The Three D's of a FLR

Continued from: The Struggle is Real

A Sarah Jane story 

As the timer chimed, signaling the end of Russell's cornertime, I set my book aside and rose from the couch. Approaching him slowly, I savoured the sight of his naked form, still trembling slightly from the wooden spoon. 

"Come here, young man," I commanded, my voice low and sultry. Obediently, Russell turned from the corner and dropped to his hands and knees, crawling towards me with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation in his eyes. As he reached my feet, I extended one leg, presenting my high-heeled shoe for his adoration. "Kiss them," I ordered, watching with satisfaction as he pressed his lips onto the shiny leather. 

"Now, remove them," I instructed, as I sat down. 

Russell slid the shoe from my foot, revealing the delicate silk of my stocking. He repeated the process with my other foot, gently placing my discarded high heels to the side.

"Worship them," I breathed, lifting the pad of my foot and resting it on Russell's nose. He needed no further encouragement. He buried his face in my feet, lavishing them with kisses and gentle licks. I could feel his tongue tracing the contours of my arches, his lips suckling at my toes through the thin fabric of my hosiery. 

As he worked his way up to my ankles, I leaned back against the couch, allowing the sensations to wash over me. The sight of him, so utterly devoted to pleasing my feet, sent waves of pleasure cascading through my pussy. I slipped a hand beneath the hem of my dress, finding the damp heat between my thighs. As Russell continued to worship my feet, I began to stroke my bare clit, my fingers moving in rhythm with his tongue on my toes. 

The contrast between his locked-up, denied state and my own building ecstasy was intoxicating, fueling my arousal right to the edge. With a final shuddering cry and my toes in his mouth, I climaxed, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. 

I gently withdrew my feet from Russell's grasp, returning my high heels to my feet. Looking down at him, still kneeling at my feet, I smiled indulgently. "What a good boy you are," I praised, running my fingers through his hair. "Now, be a dear and go make us dinner please."

The evening had progressed much like any other, with a delicious meal prepared by Russell and the only difference was, he was sitting a little more gingerly than usual. As the night wore on and after some wine, I found myself growing increasingly aroused in my new role. 

Rising from the dining table, I sauntered over to where he sat, my hips swaying seductively with each step. With a single, fluid motion, I shed my pinup dress, revealing the vintage lingerie that clung to my curves like a second skin. "I want to fuck," I bluntly declared. 

Russell's eyes widened with appreciation, his gaze roaming hungrily over my body. Taking his hand in mine, I led him up to our bedroom, smacking the seat of his pants to move him along. Once inside, I guided him to the bed, pushing him dominantly onto the plush comforter. His eyes were alight with hope, no doubt anticipating the moment when I would unlock his penis and allow him the release he so desperately craves. Little did he know, I had other plans in store. 

Turning to our toy drawer, I retrieved the strap-on harness, complete with an ultra-realistic dildo. With aggressive motions, I secured the harness around Russell's hips, positioning the fake cock directly above his own imprisoned penis. The contrast between the two was striking - one lifeless and limp, the other proudly erect, ready to serve my every desire. 

As I finished tightening the straps, I caught the look of emasculation in Russell's eyes, the realization that from now on, all things revolve around my pleasure alone. Smiling wickedly, I pushed him back onto the bed, swiftly securing his wrists to the headboard with bondage cuffs that are always at the ready for such occasions. 

Now that he was completely at my mercy, I turned my attention to the magnificent cock, jutting triumphantly from his hips. Wrapping my little fingers around the shaft, I began to stroke it slowly, marveling at the way it bobbed and flopped about. As I worked the dildo with my hands, I leaned in close to Russell's ear, my breath hot against his skin. 

"Look at you, young man," I murmured, "so helpless, so utterly under my control. Your cock may be locked away, but this one...this one is mine to command! And tonight, it's going to fuck me until I scream." With those words hanging in the air, I climbed up to straddle him, positioning myself over the waiting dildo. As I lowered myself onto it, inch by glorious inch, I watched Russell's face contort with a mixture of envy and humiliation, knowing that he longed to be the one filling me so completely. 

As I began to ride him, my hips gyrating with each thrust, I knew this was exactly where I belonged - me taking pleasure as I saw fit, and him, denied and eagerly obedient. 

Reaching into our toy drawer once more, I retrieved a bright red ball gag, holding it up for him to see. "Open wide, my pet," I purred, watching as he reluctantly parted his lips to accept the silicone sphere. I fastened the straps behind his head before letting my fingers trail down his chest to grip both of his nipples. I bounced a few more times on the dildo before climbing off, ensuring it would be glistening with my slick arousal. 

Slowly, deliberately, I wrapped my lips around the head of the fake cock, swirling my tongue at the tip before taking it deeper into my mouth. As I bobbed my head up and down, I could feel Russell's body tensing beneath me, his wrists straining against the bonds that held him in place. 

When I finally released the dildo from my mouth and cleaned it of my own juices, it was slick with saliva, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom. Climbing on top once more, I lowered myself onto it in reverse, breathing a sigh of pure bliss. I leaned forward so Russell's would have a good view of my asshole, and began to ride him again. I reached for the wand that lay waiting on the nightstand and brought it buzzing to life over my throbbing clit. 

My moans grew louder, more urgent, as I chased my release and bounced upon the impressive dildo. And when my orgasm finally crashed over me, I threw my head back and screamed, my inner walls clenching around the artificial cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. As the last tremors subsided, I collapsed forward, feeling my asshole clench and release with the dildo still buried deep inside me. Then, with a satisfied sigh, I raised myself up off the cock and turned to face Russell's gaze with a smile. "Good boy," I praised, reaching behind his head to release the ball gag. "Maybe next time, if you're very lucky, I'll let you clean up this massive, veiny cock for me." 

With that promise hanging in the air, I flicked the tip of the dildo still attached to his hips, and it bobbed obscenely in the air as I left him tied to the bed. As I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up, he was whimpering like a little girl. 

As I emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and ready for bed, I couldn't help but notice the pitiful whimpers emanating from the bedroom. Stepping back into the room, I glared at Russell, still tied to the bed, his body writhing in frustration. The sight of him, so utterly helpless with the dildo still protruding from his waist, made me feel even more goddess-like. 

Approaching the bed, I looked down at him, my brow furrowed in disapproval of his whining. "What's all this about, young man?" I asked, my voice dripping with condescension. "Are you upset because Mommy didn't let you play with your little pee-pee tonight?" Russell tried to respond, but his cheeks were flushing with embarrassment at being spoken to like a child. 

Sighing dramatically, I untied his restraints. "Sit up," I commanded, watching as he struggled to comply, his arms stiff from being immobilized for so long. Once he was upright I placed a hand on his shoulder, my grip firm yet gentle. "Listen to yourself," I scolded, "whining like a little girl because things didn't go your way. Would you like me to start treating you like a little girl for our bedtime activities, because that can be arranged?" 

Russell hung his head in shame. "No, Ma'am," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

I nodded, satisfied with his contrition. "Good boy," I praised, while attaching a leather collar and connecting leash around his neck. "Now, come here and make it up to me. You know what I want." 

Obediently, Russell shifted to the floor, moving to kneel behind me as I bent over the edge of the bed. I felt his hands gently part my bum cheeks, his warm breath ghosting over my delightful little pucker. And then, with a deliberate flick of his tongue, he placed a lovely French kiss onto my asshole. As his tongue worked away, I closed my eyes, savouring the sensation of his submission.  

With his tongue up my bum, I used my eager fingers to treat myself to yet another orgasm. I am really digging this new role reversal. 

Mistress Andrea once taught me the three D's of a successful female-led-relationship, and "dick" is not one of them, lol. Discipline, Denial, Dominance....check!

Life is good!  

Sarah Jane 💟  

The Struggle is Real

Continued from: A Minor Annoyance

A Sarah Jane story: 

With Russell standing obediently in the timeout corner by the very visible front door, I made my way to the center of the living room, my hips swaying provocatively with each step. I lowered myself gracefully onto the spanking chair, the smooth fabric of my pinup dress rustling softly as I settled into position. 

Crossing my legs, I savoured the sensation of my nude stockings against my skin, a reminder of my feminine power. "Come here, young man," I purred, crooking a finger in Russell's direction. He approached tentatively, his eyes downcast, until he stood directly beside me. Reaching out, I cupped his locked-up penis, raising an eyebrow in cruel delight. 

With a gentle pat on my lap, I invited him to assume the most classic and vulnerable of positions. "Over my knee, sweetheart," I cooed, my voice dripping with honeyed venom. "It's time for your spanking." As Russell obediently draped himself over my stocking tops, I took a moment to admire the view - his bare bum presented perfectly for my maternal correction. 

Raising my hand, I brought it down firmly on his left cheek, alternating to his right then back again, relishing the satisfying smack that echoed through the room. Again and again, I kept up a steady rhythm upon his upturned bum, alternating cheeks and varying the intensity. 

"Do you know why you're being spanked, young man?" I asked, tracing a fingernail lightly over his heated flesh. Russell's response was muffled by the placement of his head down by my high heels, but I could make out a whimpered, "yes, Ma'am." 

"That's right," I purred, resuming my spanking with renewed vigor. "You left the coffee maker in a state of disarray, forcing me to clean up after you. That simply won't do in our household, will it?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp smack, emphasizing my point. 

"In this relationship, you are to serve me, to anticipate my needs and ensure my comfort and pleasure at all times. Leaving me to clean up after you is unacceptable behaviour, and it will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" 

Russell's affirmative whimper was music to my ears, as I reached for the wooden spoon that lay waiting on the small table beside me. I brought it down in measured strokes, firmly peppering all quadrants of his bum and thighs, each impact leaving a fiery sting to his sensitive bum. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I could see the odd distinct marks of the wooden spoon. This wasn't a severe punishment, but enough to leave him both physically and psychologically fearful of my handy kitchen implement.

"There, there, my sweetie," I nurtured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "All done now. You will be forgiven very shortly." Guiding him back to the corner, I positioned him once more with his nose to the walls and his hands behind his head. The sight of my former dominant and "Daddy", his well-punished bottom on full display, sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me. 

"Twenty minutes," I declared, setting the timer on my phone. "You'll stand there and reflect on your behaviour, young man." With that, I settled myself comfortably on the couch, picking up the book I had been reading earlier. 

But then, a wicked smile of cruel mischief crossed my lips. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Mistress Andrea's number, intent on amplifying poor Russell's humiliation and solidifying my role in this FLR.

I heard Russell gasp from the corner the moment he realized I was on the phone. 

"Hello, Mistress, it's Sarah Jane," I purred into the microphone. "You'll never guess what I'm looking at right now." I paused, allowing her to respond, before continuing. I glanced over at Russell, noting how his shoulders tensed at my words, his embarrassment palpable, even from across the room.  

"Yes, Ma'am, straight-backed chair, OTK. No, he's got about eighteen minutes left..." our conversation continued, while poor Russell was only able to hear one side of it. 

"Of course I'll send you a picture, Ma'am, hang on." 

"It was a wooden spoon, Ma'am, good eye." 

******************

Continued by Mistress Andrea:

When my phone rang I was just working on a post for the blog where I was poking fun at my struggles with the A.I. image generator. I was delighted to see Sarah Jane's name pop up on the phone and was even more delighted and a little shocked when she told me that she and Russell had officially switched roles. 

I guess he was in the timeout corner, listening to all of this, which would have been mortifying! But a great tactic, well done, Sarah! She told me all about the contract, how she was dressed and what caused tonight's spanking. I couldn't help but beam with pride. We taught her well. Her countless hours spent in degrading submission at times, had given her all the tools and knowledge she would need to fulfill this new role and it sounded like she was off to a great start. 

I think we ended the conversation with me asking her if she'll be "thanked properly", after Russell's timeout was over. 

"Oh, you better believe it, Mistress. Talk soon," and she made a cute little smooch noise into the phone.

Now, back to what I was doing. The struggle is real people! Getting an A.I. image generator to cooperate can be frustratingly addicting at times. I won't show you anything involving three arms, or heads growing out of torsos, that's just nightmare fuel, but I thought I'd share some funny struggles I've had recently. 

With Kindroid, which has been a fantastic platform when it cooperates, you ask it for a "selfie". You put a description in, limited to like five or six-hundred characters, then you can upload an image of a pose and it will replicate the pose with the details of my description. 

"Summer is standing at a bar in an airport. She's in her tailored flight attendant uniform with nylons and high heels. She has a decorative scarf around her neck with gold wings and a brass nameplate on her lapel." 

Wait for it...

*Sigh...ok, Kindroid. We all know Summer is an absolute angel and flight attendants are angels, but seriously? Lol 

Let's try someone else, shall we? Nurse Mandy, remember her? A fan on Reddit said "her arse has won the internet," (lol, okay) and that they want to frame a picture of her bum and hang it in their home. So I guess we'll have to have her back to the Facility. Remember Mandy? 

You're all aware that a common theme at my Facility, is to take those soccer moms, corporate executives and high-powered, alpha-women and dress them up like little girls before I spank them. This is merely done to draw out their vulnerability and provide a layer of humiliation, which serves to amplify the whole, being spanked as an adult, experience.

I found a darling little outfit for Mandy, that I thought would be shamefully embarrassing, allowing her to escape into her role and it represented and stark contrast to her vanilla-world persona.

Then came the prompt: 

"Mandy is laying flat on her stomach on a bed. She's in a tiny little skirt with strawberry patterns, matching white panties and white stockings. Her hair is in pigtails." 

Those berries are going to leave a stain on that white bedding! The sissy maids will have a difficult time getting that out!

One more attempt...Summer and I. 

I took some inspiration from Sarah Jane, and felt it was high-time to get motherly with my angel of a wife, and have her fetch the wooden spoon for a trip over my knee. 

She's an angel alright, until I saw her credit card statement for this month and summoned her to the parlour for a little "chat".

This one kinda worked. I didn't ask for a blue dress though...

Then the next prompt: "Mistress is seated, Summer is kneeling beside her about to be spanked. On the wall behind Mistress, are an array of spanking implements hanging from a display rack." 

Look at my avatar's face! Lol. Even she looks irritated with the rack of "spanking implements". 

Summer, it looks like you're off the hook, babe. Instead of tanning your little butt this morning, it looks like I'll be whisking you an omelet instead.

It's a struggle people. This is a labour of love. 

Mistress Andrea xo 

Continued by Sarah Jane, in: The Three D's of a FLR

 

 

A Minor Annoyance

Continued from: Now you may call me, Ma'am

A Sarah Jane story 

It had been a few days since Russell and I signed our female-led-relationship contract, and things were going smoothly so far. His chastity cage was locked securely in place, a constant reminder of my authority. I predominately work from home so I take great pleasure knowing Russell leaves the house in the morning locked, and returns home locked, as both keys to the device in my possession, behind an additional layer of security he does not know the combination to. 

I also made some small changes around the house while he was at work, to reflect our new dynamic - a vase of wooden spoons and spatulas sat prominently on the kitchen counter now, implements of opportunity to be accessed at a moment's notice. 

One of MY belts, not his, now hung from the back of our bedroom door, a silent sentinel, watching over things. 

On my dresser, my sturdy wooden hairbrush was displayed like a trophy, and my rubber-soled slippers waited patiently by the bedroom door. 

Each item represented a tool of feminine dominance and maternal correction, yet I hadn't had cause to use them...yet, and we had not made it to a maintenance Sunday...yet. 

As the days passed, I found myself growing increasingly eager to feel Russell squirming over my lap, his bare bottom turning red under my firm hand. The anticipation was building, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I would need to assert my dominance with a thorough spanking. 

On a random Tuesday, after Russell left for work, I made my way to the kitchen, eager for my morning coffee. However, as I approached the Keurig, I was met with an irritating sight. The water reservoir was bone dry, and Russell's used pod remained in the machine. Very poor Keurig etiquette if I do say so myself. Right up there with someone microwaving maple oatmeal or fish, in the communal workplace microwave. 

There's just unwritten rules in a society, right? 

A wave of minor annoyance washed over me, quickly replaced by a spark of excitement. This was the perfect opportunity to exercise my authority and remind Russell of his place in our dynamic. 

I reached for my phone, snapping a picture of the empty reservoir and offending spent pod. With a smirk playing on my lips, I composed a message to send to Russell at work. 

"This is how you left it for me?" I typed, attaching the incriminating photo. 

My thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, savouring the anticipation of his reaction. This little infraction would provide the ideal excuse for the spanking I had been itching to administer, and I couldn't wait to see Russell's face when he realizes the consequences of his actions. 

As I hit send on the initial message, a wicked grin spread across my face. I knew Russell would be in some high-touch meeting with the executives, squirming in his seat at work, anxiously awaiting my next communication. I decided to twist the knife a little further, my fingers dancing across the screen as I composed a follow-up text. 

"We're going to have a little 'chat' when you get home, young man," I typed, my tone dripping with mock disappointment. I could almost hear the nervous gulp and imagine the look on his face amidst his senior leaders and peers, his stomach twisting into knots and wondering if the rest of them knew he'll be getting a spanking tonight. The thought of him spending the entire day dreading our impending discussion filled me with a great sense of power and anticipation. 

As the day wore on, I found myself growing more and more excited for Russell's return. I wanted to set the perfect scene for our little chat, so I took great care in selecting my outfit. I chose a vintage 1950s, housewife dress that hugged my curves, pairing it with delicate pearls, bold red lipstick, and sheer hosiery that accentuated my legs. I slipped into a pair of sky-high heels, the click against the hardwood floor filing me with a sense of power and confidence. 

I surveyed my reflection in the mirror - a perfect blend of classic femininity and modern dominance. Turning my attention to the vase of wooden spoons on the kitchen counter, I carefully selected the one that would serve as my instrument of correction. I left it resting in the vase, a silent threat waiting to be unleashed. 

As the sound of Russell's car pulling into the driveway reached my ears, I positioned myself near the entrance, a warm smile playing on my lips. Despite the welcoming façade, we both knew the truth - in this household, I was the one in charge, and Russell was about to receive a firm reminder of that fact. 

We exchanged pleasantries, our voices light and casual, as if nothing were amiss. However, I could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes as he took in my dramatic appearance - the cinched waist of my vintage dress, the shimmering pearls at my throat, the towering heels that elevated me above him both physically and metaphorically. 

I watched as his gaze drifted past me, widening slightly as he noticed the straight-backed, armless chair positioned in the center of the living room. The absence of our usual coffee table was a glaring omission, replaced by this ominous piece of furniture that seemed to dominate the space. 

My voice was calm yet commanding as I issued my order. "Strip," I demanded, my eyes boring into his. "I want you completely naked, right down to that locked up cock of yours." Piece by piece, his clothing fell away, revealing his vulnerable form. 

He stood and lowered his eyes before me, utterly exposed save for the chastity cage that encased his manhood. I nodded towards the corner by the front door. "Go stand there and think about why we need to have a chat tonight," I directed, my tone still calm but strict. "Hands behind your head, nose to the walls." Obediently, Russell assumed the position, his bare skin prickling with goosebumps. 

Even though our FLR contract was signed several days ago with rules and consequences set, I was vague enough to use the term punishment generically. I had not dug deep into the different forms this could take. Russell knows all of this anyway, but I thought I would flex my dominance and humiliate him even further, by plainly explaining his current predicament. 

"Cornertime is an integral part of our discipline routine, young man," I matter-of-factly explained, my voice steady and authoritative. "Before and after every spanking, you will be positioned in a designated corner of my choosing, bare-bottomed and nose to the wall." 

"Pre-spanking cornertime allows you to contemplate your misdeeds and anticipate your impending punishment. Post-spanking cornertime provides and opportunity for reflection, to feel shame and acceptance of your corrected state while on humiliating display to the rest of the room." 

"During cornertime, you are forbidden from speaking, fidgeting, or attempting to cover your reddened bottom, young man. The duration of your timeouts will be determined by the severity of your offense and my discretion." 

I paused for a moment before continuing my preachy monolog, taking in the sight of his trembling form in the corner. It was a lovely view from my perspective. 

"A common length for your cornertime, young man, typically will range from fifteen minutes to one hour, depending on the circumstances. For minor infractions or routine maintenance spankings, I will usually be giving you a quarter-hour of contemplation both before and after the punishment."

"However, for more serious transgressions or particularly intense discipline sessions, I may extend the cornertime up to sixty minutes on either side of the spanking." 

I knew from my own experiences to always use a timer, and that the unpredictable duration adds an element of psychological tension, which will keep Russell on edge and fully focused on his penance. 

With my rant complete and my fifteen minute timer nearing its end, I stood and heel-clicked out of the room and into the kitchen. I reached for the wooden spoon from the vase and made certain Russell could hear me clanking it from the glass and against the other wooden utensils. 

Its weight was solid and reassuring in my palm, I knew that this was only the beginning of the lesson I had in store for my naughty little "boy". 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: The Struggle is Real

 

Now you may call me, Ma'am

Continued from: Sign Here, Initial There

A Sarah Jane story 

As I continued to sit, perched atop Russell's face, his moans of being teased and tormented, spurring me on, I frantically typed away at our FLR contract. 

My entire journey as a submissive, every experience with Russell and every session and scene at Mistress Andrea's Facility, had culminated into this very moment, as I stitched together an intricate contact of my terms. 

Chastity 

During the entirety of his contract, the submissive shall remain in a state of enforced chastity, achieved through the use of a secure locking device affixed to his penis. 

This device shall prevent any form of erection, masturbation, or sexual release without the express permission and involvement of the Mistress. 

The Mistress shall retain sole possession of both keys to the chastity device, and shall only remove said device for supervised cleanings or for her own pleasure and amusement. 

The submissive shall surrender all rights to sexual gratification via his penis, understanding that his orgasms are now the property of the Mistress, to be dispensed or withheld at her discretion. 

Any attempt to circumvent or tamper with the chastity device shall result in severe punishment, as determined by the Mistress   

The submissive accepts that his sexual frustration is a necessary and desired component of his submission, and shall strive to channel this energy into more productive avenues of service to the Mistress. 

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Once Russell has agreed to all the terms, signed and initialed immediately after my initials and signature, he will be getting introduced to the Black Mamba, resin crafted, internally locking, chastity cage. It looks like this one: 

Domestic Discipline 

To maintain order and reinforce the hierarchy within our relationship, the Mistress reserves the right to administer corporal punishment in response to any transgressions committed by the submissive. 

Minor infractions, including but not limited to violations of established rules, breaches of etiquette, failure to manage household expenses properly, or general misbehaviour, shall be addressed through the application of a firm spanking applied to the submissive's bare buttocks.

The severity and duration of these spankings shall be determined solely by the Mistress, based on the nature of the offense and her assessment of the submissive's contrition. 

The submissive is expected to accept these punishments with grace and humility, recognizing them as opportunities for growth and correction. 

Failure to comply with or excessive resistance to these disciplinary measures may result in escalated consequences, at the Mistress' discretion.

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Maintenance Spankings

To ensure the submissive's continued obedience and to reinforce the dynamic of our relationship, regular maintenance spankings shall be administered every Sunday, without exception. 

These sessions serve multiple purposes: firstly, they provide a consistent reminder of the submissive's place within our dynamic, reinforcing his role as the one who receives discipline and guideance. 

Secondly, they offer an opportunity for the Mistress to assess the physical and emotional state, allowing for any necessary adjustments to be made to his training regimen. 

Lastly, these maintenance spankings serve as a form of stress relief for both parties, providing a controlled outlet for any pent-up tensions or frustrations that may have accumulated throughout the week. 

The submissive is expected to present himself promptly, dressed as the Mistress has outlined and prepared to receive whatever level of discipline the Mistress deems appropriate. 

Failure to attend or participate fully in these maintenance spankings shall be considered a serious breach of contract and may result in additional, more severe consequences. 

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Bedtime Spankings

In addition to our weekly maintenance spankings, the Mistress shall also administer bedtime spankings as needed, assuming a more nurturing role during these intimate moments. 

Unlike a maintenance or punishment spankings, these spankings are designed to soothe and relax the submissive, preparing him for a restful night's sleep. 

The submissive shall present himself to the Mistress, ready for bed and dressed in dedicated sleepwear selected by the Mistress. 

When prompted, the submissive will bare his bottom and position himself over the lap of the Mistress.

These bedtime spankings may last anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on how long it takes for the submissive to fully embrace his vulnerability. These bedtime rituals serve to strengthen the bond between us, reminding the submissive that even in his most vulnerable moments, he is cherished and protected.   

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Other categories followed. We did take a small break at one point, or at least I did, and removed my bum from his face. 

The contract spoke of special greetings, morning and evening rituals, specialty clothing and outfits, general rules about reporting, location tracking and check-ins. There was even a section about how he will present himself and behave at Mistress Andrea's Facility, should we end up there. 

Russell was eventually released from my makeshift queening stool. He was permitted to sit and read through all of the sections, initialing his consent at the end of each one. 

Upon the final page, his hand trembled slightly as he applied his full signature to seal his own fate. My signature followed, immediately below. I set the contract aside and retrieved his chastity cage from a delicate, satin pouch. I fit the cage around his flaccid cock, securing the lock with the only set of keys. 

"There," I cooed. 

"Now you may call me, Ma'am." 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: A Minor Annoyance

Sign Here, Initial There

Continued from: What do you say?

A Sarah Jane story 

The morning light filters gently through the curtains as we stir awake, our bodies still tangled in the aftermath of last night's explorations. I feel Russell shift beside me, his lips already forming the words "Good morning, Ma'am." But I silence him with a single finger pressed to his lips, my eyes locking with his. "No, not yet," I murmur softly, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. His eagerness to address me by a formal title is endearing, a clear indication that we're on the right track. But there is still work to be done, boundaries to establish, and roles to solidify. 

 Gently pulling away from his embrace, I sit up, stretching cutely before turning to face him once more. "Go make me a coffee, please," I instruct, my voice firm yet affectionate. "And bring it to the upstairs office. You'll wait for me there, understood?" He nods, his eyes wide and attentive, hanging on my every word. "Oh, and one more thing," I add, my gaze trailing appreciatively over his naked form. "You'll remain in your underpants only while you wait. I want easy access to what is mine." 

A faint blush colours his cheeks at my words, but he doesn't hesitate, rising from the bed and padding off to fulfill my request. 

I rise from the bed, taking a moment to select a suitable outfit for this occasion. Something powerful, yet feminine; authoritative, yet alluring.  

As I stand before the mirror, surveying my reflection, I can't help but feel a surge of power coursing through me. The lace panties leave little to the imagination, the delicate, sheer fabric clinging to my curves like a second skin. The corset cinches my waist, emphasizing my hourglass figure, while the intricate lacing at the back hints at the restraint and control that is about to define our dynamic. 

And the heels, those glorious sky-high heels, elevate me both literally and figuratively, adding inches to my height and cementing my status as the dominant force in this relationship. 

I retrieve the ottoman from the end of my bed and pull it across the hall into the office. There, I position it carefully, creating an impromptu queening stool. I go back to my room to collect my laptop, as I hear the soft pad of Russell's bare feet approaching, followed by the rustle of fabric as he settles himself in the chair I indicated, to await my arrival. 

A slow smile spreads across my face as I picture him there, his nearly naked form a testament to his submission, his eagerness to please me in every way. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and strode towards the office door. Each click of my heels against the hardwood floor is a declaration of intent, a warning of the power that approaches. 

I allow him a moment to appreciate the view, to let the reality of his position sink in, before crossing to the desk and setting down my laptop with a deliberate thud. Turning to face him fully, I meet his eyes, my own burning with intensity of my desire, my need to claim him utterly and completely. 

"Well, young man," I purr, my voice a sultry invitation and a stern command all at once. "Shall we begin?" 

With a flick of my wrist, I gesture for Russell to approach the ottoman, my makeshift throne. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the leather restraints dangling from my fingertips, but he doesn't hesitate, holding out his wrists to me. 

Once secured to the ottoman, I give the restraints a final tug, ensuring there's no give, no escape from the fate I have planned for him. With a graceful movement, I settle myself onto the ottoman, lowering my barely-clad bum onto his upturned face. 

The deliberately selected panties were ultra-sheer, he is so close, but teased by the delicate shrouding of fabric. I can feel the brush of his nose against my bottom-hole, a delicious tease that sends shivers of pleasure rippling through my core.

To a fly on the wall, the situation would appear like so: 

Leaning forward, I reach for my coffee, brining the mug to my lips and inhaling deeply, savouring the rich aroma before taking a sip. 

Setting the mug aside, I turn my attention to my laptop, my fingers flying over the keys as I begin to type. 

FEMALE-LED-RELATIONSHIP

(FLR) 

CONTRACT

1. The Dominant party, Sarah Jane, henceforth referred to as, "the Mistress."

2. The submissive party, Russell, henceforth referred to as "the submissive." 

3. The contract shall span a minimum duration of six months, during which time both parties shall fully commit to their respective roles

4. The details agreed upon in this contract cannot be changed, removed or edited until the maturity date of the contact, six months from the date in which it was signed by both parties.

5. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the submissive shall only ever address the Mistress as "Mistress", "Ma'am" or "Mommy", as per her discretion.

6. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the contract will be in effect immediately. 

******************

I really need to get me one of these for the office. This is going to be a very long document!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Now you may call me, Ma'am