Cheryl's Passion Ch. 06

My pussy throbbed and my whole body tingled and became feverishly hot, as Diana rubbed her hands across my naked skin, but I tried to hide my arousal from the four clothed women that were watching me. As far as they knew, I was just a nude model. As far as they knew, I was just doing this for the money. There was no reason for them to know that I had three lesbian mistresses at home that chained me up and sexually abused me. They also didn't need to know that I adored being exposed, punished and humiliated. We should just keep this professional, right?

Diana's face and body language didn't give any indications that she thought about this as sexual at all. Her whole demeanor seemed to be that of workplace professionalism. I was overcome with a sexual fever, and I could feel a wet throb of sexual desire in between my legs, but Diana was just a methodical woman, trying to apply sunblock to a model's skin, so that she didn't burn or peel during a photoshoot.

Diana didn't miss a spot, working the lotion evenly into the flesh of my tight abs, my firm thighs, my hips, my calves, and my buttocks. She even worked her hand deep into the tight furrow between my buttocks and massaged a generous amount of lotion into that hidden crevice.

I wasn't expecting Diana's hand to work its way into there, and gasped as I felt her fingers worm their way into such an intimate and hidden place.

Then, she proceeded to methodically massage the lotion into the exposed flesh of my perineum and my vulva. My pubic lips were swollen and soaked with my own juices at this point, but Diana never said a word about my obvious sexual arousal. Reflexively, I squirmed as she worked the lotion into my swollen labia. Diana didn't say a word about my squirming, but Jessica Brandt did.

"Trust me, dear," she said, "You want Diana to do a thorough job down there. It is possible for a woman to get sunburn on her nether lips. I've been to nude beaches where I've seen it happen. It's not a pretty sight. Best to take precautions now, rather than suffer later."

"Yes ma'am," I said, and even spread my legs wider, giving Diana more room to work.

Diana did a very thorough job of protecting my skin from the sun's rays, smoothing the lotion in all across the surface of my vulva, paying careful attention not to miss a single spot, methodically working one pubic lip at a time, getting me more and more aroused as she worked, until I could no longer suppress my reactions. By the time she finished with me, I was moaning loud enough for all four women to hear me and the throbbing in my pussy was powerful and intoxicating. I tried to give Diana an admonishing look, but failed. Diana met my gaze, but her face gave off no hint of remorse for that she'd done.

Jessica Brandt began to tell me what she expected next, but I was feverish with sexual need and my head was pounding just and intensely as my overworked pussy, and I found it almost impossible to concentrate on her words.

"The photoshoot we're working on today is supposed to depict a medieval slave auction," she said directly to me, "Andrianna will be the auctioneer. Andrea will be her assistant. You will be the slave, up on the auction block."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, trying to focus on her words, and struggling not to pant.

"Now, your agent tells me that you have a very high pain tolerance," Miss Brandt said, looking at me intensely, "Is that true, or was she overselling your job skills?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said throatily, "My pain tolerance is very high."

She looked at me dubiously, and asked, "Have you ever been whipped, Cheryl?"

It was a question that brought to mind a lot of implications. It seemed too personal a question for me to be discussing it with people that I barely knew, and had just met. However, Mrs. Ladd had set up this job for me, and she expected me to be cooperative with the client. I suppose that meant I had to answer all of her questions, no matter how personal or intimate they were.

"Yes, ma'am," I said timidly. April had whipped me several times, since she became my mistress. It hurt far worse than a spanking, but when I was sexually aroused, it mitigated the pain and made it delicious. And I always got sexually aroused before a punishment. Most of the time, just hearing April's voice ordering me to strip was enough of a trigger to get me sexually aroused.

"Well, we'll be testing your pain tolerance today," Jessica assured me, "This photo shoot requires that the naked model on the auction block have a multitude of whip-marks on her naked skin. If you can't handle it, we'll find out shortly."

I felt a strange pang of pride in that I'd already taken a great deal of pain for April, and that my previous experience likely had prepared me for whatever Jessica Brandt had in store for me today. Was it normal for submissives to take pride in how much pain they were able to endure without complaint? I Really didn't know. I had never met any other submissives. Maybe I should be trying to find some other submissives so I could make friends with them, and we could compare notes. How difficult was it to find other submissives? Were there chatrooms on the internet where they hung out?

Diana and Jessica had brought out a number of boxes, and Jessica opened one up and, selected two wicked-looking whips from the box's interior.

"Andrea, you get one of these," Jessica said, "Andrianna, you can have the other one."

The two whips were basically identical. They each had about nine or ten thin strips of leather, dangling from a handle that was about twelve-inches long and phallic-looking. The dangling, leather strips were about nineteen or twenty inches long. However, despite the fact that the whips seemed totally identical, Andrea and Andrianna spent a great deal of time examining the individual whips, and deciding which one they liked more.

"I'll take this one," Andrianna announced proudly holding up one of the two wicked-looked whips, and made it sound like she had just scored a great victory.

"Right," Jessica said, with a slight smirk on her face, and then she rolled her eyes when Andrianna wasn't looking. She seemed to be thinking the same thing I was. There was no difference between the two whips. Why did Andrianna have to make such a big deal out of picking that particular one?

"Cheryl, follow me," Jessica said, "I want your bottom to be marked up and reddened before I actually begin the photoshoot."

I gave Jessica a questioning look, but obediently followed her. If April had told me that she wanted to redden my ass, I would have cooperated with her without hesitation. This wasn't all that different from going over April's lap for a bare-assed spanking. After all, April wanted me to become a BDSM model, so in a way, it was April who wanted me to get my ass red and stinging before the photoshoot began.

"The backstory to this photoshoot, is that you've been a slave for months," Jessica elaborated, "So, your masters and mistresses would have punished you many times before the auction ever took place. As a result, you need to have some marks on your skin, or else it will seem very odd."

"I get it," I said to Jessica, "A slave during the violent days of authoritarian despots and feudal oppression, that wasn't subject to cruel punishments wouldn't make a lot of sense."

Jessica stopped walking in mid-stride and just stared at me for several seconds before she said, "Well, look at you! You've actually got a brain in your head! You don't just have an adorable face, and a perfect body, but you're also a thinker!"

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, surprised by the compliment. It seemed odd for a clothed woman to be giving compliments to a naked slave-girl. Also, I didn't think that I had said anything all that intelligent. But one thing I was certain of was, when somebody gives you a compliment, you never contradict them.

"I'll definitely be using you in a lot of my future photoshoots," Jessica announced emphatically, and then she said, "Place your hands against that, and bend over. Stick your butt out as far as you can."

At this point, we were standing in front of a large, wooden stage. It was about five feet high, and large enough for dozens of people to stand upon it all at once. I gripped the edge of the stage with my bare hands and leaned forward, sticking my bare buttocks out, and feeling very vulnerable in the process.

"Andrea," Jessica called out one of my fellow BDSM models, "I need you to whip her butt-cheeks and the backs of her thighs."

"How many lashes?" Andrea asked as she walked up behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw her gazing mischievously at my bare buttocks.

"I'm not certain," Jessica replied in a contemplative sort of tone, "I'm trying to get her hindquarters a certain shade of red. Just keep marking up her skin, until I tell you to stop. I'll be the judge of when the color is just right."

I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. I knew that this was going to hurt, but this was the sort of thing my life was all about. I might have been afraid of the whip, and the stinging pain it would bring, but the fear was delicious. Just thinking about how I was naked, humiliatingly exposed in front of four fully-clothed women, and sentenced to a cruel, stinging corporal punishment, had fanned my libido and incited a pulsing fire in my loins.

There was a loud CRACK as the first blow stung the bare skin of my left buttock. Then another CRACK as the cruel leather whip assaulted the defenseless flesh of my right buttock.

"How are you holding up, Cheryl?" Jessica asked from somewhere behind me, her voice mostly just curious, but mixed with a slight degree of concern.

"I can take it," I assured the photographer, "Tell Andrea to keep doing what she's doing."

I clenched my teeth and flinched every time the cruel leather lashed across my defenseless, naked skin, but the whip did more than just inflict pain. It hurt gorgeously, heating up my libido, as well as stinging my bare feminine flesh. There was a soft, wet pulse in my sex as the whip scalded my innocent, naked skin. The pain, the fear and the humiliation were all delicious. My legs trembled and I reflexively recoiled from each and every blow, but I was secretly finding the entire scene very erotic. The way Jessica Brandt and her models were treating me was a very potent aphrodisiac for someone like me.

Andrea continued to score my poor bottom and the backs of my thighs with stinging, red-hot impacts from her whip. The pain was real, but so was the eroticism. The agonizing pain of the whip mixed in with waves of feverish desire, causing my whole body to become feverish with sexual heat, and causing my sex to throb with hungry spasms.

When my poor, abused bottom felt hot enough to melt butter, Jessica said that the color of my bottom looked about right, and Andrea stopped whipping me.

"Great work, Cheryl," Jessica said enthusiastically, "We're off to a great start. I was really impressed with your pain tolerance just now."

There were tears welling up in my eyes, but I smiled at the compliment Jessica had given me. This was working out well for both of us. I let out a long sigh, and stood up straight when she told me to.

Next, Jessica pulled out a leather slave collar, and told me to hold still, while she and Diana buckled it around my throat.

I felt very much in my element, as I submissively stood there and allowed Jessica and her assistant to put a slave-collar on me. I then got a surprise, as I realized that there were iron rings that held a long, thin iron rod to the back of the collar. At either end of this iron rod were wrist shackles, and I obediently allowed Diana and Jessica to lock my wrists into them.

When they were finished, my wrists were locked helplessly up above my shoulders, and I could no longer use my hands.

"It's the ideal way to transport a slave to a slave-auction," Jessica explained, "Otherwise the slave might use her hands to cover up her nudity, and that would just annoy prospective buyers and result in fewer bids."

I felt far more vulnerable and helpless now that my hands were bound, and that just seemed to do more to inflame the throbbing need in my loins. I didn't say any of this out loud, but merely replied, "Yes, ma'am. That makes sense."

Finally Jessica got out her camera and said, "Okay, Andrianna, you get up onto the stage first. Then, Andrea, you grab Cheryl and drag her up there. Cheryl, act like you're resisting, but don't resist too much. You've got stairs to climb, and I don't want you falling down. Falling down without having your hands to cushion the fall can be very traumatic."

"Um, yes ma'am," I said as Andrea grabbed a metal ring on the front of my collar and pulled. Without my hands to help me, it was pretty easy for Andrea to manipulate me and make me go wherever she wanted. She just tugged forward on my collar, and I had almost no choice in the matter. Resisting wasn't really a credible option.

There were a few wooden steps to climb to get to the top of the wooden stage. I was so focused on warily watching my bare feet and keeping my balance while awkwardly climbing stairs with my hands bound, that it took me a few seconds to realize that this was what an auction block for a slave auction was supposed to look like.

Of course, I wasn't there for a history lesson. I was there as a BDSM model for a BDSM photoshoot. I was supposed to look sexy and excite the libidos of Jennifer's clients who got turned on by seeing naked girls, helpless, vulnerable, humiliated and suffering.

"Drag her centerstage, Andrea," Jessica said, as she stood back and snapped photos of us. I was pulled forward by the collar, and almost lost my balance as Andrea gave me one last hard yank before she stopped pulling me forward.

"Okay, so you're the expert on slave auctions," Andrianna shouted down to Jessica, "What should the auctioneer be doing right about now?"

"Show off the merchandise, obviously," Jessica retorted, "The crowd will bid more if you force your slave to show off her cute little bottom, her breasts, and that treasure trove between her thighs. As the auctioneer, you need to force your slave to pose in revealing positions that show off her naked charms to her best advantage."

"Okay, I can do that," Andrianna said, agreeably.

Then Andrianna turned to me. She was only a few inches taller than I was, but at that moment, I felt her authority over me, and it seemed as if she towered over me like a giant. I was naked and helplessly bound, while she was fully dressed, and held a whip in her left hand. Then she licked her lips, reached her right hand out towards me, and said, "This is going to hurt a little bit."