Cheryl's Passion Ch. 02

April teased me like that for hours (or perhaps it just seemed like hours) touching my thighs, my breasts, my flanks, my abs, my ribcage-pretty much every part of me except for my needy, throbbing loins.

Tears welled up in my eyes and silently rolled down my face as my desperate need for sexual release was denied again and again. My breathing came in labored, ragged gasps and my breasts rose and fell as April subjected my helpless, naked body to erotic torture.

At one point she spent several minutes playing with my nipples, rolling them between her thumbs and index fingers so aggressively and for such an extensive period of time, I was certain that I was going to orgasm just from nipple stimulation alone, but then April withdrew her fingers, took two steps back and said, "I'm going to leave you like that for now, but I'll be back at some point later today."

I groaned loudly and began to struggle against the shackles once again. My body was throbbing and desperately in need of physical contact. I whimpered and writhed as I watched April walk over to the staircase and escape from my line of sight. When she had left the basement and I was all alone, I began to sob once again.

If my legs hadn't been bound far apart, I could have rubbed my thighs together and perhaps found some relief that way, however the shackles on my ankles defeated that plan.

Tears rolled down my face once again as my sexual distress reached such levels that my nipples and clitoris throbbed with an unbearable ache. My breath came in heaving, laborious pants and I wondered how much longer April intended to make me suffer like this.

After what seemed like hours, April returned to the basement and I made weak, girlish sounds of relief, but when I could capture her once again in my line of sight, she wasn't alone.

At first I thought she might be with her mother, however, the look didn't match up. April's mother had long, golden blonde hair, that she wore pinned to the back of her head. The woman who was trailing behind April had a boyish haircut and it was sort of a dark chocolate brown color. Whoever was following behind April, it wasn't April's mother.

Reflexively, I tried to cover my naked body with my hands, but of course the shackles on my wrists prevented that. Whoever April had brought down with her was going to get an eyeful of my sweaty, naked, teenage body with my erect nipples and slick pubic lips making my sexual arousal painfully and humiliatingly obvious.

"Cheryl," my mistress said loudly, stepping in front of the other woman and filling up my field of vision, "You remember Coach Jenneke, don't you?"

Then April gracefully stepped aside and my mouth dropped open in disbelief as I saw my old track coach step forward. I had been hot and feverish with lust before, but now I felt my face grow even hotter with the embarrassment of my old track coach seeing me naked, with my legs spread wide open and my moist pubic slit indecently on display.

"Hello, Cheryl," Coach Jenneke said, her blissful grin growing more pronounced with every step, "I didn't think I was ever going to see you again. I certainly never suspected that I was going to get to see you naked like this."

"What," April asked, "Didn't the girls you coached ever shower after relay races, the 3,000 meter race or any of the other track events? I'm certain they must have gotten sweaty."

Coach Jenneke turned her attention away from me momentarily and engaged April to answer her questions.

"Sure, they showered," she replied, "But there were very strict rules that banned coaches, teachers and other school employees from being in the showers when students were naked. The only exception to that rule was if there was some sort of emergency...like if a student was having a seizure or something. So, I never went into the showers when April was naked."

"H-How do you two know each other?" I asked, when I could finally get my voice to work.

"Well, after you told me your track coach's name and where she worked," April said smiling mischievously, "And I knew that she was sexually attracted to you, I went to Fairwind High School and asked her if she was interested seeing you again and catching up on what you've done with your life since high school."

Coach Jenneke turned her attention back to me and added, "As soon as April said your name, she had my full attention."

"Apparently she never stopped thinking about you," April added, "You really made an impression on her."

I groaned as Coach Jenneke leisurely examined my helplessly spread naked body with undisguised erotic enjoyment and wondered how this could be any more humiliating.

"Why don't you reach out and touch her?" April asked my old track coach.

"Are you sure she won't mind?" Ms. Jenneke asked, looking somewhat dubious.

"She's here because she wants to know what it feels like to be owned and humiliated and punished," April replied, "She gets a sexual thrill from being helpless and unable to resist. Isn't that right, Cheryl?"

Of course it was right. It was totally true. Every night I fantasized about being stripped naked and abused by cruel, strong authoritative women, however those women had always been faceless and without any real identities. I never thought what it would be like to be humiliated and abused by a real person that I knew from high school.

I didn't say any of this out loud. Out loud all I said was, "Yes, Mistress. That's right."

"Wow," Coach Jenneke exclaimed, "I guess I can see why you turned me down to go see a concert. I suppose what I should have done was invite you over to my house to be my naked slave, so you could clean out my basement and my garage, followed by a really cruel and painful spanking afterwards."

Coach Jenneke's words stirred something inside of me and visions of being naked and on my knees, toiling in a dark, filthy garage while Coach Jenneke stood authoritatively over me, barking out orders and threats of punishment reignited my libido and drove away my feelings of embarrassment.

"I like that idea," April said, a devilish smile spreading across her face.

"That was really more of a joke than an idea," Coach Jenneke replied.

April touched Ms. Jenneke on the arm and said, "Ask her."

Coach Jenneke got a blank look on her face and then April elaborated, "Ask Cheryl if she'd be willing to come over to your house, do manual labor in the nude and get a severe spanking afterwards."

Coach Jenneke looked dubious, but she turned back to me and said, "Cheryl, what would you say if I invited you over to my house this Saturday and wanted you to strip naked, clean out my basement and garage and go over my knee for a cruel, painful spanking afterwards?"

"Yes, I'll do it," I blurted out enthusiastically before she'd actually finished asking her question. I was shamelessly eager to take her up on her offer. I know some submissives might have tried to act all calm and sophisticated, but I was like some sort of addict who couldn't get enough. I already had April dominating, humiliating and punishing me, but I would gladly submit to Ms. Jenneke as well.

"She's an eager little thing," April commented and Coach Jenneke readily agreed.

"Okay, Cheryl," Coach Jenneke said, "Saturday morning, eight o'clock. I'll expect you to be there on time. I'll give you the address when you're not naked and actually have pockets to carry stuff in."

I nodded and smiled at my former track coach. It would be humiliating and degrading, but I was looking forward to it. I had never fantasized about being Coach Jenneke's naked slave before, but I was very rapidly becoming excited about the idea now that April and Ms. Jenneke had planted the idea in my head.

"Cheryl's pain tolerance is very high," April advised, "So, when you say cruel and painful spanking you better mean it."

My former track coach arched an eyebrow and said, "How high?"

"Well, she hasn't graduated to whips or riding crops yet," April explained, "But if you use your bare hand or a leather belt on her bare bottom you can spank her as long and hard as you like. I prefer to use my hand. And I typically leave her ass and the backs of her thighs the color of raw hamburger by the time I'm done."

Ms. Jenneke looked dubious and then turned to me and asked, "Cheryl, is that true?"

"Oh yes," I said, nodding in agreement, "April usually walks me over to a mirror after a spanking so she can show me how red my bottom has become. She usually leaves it a burning-hot, reddish-pink color. She's not timid about corporal punishments."

There was much discussion between the three of us about the proper way to spank my bare bottom and Coach Jenneke eventually agreed that I would receive an over the knee spanking on Saturday that would leave my bottom and the back of my thighs an angry reddish-pink color, however, she insisted on me having a safe word.

April and I had never used safe words. We had always had an unspoken agreement that April was experienced enough and intelligent enough to know how much punishment I could take, and not go any further than that. Coach Jenneke didn't feel nearly as confident in her abilities as a disciplinarian and she insisted that I had to have a safe word, so I could stop her if things went too far.

The safe word she gave me was Marathon, however, I silently resolved not to use it. I wanted the spanking to be as scary and intense as possible.

Cheryl then placed a hand on Coach Jenneke's arm and said, "You've spent an awful lot of time talking to Cheryl, but you still haven't actually touched her. Don't you want to?"

"Of course I do," Coach Jenneke insisted, "I just got caught up in the discussion about Cheryl's submissive inclinations and-."

Ms. Jenneke trailed off and then finally said, "Never mind. None of that's important now."

Then suddenly Coach Jenneke's hands were on my firm, naked breasts. She cupped them, lifting them up slightly as if weighing them, squeezed them and then stoked my nipples with her thumbs. I moaned as her stroking of my nipples suddenly excited them and caused them to stiffen again and send tingles from my breasts and down to my loins.

Coach Jenneke sighed about half a second after I began to moan and soon the basement was filled with the sounds of feminine lust and carnal desire.

Still holding possessively onto my naked breasts, Coach Jenneke leaned forwards and kissed me on the lips. She kissed me while rolling my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. I moaned as my nipples were already ultra-sensitive and her fingers were stimulating them even more, however, Coach Jenneke's mouth acted like a gag, muffling the sounds of my girlish moans.

I moaned and made small eager sounds into Coach Jenneke's mouth as she kissed me deeply and leisurely. She seemed to be very reluctant to surrender possession of my mouth and when she broke from the first kiss to come up for air, it only lasted for a few seconds.

Then my former track coach was kissing me again. She plunged her tongue deep into my mouth. Conquering my mouth, making me hers. Occasionally she would play rough with my nipples, yanking on them painfully or pinching them, but always when her tongue was deep in my mouth, so my yelps and gasps of pain were muffled.

When Coach Jenneke finally stopped pulling and pinching on my nipples, she also stopped kissing me and took a step back. We were both breathing heavily at this point and Coach Jenneke had a huge, euphoric smile on her face.

"Feel her now," April advised my former track coach, "I'll bet she's soaking wet."

Still breathing heavily, Coach Jenneke looked at me doubtfully, as if asking for my permission.

"Go ahead," I said, breathing even more heavily than her, "I want you to. And even if I didn't, there's no way I could stop you. I'm naked and shackled wide open, spread-eagle. My genitals are totally exposed. You can do anything you want to me."

Impossible as it seemed, Coach Jenneke's smile grew even wider and then her questing right hand soon found itself in between my thighs. I looked down and watched with rapt attention as the older woman's hand squeezed the plumpness of my swollen vulva. Her hand came away soaking wet with my sexual juices.

"Would you like to finger her to orgasm?" April asked, "The sounds she makes when she's writhing in orgasm are precious."

Coach Jenneke nodded eagerly, not seeming to trust her ability to verbalize her answer. She was in a primal-space, where everything was wanton, carnal instinct. Words were no longer appropriate. Only the touch of one warm body against another was important now.

"Go nuts," April advised the older woman. "Impale her and thrust your fingers deeply inside her again and again. She's desperate for you to touch her."