Gemma's brown eyes filled with tears of pain and shame as she knelt helpless while her Mistress recovered, but she knew better than to speak without permission and waited patiently until her Mistresses chose to address her.
Fully dressed, the two dominants smiled down at their naked captive.
"Congratulations, slavegirl. A very satisfactory performance."
"Indeed. You show considerable promise. A few weeks in our hands and you will be even better."
"Yes, very much better. Nevertheless, a good start for a first attempt. It was your first time, was it not, slavegirl?"
Gemma lowered her head, a deep red flush colouring her face and neck, "Yes, Mistress," she whispered softly, "I h..had n..never...."
"No, we thought not. Never mind, you will get better as we train you."
Gemma dared not look up, for she feared that her face would betray the helpless arousal the words sent racing through her body. She had already been trained to please Masters with her mouth and now she must learn to please Mistresses in the same way!
Ordered from the bed, she knelt humbly as the chain from her ankle was removed, shortened and then locked to her collar, holding her kneeling at the head of the bed, her arms still securely cuffed behind her.
"It is late, slavegirl. Get some rest. We will continue with your training in the morning."
As her Mistresses left the room, Gemma stared miserably after them, her belly swirling with unsatisfied heat. She was hungry and in need, but she was their slavegirl and dared not protest. Sadly, she lay down on the carpet and made herself as comfortable as her bonds and the hard floor allowed, resigning herself to the discomfort and frustration.
Her Mistresses had not chosen to ease her needs and she could not. She must simply endure.
As her eyelids slowly closed, Gemma visualised the training she was to receive. Training which would leave her no excuse for failing to please either a Master or a Mistress.
She would be expected, and forced if necessary, to serve and satisfy any member of The Consortium and failure would be ruthlessly punished!
There would be no mercy and no escape! Not until her "contract" was complete!
CHAPTER 10
Lights blazed in all of the rooms of Alicia's penthouse apartment and strings of fairy lights turned the garden patio beyond the open glass double doors into a mysterious blend of light and deep, flickering shadows as the gentle, warm breeze set the lanterns swaying.
Inside, several low tables groaned under the weight of drinks and food and a top quality CD player provided a background of soft music as Gemma, naked apart from her rings and collar and cuffs, hurried from one spot to another, checking to make certain that the meticulous instructions of her Mistress had been carried out to the letter.
In the weeks she had spent with Alicia and Lydia, Gemma had learned that it did not pay to overlook even the smallest detail of the women's wishes and her lips moved silently as she reviewed the arrangements, ensuring that absolutely everything was as perfect as she could make it.
It was not as if her Mistresses were particularly cruel, but they were exceedingly strict and Gemma's buttocks had often felt the Devil's Palm and the crop when she had failed to satisfy and she had no wish for the experience to be repeated.
Satisfied that all was well, Gemma dropped to her knees, wrists crossed behind her back and thighs widely spread as Mistress Alicia strode into the room, her keen gaze sweeping around the room, then settling on her naked slavegirl.
"Perfect," she said, "Well done," and Gemma allowed herself to relax slightly, relieved that the blonde had not been able to find a fault and use it as an excuse to punish her.
"Come with me," and Gemma followed her Mistress obediently into the bathroom.
"Wrists up. You know what to do," the blonde said casually and Gemma felt the familiar warmth of arousal stir in her belly as she raised her arms and allowed her Mistress to lock her wrists together on each side of the sturdy shower head above her. Stretched almost on tip toe, Gemma's body ran with streams of water as her Mistress worked up a soapy lather on a large sponge and the slavegirl shivered with anticipation as she waited to be bathed. It was a regular part of her routine, but none the less erotic for that and as Alicia turned off the water and began to run the slippery sponge over every inch of Gemma's nude charms, the stretched brunette panted for breath through flaring nostrils as her Mistress's hands slid easily over her breasts and ribs and belly, then dropped to soap her buttocks and thighs and between her slim legs.
Gemma's eyes widened as her arousal built and her Mistress chuckled softly, knowing exactly what her touch was doing to her slave and knowing, too, that Gemma would not dare to move or protest. She had protested...once...but had soon been taught the error of her ways as Alicia had left her secured, fetched the Devil's Palm and proceeded to brand her defenceless body with a dozen stinging stripes as Gemma had screamed and twisted in vain efforts to avoid the punishment.
That had been Gemma's first..and last..attempt to object and they both knew that she would never try again.
Coated in a slippery mass of scented bubbles, Gemma rose and fell on her toes, the bells at her ringed breasts jingling musically as her Mistress took advantage of that knowledge to toy with her tender nipples and explore the soapy, slippery recesses of her sex, building her slavegirl's passion and savouring the submissive need so evident in her brown eyes.
Gemma's fingers fluttered vainly, as if trying to escape, but she rose onto her toes, the better to part her thighs and give her Mistress access and the blonde chuckled again, only too well aware of what her slavegirl wanted.
"Not yet, slavegirl," she whispered cruelly and the brunette squeezed her eyes tightly shut as she was forced to endure the lusts coiling in her belly while her hair was washed.
"I want you looking your best tonight," Alicia told her and Gemma shivered, knowing that there was to be a party that evening, but not knowing what part she was going to play in it.
She did not know for certain, but had an awful feeling that she would be central to whatever was going to happen...and quite unable to refuse!
As powerful jets of water rinsed her hair and body, she shivered with anticipation, part fearful of the coming ordeal, but also aroused by the prospect.
As her Mistress dried her with a large, fluffy towel, Gemma's belled nipples jiggled and Alicia smiled as thetinkling bells told of the slavegirl's desire.
"Relax, slavegirl," Alicia said calmly, "It will be at least half an hour until my guests arrive," but then made her own order impossible to carry out as she leaned forward and planted a firm, wet kiss on each of Gemma's erect nipples.
Instant heat surged through the captive brunette's belly and she gave a sharp gasp, her legs almost buckling beneath her as her lust soared and she gazed pleadingly at her Mistress, hoping against hope that the woman would take pity on her and give her the climax she longed for.
Instead, to Gemma's frustration, her Mistress reached up, released her wrists, then immediately re-bound her arms behind her and took her to the bedroom where she dried and brushed her hair until it hung in a dark, shining sweep to her shoulders. Just as she finished, they both heard the lift doors open and were joined seconds later by Gemma's other Mistress, Lydia, a shoe box under her left arm.
"Hi, Alicia. Good evening, slave."
"Good evening, Mistress."
"Well I've got them. Shall we try them straight away?"
"Mmm, yes. I want to see how they look."
"Right. Up you get, slave. We've got a present for you."
Gemma rose to her feet worriedly. Lydia was in a very good mood and that usually meant she had thought of some new way to humiliate her slave.
Lydia ripped the lid off the box and pulled out the contents and Gemma gaped uncomprehendingly at a gleaming pair of patent leather shoes....but shoes with heels higher than Gemma had ever seen in her life!
Her Mistress held them up, turning them this way and that so that the lights reflected dazzlingly as she showed Gemma her new footwear.
"Six inch heels, slavegirl. Specially made for you. And these ankle straps lock with the padlocks so that once they're on, they stay on, you see. Right, give me your foot."
Obediently, Gemma raised her leg and allowed the shoe to be slid on, her eyes widening as she felt the height of the heel force her foot into an arch, almost putting her on tip toe.
Lydia buckled the strap around Gemma's ankle and snapped the small padlock closed, "That's one. Now, give me your other foot."
As her weight came on to her high heeled shod foot, Gemma tottered and almost fell, unused to the difference heels made to her balance, and was thankful to feel Alicia's arm steadying her.
She shot her blonde Mistress a grateful smile, then gazed down as the second shoe was fitted and locked on.
Lydia stood up, grinning, "They look really good, don't you think, Alicia?"
Gemma stared down. Her Mistress was right, the shoes did look good. Good, and very, very sexy, making her legs seem longer and slimmer....but, already, Gemma could feel an ache starting in her calves, brought on by the stress of her impossibly high heels. What her legs would feel like after an hour or two, didn't bear thinking about, but, aches or no aches, there was no way she would be able to remove the shoes, no matter how uncomfortable she got!
"I'm going to let go of your arm now, slavegirl. Stand up really straight, that should help you to balance."
Gemma forced her shoulders back, holding herself as erect as she could and concentrated on not falling over as her Mistresses inspected her.
"Yes, I like them. They make her taller and make her legs seem longer."
"Keeps her on her toes. Literally! I love the way she has to tense her calves to keep her balance."
"And they make her stand straight, which shows off her breasts."
"Mmm. The men will really like that. They just love high heels on a slavegirl. No clothes, of course, just high heels!" Lydia's mocking laughter brought bright spots of colour to Gemma's cheeks, because she knew her Mistress was quite correct. Masters would enjoy the enforced tension her high heels imposed on her body and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. Her belly quivered deliciously. She might not be able to do anything, but the men, her Masters, certainly could...and no doubt would!
"Go into the lounge, slavegirl," Alicia's order broke into Gemma's erotic daydream, "We have to get ready for our guests."
Concentrating intensely, Gemma made her slow, very careful way from the bedroom, teetering on her precipitous heels, aware of the growing ache in her calves, but strangely excited by the knowledge that in her heels and her nudity and her bondage, she presented a picture that exuded sexuality and would make her irresistible to her Mistresses' guests....
Irresistible and available, for Gemma had no illusions about the men and women who would be at the party, or what their common interest would be.
Her belly burned with a slow heat as her Mistresses ordered her to halt beside a low, sturdy coffee table with a thick glass top and her mind raced as she saw a shining steel pole terminating in a steel ring, rising some two feet above the glass at one end.
"Sit on the table, slave, ankles crossed, facing the post," Lydia's voice was uncompromising and Gemma knew that she had best obey, unless she wanted to meet her Mistresses' guests with fresh whip marks emblazoned across her buttocks.
The table's surface was cold and Gemma shivered as her flesh met the glass, but the momentary discomfort was instantly forgotten as she looked down at her crossed ankles. The glass on which she sat, was mirrored, reflecting perfectly every recess and crevice of her parted sex! The shock of seeing herself so shamefully exposed, was awful, but not as awful as the realisation, a split second later, that anyone who stood near the table would be treated to the same humiliatingly detailed exhibition of her!
Horrified, Gemma turned to her Mistresses and her belly kicked powerfully as she saw that they both wore identical cruel smiles.
"That's right, slavegirl. You're going to be the centrepiece of our little party. You'll give our guests something to look at while they're eating," Alicia said calmly and Gemma shivered wildly, the bells at her nipples betraying the mixture of horror and arousal she felt.
"Until they decide to eat you, anyway," Lydia added spitefully and the shocked brunette gave a low moan of anguish, uncrossing her legs in preparation for climbing off the table.
"Keep still, slave!" Alicia's harsh command cut through Gemma's moan like a knife, freezing her in place, "One more sound or one more movement and you'll wish you'd never been born! I mean it, slave! Now get back in position!"
Gemma's agonised face turned up to her Mistress, but found no trace of sympathy in the blonde's cold eyes and with a shudder of despair, resumed her shameful pose.
"That's better. Now, not another word!" and the distraught brunette forced herself to keep still as the two dominants lashed her crossed ankles in place to the base of the post with tight black leather straps. Helpless, she leaned forward as a padlock was slipped through the ring on the front of her steel collar and snapped into the ring at the top of the post, holding her bent and unable to straighten and was powerless to resist as a short strap from the rear of her collar was attached to her wrist cuffs, holding her arms high up behind her shoulder blades in a double hammer lock.