Gemma (8 page)

The three trainers nodded as one, their faces serious as Gemma's fate was outlined to her, then they turned and the heavy iron door closed firmly behind them.

Alone and securely tethered, Gemma's brain raced as she reviewed the unwelcome news given to her. She now belonged, if that was the right word, to a group of people known as The Consortium. a group of people she didn't even know! People who, impossible though it seemed, intended to keep her as their slavegirl and treat her as the helpless subject of their sexual fantasies and erotic desires!

An icy lump of sheer stark terror rose in Gemma's throat and she tugged and heaved at her leather clamped arms, desperate to escape the awful prospect of becoming the plaything of an unknown number of bondage enthusiasts, all intent on her submission!

Iron and leather mocked her frantic exertions and Gemma wept big hot tears as she was forced to accept that she could not escape and would simply have to wait to see what her new owners, The Consortium, intended to do with her.

Bolts rattled back at the door to her cell and as it swung open, Gemma, already knowing that she was doomed to failure, threw all of her small strength into one final battle against her bonds. To no avail and she shrank back against the brick wall as a tall figure strode into the room.

Roxwell, his eyes glittering feverishly and his thin lips curled in a predatory leer!

"So, my dear Gemma," he hissed, "We meet again, as I promised," and his shoulders shook with silent laughter as his eyes devoured the taut thrusts of her naked breasts and the sweet curves of her belly and hips.

"I have been looking forward to this," he went on, "And now that you have been purchased by The Consortium, I intend to see much more of you, my dear. You see, I am a member of the group and my friends and I can hardly wait to..ah..initiate you into your new duties. As a full bondage slave, dedicated to serving your Masters and Mistresses in any way we choose."

Gemma's wide eyes and trembling body made his cruel grin grow broader and he nodded gleefully as she realised the full extent of her hopeless predicament.

"Mm, not only have I made a very healthy profit from your sale, my dear, but I shall still have the pleasure of seeing you kneel in humble submission before me and beg to be taken by your Master. Oh yes, I shall enjoy using your body, slavegirl and I shall enjoy seeing you serving my friends. A definite case of eating one's cake and having it, too, wouldn't you say?" and his evil chuckle sent a cold shiver through the helpless brunette.

As if on cue, feet clattered down the corridor and Gemma squealed in shock and fear as a number of men and women walked into her cell, their hard smiles and coldly gleaming eyes drinking in her anguished horror and shamefully vulnerable nudity as they inspected their latest, and very expensive acquisition.

The Consortium!

Indifferent to Gemma's screams and moans, two men seized her legs and held her as a woman crouched down, took two shining steel rings from a small case, hinged them open and then closed them around Gemma's slim ankles, a sharp double click confirming that internal locking devices had functioned correctly.

Staring down in numbed fascination past the heads of the two men holding her legs, Gemma gaped at the gleaming metal locked around her ankles, each seamless band with two smaller rings dangling from opposite sides. It took no great mental powers on Gemma's part to guess what these were for, but the stunning reality was made brutally clear as a second woman came forward with a long steel bar in her hands and the men exerted their superior strength to spread Gemma's legs wide, against every furious resistance the horrified brunette could put up.

Clips at the ends of the bar snapped into the rings on Gema's ankle cuffs and the men released their grip and stood back as she fought madly to close her gaping thighs.

Beads of sweat sprang out on her struggling body, but the fight was hopeless and at last, Gemma grew still, her brain reeling as eyes bulging in the knowledge that she was no match for her bonds or for the Masters and Mistresses who had bound her so thoroughly and in such a defenceless posture.

She dared not raise her eyes, for she knew how utterly helpless she was and that every part of her body lay open and available to her watchers and feared that any movement might trigger the devastating assault she knew must come.

"The Consortium will now take possession of its slave," the voice was calm, deep and unknown to Gemma and it sent a thrill of delicious fear and instant arousal racing through her. She was bound inescapably, incapable of any form of resistance and at the mercy of a large group of dominant men and women! There was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent or even delay the torment they meant to inflict upon her. She was the slave and they her Masters. She must, would be forced, to endure whatever they chose to do and she gasped into her gag as her breasts quivered and her groin moistened with anticipation.

She threw her head back in delirious impotence as fingers captured her nipples, roamed over her belly and ribs, explored between her gaping thighs and delved into the crack between her buttocks, rolling, squeezing, caressing her twitching flesh, penetrating the recesses of her heated sex and bringing a shocked gasp from her nostrils as even the tight ring of her anal passage was breached by an inquisitive finger, until her whole body melted into a roaring sea of flame and lust and overwhelming arousal and she screamed in whimpered and pleaded to be allowed to climax.

With her eyes screwed tightly shut and her slight frame juddering frenziedly to the shattering torment Gemma was not permitted even the briefest moment of rest and spiralled higher and higher into one pulverising climax after another, her body running with sweat and her sex and belly and thighs spattered with the shiny silver droplets of her submissions as she was forced to respond again and again to the merciless demands of her owners and Masters.

Squealing for a mercy she was not shown, Gemma hurtled headlong into yet another orgasm as stinging hands cracked across her gyrating buttocks, adding searing heat to the unbearable stimulation of every pleasure centre of her writhing body and wringing further spasms from her as she surrendered fully to the needs forced upon her.

Exhausted and devastated, utterly subjugated by her Masters, Gemma fell to her knees, her arms angled high behind her and her forehead resting on the floor, her belly still pulsing explosively, as she was finally allowed to rest. All around her voices, some excited, some amused and some calm and dispassionate, discussed her performance and submissions and the shuddering brunette wept and sobbed into her gag as she heard Roxwell explain to other members of The Consortium, details of the business deal which had delivered her into their power. Cruel laughter greeted his explanation and Gemma moaned in black despair, knowing that none of his listeners felt even a twinge of pity for her terrible situation and that any hopes she might have had for mercy would not be realised.

The Consortium held her in its iron grip and Gemma was coldly certain that its members would be satisfied with nothing less than her absolute obedience and submission to their will.

The orgasms forced upon her and which still burned brightly in her belly were only a foretaste of what was to come and as Gemma faced her uncertain future of strict bondage and ruthlessly enforced sexual servitude, she could not deny the flaring heat of arousal which rippled through her body as she visualised the many ways in which she, as a helpless slavegirl, might be made to serve both male and female Masters.

Masters who had both the power and the inclination to compel her to act out their wildest fantasies, no matter how outrageous or shameful.

Gemma's speculations ended as she felt cool fingers begin to undo the buckled straps holding her single glove. She lifted her head, then squealed in sudden agony as a crop burned a thin line of red heat across her right thigh and a harsh voice ordered, "Keep your head lowered, slavegirl! You were not given permission to move."

Her thigh throbbed with heat, but she knew better than to disobey and thrust her head back down, biting hard on her gag lest any sound she might make be interpreted as a protest and earn her another cruel punishment.

The straps came free and the hands moved to the laces of her single glove, loosening their implacable grip on her arms until the leather could be peeled from her flesh.

Numbed after their long confinement, Gemma's arms had no strength in them and she could not have resisted even if she had dared to try as her wrists were gripped and pulled in front of her.

"Watch, slavegirl, as our steel binds you."

The same woman moved forward and removed two glittering rings from the case, snapping one closed on each of Gemma's outstretched wrists, then fastening them together with a simple clip.

Confined less than an inch apart, Gemma's wrists lay snugly side by side and she saw at once that there was no way for her fingers to reach the clip to release herself. Her spirits sank still further, the feel of cold, hard, unbreakable steel on her flesh reinforcing her captivity and confirming the impossibility of escape.

The woman reached into the case again and Gemma's brown eyes opened wide as another shining ring, much larger and twice as wide as the bands on her wrists, was held up to her.

Etched into the steel were the words "This slavegirl is the property of The Consortium," and Gemma shivered as the cold metal was placed about her slim throat and pressed closed, the internal locks clicking shut.

Instantly, the two men holding her raised her arms and pulled her wrists to the rear of her neck, a second clip securing her cuffs to the collar and leaving the surprised brunette with her bent elbows forming a frame for her face and her breasts drawn upwards by the tension.

"You now wear the collar of The Consortium, slavegirl," the same deep voice informed her and Gemma's eyes fixed on the speaker, a huge bear of a man standing well over six feet, with broad shoulders denoting great physical strength, piercing blue eyes, a large straight nose and thin lips. A riding crop dangled from his massive right hand and Gemma's eyes went instinctively to the fading red stripe on her thigh. This was the man who had struck her for raising her eyes without permission and she felt a mixture of fear and guilty arousal as she imagined herself struggling to please him, in the full knowledge that her would crop her if she failed!

It was an intensely erotic image and she felt her face flush as his gaze bored into hers.

"As a collared slave," he went on, "You will obey without question the orders of any Master or Mistress. Failure to do so will not be tolerated. You have received basic slave training and should know what is required of you. If you do not, you will be reminded," and he flexed the crop between his strong fingers, "We are The Consortium and we own you, slavegirl. Do not disappoint us."

To Gemma's surprise, he turned and strode from the room, followed by most of the others until she was almost alone.

Almost, but not quite, for Roxwell stayed, leaning casually against the wall until the last footfalls died away down the corridor.

For a long minute, the millionaire gazed silently at Gemma's steel fettered body, relishing her helplessness and the brunette struggled vainly to get to her feet, her brain filled with a growing dread as he smiled at her futile efforts.

At last, he moved to her and Gemma squealed in panic as he lay her on her back, her ankles doubled beneath her still clipped to the ends of the spreader bar and her thighs gaping hugely. Her thigh muscles tensed and she tore at her cuffed wrists, but was unable to get any leverage and lay pinned and immobilised by her own body weight as Roxwell slowly undressed and positioned himself between her uselessly clenching legs.

"Poor little Gemma," he whispered softly, "Betrayed by your lover and business partner. What a shame, but you are a slavegirl now and your only hope is to please your Masters. All of them! I am only the first to enjoy your charms, my dear, in recognition of my..ah..acquisition of you, but as you saw, my colleagues in The Consortium are all eager to get to know you much better. And I am afraid that not all of them are as kind and considerate as me, slavegirl, so if I were you, I would try really hard to be pleasing for some can be quite..cruel..if they are not satisfied."

Gemma stared down the nude, spread length of her defenceless body and her softly rounded belly gave a great kick of horrified arousal as Roxwlell moved forward and his massive erection pressed its way into her sex, his entry aided by the slick residue of her previous orgasms.

Despite herself, Gemma squealed with unwanted passion as he took her, but she could not resist him and her body writhed and twisted as he pounded into her belly, building her inexorably towards climax. His long bony fingers sought and found her tender nipples and she screamed again as his caresses added to her burning need, sending her reeling to the very brink of release.

He gathered himself and then thrust irresistibly into her and a shrill, breathy squeal burst from Gemma's flaring nostrils as his seed erupted into her belly and her own climax exploded in scalding jets of love juices as she bucked and jolted in her first full surrender as a slavegirl to a Master's dominant power!

Devasted by the depth and intensity of her climax and hardly able to believe the blazing heat of her own participation, Gemma fought to deny the deemingly unthinkable. She had been ruthlessly taken by a man she hated and feared....and yet she had still come as if he had been a lover!