Return to Sessia Ch. 02

Olivia didn't need to be told twice. She sat down on the bed and then with predatory quickness, she grabbed my arm and pulled me down onto her lap. The move was so quick and unexpected and forceful that I let out a yelp of surprise.

Suddenly was pelvis was resting across her lap, with my naked buttocks prominently displayed for Olivia's enjoyment. I had one hand on the floor and one hand gripping the side of the bed. My view was largely of the navy blue carpet beneath me.
"I just love her bottom," Olivia confided to Gretchen, as she fondled my naked buttocks with her questing hands. "It's so high and firm. And while her glutes are so firm and hard, the skin that's layered over top of the muscle is so smooth and soft."

Olivia's hands gently but firmly squeezed and stroked and caressed by buttocks. Then her fingers slowly and lovingly explored the furrow between my buttocks. Then I gasped involuntarily when she found my anus and began to stroke and rub it with her finger, gently at first, but then as I made involuntary whimpering and gasping sounds she used more and more force.

"I just love it when she makes sounds like that," Olivia explained.

"She has a phobia about being touched down there," Gretchen explained. "I'm really not sure why."

Suddenly Olivia's hand retreated and she said, "Oh, I'm sorry, dear. I didn't know."

Gretchen laughed again and said, "I didn't say you had to stop! She's a slave! When a slave has a phobia about something sexual, you don't tiptoe around it! You inflict on her over and over again!"

Suddenly Olivia's fingers returned, pushing against my sphincter muscle even harder. I groaned as she pushed her finger inside of me and wriggled it around.

"She's making such wonderful sounds, "Olivia gushed. "And I haven't even started spanking her yet.

"Oh yes, that reminds me," Gretchen responded. "Diane, what's the proper way to display your body when you're being spanked?"

I had totally forgotten. Gretchen likes for me to keep my thighs well apart during a spanking. With Olivia sitting on the edge of the bed like this it was hard to spread my thighs, but I spread them as far apart as I could under the circumstances.

Gretchen then explained to Olivia that it was very important for a slave-girl to keep her pubic lips on display whenever possible. This was especially important when a slave was being punished.

"It's one of the reasons that we keep her pussy shaved," Gretchen explained. "Slaves aren't allowed modesty. Slave-girls should always display their swollen pubic lips prominently. And if their pubic lips aren't swollen, that's a problem that needs to be corrected."

Without warning, Olivia's hand dipped between my thighs and she slid her fingers across my sensitive swollen labia. Not just for a quick grope either. She traced her fingers from top to bottom, across every inch of my vaginal lips, almost as if she were planning on drawing a picture of it later and wanted to memorize every detail. She even traced slow, lazy circles around my clitoris with her finger and eventually slipped two fingers deep inside of me. I let out a long and agonizing moan as she stimulated my lust but refused to bring me to climax.

"They're swollen alright," Olivia confirmed, "and slick with her own juices."

"That's normal for a slave-girl," Gretchen confided Olivia. "Slaves that aren't constantly displaying themselves to be in a state of lust get punished, although Diane has never had a problem in that department. She has a natural affinity for this aspect of slave life. When they forced her to strip at the airport her pussy was so wet I could spot it from over thirty feet away."

"She must have been dripping like a faucet for you to be able to notice from that distance."

"Diane loves to be abused and humiliated and displayed naked in front of strangers; so yes; strip her clothes off and much of the time her pussy isdripping like a faucet."

Gretchen and Olivia continued to talk about my pussy while Olivia fondled my pubic lips. I thought that they might chat about my pussy for hours, but then Gretchen brought Olivia a warm washcloth to wipe my juices off of her hands and suddenly Olivia's hands were all about spanking my naked buttocks.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Olivia's initial spanks weren't very hard, but Gretchen (beingeverso helpful) explained that I had a rather high tolerance for pain and that Olivia could smack my assmuchharder than she was currently doing.

Olivia took instruction well, and her next blows stung as she laid into my ass with a lot more force.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

"Better?"Olivia asked.

"That's much better," Gretchen conceded. "That's about how hard I spank her, when she's over my lap.

"I'm leaving some reddish handprints on her bottom," Olivia observed. "Is that okay?"

"She's somewhat pale, so reddish marks from a spanking show up on her skin more readily than they would on a darker girl's skin. This is normal. Just continue spanking her the same way as before."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!!

"That's good," Gretchen said, praising Olivia's technique, but try not to concentrate on just one area. There's the left buttock and the right buttock. You've got that down, but there are also the backs of the thighs and that crease where the tops of the thighs meet the bottom of the buttocks. You've got a lot of targets to choose from, so spread the blows around."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Olivia was a good student, and armed with Gretchen's advice, she was soon making my thighs and my ass a stinging red color and causing me to make pathetic whimpering sounds.

"I can see why you enjoy this so much," Olivia confided to Gretchen. "It's really sexy the way she flinches and writhes when she's hit. "And that sexy whimpering sound.....I didn't even know she made that sound. Watching the security feed in my office you just get video. You don't get any audio."

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Much to Olivia's delight I continued to squirm and make shuddering gasps of indrawn breath as she abused my poor, vulnerable, naked thighs and buttocks with blow after stinging blow. It had become a struggle to maintain the position that Gretchen had ordered me to hold. Olivia's blow stung so much, my body was overcome with pain and my hands curled into fists and I whimpered and violently shook my head and gasped and kicked my legs in response to the pain, yet somehow managed to keep my thighs apart.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!SMACK!

Eventually my whimpers and gasps turned to mindless sobbing and that's when Olivia finally stopped spanking my poor, abused, stinging bottom.

Olivia pushed me off of her lap and I collapsed, crashing clumsily to the floor. I don't know how long I remained there on the floor, a pathetic, naked, sobbing heap, but when I looked up, Olivia had removed her shoes and her tweed pants and had just slipped out of her panties.

Towering over my sobbing, naked form was Olivia's vulva covered with silky pubic hair and an eager swollen clit right up front, just begging for attention.

Without saying a word, Olivia looked down at me with an impatient look. Apparently I was supposed to know that she liked to have her pussy eaten immediately after she punished a slave to the point where she was sobbing on the floor.

I kneeled up and placed one hand on her thigh and the other hand on her sharp hipbone and began to lick at her slick, salty, pink pubic lips and listened to her moan. Even in throbbing pain, I still have a great talent for eating pussy and I soon had Olivia's juices all over my chin.

She didn't come instantly of course. Even the most sexually aroused of women usually take a little time and effort to get off. I licked and licked and kissed and eventually coaxed her clit out of its hood. Olivia moaned louder at that point and soon I had her clit in my mouth and I sucked on it for all it was worth. Olivia rewarded me for my efforts by jabbing her pelvis forward again and again in sharp, energetic thrusts as I brought her to a screaming, gasping, enthusiastic orgasm.

For a long time I knelt at Olivia's feet while she gasped and caught her breath. When she finally recovered from her powerful orgasm, she scooped me up in her arms and stood me up and allowed me to cry on her shoulder.

Olivia was very confusing and difficult to understand. One second she was mercilessly spanking my poor ass until it was red-hot and stinging and the next second she was hugging me and patiently waiting for my sobbing to subside.

Although as confusing as Olivia was, I've met women like her before. They'll spank you or whip you until your skin is welted and raw, but then they'll hold you in their arms and kiss you and tell you that they love you. It's confusing.

Then again, I'm a feminist who enjoys being stripped naked in front of dozens of strangers and spanked and fondled, so I suppose it's not easy to understand my idiosyncrasies either.

When I was done sobbing, Olivia ordered me to help her get dressed. It was easy, although I had felt a stronger bond to her when she was naked from the waist down. Once she was fully dressed she once again seemed to be far more authoritative and superior to me.

Then she patted me affectionately on the butt and informed me that there was a reporter in room 211 that was waiting to interview me. Actually she wanted to interview both Gretchen and I, but she wanted to see us separately and she wanted to see me first.

"Do I have to go alone?" I asked.

"It seems that every time Gretchen and I get separated, something bad happens to me."

"Can you take her to see the reporter?" Gretchen asked Olivia. "I've got to talk to Victoria and set up some sort of ground rules so that she doesn't spring any more surprises on me."

"It's best if I'm not seen alone with her," Olivia explained. "I have a reputation to uphold. But I'll get somebody from hotel security to escort her to the reporter and return her safely to her room."

Olivia made a phone call and soon a tall, lean, athletic-looking, impressive, female security guard with a stern, authoritarian demeanor arrived at the door to Gretchen's room. Olivia explained to the guard that she was to escort me to the reporter's room and wait for the reporter to finish interviewing me. After the interview was over, she was to escort me back to Gretchen's hotel room. I wasn't to speak to anyone else in the hotel and I wasn't allowed to make any stops anywhere else in the hotel. And if I was difficult or disobedient, the guard had permission to restrain me with physical force.

The security guard glared at me with cold, accusatory eyes and asked, "Why don't I just cuff her? You'd be amazed at how much more cooperative people get when their wrists are trapped behind their back in stainless steel."

Olivia seemed to consider this for a few seconds and then responded, "Use your own best judgment. If you think the handcuffs are a good idea, go ahead and use them,"

Apparently the security guard thought they were a good idea. Soon I found myself naked and handcuffed with a strong grip on my right arm as the security guard led me down the hall to the appointed location.

Out in the corridor, hotel guests and photojournalists and cameramen were staring at my bare butt while the security guard kept a tight grip on my arm and dragged me along like a political prisoner of something.