Sweet Gwendoline Ch. 25

"She has such a beautiful ass," Elizabeth explained, " I just love touching it."

"Yes, she has a very beautiful butt, but shouldn't we get started whipping her?" the new girl asked as she passed a leather belt to Elizabeth and a riding crop to Lauren.

"Not yet" Elizabeth replied, "I need to get her ready first.

"C'mon," Lauren urged, "She's naked and helpless. What more could you possibly need to do to get her ready?"

I was wondering about that myself, and then Elizabeth ordered me to spread my legs for her. I submissively obeyed and then suddenly I felt her hand between my thighs. I moaned as Elizabeth's fingers impaled my pussy and pumped up and down inside of me.

"Oh, God," I moaned as I was raped by Elizabeth's fingers. My hands were helplessly bound above my head, so Elizabeth could do anything she wanted to me and I was helpless to stop her. I twisted and squirmed and pulled against the ropes biting into my wrists, but no matter how much I struggled I couldn't squirm free or protect my sex from being probed.

"Aaaahhhh, huhhh, aahhhh," I panted and gasped as the fingers inside of me caused my sex to throb with hungry spasms and my entire body to heat up with feverish sexual need.

"Okay, I suppose we can start now," Elizabeth said as she withdrew her fingers from my wet, pulsing loins, "I like the idea of having her sexually excited before we whip her. I mean...just look at how wet her pubic lips are and the suggestive way she's moving her hips. She's like a cat in heat."

I was so feverish with lust that sweat was glistening on my torso, on my ribcage and between my breasts. My body was thrumming with sexual need. My nipples were hard and hypersensitive, and my sex was dripping wet. My clitoris was swollen, throbbing and in need of attention, but I couldn't touch myself because of the way I'd been bound.

And that was when Elizabeth cracked her leather belt across my defenseless backside.

The first crack of leather across my naked skin stung, so did the second, and by the third stinging lash I was squirming and whimpering.

Much to my surprise, Elizabeth halted the whipping at that point and began to run her hands all over my naked body.

"I just love your body," Elizabeth said as she touched me everywhere. Her loving fingers slid smoothly across my skin from beneath my raised armpits and exposed breasts down to my knees and leisurely caressed the soft skin of my inner thighs. And once again she placed a hand forcefully between my legs and palmed my defenseless pudendum. Of course, it was soaking wet.

She fondled my swollen labia, causing me to gasp and my breasts heaved up and down as my breathing became labored, much to the amusement of Elizabeth's friends.

"I can't imagine any girl enjoying corporal punishment as much as this naked slave right here," Lauren opined.

"She's enjoying getting fondled," Elizabeth's other friend offered, "If we go back to whipping her, I bet she'll be screaming in no time."

Almost immediately, Elizabeth's hands stopped fondling my naked body and my flesh was marked once again with the cruel stinging lash of a leather strap.

"Aaaaaaghhhhhhhh," I cried out in pain.

There was a delicious quality to the pain. It was almost impossible for me to separate the feelings of pain from my feelings of sexual arousal. They were both mixed into some sort of erotic BDSM cocktail. I looked back at Elizabeth over my bare shoulder and I thought she looked yummy...in a wicked stepsister sort of way. She continued to sting my naked flesh with her long, thin strap of leather, and I whimpered, screamed, and squirmed at the blows, but my pussy throbbed.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I saw Elizabeth as a beautiful, impressive, young woman. I danced for her as she decorated my ass and thighs with painful red marks, but I felt a potent sexual attraction to her. She was a sex goddess who left me mad with lust.

There was a pause as Lauren was invited to take over. Lauren playfully swished her riding crop through the air several times before she struck me with it.

The riding crop hurt worse than the leather strap. Of course, my skin was already sensitive before Lauren even started, so that may have had something to do with it.

I struggled and pulled against the ropes that secured my wrists, but to no avail. My whipping resumed and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I became drenched in sweat and felt salty droplets trickle from beneath her armpits.

There was a brief interval where Lauren stopped whipping me and over the sound of my own sobbing, I heard Lauren say, "You're remarkable. I am so glad that Elizabeth invited me to this thing. I never thought that whipping a girl could be so erotic, but there's something about you....it's like you put a spell on me."

Lauren kissed me warmly on the lips before she whipped me again. As I was whipped, I thrust myself against the support beam, stood with my legs apart and thrust my pubic mound against the wood. I didn't notice at first as I was aware mostly of the pain and the sounds of my own screams.

The blonde with the pixie-cut noticed and pointed it out to Elizabeth and Lauren.

"She's pressing her pubic lips against that large shaft of wood," she said, "I think she's trying to make herself cum."

"Oh my God, you're right!" one of the other women replied, "Just look at the way she moves her hips and pelvis!"

The movements of my wounded bottom as it was punished were lewd and shameless. My body reacted to the pain without thinking. Once again, there was a pause in my whipping and the blonde with the pixie-cut placed her hand between my legs and laughed at how wet I was.

"I'll bet I could make her cum, just by whipping her here," she said as she possessively cupped my vulva.

"Tie her ankles apart," Elizabeth ordered, "I want to test her theory."

I made whimpering sounds as I was forced to spread my legs apart and ropes were tied around my ankles and secured to metal rings embedded in the floor. Then a whip with long, thin, leather strands was produced. I was told that this was the whip they would use to whip my defenseless pubic lips.

I twisted and squirmed when the whip struck my poor swollen labia. Pain swam over me and each cut of the whip brought new stinging agony to the most intimate part of my female anatomy. At first I struggled to close my legs, but the agony of being whipped between my legs gradually became something different.

My poor, abused sex still burned, but an intense throbbing in my loins at some point signaled an impending orgasm. I gasped as my swollen pubic lips were struck, but the cuts of the whip began to feel less agonizing and more arousing.

At some point I began to move my hips in a shameless manner, as if inviting the blonde woman to whip me some more. She accepted my invitation, each lashing cut snapped across my vulnerable sex and made it throb. My aching nether lips were whipped again and again until I began to shudder. My whole body trembled, and I panted as the whip took me over the edge and I experienced a thunderous, screaming climax, while Elizabeth and her friends looked on in amazement.

* * *

When I returned home, I was ordered to strip and subject myself to a humiliating body cavity search. Ms. Knauss subjects me to such things not because she's afraid I'll sneak in contraband, but because she feels that slave-girls would be abused and degraded at every possible opportunity.

Lyndsay and her mother were sitting at the dining room table and saw me as I came in. I was naked and whip marks were visible on my skin. Both mother and daughter reacted the moment they saw me. Their eyes widened, they stood up and came towards me. I blushed as they examined my welts and Lyndsay exclaimed, "Gwen! What happened?"

I explained about the hunt, getting captured, the pussy-leash and getting whipped by three different women. I even told them about how my legs were spread wide and I was whipped repeatedly across my swollen labia until I orgasmed.

"Oh, that must have been so painful," Mrs. Brie said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied, "I have a very high pain tolerance. I can endure a lot of abuse."

"Well, just the same, I'd like to get some medicinal lotion on those welts," Mrs. Brie said, "I'll take you up to my room and rub some into your skin."

Mrs. Brie was always kind and congenial towards me. She treated me as if we were best friends. She took me up to her room and had me stand near her bed while she got a container of oily lotion with aloe and vitamin-E and other things that are good for the skin, to rub into the whip marks on my abused, naked body.

My skin was very tender, and I whimpered as she rubbed her lotion into my thighs and the curves of my abused, reddened buttocks. And then she told me to spread my legs so she could apply it to my poor, reddened pubic lips.

I hesitated a moment, but then I widened her stance and looked down as Mrs. Brie knelt in front of my bald pubes. With a generous dollop of medicinal ointment in her hand, she reached between my legs and rubbed her fingertips across the sensitive folds of my pubic lips.

"Aaaaahhhhhhh," I exclaimed. Her touch was gentle, but even the kind, caring hands of my friend caused me sharp, stinging pain as my vulva had been whipped to the point where even her gentle touch was painful.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "but this will help you to heal faster."

I told her to go ahead and rub it in. Mrs. Brie was an intelligent, nurturing woman. I trusted her to do what was best for me and I spread my legs even further apart, encouraging her to rub her lotion into my abused vulva.

When she began rubbing her ointment into my pubic lips I gasped in pain, but at some point my gasps took on a more libidinous quality. I was becoming sexually aroused at the way her fingertips rubbed up and down and across the folds of my pubic lips, but rather than tell her to stop, I rocked my hips forward as if encouraging her to do more.

My breathing became labored and I wondered if it was appropriate for Lyndsay's mother to play with my pussy until she drove me to a shuddering climax. My breasts heaved up and down as my pussy throbbed and my breathing became ragged. Did Mrs. Brie realize how sexually aroused she was making me? How could she not notice? She knew what she was doing, didn't she? I let out a frustrated moan and my head reeled with concerns about sexual ethics and proper etiquette concerning slave/mistress relationships and daughter/mother relationships.

"Gwen, I want you to know that I love my daughter very much," she said as she rubbed her thumb across my clitoral hood.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, my voice breathy.

"This business of your clients causing you to orgasm concerns me," she added as her fingertips rubbed gently over my labia, "Lyndsay is deeply in love with you and it would hurt her deeply if all these other women used you up sexually and there were no amorous desires left in you by the time you returned to her."

The delicious sensation caused by Mrs. Brie's lubricated fingers on my wet pussy made it difficult to focus on the words Lyndsay's mother was saying. My body trembled with the effort of remaining still. And then I gasped again as her fingertips brushed gently across my hard, swollen clit.

"I want you to always be ready for sex with my daughter, any time day or night, no matter how many women pay you to be your companion. So, I have a proposal for you."

Erotic tingles spread across my naked body and I shuddered, barely able to understand the words coming out of her mouth.

"At least once a day, you're going to come visit me in my bedroom. Now, when you're here, I can either give you a pill that will dramatically increase your libido, or you can stand like this with your legs far apart and I can play with your pussy until you're moaning and trembling with sexual desire. I'll let you choose which of the two options you prefer."

"Ohhhhh," I said, "Mrs. Brie."

I found Mrs. Brie to be an intelligent, caring, resourceful and honest woman. I trusted her and maybe even loved her. She had always done right by me and she had always supported my relationship with her daughter. She had also rescued me that time I was abducted by Paul Darcy. If she thought it was a good idea for her to dramatically increase my libido, I trusted that she was making the right decision.

And I loved the fact that she gave me a choice. I could take a pill that would supercharge my libido, or I could allow her to use her fingers on my pink slit every day and leave me panting and trembling with unfulfilled lust.

"I think I would prefer the more personal touch, Mrs. Brie," I said as I gasped and panted, "Pills are so impersonal. But your fingers and the sound of your voice...that's much warmer and more intimate."

"Very well," she said as she continued to gently stroke me down there, "You've made your choice. We'll turn this into a daily ritual. Either you knock on my door and ask for my help or I'll summon you into my room and insist on you accepting it. Either way, I'll leave you trembling and feverish with lust every day. It'll be our special time together."

* * *

Over the next few days, our daily ritual became something I looked forward to. I saw Mrs. Brie as a companion and confidant. To surrender myself to her and allow her to make me helpless and squirmy with feverish sexual need felt naughty and forbidden. And in my mind that made the experience all kinds of delicious.

Standing naked in front of her with my legs spread wide and an ache of lust in my poor loins while she was respectably clothed and dignified was sweet shame and utter submission for me. For someone like me to voluntarily submit to this sort of abuse every day was the perfect way to show that that I loved them. I enjoyed obvious and outward expressions of my submissive role in Mrs. Brie's life. I would do almost anything for her.

Each day I went into her bedroom and every time I left, I was melting. My loins were throbbing desperately, and my pussy was dripping wet. My legs were always wobbly, and I could barely walk. It was a sort of erotic torture, but I loved Mrs. Brie and our daily ritual made me feel closer to her.

She would talk to me as she fingered my pussy and tell me how good I was for her daughter and how happy she was that I was in Lyndsay's life. I loved listening to the sound of her voice and would sometimes engage her in conversation so I could spend more time hearing the words that came out of her mouth.

* * *

Mrs. Brie wasn't the only one who surprised me by initiating intimate encounters. Less than a week after Mrs. Brie began the tradition of toying with my poor, defenseless pubic lips, Julie made a very awkward request.

"Gwen," she said, visibly uncomfortable, "Would it be alright if I gave you a spanking?"

I wasn't certain I'd heard her correctly at first. If you'd ever met Julie it would quickly become obvious that she's one of the most wholesome and innocent people in the entire county. She's kind and sweet. Being spanked by her would be like being spanked by Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. It's a concept that was almost impossible for me to wrap my head around.

"I'm sorry, Julie," I said, "Did you just say that you wanted to spank me?"

Julie's face blushed red and I realized I'd heard her correctly. Julie was neither cruel nor sexually adventurous, so the concept of her spanking my already tender ass took her outside of her comfort zone.

So, why would she even make such a request?

"It's not what you think," Julie blurted out defensively, "It's just I had a huge fight with Gabriel. He's all cranky because he didn't realize how difficult long-distance relationships could be, and now he's saying how he might break up with me, and I wanna punch him in his stupid face! I tried punching the heavy bag down in the gym, I think that helped a little bit, but it wasn't as emotionally satisfying as I'd hoped it would be, and I ...well, lots of other women spank you...and I thought maybe...I mean, you know! Maybe it would make me feel better if..."

Julie was babbling, and her hands fidgeted as she talked. She nervously avoided eye contact and the blush in her cheeks got even deeper. It was almost amusing to watch, but Julie was my best friend. No matter how amusing her behavior, I couldn't laugh at her.

I placed an arm around her shoulders and one hand over her mouth. Julie's eyes widened and she stopped talking as she focused on me.

"Julie, I get it," I said affectionately, "Gabriel hurt you, you're angry, you want to lash out. As your best friend I want to help. That's not even a question. I will always be on your side."

The tension visibly drained out of Julie's body and the color in her face returned to its normal alabaster. I removed my hand from her mouth, and she smiled at me.

"You're sure?" she asked, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I'm sure," I replied, "If total strangers can put me over their lap it seems to me that my best friend should be accorded the same privilege."

Julie's smile became far more pronounced and she gave me an awesome hug before escorting me to her bedroom.

Because of the rules set down by Lyndsay and Ms. Knauss, I'm constantly naked when I'm at home. So, removing my clothes wasn't necessary, however, there was the question of where Julie wanted me for the spanking.

"Um, where?" I asked, gesturing with my hands towards possible places Julie could sit while I went over her lap.

Julie had apparently not put any thought into the logistics of this and she gazed around her room, trying to make a decision. Sitting on her bed was always an option, however there was also a large ottoman at the foot of her bed and a chair at her computer desk.

"Here, I guess," Julie said as she sat down on the ottoman. She looked up at me, her eyes expectant, as if waiting to see what I would do next.

Julie was really an amateur at this. Most women would have ordered me over their lap and been stern and impatient about it. Julie was timid, uncertain, and kept looking to me for guidance. I slid over her lap with as much grace and dignity as I could muster, although it's difficult to look or feel graceful when you're stark naked and your ass is raised up and indecently on display.

My hands rested on the carpet and I looked down at the floor and waited for the stinging blows to rain down on my unprotected buttocks, but for several seconds silence reigned and nothing happened.

I began to wonder if Julie had changed her mind and then she said, "So, how does this work? Do I use a paddle? Or a wooden ruler? Or is it best if I just use my hand?"

I blew some errant strands of hair out of my face and asked, "Do you have a paddle or wooden ruler here in your room?"

"No."

"Then just use your hand," I replied.

I braced myself for the inevitable stinging swats of Julie's hand, but instead I felt her fingers lightly brush across my naked hindquarters. It felt more like Julie was fondling me than punishing me.

"Listen, Julie," I said, tensing my arms and legs as I prepared to get up off her lap, "If you don't want to do this, we-"

And that's as far as I got. As I flexed my muscles to pull myself off her lap, Julie's assault on my defenseless hindquarters began.

Based on the vicious spanking Julie delivered to my innocent bottom, I judged that she was remarkably angry at her boyfriend. I bounced and squirmed over her lap as she energetically heated up my ass. I mindlessly kicked as her punishing slaps stung worse than I'd anticipated. Her hand snapped down stingingly across my poor, abused bottom and I yelped as she turned my smooth, white buttocks a painful shade of red.

"Dammit, Gabriel! Gabriel, you asshole," she screamed along with other invectives as she reddened my ass. I had a hard time understanding her words as the sounds of my own sobbing and yelps of pain created a cacophony of noise that all but drowned out Julie's words of outrage.