When I saw Gretchen was leading me over to the whipping posts, I assumed that I would be bound to one and Gretchen would whip me and that it would all be over rather quickly.
Unbeknownst to me there's a lot of preparation and ceremony involved in these things. As a result it took at least twenty minutes for me to suffer through my first punishment.
First there was the waiting. Even though there were sixteen whipping posts in the lesbian section of the punishment park, none of them were available at the time Gretchen led me over to them. I stared in both lust and horror as sixteen beautiful, naked women, bound to sixteen wooden vertical posts, screamed, struggled, flinched and sobbed through their unjust punishments. It was scary to watch as cruel leather whips turned these women's perfect smooth skin an angry pink or red color. Some of the female slaves had bruises and welts before their punishment was over.
However it was also arousing. I'd never seen so many gorgeous, naked women in one place before. And they were forced to stand in a position with their arms over their heads, showing off their breasts and torso to their best advantage. I could definitely see why people would pay sixty euros to get into the punishment park. This was an erotic display worth seeing.
An employee of the park pointed out to Gretchen that next to each whipping post was a sign. Each sign had large bold lettering, declaring what each slave was being punished for.
A poor, unfortunate blonde slave with tears running down her cheeks was being whipped near a sign that read DISRESPECTFUL. Just a few feet away from her a gorgeous slave with pale skin and dark brown hair was being punished near a sing that read ATTEMPTED TO COVER HER NUDITY.
The park employee wanted to know what I had done, so that she could prepare the proper sign for me. Gretchen replied that I had spoken without permission.
"Oh, perfect," the park employee said. "We've got a sign placard all ready for that."
The girl was so eager to be please and be helpful. The fact that this was all going to result in my naked skin being horribly and painfully abused didn't concern her in the least. My pain and humiliation didn't even enter into the equation. My concerns were totally unimportant.
A naked, Asian girl was unchained from one of the whipping posts and I was led forward. Two women wearing white uniforms helped Gretchen unlock me from my handcuffs and made me press myself right up against the wooden post. Then they made me raise my arms so that my wrists could be bound in leather bondage cuffs that were secured by chains to the upper portion of the whipping post. They were very professional and efficient and within seconds I was chained and helpless.
Then a plastic sign placard was inserted into a wooden holder in the sign post about twenty inches away from me. In large, bold easy-to-read font the sign declared SPOKE WITHOUT PERMISSION.
The park employees decided to unclip my leash as it would likely just get in the way during my punishment. I looked over my shoulder and my eyes widened in fear as I saw Gretchen speaking with the park employees, trying to decide what whip to use on my naked skin.
All of the whips looked painful, but some looked worse than others. They had bullwhips, buggy whips, dog whips, snake whips and stock whips. Gretchen eventually settled on an Australian stock whip and she paid the girl a small fee to use it on me.
One of the park employees walked up and placed her hand gently on my naked back. "We're only going to give you twenty strokes, because this is your first time being whipped," the girl said. "But you must be very careful not to call out for mercy. You can scream if you like, but if you use words of any kind you'll have to be whipped a second time".
The girl who was to whip me, stood to my left and showed me the whip Gretchen had chosen. It looked thin and vicious. I dreaded the pain it was soon to inflict upon me.
"Kiss it," the girl ordered me.
I didn't want to, but slaves do not disobey. I gently placed my lips on the whip and kissed it. Gretchen stood behind the girl and captured the moment by taking a photo with her digital camera. I was certain that it would only be one photo of many.
The first blow wrapped around my waist. It hurt like hell and I screamed out loud, but it was an inarticulate scream with no words. I was working hard not to earn more punishments.
The second blow stung the backs on my thighs and the third went across my back. They all hurt like hell! It was much more painful than a spanking! I flinched, stamped my feet and yanked on my wrist restraints. I knew I couldn't break free, but the whipping was so painful, my body couldn't help but react.
I thought that a proper whipping would leave marks on my naked back, but leave the rest of my body alone. However the girl with the whip had other ideas. Certainly she landed a number of painful blows on my back. However she also left whip marks on my naked buttocks, the backs of my thighs and a few blows even wrapped around my upper torso and left painful marks on the side of my breasts.
I screamed and sobbed and struggled through the whole thing, but the girl took no mind. She was a professional and wouldn't allow my pitiful screams to stop her from whipping me or even make the blows less painful. There was no emotion in her at all. No anger and no mercy. Simply a desire to do her job well, and then move on to the next girl.
After ten strokes, Gretchen halted the whipping so that she could fondle me between my legs. She rubbed my clit and fingered my pussy and got me so excited and aroused that I very nearly had an orgasm right there, while chained to the whipping post.
Then when I was right on the verge of a powerful orgasm, she withdrew her fingers and told the girl to continue whipping me.
I almost screamed in protest. It was too cruel! The whipping was punishment enough! To bring me to the brink of an earth-shattering orgasm and then leave me sexually frustrated on top of the whipping was far more punishment than I deserved!!
The last ten strokes seemed to hurt a lot more than the first, and to make things even more humiliating I noticed that (without consciously meaning to) I was grinding my crotch against the whipping post every time the whip struck my thighs or buttocks. If the whipping had gone on longer I might even been able to rub myself to orgasm this way.
Sadly, the whipping ended before I was able to use the whipping post to rub my pussy to orgasm.
When the whipping was done, I noticed Gretchen was still taking pictures. Apparently photos of her naked slave, bound to a whipping post with real tears on her face were important to her. She spent at least ten minutes making certain that she got enough good quality photos of me in my painful predicament. I rather hoped that nobody would see those photos other than Gretchen and me.
I was still sobbing and had whip marks from my shoulders to my knees and was covered in sweat when the two park employees came to unchain me from the whipping post.
"That's one slave who will never speak without permission again," I heard Gretchen say.
"Well, if she does you can always bring her back to us," I heard one of the park employees reply.
I wanted to say something angry and sarcastic in reply, but instead I got down on my hands and knees and thanked them for my punishment.
* * * * *
I suppose it was about fifteen minutes later I was being prepared for my next punishment. This time I was being punished for using my hands to protect my ass during my morning spanking. Finding a sign that explained what I was being punished for was difficult. Gretchen was forced to choose between a sign that said "disobedience" and a sign that said "poor self control".
Gretchen didn't think either sign was really perfect, but she eventually settled on
"poor self control". The sign was selected and then I was led (on a leash of course) over to a row of pillories.
The pillories weren't as popular as the whipping posts and so there was no line and no waiting period for me to be locked into one. There looked to be about a dozen pillories and only two female slaves already locked into them.
I was led over to one and a park employee placed the "poor self control" sign into a wooden sign post next to the device where I would be bound. "Just lean over, Cutie and I'll do the rest," the park employee said in an oddly friendly tone of voice.
I bent over and she gently guided my wrists and neck into the appropriate slots. I felt a surge of panic as the hinged board came down and trapped my wrists and neck in place. Then my panic intensified when I heard the padlock lock the two halves of the wooden pillory securely into place. I was suddenly and completely helpless and I had no idea what Gretchen was planning on doing to me next.
To prolong the suspense, Gretchen spoke to the uniformed park employees in hushed tones and at a safe distance so that I wouldn't know in advance what sort of punishment Gretchen was planning to inflict on my helpless body. After they were done whispering I heard all three of them walking over to me and a rustle of things being taken out of Gretchen's shopping bag.
"Spread your legs, Sweetie," one of the park employees coaxed as she gently but firmly pushed my thighs apart, "And relax your sphincter muscle".
I swallowed hard as I guessed what was coming next. Strong hands pried my buttocks apart and a cold, thick lubricating gel was squirted into my anus.
Some of the gel dripped down onto my pubic lips and down my leg. I felt strong, confident hands wiping off the excess and getting me more aroused as my pubic lips were stroked far more than necessary. Then a finger entered me and worked a glob of gel deep into my anus, poking deep and twisting around more than I thought was strictly needed.
I stamped my feet in panic and breathed heavily. The woman with the strong hands told me to calm down and spread my legs apart or else they would get a spreader bar and bind my ankles far apart. That caught my attention and I tried to calm down. I tried to slow down my breathing and I spread my legs as far apart as I could.
I really hate being anally penetrated and tears were starting to well up in my eyes at the thought of how humiliating this was.
Even though I couldn't see it, I could feel what was happening behind me. Strong hands pulled my buttocks far apart, and then something hard and foreign was placed against my asshole.
"Relax your sphincter muscle, Sweetie," a female voice instructed. "Don't make it rape."
Then without further warning, the dildo was FORCED past my sphincter muscle and inside of me. I screamed as I was anally violated and fought to break free, but of course it was all pointless. The pillory was strong and sturdy and I was firmly trapped by it.
I yelped and cried and would have begged for it to end, except that I knew I didn't have permission to speak and thus begging would earn me even more punishments.
