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Submissives of the Colonel

Page 18

by Charles Graham

“Each of you wears a slave’s collar around your neck. Each of you is trained to obey and serve your Masters, and each of you knows the whip. While you remain here, you will serve me and your other Masters perfectly and without question or hesitation. If you disobey, you will be punished. If you are not fully pleasing, you will be punished. If you speak without permission, you will be punished.” He paused to stare directly into each pair of anxious eyes and then continued, “Once, you were all free. Two of you were English Memsahibs. But no more, for now you are all slaves, and that is all you will ever be.”

  His words drove home the reality of their situation to all three but particularly to Arabella, and it was she who found it hardest to accept.

  Twice, her mouth opened to voice a protest; and, twice, it closed as she failed to find the words that would shake the arrogant authority of the dominant Indian Master; and, as he ordered Ranee and then Belinda to enter one of the alcoves of the main cellar and bolted the heavy doors to lock each in her own cell, the brunette shivered and her brain raced as she tried to think of a way to persuade him not to imprison her.

  Resistance was useless, he was far stronger and could overpower her with little effort; bribery was out of the question, for she had no money of her own, and the promise of sex in return for her freedom was a card he had already trumped, for he had made her pleasure him with her mouth and lips, and she knew he could take her by force if he so chose.

  Her enslavement left her nothing to bargain with; and, as she faced the unpalatable fact of her inability to offer him anything that he could not take from her, with or without her agreement, Arabella knew that she had no choice but to accept her fate and try to make the best of it.

  Chaudry swung open the thick wooden door of the third alcove and snapped, “In, slave.” As she rose to her feet and walked unwillingly into the small, bare cell, she took a deep breath and asked humbly, “Master? May I be permitted to speak?”

  Chaudry frowned then relented and gave a nod.

  “My husb….My Master,” she corrected herself quickly. “He…He won’t r…really have my nose p..p..pierced, will he?”

  It was the subject that had been preying on her mind since her husband had first mooted it; and, although she was frightened of what the answer might be, she could not help asking the question.

  Chaudry grinned and replied as he began to swing the door closed, “When everything is prepared, slave, I shall shave those pretty curls from between your legs myself. And a day or two after that, the physician will answer that question for you…” and the door slammed shut on her and a bolt rattled to lock her in.

  Stunned, Arabella stared numbly at the closed door then around the cell that was to be her home for an unknown time; her brain struggling with the knowledge that she was a naked, chained captive in the cellars beneath her own house. Only a few feet above her head lay freedom and luxury and servants to do her bidding, but they were as remote from her as England….and just as unaware of her plight.

  Tonight, her husband would dine and smoke his cigars in comfort and then retire to a soft bed while she did not know if she was to be fed at all and had only the hard brick floor for a mattress.

  She stared down at the thick tangle of dark curls that hid the entrance of her sex then slowly raised both hands to her face; and, as her mind pictured herself with her belly denuded of every trace of sheltering hair and a gleaming gold ring dangling from her nose to mark her as a slave, she groaned and sank to her knees as tears of shame and despair and futile anger at Randolph’s treatment of her welled from her brown eyes.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Armed with the authority bestowed on him by Colonel Mayhew, Chaudry had requisitioned everything he needed to transform the cellars into a secure and fully equipped dungeon for the three slaves and had then hired a group of skilled workmen from the town to assist him, their cooperation…and their silence…assured by a combination of lavish payment and dire threats that the lucrative Army contracts they enjoyed would be cancelled immediately if even a hint of the nature of the modifications they made to the cellar ever leaked out.

  Under his supervision, they worked far into the night; and, as iron rings and chains were hammered into the walls and floor, pulleys and ropes hung from the roof, and heavy timbers shaped to his specifications and sunk in place, then fitted with broad, buckled straps of strong leather, the muffled cries and questions that filtered through the doors of the locked alcoves were studiously ignored…

  It was late when the workmen departed, their pockets jingling with rupees, but Chaudry was not in the least tired, anticipation banishing any thought of rest from his mind as he set out shaving gear near the first of three massive teak tables that formed a semi-circle at the far end of the cellar, their smooth tops studded with rings and straps to hold a captive in any desired position.

  Satisfied with his preparations, he took the crop from his belt and unlocked the first alcove…and found Belinda on her knees facing him, her body beautifully arched, wrists together behind her back, and her eyes wide with apprehension as she displayed herself in the pose of a trained slave.

  He chuckled and put his crop away. “Very good, slave. Open your mouth,” As she obeyed, he thrust a large leather ball gag into her mouth and buckled it tightly behind her neck.

  Silenced, the frightened English blonde jumped to her feet as he ordered her to follow him, tiny gasps of horror leaking past her gag as she saw the bondage devices he had had installed and instantly recognised their purpose.

  “On the table, slave. Face up, with arms and legs spread.”

  Belinda moaned in despair; but, as his brow furrowed in a frown and his hand went to the crop, she trembled with fear and scrambled onto the table, positioning herself exactly as ordered.

  Chaudry clipped her ankle cuffs to rings at the bottom of the table, stretched her arms to their full extent and secured each wrist, then stood back to inspect her helpless form.

  Spread-eagled, Belinda was totally unable to close her gaping thighs or defend herself from him and her belly filled with unwanted, unstoppable slave heat as her slave trained body responded to her vulnerability…but her Master had other slaves to bind before attending to her desires and simply left her to her need and frustration without even a single caress as he went to the door of the second alcove.

  Arabella heard the scrape of the bolt at her cell door and went to her knees, hoping that it was her husband come to visit her and apologize for his infidelity with Ranee and for subjecting her to the ignominy of being made to serve Sergeant Chaudry in such a shameful manner. She understood and accepted that Randolph felt it his duty to keep her guilty secret from becoming public knowledge and was even prepared to remain out of sight and carry out her promise to submit to him and be his obedient sex-slave….at least in private, if that was the price he demanded from her….but he had let himself get carried away by the novelty of being an all-powerful Master and it was high time she reminded him that there were certain standards and limits of civilised behavior that an English officer and gentleman should never exceed.

  Unfortunately for her hopes, it was not her husband who opened the door; and, as she saw the unsmiling Indian Sergeant, the carefully chosen arguments she had planned to use to persuade Randolph to change his mind, collapsed about her ears. Before she could move, Chaudry wedged a large ball between her teeth and pulled her to her feet, propelling her out into the main cellar.

  Her eyes bulged in shock at the ropes and chains dangling from the roof and walls; and, as she was pushed towards the wooden tables and saw Belinda’s spread-eagled nudity, a dreadful numbness paralyzed her will as she realised that there was to be no escaping her fate and no reconciliation with Randolph. Sunk in frozen despair, she made no attempt to resist as her limbs were pulled wide and secured; and, by the time her brain began to recover from her waking nightmare, it was much too late…

  From the first moment she followed her Master into the underground cellar and saw the two English wo
men in bondage, Ranee had known exactly what her immediate future was to be; and, as Chaudry gagged her and took her to join Arabella and Belinda, she obeyed his instructions perfectly and without hesitation. Her only alternative was a whipping, and Ranee did not care to risk earning herself a punishment for attempting to resist a Master by making a futile gesture of defiance. That it would be futile, she understood all too well, for Chaudry was far stronger than her, and she was alone with him in a locked cellar.

  It would be childishly easy for him to overpower and bind her; and, once she was helpless, his crop would extract a cruel penalty from her tender flesh, for she recognised a streak of ruthlessness in him that even her own Master, Captain Adams, did not possess.

  Adams had whipped her often and would, no doubt, whip her again, but always for his own pleasure…and, perhaps, for hers…using his crop as a means of both discipline and arousal….but Ranee suspected that a punishment at the hands of the muscular Sergeant would have nothing to do with pleasure and would bring her only pain.

  Like Razak’s warrior, the fearsome Bohar, Chaudry believed in the total and abject subjugation of slaves and would use any means in his power to impose it, no matter what the cost to his anguished victim.

  Frightened by her insight, Ranee lay passive and silent in her bonds as her Master picked up his shaving kit and began to apply a creamy lather to the black sprigs of her pubic hair, only the gentle trembling of her belly and the glint of unshed tears in her eyes betraying her humiliation as his razor deprived her of her curls and left her utterly bare to his hard gaze.

  Bending low to inspect his work and ensure not a single trace of hair remained, he sent his mouth to the exposed softness of her offered sex; and, as his lips and tongue delved deep into her body, Ranee gasped in overwhelming arousal and her belly kicked violently with instantaneous slave heat.

  “Horny slut,” he laughed, amused by her frantic response to his lips. “You have just earned yourself the opportunity to show me how well you can serve me.” When she nodded eagerly, he added, “After I finish with these two,” Then he moved on to Arabella.

  The brunette shuddered once as she felt the cold steel of his razor at her belly then forced herself into immobility as he shaved her with practiced speed. While his fingers brushed away cut hairs from the pale flesh between her thighs, she whimpered in anguish and shame as cool air caressed the pink folds of her revealed sex.

  In minutes, Belinda, too, was shaven; and, as Chaudry stared down at the denuded bellies of the two English slaves then sent his hands to toy with each woman’s prominently displayed labia, muffled gasps and moans of unwanted and quite irresistible passion told of the helpless need his arrogant touch ignited as their sexes grew wet and slick beneath his exploring fingers.

  Knowing that both were powerless to control the slave heat raging through their spread-eagled bodies and reveling in his Mastery over them, he built them to a straining, shuddering peak of sexual frenzy. As their bellies leapt to the slightest movement of his fingers and their hips bucked upwards to meet his hands, he sneered down into the brown and blue eyes that pleaded for the orgasms that only he could give them….and took his hands away. Twin wails of despair and disbelief echoed through the cellar as he deprived them of the release they craved, but Chaudry was impervious to the wishes of mere slaves and simply ignored the protests as he stripped off his uniform and turned his attentions back to Ranee.

  The positioning of the three tables was no accident, for Chaudry had arranged them personally; and, as he lay down beside Ranee, he had not only unhindered access to her body, but an equally perfect view of the hugely spread figures of Belinda and Arabella…and the two slaves could not avoid seeing him and everything he did to Ranee.

  Settling himself comfortably, he began a long, unhurried exploration of the Indian girl’s slender body, his lips and fingers nuzzling and caressing the silky flesh of her shoulders and breasts and stomach and thighs, but never quite reaching her tawny nipples or the moist opening of her shaven sex.

  With her body sensitized by his touch, Ranee began to undulate and writhe in her tight bondage, her spine hollowing as she tried to press her breasts into his hands and trap his fingers to draw them into her body, but Chaudry would not permit her to succeed. When her submissive passions and frustration built steadily higher, she whimpered and her hips arched clear of the table as she fought to offer herself still more shamelessly to her Master.

  It was an object lesson in the ability of a Master to bend a slave…any slave…to his will; and, as Ranee gasped and begged into her gag, pleading to be allowed to come, the message was not lost on Belinda and Arabella.

  Their Master had decreed that it was to be Ranee who suffered such deliciously frustrating torment, rather than either of them, but each knew that it so easily could have been her body responding helplessly to his ruthless dominance…and understood with total clarity that, if his choice of slave had been different, the end result would have been the same.

  Conditioned to respond to any Master and submit utterly to whatever sexual subjugation he cared to demand of her, no trained slave could hope to resist the blazing heat of enforced passion imposed on her by her bondage, her collar, and her nature; and, as the two English captives gazed with wide, anxious eyes at the havoc wreaked on Ranee’s shuddering body, it was in the full knowledge that they were looking at themselves…….

  Chaudry read their eyes and knew exactly what was in their minds as they stared at Ranee and his lips curved into a wolfish grin. With an athletic twist of his muscular body, he rolled onto the trembling slave at his side and buried his straining erection in the hot, wet depths of her gaping sex, a shrill scream of ecstatic surrender torn from her throat as he penetrated her with a single huge thrust.

  Sucked into her belly by the vice-like grip of her internal muscles, his thick shaft sank to the very core of her seething belly. His hard presence triggered her orgasm, a flood of bubbling love juices erupted over his maleness.

  Unable to hold back for even an instant against the tornado of fervid lust that overwhelmed her, Ranee convulsed in great, jolting spasms of uncontrollable passion, then convulsed a second time and then a third as her Master took her without mercy, his iron hard shaft pounding into her churning belly to bring wave after wave of her heated juices pouring down as she squealed and gasped to each savage lunge.

  His fingers captured her nipples, rolling and pinching the rigidly erect buds. Ranee screamed and renewed paroxysms exploded through her belly to the cruel mixture of pain and additional arousal, his spend jetted into her writhing body to seal the completeness of his victory over the third and last of his three utterly subjugated slaves.

  Sated with pleasure, Chaudry rolled over and rose to his feet, his eyes glittering with triumphant malice as he stared into the gagged, frightened faces of each of the helpless women in turn.

  “Hear me well, sluts,” he commanded harshly. “That is how you will please me when I permit you to serve as the collared slaves you are. I am your Master; and, if you fail to satisfy me in any way I desire, then you will soon live to regret it.”

  He bent to snatch up his discarded crop and sent it burning with horrifying accuracy across the newly shaven triangle between each pair of spread thighs, a chorus of muffled screams accompanied the crack of leather and the flowering of vivid red stripes as he administered undeserved punishment to the flinching bodies of his helpless captives.

  They knew as well as he did that they had done nothing wrong…had responded to his touch and submitted to his demands as fully and as perfectly as any Master could have wished…but they had still been whipped and were horribly aware that even the most perfect obedience was not guaranteed to keep them safe from a Master’s whim…or his whip. As slaves, they could and would be disciplined for any reason, or for no reason at all, simply as a salutary and quite unnecessary reminder of their lowly status. Chaudry finally lowered his crop to dress and then bent low to inspect the marks he had painted on
their bodies, the three frightened slaves dropped their eyes from his cold gaze in case he interpreted meeting his eyes as insolence deserving a further punishment.

  It was precisely the reaction he had set out to achieve; and, as he strode from the cellar and bolted the door behind him, he knew that he left behind a trio of extremely anxious and miserable slaves to endure, as best they could, a night of inescapably tight bondage, gag-stretched jaws, smarting flesh, and remorseless exposure of their spread-eagled nudity. A night in which acute discomfort and the helplessness of their plight would only confirm the realities of their enslavement and strengthen their acceptance, no matter how unwilling of inevitable and permanent subjugation to the chains and whips of the Masters they must obey and serve for the rest of their lives.

  Later, as he lay at ease on his bed, Chaudry smiled in the darkness, his thoughts full of the evening’s events and of the slaves who waited in their bonds for the new day and the return of the Masters who controlled every aspect of their fate. His cruel smile grew wider as he remembered his conversation with Colonel Mayhew and Captain Adams after the slaves had been locked into their cells the day before.

  Following the agreement they had reached, he had made his way to an address in Peshlara and made certain arrangements with the physician who lived there. Arrangements of which the three women were completely unaware and of which they would remain in blissful ignorance…until the coming day and the moment when, at the command of and in the presence of their Masters, each would understand beyond any possibility of doubt, that hers was a slavery which could never, ever, be escaped.

  Chapter Nineteen

  One at a time, under constant guard by Chaudry, Belinda, Ranee and Arabella had been released from their bonds and permitted to wash, eat and drink their fill before being ordered to return to the table from which she had been untied and submit to being gagged and spread-eagled once more.

 

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