Katy's Body Pt. 11

Chapter 11: the Slave Competition, Round 1

*With thanks to my editor - Chris6160

My second trip to use my body to sell BDSM gear to assorted sadists had been a great success. It had provided a huge boost to Jason's sales, ensuring that my body would always be welcome there. As a fetish model my reputation had been enhanced by word of mouth. As for me it had been, certainly, the most extreme cruelty that I had caused to be inflicted on my body. It was deeply satisfying to know that I could push it further. My improvisation in using alcohol to generate a defiant attitude had provided a valuable lesson. Dominants like a little defiance from a helpless victim. It makes the punishment harsher and more enjoyable for them.

The success of the occasion prevented me from seeking any further adventures for a time but my tolerance of afternoon coffees with girls, shopping trips and general vanilla life did not last long until I was bored. Vanilla sex, likewise, started to lose its interest. To me I needed my slave life to awaken the deepest passions in me. I almost felt like apologising to my body that it would need to be humiliated and abused soon.

A brief digression on the subject of BDSM. Readers interested only in the story of my body should skip a page. Some interesting facts about BDSM (taken from Psychology Today).

- One survey reported that 64.6% of women and 53.3% of men fantasised about being sexually dominated whilst 46,7% of women and 59.6% of men fantasised about dominating someone. It is, of course, likely that the numbers translating their fantasies into reality are smaller. Those of us with BDSM fantasies are by no means alone. As a woman I am more likely to fantasise about being dominated.

- There are clinical diagnoses of sexual sadism disorder and sexual masochism disorder. These only include "clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning" (or to be done with a non-consenting partner). The vast majority of consensual BDSM activity, therefore, is not in any way a psychological disorder.

- Recent research has shown BDSM practitioners to have lower levels of depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), psychological sadism, psychological masochism, borderline pathology, and paranoia than non-practitioners.

- Both subs and dominants have been found to experience increased closeness in their relationship and reduced stress.

- Subs entered an altered state associated with reductions in pain, feelings of floating, feelings of peacefulness, feelings of living in the here and now, and time distortions. Dominants, in contrast, entered an altered state associated with focused attention, a loss of self-consciousness, and optimal performance of a task. These pleasurable altered states of consciousness are one of the motivations that people have for engaging in BDSM activities.

- Both doms and subs experienced a reduction in psychological stress but subs were found to have increased levels of a hormone associated with physiological stress. In short subs gain in pleasure and reduced stress but show signs of some physical discomfort or pain.

I am not unusual in having submissive fantasies; most females do. I may be in a minority who have actually realised some of these fantasies but I feel sorry for the bored, unsatisfied ones who did not. I am lucky to have a husband who encouraged me to disregard the misconceptions and the inhibitions that those myths caused. I studied psychology myself and can confirm that my experiences have been that it does make me feel more fulfilled and much closer to my husband . In short I am proudly and unashamedly a part-time submissive. Being one unquestionably strengthens my own mental well-being.

In typical BDSM practices there are safe words and pre-arranged limits. These were simply out of the question. I needed to feel that complete control to use and abuse my body had been handed over. As you will already have noticed I had very few uses of my body that I would not happily tolerate and was willing to both push my body to take more and to allow those using it to inflict punishments that I didn't particularly enjoy. Nonetheless, reality means that there must be some unspoken limits that I could only try to pretend didn't exist. Risk of death (asphyxia) or permanent injury (knife play) had to be ruled out. Until now having my husband present or offering my body to friends of friends had worked but we needed a new solution.

My husband's solution was pure genius. We had both used online BDSM forums. In discussion a group of five Masters had agreed on a competition between their five slaves. Gold, silver and bronze certificates would be awarded to the best three. The Masters would form a panel of 5 judges. The Masters agreed that no activity which could result in permanent physical injury or clinical impairment or distress was allowed. Appeals could be made to the panel of judges on the matter. The first round would be in public. A small room with a stage had been booked in a London bar. In addition to the judges and slaves there would an audience of about 20 invited guests. The various challenges would be awarded points from both judges and five volunteers from the audience.

On the public evening the first test was a rating for sexiness. It was simple. Like all the other slaves my hands were tied behind my back and we were kept waiting in the wings fully naked. I was the third to be called and walked freely onto the stage. I am proud of my body and let it show in my stance. I walked to one end of the stage and paused, legs apart, facing the audience, lifted my arms for the judges to see my ass, which I sexily wiggled and bent over to let them see my pussy. I then walked with as sexy a sway as I could the other end and repeated the performance so that the audience could see my ass and pussy.

Needless to say shamelessly exhibiting my naked body to a room full of leering men quickly brought me to an intense state of sexual excitement. I just hoped to delay any sign of my arousal becoming visible on the top of my thighs.

Next I was required to offer my body to each of the judges. I did so submissively. Standing in front of each, legs apart and saying, "here is my body for you to inspect Master" and turning to make my ass available for hands-on appraisal. Again all of the judges mage sure that "hands-on" included my pussy. I tried to make sure that they were aware that I was enjoying the humiliation. Once the judges had completed their inspections five volunteers from the audience conducted similar inspections. Again I submissively offered my body to them. "Here is my body for you to inspect," I said with a knowing smile to let them know their attention was welcome. I was taken back to the dressing room (more an undressing room) until the last two slaves had been inspected. The was a

short wait until the votes had been counted. I had been voted first for sexiness: 5 points to me.

The second challenge of the public round of the competition was walking on a leash. A collar was fitted to each of us slaves. Four of us had piercings. The rules were that leashes could be fitted to any one of the collar, nipples or labia. For the one girl without piercings clamps were provided. Christos, who was acting as my Master for the night (my husband was in the audience), had specified a pussy leash for me. As I waited in the wings I watched one of the other slaves. She was pretty but with a fuller, less toned body. She was being towed by her big breasts, swaying them from side to side. I could tell from the cheers and applause that she was being appreciated by the audience.

My turn was next. I would need to do something to compete - it was her breasts versus my labia. There was a pull on my labia. I knew to resist - not too much must just enough to look as if it was forced. I was walked to one side of the stage, taking care to ensure my labia stayed stretched and trying to wiggle my ass sexily. I was walked back to the start. The leash was handed to each of the judges in turn to tug the leash hard and see the pain on my face. My turn finished I was walked back to some enthusiastic applause. Back in the dressing room with wrists free to move I managed to swallow a couple of gin and tonics. Soon the results of the second challenge were announced. Big tits came first. I secured third place: 3 points.

The third challenge was nearly ready, In the centre of the stage was a spanking bench and they had set up one of spanking machines I had tested at Jason's . The judges had moved from the stage to the front of the audience in order to get a clear view of the beatings to come. One of the other slaves was first up; a slight, short girl. I watched the leather strap remorselessly strike her little ass, pause and then deliver another. Before the required 30 strokes had been delivered she begged for it to stop, shouting out her safe word. The next up had one of those bodies with a huge ass, somewhere between a Jennifer Lopez and a Kim Kardashian. She was milking it by swaying it sexily as she walked to the spanking bench. After each stroke she wiggled (no, she wobbled) that huge ass to accompanying cheers.

I would like to think that I have a very sexy ass, nicely rounded and in proportion to the rest of my body. I took care to walk slowly and sexily to the bench. I bent over slowly and deliberately to tease as my pussy came fully into view. I made sure to take a position which would ensure that my vagina could be seen as my ass was beaten. The humiliation and exhibitionism was exquisite

The machine was adjusted to provide the appropriate force to my rear. The first blow struck - swish, thwack. Well within my tolerance but I gave an exaggerated wiggle from the pain and much more of a gasp than was needed. I wanted to create a sexy impression from my body's reaction to the blow and, to keep the sadists happy, to make the pain seem worse. I tried to make sure my pussy remained visible during the sexy wiggles as each blow struck. Towards the end the pain from the strokes started to accumulate so the need to exaggerate was less. It wasn't just the pain that started to accumulate. The thought that the watching Masters and guests were finding the suffering of my body sexy increased my own arousal by much. My back arched and the wriggling on my ass was increasingly genuine pain. This greatly improved my level of arousal. I am fairly sure that my pussy was visibly moist.

As I was released I decided to try to gain an advantage. I walked sexily to the front of the stage turned away from the audience and bent over, wiggling my ass to show the red marks and letting them see the moistness of my pussy. Applause broke out. Back in the dressing room waiting for the last two slaves to perform I downed two more gin and tonics. The next and final challenge would be the toughest and I wanted to win it. The results came through. The big ass came first in the ass whipping challenge but I came second: another 4 points.

There was quite some wait for the final challenge. It would actually count as two challenges in one. One (challenge 4) was endurance. An independent dominant had been appointed and asked to treat all slaves identically and to continue whipping until each slave used their safe word to stop. Since I had refused a safe word I would go last but to win I would have to take three strokes more than the next highest. Slaves would also be rated on the sexiness of their whipping (challenge 5). A BDSM equivalent to marks for artistic interpretation.

All of the slaves had ankle cuffs added and wrists were cuffed behind our backs and we were taken to the wings. In the centre of the stage was yet another diagonal cross, fixed in place be some kind of metal struts. I front of it stood a young man wielding a demon tail whip - effectively a metal strap about 18 inches or so long but with the business end cut into two narrowing points. I had not faced one of those before.

I didn't really watch the other slaves being beaten but focused on the faces of the judges and guests. I was trying to figure out what best excited their lust. I could hear the count as each slave was whipped. By the time it was my turn the best score to data was 44 strokes so I knew I needed 47 to win on endurance. I had no experience of the demon tail but, with the help of several gin and tonics, I felt confident. There was no leash this time so I walked slowly and sexily to the centre of the stage, I tried to appear proud and offered my body proudly for my wrists to be released and re-attached to the cross. My ankles were similarly fastened. To the extent I could I tried to thrust my body a little away from the wood, as if offering to the whip.

To increase the humiliation the whip was swished through the air and to torment, humiliate and intimidate it was run slowly and gently over my flesh and presented to me to examine. Finally, he was ready and stepped back a little. The right shoulder went back, then a swish and a thwack (not as satisfyingly loud as with a strap). The stroke hit such that the broad part struck my right thigh but the forked snake-like tongues struck my left thigh. A sharp pain shot the through my left thigh. As usual a short pause for my body to react with a partly involuntary wriggle and a gasp from me. The demon tail, as I was about to discover, is one of those "toys" that delivers a sharp, intense pain in a focused location. As with similar implements the intense flash of pain is short-lived.

The next stroke was from the opposite direction, this time delivering an intense sharp pain to my right thigh. Again my squirm was both exaggerated and real, likewise the gasp. This was repeated twice more, first one thigh than the other. The audience kept count: "six". So far I was, as you might expect, I was enjoying it. The initial sharp pain was not itself enjoyable but endurable. The residual warm soreness was much more arousing. What most aroused me was watching the faces. The obvious delight, lust and excitement and the knowledge that many of them would later masturbate over the memory had really turned me on. My sadistic inner self wanted my body to suffer more, much more.

He moved on to target my abdomen. This was in similar fashion a strike first from one side then the other with the sharp pain coming from the side where the forked tongue made contact. Each time was with an involuntary squirm and gasp, both of which I continued to exaggerate in order to make it as sexy as possible. My thighs and abdomen are quite well toned and, hence, the best equipped parts of my body to take blows. A total of six to my abdomen, making 12 in all and, so far, all easily tolerated and enjoyed.

The next strokes were always going to be inflicted on a more sensitive area. The same procedure was applied to my breasts - a stroke from one direction with the intense pain felt for whichever side received the demonic forked tongue. It was more intense pain because of the greater sensitivity but still I could endure the initial hit and enjoy the subsequent hot, sore glow. The squirming and gasping was gradually becoming more genuine and less exaggerated. Six strokes in all to my breasts, now 18 in all. I have small breasts but I wondered later if it would be more or less painful for the slave with huge tits.

I should have paid more attention to the beatings of the other slaves because the first stroke to my pussy was a surprise. I yelped and my body writhed from the unexpected sharp pain in my most sensitive area. I steeled my body to expect more. Whoever thought up this challenge had not taken into account how difficult it is to accurately strike a pussy with such a whip. The second and third strokes missed my labia and hit the inside of each thigh in succession. Strokes four and five were accurate but knowing what to expect made them easier to endure. Stroke six was again off-target. 24 strokes in total so far. I was just over half-way to my target.

The tormentor of my body simply started all over again. Six strokes to my thighs from alternate directions, the six to my abdomen in similar fashion. All the time the sharp initial pain changed little but the residual warm soreness was starting to build. Not that I minded at all; I wanted to take my deserving, subservient body nearer to its limits. Now 36 strokes in total. My breasts were next but, if I was to win, my pussy was where it would end. I was a little surprised that the sharp initial pain was a little less than first time around. Maybe the endorphins were kicking in. I continued to exaggerate the effects of each stroke. My body made it to the end of the second set of six strokes to my breasts.

The audience had increasingly been applauding and cheering each stroke. They were obviously enjoying the cruelty being inflicted on my nude flesh (perhaps nearly as much as my sadistic inner self). 42 strokes was the running total. Now just five more to my already sore labia and I would be there. The first was a real stinger and, likewise the second. There was no exaggeration in my body's reaction to both - a yelp and some contortion. The third was off-target and the fourth. Finally the winning stroke. I could see him taking careful aim and (against the rules) applying even greater force than before. The shot of pain was intense. If I had agreed to a safe word I would have be tempted to use it then. Instead I was released to a standing ovation. There were still the rituals to observe. I was given the whip to kiss and required to address the man wielding the whip: "Thank you Master for punishing my deserving body".

All of us slaves waited in the dressing room for the final outcome. I already knew that I had won the endurance challenge with 47 strokes compared to big tits in second place with 44. For the sexiness of the whipping both my body and that of big tits were voted equal first. With 5 points for each that put me in a clear lead from the first (public) round of the competition. For me it had all the experiences that I needed - exhibitionism, humiliation and punishment of my body; 22 points for the round. From the expressions on the faces of the judges and guests I was fairly certain that many present would be masturbating over the memory. This, too, was very sexy. I couldn't wait to get home for a very thorough fucking.