Gemma

by Charles Graham

  Totally cowed, controlled by a single finger, she was helpless as Matthew and Nicos congratulated Steven on his new slave, then decided that such good fortune should be toasted in champagne.

  "Stewardess!"

  Clarissa lifted her head, her green eyes filled with despair, "What may I do to serve you, Master? Command me and I will obey."

  "Champagne and three glasses."

  "At once, Master," Clarissa rose to her feet with fluid grace, the chains on her limbs clinking softly and hurried back inside the cabin.

  "Will she be able to serve champagne in those chains?" Steven asked interestedly.

  Matthew shrugged, "It may be difficult for her, but life for a slavegirl is often difficult. She'll manage, I expect and if she needs encouragement, well, we'll give it to her," and he flexed an imaginary crop between his hands.

  "Mmm. I'd enjoy that," Steven said slowly, "Would you mind if I gave her a taste of the crop?"

  "Not at all. My crop is in my cabin. Send Clarissa to fetch it when she has served the drinks, if you like."

  "Thank you, I will."

  Nicos waved his free arm expansively, "That's one advantage of a sailing yacht. Plenty of ropes and cleats."

  Gemma looked around and realised he was right. Apart from the two tall masts, there were the horizontal booms high above the deck, goal post shaped supports that the booms rested on, vertical steel ladders up to the open steering position, dozens of wires supporting the mast...and everywhere she looked, ropes. Thick, thin, all colours and every one neatly coiled to hang from its own cleat.

  The options for securing a slavegirl were virtually endless!

  A rattle of chains announced Clarissa's return, a bottle of champagne and three glasses balanced on a silver tray, her brow furrowed in concentration. Under the eyes of her three Masters and Gemma, she sank to her knees to place the tray on a low table and poured the champagne, careful not to spill a drop of the golden liquid. Then, one at a time, she took a glass to each of her Masters, going to her knees before him and pressing her lips to the glass before proffering it to him.

  It was a thrillingly submissive display of servitude and Sally felt her groin grow wet as she watched, wondering if she, too, would be made to serve a Master so humbly and so well.

  Clarissa picked up the tray, then turned to face her Masters, "May I serve you in any other way, Masters?" she asked, her cheeks burning redly.

  "Yes, Fetch the crop from my cabin," Matthew ordered, "Master Steven wishes to use it on you."

  For a split second, the redhead teetered on the brink of refusing the order, her eyes flashing with anger at the unfairness of the command, but then her ingrained training took over and she lowered her head, whispering, "At once, Master," and hurried away, her spine stiff with useless fury.

  Matthew chuckled, "I love that dam' girl, but you can't give her an inch," he growled, "She loves being a slavegirl, but never stops pushing to see if I'll let her get away with something. When you've finished with her, I'll give her an extra half dozen, just so she knows that I didn't miss the look in her eye just now."

  Nicos looked down at Gemma, "We will stay a while and watch the first part of Clarissa's disciplining, then I shall take you to my cabin, slavegirl," and he smiled coldly as Gemma's belly kicked powerfully, "Serve me well, slavegirl, or it will be your turn next to feel the crop."

  Gemma chewed on her gag, wishing she could tell him that he wouldn't need it. The shock of being flown to a foreign country, of finding herself aboard his yacht, of seeing Clarissa's deliciously erotic subjugation, of knowing that she would be made to watch as the redhead was whipped for no other reason than to amuse her Masters, had all combined to stir Gemma's physical and emotional senses into a turmoil of masochistic desire which his casual assumption of authority over her body did nothing to alleviate!

  "Move between my legs, slavegirl, your back to me and sit back on your heels."

  As she obeyed, his hands snaked over her shoulders and clamped over her breasts, forcing a groan of pleasure from her, "Not another sound, slavegirl. Now, watch."

  Clarissa returned and knelt before Steven, the gleaming black crop held out in her hand as she looked up at him

  "Is that how I trained to you to offer the crop? I think not!" Matthew was not happy, "Now do it again and do it properly! And while you do it, you can think about the six strokes I shall give you for embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

  Clarissa shuddered in fear, then kissed the crop, her pink tongue licking the leather voluptuously, before thrusting her head down and offering the whip again on the palms of her outstretched hands.

  "Hmmff. Better," Matthew snorted, "Don't hold back when you beat her, Steven. Impertinent little slavegirl bitch needs a lesson in manners."

  Steven took the crop and hauled Clarissa to her feet, pushing the trembling redhead towards a pair of large wooden cleats set close together into the deck and forcing her to her knees. Using all the slack in her chains, he looped her wrists to one and her ankles to the other, holding her on all fours, her spine curved and buttocks raised, the taut stretched cheeks of her bottom bisected by the steel band of her chastity belt running through between her legs.

  Poor Clarissa was terribly vulnerable and clearly knew it, for as Steven ran his hand over her tensed flesh, she gave a gasping moan and weaved her buttocks as if to evade his touch.

  It was never going to be enough and as he raised the crop and brought it down with a wristy flick, she screamed in terrible anguish, her body shuddering violently as a bright red stripe decorated her left buttock and blistering heat seared into her naked flesh.

  Gemma wanted to look away, but, somehow, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the appalling sight and sound of Clarissa's punishment and felt her belly churn with liquid heat as the crop rose and fell and the redhead screamed and writhed wildly.

  Nicos chuckled into her ear, "Excites you, does it, slavegirl?" he whispered cruelly, "Don't worry, I've known lots of slavegirls and every one of them got hot when they saw another slave being whipped! You're no different, it's just part of what you are. Your nature."

  Gemma blushed furiously and wriggled in shame, but then, as his fingers rolled her tender nipples and great waves of overwhelming arousal rippled through her breasts and down into her belly, she knew he was right! She was excited by the scene before her eyes, was shamefully turned on by the mesh of whip stripes criss crossing Clarissa's naked bottom! Exactly as he had known she would be!

  She nestled back deeper between his legs, wriggling sensually against the hard bulge of his maleness and hoping that it would not be too long before it was between her legs, her eyes fixed on the developments taking place in front of her.

  Matthew had joined Steven and was busily unlocking Clarissa's chastity belt, removing the section which ran between her legs...and the redhead's only protection!

  "Interesting," Nicos murmured, "Watch this closely, slavegirl. I do believe Matthew is annoyed enough to make Clarissa climax to the crop."

  Gemma gasped, knowing that being forced to climax in such a manner would be the crowning humiliation for Clarissa. Bad enough to be cropped in front of three Masters and another slavegirl, but to be made to come as well....!

  "You have been cropped by Master Steven, slavegirl," Matthew told the trembling redhead sternly, "Now I shall punish you for failing to obey instantly and for daring to offer a crop to a Master without first kissing it. You will receive twelve strokes and climax to the whip!"

  "No, Master! Please, I beg you, Master!" Clarissa's terror was obviously genuine.

  "Silence! How dare you? One more word and the punishment doubles!" Matthew roared and Clarissa trembled like an aspen.

  The crop whistled down, cruelly hard and the redhead jerked madly at her chains as she was beaten by her adored love Master, but she uttered not a sound as he administered her punishment.

  The twelfth stroke burned across her buttocks and Matthew instantly reversed the crop and thrust the l
eather handle between her juddering thighs.

  Clarissa's legs snapped shut, pulling the crop from Matthew's hand and her neck arched until the slim column of her throat lay bare, her lips drawn back from her teeth in a silent scream of ecstasy and her belly pulsing visibly. Before the gaze of her three Masters and her sister slave, Clarissa hurtled into a shattering climax, spasming helplessly in her jangling chains, the crop projecting from between her clenching buttocks and jiggling up and down as she came and came in massive contractions!

  Nicos turned Gemma's head until he could stare into her eyes, "Clarissa has served her Masters," he said firmly, "Now you will serve me. On your feet, slavegirl." Gemma rose gracefully and preceded her Master from the deck and down into the hull of his yacht, her belly boiling like a cauldron and her sex oozing wetly.

  He flung open a pair of double doors, "In," he grated hoarsely and Gemma found herself in a huge, superbly appointed cabin dominated by a vast bed with beautifully carved, hand crafted teak rails running the full length of its head and foot. She had little time to appreciate her sumptuous surroundings, for Nicos seized her, bent her over the rail at the bed's foot, took a short chain from beneath the covers and snapped it into the ring on her steel collar, holding her doubled over.

  He spread her legs wide, "Don't move, slavegirl!" and Gemma whimpered, her belly seething and churning as he prepared himself to take her.

  His fingers caressed her gently, sliding over the wet flesh of her parted labia and Gemma squealed, her legs half buckling beneath her as he sighed with pleasure to find her so ready, "I shall take you now, like the hot little slavegirl you are," he told her, his voice thick with lust, "And you will submit to me as your Master. But I have not forgotten my promise to you, the last time I saw you. Later, when I choose, you will pleasure me with your lips and your tongue, kneeling before me as my bondage slave."

  Gemma's nervous gulp changed to frantic whimpers of joyous welcome as her Master's hard maleness slid into her slickly receptive sex and buried itself full length in her quaking belly, his fingers burrowing beneath her to capture and stimulate the rigid flesh of her ringed nipples.

  Aroused beyond bearing, a first gigantic orgasm thundered into her belly, drowning her in a boiling flood of scalding love juices as she came helplessly, unable to resist the tremendous power of her lusts.

  Nicos grunted and gathered himself, then began a smooth, rhythmic pumping of his hips, pistoning into Gemma's heated sex and belly while her juices continued to spray down. Her eyes widened, but she was held at his mercy and could do nothing to prevent his continued ravishing of her spasming body....or the rapid growth of a second climax building in her belly as his thrusts increased in power.

  From on deck, a faint wailing scream reached Gemma's ears and her own passion inched even higher as she heard Clarissa's surrender and knew that, both above and below decks, helpless, desperate slavegirls were being forced to submit utterly to ruthlessly dominant Masters!

  Buried deep in her belly, her Master grew even larger and she squealed in fear as he lunged to her very core, his rigid shaft beginning to throb and pulse as he neared his peak. His fingers squeezed her nipples, then tugged sharply at her rings and she shrieked in wonderful anguish as the tiny pain drove her over the edge into a stupendous orgasm, her internal muscles clamping like a vice around her Master's maleness and her belly exploding in coruscating pulses of ecstatic rapture! In response, he began to judder and jerk as his climax broke and Gemma screamed her abject, willing submission as his seed jetted into her belly and they came together.

  To her dismay, he slid from her immediately, "Very good, slavegirl. I shall be back later," and her eyes filled with tears as he left her to her bondage.

  But then, Gemma was a only slavegirl and her misery meant nothing to Masters!

  CHAPTER 14

  Gemma knelt on the teak deck of her Master's yacht, her head lowered submissively in the position ordered. For once, she was neither bound nor gagged, but her freedom, such as it was, was an illusion, for the yacht was at anchor in the shallow blue lagoon of a small, uninhabited island and there was nowhere for her to go even if she had dared to try to escape. She stole a glance to her left and met the downcast green eyes of Clarissa, the slim redhead kneeling as humbly and patiently as Gemma as the pair waited for their Masters to appear on the deck.

  "What do you think they're going to do with us?" Gemma whispered, her lips hardly moving.

  "No idea," Clarissa replied softly, "But you can bet it'll be awful. I don't know why, but they're being really tough on us."

  "Yes, I know," Gemma agreed feelingly, "As if it wasn't hard enough already. I wonder what...?" Both girls froze as their Masters came on deck and strode towards them, the three men relaxed and confident as they looked down at their naked captives.

  Head down, a shiver of anxious anticipation warmed Gemma's belly as bundles of leather straps and metal buckles were dropped casually in front of her and Clarissa.

  "Put them on and make quite sure they are tight. I shall be checking them personally."

  The order came from Clarissa's Master, Matthew and both slavegirls knew that he would take pleasure in punishing them if the gags were not uncomfortably tight enough to satisfy him.

  Gemma picked up the one of the evilly gleaming gag and opened her mouth wide to encompass the thick cylinder of hard leather, pressing it deep between her jaws to lodge firmly between her back teeth as her fingers threaded the steel buckle behind her neck and pulled the strap as tight as she could. Her cheeks bulged and her nostrils flared as she as she gagged herself with the thick rod, but she dared not disobey and consoled herself with the moist heat building between her thighs as she passed a split strap each side of her nose and over the crown of her head, buckling it equally tightly. A third strap, beneath her chin, forced her to bite down on the leather rod, completing her silencing and she dropped her hands to the small of her naked back to await the next command.

  A padlock clamped her wrist cuffs together and she shivered as Master Matthew's fingers tugged at her gag, the dominant male assuring himself that his captives had not attempted to win themselves the smallest laxity in their gag-harnesses.

  "Adequate," he said finally, a note of disappointment clear in his tone and Gemma allowed herself to relax fractionally, relieved that he had not been able to find a reason to inflict punishment on his slaves.

  "Don't sound so disappointed, Matthew," Master Nicos chuckled softly, "You'll get your chance. We all will, my friend. Just as soon as we get our little pigeons..our very quiet little pigeons..ashore."

  His low chuckle and the cruel laughter of his companions sent a tingle of fright racing through the two helpless slavegirls and as he snapped, "Up, slaves," Gemma and Clarissa rose hurriedly to their feet and arched their bodies in the graceful and absolute exposure of the Display position, their wide, anxious eyes filling with alarm as they saw that each of their three Masters carried a riding crop and what appeared to be a long-barrelled air pistol in their hands!

  "Oh, don't worry, slavegirls," he grinned at the terrified slaves, "These won't hurt you. You explain, Matthew. Put their minds at rest," and his grin grew wider.

  "Pay attention!" the older Master ordered and four frightened eyes stared in growing horror as he explained that the pistols were designed to fire balls of paint, each of a different colour, so that when a target was hit, the shooter could be identified.

  Which was all very well, until, to gag stifled groans from Gemma and Clarissa, he went on to explain that they were to be the targets!

  His eyes gleamed with a predatory menace as he heard the muffled and futile protests of his captive audience, then added the final twist to the slavegirls' misery.

  "Whoever shoots you," he sneered cruelly, "Gets to have you however they want! And in case you think you'll be able to run away or hide," he mocked, "You won't! The paint in these guns contains a derivative of the anaesthetic used for operations in hospitals. It won't knock you out, b
ut it will paralyse your limbs for about twenty minutes! It's quite safe and very, very effective."

  Gemma stared wildly at her grinning Master, then at the merciless faces surrounding her and felt her body begin to tremble uncontrollably as she realised the awful fate about to befall her.

  Hunted like animals, cornered and shot with the paralysing drug, she and Clarissa would be utterly helpless, their bodies unable to move, unable to escape, unable, even, to put up token resistance against their bonds!

  Clarissa squealed into her gag as her love-Master, Matthew, sent his crop hissing across her naked buttocks, then scurried to the side of the yacht and clambered awkwardly down into the inflatable motor boat bobbing alongside, her green eyes wide with pain and the shame of her enforced obedience.

  Ordered to follow, Gemma obeyed instantly, hoping to avoid Clarissa's punishment and sank to her knees, head down, as the Masters got into the boat and Master Nicos sent it speeding towards the gleaming white beach.