Sweet Gwendoline Ch. 14

My brain didn't work like Lyndsay's. I didn't crave the same things she did. On some level, Lyndsay had a hard time accepting that.

Virtually all of my sexual fantasies centered around the Cinderella Principle...which basically means that I get a hot, wet throbbing in between my legs when I'm victimized by unfair rules, humiliation and painful punishments, meted out by wicked stepsisters.

Ruth ended up making a list of rules, customs and behaviors that she expected Lyndsay and I to live by. Lyndsay just wasn't enough of a sadist to come up wicked-step-sister ideas spontaneously. She needed outside assistance.

One of the first rules that Ruth established was the rules for my morning exercises.

Lyndsay was already planning on teaching me how to do handstands, handsprings, backflips, pirouettes and other gymnastic feats, so Ruth decided to incorporate my gymnastics training into Lyndsay's learning how to treat me like her slave.

Every morning before breakfast, Lyndsay would take me to the exercise room and train me. Per Ruth's instructions, Lyndsay would be fully dressed in respectable gym clothes, while I would be stark naked.

This was something that was easy for Lyndsay to understand. Lyndsay had a history of stripping girls naked in a public place and making them squirm, blush and feel vulnerable and exposed. That was sort of Lyndsay's kink. She liked to get an attractive girl naked in front of a room full of clothed women and watch her squirm uncomfortably.

Lyndsay embraced the rules of my new exercise program enthusiastically, and even attempted to increase my embarrassment by finding excuses for Dasha or her mother to walk in while I was exercising, thus adding to my humiliation and exposure.

Lyndsay was less receptive to the idea of punishing me. Ruth insisted that I needed to be disciplined for laxness or slow progress in my learning. She even insisted that Lyndsay hold a riding crop or a wicked narrow belt while training me, as a constant reminder that she could inflict cruel, stinging punishments upon my bare skin for even the slightest fault on my part.

While Lyndsay was inclined to forgive me for my failure to master new skills instantly, Ruth insisted that I be punished for even minor flaws in my form or technique. Every morning Lyndsay and I went down to the exercise room, and every morning I came upstairs with a sore, stinging bottom.

Ruth insisted that I needed to remain naked after every punishment, at least until the redness faded. It was an extra humiliation designed to let everyone in the household know that I had been spanked or cropped or whipped.

Julie had trouble understanding my new relationship with Lyndsay, and I got utterly tongue-tied when I tried to explain it, so Ruth Taylor stepped in again and did an admirable job of explaining it to my best friend.

"Your friend isn't a child anymore," Ruth explained to Julie, "and she's discovered that has certain needs that cannot be satisfied by doing things the way she did when she was younger. There will be times when Gwen needs harsh punishments and stinging pain to feel alive."

"You mean like those people who cut themselves?" Julie asked.

"Actually, I would liken it more to an Olympic athlete who engages in a grueling training schedule that can sometimes result in pulled muscles, strained ligaments, dislocated shoulders and other painful injuries. There is great sacrifice in what they do, but there is also great reward."

Julie continued to be confused, but she understood that this was something that I wanted. And if corporal punishments and being paraded around like a naked slave on the auction block made me happy, Julie was determined to find a way to accept it.

Lyndsay's mother accepted this change in my relationship with her daughter far more readily. If I had a need to be treated like a slave-girl, Mrs. Brie felt like Lyndsay should be my mistress. Subcontracting mistress duties to Christina (or anyone else) just didn't seem right to her. If I needed to be objectified, punished and humiliated, she felt that her daughter should be the one who objectified, punished and humiliated me.

There were times when Mrs. Brie would encounter her daughter and I in the kitchen or the dining room with me fully naked, my wrists handcuffed behind my back and Lyndsay fully clothed, kissing me passionately on the mouth. Mrs. Brie would just give her daughter a look like this was normal behavior for a teenage girl. She was so casual about her daughter making out with a naked, bound female in the kitchen. I thought this was amazing. If I had ever tried something like this in my mother's home, my mom would probably have a seizure.

Another rule that Ruth came up with was that I always had to be bound any time that Lyndsay and I had sex. And, in an effort to assist Lyndsay in enforcing this rule, Ruth bought a number of leather restraints and gave them to Lyndsay as a gift.

Lyndsay showed Ruth her appreciation by using the new leather restraints on me often. Her favorite method of using the new bondage gear seemed to be buckling a leather collar around my throat, buckling leather cuffs around my wrists and then hooking my hands to the back of my neck.

Lyndsay had me stand in front of the mirror in her bathroom while I was bound thusly. I could definitely see the appeal. With my hands behind the back of my neck and my arms raised up, my beasts seemed to stick out more and present themselves more prominently. It was almost like I was begging for somebody to touch them.

"A slave-girl should never feel like she and her mistress are equal," Ruth Taylor explained to Lyndsay, "There should always be an obvious unfairness to the relationship that puts the mistress in a superior position above her slave-girl."

Lyndsay may not have been a natural mistress, but with time and patience, Ruth was able to teach her the core etiquette that a mistress was expected to adhere to.

Another rule Ruth Taylor came up with had to do with mathematical ratios. Lyndsay and I could still have sex whenever it pleased us, however Ruth insisted that I should never be allowed to have as many orgasms as Lyndsay. Ruth came up with a mathematical ratio that said that for every orgasm Lyndsay gave me, I was required to give Lyndsay three orgasms.

Of course, I was forbidden to ever give any orgasms to myself.

"It's best to leave slave-girls in a state of sexual need," Ruth Taylor explained, "Constant sexual distress means that your slave-girl is always ready and eager to have sex with you. She'll constantly be aware of the fact that she is a sexual creature and she will never attempt to minimize her own sexuality. She'll be instantly receptive to you the moment you even hint at the idea of having sex with her."

Ruth Taylor was utterly correct about this. Shortly after Lyndsay's education began, my loins were in an almost constant state of wet, urgent longing. My body was utterly receptive, and I felt an almost feverish need for somebody (anybody) to touch me.

It took about twelve days for Ruth to transform Lyndsay from a regular girlfriend into a woman who was my girlfriend, but also an intimidating mistress who kept me in sublime nakedness, utter submission and subjected me to merciless, stinging punishments for the slightest of reasons.

I had already loved Lyndsay even before she became my mistress, however, I found her transformation to be delicious. And the more cruel and intimidating Lyndsay became the more potent the pulsing fire in my loins became.

It didn't take long before Lyndsay came into her own as a mistress, and didn't need Ruth Taylor to give her any more ideas on how to treat me, In less than two weeks, she began to come up with her own ideas on how to control and torment me.

One day Lyndsay declared that I was no longer allowed to shave myself, and she would take over that aspect of my grooming herself.

Lyndsay did a very thorough job of shaving my armpits, my legs, my vulva and my asshole, however she lingered unnecessarily long when shaving my vulva, and somehow managed to accidentally rub her thumb or fingertips across the swollen bud of my pulsing clitoris every time she shaved me, making my feelings of sexual need even more powerful and urgent.

Sometimes Lyndsay would instruct Dasha to shave me instead. The good news was that Dasha never played with my pussy or deliberately stroked my sensitive clitoris, however, being shaved by the household maid felt more humiliating and embarrassing than being shaved by my girlfriend.

Lyndsay's mother and Ruth Taylor both praised Lyndsay on her progress and by the time September rolled around, Ruth announced that Lyndsay was doing such an excellent job of turning me into her moaning, submissive, obedient slave that she had secured a membership for Lyndsay at the Vineyard so that she could take me there any time she wished.

"You no longer require my mentoring, Lyndsay dear," Ruth Taylor added, "however, I would be grateful if you invited me to accompany you and your slave-girl. The two of you are quite adorable, and I would thoroughly enjoy being an onlooker, and would consider it a privilege to observe your first visit to the Vineyard as Gwen's mistress."