Cheryl's Passion Ch. 17

* * *

The next morning, both April and I slept in late. I awoke in April's bed with April sleeping quietly beside me. I don't say this often enough, but April is an exceptionally beautiful woman. She has high cheekbones, flawless skin, wavy blonde hair and full, pouty lips. Even without makeup, she looked delicious and desirable.

April had slept wearing a cotton T-shirt and panties. The gentle curve of her breasts was visible beneath the fabric of her T-shirt and they looked exquisite. Even the flat surface of her abdomen and the gentle curve of her hip were exquisite. They seemed to beckon me, and I was tempted to reach out and brush a hand across my mistress's flawless body.

Of course, slaves don't do that sort of thing without permission. And a quick assessment of the facts reminded me that I was a slave, while April was my mistress. Firstly, I was stark naked, while April had a T-shirt and underwear. Secondly, I was still sore from some of the wicked things those women had done to me at the BDSM club last night. And thirdly, a stainless-steel shackle was locked securely around my ankle. The accompanying chain was long enough to allow me to get out of bed, but not long enough to leave the room.

I contented myself with lying there and admiring the view. And I was so hypnotized by April's beauty that I utterly failed to notice when Stefania entered the room. She moved silently like a ninja, and I didn't notice she was in the room until she placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You must get up now," Stefania whispered in my ear, "You must come with me, but do so quietly as we do not wish to wake your sleeping mistress."

Stefania unlocked the shackle from my ankle and we stealthily made our way out of the room and down the hall. I was led into Mrs. Ladd's bedroom and found Mrs. Ladd fully dressed and awaiting my arrival. Stefania then slipped out and left Mrs. Ladd and me alone together.

"Good morning, Cheryl," she said as she stood up, "I wanted to speak with you before my daughter woke up. I sent Stefania to come fetch you as she seems to have a knack for moving silently."

I was taken aback by her statement. April and her mother have a pretty good relationship. I've never known them to keep secrets from each other. For Mrs. Ladd to have a secret meeting with me behind April's back seemed out of character.

"Mistress, are you plotting behind your daughter's back?" I asked.

"Call me Christina," she said, "I'm not as invested in slave/mistress protocols as my daughter. And no, I'm not plotting against her. I just wanted you and I to have a private chat."

"Okay, Christina," I said, being as amendable as possible, "What should we chat about?"

Mrs. Ladd gave me that motherly look she sometimes does and said, "I just got off the phone with Doctor Booth. She has plans to send you to place called the Vineyard. It's a place where master and mistresses sometimes send their slaves. Cruel and unusual punishment is common practice there. Doctor Booth thinks that it would be a great opportunity to incarcerate you there for two weeks, I'm not so sure, but I thought I would talk to you about it before I talked to April about it."

"Um," I replied inarticulately, "I'm not sure what to say. You already know that I crave harsh punishments. Why do you think being incarcerated at this place would be a bad idea?"

"I've just got a bad feeling about this place," Christina replied with a shrug, "The way Doctor Booth described the place made it sound so sinister. And you'll be gone for two whole weeks. And they've got rooms that are cells with iron bars and everything. And they have dungeons, real ones. And most of the staff are all experts at ropes and chains and finding ways to make girls helpless."

I shifted my weight from my right foot to my left as I felt as I tried to follow Christina's line of reasoning. April kept me naked most of time, and April was adept at making me helpless too. April didn't have dungeons and cells with iron bars, but that was largely because she lacked the money to pay for such things. The Vineyard didn't sound like it was any more sinister than April. They just had more money and infrastructure to lend support to their cruelty.

"Christina, I appreciate your concern," I said softly, "but I agree with Doctor Booth. I think it would be a great opportunity for me to be sentenced to two weeks in this place. Ever since I read that Anne Rice book with all the naked slaves and the cruel mistresses, I've been obsessed with being treated just like the slaves from her book."

The next thing I knew, Christina had closed the distance between us and she had wrapped her arms around me. The front of my naked body was pressed into her clothed body and I hugged her back. Her arms held me gently yet firmly and she said, "You probably already know this, but I love you and I worry about you. I just don't want you getting hurt."

I breathed in Christina's scent and felt a rush of emotions. I adored Christina and it was sweet how much she cared about me and wanted to protect me, but I got a delicious tingling sensation the more I thought about being a prisoner of the Vineyard. I desperately wanted to see what sort of wicked things they would do to me.

* * *

Later that day, Doctor Booth made an appearance at the Ladd residence. She had a thick stack of paperwork that needed to be completed before I could be incarcerated at the Vineyard. I was stunned at the amount of bureaucratic red tape involved to facilitate a young woman's sexual fantasies.

"What's all this?" April asked as we sat around the dining room table and began the process of reading it.

"Consent forms, requests for medical records, questionnaires about her sexual history, acceptance of terms and conditions, mostly legal stuff," Doctor Booth said, "There's a lot of hoops to jump through before the Vineyard will allow you to be one of their inmates."

"Why do they need her medical records?" April asked.

"Different reasons," Doctor Booth responded, "For starters, they'll want proof that she doesn't have AIDS or any other sexually transmitted diseases. And in addition to that, they need to know if she's taking any sort of medication, if she has any food allergies, and if she's healthy enough to be subjected to tight bondage, hard physical labor and harsh punishments."

"They sound very professional," Christina conceded.

"They have to be," Doctor Booth replied, "On a busy day they can have over two-hundred slaves on the property. You can't expect amateurs to handle that sort of responsibility."

I nodded in agreement, when I was a prisoner of the Vineyard, I'd be putting my health and welfare in their hands. It was good to know that they were thorough and professional.

And then after I made it through dozens of pages of waivers, consent forms and other legal documents, I discovered a hidden goldmine of exciting pages. Somewhere near the bottom of the stack was a section where they inquired about my sexual fantasies and wet dreams. They were asking me to describe, in detail, the sorts of BDSM sexual fantasies stirred up my libido. With pen in hand I eagerly scribbled down the most intense erotic fantasies that lived in my imagination.

A lot of my fantasies were centered around public humiliation. I had fantasies where I was stripped naked and raped by a lesbian biker gang. I've had fantasies where I was strip-searched and subjected to an overly thorough body cavity search by the TSA. I've had fantasies where I was tied spread-eagle and finger-fucked to orgasm while clothespins painfully bit into my nipples.

I've had fantasies where I was used as a prop in an anatomy class and the teacher spent an inordinate amount of time lecturing her students on the female nipples, the breasts, the vulva, the inner labia, the outer labia, the clitoris, the clitoral hood, the anus and the vaginal opening. Of course, as she explains each part of my anatomy, there's plenty of stroking, squeezing, pinching and penetrating of my female anatomy.

I've had fantasies where I was bound to a whipping post and my naked breasts, ass and pubic lips were all whipped by a cruel woman. I've had fantasies where I was gang raped by lesbians in the shower room at Stark Fitness. I had fantasies of being a naked girl on a stage, being sold at a slave auction.

And in all these fantasies, there's a huge crowd of people there to witness my humiliation. I gathered up my thoughts and wrote down in detail everything I could remember. The paperwork strongly hinted that they would try to turn my fantasies into a reality, so I was highly motivated to educate them about my fantasies.