Enslaved in Europe Ch. 04

The fingers were withdrawn, and although I still felt vulnerable and helpless, I was at least grateful that I was no longer being stretched or violated back there. However my relief was short lived, as Gretchen leaned down and whispered, "That was just a warm-up. Your real punishment begins now."

There was the muffled sound of footsteps on carpet and I sensed that people behind me were changing positions. I tried to stand up or look over my shoulder, but the women holding me simply pushed me down harder. Suddenly my breasts were squashed flat underneath me and the side of my face was pressed down hard against the table.

"According to the security camera at the OSI," I heard a female voice say, "this naughty girl was kissing the other slave for fifty seconds. Therefore her punishment is a spanking of fifty swats."

Back in America, Gretchen had spanked me many times, however such spankings were always foreplay before sex. And they were usually between twenty and forty swats. Forty was painful enough. I knew I didn't want to endure fifty.

The first swat landed on my upper thigh, just below the left buttock. It was a sensitive spot and the woman swung her hand harder than Gretchen ever did. I cried out in surprise and pain.

I didn't have time to get used to the sting, as the second blow landed just as hard on my right thigh. Then the third blow landed higher up and more centered, striking both cheeks at once.

Soon I was crying out in pain as tears welled up in my eyes and I wriggled my hips in a shameful manner as I tried to dodge the blows to my upturned buttocks. I heard a voice screaming, "Stop! Please stop!" for several seconds before I even realized it was mine.

The spanking stopped briefly and I actually thought my begging might have convinced my tormenter to have mercy. However my punishment wasn't over. There was merely a brief intermission so that I could be mocked. While I lay there bent over the table, I felt somebody reach in between my legs and grab my clit. First it was squeezed then rubbed between thumb and forefinger. Even though I couldn't see my clit or the hand that was teasing it, I could tell that my clit was swollen and erect.

"I don't think you want us to stop," the female voice said from behind me. "I think you're enjoying this. You're so wet that juices are running down your leg and your clit is swollen."

I whimpered at this and felt the felt my clit grow even larger under the attention of those fingers. I stopped struggling and felt tingles run all up and down my body as those fingers brought me closer and closer to orgasm. My breath came in short pants and then I heard the voice behind me say, "If you can make the swelling in your clit go down, I'll believe that you really want this punishment to be over. If you can do that I'll stop."

I whimpered at this announcement. I was right on the verge of the biggest orgasm of my life, and she wanted me to make my clit go soft? Was she insane?

I would feel the feather light touch of a thumb or finger ever few seconds. It was enough to keep my excited, but not enough to push me over the edge to orgasm. I whimpered and sobbed at how unfair it all was. I would have given anything for sexual relief, but she just teased me enough to keep me sexually frustrated. She always backed off before I could achieve orgasm.

"Just as I thought," the woman said. "You're enjoying this too much to want it to stop."

I opened my mouth to protest, but suddenly the spanking had started again. If anything the swats were now coming harder and faster. I could feel the swats coming down on my buttocks and the backs of my thighs. Even though I couldn't see the actually punishment, I was certain my skin was turning an angry red color. I'd never been spanked like this in my life and I lost all dignity and self respect. I screamed until my throat was raw and I cried so much that I couldn't see for all the tears in my eyes. I continued to wriggle and bounce my hips in an obscene manner and I didn't even care how undignified I looked. The pain was the center of my universe, and I didn't care about anything else.

Finally the punishment stopped and the arms that held me down loosened their grips. Even after they let me go I didn't bother to get up. I simply remained there sobbing, chest heaving and tears running down my face. I was vaguely aware that one or two people were taking pictures of me, but I didn't care. My ass felt blistered and red hot and I didn't care how humiliated, exposed or degraded I looked in these pictures. The pain way my entire world.

I wanted to reach back and try to sooth some of the hurt in my freshly spanked bottom, but I remembered Gretchen's orders. I wasn't allowed to tough myself without her permission. And it took several minutes of crying before I could trust my voice enough to form words.

"Mistress m-may I touch m-my bottom, please?"

"No, you may not," came her curt, no-nonsense answer. "You will leave your hands where they are and you will remain bent over the table with you legs far apart."

"Yes Mistress," I said as I choked back sobs. I eventually realized that more photos were being taken of me. Several of the women in the room now had cameras and they were all busy snapping photos of me. "Turn your face this way," Geneva said, and I lifted my head enough that she could get a good picture of my tear streaked face.

"That expression on her face is just so perfect," she said with obvious admiration in her voice. "She looks so vulnerable and so scared and so helpless ... she's adorable!"

My red ass and my miserable face were the two most popular targets of their cameras. They continued to take photos until I stopped sobbing. When the tears stopped the cameras were put away. Was this a new fetish I'd never heard of? Naked women crying?

One of the security guards pulled my hair and lifted my head up until I was standing. Even after I was standing she kept a tight grip on my hair and I stood on tiptoe and raised my chin to keep from having my long, blonde hair from being yanked from my scalp.

"We have a new rule," Gretchen announced in pleasant tone of voice, more suited for a grade school teacher than a mistress lecturing her naked slave, "after every punishment you must thank all of those who assisted in your punishment. Also, in memorandum of the girl that you kissed without permission, you'll be required to kiss each person who aided in your punishment."

Gretchen then took several steps toward me and then held my face in her hands. "Thank me," she ordered.

"Thank you, Mistress," I said and I attempted to wrap my arms around her as her lips drew close to mine.

"Hands at your sides," she ordered.

I lowered my hands and held them at my sides as Gretchen kissed me and forced her tongue into my mouth. This was a new and unexpected addition to ways that control would be taken from me. She could touch me, but I couldn't touch her.

When she broke the kiss, she took a step back and said, "you have no idea how beautiful you are right now."

I just stood there and panted, feeling the pain as my hair was pulled and my red ass still throbbed from a stinging spanking. I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and my nipples and clit were so swollen they all ached. My calves were straining because I had to stand on my toes and I was denied even the permission to touch myself or my girlfriend. I was feeling so sorry for myself I almost forgot to say, "thank you, Mistress."

Gretchen took out her camera and took several more pictures on me in that helpless state, and then Donna was the next one to extract a kiss from me. "Thank you, Donna," I said softly and suddenly her lips were on mine. She took her time, kissing me softly at first and then with more passion. Her tongue slid into my mouth and found mine. Our tongues slid across each other as her hands moved across the skin of my shoulders and back. Then I whimpered in pain as she gently cupped my buttocks.

"Tender?" Donna asked as she broke the kiss.

"Yes," I said with obvious pain in my voice, at which point she squeezed my left buttock hard, causing me to squeal in pain. I tried to jump away from her hand, but the way my hair was being held above my head made that impossible.

Next was the hotel manager. She was the oldest woman in the room and kissing her felt more humiliating than kissing the younger women. She was almost old enough to be my mother and she was dressed in the sort of conservative clothing that my mother favored. In some ways this felt like incest.

Her kiss was shorter and less passionate than the first two, but I still felt like a little bit of control and self-respect had been taken away from me.

Some of the women left the room after kissing me. Others remained and watched the show with rapt interest. One of the last people to kiss me was a dark-haired girl who stood about two inches shorter than me and was very thin with almost no breasts at all. Under ordinary circumstances I would have found her unimpressive and probably ignored her, however under the circumstances I had no choice but to give her my full attention.

"I'm the one who spanked you," she said as she gently but firmly held my jaw in her right hand.

"Thank you," I said and my hair was released so that I could lower my face down to this girl's level. "My name is Gemma," she said, still holding my face. "Say my name and thank me."

"Thank you for spanking me, Gemma," I said softly. My ass was on fire. The last thing I wanted to do was thank this girl for the state of pain I was in, but I had no choice. As a slave I wasn't allowed to make decisions, only follow orders.

"I'll do it again if I get the chance," Gemma informed me. "Spanking you is the most fun I've had in months."

Gemma gently chewed on my lower lip before kissing me. Then she proceeded to kiss me slowly and with great tenderness. I had a hard time believing that this woman with the soft lips and tender kisses was the same woman who rained down such a painful punishment on my ass.

"Please be a bad girl," she said after she was done kissing me. "I want a chance to punish you again."

The look in her eyes confused me. It was the same look of adoration that Gretchen gave me in our more romantic moments. However this girl had just minutes earlier spanked my ass so hard that I wouldn't be able to sit down for a week. How could she assault my helpless, naked skin with such fury and then look at me with such adoration?

When every woman in the room had had her turn with me, Gretchen stood in front of and held my face in her hands. "You naughty little girl," she began, "when you were younger and your mother used to spank you, was that the end of it or did she make you stand in the corner and display your red ass for everyone to see?"

Gretchen already knew the answer to this, we'd discussed my childhood punishments many times. "My mother would make me stand in the corner ... Mistress. She wanted to humiliate me in front of my sister and anybody else who was in the house at the time."

"Your mother was a very sensible woman," Gretchen said, sounding businesslike and authoritative. "I think we should follow her example."

Still holding my face in her hands, Gretchen looked to the security guard who was holding my hair and asked, "Can you find a corner for my slave to stand in? Or at least someplace public, so that a large number of people will see her red ass?"

"I have an ideal spot in mind," the security guard said. "She'll have plenty of witnesses." Then she yanked hair on my long hair and led me out of the room.

"Don't dawdle," the security guard cautioned me as she led me down the hallway by my hair. "If you're too slow, I'll have to drag you." The security guard had yanked my head down to shoulder height, so I no had to walk bent over. This added to my humiliation as it made my naked ass stick out more and I'm certain everybody in the hotel was much more aware of how red my ass was. Also I wasn't used to walking in this awkward position and the security guard was walking at a very brisk pace, making it hard to keep up.

Finally I was led into the hotel lobby and over to a wall where I was instructed to stand. "Place your hands on the wall in front of you," she said in her stern, no nonsense voice, "Palms flat, shoulder height, look directly ahead, spread your legs wide and keep your knees straight, bend at the waist so that your ass sticks out."

I followed her commands as best I could, but she wasn't satisfied, so she used her hands on my thighs, waist and back to position myself to her satisfaction. Her hands were very strong and I felt utterly dominated by her. Naked, afraid, humiliated and on display for total strangers, I felt a strange feeling come over me. I felt an urge for those strong hands to grab me and pinch me and to make me do things that were difficult and degrading. I wanted those hands to make me feel owned.

I was so caught up in this new feeling that I didn't here Gretchen walk up behind me. "You chose a good spot," I hear Gretchen say.

"Yes ma'am," I heard the security guard respond. "To her right is the check in counter, to her left is an ATM. And on the other side of the lobby, almost directly behind her is the main entrance."

When I was dragged in here I hadn't had a chance to get a good look at my location, but now that I had heard it described I could here a considerable amount of people nearby. I could hear women's high heels clicking on the tile floors as they walked across the lobby. I could hear sound of luggage on wheels as people dragged it along behind them. I could hear people both young and old as they spoke with hotel staff as checked in or asked requested taxi service or asked questions about the city.

Of course I was ordered to stare directly ahead, so I couldn't turn and see any of this, but I heard it all. My face flushed hot at the thought of so many people seeing me naked and on display with a freshly spanked ass. My mother never humiliated me in front of so many people. The worst she was ever able to do was when she spanked me in front of my sister and two of my friends and then made me stand in the corner. From the sounds I was hearing there had to be at least a dozen people in the hotel lobby and I was now on display for all of them!

"Diane," Gretchen said in a commanding tone, "Thank the security guard. It's the least you could do after she found you such an ideal spot.

"Th-Thank you, Mistress," I said with a throb in my voice.

"Lieutenant," the security guard corrected me. "I worked hard to get promoted. You will refer to me by my official title."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," I said.

"Don't forget," the security guard said sternly.

"If she forgets, I'll make certain she's punished for it," Gretchen said. Then on the heels of that she said, "I'm going upstairs now. In an hour I'll come back down and get her. She's not allowed to move from that spot and she's not allowed to speak unless somebody asks he a question."

"Yes ma'am," the security guard replied. "What if somebody wants to touch her?"

"Women can touch her, but not men," Gretchen said. "She's a lesbian slave and I don't want some male playing with her clit and giving her ideas. As for the women, only one at a time and nothing more than heavy petting. I don't want anybody masturbating her to an orgasm and I don't want anybody else spanking her tonight. I'm the one who owns her and I'm the only one who can authorize her punishments.

"Yes ma'am," the security guard said. "I'll take good care of her."

"See you in an hour, Diane," I heard Gretchen say behind me and then there was the sound of high heels clicking on marble tiles.

The hour went by slowly. In almost no time the muscles in my shoulders and inner thighs began to feel tired and ache. Also there was the humiliation of people who would walk up behind me and just stare. I couldn't see them, but I could hear their footsteps on the tile floor of the lobby stop just behind me. Sometimes I could hear the beep of a digital camera. Several times I heard the laughter of young girls standing behind me.

The ATM to my left almost always had a patron in front of it. I strongly suspected that many people were only using it as an excuse to get a better look at my naked flesh. At one point, two American girls at the ATM acted surprised to me and loudly commented on my punished buttocks.

"Oh, you poor girl!" One of them said. "Your ass is all red! What happened to you?"

My heart beat faster at having to explain my embarrassing situation, but I swallowed and tried to brave. "My owner gave me a spanking," I said.

"That's horrible," the young girl exclaimed, sounding sympathetic. "Harmony, don't you think her owner is just being mean?"

I could hear the sound of Harmony's voice as she worked the controls of the ATM. Her opinion was very different. "She must have done something to deserve a spanking."

"Is that true?" the sympathetic one asked.

I sighed and told her the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, the security guard was standing just a few feet away. "I kissed another slave girl. I kissed her and I didn't have permission, so I got a spanking."

The sympathetic girl gasped, but the other girl made a disgusted sound and said, "See? I told you she deserved it."

"Does that mean, like ... you're a lesbian?" the sympathetic girl asked.

"Yes, I'm a lesbian."

"Can we go now?" the unsympathetic girl asked. "This is my first night in a country where I don't need a fake ID to get served alcohol. I don't wanna spend it talking to a girl in a dog collar."

"Slave collar," I heard the security guard say. "She's wearing a slave collar. She can't remove it and it has the name and phone number of her owner on the tag."

"Whatever," the unsympathetic one said. "I'm gonna grab a cab and go to that club. Are you coming or what?"

"Can I catch up with you later?" the sympathetic one asked. "I've never met a real live lesbian before."

The unsympathetic girl made another noise of disgust and replied, "Whatever." I sounded to me as if she walked away, then the sympathetic one walked slowly closer. "Can I touch you?" she asked.

I could just barely see her in my peripheral vision. She looked young, with very innocent eyes and smooth skin. I was just about to answer her when the security guard answered for me.

"You can touch her, but don't do anything to cause her to break position. She's supposed to stand just like that for a whole hour."

"Oooooh," the girl exclaimed. "That doesn't sound easy. Don't your muscles get stiff?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"You poor thing," the girl said as she timidly touched my arm. Her touch was very gentle and shy. She was like a deer approaching a human, wide-eyed and ready to run at the least sign of danger.

"She won't break," I heard the security guard say.

"I just..." the girl began. "I've never touched a naked girl before. And she already got in trouble once when she kissed that other girl. I don't want to do something that'll get her into more trouble."

"You can touch her anywhere you want," the security guard said. "Just don't masturbate her to orgasm and don't spank her. She's been punished enough for one night."

The girl hesitated for a long time as she seemed to consider this. Finally she began to run her fingers through my long, blonde hair. I sighed as I treasured the gentle treatment. Then I felt her hands gently stroke my shoulders and back. Then she changed position and felt up my ribcage and abdomen.

"I like the way she feels," the girl said. "She's so smooth."

From the sound in her voice, this girl was infatuated. I've heard children on Christmas day speak with less awe and enthusiasm when confronted with a mountain of presents.

"Can I touch her where she's been spanked?" the girl asked. "I promise I'll be gentle."