G2-Story-036-Gemma-Pt-7

The broad leather straps bolted to the walls of the transport crate held Gemma's nude body immobilised and she had long since given up her futile efforts to escape their implacable grip on her limbs. Brought on the deck of her Master's yacht soon after sunrise, Gemma had wisely not attempted to make even the smallest protest when she was positioned in the crate and secured for her journey and was then in no position to resist as, after checking the tightness of each strap personally, Nicos produced a leather helmet and informed her that he had decided to increase the security of her incarceration. The isolation hood, he said, would ensure no further foolishness on her part, for it was to be locked upon her and could not be removed without the key ... of which he held one, and the other was at her destination. Even if Gemma were to succeed in freeing her limbs ... a most unlikely event he felt ... she would remain hooded with no chance of making a successful escape.

Gemma stared miserably up at him, knowing he had no reason to lie to her and licked dry lips nervously when he brought the hood towards her.

"Open your mouth." he commanded sternly and when Gemma obeyed, she felt the supple leather pressed against her face while a thick, hard gag sank deep between her jaws and at the same time, dense leather-covered foam pads sealed themselves over her eyes and ears. A long metal zip was drawn down from the crown of her head to the nape of her neck so that the helmet was immediately moulded to the contours of her face and Gemma whimpered with silenced misery when every chink of light was excluded. Her world became dark and utterly silent apart from the sound of her own breathing while she sucked air in through two small holes at her nostrils ... the only apertures in the hood.

To add to her distress, a strap tightened over her stretched lips, forcing the large gag deeper still and a second encircled her neck snugly, removing any possibility of her somehow slipping or rubbing off the hood against anything. There was a brief pressure at the two straps and two clicks, these felt rather than heard, telling Gemma her that padlocks now secured the hood and she trembled, imagining how she must look to any watchers: naked, tightly bound, her head encased in featureless black leather, locked straps imprisoning her in a silent world, totally defenceless and hopelessly vulnerable to the slightest whim of anyone chancing to open the crate.

Exactly how defenceless and vulnerable she had become was driven home to her some time later when roughened hands captured her breasts and delved between her spread legs, toying with her, probing her innermost recesses and arousing her mercilessly. She gasped and screamed into her gag, her body on fire with instantaneous need that she could do nothing to satisfy.

Driven into a sexual frenzy, vibrating with pent-up lust and needing only a touch to send her hurtling into a longed-for climax, Gemma wept in black despair when an orgasm was denied her. With calculated cruelty, the hands left her to tremble on the brink of release, her unknown tormentors choosing not to give what she needed so desperately, and Gemma, a slave girl under punishment, felt the crate being sealed and lifted as her journey began. She was fearfully aware that her journey would end upon her delivery to Masters and they knew of her attempt to escape. It was their task to re-impose discipline and absolute unquestioning obedience.

Some unknown time later she was aware of her mobile prison being lifted, moved then set down and, as on each previous occasion, she steeled herself for the crate to be opened. For the third time, nothing happened and she moaned in relief and frustration, almost wishing that the awful tension of her ignorance had been replaced with something concrete, even if that meant the crops and orders and discipline of being retrained.

Drained by the uncertainty and stringent discomfort of her bondage, she fell into a shallow, uneasy doze, only to be awakened by the snap of clips through the rings that transfixed her nipples, then she felt the chill touch of steel chain against her trembling breast flesh. Icy fear gripped her belly and she trembled fearfully when she realised that she was still helplessly bound, still hooded and unable to protect her presented nudity.

Confident hands began to release the straps which had held Gemma so efficiently for her journey, but, having been immobilised for so long, her limbs were cramped and weak and she was quite unable to move for several minutes ... until the Owner, or Owners of the hands grew impatient and began to apply tension to the leashing chains clipped to her nipple rings, forcing the aching, wincing brunette to crawl blindly out of the crate. On all fours, blind and deaf inside her isolation hood and horribly aware of the threat presented by her leashed breasts, Gemma forced her body onto her knees and arched her spine in a display of complete submission when her wrists were grasped, drawn behind her back and their irremovable wrist cuffs were locked together.

Her breast leashes suddenly tightened cruelly and Gemma rose awkwardly to her feet, her howl of pained anguish lost in her gag while she helplessly obeyed, able only to obey as exactly as she could, the signals transmitted directly to her tender nipples, with not even the remotest possibility of resistance or escape.

Forward and back, around and around she stumbled, terrorised in her blindness and the instant, painful retribution visited upon her breasts when, inevitably, she failed to read the signal correctly or was too slow in her obedience to its message. Desperate to please her unknown tormentors, Gemma raised herself on tip-toe, stretching her body frantically when her leash rose, holding herself painfully upright for as long as the pull on the thick nipple rings demanded, in her efforts to obey ... then sank to her knees and pressed her face to the floor when the chains pulled downwards to force her belly and breasts to the carpet. It was done over and over again in a merciless demonstration of power until Gemma's body ached and protested, her nipples painfully swollen and sore and her brain numb with the horror and despair. She could not help but be completely aware of her absolute subjugation to the tyranny of her chains and those who held them.

Forced once more to her belly, she shuddered in misery when her legs were doubled tight to her buttocks and the chains brought around her hips and locked to her ankles, securing her face down and unable to move. A knowing hand between her spread thighs applied devastating caresses to her labia and clitoris, sending unbearable and unwanted arousal surging into Gemma's sex and she screamed shrilly when the fires of unsated lust once more ignited in her belly. Violent shudders shook her and she screamed again when her uncontrollable response tightened the chains to her nipples, sending jolts of additional and painful arousal through her until she wept and sobbed and begged, not knowing whether she begged for the torment to stop ... or for it to continue to the orgasm so nearly upon her. She was given no choice. The stimulation ceased abruptly and Gemma groaned in misery, well aware of the lesson of her anguish. She was under discipline, only a slave girl in training, and it was not for her to control the levels of her pain ... or pleasure. Those decisions and those choices were not hers to make ... they belonged to her Masters and it was them and only them who would decide what she was to be permitted to experience. Left alone with her despair, hungry, thirsty and seething with unsatisfied sexual need, Gemma had no option but to re-learn the harsh lessons of her enslavement.

When they eventually returned to unlock the isolation hood and peel it away from her head, it was a thoroughly demoralised and frightened Gemma who raised her anxious eyes to her captors and the sight which greeted her while she rose to her knees and displayed her body did nothing to allay her fears. Two fully dressed, anonymous men, their faces hidden behind black leather masks, their eyes and mouths hidden behind perforated leather covers, stared down at her, each holding one of the chains clipped to her nipple rings in one hand, and a Devil's Palm in the other.

The taller of the two was a huge man who Gemma thought was probably Master Axel and the other, female, was most likely Mistress Lydia, but Gemma could not be absolutely sure. Even if she was right, the knowledge that she was in the hands of the two most demanding and cruel members of The Consortium, gave her no cause for rejoicing.

"You have not been pleasing to Masters, slave girl! You are here to put that failing right."

"It is not wise for slave girls to be unsatisfactory," the voice of the woman was equally distorted, "as you are about to discover."

Gemma gulped and opened her mouth to beg for forgiveness, but a cruel tweak of the chain fastened to her right breast forestalled her, changing her unspoken plea to a gasp of pained anguish.

"You will remain silent at all times, slave! If you are required to speak, you will be ordered to do so. Understand?"

The order was given in a chilling hiss and Gemma shivered, understanding only too well. Her re-training then began and as she arched, stretched and bent her sweating body into the many graceful, fluid and shamefully exposed positions of a slave girl's submission, Gemma found to her cost, that simple obedience was not sufficient to satisfy her Masters. Perfection in every movement, every offered curve of her body, the angle of her head and neck, even the expressions on her face, was demanded. Demanded, and enforced ruthlessly, with each perceived failure on her part punished with tweaks of her nipple rings and stinging slaps of the Devil's Palm to her naked, trembling flesh, until her buttocks and thighs and belly smarted with tingling heat and the tears ran down her cheeks even as their commands sent her from one humiliating pose to the next.

Struggling with every fibre of her being to please them and avoid further punishment, Gemma used all of her skill and feminine wiles she possessed to display her beauty in the most sensual way possible, pointing her toes, hollowing her back, holding her neck to show off the slim curve of her throat and thrusting her hips and belly forward to present herself in the most erotic and provocative ways she knew.

Heat rose in Gemma's belly and her sex grew slick with moist desire as her own submissive display aroused her, encouraging her to greater efforts and a still more lascivious exhibition of subjugation. Nor were her Masters immune to the all too available charms, but they, mindful of their duty to discipline an errant slave, ordered her to adopt the punishment position. On her knees, forehead pressed to the carpet, thighs widely spread and with her wrists still secured behind her back, Gemma's upraised buttocks and the damp entry to her sex provided an irresistible target for both discipline and pleasure. It was a target of which her Masters took full and unfair advantage.

No longer daring to make the smallest movement which might be taken as disobedience or resistance, Gemma's smoothly rounded buttocks quivered and reddened while Devil's Palms cracked down, each pair of stinging impacts followed by merciless arousal when the fingers of her Masters explored and probed her until her sex and thighs glistened with silver droplets of love juices. She could not prevent moans of desperate need forcing their way past her clenched teeth, nor the uncontrollable jerking of her body when she was driven far beyond the limits of self-control.

Gemma's sweating, sex-stained body stiffened into rigidity when a massive, rock hard erection drove into her, impaling and penetrating to the very core of her belly, to trigger a gigantic climax when she surrendered instantly, great tearing convulsions shaking her furiously when she came. Buried deep in her seething belly and surrounded by the pulsing heat of her passion, her Master's shaft grew larger still, filling her and pounding into the wet channel of Gemma's sex until her lips drew back in a silent scream of absolute submission. Her belly contorted again and again to thundering wave upon wave of the mind-boggling orgasms forced from her helplessly responding female flesh.

Lost in a whirlpool of sexual frenzy and subjugation, Gemma whimpered in abject misery when her Master withdrew and her brain reeled with terror when she realised that he had not reached orgasm, despite the chaos and devastation inflicted upon her. Taken as a slave and forced to exhibit the uttermost depths of her heat by a Master who knew well how to extract the ultimate degree of sexual servitude from a slave, Gemma quailed with the knowledge of the power that he, or any other Master, exerted over her. It was a power that they would not hesitate to use against her.

Spasming to the aftermath of the orgasm racking her body, Gemma collapsed into a panting, gasping huddle when the woman's hard voice gave her permission to relax, and she lay limp and exhausted, prey to her awful fears when she felt her ankle cuffs locked together and her captors left the room where she lay twitching.

Time passed slowly while Gemma recovered from her ordeal and as she did so, other discomforts began to make themselves known. She ached all over, her bottom throbbed with the memory of the Devil's Palms and she was extremely thirsty and hungry ... but there was nothing she could do about any of them. Thankfully, her Masters had no intention of letting such a valuable commodity as a slave girl come to harm through lack of food and water and it was not too long before they returned to place two shallow bowls before her.

Greatly hampered by her bound wrists and ankles, Gemma eventually managed to rise and her face flushed a dull red when they made no move to release her cuffs.

"Eat!" the repeated order was accompanied by a cursory flick of a Devil's Palm across her bottom and Gemma knew she must obey.

Under the watchful gaze of her hooded captors the bound brunette bent forward until her lips sank into the thick stew in the first bowl, meat juice and gravy smearing her face while she lapped and swallowed ravenously. The bowl licked clean, Gemma transferred her attentions to the second dish, sucking up the cool, delicious water and in the process, cleaning at least some of the stew from her face. They watched without comment, then removed the bowls.

"You are here to be re-trained to be pleasing, slave girl. In the days to come, that is exactly what you will do. Failure will not be tolerated."

With that, they strode from the room leaving Gemma to speculate anxiously on when and how and not least, who she would be required to please? With her wrists locked behind her back and her head clamped tightly between the muscular thighs of her Mistress, Gemma was busily engaged in pleasuring the woman when she heard the door open and realised that they were no longer alone. The knowledge brought a scarlet flush to her face, but she knew that any attempt on her part to withdraw her lips from the aroused dominant's body would not only be doomed to failure, but would earn her a punishment. Gemma crushed the immediate humiliation she felt and continued to nibble delicately at the hardened nub of her Mistress's clitoris and run her tongue up and down the moist, engorged lips of the woman's sex.

Mistress Lydia, if it was her, gave a deep sigh of pleasure and the grip of her thighs tightened when she neared her climax and Gemma redoubled her efforts; lips and tongue working busily until she was rewarded by the pulsing of the woman's belly against her face and tasted the warm, salty gush of love juices on her tongue. The thighs released their grip on Gemma's head when the Mistress relaxed, but when the slave girl straightened her back, a deep masculine voice spoke from behind her.

"Quite good, slave. Now, turn around and come to me on your knees and we'll see if you can pleasure a Master equally as well."

Gemma gulped nervously and turned towards the voice, well aware that she dare not show the slightest hesitation or reluctance ... and froze as she saw the small group which had entered the room while she had been giving pleasure to her Mistress.

The giant Master, Axel, face hooded, stood at the door, his arms folded casually as he waited for her to come to him, and to his left, a second Master, a smaller man, also anonymous in his black hood. Gemma knew immediately that the second man was Master Steven, for at his feet knelt a small, black-haired, naked slave girl. A wide, glittering steel collar encased her slim neck, her full breasts out thrust by the tension of what Gemma knew must be extremely tight bonds on her arms and her mouth was held wide open by a steel ring wedged behind her teeth; held in place by a thin black leather gag strap.

Once Steven's lover and equal, she had made the fatal error of agreeing to kneel before him and declare herself his slave. The lovely brunette had not realised what such a declaration meant to a man like Steven and Gemma remembered vividly Helena's complete shock and disbelief when her ex-lover ... her new Master ... snapped steel handcuffs on her wrists and ankles, gagged her and then cropped her for disobedience. Helena had not known at that time that she was to be fully enslaved ... but she knew now and it was clear in her wide, frightened eyes, in the submissive posture of her displayed body ... and by the mesh of faded pink crop marks adorning her spread thighs. Gemma had last seen Helena being crated to be sent off for training, and from the looks of things now the smaller girl had obviously been taught ruthlessly. Gemma could feel for her, remembering her own hard training.

Her sympathy for Helena vanished when Axel's foot tapped ominously and she hurried on her knees to obey his command, her face blushing redly while she remembered that she had not only been seen pleasuring her Mistress, but that she would now have to do the same for a Master, with Steven and Helena watching. Her enforced obedience would be a graphic, object lesson for the petite brunette and Gemma knew that Helena could hardly fail to understand its crystal clear message. In fact, she would not be permitted to misunderstand, or to deny the reality that for her, as for Gemma, complete, instant and unquestioning submission to a Master's will was the unavoidable consequence of her enslavement.

There was and would be no going back, no escape, for either of them and Helena would be compelled, by force if necessary, to face and accept the sexual subjugation enforced by her ex-lover and other members of The Consortium imposed upon her. Kneeling at the feet of her giant Master, Gemma arched her body and displayed herself for his pleasure, intensely aware of all the eyes feasting on her nudity. Axel nodded slowly, then his hand went to his crotch and pulled down his zip to reveal his large, semi-erect maleness.

"Please me, slave girl!" he ordered harshly and Gemma, not wishing to risk punishment, bent forward immediately and began to kiss and lick the thick shaft before her.

The abilities learned over many months of captivity had not deserted her and his flesh quivered and stiffened to her skilful ministrations, his erection soon jutting directly at her in response to her efforts. Gemma's soft lips parted to receive him and she gasped, nostrils flaring; cheeks bulging to encompass the full length and girth of his aroused manhood, her tongue working busily at her task. With her face pressed firmly against the coarse pubic hair of Axel's groin, she heard Steven's throaty chuckle.

"There, Helena. You see. That is how a fully trained slave girl serves. Now it is your turn to serve and I do hope you won't disappoint me. In fact, my sweet, I'm quite sure you won't ... unless, of course, you want another taste of the crop."

From the corner of her eye, Gemma caught a brief glimpse of Helena's anguished face when Steven unzipped his trousers, then the slim brunette's head was pulled forward and down and her wordless cry of protest died in a spluttering cough as she was gagged by her Steven’s rigid flesh. Side by side, the two helpless girls struggled to please their ruthless Owners, the silence of the room broken only by the ragged hiss of their breathing and the grunts of the men while they savoured the delicious stimulation of female lips and tongues building them towards climax.

Axel reached his peak first and clamped Gemma's head tightly to his belly with his huge hands while his seed jetted into her mouth and her throat worked convulsively when he made her swallow every drop before allowing her to take her lips from his body.

Sitting back on her heels with her spine erect, in display position, and panting from her exertions, Gemma could only watch in sympathy while the inexperienced Helena was subjected to the same treatment by her Master. Steven's hips pumped to the release of his spend, and she knew exactly how shamed and horrified the lovely brunette must feel when she again learned the true extent of the power that was held over her. Steven stepped back from his weeping slave and Helena shuddered, bowing her head in a futile effort to hide the glistening stains at her chin and neck. Gemma recognised the error immediately and knew that Helena would not be allowed the luxury of modesty. Nor was she, for a Devil's Palm cracked across Helena's buttocks and a brusque command compelled her to straighten her back and offer her trembling body as the slave she truly was. Another command sent both slaves to their bellies and ropes were snaked around their ankles before their legs were doubled to hogtie them.

Gemma and Helena were each tightly gagged and the two tightly bound captives stared miserably at each other when the two men, joined by the woman, strolled casually from the room. Sisters in their bondage and shared discomfort, Gemma and Helena could only offer and take what reassurance they could from each other by muffled grunts and eye contact, but it was some small comfort to both to know that the other was there and in the same helpless plight, even though neither could do anything to help the other. At one point when Helena's eyes filled with tears and she whimpered in despair, Gemma managed to roll over and bring her head next to Helena's, succeeding in making her cheek brush gently against that of the weeping brunette, and it was worth the effort to Gemma to see the smaller girl fight to control her fear and give a weak, tremulous smile around her gag in grateful thanks. An hour passed before Steven returned, chuckling when he saw the two bound girls nestled cheek to cheek, then he bent to Gemma.

"Thank you, slave girl," he said softly, "for looking after my little slave while I was away. And, of course, for your demonstration. I'm sure she would like to thank you, but as she can't, I will."

He rolled her onto her back and his hands went to Gemma's defenceless taunt breasts then caressed her nipples to quivering rigidity, chuckling when the heavy little bells attached to her nipple rings tinkled prettily. He transferred his gaze from Gemma's breasts to Helena's and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I must say that I really like your bells, Gemma. I shall have to have a talk with Lydia. Would you like that, Helena? How do you fancy being pierced and belled just like Gemma?"

Helena's wide, pleading eyes and shrill squeal made it perfectly plain just how much she did not like the idea ... and her realisation that if he wished to have her pierced and ringed, then that was exactly what would be done. He nodded sharply.

Helena closed her eyes, trembling when her Master made his decision: one which would have major and permanent consequences for her, but in which she had no say. He released her ankles and lifted her to her feet, gripping her elbow with one hand, he gave a cheery wave to Gemma with his other.

He marched his lovely captive to the door and was gone, leaving Gemma haplessly aroused with no chance of satisfaction. It was a situation she became unhappily very familiar with over the next two days while Axel and Lydia combined their amusement with her disciplining by mixing frequent arousal of her bound nudity with still more frequent punishment. Gemma despaired of ever satisfying their demands for perfection in her obedience and submission and feared that she would never again be allowed to quench the burning heat constantly bubbling in her belly, until the moment Mistress Lydia informed her that she had a visitor who wished to check on the progress of her re-training and might, just might, want to use her for his pleasure.

Helpless prey to the furious need so carefully nurtured in her, Gemma could not control the immediate moistening of her groin and tell-tale hardening of her nipples when her body responded to the prospect of a long-awaited release and her face reddened when Mistress Lydia spotted the unmistakable signals of her desire and chuckled coldly.

"Randy little slave!" the dominant sneered, "You really want it, don't you? Well perhaps if you display your delicious little body sexily enough, maybe you might get what you want."

Gemma nodded urgently, beyond shame, her whole body consumed with passion and overwhelming lust, no longer caring what she had to do to get what she must have, or even who the visitor might be. It was enough that he held the power to extinguish the flames of her enforced need. Mistress Lydia gave a cruel laugh and went to the door of the cell and Gemma sat back on her heels then spread her thighs as wide as she could; arching her spine backwards until her head touched the floor behind.

Displayed in the most vulnerable exposure possible ... and of her own volition ... Gemma offered the entire sweetly curved bow of her body to a Master, her throat, breasts, belly and sex all presented in the most humble, sensual and ultimately submissive exhibition of her slavery it was in her power to make. While she awaited the arrival of her Master, Gemma shivered with anticipation and anxiety, intensely aware of warm currents of air caressing the taut flesh of her breasts and belly, and of the slow ooze of her own love juices from the wet-slick pink-ness of her sex. She could do no more and knew she must endure the awful uncertainty until a Master, as always, made a decision about her fate. Heavy masculine footsteps entered the room and the bells at Gemma's ringed nipples tinkled musically while she was subjected to a long, silent scrutiny, her already blisteringly hot arousal zooming higher when he savoured her proffered nudity. He no doubt fully understood the intensity of the desire that had forced her to abase herself before him. He moved closer and Gemma gulped when she saw that he, just like her other Masters, wore a hood concealing his features.

From her lowly position, arched beautifully at his feet, he towered over her and she saw that he was quite tall and of medium build, but other than that, he could have been any of her Masters: Steven, Nicos, Matthew, or even Roxwell.

She simply couldn't tell and shivered sensually, wondering which of them it was...but then her eyes widened to another horrifyingly exciting possibility. What if it wasn't any of them? What if it was a stranger, brought in to put her to the ultimate test of her re-training and obedience? Could she submit herself fully and willingly to a man she did not even know, simply because it was the will of her Masters that she should? Gemma's brain raced, but then he stooped between her gaping thighs and his fingers caressed the swollen lips of her engorged sex and instantly, all of her thoughts, all of her fears, were submerged in a tornado of frenzied lust when incandescent arousal stormed through her displayed nudity, driving out every vestige of reason. Gemma was left to squeal breathily, her body shuddering with intense need, able only to respond helplessly to the ecstatic rapture created by his hands on, and in, her.

A first tremendous orgasm exploded into her belly, drowning her in overwhelming physical pleasure and she clenched her teeth, fighting to hold her self-imposed position while scalding billows of love juices flooded into her sex and over his probing, devastating fingers. Lost in the fury of immediate surrender, Gemma whimpered piteously when his fingers left her, then whimpered again as they slid between her parted lips and she tasted the salt tang of her own body's outpourings. Out of control, she sucked and lapped at the slick wetness coating his fingers, deliciously aware of the exquisitely submissive implications of her action, but not caring what it betrayed about her or her passions. One hand returned to her belly, igniting further fires within her, while the other tore at his clothing, his efforts urged on by Gemma's wordless cries, until he was ready to take her.

His hands seized her buttocks, raising her, and she screamed in delirious welcome when his rigid, iron hard member speared to the core of her being, penetrating and filling her with the strength and power of his masculinity, her body pinned helplessly beneath his weight. Quivering to each thrust as he took her ruthlessly, Gemma's belly spasmed again and again while continuous orgasms crashed through both her body and mind, the pulsing of her climaxes driving him on to greater and greater exertions until both he and she were bathed in sweat, gasping for breath while he forced her to submit unconditionally to his dominance.

His strong fingers dug into Gemma's trembling buttocks as he gathered himself for the final climactic lunge and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut when he reached his peak, sending powerful, foaming jets of his seed into the seething maelstrom of her convulsing belly. Gemma's spine arched in unbearable ecstasy, her internal muscles clamping vice-like around his pumping shaft as yet another climax broke over her and she writhed madly beneath his hard, muscular body in the throes of her own red hot passion, grinding her pelvis against his to extract the last milligram of ultimate pleasure from their shared release.

Exhausted, she collapsed bonelessly in the aftermath of her intense orgasms and lay panting as mini-explosions continued to rack and shake her body, until, after an unknown time, the convulsions began to ease. The man, without question her Master, pulled from her limp body and she gazed up at him humbly, understanding just how totally he had dominated her. She lay still trembling, replaying in her mind's eye the sheer ecstasy of her surrender to his irresistible male strength and the thrilling ruthlessness of his ravaging of her defenceless flesh.

In short moments he was again fully dressed, then prodded her hip with the toe of his shoe and Gemma rolled onto her belly, ashamed to find herself feeling renewed arousal at his arrogant assumption of her unquestioning obedience ... and even more ashamed of her own submissive acceptance of the casual authority. When he re-locked her wide, tight ankle cuffs together, Gemma shivered to the realisation that her re-training had succeeded all too well ... far too well for her peace of mind, and her belly coiled with delicious, liquid heat. She knew that the merest touch of a Master's hand would be enough ... more than enough ... to send her spinning back into a vortex of lust, sexual arousal and masochistic subjugation, just as the fiercely hot, helplessly responsive slave girl she was trained and disciplined to be.

It was something Gemma knew, despite all logic, all common sense, all caution and all reason, that in her heart of hearts, she longed to be.

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