Gemma (20 page)

Sitting on the crate, unaware of the turmoil seething in the brain and body of their imprisoned captive, Axel and Nicos chatted desultorily as they awaited the arrival of Gemma's new Mistresses.

Axel patted the crate with a huge hand, "Good design, this. Much better than the old model. Can't hear a thing," and he chuckled softly.

"Mmm," Nicos agreed, "Better securing straps, too. She couldn't move a muscle. No chance of her wriggling around and somebody wondering what all the noise is about," his dark eyes glittered with humour as he remembered Gemma's wide brown eyes staring up at him as the lid closed over her.

Axel nodded, then looked up as a small panel truck turned into the driveway and stopped, Lydia and Alicia stepping down from the cab.

"Hi, guys. That for us?" Alicia was in a very good mood and the two men smiled back at her as she indicated the crate.

"That's it. One crate and contents, all ready for delivery. Do you want a hand?"

Lydia frowned, "We can manage," she said shortly and the men exchanged glances before standing back and letting the women carry on.

Even with Gemma inside, the crate wasn't all that heavy and the two Mistresses soon had it loaded into the van.

"Right, we're all set. Thanks. See you at the party next month," and the women climbed aboard and drove slowly off.

In the back, Gemma felt the vibrations of the engine and knew she was on her way and her belly churned as she was transported towards an uncertain, but unavoidable, future....

"I see that Lydia still has no time for men, then," Nicos said slowly, smiling as the van passed out of sight.

"Yes," Axel agreed, "No change there. She still likes girls and the more submissive and obedient the better."

"Don't we all, my friend, don't we all. And Gemma is a slave, is she not?"

"She certainly is and Lydia will make sure she lives up to the highest possible standards. I wish her luck, she's going to need it!"

It was about an hour after that conversation took place that Gemma felt the van stop, reverse a short distance, then stop again and the engine vibrations die away. Wherever she had been taken, she had arrived and she sucked in a deep, calming breath, wondering what she would be faced with when her crate was opened. She felt herself lifted and carried a short distance, then felt a bump as the crate was put down, followed by a sensation of increased weight. It dawned on her at once. She was in a lift, going up. The trip took only seconds, then she was lifted, moved and put down for the second time.

She listened intently for any clue to her whereabouts, but the sound deadening in the crate worked both ways and she could not hear a thing. Minutes slipped by and still nothing happened, until finally the hinged top of her prison began to open.

Panting through flared nostrils, her body trembling and her bells tinkling softly, Gemma saw the faces of her new captors.

Alicia and Lydia, her Mistresses, stared down at their helplessly bound slave and their lips curved into cruel smiles as their cold eyes inspected every exposed inch of Gemma's defenceless body and checked the tightness of her bondage.

Gemma gazed up at her Mistresses and gulped down an icy lump that rose to her throat as she saw the wolfish smiles on their faces. She had wondered if Mistresses would be less harsh and demanding than Masters....and saw her answer in the anticipatory gleam in their eyes! There would be no relaxation of the discipline and obedience demanded of her and Gemma knew it instantly.

Alicia chuckled throatily, "Welcome to your new home, slavegirl. I'm sure the three of us will get on splendidly."

"Provided you do exactly as we tell you, when we tell you!" Lydia's tone was uncompromising, the unspoken threat clear to Gemma who could not even nod her head to signify her understanding.

Alicia chuckled again, "Now, now, Lydia. Let's not frighten her too much. I'm sure she knows what she has to do. If not, I know you have ways of reminding her. And so do I, but let's not worry about that at the moment," she flashed a smile at the helpless slavegirl, but Gemma was not fooled. The smile meant nothing, certainly not that Gemma would be permitted the tiniest laxity. Other Masters had smiled, too.....and then punished her!

"Now then, slave, listen carefully. You are in my penthouse and it's fifteen floors up, so don't even think about climbing down. The lift we brought you up in needs a key to operate it and the emergency exit is a locked steel door. There is no-one else on this floor and the one below is all machinery and plantrooms, so nobody will hear you if you shout for help. Oh, and you might note that this is the tallest building for several miles, so there's no point hoping someone will see you if you try to attract attention. You are here, we are here and you're going to stay here until we let you go. Get used to it."

Gemma's spirits sank as the blonde Alicia spoke. The two Mistresses seemed to have thought of everything and Gemma realised she was just as much a prisoner as she had been in all of her other Masters' homes.

Her depression was joined by a growing fear as the dark haired Lydia bent low and stared into her eyes from only a few inches away, "That's right. You can't get away, slave, so you had better behave. I told you when I pierced your breasts that you belonged to me and my colleagues and I warned you to be obedient when you visited me. Well, here you are and I can assure you that I do not stand any nonsense from my slaves! I expect perfection and if I do not get it, you will suffer!"

She reached down and Gemma gave a great whimper of terror as the woman showed her a thin, whippy riding crop and sent it whistling through the air inches above Gemma's naked, cowering flesh.

"Don't say you haven't been warned, slave," she hissed, "I enjoy making slaves obey me and I won't mind how often you need to be disciplined," and she gave a mirthless laugh that sent chills of horror racing up Gemma's naked spine.

Mistress Lydia was quite obviously telling the truth and Gemma didn't doubt for a moment that she would be ruthlessly punished for any failings on her part. Her belly surged with a mixture of fright and arousal and thoughts of disobedience or resistance never even crossed her mind. Gemma knew what she had become and surrendered without a fight to the overwhelming power and dominance of her Mistresses, her brown eyes softening and dropping from the stern gaze of Mistress Lydia as she submitted.

"Good, that's settled," Lydia snorted, "Now we all know where we stand. I'm going to have a drink. Do you want one, Alicia?"

"Lovely. Scotch and water, please," and she leaned on the top of the crate, smiling down at Gemma as Lydia made the drinks and fetched them over.

With the Scotch in her right hand, she reached down casually and Gemma shuddered as the ring through her left nipple was lifted. Electric arousal shot through her breast and she squealed hopelessly, unable to hide her reaction as her Mistress toyed with the steel circlet, Gemma's excruciatingly sensitive nipple becoming rock hard in seconds!

"Hmm. Interesting," the blonde observed and Gemma moaned bitterly, knowing her body had betrayed her and that her weakness would be catalogued for future use against her.

Between her bound legs, a moist warmth grew as she was aroused, but she could not defend herself or prevent its insidious growth and felt her will power draining away as she succumbed to the sensual pleasure of inevitable submission.

Lydia watched, a cruel smile at her lips and then followed suit, her slim fingers toying with the ring at Gemma's right breast, the captive slave vibrating in her bonds as her torment doubled.

"Of course," Lydia said softly, "Nipple rings can have other uses," and she gave the ring between her fingers a vicious tweak.

Gemma's fingers clawed vainly, a shrill gasp torn from her nose as the cruel twist sent a sharp jolt of pain spearing through her.

"They can be most useful for disciplining and training purposes," Lydia went on calmly, giving a second tweak and Gemma reacted exactly as before, her eyes wide with horror and terrified understanding as she realised exactly what Lydia meant.

She could be controlled with one finger, the merest flick of her Mistress's wrist more than enough to ensure her absolute and instantaneous obedience!

The shock was devastating, Gemma had never even imagined the possibility that her nipple rings could be used for such a purpose! The sudden revelation that they could be...and would be...lit a massive fire of pure submissive lust in Gemma's swirling belly and she juddered wildly to the flaring need imposed upon her!

"So I see," Alicia grinned as she recognised Gemma's uncontrollable response, "Two birds with one stone. Arousal or discipline, or, of course, both at the same time. I like it," and her fingers interspersed gentle, arousing caresses of Gemma's ringed nipple with artful tugs to send a devilish mixture of overwhelming pleasure and painful twinges through her shuddering, moaning and utterly vulnerable captive.

Held by her implacable bonds, the webbing imprinting its marks on her soft skin, Gemma's passion built to a quivering peak as her two Mistresses combined to torment her beyond bearing, sweat springing out all over her body as she struggled vainly to free herself and move in order to ease the terrible, yet delicious burning of her wild arousal!

Unable to reach the ultimate release of the orgasm so close within her, Gemma mumbled frantic pleas into her gag, begging to be made to submit, her eyes filled with the humble desire of a slavegirl who knew her pleasure was dependent on the whim of her Mistresses.

"Randy little bitch," Lydia chuckled, "You want it, don't you?" and Gemma whimpered in need, her desperation all too obvious to the brunette.

"Will you promise to be a good little slave if we give you what you want, eh? Will you promise to be obedient and docile and humble if we make you come? Will you crawl on your knees and beg to be allowed to please us, slave? Well, will you?" Lydia's mocking taunts brought a vivid scarlet flush to Gemma's gagged cheeks, because Gemma was shamefully aware that she would do all of those things, and more, to earn the climax she needed so desperately.

She could not answer, but her eyes mirrored the truth and Lydia smiled triumphantly.

"I do believe you will, slave," she laughed, "Very well, we shall let you come....but then it will be our turn and you will honour all of your promises, won't you...."

It was not a question and both Gemma and her Mistresses knew it and anticipated it with mixed feelings, the two women with undisguised pleasure and Gemma with serious misgivings.

She had never pleasured a woman before...but she was going to have to very soon.

Working as a team, Alicia and Lydia swiftly released the straps holding Gemma, then, before her stiffened limbs regained their strength and flexibility, rolled her from the crate, flipped her over onto her belly and locked her wrists behind her back. Face down on thick, soft carpet, Gemma only had time to see that she lay at one end of a huge, modern, expensively furnished apartment, the far wall an expanse of glass looking out on to a large garden patio with a superb view of a city and, farther away, green, tree covered hills.

None of which was the slightest use to her, because she didn't recognise any of it.

Her speculations ended as Alicia commanded, "Get up, slave and walk to that door," and she rose to her feet, feeling arousal coiling in her belly as she obeyed.

She jerked, yelping in shock as Lydia's crop sliced across her buttocks and the woman snapped, "Gracefully, slave, always gracefully!"

Gemma forced her body erect, pulling her shoulders back as she had been trained and did her best to ignore the smarting of her bottom as she moved across the floor, her hips swaying fluidly as she placed each foot carefully in front of the other, exactly as catwalk models do.

The room she entered was a bedroom, probably Alicia's to judge by the number of cosmetics and perfumes littering the dressing table, nearly as large as the room she had just left, but, even so, dominated by a giant Empress sized bed, its corners marked by turned brass posts as thick as her thigh.

Worryingly, dangling from a brass hook above the bed, Gemma spotted a familiar object she had hoped to have seen the last of. A Devil's Palm, its five broad thongs declaring its purpose unmistakably and its position, within easy reach of the occupant of the bed, showing that it was no mere decoration.

Gemma knew why it was there and remembered vividly what it could do.

"I see you recognise my little toy, slavegirl," Alicia murmured softly, "I find that having it in plain sight encourages slaves to be obedient."

Gemma could well believe it, then realised that her Mistress was not only talking about her. "Slaves" she had said and Gemma shivered, knowing that she was not the first enslaved female to share Alicia's bed and that her Mistress would not accept Gemma's shame or inexperience as an excuse should she fail to be pleasing.

"Get on the bed, face up and spread your legs."

Gemma gulped but had no choice but to comply and stared anxiously down past her naked, ringed breasts as she spread her thighs and exposed herself humiliatingly.

Metal clinked and she fought to hold her position and avoid being punished as her Mistresses stretched steel chains from each bed post and clipped them to her ankle cuffs, the slack in the links only allowing Gemma to partly close her legs.