Submissives of the Colonel

by Charles Graham

  In little more than moments, Arabella’s temporary bonds were replaced with hard, obdurate iron; and, as he clamped the slave collar around her slender throat as she knelt before him, Colonel Mayhew set the final seal on her fate.

  “This slave is no longer mine alone,” he said coldly. “She belongs to us all and will serve us all. Use her exactly as you desire, my friends, for she is simply a slave, like her companions, and she has no claim to be treated any differently.”

  His words left no room for doubt; and, as Adams and Chaudry nodded their understanding and agreement, Arabella shuddered in despair and helpless arousal as her body prepared itself for the inevitable result of her renewed enslavement.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ignoring Arabella’s evident distress, Mayhew went to Ranee. “Up, slave,” then seized her slim body in his muscular right arm and crushed her lips beneath his, exploring her mouth with his darting tongue as his left hand squeezed her breast and rolled her sensitive nipple to immediate erection then pushed her thighs apart and invaded the damp recesses of her sex, his fingers plundering her with callous authority.

  Gasping for breath, her slave trained body responding instantly to the arrogant touch of a Master. The tall Indian girl writhed sensually in his arms, her breasts and hips and belly molding themselves to his torso, rubbing her naked flesh against him in a display of eroticism that quickly awakened his lust and built a massive bulge at the joint of his thighs.

  Spinning her around, he sent his right hand to her breasts while his left continued to caress her labia and clitoris; and, as she panted and gasped to the intense need his fingers aroused in her, her own fingers worked at the buttons of his breeches until she was able to free his straining erection and guide it to the entrance of her wet sex.

  With a hoarse grunt of pleasure, Mayhew bent her forward and thrust deep into her receptive cleft, her shrill squeals ringing around the cellar as his bulging shaft sank into her belly and the heated juices of her first climax spewed down over his rigid flesh as she surrendered to his ruthless ravaging of her body.

  Delighting in the intensity and speed of her submission, Mayhew redoubled his efforts; and, as her belly convulsed again and again to the frenzy of enforced passion his lunging maleness brought from her, Ranee screamed her willing desire to submit utterly and her sex ran with the flooding juices of her ecstasy as orgasms of shattering power crashed through her shaking body as she was taken for the first time by her new Master.

  Sunk in the depths of despair by her husband’s cruel words, Arabella wept in anguish as he abandoned her and began to slake his lusts on Ranee, her shame and humiliation almost too much to bear as he scorned her in favor of the Indian slave girl.

  Until, as Captain Adams strolled across to where Belinda still stood helplessly bound to the pillar at her back, Chaudry positioned himself directly in front of Arabella and knotted his hand in her hair, arching her head back to force her to meet his glittering eyes as he grinned wolfishly down at her.

  “So, slave,” he hissed, too softly for either Adams or Mayhew to hear, “at last you have become the hot little slut that I knew you were the moment I set eyes on you. Oh, yes, slave,” he went on as Arabella’s brown eyes widened with fear, “the Colonel may not have noticed the mark of a collar on your throat when Captain Adams brought you back from Razak’s camp, but I did, and I understood at once what it meant. Razak is a slaver and any woman who has worn his collar can be nothing but a slave. A slave who is highly skilled in the art of pleasuring Masters.”

  He reached down to untie her gag then pulled the thick steel bar from between her jaws, “Those skills,” he ordered firmly, “you will now use to pleasure me with your mouth.”

  Arabella shuddered and licked her dry lips, wondering whether she dared try to refuse the shameful instruction; but, as Chaudry tightened his grip, he reminded her, “You have already been whipped once today, slave.” The hapless brunette realised that any attempt to defy the muscular Indian Master would be met with painful punishment.

  She was a slave and could expect no mercy if she disobeyed…..even her own husband would not lift a finger to save her….and, as she faced the reality of her absolute subjugation to the three dominant Masters who owned her, Arabella crushed back her humiliation and fear and gulped, “Yes, M..Master. I will o..obey, Master.”

  Chaudry grinned cruelly as she surrendered to his will then released her hair and unbuttoned his trousers to release his thick but only partially-erect maleness.

  “You will have to work hard, slut,” he told her cruelly. “Belinda served me well; but, if you have been trained as thoroughly as I believe you have, the task should not be beyond your skills.” He paused to give a mirthless chuckle then added, “It had better not be, slave, for it would be a bad mistake to fail to satisfy me fully.”

  He left the threat hanging; but, with her belly and thighs still smarting from the cropping administered to her by her husband, Arabella understood the warning only too well.

  With a soft moan of anguish, she lowered her mouth to his groin; and, as her lips met his flesh, she began to kiss and lick and run her tongue along the full length of his shaft, employing every trick and technique she had learned during her long, arduous, and frequently painful slave-training in Razak’s camp.

  Slowly…far too slowly to spare Arabella’s shame…Chaudry’s shaft began to stiffen and lengthen in response to her efforts; and, as it did so, he reached down and clamped his fingers on the back of her head, pulling her forward and giving her no option but to accept his resurgent member into the warm, moist cavern of her soft mouth.

  With her wrists locked behind her back and efficiently gagged by the swelling flesh of her Master, Arabella was entirely at Chaudry’s mercy. As he began to pump his hips back and forward in a slow, steady rhythm, her stretched lips alternately clamped tight and then loosened around him and her cheeks hollowed and bulged as she instinctively matched her responses to the demands made upon her.

  Above her bowed head, Chaudry grinned and nodded to himself as he savoured the exquisite pleasures of her skilled mouth and the equally delightful knowledge of her unquestioning obedience. He had imagined that she would have at least tried to protest or resist him in some way; but, at the first hint of a threatened punishment, she had capitulated immediately, her surrender providing undeniable proof that she was, indeed, the fully submissive slave that he had suspected her to be.

  As her Master…and the Master of Belinda and Ranee as well…a whole world of sexual possibilities was now his to explore and enjoy; and, as his brain ranged over the erotic combinations for himself and three collared slaves, his erection grew still larger and his lust intensified. His thrusts into her mouth grew in speed and power as he built towards his release, and Arabella whimpered as he began to use her fully.

  Despite her discomfort and shame, she could not overcome her slave trained passions or her submissive nature. As his shaft pounded into her mouth and throat, her own desire to be totally and helplessly subjugated by a cruelly dominant Master ignited a raging inferno in her belly, and she sucked desperately at his engorged flesh, her shame and humiliation overwhelmed and forgotten in the scorching fury of her need and the waves of devastating arousal that rolled through her body as she struggled to please and satisfy the Master who ravaged her with such thrilling ruthlessness and forced her to display the full extent of her slavery.

  Captain Philip Adams stood in front of Belinda and his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he surveyed her naked, tightly bound body, enjoying the scarlet flush that stained her gagged cheeks as he drank in the lewd exposure of her out-thrust breasts, hugely spread thighs, and damp, silvery tendrils of love juices that stained her belly from the multiple orgasms imposed on her by Chaudry. His hand reached out to trace the outline of the brand burned into her left thigh; and, as she felt his touch, the small blonde trembled wildly and gave a muffled gasp, her eyes wide with dreadful longing as the casual caress sparked instant slave hea
t in her belly.

  She could not help herself, for weeks of intensive training by Razak and his men had conditioned her to respond exactly as she had, and she was no longer able to control the need that simmered constantly in her body, requiring only a single touch to fan the flame of her passion into a blaze that could only be extinguished…and then only temporarily…by the jets of a Master’s seed.

  Betrayed by her own body, Belinda could be nothing but a slave, the brand at her hip and the gold ring dangling from her nose merely the visible symbols of her captivity; and, as Adams saw the unspoken pleading of her eyes and the fluttering of her belly, he understood that his ex-fiancée had travelled so far along the path to permanent and irrevocable slavery that she was now unable to turn back even if she wanted to or was ever given the freedom to try. Thanks in no small measure to his decision to leave her unransomed as Razak’s prisoner, she would spend the rest of her life as a collared bondage- and sex-slave, serving any man rich enough to buy her or cunning enough to steal her from her owner.

  His revenge was complete and very, very sweet; and, as he looked down into her face and read the helpless desire mirrored in her wide blue eyes, his groin bulged and throbbed against his uniform trousers to the knowledge that, if he untied her, she would undoubtedly fall to her knees before him and beg to be allowed to please him as a slave. Exactly as Ranee and Arabella had begged so often since he had ransomed them both from Razak.

  Unlike them, however, Belinda owed him a personal debt for refusing his offer of marriage and the scar of that humiliation still hurt, even though seeing her enslaved had done much to heal the wound. Much…but not enough…and, as he gazed upon her, his lips curved into a cold, predatory smile. “Well, well, Belinda,” he said mockingly. “Fancy meeting you again. And in such delightful surroundings, too. Did you choose the décor yourself? It suits you so well, my sweet; and, as for your brand and your collar and that pretty little ring through your nose, I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

  The instant she heard the scathing tone of his voice, Belinda’s eyes filled with dismay.

  She could and never would forgive him for abandoning her to Razak’s less-than-tender mercies, but she had still harbored a last, faint hope that he would feel at least a trace of remorse for what he had made her endure and treat her more kindly than Mayhew and Chaudry.

  That hope died as he grinned at her, and a cold chill of horror raced through her body as he added, “After I left you with Razak, I never expected to see you again, you know. I thought you would end up in a harem somewhere, with some fat Indian merchant pawing your breasts and spilling his seed into your belly. I would have enjoyed finding out that that was what had happened to you; but, instead, here you are. The Colonel tells me that you were on your way to be sold when you escaped Razak’s clutches. That was most enterprising of you, my dear, but if you imagine that it makes the slightest difference to your situation, I can assure you that you are mistaken. You have succeeded in escaping the frying pan, only to fall straight into the fire. You were to be sold as a sex-slave…a toy for men’s pleasure…and a sexual toy you will remain. My toy, slut. Mine and the Colonel’s and even the Sergeant’s; and, by the time we are done with you, you little bitch, you’ll wish that you were still with Razak!”

  The venomous words and icy gleam in his eyes warned Belinda that he intended to show her no mercy whatever; and, as he drew his riding crop, she screamed in anguish and wrenched madly at the bonds that held her spread and defenseless before him. His arm rose and fell; and, as the “thwack” of leather meeting flesh rang through the cellar, Belinda squealed her pain and terror as he painted her thighs and belly with livid red stripes of searing fire. Pain coupled with shattering, unbearable stimulation as his free hand, fingers extended, drove irresistibly into her gaping sex to send immense jolts of pure, naked lust exploding up into her belly as he whipped and aroused her without pity.

  Subjected to such incredible torment, Belinda could not even begin to hold back and convulsed with enormous power as an orgasm of stunning intensity burst over her, foaming waves of scalding love juices bursting into her belly and sex and running down over his embedded fingers as she submitted unconditionally to his brutal mastery of her body.

  “Slut!” he sneered as she came helplessly. “Trollop!” His crop blazed a cruel stripe of stinging heat across her shuddering belly. “Randy whore!” The merciless leather rose to snap and bite at the tautened globes and throbbing nipples of her swollen breasts as his fingers squeezed the protruding nub of her engorged clitoris, and she screamed muffled pleas to be permitted to serve him as the most humble and submissive of all slaves.

  It availed her nothing; and, as her Master taught her that nothing she could ever do or say could save her from his vengeance, Belinda was propelled into a second gigantic climax as her brain and body surrendered to the overwhelming and utterly devastating mixture of pain and ecstatic pleasure forced upon her. Responding solely to the twin stimuli of his crop and fingers, the distraught blonde exhibited the limitless depths of her sexual subjugation to her Master, her belly contracting frantically to release floods of her juices, her whip-striped breasts quivering and rigid nipples throbbing painfully as spasm after spasm of her orgasm raged uncontrollably through her sweat-streaked body, even after he took his hand and crop from her and stood back to relish the erotic sight of her abject submission to his will.

  For long minutes, he stood motionless, watching her with cold, hard eyes, until, at the first sign that the intensity of her passion was beginning to wane, he tore off his breeches and plunged his huge, fully erect maleness into her dripping sex.

  Impaled in one mighty thrust, Belinda shrieked and her fingers clawed at the wooden post behind her as his iron-hard shaft lunged to the very core of her churning belly to send her hurtling down into a third volcanic orgasm; and, even as her internal spasms deluged his bulging flesh with heated showers of her juices, her Master gave a spiteful laugh and hissed, “Now, you may satisfy me, slut,” and his crop scorched across the brand at her left hip.

  The pain and her knowledge that she had been and was being used as a full sex-slave by a man she had once loved, brought tears of dreadful humiliation and despair to her eyes, but the frenzied turmoil in her body and her ingrained slave training could not be resisted. And now, as his shaft pounded into her belly, Belinda…the slave…wept in shame and ecstasy and sorrow for her lost freedom and screamed her ultimate submission as a torrent of her Master’s spend jetted into the bubbling, seething cauldron of her belly to mix with the swirling whirlpool of her own heated juices as she came for an astonishing fourth time.

  Panting from his exertions, Adams slid from her belly; and, as Belinda whimpered, he sneered into her tear filled eyes. “How very fortunate that I didn’t marry you back in England when you were a free woman, slut,” he told her callously. “I would never have had the pleasure of whipping you, and no respectable Englishwoman would disgrace herself by behaving like the whore you have shown yourself to be. But you’re not free, are you, bitch, so you had best get used to it.” With a cruel chuckle, he turned away and left her slumped in her bonds with her belly still racked by the ongoing spasms of her climax.

  Adams joined Mayhew and Chaudry; and, as the three dominant Masters gazed around the cellar at the slaves they shared and who had been made to serve them so fully, each smiled with the pleasure of absolute power, knowing that whenever they chose, Belinda, Ranee and Arabella would be close at hand and immediately available to fulfill any sexual desire they cared to demand. Willingly…or under the compulsion of their whips, if necessary!

  Colonel Mayhew consulted his watch. “Duty calls, Philip,” he said jovially then turned to Chaudry. “We must go, Sergeant. I am sure we can leave the slaves in your capable hands, can we not?”

  “Yes, sir. I will secure Ranee and begin the arrangements for suitable furnishings at once.”

  “Very good, Sergeant. Then Captain Adams and I will leave you to it. Oh
, one more thing. The physician you spoke of…?”

  “I will arrange it, sir.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant. Then we will rejoin you and your delightful charges later.”

  “They’ll be here, sir,” Chaudry grinned. “We would not wish to lose them now, would we, sir?”

  “Indeed, we would not,” Mayhew agreed firmly.

  Adams chuckled, “Not now that they have proven their usefulness, eh, Colonel?”

  “May I suggest something, sir?” Chaudry’s smile grew wider. “I happen to know that many slaves are shaved between their legs, sir. It ensures complete access, sir, and I just wondered if the idea appeals to you?”

  Arabella gave a little squeal of dismay as he made the humiliating suggestion; and, as Mayhew heard his wife’s muffled protest and saw her evident unwillingness to be deprived of the curls between her thighs, he chuckled and nodded, “Certainly, Sergeant. An excellent idea. I take it that you would enjoy the task?”

  “Yes, sir, I would.”

  “Carry on then. I rather like the thought of dear Arabella with even less protection than she has already.” As the soon-to-be-shorn brunette stared wide-eyed at him, he strode from the cellar, followed by Adams.

  Chaudry locked the door from the inside then went to where Ranee knelt with her thighs spread and shoulders pulled back to display her body and unclipped her wrist cuffs. “Stay as you are, slave, and remain silent.”

  Then he bent to release Arabella’s ankles and wrists. He snapped, “Display, slave!” and the brunette gulped nervously and obeyed, her kneeling body arched and shamefully exposed to his gaze.

  Belinda, too, he freed from her bonds but only to order her to assume the same pose alongside her companions; and, as the three naked women stared mutely up at him, he nodded firmly and spoke.