Return to Sessia Ch. 08

The staff at Raffinato was exceedingly helpful and attentive. Our party was seated almost immediately and a friendly waitress with menus appeared the instant my sore bottom made contact with my chair. Of course she recognized me from the television. Also she'd seen my photo on the cover of the Insider. I was something of a celebrity now.

Our waitress gave me an adoring look and told me how brave I was venture out into public naked and exposing my body to the gaze of thousands of adoring fans.

"I could never work up the courage to do what you do," she said as she looked at me with a sort of star-struck look in her eyes. "I don't know how you do it."

"It's difficult," I admitted, "Especially at first. But the longer you do it, the less unnatural it seems."

"So, you never get the jitters or feel embarrassed with fully-clothed people staring at your naked body?"

"Oh, I didn't say that. I still feel awkward, flustered, vulnerable and defenseless at times. Clothing is sort of a protective covering people wear and I don't have any. It's just...I'm not always aware of how vulnerable I am. Sometimes I'll be so focused on something else that I forget."

Our waitress took our dink orders and returned with our drinks with impressive speed. Of course Gretchen didn't allow me to drink anything with alcohol. I was the legal age for alcohol in Sessia, but Gretchen and my personal trainer were controlling what I could eat and drink, and alcohol was on the forbidden list.

Then our waitress noticed the handcuffs on my wrists and asked, "Are those real?"

"Of course they are," Gretchen answered. "What would be the point in locking her wrists in fake handcuffs?"

"So, you really can't get them off? Not even if you really, really wanted to get free?"

Gretchen then ordered me to stand up and allow our waitress to examine the handcuffs closely and see for herself just how solid and inescapable they were.

With the waitress standing behind me, she had an excellent view of my bare ass. And she seemed to take her time examining the cuffs, pulling my arms up higher on my back, fingering the lock, examining the chain and the wrist opening. She accidentally tightened the handcuffs one notch while examining them, but was utterly unable to get them off of my wrists.

While the waitress stood behind me and fooled around with the stainless steel that bound my wrists, I noticed that everyone in the restaurant was staring at my exposed nudity. Some of them were very subtle in the way that they did it, peering at my naked body of the top of a menu and some of them were pretty bold and blatant at the way they stared at my naked tits and midriff, but everyone was admiring the view.

And just like that, the way that I was helpless, exposed and naked in a room full of fully-clothed people who were eyeing my naked body, got my pussy throbbing again. The feelings of helplessness and vulnerability quite often get me excited and the waiters, waitresses and patrons staring at my naked body while my bound wrists were being examined by this curious waitress had me feeling about as helpless, exposed and vulnerable as a person can get.

My nipples became painfully hard and erect and pointed directly at a table where a man in his late twenties sat next to a woman in her late twenties and calmly drank coffee while they eyed my naked distress. They watched unconcerned as my pussy throbbed, my heart beat madly in my chest and my swollen nipples pointed at them like twin machine-guns.

"Okay, I admit defeat," the waitress proclaimed, "There's no escaping these."

Once the waitress was satisfied that the handcuffs were escape-proof I was given permission to sit down; however I was constantly aware of everyone in the dining room staring at my exposed nudity.

Our waitress was apparently infatuated with me, constantly finding excuses to return to our table, filling water glasses, bringing us extra napkins, asking us if everything was to our liking and such. Every time she came over I noticed her eyes drifting over to me, eyeing my exposed breasts and my painfully erect nipples. She even offered to help feed me, as my hands were bound behind my back, but Gretchen insisted that feeding me was her job.

Being fed by Gretchen while my hands are bound behind my back only serves to magnify my feelings of helplessness, so she does this to me quite often.

It took Scott and Amy a few minutes to adjust. Most people don't consider it normal to have lunch with a bound, naked girl, however I didn't complain about the way I was being treated and none of the restaurant staff said anything, so eventually Scott and Amy adapted and drifted into casual conversation as if this were just a normal meal.

Once they had relaxed somewhat, Scott started to tell us about how he had seen the Knightsbridge Ballet perform at the Terpsichore Center the night before.

"They performed Dionysus and Acoetes," he gushed. "Matthew Bolle danced the lead role of Dionysus. He is amazing! He has grace, poise, lean abs, an absolutely perfectly-shaped butt, a contoured waist, sculpted legs, slim thighs and flexibility that you have to see to believe! He has this angelic, boyish face, and his costume! In the second act, they tear off his chiton and underneath all he's wearing is this flesh-colored G-string. If you weren't paying close attention, you'd swear he's naked! "

"That sounds more like porn than ballet," Gretchen commented.

"Oh no," Scott protested. "There's a whole story behind it. It's the uplifting story of how Tyrrhenian pirates captured Dionysus. They planned to violate the pretty boy and then sell him into slavery. That's why they rip his clothes off. It's homoerotic, but in an artistic sort of way. And anyway Dionysus is actually a god and when they rip his clothes off, it just makes him angry and well...things do not end well for those pirates. He does this sort of dance of death, and kills everyone except for Acoetes."

"It's a love story," Amy interjected with far less enthusiasm than Scott. "Dionysus and Acoetes fall in love and Acoetes builds a temple to Dionysus or something."

"The Sessians are very progressive when it comes to homosexuality," Scott added. "In the United States you'd never see a ballet that celebrated two men being in love with each other."

"Wait," Gretchen exclaimed, as she held a water glass up to my lips, "Dionysus and Acoetes are both men?"

"Of course," Scott answered, "Don't you know your Greek mythology?"

Amy, Gretchen and Scott continued their conversation about the great love that Dionysus and Acoetes had for each other and Gretchen continued to feed me. I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, partially because my naked bottom was so sore, but also because of my throbbing clit. There comes a point when all the fingering and teasing and denial drives my sexual need into a sort of feverish madness, and I was definitely at that point.

I rubbed my thighs together to try and get some relief, but that accomplished nothing. I swear Gretchen has to let me cum soon. Otherwise I'm going to go mad.

Scott continued to go on about Matthew Bolle and his perfect ass and dancer's legs and how he was practically naked on stage. Amy's eyes glazed over and made little attempt to hide how bored she was hearing about Matthew's ass, Matthew's legs and Matthews's abs. I wondered if Scott even remembered that he was sitting at a table with three lesbians. Did he really think that Amy, Gretchen or I would be interested in the shape of some male ballet-dancer's ass?

When we were finished eating, the waitress came out and cheerfully informed us that lunch was on the house. Apparently having a naked slave-girl was good for Raffinato's business and they wanted to keep me coming back.

Gretchen was quite enthusiastic in her thanks and when the waitress brought out a copy of Insider Magazine for me to sign, Gretchen good-naturedly unlocked my handcuffs so that I could hold a pen.

My picture was on the cover of the magazine that the waitress brought me. I was naked and posed with my legs far apart and my ass facing the camera. My pink anus and shaved pubic lips were exposed and blatantly exhibited while I looked over one bare shoulder, a look of fear, helplessness and pleading on my face. My buttocks were red from a spanking I'd had just before the photo-shoot and everything about the picture screamed "abused innocence."

The waitress thanked me profusely for my autograph and urged us to come back again real soon.

* * * * * * * * * *

When we returned to the Hotel Castillo, Victoria was manic and impatiently dragged us from the lobby and into her hotel room so that she could inform us of the latest developments.

She spoke very rapidly and excitedly, but I think I managed to absorb the main points of her frenzied account of what she had learned while we were gone.

In Greece, support for slavery laws was increasing and a vote to enact legalized slavery in Greece had been scheduled for later this month. This; in turn; caused support for legal slavery in Sessia to increase, as the Sessians didn't want all of their tourism dollars to go to the Greeks.

It was one thing to oppose slavery on moral grounds. However it was quite another to allow another nation to make money off of a tourism industry that the Sessians have created first! Sessian national pride insisted that the Greeks not steal tourism money that rightly belonged in Sessian banks!

And as popular support for slavery laws increased, more ministers of parliament were willing to throw their support behind slavery laws.

"And there's still more good news," Victoria effused, "We found a member of parliament who belongs to the Catholic Party that is willing to vote in favor of the Sessian slavery issue if we just loan Diane out for sexual favors once a week, every week until the issue of slavery is voted on in Parliament."

"This is good news," Gretchen gushed.

"Wait, what?" I exclaimed. I had visions of some overweight European politician that looked like Sydney Greenstreet feeling me up with his fat, disgusting fingers and pulling down his pants so I could suck his swollen penis that was barely visible underneath the enormous bulk of his belly.

"Who is this member of parliament? Can I at least see a photo of him before I'm sent as a sacrifice to be raped, so that you can get one more vote when the slavery bill comes up?"

"Hush," Gretchen admonished me sharply and painfully slapped both of my naked breasts. "You'll be whipped for making such a request. Slaves are not supposed to complain or pass judgment when they're loaned out for sex.""

Gretchen called the hotel desk and requested that Lexi come up to my room so that she could whip me. I felt overcome with indignation and shock that my naked skin was to be whipped merely for asking to for the identity of the government official who would be fondling and abusing my naked flesh, and fresh tears began to well up in my eyes and slide warmly down my face.

* * * * * * * * * *

"You poor thing," Lexi said when she arrived in my hotel room. "You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

Lexi hugged me and held me close while Gretchen got the whip that was to be used on my naked skin. I was frightened and Lexi's embrace made me feel somewhat comforted and safe.

Sadly, Gretchen broke the two of us up when she returned with the whip. It was a wicked-looking thing, all black leather with a seven inch handle and a leather thong perhaps twice that long.

"Take her down to the public area where you wash her, Lexi," Gretchen said softly. "Whip her hard across her buttocks and the backs of her legs and remind her that slaves are supposed to obey without question or complaint."

"Yes, ma'am," Lexi replied.

"After her whipping, you can give her about fifteen minutes to sob and feel sorry for herself. Then; when she's done crying, bring her back to my room."

Lexi placed her arm around my shoulders and led me down the hall, like we were two old friends on holiday. Of course the effect was ruined by the fact that I was naked and Lexi was carrying an evil-looking whip. But if you ignored those two relevant details, we looked like two friends out for a night of revelry.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Sorry about this," Lexi said as she held up the restraints that were to imprison my wrists.

I meekly surrendered my freedom and allowed Lexi to make my wrists bound and raised high above my head.

Once my wrists were bound helplessly above me, I reflexively struggled against my restraints. I couldn't get free of course. I can never get free. In Sessia they really know how to make a slave-girl helpless, but it's in my instinct to always struggle and tug at my restraints.

"I need you to turn around now," Lexi said. "Gretchen wants me to whip your ass and the backs of your legs. The way you're facing right now, I can't get at them."

I obligingly turned around. The way I was bound, I couldn't run away or lower my arms, but could easily turn. And believe me, it is much better to get whipped on your back than on your front. If I remained facing Lexi, it would leave my breasts open as a target for the whip, and no girl wants to be whipped there. Breasts are just too damn sensitive.

"This is going to hurt," Lexi warned me. "I hope we can still be friends after this."

I turned my back to Lexi and stared at the white wall in front of me and braced myself while I waited for Lexi to swing her evil-looking leather whip. I whimpered just thinking about that whip slashing across my naked skin. My bottom was already quite tender from all of the previous spankings I'd received.

I never heard the sound of the whip whistling through the air, just the sound of leather on bare skin and an explosion of red-hot pain as the whip cracked across my poor defenseless buttocks.

I screamed and kicked out with my left leg. My whole body shook reflexively as if I might somehow shake off that terrible sting. "Lexi, that hurt," I exclaimed accusingly.

Lexi's only reply was a second slash, only half an inch below the first. Again I screamed as my tender, naked flesh was abused by the whip. "Oh, that hurt! Lexi, Please!!!!"

"I'm sorry, Diane," Lexi explained. "You're my friend and I love you to bits, but if Gretchen says I have to whip you, I have to obey. It's not even like I'm swinging this thing as hard as I could. My arm is pretty strong from swimming and push-ups and whatnot. I could actually whip you much harder than this."

My bottom was burning with a horrible stinging sensation where the leather had kissed my naked skin, but I had to admit Lexi was right. She had an impressively strong arm for a girl. She could swing much harder.

"I'm sorry for complaining Lexi," I said, even though my ass felt like it had been stung by several wasps. "I know you're trying to be kind. I appreciate it. I really do."

"Thanks for understanding, Di," Lexi responded. Then she set the whip down somewhere and ambled over to kiss me on the cheek. I really do love you, you know."

Lexi then kissed me long and passionately on the lips before she walked away and retrieved her whip from where she had set it down.

I stood there and contemplated my confusing feelings for Lexi. She spanked me every morning and now she had me bound and defenseless for an even more painful whipping, but she was my friend and I had real feelings of affection for her.

While I was contemplating that, a third stroke exploded across my naked skin. It lashed diagonally across the back of my left thigh, just underneath the buttocks.

"Aaaaauaahhhhhh," I screamed in inarticulate pain, but didn't ask for Lexi to stop. I just choked back sobs as tears welled up in my eyes again.

My ass burned as Lexi delivered the forth slash diagonally across the back of my right thigh, very high up, just barely marking the buttock in that delicious crease where the buttock and thigh meet each other.

I didn't say anything more after that, but I couldn't hold back the tears. I stamped my feet and kicked my legs as Lexi whipped my ass, the backs of my thighs and even my calves. As I danced around in a misery of pain, several times I turned so that my ass was facing the wall and my tits were facing Lexi.

Each time I did this, Lexi would stop the whipping and order me to turn around so that she could whip me from the other side. I was grateful for the way that she patiently waited while I turned around. If she had whipped me across my breasts, it would have hurt so much more than being whipped across my legs and my ass.

"Aaaaagggghhhhhh," I screamed as Lexi whipped the backs of my bare legs. The stinging swats made me dance a humiliating, ungraceful dance as I jerked and stamped my feet and yanked against the bonds on my wrists, making an embarrassing display of writhing and twisting, while Lexi punished my bare skin.

"Just three more," Lexi assured me calmly. "You've got a nice collection of red and pink marks. I think Gretchen will approve."

The next three were inhumanly painful on the backs of my already stinging, tender thighs. Lexi seemed to seek out the most sensitive spots on my naked skin and brought the whip down hard right on top of them.

"Aaahhhahahhhahhh," I screamed as Lexi laid down blow after blow on my poor, smarting thighs. I no longer cared what sort of humiliating display I was putting on and I jerked, screamed and wailed with abandon. At one point I actually pulled and strained so hard against my wrist restraints that I pulled both of my bare feet several inches off the ground.

Lexi had inflicted so much staggering, mind-numbing pain that I didn't even realize; at first; that she had gone over the count. She had promised me three more lashes, however her whip actually lashed me four more times.

The fourth blow was a diagonal slash that began across the uppermost portion of my left thigh and left a painful, stinging mark across both my left and right buttocks. I let out a heartbreaking, woeful scream as my naked body was overwhelmed with a crushing amount of pain. Until you've been whipped on your naked skin with a leather whip you really have no idea how much it can hurt. If you don't believe me, come over to my house sometime, Gretchen and I will teach you.

When I was done screaming, Lexi came over. "You were wonderful," she told me.

"You were very brave, the way you withstood your whipping," Lexi assured me, "And you look more beautiful than ever."

Lexi held me close and kissed me passionately. I melted into the kiss and moaned into Lexi's mouth. I would have hugged Lexi back, but my arms were bound above my head and I there was no way for me to get them free.

Lexi forced her warm tongue into my mouth as we kissed, getting me more and more aroused. I wished desperately that my hands were free so that I could touch her, but this is the lot of a slave-girl. We very seldom get what we want.

My nipples and my clit ached horribly and were in desperate need of being touched, but Lexi had other ideas. She continued to kiss me deeply and passionately, making me feverish with lust, but in the end she pushed me away and left me there, panting and hungry for much more.

Then, stunning me out of my feverish need to be touched, was the sound of deafening applause. Apparently a crowd of hotel guests had wandering away from the pool and had spent several minutes watching Lexi make love to my mouth while I was bound and helpless.

Men and women in bikinis and swim shorts all applauded. They all appeared to be about my age and all of them had looks of good-natured amusement on their faces. Once again I was the subject of entertainment for the people of Europe.

When the applause died down, Lexi turned to me and said, "Oh yes, Gretchen wanted me to remind you that slave-girls are supposed to obey orders without question or complaint."