Cheryl's Passion Ch. 29

Stacey wasn't a slave, she had no legal obligation to endure abuse and sexual objectification at Simone's feet, but she kept coming back for more. She had a bright, eager look in her eyes every time she showed up at the estate, and while she might pout, object or complain about the unfairness of what Simone did to her, she inevitably ended up shedding her clothes and allowing herself to be subjected to painful corporal punishments, public humiliations and other indignities.

I remember one extraordinary day when Stacey came over. Simone ordered her to strip naked shortly after she arrived and Stacey took all her clothes off immediately, without comment. She didn't protest or resist, she just stripped naked right there in the foyer.

Then Simone took Stacey and me down to the basement.

It was dark, shadowy, with a concrete floor and cinderblock walls. It looked eerie and foreboding even before Stacey and I got all the way to the bottom of the stairs. And of course, the concrete floor felt cold and uncivilized as we padded across it with our bare feet.

Mel was waiting for us down in the basement. Of course, she had her camcorder ready. She pointed it at us, ready to record whatever humiliations Simone had in store for us.

"Wall pose," Simone demanded, pointing at a cinderblock wall. The atmosphere of the basement was creepy and both Stacey and I moved cautiously as we made our way through the ominous darkness of the dungeonlike chamber.

Suddenly one of Simone's security guards, Elsa, was looming over me. It was so dark and shadowy in the basement, I didn't even notice the tall, imposing security guard until she was right on top of me.

Of course, she was taller than me, wearing a smart uniform and she spoke with the voice of authority. I automatically felt subservient to her, and I scurried to obey. I was just a naked sex slave. I would do whatever that authoritative voice told me to do. I bent over at the waist, resting most of my weight on my shoulders, my bare breasts, and the palms of my hands, and then I spread my legs indecently wide, leaving my anus and pubic lips lewdly exposed.

Stacey and I were ordered to maintain our humiliating pose while Elsa performed body cavity searches on both of us.

I heard Stacey groan in response, and then I heard the sound of a latex glove being snapped on, and then Elsa's shadow loomed over me. My heart pounded with feverish anxiety. Being anally probed always made me nervous, and being anally probed down in this deep, dark, ominous basement was far scarier than being anally probed in a doctor's examination room.

I tried to prepare myself emotionally, but I still had butterflies in my stomach and my heart was still pounding like a jackhammer when I felt some sort of cold, lubricating gel being smeared into the tight furrow between my buttocks and all over the tender, sensitive flesh of my anus.

"Ohhhhhh!"

I moaned and whimpered as strong, insistent fingers forced my anus to open and forced their way inside of me.

Stacey stood just a few inches away as Elsa thrust her fingers into my ass. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open in a look of fear and trepidation. She knew once Elsa was done with me, she was next.

Elsa was having trouble pushing past my sphincter muscle as I was too tense. She leaned in and said, "Relax your asshole. If you make me, I will use force to open you up, and it's going to hurt. I don't really want to hurt you, but if you fight me on this, I'll just shove my fingers inside you like a battering ram. It'll be brutal and your anus will hurt for days. Is that what you want?"

With a supreme effort of will, I forced the muscles of my anus to relax and allowed Elsa to slip her fingers deep into my tight ass.

She shoved her fingers inside me. She twisted her fingers around, withdrew them and then shoved them back in deeper. She spent far more time probing my rectum than was strictly necessary for a body cavity search. I think she just enjoyed watching me squirm and whimper as she violated my tight, little anal orifice.

"Good girl," she said, and finally removed her fingers from deep inside my sensitive cavity, "I'll check your vagina next."

I squirmed slightly at this announcement. Then I heard a latex glove being peeled off and a fresh one being snapped on. That at least was a relief. My pussy was defenseless and exposed, and I knew that strong, merciless fingers would be shoved into my undefended sex very, very soon.

I felt Elsa's fingers on the slick, swollen lips of my labia, and with very little effort, my pubic lips were separated, and her fingers were pushed inside of me. They probed my sexual core, and I panted and groaned with sexual urgency and anticipation. My legs trembled and I could feel the intensity of the orgasm inside of me building in strength.

My heart pounded in my ears, and waves of sexual desire resonated throughout my entire body. I could feel the orgasm approaching and knew it would take just a few seconds for it to overpower me. Five seconds? Six? Certainly, no more than seven seconds. I squirmed, trembled, and felt my body temperature jump up to feverish levels. I let out a long, enthusiastic sigh, and waited for the overwhelming, wanton orgasm to embrace me, and take control of my body.

And then; just a heartbeat before my body was shaken with an overwhelming sexual climax, Elsa removed her fingers from my sex and left me gasping with disappointment and frustration.

It felt deliberate, the way she fingered me till I was on the verge of orgasm. My suspicions about Elsa's intentions were confirmed when she performed her body cavity searches on Stacey. By the time she was done, Stacey was red-faced, panting and her legs were trembling. She was hovering right there on the edge, with waves of agonizing desire battering against her, making her whimper and bite her lower lip in sexual frustration.

I couldn't help but think that Stacey looked fetching as her naked body squirmed and twitched and her beautiful face became etched with a look of distress.

I was beginning to understand why Simone enjoyed making me helpless and punishing me. Stacey was a very beautiful woman, however watching her squirm and whimper as she suffered, her beauty took on a whole new quality.

She looked more feminine, and I felt a strong desire to touch her. It was like she was sending out a telepathic message that she should be touched all over, that it was allowed, and even encouraged. It was incredibly suggestive, a sort of non-verbal communication that said, "touch me, use me, grope me, possess me, control me!"

Then Stacey's lower lip quivered, and she looked as if she was going to complain about the way Simone and Elsa were treating her, but at the last second, she seemed to swallow her words and asked what Simone had in store for us next.

"Oh, I am so glad that you asked," Simone replied with glee. She directed our attention to the ceiling. Chains hung from the ceiling, with metal shackles dangling from them. Stacey and I were ordered to stand beneath the chains and raise our arms so our wrists could be shackled above our heads.

"Consider this to be my dungeon," Simone said after our wrists had been bound above our heads. "All slave girls should know what it feels like to be bound and punished in a dungeon."

The way Stacey was bound, with her wrists forced way above her head, made her thrust her tits out, making them far more prominent. And her distress was causing her breathing to be labored which meant I got to watch her prominent breasts heave up and down. It was a sexually charged spectacle and I found it impossible to look away.

Stripping her naked and forcing her arms up high above her head made powerful erotic imagery, but Simone wasn't finished with us.

Next, she had Elsa lock unforgiving shackles around our ankles. Chains were attached to the shackles and bolted to the floor in such a way that our ankles were forced far apart. Both Stacey and I ended up with our legs spread pornographically wide.

As we were naked, it meant that our bald pubes were indecently exposed. Of course, our pubic lips were plump and glistening with moisture after Elsa's aggressive fingering of our pussies. I whimpered and gasped, partially because of the uncomfortable way I'd been bound, but also because of how cruelly my body was exposed with my legs bound so far apart and my pink slit so suggestively on display.

"Beautiful," Mel enthused as she pointed her video camcorder at us, "You both look adorable like that! So helpless! So exposed!!"

My breathing was ragged as my naked body was stretched wide open with my muscles and tendons pulled taut. Stacey was in the same boat as me, breasts heaving, whimpering and panting and looking adorably helpless. I felt sympathy for her as her naked body was pornographically exposed and her strict bondage had obviously left her in pain, but I also felt sexual attraction to her. She looked far more adorable and alluring when she was naked and bound like that.

I assumed that suffering in such strict and painful bondage, coupled with the agonizing wave of desire that caused my pussy to throb with hungry spasms, would be enough abuse to satisfy Simone's craving for sadism, but I was wrong.

As Stacey and I made sounds of girlish distress, we heard the creaking of hinges. The door at the top of the stairs opened wide and another person entered the basement.

At first, I assumed it was one of Simone's servants, but as the women walked down the stairs, I saw that her features were familiar. I knew this woman!

I met her when I was a student at Fairhaven High. Her name was Ms. Cleve. She was a science teacher. I was pretty sure that she was still a science teacher, but since I graduated, I lost track of what she was doing with her life.

"Ms. Cleve?" I said hesitantly as she reached the bottom of the stairs and came steadily closer. It was dark in the basement, but as she closed the distance between us, her features became clearer.

She was in her early to mid-forties, she had a squarish chin, wore nerdy glasses and had very small breasts. That isn't to say that she was ugly. She had a very tiny waist and long legs. She could be considered attractive by some men.

Or some women.

I never really thought of her as a sexual being back when I was in high school. I was sexually nebulous back then. I didn't date back in high school or even think about sex really. It wasn't until after I found that Anne Rice book with all the bondage, corporal punishment, forced nudity and other kinky BDSM stuff that my libido awakened. It was at that point that I discovered I was into girls.

"Hello, Cheryl," the middle-aged educator said as she looked me up and down. "Oh, my, you're very pretty. How is it that I never noticed before?"

She took a few steps away from me and moved towards Stacey. She gave Stacey a wicked smile and said, "And Stacey, I had never guessed that you had such an alluring body underneath all those clothes."

"Sometimes slavery brings out a girl's hidden sex appeal," Simone offered. "Free women have a habit of covering up their sexuality underneath clothes, arrogance and pride."

"It's difficult to be cold and unapproachable when you're naked and forced to be constantly ready for sex," Elsa added.

Ms. Cleve silently nodded as if Simone and Elsa's comments made total sense to her. I was incapable of mustering up a verbal reply to any of this. I was in pain and suffering both physically and emotionally. Ms. Cleve wasn't one of my friends, but she had been one of my teachers back in high school. For her to see me naked with my pubic lips very visible, plump and glistening with moisture and my nipples conspicuously hard was one of the most degrading humiliations of my young life. I squirmed and felt my face blush red hot as my former teacher ogled my naked body.

"Would you like to touch her?" Simone asked.

"Would I?" Ms. Cleve exclaimed. "Oh, my, yes! It's not often that a woman my age is given a chance to grope a delightful naked teen like this one right here!"

If I hadn't been bound, I would have used my hands to protect my breasts from being mauled by the middle-aged woman. But in my situation, the most I could do was tremble and moan as she squeezed my breasts, pushed them together and rubbed my nipples. When she began to pinch, I whimpered and struggled against the shackles and chains that held me, but my struggles were futile. I had no hope of getting free or protecting my naked body from being touched all over.

Ms. Cleve's hand had moved down to my clit, and she pulled the hood aside to rub the throbbing button. I gasped and Ms. Cleve commented on its size. It was hard, swollen and engorged with blood. And it was so sensitive that I knew I would climax in just a moment or two.

I struggled to close my legs together, causing the iron shackles to bite painfully into my ankles, but all my struggles were for naught and just as I felt I was about to spasm in uncontrollably orgasm, Ms. Cleve withdrew her hand from my pulsing loins.

"Ohhhhhh!" I gasped in agonizing, sexual frustration.

"Eager little thing, isn't she?" my former teacher asked, a glint of evil amusement in her eyes.

"Slaves are conditioned to be eager," Simone explained. "She's not allowed to wear clothing, she's not allowed to masturbate, and she's constantly being fondled by my servants, my guests and myself. All of this conditions her to be in a state of constant sexual need."

I could feel my face blush even hotter as my mistress explained how I'd been transformed from an ordinary American teenager to a naked, libidinous sex slave.

"How delightful," she exclaimed and then she placed her hand on my helpless, naked body once again.

She rubbed my breasts and my pink slit. I squirmed in abject humiliation as she pinched and pulled my nipple with one hand while playing with my pussy with the other. I could feel my whole body heat up as her middle-aged hands played with my naked body and my breathing became more and more ragged.

I would never willingly have had sex with Ms. Cleve back when I was a free woman, but as a slave girl, I was at her mercy.

My vision blurred and I could hear a ringing in my ears as my pulse raced and my heart pounded adamantly in my chest. As my former teacher continued to touch me everywhere, I heard words coming from her mouth, but I was unable to understand what she was saying. The pounding in my head made the words unclear. It wasn't until she took her hands away again that I had some inkling of what she and Simone were talking about.

My breathing was labored as Simone handed over a leather belt to Ms. Cleve. Ms. Cleve folded it double and I had a fairly good idea what she intended to do with it. Simone explained that we were going to play a game.

"Molly tells me you were a poor student," Simone elaborated. "You rarely took notes during her lectures, you turned in homework assignments late, and you didn't do well on tests."

"I'm sorry, Mistress." I said nervously. "I was just a teenager. I mean, I'm still a teenager, but back then I was..."

"Hush, dear," she said, interrupting me. "I'm not finished."

I squirmed anxiously and my mistress explained that I would have a chance to redeem myself. And if I failed to redeem myself, the middle-aged school teacher she'd invited into her home would punish me for my poor study habits.

"Molly is going to ask you some questions," Simone explained. "These are high school science questions, questions about topics that she taught in her twelfth-grade class."

My heartbeat and pulse, which had been slowly reverting to normal, suddenly sped up again.

"If you answer even one question correctly, you'll be allowed to have an orgasm. But, for every wrong answer you give, she smacks your cute derriere with that belt."

A groan escaped my girlish lips. I hadn't cracked open a textbook since high school. Okay, it had only been about six months since I'd graduated from high school, but I didn't know my science facts very well even when I was reading my textbook! After months of not studying, it was unlikely I'd remember anything!

"I've never whipped a girl's bottom before," Ms. Cleft said as she moved into place behind me. "How hard should I swing this thing?"

"Cheryl has a very high pain tolerance," Simone explained. "Swing as hard as you like, she should be able to take it."

My ass was already sore from previous corporal punishments. Simone, her maids and her security guards all seemed fond of my ass and at one time or another they'd all inflicted stinging spankings, paddling or whippings on my cute backside.

"You hear that, Cheryl?" Ms. Cleft asked. "Answer correctly, or I will make you very sorry."

I was naked, bound in a very revealing manner and I'd been fondled by one of my high school teachers. How much sorrier could I be?

"What do you call a solution with a pH level of less than seven?"

"Uh," I stammered. I vaguely remember learning about pH levels, but what did I learn? Was less than seven good? Bad? Toxic?

"Neutral?" I ventured.

There was a crack of leather across my unprotected buttocks, and I let out a girlish yelp. Ms. Cleft didn't swing the belt as hard as Simone or one of her maids could swing it, but my bottom was already sore, so the sting was still quite significant.

"Acidic," Stacey exclaimed from just a few feet away, and then Ms. Cleft smacked the leather belt across her ass as well.

"Aaahhh!"

"These questions are for Cheryl," Ms. Cleft admonished my friend.

"Keep quiet, or you'll be gagged, Stacey," Simone warned. "I don't want you running Molly's fun."

I swallowed hard and wondered how many more swats Ms. Cleft would inflict on my wounded bottom. It turned out, quite a few.

"What is the function of a lipid?"

"Which type of energy is released when an ionic solid is dissolved in water?"

"Where does photosynthesis occur?"

"In the Modern Periodic Table, are the elements arranged in order of increasing mass, increasing atomic value, increasing atomic number, or alphabetically?"

"What is the atomic weight of thulium?"

"At what temperature does water turn from liquid to solid?"

"What is the melting point of lead?"

Every wrong answer resulted in another stinging swat across my bottom. The more intense the sting across my backside grew, the harder it became to think. It seemed my brain was focused entirely on the throbbing agony across my buttocks and my fear of the leather belt.

Swish! CRACK! "Aaahhh!"

Swish! CRACK! "Aaahhh!"

Swish! CRACK! "Aaaahhhh!"

Swish! CRACK! "Aaaahhhh!"

Swish! CRACK! "Aaaaahhhhh!"

Swish! CRACK! "Aaaaahhhhh! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

The pain was cumulative. A lot of the red stripes across my ass overlapped with other red stripes, adding to pain that was already there. I didn't manage to give a single correct answer, and by the time the teacher was done whipping me with her cruel leather strap, my ass was on fire, and I was sobbing in pain.

For a time, the only sound in the basement was the sound of me sobbing, and then Simone placed her mouth over mine and kissed me deeply.

When she broke from the kiss, she said, "It's obvious that Stacey was a much better student. It's a shame you and she weren't involved back in high school. You would have made for a very cute couple, and Stacey could have tutored you."

I was still sobbing, only not as loud as before. I shook and shuddered in my bonds as tears continued to run down my face and Ms. Cleve agreed that Stacey and I would have made for a cute couple.