Cheryl's Passion

Ms. Cuthbert was a single mom in her late thirties of early forties, and she lived in a single-family home in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. She wasn't the sort of woman that you'd think of when you thought of a stern mistress doling out harsh punishments to her teenage, lesbian slave-girl.

But, life is filled with surprising anomalies.

Natalie Cuthbert was surprising adept at punishing me and keeping me feeling owned, submissive, chastised and humiliated. However, possessing a slave is a huge responsibility and sometimes it's a job that requires more than just one person.

Ms. Cuthbert had gone online and communicated with a woman named Rosa who had a lot of experience in dealing with lesbian slave-girls. Eventually, Ms. Cuthbert invited Rosa to come visit and display her skills. If she was as skilled at keeping a slave-girl on her toes as she said, Ms. Cuthbert might extend her invitation for the foreseeable future.

I knew that Ms. Cuthbert and Rosa were in communication with each other, however, I found myself surprised, the day that she actually arrived at the Cuthbert residence in person.

There was a knock at the door. Ms. Cuthbert wasn't at home, so Prue went to answer it. I followed a few steps behind Prue, curious to see who it was.

Prue opened the door and said Hello to a tall, impressive-looking woman. She had dark hair, dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips and her face had a look of aristocratic self-confidence.

"I was looking for Natalie Cuthbert," she announced, her accent sounding very British and sophisticated,

Apparently, Prue hadn't been expecting anyone like this to show up at her front door. In addition to her stunning good looks, the woman was wearing a black leather corset, black leggings, stylish black leather boots and a long, black leather jacket that looked new and expensive.

"Natalie Cuthbert?" Prue asked, sounding oddly perplexed.

"I have the right address, don't I?" the exquisite-looking woman asked.

"Address?" Prue asked.

The woman arched an eyebrow and her mouth went tight for a second. Then she tried again.

"Is she here?"

Prue seemed to be having a problem dealing with the leather-clad goddess at the door, so I decided it was best if I intervened. I took a few steps forward and said, "I'm sorry. Ms. Cuthbert is at work right now. She'll be back in a couple of hours." "A couple of hours?" she asked. Then after a brief pause, she said, "I'll be back."

After the stunning woman was gone, I turned to Prue and said, "What happened to you? That woman just said she was looking for you mom and your brain went on vacation."

"She looked like a high-priced sex-worker," Prue replied, "I was stunned to see someone like that at the front door of my house. And even stranger, someone like that wanting to speak with my mom!"

"Okay, it's a little unusual," I admitted, but surely you're adaptable enough-"

"It's like I've walked out of my ordinary, predictable life and into some sort of alternate dimension where my mom has sex appeal and has friends who are supremely hot and overtly sexual."

"Well," I said hesitantly, "There are plenty of people your mom's age who still have sex appeal. I mean Charlize Theron is forty-four years old and she still looks awesome. And then there's Natalie Portman thirty-eight and she has sex appeal in spades. Your mom is in the same age group as those women, so why shouldn't your mom still have sex appeal?"

"She's my mom, okay?" Prue said irritably, "She's not supposed to be sexy and exciting!"

I rolled my eyes at that. There's no rule that says moms must be boring and unattractive. Prue is my friend, but she seems to have some issues where her mother is concerned.

* * *

The stunningly attractive woman turned out to be Rosa Bosworth, a woman Ms. Cuthbert had contacted via the internet to act as a sort of co-mistress. She looked even better in person than she did in her photos.

We saw her again after Ms. Cuthbert returned home. Because of the rules I lived under, I was supposed to be naked whenever Ms. Cuthbert was home. I attempted to strip naked when I saw her pulling up in the driveway, however, there was something wrong with the catch on my bra and I couldn't get it to unfasten until after she was in the house.

"That's a violation of the rules, Cheryl," Ms. Cuthbert said admonishingly, "I have no choice but to punish you now."

"You're right of course," I conceded, "How would you like to proceed?"

I ended up going over her knee, with my ass up in the air and my face a few inches above the floor. My palms were flat against the floor and I felt acutely vulnerable. With Prue watching, Ms. Cuthbert's strong right hand cracked down on my unprotected bottom with amazing force, causing me to cry out in pain. I attempted to brace myself, however the pain was staggering, and each blow stung more than the blow that preceded it. I kicked my legs in a fruitless and ineffectual attempt to deal with the constant smarting blows from Prue's mother.

"Come on, Cheryl, arch your back for me," Ms. Cuthbert demanded. I had difficulty hearing her words as I had already began to cry out in pain and she needed to shout to be heard over the sound of my gasping, screaming and panting.

Obediently I arched my back and raised my bottom for her merciless right hand. I felt utterly overwhelmed, wildly kicking my bare legs, sobbing unrestrainedly and making a display for myself, which made me feel even more humiliated as I knew Prue was watching just a few feet away. I sobbed bitterly, feeling my exposed breasts hanging down and jiggling each time a stinging slap caused my entire body to recoil.

With Prue looking on, Ms. Cuthbert brought her hand down upon the backs of my naked thighs. I cried out in surprise and stinging pain. The blows were even worse than before. Ms. Cuthbert was far stronger than she looked, and the stinging blows came down upon my poor thighs in a whirlwind of agony. And then, finally, the blows stopped.

"Well, Prue," Ms. Cuthbert said after I was sobbing in agony across her lap, "Your friend's bottom is quite red. Do you think she's been punished enough for her transgression?"

"You've hurt her enough," Prue insisted, "She's crying and everything."

"Hear that, Cheryl? You can get up now."

I climbed off Ms. Cuthbert's lap, then I was ordered to go stand in the corner until dinner time. Standing in the corner is a different kind of punishment than I'm used to. As a slave I'm used to having cold, harsh women ogling my naked body and doing agonizing things to me. Standing in the corner and staring at a boring intersection of two walls lacks the sensory stimulation that I crave from domineering females.

I could hear voices and activity coming from the kitchen, but I couldn't see or interact with anyone. This standing in the corner bullshit was a devious sort of punishment. It didn't cause any physical pain, but it seemed to drag on forever. It wasn't exciting. It didn't thrill my senses. It dulled my senses. Being naked was somewhat delicious, but without anyone in the room to ogle my nudity, the thrill of being naked was a lot less thrilling.

It seemed as if I'd been standing there an hour when I was finally told I could get out of the corner, although Ms. Cuthbert told me I'd only been standing there for nineteen minutes.

"Dinner is ready," Prue's mother informed me, "We just need you to set the table."

I padded out into the kitchen, with my rigid nipples and puffy labia fully on display and grabbed a stack of plates so I could begin setting the table. And as I walked away from the kitchen island, that's when I noticed there was someone in the dining room.

"And you must be Cheryl," she declared when the two of us made eye contact.

I set the plates down on the dining room table and moved my hands to shield my naked breasts and vagina. It was an understandable reflex action, however, I was admonished for it.

"Don't cover yourself," the woman rebuked me, "Place your hands behind the back of your neck. I want to get a good look at you."

"Cheryl, this is Rosa," Ms. Cuthbert informed me, "She arrived while you were standing in the corner."

While I stood there feeling humiliated and vulnerable, Ms. Cuthbert explained that the woman who was openly savoring my naked body was named Rosa Bosworth and that she had agreed to be my disciplinarian.

"A disciplinarian is very similar to a master or mistress," Rosa explained, "As your disciplinarian I have a great deal of authority to humiliate, sexually abuse and punish you, however, Natalie has the greatest authority. She sets limits and decides what I'm allowed to do to you. She can order me to desist if she thinks I'm being too cruel in the ways that I deal with you."

Something about Rosa just seemed to compel obedience and respect, and it wasn't just the proper British accent. There was a firmness to the tone of her voice that made her sound calm, authoritative and determined. There was iron in that voice. You could command entire armies with a voice like that. When a voice like that gave you an order, disobedience was unthinkable. It was like her words bypassed my higher brain functions completely and just took control of my body. I could a soft, wet pulse in my vagina as she spoke.

Rosa then ordered me to spread my legs, pull my elbows back and thrust my chest forward. "Now, don't move," she cautioned, "I wish to examine you."

Rosa imperiously ran her hands all over my body. She squeezed my buttocks, she cupped my breasts, she played with my nipples, she felt my thighs, examining them for firmness and placed a hand between my legs and slowly, deliberately inserted two fingers into my sex and explored my moist interior. When she pulled her hand out, she held her fingers up, so I could see how wet I had made them.

"You're quite adorable," Rosa informed me, "However, being adorable won't save you from harsh punishments. I'm here to be your disciplinarian, and that means I need to be cruel to you, no matter how beautiful or infatuating you might be."

"Yes ma'am," I replied timidly.

"I sense that your reply was respectful," Rosa said imperiously, "however, I prefer the title

Mistress.

If you fail to use my preferred title when speaking to me, you will be punished."

"Yes Mistress," I said, "Sorry mistress."

Rosa joined us for dinner and I sat naked at the dining room table while Ms. Cuthbert, Prue and Rosa sat there fully and respectably clothed. It was a reinforcement of my inferior status and it had an emotional effect on me.

Throughout dinner, Rosa asked me questions about my experience as a slave-girl. I was asked about what sorts of bondage I'd experienced, what sorts of corporal punishment, what sorts of humiliation etc. Whatever the question, I tried to answer as truthfully as I could.

"You've experienced a lot for someone so young," Rosa concluded, "It will be difficult for me to give you any BDSM experiences that you will find to be new or original, however, I will attempt to make things interesting for you."

* * *

True to her word, Rosa did make things interesting for me.

That night, while Prue and I slept, Rosa worked down in the basement installing stainless steel plates in the walls, floor and ceiling of the basement. All these plates had D-rings attached to them. As a result, they could be used to anchor ropes or chains, if Rosa wanted to tie or chain up a naked slave-girl in the basement.

And it didn't take Rosa very long to decide that she wanted to take me down to the basement and test out her new bondage abilities.

I don't even remember what convoluted excuse Rosa gave for taking me down there. To them best of my recollection, I hadn't violated any rules. Perhaps it was some sort of ritual, something to mark the occasion of her becoming my disciplinarian. Whatever the reason, I was taken down to the basement the very next morning and stripped naked.

Chains hung from the ceiling and leather wrist restraints dangled from them. Rosa made certain I understood their intent.

"Raise your arms," she instructed, "I want you bound and helpless."

Rosa stood on a stool and Ms. Cuthbert stood on a chair as they buckled leather straps around my wrists and I immediately felt a stirring in my loins. Being naked and helpless is a big turn on for me and Rosa made certain I was both. After my wrists were bound way above my head, more chains were brought out and clipped to D-rings that were attached to metal plates in the floor. Leather restraints were buckled around bare ankles, forcing me to keep my legs far apart.

"What do you think is going to happen next?" Rosa asked, drawing my attention with her oh-so proper British accent.

"Are you going to whip me?" I asked, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

"No, dear," Rosa replied, a wicked grin on her alluring face, "not at this time."

"Nipple torture?" I ventured, "April has done that to me before."

"Some other time," Rosa answered.

"Fuck me with a strap-on?"

"All very interesting ideas, but no," Rosa said, "I want you to learn what it's like to truly be helpless. In the past your mistresses haven't given much thought to long-term bondage, however, it really makes a slave feel helpless, if she's chained up for hours. I could leave you like this all day if I wanted to."

An icy chill went up my spine and I stared at Rosa with disbelief. The prospect of being chained naked and spreadeagled all day long seemed impossible, of course, there was no way for me to stop her if that what Rosa wanted to do to me.

"Please, Mistress," I pleaded, "Not all day!"

"This would be a new experience for you," Rosa assured me, "It will help you to embrace your identity as a slave."

"Ms. Cuthbert," I pleaded.

"Rosa is correct," Ms. Cuthbert insisted, "This is extreme, but you'll need extreme punishments sometimes. Without that intensity, you're not really developing as a slave. You need this."

And with that, my mistresses ended all discussion on the subject, walked up the stairs and locked me in the grim, shadowy basement.

I spent the first hour in the basement struggling to get free of my bonds. Not so much because I wanted to be free, but because I wanted to convince myself that I was helpless. If I had been able to squirm out of the leather restraints, I would have been disappointed.

Once I was assured that escape was impossible, I settled down to savoring the helpless feeling that comes from being completely tied up. Being helpless and all alone is frightening, but also, very exciting. I was breathing hard, my loins were pulsing with a delightful warmth, my nipples were rigid with sexual excitement, and my mind filled with frustration, knowing that there was nothing I could do to gain the sexual satisfaction I so greatly desired. In a twisted sort of way that was part of what I wanted. I was sexually aroused but was unable even to touch myself. It was horrible, but it was also delicious.

For the first hour or two it was titillating, and I was shivering with a delicious eroticism. After thirty minutes or so of being alone in the basement, I struggled against my bonds once again. Of course, my girlish strength accomplished nothing. Chains and tightly buckled leather straps held me with ease. When I desisted, I was panting and assured once again that I could never free myself. I settled down to stand out my penance while my submissive instincts kicked in and the delight of being subjugated by Ms. Cuthbert and Rosa flooded into every ounce of my being.

I had no way of knowing time, and Rosa left me strictly alone. I think I passed my first hour savoring my helplessness. By the end of the third I was tired and wished I could sit down. After a couple more I was very tired indeed and I wondered where everyone was. Ms. Cuthbert was certainly at work by that time, but what of Prue and Rosa? Had they left the house too?

There was no clock down in the basement, nevertheless I attempted to calculate how long I had been down there. Rosa and Ms. Cuthbert had strapped me here around 8:30 in the morning. By my calculations I had endured my helpless predicament for three or four hours, placing the current time around about noon. If Rosa was serious about leaving me bound like this all day long, that would mean at least another five hours. Or six. How long did Rosa mean by all day, anyway? Until the sun set? Until midnight? Certainly, she wouldn't keep chained up in the basement until midnight.

Would she?

Suddenly, I heard the sound of the door being opened at the top of the stairs. I pulled once again against my bonds, but they held, as sturdy as ever. There was a creaking of stairs, but when I could see the identity of my visitor it wasn't Rosa or Prue or anyone I would have expected.

"Hello Cheryl," said the girlish voice.

It was Sarah Waterbury. She and I were friends, although she had only recently found out about my submissive tendencies. I was still uncomfortable with her seeing me being punished or in bondage. I squirmed awkwardly as Sarah ambled closer and looked at my helpless nude body.

Sarah was more comfortable with the situation than I. While I felt vulnerable and embarrassed to have her see me like this, she walked right up to me and captured my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. Without warning, she began to play with my nipples, reigniting my sexual desire. I gasped as she toyed with my pink flesh and felt all tingly once again.

I was grateful for human contact I thrust my chest forward, encouraging Sarah to do more. However, I didn't ask Sarah to fondle me or finger me to orgasm, instead I asked her to set me free.

"Please let me go, Sarah," I implored, "I've been chained up like this for hours."

Sarah held up her left wrist and pointed to her watch, "It's only 10:22, she said, "You've only been down here for an hour and twenty-two minutes."

I looked at Sarah aghast, "That can't be right! It feels like it's been three or four hours!"

"It just feels that way because you're all emotional," Sarah assured me. Then she kissed me and teased my nipples for a few more seconds.

"This wasn't my idea," Sarah insisted, "however, you look very fetching the way you're fixed, all naked and helpless, I think I'm developing a crush on you."

"If you really loved me, you'd set me free from these restraints," I asserted, "This isn't fun. This is cruel and unusual."

Sarah pinched my nipples hard in admonition and said, "Ms. Bosworth told me you might say something like that. I had to promise I wouldn't indulge you. This is for your own good you know. Without cruelty and unusual punishments, you wouldn't really be a slave."

Then her hand slipped down and cupped my pubic lips. My body reacted instantly, my heart fluttered, and I felt a soft, wet pulse in my sex. I desperately wanted Sarah to finger my needy pussy and rub my clit until I screamed in orgasmic glory, however her fingers only brushed across my labia for a few seconds. Then Sarah withdrew her hand.

"Ms. Bosworth thought it might be healthy to keep your libido stimulated," Sarah explained, "I can't set you free, but at least I can make sure your pussy is wet. Maybe the time will pass quicker that way."

Sarah fondled my breasts, suckled my nipples and played with my pussy for a few more minutes, but then she went upstairs and left me alone in the basement once again. Being sexually aroused didn't seem to make the time pass any more rapidly. If anything, my sexual frustration made my punishment seem longer. My clit was swollen and desperate for attention, however my hands were bound frustratingly high above my head. There was no hope of me tending to the craving in my loins. I whimpered and strained against my bonds and felt my pussy spasm, but there was no possibility of relief.