Cheryl's Passion Ch. 05.0

"I'm fine, mistress," I said, sounding much braver than I felt, "Don't worry about me."

"You're being very heroic," Mrs. Ladd assured me, "If it were me tied to that post, I'd be scared out of my wits, and trembling like a leaf. I'm very proud of you, darling, the way you keep your chin up and don't let this crush your spirit."

"There is a sexual thrill in all of this," I reminded Mrs. Ladd, "Belonging to you, being punished for you, being unable to escape, being constantly naked, there's a delicious sexual thrill to it all. Even when I'm afraid of an impending punishment, the fear is delicious. If you were to place a hand between my legs right now, you'd find that my vulva is soaking wet."

And then, much to my surprise, Mrs. Ladd reached in between my thighs and cupped my sex.

"It's true," Mrs. Ladd confirmed, holding up her now glistening with my juices, "Your vulva is soaking wet."

Then, a tall, lithe woman in a very smart-looking uniform gracefully trod over behind Mrs. Ladd. She had a cold, unforgiving look in her eyes, and she was carrying a whip in her right hand. She placed her left hand on Mrs. Ladd's shoulder, and informed her that my punishment was about to commence.

"It would probably be best if you joined the rest of the spectators behind the yellow tape," the woman in the smart uniform explained.

"Of course, Sabina," Mrs. Ladd replied, "I'll head over there right away."

I watched my mistress amble back to join her daughter and the rest of the crowd. When she was behind the tape, we weren't separated by more than fifty feet, however it might as well have been fifty miles. As soon as she put more than an arm's length between us, my courage started to falter.

The woman with the whip gave me an intense look and said, "My name is Sabina, but you will call me Mistress. Christina Ladd hired me to be your disciplinarian. On my W-9, my occupation is listed as a live-in housekeeper, however I was mostly hired to keep an eye on you, make certain that you are properly groomed, worked hard, given strict rules to follow and cruelly punished whenever you fail to follow the rules."

Sabina had an East-European accent. I couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was Romanian, perhaps it was Moldavian, perhaps it was Ukrainian. I wasn't very good with accents.

Then a certain part of my brain kicked in and told me to prioritize. This woman was holding a whip, and she just told me that she was hired to be cruel and punish me every time she caught me breaking the rules. Wasn't that more important than her national origins?

The whip she was holding looked wicked and painful. I'm fairly certain it was a buggy whip. I'd never seen one up close, but I'd seen old photos of horse & buggy drivers. They used a whip like the one Sabina was holding, to inspire horses to run. If Sabina's whip stung enough to drive a horse, how much was it going to sting if she used it on me?

Then she began to gently stroke my lower back, buttocks and thighs with her left hand, while holding the horsewhip up where I could easily see it, with her right. And then she said, "Those people in the audience are expecting a show. They are expecting to see the cute blonde girl scream when she is whipped by the cruel disciplinarian. I know how to make slave-girls scream. I promise I will make you scream long before the last time the whip lashes your naked skin."

Sabina was so calm and dispassionate about what she was going to do to me. Somehow that made her scarier than a woman who would whip me out of spite. Sabina was going to be very methodical about hurting me.

"Sabina, can I at least ask how many lashes I'm going to get?" I asked. Knowing how long my punishment was to be wasn't much, but slaves could never hope for anything more than small mercies.

"You were going to be sentenced to eighteen lashes," Sabina informed me, "However I am now going to add two more, since you forgot to call me Mistress."

I whimpered softly at that. Twenty lashes from a horsewhip would be traumatically painful on my naked skin. I was going to have to be careful and not forget to address Sabina properly from now on.

"I cannot show leniency," Sabina said in response to my whimpering, "The fact that we are both females will create no solidarity between us. If I allow you to get away with slips like that, you will never get into the proper mindset, and learn your proper place. But if I am strict with you, and punish you every time you forget, soon there will be no forgetting. It is how we train slaves."

I was afraid of this woman. Naked, and with my wrists helplessly bound to the whipping post, I feared Sabina, and her horsewhip. And yet, it was a delicious sort of fear that incited a soft, wet pulse in my sex. I gritted my teeth and held my breath and waited for the first stinging crack of the whip.

"You have very beautiful buttocks," Sabina said dispassionately, "I will start there."

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. I clenched my mouth tightly shut and struggled not to scream.

"There are nineteen more to go," Sabina calmly informed me, and a heartbeat later the cruel leather landed on my unprotected bare skin again, causing a riot of stinging pain.

"Why are you not screaming yet, blonde girl?" Sabina asked, and then the whip scorched my innocent flesh again, stinging the backs of both of my tender thighs. I twisted and writhed and let out my first scream. There was just too much pain for me to be brave anymore.

There was no escaping the whip, but I writhed and danced shamelessly as Sabina punished my poor, innocent flesh, anyway. It was impossible to stand still while my young, slender body was being so cruelly abused. 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 help me escape Sabina's whip.

And when I kicked or raised my leg in reflexive response to the riotous agony of my cruel punishment, Sabina conspired to take advantage. The cruel leather of her whip cut swiftly into the innocent, pink nether lips between my legs every time my writhing left my vulva exposed.

Sabina had promised to make me scream, but I hadn't expected her to use such cruel and unusual means to wrest screams from my lips! She said that she had been hired to cruelly punish me, but to whip the delicate pink flesh of a girl's sex? Wasn't that taking cruelty a little too far? I resolved to keep my feet on the ground, and my legs together, to protect my poor, abused pubic lips, but the pain inflicted by Sabina's buggy whip was so extreme, I found myself unable to control the responses of my limbs.

From my poor breasts to my tender thighs, it seemed that my entire body was alive with white-hot, throbbing pain. My poor, abused body was covered in sweat, and I wondered how many more lashes I still had to endure. I stopped counting after the fifth one, and after that everything became a painful blur.

And then came the confusing moment where the pain and the pleasure merged together. I danced and writhed under Sabina's cruel whip, but the pain was mixed with desire. My naked body became feverishly hot, and one agonizing wave of desire after another passed through me, heating my sex, hardening my nipples, and causing my vagina to throb over and over again with hungry spasms. It was intense. This type of intensity wasn't possible with ordinary sex or masturbation. I could only experience erotic sensation this intense when forced into a situation of utter submission, helplessness and all-consuming punishment. I was still in a great deal of pain, but now the pain seemed somehow distant and unimportant. The feverish, wanton, libidinousness had surged to extraordinary levels and temporarily overwhelmed the pain, making it irrelevant.

An exquisite, protracted orgasm was building deep inside of me. My loins throbbed with a super-human intensity and the orgasm deep inside of me built in strength. With every painful, stinging lash, with every piercing scream, the orgasm deep inside my loins increased in strength. When I finally achieved climax, the burst of sexual ecstasy was going to be so intense, I felt I might lose consciousness.

For a few seconds, the powerful throbbing in my painfully swollen clit seemed to the only sensation in the universe I was aware of, and then...

* * * * * * * * * *

And then I opened my eyes. The digital clock on the nightstand alleged that the time was currently 2:55 A.M. I was naked, and there was a stainless-steel shackle locked tightly on my ankle, but there was no evidence of a severe whipping on my naked skin.

"Are you alright, darling?" I heard Mrs. Ladd ask, and suddenly I knew where I was. The whipping post, Sabina, the buggy whip, it had all been a dream.

An incredibly intense and erotic dream.

I felt the soft wet pulse of my sex, and wondered if there was any way I could take the intensely erotic scenes from my dream and recreate them in real life. April had shown a great deal of creativity and enthusiasm for making me feel like a helpless, vulnerable, naked slave thus far. Maybe she could do something with this idea for a public whipping and an East European servant being in charge of overseeing me, and punishing me for the slightest violation of the rules.

"I had a dream, Mistress," I explained softly to Mrs. Ladd, "It was really, really intense."