The Whipped Heiress Ch 04

For years I had sexual fantasies about how a naked slave could be used, abused and punished, however, Corrina Nomikou had her own ideas. One of them was called the single glove.

I was made to stand naked in front of a massive mirror and Ms. Nomikou and one of her maids laced me into it. The leather harness tightly imprisoned my arms behind my back, making me helpless and pulling my elbows painfully close together.

"It does wonders for a girl's figure, dear. When Katerina is finished with the laces, you'll love yourself," Ms. Nomikou insisted as the laces were tightened and my shoulders were pulled farther back, forcing my breasts indecently forward.

I sighed and gazed at my reflection in the mirror. I watched my straining shoulders and prominently displayed breasts with a silent sort of approval. It seemed as if my breasts had been enlarged by at least one cup size.

"You look exquisite, dear," Ms. Nomikou gushed. "Now straps over your shoulders, just in case."

The leather straps exerted an upward pull on the glove, making me feel even more helpless. The glove immobilized my arms and forced me to thrust my breasts out prominently as if I were offering them up to anyone who stood in front of me.

"I'll be taking you out in public today," Ms. Nomikou informed me as she reached between my legs and began to rub her fingertips over the delicate folds of my pubic lips. "Today is a very important day and most of the slaves will be making a public appearance."

My breathing became labored as Ms. Nomikou toyed with my swollen labia and I found it difficult to speak or even to concentrate on what she was saying. My breasts heaved up and down as my pussy throbbed and my breathing became ragged. I let out a frustrated moan and my head reeled. My body trembled with the effort of remaining still. And then I gasped

"Today is Adelfi Day," Ms. Nomikou explained. "Loosely translated into English, the Sklavian word "adelfi" refers to an activity when one female slave whips another female slave. Adelfi Day is a new tradition, it was established a mere five years ago, however it's already quite popular."

Erotic tingles spread across my naked body, and I shuddered, barely able to understand the words coming out of her mouth. She played with my pussy until I was moaning and trembling with sexual desire.

"Both the tourists and the locals get a thrill from watching one naked slave-girl whip another. Karen and I discussed it and decided that you should be one of the slaves who are whipped for the entertainment of the crowds. They're expecting you to be at the Public Stage today no later than 7:00 PM."

My heartbeat sped up triple-fast at the announcement that I was going to be whipped for no reason other than to entertain the prurient masses, however, Ms. Nomikou's fingers continued to stroke my swollen clitoris and made it difficult for me to concentrate on my fear of being whipped.

"It will be a grand spectacle," Ms. Nomikou assured me.

"Mistress, being whipped hurts terribly," I said as I fought my way through a haze of potent sexual arousal.

"Yes, I have picked up that impression," Ms. Nomikou replied as she continued to diligently finger my sex,

"But I haven't even done anything wrong," I protested. "Shouldn't an agonizing punishment like a whipping be reserved only for when I've been very bad?"

"Oh, Heather, you are so well behaved that it could take

years

before you do something bad enough to deserve a whipping! And we cannot wait that long. Adelfi Day is today, and your owner has already volunteered you to be whipped for the crowds!"

"Mistress," I said, attempting to make a cogent argument against me being whipped, but Ms. Nomikou's fingers were driving my libido into an incandescent heat, and I became so delirious with lust, it was almost impossible to think. I tried to talk, but my brain had a hard time forming the words I needed.

"I think that it's nice for a girl to be intensely aroused before she's whipped," Ms. Nomikou said. "All those endorphins flooding a girl's bloodstream, filling her with delicious sensations of lust and desire, they help to make the experience of being punished far more enjoyable."

I was lost in an erotic haze, and I only understood perhaps half of the words that came from Ms. Nomikou's mouth. The insistent throbbing in my sex and the agonizing waves of desire robbed me of my ability to focus and I simply gave up. I allowed myself to be led and controlled and taken away from the estate. I was thrust into a car and delivered to the authorities in town who prepared me for my public whipping.

_ _

Dozens of slaves were scheduled to be whipped for Adelfi Day and when I was brought in, I was escorted into a cage with perhaps thirty other naked females. Some of them were bound with ropes, others with handcuffs, still others with leather restraints, but all of us had our hands secured behind our backs.

As the morning progressed, more slaves were brought into the cage and crowding conditions forced us slaves to press our naked bodies against each other, I suspected that it was planned that way deliberately.

The slaves broke into social factions while we were locked up. The largest faction of slaves spoke fluent Sklavian. The second largest group spoke fluent English, and the smallest social group of slaves were gagged and were completely unable to communicate.

I was in the English-speaking group.

"I shouldn't even be here," a red-headed slave complained as her naked body brushed up against mine. "I haven't done anything wrong! I've been perfectly obedient and cooperative! I haven't done anything to deserve this!"

"None of us have," a cute brunette with taut abs and sexy muscles replied. "This is all part of some tradition. We're being whipped because Sklavian tradition demands that slaves be whipped on this date for the entertainment of the crowds."

"We get to suffer, the tourists get to enjoy our suffering," I added. "In a nation where slavery is legal, you end up with customs like this."

"Nobody told me about traditions and cruel customs like this when I signed my slave contract," the redhead complained. "I feel like I got tricked."

"You should have actually

read

the contract," said a woman with a posh British accent. "I thought it was quite clear that even perfectly obedient slaves can be subjected to cruel corporal punishments."

"I wish I had read the contract," the self-pitying redhead said. "But I didn't. And now, I'm screwed."

The redhead was prepared to continue bemoaning her fate and on impulse I silenced her by pushing my body into hers and kissing her on the lips. My mouth melded with hers, and she stopped talking as I hungrily kissed her and parted her lips with my tongue.

I didn't really think about what I did before I did it, but most slaves are starved for sex and physical affection. Rubbing my naked body against hers and kissing her passionately was enough to distract her from her fears and her regrets for a short while.

"

Mmmmmff,"

she moaned into my mouth as we kissed, and I enjoyed the sensations of physical intimacy with her as much as she did with me. Or at least I'm assuming that we both enjoyed it equally. Slaves are kept in a constant state of intense sexual need, so we'll be willing to have sex with anyone at any time.

I felt erotic tingles as I rubbed my breasts up against her naked body and probed her tongue with my mouth. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, but my arms were helplessly bound behind my back in that wicked single glove. Still, I got lost in the highly intimate experience of making out with the naked slave-girl while surrounded by dozens of other naked slaves, who doubtlessly watched with libidinous interest.

The redhead melted and returned my kisses passionately until the handlers unlocked the cage door and dragged me out for my public whipping.

There's a sense of crushing hopelessness every slave-girl deals with when she's about to be whipped. She feels that she would promise anything to escape the stinging agony of the whip, but she also knows that all the begging and pleading in the world won't save her.

The handlers who dragged me to my fate were tall and professional looking in tailored black and grey uniforms. They each had wicked-looking whips clipped to their utility belts, even though I was to be whipped by one of my fellow slaves.

A chain hung down from the arm of the gibbet and I was ordered to stand underneath the chain. It didn't take a great deal of insight to guess that my wrists would end up being bound to that chain and that my naked body would end up being suspended over the stage.

The handlers unlaced me from the single glove that had bound my arms so tightly together. I was grateful to have my arms free from that hateful glove, but then my wrists were joined in front of me, and lengths of rope were used to expertly tie my wrists together and make me helpless.

"Don't struggle," one of the handlers warned me and then she stood on a wooden chair. I was ordered to raise my arms above my head and then more ropes were used to secure the ropes around my wrists to the metal ring at the bottom of the chain. Once all the ropes were properly in place and tied tight, the handler hopped down from her chair.

"There, that should hold you," the handler assured me before smacking me cheerfully on the ass.

The other handler looked me up and down and said, "Maybe we should restrain her ankles. If her legs are free, she could twist and thrash around quite a bit."

The two handlers discussed the pros and cons of further restraints and eventually decided that I needed to have my ankles bound.

"Legs apart, pretty girl," one of the handlers said and then she secured a leather strap around my right ankle. Her partner secured an identical leather strap around my left ankle. They pulled my ankles further out to the sides and then used ropes to tie the leather ankle restraints to stainless steel rings that were embedded in the wooden surface of the stage.

I trembled and groaned as the utter helplessness of my situation dawned upon me. There was a strain in my shoulders and inner thigh muscles as the way they bound me had stretched my body extraordinarily taut. I was on the balls of my feet as my arms were raised so high and legs were spread so far apart my heels couldn't touch the ground.

"That's much better," the handler assured me before smacking me cheerfully on the ass once more.

I trembled in fear and trepidation and then I was introduced to the slave who was tasked with whipping me. Her name was Blake. The way she was oiled up, her naked body glistened, and all her sexy curves, dips and muscles were erotically on display.

Blake looked like an athlete. She was a tall brunette with a concave belly, a slender waist, taut buttocks and admirable muscle tone. She spoke English with an American accent and she tried to put me at my ease.

"Are you nervous?" she asked as the handlers stood back and took the single glove somewhere backstage.

"I'm bound, stretched wide open and about to be whipped in front of an audience of hundreds of sadists. Is there any way a girl in my shoes

could possibly be calm?"

"The whip stings, but the whip marks will fade," Blake quietly assured me. "And you're a very brave girl. You signed a slavery contract. Most of the people in the audience would never be brave enough to do that. You're a strong, gutsy woman and you are going to survive this."

The handlers who prepared me for my whipping either were offstage so they couldn't hear what Blake and I were saying. Questioning the bravery of the sadistic tourists and locals was the sort of thing that could earn a slave-girl additional punishment. I was relieved. I'd taken an instant liking to her and didn't want to see her abused. Her words had helped me to diminish my panic somewhat, however, the many men and women craning forward to get a good look at my naked body as I was helpless stirred up my emotions and forcefully reminded me of my status as a naked and lowly slave.

One of the handlers held up a whip and offered it to Blake. There were at least six strips of leather dangling from the handle, and I surmised that it was the sort of whip that could inflict an alarming amount of pain on a naked girl.

"I've been ordered to give you fifty lashes," Blake said and then she saw my eyes go wide with horror. Fifty lashes with an intimidating whip like that? I whimpered and felt all my courage drain away.

"You can take it," Blake assured me. "Slaves learn how to take the pain from harsh punishments and transform it into something else. You'll adapt. We all do. Trust me."

While I was bound helpless, Blake leaned in and ran her hands lightly up and down my breasts before taking possession of my nipples and rolling them between her thumbs and her index fingers.

"Blake, what are you doing?" I asked timorously as her ministrations caused a surge of delicious tingling sensations.

"Giving your body something on which to fixate other than pain," Blake replied, and then she stepped forward and pressed her naked body right up against mine, breast to breast. Her skin was warm, and her nipples stiffened as she rubbed herself against me. Then her mouth clamped over mine and she kissed me. The kiss was filled with libidinous passion, and I savored every second of it. When her tongue sought entrance to my mouth, I parted my lips and eagerly welcomed it.

"I intend for you to be feverish with desire before the whip starts to redden your skin," Blake explained when she broke from the kiss. "The sting of the whip will have to fight against the tide of sexual delirium. Wave after wave of desire will drown a lot of the pain out. Just you wait and see."

I wanted to argue with Blake, however, my head was reeling and my ability to form words had become greatly impaired. She returned to kissing me, and her kisses were somehow both delicate and passionate. Her tongue danced against mine and created a delicious surge of tingling sensations that began in my mouth and made their way all the way down to my loins.

My body was already alive with sexual electricity when she reached between my widespread thighs and rubbed her fingertips up and down the line of my sex. I felt my clitoris urgently throb and my whole body was consumed by a wave of libidinous heat.

"Aaaahhhh,"

I gasped as she thrust her fingers into my vagina and probed my moist interior. The sensations unleashed by her mischievous fingers flooded across my helplessly bound body as I felt a potent orgasm building inside of me. I was intensely stimulated, and my heart was racing. Blake kissed me again and I moaned into her mouth as my sexual heat climbed even higher. I squirmed as much as possible for a girl in tight bondage. It was darkly exciting to be so helpless as a stranger worked her fingers into my sex and forced an orgasm to blossom inside of me while hundreds of lecherous tourists watched.

My body strained against the leather straps that held me open and my whole body trembled. I gasped and grunted and felt as if I were being raped. I couldn't move and sweat began to form on my naked body as Blake's fingers speared my sex deep and drove me into a feverish state of sexual desperation.

My whole body ached with sexual need, and I felt deliciously helpless as Blake withdrew her fingers from my sex and left me trembling with unrequited lust. My head was reeling and when Blake touched me next, she grabbed my nipples and roughly pinched them. My nipples became extraordinarily hard in response to the abuse they were suffering and the pain of being tormented by Blake's strong fingers was mixed with an all-consuming sexual heat. I moaned and shook with my sense of vulnerability as Blake toyed with my naked body and then she reached between my legs again.

This time, instead of fingering my wet sex, she pinched shut my swollen labia, eliciting a whimper of erotic pain from my lips. My wet sex overflowed, and dripped fluids as Blake declared, "Now, you're ready to be whipped."

With hundreds of tourists focusing intently on my bound nudity, Blake picked up her whip and began to abuse my breasts with a series of hard slaps. The leather cracking across my soft flesh made a series of loud

THWACK! CRACK! SPLAT!

sounds.

My breasts seethed with stinging pain, and I struggled against the bounds that held me, but I was bound too securely to get free. All I managed was to do was strain my muscles and twist around in a way that delighted the crowds.

Blake concentrated her blows on one breast at a time, first my left breast, then my right, then my left again. My breasts burned and I swung my head so violently that my long hair went flying haphazardly. When my blonde hair was in such disarray that it covered much of my face, Blake set her whip down, gathered up my hair and worked it into a neat ponytail before she resumed whipping my breasts once more.

"

Aaaaahhhhh!"

I screamed in agony as my breasts were decorated with stinging red stripes. The crowds seemed to enjoy the sounds of my screams and roared with approval. The cruel blows across my innocent, round boobs came faster and faster. And every time I screamed, the prurient crowds responded with boisterous hoots and howls of delight. As I strained against my bonds, I managed to lift my feet completely off the floor of the stage for approximately half of a second.

The pain was excruciating however, I was forced to confront the reality of something that Blake had said. She had said that slaves learn how to take the pain from harsh punishments and transform it into something else. The whip still stung, but I began to derive a delicious thrill from the pain. I filled the air with my agonized screams, but I felt a dark, intoxicating thrill mixed in with my agony.

Blake was done whipping my breasts, but the crowd wanted more. "Your breasts are already quite red," Blake said over the sound of my sobbing, "but there are other parts of your naked body that haven't been marked up at all."

It took my brain a few moments to digest the significance of Blake's words. Then I felt her hand between my widespread legs, fingering my pink slit and working my pubic lips apart. I reflexively tried to close my legs shut, but the leather restraints on my ankles made that impossible. Blake played with my pussy, getting the swollen folds of my labia even more swollen and sensitive before whipping my innocent pudendum.

"Aaaaahhhhh!"

I screamed louder and louder as I strained against my bonds. The whip splatted wetly against my abused sex, my sexual juices staining the leather strands of the whip and splashing onto my thighs. It was undignified and humiliating, but I was a slave, and all my dignity was supposed to be stripped away, so punishing me in this way was ideal. The pain of the whip across my pink slit felt deliciously sweet and agonizing at the same time. And I moved my hips in a shameless, wanton fashion, almost as if the whip were my lover and I was urging the whip to thrust into my sex more forcefully.

My whipped sex throbbed with the most painful yet exquisite sensation. There was a sea of faces that watched as my vulnerable sex was painfully reddened. They delighted in my suffering, unaware that the white-hot pain I was experiencing had given birth to white-hot lust. I was gasping from libidinous desire as much as I was gasping from the stinging pain.

Then, much to my surprise, and to the delight of the crowds, Blake dropped to her knees, grabbed my buttocks and worked her tongue across my swollen, abused pubic lips.

"Aaahhh! Aaaahhhh! Aaaaahhhhh!"

I cried out as she spread the lips of my sex and she began to lap at my hypersensitive clit. I strained against my bonds and squealed as Blake's tongue heightened both my painful suffering and my feelings of orgasmic ecstasy.