Submissives of the Colonel Page 4

  Ranee was only a young girl, yet she dominated and punished and forced Arabella to submit with consummate ease.

  Razak and his men were far stronger and infinitely more ruthless; and, as she faced the dreadful prospect of having to please them, the brunette fought to control her panic. Some of them had already taken her, and one had whipped her without mercy when she had tried to resist him….and that had been before she knelt before Razak and submitted herself as his slave. How much more would be demanded of her now? Even as her brain framed the question, Arabella realised that she already knew the answer.

  Anything….and everything.

  Kneeling in the dust under a hot Indian sun, in chains and learning how to display her body for the pleasure of dominant men, Arabella shuddered as a glow of arousal warmed her belly.

  Until she was ransomed, she must obey her Masters and knew she would be cruelly punished if she was not fully pleasing.

  She had no choice, for now, she was a slave.

  Chapter Five

  Led through the camp towards Razak’s tent, Belinda shuddered as a group of warriors turned to watch her naked bondage, their eyes assessing her body and some calling out to Amal.

  “Bring her over here, Amal. Where are you taking her?”

  “Yes, let us have her. Prince Razak won’t mind us having some fun.”

  “I haven’t tried a Memsahib. I want to see what I’ve been missing.”

  Amal grinned back. “Me too. But not yet, my friends. You’ll have to wait just a bit longer. The Prince gets to use her first, but our turn will come.”

  The warriors laughed at his words, but Belinda knew that neither they nor Amal were joking. When Razak was finished with her, she almost certainly would be given to them to use as they pleased, and her eyes widened as she imagined herself at their mercy.

  Distracted by appalling visions of her future, she was almost grateful when Amal dragged her away and into the tent…but only until she saw the device into which she was to be bound as she awaited Razak.

  Constructed of heavy black iron, it consisted of two “T” shaped bars driven deep into the earth some three feet high, one twice the length of the other. The shorter was set a yard behind the other and had a second, much longer parallel cross-piece at ground level. Both were ominously festooned with broad leather straps to hold a victim securely.

  Belinda froze as she saw it, but Amal yanked sharply at the chain to her collar, forcing her to stumble forward.

  “Don’t give me any trouble, slave,” he warned coldly, “or I’ll take my whip to you before the Prince even gets here.” He pushed her into position with her belly pressed tight to the shorter bar.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered; and; as Belinda obeyed, trembling, Amal looped leather straps to each of her ankle cuffs and pulled her legs apart, then knotted the straps to hold her widely splayed.

  Ignoring her muffled pleas, he seized her blonde hair and bent her forward and down to the longer bar, passing a broad leather strap around her neck and back to the bar, tying it tightly so that she could not struggle without threatening to choke herself. Only then did her release her arms, pulling each out to opposite ends of the bar and binding her wrists and elbows to the thick metal.

  Bent over, with her torso parallel to the ground, arms held out from her sides at full extent, and with her legs massively spread and belly pressed tight to the shorter bar, Belinda was utterly helpless and utterly vulnerable; and, when he buckled a padded leather blindfold over her eyes, she whimpered in despair as the hot glow of arousal in her belly grew hotter still.

  Her full breasts hung free beneath her, her sex gaped, and her buttocks thrust upwards in lewd invitation; and, as she explored her situation, her breath came faster as she understood the shameful ingenuity of her bondage. There was absolutely nothing she could do to defend herself or prevent her violation, while Razak…or Amal…or any of the men in the camp…had total, unhindered access to every part of her body. She could be aroused, or taken, or even whipped, and she could barely even wriggle. With her eyes sealed, she would not even be permitted to know who used her.

  To her intense humiliation, she felt her nipples twitch and begin to stiffen and a slow ooze of wet heat moisten her sex as her body prepared itself, but she could not hold back the instinctive response, and her gagged cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her reaction betrayed her to Amal’s knowledgeable gaze.

  “Aha! It seems I was wrong about you, slave,” he laughed mockingly. “Perhaps you are not as cold and frigid as I feared. That is just as well, for your sake. My Prince is not known for his patience with slaves, and he has no love for you British.”

  He sent his fingers to Belinda’s dangling breasts, rolling and squeezing her firm globes and semi-erect nipples until her flesh swelled and her twin buds hardened like stones to his touch, her gasps and moans telling of the desire he had awakened within her.

  Straightening up, he sent his coarse, work-hardened palms cracking down across Belinda’s unprotected buttocks. The sound of his hands meeting her bottom was like gun shots as he applied half a dozen painfully hard spanks. He laughed cruelly as she squealed to the blistering heat raging through her flesh.

  “Like my Prince,” he said harshly, “I have no love for you British either. Remember that, slave, when you kneel in your chains before me. Remember it and serve me well.” With that, he strode from the tent.

  Weeping, and in pain, she could do nothing to alleviate, Belinda whimpered and sobbed, but even as her bottom burned and stung, her arousal intensified, and she knew that she would have welcomed being taken by Amal, even though he frightened her, and she knew that he would have used her ruthlessly and without mercy. Confused by feelings she had never experienced before about any man and unable to cope with the heat of sexual excitement that rippled through her belly and set her erect nipples throbbing, Belinda was in no state to resist anyone determined enough to enforce her submission.

  Especially a Master such as Prince Razak.

  The tall slaver was in no mood to waste time on a lowly slave; and, as he walked up behind Belinda, released his rigid erection and thrust it deep into her sex, she screamed in shock and anguish as he penetrated her with brutal strength and total arrogance. Helplessly bound in the whipping frame, she could not even move to lessen the depth or impact of his savage lunges; and, as his thick shaft bludgeoned into her body and his hands clamped on her breasts, the squealing blonde was able only to endure her merciless ravaging as best she could.

  In a matter of seconds, she was forced into a first climax; and, as her belly pulsed to send heated juices spraying down over his buried length, she wailed her shame and despair into the gag sealing her lips, realising that she was being taken as a slave….and far more humiliatingly….that she was responding as a slave.

  The feel of her powerful spasms and of her internal muscles clamping and relaxing around his maleness spurred Razak on to greater efforts; and, as his thrusts grew deeper and more powerful, driving to the very core of her churning belly, Belinda gasped in disbelief and fear as the furious heat of her passion, far from dissipating, grew ever more intense.

  Her brain screamed, “No! No more!” but her body could not obey, spiralling higher and higher, beyond her ability to control, in thrall to the sexual dominance of a true Master.

  Belinda’s belly convulsed a second time, and then a third as she submitted utterly to the inferno of lust that engulfed her; and, as her scalding juices crashed down and she screamed again and again to the terrible ecstasy of her subjugation, Razak reached his peak. His seed exploded into her; and, as Belinda felt the jets of his release hose into her shuddering belly. Her fingers clawed at the empty air and her shrieks of despairing rapture told of her absolute capitulation to her Master as a fourth gigantic orgasm erupted through her tightly bound body, and she came helplessly, her juices flowing in rivers to mix with his in the boiling cauldron of her belly.

  Aghast at the havoc created in her body, Belinda whi
mpered in terror as Razak pulled from her belly, leaving her trembling to the ferocious spasms that still raged deep within her.

  “You have a slave’s fire in your belly,” he told her coldly. “That is good, and I am pleased with you.”

  Belinda slumped in her bonds, her mind reeling to his words. It could not be true…it must not be true…but, even as she told herself that he was wrong, her belly pulsed with undiminished power and her brain filled with a terrible dread as her body proved him right.

  She was no longer in control of her own unleashed passions; and, as the horrifying realisation crashed into her brain, a line of scorching heat blazed across her presented buttocks.

  Belinda shrieked in pain as Razak whipped her, screaming for mercy as he painted her pale flesh with an intersecting web of furiously stinging stripes from her thighs to the topmost curves of her vainly clenching bottom cheeks, but she was helplessly bound into the whipping frame and her most desperate plunges and heaves could not free her or evade the leather that snapped and bit at her until she wept and sobbed to the red heat of her torment.

  At intervals, his fingers penetrated her sex, probing her with practised skill; and, to her terror and humiliation, his touch ignited and stoked an inferno of uncontrollably submissive lust in her churning belly, driving her unwanted arousal to higher and still higher levels until she responded frantically to both his caresses and his whip, no longer able to differentiate pain from pleasure, her whole body shot through with wave after wave of unbearable passion far too strong to control or resist.

  Belinda screamed to be given a climax, begged for it, needed it with every fibre of her being and would have done anything, said anything, to be given it…but she was being trained, and Razak was careful to ensure that his anguished prisoner did not reach the sexual release she craved.

  Twice he took his fingers and whip from her, leaving her shuddering on the very brink of orgasm; and, twice, Belinda wept and pleaded into her gag to be taken as a slave, her desire to submit intensifying as her body demanded satisfaction she could not supply…then intensifying again as he resumed his calculated assault. Until, as her bound nudity vibrated with pent-up need and her sex oozed with the juices of her overwhelming need, the merciless slave-Master judged that Belinda was ready to condemn herself to the limitless slavery he had always intended to force upon her.

  “Make your choice, woman,” he said coldly. “Declare yourself of your own free will to be my slave or remain silent and continue to resist.” He unbuckled Belinda’s gag and snatched it from her jaws. Experienced in the enforced subjugation of helpless females, Razak knew that she could make only one decision; and, as Belinda screamed, “I submit! I submit as your slave! Take me, Master. Please, I beg you, Master!” his eyes glittered, and he thrust the gag back into her mouth.

  Belinda shuddered in fear, enslaved by her own words, then screamed as his whip slashed across her smarting buttocks. He snapped, “I accept your submission, slave. You will now climax as a full slave to your Master’s whip.”

  Her trembling body arched in her bonds, her fingers clawing, and a frantic shriek of terrified ecstasy leaking past her gag as he thrust the braided leather handle of his whip into her sex. A gigantic climax burst over her, her internal muscles sucking his whip deep into her body while a boiling maelstrom of love juices thundered into her convulsing belly as Belinda surrendered to the devastating fury of a slave’s orgasm to the whip of a Master.

  Razak gazed down at the climaxing blonde and his dark eyes glittered, recognising in the intensity of her submission, the passion of a natural slave. He pulled his whip from her belly and wiped it clean in her long blonde hair. He spoke harshly, “Only a slave would submit to the whip as you have submitted. Tomorrow, you will join your friend to begin your training with Ranee.”

  Belinda whimpered to the fear and humiliation of her abject surrender as Razak moved a chair to within easy reach of her naked body and sat at his ease, his whip resting across his muscular thighs as he surveyed the firm curves of her dangling breasts and the trembling of her belly as her orgasm slowly waned. For a full half hour, he made no move to touch her, letting the full impact of her helpless submission sink into her brain, then he lifted his whip…

  Belinda squealed in hopeless despair as her Master flicked his wrist casually and the whip snapped upwards to bite into the soft flesh of her defenceless belly, but she was held by her tight bondage and couldn’t evade the stinging leather or the shameful heat that instantly re-ignited as the ruthless slaver exerted his absolute power over her with callous flicks of his whip to her belly and breasts and thighs. Despite her best efforts to resist, the torment quickly broke down her last feeble defences; and, as her body writhed helplessly in her bonds, unstoppable arousal stormed through her belly to set her pleading wordlessly into her gag for Razak to come to her and take her a second time. Even though she knew that, if he did, she would be taken as a slave, in bondage and at the mercy of his whip and his determination to enforce her total submission to his will…...

  A final cruel stripe burned across her belly; and, as Belinda moaned in pain, Razak rose from his chair and tugged the gag from her jaws and the blindfold from her eyes, then stood directly in front of her.

  “You have submitted as a full slave,” he said harshly. “Pleasure me with your mouth, slave, or you will be whipped for your disobedience.”

  Belinda gasped in stunned disbelief, her shocked eyes transfixed by the sight of Razak’s erect maleness only inches away from her soft lips.

  “No,” she whispered. “No, please. I…I can’t. I…I…just can’t.”

  “Then you will be whipped, slave.” The whip hissed down, branding a line of scorching, blazing heat across her defenceless buttocks.

  Belinda’s terrified scream of pain and anguish ended in a muffled groan as Razak’s strong hand gripped her jaw, his fingers digging into her cheeks. “Serve me, slave. My patience is at an end. It is not for a slave to decide how she will serve her Master.”

  The whip whistled down again, and Belinda screamed a second time then shrieked, “Mercy, Master! No more, I beg you, Master. I will serve you as a slave, Master, I promise, I promise, Master.”

  Razak gave a cruel laugh. “Very well, slave. I know you British always keep your promises, so you may now pleasure me as you have promised.”

  Belinda sobbed in misery but understood that she had no other choice; and, with a groan of unbearable misery, she allowed her soft lips to part.

  With a sharp forward jerk of his hips, Razak sank his erection into her mouth; and. for the first time in her life, the dreadfully humiliated blonde felt her cheeks bulge around a man’s rampant shaft, and she tasted the musky flavour of the fleshy gag sealing her lips.

  Tightly bound in the whipping frame and with her buttocks stinging with the fire of her punishment, Belinda was completely helpless and dared not try to eject him from her mouth; and, as her Master forced her to serve him in the most intimate and shameful manner, tears ran down her cheeks, and she sobbed in black despair.

  Razak spared her nothing, subjugating her utterly, ordering her to lick and suck his flesh as he desired and enforcing his orders with sharp cuts of his whip to her naked buttocks until she obeyed, her lips and tongue sliding up and down his rigid shaft as she pleasured him like the submissive sex slave he had forced her to become…and to her horrified shock, Belinda felt her sex grow wet and slick with her body’s juices as unwanted arousal coursed through her belly. She tried desperately to deny it, to fight against the insidious excitement that stiffened her nipples and lubricated her belly; but, as her body gradually slipped from her control and she began to tremble and gasp to the undreamed-of power of the storm of sexual passion that engulfed her, her responses became ever deeper and more intense and her lips and tongue redoubled their efforts to please and satisfy the cruelly dominant Master whose ruthless treatment of her forced her far beyond the limits of anything she had experienced before.

  To a gir
l like Belinda, brought up in the refined and genteel atmosphere of Victorian England, the pleasuring of a man in such a humiliating manner happened only in brothels, by women of ill repute; and, although she had heard rumours of such activities, she had never imagined, for a moment, that it would ever be something that she would be forced to do. England was far away, though, and Belinda was bound as a slave, her naked body bearing the smarting stripes of a cruel whipping.

  Able to deny him nothing, the punished, terrified blonde served him fully and well, her tears of misery and shame running down her bulging cheeks as she submitted to his pitiless mastery and sucked him to his sexual peak.

  His hands darted beneath her bound body and fastened on her swollen breasts, his fingers capturing her erect nipples; and, as he rolled and squeezed the hardened buds, she squealed in dreadful anguish and her belly convulsed in unstoppable spasms as an orgasm of shattering power sent rivers of heated love juices pouring into her sex to betray the intense need his arrogant dominance had forced upon her.

  Deep in her mouth, his fleshy shaft throbbed and pulsed as he saw and felt her surrender, and then his climax exploded, his seed gushing into her throat in torrents to set the seal on her utter subjugation. Belinda swallowed in great choking gulps as her mouth filled with his hot spend, her humiliation complete as some escaped past her stretched lips to dribble down her chin and neck as further incontrovertible evidence of her shameful defeat. Stunned and devastated by Razak’s pillaging of her body and appalled by her own debauched reactions to it, Belinda wept bitterly as he slid from her mouth and re-inserted her gag.

  He chuckled and told her, “You serve quite well for one who is not yet trained, slave. But you will soon serve even better as you learn to bring exquisite pleasure to your Masters. Now, you may rest for a while until I choose to use you again.”