Spinning down into a maelstrom of incandescent lust and abject sexual subjugation at the hands of the Master she adored, Arabella pressed her hips backwards to impale herself still more deeply on his fingers; and, as he rubbed and fondled the erect, exquisitely sensitive nub of her hardened clitoris, she squealed in the unbearable rapture of a slave’s delicious torment. Far beyond any possibility of self-control, the tattered remnants of modesty and civilised decorum consumed in the fires of her enforced lusts, the slave who had once been Arabella Mayhew moaned in shameful excitement as her Master’s hard finger explored the puckered rosette of her anal passage and then forced its way past the tight ring to penetrate her in the most humiliating way of all. Powerless to eject or resist the double violation, she could only submit and as a gigantic climax erupted through her shuddering body and heated jets of her love juices exploded into her seething belly…submit she did.
Even when he took his glistening fingers from her, Arabella’s submission continued unabated; and, as he watched her writhe and jerk to the ongoing spasms racking her slender frame, his last reservations about the active part he had played in her downfall, vanished as if they had never been.
It was impossible, now, to see her as the cool, elegant Memsahib she had once been and as she forced her trembling, sweat-stained body back into the sexually explicit pose of a slave’s display in response to his terse command, he unbuckled and removed her gag, then undid the buttons of his breeches and allowed his erect maleness to spring free.
“You know what I want, slut,” he said harshly, deliberately addressing her in rough tones he would never have used with her when she was a free woman. “So get on with it!”
Arabella flushed a bright, embarrassed scarlet, but had been given a direct order by a Master and knew that if she hesitated, punishment would surely follow. With a stifled moan, she shuffled forward and opened her soft lips to allow his rampant flesh into her mouth, gagging her and bulging her cheeks.
Buried full length in warm, moist heat and relishing the sensual pleasure of her lips and tongue sucking and licking at his thick shaft, Colonel Mayhew gazed down at the bowed head of his fully subjugated slave-wife, his brain racing with delightful visions of a future in which Arabella’s ringed, collared, and tightly bound body would offer endlessly erotic possibilities for his sexual pleasure. A broad grin curved his lips, and he gave a cruel chuckle as a delicious irony crossed his mind.
In England, none but the most shameless of kept mistresses or the most highly paid whores would even dare to consider serving their protectors and clients in the way that Arabella was serving him…but here in India, his pampered, respected, demure little wife was not only forced to pleasure him with her lips and mouth but would be whipped if she failed to be fully satisfactory.
And she was not even paid to do it…unless, of course, she considered the gold rings transfixing her nose and nipples and labia to be adequate recompense for her efforts.
Which he seriously doubted.
Chapter Twenty
August 4, 1876
Bound belly down on the narrow, thinly padded top of a whipping-bench, Arabella Mayhew stared disconsolately at the blank brick wall a few feet before her and pulled very, very carefully for about the twentieth time at the leather and steel which confined her straddled limbs…knowing full well that it was a waste of time.
With each wrist and ankle cuff clipped to iron rings screwed into the wide-set legs of the bench, knees and elbows clamped by broad leather straps and her ringed nipples connected by a thin, tight chain passed under the bench on which she lay, it was all she could do to wiggle her fingers and toes; escape was not even a remote possibility. She could not even protest or turn her head to look around her, for her chin was lifted and trapped in a “V” shaped support that prevented movement and a large steel ring was wedged behind her front teeth and held in place by a thin strap buckled tightly behind her neck….and Arabella understood only too well what that meant….
Spread wide open by her Master’s stringent and expert bondage, she was powerless to prevent him ravaging both her mouth and her belly if he wished; and, with her chain-tethered breasts presented on either side of the narrow bench and threatening instant retribution to her sensitive nipples if she even attempted to resist or wriggle, he had complete and unobstructed access to every pleasure centre of her whole body.
Even for Arabella, submissive by nature and inclination and a slave..almost..by choice, the prospect of being quite so vulnerable was still more than enough to temper the familiar arousal she felt with a considerable seasoning of anxiety. Especially as the Master who had bound her was Sergeant Chaudry.
More than Captain Adams, more even than her own adored husband and Master, Chaudry had made it his business…and his pleasure…to explore and extend the boundaries of her obedience and submission; and, as she heard him moving around behind her, Arabella could only wait and worry just what lay in store for her in the mind of the determinedly dominant Indian.
Chaudry let his gaze sweep over the displayed curves of the naked and utterly helpless brunette, his Colonel’s wife, who lay spread and defenceless before him; and, as he gazed at the slender columns of her spread thighs, rounded buttocks, and smoothly hollowed spine, he felt his maleness bulge in anticipation of the pleasures to come.
Since the first day he saw her and recognised the pale imprint of Razak’s collar on her slender throat, it had been his dream and his fantasy to have her kneel at his feet in the chains of a slave and hear her beg to serve him in any way he desired. That fantasy had become reality when Colonel Mayhew had collared her himself and had her pierced to receive the rings of her slavery then shared her with Captain Adams and Chaudry himself.
Arabella, as a slave, had never disappointed him, and he did not intend to permit her to disappoint him now.
Fingering the flexible riding crop at his belt, he debated whether to whip her straight away, or save that particular enjoyment for later, finally deciding to postpone her disciplining until he had aroused her fully.
Reaching into his jacket, he drew out a smooth, cylindrical rod, some six inches long and an inch and a half in diameter, carved from a solid piece of ivory, domed at the tip and with four thin chains evenly spaced around its flared base.
The ivory felt cool and dry in his palm; but, as he reminded himself that it would not stay cool or dry for very much longer, his lips curled into a wolfish grin.
Staring straight ahead and unable to see her Master, Arabella had no inkling of the humiliating ordeal she was to endure; and, as Chaudry slid the device between the parted lips of her sex, her body responded with immediate slave heat and the moistening of her groin.
Sliding it back and forth, up and down the yawning cleft of her sex, the Sergeant built Arabella’s arousal steadily higher until she gasped and trembled in unbearable need and the ivory rod glistened and shone with a slippery, wet coating of her copious juices.
Then he took it from her belly and pressed the domed head firmly against the tight, pink-rimmed entry of her anal passage, holding it in place as the horrified brunette squealed in outraged anguish, straining vainly against her bondage despite the sharp twinges of pain at her nipples that resulted from her frantic efforts to prevent the shameful violation she now knew was to be imposed upon her. The unequal contest could have only one possible outcome, and Arabella screamed in appalled misery as Chaudry decided to end her futile resistance and his strong hand pushed the dreadful rod deep into her body.
Impaled by the rigid shaft and with her rear passage filled and uncomfortably stretched, Arabella wept in black despair, her buttocks flexing and clenching as she fought to eject the invader penetrating her so humiliatingly…but her Master had foreseen just such a reaction.
Holding the buried shaft in place with one hand, he passed two of the four chains around her thighs and the other two up and around her hips, clipping each back to its fixing point on the flared base and preventing her from expelling the devi
ce, no matter how hard she tried.
Try she did, whimpering and struggling as best she could, while her Master stood behind her watching and smiling cruelly at her unrewarded efforts….then he tightened the chains further.
There was no escape for Arabella; and, as she was forced to accept the unwelcome and hugely embarrassing presence of the thick shaft buried full length in her bottom for as long as her Master wished her to be plugged, a towering wave of masochistic arousal poured through her tightly chained body, both astounding and frightening her at the same time.
It was not the first time she had suffered the indignity of being explored in such a manner…Razak’s men and Captain Adams and even her own husband had fingered her before…but those occasions paled into insignificance compared with this merciless invasion and the stunning knowledge that the hard plug was locked into her body by chains that she could not release.
From deep in the pit of her belly, foaming, swirling jets of scalding love juices boiled unstoppably upwards; and, as Arabella wailed in helpless dismay, a monstrous orgasm tore through her body.
Under the gleaming eyes of a Master whose cruelty and ruthlessness she had good cause to fear, the horrified English brunette climaxed with stupendous power, her belly convulsing wildly and great gouts of silvery love juices exploding from her sex to spray her flexing thighs and bottom as she was forced to exhibit the limitless extent of her submission to his erotic dominance.
For long, endless minutes, Chaudry feasted his senses on the sight and sounds of Arabella’s total surrender, savouring his triumph and the sensual writhing of her bound nudity as she shuddered and moaned in unbearable passion, her uncontrollable responses even more intense than he had hoped when he conceived his plan.
Slowly, he reached forward; and, as she felt his hands cup her dangling breasts and his fingers roll and squeeze her erect nipples and tug cruelly at the chain linking her pierced flesh, Arabella gave a wordless squeal of anguish, and her belly pulsed with renewed force as her Master toyed casually with her, his skillful blending of pleasure and pain sending continuous mini-climaxes rippling through her defenceless body.
Driven into an inferno of masochistic lust and sexual subjugation, she could do nothing to control her maddened needs. Chaudry moved in front of her, then freed his bulging erection and plunged it through the ring stretching her lips and deep into her soft, wet mouth, she sucked and licked at his iron hard flesh with all of the frantic desire of an utterly subjugated sex slave.
Chaudry raised his whip high then sent it cracking down across her buttocks and the base of the device in her bottom, raising four vivid scarlet stripes of blistering heat and bringing muffled screams of pained arousal from Arabella’s nose as the blows drove the plug deeper into her body, making her writhe even more furiously, her lips and tongue redoubling her desperate efforts to satisfy him.
With a cruel chuckle, he seized the rings transfixing her throbbing nipples; and, as he tugged and tweaked the golden symbols of her servitude, Arabella hurtled into still another enormous orgasm at the bidding of a Master she would once have despised and treated as a servant.
For Sergeant Chaudry, the moment was a very sweet one…made even sweeter by being fully aware that, if Arabella had still been a Memsahib instead of a slave, she would not have let him so much as touch her, let alone pleasure him with her mouth as she was doing now.
Now, though, she was a slave, and he was her Master…and he had no intention of loosening a single one of her bonds until he had enjoyed every inch of her delightfully responsive curves.
Totally absorbed in serving her Master, Arabella had no suspicion that she was no longer alone with him…until a second thick, rigid shaft speared into her dripping sex and drove on remorselessly into the churning maelstrom of her seething belly.
Unable to see who was taking her or prevent him from using her as he chose, Arabella squealed in shock then squealed again as Chaudry flicked her nipple rings in an unspoken command for her to continue her oral servicing of his swollen maleness.
Gasping for breath through flaring nostrils, Arabella was given no choice but to pleasure both of her Masters at the same time; and, as one ravaged her soft mouth while the other plundered her pulsating sex, the hapless brunette was sent spinning down into a bottomless pit of uncontrollable sexual arousal and abject subjugation, heated love juices jetting into her convulsing belly as orgasm after orgasm crashed through her quaking, shuddering body.
Gagged by Chaudry’s massive shaft and with the ivory rod buried deep in her bottom combining with her unknown assailant’s powerful thrusts to create ruinous havoc in her belly, Arabella came and came again, submitting unconditionally to her slavery and the ruthless demands of both of her Masters, unable to retain even the tiniest vestige of control over the crazed responses of her devastated body.
Chaudry gave a hoarse cry as his spend hosed into her mouth and throat; and, as the captive brunette gulped and swallowed down his hot, salty seed, the second Master lunged with frightening strength and sprayed huge gouts of his juices into the boiling cauldron of her belly.
The chains at Arabella’s limbs and breasts sprang bar taut, and she screamed in pained ecstasy, her whole body arching to the tornado of lust that overwhelmed her as a final gigantic orgasm burst into her belly and her heated love juices drenched the juddering shaft impaling her….then she collapsed in a trembling, gasping huddle, shaking to the racking spasms of her enforced submission as her climax stormed through her.
Slipping from her mouth, Chaudry walked behind her to join the anonymous Master who had taken her with such thrilling power as he, too, withdrew from her belly. Arabella flinched and gasped as a hand prodded the shameful rod plugging her bottom and tugged at the securing chains.
“A most ingenious device, Sergeant. Is it the first time she has worn it?”
Arabella blushed a deep shade of scarlet and groaned in dreadful humiliation as the familiar voice of her adored husband revealed the identity of the unknown Master who had used her so well; but, as a hard palm smacked across her bottom, he snapped, “Be quiet when your Masters are talking, slave!” She was forced to endure her embarrassment in silence.
“Yes, it is, sir. It seems to be most effective.”
“Indeed it is, my friend. But have you not had her while she is wearing it?”
“Not yet, sir, no.”
“Oh, but you must, Sergeant. I insist. It is a really quite extraordinary sensation and most..ah..stimulating. For both parties, it would appear, to judge from dear Arabella’s performance.”
“Thank you, sir, I will. Just as soon as I regain my vigour.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. Slaves can be quite…draining…but I am quite sure a man like you will soon recover. Especially with such a rewarding prospect to look forward to.”
“Very true, sir,” Chaudry agreed. Then he added, “Did you want me for something, sir?”
“Oh, yes, I do, Sergeant. I almost forgot, what with such an enticing distraction. Army business, I’m afraid, but it shouldn’t take more than an hour or two, and then you can resume where you left off.”
“Certainly, sir. Duty first, pleasure later, sir.”
“As ever, Sergeant, as ever. In my office in five minutes then.”
“I shall be there, sir.” Mayhew strode away.
Chaudry moved to stand over her, and Arabella trembled as his cold eyes bored into hers. “Duty calls, slut,” he grinned without humour. “You have two hours and would be well advised to be ready when I return.”
He turned away, callously ignoring the mute pleading of her wide brown eyes; and, as the cellar door thudded closed behind him, Arabella whimpered in anguish. She had hoped that he would ease the stringent discomfort of her bondage…or at least remove the awful plug that filled and stretched her anal passage, reminding her, every second, of its humiliating presence…but he had not, and she knew that she must remain as he had left her, a fiercely hot, helplessly aroused slave, inescapably boun
d, gagged and in shameful, all too evident need, nakedly offered for the use of whoever entered the cellar.
Exactly as she had been when the Sergeant and her husband had both taken her and made her submit totally to their Mastery of her.
Exactly as Chaudry would find her on his return.
Chapter Twenty One
Colonel Mayhew’s garden
Behind the high wall that surrounded Colonel Mayhew’s home, the large, well-tended gardens contained many mature trees, and it was to one of these that Belinda found herself chained some weeks after she and her two companions in slavery had been pierced and ringed.
In the days and nights that had passed since then, she and Arabella and Ranee had all been taught to understand that their uncompromising Masters accepted nothing less than perfect obedience and instant, total submission to their commands and will, the smallest hesitation or imperfection on the part of any slave resulting in the stinging bite of leather on soft flesh.
Razak himself could have been no more ruthless; and, as she was forced to surrender to the iron discipline imposed on her, Belinda prayed in vain for a single sign of pity or compassion for her plight. It was a sign that never came; and, as the slim, collared blonde was forced to serve and satisfy the sexual desires of her three captors, she had no choice but to accept that her prayers were not to be answered.
Once a free, proud English Memsahib, she was now simply a chained, ringed slave, her body adorned with the gold of her Masters; and, as that unarguable truth burned itself into her brain, Belinda Wallace abandoned all hope of freedom and devoted all of her energies to the task of becoming as perfect a slave as she could…and as she must.
In the dappled shade of the tree above her, her naked body formed an inverted “Y”, arms raised high above her head by a tight chain from her cuffed wrists to a thick branch, legs hugely spread and chained to iron pegs hammered into the earth, lips stretched around a massive leather ball-gag and her eyes sealed behind a padded blindfold.
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