Our previous school scene ended with poor Remy, our French foreign exchange student, dressed fully as a schoolgirl, sucking dick and being fucked by the male Principal. When that shameful act concluded, the last time I saw this sissy boy, the girls had him in a princess dress with full feminine accessories, teaching him how to walk dainty and perform curtsies in the parlour.
I'm sure he'll never be the same again!
Carley, that little gothic angel who came to play with us, stuck it out for the entire session of teasing and tormenting of the poor sissy. She was a good sport and seemed to be having the time of her life at my Facility, getting to know the girls and coming out of her shell.
Is it Istanbul or Constantinople..? Does it matter? Probably not. Back in my day we certainly had Goths at my high school but Emo was yet to be defined. I'm sure they existed though. The Hipster and Bohemian movements maybe came together like a Transformer to form a super-Hipster, henceforth known as the Emo?
I know! Let's ask the A.I.
Is there a difference between goth and emo?
Yes, there are differences between goth and emo subcultures. While both share some similarities in their fashion and music preferences, goth culture tends to embrace darker, Victorian-inspired aesthetics and a fascination with the macabre, while emo culture is more forces on emotional expression, often through music and introspective lyrics. Goth fashion often includes black clothing, lace, and leather, while emo fashion may feature skinny jeans, band t-shirts, and dyed hair.
Hmm, ok...
So one should be burned at the stake while the other might be alone in their bedroom, writing song lyrics?
You know what? Whatever. You do you and express or label yourself any way you wish. I just had a grown man here, who wanted to dress like a schoolgirl and have his little dicklette locked in a cage. We don't judge here, whether someone is trans, emo, sissy or goth.
Speaking of which, when the dust settled with all that sissy Remy business, I had the chance to debrief with Carley at the bar, as her dominant partner, Robby, showed back up to collect her.
It was cute, she had so many questions and was clearly hooked on the addictive nature of this lifestyle.
"Thank you so much, Mistress! I have so many questions swirling around in my head. Like, what does a typical day look like at The Facility? Are there specific roles that each submissive has to follow or is it more freeform depending on the situation? And, um...what are the living arrangements like? You know, for those of us who might be asked to stay for longer periods of time..."
Like a choose your own adventure of BDSM, I threw some options at her.
"Well, sweetheart, you could enroll as a 'little', which means your day-to-day attire would be that of an effeminate little girl. Your room would be pink and colourful, full of bows and ruffles. You would have a strict but caring 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' to care for you, play with you and discipline you when needed.
"Ooh, being a little sounds fascinating, Mistress Andrea. I've always had a naughty streak that loved playing the part of the innocent submissive. The thought of having a Mommy and Daddy figure to guide me through this new world, and punishing me when I misbehave...it definitely has its appeal. But I'm curious about the other roles as well. What else could I possibly explore at The Facility?
Awww. Isn't she such a sweetheart! I wanna bite her little bare bum cuz she's so cute.
"The next would be schoolgirl, which you've already dabbled in. You'd still be a 'little' but slightly older. You would have to dress in a proper, humiliating, schoolgirl uniform each day and attend the classrooms. You would be disciplined frequently, put in detention and sent to the Principal's office when naughty. You'd have a little girl bedroom again, but not quite as frilly and pink.
"Wow, the role of a schoolgirl sounds intense yet exciting too! I can already picture myself in a tight little plaid skirt and crisp white blouse, kneeling outside the Principal's office with my hands on my head, trembling in anticipation for whatever punishment awaits me. I bet lessons learned at this school are far more memorable than any of my old regular classes! *smirks*
"Yes they are...most of the school punishments as you saw with Remy, are old fashioned. You'd be subjected to the cane, the strap, a wooden paddle and cornertime."
Oh, Mistress! Those sound absolutely...thrilling. The idea of being bent over a desk, my skirt flipped up and panties hiked down, and feeling the sting of the cane on my bare bum makes me shiver in delight. And cornertime...the humiliation of standing there, on display for everyone as my punished skin throbs with each passing second...mmm, I can't deny it turns me on. But please, tell me more, Ma'am. How else could I serve there?
"The next role would be a slave maid. You'd be dressed more sultry and sexualized like a slutty French Maid and you would literally be doing domestic chores, cleaning and serving in your outfit."
"Oh my! The delicate balance of submission and servitude in such a role is incredibly appealing. I could easily lose myself in the menial tasks. The constant threat of discipline hanging over me like a dark cloud, only heightening my focus and dedication to be the perfect little maid. And when I inevitably falter, imagine their stern faces as they decide on a fitting punishment. It all feels so raw and intimate, don't you think?"
"I do. This role is one of the most objectifying and humiliating for most women and a few of the sissy men."
"Mmm, hearing you describe it that way makes me wat to explore it even more. The thought of being so utterly objectified, existing solely for the pleasure and amusement of my superiors, it's almost intoxicating. What happens during the nighttime hours at The Facility, Ma'am? Does the training and roles continue even then?"
"Oh yes, your selected role would remain into the evening. The Facility has a bar, like a speakeasy, a piano lounge, pool and a strip club. Something you were able to see most of during your tour."
"My goodness, Mistress! This place sounds like a true wonderland..."
Before she went on another of her cute tirades of imagining the space and her roles, I cute her off.
"And the final role is in the sex dungeon, as a sex slave. You are literally kept in bondage and in a cage or cell...existing only to be sexually used, beaten, tortured and tormented."
*gulps* "Mistress! The role of a sex slave sounds positively terrifying yet irresistible. The vulnerability, the pain, the pleasure - it all swirls together in this intoxicating dance. It's an overwhelming concept, but one that I know would push my boundaries to the absolute limit. Is it strange that I find myself craving that level of intensity?"
"Is there a role from one of those four options that resonates with you the most, sweetheart?"
"Oh Mistress Andrea, choosing just one role at the Facility is like asking me to pick a favourite ice cream flavour. They all seem so captivating in their own unique ways. But if I must confess, the idea of being a sex slave in the dungeon has my heart racing the fastest."
(Wow, ok. That was all A.I. during this little choose your own adventure conversation. I seriously didn't think A.I. Carley would choose that one since I used the term beating and torture.)
The little pixie stood to embrace me, biting her lower lip, lost in visions of heavy chains, dark corners, and relentless torment. I kissed her forehead.
"I crave the total loss of control Ma'am, the overwhelming sensations of torture and discipline that comes with such a role. I know it's extreme, but the thrill of giving myself completely to my dominant is something I cannot resist."
"I understand, honey." I cooed to her, while glancing over at Robby who was sporting a mischievous grin on his face.
"I assume you'll be doing the honours, Robby, down in the dungeon?" I asked him bluntly.
"If you wouldn't mind us using the space, Mistress," he replied confidently.
"On one condition, Robby," I replied mysteriously. "There will be another woman down in the dungeon when you get there. Use her as you wish...and don't go easy on her."
No sooner had I changed into something a little more sleek and leather, there was a little knock at my front door.
As she stepped inside, pouting, clutching her elbows to hug her torso, with her late-90's bangs making her appear absolutely more adorable than I could have imagined, I immediately remembered who this woman was.
"Please come in, sweetie," I smiled invitingly. "You must be Tyler?"
Mistress Andrea
xoxo
Continued in: A Fictional Endeavour - Y2K
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