After I'd been whipped, I'd been given to Leona so that she could clean me up and rub medicinal oils into the areas of my flesh that were reddened and sore.
Leona was a slender, graceful, young woman with an oval face, high cheekbones and a friendly smile. She was utterly lacking in malice and her congenial attitude was conspicuously out of place at the Crestview Center.
Leona brought me to an area that was well lit and hospital clean. She laid me face down on a bed and grabbed a bottle of soothing oils to rub into my skin. She placed my head on a pillow and spread my legs apart before she went to work.
"She got you good, didn't she?" Leona said as she examined the whip marks on my body. "Some of these are welts. Those will take longer to heal."
The aromatic scent of the oil was intoxicating. Leona poured generous amounts of it all over my wounded buttocks and the backs of my thighs. Next, she placed her hands on my punished bottom and began to massage it in.
"
Ooooh, ow."
I gasped.
"I'm sorry," Leona said, pulling back slightly. "I was trying to be gentle."
"It's okay," I sighed. My body was covered with painful whip marks, and everywhere I was marked, there was a shocking amount of pain. The pain was intensified by Leona's touch, but in the long run Leona's ministrations would be good for me.
"Rub it in well," I told her. "It'll help my skin to recover, right?"
"It will," the good-natured girl assured me. "Thank you for being so reasonable."
All of those welts and sore places erupted into fresh agony as Leona kneaded and massaged my abused buttocks. I was unable to stifle my gasps as her strong fingers worked my flesh, but I did my best to hold still and let her do her job.
"I'm thinking your sister has some sort of grudge against you," Leona commented as she worked her hands across my reddened buttocks. She meticulously worked her miraculous oils into my left buttock, then my right buttock, and even the tight furrow in between my abused cheeks.
"
Ooooh,"
I gasped as her fingers rubbed oil into the pink, delicate flesh of my anus before grabbing her bottle and anointing me with more oil.
"It's part of an old family squabble," I said to Leona as she smoothed her hands across the backs of my thighs.
"I suppose I should have been nicer to her when we were growing up."
As Leona's hands worked across my body, she shared stories about difficulties she'd had with her own sister. They used to fight like cats and dogs, but a few years ago they found a way to reconcile their differences and now they're the best of friends.
"It took a while, but we get along remarkably well now," Leona confided.
"My hope is that you and your sister can work things out too."
I wasn't being honest with Leona. The truth was that my sister and I got along famously. The only reason that she sentenced me to imprisonment at the Crestview Center was because I requested that she do so. And the only reason I made that request was because the only way I can experience an orgasm is when I'm helpless, naked and being abused by cruel, dominant females.
I have a multitude of psychological problems that keep me from experiencing sexual release in any other way. So, rather than work on my psychological issues, I decided to have myself sentenced to a specialized prison where the prisoners are stripped naked and then placed at the mercy of handlers and prison guards who take pleasure in tying up, spanking, whipping and sexually abusing their prisoners.
Okay, maybe it was an imperfect solution, however, I found it to be wickedly exciting to be a naked, helpless prisoner and I'd had the most intense, memorable orgasms of my life while being abused and controlled by the women of this institution.
"I'm sure we'll be fine," I told Leona. "Lexis can't possibly be mad at me forever."
Then, Leona had me turn over and fetched more oil for the front of my body. I felt a sudden surge of shame and anxiety, knowing that this sweet girl was going to place her hands on the most intimate parts of my body and my face blushed hot.
Leona saw the look of distress on my face and tried to reassure me.
"I'm not going to molest you," she said. "I'm just here to help."
Leona was a truly sweet girl. I told her that I trusted her and tried to relax as she rubbed oil into my belly and into my legs.
"You'll get used to me placing my hands on you," Leona said as she poured more oil into her left hand and set the bottle down.
"Constance von Baden tells me that your sister has sentenced you to an additional twenty days, so you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other."
"Twenty days?" I exclaimed as I attempted to sit up.
Leona gripped me by the shoulders and forced me to lie flat again. Then she cautioned me not to move until I had permission.
"Your sister seems to think that the harsh punishments and lack of privilege you endure here are doing you a world of good," she explained. "And she's deduced that the longer you're here, the more improved you'll be when you're finally released."
I whimpered as Leona rubbed oil into my breasts, lifting them and squeezing them as she worked. However, my whimpering had little to do with the painful way she handled my punished breasts and a great deal to do with my extended incarceration.
I had recently discovered my masochistic tendencies. Not long after that, Lexis discovered her sadistic tendencies. And with me incarcerated and helpless, Lexis decided to take advantage of my vulnerable situation and turn me into her lesbian sex slave.
I relished the idea of submitting to an imposing, beautiful lesbian, but not to my twin sister! Not only would that be incest, but incest with my identical twin! How warped would it be to be dominated, punished, and sexually abused by my exact double? That's the sort of intensely bizarre experience that leads to psychological issues that are difficult to pronounce.
I was shaken from my inner thoughts when Leona parted my legs and rubbed oil into my inner thighs. With my legs spread, my swollen pubic lips were shamelessly on display. I held my breath as this sweet girl smoothed her hands across my inner thighs and my sex pulsed wetly.
I hoped that Leona would finish before she noticed how aroused I was, however, when she finished working her hands across my legs, she spread my legs pornographically wide, poured out more oil and began rubbing it into my exposed, pink slit.
"Aaaaahhhhh"
I gasped. My sister had inflicted an excruciating amount of pain when she whipped me between my legs and as Leona's slick fingers explored the poor, abused lips of my vagina, I squirmed and whimpered. My whipped loins were so sore and tender that even a gentle touch created a flood of agonizing pain.
My pussy was reddened and sore from being struck by the whip. I was awash with agony as Leona ran her fingertips up and down the swollen folds of my labia. I gasped and panted, but eventually the oils that Leona rubbed into my flesh reduced my suffering down to a dull and pleasant ache.
"You've had a rough day, dear," Leona said as she finished and put her medicinal oil away. "Close your eyes and get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."
My mind was awash with thoughts of becoming my sister's lesbian sex slave and I was certain that sleep would never come. However, as the red-hot sting of the whip faded, my body felt soothed, and a sensation of dreamy contentment washed over me. My feelings of fear and distress drifted away, and I soon found myself getting drowsy. I had time enough to wonder if I'd been drugged before my eyelids felt heavy and I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
The next morning, one of the guards led me out to the grassy field behind the main building. My sister was out there waiting. She and the guard exchanged greetings and then she asked for some privacy so she could talk to me alone.
"I think we need to have a little chat," my sister said. "You can't stay here forever, and from what you've told me none of the women in your orbit are willing to give you the sort of experience you need to be sexually fulfilled."
"It's the Sterling family name," I responded. "Our family has a reputation for destroying people who cross us. Even if I give a woman consent to spank me or whip me with a belt, they'll worry that my family might come after them later and accuse them of assault. They'll get scared that if they give me the sort of sexual experience I need, they'll end up in jail, or worse."
"The obvious solution is that I take over as your disciplinarian," Lexis explained. "I'll be the one who punishes you. I'll be the one who sexually objectifies you. I'll be the one who makes certain that you feel helpless and abused."