Today's Lesson: The Duality of BDSM

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Sarah Cashes in on her Allowance

Continued from: Sports Betting

[M/f] [CNC] [maledom] [F/mf] [chastity] [dildos] [butt plug] [gangbang]

A Sarah Jane story

With my increased allowance comes the opportunity to plan something truly unforgettable for Daddy. As I pondered the possibilities, I found myself torn between two competing desires: to indulge my submissive side and surrender to Daddy's whims, while also wanting to surprise him with a special treat that will leave him weak in the knees. 

I slipped into a fetching schoolgirl outfit, complete with a plaid skirt, paired with knee-high socks and Mary Jane heels. I didn't go with a top, leaving me clad in a demure bra that barely contained my bouncing tits. 

Next, I prepared the surface of the dresser: a trifecta of dildos and a realistic butt plug, staged and laid out like an invitation to debauchery. I put his chastity key around my neck on a gold necklace and gagged my own mouth. These subtle gestures, speaking volumes about my willingness to surrender and be taken by Daddy when he arrives.  

Before cuffing my hands behind my back, I shot him a saucy text, hinting at the freedom that awaits him. The message was concise yet loaded with promise. "Mommy raised my allowance, Daddy!" Followed by sending a number of eggplant emojis. "I'm up in our bedroom, we have 90 minutes!!" 

With my wrists securely cuffed and a silencing ball gag in place, I settled in to wait for Daddy's arrival. The anticipation was making my pussy soaked, my heart thrumming like a drumline in my chest. As I sit there on the floor, cuffed to the leg of the dresser, my imagination runs wild with possibilities. I'm secretly hoping that he'll take one look at all the dildos and the plug and know exactly what I want. 

The anticipation was killing me, amplified by my bound inability to play with my pussy while I waited. But finally, the moment of truth arrived, and Daddy burst into the room, clearly eager to have his penis unlocked after several weeks in his cage. 

He quickly surveyed the scene as I whimpered through my gag, playing the role of a non-consensual captive, about to be claimed by her captor! Noticing the chastity key glinting between my cleavage, Daddy swooped in and ripped the necklace free, slapping one of my tits with a firm, corrective hand. I let out another whimper, the sound stifled by the rubber ball that was doing its best to silence me. 

While Daddy set upon releasing his caged penis, his eyes scanned the assortment of toys I carefully arranged, a sly smile spreading across his face like a mischievous little boy. And then, without warning, he took hold of my arm and uncuffed my wrists, dragging me away from the dresser and onto my knees. 

With my face just inches from his growing cock, I whined out a futile plea of mercy, before my lips closed around his intruding penis. 

"Please, Mister! Just let me go...I don't want...guuuurgh*" 

Before long, my hands are busy jerking off the two dildos on the dresser, as my mouth engulfed the largest of the cocks, the one I had strategically placed in the middle, its ridges and bumps providing a delightful counterpoint to the sensations building inside me. Meanwhile, Daddy's fingers were busy too, expertly guiding the realistic plug into my tight asshole, stretching me to capacity as I squirmed beneath his touch. 

As I gazed into the mirror to witness my own debasement, Daddy entered me from behind, completing the degrading but thrilling scenario of having all three of my holes filled with dick, while providing hand jobs to two other "men". 

I deliberately crafted this scene for Daddy, as the clock continued to countdown on my extended, 90 minute allowance with Daddy's penis. I'm a grown woman, dressed in the remnants of a ridiculous schoolgirl outfit, sucking on a dildo while my hands frantically jerk off two more. My asshole is plugged, my pussy is being pounded, and I'm staring at my reflection with a mixture of shame and desire. 

Was I the dominant or was I submissive in this very moment? I orchestrated this tableau of humiliation to feel like a complete and utter whore. I craved the sensation of being humiliated, of being reduced to nothing more than a vessel for cock. There was something perversely liberating about surrendering to these darker impulses. 

As Daddy continued to take control, I was treated to some delightful pussy-to-mouth, forcing me to clean my own juices from his cock, my senses soon heightened as he resumed his pounding of my pussy. My ass was being spanked, my hair was being pulled, forcing my open mouth on and off the middle dildo. All the while, I'm pretending to be a reluctant participant, imagining that I'm being taken by not one, not two, but five burly men, each one eager to claim a hole for themselves. 

In this fantastical scene, I was forced to use my little hands to keep the other two cocks hard and ready for their turn to ravish me. And when it all reached its climax (literally!) Daddy unleashed his load onto my face and into my mouth, a load of significant volume after his time in the cock cage. 

I collapsed back onto the bed, spent and exhausted, I couldn't help but giggle at the sheer audacity of it all. I checked the clock, noting that our 90-minute allowance was almost up, and soon Daddy's cock will be locked away once more, courtesy of Mistress Andrea. 

Speaking of whom, she gently let herself into the room, a knowing glint in her eye as she took in the sight of my disheveled state: cum-streaked face, smacked red bum, hair a mess...she couldn't help but chuckle at the state of me. 

When she clicked into the light I gasped at the state she was in, full Dominatrix mode and holding Daddy's cock cage seductively in her hand. She looked absolutely stunning, enough to stir the butterflies within me, not knowing her intentions. 

She looked down at Daddy and I on the bed, issuing her authoritative commands, making me believe we were about to be disciplined. 

"Both of you!" She hissed, "Down to the dungeon, NOW! Summer is already down there." 

But then she smiled, her gaze becoming maternal and loving as she slapped Daddy on the bare bum to hurry him along. 

"We need to celebrate Valentine's Day...as a family!" She giggled, while clicking behind us down the basement stairs. 

Happy belated Valentine's Day, everyone. Love, Mistress Andrea and her unconventional little family. 

Sarah Jane

💟

Continued in: Duality of BDSM

 

Sports Betting

Continued from: Feet Lovers

[F/f] [spanking] [humiliation] [lezdom]

So the girls went on record and officially picked their teams for the Super Bowl last night, a game that before it started, could have gone either way. 

Patrick and the Chiefs probably represented the safe bet, while Jaylen and the Eagles could have been perceived as more of the gamble. 

As for me. I got to sit this one out, as my team are the New Orleans Saints. Black and gold...was there ever any question, it totally suits me! 

And, as many of you know who have read my blog in its entirety, New Orleans holds a special place in my heart. 

One of the nice features about living in Canada and being an NFL fan, is that we're not geographically bound to root for a home team. You can essentially just pick any team to become "my team". So the Saints have always been my jam. 

Alas, no black and gold to cheer for this year, and I certainly wasn't going to pick Taylor Swift's boyfriend's team. Hey, if we become the 51st state do we get an NFL team? The Toronto polar bears or something? That could be a perk to Trump's insanity...we get a home team to cheer for. 

There was talk once, about Canada getting a NFL team. I'm glad we didn't because we likely would have dicked it up. Having been to a tailgate before (Buffalo Bills), it is truly about the atmosphere and electricity of game day, the people, food and friends to enjoy the experience with. 

We still have laws pertaining to alcohol that date back to the prohibition era. People would complain about noise or traffic. There would likely be rules surrounding cooking in the parking lot, or that would be outlawed all together, so concession food has a monopoly. A tailgate would become a "beer gardens" to the tune of $12.99 for a can of beer. 

Yep, we would have dicked this up royally. Don't believe me, take a family of four to a Toronto Maple Leafs game, you'll be in for a thousand dollar night. 

Anyway...rant over. 

I ended up going with the Eagles, as the girls literally got into slutty cheerleader outfits with matching CFM boots. (Oooo, there's an old-school term!) 

Just as the kickoff was about to go down, Russ and I could hear them giggling and commiserating on the floor in front of us. They had apparently placed a wager on the game. The winning girl gets to spank the losing girl, followed by anal punishment. 

They asked us for permission to lay down this bet. Russell and I clarified with them, what exactly anal punishment consisted of. I guess the winner will get to strap-on bang the losing girl, in the butt. *Sigh, oh girls! That one was totally Sarah Jane's idea, I could tell, she's such a little butt-slut. 

With the stakes clearly laid out, the girls continued to giggle as they shook on it and hugged, sealing their fate with the bookies (Russell and I).  

By halftime, with a score of 24-0, our little Sarah Jane started to get quiet as Russ and I watched on in amusement. By the end of the game with the Eagles putting up 40 points to Mahommes' 22, Sarah Jane removed her panties and quietly walked to the corner to await her fate. 

At least she was a good sport about it! Certainly not a sore loser…yet! 

Russell and I watched from the opposing sofa as Summer took Sarah over her knee, lifted her adorable cheer skirt and went to town on her porcelain bare bum. Half way through the spanking I went to retrieve the "punishment" strap-on and some lubricant. We keep a special, more robust strap-on dildo for moments such as these, when "anal punishment" is necessary. 

Summer faced Sarah into the corner after her spanking, positioning her on all fours, starring ahead at the blank wall in shame and embarrassment. 

With a generous amount of lubricant, Summer saw to her task with a punishing enthusiasm, pounding her hips into poor Sarah's spanked bottom. The room was filled with Sarah's grunting, as she struggled to take her punishment. Each grunt was met with a sharp slap from Summer, telling her to be quiet and take it. 

We all slept in the same bed last night, all nestled in various positions of intimacy, Sarah Jane's spanked and ravaged ass, nuzzled against Russell's locked-up penis. 

"Sorry you lost," I heard him whisper to Sarah. 

"It was still a win in my books," she replied with a giggle from both her and Summer. 

What a pair, these two! Total butt sluts! 

Maybe next year, I'll enter the mix with a bet of my own. Maybe Russell and I should square off with a bet? One that could land me over Daddy's knee. Should I start shopping for my own cheer uniform? 

Hehe

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

 

Feet Lovers

Continued from: Helping a Friend

[Flight Attendant] [feet] [foot fetish] [hosiery] [high heels] [F/m]

A.I prompt: Can you make me an image of a play on words. A Domino's pizza box that says "feet lovers" instead of meat lovers?

This was about the 30th attempt at this image above, and it's actually kinda cute. I can live with this one. 

This one was a bit concerning, with the knife, and not A.I. generated. This one came from the interwebs. Sorta cute also. 

You know what else is cute? My wife, Summer! 

Now get inside and warm those buns up before I'm forced to help you warm them up!

"Oui, Mummy." 

After a few years and over 300 short stories, I have realized that Summer herself, has never written one. She was interviewed once, by some wiener from the internet but she has not once, authored a story on here. Probably because her English is not 100%, she has a noticeable, one could say thick, French accent. Also very cute! 

Go have a look at her interview: Someone's Gonna Get It

So, dear readers, try to follow along as best you can, with her Frenchness sprinkled into this one. Take it away Summer, after you get off eBay and put your phone down. 

"Oui Mademoiselle." 

I remember zee moment I first realize zee power of my feet, so vividly. I was une jeune fille, fresh out of flight attendant training, et eager to explore zee vast world. One of my first long-haul flights, I found myzelf noticing some of zee male passengers...zey would be starring at my feet. My feet zat were encased in sheer black stockings and perched atop zee high stilettos. 

Zee hours spent walking up and down zee aisle, attending to pazzengers' needs, had left my feet aching and swollen. But as I admired zem, I could see what zaa silly men were seeing, 'ow shapely and elegant zey looked. Zee arch of my foot was perfectly defined, my toes delicately tapered, and zee skin smooth and unblemished. Look and zee for yourzelf:

It was zen zat I decided to celebrate my beautiful pieds, to adorn zem and show zem off to zee world. I began wearing dainty anklets and zee toe rings, painting my nails a deep, seductive red, and slipping into zee finest silk stockings and lace-topped hold-ups. I took all zaa pride in caring for my feet, massaging zem with luxurious French lotions and keeping zem soft and supple. 

After meeting ma cherie, Vanessa, she told me her naughti, naughti little secrets. She is a very bad girl, who needs zee spanks! Somezing we also dabbled in, cherie and I. 

After zees long flights we would kick off our heels in zaa h'otel room and snap pictures of our stocking-clad feets, zee sheer fabric clinging to our sweaty soles and toes. We posted zees images onto the internets, describing zee aches and pains of our travels, telling zee men how much we needed the massages and comforts. 

To my surprise, zee responses were overwhelming. Men from all over zaa world began messaging me, complimenting my feet and begging for more photos. Zees men were captivated by my feet, driven wild with desire by zaa sight of my sweaty stockings and exhausted arches. They offered me money, gifts, anyzing to convince me to send to them my worn nylons or shoes. 

And so, my little side business was born, I started selling my used stockings, pantyhose, and heels to zee highest biddars, carefully packaging zem to preserve my unique scent and zee evidence of my femininity. 

I developed a system with Vanessa's help, verifying the authenticity of my items, taking photos and videos of myzelf wearing zem, sealing zem in airtight bags with my signature and a personal note. 

But zee more I embraced my role as a purveyor of worn delicates (I was zelling my knickers, too) zee more I found myself drawn into zee world of kink and BDSM. Zee men who bought my items often had very specific requests, asking me about my last spankings or if I like to be tied up. I must admit, zier ideas were exciting to me. 

This is a time in her life where she can't explain it in English, but she basically didn't want her severed feet to end up in some dude's freezer. Oh look, a creepy basement!

The bad man on the internet said it was safe down there...go on, Summer. He just wants to take some pictures of your feet." 

Oh fuck! 

Safety, ladies! Safety, safety! I get the whole CNC (consensual non-consent) play, but please take care of yourselves and be smart about power dynamics play. 

Zat is when I met my beloved Mistress Andrea. She led me through zee various rooms of her Facilitee, each equipped with its own array of bondage gear, whips, and other implements of discipline. Here was a place where I could safely indulge my deepest, darkest fantazee, where I could surrender completely to zee pleasures of submission. She was tall and statuesque, with jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a commanding presence zat made my knees weak. A woman who could bend me to her will, with nothink more zan a glance. 

Eventually, our relationship evolved beyond zee confines of zee fetish studio. We moved in together, sharing a grand mansion on zee outskirts of zaa city. Mistress continued to run her business, welcoming clients into our home and guiding zem tru dare own journey of submission and self-discovery. Meanwhile, I balance my duty as her devoted slave with my career as a flight attendant, jetting off to exotic destinations and returning home to kneel at her feet. 

Our love story culminated in dramatic fashion. I'm going to start crying. Our love story culminated in a hotel room in New Orleans, when Mistress hid her face from me, to hide zaa tears in her eyes. 

That storyline can be found here: I have a plane to catch

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you anymore." She zed to me. Right before she told me that she loved me. 

"Say it again..." I replied to her. Hehe, and she did! 

As I embraced my role as Mistress Andrea's devoted wife and submissive, she encouraged all of zaa feet content and grew my side-hustle into a lucrative business zat has made us beyond rich. 

Who would have thought, oui? Somezing zoe zimple as my little toes. 

Love always, 

Summer Addison Holiday 

💋

Continued in: Sports Betting