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Submissives of the Colonel

Page 14

by Charles Graham


  Mayhew staggered back a pace as if he had been struck, “You submitted as a slave to one of my officers?” he gasped. “Here, in my own Headquarters?”

  “Yes,” Arabella moaned. “Yes, yes, yes. I had to. He knew I had deceived you and what I had been f..forced to become. That I had changed and couldn’t help myself, and he made me o..obey as his slave even though I hate him. Please, Randolph, I didn’t want you to find out like this. I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you, but I didn’t know how to explain that I can’t c..control my b..body any more. Not since R..Razak and his m..men took me and wh..whipped me…” her voice trailed away in racking sobs, and she buried her face in her hands, unable to meet her husband’s eyes.

  In his years in India, Colonel Mayhew had seen and heard many incredible things, but none as shocking as his wife’s confession of her submission to the most abject slavery. He could hardly believe it; but, as he stared down at her terrible anguish and remembered Belinda's amazing story, he knew it must be true. He knew where his duty lay and what he must do.

  Arabella’s shame must never become public knowledge, for Razak was hugely popular in the region; and, if it became known that he had enslaved the wife of a British Army Colonel, it could be the catalyst to trigger an armed uprising that could grow to engulf all of India. He could not let that happen…would not let it happen.

  Arabella, like her friend Belinda, had to vanish, as if they had never existed. It was the hardest decision he had ever been called on to make, but he was an officer of Queen Victoria…and Randolph Mayhew straightened his shoulders and did what he had to do.

  With her head in her hands, sobbing in dreadful despair, Arabella never saw her husband remove the white lanyard that denoted his rank; but, as he seized her slim wrists and twisted them behind her back and lashed them together, she gasped in helpless excitement to the feel of his strong hands and the tight grip of the cord on her skin.

  “Randolph?” she protested weakly. “Wh..What are you doing? Why have you tied me? What are you going to d..do to me?”

  He stared sadly down into her wide brown eyes. “What I must, my dear,” he replied gently. “I cannot risk anyone finding out that you have been a slave.”

  “But…But…you have tied me up.”

  “Yes. I am afraid it is necessary because I cannot leave you free. It would be a disaster if Razak were to recapture you and exhibit you as the slave you told me yourself you cannot help but be.”

  Arabella shivered. “You…You’re going to keep me tied up?” she said wonderingly. “As a prisoner?”

  He nodded, “I have no choice.”

  She twisted her wrists in the tight cords; and then, to his absolute astonishment, she sank gracefully to her knees before him, spread her thighs, and arched her spine to present her body as Belinda had displayed herself earlier.

  “Then I submit willingly as your prisoner and your slave, my Master,” she said humbly. “Use me as you wish, and I will serve you well.”

  As he gazed down at her lovely face and saw the way the thin fabric of her dress outlined every curve of her kneeling body, Colonel Randolph Mayhew felt his maleness swell against his tight uniform trousers and realised that his difficult decision to hold his own wife captive had resulted in a totally unexpected and highly arousing outcome.

  Slowly, he gazed into her eyes. “Do you know what you are saying, my dear?” he asked her. “You truly wish to submit to me? As a slave?”

  Arabella smiled up at him. “I am a slave, my Master,” she replied quietly. “I can be nothing else.”

  He took a deep breath. “As you wish, Arabella. Then, as of this moment, you are no longer my wife, but my slave.”

  She nodded then said softly, “I was always your slave, my Master. I just did not know it before, but I know it now, and I beg for your touch, Master.”

  For a moment, he was shocked by her request, almost unable to believe that any woman…and an English woman, at that…would sink so low as to beg in such a shameful way. Then he remembered that she had been trained to please men in any way they commanded and realised that her desire to feel his hands on her body was the result of that training. Incredibly, Arabella really had become a slave…and he was her Master.

  His erection bulged massively and a thrilling sense of power set his brain racing as he began to appreciate just what it might mean to be the Master of a genuinely obedient and submissive slave. He reached down and, with a sharp jerk of his hands, ripped her dress apart, baring her to the waist and freeing her breasts.

  She gasped then pressed her lips together as he snapped, “Remain silent, slave. I have decided that you have no need for clothes,” and tore the remnants of her dress from her.

  Stripped by her Master, Arabella shivered in wild excitement as he subjected her naked figure to a detailed scrutiny; slave heat burning in her belly as she forced herself to remain still while he walked slowly around her.

  Standing behind her, he reached down over her shoulders to cup her breasts in his hands; and, as his fingers brushed her nipples, she moaned and leaned back against his muscular thighs, her eyes widening as delicious arousal shot through her body. Her nipples hardened instantly; and. as he saw the speed of her response and the longing in her eyes, Mayhew chuckled in delight.

  “I should have bound you as a slave before, my dear,” he smiled broadly. “I had no idea that you were so passionate. But now, before I take you, you will tell me exactly how you served Captain Adams.”

  Arabella froze; but, as his fingers and thumbs captured and rolled the stiff buds of her nipples and she jerked and gasped to his touch, the horribly embarrassed brunette was given no choice but to explain the humiliating details of her enforced submission to her blackmailer.

  At first, the Colonel was coldly furious at the scheming duplicity of his subordinate and the callous ruthlessness of his subjugation of Arabella; but, as he noted the signs of rapidly growing sexual arousal in her body and voice as she described how Adams had forced her to kneel before him, pledge her obedience, beg to be collared and chained, respond to his fingers and lips and whip, then finally submit in climax as a full and helpless slave, he found his attitude towards the devious Captain…and his attitude towards Arabella…undergoing a radical change.

  Arabella was clearly hugely aroused by her own story, her quivering breasts swollen and intensely sensitive to his touch, her belly rippling and fluttering sensuously to the power of her recollection of the total submission she had given; and, as he watched her exhibit the extent of her slavery and the awesome depth of her uncontrollable passion, Colonel Mayhew understood that she had been forced far beyond any hope of return to the life she had once known as his demure, modest, dutiful wife and could be nothing but a slave to strong and powerful Masters.

  He saw and accepted that now, as Adams must have seen it at Razak’s camp, and he knew he could hardly blame the younger officer for the decision he had made.

  Arabella was a lovely young woman; and, in her chains, naked and all too obviously sexually submissive to any determined Master, she must have presented an irresistible temptation.

  Had he been in Adams’ position, he knew he might well have made the same decision; and, as he admitted that fact to himself, Mayhew gave a wry chuckle. He would have to give Adams a sharp dressing-down, he decided…let him sweat for a while to teach him that he could not expect to deceive a senior officer with impunity…then let him off with a private reprimand and a warning never to risk such a dangerous course of action ever again.

  As for Arabella….well, she had made her bed, and she would just have to lie in it.

  His decision made, he acted upon it.

  “To the bed, slave,” he ordered brusquely. “On your back.”

  Arabella obeyed instantly, reacting to the snap of authority in his voice; and, as she threw herself onto the soft mattress and automatically spread her ankles wide in anticipation of being bound, her Master tore off his uniform and buried his straining maleness full
length in the slick, receptive heat of her gaping sex.

  All the anger and frustrations of the previous months were released in his overwhelming assault on Arabella’s aroused and wildly responsive nudity; and, as he took her with rapid, almost brutal thrusts, the hapless brunette screamed a welcome to her Master, and her belly convulsed with enormous power to send the scalding juices of her orgasm showering down over his massive, throbbing shaft as he plundered the innermost recesses of her body.

  Forbidden to speak, she could only stare pleadingly up at his hard face as he used her far more fully and far more ruthlessly than he had ever used her before; and, as she read his determination to impose his absolute Mastery on her in his glittering eyes, she whimpered and gasped in a mixture of ecstasy and fear, recognising that he intended to make her submit to him no less fully and no less deeply than she had been forced to surrender to Razak and Captain Adams.

  Knowing that she was being taken as a totally subjugated slave, she could not hold back the second orgasm that erupted into her belly; and, as renewed floods of bubbling juices sprayed down to bathe his pounding shaft, Arabella arched up to meet her Master, opening her thighs as widely as she could to offer herself completely to him. Her internal muscles contracted around his maleness, drawing him deeper into the swirling maelstrom of her belly; and, as his spend hosed into her body, Arabella screamed in delirious passion, and her body pulsed and writhed beneath his to the rapture of her first submission as the loving, willing slave of her new and thrillingly dominant Master.

  Panting from his exertions, Randolph Mayhew lay sprawled on top of his slave, revelling in the feel of her soft flesh against his and her whimpers of intense pleasure as spasms rippled through her belly to the power of the orgasms he had given her.

  For the first time in their married life together, Arabella had abandoned herself utterly to sheer physical lust, holding nothing back and discarding all pretence of the modesty and virtuous reserve that all well brought-up English women were supposed to possess. She had behaved as a slut…and Mayhew had enjoyed every moment of it, his passion inflamed by her frenzied responses as he had used her exactly how he pleased…as the slave she had declared herself to be. Sated for the moment, he slid from her belly and dressed himself then gazed down at her huddled, trembling body.

  “On your feet, slave,” he ordered. “I have arrangements to make for your…safe keeping.”

  Arabella rolled from the disordered bed and stood before him, her naked body beaded with sweat, legs spread and shoulders pulled back in the display position of a slave.

  ”May I speak, Master?” she asked humbly; and, when he nodded, she said, “I love you, my Master, and am grateful that you used me so well. Did I please you, Master?”

  He chuckled, “Oh yes, slave. Very much.”

  “Then your slave is happy, Master. I will try always to be pleasing, my Master, but if I am not…” she hesitated then hurried on, her cheeks reddening, “if I am not, then I will d..deserve to be punished, won’t I, Master?”

  He reached out and took her chin in his hand, seeing the excited gleam in her eyes as he pretended to be considering the idea she had raised.

  Then he nodded firmly, knowing the answer she wanted to hear. “Naturally, slave. If one of my soldiers disobeys, I punish him. You are no different, as you will soon find out if you disobey or fail to please me in any way. Now be silent. It is time we rejoined your friend and decided what to do with both of you. Come with me.”

  From the moment her husband had burst, unannounced, into her room, Arabella had not given Belinda a single thought, too preoccupied with her own problems to even consider what might be happening to the blonde; but, as she followed her husband through the house, her mind raced at bewildering speed.

  Belinda had been a slave, but was now free, while she, who had been free..at least some of the time..had submitted to Randolph and was now his slave. Did the blonde think that Arabella had deliberately left her with Razak? She wouldn’t know that she had been blackmailed by Adams and had had no choice.

  It was quite clear that Randolph was going to keep her imprisoned so that word of her enslavement by Razak didn’t leak out, but Belinda had also been Razak’s captive and for even longer than Arabella. So how could Randolph be sure that Belinda’s captivity would remain a secret?

  The blonde had come to India to marry Captain Adams, but she would hardly still want to do that after Adams’ betrayal of her. Perhaps Randolph meant to ship Belinda back to England? And what about Adams and Ranee?

  Even owning a slave was a court martial offence for a British officer, let alone what he had done to Arabella…although that could never be made public, of course, for the same reason that she was going to be held prisoner by Randolph.

  Surely, though, Randolph would punish Adams somehow? If he did, though, Adams might retaliate by telling what he knew about Belinda and herself, something too humiliating and dreadful to contemplate.

  Or what if Belinda insisted that Adams be arrested and punished for his treachery?

  There would be a court martial, and Arabella would have to give evidence of his subjugation of her. She might even have to explain why she had submitted and what he and Ranee had done to her while she was chained and naked and helpless.

  The tangle of questions and doubts and fears whirled round and round in Arabella’s brain, getting nowhere, until she forced herself to stop thinking and worrying about them.

  At least she was safe from Razak and Adams, if not from her own unexpectedly demanding husband…..but that was something she was more than willing to accept. One way or another, she told herself firmly, Randolph would sort it all out and come up with an answer.

  Unfortunately for her…and Belinda…she was completely unaware that he already had.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mistakenly assuming that Belinda would already have been set free and taken to one of the guests’ quarters, Arabella was totally unprepared to find her friend naked and still helplessly bound, a riding crop clamped between her teeth, kneeling in the display position of a slave at the feet of Sergeant Chaudry. Nor was that all, for to Arabella’s slave trained gaze, it was perfectly obvious that the blonde was highly aroused, her breasts and nipples swollen and erect, and her blue eyes filled with a need that was all too familiar to Arabella herself.

  In the split second before Chaudry snapped to attention in the presence of his Commanding Officer, his dark eyes swept over Arabella’s body and a red flush stained her cheeks, for she knew, in that brief instant, that the Indian Sergeant had recognised that her status had changed from Colonel’s wife to humble slave. No longer a Memsahib, to be pampered and respected, but a slave to be commanded and used, and Arabella gulped, acutely conscious that Chaudry had served with her husband since before she had married him and was more of a friend to Randolph than simply a servant or aide.

  One of his privileges was to live in the house rather than in the Sergeants’ Mess; and, as she realised that he would almost certainly be given responsibility for keeping her securely imprisoned and incommunicado, her belly shivered with fearful excitement at the thought that he would have ample opportunity to be alone with her.

  “Over there, slave,” her Master ordered, pointing to Belinda. “Kneel beside your friend until I decide what to do with you.”

  Arabella almost refused, protests hovering on her lips, but the habit of obedience was deeply ingrained in her and she had submitted to him of her own free will.

  Keeping her eyes averted from Chaudry, she hurried over and knelt alongside Belinda, wishing that she not been commanded to remain silent so that she could explain her submission to the blonde and ask her forgiveness for leaving her with Razak.

  On her knees, she stole a glance sideways; and, as she saw the brand burned into Belinda’s hip and the barbaric gold ring dangling from her pierced nose, she shuddered in sympathy and horrified fascination at the cruelty of Masters who would force a slave to carry such incredibly humiliating an
d appallingly erotic adornments on her body. Only a monster like Razak would do such a thing, and she thanked her lucky stars that she had been rescued before she had suffered the same indignity as Belinda….. at least Randolph was a gentleman and would certainly never inflict anything like that on her…..

  Mayhew turned to his Sergeant. “I am afraid we now have two problems, Sergeant,” he began. “As you see, my wife also has the same..ah..tendencies as her friend. This presents an unacceptable risk to good order and discipline, so it will be necessary to..ah..detain her, too.”

  Chaudry nodded, “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

  “Good man. The cellars, I thought.”

  “Ideal, sir. Secure and quiet. Do you wish to take them both down there now, sir?”

  “That would be best, I think. You take Miss Wallace, and I will bring my wife in a few minutes. And by the way, Sergeant,” he smiled, “I particularly like the whip-gag you’ve used on her. It’s simple, efficient, and most suitable….for a slave. I shall try it myself in a few moments.”

  Chaudry smiled back, “Yes, sir. I understand perfectly, sir.” It was clear to both kneeling slaves that he did.

  He pulled Belinda to her feet; and, as the blonde whimpered, he marched her from the room.

  Mayhew chuckled and took his riding crop from his belt. “Chaudry is an excellent soldier,” he told Arabella cheerfully. “Trustworthy, reliable, and very, very thorough. He will guard you with his life. But I’m afraid he does have one small failing, as I’m sure you noticed. He just can’t keep his hands off women. But then, what man can, and who could blame him when he has two such delightful slaves in his charge?”

  Arabella gaped up at her grinning Master and slave heat swirled in her belly as he nodded, “Oh yes, my dear. Chaudry will be your jailer, and I am quite sure you understand what his reward for such arduous duties will be, don’t you?”

 

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