After sending Mandy to the corner, I set a timer for twenty minutes and settled into a nearby chair, admiring the view of her freshly spanked bottom. Mandy remained perfectly still, her nose pressed firmly against the corner, her hands clasped obediently behind her head.
As many of you know, I often write about layering, when it comes to BDSM. Whether this means a properly layered spanking or the strategic application of bondage, in compounding layers. Not only is the layering functional, but most importantly is how it affects the psychology and headspace of the submissive.
Picture how you would feel, having your partner bind your ankles with a soft, silky scarf, the kind you'd get in a beginners bondage kit off Amazon. Cute, and it has its time and place.
Versus finding yourself at the mercy of your dominant partner, in a bondage configuration like this:
Things should "feel" different, your butterflies should feel different and your sense of helplessness should be greatly heightened.
Poor Mandy, having been betrayed by her own pussy in the last installment, was manually edged by me, denied orgasm, then spanked directly on her traitorous petals. I couldn't think of a better time to layer her.
I approached the changing table, my eyes roaming over the array if equipment I prepared for her continued torment. Baby wipes, powder, a realistic looking anal plug complete with lubricant - these are the instruments of my control.
I ran my fingers over the smooth leather of the chastity belt, admiring the sturdiness of the metal locks and buckles. Once secured around Mandy's diaper, this device will render her utterly helpless, unable to access her most sensitive areas with my express permission.
Beside the chastity belt, laid a pair of padded bondage mittens, their soft pink fabric a stark contrast to the reality of their purpose. Lockable of course, these will ensure that Mandy's hands remain useless, incapable of even the simplest acts of self-pleasure or relief.
"Up you get, little one," I say, patting the padded surface of the adult-sized change table. "It's time to get you ready for your nap."
I watch with rapt attention, as Mandy squirms and writhes on the changing table, her face contorted with shame and humiliation. With a resigned sigh, she lays back and lifts her legs into the air, her thighs falling open to expose her most intimate parts to my inspection.
I took a moment to admire the view, savouring the sight of her vulnerable, trembling form. She gasped as I blotted the cold baby wipe against her soaked pussy, wiping away the evidence of her shameful arousal. Her eyes widened in horror as I dabbed and wiped a second one against her puckered anus, the scent of them leaving an innocent freshness in their wake.
Mandy tensed as I circled her asshole with my fingers, applying generous amounts of lubricant inside and out. "Relax, baby girl," I cooed, my voice dripping with false reassurance. "This won't hurt a bit...well, not too much, anyway." Before she could respond, I pressed the tip of the penis plug against her little pucker, until it breached and entered.
Mandy's mouth fell open in a silent moan, her eyes rolled back in her head as the thick, veiny plug seated in place, the base peeked out obscenely from between her spanked ass cheeks. Reaching for the baby powder, I shook a liberal amount between her legs, coating her naughty pussy in a fine, white dust. The scent was overwhelming, sickening sweet, a perfect accompaniment to the humiliation she must have been feeling when she watched me slid the crinkly diaper under her tender bum.
Do my layers end there? Is that enough?
Of course not.
Once in the crib and comfortably on her back, I affixed soft leather bondage cuffs to Mandy's ankles, locking these as well and securing them to the bars of the crib.
I'd love to use a pacifier gag for her, but I wouldn't be able to leave her alone with something like that in her mouth. Secured and plugged in her denied predicament, I leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Mommy will be back in a little while, sweetheart...try to nap."
Then, with a satisfied smirk, I turned and exited the room.
I took off my Mommy Domme outfit and changed into something a little more comfortable, to prepare for the second stage of Mandy's session, after her nap.
I checked the time delay to the UK before calling my sweet Cassandra for our weekly check-in. It was early evening there, which meant she was likely deep into a session at her fetish studio.
"Hello, sweetheart!" I purred into the phone, my voice maternal and warm. As she and I began to converse, I became increasingly aware of the background noises emanating from her end of the line. The sharp crack of a whip cut through the air, followed by a muffled gasp and a wet, slurping sound.
No doubt, she had some poor, unsuspecting man trussed up in lingerie and high heels, kneeling before her as she guided his reluctant mouth onto a waiting erection.
"Mistress Cassandra, but I'm not gay," I heard this British accent whimper pathetically, his voice strained with desperation. Cassandra's laughter rang out, cold and cruel. "Of course you're not pet," she purred sarcastically, "you just have another man's cock in your mouth right now. Now stop your whining and get back to work, that dick isn't gonna suck itself."
"Mistress, can I call you back in like 15? This little cock whore needs more motivating."
I heard another crack of a whip and a yelp of pain, before the line went dead on me. I couldn't help but chuckle and shake my head. I can't wait to hear all about this one...
Tsk tsk...oh, Cassie...
Mistress Andrea
xoxo
