“Well now, slave,” he sneered, “not quite what you hoped for, eh? As if that matters. You have had your fun with the two white bitches, but now it is my turn. I think a little whip-orgasm should prepare you to serve the Prince like the hot slut we both know you are.”
His whip hissed down to brand her buttocks and thighs with stinging lines of fire; and, as Ranee clenched her teeth on the leather between her lips to stifle her squeals, Bohar skilfully mixed her pain with irresistible pleasure as his whip punished her and then slid between her legs to send massive arousal shooting up into her belly until she whimpered in need and the braided leather handle of his whip darkened with the stains of her body’s enforced passion.
Without a single touch of his hand, Ranee submitted utterly; and, as her belly pulsed with massive power and her juices sprayed over the whip thrust deep into her sex, she gave a low wail of despairing surrender, her climax that of a ruthlessly disciplined slave to the whip of her absolutely dominant Master. A slave who understood and feared that Bohar might only be the first Master to take advantage of the obedience Prince Razak had ordered her to give and that, even when she finally reached Razak’s tent, it would be only the start of the service and submission she would be forced to provide…….
Back in the main body of the tent, the two warriors who had begun Arabella’s long evening of torment and humiliation, stood looking down at the stained, trembling body of the tightly gagged and helplessly displayed brunette.
Using the toe of his riding boot, one rolled her over to her belly and freed her ankles while the other bent to knot his hand in her hair and pulled her to her feet, holding her bent with her head at his waist.
“With your permission, my Prince…?”
Razak waved his hand and the two men strode away, Arabella gasping and wincing as she stumbled in their wake, unable to straighten her body or resist as she was led from the tent.
In her belly, slave heat burned with a bright flame, growing steadily hotter as she was forced to follow her Masters, for Arabella knew she was to be taken by both men and must strive to be a fully pleasing slave. It was her only hope; and, as she felt her breasts begin to swell and her nipples stiffen as her body responded as it had been trained and conditioned to respond... it was also her deepest and most shameful desire; for, in the weeks since her capture, Arabella had become a full and willing slave to her own awakened passions and no longer knew how to be free.
Belinda’s submission to Ranee’s lips had been so intense that it had frightened her almost out of her wits. She had never even imagined being taken by another woman and had been horrified at the inferno Ranee had lit in her belly…an inferno that she had been unable to hide from the watching Masters. She had come as a slave and was ashamed but knew that she would come again, just as helplessly, if the humiliation was repeated.
Her training as a sex slave was complete, and she knew, with chilling certainty, that she would never be able to break free of the ingrained and appallingly enticing downward spiral of bondage, obedience, and ecstatic submission that she had come to love and fear and need since her enslavement. She could not…simply could not…resist the sheer, overwhelming rapture of total subjugation in the chains and collar and arms of a truly dominant Master; and, as she faced the almost unthinkable truth of the irrevocable changes in her body and brain, Belinda shuddered to great waves of submissive passion that rolled through her quivering belly.
When she was ransomed, she prayed that Philip would understand and forgive her, for in return for his love, she would willingly kneel before him as a slave and offer to give him pleasure such as he could never imagine, even accepting his chains with joy and submitting herself to his mastery without hesitation.
It would be wonderful, the end of her nightmare as Razak’s captive…and the beginning of a perfect dream life as the adoring wife and humble slave of the man she loved.
Belinda, though, had not yet been ransomed; and, as she felt strong hands roll her onto her side and release her ankles, she forced her mind back from its lovely fantasy to the reality of her situation.
Shamir stood over her and as he said, “The feast is over, slave.” She struggled to her knees and arched her spine to display her nude body to his cool gaze, knowing that he meant to use her as a full slave.
“Come with me,” he turned away without a backward glance, and Belinda hurried after him, keeping one pace behind and to the right of her Master’s broad shoulders as she had been trained, her belly coiling with delicious slave heat as she imagined that it was Philip walking confidently ahead of her, secure in the knowledge of her obedience and submission to his will. It was a thrilling picture, but of course, it would never happen.
Philip was a British officer and gentleman; and, as his wife, Belinda would once again be a lady. In public, at least…
The ransom for herself and Arabella had been demanded some two weeks ago and it could not be much longer before they were both free to join their partners.
Or so the collared blonde fondly believed.
Chapter Nine
April 26, 1876 – Two weeks later
Captain Philip Adams rode into the camp on his coal black charger, leading two spare horse behind him and, as the leader of his escort of Razak’s warriors signalled him to dismount, stared coldly around at the camp.
“Where are the English ladies I have come to ransom?” he asked stiffly. “It would be unwise of you to try my patience further.”
The warrior jumped down from his horse and sneered up at the tall, black haired soldier. “Your white women are safe enough,” he replied. “If you have the money, that is. My Prince is a man of his word. Come, I will take you to him.”
Captain Adams slid to the ground and followed the grinning warrior to a large tent, gripping the valise of rupees and ignoring the band of heavily armed cutthroats who surrounded him, fingering their weapons as if they would like to cut him to pieces. The leader threw open the tent flap and gestured him to enter; and, as he strode into the cool interior, he saw Arabella Mayhew…
At the side of Razak’s chair, her arms chained behind her back; and, with the heavy iron collar of her slavery about her slim throat, the brunette knelt in the shameful exposure of a slave’s display, her naked body arched and spread to reveal and offer every curve and hollow of her beauty to the eyes and touch of her Master. It was abundantly clear that Razak had not wasted his opportunity, for her breasts were swollen, her nipples fully erect; and, between her thighs, drops of silver juices beaded the dark curls of her pubic hair to betray her need and the submission she had all too evidently been forced to give.
As Adams strode forward, Arabella’s eyes bulged with horror, and she gave a gasp of dreadful humiliation as the officer witnessed her shame, but she dared make no other sound or attempt to cover her nudity, for she knew that to do so would earn her merciless punishment.
“Release her!” Adams snapped, his eyes icy, but Razak simply chuckled.
“Not yet, Captain,” he responded calmly. “Not until you hand over the ransom. Until then, this slave is mine, and I shall do with her as I choose.” He sent his left hand to the damp recesses of her spread sex, stroking the velvet softness of her labia.
Arabella whimpered as his fingers penetrated her and her breasts and belly trembled wildly as devastating arousal raged through her, but she was powerless to control her instant slave heat and her eyes filled with terrible despair as she was forced to display the depth of her enforced need.
Adams threw the bag of money to the floor. “Unhand the lady!” he snapped, but Razak only smiled. “Five thousand rupees, Captain,” he replied. “Count it out; and, when I am satisfied, you can have your Colonel’s lady. But not until then.”
The soldier’s eyes flashed angrily; but, as Arabella gazed pleadingly at him, he bent and began to pull bags of coins from the valise. While he counted, Razak toyed with the brunette; and, as her passion built to unbearable heights, she shuddered and gasped to the inferno of
lust that bubbled and seethed in her shuddering belly, shame and anguish adding to her torment as she responded helplessly to his ruthless touch.
“Five thousand,” Adams grated at last. “Take your hands off her.”
“Of course, Captain,” Razak chuckled. “I have no further use for this slave.” He then drove his fingers deep into Arabella’s belly to trigger her climax.
She screamed in misery and anguish but could not stop the waves of heated juices that erupted into her belly as she was hurled into her orgasm; and, as she pulsed and shuddered to the convulsions that shook her whole body, her eyes filled with tears of shame to the knowledge that she had surrendered as deeply as any slave. In front, not only of her Master, but of one of her husband’s officers.
Captain Adams stared down at her juddering body for long seconds, his eyes thoughtful as he watched the power of her orgasm, then he turned to Razak. “I want the keys to the chains and her clothes.”
Razak spread his hands and smiled coldly. “The chains come with the slave,” he said flatly. “And I keep my slaves naked. She is now your responsibility, Captain, not mine.”
“Very well,” Adams bent to help Arabella to her feet. “Come, Mrs Mayhew. I have horses waiting. You are safe now.” And he led her from the tent.
Arabella was too humiliated to speak; but, as he lifted her onto the second horse then took a blanket from his pack and wrapped it around her nakedness, she whispered, “Belinda, Captain. You have her ransom, too?”
He nodded. “I came here to ransom two slaves, madam. Wait here, I shall not be long.” He hurried back to Razak’s tent.
“You have a second captive, and I have a second ransom,” he said flatly. As Razak nodded, he added, “Here is the money. Take me to her.”
The Indian rose to his feet and led the way to a slightly smaller tent then turned to the tall Englishman and spoke softly, “I have heard that this woman once meant a great deal to you, Captain. Is that not so?”
Adams nodded. “Yes. But that was a long time ago. What has that to do with you?”
“Oh, nothing at all. I am simply curious as to why you would be prepared to pay such a fortune for someone who hurt you so badly?”
“My reasons are my own business, Razak. All you need to know is that I am prepared to pay it.”
Razak smiled. “Five thousand rupees is a great deal of money, Captain. Enough to buy you many true slaves to warm your bed and serve you in any way you command. You must know this; and, yet, you would throw it away on a woman who once treated you like a dog and may do so again. Truly, you English are a strange people.”
There was a long silence then Adams frowned. “I am an officer of the British Army,” he said slowly. “It is a matter of honour. The money means nothing.”
Razak nodded and smiled coldly. “I understand, Captain,” he said. “Then it is to be hoped that your woman will be suitably grateful for your sacrifice and will repay you with the skills she has learned while she has been here.”
“Skills?” Adams began, but Razak turned away and drew back the flap of the tent.
On a low bed in the middle of the tent, three naked figures were entwined. As Adams stared down, he saw Belinda with her wrists cuffed behind her, kneeling astride the chest of a muscular Indian warrior, her cheeks bulging and lips working busily at his groin, his mouth fastened on her gaping sex and his hands kneading her breasts while the third figure, a slender Indian girl, interspersed long, lascivious kisses of the blonde’s upraised and reddened bottom with casual flicks of a thin switch held in her right hand.
Taken completely aback, Adams could only gape dumbly at the sight of his ex-fiancée pleasuring…and receiving pleasure…in such a shocking and depraved manner.
Recovering as quickly as he could, his face flushed with anger. It was only as he demanded, “What is the meaning of this..this..disgraceful exhibition?” that Belinda became aware of his presence. With a convulsive twist of her body, she jerked her lips from the warrior’s thickened maleness; but, before she could even scream her terrified shame, Ranee sent the switch slashing across her unprotected buttocks, snapping, “You were not ordered to stop, slave.” The warrior seized her blonde hair and yanked her head back down to the joint of his muscular thighs, gagging her with his rigid flesh as his shaft plunged back into her mouth.
Unable to rise from her knees or speak, Belinda could not even attempt to explain or excuse her dreadful situation. The switch seared her naked bottom again, and Ranee hissed, “Serve your Master, you white slut.” The blonde whimpered in terrible anguish and fear, her lips and tongue sucking at the warrior’s maleness in a desperate effort to avoid further punishment.
“I demand to know what is going on here,” the tall Captain turned to Razak. “How dare you treat an Englishwoman like that? Release her this instant!”
“All in good time, Captain,” Razak retorted. “I have not yet accepted her ransom from you; and, until I do, she is still a slave, and I do not see why my loyal warrior should be deprived of his pleasure until she has completed her task. So you will have to be patient a little longer.”
Adams’s lips compressed into a thin line of fury, but he was alone in the camp of his enemies and knew he could do nothing to save Belinda from her humiliation. Biting back the angry words that rose to his lips, he stood, white-faced, watching his ex-fiancée’s shameful subjugation….but as he watched, he could not help but become aware of his own sexual arousal as the blonde was made to pleasure her captor.
Sobbing in despair and pain, her body helplessly responsive to the hands and lips at her breasts and sex, Belinda wept as she was given no choice but to lick and suck the warrior’s bulging shaft until it shuddered and pulsed in her soft mouth and hot jets of his spend shot into her throat as he came, forcing her to swallow or choke, and her humiliation was complete as she had to gulp down every drop of his seed.
Adams was astonished by the sight then was even more astounded as Ranee struck forehand and backhand with the switch then thrust her extended fingers into the oozing sex of the blonde. With her mouth still pressed tightly to the warrior’s groin, Belinda gave a muffled shriek, and her hips gyrated madly as she tried to impale herself even more deeply on the fingers of the Indian girl, her body spasming and shuddering to an instantaneous orgasm as massive gouts of scalding juices swamped into her belly and the warrior lapped at the silver fluid that trickled from her sex as she surrendered to the unleashed frenzy of a slave’s climax.
“I would not have believed it,” Adams gasped. “I had no idea…”
His voice trailed off, and Razak chuckled, “It is nothing,” he smiled. “She has just begun to learn to serve as a slave and would have become far more exciting if you had not come to ransom her, Captain.”
On the low bed, Belinda moaned and trembled as her orgasm ran its course; and, as Ranee removed her fingers and the warrior pushed her over onto her side, the shattered blonde stared pleadingly up at the two men discussing her, too ashamed and frightened to move or speak.
“But…But how? Why? How can it be?” the soldier asked, shaking his head…and Razak chuckled again.
“It is quite simple, Captain. She wears a slave’s collar and must please her Masters in any way they command. Had you not ransomed her, I would have taught her to please men fully then sold her. She knows this and knows, too, that if she fails to be completely satisfactory, she will be whipped.”
“You have whipped her?” Adams asked softly, and Razak nodded.
“Of course,” he replied. “I do not think she had felt a whip before, but she knows it now and has learned to obey without question. As you have seen.”
“Yes,” Adams agreed slowly. “Indeed I have. And the other girl? Is she also a slave?”
“Ranee is a fully trained slave, Captain. A delight in every way. Just as your woman would have been, if you had not come for her.”
Adams gazed at Belinda’s quivering nudity for a long, silent moment then switched his gaze to Ranee, w
ho, her hands now behind her back, knelt in the beautiful arch of a slave’s display, her breasts and belly presented to his eyes.
“What if I had not come for her?” Adams asked the question casually, but his eyes glittered.
Razak looked at him then shrugged, “Then she would still be a slave, and I would be five thousand rupees poorer.”
Belinda’s eyes widened as her ex-lover asked his question, and she felt an icy lump of nameless dread chill her belly as he gave a harsh laugh to Razak’s answer.
“Perhaps not,” the tall soldier grinned coldly. “Keep the money, and I will take her instead.” His gesture was towards Ranee.
Stunned by the dreadful words, Belinda’s jaw fell open, and she stared in disbelief at him, her brain simply refusing to accept the evidence of her ears It could not be true. Philip had to be joking….didn’t he? He couldn’t really mean to leave her with Razak….could he?
Frozen with shock, she stared wildly up at the two men; but, as a slow grin twisted Razak’s thin lips and he reached out to take the valise Philip held out to him, she heard the Indian slave Master laugh, “Very well, Captain, you have a deal.”
The words broke the paralysis that held Belinda in its grip, and she gave a scream of pure terror, struggling to her knees, her eyes almost bulging from their sockets as she squealed, “No! For pity’s sake, no, Philip! You can’t leave me here! Please, Philip, please.”
Razak frowned and snapped, “Bind my slave and silence her.” As Belinda shrieked and begged her ex-lover to save her, the muscular warrior seized her, threw her to her belly on the bed, locked her ankle cuffs together, forced her legs up behind her in a straining hogtie, then took a length of cloth and packed it into her pleading mouth and used a second cloth to tie the gag in place.
Helplessly bound, the blonde screamed wordless pleas for mercy, her eyes fixed on Philip’s as he stared down at her; and, as she saw the cold smile of satisfaction on his face, she shivered with a terrible dread.
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