Cheryl's Passion

When you're a slave, your owner can punish you for the flimsiest of reasons. Simone sentenced me to be punished because Stacey and I didn't become lesbian lovers back in high school. I hadn't even realized that I was gay until after I graduated, but that was no excuse. Simone felt that Stacey and I would have made for a cute lesbian couple back in high school, so we were both to be punished for not taking the opportunity to become an adorable lesbian couple when we first met.

Of course, Simone wanted a large crowd to be there to witness my unjust punishment. She was especially adamant that people from my old high school should be there. She felt that my teachers and fellow students had all been wronged by me when I didn't give them the chance to see me and Stacey as a cute, affectionate lesbian couple, so they should get to witness my punishment.

"It makes sense that they should get to see you doing your penance," Simone explained as her guests began to arrive. "You deprived them of something beautiful, so they should get to see you atone for your sins."

Ms. Cleve was there. She had been my twelfth-grade science teacher. She was in her early to mid-forties, and the thought of her watching my naked body twist and writhe as I was whipped made me all squirmy inside.

Ashley Modell was there. Ashely and I weren't close friends back in high school, but we hung out sometimes.

She was something of a fashionista. She always came to school wearing expensive designer clothes by Burberry, Prada, Ralph Lauren, or Versace. And the only times she invited me to hang out with her after school was when I dressed up in something similarly impressive.

I wasn't as obsessed with fashion as she was, so I didn't have a lot of designer clothing in my wardrobe. So, we didn't hang out much after school. I found it ironic that she was suddenly there, eager to be a part of my life when I wasn't wearing any clothes at all. What happened to her obsession with high fashion?

"Chery! It is so good to see you!" Ashley gushed, and she gave me an enthusiastic hug. The fabric of her blazer felt rough against my naked body, especially against my nipples. I could feel them stiffen at the friction when Ashely hugged me tighter and tighter, and my body was pressed closer into hers.

"I wish you had told me you were into all this slave and master stuff back when we were in high school," Ashely proclaimed. "You look so cute now! And you have such firm glutes and abs! Being naked really puts them on display and lets everyone admire how great they look!"

I could feel my face blushing feverishly hot. I had never anticipated that Ashely would ever have an opportunity to see me naked, and now here she was openly inspecting my naked body. Then, to add to my humiliation, she grabbed my buttocks with both hands and squeezed.

"So firm and toned! It's almost like you're a professional dancer or a runway model!"

Suddenly, Ashely's friends, Emily and Robin, were standing there. They crowded around me and agreed that my buttocks looked "extraordinary," and "bewitching" and they insisted that they each needed to grab my butt so they could feel how amazing and firm it felt in their hands.

All three of them were dressed in pencil skirts and stylish, custom-tailored blazers. The way they were so well-dressed and dapper, they made me feel even more naked than before and I could feel my face blushing even hotter as my feelings of exposure grew.

"You could have worn stylish leggings back in high school," Ashley commented. "That would have helped to show off your beautiful buttocks. A girl with a butt like yours shouldn't be hiding what she has! She should put her exquisite assets on display! Your butt is amazing!"

My friends groped my naked body, sliding their hands across my ass and my thighs, and Emily even grabbed my boobs to give them a squeeze before playing with my nipples. She made a comment about how conspicuously erect they were before she gave one of them a pinch.

All of Simone's employees had been invited to come witness my whipping. Her security guard, Joseph, was standing just a few yards away as my high school friends touched me all over. He was young, clean cut, boyish and far too wholesome to understand the appeal of BDSM. But Simone wanted him to be there, to help add to my feelings of embarrassment and humiliation. The more people who saw me naked, the more furiously my heart would pound in my chest as my feelings of helplessness and vulnerability grew.

Elsa was another one of Simone's security personnel. She didn't have Joseph's sense of innocence or wholesome virtue. She felt it was grand entertainment to see a beautiful, naked girl get cruelly whipped and she was eagerly waiting for me to be bound to the whipping post. Even at a distance, I could see a sadistic smile plastered across her face.

Dariia and Sasha made their way past the security guards to get a closer look at me as I was groped. They were both maids. Something about being ogled and at the mercy of the lowest paid of Simone's servants made me feel even more humiliated than being subjugated by Simone. I mean, at least Simeon was a woman of wealth and influence. Maids were just common laborers. It made the lowness of my own status so painfully obvious when I was forced to acknowledge the fact that I could be objectified and abused by lowly, low-paid household servants.

It was extremely humbling.

Of course, in addition to a former teacher, high school friends and Simone's servants, I was also surrounded by Simone's wealthy friends. They all wanted to see Simone's new lesbian sex slave and witness the grand spectacle as she was whipped while helplessly bound at a real whipping post.

Before the whipping began, I greeted all the guests one at a time. Some were warm and affectionate. Others were eager to hear me scream in pain. Then there was Joseph, who was confused about the whole thing, but he was very much enjoying the fact that I was naked.

"You've got a great body," Joseph enthused. "If it were up to me, I'd be grabbing you right now and feeling how smooth your skin is and how toned your ass is, but Simone has some sort of rule. It's like sapphic slave etiquette. Women are allowed to grope you and feel how great your body is, but men aren't allowed to."

"Simone wants me to be used and objectified by women," I agreed. "That's why she bought me. That's my purpose. I think if men were allowed in on the fun, it would lower my value or something."

"Turn around and cross your wrists behind your back," Joseph said as he removed a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs from his utility belt. "I'm not allowed to grope you, but I've been told to handcuff your wrists. Supposedly it will make it easier for the women to grope you."

I took a deep breath and obediently placed my hands behind my back as I turned around. After a series of metallic clicks my wrists were imprisoned tightly in stainless steel. And then Simone sauntered over, with Elsa on her right flank.

"You look so much more helpless and adorable when you're handcuffed," Simone commented. "Also, the way you're bound forces your shoulders back, and thus forces you to thrust your boobs forward."

I squirmed, suddenly feeling twice as naked. Then Stacey was brought over, and Simone addressed her as well.

"Stacey, you're wearing entirely too many clothes. Take them off, so my guests can ogle you as well."

Stacey blushed and looked nervously around at the assemblage of people. She was young and inexperienced with these sorts of kinky games. Her hands tensed up into fists and for a few seconds it looked like she might refuse, but then some of the tension eased out of her body and she asked if Simone would assist her by unzipping her.

Once she was unzipped, she eased the spaghetti straps down her shoulders, and the dress practically slid down on its own. She handed the dress to one of the maids, got out of her high heels and then rolled down her stockings.

Stacey let out a slow, controlled breath. Outwardly, she was attempting to appear calm; inside she was a turmoil of emotions. I knew from my own experiences that feelings of intense humiliation, dread, anxiety, and dark desire were churning around inside of her, each vying for supremacy.

Her pushup bra fastened in the back, and she requested help getting free from that as well. Of course, her body was impressively firm and even after they were released from the confines of her bra, her breasts didn't droop or sag. They were remarkably perky.

Her thong panties didn't cover much, and when she pulled those down her bald pubes were exposed to the security guards, the maids and the attentive gazes of Simone's guests. Her pubic lips were swollen and shamefully visible, broadcasting the humiliating fact that she was turned on by submitting to Simone's authority and humbling herself in front of a crowd of fully dressed spectators. She blushed an even deeper shade of red as her mortification grew.

Not all of Simone's guests were told that Stacey was going to be forced to strip naked. As a result, there were plenty of "Oohs" and "Aahs" as people drank in the sight of the naked teenager.

"Stacey is partially to blame for depriving all of you of one of the cutest lesbian couples imaginable back when she was in high school," Simone announced. "Therefore, she'll need to do some sort of penance as well."

Stacey's wrists were locked in handcuffs behind her back, just as mine were locked behind my back. And then, Simone called upon individuals from the crowd and invited them to come up and take advantage of our helplessness.

Stacey and I stood there naked and handcuffed while two lines of women formed. Some of the women were former teachers. Some of them were former classmates. One of them was the high school librarian. One by one, they stepped forward and took possession of our helpless, naked bodies.

I looked over to my right and saw Stacey getting groped. A woman I barely recognized as a girl from my high school was fondling Stacey's naked body. She cupped Stacey's breasts, squeezed them, and played with Stacey's nipples until Stacey gasped and moaned.

A woman got my attention by grabbing my breast. It took me a second to recognize her, her name was Alina. When I was a student at Fairhaven high, Alina was on the track and field team, the gymnastics team, and the drama club. Her nickname in high school was the energizer bunny.

She had all these extracurricular activities. She seemed to be constantly on the move, doing more than the rest of the students, but she never slowed down or got tired. She just kept going and going and going.

"Your body feels even better than it looks," Alina commented as she kneaded my breasts and toyed with my nipples. She smiled as she studied me intently and then her hand was resting on my lovely curves, and then my hard, erect nipple was made captive in between her thumb and forefinger.

"You know, I used to have dreams about you at night.... extremely naughty dreams. I'm so glad Simone contacted me and invited me to act out some of my sex dreams on you."

I had briefly been on the gymnastics team back in high school. Alina explained that's when she first developed feelings for me. Seeing me in a skintight leotard, doing stretching exercises, got her attention. She was horribly disappointed when I quit the gymnastics team, and she wondered if Simone would let her punish me for that.

"I'm sure she will," I replied as Alina worked her hand between my legs and began to play with my pubic lips. "She's always looking for excuses to punish me."

A wicked smile spread across Alina's face as her hand cupped my exposed sex. I could feel her fingers forcing open the lips of my labia and working their way inside me and I moaned in response.

"Open your legs wider," Alina urged. "That pussy belongs to me now."

I squirmed and gasped but spread my legs indecently far apart. Stacey was just a few feet away, and she was whimpering and panting as another girl from our high school fingered her pussy. It was as if we were Barbie dolls with nerve endings, and everyone could play with us.

Alina worked my labia apart and slid her fingers into my sheath. The interior of my pussy was probed and explored. And while I moaned and squirmed, Stacey did the same. We were both mercilessly fingered until we were on the edge of orgasm.

After Alina had her fun, other women stepped forward to take possession of my body. A couple of them placed their mouths on my nipples and licked them, sucked on them, and even chewed on them, getting them ridiculously hard and erect. They throbbed so insistently they ached, and I desperately wanted some sexual relief, but no matter how much these women touched me, none of them were willing to bring me to orgasm.

"Oh. Ooh. Aaahhh. Aaahhh. Aaahhh," I panted and gasped. The sexual potency built up inside of me until I was certain that nothing could hold back my climax, but then all the hands and mouths released their holds on me, and Simone announced that it was time for us to be whipped.

Simone had paid to have two whipping posts erected on her property. A heavy iron ring was affixed to each whipping post, near the top. Working together, two of Simone's maids tied my wrists securely to the iron ring. Stacey was bound in like manner to the other whipping post, just a few meters away from me.

The knots were far enough above my head so that I could never reach them. No matter how I danced and writhed, the ropes would keep my poor wrists helplessly wedded to the whipping post.

"It'll be fun watching your cute little butt bouncing and swaying uncontrollably," Ashley taunted. "It'll be like you're doing a sexy dance for us."

"I wonder what sort of sounds she'll make," Alina commented. "I bet she screams prettily."

Former teachers, classmates, and other women I knew from high school made comments about how I would react under the whip. Although Stacey was to be whipped as well, Simone had announced that her whipping would be far less severe, so Simone's guests should expect to get less entertainment out of her.

"Everyone will be focused much more intently on you, dear," Ms. Cleve explained. "You're the star of the show."

I rested my head against the solid wood of the post, resigning myself to my fate. My friends, former teachers and Simone's wealthy friends were told to take a few steps back and ready their cameras or camcorders to record my plight. There was some discussion over who would whip me. Simone was my mistress, so it stood to reason that it should be her, but several of the women in the audience asked Simone if they could be the one that wielded the whip.

In the end, Simone agreed to let Ms. Stille whip me.

"I think it's deliciously kinky to have the school librarian whip you," Simone explained. "Librarians are thought of as so quiet and conventional. Nobody ever expects them to do anything exciting or kinky."

Ms. Stille was old enough to be my mother and something about being whipped by her seemed wrong and forbidden. She had an eternally stern, humorless look about her and she wore thick glasses that made her look older than she really was.

Before Ms. Stille whipped me, Simone invited her to run her hands across my smooth, naked skin. The librarian traced her fingertips along across my body, from beneath my raised armpits down to my knees and up and down my inner thighs. A demanding hand thrust itself between my thighs and palmed the moist, swollen lips of my sex.

"Feel free to scream as much as you like, Cheryl," Simone advised as Ms. Stille touched me all over. "I've chosen a wicked whip for Taylor to use on you. And I've given her some tips on how to use it properly."

"All of this smooth skin will soon be sporting painful whip marks," Ms. Stille commented. "I've never actually whipped a girl before, but I understand the basics. Supple leather smacking across a girl's naked skin. It's going to sting."

Outwardly I objected to being whipped by the school librarian. However, deep inside of me, there was a dark, libidinous excitement growing. I felt feverish and my sex pulsed wetly even as I balked at Simone's plans.

Simone patted my ass affectionately and handed the whip to Ms. Stille. Then Simone gave Ms. Stille some last-minute tips on how to grip the handle of the whip, how hard to snap it against my skin and how to hit her target accurately.

Simone took a few minutes, coaching the librarian on the proper way to wield a whip so she could inflict a spectacular amount of stinging pain but not do any real damage. When she was sure Ms. Stille knew what she was doing, she came up behind me, reached in between my thighs and cupped my sex. I moaned loudly, eliciting amused laughter from the crowd.

"I expect you to put on a show as you're whipped," Simone insisted as her fingers massaged my vulva.

"So, move those hips, swish and sway and writhe your naked body in the most suggestive manner possible. Make sexy gasping sounds and look over your shoulder to give the audience plaintive looks like you're begging them for mercy. If you do a good enough job in the role of a sexy damsel in distress, I'll make sure you get an orgasm afterwards. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Then her hand was withdrawn, and I whimpered before responding.

"Yes, Mistress."

It was a heady and intoxicating feeling to be naked, helpless and the focus of a crowd of a fully clothed, prurient audience. My pussy throbbed as I looked out at the crowd of Simone's wealthy friends, servants, and people I knew from high school. I reveled in my feelings of helplessness and submission. The more witnesses there were to my humiliations, the more I felt like a slave.

My pussy throbbed. I was tempted to rub my thighs together, but I remembered that slave-girls aren't supposed to do that sort of thing. Slave-girls are supposed to keep their thighs apart, so that their pubic lips are always on display. Focusing on that idea, I closed my eyes and spread my thighs even further apart, luxuriating in the feelings provoked by my servile, inferior status.

I was naked, my wrists were helplessly bound to the whipping post, and Ms. Stille was holding a very wicked-looking whip. The audience waited for the first painful slash of the whip across my body.

I heard the crack of the leather on bare flesh before I felt the pain. The whip felt like liquid fire across my bare bottom.

"Aaaahhhh!"

I was still recovering from the sting of the first lash when the second crack of the whip across my naked body made me twist and squirm and cry out in painful distress.

"Aaaahhhh!!"

The whip snaked out again and again. The wicked thing stung the backs of both my naked thighs. I twisted and writhed and stamped my feet. For a novice, Ms. Stille did an excellent job inflicting pain.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Jesus!"

She paused between blows, giving me a few seconds to absorb the enormity of pain before she delivered the next scorching sting. I writhed and danced shamelessly as Ms. Stille punished my poor, innocent flesh. I yanked violently against the ropes that bound my wrists, I twisted to the left and to the right, I wildly stomped my bare feet, I jerked my head back, I reflexively kicked my leg out at nothing, but none of my actions did a single thing to protect my naked body from the stinging assault of the whip.

"I love the sounds you're making," Ms. Stille informed me as she paused and gave me a chance to catch my breath. "And the way that you move is so sexy. The way that your ass bounces when you're whipped, it transforms you into the most erotic thing I've ever seen."

I was so obsessed with my own plight that it took me some time to realize that Stacey was being whipped as well. Less than ten feet away from where I was standing, Aline was holding a whip and was using it to redden Stacey's defenseless, naked body.