Return to Sessia

It was locked in the pillory again. It was humiliating for a naked girl to be locked in the pillory. A girl had to bend over at the waist and stand with her legs indecently far apart while her neck and wrists were held helpless. My ankles were also held helpless by leather ankle restraints that had been clipped on to stainless steel rings that were embedded into the wooden platform I was standing upon.

Gretchen began to stroke my bare pubic lips that had been so indecently displayed by the position I was bound in, and I could feel my sex throb and become even wetter with the attentions Gretchen's fingers were paying to my needy sex.

I moaned, squirmed and whimpered and hopefully asked, "May I come, Mistress?"

"No, you may not, you prurient little temptress," Gretchen replied, firmly, "I just want you good and hot before we begin."

I was feeling very naked, exposed and vulnerable. The final indignity had come when something had been forcibly thrust into my unsuspecting mouth. It was a metal ring held behind my teeth by a leather strap across my cheeks and buckled firmly behind my head.

"Silence and immobility, Darling," Gretchen informed me. "Perfect conditioning for a slave-girl."

I had no way to disagree with her. I doubt I could feel more like a slave-girl if I tried. I was naked, my buttocks, pubic lips and anus were shamelessly exposed, I was utterly unable to speak and my mouth was held wide open, so Gretchen could probe my mouth and fill it with whatever she chose.

And while my mouth was held awkwardly open like that Gretchen felt my exposed sex from front to back, parting my labia and moving her finger across my lubricated cleft. Then she inserted two fingers deep within my needy, throbbing sex. I stamped my right foot on the wooden platform and panted as Gretchen teased my throbbing pussy, and then when her phone rang, she removed her fingers from my sex and I heard her say, "

Hello?"

It seemed unfair to me. Here I was naked and helpless with my most erotic treasures blatantly exposed and available to her, and Gretchen ignored my naked body so that she could talk to her boss, or Victoria, or possibly somebody from the O.S.I.

As a slave-girl I was quite often left out of the loop about Gretchen's plans, maneuverings and negotiations, and this time was no exception. And I wasn't even able to overhear much of what Gretchen said as the sound of my own moaning did a lot to drown out the sound of Gretchen's voice.

Gretchen walked away and left me alone like that in the Punishment Park, naked, helpless and alone. I tried to call out to her, but the only sounds that came out of my mouth were,

"Mmmmsrs! Mmmnnsss! Oooomthhhhh!!"

I was naked and completely helpless, and Gretchen had given me no hint of when she would be returning. Did she plan this in advance as some sort of psychological torture? If she did, it was working. Being left alone like this while naked and helpless, every minute seemed like hours. The Punishment Park had rules about touching other people's slaves, but would those rules be adhered to in my case? It would be just my luck that the first time the rules were broken, would be when my naked body was the one that would suffer.

Every ten minutes or so I could hear movement behind me. Was it a park employee? Was it a tourist taking a picture of my naked butt and exposed pubic lips? Was it Gretchen coming back to punish me? I had no way of knowing.

The metal ring gag in my mouth forced me to drool. It was an extra added humiliation. The ring strapped in my mouth promoted salivation but robbed me control.

My saliva freely dripped out of my widely open mouth. My efforts to swallow it back had soon proven to be ineffective. After Gretchen had left me alone I had explored the possibilities of speech. But the sounds that emerged from my gaping mouth were too demeaning. I quickly gave up on any attempts at verbal communication.

Occasionally I would see a park employee walking by with a naked slave in tow, however that was fairly infrequent. Being bound in the pillory severely limited my ability to view the park. Unless a person was directly in front of me, I was unable to see them.

And then, after several hours (or perhaps it was only several minutes), I heard a female voice call out, "Is that you, Miss Schlank?"

"Ynnngg!!"

"Sorry, Miss Starke said that you'd be gagged. She's going to be delayed, so she sent me to take care of you."

"

Alllsssnahhhhh?"

"All right, I'm going to take that out of your mouth. Miss Starke never actually said that I had to leave you gagged, and I really can't talk to you when you're like that."

"Oh, Mistress! Oh God, thank you!!"

I couldn't believe how grateful and relieved I was that a park employee had arrived and removed that damn gag from my mouth, however I felt so much less helpless and so much more humanized now that I had control of my mouth again.

"Call me Alex," Alexandra said.

The simple invitation to familiarity spoke of our relationship together. Alexandra and I weren't exactly friends, however she and I had known each other for months and she was rather fond of me. Oh, she would inflict painful punishments on my naked skin if her job called for it, however she was rather fond of me. And I suppose I was rather fond of her too.

"Was it really all that bad?" Alexandra asked, holding the ring gag near my face where I could see it.

"It was awful, Alex! That thing made me drool all over and feel gross! It's cruel to make a slave wear one of those things!"

Alexandra set aside the ring gag and then held up a riding crop where I could see it. It was slender, flexible and wicked looking. I was sure it would sting terribly if it was smacked against my bare skin.

"You do understand, I'm going to be cruel to you too?"

I looked at the instrument of stinging discipline, but didn't feel panic or despair. Indeed, I felt the naughty parts of my naked body throb with an even greater intensity as I stared at the wicked riding crop and understood that it was imminent that Alexandra would be using it to hurt me.

"Well, yes, but it's a different kind of cruel. I'm used to corporal punishment. I'm not used to that awful gag thing. The way it forced me to keep my mouth wide open and drooling, it was dehumanizing. I felt less like a human being and more like some sort of animal!"

Alexandra took a step back and gave me an amused look and asked, "And being hit with a riding crop doesn't? You do know this thing was designed for thwacking horses, right?"

Okay, Alexandra had a point, but I was used to spankings and whippings. I wasn't used to ring-gags.

"There's just no explaining me, Alex," I said and my imprisoned hands fluttered uselessly, "I want to be objectified and subservient, but there are some things that can be done to a slave that I truly hate."

"Like being gagged." Alexandra asked.

"Like being gagged," I confirmed.

"So, now that you can talk," Alexandra asked, now standing behind me and gently rubbing the leather loop of the riding crop across the exposed flesh of my left butt cheek, then across the backs of my thighs, "Why don't you tell me where your friend went?"

"You mean Gretchen?"

Suddenly there was a stinging pain about an inch above the crease where my left thigh met my left buttock. I gasped in pain, but managed not to scream.

"Of course I mean Gretchen," Alexandra replied calmly. "It's not like her to leave you alone like this. Where did she go?"

"I'm not sure where she went," I replied, "She got a phone call. Apparently she wanted some privacy while she talked to them. "

I couldn't see Alexandra because of the way my head was locked in the pillory, but I could feel her hands fondling my naked buttocks and thighs. Then I felt her feminine fingers insinuating themselves in the cleft between my butt cheeks and gently stroking my anus. It always made me nervous to be touched there and my legs trembled at Alexandra's touch and my buttocks and thigh muscles tensed up.

Finally her hands were withdrawn from my naked hindquarters and I relaxed. Then Alexandra asked, "Who was she talking to?"

"I'm not sure who she was talking to," I replied and then suddenly there was a stinging pain about four inches below the crease between thigh and buttock. This was starting to feel like an interrogation where a cruel female Nazi interrogator tortures some poor, naked girl from the French resistance for information. Did somebody tell Alexandra that this was one of my sexual fantasies? Or did she perhaps guess that it was?

"It was probably Victoria," Alexandra opined. "Tell me, what exactly is the deal with Victoria anyway?"

The question caught me completely off guard. I had no idea what deal Alexandra was referring to.

"Her deal?"

I asked, hoping for some sort of elaboration.

Suddenly there was a sizzling line of pain directly across the crease where my left buttock joined to my left thigh. It was the most painful stroke of the crop yet and I let out a feminine yelp of anguished pain.

The pain from that blow lingered and burned and left me panting, but through the haze of stinging pain, I managed to hear Alexandra say, "When Victoria is here she barely even looks at the slaves. We have some of the most breathtakingly beautiful women in the world here at the Punishment Park, and they're all naked. Victoria never gives any of them a second glance."

"Perhaps she's straight?" I suggested.

Without warning the crop hit me again. This time on the lower part of my buttocks. There was a burning sensation on my naked skin like liquid fire and I screamed.

"Argggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Arrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!"

My screams didn't seem to bother Alexandra at all and she continued with our conversation as if my bottom wasn't burning and I wasn't panting in pain and tears weren't welling up in my eyes.

"We have male slaves too," Alexandra reminded me. "They're gorgeous too. Some of them are athletes or professional models when they're not locked into a slave contract, but Victoria never gives any of them a second glance either. Why is that, do you suppose?"

I didn't have a good answer to Alexandra's question and that earned me another stinging stripe on my bare bottom.

Alexandra continued to ask me questions about Victoria and she kept not liking my answers. For every disappointing answer I gave her, she gave me another intensely painful stripe on my naked bottom

After fourteen stinging blows from the riding crop, I burst into tears. Either by design or by coincidence, that's when Alexandra decided to stop asking me questions and to stop punishing my naked bottom.

In the end I had confessed that Victoria was the most asexual woman I had ever met. She seemed to be obsessed with corporate accomplishments, corporate agendas, corporate power, improving her resumé and getting promoted, however she'd never shown any interest in having sex with anyone.

"She's an odd one," Alexandra admitted and then she gently patted my naked bottom. Her physical contact was gentle in the most technical sense of the word, however my bottom was so sore and tender that even her gentle touch made me gasp in pain.

"You look cute like that," Alexandra assured me, "But Gretchen said she may be gone for hours and I refuse to leave you bent over like that for such a long time. I'm going to put you on one of the exhibition stages."

It turned out that the exhibition stage was a small wooden stage, about eight inches high and with two metal posts set into the stage about six feet apart. Alexandra had me stand on the stage with my arms raised above my head and far apart so that my wrists could be fasted to the metal posts to my left and my right.

I had seen slaves bound spread-eagle on these stages before, however I never knew what they were called.

"We usually tie a slaves ankles far apart when they're standing on an exhibition stage," Alexandra confided to me, "However I'm being kind to you. All I ask is that you keep your ankles at least shoulder length apart at all times and I won't bind your ankles."

"Thanks, Alex," I replied earnestly and spread my legs apart even further than she requested. I felt like a slut with my legs so far apart and my pubic area so indecently exposed and obscenely on display, however I wanted Alexandra's approval more than I wanted a reputation for decency.

"You're a good girl, Diane," Alexandra assured me and then she kissed me on the forehead.

My bottom was on fire and my naked body was being displayed for the enjoyment of leering tourists, park employees and the European media, however I couldn't help but have fond feelings for the woman who had left me in this predicament. She was as kind as a Punishment Park employee could be towards a slave, and she seemed to feel a certain amount of affection towards me.

If it were possible, I would demand that Alexandra always be the employee who punished me at the park, however slave-girls were never in a position to demand anything.

Alexandra and I exchanged a few more kind words and then she left me naked and bound, while she went about her duties. The tourists could stare at my bound nudity and take photos of me until Gretchen returned to free me. Sadly, I had no idea how long that could take. Gretchen might be gone for three minutes or she might be gone for three hours.

Very few tourists were bold enough to ogle my nude body at close range and most of them viewed me at a distance of twelve feet or more. There was nothing in Sessian law that demanded they keep that sort of distance. It was just simple human psychology and conditioning.

However, after perhaps thirty or forty-five minutes of being left out on the exhibition stage for the public to gawk at me, I heard a loud gasp from in front of me, followed by a girlish giggle. My head had dropped after standing so long and I didn't see the source of the feminine laughter at first.

When I raised my head, I saw a female tourist of about my age with an amused smile on her face. She was about my age and seemed to be about my height (which is quite a feat for a woman. I'm 5' 10"), she had a really cute face and a really slender build with small breasts, a flat tummy, a narrow waist and boyish hips.

"Diane, what

happened

to you?" the amused girl called out.

The girl's accent was American, however I didn't recognize her. The scary thing was that she seemed to recognize me.

"I'm sorry," I said apologetically, "Have we met?"

"I'll say we have," the American girl enthused,

"Its Courtney!"

I stared at the girl for several seconds, attempting to place her face into some sort of event from my past. She wasn't anyone I'd ever worked with at the bank, I was pretty certain I'd never seen her at my health club in Falls Church and she wasn't anyone who lived in my neighborhood back in Fairfax County.

"Courtney Mood?"

I finally asked, remembering a girl from high school that was the same height and build as this girl.

"Now

you remember," the girl said enthusiastically, "We were only in like half a dozen classes together!"

Now that I recognized Courtney, my humiliation at being naked and bound in public was doubly intense. It was one thing to be naked, exposed and humiliated in front of strangers, however it was much more psychologically crushing to be naked, exposed and humiliated in front of a girl that had once been one of my classmates back in high school. I squirmed uncomfortably, while Courtney's eyes roamed all over my naked body.

"You used to be Goth," I protested, "Back in high school you died your hair black and wore black lipstick."

"And I wore heavy, black eye makeup," Courtney added, "I finally grew out of my Goth phase and became an adult. Now I've got a respectable job at Ernst & Young and I pay taxes like a good little corporate drone! Can you believe it?"

"Wow, you've certainly changed," I said and despite my promise to Alexandra, I wanted to close my legs together in an attempt at modesty. Exposing my naked body to Courtney somehow felt like a much greater violation than exposing myself to Punishment Park employees or members of the European media.

"What about you?" Courtney countered, "Back in high school you were the good-looking, athletic one who got the good grades and the teachers loved you! Now you're being disgraced in public, stripped naked and tied up for all the tourists to gape at! Back in high school you wouldn't even shower with the rest of us in gym class!"

"Yeah, well, um, it's sort of a long story, how I got from there to here," I said hesitantly.

Courtney shrugged her shoulders and smiled, "Well, it doesn't look like you're going anywhere anytime soon. Tell me your story."

I could feel my face and breasts burning with the heat of my humiliation and helplessness. I didn't want to tell Courtney

anything

about my relationship with Gretchen or how I ended up becoming her sex slave, however Gretchen's rules, Sessian law and the Punishment Park rules all pretty much forbade me being rude to Courtney, and refusing to talk to her could easily be considered rude.

I felt panic and humiliation at being displayed naked in front of Courtney, my swollen, erect nipples and shaved pubic lips on display for her, while she wore long-sleeve tee and Adriano Goldschmied jeans, however being forced to explain how my sexual fantasies had led me to become Gretchen's lesbian lover and eventually Gretchen's naked and powerless slave-girl seemed far more humiliating and unfair. It was like I was being turned inside out and even my most intimate secrets were being put on display for Courtney to examine.

Courtney seemed to take a certain sadistic glee in watching me squirm and whenever we reached a part of my narrative that seemed to make me especially uncomfortable, she insisted that I be especially detailed and descriptive with those parts of my story. She was showing a keen interest in making me feel embarrassed, disgraced and humiliated.

"Why are you treating me like this?" I finally asked Courtney. "Back in high school you never exhibited any tendencies towards sadism. Why are you treating me like this now?"

"Seriously?" Courtney asked. Her tone of voice seemed to indicate I should know the answer already.

"Back in high school you were one of the popular girls, you were good-looking, athletic, you got good grades and all the teachers liked you. Meanwhile I was one of the losers. I was flat-chested, ungraceful and I was failing geometry, chemistry and German. You had everything so easy and I had everything so hard."

"It wasn't as easy as you think," I countered, "I was a lesbian in a homophobic school. I spent my entire four years of high school in the closet."

"I'm a lesbian too, you big dummy," Courtney spat, "I was just as deep in the closet as you were!"

I tried to gain some sympathy from Courtney, but she just didn't want to listen. Apparently I was a symbol of everything she wanted back when she was in high school and she never got. Seeing me naked and humiliated was something she had been dreaming of four about half a dozen years now.

"Look, Courtney, I know I'm helpless, I know you've got me. And I'll admit I'm frightened. You seem so ... so ... well, so different now."

"I am different," Courtney conceded, "I feel more confident and more goal-oriented. And one of my most important goals for right now is to see you suffer. You can understand that, can't you?"

Realistically, I couldn't. I honestly couldn't think of a single mean thing I had ever done to Courtney, so I couldn't really understand her need for revenge. I told her so, but she just brushed my words off as inconsequential.