Cheryl's Passion

My aunt gave Simone authority over me to crush my spirit. However, I grew to adore Simone's dominance over me. I became utterly compliant and devoted to her. I had no dignity in my surrender whatever. I scampered to obey her every command.

Of course, I never told my aunt of my feelings for Simone. I preferred that my aunt believe I was miserable as Simone's slave. My ass was constantly blush pink or stinging red from all the punishments Simone inflicted on my naked skin, so it wasn't difficult for my aunt to believe I was miserable in my captivity. Most girls would hate to be constantly naked, sexually abused and subjected to a constant stream of cruel punishments and humiliations.

As my mistress, Simone declared that I would have to participate in a rigorous exercise program. Although I was a healthy, athletic girl who was no stranger to exercise, Simone found ways to make all my physical training painful and humiliating.

Before she took me for my walk, Simone bound my arms behind me in a box tie. This type of bondage pulled my shoulders back and forced me to thrust my breasts forward.

In addition to tying my arms, Simone also used rope to make a leash for me. Now, usually, a leash is attached to a slave's collar, but Simone had different ideas.

I watched with curiosity and trepidation as Simone snaked rope between my legs and pulled it tightly between my buttocks. She continued to pull on the nylon rope and worked it tight between the sensitive folds of my pubic lips. While she was doing this, one of my aunt's servants rook another length of rope and tied it tightly around my waist. The two of them worked together; in seconds the rope between my pubic lips was tied off to the one around my waist in back and threaded up through my waist rope in front, then tugged tight. It was long enough that Simone could pull on it like a leash to lead me around.

Simone tugged on my leash and urged me forward. Walking with a piece of rope lodged tightly between my pubic lips was painful, but if I didn't move forward at Simone's pace, she would pull sharply on the rope leash and the rope would dig even deeper into the tender flesh of my pussy. Walking at her speed was my best option.

Simone led me out from my aunt's spacious back yard and forced me to walk for miles. First the road was dirt and gravel, then she detoured off the dirt road and led me out onto Ash Lane. I was terrified of walking along the shoulder of Ash Lane as it was a paved road designed for vehicular traffic. What if somebody drove by and saw me? I was naked, gagged, bound, and being led around by a leash bisecting my pussy! How could I explain my predicament? Or rather how could Simone explain my predicament? I was gagged and couldn't say a word!

Thankfully, Ash turned out to be a remote, quiet road that didn't see a lot of traffic. All the same, there were still some people who used it and I blushed furiously with embarrassment whenever someone saw me.

The most memorable witness from my first day of physical training was a fit, attractive young woman in spandex activewear and a bicycle helmet. She was riding her bike and came across Simone and me out for our walk. I squealed in terror through my gag as she approached and felt a surge of panic in my chest. Upon seeing a naked girl, bound and helpless, I was certain that she'd call the police and I'd be forced to explain my predicament to some stern-faced, humorless police officers.

Much to my shock, the bicyclist slowed down, took a good long look at me, smiled, and then resumed pedaling, leaving my mistress and me far behind.

"Mmmmmfffff!"

I shouted around the gag, surprised that she acted so casually at the sight of a naked, gagged, and abused woman on a rope leash.

Simone gave me a look, raised one eyebrow, and explained, "The area your aunt lives in is called Splendor Oaks. It's populated almost exclusively by wealthy sexual deviants. I guarantee you; this isn't the first time the residents have seen a naked slave being forced to walk down this road."

Simone continued the tradition of taking me out naked in public and walking me on a leash. Bicyclists and motorists openly stared at my naked body, and I could do nothing to conceal the most secret parts of my anatomy as Simone always bound my arms behind my back.

On day three of this humiliating tradition, the loss of my dignity became even more pronounced as an athletic woman in stylish jogging gear came running down the road at a steady gentle pace. When Simone noticed her, she ordered me to halt, making it easy for the jogger to close the distance between us.

When the jogger got closer, I recognized her face and a wave of mortification washed over me. Her name was Dr. Amant and she worked at the Lago County Medical Center. That was where my doctor worked, and a surge of dread washed over me as I realized from now on, every time Dr. Amant saw me, she would remember me naked, bound and gagged, with my pubic lips shamefully bisected by the nylon rope that Simeon used as a leash to lead me around.

"Uhhh Ughhh,"

I screamed into my gag. It was impossible for Simone to understand my words, but I hoped she at least understood the feelings of desperate panic I felt at having this woman seeing me so exposed and degraded.

"Simone," Doctor Amant greeted my mistress cheerfully, "I didn't realize you had a slave!"

"Hello, Andreea," Simone responded. "Technically she doesn't belong to me. She belongs to Helen."

The two affluent women chatted like old friends (which I suppose they were) and ignored me while they caught up on each other's personal lives. It took Doctor Amant a few minutes to recognize me as someone that she knew. I suppose my bare breasts and shaved pubes grabbed her attention at first and kept her from focusing on my face.

"Hey, I know that slave!" Doctor Amant exclaimed. "That's Cheryl Munroe! She's one of Doctor Forsythe's patients!"

With the gag in my mouth, my groan was barely audible.

Once she realized who I was, I felt myself blushing furiously. I felt twice as naked as she got an amused glint in her eyes and looked me up and down, examining my bound nudity with a whole new attitude. Now that she knew my identity, she was getting a whole new level of enjoyment, ogling my breasts, my erect nipples and my bisected pubic lips.

"Cheryl always seemed so innocent and wholesome," Doctor Amant said as she maneuvered behind me so she could examine my buttocks and give them a good squeeze. "I never realized that she was the sort of girl who would enjoy being stripped naked and led around on a leash for dominant women to gawk at."

Then she gave my butt a playful slap.

"She's actually new to the whole bondage and public humiliation thing," Simone explained.

"So, she just jumped right into the deep end of the pool on her very first day?" Doctor Amant inquired as she closely examined my pubic lips and the rope that was buried tightly in between them.

"Something like that," Simone confirmed.

The way I was bound forced my shoulders to be pulled far back and thus my breasts were thrust forward. Doctor Amant pointed out how the way I was bound made my breasts more prominent. She enjoyed talking about I was forced to display my boobs like a slut. She was fascinated with my naked body and insisted on touching me all over. She began by cupping my breasts, enthusiastically squeezing them and playing with my already erect nipples, causing them to stiffen even more.

The good doctor ran her hands all over my body, tweaking my nipples, stroking my exposed pubic lips, feeling up my thighs and buttocks and squeezing my breasts hard enough to hurt.

She was fascinated with the bondage aspect of my slavery. She took her time and leisurely inspected the ropes that bound my wrists and arms. Then she spent an inordinate amount of time running her fingers over the rope that was tightly wedged between my buttocks and pubic lips. She yanked on it suddenly, pulling it deeper inside of me and eliciting a plaintive moan that was muffled by my gag.

That drew Dr. Amant's attention to my gag. The gag was uncomfortable, and it was impossible to wear it for any period of time without drooling around it.

"It seems to me that our teenage slave is unhappy at having to wear a gag." Doctor Amant said teasingly. "Are you unhappy Cheryl?"

It was embarrassing having Dr. Amant point out the way that the gag forced me to drool and the way my own saliva dribbled down my chin. I squirmed both physically and emotionally at the way Dr. Amand examined me and increased my feelings of helplessness and embarrassment.

It was horribly degrading to be examined so crudely and libidinously by somebody I knew. It left me feeling objectified and abused; it also, however, gave me a strange, dark, heady thrill. My body broke out in a fine sheen of sweat as I was groped and ogled, and a flood of breathless excitement surged through my body.

"Do you mind if I tag along when you lead your slave back to Helen's estate?" the doctor asked. "I'd like to see what sort of humiliations are in store for Helen's naked slave-girl."

I felt that Doctor Amant had seen enough of me being humiliated to last a lifetime. I was opposed to her being given more opportunities to ogle and objectify me but when I attempted to voice my objections, the gag in my mouth reduced my words to incoherent murmurings.

Once we returned to my aunt's estate Simone began to untie me. First she untied the ropes that bound my wrists, then she untied the rope around my waist. I groaned when she removed the cruel, intrusive rope from between my poor, inflamed sex lips.

I was sweaty and dirty from walking for miles on dirt paths and the shoulder of the road. Simone declared that I needed to be cleaned up. I assumed that meant I'd be escorted inside and groped by my aunt's maids as they bathed me in the tub, but Simone had other ideas.

I was led to the rear of the main building and ordered to get down on all fours. I was confused at first and would have asked Simone what she had in mind, but that damn gag was still in my mouth.

"Any housewife or career woman can get clean in the shower," Simone explained. "Slaves get cleaned up in the back yard with the garden hose."

Simone had a talent for making me feel like I was a real slave. There I was, naked, gagged, on my hands and knees on the grass, and she was about to spray me down like a pet dog. It was a clever way to rob me of my dignity and keep me in the mindset of an owned and subjugated slave.

I was immersed in feelings of submissiveness and enjoying how Simone's skillful use of abuse and humiliation made my fantasies come alive and feel real. I was so immersed in fact, that I failed to consider how the water from that garden hose would be agonizingly cold on my soft, warm skin and a shock to my nervous system.

I saw the hose being pulled around in front of me. The faucet creaked on slowly, then I felt the cold water splashing on my tits and I screamed into my gag. It was so cold it stung. I screamed into the gag and collapsed helplessly onto my side. The agonizingly cold spray was a shock to my nervous system and my body rebelled against the freezing cold assault on my naked skin.

"Get back on your hands and knees, Cheryl," Simone admonished me sternly. "I was told that you're a strong girl! I wasn't expecting you to fall apart when confronted with a little adversity!"

She continued to spray me down, focusing the cold spray on my breasts and sensitive nipples. I was still recovering from the shock of fiercely cold water on my naked skin and had difficulty concentrating on her words. Then she said something that cut through my physical suffering and made my brain focus.

"You don't want to disappoint me, do you, Cheryl?"

Getting back into position while being tormented by that cruel spray was a herculean ordeal; however, it was to win Simone's approval and that was a powerful motivator.

Suffering on Simone's behalf and struggling to please her felt right to me somehow. I had a potent need to struggle, suffer and be controlled. But I couldn't be subjugated by just anyone. I needed someone that impressed me with her strong will, ingenuity and physical beauty. Simone checked off all my boxes and my whole body throbbed with need for her.

Then, at Dr. Amant's urging, the jet narrowed and intensified, seeking those areas of my being where it hurt most: my nipples, my pubic lips, my anus. My body was urging me to curl up tightly in the fetal position, but I ignored the urgings of my body and remained on my hands and knees.

"Shift your knees wider apart, pretty girl," Simone commanded. "I want your pussy to be an easy target for the hose."

My self-preservation instincts were urging me to close my legs together tightly and protect my tender pubic lips, but my mistress was ordering me to spread my legs wide apart. I struggled to overcome my self-preservation instincts and worked my knees further apart.

"Wider still," Simone demanded.

I swallowed and reluctantly obeyed, spreading my legs far apart and putting my pussy indecently on display. I squealed into the gag as Simone aimed the cold, punishing spray directly at my anus. Then, she switched targets and directed the sharp, biting spray at my plump, sensitive pubic lips.

Simone brought the nozzle up to my poor, abused pink slit and forced the lips of my sex apart with the intense, narrow spray. I gasped as the water sprayed inside of me. That was painful, and yet the pain had a dark, sensual thrill of pleasure to it. The ache between my legs became a sharp, stinging pleasure, and much to my shock, an orgasm began to build deep inside my loins.

My moans were silenced by the cruel gag in my mouth, but as my sore pussy was abused the sexual pressure inside of me became more powerful. I found myself moving my hips in a shameless, whorish manner as the cruel spray of the hose sharply forced my pubic lips apart.

The pleasure was painful, but the pain was a dark, sexual thrill. I gasped and moaned as my soft, pink pussy was tormented. I discovered that by angling my hips and pelvis slightly I was able to position my clitoris directly into the path of the punishing spray from the hose. I hissed and gasped at the sharp, stinging pain, but the pain rapidly coalesced into a cocktail of pain and pleasure.

The pleasure became a scalding, overwhelming need. It was so intense, I cried out in both agonizing pain and carnal pleasure, the gag smothering the intensity of my screams. My hips bucked, my entire body shuddered, and I gave a sob of orgasmic pleasure. I jerked and bucked and cried out as the orgasm went on and on and seemed as if it would never end. I twisted and squirmed and surrendered to the sexual power that had been unleashed by the cruel spray from Simone's wicked hose.

The most intense orgasm of my young life surged through my body. I shook and shuddered spasmodically as wave after wave tore through me and I screamed my desperate, girlish screams into my gag. I was still screaming when I passed out.

* * *

When I regained consciousness, I was no longer out in the back yard. I'm not sure how long I was blacked out, but I felt as if it had been hours. I was no longer gagged, no longer wet and freezing cold. I was warm and dry and lying on a soft, comfy bed. Then I attempted to sit up.

Not possible. I was chained down to the bed, spread-eagle. Leather restraints buckled securely around my wrists and ankles held my arms and legs far apart, leaving me open and vulnerable.

I savored my feelings of helplessness; there was something delicious and erotically charged about being naked and bound and at the mercy of dominant women. I tried to close my legs together and found the task to be quite impossible no matter how much I strained and struggled. Something about that excited me and a girlish moan escaped my lips as I luxuriated in my captivity.

I was confused but thrumming with thrilling sensations of sexual heat and pleasure. I think some of the afterglow from my intense orgasm still lingered. I heard Simone's voice in the shadowy darkness of the room saying, "Oh, good. You're awake."

The illumination was dim. Here and there, flickering flames from short, fat candles made it possible for me to make out the figure of my mistress. She was gloriously naked, and the delicious curves and muscles of her body were highlighted by the eerie lighting.

My heart thudded happily in my chest. My mistress had a beautiful body. I treasured the opportunity to see it on those rare occasions when she took her clothes off in my presence.

"I'm dry and indoors," I half-questioned. "The last thing I remember I was in the backyard, soaking wet and getting impaled on a hose nozzle."

My pussy was still sore. Still, the memory of being tormented by the cold spray against my tender, pink slit made me wet between my legs. I squirmed and thought of it as a form of lesbian rape...which I belatedly realized was a turn-on for me.

"Andreea and I dried you off after you passed out," Simone explained. "I carried you upstairs. I kept thinking that you would regain consciousness and be able to walk on your own two feet, but you were overwrought. Andreea advised that you should be allowed to sleep and regain your strength."

"She examined you thoroughly after you passed out," Simone explained. "She didn't find any significant physical damage. She said that the level of pain intensity was more than you could bear just yet, so you passed out due to sensory overload. She's a medical doctor so I deferred to her opinion."

I squirmed and tugged lightly against my bonds and softly asked, "How long was I unconscious?"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Simone replied congenially. "You're awake now. How are you feeling?"

"Helpless," I replied honestly. "I'm spread-eagled and chained down,"

"You respond well to bondage," Simone replied. "You breathe faster, your pupils become dilated, your face becomes flush, and you lick your lips in a suggestive way. It helps to keep you from being bored."

Simone understood me in some ways better than I understood myself. A part of me wanted Simone to release my wrists and ankles from their bondage, but another part of me was hoping she'd keep me helpless with my legs bound pornographically far apart forever.

Before I got a chance to discuss my feelings further, Simone crawled on top of me and pressed her naked body onto me. Her naked breasts pillowed against mine and I moaned at the intimate physical contact.

Then she gripped my hair and covered my mouth with hers. She thrust her tongue into my mouth as her breasts rubbed against mine. I opened wide, accepting her invasion of my mouth, and sighed as her tongue danced across mine.

It was exciting, being helpless while Simone took possession of my naked body. And it became even more exciting as she withdrew from my mouth and began to lick her wicked tongue down the side of my neck, my collarbone, my breastbone and then finally to my heaving breasts.

"Simone," I gasped as she trapped one of my responsive nipples securely between her teeth and began to both suck on it and flick her tongue across it.

"Mistress," Simone admonished me softly, looking up from my puffy, glistening wet nipple. "You must always address me as Mistress. Otherwise, you're violating slave etiquette and you'll have to be punished."

"Mistress," I corrected myself. My throat felt thick and constricted. I felt feverish, could barely speak, and Simone drew my nipple back into her mouth, stimulating it with her tongue, making it hard for me to think. My nipple throbbed as my mistress sucked and lapped at my hard, pink nub.

"Aaahhh,"

I gasped, arching my back, pushing my breasts higher as if urging greater contact between her mouth and my erect nipple. My whole body tingled with an intense, intoxicating sensation as Simone resumed kissing me and reached beneath me to grab a handful of my bare ass.