Submissives of the Colonel

by Charles Graham

  Her belly fluttered with desperate slave heat as her stretched body moved back and forth the scant inch her bondage permitted and soft whimpers leaked past her gag at each movement as a thin chain leading from the branch above her, down through between her spread thighs, then back up to the branch, bisected her gaping sex to send shattering jolts of arousal up into her quaking belly as the hard links slid through her glistening labia and over the protruding nub of her engorged clitoris.

  Hopelessly bound, she gasped shrilly and froze as a particularly powerful jolt speared through her displayed body…then squealed in pain and anguish as a leather crop burned a line of searing heat across her rounded buttocks.

  “Continue, slut. You were not given permission to stop.”

  Captain Philip Adams grinned with cruel pleasure from the comfort of his canvas deck chair as Belinda squealed. He then slashed his crop a second time over her presented bottom, his smile growing wider as a vivid red stripe bloomed on her pale flesh and her instinctive flinch away from his whip caused the glittering chain to tighten and sink deeper into her body.

  She dared not disobey, for Adams always took great delight in disciplining any slave…and her in particular…and she knew he would not hesitate to punish her again if she showed the smallest resistance. It would not be the first time, for he had made her pay many times over for her refusal to marry him, and he still showed no sign of forgetting, far less forgiving, what he felt was a slight to his dignity.

  How often, alone in her cell with her bottom and thighs aflame with the smarting heat he had inflicted on her, had Belinda regretted turning down his proposal, but what was done was done; and, as he forced her to arouse herself for his amusement and pleasure, she could not hold back the furious heat that boiled and surged in her belly or deny the shameful knowledge of her own deepest desires to be subjugated and used by a dominant and ruthless Master. Even…or perhaps, especially…the tall, dark haired Captain.

  Drowning in the waves of sexual excitement that coursed through her body as the pitiless chain did its work, Belinda surrendered to her enforced lust and the will of her Master, her juices oozing from her sex to coat the harsh steel with a glistening sheen and the gold rings at her pierced nipples dancing and jiggling to the heaving of her swollen breasts as she neared her climax.

  Judging the moment to perfection, Adams sent his crop hissing across her rigidly erect buds; and, as she squealed in pained shock, applied a sharp, upward flick to the exposed, distended folds of her engorged labia. Belinda shrieked in despairing anguish; but, even as she screamed to the cruel blows, her belly convulsed with stunning power and her sex opened to release spray after spray of heated love juices to bedew her flexing thighs with silvery droplets as an orgasm of incredible intensity exploded through her shuddering body.

  Untouched by her Master, Belinda climaxed frenziedly, her body shaking to the massive spasms of her release, her helpless surrender to the whip and the chain at her belly that of a fully trained and totally subjugated slave, her submission absolute and quite unmistakable to the Master who gazed with cold, calculating eyes at her tightly bound nudity and the torrents of love juices that flowed from her pulsing sex to drip to the earth beneath her widely straddled thighs.

  There could be no question of what Belinda had become; and, as Adams savoured the extent of her slavery and his complete power over her, he sank back into his deck chair and snapped his fingers casually.

  Instantly, Ranee hurried to his side and fell to her knees, head lowered humbly, and naked body displayed to his eyes and touch as she proffered a full glass of cool wine to her Master.

  When he took it from her cupped hands, she immediately thrust her arms behind her back and arched her spine and neck to exhibit her beauty, the submissive action bringing a smile to his face.

  “I trust you were not too bored waiting for this slut to pleasure herself, slave?”

  “No, my Master,” the Indian girl replied quickly. “It is my duty and my only desire to serve you in any way you command, Master.”

  “An excellent answer, slave. And do you think the bitch is truly a hot and pleasing slave?”

  “That is not for me to decide, Master,” Ranee said slowly, then added firmly, “but I could please you much better than her if you were to let me, Master.”

  “Is that so, slave?”

  “I know it, Master.”

  “How so, slave? You are both fully trained to give pleasure to men, and each of you wears the rings of a slave at your breasts and bellies, do you not?”

  Ranee glanced down at the gold transfixing her nipples then raised her flushed cheeks to gaze at him. “That is true, Master,” she agreed. “But I wear your rings with love and pride, while she would remove them if she could, for she still desires freedom.”

  “And you do not, slave?”

  “No, Master,” Ranee replied simply. “I can never be free, my Master; for, in my heart, I am a slave. I know I can never go back, and I would not choose to.”

  Her words only confirmed what both Adams and she already knew, and he smiled down at her then seized her head in his strong hand and pulled her lips to his, his tongue plundering her mouth in the almost-brutal kiss of a Master as the fingers of his free hand explored the velvet moistness of her parted sex.

  Unable to see either her Master or Ranee, but knowing that her helpless surrender to the whip and the chain in her sex was clearly visible to them both, Belinda moaned a wordless protest into her gag at Ranee’s assertion that she was better able to please a Master.

  It wasn’t true…Belinda knew that her body could give exquisite pleasure to any man, and she longed for the chance to prove it to Philip…even though she understood that he would make her serve him as a full slave.

  At one time, such a thing would have been unthinkable…but no longer, for Belinda wore the collar and rings of a slave; and, for a slave, absolutely nothing was unthinkable if a Master so decided.

  Ranee’s soft gasps and moans of pleasure only added to Belinda’s frustration as she listened to the sounds of her Master arousing the Indian girl…never once considering that her envy of Ranee was the clearest possible proof of her own complete submission to bondage and sexual slavery.

  Adams gave a final caress to Ranee’s slick belly and chuckled, “That’s enough for now, slave. I think it’s time the randy bitch had some exercise. You can have an hour then bring her back. And I expect to see some sweat, so don’t take it easy on her.”

  “You can rely on me, Master,” Ranee gave a tinkling laugh; and, as Adams chuckled a second time, Belinda whimpered in fear, recognising the cruel anticipation in Ranee’s amusement.

  Sinking back into his chair and sipping at his wine, Adams watched as one of his slaves prepared the other for her exercise, his eyes gleaming as Ranee released Belinda’s wrists from the chain above her and quickly clipped them to the rear of her collar, framing the English blonde’s gagged and blindfolded face between her own bent elbows before freeing her ankles from the iron pegs.

  Belinda squealed shrilly as the glistening chain was pulled from her sex and trembled wildly as the ends were clipped into the rings piercing her nipples; Ranee kept a firm grip on the centre links of the chain to use as a leash.

  “Very nice, Ranee,” Adams grinned admiringly at the girl’s bondage skills. “Off you go, then. Oh, and take this, too,” he handed her his leather crop. “Don’t forget, I want her worked hard.”

  “I understand, Master. Is she to be permitted to climax, Master?”

  Adams laughed mockingly, “I doubt if either of us could stop the bitch from doing that!” he sneered. “And I certainly don’t care. She’s a trained sex slave; so, if she comes, she comes. It won’t stop me taking her when and how I choose to.”

  Belinda’s muffled wail of horror and anguish was cut short as Ranee jerked the chain in her hand; and, as the rings at her breasts tugged painfully at her pierced flesh, the helpless blonde stumbled forward from the shade of the tree and ou
t into the hot Indian sunshine.

  Utterly at the mercy of her female tormentor, Belinda whimpered and gasped as Ranee increased her pace, the double leash to her nipple rings tightening and forcing her to follow blindly as she was led to and fro around the walled garden, twinges of pain shooting through her breasts as unpredictable changes of direction and speed caused one or other of the chains to pull tight.

  Resistance was quite impossible…Ranee had total control and could inflict unbearable torment with a simple twist of her fingers….and, as Belinda surrendered to the demands transmitted to her breasts by the chains, she felt renewed slave heat ignite in her belly to the erotic excitement of her absolute helplessness. Despite her terror and discomfort, wave after wave of sexual arousal surged through her body, her nipples hardening like pebbles and belly churning as she surrendered to her bondage and Ranee’s dominance. A dominance reinforced by the Indian slave’s silence.

  Not a single word, not a single command, came from her lips; and, as Belinda was forced to interpret Ranee’s wishes by the cruel tugging of the chains linking her to her tormentor, the slim blonde felt her submissive passion grow ever higher and stronger as she struggled to anticipate her captor’s actions and save herself from the girl’s displeasure.

  Upward pressure from the chains sent Belinda into standing display position, her thighs hugely spread and back arched to exhibit her breasts and belly; downward pressure brought her to her knees, equally displayed; further downward pressure placed her in punishment position, her forehead pressed to the dusty earth and buttocks raised high in the air; and, as she offered herself in each of the humiliating, sexually exposed poses she had learned so well, her sex grew wet and slick to the thrilling knowledge of her absolute subjugation and sweat trickled in rivulets down her breasts and belly and thighs as she arched and bent and stretched her body over and over again.

  The crop snapped at her thighs and belly and breasts as Ranee adjusted the position of Belinda’s naked body, forcing her to open and present herself even more shamefully, but not once was the silence broken between them…except by gasps and soft squeals as leather striped the blonde’s flesh with stinging lines of heat as her efforts failed to meet with Ranee’s approval.

  Conditioned by many months of ruthless training to respond to any and all forms of stimulation, Belinda was incapable of resisting the arousal imposed on her; and, as Ranee’s crop cracked across her upraised bottom cheeks then slid between the lips of her ringed labia and over the fleshy button of her engorged clitoris, a series of massive contractions racked her belly and a flood of scalding love juices erupted into her gaping sex as a first devastating orgasm swept over her.

  Squealing in ecstasy, Belinda clamped her thighs together in an effort to intensify the deliciously pleasurable sensations raging through her body….but Ranee had no intention of allowing her to linger over the pleasure she had worked so hard to achieve. Pulling the crop from her hapless victim’s pulsing body and tugging cruelly at the chains to her swollen nipples, Ranee forced Belinda to her feet and resumed her exercising of the gagged, blindfolded English slave, compelling her quivering, sweating, sex-stained captive into a stumbling, weaving trot around the garden, stopping frequently to make her display her obedience.

  Terrified and utterly subjugated, Belinda climaxed a second time, not even daring to flinch as the whip flicked at the stone hard buds of her rigid nipples, sending jolts of intense arousal through her breasts and down into her seething belly as Ranee exerted her power over the kneeling blonde to trigger renewed convulsions and bring fresh rivers of silvery juices pouring from her body as she came with awesome intensity.

  Then, to Belinda’s disbelief and horror, the cycle began again.

  Staggering on rubbery legs, dripping with sweat and with the juices of her enforced lust still oozing from her belly, Belinda whimpered and forced her body into the punishment position as the merciless chains…and the even more merciless Ranee…pulled her to her knees. Panting for breath in her distress, the anguished blonde waited helplessly for the inevitable assault on her tortured body, knowing that, even though she was near exhaustion, still more frantic responses could be extracted from her slave trained frame if her captor demanded.

  As a slave, it was not in her power to control her submission or her sexual passions…both had been ingrained into her by totally dominant Masters…and it was they, never she, who would decide how often and how deeply she would respond.

  The whip hissed down, painting a line of burning fire across her buttocks, and she fought back a scream as heat flared through her flesh and through her belly.

  A deep chuckle reached her ears, and she groaned in misery and humiliation as Adams ordered, “That’s enough for now, Ranee. I can see that you have made the slut work for the pleasure she has had. Leave her there and come to me. You deserve a reward and seeing her in that position with your whip marks all over her. It leaves me in need of your services. Wrists to ankles, slave, and not a sound.”

  Belinda heard him rise from his chair then shuddered wildly as she felt his strong hand stroke her upraised buttocks.

  “And as for you, you randy little trollop, I shall whip you myself when Ranee has satisfied me.” His cold voice sent a chill down her bent spine. “And after that, bitch, I shall see how well a slave slut can pleasure me with her mouth and lips.”

  Belinda understood then that she was to be made to wait, in her chains and her shame, as her former fiancée enjoyed Ranee’s charms and skills, her stained, naked body on show until Adams, the cruellest Master of the three she had to serve, chose to whip and use her as the hot, helpless slave she was and would always be.

  He would show her no mercy; and, as Belinda listened to the sounds of her Master beginning to take Ranee, her belly swirled and burned with furious, delicious heat to the knowledge that she actually longed to be used by him in any way he commanded…for in her heart of hearts, she knew that, when he did, it would satisfy her deepest and most fervent desires.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  May 12, 1877

  Arabella lay on her side, fast asleep on the polished mahogany floorboards at the side of her Master’s huge brass bed, her head pillowed on her right arm and one leg crossed over the other.

  From the soft mattress above her, Colonel Randolph Mayhew gazed down at the unconsciously provocative pose her naked body formed, and his lips twisted into a wry smile as he drank in the smooth curves of her breasts and buttocks and thighs.

  With the gold rings he had personally locked through her pierced flesh gleaming at her nipples and labia; and, with a short chain linking her nose ring to an eye-bolt screwed into the bedpost at his side, she was the very picture of a captive slave and nothing at all like the cool, reserved, and rather inhibited young lady he had married.

  After more than a year in bondage, serving him and his colleagues as a humble and obedient sex slave, she had changed so much that he doubted whether her few acquaintances back in England would even recognise her…not that they would have the opportunity, for Arabella would never meet them again.

  In the polite Victorian society where both he and Arabella had been brought up, slavery was a topic that was only ever mentioned as a casual, after-dinner discussion of the philosophical and moral implications…and never in front of the ladies. To introduce Arabella, a genuine slave, into such circles, would create a scandal of immense proportions.

  Ladies would faint, men would be outraged, his career would be ruined, and both he and Arabella would be ostracised at best and almost certainly prosecuted and thrown into jail for daring to shake society’s firmly held and comfortable belief that such things simply could not happen…not, at least, to English women.

  He knew differently and, with a soft chuckle, reached down and gently caressed her left breast, his eyes gleaming as she gave a contented sigh and her spine arched to press her breast towards his fingers, even though she was still deep in sleep. He caressed her again, more firmly, and her eyelids f
luttered open as the stimulation brought her awake.

  With a fluid grace that he found extremely erotic, Arabella rose to her knees, head tilted to reveal the collar around her slender throat, thighs widely spread, and her wrists crossed behind her back to display her body in the lovely exposure of a slave’s submission to a Master.

  Her reaction was instinctive, done without conscious thought; and, as Mayhew gazed at her posed nudity, knowing with absolute certainty that she would neither move until he chose to give her permission, or speak until spoken to, he marvelled, once again, at the good fortune that had delivered her into his power to use as he desired.

  As far as the outside world was concerned, Arabella no longer existed, for in his reports to his headquarters in England, he had written that she and Belinda Wallace had perished in an outbreak of cholera almost a year previously, soon after he had taken the decision to enslave them both.

  It was not an uncommon event and had aroused no suspicion…he had even received a letter of condolence from his superiors in London…and he knew that the women’s future now rested entirely in his hands with no danger of awkward questions being asked. He had not, however, seen fit to tell them of their fictitious demise, feeling it could make no conceivable difference to their lives and service as his slaves.

  Knowing nothing of the falsified report that had sealed the fates of Belinda and herself, Arabella shivered as her Master lifted her breasts and took her nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking each sensitive bud then using his teeth to tug gently at the rings piercing her flesh.

  The touch of his lips and the knowledge that his teeth need only tug just a little harder to change her pleasure into pain…and certainly would if she broke her pose or displeased him in any way…sent thrills of masochistic excitement racing through Arabella’s body and caused her nipples to stiffen to aching hardness in a matter of seconds.