Cheryl's Passion Ch. 05.0

"That presumptuous brat," Mrs. Ladd angrily spat, "Well, I can be very insistent too! This is still my house, and I will not have my sex life dictated to me by a child! Do, you hear me, April?"

She shouted loud enough that April could most likely hear most of what she said, but there was no audible response to Mrs. Ladd's words.

"Technically, she's a legal adult," I said, coming to my mistress's defense, "So, am I. I'm eighteen. I'm old enough to vote. I can enter into legally binding contracts. I can get married. I can serve on a jury. I'm not a child anymore."

"And I'm twice your age," Mrs. Ladd shot back, "I'm thirty-six. Do you know what they call women my age that have sex with teenagers?"

I stood there somewhat dumbfounded. I didn't realize that there was a word for women like that.

"They're called cradle robbers," Mrs. Ladd said, answering her own question, "I'm a respected woman in Fairhaven. I'm a respected medical doctor. I have an enviable reputation. What would happen to that reputation, if it was blabbed all over town that I have sex with girls who are half my age?"

I held my hands out, palms up, trying to look as harmless as possible and said, "It's not like I would tell anybody about it, Mistress. I know how to keep my mouth shut. Just think of all the secrets I'm keeping already! My bondage and discipline sex-life with your daughter...how many people do you think know about that?"

The look on Mrs. Ladd's face morphed from angry into tired in about one second. She padded over to where I was standing, and looked like she was about to sit down on her bed, when she noticed the shackle locked tightly around my ankle.

"She bound you to my bedframe?" Mrs. Ladd asked incredulously.

"April didn't want you to throw me out of your bedroom," I explained, "So, she took extreme measures."

"Cheryl, you're actually a very sweet and delightful girl," Mrs. Ladd said sounding very tired and defeated, "But you're also very young. I'm old enough to be your mother. Can you even begin to fathom just how awkward and troublesome a sexual relationship between two very different.."

The next move I made my sounds like cheating; and maybe it was; but April had made it very clear that I would suffer horrible consequences if I didn't seduce her mother, so I wasn't overly worried about playing fair.

I took Mrs. Ladd's face in my hands, leaned in close and kissed her on the lips. She stopped talking in mid-sentence, and at first, she just stiffened up. She didn't push me away, but she didn't kiss me back.

At least not at first.

Even though she wasn't warming up to me, I didn't give up. I kissed her on the mouth, I kissed her on the neck, I kissed her on the collarbone and I kissed her on the dip between her neck and her collarbone.

Mrs. Ladd just stood there and allowed me to kiss her without saying anything. Before too long she began to make barely audible sounds that strongly resembled moaning. And after several minutes of this, I heard her whisper, "I'm going to hell for this. I just know I'm going to hell."

And then, she finally did push me away. I felt a sense of defeat and wondered what tactic I should try next. Mrs. Ladd then walked straight to her bedroom door. I assumed this meant that she was going to April's room to lecture her daughter, but instead, she shut the door and locked it.

"If we're going to do this," Mrs. Ladd explained flatly, "I'm going to have some privacy, no more nonsense from my daughter tonight. No more audiences, no photos, no videos, no invasion of my privacy."

"Yes, Mistress," I said in timid agreement.

"We're just two consenting adults," she continued, "No games, no audiences, no humiliations, no cruelty. I've never been into any of that. Not even when I was your age."

"Yes, Mistress," I said, timidly agreeing, once again.

"And this is private," she said firmly, "You can't say a word of this to your mother, or to your friends on Facebook, to your friends at the gym, to any of your coworkers, not to anybody!

I nodded timidly in submissive agreement and promised I wouldn't tell a soul. This was private just between her and me.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this," she said, and then she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and blindly dropped one hand on my shoulder, as if she needed to lean on me for balance.

"Okay, Cheryl," she said, "If you still wanna do this, get back to kissing me...before I change my mind."

I wrapped my arms lovingly around Mrs. Ladd and fused my lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in closer and moaning into my mouth. Shortly after that she began to whimper. Next thing I knew, she was undoing the belt on her bathrobe. I couldn't help but notice that her hands were trembling as she undid the knot. Seriously? Did the thought of having sex with me actually make her nervous?

That thought was soon chased out of my head. As soon as Mrs. Ladd's robe was lying in a heap on the floor, she pulled me close and pressed her naked breasts close to mine.

She was feverishly hot, and holding her tight was beginning to make me feel overheated. Her lips were pressed close to my ear, and I could hear her panting. I thought that was unusual. We had just started foreplay. Nobody pants during foreplay, do they? Then again, Mrs. Ladd was way older than any of my previous sexual partners. April and Prue were both teenagers. Coach Jenneke was like twenty-five or twenty-six. Mrs. Ladd was thirty-six. Did people her age pant during foreplay?

"Are you okay, Mistress?" I asked.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Mrs. Ladd replied, her voice sounding strained, "It's just been a very, very long time, and I'm kind of emotionally overwhelmed. You need to give me a minute."

I wrapped one arm tightly around her waist and gently stroked her back. April had said that her mother had gone without sex for over three years now. I suppose after a long dry spell like that, having a beautiful, naked teenager throwing herself at you, giving her naked body to you with no strings attached, might be a very emotional, heady experience.

"You're incredible," Mrs. Ladd gasped, her voice still sounding strained, "Your skin is so smooth and perfect, your muscles are so firm, your abs are so flat and tight! Your butt is the absolute perfect size and shape! And so resilient! It's like something from out of a Victoria's Secret lingerie catalog!"

"Um, thank you, Mistress," I said, feeling somewhat surprised by all the compliments. April had been training me as a slave-girl, and slave-girls don't normally get showered with praise or flattery.

"I'm taking advantage of you," she said, apprehensively, "I shouldn't be doing this. I swear, I know better than take advantage of a girl half my age."

She started to push me away, and then I was suddenly struck with an idea. Mrs. Ladd hadn't had a lover in her bed in over three years. She was definitely good-looking enough to get a lover, and the feverish temperature of her skin told me she was still capable of feeling lust. Maybe she hadn't had a lover in over three years, because she had lost all confidence that was capable of getting a lover. Maybe she didn't think that she was beautiful anymore.

I was eighteen and even women my age get insecure about their bodies. For women Mrs. Ladd's age, it was probably even worse. I had a higher metabolism, so it was easier for me to stay slender and fit and make sure my butt didn't look big in yoga leggings. Mrs. Ladd was fast approaching forty, so her metabolism would be slower, and keeping a firm, slender body wouldn't be so easy.

It's true that I had better muscle-tone and tight abs than she did, however, Mrs. Ladd had larger breasts and poutier lips. And most of the time, she carried herself with a great deal of strength, self-confidence and authority. For a submissive like me, all of those things were attractive qualities in a lover.

"Mistress," I said respectfully, and wrapping my arms tightly around her upper body, "You may be twice my age, but I still find you very attractive."

Mrs. Ladd disdainfully avoided eye contact with me and said, "April probably told you to say that."

I stroked her still damp blonde hair tenderly and said, "No, it's true. You look amazing."

"Seriously?" she asked, "Compared to you and my daughter?"

She shook her head as if to reject everything I said, but still I persisted. I had to convince her that she was beautiful. It was probably the only way to seduce my way into her bed.

"April and I both have dancer's legs," I said, "Yours look more like runner's legs. It's a different look, but still sexy. Also, your breasts are larger than mine or April's, so you've got us both beat there. And you've got high cheekbones and luscious lips, that were made for kissing. Honestly, it's like you've got Angelina Jolie's lips!"

Mrs. Ladd visibly relaxed in my arms, and leaned in closer to me, practically melting into my arms.

"Seriously?" she asked, "You think I've got lips like Angelina Jolie?"

"You look like Angelina Jolie in a lot of ways," I assured her, "I mean you don't have any of her tattoos, and your hair is blonde, but you've got her lips, her cheekbones and her hourglass figure. If your daughter hadn't gotten to me first, I would have been proud to have you be the woman that took my virginity."

Mrs. Ladd looked intently into my eyes and softly asked, "You really mean that, don't you?"

I nodded in agreement and smiled, "Yes, I really do. I'm being totally honest with you. You look totally delicious."

Apparently, that was totally the right thing to say, and I was immediately rewarded with a kiss.

Not just any kiss, this kiss was filled with passion and heat. Mrs. Ladd's tongue probed my mouth and caressed my tongue in a way that made me moan. And as we kissed, Mrs. Ladd's hands roamed around my body, caressing my back, my waist, my shoulders and finally grasping my sore buttocks and kneading them, grasping them, fondling them, exploring the furrow in between and stroking the delicious line that separated my buttocks from the backs of my thighs.

When we broke from the kiss, I was panting. So was Mrs. Ladd, but she had a blissful, triumphant smile on her face. She looked vigorous and energized. She sighed contentedly, and I suddenly thought that April's idea wasn't so horrible after all. We hadn't gotten beyond kissing and heavy petting yet, and Mrs. Ladd already looked ten years younger!

Much to my surprise, Mrs. Ladd grabbed me and pushed me down onto her bed. Then she spread me out, face up, my legs far apart and my arms out to the sides. It was a very vulnerable position, every inch of me was exposed and available to her.

"Just hold still, like that," Mrs. Ladd said in an enthusiastic whisper, "I want to explore every inch of you."

And she did, her hands and her fingertips traveled all across my naked body, smoothly feeling their way across my upper thighs and inner thighs, just narrowly missing my needy, wet, throbbing sex. Then she lovingly ran her hands across the smooth surface of my flat stomach and sides. Of course, it was inevitable that she'd want to touch my breasts and feel them in her hands. She spent a great deal of time cupping them, kneading them, playfully tracing circles around my areolas and gently rolling my sensitive, erect nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. She rolled my poor nipples into overly sensitive, hard nubs that ached for more, demanding attention.

I moaned and trembled as my body temperature rose into a feverish heat. April, Prue and all the women I'd seen tonight had been stimulating my naked body for hours. I was overwhelmed with sexual heat and desperately wanted my pussy to be stuffed full and roughly used so that I could finally cum, but Mrs. Ladd was going to make me wait.

My public lips were very visible, plump and glistening with moisture, but Mrs. Ladd ignored those, while she explored every other part of my body, running her hands across my calves, my obliques, my pelvic bone, my ribcage, my armpits, my collarbone, my throat, everywhere except my throbbing, desperately needy loins.

I squirmed and moaned and whimpered, but Mrs. Ladd took her time.

"A body this perfect doesn't come my way every day," Mrs. Ladd said as she continued to explore my naked flesh, "I need to savor every inch of it."

And she did.

After she was done exploring my body with her hands, she then proceeded to do the same exact thing with her lips and her tongue. She left dozens of soft kisses on my inner thighs, she sucked vigorously on my nipples and traced delicate circles around my areolas with her tongue. Her erotic attentions to my naked body sent my blood racing and caused my loins to throb with urgent need. My nipples and my clitoris were both so hard, swollen and erect that they ached.

"Mistress, please," I pleaded, my voice filled with desperation, I was delirious with sexual need. Could she not see that in my eyes? Could she not see the fluids overflowing from my wet, throbbing sex? Couldn't she see my painfully hard and erect nipples? She was driving me into madness, building up such a powerful orgasm, sending my heart racing, making me delirious with sexual heat, but never allowing me to reach orgasm.

"I was hoping to take my time," Mrs. Ladd whispered, "Your pink, shaved vulva, with your swollen labia so exposed and available, they looked so sweet. I was planning on saving them for last, saving them for my dessert."

I could barely hear her voice as this point. My heart was thudding in my throat and I could barely hear anything over the sound of my hot, feverish blood throbbing inside my head.

"My darling Cheryl, your exquisite thighs, your firm breasts, you pink swollen nipples, they were all delicious," Mrs. Ladd purred, "But this splendid pink flower of yours, that should be the sweetest of all."

She placed her hands firmly on my inner thighs and pushed my legs even further apart. I took ballet lessons for years, so I'm quite flexible, and Mrs. Ladd was able to spread my legs wide apart, until I was practically doing the splits.

Mrs. Ladd thrust her face into my loins and her pink tongue plunged into me, spearing into the furrow between my swollen labia and deep into my wet, pulsing sex. And while her tongue was deep inside of me, a part of her face rubbed up repeatedly against my swollen clitoris.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh," I screamed as the orgasm that had been building in intensity deep within my loins finally exploded and I climaxed uncontrollably, writhing on the bed, my back arching, my legs twitching and jerking, my thrashing from side to side as a rippling, thundering, pelvis-fracturing climax sent my mind reeling, and left me almost mindless. I was no longer a teenage girl with a job, friends and family. I was a naked, sweating body with overstimulated nerve endings that pulsed and throbbed with one bone-crushing orgasm after another.

I screamed and whimpered and gasped shamelessly as Mrs. Ladd forced one staggering orgasm after another from my poor, overstimulated body. I panted and whimpered and waited for it end. Dear God, how long can an orgasmic climax last?

When it was all over, my eyes had welled up with tears, I was covering in a fine sheen of sweat and I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. My breasts heaved up and down as I continued to breath heavily, and when I finally had enough breath in my lungs to speak, I said, "Mistress, you detonated my clit like an atom bomb. I've never had an orgasm that intense before. How did you do that?"

"I'm a gynecologist, remember?" she replied, "I know a woman's genitals better than I know my own name. I know tricks I haven't even tried on you yet. I could easily rip two of three more orgasms out of you, if you'd like."

She was smiling playfully when she said it, but I still felt a sense of panic. My sex was unbelievably sensitive after an orgasm like that, and I didn't even want Mrs. Ladd touching me down there again, until I had had plenty of time to recover.

Luckily for me, Mrs. Ladd gave me all the time I needed.

When I was rested up, we went at it again. The next time out, I was the one who did all the work.

Another difference I discovered between April and her mom, was how they groomed their vulva. April had hers shaved completely bare, whereas her mother's vulva was covered in a thick forest of blonde pubic hair.

Of course, if she really hadn't had sex in over three years, she might not see the need. I mean...if you don't expect anybody else is ever going to see your pubic area, why go through all the trouble of trimming, waxing or shaving it? It can actually be quite a time-consuming chore.

Having my ankle shackled made some sexual positions somewhat awkward and difficult, but April's mother and I worked around it, and we both stayed up past our normal bedtime, tonguing and fingering each other to orgasm until very late. It was well past midnight when we finally stopped, and that was only because we were utterly spent, exhausted and we fell asleep, naked and in each other's arms.

And while I slept, I dreamt of April and her mother.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was standing naked on the athletic field of my old high school. It was during Summer break, so there were no students there, but a lot of the teachers had shown up to witness my humiliation.

They had erected a whipping post on the athletic field. A heavy iron ring was affixed to the whipping post, near the top. And my wrists were tied securely to the iron ring, by means of some very tight ropes.

They were bound far enough above my head so that I could never reach them. No matter how I danced and writhed, the ropes would keep my poor wrists helplessly wedded to the whipping post.

I couldn't remember what I had done to deserve punishment, however I did remember that slavery was now legal in the United States again, due to Donald Trump signing legislation that basically overturned the thirteenth amendment to the U.S. Constitution, and now I was legally the property of April Ladd and her mother.

I rested my head against the solid wood of the post. A long line of yellow and black tape separated my helpless nudity from the large audience of teachers and school administrators, however they were close enough that they could easily ogle my naked breasts and my exposed bottom. Some of them were already taking photos of my slender, teenage body with their iPhones and digital cameras. If my hands weren't bound, I'd be tempted to use them to cover my breasts, but they'd thought of that. Apparently at Fairwind High School they knew how to punish delinquent slaves properly.

Suddenly Mrs. Ladd was standing to my left. The contrast between her status and mine was painfully obvious. She was wearing a fashionable white sundress that concealed the shape of her body from her breasts down to her knees. She was also wearing a pair of expensive Italian leather boots and a silver necklace with a heart-shaped, silver locket. Meanwhile, I was naked, barefoot and utterly bereft of jewelry. Slaves never wear jewelry. There's some sort of law that prohibits slaves from owning any property, therefore they can't own earrings, bracelets, lockets or any other form of jewelry to decorate themselves with.

Mrs. Ladd's status was much higher than mine, however she still had feelings for me. She looked at my bound wrists and the dismayed look on my face, and said, "Are you all right, darling?"

I fidgeted in my bonds and tried to calm my fear. It wouldn't be quite so bad if we didn't have an audience of dozens of my former teachers. When I was only slightly younger, these teachers all had to treat me with patience and polite respect. Now, they got to ogle my naked body and listen to me scream as I was cruelly punished. If I wasn't bound to this whipping post, I'm sure I'd be using my hands to cover my naked breasts and running in the opposite direction to evade the lecherous gazes of my former teachers. I tried not to think about any of that, and gave Mrs. Ladd the bravest look I could manage.