At last, he nodded, "Yes. Very satisfactory, slavegirl," but then he turned and walked back out of the door.
Gemma couldn't believe it. After all her efforts, all her hopes, he had not not caressed her even once! He must know how she felt, how wildly aroused she was, yet he had deliberately chosen to ignore her! In her brain and belly, resentment fought with arousal, anger with submissive lust, until she trembled with frustration and her eyes sparkled with tears.
Then, with Gemma at her lowest ebb, he returned and the roller coaster of her emotions zoomed skyward once more.
In his arms he carried a tall, rectangular mirror, covered with a dust sheet and set it down directly opposite her, then moved to one side.
"Behold," he announced dramatically, "A true slavegirl," and with a theatrical flourish, whipped the sheet away.
Gemma gaped numbly at the image before her and felt her belly begin to churn with overwhelming excitement. Could he woman in the mirror really be her? Those soft, pleading eyes, those slim, firmly muscled limbs, those tautly thrusting breasts and sensually flared hips and thighs, those coffee coloured erect nipples with their barbarically erotic piercings, those delicate pink folds of flesh between her straddled legs, all glistening with the juices of arousal.....was that what Masters saw when they looked at her?
The woman in the mirror was beautiful. Far more beautiful than Gemma had ever dreamed of being, the gleaming steel on her limbs and throat and the black gag hiding the lower half of her face contrasting dramatically with her creamy flesh and yet complementing and enhancing her beauty to create an indelible image of a woman delighting in her captivity, revelling in her bondage, and accepting willingly and with grateful thanks, the helplessness which set her free to live the life which she so clearly desired.
The life of a slavegirl!
Gemma stared at the woman in the mirror...at herself...and her belly jolted violently as she climaxed to the power of the reflected truth she saw there.
As one, Gemma and her reflection spasmed and pulsed in orgasm, fingers clawing at the empty air, muscles flexing vainly against obdurate steel fetters as scalding waves of love juices crashed and surged into her belly and sex, spattering her thighs and pubic hair with droplets of the silvery outpourings of her body's surrender.
The climax, powerful as it was, served only to intensify Gemma's white-hot need and she raised her eyes in mute, impassioned appeal to her Master.
Roxwell knew when his moment had arrived, tore his clothes from his body, moved forward and plunged his long, rigid maleness deep into Gemma's receptive warmth, wringing a quavering shriek of rapturous welcome from her throat as her belly squeezed and sucked his shaft into the very core of being and explosive pulses of heated juices surrounded him as she hurtled into a second tremendous orgasm.
Helpless to assist in her own ravishing, Gemma moaned in ecstasy as his lunges increased in speed and power, her body shuddering to the hammer blows of his lust as he built towards his peak and her eyes widened in anguish as his fingers captured her nipples, rolling her erect and throbbing buds and tweaking her rings to add still more painfully pleasurable stimulation to the tornado already engulfing her body.
Shuddering in pleasure, her brain swamped with ecstatic sensations, Gemma's belly convulsed in gigantic contractions as Roxwell's deeply embedded shaft twitched mightily and jetted his seed into her to send yet another devastating climax tearing and raging through her pinioned body in response to this ultimate exertion of his Mastery over her.
Racked by near-continuous mini-explosions in her belly, Gemma sagged limply in her bonds, her exhausted body hanging from her manacles as Roxwell, drained, withdrew from her and dressed himself.
"Thank you, slavegirl. That was quite delightful. Now, if you would just lift your head...Good."
He eased the gag from her mouth, but left it dangling from its strap around her neck as she worked the stiffness from her jaws and then Gemma gazed at him as he made great play of consulting his expensive gold wristwatch.
"Hmm. Not long to go now, slavegirl," he told her, "Just over an hour, in fact, until my contract for you expires," and he turned away towards the door.
Gemma was still helplessly secured to the wall and called out desperately, "Master? Master, please don't leave me like this?"
He turned and smiled cheerfully, "As you have pleased me, slavegirl," he grinned, "I shall be lenient and not punish you for addressing me without permission," and his grin widened at the sudden alarm which flashed across Gemma's face, "Don't look so worried, slavegirl. Someone will be along at midnight for you," and he disappeared out of the door.
Bolts grated across, locking her in and Gemma stared numbly at the closed door, hardly able to credit that she was still a prisoner. Not only locked in a cell, but helplessly spreadeagled and stained with the sweat and love juices of her numerous orgasms.
Her eyes went back to the mirror opposite and she gulped, seeing the damning evidence of her submissions all too clearly.
Just over an hour, Roxwell had told her and she took a deep, calming breath telling herself that she had been a naked bondage slave for a whole year. Another hour couldn't possibly matter. It must be his way of honouring the contract, she supposed. He had made a contract for a full year and a full year it was going to be. To the very second.
Gemma relaxed as best she could, resigning herself to the wait and trying to imagine how it would feel to be free again. Once released, she would be able to go to the Police and have Mike, her ex-partner, arrested. Or would she, because that would mean explaining exactly what had been done to her and she wasn't at all sure she could face that? And it would mean implicating Roxwell and her other Masters. Damn, she thought, there must be a way to get her revenge on Mike without involving the Police or her Masters. But what was it?
Gemma was still puzzling over the problem when the bolts slid back and the door opened.
A tall figure walked in and the instant Gemma saw the man's face, she froze in stunned shock, her brain racing madly.
"Good evening, Gemma."
The familiar voice cut through Gemma's paralysis like a knife and the horrified brunette wrenched wildly at the steel manacles securing her, frantic to cover her shamefully exposed nudity.
"Aren't you pleased to see me? I'm very pleased to see you again. And there is so much of you to see, isn't there?"
The whimsical tone of the question sent a chill of horror down Gemma's spine and she ceased her futile struggles to stare at his smiling face.
"Mike?" she whispered, "Mike, is that really you? What..What are you doing here?"
Mike Bowyer, her lover and business partner, the man who had contracted with Roxwell to deliver Gemma as a bondage slave, nodded and chuckled softly.
"Oh yes, Gemma. It's me all right and the reason I'm here is that my..ah..contract with Roxwell expired at midnight. About three minutes ago."
"Then...I'm free?" Gemma whispered, "You're here to let me go? To take me away? Oh, quickly, Mike, untie me and let's get out of here."
Mike's eyes swept over her spreadeagled nudity, noting the damp stains between her thighs and coming to rest on the rings piercing her nipples.
Gemma flushed redly and spoke much more sharply than she intended, "Untie me, Mike," she snapped, "Right now. I want to get out of here."
His eyes glinted dangerously and she couldn't hide the shiver of fear they sent up her spine. "Please, Mike?" she added, much more humbly, "I'm...I'm ashamed for you to see me like this."
He stared coldly at her, "But you're a slavegirl," he said cruelly, "You're trained to display your body for men's pleasure."
Gemma fought for breath, her anxiety congealing into a cold lump of horrible doubt in the pit of her stomach and before she could put her fears into words, he spoke again.
"You weren't so shy and demure the last time I saw you," he went on, "In fact, I recall that you were extremely eager to please. Perhaps you'd prefer it if I wore a hood again..."
Gemma screamed in appalled misery as the identity of the unknown stranger who had made her submit to him and had forced her to lick her own love juices from his fingers, became clear.
"Oh my God!" she cried, distraught, "That was you! And I..I..." she couldn't go on, her brain reeling with the horror of it.
"Yes," he confirmed, "It was. And you enjoyed it as much as I did, Gemma, so don't try to act all coy and virginal with me! I know what you are!"
The cold doubt in Gemma's belly grew into awful certainty and she moaned, "But I was a slavegirl, then. I...I...had to be pleasing or I'd have been wh..whipped. I wasn't free, then and I had no choice."
Mike's voice held a silky menace that set Gemma's body trembling and her bells tinkling.
"You're not free now," was all he said.
Gemma stared at him and licked her suddenly dry lips, "But...But...the contract. It...It's after midnight and the c..contract has expired."
Mike grinned wolfishly and her belly lurched, "Of course. You're quite right, Gemma. My contract with Roxwell has expired and you are no longer his slavegirl....but...." and he paused, allowing the suspense to build until Gemma gasped, "What? But what? What?"
"You are far too noisy for a slave," he said abruptly and with a swift movement, seized the gag from below her chin and forced it against her lips.
Fearing for her teeth and with no way to resist, she had no choice but to open her mouth and allow him to cram the massive ball between her jaws. Silenced, she could only stare impotently at him as he buckled the strap tightly and then resumed his place before her.
"That's much better," he mocked, "Now then, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. Well, no doubt you remember that our company, or rather, my company as it now is, after your sudden..ah..emigration to Australia, needed a cash injection to keep it going. You, of course, were the price that Roxwell demanded to give me that money, but I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear that it worked. Your..ah..selfless sacrifice allowed me to turn the company around and made me an extremely rich man, my love."
He smiled down at Gemma's gag distorted features and stared deep into her bulging eyes as she tried to come to terms with the news that, as far as her friends and colleagues were aware, she was now living on the other side of the world and that, therefore, her disappearance had rung no alarm bells.
"Rich enough, in fact, to mix socially with Roxwell and his friends."
Gemma shivered, the icy lump of fear filling her whole body with a nameless dread.
"We get on very well," he continued, "So well that they decided to invite me to join The Consortium and I accepted. So, naturally, when I was invited to assist with your re-training, I was delighted. It really opened my eyes, I must say. Not only did I fully understand for the first time, the level of obedience and discipline demanded from a genuine submissive, but I saw for myself, thanks to you, the depths of a real slavegirl's need and experienced the exquisite pleasure that such a slave can give to a Master."
He chuckled reminiscently, "Even when we were lovers and I tied you up, it was never anything like that! I wouldn't have believed you had it in you."
Gemma, at first horrified by the scale of his duplicity and the success it had brought him, couldn't help but feel the first stirrings of unwanted arousal as she remembered how, unknowingly, she had responded to his caresses during her re-training and then submitted utterly as a slavegirl to a Master when he had taken her.
Now, he was a full member of The Consortium, a Master in his own right....and still showed no sign of releasing her.
Mike reached forward and his palm stroked her cheek tenderly, "I don't know how Roxwell knew that you'd make such a hot slavegirl, but he did and he wasn't wrong, was he, eh, Gemma? I only realised it when I saw you at Lydia's place. And that was when I decided to keep you as my own personal slavegirl."
The impact of his simple statement, although not even entirely unexpected after what had gone before, had an effect out of all proportion to his words.
Gemma gave a muffled squeak of helpless dismay and a spray of glistening love juices spattered over her gaping thighs as a totally unexpected and quite uncontrollable orgasm erupted in her quaking belly!.
Mike's face was a picture as she climaxed and his astonishment was no greater than Gemma's own, because the instantaneous surrender of her body came as a complete surprise to her!
A rosy red flush suffused her cheeks and she closed her eyes to try to blot out the humiliating and shamefully obvious betrayal of her traitorous body, but Gemma could not blot out the pulsing of her belly, nor the intensely vivid images which filled her brain.
Images of her collared, chained nudity kneeling submissively at his feet, of her body arching up to meet his hands and lips, of his crop striping her buttocks for infractions of his harsh discipline, and of her belly enfolding him as he took her with all the power and authority of a true Master.
Gemma opened her eyes as his fingers pulled the gag from her lips and then bowed her head, unable to meet his determined gaze.
"Look up, slave," he ordered, his voice authoritative and Gemma obeyed instantly, aware that she was in the presence of a man who knew himself to be her Master....just as she knew it.