Her Mistress stared down at her, eyes alight with malicious delight. "Oh yes you will, slavegirl," she chuckled, "One way or the other," and she flexed her riding crop and sent it whistling through the air.
Roxwell's strong hands gripped Gemma's head as she groaned as her forced her to turn back to face him, the ring behind her teeth holding her mouth in a stretched "O"
Unable to prevent it, Gemma spluttered as his maleness entered her mouth, his hands clamped around her head and stopping from drawing back. His scent filled her nostrils, a mixture of musk and sweat which was actually not unpleasant, but Gemma was mortified and continued to struggle as best she could.
"Hhuunnghh!" the muffled cry was torn from Gemma's throat as a cruelly hard cut from her Mistress's crop sent blistering heat spearing into her buttocks. Far worse, though, was Gemma's utter despair as her instinctive lunge forward and away from the pain, forced Roxwell's iron hard erection deeper into her mouth, her soft lips rasping against the coarse curls of his pubic hair and her cheeks bulging shamefully!
"Now, you will learn how to please a Master with your mouth, slavegirl," Roxwell grated, "Lick and suck me until I come."
Gemma tried to resist and held out as long as she could, but she was hopelessly bound, her naked buttocks an easy target for her Mistress's whip and, eventually, she was forced to submit.
Tears running down her cheeks, she complied with Roxwell's demands, her tongue lapping at his embedded shaft, squeezing and sucking him with her lips, her face glowing as red as her whipped bottom.
Inexpert though she was Gemma's efforts had the desired effect and she shuddered miserably as he grew larger within her mouth until she feared she would choke. Then he came and Gemma felt her mouth and throat fill with hot, salty spend and she gulped and swallowed desperately as his release pulsed and jetted.
Gemma was absolutely devastated, her humiliation was complete as she heard her Mistress's mocking laughter and knew the blonde had witnessed and enjoyed her shame.
Roxwell slide from her mouth and Gemma thrust her head down, horrified by what she had been forced to do, but knowing that she could easily be made to repeat her actions if Masters so required.
To her astonishment, she felt Roxwell lift her head and smile at her, "That was very enjoyable, slavegirl. With practice, you could give exquisite pleasure to your Masters."
She felt an absurd rush of pride as she heard his compliment, but could not answer him because of her gag and had to be content with nodding her head, blushing as she did so.
"And not only Masters," he went on, "Mistresses, too, can be pleasured in similar ways, as you will no doubt come to learn."
Gemma's flush brightened. She had not even considered that.
From behind her, she heard her Mistress's voice, "Quite right. And learn you will when I have you in my slave quarters, girl. Or else!"
Gemma surrendered to the inevitable. Twisting around awkwardly, she lifted her face to the elegant blonde who stood over her and nodded her head twice, quite distinctly!
Her action and the promise of submission it held, brought a great grin of pleasure from the blonde and Gemma felt a hot swirl of desire ripple her belly in anticipation of the time when she would be forced to make good on her promise or suffer the consequences of failure.
CHAPTER 6
Warm summer sunshine smiled benevolently down upon Gemma's naked body, its rays playing across the curves and hollows of her legs and back as she soaked up the afternoon heat. She rolled over and sat up, then stretched luxuriously, her breasts tautening as her arms reached skywards, the steel rings at her wrists, ankles and neck glittering and twinkling as she moved. A gentle clinking of chain drew her eyes down to her left ankle and she gave a little sigh of resignation as she saw the padlock and traced the looped chain across the smooth tiles of the pool side patio to its anchor point, a thick steel ring set under a tile in the patio near the steps down to the pool. A wry smile curved her lips. She hadn't really expected to find herself miraculously freed from her bondage, but a girl could always hope.
She guessed it must be about three weeks since Roxwell had had her brought to his house, but she couldn't really be sure. There was no way to tell the passage of time in his underground slave quarters, but she had been trained for about a week, then a few days with Roxwell and her Mistress and this was about the fourth or fifth day she had been brought out to sunbathe, so her guess had to be about right. Not that it made any difference to her situation, Gemma realised, it was just nice to know.
She wiped a thin film of perspiration off her brow and eyed the pool. The water looked blue and cool and inviting and she rose to her feet, unaware that the fluid gracefulness of her movements and the sensual undulation of her naked hips and bottom as she walked to the steps were a tribute to the strict training she had received.
Unknown to Gemma as she lowered herself into the pool and began to splash water over her breasts and belly, eyes watched her from inside the house. Eyes that gleamed with pleasure and anticipation as water cascaded in glistening rivulets from her lightly tanned flesh.
Several days before, as Gemma stood posed and motionless, her body beautifully displayed before him, Roxwell had commented, "You look pale, slavegirl. What you need is some sun."
Minutes later, her wrists snugly cuffed behind her back, Gemma had gulped nervously as her ankles were hobbled with a foot or so of chain and she was ordered from her cell. Along the corridor and into the lift she shuffled, her steps uncomfortably restricted by her hobble chain and acutely aware that Roxwell was behind her and ready to pounce if she even thought about trying to escape. Not that she would dare, after her last failed attempt, even if she were not so thoroughly handicapped.
When the lift stopped, she shuffled laboriously along yet another long corridor, then waited passively as he unlocked a heavy door.
Sunlight flooded in and Gemma licked her dry lips as she realised that she was going to be taken outside. Outside, but still in her bonds...and stark naked! She turned to Roxwell, a plea forming on her lips, but it died unspoken as she saw the riding crop in his strong hands. He gestured with the whippy crop and Gemma knew that she had no choice but to obey.
She moved forward, hobble chain clinking and as her eyes adjusted to the sun's glare, felt a huge wave of relief flood through her body. In front of the wide tiled patio on which she stood, lay a large, kidney shaped swimming pool, its blue water reflecting the cloudless sky. Beyond that, a manicured green lawn stretched away for a hundred yards or more, dotted with clumps of shady trees and bushes. Best of all though, and the cause of Gemma's relief was the high brick wall surrounding the entire garden and conferring complete privacy.
"Over there," Roxwell nudged her arm, pointing and Gemma made her hobbled way across the tiles and towards the pool, her spirits rising in the warm sunshine as her surreptitious glances confirmed that the garden was empty apart from herself and Roxwell.
"Stand still," the order brought Gemma to a halt and she immediately spread her legs as far as her hobble would permit, her spine hollowing as she thrust her shoulders back to display her body in the prescribed manner, well aware that a failure to do so would lead, inevitably, to a stinging cut from his crop.
Roxwell chuckled, but made no other comment on her obedience and Gemma flushed as he ignored her and bent to a particular tile, identical to all the others in the patio apart from a tine circular opening in one corner. He inserted a square metal handle into the opening and gave it a half turn and to Gemma's surprise, the tile hinged upwards.
"This is a standard fitment in each of your Masters' homes," he told her smilingly and to the brunette's complete astonishment, pulled out from the hole under the tile a length of steel chain with a padlock already clipped to the end.
"It helps to ensure that slavegirls don't stray," he added and slipped the hasp of the padlock through the ring on Gemma's left ankle cuff and snapped it shut.
"There now. Now need for this any more," and he unclipped the hobble chain, then reached up and released her wrists.
Freed from her bonds, but still securely tethered by the chain to her ankle, Gemma's eyes opened wide as he produced a bottle of sun tan oil from his pocket.
"Hold still, girl," he told her calmly. "Don't want you getting burned now do we," and a quiver of arousal rippled through Gemma as he poured oil into his cupped palm and coated his fingers with the slippery liquid.
He began with her shoulders and back and she could not control the tremors which raced up and down her spine as his strong hands moved over her flesh, sliding easily as he coated her with a thin film of oil. The sensation was undeniably erotic and as his fingers slid lower, to the rounded swells of her buttocks, Gemma bit her lip, her eyes closing as the firm kneading of her bottom cheeks kindled a fierce heat in her belly and between her spread thighs. The oiling of the soft under curves of her buttocks and the backs of her legs did nothing to reduce the feelings and as he moved around in front of her and poured more oil into his palm, her eyes sprang open and she gulped nervously understanding that he was not going to be content with oiling only her back. Knowing too, that she would never be able to contain the roiling heat in her belly when his oil slippery fingers slid over her breasts and between her legs.
"M...Master," she quavered, "I...I c..can't. If you...If you t..touch me, I...I'll come," and her face burned with embarrassed need as she confessed to her shameful, but quite irresistible desire.
Roxwell gave a wolfish smile, but his eyes bored into hers with steely determination, "Yes," he agreed coolly, "I know. Just as I intend that you should, slavegirl," and his hands reached for her.
Instinctively, Gemma took a pace backwards, her arms going to cover her breasts and groin in a reflex defensive action as his arrogant words sent her brain reeling.
His face darkened and Gemma froze as he hissed, "One more step, slavegirl, just one more step or one more word and I'll teach you not to disobey your Master! Now get back here exactly as you were, or you'll regret it!" and he snatched up his crop and sent it whistling through the air.
Somehow, in less than a second and with no conscious decision on her part, Gemma found herself back in position, her body perfectly displayed, her face filled with shocked anguish at her own weakness and instant surrender.
Roxwell brandished his crop, "That's better. Now, keep still, unless you want me to crop you!"
Gemma most certainly didn't and forced herself to remain absolutely still as he watched her intently for the smallest sign of disobedience.
At last, he nodded brusquely and laid down his crop, but only to oil his hands and reach for Gemma once again.
His fingers caressed her neck then slid lower, moving in slowly expanding circles to the smooth upper slopes of her small, firm breasts and Gemma's hands clenched at her sides as the delicious torment sensitised her flesh. Her breathing grew fast and erratic as his fingers slipped beneath her breasts, cupping the pale orbs and her eyes filled with helpless longing as Roxwell toyed with her, his fingers approaching, but never quite touching, the twin, tawny buds of her nipples.
Denied the touch and the pleasure she craved, Gemma fought to remain still, her lips pressed tightly together to contain the frustrations she was made to endure as he exerted his power and authority over her, proving to her yet again that he was the Master and she only the obedient and submissive slavegirl.
Gemma's belly fluttered wildly and an explosive grunt was forced from her nose as his hands tracked across the rounded plain of her stomach, oiling her and adding to her arousal at the same time as his fingers inched towards the spread entrance of her moistening sex. Despite her best efforts, she could not control the flaring heat his touch generated and her body began to bend forward from the waist as she gave in to the lusts coiling in her belly.
Roxwell looked up, "You are a slavegirl being taught discipline," he told her evenly, "Resume your position and do not break it again."
He did not need to elaborate on the consequences of disobedience and Gemma gave a muffled whimper of despair and intense desire as she fought to overcome her own needs and obey his command.
Her arousal, already burning at fever pitch, burned hotter still as he reinforced his dominance and her subjugation by oiling her ribs and hips and thighs without ever once allowing his fingers to stray to the wet and seething core of her femininity, until Gemma's whole body quivered and shuddered helplessly to every cruelly gentle caress of her heated flesh.
Under his ruthless discipline, knowing that she would be severely punished if she dared to move or speak. Gemma surrendered unconditionally to the storm of passion wreaking havoc in her over stimulated body, abdicating all control over her responses to the powerful Master who brought such wonderful, terrible ecstasy to her. She could not, dared not and did not wish to resist and as her brain gave up the unequal struggle, Gemma melted into a limbo of sheer physical rapture, her whole being given over to the joys of a submission she was forced to accept and embrace without reserve.
Well used to the subjugation of sometimes recalcitrant females, Roxwell noted the change in Gemma and timed his order to perfection.