Cheryl's Passion Ch. 26

I trembled and tears welled up in my eyes as my tender buttocks were petted, squeezed and handled. At first it was just one, bold woman, and then other women followed her example and ran their hands all up and down my ass as well.

One well-tailored, regal woman paid scant attention to my punished backside and focused instead on my conspicuously vulnerable sex. She placed one hand between my widespread legs, kneaded my inflamed pubic lips and said, "You skank, you're enjoying the way Simone is humiliating you, aren't you?"

She had leaned in close and was practically whispering as she said it, but my pussy was sopping wet and she knew it. My face blushed red hot as the older woman eyeballed me and awaited my reply.

"Yes, mistress," I responded softly, blushing so hard I feared I might pass out. She continued to methodically play with my exposed sex lips and then she wiped my juices across my inner thigh.

"You shouldn't be here," the woman informed me.

"You should be living with Simone."

My heart fluttered in my chest at her words, and I nodded in silent agreement.

Simone was wearing knee high leather riding boots and I was ordered to get down on my hands and knees to kiss her boots while everyone watched.

"And raise your butt up," one of the women said imperiously. "You have a very attractive rear end. A slave girl with a perfectly sculpted ass like yours, should constantly be putting her ass on display."

At some point, I was ordered to cease kissing Simone's boots and wrap my arms around her waist. I ended up affectionately nuzzling her crotch while my aunt, and everyone else encouraged me to behave in a slutty shameless manner.

Simone was wearing skintight riding leggings and as I rubbed my face enthusiastically into Simone's crotch, I could feel the outline of her vulva through the thin fabric.

"With the right encouragement, I bet she could chew through the crotch of those leggings and eat your pussy," my aunt commented to Simone.

One of the women pushed the toe of her expensive patent leather shoe into my exposed sex and she added, "I bet she could."

I stifled a gasp as I continued to rub my face up and down, pressing it against Simone's pelvis. Meanwhile, the affluent woman behind me pressed the narrow toe of her shoe against my sex. She withdrew her foot for a moment, causing my shoulders to relax, but then she steadied herself and thrust it back in, pressing more firmly against the exposed, open mouth of my sex and began grinding it there.

"Aaahhh," I exclaimed.

I felt vulnerable and wanted to close my legs together, but my aunt insisted that I spread them even wider as her guest began to grind the toe of her black leather shoe against my sex, angling it so she pushed it up against my throbbing clit, making me more and more sensitive every second.

"The way she whimpers and pants as I work my toe against her clit is a delight," the woman said. "If she were my slave, she'd be making sounds like that all day."

"It's a shame her fifteen days are almost up," my aunt commented. "It breaks my heart to think of her regaining her freedom."

The woman shoving the tip of her shoe up my poor, abused pussy pushed harder, and the elegant ladies began to discuss the possibility of my time as a slave being extended.

"I could have a new slave contract drawn up," Simone said. "Thirty days instead of fifteen, and instead of Helen, I'll be listed as Cheryl's owner."

"Drawing up the contract is the easy part," said the affluent woman as she continued to grind her toe against my clit. "You'd still need to get Cheryl to sign it. Do you really think you'd be able to do that?"

I held on to Simone's hips and lovingly rubbed my mouth against her pelvis and inner thighs. I adored the idea of spending thirty days as Simone's slave, but I kept my mouth shut. There was some sort of unwritten rule that said I had to seem reluctant to be anyone's slave. I couldn't seem eager.

"Cheryl and I have a special relationship," Simone replied. "I think I can get her to sign."

"You think you can get a spoiled, American teenager to willingly sign a contract to give up her freedom and her dignity for thirty days?"

I moaned as my pubic lips were rubbed and kneaded and abused, but kept my face hidden to conceal my true feelings about becoming Simone's slave.

My heart was pounding, and my breathing was ragged as that woman maneuvered the pointy tip of her shoe into the entrance of my vagina. She prodded the tip into me and gradually applied more and more force.

The imperious women discussed me at length, sharing their opinions about the chances of a young, white woman being willing to become the slave of an older, dominant black woman for an entire month. I missed most of what was said as I couldn't hear much over the sound of my own frantically beating heart and my desperate gasps. Maybe that was intentional. Maybe slave girls aren't supposed to listen closely when their betters are discussing the characteristics of the slaves.

I could feel the toe of that wicked woman's shoe as it was pushed cruelly deeper and deeper. I felt the strain against the mouth of my sex, stretching me open wider and wider, and it was difficult to concentrate on anything else.

I moaned helplessly, gasping and gulping in air as the woman above me chatted. Their words seemed to be coming from far away as I trembled, and my body broke out in a fine sheen of sweat. My eyes closed and the lips of my sex ached. It was painful the way Aunt Helen's guest spread me wide and abused the lips of my pussy, but it was also deeply arousing in a dark delicious sort of way.

"So, it just makes sense.......spoiled, white eighteen-year-old brat ......owned by a thirty-six-year-old black woman......"

The words faded in and out as I felt myself impaled on that imperious woman's foot. My breathing came out desperate and ragged as I felt the soft, moist, elastic walls of my sex being painfully widened and her shoe penetrated even deeper inside me.

I'm fairly certain that the women wagered thousands of dollars, betting either for or against me signing a thirty-day contract to become Simone's slave. Nobody asked me for my opinion. They all seemed to feel it was unnecessary to involve me in the discussion.

* * *

Later that evening, Simone printed a new slave contract and gave me the opportunity to sign it. She explained that if I signed, I'd be sentenced to a term of slavery twice as long as what I'd served under my Aunt Helen.

"And I won't go easy on you," Simone explained. "You have the most bewitching butt I've ever seen. I'm mesmerized by it. Every time I see those delicious curves, I want to throw you over my knee and spank you until you're squirming and thrashing around in pain. You'd get punishments just because I can't keep my hands off you. I'd be cruel to you for no reason. And then afterwards, I'd throw you on my bed or make you kneel at my feet so you could use your beautiful tongue on me."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked. "Are you trying to discourage me from signing?"

Her lips quirked into an adorable smile, and she replied, "Oh, I want you to sign. I just want you to go into this with your eyes wide open."

I appreciated that Simone wanted me to make an informed decision. If anything, her warnings strengthened my desire to become her slave!

I adored Simone's dominance over me. There was a decadent deliciousness to it. Being her sex slave for thirty days would mean true and inescapable servitude, sublime nakedness, and cruel punishments. Yes, it was somewhat frightening to be so helpless, vulnerable and sexually objectified for such a long period of time, but the fear that I felt was thrilling and delicious.

When Simone handed me the pen, I signed the contract with no hesitation.