Cheryl's Passion Ch. 20

As the day of the slave auction got closer, wealthy women came to the Vineyard to examine us and determine if they wanted to buy us. We were felt up, fingered, examined, pinched, and probed. Our physical attributes were discussed openly as if we weren't even there.

Cara and I and ten other girls were herded into a room each day to be examined by prospective buyers. We were all naked and ordered to assume shaming positions that would show off the most intimate parts of our anatomy.

We were all probed and assessed and for the most part we were all shockingly passive and obedient. We allowed the prospective buyers to do anything they wanted to our naked bodies as they attempted to assess our worth.

At least that is until Cara abruptly pushed a woman who was cruelly pinching and twisting her nipples. It was a normal, human reaction and in a polite society, Cara would have been commended for defending herself and the woman who was abusing Cara's poor nipples would have been condemned.

Sadly, Cara and I were living in a slave society, and in a slave society slaves get punished for defending themselves. A security guard saw what Cara had done and immediately called her out for it.

"Slave," she barked at Cara, "Hands behind the back of your head!"

The security guard forced Cara to apologize for her behavior and then assured the wealthy female that Cara would be punished. The guard was about to lead Cara away and then one of the handlers stepped forward from the crowd and informed the guard that Cara was a special case.

"This one and this one are being trained together," the handler said as she pointed to Cara and me, "If you're going to punish this one, take her friend with her."

"You want me to punish them both?" the guard asked, "The blonde one didn't do anything wrong."

"I know it's unusual," the handler conceded, "but they agreed to be trained together and they agreed to be sold together. That means they also get punished together. Take them both."

The security guard raised her eyebrows at that, but she didn't argue. Handlers were high up in the Vineyard hierarchy. They outranked almost everyone else. They certainly outranked security guards, therefore, she ordered me to place my hands behind the back of my neck and both Cara and I were marched off, naked and fearful, yielding to the authority of the Vineyard and submitting to a punishment that neither one of us deserved.

We were marched to the shower room. It was late in the day, so not many people were there. There were three female slaves who had been assigned to groom the other slaves, however they were just standing there in the waiting position with nothing to do.

"You three," the security guard snapped at the attending slaves, "These two slaves have gotten themselves into trouble. You can help me punish them."

The three moved quickly, hastening to obey the security guard's every order.

Cara and I were ordered to stick out our left foot and then a stainless-steel shackle was locked around each of our left ankles. A short chain connected the shackle to a bolt in the concrete floor. The chain allowed us to move approximately eighteen inches in any direction, but no more than that.

I had assumed that Cara and I were to be whipped, but the Vineyard doesn't like to put too many marks on the naked skin of their slaves right before an auction, so the guard got creative with our punishments.

There was a hose coiled up on the concrete floor. The guard picked up the end with the high-pressure hose nozzle, turned on the water and pointed the nozzle at Cara. A concentrated jet of water struck Cara across her inner thigh, missing the folds of her pussy by a fraction of an inch. Cara screamed girlishly and instinctively she sought to evade the powerful jet of icy cold water.

Cara squirmed and twisted and writhed as the icy-cold water assaulted her naked body. Of course, no matter how much Cara screamed and twisted around, she was never able to avoid being sprayed. And then, the sadistic guard narrowed and intensified the jet of cold water and aimed it at the crack of her ass, her breasts, her nipples and her pink, pubic slit, wherever it hurt the most.

In desperation, Cara finally darted her hands out to protect the most sensitive parts of her anatomy and when that tactic failed, she collapsed to the floor and curled up in the fetal position.

"Get up, slave," the guard snapped at Cara, "You're not allowed to protect yourself from physical pain! Now get up and assume the inspection pose, or I'll have you chained up spread-eagle!"

When Cara didn't get up right away, the slaves in the shower room were ordered to fetch some chains and double-headed snap hooks. Cara heard that order and rose to her feet, reluctantly assuming the inspection pose. I'm guessing that she would have felt even more helpless being bound than if she got up and exposed her body to be abused voluntarily.

Cara's beautiful face twisted into a mask of agony, however, she maintained her pose. She trembled and she sobbed, but she spread her legs obscenely wide, thrust her breasts forward and kept her hands behind the back of her head while the guard tormented the most intimate parts of Cara's naked and vulnerable body.

And while it was painful to stand there and watch my beautiful Cara abused and tormented, it soon became my turn to be punished with a freezing-cold assault on my naked body, and I didn't handle it much better than my naked compatriot.

"Inspection pose," the guard demanded, "Face me! Feet wide apart! Pull your elbows back! Thrust your tits forward!"

It was a cruel exposure for a naked girl, but I obediently assumed the pose anyway. Then I was ordered to assume the wall pose, and then the humble pose. Each of these poses left me vulnerable and exposed and made it easy for the guard to abuse the most delicate parts of my anatomy.

After Cara and I had been mercilessly hosed down, the guard handed out scrub brushes to the three female slaves and instructed them to scrub both Dawn and me.

"Inspection pose," the guard ordered again, prompting both Dawn and me to thrust our chests out and spread out legs wide, leaving our breasts and our smooth loins both shamelessly on display.

"Don't move," the guard admonished us and then the slave-girls were prompted to go to work on us. They hastened to obey. A young, brunette female stood close to me and our eyes met briefly before she began. Her eyes were grey with flecks of blue. There was a wicked smile on her face and a certain degree of excitement in her eyes. I'm guessing that she didn't get the opportunity to torture her fellow slaves very often.

The bristles of her brush were stiff and when she dragged the stiff bristles of her brush across my naked body I gasped.

I squirmed as she scrubbed the stiff bristles across my vulnerable breasts and up and down the length of my nipples. The pain was sharp as she harshly worked the bristles all over my delicate flesh.

"Aaaaaaghhhhhhhh!"

I screamed and writhed while she tormented my sensitive nipples and areolae with the stiff, merciless bristles of her wicked hairbrush. I couldn't help it. My breasts and nipples were already tender from the assault of the icy-cold water on my naked body. The assault of the stiff bristles on my sensitive flesh seemed to multiple my agony threefold.

"Aaaghh! Ow! Ow! Ow!" I exclaimed.

"Is this how you prove your worth as a slave?" the guard asked, "Nobody wants to buy a slave who shirks from her punishments."

I trembled as the slave-girl mercilessly scrubbed my tender nipples with her wicked scrub brush and the guard admonished me, "Stick your breasts out and make it easier for your fellow slave to punish them."

Before I even had a chance to respond to the security guard's words, a second slave grabbed my long, blonde hair, yanked my head back and forced me to arch my back, tilt my chin up, look straight up at the ceiling and thrust my breasts out even more, making them even more prominent and vulnerable.

With my breasts proudly thrusting out, the first slave girl took advantage of my defenseless state and pressed the stiff bristles of her brush even harder into the soft skin of my bare breasts and my erect, sensitive nipples.

The bristles were stiff and prickly, but the sadistic prison guard was right. A slave should be willing to accept pain for her mistresses. The naked slave vigorously rubbed the stinging bristles into my soft skin, and I whimpered in the throes of raw, biting agony, but did my best not to complain or recoil from my punishment.

"Aaaahhhh! Aahhhh!"

My poor breasts suffered under the abuse inflicted upon them and my eyes welled up with tears, but I kept my chest thrust out and struggled to please my tormentors and prove that I was an accommodating slave.

The female slave rubbed my breasts and nipples raw. My tolerance for pain is extremely high, however, I was rapidly approaching the point where I thought I exceed my limits and possibly pass out. And just when my breasts were throbbing with the pain of a thousand biting fire ants, the naked girl ceased her assault on my breasts and then I felt the prickly bristles of her hairbrush against my loins.

"Aahhhh," I screamed, and my thighs reflexively closed together.

"Open your legs!" the prison guard commanded.

I sobbed, and I whimpered, but I obeyed, and spread my legs while simultaneously thrusting my pelvis forward to receive the cruel bristles across the swollen folds of my pubic lips. I felt a powerful compulsion to please the uniformed guard. I wanted her to know that I tried to be obedient and cooperative.

"That's better," the guard called out when I spread my thighs apart and then the naked slave proceeded to inflict agony on my defenseless vulva.

My face was tilted up towards the ceiling, so I couldn't see my naked body being abused, however, I could feel the cruel boar bristles as they were rubbed cruelly up and down across my delicate, pink pubic lips. I whimpered and sobbed as the brush viciously scrubbed up and down across the most intimate part of my female anatomy. I screamed as the scorching pain of hundreds of stiff, sharp bristles inflicted a horrible, intimate pain on my pink slit and I burst into tears.

I could hear Cara sobbing as well. Her soft skin was obviously being scrubbed with stiff-bristled brushes just as mine was. We both whimpered and sobbed as our innocent bodies were abused.

My legs trembled, and my poor labia felt like they were being stung by a swarm of angry wasps, but I somehow managed to maintain position and kept my legs spread wide and my pelvis thrust forward.

And when I was certain that I couldn't take any more of this abuse, Cara and I were ordered to get down on our hands and knees, with our legs spread far apart, our buttocks high in the air and our heads down, forehead touching the floor.

This position left our buttocks, and bald pubes shamelessly on display. With my ass so available for punishment, I assumed that that cruel brush would be used to turn my poor bottom red. My assumption turned out to be correct and the soft skin of my beautiful backside was scrubbed like it was a filthy bathroom floor.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh," I screamed as my bare buttocks were mercilessly reddened. The scrub-brush stung, and the stinging bristles were interspersed with stinging slaps to my poor, abused bottom. And just when I thought the pain couldn't get any worse, one of the naked girls used her brush to scrub the delicate, pink flesh of my anus.

My screams of agony mixed with Cara's and resounded endlessly in the shower room as our naked bodies were mercilessly tortured.

I fell into an exhausted, delirious state, sobbing, and trembling as hot, wet tears cascaded down my face. I had been blasted with freezing water from a vicious hose and my naked body had been scrubbed with stiff, stinging bristles. When it was over, Cara and I were permitted to collapse and listen to each other sob.

* * *

Our handler decided that Cara was woefully lacking in certain respects. Cara and I had been summoned to Ashley Witter's office and ordered to stand naked in front of her desk and assume the waiting pose. Cara and I immediately stood in front of our handler with our legs lewdly far apart, our swollen pubic lips indecently on display, our hands behind our backs, our fingers grasping our opposite wrists, our shoulders back, our boobs thrust shamelessly forward.

"Her biggest problem is the way she responds to punishments," Ms. Witter explained, "Most slaves become sexually aroused when they're spanked or whipped or sexually abused. They associate the pleasures of the flesh with the pain of punishments. Cara is sorely lacking in that category."

"You want me to become sexually aroused when I'm punished?" Cara asked, her face a mask of shock, fear, and confusion.

"But of course, dear," Ashley Witter responded as her fingertips slid leisurely up and down one of Cara's naked breasts.

"Slaves are supposed to be blatantly sexual creatures. Being in pain shouldn't be an excuse for a slave's sexual arousal to diminish. Ideally spankings and other punishments should make your pussy dripping wet."

The look of shock on Cara's face didn't diminish. She seemed to have a great deal of difficulty in wrapping her head around the concept of women becoming sexually aroused when punished. I understood the concept on an instinctual level. For me it just seemed natural that corporal punishments would rouse a woman's libido, but to Cara the concept was bizarre.

* * *

Shortly after that meeting with Ashley Witter, Cara and I were herded into a room where slaves were trained to associate pain with pleasure. Once inside the room, our wrists were strapped to each end of a trapeze bar. Once our wrists were securely bound, the bar was then raised above our heads. With our arms raised so high, there was no possibility of us using our hands to protect our naked bodies.

"Frida and Rebecca will see to your training," we were told, "They'll get to you as soon as they can."

The security guard pointed towards Frida and Rebecca and I was somewhat surprised. Most Vineyard employees wore some sort of uniform. Frida and Rebecca each wore a black, spandex leotard. The spandex garments were skintight, cut high on the hip, exposing the curves of each woman's firm buttocks and had a scoop neck that revealed a significant amount of each woman's cleavage.

Frida had long, lean, well-defined muscles, especially in her legs. The curves of her athletic body looked delicious and her skimpy leotard did very little to conceal her body from me.

It slowly dawned upon me that this was a uniform of sorts. These women specialized in stimulating a slave's libido while simultaneously inflicting pain. Both women had great bodies and their leotards left almost nothing to the imagination. Just watching their perfect bodies as they moved made me feel a certain erotic tingling in my loins, and I'm reasonably certain they had the same effect on Cara.

As Cara and I waited to be tormented, we watched as they worked on other slaves. The first thing I noticed was a female slave named Siri. She was naked and she was bound spread-eagle. Her wrists were bound to a trapeze bar and her ankles were bound far apart by use of a spreader bar. While Siri was naked and helpless, Frida had one hand between Siri's legs, fingering the slave's exposed sex. The poor girl moved her hips in a shamelessly pornographic manner as her sex was played with. When Siri's face was flushed with feverish lust and she was gasping with sexual need and on the edge of climax, Frida withdrew her hand from Siri's loins.

"Ohhhhh," the poor girl wailed, "Please, Mistress!"

Of course, Frida had no mercy on the girl. She was spanked with a leather belt until her ass was quite red, and then Frida went back to fingering the girl to the edge of orgasm once again.

I also noticed a redheaded slave being tormented. I didn't know her name, but I'd seen her in the shower room and in Mistress Faith's class. She was bound spread-eagle, just like Siri and her buttocks were already quite red, however, Rebecca continued to assault the poor girl's naked backside with a leather strap. A large, silicone phallus had been thrust within the recesses of the slave-girls sex and was held there by another female slave. The redhead whimpered and sobbed as she writhed in a lewd manner, undulating her hips and pelvis as she attempted to bring herself to climax.

It didn't take a genius to understand what was happening. Rebecca would continue to whip the slave-girl's buttocks until she achieved orgasm. The redhead's beautiful face was wet with tears and she was bound in such a way that she could barely move. As such, bouncing and twisting her sheath around the fake cock to bring herself to orgasm was a difficult task. I watched, fascinated as the poor girl quivered and shook and cried out in pain. Eventually, she achieved her goal, went slack in her bonds and Rebecca finally ceased whipping the poor girl.

When Frida and Rebecca were finished tormenting Siri and the other naked slave, they turned their attention to Cara and me. When Frida turned her gaze towards me, I suddenly felt ten times more exposed and vulnerable.

Frida gave me a flinty-eyed look and ordered me to spread my legs wide. Then my ankles were bound to a spreader bar, so I had to keep my legs spread like that.

As she stood disturbingly close, I realized that I could either meet her steely-eyed gaze or drop my eyes to focus on the inviting display of her firm, round breasts as they thrust their way out from her perilously low-cut leotard.

Guess which one I chose.

"You want to cum, don't you, slave?"

She held my breasts in her hands as she spoke and she rubbed my nipples, causing them to harden and become embarrassingly erect. There was a soft, wet pulse in my sex and my face and my loins both began to feel feverishly hot. The cruel look in Frida's eyes, the sensation of her hands on my vulnerable breasts and the commanding tone in her voice all did something to excite my libido and make me feel all tingly with anticipation.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied.

"You will call me Frida," the athletic woman commanded as she continued to play with my nipples, "If you forget to call me by my name you'll be gagged. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Frida," I said obediently.

"You will cum," Frida assured me, "but before you do, you must suffer. It's traditional and proper etiquette that slaves have to suffer for their orgasms. You'll see what I mean. You and I are going to be spending a lot of time together. Before we're done, you'll understand."

I nodded in silent agreement and then one of Frida's hands moved down to my exposed vulva. She easily located my swollen clitoris and brushed a finger across it, pulling the hood aside. I shut my eyes and moaned. It took only a few seconds, but Frida had stoked my libido to feverish levels.

I gasped as Frida stroked one of my nipples and my throbbing, exposed clit at the same time. My clit was so hard and sensitive I knew that it wouldn't take much effort to bring me to orgasm. My body was feverish and permeated with erotic tingling sensations. I wanted the cruel woman to finish what she had started, but I was helplessly bound and at her mercy. There was nothing I could do to influence her actions.

My breathing became ragged and my breasts heaved up and down as I felt my orgasm approach. Then Frida pulled her hand away, causing me to whimper at the cruel denial of my much-deserved climax. Reflexively my hips and pelvis thrust forward, seeking the hand Frida had pulled away.

Frida just laughed and painfully pinched one of my nipples.

"This is the way it is with slaves," Frida explained, "You are to be ready for sex at all times, but you have no right to sexual relief. Orgasms are something that your mistress can give out as a reward or withhold as a punishment."