An hour passed, then Master Steven returned, chuckling as he saw the two slavegirls nestled cheek to cheek.
He bent to Gemma, "Thank you, slavegirl," he said softly, "For looking after my little slave while I was away. And, of course, for your demonstration. I'm sure Helen would like to thank you, but as she can't, I will," and his hands went to Gemma's defenceless breasts, caressing her nipples to quivering rigidity and chuckling as the bells attached to her rings tinkled prettily.
He transferred his gaze from Gemma's breasts to Helen's and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm, I must say that I really like your bells, Gemma. I think I shall have to have a talk with Lydia. Would you like that, eh, Helen? How do you fancy being pierced and belled, just like Gemma?"
Helen's wide, pleading eyes and shrill squeal made it perfectly plain just how much she did not like the idea...and her realisation that if he wished to have her pierced and ringed, then that was exactly what would be done to her.
He nodded sharply, "Yes, I rather think I will," and Helen closed her eyes, trembling as a Master, her Master, made his decision. A decision which would have major and permanent consequences for her, but in which she had no say.
He released Helen's ankles and lifted her to her feet, gripping her elbow as he gave a cheery wave to Gemma, "Good luck, slave. No doubt we shall meet again," and then he marched his lovely captive to the door and was gone, leaving Gemma hopelessly aroused with no chance of satisfaction.
A situation she became unhappily very familiar with over the next two days as Axel and Lydia combined their amusement with her disciplining by mixing frequent arousal of her bound nudity with still more frequent punishment, until Gemma despaired of ever satisfying their demands for perfection in her obedience and submission and feared that she would never again be allowed to quench the burning heat constantly bubbling in her belly.
Until the moment Mistress Lydia came to her and informed Gemma that she had a visitor who wished to check on the progress of her re-training and might, just might, want to use her for his pleasure.
Helpless prey to the furious need so carefully nurtured in her, Gemma could not control the immediate moistening of her groin and tell-tale hardening of her nipples as her body responded to the prospect of long awaited release and her face reddened as Mistress Lydia spotted the unmistakable signals of her desire and chuckled coldly.
"Randy little slave," the dominant sneered, "You really want it, don't you? Well then, perhaps if you display your delicious little body sexily enough, maybe you might get what you want."
Gemma nodded urgently, beyond shame, her whole body consumed with passion and overwhelming lust, no longer caring what she had to do to get what she must have, or even who the visitor might be.
It was enough that he held the power to extinguish the flames of her enforced need.
As Mistress Lydia gave a cruel laugh and went to the door of the cell, Gemma sat back on her heels and spread her thighs as wide as she could, then arched her spine backwards until her head touched the floor behind her.
Displayed in the most vulnerable exposure possible...and of her own volition...Gemma offered the entire sweetly curved bow of her body to a Master, her throat, breasts, belly, sex all presented in the most humble, sensual and ultimately submissive exhibition of her slavery it was in her power to make.
As she awaited the arrival of her Master, Gemma shivered with anticipation and anxiety, intensely aware of warm currents of air caressing the taut flesh of her breasts and belly and of the slow ooze of her own love juices from the wet-slick pinkness of her sex.
She could do no more and knew she must endure the awful uncertainty until a Master, as always, made the decision as to her fate.
Heavy masculine footsteps entered the room and the bells at Gemma's ringed nipples tinkled musically as she was subjected to a long, silent scrutiny, her already blisteringly hot arousal zooming higher as the Master savoured her proffered nudity, no doubt fully understanding the intensity of the desire which had forced her to abase herself before him.
He moved closer and Gemma gulped as she saw that he, just like her other Masters, wore a hood which concealed his features.
From her lowly position, arched beautifully at his feet, he seemed to tower over her she could tell only that he was quite tall and of medium build, but other than that, he could have been any of her Masters, Steven, Nicos, Matthew, or even Roxwell.
She simply couldn't tell and shivered sensually, wondering which of them it was...but then her eyes widened to another horrifyingly exciting possibility. What if it wasn't any of them? What if it was a stranger, brought in to put her to the ultimate test of her re-training and obedience?
That of submitting herself fully, and willingly, to a man she did not even know, simply because it was the will of her Masters that she should?
Gemma's brain raced wildly, but then he stooped between her gaping thighs and his fingers caressed the swollen lips of her engorged sex.
Instantly, all thoughts, all fears, were submerged in a tornado of frenzied lust as incandescent arousal stormed through Gemma's displayed nudity, driving out every vestige of reason to leave her squealing breathily, her body shuddering in intense need, only able to respond helplessly to the ecstatic rapture created by his hands on, and in, her.
A first tremendous orgasm exploded into her belly, drowning her in overwhelming physical pleasure and she clenched her teeth, fighting to hold her self imposed position as scalding billows of love juices flooded into her sex and over his probing, devastating fingers.
Lost in the fury of her immediate surrender, Gemma whimpered piteously as his fingers left her, then whimpered again as they slid between her parted lips and she tasted the salt tang of her own body's outpourings.
Out of control, she sucked and lapped at the slick wetness coating his fingers, deliciously aware of the exquisitely submissive implications of her action, but not caring what it betrayed about her or her passions.
One hand returned to her belly, igniting further fires within her, while the other tore at his clothing, his efforts urged on by Gemma's wordless cries, until he was ready to have her.
His hands seized her buttocks, raising her, and she screamed in delirious welcome as his rigid, iron hard member speared to the core of her belly, penetrating and filling her with the strength and power of his masculinity, her body pinned helplessly beneath his weight.
Quivering to each massive thrust as he took her ruthlessly, Gemma's belly spasmed again and again as continuous orgasms crashed through her, the pulsing of her climaxes driving him on to greater and greater exertions until both he and she were bathed in sweat and gasping for breath as he forced her to submit unconditionally to his Mastery.
His fingers dug into Gemma's buttocks as he gathered himself for the final time and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as he reached his peak, to send powerful foaming jets of his seed spurting into the seething maelstrom of her convulsing belly.
Gemma's spine arched in unbearable ecstasy, her internal muscles clamping vice-like around his pumping shaft as yet another climax broke over her and she writhed madly beneath his hard, muscular body in the throes of her red hot passion, grinding her pelvis against his to extract the last milligram of ultimate pleasure from their shared release.
Exhausted, she collapsed bonelessly in the aftermath of her immense orgasms and lay panting as mini-explosions continued to rack and shake her body until, after a long, unknown time, the convulsions began to ease.
The man, without question her Master, pulled from her limp body and she gazed up at him humbly, understanding just how totally he had dominated her and replaying in her mind's eye the sheer ecstasy of her surrender to his irresistible male strength and the thrilling ruthlessness of his ravaging of her defenceless flesh.
Fully dressed, he prodded her hip with the toe of his shoe and Gemma rolled over onto her belly, ashamed to find herself feeling renewed arousal at his arrogant assumption of her unquestioning obedience...and e
ven more ashamed of her own submissive acceptance of his casual authority.
As her ankle cuffs were locked together, Gemma shivered to the realisation that her re-training had succeeded only too well.
Far too well for her peace of mind, for her belly coiled with delicious liquid heat and she knew that the merest touch of a Master's hand would be enough..more than enough..to send her spinning back into a vortex of lust and sexual arousal and masochistic subjugation as the fiercely hot, helplessly responsive slavegirl she was trained and disciplined to be.
And which Gemma knew, despite all logic, all common sense, all caution and reason, was what, in her heart of hearts, she longed to be!
CHAPTER 16
Ten days had passed since Gemma's re-training, but she had forgotten nothing of the lessons she had been taught so forcibly and remembered vividly the stinging bite of Devil's Palms on her cowering flesh and the absolute obedience demanded of her.
Nor had the memories of her enforced pleasuring of the Masters and her Mistress faded from her mind and those recollections invariably brought a warm, moist glow to her sex and a tinge of pink to her cheeks as she remembered how completely she had been made to surrender. Particularly to unknown Master whose almost-savage plundering of her body had made Gemma face the reality of her enslavement and the soaring, irreplaceable pleasure her subjugation freed her to enjoy.
Sealed inside a transport crate, Gemma had been taken from wherever she had been re-trained, to Roxwell's country mansion and the familiar surroundings of his underground slave quarters, where, from the moment of her release from the crate, she put her whole being to the task of being the perfect slavegirl.
There was no way she dared risk being found unsatisfactory a second time and the mere thought of being sent back for another round of discipline at the hands of Master Axel and Mistress Lydia set her trembling and sweating with dread.
Roxwell's unconcealed delight at her obedience and eagerness to please was hugely embarrassing to her, but her embarrassment was a far better and much less painful option than the alternative and Gemma had little difficulty in convincing herself to play her part.
Especially knowing that, at the very least, any failure to do so would bring inevitable retribution from Roxwell.
Leashed to an iron ring set into the floor beneath her bed by a steel chain locked to her collar, Gemma leapt to her feet as bolts rattled at the door to her cell and by the time it swung open, she stood motionless in the pose Roxwell preferred and had ordered her to assume when in his presence.
Standing upright, legs widely spread, her spine hollowed to present her breasts and belly to best advantage, her fingers interlaced behind her neck and with her head tilted back, her eyes looked up at the ceiling from between her bent elbows framing her face.
In this position, as Gemma knew from experience, she was beautifully displayed to his gaze, but quite unable to see him until he was very close in front of her.
It made her very vulnerable to any caress he chose to award her and, not by any means for the first time, the tiny bells at her ringed nipples tinkled softly as the firm globes of her breasts quivered in anticipation of his touch.
Her toes curled and she gulped anxiously as a thin, cool and all too recognisable presence made itself felt between her thighs.
Roxwell's crop!
The flexible leather covered cane slid between her labia, tracing delicately up and down the length of her defenceless sex and Gemma gritted her teeth, fighting to maintain her pose and avoid the penalty that any movement would bring down on her.
It was a battle that Gemma must, eventually, lose and she knew that if he persisted with the arousal for any length of time, she would be unable to control her ingrained responses. She just hoped that he wasn't in a playful mood, because if he was, the stimulation would probably continue until she surrendered and clamped the crop between her thighs in her efforts to satisfy the desires it created in her.
And that would be more than enough to earn her a punishment!
The crop tapped firmly against the exquisitely sensitive bud of her clitoris and Gemma snorted aloud, almost giving in to the temptation to bend forward and trap the tormenting cane, but just managing, by an almost superhuman effort, to stay in position.
"Very good, slavegirl," Roxwell's tone was half mocking, half admiring, "Excellently disciplined, I'm glad to see. Just as you should be. All right, you can relax for now."
Gemma eased her stretched muscles and lowered her wrists to the small of her back, crossing them and waiting passively to be bound, but Roxwell didn't bother, content that the leash was more than adequate to hold her.
His confidence was fully justified, of course and they both knew it, so Gemma made no effort to escape and waited for his orders.
He smiled at her and Gemma swallowed nervously, not knowing what was coming.
"Do you have any idea how long you've been a slavegirl?" he asked calmly.
Gemma stared at him, "No, Master," she replied at last, "I know it seems like a long time, but no, I don't know how long."
Roxwell chuckled, "Yes, I expect it does seem like a long time, slavegirl," he said, "You have come a very long way since I first saw you in bondage in the back of that van, haven't you?"
Gemma felt her face redden, the memory of that meeting vivid in her brain.
The first time that she, naked, gagged and tightly bound, had learned that she was to become a slave and that he, Roxwell, was to be her Master.
Shakily, she whispered that she did remember and Roxwell nodded.
"That was almost a year ago," he said slowly and watched the expressions chasing across Gemma's face.
"Mm, that's right," he continued, "My contract with your business partner, Mr Bowyer, is almost up. In fact, it expires tomorrow."
Her jaw dropped and she gaped foolishly at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. "T...Tomorrow?"
"Yes, slavegirl, tomorrow. Less than twenty four hours. Less than twelve, actually."
"But...You mean...You mean that I'm..I'm free? This isn't a trick, or..or..? You mean it?"
"Of course. The contract expires at midnight and I told you that first day that a deal is a deal. Your partner and I agreed that you would become my slave for a year, in return for a financial investment. The year is now nearly over and as far as I am concerned, at one second past midnight, so is the contract."
Gemma's disbelief evaporated as he spoke and her spirits zoomed skyward as she finally accepted that he really meant what he said and that her time as a slave was nearly over.
Then, oddly, her face fell and her elation vanished as if it had never been, as she understood what that meant.
For a whole year, she had been constantly subject to the will of others, with no freedom, no responsibility, no decisions to make, no concerns other than to obey and be pleasing to her Masters. Everything taken care of for her. Her simple wants catered for.
Now, suddenly, she was faced with the prospect of returning to the outside world. A world with demands and responsibilities and decisions she was no longer sure she was capable of dealing with.
Worse, a world which would never understand her submission to the dominance of others, never understand or accept the rewards, the sheer, overpowering ecstasy, of absolute and, eventually, willing subjugation.
An ordinary world, full of men and women who had never, would never, experience the shattering pleasure of a Master or Mistress's hands and lips on their bodies. Never know what it was to climax helplessly at the bidding of an all powerful Master, or feel the thrill of steel on their nude flesh as he, or she, bound them into submission to receive the pleasure or punishment to be imposed upon them.
Roxwell saw the torment on her face and spoke softly, "What is it, slavegirl? Why so troubled?"
Gemma stared miserably at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, "I..I..don't know if I can, Master. Be free again, that is. I thought I could, but now....I just don't know. I wear a slave's collar and..and
cuffs on my limbs and r..r..rings in my n..nipples and I've been tr..trained to resp..respond as a slavegirl to Masters. What if...people find out?" Gemma whispered sadly, "I don't know if I can even remember h..how to be free," and her shoulders shook with her shame and despair.
For a long time there was silence in the room, then Gemma sniffed and raised her reddened eyes to her Master and gave a weak smile, "May I ask you a question, Master."
Roxwell nodded gravely.
"Was I a good slavegirl, Master?"
"That is the sort of question only a true slave would ask," he replied severely.
Gemma flushed, "Yes, my Master, I know. But...But was I, Master?"
He stared hard at her until she lowered her head submissively, then answered, "You were a satisfactory slave," he told her harshly, then added, "And sometimes, you were a superb slavegirl."
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