Gemma

Chapter One-3

Gemma’s eyes bulged with a terrible need, her body aflame with furious heat and she sobbed and whimpered; frantic for the release she craved and yet terrified by the strength of the passion so easily inflicted on her. In bondage, she could not resist the searing lust forced upon her and she wept in shame as her tormentor gazed down at her, savoring and enjoying his power and the intense longing so clearly written on her gagged face.

“You respond well, Gemma!” he exclaimed. “A good slave should. Now, you will come as the slave you will inevitably learn to be.”

Fingers captured Gemma’s throbbing n*****s, others slipped over her c******s and into her s*x and the devastated, soon-to-be-enslaved brunette screamed in ecstatic surrender as her body convulsed in giant pulses and scalding love-juices sprayed into her belly. Lost in the swirling heat of her orgasm, Gemma moaned in shame and humiliation to the knowledge that she had climaxed to order, and worse, to a man she barely knew; hated and feared in equal measure.

How could it be? How could she have reacted so shamelessly and so helplessly? How could she have lost control so completely? And how could she possibly endure a whole year of slavery to him? A whole year of total s****l submission?

There were no answers, for, even as Gemma wept and spasmed in her orgasm, Roxwell replaced her blindfold and she was left to her shame and her submission and her misery as the van sped into the night bearing Gemma, her new owner and her handlers into a future she dared not contemplate.