

And anyway, I still hadn’t found my leather
souvenir.

Since beginning our grand tour of Italy, Erica and I
had sworn to pick up one cheesy, Italian-made trinket from every
city we visited. I already had a feathered mask from Venice as well
some Murano glass beads, and since coming to Florence, Erica had
snagged a leather purse and jacket. She’d tried to coax me into
haggling with the street merchant for a pair of my own, but I
hadn’t. Blowing through a few hundred euros might mean nothing to
my cousin, but as the daughter of a police officer and a pharmacy
technician, I’d learned to be much more frugal. No way would I ever
blow through my spending money, especially not after the fortune my
parents had already spent on the plane tickets.

“Don’t worry about it,” my dad said after enduring
nearly an hour of my guilt-ridden protests. “I’ll foot the bill.
You just go have fun. You know you deserve it.”

I’d almost argued, but well, it was Italy, and he
really did want to give me a good graduation present. I was the
first Bartlett to graduate college, and I’d gotten my bachelor’s in
chemistry—a choice neither one of my parents ever could
understand—as well as a letter of acceptance from Vanderbilt
Medical School. Of course my parents had been thrilled. Everyone in
the family was excited.

Everyone but me.

“Bella?” The shopkeeper stepped out from behind his
counter. “What wrong? Sad eyes not belong in such beautiful
face.”

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just…I’m fine.”

And I was.

My life was wonderful. I was smart and successful.
My future was the envy of most of my class, and as for my present,
well, I was on the trip of a lifetime, so enough said. I had
absolutely nothing to complain about. I should have been the
happiest woman in the world.

Only I wasn’t.

I was alone. My whole life I’d been adrift in a sea
of people who knew exactly who they were and what they wanted while
I never had managed to make a single decision on my own. My twelfth
grade counselor was the one who recommended I major in chemistry,
while my mom was the sole reason I’d chosen to apply to medical
school. She’d always dreamed of having a doctor in the family, and
how could I let her down? I was her good girl. I was the one she
could always depend on. I couldn’t just turn my back on my family’s
expectations, especially when I had no idea of what I actually
wanted to do with my life.

The shopkeeper clucked his lips before taking my
chin in his hand. “Don’t worry, mia bella. Old Pietro here now. He
know just what to do.”

He opened a cabinet door behind me before I could
even speak, and the clank and rattle of heavy ceramic overpowered
all of my objections. This man was a stranger. It wasn’t his place
to fix me. For God’s sake, I’d been trying to do that on my own for
years now, and nothing ever worked. I was just destined to be sad,
that’s all. I’d come to accept my fate long ago, and nothing this
old shopkeeper could do would ever change that.

“Ah, look here, bella.” He withdrew a dusty mortar
and pestle from the depths of his cupboard and held it out before
me. “Is truth in here. Truth and happiness. Just watch old Pietro
show you. Then we see sad eyes go bright.”

I forced a smile even though a small part of me
wondered if I was about to become the victim of some Italian scam.
Just what did he intend to do? His hands grabbed tiny vials of
herbs and oils from the shelf above him, and he dumped them into
the mortar seemingly at random. Only after the bowl was half-filled
with a heavy amber tar did he pull a jagged black stone from his
pocket and press it into my hand.

“Here, bella. All need is one kiss, then wishing
stone know what make you happy. Now go on. Kiss. Kiss.”

I still couldn’t figure out why the owner of a
leather store would have a miniature pharmacy housed in the back of
his shop, but I went along with the game anyway. After all, what
harm could there be? The shopkeeper looked like he was having fun,
and I couldn’t deny my own excitement. I wanted to know what he was
going to do next. I had to know. So I pressed the stone to my lips
and prayed for all the happiness I never could find on my own.

“Bene, bella, bene. Now drop in potion and watch.
This magic. Real magic. And it going to fix you like nothing have
before.”

Despite myself, I half-believed what the old man was
telling me. I dropped the rock, and it thunked against the ceramic
mortar with a splash. We both laughed. He dusted a light sprinkle
of silver powder over top before dousing the whole concoction with
a heavy stream of red wine. I prayed he wouldn’t ask me to take a
sip. God only knows what all he put in there. But no, after a few
turns of his pestle, he sank his fingers into the mixture and
pulled out something dark and glistening.

A pearl.

It was a giant black pearl.

Neither of us spoke. I wasn’t sure if I should
applaud or pull out my wallet. The pearl was nearly the size of a
golf ball, and it was just so beautiful. I’d never been very
interested in jewelry, but for some reason this prize sparked a
need I’d never felt before. I wanted it to be mine. No, it had to
be mine.

I grabbed my debit card. “Look, I know it’s probably
expensive, but—”

“No, no price.” The shopkeeper shook his head over
and over again before he looked up at me with wide eyes. “Wishing
stone always right. It know what make you happy. And this…this make
you happy, si?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I mean si. Si, it makes me very
happy.”

He chuckled once before his lips curled into a soft
smile. “Then that all that matter.”

He cleaned the pearl with a wet handkerchief before
he pulled open a drawer in the bottom of his counter and removed a
thick leather strap. The tiny belt was beautifully crafted.
Elaborate scrollwork was etched into every inch of its tanned hide.
I just couldn’t understand why he’d need such a thing until I saw
him affixing my pearl to the large silver hoop hanging from its
center.

“Here.” He held the belt—no, the choker—up to me,
and I lifted my hair as he strapped it around my neck.

It felt perfect.

“Take look, bella.” He led me to a mirror in the
corner of the room. “You like?”

The black pearl filled the space between my collar
bones divinely, and the darkly stained leather hugged my throat
just as naturally as my own skin. It was perfect. Oh, God, it was
absolutely perfect. I never wanted to take it off. Just thinking
about loosing it sent a chill through my heart, and once more I
pressed my wallet into the old shopkeeper’s hands.

“Please,” I said. “I know it has to cost a fortune,
but I really want—”

“No.” He pushed my money away. “No cost. Just wait,
bella. Pietro still have more surprise.”

He patted my cheek before he disappeared through a
door in the back of the room. Was this for real? Was this man, this
stranger, actually going to give me such a gorgeous necklace just
because he wanted me to be happy?

I couldn’t understand it.

I heard the shopkeeper tinkering around in the back
of the store, but I hardly noticed anything besides the flawless
beauty hanging from my neck. How could anyone ever part with
something so magnificent? The thought of him giving it up still
baffled me, but I wasn’t about to question my luck any longer. This
necklace was mine. It became mine at 5:42 pm, and it would stay
mine until—