The Countess of Monte Cristo

Continued from: Toilet Humiliation and Anal

I guess I've never mentioned this before, I guess it just hasn't come up before, but my sweet angel Summer is French. Like Paris French, not Montreal French. Yes, before you ask, she has the most adorable little accent too. Not too heavy but enough that I want to bite her juicy little arse because she sounds so cute when she speaks. 

If she wasn't my wife she would definitely be working at my Facility, as my little Fifi French Maid, mincing around the house with her feather duster, calling me Countess and seeing to my EVERY need. Until she is caught lounging around and has to be punished.

She absolutely has several versions of this outfit and we have totally played out some spanking-the-maid and sex with the maid scenes! Summer pulls off this look much better than my sissy males do. 

My sexy and alluring receptionist and stripper Cassandra, on the other hand, is predominately Italian, from her Father's side, with her Mother Bella, of Brazilian lineage. 

This is likely why Cassie is so fiery and gorgeous. I miss the raven black hair she used to rock, but she's pretty enough to pull off the butch-blonde doo. 

Why is any of this meaningful...?

Well...let me tell you what happened today. It was a little Italian / French fusion action, in more ways than one! 

I was messing around in the kitchen, looking for some lunch inspiration, slightly annoyed by the thunderous bass coming from the upper floor. Cassandra and Summer were up there dancing. Cassie was essentially teaching Summer how to move and dance like a stripper. 

Bonus for me I guess? *shrug*

When I went upstairs to ask them what they wanted for lunch, my three-quarters naked wife, working a stripper pole alongside Cassandra, responds with, "can you make us a grilled cheese?" She just can't help being a "little" sometimes. I'm surprised she didn't call me "Mommy". 

I rolled my eyes at her. She knows I'm a classically trained Chef. I'm not saying white bread, processed orange cheese and a side of Ketchup is beneath me, not at all. I just like to exercise my skills when I'm inspired. And I was about to be inspired...

I had left Cassandra and Summer alone, probably longer than I should have, which is always dangerous with these two vixens. Sure enough, I come back upstairs to ask Cassandra if she liked blue cheese, and this is what I find. I find Italian / French fusion playing out before my eyes, as Cassandra was helping herself to the buffet that is my wife's pussy. 

They both knew they were in deep shit as I approached. The two of them snapped up into a submissive kneel and said, "I'm sorry Ma'am," almost in unison. 

"You two...come with me." I snipped. 

I had a devious punishment idea for these two little sluts. 

I marched the pair of them all the way down to the dungeon space and into the cellblock area. Poor Sarah was shocked to see us and probably horribly embarrassed, sitting in her cell in shackles and a chastity belt and nothing else. 

Apparently her session with Russell was still going and she had been in the cell for almost two days. She was only released to be whipped, spanked or fucked. Wild! But this is the type of treatment she asked for. I'll have her blog about this two-day captivity scene later. Apparently she loved every second of it. 

As for Summer and Cassie, who can't seem to keep their faces out of each other's pussies. I had the perfect little apparatus to torture them with. 

Summer's legs would be bound and spread, exposing her presumably wet pussy, while Cassandra would be bound into the pillory, in a position that should force her face directly into my wife's crotch. 

It worked perfectly!

Cassandra's mouth and tongue, even if she strained her neck to its fullest, was still just an inch too far away from Summer's delicious cunt. I even asked her to stick her tongue out and try to reach. Nope! A couple centimeters shy of the prize. Which is exactly the punishment I was going for. 

Cassandra would now be tortured by the sight and smell of Summer's delectable pussy but cannot reach it. Summer, would be tormented by Cassie's warm breath, caressing her slickened folds and throbbing clit.

I left the pair of them in this beautiful, torturous predicament while I returned to the kitchen, now inspired for a little French, Italian fusion. Hehe. Grilled cheese they wanted? I got this!

French and Italian? How about Monte Cristo meets Croc Monsieur? (Both are fancy forms of grilled cheese). Luxurious folds of flavour, both sweet and savoury.

In one of the culinary schools I attended I picked up a little trick. Instead of using beaten eggs and milk for a bread-wash to make French Toast, use eggnog, if it's "in season". It will increase the sweetness and add some earthy, allspice tones. 

To combat this sweetness we now need salty and savoury. Thank you Cassandra, for the Italian inspiration. Dreamy, thinly sliced Mortadella and the oldest of the blue cheese family, Gorgonzola. 

Sandwiched between two French-style toasts, dipped in eggnog then pan-seared to golden perfection. This is a luxurious fuckin' grilled cheese! Omg. 

It's been about an hour since I left the girls in their torturous predicament after telling them they'd both be getting spankings. 

Perhaps I'll release them and see if they want a little lunch first? My mouth is watering, I wonder if Cassie's is too? 

Hehe. Follow me for more great recipe ideas!

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Chastity Belts or a Spanking?

  

 

 

Toilet Humiliation and Anal

Continued from: Sarah and Russ return

A post from slave sarah

As I sat naked, gagged and blindfolded in this tiny, locked cell, I caught myself deliberately pulling against the shackles on my wrists and ankles, just to hear the chains jingle and feel the rigid steel.

There was something very alluring to me, about the strict metal bondage and the added weight the shackles provided. Apart from the robust-sized plug up my ass, these were the only sensory stimuli I could feel, in my solitude and captivity. My pussy was shamefully soaked, as Master's words, threats even, that I would soon be fucked in the ass, echoed in my ears.

I had lost track of time but knew that I hadn't been abandoned for all that long, twenty minutes maybe, before I heard footsteps approach. 

The sound of brass clattering against metal shocked me to a hyper-attentive state, as I listened to the heavy cell door unlock with a key. 

My Master had finally arrived for me! To use me for his pleasure and amusement. My headspace was that of an abducted or purchased sex slave, fearful of a beating if I do not do my very best to offer my holes to him. My mind was exactly where I wanted it to be. I was so dreadfully aroused! 

I was roughly manhandled up and onto the cold seat of the toilet and encouraged to pee. I couldn't believe that I actually did, on command! I visualized being led outside, into the yard on a leash and forced to cock a leg and piss. Why was the thought of this so exciting to me? 

My stomach was in knots of embarrassment, as I listened to my urine echo against the water. While I was peeing, my blindfold and gag were removed, my mouth was saturated in drool and his graciously-sized cock was forced into my mouth.

I felt absolutely degraded, dehumanized and humiliated, to be sucking his cock while seated on a prison toilet full of my own urine, but I started to understood his tactic. Who was I kidding, the humiliation was fanning the flames of my deepening arousal. 

Once I had Master super erect and on the brink of cumming, he stood me up and spun me around. A slap to my ass and a gentle push, had me jack-knifed at the waist with my hands resting on the toilet seat. I was bent at the waist and forced to stare at my own golden nectar in the toilet. Master removed my anal plug which must have left my dirty hole a bit gaped for him, as he slid his cock easily into my ass. 

I wanted so badly to touch my pussy. One little tickle of my throbbing clit would have had me cumming instantly. But Master kept one of my arms pinned behind my back and my other was gripping the toilet seat for dear life. I was occasionally thrust up on my tiptoes, and grunted uncontrollably throughout my ass fucking. 

At one point my arms were both pulled behind my back and upward, which forced my head almost into the toilet. It was close enough that I could smell my own piss, as I was still forced to stare at it also. My wrist shackles were connected to some ceiling chains, forcing me into this pose. I think it's called strappado, a stress pose I have seen on porn sites before. I hated it and loved it at the same time. 

A gag was returned to my mouth, a spreader bar added to expose my most intimate parts, and Master's cock never left my asshole until he blasted cum into my bowels. 

Before his gooey seed had the chance to shameful ooze from my anus, he re-seated the anal plug into my stretched hole, to hold all the mess inside me. 

Again I was left, naked and shackled with a squishy, unpleasant feeling up my ass, all while forced to look into and smell a toilet containing my own pee.   

I fucking hated how degraded I felt in this very moment, and fuckin' loved every second of how degrading this experience was.

What a mindfuck huh? I was so conflicted and trapped in this paradox. I didn't know what to do! I did know one thing though...

If I so-much as heard someone's phone vibrate from another room, I would have cum all over my thighs in that very moment!

slave sarah xoxo 

 

Continued in: The Countess of Monte Cristo

 

Sarah and Russell return

Continued from: And the winner is...

A post from slave sarah

It had been quite some time since that first session with Russell, where he whipped me and used all three of my fuck-holes. Even now, as I sit here and type this between my zoom meetings, the memories of that afternoon have my panties soaked. 

The good news is, we have been texting (sexting) ever since, he is training me and developing me into exactly what he wants. I am to be his whore, his personal slut, one step above an inflatable sex doll, and I absolutely love it!

I have never met a man more thorough than Russell, who I now only address as Master or Sir. His attention to detail always keeps me on my toes, both literally and figuratively. I have structure in my life now, rules to follow and severe consequences for misbehaviour. My nails and toes are always done, baby pink, by Master's request. I also find myself wearing hosiery more often, with high heels, and I now favour dresses and skirts to pants. 

He has me on a strict orgasm diet. I am not to masturbate without his permission and can definitely not cum without his permission. This has been frustrating at times, but I'm more or less walking around in a constant state of arousal 24/7...which is exactly how Master wants me, absolutely begging for it. 

Over the past few months, since our first session together, I have learned positioning, expanded my wardrobe and impressed my Master through my own degrading obedience to him. He was ready to see me again and see to me he certainly did! Mistress Andrea is "making" me blog about it, to humiliate and degrade me even further. 

Here goes...

It was a Tuesday morning. Mistress greeted me when I arrived in my cute dress and pantyhose. Master ordered me to arrive this way, feminine and classy, always in heels. 

I had forgotten just how beautiful Mistress was and how well she commanded over me, without ever needing to say a word. She directed me toward that locker room which, through a large window, is visible to her kitchen. She told me to strip fully naked in the locker room, do my hair into a high-pony, then come find her. I was so embarrassed, yet each time she told me what to do my clit jumped and trembled in anticipation of her next command. 

I did as I was told and underwent the walk of shame from the lobby and into the locker room. The last time I was in this house, in the kitchen to be exact, I remember seeing some dreadfully humiliated man in there, dressed like a little girl and sitting on one of the benches. 

Now it was my turn, to maybe feel what that man had felt, a mixture of shame, anticipation and excitement, to be so exposed and publicly humiliated. I knew Mistress had a wife named Summer, who I have not yet met. As I began to strip naked I was praying she wasn't in the kitchen, watching me. It was bad enough to be naked in front of the stunning Mistress Andrea. 

I tiptoed out of the locker room, having seen Mistress in the kitchen through the glass. The tile was cold against my bare feet and was causing my nipples to harden. I padded my way over to Mistress and told her I was ready. I kept my eyes lowered in her presence, as Master had taught me, and only addressed her as Ma'am. 

She looked me up and down quickly, before inviting me to follow her upstairs. Master wanted me accessorized and kneeling for him and I guess Mistress was tasked to assist. 

With a snap and a point to the floor she had me kneeling. I think she was testing how sharp and well-trained I had become. I got into a kneel for her urgently, remembering to keep my eyes down, back arched and tits thrust out. I noticed first, on the coffee table, a collection of chain, heavy metal shackles and padlocks. My butterflies were raging at this point!

Mistress was gentle and remained quiet, as she drew each of my hands into hers, one by one, to apply the metal cuffs and click a padlock shut. My ankles too and finally a collar, all adorned with these stainless cuffs each of which got their own padlock. 

I liked the heavy weight feel of these shackles. It was making me feel more captive and more like a sex slave. 

The silence was broken when she asked me if Master had any preparations before this session that I had to do at home. My face burned with embarrassment, obviously Mistress knew what I was made to do. 

I responded to her with a little hesitation, not enough to get me struck or punished it would seem. 

"Yes Ma'am, I gave myself a soapy enema Ma'am, released it, then took a second clear-water one, as a rinse out." 

Fuck me! I was so humiliated, which only got worse when she suddenly asked me to present my asshole to her. 

I stood with urgency, sharp like a soldier coming to attention. Master and I had practiced and drilled all of this into me, I knew what was expected. I bent at the waist for Mistress and shamefully spread my ass cheeks open to present her my bare asshole. 

"Very smooth and pretty young lady, such a healthy and pink little pucker." Mistress then said. 

I died a little bit inside, it was so humiliating to hear her speak like this, so matter-of-factly about my butt hole! Sure enough my cunt was soaked, I couldn't help it. I hoped she didn't see. I held my spread position for her as she slathered a healthy amount of lubricant onto my asshole. I clenched from the cold sensation but Mistress told me to relax. She told me that Master wanted me plugged. 

Once was anus was stretched and full, I was snapped back to the floor with a point, once again into a kneel. Mistress told me to wait for Master then she clicked out of the room. I was alone with my thoughts. 

When Master eventually arrived I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. He wasn't holding a whip or his belt, no toys or crops. I didn't know what to expect from this session but my pussy was burning with a deep ache.  

He attached a chain to my collar ring and simply told me to follow him. I was taken down to the basement to an area of the house I had never seen before. Some parts were dark, there was a slight dampness in the air but it was at least warm, even with my nakedness. 

He led me by the chain leash to a far corner of a stone-walled room, where I could see a cell. He produced a large key to unlock the heavy metal door, then told me to get inside. I whimpered in defeat but didn't protest. I tiptoed into this small space obediently.

I think it was like a shitty old linoleum floor. Whatever it was it was cold against my bum and when Master put me into a sit, the anal plug pressed deeper into my asshole. I couldn’t stop myself from groaning like a whore when I felt that plug violate my ass.

My shackles were all connected and locked together and I was put into a heavy duty, strict harness gag with a leather blindfold. The cell door creaked shut and I jumped when the lock ratted into place. 

"When I feel like fucking you in the ass, I'll be back..."

This was the last thing he said to me, before I was left alone in that three by three cell. Unable to see, drooling from my gag and clenching the anal plug with my pucker. 

And what was occupying my mind, in my captive solitude, was the hope that I'd soon be fucked in the ass. I may not look it, from the image above, but I was so freakin' excited!

slave sarah 

xo

Continued in: Toilet Sex