Sweet Gwendoline

Most girls would have been terrified at this point and regretting terribly their decision to submit to Christina's terms, however I found myself positively elated at my current situation. My skin was sore where the ropes had bitten into my naked flesh and my shoulders and inner thigh muscles were aching from holding this awkward position for so many hours; however my puss was wet and I was tingling with anticipation of what my mistress would do to me next and elated at my helplessness. I had fantasized for years of being made helpless, vulnerable and stripped naked by some cruel woman and now it had all come true!

And then, just as I was thinking this I heard the door at the top of the stairs being unlocked. I raised my head and saw the door slowly open. Black leather boots appeared on the stairs and my breasts rose and fell as my breathing became labored. My heart was beating like a drum and I was overwhelmed by the powerful mix of emotions as my mistress slowly descended and sauntered over to my helpless, naked, young body. My nipples were throbbing as she approached and I was vaguely aware that my indecently exposed sex was wet.

Christina took her time ambling over to me. I was her possession and she knew it, there was no reason for her to hurry.

Christina had brought water which I drank gratefully. My heart had been beating like a drum and my struggles had caused me to sweat. I had been down in the basement for hours like that and needed to have my fluids replaced. I finished my water than then my mistress set the empty glass on the wooden chest.

"Aren't you lucky?" Christina said as she lightly pinched both of my helpless nipples. "You have never been with another woman before, and now you've got me as a guide to escort you into the land of Sapphic love."

"Yes Mistress," I responded to her question.

Christina took the opportunity to kiss me, to fondle and to stroke, and to cup my wet pussy in her strong, authoritative hands. She made an inspection of the inner and outer folds of my vulva, making me moan in lust and frustration.

"Oh, Mistress,"

I moaned, certain that I was about to reach climax, however she took her fingers away from my throbbing sex before I had my orgasm.

"Upstairs," my mistress assured me. "The dungeon is not a place for slaves to have their orgasms."

I was released from the post and then Christina told me to turn around and hold still so that she could bind my wrists behind my back.

My arms and legs were shaky after hours of being tied to the post, but I obediently did as Christiana commanded. I felt lovely it felt to have Christina's hands touching me, and then to cross my wrists behind my back. It was even more thrilling when the cord bit tight as Christina wound the ropes around my wrists. I stood erect, breathing heavily, still somewhat ashamed of the juice that I could feel as it flowed from my sex. I stood in passive nudity as Christina rendered me helpless with tight ropes and impossible knots.

Christina tugged at the ropes and pulled each knot carefully tight, and then she examined the ropes carefully to discover any slight trace of slack that might be present. And then she knotted the final piece of rope with a satisfied, ""There".

Christina then patted my naked bottom and turned me around so we were face to face, "how does it feel?"

"Mistress, I feel so helpless," I said, "Helpless and excited I suppose".

Apparently that was the right answer, as Christina proceeded to kiss me fiercely and then she led me; naked and helpless; upstairs to her bedroom.

There was tightness in my throat and a stirring in my loins as Christina led me to her room with an authoritative grip on my bare arm. She stood me naked near the center of her room and looked my naked body up and down before saying, "Look at yourself in the mirror, Darling."

I was turned to face a full-length mirror saw a naked girl, her arms bound behind her back, her breasts arrogantly outthrust, her belly concave and reddish indentations in her naked skin where ropes had bit painfully into her ankles, waist and torso. I almost didn't recognize this naked girl as me.

"You look beautiful, Darling," Christina said to me and then kissed my cheek. A moment later two soft arms were around my naked body and Christina's eager lips found mine. Her lips were so soft, I almost forgot how harsh she could be, but then she took one of my nipples between her thumb and forefinger and pinched it painfully.

"Mistress,"

I cried out in shock.

"Just a reminder of how helpless you are," Christina replied. "If I truly wanted to hurt that bewitching body of yours, there's nothing you could do to stop me. I don't want you to somehow forget that just because we're having sex."

My nipple throbbed deliciously as Christina removed her boots and her yoga pants. Like mine, her sex was completely shaved. And also like mine, her pubic lips were slick with her womanly juices. Apparently abusing naked girls excited her as much as it excited me to be stripped naked and abused.

And once she was naked from the waist down, Christina stood before me and said, "Kneel at my feet, Darling."

It was hard without my hands, but asking for Christina to untie me would have ruined the mood.

Christina's womanhood tasted differently than I thought it would. She actually tasted kind of like wine, but not a bold, aromatic, pungent sort of wine, more like a mild, pleasing aroma. I could barely taste her at all.

I licked her from the bottom of her pink, swollen lips and dragged my tongue up, rubbing the underside of her clitoris on the way. I was so focused on her unexpected mild taste that I failed to notice that her breathing had gotten heavier and faster as I used my tongue on her pudendum.

Christina taught me that it wasn't just about the licking. After I had gently pulled back the hood from her clitoris (using my tongue of course) she taught me how to gently trap her clit between my teeth and suck on it.

It was a delicate procedure, but Christina talked me through it and in the end, she had a lusty, powerful orgasm and got her juices all over my lips.

I remained on my knees while Christina came down from a powerful orgasm and slowly regulated her breathing from heavy panting down to something more standard.

"That was very good for a first time, Darling," my Mistress said as I looked up at her smiling face. "You have a natural affinity for pleasing a woman. I'm a lucky girl. I'm so glad that I found you."

I smiled at my mistress and I felt that I had somehow made quite a find as well. Kneeling naked at Christina's feet, her moist pubic lips inches from my face, my wrists bound helplessly behind my back I felt as if I had finally found my niche. My new status as Christina's sex-slave felt more fitting than any other position or role that I had ever been assigned in my entire life.

"We're both lucky, Mistress," I replied.

Christina grabbed her leggings and her boots and got dressed, leaving me as the only naked person in the room. I had thought that with her own lust satisfied that she would then tend to the throbbing need in my own aching pussy; however she simply stood there and watched me intently.

"Mistress," I asked, barely able to hear my own tiny voice over the sound of my frantically beating heart, "Aren't you going to allow me to cum? I got so sexually worked up while you had me tied down in the basement. My pussy is absolutely screaming for some attention."

"Slave-girls get orgasms when their mistress deems that she's earned them," Christina explained to me. "They never ask for them. Asking for favors is considered presumptuous."

I whimpered at that, my pussy was absolutely aching with need, but I didn't argue. Being a slave-girl was more than just being naked around clothed people, there was a true commitment involved with being a slave-girl. Constant sacrifices were required to prove that the slave-girl was serious in her desire to serve her master or mistress.

Christina looked down at my naked body and looked quite superior in her stylish clothes. I wondered if she might simply send me home now that I'd eaten her to orgasm, but she still had uses for me.

She favored me with a carnivorous smile and said, "Alright Gwendoline, you look awfully helpless and abused right now, sort of like a political prisoner. I think it's time for an interrogation."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was naked and my wrists were tied behind my back. What was I going to do other than agree? It wasn't like I could just walk right out of her house.

"I already know that you've never had sex with a woman before," she said, "But what about men?"

"No, Mistress," I admitted. "I've never had sex with anyone-at least not until today."

"Wow, I really did get a virgin," she said, sounding somewhat incredulous, "How about masturbation?"

"You said I'm not allowed to masturbate anymore," I replied.

"At what age did you start masturbating," she said, clarifying the question.

"I suppose around age fourteen."

"And how many times a day did you masturbate?"

I had to think about that one. "It varies, I suppose between one and four times a day. Some days I get more worked up than others."

"And what sort of things would get you worked up enough to make your masturbate four times in the same day?"

That hungry expression on her face seemed to intensify and I became all the more aware of how naked I was. "Well," I explained, "Back when I was in high school I was on the cheerleading squad for a while. I was good looking enough, but not so good with choreography. Our squad leader wasn't too happy with how slow I was to learn new routines and one day she threatened to pin me to the ground and strip me naked in front of the vice principal."

"And that excited you?"

"Well, yes," I replied, totally embarrassed.

"Why did it excite you when this girl threatened to strip you naked in front of your vice principal?"

"Several reasons," I replied, "The first I suppose simply being overpowered. Our squad leader was a strong girl. I knew she could easily pin me to the ground and hold me there helpless while she ripped off my clothes, if that's what she wanted to do. There'd be no way I could possibly stop her."

"So, you get excited at the thought of being physically overpowered and helpless; what else?"

"Well, being naked in front of the vice principal; first of all it's humiliating to be forced into showing my naked body, being undressed against my will in public, but somehow it's even more humiliating to expose my naked body to somebody her age. You see Vice Principal Murray is in her mid-thirties. She's probably old enough to be my mother."

"You're saying that if I forced you to be naked in front of an older woman, it would be more humiliating than if you were forced to be naked in front of a girl your own age?"

"Yes, Mistress," I replied.

"Oh, you do give me ideas," Christina said. "Is there any other reason that being stripped in front of your vice principal would excite you?"

My heart beat fast just thinking about the prospect of being helpless and forcibly stripped in front of my old high school principal as I tried to formulate an answer to Christina's question.

"Well, she's an authority figure. I always feel more submissive in the presence of an authority figure; teachers, principals, police officers, TSA agents; they all sort of make me feel intimidated. And of course if she really were a lesbian that would mean that she'd get some sort of lecherous thrill from looking at my naked body. It'd make the whole thing even more humiliating and demeaning."

"So, just to paraphrase," Christina said, "You find it exciting to be physically overpowered, forcibly stripped, humiliated and made to display your naked body in front of lesbians, authority figures and women who are old enough to be your mother."

I felt frightened about where this line of questioning was going, but I swallowed and answered her question anyway, "Yes, Mistress."

"I think I may be able to accommodate your wonderful libido," Christina said as she bent over and took one of my erect nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Her strong fingers were gentle at first, but she gradually increased the pressure on my swollen, sensitive nipple until I was whimpering in pain.

And while I was panting and whimpering, Christina continued to play with my poor, captive nipple and asked, "Are there any other kinky sexual fantasies I should know about?"

Of course there were others, there were too many to count. I blurted out fantasies as quickly as I could remember them and as fast as I could get them out of my mouth. I told her about my fantasy of being at the airport and strip-searched by TSA agents after setting off the airport metal detector and then being forced to submit to a body cavity search.

I told her my fantasy about a wooded area near Fair Oaks that I used to hike in despite the fact that "No Trespassing" signs are posted everywhere. I would sometimes fantasize that I would be caught trespassing and the woman who owns the land wouldn't call the cops, but would force me to strip naked and tie me to a tree and leave me there for hours. Sometimes in my fantasy she would rub sunscreen into every inch of my naked skin, getting me all aroused, but never allowing me to climax. Other times I would fantasize that she had a sadistic daughter who could delight in my naked helplessness and smear honey onto my breasts and pubic lips, attracting bees and causing them to land on my naked flesh and lick the honey off of me.

I told her my fantasies about being Cinderella and how my evil step-sisters and cruel step mother would strip me naked and torment me in a variety of different ways, sometimes involving the stiff bristles of a broom or a scrub brush against my soft, sensitive pubic lips while I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor.

There was also a harsh, arrogant customer at the bank named Susan Straff. Apparently her son had been dating some girl that she didn't approve of, because I remember one day she was yelling at a girl in the lobby and said that if she didn't stop coming around to her house and "seducing" her son that she'd take the poor girl out to the stables and horse-whip her. Most of the bank employees were horrified that Mrs. Straff would speak to

anybody

like that, but I ended up having fantasies about Mrs. Straff stripping

me

naked, taking me out to the stables, tying up my wrists high above my head and whipping me with a riding crop or a buggy-whip.

There were other fantasies and while Christina kept toying with my nipple; sometimes gently, sometimes painfully; until I'd told her every sexual fantasy I could remember ever experiencing.

"Are you sure you're not a lesbian?" Christina asked me when I finally finished, "Every single fantasy of yours seems to have a domineering woman in a central role; a cruel step-mother, a female TSA Agent, a nun with a ruler, wicked step-sisters...you don't seem to fantasize about men ever."

I hadn't really considered myself a lesbian until Christina brought up her question. I thought of my fantasies as "damsel in distress" sort of fantasies. The important thing was that I was abused and helpless in them. I never put a great deal of thought into who was inflicting the abuse upon me, however when Christina forced me to examine those fantasies I had to admit, it was always a woman who tormented and violated me.

"Not one-hundred percent sure, Mistress," I replied. "My desire to be stripped and helpless and punished made me odd enough. I never considered the idea that I might be abnormal in other ways as well."

Suddenly a sharp, biting pain in my nipple caused me to flinch and cry out in pain. Christina had dug her fingernails deep into my sensitive pink nipple and twisted, inflicting horrible pain on my poor little swollen nub.

"A little piece of free advice," Christina said calmly after I'd finished whimpering and wailing, "When talking to a lesbian, never refer to homosexuality as

abnormal

."

My body was still in shock, but somehow I panted out the words, "Sorry, Mistress."

"Apology accepted," Christina said graciously, "although I'll still have to punish you for what you've said. It will help you to remember not to say anything like that in the future."

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I realized that this punishment would be important for both of us. This punishment for a mere poor choice of words would be unfair, but unfair was exactly what I had been looking for nearly my entire life. I had found my cruel step-sister and I wasn't going to object now that she was fulfilling the role of being cruel.

Christina went over to her nightstand and took her time extracting a few things from a drawer. When she came back she set the items on the floor, at my knees and ignored them for a few seconds paying attention instead to my outthrust breasts, teasing and rubbing my nipples, making me pant as my sexual arousal went through the roof.

Then; once my nipples were swollen and enlarged and fully erect; she picked up her toys off the floor. There were two shiny, metal things with angry-looking jaws.

"These are called nipple clamps," Claudia explained, using her thumb and forefinger to cause one of the jaws to open wide. l breathed heavily as Christina slowly brought the metal device over to my left nipple and prepared to clamp in onto my sensitive, swollen flesh.

When the metal jaws bit down hard into my soft pink flesh, the pain was as sharp as being stung by a wasp. And I was so focused on the pain in my left nipple that when Christina took another nipple clamp and had it bite down on the flesh of my right nipple, it caught me totally by surprise.

Both of my nipples were throbbing in pain and then Christina showed me the nylon cords that were attached to the nipple clamps. I was informed that she intended to use those nylon cords as a leash. She tugged playfully and said, "Stand up, Darling dear, I'll show you how this works."

Getting up from the kneeling position without the use of my hands was difficult; however the sharp pain in my nipples every time she tugged was a

huge

motivator. I obediently followed her anywhere she led me with that leash of hers.

My poor abused nipples throbbed as Christina led me across the room and eventually I was made to stand in a corner. I whimpered as Christina raised one end of the leash and attached it to a metal ring that was about fourteen inches above my head.

"You'll stand in that corner until I tell you otherwise," Christina said, "Unless you think you can get free."

My nipples were suffering horribly just standing there. I couldn't imagine struggling to get free from the leash. The pain of pulling against the nipple clamps would almost certainly be severe enough to cause me to pass out.

"I'll stand in the corner, Mistress," I said in surrender.

"Good girl," Christina said, and then she patted me affectionately on my bare bottom and walked out of the room.

I had no idea how long Christina intended to keep me like this. My head hung low and my entire focus narrowed to my round bare breasts, my poor captive nipples and the cruel metal jaws that were biting into them.

The less I moved, the less my nipples hurt. Therefore I learned to minimize movement as much as possible. I let my arms and shoulders relax and didn't struggle against the ropes tied around my wrists. I stood straight and didn't slouch and I kept my weight evenly distributed on my right and left foot. I even slowed down my breathing as big gulps of air caused my chest to heave and a heaving chest meant those cruel metal clamps would tug on my poor hurting nipples.

In all of my fantasies about poor Cinderella being abused by her wicked step-sisters I had never envisioned this particular sort of bondage. Apparently Christina's imagination was more fertile than mine. I had known that you could tie a girl's wrists or ankles, but it never occurred to me that you could bind her nipples as well. This was a new and unexpected sort of bondage for me.