Cheryl's Passion Ch. 02

"Oh really? Such as?"

April rambled off a list of things she wanted to install in the basement. More iron rings embedded in the wall sounded reasonable, a large mirror sounded acceptable, but my mom shot April down when she started asking to install things like a pillory, a whipping post and a trapeze bar that attached to a motorized cable from the ceiling.

"Other people do come to visit from time to time," my mother reminded April. I can't have them coming down to the basement and seeing a whipping post or a pillory. They'll think that I'm some sort of crazy serial killer who keeps people chained up in my basement before I kill them. I'm not having my reputation ruined just because my daughter is going through a phase."

"A phase?" I spat.

"Oh, this is no mere phase," April insisted, "I was much harsher with Cheryl than I'd normally be with a B&D novice. Her punishments were quite painful, especially for someone as inexperienced as she is, however, she wanted me to keep going. I gave her several opportunities to back out and stop the session, but she was too eager and passionate to quit. No matter how painful I made things for her, she chose for the session to continue."

April paused and then added, "This isn't a phase. This is an all-consuming passion for her. She's totally dedicated to it."

"Is she right, Cheryl?" my mother asked me, "Is this an all-consuming passion for you now?"

"It is," I told my mother, "It's all I ever think about. My desire to be helpless, humiliated and punished is intense. It's like the way you feel about your career."

My mother was silent for a long time, apparently mulling over what April and I had just said. My mother was the sort of person who chose her words carefully. Even once she was certain of her decision, she'd want to word it properly.

"Fine. It's not a phase," my mother finally conceded, "But you still cannot turn my basement into an Inquisitional dungeon. You'll just have to find a way to dominate my daughter without installing pillories and other bondage devices in my home."

April's face remained calm and thoughtful as she considered my mother's words. April and my mother were apparently both intelligent, thoughtful women and both of them considered their options and chose their words carefully before speaking.

"What if I take Cheryl to my home for her punishments then?" April asked. "I'm reasonably certain my mother will let me make the changes I need to our basement at home."

"Well, that would be ideal," my mother said, her smile almost a smirk, "The less I'm involved with my daughter's sex life, the more comfortable I'll feel. Also, Cheryl is eighteen. She's a legal adult. If you want to take Cheryl to your home for erotic punishments, the person you should be talking to is her. She can make her own decisions about her own sex life."

"I'm all for it," I told April when she looked over at me, her eyes expectant.

So, it was settled.

April spoke to her mother and began to make arrangements to turn their basement into a punishment room for me. April's mother insisted on meeting me before the changes were made. It was going to cost quite a bit of time and money to change their basement for me. Also, I was now having sex with April, and April's mom rather preferred to meet the people her daughter was having sex with.

* * * * * * * * * *

Christina Ladd was sophisticated, well-dressed and well-groomed. I guessed her age to be around forty, although she was quite good-looking for her age. She had a slender waist, tailored black pants, a tailored blazer and she was tall and blonde, just like her daughter.

Mrs. Ladd insisted on meeting me, without having April around. She didn't want her opinion of me to be influenced by anything that April did or said.

"Sit down, Cheryl," Mrs. Ladd said warmly, "Let's have a friendly chat."

I sat in a comfortable chair in Mrs. Ladd's living room. She sat on the couch. Her smile seemed warm and inviting, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It was the sort of smile you give people when you're trying to be polite to a stranger, but you're not certain you can trust them yet.

"Sure," I said, trying my best to sound friendly and cooperative, "What should we chat about?"

"Let's chat about my daughter," Mrs. Ladd suggested, "She's our mutual interest. I know how I feel about my daughter. How do you feel about her?"

"April?" I asked, "She's amazing. She's tall, she's beautiful, she's imposing, and she's self-confident...even a little bit intimidating. Sort of like one of those Norse warrior women from Norse mythology."

"You mean Valkyries?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes, that's it! Valkyries! Exactly!"

"So, your main observations about my daughter is that she's a tall, blonde woman who is physically intimidating and reminds you of the Valkyries from Norse mythology. Is that all you noticed about her?"

"I'm eighteen years old and she just recently took my virginity," I protested, "Did you really think I'd notice anything about her beyond the sexual at this point?"

Mrs. Ladd frowned at that briefly, but then the warm and inviting smile came back.

"So, your interest in my daughter is purely sexual?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, "Is that wrong? Were you expecting something else?"

"It's not wrong exactly," the older woman replied calmly, "It might have helped if you had more in common with April than simply your mutual prurient interest in each other."

"What? Why? I'm eighteen. At my age, sex is usually enough to make a relationship work."

Mrs. Ladd uncrossed and then re-crossed her legs. Then she calmly disposed of my question. "My daughter has already had five girls over to the house, in the past two years whose interest in her was purely sexual. Not a single one of them has lasted beyond six weeks."

I sat there, surprised by Mrs. Ladd's revelation. I had hardly expected that a gorgeous creature like April could have problems holding onto a lover.

"Um, I didn't know that," I finally responded.

"April is a very beautiful, intelligent girl, but she's a cruel little witch to the girls she has sex with. At least one of them stormed out of here in tears and now refuses to talk to April anymore."

"In tears?" I asked, "Do you know why?"

Mrs. Ladd shook her head in negation, but added, "I've seen April's collection of whips, straps and riding crops, so I can make a pretty decent guess."

"Oh," I said.

"Does that frighten you?" she asked.

I took a few seconds to consider my words before answering. Perhaps I was learning from April's example.

"It is frightening," I said to Mrs. Ladd, "But the fear is part of what makes sex with your daughter so delicious. It adds something. It makes my heart beat faster and sends my pulse racing."

"Oh," Mrs. Ladd replied calmly, "So, you're one of them."

"One of who?" I asked, somewhat confused by her response.

"Never mind, it's not important," the older woman assured me, "I'll tell April she can get started making changes to the basement right away. I'm sure she'll be pleased."

* * * * * * * * * *

It took over a week to get everything delivered and installed down in the Ladd family's basement, but when all the hard work was over, it was worth it. The place didn't exactly look like Torquemada's dungeon, but it was kind of close.

There was a pillory near the southwest corner of the basement. There was a whipping post near the north wall. There were heavy chains with metal shackles embedded into the north wall for shackling my wrists and ankles in spread-eagle bondage and there was a large mirror on the south wall, so I could see just how submissive and adorable I looked when I was helpless and being punished by April.

Even though all of the bondage devices April bought were supposedly brand new, they had been designed to look as if they were at least one-hundred years old. There was a look and feeling of age to them, as if they had been used to make hundreds of innocent girl helpless over the decades. They looked serious and intimidating.

"So, which one would you like to try out first?" April asked me.

"I get to choose?" I asked, smiling. My heart beat like a happy hummingbird in my chest and I examined the various bondage devices in the room like a kid in a candy store.

I eventually made my way over to the shackles on the north wall. I placed my hands on them lovingly and fingered the chains that held them to the wall. They seemed so much heavier and more solid, more intimidating than handcuffs. You could feel the authority that had been forged into the metal.

"Okay, it looks like you've made your choice," April said, smiling, "Now get out of those clothes and we'll take those shackles for a test drive!"

I squealed with girlish delight and shed my clothes with hurried enthusiasm. When I was naked, April dropped all my clothing into a steel lock box and secured the lid with an iron padlock. The padlock clicked shut with a sound of finality.

I stood naked against the wall and eyed the lockbox where April had just locked up all my clothes. I felt a chill when I heard the lock click, and the point of the whole ritual did not escape me. I was naked and barefoot and April had custody of all my clothes. I'd remain naked until April decided otherwise.

Then turning to me, April said, "Okay, naked girl, get your ass up against that wall and raise your hands."

April then placed her hand between my naked breasts and pushed me back into the cinderblock wall. I obediently raised my hands, and April then took my wrists one at a time and clicked the shackles closed on my waiting wrists.

"Spread your legs," my mistress ordered and then knelt on the ground so that she could secure my ankles to the floor shackles.

"Now, look at yourself in the mirror, slave-girl," my mistress ordered when I was naked and bound spread-eagle to the north wall in her newly equipped dungeon.

The girl I saw in the mirror looked like a slave from one of my masturbatory fantasies. She was naked of course, her legs bound far apart, making her clean-shaven public lips clearly visible and available for anyone to touch. Even at a distance I could see the glistening wetness on the naked girl's swollen pubic lips.

With her arms raised, her breasts were lifted up and on display. Her excited breathing caused her breasts to rise and fall, calling even more attention to her exposed, youthful breasts. She was so naked, exposed, helpless and vulnerable, it was quite obvious anyone could do anything they wanted to her.

The sight of my own reflection, swept up my libido and my fevered, sexual imagination so much that my breathing became even more labored and in the mirror I could see the rising and falling of the bound girl's breasts become even more dramatic. Her stomach muscles also become much more pronounced and visible.

"I look like some sort of virgin sacrifice to a pagan god," I finally said, my voice sounding odd and unfamiliar as my breathing had become ragged.

April smiled as laughed at my comment and responded, "It's too late for you to be a virgin sacrifice, my love! That ship sailed some time ago!"

Then she took three steps towards me, she raised her hand up so that it could gather up my chin. When she had my chin firmly, yet tenderly in her grasp she lifted my face and forced me to look her in the eye.

"Of course, you could still be a sacrifice," she added, "A willing sacrifice to my cruel appetites."

I looked into April's beautiful, intense blue eyes and my heart sped up. Her words of cruel authority, her beautiful girlish face, the vulnerable fix April had bound me into, it all combined into a delicious fear that fueled a pulsing fire in my loins.

"Be cruel to me, Mistress," I said and then April leaned forward as if to kiss me.

I opened my mouth to receive her lips and tongue and then suddenly the mood was interrupted April's mother.

"April, have you had duplicate keys made for all the shackles and padlocks that go with your little dungeon?"

"Mom," April snapped at her mother, "Does this look like a good time to be asking me questions?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, April," Mrs. Ladd said sarcastically, "By all means, let's wait until you've lost the only keys you have, and we have to call a locksmith to get your naked sweetheart out of wrist and ankle shackles before we discuss the importance of having duplicate keys made. I'm sure you'd love to explain to a balding, overweight, fifty-year old man why you have a naked girl chained up in your basement."

"Okay, Mom," April said after a heavy, frustrated sigh, "You've made your point. No. I haven't had any duplicate keys made."

Mother and daughter stared at each other, while I felt uncomfortable and humiliatingly exposed. I had never expected that April's mom would ever see me naked and shackled like this.

"Give me the keys," Mrs. Ladd said, "Archer's Lock & Security is less than a mile away. I can be back with duplicate keys in about twenty minutes."

April argued with her mom at first, but once she realized that giving her mom the keys would get her out of the house for a little while, April relented and handed over all the keys to her dungeon toys.

"She's coming right back, right?" I asked somewhat worried. I was naked and chained spread-eagle to the basement wall. I didn't want April's mother to drive all the way to Bakersfield and leave me chained to the wall for twelve hours.

"Don't worry about my mom," April reassured me, "She's boring, but she's dependable. If she says she'll be back in twenty minutes with duplicate keys, she'll be back in twenty minutes with duplicate keys."

Then April took up one of my defenseless breasts in her hand and said, "So, the question is, what shall we do for the next twenty minutes?"

Before I could answer, April had her hands on both of my breasts. I gasped as she squeezed my soft, vulnerable flesh hard and then cruelly pinched my nipples.

My nipples burned with the pain of April's cruel fingers, but then she attached her mouth onto my left breast and her girlish mouth sucked on the nipple. Erotic tingling sensations sprang to life and spread from my nipple all the way down to my nether regions.

I gasped as April fed hungrily on my breast, sucking hard at my naked, sensitive flesh and stabbing her wicked tongue at my hard, sensitive nipple.

Waves of intense desire spread through my naked, helplessly bound body as April took possession of my nipple, sucking it for all she was worth and leaving me panting with sexual need. Sometimes April's small cruel teeth would bite into the flesh of my sensitive, blood-engorged nipple, making me cry out in pain, but then April would go back to using her lips and tongue to play with my nipples and leave me in a frenzy of feverish lust.

Eventually, April released my left breast from the mischievous attentions of her mouth and tongue and began to lavish her erotic talents on my right breast.

I struggled helplessly against my shackles, not that I truly desired to be free, however, my poor clit was so swollen and hard that it ached. I was soaking wet between my legs, but April wouldn't touch me there. She just teased me and brought my sexual need to a fever pitch, but refused to do anything to bring me to climax.

"Mistress, please," I begged, "If you're going to get me so overstimulated, please, at least bring me all the way to orgasm."

April raised her face up from my right breast and looked up at me. My nipples were red and erect. They were still wet from April's mischievous lips. In that helpless moment, I realized my nipples belonged more to April than they did to me.

"Slaves aren't supposed to complain," April informed me, looking up at me with those intense, crystal-blue eyes, "If I want to keep you painfully on the edge of a powerful orgasm and deny you orgasmic release for hours, you'll just have to endure the misery and torment of denial."

She playfully licked one of my hypersensitive nipples and then added, "Now, I don't want to hear any more begging from you today. A good slave endures her torment quietly and without trying to tell her mistress what to do."

"Yes, Mistress," I said with great difficulty. I closed my eyes tightly, curled my hands into fists and strained against the shackles. I felt hot and feverish with sexual need, but I intended to be a good and obedient slave, so I resolved not to complain.

April continued to use her mouth on my breasts and nipples, teasing my nipples until they were so hard, erect and throbbing that they ached. Then she pulled back a little bit and blew softly on each nipple. My nipples were wet with her saliva and so swollen and sensitive that even the soft blow of her breath made me whimper and squirm.

"Did you feel that?" April asked playfully, "Yes, I think you're deliciously responsive right about now. Can you guess what happens next?"

I was covered in sweat and my chest was heaving as my breath came in loud pants and gasps. I didn't seem to be capable of forming words anymore. I understood April's question, but wasn't sure of how to answer. And even if I could find the words, I didn't trust my voice anymore. All of my blood seemed to be centered in my sensitive nipples and my swollen clit. It didn't seem as if there was enough blood left in my larynx to allow it function.

And then it all became a moot point, as a humiliating interruption made it unnecessary for me to reply.

"I'm back," called out Mrs. Ladd's voice from the top of the stairs, "It took a little bit longer than I thought, but you've got duplicate keys now!"

I could hear the sound of Mrs. Ladd's high heels on the staircase as she got closer and closer. Eventually she stood in front of me and handed the keys to her daughter.

I gritted my teeth and stifled a moan. I was in desperate sexual distress and it was humiliating for Mrs. Ladd to see me this way. Why couldn't mother and daughter have taken care the keys yesterday? Why did they have to wait until I was naked, chained up, feverish with lust and my clit fully erect, my whole body trembling with desire?

"I'm going to keep one set of keys in my bedroom," Mrs. Ladd informed her daughter, "I think you should keep one set in your bedroom and another set of keys down here in the basement."

I bit back on the sobbing that I felt growing inside of me and tried not to attract attention to myself, however when April turned her back to me and went in search of a place to secure her keys, Mrs. Ladd glanced briefly in my direction, but her facial expression was one of indifference. Here I was, a naked, teenage girl, chained up in her basement, my sex soaking wet and leaking juices, my legs, shaking and trembling and her face was impassive, as if she saw this sort of thing every day.

Once the key situation was tended to, Mrs. Ladd turned and left the basement without a backward glance. She didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to me. It was like I was a piece of furniture.

Soon I forgot all about Mrs. Ladd, as April's hand slid over one of my thighs and between my legs. She caressed my inner thighs right where they met up with my pelvis, she caressed my buttocks and the flesh just above my throbbing sex. And yet, she maddeningly and deliberately avoided my wet slit, teasing me, knowing that I desperately needed her to touch me there.

"Aaaahhhh," I gasped, desperate for my sex to be touched, but April refused to do that which I most desperately desired.

My heart was thudding in my throat until all I could hear was my blood pulsing in my head. I was feverish with sexual heat and I was soaking wet between my legs, yet April still hadn't touched my needy sex. If I hadn't been shackled to the wall, I would have impaled my pussy with my fingers and frantically fingered myself to orgasm, but the metal shackled around my wrists were strong, sturdy and very effectively prevented me from using my hands for anything.