Sweet Gwendoline Ch. 12

"Gwen, I am so pleased that you've decided to become friends with Josephine," Mistress Schiffer exclaimed, enthusiastically, "You have no idea how seldom that happens!"

"Far too many submissives become fixated on their masters or mistresses," Doctor Riemen elaborated, "And they often see other slaves as competition for their master's or mistress's affections. They never learn to develop any empathy for their fellow naked slaves."

"The Vineyard has no rules on such things," Mistress Schiffer explained, "It's always up to the inmates themselves, if they want to develop friendships. We never pressure them."

The smartly-dressed guards pushed me deeper into the room, and that's when I noticed Josephine.

Josephine was just as naked as me, however she looked even more helpless and vulnerable. She was lying on her back, her wrists handcuffed behind her, with her ankles spread very far apart, and at least twenty-five inches off the ground. Josephine's ankles were tightly bound in leather ankle-cuffs and attached to curved metal hooks on two slender, yet sturdy metal posts, set at least 40 inches apart.

Her moist, swollen pubic lips were indecently exposed. I'm certain that Doctor Riemen and Mistress Schiffer noticed. I'm certain that's the reason Josephine was bound in such a blatantly lewd position in the first place.

Her head was on the ground, and her bound feet were held up at a height nearly as high as my waist. Gravity thus caused her breasts to lift up, towards her face, and seemed to make her breast look fuller and more impressive.

Josephine looked over at me wide-eyed, and seemed stricken with fear. Of course, she was naked and bound in a very vulnerable position. Most women would be fearful in such a distressing predicament.

With the assistance of the guards, I was soon bound in an identical position, with my ankles high off the ground, and my feet far apart. I could feel the strain in my inner-thigh muscles, my legs were stretched so far apart. Suddenly it seemed that the metal posts that my ankles were bound to were far more than 40 inches apart. My legs were bound so far apart, I was almost performing a dancer's split. I could only imagine how blatantly and lewdly on-display my own pink pubic lips must be.

Josephine was bound just a short distance away from where I was bound. I looked over at her worried face, and she gave me a look that seemed to be signaling distress, begging for mercy, and simultaneously asking for forgiveness.

It was a very complex moment in non-verbal communication, and I was surprised that anyone could communication so much with just a look. And even though I had only known her for a very short time, I already felt a great deal of affection for her. I tried to respond to her with a look that she would find comforting and reassuring, but I didn't have her gift for communication with mere facial expressions.

Speaking without permission can get a girl like me in trouble, so I decided to keep my mouth shut for now. I was hoping I'd get a chance to talk to Josephine later. My feelings for her something like the feelings I might have for a favorite sibling, or perhaps a former lover, that was still a good friend. Oh, my feelings for her were complicated, but I still know I adored her, and I wanted her to have similar feelings for me.

I looked away from Josephine's complicated facial features and instead looked up at my bound ankles. Each of my ankles were bound helplessly and disgracefully far apart, to sturdy metal posts. Doctor Riemen and Mistress Schiffer admired my nude, helpless body, centering their attention on my obscenely exposed sex, and the twin cheeks of my elevated bottom. The extremely taut way my legs were pulled up, and wickedly far apart was something like the splits a ballerina would do. My pussy was openly and brazenly on display to anyone who cared to enter the room.

And just as I had that humiliating thought, Doctor Riemen's assistant let herself into the room, followed by Christina, Christina's aunt, and a blonde, middle-aged woman dressed all in white.

The woman was tall and thin, and wore a casual, loose-fitting white blazer, loose-fitting, white linen pants and white walking shoes with the New Balance logo on them. I felt a moment of panic, as I was certain that the middle-aged woman in white was my mother.

She was my mother's build, she had my mother's hair color, she looked to be my mother's height and age, and my mother is famous for dressing in exactly the same sort of attire this woman was wearing. But, what would my mother be doing at a BDSM club? My heart beat frantically, and panic gripped me by the throat as I envisioned the humiliation if my mother found me naked and my legs spread miles apart and the moist lips of my shaved pussy lewdly on display for everyone to leer at.

I thought I might die of embarrassment, but then I got a look at the middle-aged woman's face. She was about my mother's age, and had a lot of physical attributes in common with my mother, but her face was more boyish, her chin was less rounded, her cheekbones were higher, and when she smiled, her smile looked devilish and wicked.

My mother didn't have a wicked smile. When my mother smiled, she always looked amicable and gentle.

"She looks adorable," proclaimed the woman in white as she paced around me, "What did you say her name was?"

"Gwendoline," Christina informed the blonde, middle-aged woman, "She's been my slave since early June."

"Bondage becomes her," the white-clad woman enthused as she had a long, lingering look at my nether lips, which I was certain must be spread wide open, "And this is such a clever way to bind a girl! Whose idea was this?"

"That was mine," Mistress Schiffer proclaimed proudly.

"It leaves a girl so exposed," enthused the white-clad woman, "It's also the sort of thing to make a girl feel utterly helpless and remind her that she's female."

I didn't disagree with the middle-aged woman, but I wondered how she would feel with her adductors stretched to the breaking point, and her shaved pubic lips brazenly on display for the entire world to see. I'll bet she wouldn't think this type of bondage was so clever then.

"Mistress Schiffer, how were you planning on punishing the dear girl?" Christina's aunt asked.

"I was planning on using a light whip to whip her exposed vulva, while her legs are spread like that. The whip I use won't leave any lasting marks, but it will create a delicious sting in her most intimate treasure. It will also make her extraordinarily aware of her own vulnerability, which I've always felt is extremely valuable when training or conditioning a slave."

When Mistress Schiffer had announced that my sex was to be whipped, I looked over at Josephine. She bit her lower lip and gave me a look of helpless fear. I was overcome with helpless fear as well, and I suppose either one of us could have rescued ourselves from this fate by using our safe word, but I resolved not to use it. Being whipped on my labia would be overwhelmingly painful, but pride prevented me from using my safe word in front of Josephine, Christina and her aunt. I wanted all three women to be proud of me, and taking the coward's way out, wouldn't inspire anyone to be pleased with my performance.

"When meeting a slave for the first time," observed Christina's aunt, "It is traditional to have them bend over for a bare-bottom spanking. Since you've just met Gwendoline, don't you think that whipping her sex is a bit extreme for the poor dear?"

I silently hoped that Mistress Schiffer would agree with Christina's aunt, but said nothing. A proper slave never tries to influence a dominant woman's decisions. I just held my breath and waited to see what transpired.

"This is a special occasion," Mistress Schiffer explained, "It's rather rare when two slave-girls become friends. A mere spanking seemed like far too mundane a punishment to mark the occasion."

Christina and her aunt both seemed to consider this to be a reasonable response, and preparations were then taken to begin my punishment.

"Well, they're both helpless," observed the woman who looked disturbingly similar to my own mother, "Shouldn't you begin?"

"Not just yet," Doctor Riemen replied, "I prefer to make certain the proper mood has been set before the actual punishment begin."

"Oh, yes," the blonde woman replied, "You have a reputation for setting the scene. I had forgotten."

"I find it very beneficial to have the slave-girl in the proper emotion state before the punishment begins," Doctor Riemen explained.

Then she stood over me, running her hands across my inner-thighs, caressing the naked skin of my indecently wide-spread legs before allowing her fingers to prod the exposed pink lips of my swollen labia.

"Before punishing a slave-girl," Doctor Riemen elaborated, "I like for her to be overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness, vulnerability, fear and a dark, delicious sensation of sexual arousal."

"Sexual arousal, a sense of helplessness and a very delicious sort of fear," said Christina's aunt, "It sounds like a very potent cocktail of emotions."

"It's an exquisite, delightful sort of cocktail," Doctor Riemen agreed, "But it take a certain amount of expertise to mix it together."

Honestly, I didn't feel any more prep work needed to be done to get my emotions mixed into the cocktail Doctor Riemen was describing. The way my wrists and ankles were bound, the delicate folds of my womanhood were lewdly exposed, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I could intensely feel the stretch in my inner-thigh muscles and I was forced to acknowledge my helplessness and my vulnerability. And fear naturally followed when such a delicate part of your anatomy was laid bare and exposed to a group of dominant women, known for their strict discipline and cruel punishments.

I didn't say any of this out loud, but I knew it to be true.

"Both Gwendoline and Josephine have looks of fear in their eyes," Doctor Riemen clarified, "Almost as if they're pleading for mercy, however, if we are going to make this moment truly delicious, I want to make certain that their libidos have been inflamed, I want them to both have a furnace burning between their legs."

My sex was already wet, and I could feel a steady and insistent throb coming from my loins. I didn't know how much more my libido could be inflamed, but Doctor Riemen seemed to be eager to push the envelope and incite my libido to fever-pitch levels.

From my awkward position on the floor, it was difficult to see exactly what Doctor Riemen was doing, but I could feel one of two of her fingers playing with my exposed, pink slit. I moaned and gasped at the unexpected physical contact with my defenseless vulva. A wave of desire stabbed into me, and I shuddered and writhed as my sexual need seemed to double, and then Doctor Riemen found my swollen clitoris, and pulled back the hood, leaving the hard, swollen nub exposed and then she rubbed more poor, exposed clitoris, sending another agonizing wave of desire through me, and heating my sweltering loins ever hotter.

I made pathetic moaning and whimpering sounds, and when my sexual distress was universally evident, Doctor Riemen turned her attentions to Josephine.

My pulsing sex was already throbbing with insistent, needy spasms, and then when Doctor Riemen placed her hand on Josephine's damp sex, and made her gasp and writhe, the feminine noises of Josephine's sexual distress, and the look of overwhelming, wanton need on her face, caused the feelings of heat and libidinous need in my own wicked loins to grow even more fevered and demanding.

Soon, both Josephine and I were making desperate moaning and gasping sounds, and reflexively writhing in a way that looked obscene, and our official punishments hadn't even begun yet.

Then, Doctor Riemen's assistant handed her a whip. It was smaller than most whips that I've seen, but that doesn't mean much. Small whips can still be wicked painful, the small size mostly just means they have shorter reach. I've also been told that it's easier to hit your target with a smaller whip.

The first target Doctor Riemen aimed at was Josephine's shamelessly exposed labia.

Thwack! The whip cut through the air, and struck its target with unfailing accuracy. Josephine shrieked with agony when the whip cruelly cracked against the delicate folds of innocent vulva.

The second cut of the whip hit Josephine between her outstretched thighs within moments after the first.

"Gyaaahh!!"

Josephine screamed in anguish and thrashed against her bonds. After the third blow, she was begging Mistress Schiffer and Doctor Riemen for mercy, but she refused to use her safe word.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Doctor Riemen was merciless, whipping Josephine's poor defenseless sex with a speed and cruelty, that gave Josephine no time to recover from one stinging blow of the whip before the next blow fell.

Josephine writhed and thrashed as much as her bonds would allow, although the way she was bound, she couldn't move much other than her neck, shoulders and torso. And even those parts of her anatomy were very restricted as far as how she could move them.

Josephine recoiled from the whip and cried out in pain each time the leather thongs cut into her abused sex. The helpless, naked female was being cruelly punished, and she seemed to be in unbearable torment, however she never once attempted to use her safe word. The look on Josephine's face was one of helplessness, vulnerability and misery, and my heart went out to her. I wanted her to use her safe word, and bring her agony to an end, but she was too much like me, and would only use her safe word in the most extreme of emergencies.

Doctor Riemen smiled as she went about her work, and continued to beat Josephine's squirming nude sex with swift, sure strokes of her specialized whip. Tears welled up in Josephine's eyes and then trickled from her face, down to the floor, but still she didn't use the magical word that would end her whipping.

"Ahhh! God, No! Please, Doctor Riemen, it hurts too much! I can't bear it," Josephine called out emphatically, but that was just drama. Every slave in this place knew that without their safe word, pleas for mercy would always be ignored.

Doctor Riemen paused for a few seconds and looked down at Josephine's panting, sweating naked body, and continued to smile her enigmatic smile and then shook her head in negation. She had absolutely no intention of stopping just yet.

Josephine arched her spine, threw her head back and let out screams of extreme agony, and I found myself both consumed with compassion for her, and consumed with the fearful knowledge that my exposed sex would soon be suffering the same agonizing fate that was currently causing Josephine to wail in excruciating torment.

And when the whipping stopped, and Josephine was sobbing and whimpering beside me, Doctor Riemen turned her attentions toward me, and dangled the thin, wicked leather tails of her whip just a few inches from my face, building the tension by allowing me to examine every detail of the cruel weapon that would soon be punishing my innocent vulva.

"Josephine took her whipping very well," Doctor Riemen informed me, very aloofly, "She was very brave. Will you be able to show her the same sort of bravery when it's your turn?"

There really isn't an appropriate answer a slave can give to a question like that. If I said I could match her bravery, I would sound arrogant. But, if I said I couldn't, I would sound weak and pathetic. Either way, I'd be broadcasting qualities that no mistress wants to see in her slave.

At any rate, my punishment began a few seconds later, so I didn't need to answer. All I needed to do was scream.

Thwack! The first sting of the whip missed my pubic lips by about an inch, and struck my inner thigh instead. After that, Doctor Riemen's aim got much better.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The innocent pink folds of my pussy were hit three times in rapid succession. She seemed to be concentrating on the labia on my right side.

"Aaaaaaagghhh," I screamed incoherently, and thrashed in my bonds, but I'd been bound by experts, and there was no chance of breaking free. The best I could do was writhe in a very embarrassing manner and work up a sweat.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! "Aaaagggrrrhhh," I screamed and tried to buck my hips in a vain attempt to avoid the next stinging blow, but the bonds still held me fast. One of the blows stung me on my inner thigh, the other two caused a burning sensation directly across my pussy.

I screamed in panic and unbelievable pain, and reflexively attempted to twist away. My whole body recoiled violently from the blows, but even with the strength of my entire body straining to evade Doctor Riemen's whip, there was no getting away from anything. My naked body squirmed, but it was barely even enough to be worthy of notice. It certainly wasn't enough to protect my tender nether lips from Doctor Riemen's cruel assault.

Thwack! Thwack!

The pain wasn't a constant, stinging pain. It was an increasing, accumulative pain, becoming more and more intense every time the leather lashes of the whip cut into my innocent, unprotected womanhood. I screamed louder and more passionately, until I hit a sort of peak where my voice could not become any more insistent, and that's when I hit some sort of emotional barrier as well.

My eyes had welled up with tears, and the pain was scalding as Doctor Riemen relentlessly assaulted the most delicate and feminine part of my anatomy, but at a certain point the pain transformed itself into something else. The pain was still brutal, but it felt delicious as well. There was a piquant and exotic aspect of the pain that made me feel more wanton, more sexual and more utterly at Doctor Riemen's mercy. The part of me that fantasized about being abused by an evil stepmother and wicked stepsisters became ascendant. I was no longer a woman play-acting at being a naked slave-girl. I had fully become the fantasy.

And as Doctor Riemen's wicked whip slashed at the soft flesh of my pink slit, I found myself attempting to raise my pelvis to make my swollen clitoris a more obvious target, in the curious hope that the whip would make direct contact with it and sting the clit more directly. I jerked and bucked and savored the pain, as it brought me closer and closer to a dark, unusual, forbidden sort of orgasm that most people will never experience.

The leather whip splat wetly as it cracked across the innocent flesh of my pink aperture, and the pain built as the strength of the orgasm deep inside my loins built as well. I screamed a full-throated, lusty scream as my poor vulva was abused, however the quality of my screams seemed to have changed. There was a sexual passion to my screams now, more like the screams of a woman in the throes of orgasm, than the screams of a woman in unbearable pain.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

The whip was now energizing the wanton fire within my loins. Every crack of the whip quickened my libido and incited the shameless desire that lived deep inside the darkest recesses of my subconscious. I screamed when the whip slapped against my defenseless labia, however my screams were infused with a prurient exultation. I reveled in my helplessness and savored the pain that Doctor Riemen inflicted on me. The way that she abused, dominated, exploited and punished me, helped me to transform into the purely sexual being that I fantasized about.

The last cruel blow of Doctor Riemen's whip snapped directly across the center of my tender, pink slit. I screamed fervidly, and then the whip ceased to injure my poor, abused vulva.