The Whipped Heiress

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This story is a sequel to "My Guilty Secret". You may want to read that before reading "Whipped Heiress" as you'll get more of the backstory that way.

_ _

My name is Heather Mädchen, heiress to the vast Mädchen publishing fortune.

Most women with my sort of wealth would be spending their days shopping for clothes in Paris, attending fashion shows in Milan or rubbing shoulders with celebrities in Hollywood.

Me? I'm being displayed naked and bound on a public street in Gymnos Beach.

For years I've had sexual fantasies and wet dreams about being bound, naked, spanked, and forced to sexually satisfy women. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone about any of these fantasies, however, when Karen Bowden discovered my guilty secret and offered to take me to an island off the coast of Greece where slavery is legal and turn me into her naked sex slave, I impulsively and recklessly jumped at the chance to take her up on her offer.

It was a fifteen hour flight to Sklavia, but we flew first class, so we had plenty of leg room and I slept for most of the flight. I had the most delicious dreams as I slept and then Mrs. Bowden woke me up shortly before we landed at Aasfalís Poli Airport.

"Wake up, dear," Mrs. Bowden said sweetly. "We're about to land."

My heart hammered in my chest as the reality of my situation came back to me. I'd signed a slave contract and the moment the plane touched down on Sklavian soil I would legally become Mrs. Bowden's property. It was too late to back out now. I was going to become a naked slave whether I wanted to be or not.

I carried Mrs. Bowden's carryon luggage as we walked off the plane and made our way toward customs. Mrs. Bowden declared that I was her slave, and she handed my slave contract to a customs official. The customs official looked over my paperwork, checked my passport and then she said that a security officer would take Mrs. Bowden and me to a special room where they processed slaves arriving from foreign nations.

The security officer was taller than me and had a handgun, pepper spray and handcuffs on her utility belt. I immediately felt intimidated by her.

"Come with me, please," she said in a firm voice, and I was taken to a room where I was told to strip naked.

"Remove all of your clothing," I was told. "Also remove all your jewelry. Surrender your phone and any other personal items you may be carrying. Slaves aren't permitted to own any sort of property."

Within minutes the room was filled with half a dozen security officers, both male and female. They all watched as I divested myself of my clothes and my personal belongings. I placed my clothes on the desk of a middle-aged woman who seemed to be in charge. Once I was fully naked, she gathered up everything and took my meager belongings to a wall of lockers.

Being naked in front of fully clothed authority figures made my loins throb and I felt feverish with desire. I desperately wanted someone to touch me. Little did I realize how soon someone would be laying hands on me.

I stood there naked, my breasts heaving up and down as my breathing became labored and I was informed that I'd get my clothing back in sixty days.

"Sixty days?"

I asked. "

My slave contract is only for a week!"

I turned to Mrs. Bowden, and she flashed me a wicked smile and said, "Well, I was concerned that I couldn't do all the delicious things I wanted to do to you in just seven days, so I wrote your slave contract up for a longer time period. If you read it more carefully you would have noticed."

"Can she do that?" I asked one of the security guards. "I didn't realize that it was going to be for so long!"

None of the security guards seemed to be concerned that Mrs. Bowden had extended my term of slavery without my knowledge. The officer in charge gave me a bored look and said, "Once the contract is signed it's legally binding. You should have read the contract more carefully before you signed it."

I felt a sense of panic and betrayal and then my next humiliation came as I was told to bend over and rest my weight on my elbows so they could perform a body cavity search on me.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"Its standard operating procedure for processing new slaves," one of the guards explained as she applied pressure to the small of my back.

I spread my legs and bent over at the waist. Then, one of the intimidating security guards snapped on a latex glove. My buttocks were grabbed and spread conspicuously far apart.

In addition to Mrs. Bowden and the guard wearing the latex glove, there were six security guards. They all watched with intense interest as my buttocks were spread apart to expose my delicate, pink anus. I could feel their eyes burning holes into me as a large blob of cold, oily lubricant was worked into my tight hole and strong, insistent fingers were thrust inside of me. It took all my self-control to remain bent over and shamelessly exposed as that authoritarian woman thrust her fingers roughly inside of me and probed deep.

The fingers slipped out and I felt relieved. Some of the tension went out of me, but then the fingers unexpectedly speared my asshole a second time and impaled me hard and deep.

"Aghhhhhh,"

I gasped as she began to jam her fingers brutally in and out. I felt my legs getting rubbery as the fingers abused my delicate orifice and tears welled up in my eyes. I took long, deep breaths and tried not to look at the faces of the security guards who watched me with cold eyes as my anus was impaled.

My legs felt weak as my ass was raped and I breathed a sigh of relief when the fingers were withdrawn. Of course, my relief was short-lived. It took only a few seconds for the security guard to strip off her latex glove, snap on a new one and tell me that she had to check my vagina next.

I gasped when I felt two fingers slide deep, into my vagina. The fingers probed and searched, mapping out every square inch of my interior. I felt that she spent entirely too much time probing my insides. A legitimate search of my vagina should have taken only a few seconds, but her fingers explored my moist interior until I was on the verge of a shuddering orgasm. When she finally withdrew her fingers from my sex, I was panting and feverish with sexual desire.

A slave collar was then buckled and locked around my neck. Mrs. Bowden was given the key and she dropped it in her purse. There was a stainless-steel tag on the collar that had my name engraved on it. Also, Mrs. Bowden's name was engraved on there as my legal owner. Information on how to contact Mrs. Bowden was imprinted on there...presumably to make it easy to contact her if I escaped and the people who found me wanted to return me to my rightful owner.

I was naked and wearing a collar that identified me as Mrs. Bowden's property. She was fully dressed and held into the key that locked the slave collar around my throat. I felt owned, exposed, vulnerable, helpless...and sexually aroused.

"Sign here," the officer in charge said to Mrs. Bowden. "Basically, this says that your slave has entered the country, gone through customs, been examined, found fit to be a slave and now she's officially remanded into your custody."

Mrs. Bowden signed and then she pulled some handcuffs out of her purse and ordered me to turn around and cross my wrists behind my back.

_ _

Mrs. Bowden took me by the arm and started pulling me through the airport. She hired a local man by the name of Kostas to carry her luggage as we made our way towards the exits. As I was dragged naked and overwhelmed past scores of travelers and airport employees, people stared fixedly at my nudity and yelled across the airport in my general direction. They were yelling at me in Sklavian, so I couldn't understand a word they said, but Mrs. Bowden asked the nice man carrying our luggage to translate.

"They're basically calling your slave names and offering to punish her," said Kostas. "It's a fairly common reaction when a naked slave is spotted in public. She can expect to get lots of attention every time you take her outside."

With my hands cuffed behind my back, there was nothing I could do to cover my nudity. I could only bow my head in shame as I felt myself blush with intense humiliation as I was paraded naked through the crowded airport.

"One of them just asked if you'll be taking your slave to the public stage," explained Kostas after a series of middle-aged women shouted in our general direction.

"What's the public stage?" Mrs. Bowden asked.

"It's a place near the beach where slave owners take their slaves to be whipped in front of a large crowd. Usually, they take their slaves there when they've behaved badly and need to be punished, but sometimes they're taken there simply because the slave owner wants to entertain the locals and show them how beautiful their slave is when they dance under the lash."

My heart hammered in my chest at the thought of hundreds of people gathering around to see me whipped on a public stage. The thought both frightened me and made my pussy throb with libidinous excitement. And as I was dealing with that potent cocktail of emotions, I noticed both male and female tourists pointing their cameras at me or using their phones to take videos of my bound nudity.

One bold person moved in, got within twelve inches of me and pointed his phone directly at my shaved pubes. I felt my face flush hot with embarrassment and wondered how I could survive sixty days of this sort of public humiliation.

After my excruciating trek through the airport, I was relieved to discover that there was a car waiting for us outside. A tall, lithe woman in a dapper uniform was holding up a sign with Mrs. Bowden's name on it.

"Hello, I'm Anastasia," the uniformed woman said. "I work for Corrina Nomikou. I'm supposed to drive you to her estate."

Anastasia looked me up and down, taking in every inch of my exposed nudity and then added, "And this must be your slave. Do you need any assistance in handling her?"

"No thank you," Mrs. Bowden said, her hand still firmly on my arm. "She's inexperienced, but she's still very well behaved. Aren't you, Heather?"

"Um, yes ma'am," I replied, feeling overwhelmed by so many eyes on my naked body, but still certain that polite agreement was my best course of action.

Still handcuffed, I was shoved into the back seat of a German luxury sedan whisked away from the ogling, picture-snapping crowds.

"Anastasia, some people in the airport mentioned something called a public stage," Mrs. Bowden said. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Oh, yes," our driver said as she merged with highway traffic. "It's a popular for the tourists and the locals alike."

"So, you've been there before?"

"Many times. They have a whipping post and a whipping frame for the slaves. The post is the most popular. The whipping frame holds the slave almost completely immobile. With the whipping post, only the slave's wrists are bound. That leaves the slave free to squirm and twist and dance around as he or she is whipped. It's far more entertaining that way."

"That's good to know," Mrs. Bowden said with a wicked tone in her voice. As she said it, she turned to me and favored me with a predatory smile. I swallowed hard and squirmed in my seat. I wondered not for the first time if I'd bitten off more than I could chew.

It took perhaps thirty or forty minutes to reach Corrina Nomikou's estate. When we arrived, there was a security gated private entrance, lush landscaping, a grandiose two-story house, and a large motor court, large enough to park at least a dozen large vehicles.

I was allowed to get out of the car, although Mrs. Bowden insisted that my wrists remained handcuffed securely behind my back. As I was escorted up to the main entrance of the house, I felt myself entering that bewitched state I sometimes do when I feel helpless and aroused at the same time. It's a delicious state of mind, filled with erotic desire and mindless obedience, where I feel helpless to disobey the authority figures who surround me.

Anastasia and Mrs. Bowden led me up the stairs and into the house. The main entrance led into a huge foyer with marble tile floors. I was pulled forward, deeper into the house and then I heard a female voice proclaim, "You must be Karen Bowden."

I thought I had gotten used to strangers seeing me naked, but as I saw a woman in a maid's uniform approaching, I felt another flood of embarrassment and my face flushed hot.

The maid introduced herself as Katerina and said that Ms. Nomikou would be down shortly. In the meantime, she offered to get us refreshments.

"Actually, would it be possible for me to wash up? Possibly take a quick shower. I just spent fifteen endless hours on a plane, and I feel grungy."

Mrs. Bowden was taken upstairs to avail herself of the shower in one of the many bathrooms on the estate. As a slave, it was decided that I wasn't permitted to wash myself and it was decided that I would be taken to one of the other bathrooms and a servant would bathe me.

My wrists were finally unlocked from the stainless-steel handcuffs. and I ended up being handed over to another maid. Her name was Ria and she had very definite opinions on slaves.

"Everyone on this estate are your masters or mistresses," Ria informed me. "You will address me as Mistress when you address me at all. I will indicate when you may speak. Be careful to understand my wishes and do as I say. All the servants here will have the authority to punish you for disrespect and disobedience."

I was instantly afraid of Ria; however, I was also sexually aroused by her stern, unforgiving demeanor. When she bathed me, she insisted that I arch my back and keep my legs far apart as if I were offering up my breasts and bald pubes to her. I gasped and squirmed as she washed me. She spent an excessive amount of time washing my breasts and my pink slit. By the time she was done bathing me and toweling me off, I was panting with sexual need and wave after agonizing wave of desire left me feverish.

_ _

Eventually, I was taken to meet with Corrina Nomikou. She was an elegant middle-aged woman of perhaps thirty-nine or forty. Her jewelry was tasteful. Her makeup was conservative and simple. Her hair was beautifully styled and presented, and her clothing was formal, yet stylish.

By contrast, I was naked, and my arms had been tied snugly behind my back in a box tie, causing my naked breasts to be pornographically thrust forward and lewdly on display for Ms. Nomikou to ogle. My wrists were bound with strong, unyielding rope with tight knots, and a ball gag had been forced into my mouth, preventing me from talking and forcing my jaws wide open.

The way my mouth was forced open meant that I had to continuously swallow to keep from drooling on myself. Inevitably, some of my saliva dripped from my wide-open mouth and down my chin. This increased my feelings of helplessness and humiliation even more. And then, some of the drool ended up falling upon my indecently exposed breasts.

Ms. Nomikou sat behind an antique mahogany desk and Mrs. Bowden sat in an upholstered chair nearby. The way the two dominant women were so well-dressed made me feel even more naked.

"Karen tells me that you come from a very wealthy family," Ms. Nomikou said, "and that you're your mother's sole heir. I find it to be deliciously kinky to have a wealthy heiress in my home who is also a naked and helpless slave. I imagine it's much more difficult for you than it would be for a working-class person."

"Mmmff,"

I replied through my gag. My mouth was stuffed, and I was unable to form words, making me feel even more helpless. I had a sexual desire to be helpless and displayed naked in front of total strangers, however, I couldn't verbalize that sexual desire because of the gag in my mouth.

"While you are a slave in my home, I will not make things easy for you. I've discussed it with Karen, and she's decided that share you with me as well as all my female servants. You'll be required to service any women in my household that desire you."

I'd be forced to have sex with the female servants? Even the maids? I hadn't expected that. As somebody who came from wealth, I never imagined that I'd be forced to have sex with common laborers.

"Also, you'll be given daily doses of a drug called Lagneserin. Lagneserin is a powerful aphrodisiac that is traditionally administered to female slaves in Sklavia. There's a separate drug that we give to male slaves. We find that slaves are easier to control if they're constantly aroused and in feverish need of sexual release."

My eyes widened at that startling revelation. I was already sexually aroused just from being naked and helpless! How much worse would my sexual need become when she started drugging me with aphrodisiacs?

"Also, you'll have to be taken out to the public stage and whipped," Ms. Nomikou proclaimed. "It's a tradition that new slaves be taken there within twenty-four hours of arriving on Sklavian soil. Failure to do so would be considered rude and disdainful of Sklavian traditions."

"I wouldn't want to seem rude," Mrs. Bowden said. "We're guests in Sklavia. We want them to think of us as ambassadors of good will."

That line seemed a bit over the top to me. Mrs. Bowden was probably just eager to have me publicly humiliated in front of a large crowd of prurient men and women who would cheer as my naked body was brutally reddened by the lash. If there wasn't a gag in my mouth, I probably would have said something sarcastic and insulting.

"Also, some of the servants have asked if they can use you to assist in their duties. It seems to me that it would help keep you in a slave-like mindset if you're given manual labors to do, so I've decided that you can help the maids with their cleaning duties and our kitchen staff as well. And to make certain you're motivated to do a respectable job; I've given the maids and the kitchen staff permission to punish you. If you're lazy or do poor work, your cute little bottom will suffer for it."

"Of course, as a slave you should constantly be putting your body on display for us. I like the way you're thrusting your breasts out towards me, however your legs should be spread wide to make your pubic lips as exposed as possible. A slave's owner should never have any difficulty in examining a slave's genitals"

I spread my legs apart. Then Ms. Nomikou told me to spread my legs even wider. I spread them wider and wider, until I felt a strain in my inner thighs. I was putting my swollen, moist pink labia indecently on display, but apparently that's what slaves in Sklavia were expected to do.

I was standing naked and bound while they sat. I struggled to maintain posture with my legs so ridiculously far apart and my chest so thrust out. I saw their eyes openly assessing my bound, naked body and clearly enjoying what they saw. It made me feel helpless, objectified, and exposed, but it was a delicious feeling. I was utterly naked, bound and juices were dripping from my lewdly exposed sex while Mrs. Bowden and Ms. Nomikou sat comfortably and fully clothed and openly studied every inch of my naked body.

_ _

Before my captors took me to the public stage, they drugged me with Lagneserin, and they waited to make certain the powerful aphrodisiac had the desired effect on me. When I was gasping with sexual need and my pubic lips were very visible and glistening with moisture, they decided that the drug had made me sufficiently delirious with lust and they said that I was ready to be taken out into public.

As I stood in line and waited to be whipped, I felt one agonizing wave of desire after another rip through my naked body. My nipples wee harder than I'd ever seen them before, and my sex throbbed with hungry spasms. I had tried rubbing my thighs together to alleviate some of the sexual tension I was feeling, but Mrs. Bowden slapped me hard across my ass and ordered me to stop.