Gemma (6 page)

Moaning and whimpering in the grip of lusts she was powerless to control, Gemma shrieked, "Please Mistress. Give it to me, please I beg you, Mistress, let me come. Make me come, oh please make me come!

The woman's red lips curled into an evil grin of triumph and Gemma's eyes grew round with the realisation that she had begged as a slave to be given a slave's climax. Driven beyond her limits and incapable of further resistance, Gemma capitulated to the inevitability of her enslavement.

Two fingers drove deep into the moist, slick warmth of the brunette's sex, a thumb rubbed firmly at the exquisitely sensitive nub of her protruding clitoris ... and Gemma's quaking belly exploded into a huge orgasm!

The chains at her outflung wrists and ankles held her immobile as powerful contractions racked her belly and Gemma arched her head back, her mouth wide in a silent scream as her climax sent heated love juices flooding around her quivering belly. For long moments, the helpless slavegirl locked rigid in her bonds, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as her orgasm engulfed her, then her eyes slowly opened and she stared in horror at the three trainers who stood before her, drinking in the sight and sounds of her abject and trembling submission to their erotic dominance.

"She's too damned noisy," the taller woman commented acidly, "I'm going to gag her before I make her submit again," and she strolled casually over to the nearby bench and selected a huge leather rod-gag before turning back towards Gemma.

Shuddering to the slowly fading power of her orgasm, Gemma gaped in disbelief as the woman approached her, but then, as the woman raised the black and shining gag towards her lips, the shocked captive realised the awful truth. They really were going to force her to climax to all three of them!

"Oh no! You can't! Not again, I'll never be ..... Awffmmhh! Hhmmpff!"

Propelled by the woman's strong fingers, the massive leather rod forced its way between Gemma's protesting jaws and sank deep into her mouth where its bulk pinned her tongue to the floor of her mouth, bulged out her cheeks and prevented any semblance of recognisable speech! As it was buckled tightly behind her neck, Gemma's nostrils flared as she sucked in air and her head jerked from side to side in futile efforts to dislodge the silencing device.

"That's much better," the woman smiled, "Now I shall test how well this slave responds to a little mixture of pain and pleasure," and to Gemma's sheer terror, drew the five-bladed Devil's Palm from her belt and allowed its leather thongs to slide through her fingers.

Frozen with horror, Gemma could not tear her eyes away from the swinging leather and her throat worked convulsively as she mumbled wordless pleas for mercy into the gag sealing her lips.

Her whole body flinched as the woman let the thongs trail across her breasts and nipples, their touch both frightening and, at the same time, distinctly erotic! Not daring to admit the fact, even to herself, Gemma gulped nervously, trying hard to fight down the definite arousal she could not help but feel as the leather strands brushed her sensitive buds. They always had been sensitive, but after the way she had been aroused and made to climax by the other woman, they were even worse than usual and Gemma groaned to herself as, despite her fear of the Devil's Palm and her determination not to become aroused, her nipples began to stir and grow hard.

The woman chuckled and Gemma felt her face redden as her unwanted response was noted, but there was just nothing she could do except close her eyes and blot out the cruel smile of her tormentor.

A mistake, for the moment her eyes closed, her trainer gave a wristy flick and the strands of the Devil's Palm snapped down across Gemma's left thigh with stinging accuracy.

Gemma's muffled squeal and her Mistress's rebuke came as one, "I didn't tell you to close your eyes, slavegirl."

Unable to protect herself, Gemma moaned in anguish as the leather returned to her nipples, teasing and toying with the delicate buds until they grew hard and rigid, standing erect atop her small breasts and sending jolts of arousal streaking through her helpless body with each pleasurable but frightening touch.

Slowly, cruelly slowly, the leather thongs inched their way lower, down and across Gemma's trembling belly and the spread brunette raised her eyes to stare into the glittering gaze of her tormentor.

The woman nodded and Gemma's belly surged with a swirling, fiery heat as she understood that the woman was going to use her whip to arouse between Gemma's gaping thighs! The whip inched lower and a great gasp of despairing ecstasy was torn from the brunette's throat as the cruel thongs flicked gently at the moist and puffy flesh of her labia.

The sensation was shattering and Gemma arched in her bonds as a malestrom of conflicting emotions crashed over her. Fear and horror there certainly were, but mixed with them were tremendous arousal, blazing need and an element of guilty pleasure, for Gemma suddenly realised that she was actually enjoying being the helpless victim of circumstances she could not control!

The shock sent her brain reeling and she gasped into her gag as a second climax built towards its peak in her roiling belly.

"Not yet, slavegirl," the harsh order was accompanied by a patch of smarting heat on her right thigh as the Devil's Palm landed, but even this was unable to hold back the inexorable growth of Gemma's orgasm, serving only to add fuel to the flames of lust consuming her.

Twice more the leather cracked across Gemma's thighs, but her passion was beyond control and her belly began to pulse rythmically in the last seconds before her orgasm broke.

Fingers seized her throbbing nipples, pinching sharply and drawing a shrill gasp of delicious pain from her, the additional stimulation breaking down the last barrier.

Gemma convulsed hugely, her belly pounding and shuddering as sprays of love juices jetted into her and she surrendered to the furious passions unleashed by her bondage and arousal at the hands of trainers skilled in the art of subjugation and wise in the ways of slavegirls and what could be extracted from them.

Lost in her own world of passion and ecstasy, Gemma neither knew nor cared what her submission showed about her as she savoured every last drop of sexual pleasure to be had from her orgasm.

Later, Gemma would remember and wonder how it could be that she had become a slave, but at that moment her physical lusts ruled her completely and she could no more control her responses than she could escape from the chains and leather which held her captive.

As she returned to Earth from the sexual heights to which she had been transported, Gemma was confronted with cold, hard reality as she found that she was still securely bound and tightly gagged.

Worse, the third member of her trainers, the man, was staring at her with a cold, speculative gleam in his eye. A gleam that told Gemma that her ordeal was not yet over.

Forced to endure his long, slow, humiliatingly detailed inspection of her nude body, Gemma's face flamed a bright, embarrassed scarlet and her limbs tensed vainly against her bonds in her efforts to hide her shame at the all too obvious evidence of her surrenders to the two female trainers.

His eyes lingered briefly at her swollen nipples, then tracked slowly down across her rounded, sweat-streaked belly and Gemma whimpered softly into her gag as he bent his knees and subjected the engorged lips of her sex to a minute examination, his low chuckle adding to her misery as he gazed at the silvery beads of love juices bedewing her thighs and dark pubic hair.

An excellent job of preparation, ladies," he said, smiling up at his companions, "I feel sure that your efforts will make my task a simple one," and he lowered his head once more.

Staring down at the top of his sleek black head, Gemma's eyes bulged with the sudden knowledge of what was about to be done to her and the horrifying realisation that she could do nothing to prevent it.

His head moved forward and Gemma screamed in anguish as his lips and tongue found the most intimate and sensitive recesses of her defenceless sex, sending her hurtling into a whirling vortex of devastating arousal. The incredible sensations, coupled with her inability to move and the awful fact of her complete vulnerability to a man who held such absolute power over her, worked together to overwhelm Gemma's feeble resistance and her body writhed and plunged and bucked within the strict confines of her ruthless bondage until her entire shuddering form was bathed in sweat and her muffled screams and moans filled the cell.

Almost at her peak, she sobbed in disbelief and loss as the man sat back on his heels and stared deep into her frantic eyes, "Slavegirls like you are not permitted to control the responses of their body," he told her cruelly, "That is for their Masters to decide. You do understand that, don't you, slavegirl?" and he sat calmly waiting for Gemma to agree.

Shuddering in her intense need, Gemma longed to deny his words and prove to him that she still retained control of her own body and destiny ... but her belly throbbed and seethed with furious heat and she knew that she must, simply must,release the climax boiling within her.

With a choking sob, Gemma nodded her head, delivering herself helplessly into the power of her Masters!

"Very good, slavegirl," he said mockingly, "Then you may climax as the slave you are," and his lips returned to Gemma's trembling body, nuzzling into the slick, wet heat between her thighs, his tongue licking up and down the length of her parted sex and his lips capturing and tugging gently at the hard, protruding numb of her clitoris as she screamed in ecstatic anguish.

Her climax burst upon her like a bomb as the two women bent towards her and their warm, wet mouths fastened greedily on her outthrust breasts, lips and teeth sucking and nipping exquisitely at her rigid nipples, the added stimulation sending Gemma plunging over the precipice of her orgasm.

Far beyond control, Gemma's belly pulsed and shuddered and bucked as she surrendered unconditionally to the blazing passion forced upon her and before the watching eyes of her captors displayed the depth and extent of her sexual subjugation to their implacable will. Spasm after spasm racked her spreadeagled body and tears of shame and despair and unbearable pleasure poured down her gagged cheeks as Gemma recognised her defeat in the cruel grins of her watchers and knew that her body's betrayal of her condemned her to bondage and servitude for as long as her Masters chose to exert their absolute authority over her.

An authority which would and did, increase day by say as Gemma was trained and punished and rewarded until the obedience became almost second nature to her and her thoughts of escape and revenge grew less and less frequent as she came to the unwelcome realisation that there was no way out of her dilemma.

Her only consolation was that, so far at least, she had not actually been taken, but even that small comfort was overshadowed by the certainty that she would be!

By Roxwell, who would insist on getting full value for the money he had invested.

CHAPTER 4

Gemma stood motionless in the pose of a slavegirl's submission she had been taught so well, her back slightly arched and legs spread to display her breasts and belly, wrists tightly clasped at the small of her back and her head lowered.

She was neither bound nor gagged, but dared not break her position or make a sound, for she was in the presence of her trainers and was acutely conscious that the smallest breach of discipline on her part would bring forth instant retribution in the form of stinging lashes from the Devil's Palms hanging from the belts of her three watchers.

Her downcast eyes focused on the rapid rise and fall of her own naked breasts, but Gemma had been held prisoner long enough to no longer feel embarrassment at her enforced nudity and was only relieved that she had managed to get through a whole training session without incurring the displeasure of her captors and the punishment that invariably accompanied their displeasure.

The taller of her two female captors walked behind her, a broad shiny strap in her fist and Gemma winced as the leather was buckled tightly around her wrists, confining her hands behind her.

"Look up, slavegirl. See the nice new present we have for you.."

Obeying the order, Gemma bit back a gasp of dismay as her eyes fastened on the "present" laid out across her male trainer's arm. Polished black leather and shining steel glittered in the lights and she gulped nervously at what appeared to be a long, tapering tube of leather, wide at one end, but narrowing to a small bag at the other, with a heavy steel ring inset at the very tip. A line of much smaller steel rings ran up each edge of the V-shaped opening and through these, black leather lacing criss-crossed from top to bottom, while at the top edge, two long buckled straps were firmly stitched.

Gemma had never seen anything like it in her life, but knew instinctively that, whatever it was, she was not going to enjoy it!

Not that her enjoyment, or otherwise, would make the slightest difference to her trainers.

So it proved, for, as the shorter woman took unconcealed delight in explaining to Gemma that the tube was called a singe glove and was designed to clamp Gemma's arms rigidly behind her, the other two trainers took the device behind the brunette's back and began to work the bag end over Gemma's clasped fingers.

Knowing that any resistance would be both futile and punished, Gemma allowed her wrists to be lifted away from her spine and felt the leather smoothed over her hands and it was only as the bag tightened that Gemma realised that she could no longer unclasp her fingers. Her puzzlement and anxiety grew as the single glove was worked up her forearms and over her elbows to a point near her shoulder blades, but she still failed to comprehend the true nature of the device, even when the long attached straps were drawn over her shoulders, crossed between her breasts, down and under her arms and clipped back to the rear of the single glove.