Popularity Ch 02

On my first day as a slave, I told my handler that I wasn't into having sex with girls.

I shouldn't have said that. Once she knew that I had no interest in women, she scheduled me for sapphic training. Basically, this meant that I would be forced to have sex with women until I dropped from exhaustion.

Allegedly, she was doing this to me because a sex slave is supposed to be skilled at pleasing both men and women. But I'm pretty sure she was motivated out of a sense of sadism. I think she was planning to enjoy watching the look of suffering on my face as a straight girl was forced into performing lesbian sex acts.

The OPS office in Sacramento had plenty of women who wanted to have sex with me. There were receptionists, security guards, cleaning women, an IT expert and so many others.

One of the first women I was forced to have sex with was named Kari. She was tall, graceful, poised, with long legs, high cheekbones and a vaguely European accent. Before I was handed over to her, Constance had my wrists bound behind my back. My handcuffs were connected to the back of my slave collar by a short chain. The way I was bound made me feel even more helpless and exposed than usual.

Having my wrists bound behind my back that way forced me to thrust my boobs forward. Kari took that as an invitation to grab them.

She held my defenseless breasts in her hands, lifting them slightly and then pushing them together. She enjoyed feeling me up, kneading my breasts like bread dough before toying with my nipples. She ran her hands all over me, touching me everywhere, but she kept coming back to my boobs, as if that were her favorite part of my body.

"Constance said you were attractive," Kari remarked circling me, leisurely studying my naked body from every angle, "but she undersold you. You're the most delicious looking female I've ever seen in this place. You're a wet dream come to life."

Her comment caught me completely off guard. I wasn't sure how to respond, so, I hesitantly responded, "Thank you?"

She seemed not to notice the confusion in my voice and continued to compliment me on my body. As she praised my physical attributes, she touched me all over, commenting on the firmness of my abs, my breasts, my glutes, my thighs and everything else she touched.

"Your body is sculpted perfection," she said as she groped me. "I'm jealous. I may have to punish you just for having an ass that's so much cuter than mine."

"You're not serious," I said nervously. "You can't punish me for having a butt that's more sculpted than yours!"

Kari gave me a look that seemed to be fifty percent compassion and fifty percent amusement, then she said, "Oh, Alex, oh dear. You are so innocent, aren't you?"

I was tongue-tied. I didn't know how to answer that. When I didn't respond, she said, "Slaves can be punished for the flimsiest of reasons. All the slaves here constantly have whip marks or the blush of a painful spanking on their body. After a few months, you'll get used to it. You might even grow to enjoy it."

"Enjoy being punished?" I asked incredulously.

Kari flashed me a wicked grin and replied, "I've seen it happen. Some of the slaves in this very building get a huge erotic charge from being spanked or whipped."

I couldn't conceive of any human being getting sexually aroused from being whipped. I was about to say as much, but before I could get the words out, she placed her mouth over mine and began to kiss me passionately. She slid her tongue into my mouth, I made inarticulate sounds of protest, but deep inside, I found myself enjoying the kiss.

I'm ostensibly straight. I'd never been attracted to a woman before, but as Kari probed my mouth with her tongue, I felt a stirring in my loins.

Upon reflection, I believe that my new body is much more sexually responsive than the old one. Callidus custom designed this body without discussing the details with me. She made me taller, curvier, stronger, with more endurance and a prettier face. Increasing sexual responsiveness would be just one more upgrade she decided to install.

I didn't even think how to respond. I simply melted in Kari's arms. I moaned reflexively as her tongue lovingly caressed mine. My hands were bound behind my back, so I couldn't hold her, but she wrapped her arms around me as we kissed, running her hands up and down my torso until her right hand grabbed at my bare buttocks.

She squeezed my ass, rubbed her hand up and down my rump and then squeezed it again before declaring, "That ass is just too perfect. I'm going to go crazy if I don't put you over my knee right now."

Kari was stronger than she looked and she quickly and easily threw me over her knee. With my ass in the air and my face near the ground, a surge of dread washed over me, and I squirmed.

"Kari!"

"Don't worry, I'll make this quick," Kari assured me. Then I felt the first stinging slap across my buttocks.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

I'd never been spanked before in my life. My parents didn't believe in corporal discipline. They felt it was barbaric. As a result, I was totally unprepared for how much the sting of a simple hand spanking could hurt. I squealed and twisted across Kari's lap from the very first swat.

"Aaahhh! It hurts!"

"It's

supposed

to hurt," Kari assured me. "Now, arch your back and thrust your ass up towards me."

I wanted to resist, but some part of my brain heard the tone of authority in her voice, and I awkwardly positioned myself so that my hindquarters were raised up and more vulnerable. Once I made my bare bottom a more inviting target, the stinging assault resumed.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

The sensation built up so fast that I felt pain even between blows and not just at the moment of impact. Kari got more enthusiastic, and the blows began to hurt more. I couldn't see my abused buttocks, but I was certain that they were turning bright red. I reflexively kicked and writhed across Kari's lap, but strangely I still attempted to keep my back arched and my buttocks raised for her.

At some point during my squirming and wailing in pain, I realized that my pussy was wet. The heat between my legs was almost equal to the heat on my poor, abused ass.

That's when I became certain that Callidus designed my new body to be much more sexually responsive than the old one. I mean, what sort of slut gets turned on from being spanked?

When Kari finished spanking my naked buttocks the only sound in the room was the sound of me sobbing. Kari pulled me up and positioned me, so I was sitting on her lap. My ass was on fire and too tender to be sitting on it, but Kari insisted I stay there on her lap.

"You look so submissive and adorable right now," Kari informed me. "Tears really enhance your beauty. I know it hurts, but I want to take a moment to enjoy how delicious you look."

My ass was stinging, my heart was pounding, my breasts were heaving, and my head was swimming with potent sensations of sexual arousal, helplessness and vulnerability. This cocktail of emotions confused me to no end.

* * *

It turned out that Kari wasn't the only one who felt I looked sexier with tears welled up in my eyes and my poor bottom covered with stinging red handprints.

I became a very popular attraction for the lesbians that worked in that building. They loved my breasts, and they were infatuated with the curves of my buttocks. My entire body was a playground for them to be enjoyed endlessly.

Of course, if any of the OPS employees complained about my cunnilingus skills or my failure to follow proper slave/mistress etiquette, Constance would whip me with a leather strap.

I had never gone down on a woman before in my life, so I was understandably bad at it when Constance ordered me to start pleasing women with my tongue. It seemed unfair to me that I would get punished for not instantly being an expert at cunnilingus, but Constance didn't see it that way.

"Slaves are expected to please their masters," she said. "If they fail, they get punished."

It seemed to me that she just enjoyed punishing me. Hearing me yelp in pain and watching red stripes appear on my ass made her happy. Even if my performance were perfect, I think she'd still find an excuse to whip me with her sadistic strap.

"This will teach you to become a better slave," she would say before she whipped my backside with her wicked strap. I learned quickly that getting punished with that thing hurt far worse than a simple hand spanking.

As I endured these humiliating experiences, I felt that my body was betraying me. Even as I suffered through it all, my nipples were chronically hard, my pussy was chronically wet, and my clitoris was chronically swollen and throbbing. I blamed Callidus.

Never before in my life did I have any kinky fetishes, but now with this new body Callidus had created, I was getting turned on while being groped and spanked by lesbians.

* * *

The OPS office in Seattle occasionally hosted dinners with VIPs as guests. When these dinners occurred, a small number of slaves would be chosen to serve the food. As I was the newest slave, guests were eager to meet me and ogle my naked body, so I was one of the slaves chosen to serve.

Two other slaves were ordered to serve alongside me. They were both young and slender with beautiful bodies and a prominent pink blush on their butts, unmistakable evidence that they'd both been recently spanked.

The kitchen was ruled by a woman named Joanne. We three slaves feared her. She kept a thin leather strap in the pocket of her apron, and she wasn't hesitant about using it if any of the slaves disappointed her in any way.

Joanne planned out the menu and selected all the ingredients. We slaves did all the grunt work under Joanne's close supervision. When the food prep was done, and Joanne approved the quality of our work, I was given a tray of shrimp canapés and given my final instructions.

"Maintain posture," Joanne ordered, "A slave should stand straight whenever possible, back arched, shoulders back and chest thrust forward. Never allow your knees to touch, and don't speak to any of the guests unless spoken to. Only free women are allowed to speak freely. And as always, I'll be watching you to make certain that you behave."

Naked, I walked out into the dining room with my silver tray. I stood as straight as I possibly could, and then I caught sight of Constance's guests.

She had four VIPs sitting at the table with her. I recognized two of them. One was a Republican congresswoman and the other was a well-known news anchor. I gathered that the other women were also powerful or important in some way. They were well dressed and displayed an aloofness normally associated with powerful people. I immediately felt even more naked in their presence.

The two I didn't recognize both had British accents. I hypothesized they might be visiting diplomats. I dutifully went around the table, serving food and clearing away plates, trays and platters as the meal progressed, however, Constance's guests didn't make it easy.

At one point during the dinner the news anchor reached between my legs and roughly kneaded my pubic lips. She gleefully announced to all the women that my pussy was soaking wet. She then encouraged everyone at the table to feel me for themselves.

I could feel my face heat up as my embarrassment deepened. All of Constance's guests were eager to get their hands on me, they felt me up every chance they got. One of the British women seemed especially fond of grabbing my bottom.

As I served her food and drink, she ran her hands up and down the curves of my buttocks, and even worked her fingertips into the tight furrow between my butt cheeks.

"Aaahhh!"

I gasped as her fingers brushed across the delicate flesh of my anus. Everyone laughed at my reaction.

The two posh British ladies were named Rosie and Susan. Susan was the younger of the two and the most mischievous.

At one point in the evening, I was pouring cabernet into a wine class. I was leaning over, and Susan reached for my breasts as they hung down. She rubbed my already erect nipples until I moaned. She trapped one of my nipples between her fingers and cruelly pinched it. The pain was agonizingly sharp, and I reacted on instinct. I dropped the bottle of wine and placed my hands on my breasts, protecting them from Susan's assault.

Suddenly, all conversation ceased, and the smiling faces turned suddenly grim and judgmental.

"Alex, I am so disappointed in you," Constance said as she stared at me coolly. "My guests were eager to meet my new slave. I had told them so much about you, and now you do something like this."

"Of course, she'll have to be punished," Susan commented with an air of authority on such matters.

The other slaves looked over at me. They said nothing but I felt a sense of solidarity from them. They knew what it was like to suffer unjust punishments, and they felt sympathy for me for what I was about to endure.

* * *

Down in the lower levels of the building, there was a room where the circuit panel and the water heaters were located. That dark, ominous room also had a disturbing number of whips and bondage devices. That's where I was taken for my punishment.

In the eerie lighting of that foreboding place, I spotted two whipping frames. I was almost certain that they would strap me to one of them, however, I was pushed into the center of the room and made to stand underneath a trapeze bar, one of several, all suspended by steel cables disappearing into the gloom above. There was just enough light so I could see that the bars were outfitted with leather straps that could be buckled around a naked girl's wrists, to secure her for punishment.

I was ordered to raise my hands above my head and then the trapeze bar descended from the ceiling. The trapeze bars were outfitted with leather straps that could be buckled around a naked girl's wrists, thus securing her for punishment.

I was ordered to raise my hands above my head and as I obeyed, the trapeze bars descended from the ceiling with a soft whirring sound.

While Constance's friends buckled my wrists to the trapeze bar, now just above my head, Constance took up a position in the corner next to a tripod. Situated on the top of the tripod was a small video recorder. She aimed the video recorder in my direction and turned it on.

"Whippings are physically painful," Constance explained as my wrists were secured and I felt myself immobilized. "However, when a slave is punished, I like to inflict some emotional distress as well. I think it makes things more interesting. To that end, I sometimes record a slave's humiliations and send a video recording to people they know."

My eyes went wide at that. Certainly, she wouldn't share video recordings of me naked, bound and being whipped! That would be overwhelmingly cruel and humiliating!

When the leather straps were secure and there was no hope of me escaping from my bonds, my handler went over to the far wall and pressed some buttons to cause the trapeze bar to rise. As the bar ascended, my wrists went up and soon my feet left the floor, my naked body stretched taut.

With my naked body stretched taut like that, I felt like I was already quite helpless, but Constance and her affluent friends seemed to feel I wasn't quite helpless enough. Susan and Rosie secured leather restraints around my dangling ankles while Constance brought over two short chains. They attached the chains to my ankle restraints, then fastened the other ends of the chains to stainless steel rings set into the floor.

My arms and legs were pulled far apart, stretching me spread-eagle, my legs pulled so wide that there was a lot of tension on my inner thigh muscles. It was an uncomfortable way to bind a girl, but all the well-dressed women in the room were delighted at how exposed and vulnerable I looked.

My body was stretched as far as it would go, and I felt a wave of panic wash over me. The way I was bound with my legs spread shamelessly far apart; I was utterly at their mercy. They could do anything that they wanted, and I could do nothing to stop them.

Constance began speaking, but to the video recorder, not to me, nor to Susan or Rosie, who stood next to me, watching me struggle.

"Mrs. Winter, your daughter has been a very bad girl. I was attempting to impress some of my friends with my beautiful new slave, and when they ran their hands across the more intimate parts of her anatomy, she resisted. Slaves aren't allowed to resist when they're being felt up. Every time she rebels against being touched; you can expect to get a video like this one."

"What? No!"

I screamed as a new sort of fear washed over me. "You can't send a recording of this to my mom!"

Constance looked over at me, her eyes cold and pitiless.

"Foolish girl," she said. "You're a slave now. You don't have the same rights to dignity or privacy that a free woman has. I can share the most intimate and embarrassing details of your time here with everyone you've ever known. Don't challenge me. As bad as you may think this is, I can always make things worse!"

That stunned me into silence.

Sending a video of me being whipped to my mother was dreadfully humiliating but sending her a video of me engaging in lesbian sex would be worse. I was ostensibly straight, but I was truly developing a taste for the feel of a naked woman pressed up against my body. If my mother saw the way I squirmed and gasped and smiled when a woman touched me a certain way, it would be even more embarrassing than her seeing me being whipped.

"The way you've got your arms raised and spread apart makes your boobs stand out admirably," Susan said. She reached out with both hands and pinched my erect nipples.

"You won't be hiding them away now, will you?" she demanded as she tormented my poor nipples.

"No, mistress," I whimpered, shaking in my bondage, nervous about how exposed and vulnerable I was to this wicked, imperious woman.

"And these cute, youthful nether lips", she said as she reached between my widespread legs and pinched my swollen labia together so that my juices overflowed and leaked onto her fingers.

"You won't be hiding these away from me either, will you?"

"No, mistress," I replied tremulously as I reflexively tried to close my legs. Of course, the chains and the leather restraints secured around my ankles made that impossible.

Susan went over to the wall and selected a whip. She walked back over to me and held the whip up where it was frighteningly visible. She looked over her shoulder at the camera.

"You have a very beautiful daughter, Mrs. Winter. However, she must be corrected and humbled if she's ever going to become an obedient subservient slave."

She handed the whip to Rosie, then, she grabbed my left boob and squeezed it harder and harder, until the pain was sharp and excruciating.

"Aaaahhhh!"

"You don't get to decide who plays with your boobs," Susan said as she maliciously sank her fingers into my left breast. "You're a slave. That means that these boobs belong to any free man or woman who wants to enjoy them!"

My self-preservation instinct kicked in and I automatically strained against my bonds. But no matter how much I struggled, I couldn't break free, and I couldn't protect my breasts from Susan's assault. My nipples were cruelly pinched, and my breasts were viciously kneaded and squeezed so even before the whipping started, my breasts were sensitized. Rosie handed back the whip.

It was horrible. Being whipped across my breasts was a much worse fate than being whipped across my buttocks. The stinging sensation as my boobs were whipped was excruciating. And Susan enjoyed my suffering, I screamed and begged for mercy, but she just kept decorating my poor, innocent breasts with painful, pink lines.