The bells at her ringed nipples jingled continuously as she tested her bondage and found herself utterly helpless and her brown eyes gazed wildly down at the reflected image of her defenceless body. She couldn't move but could see only too clearly her absolute vulnerability and availability to the touch of anyone who cared to arouse or torment her.
Seconds later, she was unable even to protest or beg for mercy, for a huge, thick gag of leather was forced deep into her mouth, silencing her and preventing even token resistance on her part!
Secured for the pleasure of her Mistresses and their guests, Gemma trembled wildly as the two women left her to go and change, her eyes seeking vainly for something, anything, to help her and her muscles tensing uselessly against her bonds in her efforts to escape.
As she had feared, her struggles were fruitless and as the hum of the lift came to her ears, Gemma ceased her futile resistance and summoned up what few defences she had to face the inevitable.
Her Mistresses, resplendent in long evening dresses, walked past their displayed slavegirl, ignoring her completely as they went to greet their guests and Gemma bit down hard on her gag as she heard the friendly greetings, deep male laughter and softer female voices of the arriving group.
"Ah, Gemma my dear. How nice to see you again," Roxwell loomed over her, dressed in an immaculate dinner jacket, his deep set eyes drinking in her helpless nudity, "You already know Axel and Nicos, I believe," and Gemma closed her eyes, ashamed, as the giant, dinner jacketed Axel leered at her ringed breasts, "Yes, we've already had the..ah..pleasure of meeting this slave, haven't we, eh, slave?" and he gave a loud snort of laughter.
"Indeed we have. Good evening, slavegirl," and Nicos gave her a slight bow, impeccable in evening dress.
Gemma flushed a deep scarlet as Roxwell introduced a fourth man, recognising him instantly as the unknown man who had taken her on the day her breasts had been pierced!
"This is Steven, girl. One of our little group in The Consortium. He has been away on business, but is now back and has been looking forward to meeting you again."
Of average height, with brown hair and a friendly, open face, Steven looked nothing like the ruthless Master Gemma knew he was and she dropped her eyes from his steady gaze, remembering how she had begged him to take her. And he had!
"I've heard good things about you, slavegirl," he said pleasantly, "Let us both hope they are true, because I would not want to be disappointed," and for a brief moment his eyes hardened and Gemma saw the steel behind the easy going exterior. Like each of her other Masters, he would not hesitate to take exactly what he wanted from her and Gemma knew it.
The arrival of the lift bearing more guests broke up the little group around Gemma and it was some time later that she became aware that she was being scrutinised by a distinguished looking, grey haired man, accompanied by a very tall, very slim redhead dressed in an extremely short, skin tight silk cheongsam, split up the left thigh nearly to her waist. For several moments, the pair simply looked at Gemma's bondage and she coloured, knowing the image she presented and wondering who the two were.
Alicia strolled over and Gemma's blush deepened as her Mistress offered a glass of champagne to the man, then said casually, "Enjoying the show, Matthew? We think she makes a rather good piece of bondage art, don't you agree?"
"I certainly do. But tell me, Alicia, is she as obedient as she is pretty? After all, like any slave, her primary purpose is to be functional as well as merely decorative."
Alicia frowned, "Naturally," she confirmed tartly, "Lydia and I are hardly novices at the training of slavegirls."
"Of course. I apologise, my dear. May I have your permission to test her initial responses?"
Gemma's eyes bulged at his casual enquiry and she spluttered into her gag, desperately hoping that her Mistress would refuse.
Alicia chuckled indulgently, "Well," she began, "We were planning on waiting until after the buffet, but I never could refuse you anything, could I, you old rogue. Oh, very well, I can see that you're itching to test her out. Go on then, but don't blame me if the others get annoyed with you for jumping the gun."
Matthew's eyes twinkled merrily as he assured her that he wouldn't and Gemma strained hopelessly at her bonds as he and the redhead moved to stand directly in front of her, staring calmly down at her anguished, gagged face.
"Alicia tells me that you are a fully trained slavegirl," he said softly, "I wonder if you are?"
Gemma hung her head as much as the post at her throat would permit, her shame intense as his steady, pale blue eyes examined her, but he reached down and took her jaw in his fingers, raising her face until she stared directly up at him.
"Don't be shy, slavegirl," he admonished gently, "Masters do not permit modesty in their slaves. Your body is excellent and you might be whipped for attempting to hide it from a Master, might you not?" he did not wait for an answer which Gemma couldn't give and she stared numbly at him as he continued, "You are enslaved, but men have always enslaved women. You are merely the latest in a very long line and will most certainly not be the last. If you doubt me, I will prove it to you."
He turned to his silent companion, "Tell her who and what you are."
The redhead didn't hesitate for a second, "I am Clarissa and I am a slavegirl," she declared clearly and Gemma's jaw would have dropped open in stunned amazement if she hadn't been gagged.
Matthew smiled at her astonishment, "Not all slavegirls are ringed and wear steel on their limbs and neck," he told Gemma, "Outward symbols of slavery can sometimes be inconvenient, but that does not mean that dear Clarissa here is any less of a slave than you. Show her Clarissa, show her how I have chosen to exhibit your submission to me."
The redhead's eyes flashed with suppressed anger as she heard his order, but she, just like Gemma, was obviously well aware of the penalties for disobedience and she reached at once for the hem of her tight dress and pulled it up to her waist, at the same time spreading her shapely legs to give Gemma an unhindered view of her belly.
Gemma gasped into her gag, any doubts she might have had about the other girl's slave status instantly dispelled. Clamped tightly about Clarissa's slim waist and between her thighs, a contoured steel chastity belt hugged her like a second skin, gleaming coldly in the bright lights and denying access to her body to any, including Clarissa herself, who did not hold the keys of the locks!
"Turn around,."
Clarissa's white teeth gnawed at her lower lip and as she obeyed, Gemma saw that her bottom, neatly bisected by the steel belt, bore the tell tale red stripes of a clearly recent whipping!
"Clarissa was rather fractious earlier this evening, as you can see. I'm afraid I had to remind her of her duties somewhat forcefully. But I am confident she will be much more obedient now. Won't you, eh, slavegirl?" and his embarrassed submissive nodded swiftly.
"Good. Then arouse this slave for me. But not, repeat not, to climax. That can wait until everyone can share the sight."
Gemma screamed into her gag, her bells jingling musically at her breasts as his words sank into her brain and the redhead dropped gracefully to her knees in front of her.
Long, slim fingers reached out and Gemma juddered explosively as her breasts were captured, blistering arousal crashing through her pinioned body as her hardened nipples were twirled and squeezed and rolled until they ached and throbbed unmercifully and her belly boiled with enforced lust. Almost at her peak, Gemma whimpered in despair and disbelief as Clarissa stopped, leaving her trembling on the brink of her climax.
Exactly as her Master had ordered!
Gemma didn't want to believe the evidence of her own eyes and body, but as Clarissa stood up and took her place at the side of her Master, she had to!
Clarissa was a slave! No less so, and perhaps even more so, than Gemma herself!
Which meant that everything that Gemma had been told about Masters and slaves, was absolutely, literally true!
Stunned by the realisation that she was only one slave among many, Gemma wept bitter tears as Matthew turned away to join the other Masters and Mistresses enjoying the party, leaving her to her unyielding bondage, the furious heat of her arousal and the terrifying anticipation of having to wait until her Masters chose to complete her inevitable submission!
Time sped by as various members of The Consortium came over to enjoy the sight of Gemma's displayed nudity, but she barely noticed, her mind almost completely taken up by the shock of her arousal by Clarissa....until the music was switched off and everyone in the room gathered around her. Helpless, Gemma screamed and moaned into her gag as her swollen breasts and damply glistening sex fell easy prey to the hands of her Masters, but no matter how she writhed and heaved and tugged at her bonds, she could not evade the overwhelming stimulation that each, in turn, imposed upon her. Time and again her nipples throbbed rigidly to skilled fingers, time and again her clitoris thrust hard and exquisitely sensitive from its fleshy sheath and time and again her belly exploded in coruscating spasms as fingers penetrated her labia and sex to force her into uncounted, unstoppable orgasms until the coffee table on which she sat became spattered and smeared with the silvery droplets of the sexual tribute wrung from her body by the merciless torment!
Only when Gemma sagged limply in her bonds, barely able to respond to further stimulation, did they take some small pity on her and withdraw to the drinks table to refresh themselves for a renewed assault upon her when she had recovered somewhat.
Totally devastated, her belly and breasts burning furiously from the shattering submissions forced upon her, Gemma remained helpless in her bondage for nearly an hour as her Masters drank and ate and joked among themselves, their callous disregard of her despair reinforcing her subjugation as she was ignored.
In her place, Clarissa, the red head, became the centre of attention and Gemma's brown eyes widened as the tall slavegirl was ordered to strip for the entertainment of the group.
Slowly and sensually, clearly enjoying being the object of all eyes, Clarissa undulated from side to side as she unclasped the halter neck of her silk dress and lowered it inch by inch to the creamy upper slopes of her breasts, tantalising her audience with momentary glimpses of her body, then covering herself once more, her eyes meeting those of her Masters boldly and then sliding away in submission, but never leaving the gaze of Matthew for more than a few seconds.
His brief nod of approval to his slave gave permission for her to continue and she worked the tight silk down to her hips, revealing her pale, full breasts and large, dark nipples but never missing a beat of her erotic dance.
For a brief instant, her eyes locked with Gemma's and the brunette recognised the defiant pride of a slavegirl who knew exactly what she was and accepted and revelled in her desirability to Masters.
As Clarissa slid her dress over her hips and discarded the crumpled fabric to reveal the steel gripping her loins and marking her as Matthew's slavegirl, Gemma felt a bitter pang of jealousy that it was not she who wore such a device as a symbol of her absolute submission to one Master!
For, as the redhead arched her body into the lovely curve of a slavegirl's submission, her green eyes fixed on only one Master....her Master, Matthew....and Gemma realised that Clarissa was enslaved by her love for him and needed no chains or whips to make her his slave. She could be nothing else and obviously desired nothing else!
Gemma envied her such devotion and could not help but wonder whether she might, one day, find such a Master. A Master to whom she, too, could be nothing but a slave.
Deep in her whirling brain, an image formed of herself kneeling in chains before a tall, muscular Master and she shut her eyes in horror as his face took on the familiar features of Mike, her ex-lover and partner and the man who had sold her into slavery!
Trembling with shock, she forced the image away, down into the depths of her reeling mind, refusing to even think of the simply appalling possibility! She loathed him! Despised him and hated him with a passion and would never, ever, let such a thing happen!
Shuddering, she opened her eyes, determined to forget her momentary, and it was only momentary, she told herself fiercely, lapse into madness.
The sight before her took her breath away and brought her fears rushing back.
Clarissa, freed of her chastity belt, but with her wrists crossed and tightly bound before her and with a wide gag strap sealing her lips, was being taken out onto the garden patio by Matthew, Lydia and Nicos, while Axel, Roxwell, Steven and Alicia were walking towards Gemma.
Against four dominants, she never had a chance of resisting and gulped in fright as her ankles were untied, her wrists locked together before her belly and her neck released from the post.
"On your feet, slavegirl. You've got one minute to stretch your muscles."
Gemma winced as her body protested, but, true to their word, her Masters only allowed her a minute to recover before ordering her to walk out onto the patio, Axel and Steven gripping her elbows as she stumbled along on her pencil slim high heels.
The night air was pleasantly cool on Gemma's naked flesh and as she joined Clarissa and her escort of Masters, Gemma could not help but notice how the gently swaying fairy lights highlighted the redhead's breasts and belly and legs in moving patterns of red and blue and yellow, the whole effect making her look like some sort of painted savage. Much like herself she realised, looking down at her own naked body.