Gemma

Chapter Two-3

“One more inch, slave, just one and your punishment trebles.”

Explosive gasps of arousal burst from Gemma’s nose as skilful caresses sent arousal surging into her belly, but the threat of savage reprisals if she resisted held her captive and her eyes filled with tears of shame and anguish as fear and desire fought for supremacy in her tormented body. Helpless, she could not stop herself becoming aroused and as her labia and c******s were stroked and rubbed and caressed, her thighs parted to open her to the wonderful, terrible fingers that created such delicious havoc in her belly. Instantly, the leather struck again.

“Resume the position, slave!”

The order forced Gemma to raise her smarting buttocks high in the air once more, despite her fervent wish to spread herself wide and allow the fingers to give her the climax she longed for.

“Hot little slave girl,” a woman’s voice whispered in her ear and Gemma, far gone in her need, nodded and moaned.

“Yes, Mistress.” Her belly swirled and bubbled with furious lust.

“Then you had best climax as a slave girl!” the woman chuckled and her hands burrowed beneath Gemma to fasten on the brunette’s n*****s as she arched her back to raise her breasts and deliver them into the waiting palms.

The crack of leather across Gemma’s bottom, the chuckle of her Mistress and the shrill shriek of ecstasy of a slave girl at orgasm blended into one as a mixture of pleasure and pain sent Gemma hurtling into a tremendous climax and her body convulsed to the power of her surrender as heated love juices spurted into her belly and s*x, drenching the fingers embedded deep within her. Shattered, Gemma curled into a tight fetal ball as the hands left her and could only whimper softly to herself, her hands clamped between her thighs as massive spasms of lust raced through and over her as her orgasm ran its course. Dimly, through her haze of intense s****l pleasure, Gemma heard her handlers discussing her.

“Yes, she shows promise. I don’t know where Roxwell finds them.”

“No, nor me. Still, as long as he does, we get well paid.”

“She’ll do well at the meeting I should think.”

“Yes, she’s just the type they like. Come on; let’s get her fixed for the night. I could do with a nice long drink.”

Too exhausted to fight and knowing that any attempt would be doomed to failure, Gemma made no resistance as she was hauled to her feet, marched out of the room and into a small cell with a solid iron door.

“Toilet and basin in there,” a casual wave of an arm, “bed there. We’ll feed you in the morning. Get some sleep.”

The door clanged shut and bolts grated. Gemma was alone. She stumbled to the toilet on wobbly legs, drank a little water, then tottered back to the bed where she fell face down and went out like a light.

Her first day as a slave was over ... but there were many, many more to come