Pilloried in the Mid East
This sory is my first, and so far my only sab at writing from the female sub point of view. Judging by the response of those who have seen it I did a good job so I thought I would post it here for the rest of you to enjoy. Feel free to tell me what you think.
Pilloried in the Mid-East
"Guilty as charged."
The judge's verdict stunned me. I couldn't believe him. No, I didn't want to believe him. The trial was a complete farce, just as Katy insisted from the beginning. How could we be guilty of violating a law when we were not even in the country but just passing by in the Mediterranean? How had we ended up here?
I had signed up for a BDSM cruise at the urging of Kelly, a Domme friend, who convinced me to come along with her and her sub husband. I was hesitant, but decided to give it a try. I might have some fun, and I might even meet a Dom I really liked.
The cruise was wonderful with everyone aboard in the lifestyle, except for the crew, of course. However, the organizers cleared that with the cruise line in advance and we paid a premium for the privilege. The BDSM theme made everyone comfortable and we all did things we would not normally do outside of our homes. The ship scrupulously avoided entering the waters of any country that objected in any way to what we were doing.
At least, that was the plan.
The morning was beautiful, a typical day in the Med. It was in the 70's with a breeze blowing gently across the deck. As I laid face down on the lounge and drifted in a fog of sleepiness, the memories from the dinner at the Captain’s table night before kept me awake. I had enjoyed the flirting and was wondering if he might be interested in exploring the world of BDSM with me. He was the one that suggested that we work on our tans this morning, as we would be in port in the late afternoon. I woke early and went on deck to catch some sun.
Normally I wear a one-piece suit in public, but I opted to work on my tan all over, something I could not do at home. I was on the fantail with a few other women, including Katy, and I found myself admiring her sated look, she must have had some fun last night. She's a bit taller than I am, with fuller breasts. The kind of breasts I wish I had, ones that men lust after and that cause them to drool. She had chosen to go topless instead of nude, and I teased her about it. She wore her hair short, and it was reddish, and tousled that morning; as if she had slept in the lounge chair she was in. She was tanned everywhere except for her breasts.
I did not know the other women on deck, but they were definitely younger and more used to being in the sun than I. They had “all over” tans. The first wore her hair past her shoulders, was blond, and had a light complexion, about 20, 5’7 and 147 lbs. I envied the firmness of her skin, but knew that in a few years it would turn to leather because of the time she spent in the sun. The other was darker with an Arabic look. Her hair was long, and very dark; but it glowed in the light as though lit from within. I would love to have hair like hers. She was about 126lbs and 5'8 tall. She had small breasts and her right nipple pierced. The only other thing she was wearing was an anklet that I had seen in fetish shops before, and I wondered where the matching collar was. She looked delectable, and would tempt me to switch if she asked.
The first that I knew of a problem was when I felt something cold at the base of my spine. Looking up I saw a sailor in a uniform that I did not recognize pointing a gun at me, and then realized that men with guns surrounded us all.
They hustled us off the ship as is. I could not even pick up the wrap that I had brought on deck with me. The trip across to the other ship was rough in the small boat we entered at gunpoint. When we reached the ship, we had to climb a rope ladder onto the deck. We all made it with the exception of the Arabic woman who curled into a ball in the bottom of the boat, and no amount of prodding by our captors elicited a response from her. Even the coaxing of her friend had no effect. They finally tossed a rope from the deck and tied it around her wrists, hauling her aboard dangling like an animal. This actually woke her up and she began to scream form the weight of her body straining against her arms.
The blonde-haired girl tried to look at her wrist because we could all see the blood from where the rope had dug into them, but they cuffed us, and led us stumbling along the crowded deck to the bow of the ship, where a single sailor guarded us. This left us open to the leering eyes of every sailor that could find any excuse to come on deck and look.
Katy was vocal through all of this, demanding to talk to the Captain, despite the rest of us pleading with not to make it worse. Personally, I agreed that it could not be any worse, but I kept my mouth shut, having learned from my Dom that calling attention to myself only brought more trouble.
After the ship docked, we found ourselves the center of activity as they led us down the gangplank and into the arms of the police. We climbed into the bed of a pickup truck, and they fastened collars around our necks, clipping us to a rack that forced us to stand as they drove through the city. The driver must have toured every major street in the city. I may never have been there before, but I do know when I am going around in circles.
They unclasped us from the truck and shoved us out the back I almost fell as I went off the tailgate. They chained us together and led us into the building. At first, I couldn’t see after coming out of the bright sun and found myself again stumbling as I tried to keep my feet.
We went directly into the courtroom and met our lawyer. A more despicable example of a man I could not imagine. It almost seemed like a cliché to look at him. Robes and a turban of silk made him look like a sheik, but his untrimmed beard seemed to be crawling with lice, and was full of dandruff and his breakfast. He spent more time feeling us up than working on our defense. He seemed really to enjoy the nipple ring that the Arabic girl sported. I was worried about her because she was simply staring into space as if nothing mattered anymore.
Katy did not wait for an opportunity to speak. She simply tore into them, demanding an opportunity to speak to the American Ambassador and that they release us immediately with a full apology. The only acknowledgment made of this was the filthy gag that they stuffed into her mouth. I was sorry to see this, but also glad, because I was tired of listening to her.
The only witness that testified shocked me immensely. It was the Captain of the cruise ship. He came in and described our "immoral and brazen" behavior in detail. It seemed that he was a new convert to Islam and deliberately guided the ship into the territorial waters to make an example of us, this after flirting with me at his table the night before. I wanted to scream and cry, but no way would I crack. I refused to give anyone that kind of satisfaction, especially those creeps. As far as the Captain was concerned, I hoped he choked the next time he sat down to eat. This made me wonder about the rest of the passengers and if they were here somewhere.
The next thing we knew they found us guilty. I gritted my teeth and asked the lawyer what would happen next. He put his face close to mine, and as he got in one last grope, he said only one word, "Pillory."
They then lead us off to await punishment. Again, we walked through the halls, but this time I was able to see enough to make me wonder if the building dated from the Crusades. Some of the art seemed to be even older.
The architecture was delightful, and there were the typical friezes and tapestry of Arabia. There was one frieze in particular that reminded me of some I had seen of pictures from Ancient Babylon, A smaller version to be sure, it was a statue of an ancient king holding a lion cub in his arms. Another work that I really wanted to look at was a carpet hanging on the wall. The colors were bright and clear, and the pattern was hypnotic. The simple pattern looked almost Navaho in concept and made me wonder where it came from. I realized I was desperately seeking anything to take my mind off what was happening. Tears began to fill my eyes.
We walked into the bright sun again, by this time the heat was oppressive. It must have been approaching 40 degrees. We walked for what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes. I felt hands groping at me as we pushed our way through the crowd. The cell they led us to was nothing more than a cage in the courtyard with an open latrine in one corner. Flies were everywhere and rancid food covered the ground.
The only concession they made to our comfort when they put us in the cell was removing the chain that held us together. We were in the open. Anything we did was visible to everyone. I walked over to Katy and told her that I would try to remove the gag if she knelt so I could reach. She glared at the crowd, but realized that she had no choice and did as I told her. When I finally managed to work the knot free she spit the gag onto the ground.
We cleared a space on the floor so we could sit, and turned our backs to the crowd. By this time, the flies had discovered and covered us. They drank the sweat pouring off us, and occasionally bit into our tender flesh.
After I told them what the lawyer had said to me, we talked about other things to keep our minds occupied. Pillory was a term we were all familiar with, the only thing left to wonder was when and where. I actually have enjoyed stocks in play, but let me tell you, the real thing was different.
Everyone enjoyed the show whenever one of us had to use the bathroom. We all got up to try to block the view of the crowd. It was a futile exercise. With no paper to clean ourselves, and no way to use it anyway, we had to live with the filth, and the flies soon discovered another reason to torment us. It was especially difficult when I helped Katy with the bikini bottom she was wearing. So much so that I was tempted to tell her to leave them off, but I didn’t want to add her misery.
We took the opportunity to talk to each other and introduce ourselves. The blonde-haired woman was Jean, and the Arabic girl was June. I discovered that they were lovers, and that June is obviously the sub in the relationship. I even found out why she was almost catatonic. She was actually from this area of the world, was raised a Muslim, and was shamed by the public humiliation.
I perked up when I saw them bringing us supper, but when they simply tossed it inside and half the food spilled to the floor I lost my appetite. We all ignored it, except for June, who had not eaten in a couple of days. At that time, I thought that I would never be hungry enough to eat like a dog in front of the whole city.
After dinner, they placed a large bowl of water in the cell for us to drink. This was too much for me after being out in the sun all afternoon. I swallowed my pride and got down to drink like everyone else. Katy was going to hold out, but we convinced her that it would be better to strong as possible for whatever might happen.
The cheering of the crowd was deafening. Half the city must have been there by then. The night was long and surprisingly cold so we huddled together in a futile attempt to stay warm. This actually made things worse in some ways, because by then I was in pain from the sunburn from the constant sun and lack of shade.
When the sun rose, the guards again tossed food into the cell, and all of us, except for Katy, decided to eat despite the humiliation. We drank as much water as possible. We went through the routine at the toilet again, the crowd outside had thinned some, but we still had an audience for every move.
The guards opened the cell and we went to the same truck as yesterday. They let us sit this time, something that actually worried me, because I knew that worse was in store for us. They drove us straight to the main square of the city Crowds cheered the whole way. The word had spread during the night. People thronged the streets.
At the square, we saw the stocks waiting for us on a platform, and more people lining the square. Getting down from the truck, we walked to a shower. A female guard tore away what little Katy was wearing. The crowd cheered. She held up the bikini bottoms and tossed them into the crowd, causing a minor diversion with the scrabble for them. We then walked into the shower; the two female guards scrubbed us down. I would have enjoyed being cleaned if it the guard had been gentle. The one who scrubbed me took a sadistic pleasure in using the brush to scrub me everywhere.
The path from the shower to the stage was through the crowd. This was the worst part for me. The crowds were able to press upon us from every side and the guards made no effort to keep them at bay. We were forced to endure the pawing of the men as we walked for what seemed like years.
I was the last one onto the stage and we all stood around waiting for something. Katy again spoke up, this time demanding to know what the delay was. It was interesting to see her almost anxious for the punishment. I guess she was thinking that the sooner it started, the sooner it would be over, something I knew from experience was not always true.
Soon the crowd stirred and our lawyer walked up on the stage. He unrolled a huge scroll and read from it to the audience, who enthusiastically interrupted quite often with cheers. Not understanding Arabic none of us knew what he was saying but we knew it was about us.
I found myself watching as the others walk into position and bend over for the stocks. I winced each time I saw them remove the cuffs from someone, because by this time my shoulders were sore. I was sure each of the others was just as sore. Somehow, I ended up last, and nervously walked to my place. As the cuffs fell away, my shoulders screamed in protest at the sudden movement. Before I could do anything to relieve the pain, I felt a hand forcing me down and I placed my neck in the depression in the bottom stock. My wrists fit nicely into the other slots and as the guard closed the top I found that I was grateful for the well-polished wood At least there were no splinters.
We were positioned in a rough square so that we could see each other. The design of the stocks prevented us from seeing anything behind us, something I had always found to almost as erotic as being blindfolded. Forgive me for saying this as I did not find it erotic then. I saw the others straining to see what was happening behind me on the stage, and suddenly knew that though I had been last in line, I would be first for what happened next.
There was a stinging blow across my ass and I yelped. I was being flogged, and not by a flogger that I had ever felt before. This one seemed to have rougher leather, and to have weights at the end of each individual thong. Whoever was wielding it must have been strong, putting everything he had into the blows. The pain quickly brought tears to my eyes, but soon I felt my body responding to the years of conditioning from BDSM play. I was getting excited!
The flogger continued to strike me, expertly wielded, moving from my ass up my back and then back again. The thongs were long enough to wrap partially around me and slap my stomach and my breasts. The man wielding the flogger even paid attention to my pussy, making sure that one blow fell there every time he got to my ass.
By then, I was panting a bit from the excitement. My throat was raw from the yelps. When the flogging stopped, I whimpered and almost begged for more.
I screamed for the first time as I felt a sharp sting across my upper thighs and heard a loud crack.
What was happening? Trying to think through the pain, I soon realized that the sensations I felt came from a whip. The pain was sharp and expertly applied to the sweet spot from my upper thighs to my ass. Occasionally, I felt a sting across my pussy and screamed louder.
The hardest thing for me to believe was how exciting this was for me. I had never experienced pain this intense, and the pleasure that commingled with it was almost intoxicating. I found myself again building toward orgasm as the whipping continued.
The tide quickly broke over me, and I had to concentrate to keep my knees from buckling, I knew better than to let that happen while in stocks. When I finished my orgasm, I realized that the whipping was over and that everyone there was cheering, because of how much I enjoyed it.
I knew my back was red from the flogger and the whip, and wondered if any of the liquid I felt trailing down my sides and legs was from blood.
The next thing I felt was a hand at my pussy. Whomever it was searched for my clit and pinching it expertly. Then I felt the first finger enter me. The probing continued expertly, and despite just having one of the most intensive orgasms of my life, I soon found myself responding. The hand continued to work. More fingers entered me. The hand was rough and demanding. Yet at the same time delicate. When I felt the whole hand inside me, I realized that the person back there had to be one of the female guards, because the hand was too small for a man.
She continued to use her hand on me. Her other hand began to work my clit. I built toward another orgasm. I heard the cheering of the crowd as they enjoyed the show. I then heard an almost musical laugh behind me and the fingers at my clit dropped away. I felt the hand withdrawing from my pussy. I tried to push myself onto the hand and whimpered with desire, but all I got for my efforts was a slap on the ass.
Tears ran down my face, from the mingled pleasure, frustration, and humiliation. I opened my eyes when I felt someone grab my jaw and force something inside my mouth. As I looked up, I realized that this woman had just been fisting me. I tried to beg her with my eyes. She only smiled as she buckled the gag into my mouth. I explored the gag with my tongue and discovered it was a ring gag. She put her hand under my nose and I smelled myself on her.
The next thing I saw was a large man walking behind Katy with a flogger.
He was about 6'4" and must have weighed at least 250 pounds, but he was built like a footballer, without an ounce of fat that I could see. He was wearing only a loincloth and a hood. I admired the muscles across his back as he loosened up before using the flogger on Katy. The muscles of his legs looked like cables embedded in the earth as he braced himself to swing. His forearm bunched like writhing snakes as he shifted his grip on the flogger. I even found myself admiring the sweat as it dripped from his bronzed shoulders and down his back. I wondered what he looked like under the hood he was wearing. Was he as handsome as he was buff? I do not think I had ever wanted a man as much as I wanted him at that moment, and I would have done anything for him.
Then I felt the first cock at my pussy. My eyes focused as a man stepped in front of me with his cock in his hand, and I knew the day had only begun. As I tasted the first unwashed cock, I heard Katy scream when the first strike of the flogger fell against her back.
