Oily Hufone Heit

Continued from: 50 Lashes

A Sarah Jane story

Reminder: In my writing I'll refer to Russell as "Daddy", because I'm so used to it and it would feel weird referring to him as Russell. But in the dungeon setting with Mandy, we both addressed him as "Sir". 

As I stirred awake in the little cot, I became aware of the warm weight in my arms, the soft press of Mandy's naked body against mine. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I found myself gazing down at her peaceful face, her dark lashes fanning against her cheeks. Tendrils of her rich brown hair tickled my nose, carrying with them the faint scent of vanilla and flowers. 

Unable to resist, I pulled her closer into a little spoon, my fingers gently teasing her pert nipples. Mandy stirred, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she woke to my ministrations. Despite our predicament - locked away in a cell, our pussies sealed off by unforgiving stainless steel - there was a lightness to our mood, a sense of camaraderie born from our shared whipping, the red welts of which had long since faded away.

The stark reality of our situation hit home as nature's call became impossible to ignore. With a resigned sigh, I extricated myself from Mandy's embrace and padded over to the lone white toilet, its presence a mocking reminder of our loss of dignity. 

I could feel Mandy's eyes on me, her gaze a mixture of sympathy and shared humiliation. When it was Mandy's turn, I averted my eyes, giving her what little privacy I could. 

Eventually, I watched as Daddy unlocked the cell to lead Mandy away. Through the bars of the cell, I had a clear view of the shower stall, the clear glass doing little to obscure the figure within. Daddy loomed nearby, his presence a constant reminder of her lack of autonomy, ensuring she did not attempt to masturbate. 

Her humiliation rose to new heights, as he opened the shower door to hand her a razor and order her to shave her pussy bald. She ran the blades over her mound ever so gently, revealing more of her smooth, pink flesh. 

Now it was my turn to face the humiliation of the supervised shower ritual. As I stepped into the stall, the cool tile beneath my feet was a shock to the system, I couldn't help but steal a glance at Mandy. She knelt nearby, her wrists in a bondage yoke to prevent any chance of touching herself. Daddy's presence loomed large as I began to lather my body. 

As I finished shaving my own cunt bald, Daddy's voice cut through the stream of water. "Finger some soap up your asshole," he ordered, his tone serious. "Make sure you're clean back there, inside and out." With a deep breath, I complied, my fingers probing the inside of my anus to ensure I was squeaky clean. 

Dried and now completely naked and still horny, one of the dark rooms loomed before Mandy and me, a foreboding space filled with the promise of twisted delights. 

As we entered, my eyes immediately fell upon the familiar sight of my pouting stool from my "little girl" bedroom upstairs. 

Its innocent appearance was marred by the realistic dildo that was permanently affixed to this stool. It brought back memories of the countless times I would have to gingerly lower myself onto this, after a trip over Daddy's knee and face the corner for what feels like forever. 

Daddy guided me towards the stool, his grip firm and unyielding as he positioned me above the heavily lubricated intruder. With my eyes downcast, I lowered myself onto the dildo, gasping as in breached the tight ring of my asshole and filled me completely. As I settled into place, Daddy began to tie my wrists and ankles, heightening my helplessness. Next came the ball gag, the rubber filling my mouth and rendering me mute. Finally, he attached electro-pads to my nipples. Beside me and kneeling in an open position, Mandy was trembling with fear and excitement, occasionally glancing up at the menacing fucking machine that lay in front of her. 

The gag in my mouth made it impossible to swallow, and strings of drool were trailing down my chin, dripping onto my heaving tummy and tits. The nipple pads were gently shocking me, causing my body to spasm and my asshole to clench and grip the dildo. It was a horrible, beautiful torture that Daddy designed. 

All the while, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Mandy, who was strapped to the fucking machine, her legs splayed wide as the mechanical arm worked slowly, in and out of her pussy. I watched transfixed, as her body convulsed with the force of her first orgasm, her juices coating the fake cock as it continued its relentless assault.

After what sounded like several mind-shattering orgasms through her bit gag, Mandy was finally released from the fucking machine. Her body was limp and slick with sweat, her pussy swollen and dripping with the evidence of her pleasure. She was provided a pair of black, lace-top stockings to add a hint of elegance to her look, to create a stark contrast to what was coming next. 

As Daddy removed the dildo from the machine, still glistening with her juices, it bobbed obscenely in front of her face. Mandy hesitated for only a moment before leaning forward, her lips parting to take the silicone shaft into her mouth. The humiliation of the act was almost too much to bear, as she sucked and licked the fake cock, cleaning it of her own arousal. 

As Mandy worked away on thoroughly degrading herself for Daddy's amusement, Daddy approached me with his phone in his hand and a smirk on his face. 

He turned off the electro-pads and showed me the face of his phone, giving me a little wink. It was an image from Mistress Andrea. It was the GIRLS! 

They made it to London!!

...and by the looks of things, the girls are about to christen the hotel room by taking a round of a Summer!

With this giant ball gag in my mouth I didn't think my jaw could stretch any wider, but it did. My jaw fucking dropped when I read the text below.

 

Holy fuckin' shit!! Mandy looked up from her dildo sucking, startled at my muffled reaction. 

With a ball gag in your mouth "holy fuckin' shit" sounds like: "oily hufone heit" 

(lol, try it. I literally put a ball gag in my mouth when writing this to see what it would sound like)

Omg I so happy for her! I'd celebrate but I'm currently tied to a stool with a dildo up my ass and a lot more playtime ahead with Mandy. Wish us luck!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Tiptoes and Tears

 

50 Lashes

Continued from: Dinner and a Dungeon

A Sarah Jane story

Again and again, the flogger fell, each strike carefully placed across my bare bum and back, pushing me further into that hazy space between pain and pleasure. I lost count after twenty, my mind reeling as the sensation was overwhelming me. By the fiftieth stroke, I was dancing on my toes, desperate to escape the relentless whipping, yet craving more. 

As Daddy released me from my chains, my legs buckled beneath me, my body still humming with the warm glow of the flogger. With surprising gentleness, he untied Mandy and I took her place in the corner of the room. I felt the rough fibers of rope as he bound wrists, forcing me into a position facing the wall, embarrassingly aware of my redness on full display. 

I couldn't help but envision the scene unfolding behind me. In my mind's eye, I saw him stringing her up in the same manner he had me, her elegant dress pooling at her feet as the shears sliced away her clothing. I envisioned him gently unbuckling the straps of her high heels, now being forced to stand on her toes for the duration of the whipping with the sudden removal of the four inch stilettos. 

Before long, the rhythmic sound of the flogger striking Mandy's bare flesh filled the room, each impact punctuated by a yelp from her lips. I pressed my forehead against the wall and counted in my mind, all fifty of the lashes she received. 

After the whipping had ended, I suddenly felt the weight of a chastity belt settle around my hips. The cool metal against my heated skin was a shock, a stark contrast to the warmth that still radiated from my freshly whipped bottom. Behind me, I heard Mandy's sharp intake of breath, followed by the clicking of padlocks. "What is this thing?" she asked, her voice sounding desperate. 

I was released by Daddy and turned to face her, taking in the sight of the stainless steel that was now encasing her pussy. The belt hugged her curves perfectly and was snug enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to get so much as a pinky finger in there. 

"But why?" Mandy pleaded out, her gaze scanning over my equally denied state. 

"Because," Daddy purred, stepping closer to her and running his fingers over the metal screening that housed her pussy, "it's bedtime..." 

As the heavy cell door clanged shut behind us, I took in our new surroundings with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The small space was dominated by the single bed, its thin mattress offering little comfort for the night ahead. Beside it, the stark white toilet stood out, a harsh reminder of our captivity. 

Mandy sat on the bed and pulled at her chastity belt out of sexual frustration, as the reality of our situation sank in. 

"You're wasting your time, Mandy, trust me," as I reached out my hand, offering what little comfort I could. "We'll get through this together," I whispered. 

We settled into the bed, our bodies spooning for warmth and assurance and I held her hand and kissed her neck. I was probably making things worse for her arousal level, as she began to grind her whipped ass into my midsection, trying to hump the stainless belt against her pussy. It was no use...

With gentle hands, I guided Mandy onto her tummy, her soft sighs filling the small cell as she settled onto the thin mattress. Leaning down, I began to plant little feather-light kisses on her back and bum, soothing the welted streaks of red. 

Her body relaxed under my touch, her breathing evening out as I worked away across her bare bum cheeks. As I felt her drift towards sleep, I shifted, pulling her into my arms. Our lips met in a soft, passionate kiss, a dance of tongues and shared breath. 

The chastity belts prevented us from exploring further, but there was a certain eroticism in the restraint, in the knowledge that our pleasure was entirely in Daddy's hands. As we finally broke apart, I pulled the blankets over our entwined forms, holding Mandy close as she slipped into slumber. Even as exhaustion tugged at my own consciousness, my mind was alive with possibilities of what tomorrow might bring, in the dark rooms. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Oily Hufone Heit

Dinner and a Dungeon

Continued from: Soccer Mom

A Sarah Jane story

As we settled into our seats at the elegant dinner table, I made sure to position myself extra close to Mandy, our knees nearly touching beneath the crisp white tablecloth. The soft glow of the candles cast a warm light across her face, highlighting her delicate features and the nervous excitement dancing in her eyes. 

Leaning in close, I whispered conspiratorially, "Can you believe we're really going to be in a sex dungeon later tonight?" Mandy giggled, a sound that was both innocent and incredibly arousing. "I never imagined I'd find myself in a situation like this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

I replied that I don't usually get to play like this or even wear "big-girl" clothes and I could see the look of confusion cross Mandy's face. 

As we enjoyed our fancy mean, her curiosity about my relationship with Russell became evident. Leaning in closer I began to explain the intricate dynamics that governed my daily life. "You see," I said, my voice low and intimate, "Russell is my "Daddy" Dom, 24/7. When we're in this mode, I address him as "Daddy" and submit to his every whim. 

Mandy's eyes widened with interest, and I could see the gears turning in her mind as she tried to process the new information. I continued, "As part of our dynamic, Daddy requires me to dress like a little girl - frilly dresses, pigtails, knee socks, the works. It's utterly humiliating for someone my age, but also strangely liberating."

A soft giggle escaped Mandy's lips, and I smiled, knowing she was picturing me in such a state. "And when I misbehave," I added, with a deliberate pout to my lip, "Daddy spanks me and I have to stand in the corner." 

Mandy's expression shifted from amusement to fascination as she absorbed the details of our unconventional lifestyle. 

"But," I said, my tone becoming more serious, "when we engage in heavier BDSM play, like in the dungeon where you and I are headed, the dynamic shifts. I call him 'Sir' and we explore darker, more intense scenes." 

I could tell she was eager to learn more. As a novice in the world of kink play, her innocence was both endearing and exciting. As Daddy was paying for the bill, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught both Mandy and me off guard. His voice cut through our girlish chatter, deep and commanding, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my pussy. 

"When we get back to the Facility, I want both of you in the basement," he declared, his gaze locking onto ours with intensity. "Both of you will be receiving a thorough whipping. Consider it a warm up to this multi-day session." 

Mandy's sharp intake of breath mirrored my own, and I reached out to squeeze her hand, offering support and reassurance. The thought of being whipped alongside this beautiful, vulnerable woman filled me with such arousal I could have cummed right on the spot. I could already see the scene unfolding - two naked forms, side by side and strung up by the wrists. 

When we arrived back to Mistress Andrea's, Mandy and I obediently descended the stairs into the dimly lit basement, my heart was racing and I continued to hold Mandy's hand. The cool air brushed against my skin, raising goosebumps and making my nipples erect, as we approached two stools positioned outside of the main door to the dungeon. 

The silence between us was heavy with unspoken desires and fears, as we took a seat on the two stools. Minutes felt like hours as we waited, our minds racing with thoughts of what was to come, until Mandy broke the silence. 

Her question hung in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she asked, "Is Sir going to force us to have sex with each other?" I met her gaze, seeing a mixture of fear and curiosity in her eyes. With a gentle smile, I replied, "Yes, Mandy. That's exactly what's going to happen." 

"He's going to whip us and torture us until we agree to do very dirty and degrading things with each other." I watched Mandy's reaction closely, savouring the way her pupils dilated at my words. 

"And when we finally break, when we give in to his demands, that's when he's gonna make us...umm, do things with each other." I finally remarked, watching Mandy's squeeze her thighs together in an attempt to fight off the arousal from what I just said. 

Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed above, growing louder as Daddy made his way down to join us. When he emerged from the shadows, my heart was beating out of my chest. Still clad in his impeccable suit, he carried and armful of bondage ropes and and a pair of gleaming tailor's shears. As Daddy approached, I could practically feel the energy crackling between the three of us, a potent mix of dominance, submission, and the promise of exquisite tortures.

As Daddy led us into one of the "dark rooms", the click of our heels echoed through the chamber. Mandy's breathing quickened as she took in the array of implements hanging from the walls - whips, crops, floggers and devices intended to keep us quiet and vulnerable.

With a firm hand, Daddy plopped Mandy on her butt, on the dirty floor, securing her wrists above her head. He then pulled me toward the center of the room, where a set of chains and shackles dangled from the ceiling.

With practiced ease, he secured my wrists in the leather cuffs, hoisting me up until I was balanced precariously on my tiptoes. The position left me vulnerable, exposed, and utterly at his mercy. 

I watched, my heart pounding, as Daddy retrieved the tailor's shears. The blades glinted menacingly in the dim light as he approached me. With agonizing slowness, he began to cut away my dress and panties, the shears slicing through the expensive fabric as if it were nothing. 

Now bare naked but still in my heels, Daddy stepped back to survey his handiwork, I could feel the humiliating weight of Mandy's gaze upon me, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and fascination. With deliberate slowness, Daddy moved to the wall rack, his fingers trailing over the various whips that hung there. 

After a moment's consideration, he selected a particularly wicked-looking flogger, the leather tendrils promising both sting and thud. Positioning himself behind me, he trailed the tails over my exposed skin, a teasing caress that made my nipples harden instantly. 

And then, without warning, the first lash landed, searing a line of fire across my bare ass. Only 49 more to go!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: 50 Lashes

Soccer Mom

Continued from: Her Dark Rooms

A Sarah Jane story 

A few hours later, Mandy arrived at Mistress Andrea's Facility. No doubt her heart was pounding with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety; a feeling I know all-too well. She sat alone in the lobby, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she tried to calm her nerves.

To the casual observer, she looked like any other suburban soccer mom - her sassy pink yoga pants and oversized hoodie, doing little to hint at he dark desires that consumed her thoughts. 

When Daddy and I had the chance to study her file before she showed up, it came as no surprise to me why she would be now waiting in a BDSM facility, wishing to be spanked, brutalized, degraded and humiliated. The lone, distant, glossed-over eyes, suggested to me that she craved the escape that only BDSM can provide. 

She's an ER nurse, first of all. And by the looks of this shot, it's been a heavy shift. 

Then off to soccer practice with the kids maybe, stopping by the grocery store for tonight's dinner. 

On the weekend, she's runs the local bake sale at her church. 

If the church only knew what she was into, my word! *giggle. The cauldrons of holy water would be boiling. (I read about what she was into, in her file...*blush! And I thought I was into some dark stuff). 

Next...Maybe take the mini van for a detailing, because it's covered in crushed goldfish crackers and sticky fingerprints.

Fit in a few self-medicating drinks on the neighbour's back porch and hit the weed pen on Saturday night. 

Wake-up the next morning and take the other minivan to Costco. 

Find a place in the afternoon that does Caesar Sundays and mix in a few of those with some girlfriends. Or maybe a mimosa Sunday morning, by the looks of that image. 

Then go back to work...

Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat...

Now that you know as much about Mandy as I know. Does it come as a surprise to you that she's into the heavier side of BDSM?! Hell no! 

The monotony of her daily life, the responsibilities of being a nurse and a mother, had left her craving something more - something intense and all-consuming. Now, as she prepares to begin her multi-day session at The Facility, she feels a strange sense of peace wash over her. Soon she would be stripped bare, both physically and emotionally, ready to embrace the role of the willing victim in the dungeon below. 

She continued to sit nervously in the lobby, lost in her own thoughts, Daddy (Russell) emerged from a doorway. He cut a striking figure in his tailored suit, exuding and air of confidence and authority that seemed to fill the room. 

Approaching Mandy, he extended his hand and introduced himself. "Hello, Miss Reid. I'm Russell, I'll be filling in for Mistress Andrea for the next few days, I believe she texted you this?" Mandy's eyes remained fixed on the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she responded, "yes, Sir."  

He wasted no time in beginning the scene. "Stand up and strip," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. Mandy hesitated for a moment, her hands trembling as she reached for the hem of her hoodie. Slowly, she pulled it over her head, revealing a simple white bra underneath. Next came her yoga pants, sliding down her legs to pool at her feet. 

As she stood there in her underwear and socks, her instinct was to cover herself, her arm crossing protectively over her tits and her hand cupping her mound. Russell stepped closer, giving her lower, right butt-cheek a sharp smack, causing her to yelp in surprise. 

"I said strip...that means everything off, now!" he growled, his eyes narrowing to take in her partially clothed form.

Mandy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she fumbled with the clasp of her bra, her fingers shaking as she struggled to comply. Finally, the garment fell away, revealing her ample tits and pert nipples. With a deep breath she stepped out of her socks and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her lace panties.

She stood before him, completely exposed, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. Russell held out his hand, silently demanding that she surrender her panties to him. Mandy placed the delicate lace in his palm, her eyes downcast as she awaited his next command. 

He opened the cute underwear to inspect the inside, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as he examined the damp patch on the gusset. "Tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. 

"Look at this mess. You're already soaking wet, Miss Reid. Is that what turns you on? Being stripped naked and humiliated in front of a total stranger?" 

Mandy's face burned with shame, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded mutely. This was exactly the kind of degrading treatment she craved, the delicious humiliation that set her nerve endings ablaze. Russell tossed the soiled panties aside, his attention now fully focused on Mandy's trembling form. 

"On your knees," he barked, pointing to spot on the floor in front of him. 

As if on queue, the click of my high heels echoed through the lobby as I closed the distance on the kneeling woman and approached her from behind. 

I was wearing a sleek, black cocktail dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, accentuated by a pair of scandalously high strappy heels. Daddy's eyes widened appreciatively as he took in my "grown-up" appearance and winked at me. He doesn't often see me dressed like a "big girl."

"Change of plans," he announced, his gaze flicking between Mandy and I. "The three of us are going to dinner. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other and I booked reservations at the swankiest place in town."

Mandy, still kneeling naked on the floor, kept her head bowed as she murmured, "Yes, Sir. But...Sir, I don't have anything nice to wear..." 

Bless her heart! What a little cutie-pie! 

I helped her to her feet, pulling her in for a warm embrace and greeting her for the first time. Mandy melted into my touch, her body trembling as she accepted the comfort I offered. I pressed a soft little kiss to her lips, a silent promise of the pleasures to come. "Come with me, sweetheart," I chirped, as I led her to a bedroom where everything had been pre-arranged and pre-planned by Daddy, for this exact moment. 

After what felt like an eternity, Mandy emerged from the room, a vision of elegance and sensuality. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of her, a similar black cocktail dress to mine. My eyes were drawn to a tantalizing glimpse of thigh, revealed by the dress's daring slit. Her legs, elongated by the strappy heels, seemed to go on forever, and I found myself imaging them wrapped around my shoulders, as I explore every inch of her newly shaved pussy. 

The way she fidgeted with her fingers, her gaze darting nervously between Daddy and me, spoke volumes about her lack of self-awareness. It was clear that this beautiful, sexy woman had no idea how captivating she truly was. Mandy's innocence and naivety were part of what made her so incredibly alluring. 

The thought of being a slave "sister" alongside this woman and under Daddy's control, sent a shiver down my spine. Together, Daddy and I would show her the depths of her own beauty and unlock her true potential!

I can't friggen wait for "big girl" playtime!! Eeeee!

Sarah Jane 💟 

Continued in: Dinner and a Dungeon