Gemma (7 page)

Read Gemma Online

Authors: Charles Graham

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Gemma
4.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

The truth only began to dawn on Gemma when she felt the laces begin to tighten...and by then, it was far too late!

 

Inch by inch, ring by ring, the remorseless tightening began to clamp Gemma's wrists, then her forearms together and as the tension increased, so did her horror, until she could keep silent no longer.

 

"Ooooh! Oh, stop, Masters, please stop. It's tight!"

 

"It's meant to be! Now shut up slavegirl or you'll be gagged and punished!"

 

Gemma gaped at the woman who she had always thought of as the softest and most sympathetic of her captors and her belly quivered with a sudden fear as the woman drew her Devil's Palm and flicked it delicately across Gemma's defenceless breasts. The warning was crystal clear and Gemma shuddered in despair as she realised that her hopes were groundless. None of her trainers were in the least bit sympathetic to her situation and she could expect no mercy whatsoever if she disobeyed!

 

Clenching her teeth together to prevent the smallest sound escaping, Gemma strained her shoulders back as the laces continued their inexorable tightening. Her elbows squeezed closer and closer and her brain reeled as they touched and then welded together as her arms formed a single, pained column. Behind her, the man checked the tension of each lacing and tied the final knot, sealing Gemma's arms into their leather sheath. With his companion, her walked around in front of Gemma and watched as the woman pulled each of the buckled straps cruelly tight, holding the single glove securely in place and eliminating even the faintest hope of Gemma somehow being able to slip the leather down her arms.

 

"Excellent! It looks good on her."

 

"Yes. Let's see you get out of that slavegirl.""Does good things for her breasts, too. Just look at the way they jut out."

 

"That should add to her appeal. Make them more sensitive too."

 

As her captors smiled and discussed their uncomfortable bondage of her, Gemma stared wide eyed from one to the other, her misery deepening as she saw no signs of compassion in their cruel faces. The mention of her breasts sent her eyes downwards and she gave a soft whimper as she saw that they were quite correct. The tension of the single glove forced her shoulders back and combined with the tightness of the straps beneath her breasts to left and project the twin mounds into shameful prominence. So much so that her coffee brown nipples jutted like acorns and she found to her horror that even when she wriggled her shoulder her tautened breasts barely quivered!

 

"Stand still, slavegirl."

 

The waspish command froze Gemma into immobility.

 

"Don't move! We'll be back for you shortly," and the door banged shut behind the trio.

 

Alone with her thoughts, and her bondage, Gemma stood as she had been placed, the unremitting tension in her arms uncomfortable but bearable and serving to remind her at every moment of her lowly place in her captors' scheme of things. Escape was completely out of the question, her tightly clasped leather sheathed fingers could not possibly operated a door handle, even if it was not locked. In any case, she was in an underground complex, beneath, she assumed, Roxwell's house and had no idea where she was or which was to run even if she did manage, by some miracle to get to the surface!

 

Her chances were one in a million and if she tried to escape and failed...the consequences of that didn't bear thinking about!

 

Time passed and Gemma's arms grew stiffer and stiffer as she tried to decide whether to risk her trainer's displeasure by disobeying their order. Very slowly and very carefully, listening intently for the first sound of their return, she began to wriggle her shoulders and tense her arms in their sheath. Gradually she became less cautious and began to pant as her efforts grew more forceful, then sank to her knees, her torso writhing as she exerted her full strength against the heavy leather cocooning her limbs.

 

The leather gave not a fraction of an inch and Gemma mumbled curses under her breath as she remained helplessly encased despite every twist and wriggle and contortion she could think of.

 

"Damn!" How the hell did Houdini ever get out of these damn things?"

 

Silence was her only answer and Gemma shrugged her shoulders angrily as she gave up in frustration and resumed her position exactly as before.

 

By the time her trainers reappeared, a chastened and depressed Gemma waited resignedly for their commands knowing full well that there was no way she could free herself without help and that there was no help to be had. Tied up as she was, there was no alternative for her but to do exactly as she was bid and hope that, sometime, somewhere, she would get the chance to get away.

 

Before her resistance was broken entirely and she became a permanent and, Heaven forbid, willing slave!

 

Without a word, Gemma's trainers walked over to where she stood and their fingers captured her nipples and stroked her labia, sending irresistible arousal crashing through her body before she had a chance to prepare herself. The breath burst from her lungs in a great gasp of helpless desire and her body writhed against their hands as their arrogant plundering of her nudity reinforced her sense of submission with a burning desire to be made to climax as the bound captive she was.

 

Gemma's wishes, however, were not to be granted, for all too soon the gasping, madly responding brunette their hands were taken from her body, to leave her moaning in loss and furiously aroused.

 

Strong hands seized her elbows, "Forward, slavegirl," and Gemma was propelled from her cell, along a corridor and into a lift. As it purred upwards, Gemma broke her imposed silence, daring to risk punishment as a thousand questions tumbled through her brain.

 

"Masters, where are you taking me? What's happening?"

 

"Be silent, slavegirl or it will be the worse for you. You would be well advised to obey the rules you have been taught, Masters are not always as lenient as we have been."

 

Her curiosity unsatisfied, Gemma was smart enough to recognise that any further speech on her part would be most unwise and subsided into a sulky silence.

 

The lift door sighed open to reveal another corridor, but carpeted this time and Gemma walked forward as the grip on her elbows tightened. Past two plain wooden doors on each side, then through a third on the left.

 

The room they entered was about twenty feet square and completely bare except for a thick carpet into which Gemma's bare feet sank luxuriously.

 

There was no one there and Gemma's brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

 

"On your knees, slavegirl. Ankles crossed," the order came from the man and as soon as Gemma obeyed a buckled strap drew taut, preventing her from rising and arching her slightly backwards as it was clipped to the ring at the finger end of her single glove.

 

A sound from above made her arch her head to stare upwards, but as she did so, three brilliant spotlights clicked on, dazzling her and starkly illuminating her bound nudity.

 

Dazzling Gemma, but not before she had seen a sort of minstrel's gallery projecting from the far wall about fifteen feet above the floor where she stood. A gallery where shadowy figures sat staring down.

 

At her!

 

Gemma screamed wildly, her eyes vainly trying to penetrate the brilliant glare of the lights, her mind stunned by the realisation that there were people up there! People watching her! People who could see every naked curve of her helpless body! Her bondage!

 

She wrenched madly at her bound limbs, her screams of terror and outrage and fury echoing from the high ceiling as she fought to cover herself from the eyes she knew were there.

 

Gemma froze in stunned disbelief as a disembodied voice spoke from above her dark head.

 

"Thank you all for attending this slave auction, ladies and gentlemen. As you can see, we offer a fine young female on this occasion. She is, of course, not yet fully trained, but I am quite sure that all of you are perfectly capable of supplying the necessary instruction."

 

A ripple of appreciative laughter from the watching audience broke the spell which held Gemma paralysed in its thrall.

 

"No! she screamed, "No! No.o.o.o.!"

 

From behind Gemma's agonised, uptilted head, a hand holding a massive leather gag appeared and Gemma's protests died in a gurgling splutter as it was forced cruelly between her jaws and deep into her mouth, then buckled tightly behind her neck. Silenced, she could only whimper in horror as the calm voice of the auctioneer resumed.

 

"A fine pair of lungs, too, "he quipped, As you might expect from such a lovely chest. Now then, ladies and gentlemen, to the business of the evening. What am I bid for this slave-to-be? She has never felt the whip, as yet and as you have seen, she has much to learn. This is a rare opportunity, my friends. A brand new, untrained slavegirl. One who will only know the discipline which you choose to impose upon her as you bend her to your will. Shall we begin the bidding with fifteen thousand? Thank you madam. Thank you, sir. Seventeen thousand. Twenty thousand. Twenty five thousand. Thank you ma'am. Thirty thousand. Only thirty? Come, my friends, think of it. Think of the pleasure to be had. She will make a superb slave. Look at those breasts! That bottom, just begging for the touch of a whip! You could be the first to lay your whip there. The first to stripe it with your crop. And responsive too. You down there, show the ladies and gentlemen how she reacts."

 

Gemma shrieked with anguish as she heard the order, but was held cruelly exposed in her bonds as hands darted down over her shoulders and fastened on her tensioned breasts, stroking and rubbing and squeezing her defenceless nipples until the crinkled flesh of her twin buds grew stiff and erect, throbbing unmercifully as she wept and sobbed and threw her head from side to side in desperate and utterly futile efforts to free herself and flee from the ruthless stimulation and the shameful exhibition of her enforced need.

 

Totally at the mercy of her captors and before the prying eyes of the watchers above her, Gemma's tightly bound body shuddered galvanically as she was laid on her back and her yawning, pink-lipped sex exposed to the watching eyes and probing fingers of her trainers. Unable to help herself, Gemma was forced to orgasm and as her belly contracted with incredible power and she screamed in overwhelming anguish into her gag, the unseen auctioneer resumed his sales pitch!

 

"A most impressive demonstration I am sure you will agree, ladies and gentlemen. And from a slavegirl who is untrained. Think how much more may be expected when she knows the whip! Thank you, madam. Thirty five thousand I am bid! Thirty eight. Forty. Excellent, sir. Forty two. Forty four. No more bids, then? At forty four. Going once, going twice at forty four thousand. All done? At forty four thousand. Sold to The Consortium! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."

 

On her back on the thick carpet beneath the pitiless lights, Gemma's gagged face ran with tears as the terrified brunette tried to understand what had just happened to her.

 

Surely, it could not be?

 

It just wasn't possible...was it?

 

She couldn't be auctioned like a..a piece of furniture, or a painting!

 

And she hadn't even been able to see who had been bidding!

 

A hand slapped her right hip and Gemma strained to look down.

 

There, on her hip, an oblong of yellow paper stuck to her flesh.

 

A muffled wail of sheer terror, horrified despair leaked past the thick gag in her mouth.

 

Printed on the paper in large red letters, was a single word.

 

SOLD!

 

Gemma shook her head in refusal of the blunt message signified by the paper on her body, but as her ankles were untied and she was hauled unceremoniously to her feet and frog marched from the auction room, she groaned in anguished misery as her trainers laughingly congratulated each other on the successful outcome of their efforts.

 

"That went really well. Better than I'd hoped."

 

"Yes. I didn't expect her to fetch more than thirty thousand."

 

"Forty four is an exceptionally high price. Our commission from Roxwell is going to make my bank manager a very happy man."

 

"Right. Mine is going on that holiday to America I've been promising myself."

 

"And it's all thanks to little Gemma here and the cooperative way she climaxed on demand at just the right moment to up the bidding."

 

"So she's going to The Consortium, then. Can't say I envy her. They're really tough and demanding on a new slavegirl and she's in for a pretty hard time."

 

"Yeah. Too bad, but that's life for a slave, so she'll just have to get used to it, won't she."

 

Had it been able to, Gemma's jaw would have dropped in astonishment as she heard her enslavement and fate discussed so casually and with such scant regard for her feelings or desires, but her thick gag prevented any such displays and she was limited to rolling her eyes and mumbling soft, unintelligible protests as she was taken to the lift and back down to her cell.

 

a padlock snapped through the ring at the finger end of her single glove and a ring bolt in the wall secured her standing and she gazed despairingly at her three smiling captors.

 

"You have done very well for us, slavegirl," they told her, "Our percentage of your sale price will be well worth our weeks' training, so we will give you a little advance information about what is going to happen to you now. It may help to save you some punishments if you take it to heart. You have been bought and paid for as a slavegirl and no matter how you feel about that, it is a fact and one you would be well advised to remember. You are not and won't be freed and you will be made to submit and obey, by force if necessary. You are now owned by a group known as The Consortium and they have paid a high price for you. They will expect you to be pleasing in every way and will have no compunction about punishing you if you do not give them exactly what they demand. The best advice to you is to forget what you once were, forget about any rights you may have had, forget about escaping or any silly ideas about resisting. You won't be able to and you'll only make things worse for yourself. So do as you are told, obey immediately and exactly, no matter what and life may not be so bad. Refuse to cooperate....well, you will regret it if you do! Right, now we are going to leave you. The Consortium will soon be here to collect you, so think about what we have told you. Believe us, its the best advice a slavegirl could have and you are a slavegirl. Your body already responds like one and it is only a matter of time until your mind surrenders to the inevitable."

Other books

Love, Unmasked by Vivian Roycroft
The Home Front by Margaret Vandenburg
Trace by Patricia Cornwell
Dead Dancing Women by Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli
Refugees by Catherine Stine
Oliver's Twist by Craig Oliver