Enslaved in Europe Ch. 04

I don't know how long I knelt in that position, however I was correct in my assumption that it was a difficult position to hold. Long before Gretchen gave me permission to get up, my inner thigh muscles started to get sore from being held so wide open for so long. Also my neck and shoulders were getting stiff from holding my head up and elbows back for so long.

I was all alone in the room, but the door was open and Gretchen could have come back at any moment. I didn't want to disappoint her, so I held the position despite the fact that keeping my body held this way had gone from uncomfortable to truly painful.

By the time Gretchen came back into the room there were tears on my face and sweat had begun to form on my brow and underarms. There was also warm, sticky fluid on my thighs that had leaked out from my swollen pubic lips.

"You can get up now," Gretchen informed me. Her tone was so polite and so pleasant that it seemed out of place. She had left me naked and exposed and forced me to hold a position that was very difficult and humiliating. Yet her tone of voice implied that none of this was cruel or unusual.

My thighs ached as I moved to stand. They were sore from holding that position for so long, but I knew that would soon pass.

"You have no idea how gorgeous you are right now," Gretchen said as she held my face in her hands.

"What?" I asked. The compliment sounded out of place after the harsh way she'd been treating me.

"The streaks of tears on your face, your blush of embarrassment and the obvious signs of sexual arousal .... Darling, you've never been more beautiful than you are right now."

"Really?" I asked.

"Submissiveness becomes you," Gretchen said as she placed a tender kiss on my forehead. "It's a shame that it has to end after a week."

"This is going to be a very difficult week for me," I said softly. "I'll be happy when it's over."

"Will you?" she asked. Then she reached for my breasts and rubbed my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. I flinched slightly. My nipples were so swollen that they ached and were sensitive even to a gentle touch.

"Your nipples are hard as bullets, Diane," she said as she rubbed harder. "Do you seriously want to tell me you're not aroused?"

I closed my eyes and my breath came in short, heavy pants and I tried to speak, but my throat seemed to be swollen and I couldn't get my vocal cords to work. Then I felt one of Gretchen's hands let go of a nipple and suddenly felt her hand at my cunt.

I moaned as one of her fingers entered inside me and her thumb slid gently across my clit. "You're soaking wet," Gretchen informed me, "and your clit is so swollen it's practically abnormal. All this before I even laid a finger on you. You really expect me to believe that you don't enjoy being a slave?"

"I love it," I said softly in a helpless, breathy tone of voice, "but I hate it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gretchen asked as she continued to finger me and play with one nipple.

Gretchen's fingers were driving me crazy and I had trouble getting my mouth to form words, but I did the best I could. "I feel nervous, overwhelmed, humiliated, degraded, excited and aroused all at once. I feel more alive than I ever have in my life, but I also feel scared and vulnerable. A part of my brain wants me to run and escape and another part of my brain wants me to open my legs wider and invite people to touch me."

I opened my eyes and looked to see how Gretchen would react to my answer. I was still confused about my own reactions to my slavery, so explaining them to somebody else was difficult. I was hoping that I had at least made my predicament at least slightly easier for her to understand.

"This is interesting and we'll talk about this more, later," she said as she continued to finger me and play with my nipple, "but right now I'm taking you to dinner. We'll be dining with a couple of people I met today, so no talk about your adjustment to slavery during dinner. This is something personal I want to keep between us. Okay?"

I was so turned on by what Gretchen's fingers were doing to me that I could barely focus on her words. However I managed well enough to pick out a few key words and nod my head in agreement.

Suddenly I felt sharp pain in both my nipple and my swollen labia. Gretchen had pinched them both quite hard. "When a slave is asked a question, she is expected to give a verbal response," Gretchen snapped. "Simply nodding your head is not acceptable."

"Sorry Mistress," I yelped and fought the strong impulse to try and push Gretchen's hands away. It was a major effort at self restraint, but I kept them at my sides. "No talk about this with anybody but you, Mistress!"

Gretchen released her hands from my nipple and my pussy. I reached one hand up to my sore nipple and another to my red pubic lips to try and sooth the pain away, however Gretchen grabbed my wrists and pulled them back. "Also you're not allowed to touch yourself without my permission! If you want to do so much as scratch an itch, you need to ask my permission first."

This was a new level of domination that I wasn't expecting from her. I was tempted to say that it was unfair, but the unfairness of it actually excited me. Instead of complaining I replied, "Yes Mistress. May I use my hands to ease the pain of being pinched, Mistress?"

"No, you may not," she replied, and with that she led me out of our hotel room and straight to the elevator.

*****

The hostess at the restaurant looked me up and down and gave me a look that made me blush. Most people at the hotel looked at me with varying degrees of lust. However this one gave me a look of disdain and contempt. She disapproved of me for some reason. I could have been the fact that I was running around naked in public, or the fact that I was a lesbian or perhaps she just thought slavery should be outlawed in her country. Whatever the reason, she gave me a look that made me want to crawl underneath the floor and hide.

"Your table will be ready in a few minutes," she said in a voice that was so cold it would have turned water to ice. "Please wait here."

Gretchen's guests arrived before our table was ready. One of them was the young married woman who had taken several pictures of me in the hotel lobby. The other was the one who said she would ask my mistress for permission to have sex with me.

Gretchen gave them both a warm greeting. I learned that their names were Donna and Geneva. "Geneva, where's your husband?" Gretchen asked.

"An investment opportunity came up," Geneva responded. "He's on the phone with his partners and his accountant, trying to buy some piece of real estate cheap in the expectation that he can sell it for a quick profit. He said he had to move on it fast, before anybody else got it."

"Will he be joining us later?" Gretchen asked. I was hoping he wouldn't. As bad as it is for me to expose my naked body to total strangers, it was worse when men ogled my body. Having a strange woman look at my nudity with lust in her eyes is still embarrassing, but somehow men getting a look at me exposed and vulnerable and naked was much worse.

Much to my relief, Geneva's husband never arrived. Apparently he was obsessed with making money and often spent hours on the phone, trying to close a deal. When we were finally seated Geneva explained to us that her marriage was less about love and more about convenience. Don was very successful and provided Geneva with financial security and a high standard of living. Geneva was very attractive and provided Don with a trophy wife that he could proudly display to clients, business partners and investors. It was a symbiotic relationship, but there was no romance.

We discussed Geneva's marriage in great detail. We also discussed the political and cultural situation in Sessia. Donna was of Italian decent and informed us that her people are treated as second class citizens in Sessia. Once upon a time the island of Sessia was part of Italy, however Sessia was sparsely populated and economically depressed. There was no manufacturing and tourists almost never traveled there. Then in 1980 British investors bought the island of Sessia from the Italian government. The British investors started up new businesses, opened hotels and hired tens of thousands of employees. They opened Sessian banks similar to the Swiss banks that helped wealthy Americans hide assets and they invested billions of dollars into infrastructure and the tourism industry. As a result, Sessia rakes in almost as much money in tourism as the South of France.

"So now," Donna complained, "we've had a huge influx of immigrants from England. Sessians with a British accent or British ancestry usually get the best jobs and live in the best neighborhoods. Most government jobs go to people of British ancestry and our legislature is filled with people who were born in England. They make up less than forty-two percent of the Sessian population, but they have ninety percent of the seats in the legislature."

The conversation went back and forth on a number of different topics, however I was stunned that the subject of my enslavement to Gretchen never came up. Here I was; a naked girl sitting at a table with three fully clothed women; and neither my nudity nor my submissive status was ever discussed.

Despite my nudity, I began to feel more and more relaxed. There may have been a premeditated plan on the part of these three women to make me forget my status. The reason I say this is that at one point during the conversation, I turned to Gretchen and referred to her by her actual name.

"What did you call me?" Gretchen asked as she raised an eyebrow at me.

It took me a few seconds to realize what I had done and then I tried to backtrack. "Mistress," I said. "I meant to call you 'Mistress'. I'm sorry."

"Too late," Gretchen said. "I've been looking for an excuse to take you to the punishment parks. That little breach of the rules is good enough. We can go there tomorrow."

I sat there with my jaw wide open, at a loss for words but Gretchen pretended not to notice. She and Donna continued to chat like old friends and my look of shock was ignored.

I was afraid to go to the punishment park and I considered arguing that a slip of the tongue like that was too minor an infraction to warrant punishment anyway. However a part of me was excited at the thought. Since I'd been a teenager I'd had fantasies about being tied to an old fashioned whipping post and having my clothes ripped off so that I could be punished in front of a cheering crowd. Would this be anything like that? It was scary, but it was also exciting. And there really wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Even in America, Gretchen was a powerful force to be reckoned with. However here in Sessia, she had the law on her side. If I put up too much of a fuss, she could have me dragged to the punishment park by force.

Just the thought of being forced against my will sent a new flash of sexual heat through me. Should I resist? What would it be like to have rough hands grab me and force me naked through the streets to my eventual punishment? Rough hands on my naked body, twisting my arm behind my back or dragging me by my hair would add an erotic and brutal twist to what was already a very erotic and masochistic adventure.

I entertained thoughts of being dragged naked through the streets by female security guards who roughly handled me while hundreds of interested onlookers watched or took pictures. By the time dinner was over I was secreting juices again. I was glad I was sitting down at this table. If I were standing, anybody would have been able to see the moisture between my swollen labia.

Eventually Gretchen paid the bill and we all got up to leave. Donna stared directly at my crotch and smirked when she saw how wet I was. She didn't say anything, but my face felt hot and I'm certain I was blushing.

We left the hotel restaurant and Gretchen and Donna each took one of my arms and led me across the hotel lobby. Rather than head towards the elevators, they dragged me in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" I asked, feeling nervous. Gretchen, Donna and Geneva all knew where we were going. They'd obviously planned something and kept it a secret from me all through dinner. My mind screamed that it had to be bad. If they weren't willing to tell me about it, it had to be something pretty horrible.

I thought about struggling, but it would be three against one. And if hotel security got involved it could become four or five against one. "Where are we going?" I asked again, but still none of the women would answer me.

I was led out of the lobby and down a hallway. Geneva walked ahead of the rest of us and opened up double doors that led into another room. I was now so nervous that I was digging my bare feet into the carpet, however that didn't help. Gretchen and Donna simply tightened their grip on my arms and dragged me across the floor. I received rug burns on my knees and thighs as I was dragged and quickly tried to stand up again.

Geneva closed the doors behind us after I was inside and then I got a good look at where I'd been taken. It was a large room with no windows and only one exit. The floor was carpeted and there were half a dozen tables with chairs positioned around all of them. There was a large white board on the wall at the far end of the room with a schedule written on it for meetings that would take place tomorrow. Apparently this was used as a conference room by the hotel. In addition to the furnishings, I took note of the people in the room. First I noticed two of the hotel security guards and the hotel manager. The assistant manager was sitting at a table near the exit and there were also three other women there that I didn't recognize.

"Miss Schlank," one of the security guards said in a loud and authoritative tone of voice, "your owner has requested that the hotel assist her in punishing you for your transgression at the O.S.I. offices earlier today. I think you know the transgression I'm talking about."

During dinner I had completely forgotten about it, but now it suddenly came back to me. "When I kissed that other slave girl in the cells?" I asked sheepishly.

The security guard nodded her head and elaborated. "Your owner explained to me that you are not to have any sexual contact with any person without her permission. That includes kissing." I looked over at Gretchen who was still gripping my left arm tightly. Her look was stern and unforgiving.

Then the hotel manager spoke up. "It's a rather unusual request, but your owner asked if I could find any female members of the hotel staff who would be willing to witness your punishment or help administer it. I only had thirty minutes or so to get it all organized, but I was able to find five employees who were only too eager to help."

"Thank the nice people," said Gretchen as she whispered into my ear.

"What?" I whispered back.

"These people are all here for your benefit," Gretchen whispered. "Thank them or your punishment gets doubled."

I cleared my throat and struggled for the proper words. It was embarrassing enough to be punished in front of witnesses, however having to thank them for it made me feel even more degraded. "Th-Thank you for taking time from your busy schedules to c-come and witness my punishment. And thank you for the use of your conference room."

"You're quite welcome," the hotel manager replied. "If you would bend over one of these tables, we can get started."

I moved forward as Gretchen and Donna led me to one of the tables in the room. I placed both hands on the table top and bent over. "Spread your legs," Gretchen whispered in my ear. "And keep your knees straight."

With some difficulty I adjusted my position. Behind me, someone grabbed my hair by the back of the head and forced my head down until it was resting on the table. Bent over like this my ass was thrust high in the air and with my legs spread, my pussy and anus were both very much on display.

"May I?" I heard Geneva's voice ask from behind me.

"Go right ahead," I heard Gretchen's voice respond. I couldn't see Geneva from my position, but I soon heard a mechanical sound from behind me. It took me a few seconds, but I soon realized that it was the sound of a flash on a digital camera. I groaned as I realized that she was standing behind me and obviously taking pictures of my vulnerable ass and pussy.

When the sound of the flash stopped I heard a familiar female voice say, "Your owner noticed how much you disliked the body cavity search, so she decided that we should start your punishment with a repeat of that process."

I felt the woman's finger at the entrance to my cunt and flinched. To be penetrated while I was spread and helpless like this was too much like rape. I attempted to get up, but three strong pairs of hands held me down.

She's very wet, "I heard a woman's voice say as her fingers entered and probed inside me. "I'll make this part quick, Otherwise I think she'll climax in the next few seconds." I felt her fingers withdraw and I whimpered without even meaning to. I had actually been very close to achieving orgasm and felt cheated that she pulled her fingers out so quickly.

"I can spend longer on this next part," the woman said. I dreaded what was to come next and whimpered some more. First I felt a finger pushing against my anus. Instinctively I clenched it shut tight, but I could only do that for so long. Then I felt hands spreading my buttocks even further apart while cold liquid gel was dribbled between my asscheeks and down my pubic lips. I gasped at the coldness of it and then suddenly the finger was pressing up against my anus again.

"Miss Schlank, if I have to force my way in, it's going to hurt. You need to relax your sphincter muscle."

"I can't," I said through clenched teeth. "It's just too humiliating. I can't. Please don't."

That's as far as I got. Suddenly I felt the finger force it's way past the ring of my anus and sink inside of me as far as it would go. I gasped and writhed on the table, but I couldn't get up or dislodge the finger. Tears welled up in my eyes at the utter hopelessness of my situation. I felt the woman's finger wriggle around inside of me and then I heard Gretchen speak loud enough for the entire room to hear.

"As you can see, my slave has a strong phobia about her ass being penetrated. Therefore it only makes sense that anal penetration should be an important part of all of her punishments."

I whimpered and tears welled up in my eyes. One tear slowly slid down my face and then I heard Gretchen say, "See if you can't fit two fingers in there."

Before I could react to those words, I felt the finger slip out of my anus and then I was opened up wider as something larger and wider forced it's way into my asshole. It was hard to believe that they were only fingers, however after they'd been in there for a while I could feel them moving around. They bent and straightened as they tested the limits of how much they could move inside me.

"She's very tight," I heard the woman say. "I think two fingers is the most I'll be able to get into her."

"Try for three," was Gretchen's response.

Tears were now streaming down my face and I cried out in pain as I felt my anus being forced open even wider. I strained to get up off the table and raised up slightly, but then strong hands pushed me back down. The fingers never stopped pushing at my exposed anus, but in the end they never got very far.

"I can't get them in past the first knuckle," the security guard said. "She's just too tight."

I whimpered as she stretched the ring of my anus open wider and wider. My tight hole had never been stretched like this before and the pain was almost unbearable. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, I heard Gretchen say, "Okay, that's enough."