Cheryl's Passion Ch. 08

Scarlett didn't seem to be interested in foreplay. Her thighs squirmed and soon I felt her hands gripping my head tightly and attempting to aim my mouth squarely at her nether lips.

Scarlett seemed to be awfully confident about what she wanted, so following her nonverbal cues, I placed my mouth over her sex and thrust my tongue inside her as deep as it would go.

Scarlett seemed to approve.

Scarlett continued to squirm, however she wasn't attempting to direct my mouth anymore. She seemed satisfied with my mouth right where it was. I used both hands to grasp Scarlett's firm buttocks and explored the interior of her sex with my tongue.

Scarlett gasped and moaned as I probed deep inside her with my tongue. I enjoyed the sounds that she made as I ministered to her wet, pulsing sex. The sounds she made seemed erotic and adorable. I also enjoyed knowing that I was the one responsible for her making those adorable sounds.

I knew right then and there that I wanted to do more photoshoots with Scarlett. I really enjoyed working with her and driving her to squirming, panting orgasms.

At some point, I drew Scarlett's swollen clit into my mouth and vigorously sucked on it. Scarlett responded by twisting her torso and her hips uncontrollably, and her gasping sounds became more fervent. I had to grip her buttocks much tighter to keep from being knocked to the floor by her writhing hips.

"Oh God, oh God, oh Gaaawwwwd," Scarlett exclaimed in between feminine gasps and moans. When she came in my mouth, it was violent and extraordinary. She thrust her pelvis into my face repeatedly, and I struggled not to get knocked over. Scarlett's hips and pelvis jerked like some sort of demented go-go dancer, but I kept my mouth attached to her delicious womanhood until her enthusiastic orgasm subsided.

I looked up at Scarlett when it was all over and heard her whisper, "holy fuck," so softly that it was barely audible. There was a dreamy look in her eyes that I've come to associate with post-orgasmic bliss and her breasts rose and fell as she continued to breathe heavily.

"Okay, lie down," Scarlett prompted me, "I've got something for you, I think you're going to like."

I laid down and the cameramen changed positions so they could get a better view of what Scarlett was doing to me. I was induced to spread my legs apart and Scarlett lovingly stroked my swollen labia with her fingers before moving my pubic lips apart.

I whimpered when her fingers made their way inside my vagina. April rationed my orgasms and kept me in a state of constant sexual need, so my pussy was wet and throbbing even before Scarlett touched me. With Scarlett's fingers inside of me, I felt wave after wave of desire spread from my pussy and energize my entire body.

It wouldn't have taken great skill to finger me to orgasm, any woman who probed my sex with her fingers could have done it. However, Scarlett wasn't just any woman. She explored my interior with her fingertips and discovered the most deliciously responsive nerve endings. I reflexively shuddered and gasped when she found an extraordinary spot inside of me that I didn't even know existed.

Scarlett smiled mischievously when she realized what she had discovered. She then proceeded to use the fingers inside of me to excite that delicious, secret spot repeatedly, and with her other hand she rubbed my hard, swollen clit.

I howled and squirmed as my naked, young body was subjected to sensory overload. It was a delicious, libidinous sensory overload; however, it was still difficult to take in all at once. I felt overwhelmed and my body responded to the extraordinary stimuli without consulting my brain for advice on how to proceed.

Scarlett is tall, slender and leggy, like Tricia Helfer, however, her right arm, wrist and fingers were all surprising strong. I didn't realize this at first, as she was very gentle when she first began to probe my sex with her fingers. However, she became much more forceful as she continued to impale my sex. And then, she forced her fingers deep inside of me, overwhelming me with deep, powerful thrusts that carried me away and transported me. Scarlett's fingers claimed me as her own.

I opened my thighs wider and wider, signifying my surrender and my acceptance that my pussy belonged to her now. She could do whatever she wanted with it. I squirmed and panted and felt the orgasm inside of me building in strength. I raised my hips up off the ground and whimpered and panted. When it hit, the orgasm was even more powerful than I had anticipated.

When the orgasm hit, my sex was still impaled on Scarlett's strong, capable fingers. My hips squirmed and gyrated while Scarlett's fingers remained deep inside of me. I made inarticulate noises while Scarlett's clever fingers continued to work their magic deep inside of me, stimulating my nerve endings with an expertise that would have impressed a neurobiologist. By the time she was finished, I was panting and covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

* * * * *

So, the photographers the director at discipline.com absolutely loved me. They said it was a great session, and they promised to call me back often. They also said that they had another studio in Augustus Beach, and hinted that future sessions would take place there.

I wish they had told me about the Augustus Beach studio sooner. The drive to San Francisco took hours!

Scarlett and Eliza ended up helping me to get up off the floor. That orgasm took a lot out of me, and I felt physically drained and barely capable of movement. It was like my nervous system experienced a sensory overload, and it took time for my body to recover from the shock of millions of sexual nerve endings all being stimulated at the same time.

"So, New Girl," Eliza said to me when the models were all back in the dressing room, "You had a really big smile on your face when we pried your ass off the floor. I take it you enjoyed yourself today?"

"Oh God," I replied, not even knowing the proper words to describe the sort of sexual ecstasy that I had just gone through. Scarlett's very capable fingers had brought me into a world of carnal bliss that I didn't even know was possible.

"I'm gonna count that as a yes," Gina commented, and everybody laughed. Even me.

Scarlett's ass was still red from her earlier spanking, and mine was seriously sore and stinging too. Eliza pointed out how red and tender both of our backsides looked, and she pulled out some sort of moisturizing lotion that was supposed to help the skin heal quicker and reduce the pain.

"Here, Hug-Monster," Eliza said as she handed the container to Scarlett, "Spread some of that on the new girl's backside."

Scarlett got a large blob of the medicinal lotion on her fingers and proceeded to gently rub some of it into my burning, stinging buttocks. I looked over my shoulder and gave Eliza a curious look while Scarlett worked the lotion into my abused flesh.

"I thought Scarlett was your girlfriend," I said over my shoulder, "I mean...I kinda got that vibe off of you two."

"Oh, yeah, she's my girlfriend," Eliza replied as she changed out of her uniform and back into her civilian clothes.

"Okay," I said, as Scarlett continued to rub my bare buttocks with the thick, greasy ointment, "I just thought it was kind of odd that you would encourage your girlfriend to run her hands all over another girl's butt."

Eliza stopped what she was doing, gave me an intense look and said, "Scarlett's my girl, but I'm not the jealous type. I've given her permission to fool around with other women, just so long as there are no secrets between us."

"She's really cool," Scarlett said, "She is like, the greatest girlfriend ever."

"I know what she needs to be happy," Eliza said, "Knowing what your partner needs, and providing it for them is the key to any successful relationship. Scarlett needs more sexual stimulation than I can provide, so I allow her to play around. She still loves me, and she always ends up in my bed at night. I think we've got a pretty good thing going on."

When Scarlett had finished working the soothing lotion into my poor, abused behind, Eliza suggested that I return the favor and work generous amounts of it into Scarlett's abused backside.

It was a heady and delicious situation. Scarlett was a very beautiful woman, and she had perfect buttocks. Rubbing my hand across them was heavenly. I could have run my hand across her perfect butt-cheeks all day long, however I was only allowed to do it for about three or four minutes.

* * * * *

Scarlett gave me her contact information, so I could e-mail her or call with any BDSM questions I might have, however, she also hinted that I could call her if I wanted to meet up with her to have sex. I wasn't sure how April would feel about that; however, I was hoping we could work something out. Scarlett was a sex goddess, and our first sexual encounter was extraordinary.

* * * * *

When I returned home I told Amy all about my studio session with discipline.com. I also told her all about Scarlett and how she was the first friend that I'd made in the porno industry and how she offered to help me out with any questions I had. I think I may have oversold how great Scarlett was. After spending several minutes bragging about how friendly she was, how beautiful she was and how helpful she was, Amy got tired of hearing me talk about her.

"Give me her contact information," April said when I finally let her get a word in edgewise, "As your mistress I should vet anyone that wants to be your friend. And I'll need to talk to Scarlett before I can decide of whether she's suitable for you or not."

I pouted but handed over Scarlett's phone number and e-mail address. When I agreed to be April's slave-girl, I knew that I was giving her a lot of control over my life, but I didn't realize that I'd be giving her the authority to decide who I could be friends with.

I would have liked to have been in the room when April called Scarlett, however I was told to go with Stefania and to help her with chores in the kitchen. She swept the floor and scrubbed the kitchen counters, and I was made to get down on my hands and knees and scrub the floor. Of course, I was naked the entire time I was scrubbing. April insists that I strip naked the minute I get home and stay naked unless I have to leave the house.

As I crawled around naked, on my hands and knees, Stefania would issue me instructions such as, "Scrub hard in the corners. Much dirt gets trapped there. You must focus much attention there."

She also reminded me to keep my knees far apart as I crawled across the kitchen floor.

April and Stefania both believe that it's important for me to expose my public lips as much as possible always. This is supposed to help keep me in the proper frame of mind for a slave-girl. Mostly it makes me feel more vulnerable and exposed. I suppose that's the mindset they were hoping for.

By the time I was done scrubbing the floor, April had finished talking to Scarlett. I hadn't been allowed to participate in the conversation at all.

I looked up from my scrub brush and waited for April to tell me her decision, however she decided it would be more fun to keep me ignorant, so, she kept her decision from me. I was crushed. I was fond of Scarlett and wanted her to be my friend.

* * * * *

Three days later, I was still waiting to hear April's decision on whether Scarlett and I could be friends. It was a new and different sort of torture. I really liked Scarlett and wanted her to be a part of my life. April had the power to deny me having Scarlett as a friend, however, she refused to tell me if she approved of Scarlett as a friend or rejected her.

Most aspects of slavery appealed to me. For the most part I found it highly erotic and sexually potent to be April's slave, however, I was displeased at how being April's slave might have cost me Scarlett as a friend.

I tried to bury myself in routine and forget about it. Since April hadn't rendered a decision, there was still a chance she might approve of Scarlett. Until she said one thing or another, I just tried to put the whole issue out of my head and focus on my assigned duties around the house.

Stefania had formulated a number of ideas for how a household slave should be treated and requested permission to subject me to them. There were a few ideas that April turned down, however, she approved of most of Stefania's ideas, and those ideas were soon put into practice.

One of those ideas was that I should be spanked every morning, even if I hadn't done anything bad. Stefania felt that it would help keep me in the proper frame of mind if I was placed over somebody's knee with my ass high up in the air and my innocent hindquarters swatted until they were red and stinging.

I suppose she was correct. It always ended up making me feel helpless and humiliated. And with my ass red-hot and throbbing in pain, I somehow felt more naked. With a red-stinging ass, I felt like my ass was somehow more visible and on display.

Another idea that Stefania had was to give me the responsibility of making breakfast for everybody every morning. Of course, to make me feel more helpless and submissive, a stainless-steel shackle was locked around my ankle and that shackle was attached to a chain. The other end of the chain was bolted to a section of floor underneath the kitchen sink. The chain was long enough to allow me to reach the stove, the refrigerator and other things I needed in the kitchen, but it wasn't long enough to allow me to go anywhere else. I was kept a prisoner in the kitchen until everybody's food was prepared.

I counted myself lucky that nobody ever asked me to fry up bacon for breakfast. The hot grease splatter that comes from cooking bacon combined with the fact that I'm always naked would be a bad combination. Getting burning-hot grease on my bare breasts, thighs or pubic lips would have been excruciatingly painful.

On this particular occasion, I prepared fresh-cut strawberries and bananas for Mrs. Ladd, and scrambled eggs and salami for everybody else. I also brewed a pot of coffee.

I had gotten out the coffee mugs and was pouring coffee for each of us when there was a knock at the door.

"I will see who it is," Stefania said and got up to answer the door.

I was feeling awkward and exposed. I had no idea who was at the door, and the kitchen wasn't very far from the front door, perhaps thirty feet. If Stefania opened the door wide enough, my naked body would be on full display for somebody. My mind raced with one embarrassing possibility after another.

At first Stefania talked to our visitor with the door opened only slightly, perhaps two or three inches. Were she to open the door just a little wider, the visitor would never get a view of my naked body. And after three minutes or so, Stefania swung the door wide open and invited the person in.

I was forbidden from using my hands to cover myself, and the chain attached to my ankle prevented me from fleeing the room. Whoever Stefania had invited inside would get ample opportunities to ogle my naked body.

The person Stefania invited in was female, it was impossible not to notice that.

However, in my naked state, I seemed to focus on her clothing. I was naked and barefoot. This new person was wearing very stylish leather boots, stylish black jeans, a black, leather belt and a red, V-neck t-shirt.

I spent such a long time focusing on her attire, I delayed looking at her face. Also, being naked in front of a clothed stranger, I suppose I felt intimidated and was hesitant to make eye-contact with her.

Silly me.

If I had focused on her face sooner, I would have realized she wasn't a stranger at all. I had met her in San Francisco several days earlier. It was Scarlett, the BDSM model that made such a positive impression on me.

"Cheryl," Scarlett said as she made her way into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in an affectionate embrace.

When she broke from the hug, she looked me up and down, looked around the room and said, "Did I walk in on a photo shoot?"

Then I noticed that April had stood up and was taking photos of me with a digital camera.

"No photo shoot," April replied, "but the look on her face was priceless. I had to get a few pictures of that."

So, April had spoken to Scarlett and found her to be adorable, but she refused to tell me. She kept me ignorant of her opinion because she wanted to invite Scarlett over to the house and see the look of shock on my face when she came to visit.

"Okay," Scarlett said hesitantly, looked me up and down again and said, "if this isn't some sort of B&D photo shoot, why is Cheryl naked and shackled to the kitchen island?"

I could feel my face grow hot at Scarlett's question. I loved being dominated, controlled and punished by April, however, I felt a certain degree of discomfort and embarrassment at having my life as a lesbian sex-slave revealed to people outside of my tiny circle of confidants.

"Cheryl is a lifestyle submissive," April explained, "We keep her naked all the time. She's only allowed to wear clothes when she leaves the house."

Scarlett looked me up and down, and I knew that the uncomfortable heat in my face meant that I must be blushing furiously. I was waiting with baited breath to see how she would react, but in the end, all she did was say, "Wow."

"Wow?" April inquired.

"Well, yeah," Scarlett responded, resting her hands gently on both of my shoulders, "I mean, I've got a girlfriend back in Fresno, and we play bondage games about twice a week or so. It's fun, but I couldn't imagine being naked and bound at home every single day!"

"Cheryl is very committed to serving a harsh, lesbian mistress," April explained, "She's very serious about this. It's her one big passion in life."

"Wow," Scarlett exclaimed once again.

"For me, this is more than just a hobby," I explained, "It's more like a religion. When I'm wearing clothes, it feels like sacrilege somehow. If I wear clothes, it's a visible sign of status, like I'm on the same level as April. And it puts me into a mindset equality with April...and every time I start to feel like I'm April's equal, it seems like there's a wrongness to that feeling. I feel like I'm betraying April somehow...or maybe violating some important rules that I haven't seen written down, but I know that they're out there somewhere. I feel like it's important for me to maintain the mindset of a vulnerable, owned and utterly naked sex-slave."

"Wow," Scarlett said once again, and then she added, "I've heard dozens of bottoms describe the psychology behind their love of being dominated, but I've never heard it phrased quite like that before."

I nodded in agreement with that. I realized that my emotional needs were probably rare, but it was undeniable that I had an overwhelming need to belong to someone, to be owned by them, to be given strict rules, to be punished mercilessly at the slightest excuse and to have my naked body displayed for the enjoyment of her friends, family and random acquaintances.

I spent several minutes trying to explain this Scarlett. I was tongue-tied at first, however, the longer I spoke, the more easily the words came to me. The longer I talked, the more my words seemed to make sense, and the more Scarlett's eyes lit up with comprehension.

"I get it," Scarlet finally said, "I mean, I experience the same sort of sexual excitement as you when I'm naked and bound and I can't get free, but, if I had to give it up for some reason I could handle it. I mean, I'd miss it. Some of my most delicious orgasms were when I was bound, helpless, vulnerable, afraid and mercilessly raped by some cruel, dominant woman, but if I had to give all that up, I could manage it. I get the feeling you wouldn't be able to."