Cheryl's Passion

Crotch rope.

Simone had developed a fondness for threading cruel ropes between my buttocks and pubic lips and tying them into place. She called this form of abuse "crotch rope." It was painful to have rope embedded into my soft flesh like this and Simone knew it. She liked to see me whimper and squirm in pain.

She liked to take one end of the rope and leave it free so she could use it as a leash. She did that to me just this morning.

The cruel rope was wedged tightly between my poor pubic lips, and when she yanked on the rope the pain in that intimate part of my anatomy intensified.

"Aaaahhhh!"

The crotch rope bisected my pubic lips cruelly, and I could feel my innocent labia becoming chafed as I walked, but Simone insisted that I had to keep walking.

"Slaves are supposed to suffer," Simone explained as the rope dug even deeper into my pussy. "It's not enough for you to be naked and obedient. If you're going to be a slave, you have to be made to suffer. Suffering is a sign of how devoted a slave is to her mistress."

"Ow! Ow! Aaaaahhhhh!"

Apparently, I was a very devoted slave. The pain I was enduring for Simone was excruciating.

Technically, I was my aunt's slave. My Aunt Helen had purchased me at a slave auction, but when she saw how much her friend Simone had become infatuated with me, she gave Simone permission to do whatever she wanted to me. I think my aunt got a perverse thrill out of seeing her white niece enslaved and dominated by a black mistress.

"Your pink slit should be good and sore right about now," Simone observed. "But I think I'll have you walk at least another hundred meters before I take that rope out."

I moaned in response to her words and struggled to keep up as she pulled me forward. My pussy was unbelievably tender, but the rope just kept digging into my tender flesh, making my agony worse and worse. And when Simone finally untied me, she would likely have some other torment in store for me.

Of course, my wrists were bound behind my back with the same sort of rope that was digging into my pussy. It was just another attempt by Simone to make me feel even more helpless. And the way my wrists were bound forced me to pull my shoulders back and thrust my boobs forward.

Barefoot, naked, bound and abused, I was forced to walk forward, pulled along by the rope that bisected my pubic lips. Tears were welling up in my eyes and I was trembling by the time Simone allowed that I'd had enough. And just as she was removing the wicked rope from between my abused nether lips, my aunt came over to inquire how everything was going.

"Your niece is adjusting to life as a lesbian sex slave," Simone informed my aunt. "It's a shame that her slave contract isn't longer. There's only so much I can do with her in the time allotted."

"It is a shame," my aunt agreed as she ran her eyes up and down my body, taking in every inch of my exposed nudity. "If I had my way, she'd be forced to serve as my slave for two or three years. It would truly benefit her to experience long-term slavery."

Grabbing my arm, my aunt then made serious eye contact. "It would improve you so much, Cheryl," she said. "Just imagine how humble and obedient you'd become if I could have you for three years."

The idea of being my aunt's slave for three years filled me with unspeakable dread, but I couldn't say that out loud. I had to be polite or risk severe punishment. Instead of saying how I truly felt, I demurely replied, "Yes, Aunt Helen."

It was the right thing to say, but my aunt didn't feel that I'd been sufficiently humiliated, so she ordered me to get down on my hands and knees to kiss her feet.

It was humbling and degrading, and I hated doing it. And that is exactly why my aunt ordered me to get down on the ground and kiss her Jimmy Choo pumps. I kissed the black leather of her expensive shoes respectfully. She smiled and told Simone that she was doing an excellent job of breaking my spirit.

"Keep up the good work," she said, looking only at Simone as she smacked me on my bare buttocks three times in rapid succession.

"You can stand up now, Cheryl," she said, addressing me with a look of cruel disdain.

Although I loathed being abused and humiliated by my aunt, I had developed a bizarre sort of affection for Simone. I adored her dominance over me, and I felt as if I truly belonged to her. There was no logical way to explain it, but I felt an intense urge to be her slave, to be objectified and punished by her.

* * *

Once my aunt was no longer in the vicinity, Simone led me over to an ancient-looking pillory and ordered me to stand next to it. The wood was weather-worn, and the yoke looked thick and imposing. Simone lifted the top half of the yoke and ordered me to bend over and place my neck and wrists into the indentations of the lower half.

I gave Simone a pleading look. Locking a girl in a pillory was a cruel way to immobilize her. Once bent over and locked into the medieval punishment device, my ass would be raised up and shamelessly on display. It would be an open invitation to all passersby to come and smack my buttocks, grab my ass or play with my pussy. My hindquarters would be utterly at the mercy of anyone and everyone.

Simone showed me no mercy. I felt a sense of utter helplessness and vulnerability as she lowered the top half and locked the yoke, trapping my wrists and neck. Once the padlock was locked into place, I was utterly helpless to protect or even see the lower portions of my body.

The way I was bound, I couldn't see anything behind me, but I felt hands on my inner thighs, urging me to spread my legs extremely far apart.

I felt Simone's hands on my butt cheeks. She sank her fingers into my flesh and spread my buttocks well apart, leaving my anus and my swollen pubic lips pornographically exposed.

"This is such a beautiful sight," Simone commented as she held my butt cheeks apart. "I can't keep this to myself. I have to share it."

I groaned helplessly and before too long a crowd had gathered behind me. I couldn't see any of the people back there as the yoke of the pillory cruelly obscured my vision, however, I could hear voices as well as the sounds of human activity.

"Feel her, if you like," Simone, called out, inviting total strangers to play with my naked body. "She can't do anything to stop you. She's totally at my mercy."

There was a long, silent pause and I wasn't sure if the people back there were going to grope me or not. Were they hesitant? Were they eager? Did they have some sort of inhibitions or hangups about publicly groping naked women? I couldn't see, so I had no idea what sort of fate was in store for me.

Then I felt a hand pawing at my vaginal lips, stroking tentatively at first and then pulling my labia painfully far apart. Next, I felt a finger poking into the folds of my pubic lips. My pubes were still raw and tender from the rope biting into them and even the gentlest exploration of my genitals was painful.

"She is adorable," I heard a female voice comment as my sensitive pubic lips were stroked and petted.

I squirmed and whimpered as my raw, reddened pubic lips were touched. The people playing with my pussy must have recognized that I was in pain, but I was sure that rather than feeling sympathy for my plight, they found my suffering delicious.

"Keep making those noises," a female voice urged. "You sound adorable when you make noises like that."

"I love her ass," one female voice opined. "It's so small and cute and perfectly shaped."

"I agree, but it barely has any color," responded another. "Shouldn't she be spanked or whipped? Aren't slaves supposed to get their asses reddened on a regular basis?"

"Do you have a whip?" somebody asked.

There was a murmur of conversation as the gathering of people behind me discussed what options existed for reddening my bottom. It seemed that nobody had a whip, so they explored other options, such as riding crops, leather straps, paddles or belts.

There was a spirited discussion, but it seemed that no one had anticipated the need to redden a slave girl's naked bottom and they'd all come unprepared. In the end it was decided that I'd have to be spanked bare handed.

I couldn't see any of the people behind me, but it sounded as if they had formed a line and were going to take turns spanking me. I had no idea how many people were back there, but it sounded like a lot. I squirmed at the thought of my bare bottom being the victim of a gang spanking, and then the first swat landed on my upraised buttocks.

"Ow!"

"Ooh! I love the way her butt bounces when it's smacked! So sexy!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

I exclaimed as an anonymous assailant assaulted my bare buttocks. My bare feet stamped, and my hips jerked reflexively as if these spontaneous reactions would somehow boost my body's ability to cope with the abrupt, stinging pain.

There was a pause each time one woman stepped away and another woman took over. Each woman was different, some smacked my ass in rapid succession, others were slower and more methodical. Some concentrated on the lower curve of my buttocks and the tops of my thighs, others were more interested in the central curve of my ass.

All in all, I think seven women spanked me, although I couldn't be certain as I couldn't see what was going on back there.

"Your ass looks very red now, Cheryl," Simone assured me after my hindquarters had been mercilessly spanked by an endless series of vicious female hands.

"It's a shame you can't appreciate the view, like I can. The color is gorgeous. You should be spanked like this every day. The bright red hue truly enhances the beauty of your bottom."

I groaned at this comment as fingertips stroked the soreness of my poor, abused buttocks. Suddenly there was an unexpected sensation of something cold and oily being smeared into the sensitive flesh of my anus. I felt my buttocks pried apart, my anus forced open, then felt a finger thrust into me.

"

Aaahhh!"

"She's very tight," I heard a female voice say as her finger probed and twisted inside of me.

The finger continued to wriggle impudently inside me, teasing my tight channel until my anus clenched against it. Then the finger was pulled free from my tight orifice, so suddenly that I whined with quiet alarm.

Two fingers entered me next, twisting and hurting. My eyes welled up with tears and I whimpered as the woman's fingers abused my tender, delicate, tight fissure. At long last the probing digits were removed from deep in my anus.

I have issues with anal penetration, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief, however, my relief was short lived.

"Tight little thing," another woman's voice commented as a stronger finger prodded at my anus and forced my delicate orifice open. The finger that speared me was longer and thicker and speared me deep.

"I've got a large dildo and a strap-on harness," one woman commented as my asshole was fingered. "Would anyone like to watch me rape her ass?"

"So, you don't have a whip, but you have a strap-on dildo? Girl, where are your priorities?"

There was some back and forth about how it was more important to whip slaves than to fuck them, but in the end, it was decided that everyone wanted to see my tight, virginal ass get violated.

I groaned. There was an intermission of sorts while the requisite equipment was fetched, and I trembled nervously at the thought of my ass being raped. Simone could tell I was unhappy, and she patted my bottom and told me that I would look cute getting my poor anus impaled by a stranger.

My pubic lips were stroked again, and my pussy was expertly fingered. Before long, my sex was throbbing wet, and I stopped worrying about my impending anal rape. I could feel an orgasm building in strength inside of me and I panted shamelessly as wicked fingers impaled my vagina and drove me closer and closer to orgasmic bliss.

"

Ooooohhhhh!"

At the last minute, the fingers were withdrawn, and I moaned in protest. I had been taken right to the edge of orgasm and at the last second, I was denied orgasmic release.

The woman standing behind me laughed at my sexual frustration. My suffering was a source of amusement for them.

"If you didn't want sadists to control your orgasms, you never should have become a slave," one of the women said mockingly.

I had an angry retort on the tip of my tongue, but before I could say anything, I felt hands on my sore bottom as my buttocks were pried apart and strong fingers pressed gently, firmly, against my asshole.

I moaned as I felt a finger or thumb stroking the tender flesh of my anus. I flinched involuntarily as I felt that tender, pink hole being probed, gently at first, and then more forcefully.

The finger probed and pushed against my asshole, and I panted and felt more helpless and subjugated than before. I knew what must come next and I dreaded it, but I was naked and bound and hopelessly outnumbered. And with that thought of utter defenselessness and submission I felt the tip of the fake cock touch my tight anus.

With the help of lots of lubricant and some insistent thrusts, my anus finally opened up and the rounded head of that dreaded dildo pushed inside of me.

"Aaaghhhh,"

I gasped as the large phallic weapon breached my tight, virginal anal opening.

The phallus pressed deeper into my tight anal cavity. I panted, gradually embracing the feeling of being overwhelmed, overcome by an unseen sadist.

"That's a good girl," a woman's voice said softly as if she were talking to a skittish animal. "Open up for me. Keep those legs nice and wide and don't resist as I work it in and out of your cute, perfectly shaped ass."

I could feel the dildo thrust deep into my tight orifice, surely as far as it would go. The big, powerful cock forced me open, and my tight anus was stretched painfully wide as she raped me again and again.

The heavy wooden yoke trapped my wrists and my neck, making it impossible for me to fight back or resist the wicked stranger gripping my hips, the monstrous invader sliding in and out of my ass. My breathing became more ragged, and I reveled in my feelings of helplessness and degradation. I was suffering, but my suffering had a dark, sensual thrill of intense pleasure mixed inextricably into it.

* * *

Simone understood that feelings of helplessness and victimization were a huge turn on for me. She was constantly finding new and creative ways to abuse, humiliate and objectify me. She turned the subjugation of naked girls into an art form.

Though Simone was an artist, my aunt was just a vindictive bitch. She wanted to abuse and humiliate me, but not because she knew it would arouse me. She wanted to abuse and humiliate me because she had a grudge against my mother. Hurting me was her way of getting back at my mom.

That evening I was told that Aunt Helen had some special guests for dinner, and one of the servants told me that I would be trotted out in front of them as entertainment after their meal was over.

"Maintain posture," the maid said before I was marched into the dining room. "A slave should stand straight whenever possible, back arched, shoulders back and chest thrust forward. Never allow your knees to touch, and don't speak to any of the guests unless spoken to. Only free women are allowed to speak freely. I'll be watching you to make certain that you behave."

I stood as straight as I possibly could. I walked into my aunt's elegant dining room and got my first look at the women seated at her dining room table. Apparently, my aunt's social circle included some celebrities. I recognized three of the women who were in attendance immediately.

One of them was an extraordinarily well-paid news anchor, one of them was the attorney general for the state of Florida and another was a bestselling author. There was a fourth woman seated next to my aunt I didn't recognize. She was attractive in an austere, professional sort of way, crisply tailored in a black business suit. My impression was that she was likely a very successful lawyer or certified public accountant.

These women were all successful career women, while I was a naked slave girl with my boobs, swollen pubic lips and buttocks indecently on display.

"You seriously turned your niece into a lesbian sex slave?" the bestselling author said. "That's the kinkiest thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"She's blushing," the news anchor commented. "I think she's embarrassed."

"Oh, good," the attorney general said. "It's so much more fun when they're humiliated. It wouldn't be any fun if she were enjoying herself."

These were all successful women, but apparently, they enjoyed watching other women suffer and squirm. Some women out there are supportive of other women and want their fellow sisters to do well. Then there are women who are sadistic bitches, who can only enjoy their success if they're allowed to make lesser women suffer and feel inferior.

All of these women were from the second group.

"I have an idea to make her even more unhappy," my aunt explained. "A grand spectacle of humiliation. I think you'll appreciate it."

As if on cue the maid returned to the dining room carrying a barstool in one hand and a large dildo with a suction cup base in the other.

"My niece's orgasms are rationed," Aunt Helen explained to her guests. "She's constantly in a state of sexual need. She'll do anything to get the sexual release that she so desperately needs."

"You've turned her into a libidinous slut," the best-selling author commented.

"Precisely," my aunt replied. "And I think it could be amusing to sit and watch as my niece bounces up and down on this horse-sized cock."

I felt ten times more naked as the well-dressed, affluent women stared and waited for me to impale myself on the flesh-colored dildo. It was at least ten inches long and ridiculously thick. I had serious doubts about getting that thing inside of me. I mean...

could

I even fit that monstrosity inside of me?

The maid assisted me in impaling myself on the intimidating phallus. She produced a bottle of lube from somewhere and drizzled some into the palm of her hand before she rubbed her lubed fingers up and down across my already swollen pubic lips.

The dapper, affluent women smirked as the maid worked my pubic lips apart and pushed her fingers inside me. I could feel my face heat up with intense embarrassment as the maid probed my vagina with her fingers, finding my most responsive nerve endings and eliciting moans from my girlish lips.

"She sounds like a slut," the news anchor said. "Just listen to her moan!"

"She should be doing porn," another woman said. "Just look at the way she's moving her hips! Total slut!"

When it was obvious that the interior of my pussy was wet, the maid took the imposingly thick dildo and positioned the head of it at my pussy entrance, rubbing it up and down across my pussy lips and over my already engorged clit.

The maid helped me slide onto the dildo, which by this point was sticking straight up from the stool. I was standing but with slightly bent knees. At the urging of the women in the room, I lowered myself slowly onto the head of the dildo. The flesh-colored thing was large enough that I had to slide up and down slowly quite a few times before I absorbed its entire length and was impaled on the full length of its shaft.

The feeling of being stretched so wide elicited an involuntary groan from deep within my throat; each time I absorbed a little the thought of so much more of this monster still to go made me shudder.

"Spread your legs wider, Cheryl!" my aunt commanded sharply and then she pulled out a digital camera to take pictures of me taking in that huge cock like some sort of slut. Her friends, prompted by her example, pulled out phones and digital cameras to record my shame as well.