Cheryl’s Passion Ch. 12


It was shameful and indecent. I stood there naked, with a crowd of fully clothed women in attendance as Karlie knelt before me and worked her face in between my thighs. Karlie lapped at my wet, throbbing sex and when I squirmed and moaned in a shamelessly libidinous way, Karlie clamped her mouth over my swollen labia and her tongue went deep inside of me. I moaned and gasped as her tongue vigorously probed my vagina and caused me whimper as my orgasm built up in intensity inside of me.

“Aaaghh-aahhhh,” I gasped inarticulately and the throbbing, desperate need in my loins erupted into a firestorm of orgasmic pleasure. April has banned me from pleasuring myself and she strictly restricts how often other people can give me orgasms. Consequently, when I am finally allowed to cum, it’s intense and very nearly overwhelming.

“Aaaaaaighhhhhhhh,” I screamed as the orgasm broke free from and my entire body shuddered. The onslaught of pleasure tore through my body and I thrashed and very nearly lost my balance as my legs went weak and my knees buckled.

My entire body throbbed with pleasure and it seemed as if scores of orgasms were erupting from my body one after another in rapid succession, but no matter how much I squirmed or thrashed, Karlie’s mouth remained firmly between my thighs, her tongue continued to lick at my throbbing clitoris and probe earnestly into my vagina, and her mouth continued to suck at my swollen pubic lips until I collapsed to the floor.

I was scooped up by Stefania’s strong arms and then Stefania and April pulled me back up into a standing position. I continued to pant and gasp for several minutes, and Stefania and my mistress continued to hold me, as if they thought I might collapse once again.

“Well, did everyone enjoy that?” April asked the crowd of women who had watched attentively as I gasped and moaned my way to a shuddering orgasm.

There was a volley of answers, different words came from different mouths, but the undeniable conclusion was that everyone felt the way Karlie ate my pussy and brought me to a gasping, squirming orgasm was grand entertainment. One of the women even opined that Karlie and I made for an adorable couple.

* * * * *

“They were right about one thing,” Prue said as she locked the door to her room, “You are adorable.”

Prudence Cuthbert is a woman I’ve known for years. She and I went to high school together. After graduation we sort of drifted apart, and then around about the time I discovered my passion for lesbian BDSM, we drifted back together again.

“I’ve had a crush on you since the day we first met. I would have given anything just to have you hold me tight and kiss me on the mouth. And now, I have you naked, handcuffed and locked in my room.”

“I’m at your mercy, Mistress,” I said subserviently to Prue, “Anything you want to do to me, go right ahead.”

Prue moaned and said, “The way you say that in your sweet, innocent, obedient slave-girl tone of voice, makes my pussy throb and gets me all feverish. You’re a temptress.”

“Perhaps I should be punished, Mistress,” I suggested, “tempting a sweet, innocent girl like you. I must be a bad girl to have done something so wicked.”

“Haven’t you had enough already?” Prue asked me, “I saw Stefania spank you this morning. By the time she finished, you were crying, and your bottom was all red.”

“That’s how slaves get treated,” I explained, “Chronic punishments help keep us in the proper mindset. If I didn’t want to be abused and punished every day, I wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship with someone who enjoys punishing naked girls.”

“I might enjoy punishing you too,” Prue admitted, “but there are other things that I’d enjoy more. For right now I’d just like to touch you. You’ve got a really great body and I’d like to explore it with my hands.”

I was still naked and handcuffed, so whatever Prue wanted to do with my body, it was exceedingly available. I told Prue that if she wished to explore my body with her hands that she should go ahead. Following that comment, Prue took out a tiny key, unlocked my wrists from the handcuffs and told to place my hands behind my head and spread my legs while she explored my naked body.

Prue was overly thorough in the way she examined me. She started with predictable stuff, like checking the muscle tone in my calves, thighs and buttocks, but then she moved on to things I didn’t expect. She cupped my breasts and lifted them as if trying to determine their weight, she ran her thumbs across my nipples traced her fingertips around my areolas, she caressed the sides of my breasts and traced her fingers from there to my armpits, she examined the soles of my feet, she examined the flesh between my toes, she ran her hands across my taut abs and she pulled my buttocks apart and spent several minutes poking and prodding at the sensitive, pink flesh of my anus.

Prue had me open my mouth wide so she could examine my teeth and tongue. She ran her fingers across Bostancı Anal Escort my gums and then ran her fingertips across my jawline, my throat and my collarbone.

Then there was a highly intimate gynecological exam. Prue ran her fingers across my swollen pubic lips before grabbing my sensitive labia and pulling them painfully far apart. When she was finished testing the elasticity of my public lips, she inserted two fingers deep within my vagina and probed my vaginal cleft, exploring every inch of my interior, as if searching for contraband.

Of course, the entire time she was doing this, I moaned, whimpered and trembled. April tends to keep me in a state of constant sexual tension and readiness, so Prue’s ministrations between my legs very nearly drove me past the brink. And when she withdrew her fingers from my vagina, they were slick with my juices.

Prue examined the fluids I had left on her fingers as if they were of great interest to her. She licked a tiny amount off the tip of one finger and pronounced that the flavor was acceptable

* * *

When it was Daniella’s turn to have me all to herself, she had different ideas for how to treat her slave.

“A slave should be able to do physical labor for the people who own her,” Daniella opined, “so, let’s see how suited you are to completing demanding physical tasks.”

And then, Daniella produced a thin, leather whip, cracked it across the floor and began to order me through a series of exercises.

“Now, down on the floor,” Prue snapped at me, “Let me see you do twenty pushups.”

I’m in very good shape, and twenty pushups was hardly a challenge for someone like me, but as soon as I succeeded in that task, Daniella barked out orders for me to do more physical tasks.

“Get on your feet! Twenty lateral lunges,” she called out.

“On the floor! Eighty hip raises!”

“Now get up! Twenty bodyweight lunges!”

“Down on the floor again! Twenty more pushups!”

Daniella snapped orders at me like a drill instructor and led me rapidly through a series of demanding physical exercise until I’d worked up a fine sheen of sweat. If I didn’t obey her orders quick enough, there’d be a loud crack as her leather whip stung my already sore backside.

“Well, you’re certainly able-bodied enough,” Daniella finally conceded, “I’d be pleased to have you as a household slave.”

There was another stinging slap of leather across my poor, abused buttocks and Daniella ordered me to get up off the ground.

“Now, let’s get a look at your mouth,” she said.

I opened wide, as if for a dental exam and allowed Daniella to examine the interior of my mouth. “Oh my God! Your teeth are perfect,” she exclaimed before moving on to examine my tongue.

“It’s long and pink and pretty,” Daniella commented, “Let’s see how adept you are at using it on a woman’s slit.”

“Now get down on your knees and help me take off my pants,” Daniella ordered.

Obediently I sank down to my knees and I undid the snap on the front of Daniella’s jeans. Immediately Daniella snapped at me, “No! Bad slave! First help me take off my boots! Then you can help me take off my pants!”

If I were a free woman, I might have pointed out the fact that Daniella was giving mixed messages. She had told me to help her off with her pants, not her boots. But as a slave, I kept my mouth shut and simply followed her orders to the best of my ability.

After her boots were off, Daniella ordered me to unzip her pants and pull them down. Finally, she ordered me to pull down her panties and set them in the same pile as the rest of her clothing. When Daniella was naked from the waist down, I could see that her vulva was smooth and clean-shaven (or possibly waxed) and her labia were pink, swollen and glistening with her own juices.

Her thighs and pubic lips were quite beautiful, and I felt a delicious, tingly sensation at the thought of plunging my tongue into her and tasting her juices.

I held onto Daniella’s firm buttocks while I leaned my head into her crotch. I began to attend to her desires by licking her slick pubic lips slowly from the bottom to the top. Daniella let out a gasping noise and her thighs shuddered at the touch of my tongue. Since I had just started, that was quite a response.

“Oooooohhhh,” Daniella moaned as I licked at the folds of her pussy. Her hips squirmed and her thighs trembled. She was extremely responsive. I worked my tongue into her vagina and tasted her juices, but I didn’t think it would be long before she erupted into orgasm.

I worked my tongue into her vagina and savored the taste of her abundant juices. As I licked at the swollen folds of her pubic lips and stuck my tongue deep inside of her, it seemed that she tasted like sweet butter.

I held Daniella’s firm buttocks tightly in hands and dug my tongue deep into her sex, searching her moist interior and savoring her taste. Daniella made gasping and panting sounds as Bostancı Yaşlı Escort my tongue explored.

Daniella’s breathing rapidly became more labored and I licked the hood away from her inflamed clitoris and gently trapped it between my teeth. I sucked her hard, swollen nodule and Daniella’s whole body began to shudder and writhe. Then, instead of panting, Daniella let out sharp cries of ecstasy and her naked body squirmed in a way that was so vigorous and forceful that I was unable to maintain my grasp upon her hips and buttocks.

“That was amazing,” Daniella said after she was finished squirming and panting, “You definitely know how to please a woman.”

* * *

The next morning, Mrs. Ladd was the first woman that I was expected to sexually satisfy.

Mrs. Ladd was sort of an anomaly. While all the other women in the cabin were heavily invested in the BDSM scene, Mrs. Ladd didn’t really seem to care for it. When I came to see her, she didn’t pull out any whips, paddles, handcuffs or bondage paraphernalia. She just gave me a hug and told me to help her undress.

I helped her out of her clothes and let out an appreciate sigh at the sight of her naked body. Mrs. Ladd is about thirty-six or thirty-seven, but she has a very nice body. She has firm thighs, firm abs and impressive breasts. April has nice, firm, desirable breasts, but they’re just barely big enough to fill my hands. Her mother’s breasts were much larger and more eye-catching.

“Into the shower,” Mrs. Ladd commanded, “Connie has been bragging for the past three weeks about having shower sex with Matthew. I’m willing to bet that shower sex with you is better.”

I had no idea who Connie and Matthew were, and I didn’t care. There was an insistent heat in my loins and butterflies in my stomach. April was my mistress, but Mrs. Ladd was my mistress’s mother. In my mind, that made her the ultimate authority figure. Whenever I had the opportunity to please her it created a delicious throbbing in the naughty parts of my anatomy.

We stepped into the bathroom and Mrs. Ladd turned on the water. While we waited for the water to warm up, Mrs. Ladd grabbed me and pressed her breasts into mine. My nipples stiffened and she kissed me hungrily. I moaned into her mouth and her tongue slid against mine. As the water warmed up, we both moaned, and Mrs. Ladd’s tongue danced in my mouth and stroked lovingly against my own tongue.

Once the water was warm, Mrs. Ladd had me step into the shower and get soaking wet. She stepped into the shower with me, slid the curtain closed and proceeded to soap my body up with a coconut and vanilla scented body wash. Her hands touched me everywhere, working her slippery hands into every inch of my bare flesh, starting with the soles of my feet and the spaces in between my toes and working her way up. She washed my calves, my thighs, my buttocks and (much to my surprise) she worked her slick fingers into the tight furrow between my butt cheeks and soaped me up there.

I don’t normally consider my anus to be an erogenous zone, but when Mrs. Ladd’s fingertips touched me there, I moaned and felt erotic shivers radiate across most of my body. I squirmed as her fingertips rubbed up and down deep within the crack of my ass.

Of course, she didn’t stop there. She got more bodywash on her hands and rubbed her slippery fingers into my underarms, the back of my neck, behind my ears, all over my flat belly and all over my breasts.

Of course, she spent a great deal of time with her hands on my breasts. She cupped my breasts, rubbed bodywash into them and rubbed her thumbs across my nipples until they were swollen, erect and throbbing.

“Ooughhhhhhh,” I gasped as my nipples throbbed and my pussy tingled. And when we were both slick and slippery, she took me into her arms again and rubbed herself up against me. She seemed to take a special delight in rubbing her body up against mine. She rubbed her breasts against my breasts, she rubbed her thighs against my thighs, she even rubbed her pubic lips against my pink, swollen pubic lips.

At some point when Mrs. Ladd and I were both wet and slippery she held me close, planted a few gentle kisses on my shoulder and softly said, “You know that you’re very dear to me, Cheryl.”

I enjoyed the feeling of her naked body pressed close to mine and assured her that I knew.

“After my marriage fell apart, my social life died an agonizing death,” she confided, “My old circle of friends abandoned me, and dating is difficult when you’re a single mother. It seemed easier to just give up. I threw myself into my job, raising a daughter and paying bills. Until my daughter pressured me into having sex with you, I’d given up on ever being sexually intimate with anyone.”

“You’re a very beautiful and intelligent woman, mistress,” I assured Mrs. Ladd, “If you wanted me in your bed, you wouldn’t have had to work very hard to get me there. Even without your daughter’s Bostancı Zenci Escort machinations, I would have been drawn to a woman like you.”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say. Mrs. Ladd made a happy, cooing sound and her mouth covered mine, kissing me passionately. She panted, rubbed up against me and fondled my ass as we kissed and then she slipped her tongue in my mouth.

Mrs. Ladd wasn’t the first woman to rub her naked body against mine, however, the fact that we were both soaking wet and slippery made it sexier somehow. Every touch of her naked skin as it rubbed up against mine resulted in delicious tingling and throbbing sensations.

The way Mrs. Ladd touched me with her hands and rubbed her naked body against mine filled me with a delicious, carnal thrill. And when she ordered me to lick her conspicuously erect nipples, I felt a strange sense of excitement as I obeyed.

Something about Mrs. Ladd being April’s mother added an extra sense of excitement to our erotic games. Having sex with the mother of my mistress was either a sexual taboo or some sort of sign that I was a true slave. Either way, it added a piquancy to our lovemaking that was lacking when I had sex with other women.

Mrs. Ladd arched her back and thrust her breasts forward as I licked and sucked on her nipples. I surmised that she was enjoying the attention of my mouth from her physical reactions, but at some point she said, “Enough”, placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees.

When a slave is forced to kneel and a free-woman’s exposed pubic mound is directly in front of her, there’s no question about what she’s expected to do. Mrs. Ladd didn’t even have to tell to place my face between her thighs, I just did it. At some point Mrs. Ladd had taken to shaving her vulva smooth, so there was no pubic hair to get in the way of my labors. I extended my tongue into the furrow of Mrs. Ladd’s sex and had her gasping in no time.

“Oh God, Yes,” I heard her exclaiming above me, “Right there! That’s the spot!”

This wasn’t the first time I’d ever tonged Mrs. Ladd to an orgasm, however, she seemed much more responsive this time. She reached her climax of pleasure much quicker than normal and when I lifted my head up from her crotch, she almost immediately ordered me to put my tongue back to work.

Mrs. Ladd was insatiable, I ended up taking her hard swollen clit into my mouth and sucking on it until she came a second time. She panted appreciatively but ordered me to stay on my knees and after a brief interval I was ordered back between her thighs again.

It wasn’t until I had completely exhausted Mrs. Ladd’s capacity for orgasms, that she turned off the water and ordered me out of the shower.

Afterwards, we toweled each other dry and she led me out of the bathroom and over to her bed. We both ended up lying down above the blankets, and Mrs. Ladd pulled me close and snuggled my naked body next to hers.

I was still wide awake, and my pussy throbbed with urgent need, but Mrs. Ladd drifted off into peaceful slumber within two or three minutes. I suppose four orgasms in a row can really wear out a woman her age.

* * *

“Over here, pretty girl,” Gretel called out to me when she say me exit from Mrs. Ladd’s room.

Gretel and Coach Jenneke were standing together in the hallway. I padded over to them, Coach Jenneke smiled, gave me an intense look and said, “Gretel and I want to play with you. Cross your wrists behind your back and we’ll get started.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said demurely and crossed my wrists behind my back. And while I stood in front of Coach Jenneke, Gretel stood behind me and produced a length of stout cord. She did a surprisingly thorough job of tightly binding my wrists in cord and making me helpless with a series expert knots that I couldn’t see but were impossible to struggle against.

When Gretel was certain I was helpless, she grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me around and boldly took possession of my nipples, grasping them firmly and painfully between her thumbs and index fingers.

“Ow,” I gasped loudly, “Mistress!”

“Slaves don’t complain about the way they’re treated,” Gretel admonished me.

“Gretel and I are going to have some fun with you,” Coach Jenneke confided, “We’re going to hurt you, but it won’t be any worse than what you can bear.”

I’d been disciplined and punished by Coach Jenneke before. She had an excellent idea how much pain I could bear. She knew my limits and she respected them. Of course, I was already naked, helpless and Gretel was cruelly hurting my nipples. I panted and felt a little bit afraid and a whole lot excited.

“Just follow me,” Gretel said as she ruthlessly pulled on my nipples and walked backwards into one of the bedrooms.

My wrists were bound behind me and Gretel held my poor, abused nipples in her vicelike grip as she backed down the hall, what choice did I have but to follow?

Being pulled forward by my nipples was a new experience for me. I whimpered in pain and gave Gretel a desperate, imploring look, but secretly I felt a dark, tingling feeling of excitement. Something inside of me just craved the sort of abusive, strict, authoritarian attention that I was getting from Gretel.

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