Gemma (30 page)

Punished once, Gemma dare not disobey and her own arousal flared as she was forced to bring both of Helen's responsive nipples to throbbing rigidity, her mouth moving from one surprisingly large, coffee brown button of flesh to the other, in obedience to her Master's commands as he stood by her side, his crop ready to strike, gazing down at his new slavegirl's quivering breasts and savouring the intensity of her shame as she was tormented for his pleasure.

Warning Gemma not to stop, he moved behind her, thrust her legs roughly apart and sank his hard maleness deep into her belly, the instinctive arching of her neck met with a sharp cut from his crop and a terse command to continue arousing Helen. He took her quickly, with fast, deep lunges and Gemma gasped through her nose, her lips and tongue never ceasing to inflict devastating havoc on Helen's breasts, her own body spiralling towards climax as he neared his peak.

He came massively and Gemma screamed her ecstasy into Helen's palpitating breast as his seed fountained into her belly to release her own furious needs. Taken ruthlessly, Gemma sagged limply over the crate, her face pillowed on Helen's ample breasts as her belly bucked and pulsed in climax, no trace of shame able to complete with the fierce joy of her surrender to her Master.

It was several minutes before Gemma could lift her head and as she did so, her eyes met Helen's horrified stare.

Not having been given permission to speak, Gemma tried to give her what reassurance she could, with a weak smile and an almost imperceptible shrug of her shoulders, designed to convey the message that she was sorry for what she had had to do to her, but she had no choice.

Helen's eyes didn't change and Gemma knew she hadn't understood, but then it was too late, their Master closing the lid over the small brunette and securing the catches.

A short length of chain from a nearby ringbolt to her collar ensured Gemma wouldn't stray and she watched as her Master bent and lifted the crate and its helpless contents in his strong arms and took it from the room, returning a few minutes later to unclip her chain and take her on the same, short trip.

The crate sat in the back of a closed van, lashed down to rings in the floor and in a very few moments, Gemma, too, was secured in a similar manner, lying on her right side, her wrists and ankles linked by a short strap and others at her collar and ankles holding her still. As he bent to gag her, he smiled and told her that she had done well in her training of Helen and she crinkled her eyes in thanks. Then his hands went to her breasts and she gasped with instant arousal as he caressed her gently and chuckled that it didn't seem fair to him that Helen should be the only one to have erect nipples and that, very soon, she wouldn't be! Unable, and most definitely unwilling, to evade his touch, Gemma rocked back and forth the inch or two her bonds allowed, her passion rekindled as he toyed with her hogtied nudity, her breasts and belly drum tight with desire despite her previous climax.

She froze, her eyes growing wide as his extended finger found the puckered ring of her anal passage and she shook her head pleadingly as it pressed firmly, demanding admittance.

He grinned evilly and ordered her to relax her clenched buttocks and she blushed a vivid red as she reluctantly obeyed. One finger, and then another, breached the tight circle and Gemma groaned in despairing shame as, in spite of her wishes, her muscles contracted to draw his fingers deeper into her body.

Calmly and quite deliberately, he combined caresses of her sensitive nipples with the slow, careful probing of his fingers to drive Gemma out of control, her breasts straining forward to meet his touch and her buttocks pushing backwards with a voluptuous rotating movement as she succumbed to the overpowering sensations.

Her orgasm, when it came, was more powerful than Gemma had imagined, but less explosive, seeming almost to slide into her belly in a long, smooth sweep, rather than the abrupt crash she was more used to...but it was no less pleasurable for that and she surrendered no less deeply, her body melting into a warm, delicious haze as she came. He left her then and as her climax swirled around her belly and its power slowly diminished, she smiled into her gag in pure happiness.

The steady purr of the van's engine was very restful and Gemma slipped in and out of a shallow doze as the journey progressed, her body using the time to refresh itself after her exertions.

Steady braking brought her back to full wakefulness and as the van came to a halt and her Master walked through from the driving cab, she looked up at him eagerly, wondering where she was and what would happen next.

"Relax, slavegirl," he told her, "We're not there yet. This is just a little diversion to drop Helen off before we carry on with our trip."

He saw the surprise in Gemma's eyes and chuckled mirthlessly, "Yes," he said, "I know. You thought she was coming with us, didn't you? So did Helen, but you're both wrong. Another van will be here any minute and Helen will be transferring to it, but we will not. One of the phone calls I made was to some old friends of yours, Gemma. I'm sure you remember your trainers, don't you?"

Gemma shivered and her eyes went involuntarily to the crate containing the other brunette. She remembered the two women and the man who had begun her training only too well...and it was not a happy memory, the recollection of their rigidly enforced discipline and stinging punishments still vivid in her mind. Now Helen was to be forced to undergo the same painful education and Gemma did not envy her one little bit.

"I see that you do, slavegirl," he went on coldly, "Good, then a few words of advice from you to her might save her some unnecessary suffering," and he unbuckled her gag, then went to the crate and lowered the end panel to reveal Helen's nude and hopelessly immobilised body.

Gemma spat out the large rubber ball in her mouth and looked to her Master for permission to speak.

"I'll give you thirty seconds or so to tell her what's going to happen to her, slavegirl."

Gemma didn't waste any time, "Listen to me, Helen," she demanded urgently, "This is very important to you. You're not coming with us, you're going to stay here to be trained. Just like I was when I was a new slavegirl. You'll have three trainers and please believe me, they are tough! Much tougher than you can even imagine! They will make you obey, no matter how much you fight and they'll crop you every time you do something wrong. For your own sake, be sensible, Helen! Do exactly what they say, no matter what it is and youll be all right. It's your only chance."

"That's enough, slavegirl," and Gemma stared imploringly at the lovely, black haired girl bound so securely in the travel crate as her Master thrust the gag back between her teeth. She had tried and all she could hope was that Helen would take her warning to heart and act on it. If she didn't, she was in for a very unpleasant and painful time.

The sound of a second vehicle driving up heralded the arrival of Helen's trainers and Gemma shivered as the familiar faces climbed into the van where she lay.

"Ah, how nice to see you again, slave," one of the female trainers stood over her, the woman's eyes glinting with amusement as looked down at Gemma's hogtied body, "What a pity it isn't you that needs training. I enjoyed making you obey and your body was most delightfully responsive to the whip!"

"It still is," her Master confirmed cheerfully and Gemma blushed as the woman gave a predatory smile, "I'm sure it is. But should she ever need retraining, I would be most happy to take her on..."

"I'll bear that in mind, but for now, it is my new slavegirl who needs your services," and Gemma slumped with relief as the trainers and her Master moved to the crate and stared down, Helen's barely audible squeals of horror telling of her helpless misery and anguish as her naked body was examined in humiliating detail.

The crate was then resealed and Gemma was left on her own as it was transferred to the trainer's vehicle, but her spirits sank to rock bottom as a second, identical crate was carried in and prepared for her. Released from her hogtie, but under the watchful gaze of her Master and the three trainers, she had little choice but to step into the crate and allow herself to be strapped into place, her body equally as helpless and defenceless as Helen's had been.

The exchange completed, the trainers took their leave to begin their work and Gemma's Master bent low over her, "We have a long way to go, slavegirl," he informed her, "This may help to relieve the boredom," and his fingers found her breasts.

The breath burst from Gemma's nostrils in an explosive grunt and she tensed against her bonds as he rolled and caressed her ringed nipples, but the straps had been designed specifically to prevent a slavegirl's movement and held her with embarrassing ease.

Hopelessly aroused, her breasts throbbing and belly burning with unsatisfied lust, Gemma could only stare in mute supplication as her Master closed the lid on her torment and snapped the catches to seal her in the dark, silent interior of the transport crate.

The van sped off and Gemma whimpered into her gag, her body helpless prey to the surging arousal forced upon her, but unable to do anything to alleviate its effects as the miles went by.

As her Master had warned, the journey was long...but not so long that her body had time to calm and as the van braked to a halt, she felt her nipples stiffen again in anticipation.

Her wooden prison was lifted and carried a short distance, then she felt a jolt as it was lowered, but to her dismay the lid was not opened. Time went by and her anxiety grew as the crate remained firmly sealed, her mind racing as she tried to imagine the cause of the delay in releasing her.

Distantly, through the thick sound proofing lining her crate, she heard the coughing roar of an engine starting up and felt its vibrations tingle up through her buttocks. A second engine joined in, the vibrations redoubling and the vehicle began to move forward, its wheels bumping over an uneven surface as it accelerated rapidly. The jolting stopped and Gemma felt an invisible weight press her down into the foam lining the box .

Sudden understanding crashed into her brain and she gave a breathy squeal of shock. She was in an aircraft! The engines, the jolting, the sudden weight, it all fell into place. A small 'plane taking off from a grass airfield!

Hard on the heels of that realisation came another, much, much more worrying. She was being flown out of the country, far away from any hope of escape or rescue! Her brain raced feverishly, arousal forgotten as she tried to work out where her possible destination might be, but without knowing the speed of the 'plane, or how far it could fly on a full load of fuel, or even what direction it was heading, the task was beyond her.

The engines droned on, carrying Gemma farther and farther into the unknown and she closed her eyes, forcing herself to relax, suspecting that she would need all of the mental and physical reserves she could find when the 'plane landed.

A change in the engine's note woke her from a deep sleep and as she blinked dazedly, she realised that she could have been unconscious for hours.

The 'plane bounced with a shrill squeal of rubber, then settled on its wheels and rolled gradually to a halt, Gemma sucking in a deep breath to calm her renewed fears. Once again the crate was lifted and moved, once again, she waited for it to be opened and once again, she was disappointed as, unknown to her, she was carried from the 'plane by two uniformed sailors, taken down to a tiny, abandoned harbour and placed aboard a powerful inflatable motor boat.

Her Master took his seat, the sailors cast off the mooring ropes and sent the craft skimming over the calm blue sea towards a huge, white, two masted sailing yacht waiting offshore.

Brilliant sunshine dazzled Gemma as the lid of her prison was thrown back and she screwed up her eyes against the fierce glare, aware of two dark shapes above her. Her pupils narrowed, adjusting, and she gave a muffled squeal of horror. The two shapes were men. Men dressed in white short sleeved shirts and blue shorts, their thick, black, curly hair matched by luxuriant moustaches and their eyes invisible behind dark glasses.

Gemma didn't know either of them and her naked body trembled violently, terrified that she had been sold by The Consortium and these two men were her new Masters!

They bent over her and unbuckled the straps securing her, then pulled her arms behind her back, locked her wrist cuffs and lifted her from the travelling crate.

A great gasp of relief leaked past her gag as she saw her Master deep in conversation with two other men, their backs to her, but her relief gave way to growing apprehension as the men turned towards her and she recognised Matthew and Nicos!

Gripped by the two muscular strangers, Gemma stared around at her surroundings, realising for the first time that she was on a yacht. Even to her untutored eye, the yacht was magnificent, gleaming with spotless paint and varnish, the teak deck beneath her feet scrubbed smooth, polished brass and steel glinting in the sunshine and pristine white sails neatly furled on the booms of the two immensely tall masts.

Her mind flew back to her time as a slavegirl to Axel and Nicos and her belly gave a thrilling lurch as she remembered Nicos telling her that his yacht had room for a slave. This must be his yacht...and she was unquestionably a slave!

As Steven, Matthew and Nicos strolled across the expanse of teak deck towards her. the two men holding her released their grip and stepped back. Immediately, Gemma sank gracefully to her knees and presented her body to her Masters.

"Welcome to my yacht,slavegirl," Nicos greeted her genially, "I have been looking forward to having you aboard."

Gemma swallowed hard, knowing full well that 'having her aboard' could be interpreted two different ways and that he would ensure that she experienced both

Behind her, a deep, harsh voice spoke in a language she did not recognise and Nicos replied briefly in the same language. The two men, crew members she now assumed, moved away, heading forward and Nicos chuckled, "My crew were asking if I still needed their help with you, slavegirl," he told her, "I said I thought I could manage," he chuckled again, "They're good crewmen, but luckily for you, they like boys. Unlike the three of us, who most definitely prefer slavegirls."

Matthew nodded his distinguished grey head, "Yes," he agreed, "Very obedient ones," and he gazed sternly at Gemma until she dropped her eyes submissively.

"Can we get back under the awning?" Steven asked, "It's like an oven out here and I'm not used to this heat."

"Yes, of course. Some shade and a nice cool drink will help. Come, slavegirl," this last addressed to Gemma, who rose to her feet and followed her Masters as they walked beneath a white canvas canopy shading half a dozen thickly upholstered deck chairs and a scattering of low tables.

"Kneel beside my chair, slavegirl and keep still," Nicos ordered sinking into a seat, then turned to Steven, "Call the stewardess, will you please? Just ring that bell by your side."

Almost before the last note of the bell died away, there was a soft rattle of chains and Gemma gaped in astonishment as the tall, slim figure of Clarissa hurried to respond to the summons.

Utterly naked apart from a steel chastity belt around her loins, her wrists and ankles linked by glittering chain running through a central ring on her belt, she went to her knees before Steven and bowed her head, "What may I do to serve you, Master?" she asked softly, "Command me and I will obey," and her long red hair swayed to the trembling of her shoulders.

Steven looked down at the fettered slavegirl kneeling at his feet and smiled cruelly, "Well, well, if it isn't the lovely Clarissa. And in chains, too. What's this, Matthew, I thought Clarissa was your personal love slave? Or has she been found wanting in her duties?"

The older Master chuckled and shook his head, "Clarissa knows better than to be found wanting, dear boy. She knows it would be both foolish and painful. No, no, it's nothing like that. As you say, she is my love slave, but it would have been most discourteous of me to accept Nicos' generous hospitality and contribute nothing in return, so I have offered Clarissa's services to him and, of course, his guests, for the duration of our visit."

There was a clink of chain as Clarissa shuddered and Gemma's eyes filled with tears of pity for the humiliated redhead, remembering how keenly she had envied Clarissa's obvious devotion to Matthew, her love Master. To find herself offered to another Master, to be used as he and his guests saw fit, must have come as a dreadful shock to her and Gemma could only imagine her futile horror as her Master's offer was accepted.