G2-Story-034-Gemma-Pt-6

Gemma knelt on the teak deck of her Master’s yacht, her head lowered submissively in the position ordered. She was, for once, neither bound nor gagged, but her freedom, such as it was, was an illusion for the yacht was at anchor in the shallow blue lagoon of a small, uninhabited island and there was nowhere for her to go, even if she had dared to try to escape. She stole a glance to her left and met the downcast green eyes of Clarissa, the slim redhead kneeling as humbly and patiently as Gemma while the pair waited for their Masters to appear on the deck.

“What do you think they’re going to do with us?” Gemma whispered, her lips hardly moving.

“No idea.” Clarissa replied softly, “But you can bet it’ll be awful. I don’t know why, but they’re being really tough on us.”

“Yes, I know!” Gemma agreed feelingly, “As if it wasn’t hard enough already. I wonder what ...?” Both girls froze as their Masters came on deck and strode towards them, the three men relaxed and confident when they looked down at their naked captives.

Head down, a shiver of anxious anticipation warmed Gemma’s belly when bundles of leather straps and metal buckles were dropped casually in front of her and Clarissa.

“Put them on and make quite sure they’re tight. I’ll be checking them personally.”

The order came from Clarissa’s Master, Matthew, and both slave girls knew that he would take pleasure in punishing them if the gags were not uncomfortably tight enough. Gemma picked up the one of the evilly gleaming gags and opened her mouth wide to encompass the thick cylinder of hard leather, pressing it deep between her jaws to lodge firmly between her back teeth while her fingers threaded the strap through the steel buckle behind her neck and pulled it as tight as she could. Her cheeks bulged and her nostrils flared when she as she gagged herself with the thick rod, but she dared not disobey and consoled herself with the moist heat building between her thighs while she passed a split strap each side of her nose and up over the crown of her head, buckling it equally tightly. A third strap beneath her chin forced her to bite down on the leather rod, completing her silencing. She dropped her hands to the small of her naked back to await the next command. A padlock clamped her wrist cuffs together and she shivered when Master Matthew’s fingers tugged at her gag; assuring himself that his captive had not attempted to win herself the smallest laxity in her gag-harness.

“Adequate.” he said finally, a note of disappointment clear in his tone. Gemma allowed herself to relax fractionally, relieved that he had not been able to find a reason to inflict punishment on his slave.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Matthew!” Master Nicos chuckled softly, “You’ll get your chance. We all will, my friend. Just as soon as we get our little pigeons ... our very quiet little pigeons ... ashore.”

His low chuckle and the cruel laughter of his companions sent a tingle of fright racing through the two helpless slave girls and he snapped out a command.

“Up, slaves!” Gemma and Clarissa rose hurriedly to their feet and arched their bodies in the graceful and absolute exposure of the Display position, their wide, anxious eyes filling with alarm when they saw that each of their three Masters carried a riding crop and what appeared to be a long-barrelled air pistol in their hands.

“Oh, don’t worry, slave girls.” he grinned at the terrified slaves. “These won’t hurt you. You explain, Matthew. Put their minds at rest.” and his grin grew wider.

“Pay attention.” the older Master ordered and four frightened eyes stared in growing horror as he explained that the pistols were designed to fire balls of paint, each of a different colour, so that when a target was hit, the shooter could be identified. This was all very well, until, to gag-stifled groans from Gemma and Clarissa, he went on to explain that they were to be the targets!

His eyes gleamed with a predatory menace when he heard the muffled and futile protests of his captive audience, then added the final twist to the slave girls’ misery.

“Whoever shoots you,” he sneered cruelly, “gets to have you however they want, and in case you think you’ll be able to run away or hide ...” he mocked, “You won’t. The paint in the ammunition contains a derivative of the anaesthetic used for operations in hospitals. It won’t knock you out, but it will paralyse your limbs for about twenty minutes. It’s quite safe but very, very effective.”

Gemma stared wildly at her grinning Master, then at the other merciless faces and felt her body begin to tremble uncontrollably when she realised the awful fate about to befall her. Hunted like animals, cornered and shot with the paralysing drug, she and Clarissa would be utterly helpless, their bodies unable to move, unable to escape, unable, even, to put up token resistance. Clarissa squealed into her gag as Matthew sent his crop hissing across her naked buttocks, then scurried to the side of the yacht and clambered awkwardly down into the inflatable motor boat bobbing alongside, her green eyes wide with pain and the misery of her enforced obedience.

Ordered to follow, Gemma obeyed instantly, hoping to avoid Clarissa’s punishment and sank to her knees, head down, as the men got into the boat and Master Nicos sent it skimming across the small waves towards the gleaming white beach. The island, little more than a low spit of sand a few hundred yards long and less than half that in width, boasted only a small clump of trees in its centre, the rest being covered in short, springy grass and stunted bushes. As she looked at it, Gemma’s heart sank. The chances of her hiding from the hunters for more than a very few minutes was out of the question and she swallowed nervously, well aware that she could not hope to evade capture ... and what her capture would mean.

“Right, then!” Master Nicos’ voice was brisk, “You’ve got five minutes, then we come after you. We’re the hunters, you’re the game, so make it a good chase or otherwise we may have to encourage you.” and his fingers tapped meaningfully at the crop at his waist.

Gemma snatched a glance at Clarissa and saw her own helpless misery and despair mirrored in the redhead’s gagged face ... but then a crop cracked against her unsuspecting bottom and Master Steven’s voice cautioned her.

With a muffled groan, Gemma broke into a clumsy run, her buttocks smarting and bound wrists bumping behind her as she sought to distance herself from her cruel Masters and their stinging whips. In seconds she reached the clump of trees, but they were far too few to present a hiding place and she hurried on, her eyes seeking desperately for somewhere to conceal herself. To her left, she heard Clarissa’s footfalls and instinctively turned away, guessing that to be found together would get them both punished for not trying hard enough. Clarissa must have had the same thought, for her steps moved away as the redhead looked for her own hiding place, but there was nowhere and Gemma moaned bitterly while her gaze swept over bare sand, short grass and the few stubby bushes available.

A not-very-distant shout warned her that they were coming and she threw herself down behind the largest bush she could find, wriggling her body into the hot sand and taking advantage of what little cover the straggly plant offered and staring anxiously back through the sparse foliage to where the pursuit would appear. Two figures appeared almost at once and Gemma shuddered as she recognised Nicos and Steven as calm and relaxed as if they were out for a Sunday stroll, rather than hunting a naked slave girl. The two dominants ambled almost directly towards the bush hiding Gemma and the trembling brunette ducked her head swiftly when they appeared to look straight at her. The sudden movement was her downfall, attracting the attention of Master Steven, who gave a loud whoop of discovery and ran towards her, pointing his gun as he came.

There was nowhere for Gemma to run and with no way to resist and so the terrified slave girl did the only thing she could. With a convulsive heave of her shoulders, she rolled onto her knees, spread her thighs wide and bowed her head low, submitting herself as an absolute slave to the two men who ran up and stood over her.

“Caught you!” Steven crowed happily, staring down at the defenceless nude, but Nicos was less happy.

“Too damned easy.” the dark haired dominant growled, “I wanted to shoot her down.”

“Hmmm, yes. That would have been more fun.” Steven agreed, “But ... we could always do it anyway ...”

Gemma’s breath locked in her throat when he said the words and a wild tremor shook her kneeling frame while Nicos chuckled evilly.

Gemma rose, her eyes round with fear while she stared from one grinning Master to the other, then she moaned in anguish when Nicos spoke softly.

The two paint ball guns rose as one and the sight broke Gemma’s nerve completely. With a muffled scream of terror, she spun on her heel and raced away, sand spurting from beneath her flying feet and her breath rasping in her throat. Two low-pitched thuds sounded behind her and at the same instant Gemma felt soft, almost liquid impacts at the small of her back and on her right buttock. She twisted wildly and stared dazedly down at a patch of bright yellow staining her hip.

“Good shot, Steven! Dead centre. Now watch, it won’t take more than a few seconds.”

Gemma turned to run once more, but a strange lethargy seemed to steal over her, gripping her limbs as if she was trying to run through treacle. She took one pace, then another, but her legs would not obey the frantic commands of her brain and when she tried to take a third step, her legs crumpled and she fell in a flurry of sand. Face down, her brain screamed orders to her legs, but, somehow, the desperate messages never got through and her limbs remained immobile, paralysed by the near-instantaneous effects of the anaesthetic in the paint that stained her back and hip.

Casually, her Masters strolled over to their victim then rolled her onto her back and Gemma whimpered when her ankles were spread wide and knees bent upwards to leave her cruelly exposed and intensely vulnerable. Again and again, she tried madly to force her legs together to hide herself, but her body simply would not, could not, respond to her wishes and her terror grew as the absolute helplessness of her position was borne in upon her.

“An excellent preparation, this!” Nicos observed, “It paralyses the muscles, but leaves the nerve-endings in the flesh untouched. She will still feel everything that happens to her, but won’t be able to move.”

To prove his point, the dark haired Master slid his fingers between Gemma’s spread thighs and applied a firm caress to the drawn-back lips of the slave girl’s sex.

Gemma’s eyes bulged and a squeal of anguish lost itself in her huge gag, but her body remained perfectly still, clear proof that her paralysis was complete.

Steven reached to his waist and drew out his crop, then stared deep into Gemma’s eyes while he raised the whippy leather quirt, then still holding her gaze with his own, brought the crop down hard on the soft flesh of her inner thigh. The stinging impact brought a strangled scream from the slave girl’s throat, but even the pain could not break the paralysis which held her in thrall and she was forced to endure the flaring heat without even being able to wriggle to dissipate the anguish.

A second blow then a third drew burning red stripes across her defenceless skin and she screamed madly into her gag when the cruel leather punished her. The men looked down calmly, savouring the anguish written in her eyes and their knowledge that she was absolutely helpless to prevent them doing with her as they wished.

“I want to have her.” Steven grated and Gemma whimpered, as, before the cold eyes of Nicos, Steven tore off his trousers and positioned himself between her gaping thighs.

Unable to prevent it, she gasped as he seized her knees and spread her wider still, opening her helplessly to receive him then with a deep grunt of exertion and pleasure, he speared his rigid maleness deep into the soft warmth of her parted sex, plunging irresistibly to the very core of her belly while he took her with the full power and absolute dominance of his Mastery. Even as her eyes filled with the tears of shame and humiliation of her all-too-public ravishing, Gemma could not but submit to and accept the devastating arousal filling her belly while she was taken like the hot slave girl they had made her. Gemma’s sex squeezed and contracted instinctually as her body responded as it had been trained to do.
A first orgasm swept through Gemma, shaking her belly with boiling waves and she screamed in delirious ecstasy, her inability to move adding immeasurably to the furious passions raging deep within. She surrendered to one Master ... and the sight of Nicos, her other, gazing down at her subjugation with the certainty that he, too, was to have her when he chose, raised her shattering need to an even higher pitch.

Steven’s lunges grew still more fierce, his strong hands spreading her thighs until she feared he would split her apart, his maleness growing even more massive while he neared his peak. Gemma shrieked in horror and futile denial as Nicos bent to her breasts and took a gleaming nipple ring in each of his hands. Utterly at the mercy of her two Masters, driven beyond the limits of endurance, Gemma’s paralysed body shuddered wildly as jolts of unbearable arousal and flashes of exquisite pain radiated from her throbbing breasts and erect nipples when Nicos used his skilled fingers to add to the frenzied tumult of her total subjugation and brought her, teetering, to the brink of a second stupendous orgasm.

Buried deep in the bubbling heat of Gemma’s belly, Steven began to throb and twitch, then as his seed jetted into her and Nicos twirled her painfully hard nipples, Gemma hurtled over the precipice and was plunged into a second uncontrollable climax. Giant waves exploded into her belly to mix with the spurting pulses of her Master’s release and her eyes screwed tightly shut while her muffled whimpers and gasps told of the havoc wreaked within her mind.

Sated, for the moment, Steven rose to his feet and joined Nicos where he stood looking down at Gemma’s sweat-stained body.

“Oh yes! Indeed I do, but I shall let her recover from your ... ah ... attentions first. I wouldn’t want her to be too tired to serve me properly, now would I, eh, Steven?”

Both chuckled softly and Gemma’s flush deepened, knowing full well that, if her Master chose, she would be required to serve properly ... no matter how tired she was.

Her limbs began to tingle pleasantly and she realised that the paralysing effect of the paint balls was wearing off. Gemma flexed her fingers cautiously and Nicos nodded.

“Good. On your feet, slave girl. There are no after effects, so don’t even try to con us. Go on, walk ahead of me, back to the beach.”

Gemma rose and did as she was bid, astonished to find that she felt not the slightest trace of dizziness or nausea, then faltered when she heard Nicos say casually that, of course, there was no reason why a slave girl couldn’t be hunted and shot several times in a single day! Her momentary hesitation, when she took in the awful news, earned her a sharp flick of his riding crop and she flinched, instantly resuming her graceful walk when he snapped at her.

In a very few moments, she was back at the stand of small trees and her eyes opened wide when she saw Clarissa.

Gemma spread her legs, assuming the Display position as soon as she stopped, and stared anxiously at the scene before her.

Clarissa stood with her back to one of the trees, her arms cuffed behind and around its trunk and her ankles wide apart, roped to smaller trees on each side. Beaded with sweat, her full breasts and engorged nipples quivering, and with tell-tale dampness at the joint of her shapely thighs, it was quite obvious how her captor, Matthew, had amused himself since capturing the luscious redhead.

“Ah, there you are!” Matthew called jovially, “I was beginning to think that Gemma had escaped you.” He chuckled softly, “But, I see she did not and has paid the penalty.”

His pale blue eyes swept over Gemma’s stained and crop-striped body, smiling as she blushed and lowered her eyes from his gaze.

“No chance,. Steven replied briefly, “But what of your prize? The lovely Clarissa seems somewhat agitated and, dare I say it, unsatisfied, Matthew?”

“Mm. You’re quite right. I thought it might be amusing to make her wait for her ... ah ... final satisfaction until you both arrived.”

“Yes, so if you would care to secure Gemma then assist me, we can deal with Clarissa.”

Ordered to her belly, Gemma grimaced behind her gag when her left leg was bent and placed behind her right knee, then her right leg was doubled up, trapping her left. While Nicos held her leg, Steven dragged her cuffed wrists back and over her right ankle, tensioning her spine into a deeply arched bow.
When the two Masters released their grip, Gemma whimpered for the competing tensions of her bent spine and leg held her immobilised in a strained and exquisitely uncomfortable hogtie. Incapable of freeing herself or easing the immediate aching of her cruelly stressed body, she could only watch helplessly as all three of her Masters moved to Clarissa. Released from her standing spreadeagle and with her wrists then immediately locked behind her back, the naked redhead shook her head when the ropes tied to her ankles were thrown over a branch high above and, as one Master supported her slim shoulders, the others pulled steadily.

Twisting in futile impotence, Clarissa fought against the ropes dragging her ankles upwards and apart, but was no match for her captors and, in moments, dangled head down and hugely spread from the branch; long red hair brushing the grass beneath as she swayed to and fro, frantic with the misery of her position. Gemma, watching, shuddered in sympathy, knowing Clarissa’s absolute vulnerability and horribly aware that it was only by chance that it was the redhead and not herself who was offered to the three men in a similar manner.

Matthew walked behind his love slave, out of her sight, and Gemma gasped when he drew his cruel riding crop from his belt.

The suspended redhead gave a muffled scream and her body twisted wildy when fingers seized her defenceless breasts and stroked between her gaping thighs, but her own body weight held her and she could not avoid the blistering arousal being imposed. The long muscles of her thighs corded beneath the smooth skin and her breasts quivered helplessly when renewed desire flooded through her body. Her eyes bulged above her gag with desperate need while the assault overwhelmed her.

Timing his blow with merciless precision, Matthew, sent his crop hissing across her presented buttocks’ the sharp crack blending with Clarissa’s squeal of agonised ecstasy as furious heat erupted in her flesh, to mix with devastating arousal and send her spinning into a frenzy of submissive lust. The crop rose and felt again, then again and the belly of the shuddering redhead contracted in huge convulsions as she was forced into a shattering climax, pulsing and spasming frantically while she was made to surrender to the irresistible power of her Masters. Matthew nodded his grey head in satisfaction and joined his companions while they smiled down at the trembling body and anguished eyes of their victim.

“Thank you, my friends!” he chuckled, “And now it is time for my slave girl to repay the pleasure she has received.” Then he addressed himself to the suspended nude, “You will now pleasure me, Clarissa.” he said firmly, “After that you will pleasure my friends, if that is what they wish. Do you understand, slave girl?”

Clarissa’s throat worked as he spoke, then she forced her head to nod in obedience.

“Good! Do not disappoint us!” and he allowed the tip of his crop to trail down the inside of her left thigh, the threat crystal clear to both Clarissa and the watching Gemma. Steven bent and unbuckled the gag, pulling it from her mouth and she licked her dry lips while Matthew released his maleness and slowly approached her.

Subjugated and under threat of punishment, Clarissa opened her jaws wide, her red lips forming a perfect “O” when his flesh slid deep into her mouth, gagging her in the most intimate of manners. Her eyes widened when he took a half step forward, then another, her suspended body unable to withdraw, forcing her to take the entire length of him into her mouth so that his erection bulged her cheeks while she struggled to accommodate his growing girth. His hands gripped her crop-striped buttocks tightly, holding her face at his groin.

His lips descended to the engorged, shining wet recesses of her exposed sex and Clarissa squealed breathily through her nose when his lips found her and her own bulging mouth worked desperately to please him as she had been commanded. Her eyes betrayed a mixture of fear and desire while she struggled and with her eyes rivetted on the scene before her, acutely aware of a growing warmth in her own belly as she concentrated on Clarissa’s efforts to please a Master, Gemma temporarily forgot that she was not simply a spectator of the redhead’s erotic subjugation.

A strong hand descended on her buttocks, spreading the taut globes of her bottom cheeks and she whinnied into her gag, outraged, when a probing finger found the puckered ring of her anal passage, pressing insistently against her resisting flesh. She turned her head to the left, her eyes sparkling with anger and met the hard gaze of Master Nicos.

“Defiance of a Master is not permitted, slave.” he whispered coldly and his free hand burrowed beneath her arched body to find her breast.

Gemma gasped when his fingers captured her nipple to send arousal racing through her captive body, then gasped again when he tweaked her nipple ring and a sharp stab of pain jolted through her breast and nipple.

“Defiance is not permitted, slave girl.” he said again, “You have two choices. Surrender ... or take the consequences of your resistance. But I shall be kind. You have three seconds. One ... Two ...”

Gemma shivered helplessly, feeling his fingers at the ring through her nipple; knowing that with a simple flick he could force her to do whatever he wished, no matter how awful or shaming. With a strangled sob, she surrendered to the inevitable and forced her bottom cheeks to relax, her face glowing red when she heard his triumphant chuckle.

“How very sensible, slave girl!” he mocked and his extended finger drove deep into her back passage, bringing a groan from her throat and intensifying her embarrassment.

He released her nipple ring, but Gemma’s relief was short-lived for he then forced it too between her doubled thighs and began to caress the lips of her sex. Despite herself, the hogtied brunette began to respond and as her arousal grew, she began to writhe as best she could, rocking back and forth on her belly and breasts.

Above and behind Nicos grinned cruelly. She really was a hot little package and soon he intended to make her please him just as Clarissa was pleasuring her Master. Toying as he chose with Gemma’s body, he was in no hurry and raised his eyes to savour the moment of Clarissa’s humbling. Gasping for breath, her lips clamped around his rigid shaft, the redhead trembled each time Matthew lunged forward, his release almost upon him. His fingers dug into her shapely bottom, welding her face to his groin and he gave a massive thrust. A second, then a third, and Clarissa swallowed furiously while wave after wave of scalding love juices shot into her mouth and throat when she succeeded in her task and her Master gave a great groan of pleasure.

Gemma, too, saw her slave sister’s success and her own arousal, already burning like a furnace from the fingers at her belly and bottom, zoomed even higher when she saw her own fate in the redhead’s submission. But then, as Matthew slipped from Clarissa’s mouth, Gemma froze in terror. Master Steven strode forward, his fingers already tugging at the zip of his trousers and Gemma realised that there was to be no respite for Clarissa ... and, by implication, none for her either. Stunned, the brunette groaned when Clarissa’s lips opened once more to receive Steven, but then her fears focussed sharply on herself when Nicos took his fingers from her body and he crouched in front of her.

“Mustn’t let Clarissa have all the fun, must we, slave girl?” he joked. “Time you had some! I take it you’d rather not join her, eh?” He gestured at the upside down redhead.

“Very well, then you had better behave! When I let you go, walk to that tree and kneel down with your ankles on each side of the trunk.” He moved ‘round to her side and Gemma winced when he forced her right ankle down towards her buttocks and unhooked her wrists, then stood back to allow her to recover flexibility in her limbs.

“Over to the tree, slave.” he ordered, but as Gemma rose and took the first step, Master Steven caught her eye and gave a cruel laugh.

“You’re next, slave girl.” he called, “Just as soon as we finish with Clarissa.”

Gemma stared at him ... and panicked, then with a moan of sheer terror, she took to her heels and bolted, reason and logic forgotten as she stumbled through the scrub towards the beach, her only thought to get to the boat and escape the terrible island.

“Stop, you silly bitch! Come back!” the shout came from behind and was followed by the sound of pounding footsteps.

Breath roared in Gemma’s ears and she raced on, but even while she ran, her eyes misted with tears when she remembered, far too late, that her arms were still locked behind her and she wouldn’t be able to start the boat’s engine, even if she managed to stay ahead of her pursuers long enough to reach it
The end was inevitable and came when a paint ball hit her shoulder. Twenty seconds later, Gemma lay paralysed on the white sand, unable to move when her pursuer, Nicos, rolled her onto her back and stood grinning down.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” he told her, “Where did you think you could run to? You never had a chance, you little fool. Now everyone in The Consortium will know that you tried to escape and will be that much stricter with your bondage and control. That’s all your fault so you will just have to put up with it, won’t you?”

He bent and took Gemma under the arms, then straightened up, carrying her belly down over his shoulder; her head hanging down his back and her legs dangling limply, through the thin screen of trees to where her freedom bid had begun, then dropped her, sprawling, to the grass.

Clarissa, released from her suspension, lay trembling gently on her side; ankles tied together and while the three men stood over Gemma’s immobile body, the redhead stared anxiously at her sister in bondage, wondering just what punishment would be imposed on the brunette for daring to attempt an escape. She was not left in doubt for long, for after a brief discussion they lifted Gemma, carried her over to a sturdy tree and while two supported her limp frame, the third released her wrists, re-secured them around the tree, then carefully arranged her breasts so that one lay on each side of the trunk, and used a short piece of rope to link her nipple rings. Her knees were then spread in the same manner and tied securely. Gemma’s eyes rolled wildly as her entire body hugged the coarse bark then came further ropes at her waist, shoulders and tops of her thighs, pressing her into an ever more intimate embrace with the unforgiving wood. Gemma could not even scream when Nicos pronounced sentence upon her.

“Slaves who attempt to escape are punished. You attempted such an escape and will be disciplined accordingly. Each of when he checked to see whether it had.

“Five more minutes.” he announced calmly and the brunette’s brain quailed in anticipation of the punishment soon to be inflicted.

And yet, as the minutes dragged slowly by and feeling returned to her limbs, Gemma could not control the masochistic heat which slowly built in her belly and sex while she awaited the discipline of her Masters. Trained, schooled and conditioned over many months to be the perfect slave girl of all and any Masters, Gemma had been taught to be helplessly responsive to both caresses. The whip and her body would betray her desperate longings even while she screamed vain pleas for mercy. She would not be able to help herself, would have to endure as best she could the agony of her punishment ... but, far worse than the cropping, she knew she would have to endure the searing, overwhelming desires unleashed in her defenceless body by the combination of her punishment, her Masters’ hands upon her and the submissive passions of her own nature, already seething and bubbling deep inside her. Gemma knew and understood that she was, truly, a slave girl.

Nicos thrust a hand between her thighs and drew it back, slick with her juices while Gemma quivered in her bonds.

The first crop rose, hovered for a moment, then fell with a brisk crack of leather and Gemma, under punishment, howled into her gag when heat blazed across her right buttock. Immediately a second stripe painted her left cheek and she squealed again, then again when a third scored across her thigh. Three more followed in quick succession, then hands rolled her rigid nipples and invaded her sex, penetrating her unmercifully while she threw her head back in utter submission and her love juices flowed in torrents into her belly and over the fingers of her tormentors.

Unable to move without causing herself pain, Gemma gabbled wordless pleas into her gag as she surrendered abjectly. Pleas to be shown mercy, to be untied, to be allowed to please all of them in any way they desired, to be obedient, to submit willingly, to grovel at their feet, anything, if only they would take pity on her.

The punishment began again and Gemma shrieked in total despair, realising that she could offer her Masters nothing that they could not forcibly extract from her. Indeed, nothing that they did not already possess, for she was their slave girl and must ... must and would give them everything. She could not, would not be permitted, to hold back even the smallest thing, for they owned her. Owned her totally and completely; dominated every aspect of her very existence, controlled her with a power that was terrifyingly absolute and hugely, uncontrollably, erotic.

One of the men drove irresistibly into her belly, his erection massive and iron hard and Gemma orgasmed explosively, her love juices foaming down around him while he took her brutally, pinning her to the tree trunk. It was easy for him to exert his full strength and drive her into a second gigantic climax when his seed jetted into her pulsing belly, to mix with the swirling juices of her submission.

Devastated, Gemma sagged in her bonds when he pulled from her, but the ordeal was not yet over and she sobbed, wept and screamed when the final burning strokes of her punishment turned her bottom into an inferno of blistering heat, matching the bubbling cauldron within her seething belly.

A hand knotted in Gemma’s hair and tugged cruelly, forcing her head back until her tear-streaked face stared helplessly upwards into the hard, remorseless gaze of Nicos.

“A foolish mistake, slave,” he said coldly, “for which you have only just begun to pay. Soon, I promise you, you will regret your actions even more than you do already.” He held his riding crop before her terrified eyes and gave a mirthless smile. “You are frightened of this, aren’t you, slave girl, because you now know what it can do, don’t you?” and he nodded slowly, hearing her soft whimpers, “But a crop can do more, much more, if a Master chooses.”

For a long moment, Gemma froze, then her eyes widened in shocked understanding and her pinioned body gave a great shudder. Nicos grinned and released Gemma’s hair and she shook her head slowly, disbelievingly, when she realised what he had in mind, her buttocks and thighs tensing frantically against her bonds while she fought to close her gaping thighs. In vain.

Gently, with calculated cruelty, the braided leather handle of a crop insinuated itself between the wetly glistening lips of her engorged labia and as it did so, her belly gave a convulsive judder of unbearable arousal. Powerless to prevent or avoid the unwanted stimulation, Gemma knew she was lost and while her belly shook and trembled on the brink of orgasm, she screamed in the anguish of a slave girl forced to submit to the shameful humiliation of climaxing to the whip. Bound in total exposure, responding wildly to the caress of leather, Gemma climaxed with awesome power, unable to resist or control the masochistic lusts unleashed within her while the whip exerted its Mastery and huge pulses of love juices sprayed into her belly.

Subjugated to the ultimate degree, Gemma wept softly while her Masters savoured her utter defeat, knowing as they knew, that only a true submissive would surrender as she had ... deeply, helplessly, uncontrollably ... and worst of all for her ... willingly.

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