Return to Sessia Ch. 10

When I was a free woman and walked down the streets wearing jeans, running shoes, a t-shirt and money in my pocket people never dared to stare at my breasts. It was considered socially unacceptable to stare at a woman as if she were a sex object.

However, now that I was naked, barefoot, bound with ropes, my bound arms forcing me to thrust my breasts forward and being led around on a leash, my status had changed and suddenly staring at my breasts and my pouty pubic lips was no longer taboo. It seemed as if the entire city was staring at my painfully erect nipples, my slick pubic lips and everything in between.

Teenage college girls, middle-aged housewives, Japanese tourists, British tourists, American tourists, Italian tourists, businessmen in suits, innocent-looking old ladies, taxi-cab drivers, police in the act of ticketing parked vehicles...they all stopped to stare and take in my nudity and my helplessness. Nobody was shy about staring. They just took it all in leisurely, not wanting to miss a single inch of my naked, slave-girl body.

With my arms tied behind me as they were, my shoulders were pinned back and my breasts were thrust forward, almost as if I were offering them up to anybody on the street. And the people on the street were most assuredly taking me up on that offer.

A female jogger almost ran past me, but then she stopped dead in her tracks and intently ogled my breasts. She had two breasts of her own, but she stared at mine as if she were fascinated by them.

"Stop," Gretchen commanded and yanked on my leash, causing me stop abruptly and make a sound of distress.

The female jogger was wearing earbuds in her ears. When Gretchen and I stopped in our tracks, the jogger pulled the earbuds out of her ears and then gave Gretchen a look.

Gretchen returned the look and then said, "Would you like to meet her?"

The jogger took a few hesitant steps forward and looked at Gretchen and me warily. It was one thing to stare at us, but direct interaction might involve some risk. The jogger looked to be about nineteen or twenty and she had a timid look on her face as if she frightened easily.

"I'm sorry," the jogger replied, stopping about ten feet away from us, "Meet who? What is it you're talking about?"

Her accent sounded British and put me in mind of cloistered aristocratic young ladies who've spent most of their lives isolated in aristocratic girls-only boarding schools.

"My slave-girl," Gretchen said taking a step forward and tugging on my leash, "I saw you staring and I thought you might like a closer look."

The girl took a few seconds to respond. She removed her iPhone from a tiny pocket, on a tiny belt around her waist and turned off her music. Then her gaze drifted back to me and she exclaimed, "You're that girl from the cover of Insider Magazine!"

I opened my mouth to answer, but Gretchen held up a hand, signaling that I should be quiet.

"Yes, her name is Diane," Gretchen said, "She's somewhat famous now. She's even been on television."

"She's very beautiful," the girl said. "Is she some sort of model?"

"She's a slavegirl," Gretchen replied, "She has a contact on file with the O.S.I. and everything."

The girl's eyebrows went up and then one of them went down as she stared intently at both Gretchen and myself.

"Not a real slave, surely," the girl replied. "I mean, this is the twenty-first century. We've freed all the slaves. We're civilized now."

Gretchen smirked at that and then tugged once again on my leash and said, "Diane, turn around. I want this girl to see your bottom."

The girl in the running shorts and sports bra had the manners to look embarrassed, however she stood there and politely watched as I obediently turned around and showed my naked bottom to her.

My bottom was still sore from the multiple spankings I'd heard earlier in the day. I could hear the girl behind me drawing her breath in sharply as she viewed the physical evidence of those spankings.

"Her bottom is all red," the girl exclaimed. "Did you really spank her? That looks really, really painful!"

"Oh, it was," Gretchen answered. "But Diane is a big girl. She can take it. And according to Sessian law, I'm entitled to punish my slave whenever I feel it's appropriate. As a slave, Diane has no say in the matter."

The girl was now enthralled. She crouched down and studied my poor, abused bottom and the backs of my thighs, her face just inches from my reddened flesh. I could actually feel the caress of her breath on my bare sin.

"This is really real," the girl said, fascinated, "you really did spank her."

"As I said, she's a slave."

"I didn't think you really did that," the girl said, still staring at my punished ass. She sounded hypnotized.

"We really do that," Gretchen confirmed. "There are millions of people in Europe, America, and Canada and well...all over, that get a sexual thrill out of being dominated, exposed and punished. The Sessian government just decided it would be wise to make some money off of that thrill."

Still sounding spellbound, the girl said, "Her pubic lips are all wet."

Gretchen laughed slightly at that and replied, "As I said, there are people who get a sexual thrill out of being dominated, exposed and punished. Haven't you ever seen the punishment parks?"

"I," the girl hesitated, "I've heard of them. I really have no idea what they are really."

Gretchen laughed again. "The Punishment Parks are were girls like Diane go when they've been naughty and need to be punished in front of a large audience. If you're interested, I'd be happy to take you there sometime."

"I can't today," the girl said. "I'm a university student. My parents will kill me if I miss any classes."

"Some other time then?"

The girl was hooked. She and Gretchen exchanged names and phone numbers (the girl's name turned out to be Jennifer) and then Jennifer took some photos of my naked bottom with her iPhone. You could tell by the sound of her voice that she was really looking forward to her first visit to the punishment park.

"Your slave is really, really gorgeous," she said with a rapt smile on her face. "Will I get to see you punish her?"

I groaned at that, but Gretchen assured Jennifer that she would definitely get to watch me helpless, naked and punished at the Punishment Park very soon.

I watched the girl jog away with a spring in her step. It was nice that we'd made her happy. Although the next time we met, I'd probably be sobbing in pain and have whip marks on my naked skin.

"Well, we're supposed to be spreading the popularity of Sessian slavery," Gretchen remarked. "I think we're succeeding. I also think that girl may have a crush on you."

I was pretty certain that Gretchen was right. The girl was actually very cute and as she ran off I couldn't help but admire the shape of her retreating ass, however I was also pretty certain that it was only a matter of time before she was wielding a whip or paddle or a belt or something and punishing my poor, naked skin.

"Well, let's go off and meet some more of your adoring public," Gretchen announced.

Thoughts of Jennifer soon fled from my mind as Gretchen tugged on my leash and led me down the street, past dozens of ogling pedestrians and finally to a bus-stop.

"I want you to make a good impression on these people, Slavegirl," Gretchen said to me as I was led naked and helpless to the bus-stop, "So be charming and obedient and do everything I tell you."

My heart beat doubly fast and I was filled with trepidation as I took in my audience. There was a middle-aged woman with long, dark hair. She looked to be in her late-thirties or early forties and favored us with an enthusiastic grin as we approached.

There were also two skinny boys of approximately nineteen years of age. They had that unfortunate look that teenage boys often had when they saw an attractive girl. Their look broadcast the fact that they were thrilled to see an attractive girl, but they were too awkward and immature to know how to impress her, or even flirt well. They probably couldn't even talk to an attractive girl without saying something stupid.

There was also a woman who looked to be about my age. She was even skinnier than the boys, but she didn't look anywhere near as awkward as they did. The look on her face didn't hold any of the awkwardness of youth. She just stood there and watched me approach with a jaded, unimpressed look like she saw naked women in public every day.

Actually, this is Sessia, so it was actually possible that she did see naked women in public every day. Hell, if she worked in the Punishment Parks, she might see a lot of naked women in public ever day!

"So, what have we here?" asked the middle-aged woman with great cheerfulness. "I've been taking the Fleming Avenue bus for years now and we've never had a naked girl ride with us before!"

"My name is Gretchen," my mistress said, "And this is my slave, Diane. I thought that it was high time that I took her out expose her to her public."

Then Gretchen pulled on my leash and said, "Come on Diane and let the nice lady inspect you."

I felt apprehensive about letting this woman inspect my naked body, but I walked over on shaky legs and tried to hold still for the middle-aged woman. She looked as if she might be old enough to be my own mother and something about that made me more nervous than being ogled by someone my own age.

The middle-aged woman looked nonplussed. Apparently naked girls weren't thrown at her every day by cruel mistresses.

"Well, that's awfully generous of you, Gretchen," the middle-aged woman said. "I see naked slaves around town sometimes...usually out near the Punishment Park, but nobody has ever offered to share their slave with me before."

Gretchen smiled at this and replied, "Well, it's not like I'm letting you take her home or anything. I'm just letting you examine her, sort of like you were inspecting her on the auction block-that sort of thing."

Just? Gretchen made it seem like an intimate examination of my naked flesh was a trivial thing! For a slave to submit her breasts, thighs, pubic lips and other parts of her naked anatomy to be examined by the demanding eyes and hands of a stranger was a traumatic ordeal for a slave-girl! My heat was already beating like a drum and felt flush with the heat of embarrassment as all four pedestrians at the bus-stop allowed their eyes to run all over my naked skin.

The middle-aged woman was filled with friendly banter and good humor. It was clear that she appreciated Gretchen's generous offer. "My name's Laurell by the way, and it's quite neighborly the way you're sharing your slave with a total stranger...even if it is just to give her the once over. Your girl looks like a supermodel, and at my age, naked supermodels just aren't a part of my life. It just doesn't happen...so I see your offer as right generous."

Then Laurell turned to me, her eyes all aglow and said, "Okay pretty girl, let's get a look at you!"

Laurell; much to my surprise; began her examination of me by placing her hands on my throat and feeling for my pulse just underneath my jawline.

"My, you're an excited little girl, aren't you?" she asked when she realized how my pulse was racing.

Next she placed a hand on my chest, around about where the ribcage met my right breast and checked to see how fast my heart was beating. Her examination seemed almost medical at first, but then she held both of my breasts in her hands, lifting them at first as if gently attempting to weigh them. Of course she soon moved on to fondling them, feeling every inch of them before rolling my nipples between her thumbs and index fingers.

The woman may have been old enough to be my mother, but she knew how to play with a girl's nipples in such a way to get an ideal reaction. I began to sigh as she stimulated all of the right nerve endings, and then the sighing evolved into soft moaning.

It was around that point that I noticed a Channel-4 news van across the street. While Laurell fondled my breasts and played with my nipples, the news team from Channel-4 recorded the entire thing.

"Oh, you're adorable, so you are," Laurell enthused as she played with my nipples, "It's a shame Gretchen won't let me take you home. But, I suppose I can still have some fun with you here at the bus-stop."

"Hey, give me a turn. I wanna cop a feel," said one of the teenage boys. My heart beat even faster at the thought of being fondled by those two boys, but Laurell snapped, "Bugger off Jeremy! She's not for the likes of you!"

"C'mon, Laurell," the obnoxious boy complained, "That girl is the best thing that's happened all month. Why you gotta hog her?"

"Because she's a black-collar slave," Gretchen snapped. "That means she's for girls only."

Laurell continued to play with my nipples and didn't even both to look at Jeremy, however she clarified, "White collars means hetero, black collars means gay or lesbian and grey collars means bisexual. And the law says that gay slaves have rights and can't be felt up by members of the opposite sex!"

I breathed a sigh of relief after Laurell said that. Slaves didn't have many rights, so we treasure the few we did have. And; of course; I was glad that Gretchen and Laurell were enforcing them.

Gretchen held on to my leash while Laurell fondled me. She ran her hands across my tight abs and my smooth thighs before finally asking if she could play with my pussy.

Gretchen's response was to order me to spread my legs apart. "Spread them wide, Slave-girl. I want Laurell to be able to have easy access to your pink paradise."

"Bloody hell," exclaimed Jeremy. I think he was feeling jealous and cheated that Laurell got this kind of access to my naked body and he couldn't lay a finger on me. All he could do was to watch and sulk.

I inhaled through clenched teeth and panted as Laurell played with my already throbbing pussy. She slid a finger gently down one of my pink, swollen pubic lips, smiling at my noticeable reaction, then gripping my labia tightly and pulling on it, stretching it away from my body. I was already sexually overstimulated before Laurell encountered us and now she seemed to be intent on playing with my wet, pulsing pussy and getting me even more excited.

I gasped and grunted as Laurell proceeded to pinch, caress, fondle, stroke and touch every inch of my swollen pubic lips. Then she slid two fingers inside of me, causing me to yelp in surprise and very nearly reach a humiliating orgasm right there on the street.

"Bloody hell," exclaimed Jeremy again and then Laurell removed her fingers from my throbbing pussy and held them up to my face.

She held her slick fingers up to my face, smiling at me, without saying a word. I was too dazed from the sexual tension and the powerful orgasm building inside of me to understand the significance of her actions. Was she mocking me? Was she making fun of how wet and libidinous I was?

"Diane," Gretchen said, tugging slightly on my leash, "open your mouth and suck your juices off Laurell's fingers."

Obediently, I did exactly as Gretchen ordered. I stood there at a public bus-stop, naked with my hands bound behind my back and sucked my pussy juices off of a stranger's fingers.

Has anyone ever been more submissive and humiliated than me?

"That's a good girl," Gretchen said, reassuringly.

"She's adorable," Laurell beamed as she pushed her fingers deep into my mouth, so that I could suck off every last drop of my juices. "I'm so glad you shared her with me. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity for a person like me to get an exquisite girl like this to take her clothes off for me."

"It doesn't really have to be," Gretchen said, and I got a feeling I knew where this was heading.

"I intend to bring Diane out and exhibit her in public locations a lot more often. This bus-stop was just the first of many appearances for her. Give me your phone number and you can help me plan a list of other locations where I can show her off."

Gretchen and Laurell exchanged information and Laurell was fast becoming close friends with Gretchen, but a bus pulled up to the bus-stop and Laurell regretfully admitted that she had to get on.

"I'll miss you, Pretty-girl," Laurell exclaimed and then she took my face in her hands and kissed me deeply and passionately. She may have been old enough to be my mother, but she kissed with the passion and the urgency of a nineteen-year old.

"Oh," I gasped when she finally allowed me to break from the kiss.

"Good bye, Gretchen! Good-bye, naked-girl," Laurell exclaimed through an open window on the bus. "I can't wait to see you both again!"

Jeremy and the other teenage boy also got on the bus. One of them pulled out his phone and used it to take my picture before the doors of the bus closed.

The skinny girl with the jaded look remained at the bus-stop. She looked at Gretchen and me and folded her arms over her non-existent chest.

"You're not going to get on the bus?" Gretchen asked.

"I can grab the next one," the girl said. "I'm not in any big hurry to get home, and besides I was really interested in what you said about exposing your girl to the public. I mean...I'm part of the public."

"You were so quiet back there," Gretchen said, "I didn't even think you were interested. Quite a lot of women aren't interested when I bring Diane out in public. Some of them even avert their eyes...straight women I suppose...for some of them, I think the sight of a nude woman makes them uncomfortable."

"Not me," the slender girl said, "I like seeing her naked. What I don't like is all the privileges she gets. She's on the cover of Insider Magazine. She's got a free membership to Sharp Fitness. I hear she's even gets free meals over at Raffinato's."

"You resent all of those privileges?" Gretchen asked.

"Nobody ever gives me privileges like that," the girl angrily exclaimed. I'd prance around naked in public to get privileges, but nobody wants to see my body!"

I looked the girl over. She actually had a very nice body. She had a flat, stomach, narrow waist and lean ropey muscle. She had a body like a ballet dancer or a figure skater. She wore a tight, white t-shirt and tight blue jeans that showed off her figure very nicely.

She would actually be a top candidate for sex-slavery if it weren't for her A-cup breasts that made her look very nearly flat-chested.

"So, you'd like to teach her a lesson?" Gretchen asked. "Make her learn some humility?"

There were now at least two vans parked across the street watching us, with reporters and camera crews. Gretchen knew they were there and I was guessing that this whole conversation with slender girl was for the benefit of the media. Whatever Gretchen could provoke this girl into doing to my naked body would almost certainly end up on television.

"Will you let me?" The skinny girl asked, almost as if she was challenging Gretchen. She had a chip on her shoulder for some reason and she was intent at holding a grudge against both Gretchen and I until she got what she wanted.

In answer, Gretchen tugged on my leash and pulled me closer to the irate girl. An anticipatory smile flashed across the girl's young face as she surmised what was going to happen next.

"Alright you spoiled brat," Gretchen said to me, "My new friend here is offended about how you've been flaunting your naked body, getting all the attention and being treated like you're something special. So. I'm going to let her punish you. So she can show you that you're no better than she is."

Gretchen then handed her end of the leash over to the skinny girl and said, "Okay, my friend, what's your name?"