Enslaved in Europe Ch. 05

"Oh, did you feel that?" the woman asked in a playful, arrogant tone of voice. Does that mean you don't want me to do it again?"

I was too stunned to answer at first, so she grabbed a pubic lip on the other side and pinched that.

The gag muffled my screams again and I squirmed and kicked my legs and pulled at my bonds some more. Tears flowed freely down my face until she eased up her grip.

Finally, when I was able to hold still, she said, "Tell me that you enjoy me fondling you, or I'll pinch them again. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head in agreement, and prayed that this painful, frightening episode would soon be over.

Then she smiled and asked, "You're really enjoying this aren't you?"

It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life, but I nodded my head in agreement, communicating to this woman (who was old enough to be my mother) that I enjoying her fondling my naked flesh and fingering my pussy.

"You're a bad, little girl, aren't you?" she asked.

I nodded my head in agreement, hoping that's the response that she was looking for.

She spent several more minutes fondling me, fingering me and telling me what a bad girl I was for parading around naked in public and for wanting to have sex with other women. It was all so traumatic, I forgot to swallow and ended up drooling all over myself.

Before she left, she reminded me once again what a naughty girl I was, and said she hoped that I was taken to the punishment park soon, so that I could get the harsh punishment I deserved.

* * * * * * * * * *

That creepy woman got her wish. Approximately forty minutes later, Gretchen and I were at the main entrance to the punishment park. Gretchen was dressed in stylish leather boots, designer jeans and a brand new crewneck tee shirt, while I was barefoot, naked, hands bound behind my back and being led around by the leash that was attached to my slave collar.

Admission to the punishment park normally cost sixty euros, however Gretchen got in free because she brought a naked slave with her, and the main reason people come to the punishment parks is to see the naked slaves.

Gretchen got a map of the park, which showed the location of the bathrooms, a first aid office, a security office, a gift shop and (of course) the areas where the slaves are punished.

There was a designated area for the heterosexual slaves, the gay male slaves and the lesbian slaves. Gretchen complained loudly about the fact that the area for the heterosexual slaves was at least three times bigger than the area for the lesbian slaves.

Gretchen had taken the gag out of my mouth, but I knew better than to say anything. She could complain all she wanted, but if I were to say anything (even if it was to agree with her) without permission, I'd earn even more punishments.

Before Gretchen led me to the lesbian section of the park, she led me to the security office. Some sadistic mind had decided that one of the services the security office should offer was free body cavity searches for all slaves that entered the punishment park.

It served no purpose other than to humiliate the slaves. I mean . . . how could we possibly obtain and hide anything in our body cavities? By practice and tradition, the hands of slaves are kept bound most of the time. When and how could any of us grab and conceal any type of keys, lock picks or other contraband?

When we entered the security office, there was already a naked male slave being subjected to a cavity search. His hands were pressed against a wall and he was leaning far forward with his legs far apart.

He was shaking and tears were running down his face as a uniformed security guard roughly fingered his asshole and pretended to be searching for contraband. From the color of his slave collar I could tell he was heterosexual and thus he was almost certainly unaccustomed to having things shoved up his ass.

I waited with nervous anticipation for my turn. The blonde slave boy whimpered and gritted his teeth as the security guard took her time and fingered his exposed, vulnerable anus.

When she was done, she slapped his small, boyish buttocks and ordered him to stand up. His ass was already decorated with red marks and he yelped in pain when her hand made a loud SMACK against his naked ass.

His mistress led him out on a leash, to "enjoy" the punishment park, and then it was my turn.

The mouth is a body cavity and they did spend order me to open my mouth wide while they shined a small flashlight down my throat, but they were much more interested in inspecting my vagina and my anus.

Gretchen unlocked me from my handcuffs and then the security guards ordered me into position. Just like the slave before me, I was made to stand with my legs far apart, bent over, with my hands pushed flat against the wall and me knees straight.

The security guards took a lot of time to make certain that every detail of my position conformed to their specifications. It seemed to me that it was designed to make me feel as vulnerable and exposed as possible.

After they were satisfied that nothing could be done to make my position any more humiliating, one guard took her sweet time snapping on a latex glove and getting into position behind me.

I waited and waited. Every part of my body went tense, waiting for a latex, clad finger to penetrate a very tender part of my anatomy, however the security guard was content to make me wait. I held the position so long that my legs started to feel weak and sweat began to form on my torso and underneath my arms.

Then, when I thought I couldn't take the suspense anymore, I felt the finger slide in deep, into my vagina.

I moaned and felt an orgasm approaching as she fingered me, making only the slightest pretense of doing a cavity search, she roughly fingered my aching cunt and got me closer and closer to a screaming orgasm.

I knew that if I had an orgasm without permission, I'd be punished horribly, but there was little I could do to stop it.

Then, just when it seemed that it was impossible to stop a shuddering orgasm from ripping through my body, the security guard pinched one of my pubic lips and then withdrew the finger from my aching cunt.

I began to sob and hot, wet tears slid down my face. I wasn't certain if I was crying because of the pain or because of the sexual frustration. Somehow I endured both and held the required position, although I trembled and shook slightly as I cried over what was being done to my poor, defenseless body.

Then, without warning a huge blob of cold gel was forced against my tender, tiny anus and a finger forced it's way inside of me.

"That's cold!," I exclaimed, almost falling over because of the shock of the finger coated in cold gel being forced into anal cavity.

"What was that?" I heard Gretchen's stern voice ask, while the finger wriggled and probed inside of me. "Did you just speak without permission?"

It was hard for me to think with that finger moving around inside of me, but I knew I was in trouble. Gretchen had already informed me that I wasn't to speak without getting permission, and here I just been caught in the act!

And I was already inside the punishment park!

"You'll have to be punished for that," Gretchen informed me. "Just as soon as this security guard is done searching you."

Never had I felt do conflicted in my life! This cavity search was humiliating and demoralizing and I wanted it over as soon as possible, but as soon as it was over, Gretchen was going to take me out and do something to me that was agonizingly painful and public. Did I dread the cavity search stopping or did I dread it going on and on?

In the end, it made little difference. The security guard never asked for my opinion and just went at her own pace. When she was done, she smacked my already sore buttocks and told me to stand up.

The guard told Gretchen that I was clean and then the guard had the sadistic sense of humor to tell me to "enjoy the punishment park".

Then Gretchen attached the leash to my collar and handcuffed my hands behind my back. She led me out of the security office and into the punishment park with a smug smile on her face. For my own part, I followed naked, on a leash and started to cry as I was helplessly led over to the whipping posts.