Sweet Gwendoline Ch. 10

Story Info
Gwen is abused by other female slaves and then interrogated.
9.1k words
4.61
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10

Part 10 of the 28 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 11/30/2014
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I was naked, my legs were spread indecently far apart and my bottom was pushed out towards Doctor Riemen. This would have been quite humiliating all by itself, however Doctor Riemen increased my mortification by spearing my asshole with her fingers and probing deep and mercilessly into my anus.

"Now Gwendoline, I am going to ask you some questions," Doctor Riemen said in a cold, phlegmatic tone of voice, "And you are going to be very honest with all of your answers."

"Yes, Doctor Riemen," I replied reflexively, without any thought of resistance crossing my mind. Her fingers had speared me, and I felt utterly controlled by her while they remained deep inside of me. I felt so vulnerable and helpless while impaled on her fingers, I believe I would have agreed to anything she said.

"Now, dear," Doctor Riemen asked as she twisted her fingers around inside of me, "When did you first discover that you were sexually submissive?"

The question confused me at first. I had submissive fantasies as far back as I could remember. I remember being a huge fan of the story of Cinderella as a girl and used to have dreams at night where I was Cinderella and my cruel stepmother and her abusive daughters kept me naked in their house and forced me to scrub the kitchen floor on my hands and knees and each of them wore a leather belt around their slender waists. And if I failed to scrub the kitchen floor to their satisfaction, those leather belts would come off and be used to swat my poor naked bottom until I yelped in pain.

Eventually I made the connection that these fantasies were sexual in nature, however that realization dawned upon me slowly and gradually. I never talked about this journey of self-discovery with my friends or family. I just kept this all bottled up and never shared it with anybody, until I met Christina. So, when exactly did I discover that I was sexually submissive?

"I think that was probably in the 8th grade, Doctor Riemen," I finally responded, "Some of the older students would tell tales to scare the younger ones. We were told that one of the gymnastic teachers was a sexual predator, and that she would rape girls in the shower after gymnastics practice. I wasn't even certain what rape was back then, but I would get excited at the thought of being naked and overpowered by her in the shower. I actually signed up for her gymnastics class with the hope that the stories were try and she would grab me in the showers one day."

"Oh, you were an eager little submissive," Doctor Riemen enthused, "And did this gymnastics teacher ever take advantage of your naked body while you were in the shower?"

"No, Doctor Riemen," I said with a tinge of regret in my voice, "The stories about her were all rumors. She was very professional. She never touched any of her students."

I felt Doctor Riemen's finger twisting around inside of me and she seemed to consider that before going onto the next question.

"Have you ever masturbated to fantasies about being raped by this teacher in the showers?"

The fingers sank deeper inside of me and I grimaced as I attempted to answer.

"Many times, Doctor Riemen," I responded, "My fantasies were awkward and clumsy at first. I didn't understand what rape was back then. But as I grew to understand the mechanics of how one woman could rape another, my fantasies became more coherent and refined. Eventually the fantasies came to involve the teacher and about four or five of the female students."

"How ambitious," Doctor Riemen said, "And did any of the students at your school ever sexually abuse you in real life?"

"No, Doctor Riemen," I replied.

"Well, dear, it seems as if your real life has been quite boring compared to your fantasy life. At what age, did you finally experience your first submissive sexual encounter?"

"It was at age twenty-one," I replied as her finger probed deep and opened up my asshole even wider.

"Twenty-one?" the dominant woman asked, and she grabbed my tender labia with one hand and pinched it cruelly, while she mercilessly probed my anus with the other.

"You'll have to be punished for waiting so long to find yourself a dominant sexual partner. You should have begun years earlier."

Doctor Riemen then proceeded to ask me for details about my lesbian, shower-rape fantasies. She insisted that I include as much detail as possible and leave nothing out. I had never told anyone about these fantasies before, and to divulge these intimate details to Doctor Riemen, two security guards. Christina, Christina's aunt and Doctor Riemen's assistant was humiliating. My fantasies were quite bizarre and deviant. And Doctor Riemen's office assistant looked so young, innocent and ordinary! She probably thought that I was some sort of outlandish freak!

Doctor Riemen continued to violate my poor, innocent anus with her insistent, probing fingers as she interrogated me. The questions seemed endless, but it was important that I answer them quickly and honestly. Hesitation would bring punishment, such as humiliating pinches or sharp, punishing slaps to my bare buttocks. And if she thought I was trying to be dishonest or evasive, that would be even worse.

By the time the interrogation was over, I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, I was trembling and Doctor Riemen knew what turned me on sexually, what embarrassed me and what frightened me.

"Did you write all that down?" Doctor Riemen asked her assistant, as she walked back to her desk and removed the latex glove from her hand.

"Almost," her assistant replied, "She was surprisingly cooperative and eager to answer all of your questions. It was hard to keep up."

Doctor Riemen gave her assistant a few more seconds to scribble down my responses and then spoke to Christina and her aunt.

"Your submissive has an extreme phobia about being anally penetrated," she said, "I can put her on a training regimen that will eventually rid her of that fear; or if you prefer; I can leave her phobia in place. It would be nice to know there's a method of punishing her that she won't like."

"Leave her the way she is," Christina responded, "If she hates being anally penetrated, the threat of it could be a great way of controlling her behavior."

* * * * * * * * * *

Having settled that, the next order of business was testing my skin to see how long certain instruments of corporal punishment left marks on me.

"I've been told repeatedly, that you work as a stripper," Doctor Riemen said to me, "And that I'm not to leave any long-lasting marks on your skin. Ms. Ward and Ms. Taylor don't want your punishments to cause you to lose any days at work."

Then she pulled her chair out, about twelve feet from her desk, sat down in it and told me to lie across her lap.

The fabric of her tweed skirt felt rough against my naked thighs, and then I felt Doctor Riemen's hands on my naked buttocks, and I flinched. I had only known Doctor Riemen a very short amount of time, but I was already afraid of her.

"Now, Gwendoline, I can't leave any bruises or long-term marks on you, so that leaves out things like canes and riding crops," Doctor Riemen said, "However I can leave marks on you that fade quickly, so I'm going to try a variety of different punishments on you and see how long the marks last. My assistant will record the results of these trials."

I had just a few seconds to absorb these words before Doctor Riemen began to spank my bare buttocks hard and rhythmically. Her hands seemed awfully strong for a PHD and soon my poor, innocent bottom was stinging with hot, scalding, throbbing pain. I was certain that you could melt a cube of ice or cold butter on my poor bottom by the time she was finished.

"Keira," Doctor Riemen called out to her assistant, "It's 9:25 and her ass is an amaranth shade of red from a fast, efficient hand-spanking. Mark that down and I'll let you know when the color fades."

I was sobbing, my poor bottom was stinging and my face was wet with tears, and I remember feeling outraged that I had been mercilessly spanked; not as a punishment for disobedience or hesitation to obey; but as part of some sort of experiment.

It was 9:59 when the color faded completely from my poor, abused ass. Doctor Riemen's assistant wrote that down in her book, and then Doctor Riemen got ready for her next experiment.

The next, cruel and unusual experiment Doctor Riemen performed on my naked body was with a leather belt. The belt looked old and very worn. I surmised it had been used to punish the naked bottoms of many girls at the Vineyard.

Doctor Riemen ordered me to stand against the wall, press my hands against it firmly, arch my back, spread my legs and thrust my buttocks out towards her.

"Now, balance on the balls of your feet, dear," Doctor Riemen commanded, making things even more difficult for me, "I want to see you flex the muscles in the backs of those gorgeous legs."

I felt intensely exposed and vulnerable, but I obeyed her orders. Stinging blows from the leather belt rained down on my naked flesh almost the instant I was in position.

"Ow, ow, Aghh, Aaghhhhhhhh," I screamed incoherently as Doctor Riemen decorated my ass and the backs of my thighs with reddish-pink marks. She claimed that the marks on my skin were quite beautiful, but I never got a chance to see them. I just got to feel how sore and tender they made my skin feel.

The marks from the leather belt lasted longer than the marks from the hand spanking. It was 11:02 when the marks from the leather belt finally faded. Doctor Riemen told her assistant to record the results of the leather belt on my innocent, naked skin, and then it was on to the next painful experiment.

"Hands behind your back, dear," Doctor Riemen ordered, "I need you to be handcuffed now."

Being a good submissive, I obeyed immediately. I was eager for Doctor Riemen's approval. Christina's aunt had paid a lot of money to get me into the Vineyard, and if I performed badly and made a bad impression on Doctor Riemen, it would make me look bad in front of three very important, dominant women in my life.

One of the security guards handcuffed me, and then Doctor Riemen ordered me to my knees. I knew that more pain was coming, but I didn't know exactly what form it would take. With my wrists bound behind me, my back and buttocks were partially protected, however, my front was vulnerable. It seemed likely that Doctor Riemen would inflict pain on my breasts next.

"This is calorex gel," Doctor Riemen explained, holding up a tube with a plastic cap, "It has chemicals in it that can cause skin to feel like its burning. When applied to the skin, it can cause swelling, redness and itching, however, it does no real damage and the redness tends to fade in two hours or less. I'm going to apply some to your breasts and we shall see how your skin reacts."

Before Doctor Riemen popped the cap open, she donned a pair of latex gloves. The fact that she didn't want to get any calorex gel on her hands, probably should have given me a hint just how much it would hurt when she applied it to my breasts, however my cognitive abilities weren't exactly at their peak that morning.

"Hold her by her arms," Doctor Riemen said to one of the security guards, "Try to keep her from squirming too much."

Even then, I still didn't guess just how much the calorex gel was going to hurt. My deductive reasoning skills were really not at their best that morning.

"Shouldn't we tie her to a chair or something, Doctor?" the security guard asked her, but Doctor Riemen shook her head and said, "No dear, I'd prefer to see how much self-discipline the little submissive has. Consider this to be a test."

Then to me, Doctor Riemen said, "Try to remain still, dear."

That was when I first began to suspect this was going to hurt far more than I was used to.

Doctor Riemen got a huge glob of the calorex gel on two of her gloved fingers and then she began to smear it all over my breasts. She was very methodical the way she worked the greasy substance into my skin. She smeared it across my erect nipples, my areolas, the sides of my breasts, the curved undersides of my breasts and even up near the top. She rubbed hard, making certain that the gel would get well-absorbed into the skin, and at first it felt good. There was no pain, just the feeling of strong, confident fingers exploring a very intimate and responsive part of my female anatomy.

I moaned in response to the feeling, and then Doctor Riemen very calmly said, "It appears the chemical reaction hasn't occurred just yet."

"Chemical reaction, Doctor Riemen?" I asked.

"It's my understanding that the chemicals react to body heat, dear," Doctor Riemen explained, "You may expect them to kick in at any second."

Suddenly the areas of my naked body that Doctor Riemen had touched began to sting. The pain wasn't terrible at first, but bad enough to make my eyes well up with tears. Soon my nipples, my pink areolas and my exposed breasts all began to burn. It was liquid fire, pure and simple fire consuming my breasts. All the tender, sensitive flesh between my ribcage and my collarbone was rapidly becoming an inferno. I attempted to remain still just like Doctor Riemen had ordered, however my body reacted reflexively to the pain and I seemed to be helpless to combat my body's instinctive reactions. I squirmed and wiggled and broke out into a feverish sweat. I sobbed and hot, wet tears rolled down my face. No wonder Doctor Riemen had worn gloves. That horrid gel she had smeared all across my breasts burned like fire.

I moaned and groaned and squirmed, and the pain seemed to last an eternity. My breasts turned reddish pink almost everywhere that Doctor Riemen had touched me. My normally pink nipples had become an angry shade of red, and became even more swollen and erect than before.

"Please, Doctor Riemen," I begged, "Please get this stuff off of me! It's agony!"

Doctor Riemen looked me in the eye very calmly and asked, "Do you wish to use your safe-word, dear?"

I looked over at Christina and her aunt and realized that I couldn't use my safe-word as long as they were in the room. I wanted them both to be proud of me, and using my safe-word would disappoint them both. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "No, it's okay. I can handle it. It hurts like hundreds of stinging nettles but I can handle it."

I continued to sob and perspire and the stinging pain from the calorex gel seemed to go on for hours and hours, however the redness faded after a mere eighty minutes. Doctor Riemen had her assistant write down the results of the calorex test in her book and the security guard was told to unlock me from the handcuffs.

My breasts still felt tender, and my nipples hurt especially bad, however the pain was less than it was before. Either the chemicals became less potent over time, or I was developing a tolerance to the pain...or possibly a combination of both.

"Ruth, I think Gwendoline should be given the opportunity to wash the calorex off of her breasts now," Doctor Riemen said to Christina's aunt, "The security guards will escort her to the showers."

My breasts and nipples were still throbbing with an invasive heat, so I saw this as an act of kindness.

"Thank you, Doctor Riemen," I said timidly as the security guards led me out of her office and down the hallways to where the slave's showers were located.

And it's no mistake that I differentiate between slave's showers and master's showers. There are shower facilities for masters and mistresses, however there are some huge differences in the way their shower rooms were designed.

For instance masters and mistresses have locker rooms, where their clothes can be secured while they shower.

Another difference is privacy. When masters and mistresses shower, they have individual showers with glass doors that allow them to shower without having to worry about other guests or members of the staff ogling their naked bodies.

Slaves shower in a huge group shower-room, with fourteen showerheads and no barriers between you and the next person showering.

The slave's shower-room also had a long observation window cut into one wall, allowing the Vineyard's staff and guests to monitor the slave's while they showered.

It was a deliberate indignity and degradation that the Vineyard made certain that we slaves all knew that we could be openly ogled whenever we showered, however, I found this to be strangely comforting. If you were going to create a BDSM theme park, it was only appropriate they the slaves knew they had no privacy and were always on display. Wasn't that one of the main points of being a sex-slave? To pretend that it wasn't, would just be dishonest.

Just thinking about how my naked body was constantly available for ogling by the Vineyard staff and wealthy dominants caused my sex to respond with a soft, wet, throbbing. If I had my way, I think I'd sentence myself to life-imprisonment here. Every moment I was incarcerated in the Vineyard was like living in a delicious wet dream.

The security guards left me alone in the shower-room, however I sensed that they didn't wander far. I was less concerned about them and more concerned about the burning sensation in my poor nipples and breasts. I worked the knobs for the shower and sprayed cold water on my breasts and did my best to wash the calorex gel out of my skin.

"Aaaiiigghhhhh," I exclaimed. Almost instantly I realized that my breasts were tender to the touch and even mild contact hurt. Washing the calorex gel would be far more difficult than I originally thought. I was going to have to be slow and gentle in the way that I handled my breasts.

My nipples felt more abused and stinging than the rest of me, so I focused on gaining relief for them first. I touched my nipples gingerly and glided my fingertips across them with caution. They were sore and swollen and anything other than the gentlest of touches drove them into excruciating pain.

The cold water helped to numb the pain somewhat, and after fifteen or twenty minutes of lewdly stroking my own nipples and fondling my own breasts, I had reduced the pain down to a manageable level. Of course, Doctor Riemen, Christina and her Aunt Ruth watched the whole thing through the observation window. It was another degradation, but this was the life I had chosen; to be a naked slave-girl, possessed, humiliated, used and punished by dominant women.

As I stood there in the shower, being ogled while I played with my breasts, I had assumed that this was as far as Doctor Riemen was planning to go in abusing me. I had assumed that openly ogling my naked body while I washed my poor breasts was her entire plan.

I had assumed wrong. Her plan was a lot more involved than that.

I had just finished up washing my poor abused breasts, and was making sure I got any calorex residue off of my hands when Doctor Riemen's smartly-dressed assistant walked into the shower-room. Trailing obediently after Doctor Riemen's assistant were five naked women.

All five of them were young, slender, attractive and about my height. They all kept their eyes downcast and their hands behind their backs, as if bound there. Their body language was so submissive, I didn't need to be told that they were slave-girls. It was pretty obvious to anyone that paid attention.

"Okay, girls," Keira called out loud enough for the entire room to hear, "This is Inmate number 1101, sometimes known as Gwendoline. This is her first day, and she doesn't yet know what to expect from her time here."

She walked over to one of the women and smacked her on her bare buttocks, and the crack of her hand smacking against bare skin echoed loudly in the shower-room.