Return to Sessia Ch. 04

There were introductions all around. The tall, intimidating-looking woman in white was Cheryl and her less tall, less imposing-looking assistant was Caroline. They both were both all smiles and handshakes as they chatted with Victoria and Gretchen. And then my mistress stood next to me and explained my punishment while Cheryl and Caroline used ropes to tie me to something they called a punishment post. It was the same height as a whipping post, but about three or four times wider. There were also stainless steel rings along the sides that could be used to tie my wrists and ankles to. Finally right about at waist height there was something that looked like an 18-inch long padded battering ram attached to the post. Cheryl and Caroline bound me to the post spread-eagle style with the padded thing pressed into the small of my back. This forced my naked body into the awkward position of not only having my arms and legs far apart, but arching my back into an extreme arch and forcing my breasts and pussy far forward, so that they were extremely available for fondling or pinching or whipping.

I squirmed in my bondage and wondered how cruelly these women would take advantage of my vulnerable position.

Even before they began to punish me I was already making sounds of distress. This is not an easy position to stand in. It's difficult on my spine, it's difficult on my inner thighs and it's difficult on the arms and shoulders. They had me stretched out and helpless and in actual pain before the punishment even started.

"We start with your nipples," Cheryl explained and she produced two stainless steel nipple clamps. Without any more warning than that, she opened their strong jaws and allowed them to bite down on my poor, sensitive, swollen, erect nipples.

I tried to be brave for the cameras, but those horrible metal jaws bit into my poor, sensitive flesh hard! I started to whimper and shed tears almost instantly. A girl's nipples are just too delicate to be treated so harshly. There's a huge concentration of nerve endings in a girl's nipples and biting into my nipples with stainless steel jaws is just too painful. A girl just can't be brave when her nipples are being brutally abused like this!

"Now, one of the things about nipple clamps," Cheryl explained, sounding somewhat like a college professor lecturing her students, "Is that they'll hurt less if you keep your nipples immobilized. If your boobs bounce up and down, the clamps will bounce up and down and tug on the sensitive flesh that they're attached to. And that; of course; will just make the pain in your nipples much worse."

That warning sounded awfully ominous and I rather suspected I knew what it foretold. My heart began to beat my faster and my pulse raced. My nipples were already in agony. I couldn't possibly endure any greater pain.

Within seconds Caroline produced a wicked, black leather whip. It was one of the smallest whips I had ever seen. However I've learned that in the world of BDSM, small size does not always mean harmless.

The whip looked to have nine leather lashes, each approximately nine or ten inches in length. The shorter lashes didn't necessarily mean that they would hurt less when they struck my naked skin. Although it did mean that the woman who used it on my naked skin would have more control and would have an easier time aiming at her intended target.

Caroline handed the whip to Cheryl and Cheryl proceeded to whip my naked body.

I resolved to use all of the self-discipline at my command and to remain utterly still, no matter how much Cheryl's little whip hurt. After all; just as Cheryl said; the more I moved, the more my nipples were going to throb with unbearable pain.

Thwack! Cheryl ruined all of my plans with her very first blow. Her small whip cut through the air and the leather lashes landed on my inner thigh, high up and less than an inch from my pubic lips. The stinging pain on my naked skin caused me to lose all self-control. I jerked against my ropes and caused my breasts to jerk up and down, multiplying the pain in my nipples.

"Aiiaagghhhh!!" I gave up any plans for self-control. The whip stung far too cruelly for me to attempt stoicism.

Thwack! The next cut stung worse than the first and landed directly on my swollen, wet, pink pubic lips. I struggled desperately to close my legs together, but of course the ropes defeated my struggles. All I managed to do was tremble and shake and bounce the nipple clamps some more, making my poor nipples suffer even more.

"Aaaarrgghhh!" I attempted to form words and beg for mercy, but honestly I was in so much pain, I couldn't seem to get the language center of my brain to function. All I could do was scream inarticulately.

Thwack! Thwack! Cheryl picked up speed. The smallness of the whip meant that she didn't have to raise her arm up and down to whip my naked flesh. All she really had to do was snap her wrist. It meant that she could mark my naked skin far faster than she could with a long whip. There was no time between cuts for me to relax.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Cheryl continued to abuse my naked skin, most of the blows landing on my poor, aching pussy. My poor, sopping wet sex had been aching for days due to constant teasing and sexual frustration, but the whipping brought a much sharper and more extreme pain.

I lost count of how many times Cheryl whipped my naked body, although all of her blows were aimed at one of the most delicate parts of my anatomy. Sometimes the lashes of her whip landed on my tender inner thighs. Sometimes her wicked whip cracked against my poor, swollen, delicate pubic lips and sometimes her whip even swished through the air to deliver unbelievable pain to my swollen clitoris, which was peeking out from its protective hood.

"Ohhhhghhaaahhhhh," I screamed, incapable of actual speech, but Cheryl just continued to whip my sensitive pussy, making it redder and redder.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

There I was, a naked girl, screaming in pain, bound to a post with painful clamps stinging her nipples and a leather whip, cruelly delivering pain to her defenseless, exposed, swollen pubic lips. I hoped the Sessian media and their loyal viewers appreciated the show I was putting on for them.

Eventually the whipping stopped and I was allowed to stand there, sobbing, my chest heaving; the clamps on my nipples hurting worse than ever.

My vision was blurry with tears and my pussy, inner thighs and nipples burned with a pain that no girl should ever have to endure. Caroline walked between me and Cheryl and in a casual tone of voice asked, "How bad is the pain?"

I couldn't think of words sufficient to describe just how bad the pain really was, so I simply replied, "Real bad."

As I was answering Caroline's question, she reached over and unclamped the steel clamps that had been biting into my nipples. This may sound like a mercy, however once the clamps were removed, it meant that more blood could circulate into my poor, abused nipples and that meant a lot more pain as the blood flooded back in.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! As soon as Caroline removed the metal jaws from my poor, pained nipples, Cheryl took her little whip and proceeded to whip each of my breasts, aiming directly for my poor abused nipples.

"Oh gawwwwd nooooooo, please, nooooooo, aaaaauuuuuuggggggg!" I screamed, but Cheryl ignored my protests and continued to whip my breasts until every inch of them was throbbing in pain.

Cheryl and Caroline smiled and seemed to be quite pleased at how they had physically abused my poor naked body. I didn't smile I just sobbed in pain and occasionally looked down and my reddened naked body. My breasts, loins and inner thighs all looked as if they had a bad case of sunburn. I would have been grateful if it were only sunburn. I actually got sunburn on my breasts when I was a teenager and had gone skinny-dipping with some girls from school. None of us brought sunblock and after we got out of the water I had to spend almost two hours in the hot sun chasing a girl who had stolen my clothes. The sunburn that I had gotten on my breasts was painful, but not as painful as this.

"Well, Darling," Gretchen said after I had been given some time to adjust to the severity of the pain my body was enduring, "Do you think that this little punishment has taught you the value of obeying all of my orders quickly?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied eagerly, "Oh yes!" I didn't ever want to be punished like this again.

"Excellent," Gretchen replied, "That's exactly the sort of response a mistress loves to hear. Now we can get on to the matter of your second punishment."

"Second punishment?"

"Victoria told me all about how you were rubbing your thighs together when she was in the hotel room with you. You know that slaves are always supposed to keep their legs apart. When you break basic rules of slave etiquette like that I have to punish you!"

I had no idea that Victoria knew anything about the rules that slaves were supposed to follow. I had assumed that she was rather ignorant when it came to slave etiquette.

"Of course, now that everything we do is watched and recorded by the European media, we have to make certain that your punishments are flashy and erotic and titillating. Pain isn't nearly as important as presentation these days."

I looked over at the area of the park where the reporters and cameramen and photojournalists had taken over. They were watching me intently, waiting to see what would happen to me next. I trembled at the thought of what sort of horrible thing Gretchen had in store for me.

"You broke the rules because of the throbbing need in your pussy," Gretchen explained to me. "You thought that having your swollen clitoris attended to was more important than being an obedient slave. I am therefore going to make certain that your pussy is attended to today. Somebody is going to pay a lot of attention to your pussy today."

My pussy had just been whipped raw. It would probably take days to recover from the stinging pain that Cheryl had inflicted on it. I didn't want for my pussy to get a lot of attention right now. I whimpered at Gretchen's words and then began to sob once again.

Eventually Caroline returned (I hadn't even realized she had left) and she was accompanied by a naked, female slave. The slave Caroline was escorting towards me was tall and had a very slim, slender body like a young teenage girl, a flat belly with tight abdominal muscles, long shapely legs leading up to a very firm and round, small, tight ass that had apparently been reddened by a very recent spanking (or possibly whipping) and breasts that looked firm and perky and were probably a C-cup. Her nipples were pinkish and her face was cute and sort of oval shaped and framed with blonde hair. Of course her pubic area was shaved bare; Sessian law demands that all slaves must be denied the covering of pubic hair. The slave-girl kept her hands behind the back of her neck as Caroline marcher for towards us.

"This is Heather," Caroline announced. "Her mistress agreed to loan her to us for a few hours. Will she do for what you have in mind?"

"Well, she's certainly pretty enough," Gretchen responded. "Heather, have you ever eaten a women's pussy before?"

"Yes, Mistress," Heather said. Her accent sounded American. And from the black leather slave collar around her neck, I realized she must be a lesbian.

"I want you to eat this slave-girl's pussy," Gretchen said, pointing to me. "Now, her pussy will be extremely sensitive as she's just been whipped down there. She won't even want you to touch her. But no matter how much she moans and whimpers and begs you to stop, I want you to keep going. Don't stop until I tell you to."

"Yes, Mistress," Heather said and she walked right up to me. She whispered, "I'm sorry," soft enough that I could barely hear her and then she dropped to her knees, stuck her face between my widespread thighs and began to lick my pudendum like a cat. My pussy was throbbing and I was desperate for orgasmic release; however the raw aching flesh of my vaginal folds were so sore and sensitive that Heather's tongue hurt almost as bad as the whip.

At first the heat between my thighs was all pain, but there was something magic about Heather's tongue and somewhere along the line the heat in between my legs started to transform from pure pain to a hybrid sort of heat. Heather's tongue was creating a heat that was fifty percent red-hot pain, but it was also fifty percent thunderous lust. I whimpered and whined and squirmed as Heather licked my poor, abused flesh, but the whimpering wasn't all about pain anymore. Part of it was about this beautiful, lesbian slave-girl stimulating the millions of nerve endings in my clit and bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. Fresh, wet tears rolled down my face as a fire raged madly in my abused, wet sex. My breathing was labored and I let out more inarticulate cries, although they sounded different to me. They sounded more wanton and less tortured.

I moaned and the fire in my loins grew. Heather's tongue was magic on my punished pussy.

Heather licked me to a point of erotic delirium and I panted through orgasm after orgasm while tied to the punishment post, my breasts heaving as my breath came in short, panting gasps, eyes closed in a land of joyous, glorious agony.

When it was over, Caroline and Cheryl applauded. Then Gretchen and several of the patrons in the park joined in and applauded as well.

Then several members of the press began to clap.

Eventually Victoria began to applaud as well, but I think she did it just to be part of the crowd. I'm not at all certain that she understood the significance of what had just happened. I think Gretchen would have to explain it to her later.

Cheryl and Caroline finally untied me from the punishment post and I promptly collapsed. Between the whippings and the massive orgasmic eruption that ripped through my girlish frame, I'd been drained of all energy and my legs wouldn't support me anymore.

"Heather," barked out Cheryl, "Don't just let her collapse onto the ground like that! Help her to her feet!"

Heather was stronger than she looked. The naked slave-girl looked feminine, but had the strength of an athlete. She enveloped me in compassionate arms, lifted us both up with her strong legs and when we were both vertical, Heather held me comfortingly as a mother might a child.

"You're in charge of her until she and her mistress are ready to leave," Cheryl told Heather. "Keep her standing and don't take your hands off of her."

My arms felt weak and rubbery, yet still I attempted to hold onto Heather. Our naked bodies were pressed close to each other and when Cheryl wasn't looking, Heather kissed me on the cheek. Then she nuzzled my face with her face and said in an intimate whisper, "You're adorable".

"You're pretty cute yourself," I whispered back. This comment earned me another kiss.

"I'd love to eat your pussy again when it's all healed up," Heather whispered softly in my ear, while I rested my head on her smooth, rounded shoulder.

"I'd love that too, Heather," I confided to the naked slave-girl, but of course my mistress controlled my entire sex life. There was no way I could have sex with Heather without Gretchen's permission, and Gretchen was obsessed with keeping me in a constant state of sexual tension.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Gretchen had to make some phone calls before we left. Then she had to confer with Victoria. Then Victoria had to make some phone calls. I think mostly they were deciding what was going to be done to me and when and where and how many reporters could they arrange to witness it. I think it's easier for them to plan my life if I'm not actually there.

"C'mon, Slave-girl," Gretchen called out to me when she was ready to go. "Kiss your new friend goodbye and then we have to catch a cab to Kingsbridge!"

I kissed Heather goodbye and my gaze lingered on her longingly before I followed Gretchen out of the park. Heather's naked body was amazing and she was very skilled at cunnilingus. If I had a vote, I would have voted to stay with her a lot longer.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kingsbridge is where Alexandra Sharp lives. Alexandra Sharp is a world-class athlete who represented Sessia in the pole-vaulting competition and won a medal at the 2012 Olympics in London.

She's also firmly in favor of slavery remaining legal in Sessia and made it known that she would be willing to go on record as supporting it. So, a big media event was arranged at her house and it was decided that she and I should meet in front of thirty reporters or more.

When we got to Ms. Sharp's house it definitely looked like "or more"; there where people working the lighting and people setting up a boom mic and cameramen setting up to record and electrical experts setting up electrical cables and whatever else they needed to do a TV broadcast from Alexandra Sharp's home.

When Alexandra came out, ready for the cameras, she looked fantastic.

She had an amazing physique, lovely muscles, super-fit toned body and she was wearing a skimpy outfit of black skintight, spandex/nylon bike shorts, a sports bra and running shoes.

Also, she was tall. I'm five foot, ten and Alexandra was at least three inches taller than me.

Alexandra ignored all of the cameramen and sound men and electrical experts and walked right over to me. "You must be the slave," she said, brilliantly spying the one person in the room who was stark naked and wearing a slave collar.

"Yes, Mistress," I said in awe of her superior height and muscle tone. I could only imagine how many hundreds of hours of intense training it took to get a perfectly sculpted body like hers.

Alexandra was a hand-shaker. We exchanged grips and then she insisted that I not call her mistress. "I'm not into the whole slave/master scene. And anyway all of my friends call me Alex. And your name is..." she paused for a few seconds and read the name on my slave collar, "Diane."

We had a few minutes before they started filming. Basically Alex was going to explain why she was in favor of Sessian slave laws. Then I'd have an opportunity to explain why I was in favor of Sessian slave laws. A few reporters from the crowd would be able to ask questions from both me and Alex and then the whole thing would be over and I could go home.

Alex had an agent or a PR person or a lawyer or some sort of paid professional who introduced both of us. I had a bad case stage fright, but the throbbing pain in my breasts and my pussy reminded me that there were worse things than appearing nude in front of millions of European viewers. I resolved not to freeze up in front of the cameras.

Alex explained that she was a firm believer in the beauty of the human form.

"I go to the punishment parks," she explained, "not because I'm into whipping posts and pillories and all that slave/master stuff, but the slaves in Sessia are testaments to the human body. Every slave contract that the OSI approves, requires that the slave be in excellent physical condition and has a body that is esthetically pleasing. Every slave I've ever seen in this country is low in body fat and has great muscle tone."

As Alex said this, she placed her hands on my body, rubbing a hand across my flat abs in an apparent attempt to show them off. She also turned me around in an apparent attempt to show off how high and firm my ass is to the reporters.

"It's quite obvious that they've taken care of themselves. If you ask me, allowing people like that to strip off their clothes and walk the streets nude is an honor that they've earned."