Return to Sessia Ch. 11

From behind a hand insinuated itself between my legs and cupped my sex. Then it proceeded to vigorously rub my exposed pubic lips, getting my pussy to throb with even greater intensity. When I started to feel the beginnings of an orgasm, she removed her hand from my pussy and began to spank the tender flesh of my inner-thighs. "Aaaghhhh," I cried out each time she struck me. The woman really knew how to make my naked flesh sting.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! And even though I wasn't bound, I just stood there with my legs obscenely far apart and allowed this woman to continue with her punishing slaps against my sensitive inner-thighs.

This wicked woman was also called off from the stage, however it didn't mean the show was over. It just meant that it was Gretchen's turn to abuse me.

"On your hands and knees," Gretchen ordered as she came back on the stage, now holding a thong whip.

Obediently I got down on my hands and knees. I felt a delicious surge of fear as I eyed the whip and the audience in front of me now looked rapt.

"Legs far apart," Gretchen admonished, "Ass up in the air! Head down!"

Gretchen then proceeded to slice me across both cheeks of my bottom. The leather whip stung my taut cheeks, but I stifled a cry of pain. I had learned a great deal of self-discipline over the years and I was able to keep from crying out the second and third time the whip rained down on my unprotected ass as well.

My resolve weakened as Gretchen kept changing her tactics. First she hit me across both cheeks at once, then she alternated between the left and the right, then she aimed for that sensitive spot where the top of the thigh meets the buttock.

Soon I was making pathetic moaning and whimpering noises. I tried to be brave, but Gretchen made it difficult. Just when I thought I had adjusted to the punishment I was receiving, a sudden sharp blow across the backs of my thighs made me yelp. Then while I was attempting to adjust to the misery of that blow, Gretchen rained down a rapid succession of six blows on my right buttock and another six on my left. My bottom was stinging with such intensity that I could almost believe it was on fire. Tears were welling up in my eyes when Gretchen finally stopped whipping me.

"Okay, Diane," Gretchen said loud enough for the audience to hear, "I want you to crawl off the stage and over to individual members of the audience. Remember to keep your ass up and your head down!"

Crawling naked across the floor of the lesbian club was humiliating, especially the way I was holding my ass way up in the air. And while I was in that awkward, humiliating position, Gretchen would order me to turn around and present my ass to members of the audience.

"Back arched," Gretchen admonished, "With your ass high up in the air, like a kitty-cat in heat."

I kept my head down and raised my ass up as high as it would go, spreading my legs wide when Gretchen berated me for not properly displaying my needy pussy to the club patrons. They oohed and aahed at the slickness of my pubic lips and how smooth I looked with all of my pubic hair shaved off.

One woman cupped my wet sex and commented, "Wow, she really is in heat." This comment earned a brief spell of feminine laughter.

The women in the front row were only too happy to fondle naked my ass when I presented it to them. My ass was scalding and tender to the touch, but I didn't ask for mercy or complain about their hands on my stinging flesh. It would have seemed a social gaffe.

"Burns beautifully, doesn't it, darling?" asked a woman who was fondling my poor, aching bottom.

Another woman commented, "You should whip her every day to keep the color."

"Gorgeous," one woman exclaimed and then I heard the telltale sounds of an iPhone taking multiple photos.

A few women weren't satisfied with merely fondling my reddened ass, but insisted on smacking it as well. This elicited more whimpers and yelps of pain from me, but I maintained my pose with my ass way up in the air and my thighs apart. I even kept my head down so low that my nipples were dragging across the cold, hard floor.

About a dozen women got to fondle my extremely tender ass, of course while my ass was their prime interest, some women made certain to pay attention to other select parts of my anatomy. I gasped when one woman stroked the sensitive flesh of my anus. And there were about five or six women who stroked my pubic lips and even one who artlessly grabbed my labia with her hands and pulled them painfully far apart, causing me to whimper as her rough hands abused my delicate, pink flesh.

Of course, she had no concern for the pain she was causing me. However she did seem to think it was important to point out how wet my sex was and to comment how my wet pussy was absolute proof that I "must be enjoying this".

One after the other, these women took possession of my naked flesh. One after the other, these women got to fondle, stroke, pinch, finger, slap and berate me. It was painful, it was humiliating, it was intimidating, it was humbling...and yet it was terribly exciting too.

And then, after I had an indeterminate amount of time being fondled and hurt and abused by these mean women, Gretchen ordered me to crawl on all fours, back up onto the stage.

Gretchen had me kneel on the stage and ordered me to hold out my wrists to her. Obediently I held them out and patiently allowed her to buckle leather bondage cuffs tightly onto my wrists.

"Bondage is a very important part of a slave's life," Gretchen announced loud enough for all the women at Adoration to hear, "So, I think it's about time that this bad girl was bound and helpless."

There was a stainless steel ring hanging from the ceiling that I hadn't noticed before. Gretchen used some D-clips or something similar to attach my wrist cuffs to that ring, high above my head. Then Gretchen stepped off the stage and she and another woman pulled on a rope on the other side of the room. When they pulled, the stainless steel ring my wrist cuffs were attached to, began to rise higher and higher. My arms were pulled taut above my head until my naked body was stretched taut and my feet were almost off the floor.

"Now, I need some more women with blue tickets," Gretchen called out and a dozen women stood up and waved their tickets in the air.

"You, you, you, you and you," Gretchen said as she pointed to members of the audience. Five women eagerly came up on the stage and at Gretchen's instructions they began to grope, fondle and pinch me. There were two women who stood to either side of me, grabbed my bare legs and pulled them obscenely far apart, stretching my adductor muscles and baring my shaved labia.

Another woman reached around behind my neck, grabbed my hair, forced my head back and then crushed my lips with hers. While I was moaning into her mouth, another woman came up behind me and grabbed my breasts. She fondled them, slowly and gently at first, and then roughly, eventually trapping my nipples between her thumbs and index fingers and pinching my poor nipples cruelly.

The sounds of my whimpers and moans were muffled by the woman who was kissing me. She forced her tongue into my mouth, gagging me and keeping me from making any real noise.

The woman with her hands on my breasts continued to squeeze and knead my soft flesh, fingering, pinching and twisting my poor, aching nipples.

"Aaaaaahh," I exclaimed pitifully when my mouth was finally free of the girl who was aggressively kissing me.

But the throbbing pain in my nipples became a secondary concern when I felt hands on my thighs and fingers separating my swollen labia and delving into the wetness of my defenseless pussy. "She's soaking wet," I heard a woman exclaim and then she thrust a second finger deep inside of me.

Soon two fingers were being pumped slowly in and out of my sex. I moaned, whimpered and gasped as my already throbbing pussy became even more sexually stimulated. As my vagina was roughly fingered, the women holding my ankles raised them up higher, slightly above my waist level. My legs were spread obscenely wide, exposing my pink pubic lips to the crowd as much as humanly possible. Hundreds of female eyes focused intently on my throbbing pussy and leaned forward in their seats to get a better look at my exposed and needy sex. I began to pant and Gretchen recognized the signs of an impending orgasm from the sounds I was making.

"Does my slavegirl want to cum?" Gretchen asked loud enough that every member of the audience could hear.

"Yes, Mistress," I cried out, gasping for breath. I was humiliated, but now frantic with need. My clit was swollen, throbbing and peeking out from its hood. It was so sensitive that it now ached and I could feel the approach of a powerful orgasm as my defenseless pussy was impaled on a strong woman's fingers.

"Not yet," Gretchen calmly called out. She was being deliberately cruel to me, to entertain the crowd now. An agonizing wave of desire passed through me, but Gretchen sadistically denied me permission to reach orgasm. And we all knew that horrible punishments awaited any slave who dared to orgasm without permission.

"If you want to cum, you need to ask permission from that woman over there," Gretchen announced and pointed to a smiling woman in the front row. The woman was wearing a black party dress and wore a very cute bracelet on one wrist that appeared to be made of black onyx and silver. She had kind eyes and a drink in her hand.

Quite a few women in the audience laughed. They were probably anticipating that permission would be denied and I'd be left sexually frustrated and in desperate need.

"You see her?" Gretchen asked, still pointing. "She's the one who controls your orgasms now. She's the only one who can give you permission."

I desperately hoped that the woman was as kind as she looked. I made eye contact with her from across the room and pleaded with her with my eyes and I begged, "Please, Mistress! May I cum?"

The smile remained on her face and her eyes still looked kind and benevolent, however she called back, "No, not yet."

Another agonizing wave of desire passed through me, heating my breasts, hardening my nipples and causing my sex to throb with hungry spasms. My legs were spread obscenely wide, as if were doing the splits and those intrusive fingers were still probing deep inside my shamelessly exposed pussy. Tears welled up in my eyes and I felt a delicious, yet cruel helplessness as the orgasm I frantically needed was denied me.

Other women in the audience were also smiling as I suffered--enjoying my plight no doubt. They laughed when the smiling woman denied me permission to have an orgasm. And then I yelped in pain as some woman who had been fondling my leg, unexpectedly pinched the stretched skin of my inner thigh, causing a sharp and unexpected pain.

The woman behind me continued to squeeze and knead my exposed breasts and pinch my poor, aching nipples. The woman who had penetrated my throbbing, pink sex continued to thrust her fingers deeply inside of me and I continued to pant and whimper as my helpless, naked body was fingered and abused. I noticed Jennifer, the jogger that I had met on Fleming Avenue, about five rows back. She seemed to be enjoying my torment just as much as the other patrons.

"You may not get to have an orgasm at all today," Gretchen mocked loudly. Of course Gretchen knew how desperately I needed orgasmic release, she was just playing to the crowd.

"Please may I cum?" I screamed frantically to the woman in the black party dress. However she continued to smile, unmoved by my plight and yelled back, "No, not yet." Then she leaned towards the woman next to her and said something that I couldn't hear over the sound of my own miserable panting. Both women laughed as a result of whatever was said--probably a joke at my expense.

"Please may I cum?" I screamed out only a few seconds later. My pussy was soaking wet now and my clit was so hard and swollen it ached. I was trying to hold back my orgasm, however I couldn't delay it for much longer. There were hands all over my naked body and fingers probing deep in my throbbing sex, driving up the intensity of my sexual fever. I was covered with sweat, panting and trembling with sexual frustration. An orgasm was going to rip through my naked body soon, no matter how much I attempted to hold it back.

"Please," I whimpered, overwhelmed by the feverish heat rolling through me.

The woman in the black party dress, smiled at me, tilted her head to one side and silently seemed to be considering my desperate request. Her friend leaned over and whispered something in her ear and whatever it was, I think it helped this woman make a decision in my favor.

"Yes, slavegirl, you can come now." She said, loud enough that most of the patrons in Adoration could hear it.

"Thank you, Mistress," I cried out passionately and the orgasm that had been building and building and filling me with and endless, hungry need finally ripped through me. "Thank you," I screamed again as the orgasm washed over me, twisting and writhing, my head shaking and thrashing as the shockwave of wanton, shameless pleasure tore through my naked, helpless body.

"You're so kind," said the woman with her fingers thrust deep into my pussy. "I think you should have made her wait much longer."

The women holding my legs far apart at long last let go of me and my bare feet were finally allowed to make contact once again with the stage. Most of the patrons left the stage and returned to their chairs, however the one who had fingered my pussy failed to follow their example. Apparently she felt offended that I didn't have to wait longer for my orgasm, or perhaps she felt I should have begged more. Whatever the reason, she raised her hand and brought it down hard against my already-sore bottom.

Crack! Her hand slapped across my bottom with stinging force. Crack! It struck again. I was helpless to do anything to stop her.

"Say that you're a spoiled girl and that you're given orgasms that you don't deserve," she ordered.

"I'm a spoiled girl and I've given orgasms I don't deserve," I obediently responded, however that didn't seem good enough, and the punishment of my poor, tender ass continued.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

"Ow! Oww! Ohh! Oww!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I cried out, not certain what I was apologizing for and then I felt my bottom sting anew as her hand spanked my ass once again.

"Spoiled girls need to be punished," the malevolent girl informed me and then her hand stroked my punished bottom. My bottom was so sore, that even the gentle stroking of feminine fingers caused my bottom to throb in painful protest. Then the cruel female stopped stroking my bare bottom and pinched it where it was most sore.

"Ooooo, ouch," I exclaimed at the sudden, sharp, stinging pain the unexpected pinch had caused.

"Remember me when you're back in America, you spoiled, little girl," the harsh mistress admonished. "When you're in America, wearing a designer dress and shopping for shoes at the mall, remember how I had you naked, panting and under my thumb."

Then, suddenly, my face was held captive in her vicelike hands, she forced a kiss on me, invading my mouth with a tongue that probed deep.

When she released me from the kiss, I was panting, naked, breasts heaving, glossy with sweat, eyes welling up with tears and my ass was throbbing in pain.

That's when I first got a decent look it her face. It was Lynn, it was the girl from the bus-stop who had whipped my breasts with her leather belt. I was shocked to see her at first, but then I remembered that having me used as entertainment at this lesbian club was originally her idea.

"Yes, Mistress, I'll remember," I said, a throb in my voice. I felt utterly humiliated and demeaned by this mean girl. Then, as I stood there, naked, helpless and panting, she walked off the stage and walked back to her seat. When she was seated comfortably, she gave me a wicked smile and took a photo of my helpless nudity with her phone.

While I was still panting from my ordeal, Gretchen called out ceremoniously, "Alright ladies! Intermission!!"

At Gretchen's announcement, several women got up from their seats. Some wandered off to the ladies room. Some headed for the bar. Some just stood and talked with other patrons of the club.

However, while all of these well-dressed women were able to stretch their legs and avail themselves of the club's amenities, I was left panting, with my wrists bound tightly in leather, my naked body stretched taut and still on display. I was filled with foreboding and disquiet as I wondered how long intermission would last and what would be my eventual fate once intermission was over.