Simone took me to her home and had me present myself to her servants. Of course, it was humiliating to have my naked body scrutinized by her groundskeeper, her maids and the security people who patrolled the ground. I think that was rather the idea.
I think slaves are supposed to be constantly vexed with feelings of helplessness, humiliation and vulnerability. That sort of conditioning helps to keep us in the proper "slave mindset."
Simone insisted that my wrists be tied behind my back when I met her servants, so I wouldn't be tempted to use my hands to cover my breasts or other adorably indecent parts of my anatomy.
"The way you've got me tied is forcing me to pull my shoulders back and thrust my breasts out like a slut," I complained. "It's like I'm encouraging people to stare at them."
"And what's wrong with that?" Simone asked. "You're a naked slave girl. People are supposed to pay attention to your breasts. Beautiful breasts are an important part of why people pay so much money for slave girls."
"But," I began to protest, making sidelong glances at the maids and security guards who were openly scrutinizing every curve of my naked body.
"I paid a lot of money for you, and I intend to show you off," Simone replied emphatically. "And those breasts of yours are gorgeous. They're one of the reasons I paid so much money for you."
And with everyone watching, she took my outrageously exposed breasts in her hands and lifted them up, pressing them into my body and then brushing her thumbs up and down across my already erect nipples.
"Ohhhhhh, Simone!"
I protested. The way she was playing with my nipples was creating a wave of tingling sensations and I gasped helplessly as I felt my sex throb in hungry spasms.
"That's mistress to you, slut," Simone insisted. "And you're not allowed any modesty while you're on my estate. Your boobs, your butt and your deliciously pink and swollen pubic lips will be constantly on display for everyone to see. Even the maids and kitchen staff and the security guards will be able to get a good look at you."
I moaned some more as Simone kneaded my breasts and manipulated my nipples. Another agonizing wave of desire passed through me, coaxing my nipples into becoming even harder and more achingly erect.
"I think that the first order of business is to drive home the point that you're a sex object. The whole point of your existence is to be sexually objectified; and not just by me; but by anyone who sets foot on my estate."
On the front lawn, there were two wooden posts set about three feet apart. They were located close enough to the garage and the main entrance to the house that I could easily see both when I was standing between them.
"Stand with your legs far apart and your hands above your head, darling," Simone instructed me. "Dariia and Sasha will tie you between those posts so you can't cover yourself. Then, I'll invite everyone to come out and get a good look at you."
Based on the uniforms they were wearing, with white aprons, white collars and black dresses, Sasha and Dariia were both maids. Sasha was a slender woman with dark eyes and dark, wavy hair that looked like it was in a constant state of disarray. And while it might have looked sloppy on somebody else, on Sasha it looked sexy and exotic.
Sasha was young, slender and athletic in a tomboyish sort of way, and I immediately got the impression that she was stronger than me.
Dariia and Sasha were both surprisingly good at tying knots, for household servants. I quickly fell under the impression that they had tied up girls before. Sasha seemed to be especially skilled at tying knots and she openly ran her eyes up and down my naked body with a libidinous look in her eyes.
When the maids were finished securing my wrists and ankles, I was bound spread-eagle. The way my ankles were bound I was forced to spread my legs remarkably wide and leave my sex lips pornographically exposed.
"She's quite beautiful," Sasha commented. "May I touch her?"
I squirmed uncomfortably at the question. Simone seemed to consider the question for a few seconds before answering. I think she enjoyed watching me squirm. She made a great deal of eye contact with me, and her mouth quirked into a wicked smile before she said, "Of course. Touch her all over. A new slave should get groped on her first day."
Sasha's hands were enthusiastic as they roamed all over my naked body. She began by cupping my breasts, lifting them up as though she were weighing them. Then she kneaded them like bread dough. I gasped and strained against the ropes that held me as if I could escape if I put enough effort into it.
"You're not going anywhere," Sasha assured me as she gave my breasts a good, solid squeeze. "Those are good, strong ropes and our ropework is flawless. You could struggle until you're exhausted, but those ropes will continue to hold you."
Simone looked on with a proud look on her face, perhaps proud of my body...or proud of the job Sasha and Dariia had done making me helpless...or possibly both. Then Sasha reached down between my legs and ran her fingertips up and down my soft, pink slit.
"
Ohhhhhh!"
"A sex slave who doesn't like to have her pussy touched?" Sasha asked.
"She loves to be touched down there," Simone explained. "She probably just thinks that she's too good to be groped by the household staff. It's a character flaw, but one we can fix."
Dariia had stridden off while Sasha was groping me, but she came back with a crew of prurient companions at her heels.
Everyone wanted to touch me. Sasha was forced to stand aside and allow Simone's other employees to grab my boobs, smack my ass, pinch my nipples and feel me up all over.
There were three women in maid's uniforms, one woman in corporate attire, one man in a security guard's uniform and one woman in a security guard's uniform as well. They surrounded me and took turns molesting me.
"Oh!"
I gasped as the female security guard thrust a hand between my legs, cupping my bare sex and giving it a rough squeeze. I struggled vainly to close my legs together, then the security guard grabbed my labia and pulled them apart, making me feel even more exposed.
"You're soaking wet, pretty girl," the security guard informed me. "I think you're enjoying being Simone's sex slave."
I gasped, and while my pussy was being fingered, somebody else took my nipples into her hands and played with them. At first, they gently rolled my pink nubs between their thumbs and forefingers, but then they cruelly squeezed them, eliciting cries of pain from my girlish lips.
One of the security guards found a leather belt or strap and began to smack it across my ass. I yelped in pain and surprise. One of the servants got the bright idea of clamping her mouth over mine and kissing me as I was whipped, gagging me with her tongue and muffling the sounds of my screams.
I was groped, and my ass was whipped until it was a riot of red-hot, stinging pain. And then one of the maids commented that the redness of my ass made it look sexier.
"All that color is like a neon sign for her ass," the maid. "Her buttocks were beautiful before, but now it's like they're begging for your attention, saying 'look at me! Touch me! Squeeze me'!"
I panted and squirmed as everyone did exactly that. Everyone seemed fascinated with my newly reddened buttocks, and they all took turns running their hands up and down my sore, tender backside, squeezing my buttocks, making my yelp and gasp in pain.
"I'll go out tomorrow and buy a real whip so we can give her buttocks a proper whipping," Simone announced. "If you think she looks sexy now, imagine what she'll look like after she's been properly whipped."
Everyone agreed that I would look even sexier after a proper whipping. I trembled at the thought. The prospect of being whipped by Simone with all of her servants watching me writhe and scream under the lash was frightening, but I knew there was no way I could talk Simone out of it.
Everyone grabbed my ass and fondled it. One of the security guards even pulled my buttocks apart and examined my anus. "Tight little thing," he commented as he probed my delicate anus with the tip of his finger.
While I was worried that I might be anally penetrated from behind, Sasha made her way to stand in front of me and found the entrance to my sex. She thrust two fingers into my vagina and probed until she found my g-spot.
"You're soaking wet," the maid informed me, as if I didn't already know.
I whimpered, grunted and writhed as her fingertips pumped across my g-spot. She expertly fingered my pussy, and I moved my hips in a shameful manner, getting closer and closer to orgasm. I was impaled on the maid's strong fingers, and I worked my pelvis up and down as much as I could while bound spread-eagle. Everyone was watching as I rode the maid's fingers, and I could feel my face grow burning hot with both shame and sexual arousal.
Like a wave that had been building in strength over a thousand miles of ocean, so built the strength of the orgasm deep within my loins, but just as I was about reach the mind-blowing , shuddering climax, Simone laid her hands on the maid's forearm and told her to stop.
"Oh! Aaahhh!"
I gasped and whimpered when the maid withdrew her fingers. My pussy continued to spasm, but it was a suffering, unsatisfying throb and not the glorious spasms of a writhing, screaming orgasm.
"You can't just give Cheryl an orgasm like that," Simone explained. "Slaves have to earn orgasms, and Cheryl hasn't earned any yet."
I whimpered and bit my lower lip. My clitoris was achingly hard and swollen and I urgently wanted someone to stroke it until I exploded in sexual relief, but Simone was adamant that I hadn't yet earned any sexual relief.