Just F**ked Mandy - For Real!

Continued from: Miss Julie Published a New Book

[F/f] [spanking] [forced bi] [humiliation]

Yes!!! She agreed to a selfie...kind of. That's me on the bottom. And I'm excited to report that the real "Mandy" and I, just had sex! 

Allow me to spill the beans on the character from this blog you have come to know as "Mandy". She's never been captive in my sex dungeon, she hasn't been out to the barn as a my pony slave, or engaged in wild, lesbian sex with Sarah Jane. But...she's been my neighbour IRL for several years.

The blog character of Mandy is based upon this brunette little cutie who lives a few doors down from my actual home. She is a nurse, she is a middle-aged soccer mom and she is married to her bozo husband, who golfs every weekend, leaving her alone to deal with her greasy kids.  

Picture this: A warm summer evening last weekend, the air thick with the scent of charcoal and grilled meat. The neighbourhood is abuzz with activity as families gather for the usual weekend barbeque. Laughter and chatter fill the air, loud, annoying children run and play, and the adults sip their drinks, enjoying the rare moments of relaxation. 

Amidst the chaos, I spot Mandy sitting alone in a patio chair, looking every bit the picture of suburban perfection. Her brown hair is pulled back under a hat, and she's wearing shorty shorts that hug her curves in all the right places. 

From afar, she appears to be the epitome of innocence - a devoted wife and mother, content with her quiet life in the suburbs. 

However...I introduced her to MY world, almost a year ago.

As I approach, I notice the slight flush in her cheeks, the way her eyes dart nervously around the yard. She knows I'm watching her, and the knowledge fills her with a heady mix of embarrassment and arousal. After all, it was only two days ago that she found herself sprawled across my bed, her face buried between my thighs as she lapped hungrily at my pussy. 

She's so adorable in those moments, with her desperate protests and masquerading innocence. 

"But, Mistress, I'm straight!" She pouts and cries out. 

So is spaghetti, sweetheart, until it gets wet. 

The memory of that night is still fresh in my mind, and I can't help but smile as I recall the way she trembled and moaned, her tongue working feverishly to bring me to climax. She had been so eager to please, so desperate to earn my approval and so motivated to avoid another trip over my knee. 

But now, here we are, surrounded by friends and neighbours, forced to maintain the façade of polite conversation and small talk. I can see the conflict in her eyes as she struggles to reconcile her public persona with the secret playdates we've been having behind closed doors. It's a delicious contradiction, one that never fails to excite me. 

As I draw nearer, I fix her with a stern gaze, silently communicating my D/s role over her. But for now, we must play the game, engaging in the banal pleasantries that society expects of us. I take a seat beside her, crossing my legs demurely as I gesture toward a chilled wine bottle within her reach. 

"Yes, Mistress," she whispers in the quietest of voice, her eyes scanning her surroundings before addressing me by title, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she pours me a glass. 

We chat about the weather, her kids, the latest gossip from the neighbourhood. All the while, the tension between us grows, building to a fever pitch as we wait for the moment when we can slip away undetected. 

Finally, after what feels like and eternity, the opportunity presents itself. As the party begins to wind down, and the guests start to drift home, I catch Mandy's eye once more. With a subtle tilt of my head, I indicate that it's time to sneak inside. 

She hesitates for a moment, glancing around nervously to ensure that no one is watching. Then, with a deep breath, she rises from her chair and follows me into the house, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. 

Inside, I waste no time in asserting my dominance. As soon as the door closes behind us, I spin her around and press her boobs against the wall, my hands roaming possessively over her ridiculously gorgeous ass. She gasps as I smack the seat of her shorts, my palm stinging from the force of the spank. 

"You've been such a good girl tonight," I murmur against her earlobe, taking it into my mouth and rolling it gently. "But you know you're due for an appointment with me, this week..." 

And that "appointment" occured...

She looks so adorable in her sensible khakis and button-down blouse, as she gazes down in horror at the outfit I've laid out for her on the bed. 

"No, Andrea, please," she begs, her voice trembling with desperation. "Not like this. I can't...wear...it's so embarrassing." 

But I cut her off with a sharp smack to her bottom, my eyes flashing with authority. "You will," I say firmly, my tone laced with mock annoyance. "And you'll do it because I told you to. Now stop your whining and get your school uniform on. I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

With that, I turn on my heels and power-click out of the room, leaving Mandy standing there in stunned silence. I know exactly how she feels - the humiliation, the shame, the utter mortification at being forced to dress like a child. But I also know that deep down, buried beneath the layers of respectability and her vanilla life, there's a part of her that craves this escape. A part of her that yearns to be stripped of her dignity, to be reduced to nothing more than a naughty little girl in need of a firm hand. 

I settle myself comfortably in a regal chair in the living room, crossing my legs to allow my gown to ride up my thighs. The curtains are open wide, letting in the bright afternoon sunshine. Anyone passing by on the street could easily glance in and see what's happening inside. The thought sends a delicious thrill of excitement through me. 

A few minutes later, I hear the tentative tap of Mandy's heels on the hardwood floor. She enters the room slowly, her head bowed and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She looks utterly adorable in the schoolgirl outfit - the plaid skirt barely covers her ass, and the knee socks make her look more innocent than usual. The shiny Mary Janes click loudly with each step, drawing unwanted attention to her every movement. 

"Come here, young lady," I command, patting my lap invitingly. Mandy hesitates for a moment, but then obeys, walking stiffly towards me with her hands protecting her bottom. When she reaches my side, I grab her wrist and pull her roughly across my knees, flipping up her skirt to expose her plain white granny panties. 

"These are coming down," I hiss, hooking my fingers into the waistband and yanking them down to her knees. Mandy squeaks in protest, squirming against my hold, but I pin her firmly in place with one palm on her lower back. With my free hand, I reach for the belt she brought with her, doubling it over and testing its weight in my palm. 

"Please, Ma'am," Mandy whimpers, her voice muffled by the floor before. "Not the belt. I'll be good, I promise!" 

But her pleas fall on deaf ears. I raise the belt high above my head and bring it down with a resounding CRACK across her bare cheeks. Mandy yelps in pain, her whole body lifting off my lap. But I don't give her time to recover - I land another stroke, and another, raining down a decent strapping on her tender bum. 

When I finally finish, Mandy lies limp and contrite across my lap, her breathing ragged and uneven. I run my fingers gently over her crimson skin, tracing the raised lines of each welt. She moans at my touch, making no attempt to escape. 

"There now," I coo softly, stroking her hair with my other hand. "All done. Wasn't that exactly what you needed? Don't you feel better now that you've been punished like the naughty little girl you are?"

Mandy sniffles miserably, but nods her head in reluctant agreement. And as I help her to her feet and lead her to the corner for some quiet reflection, I can't help but marvel at the incredible clandestine relationship we've developed together. 

After twenty minutes in timeout, Mandy kneels before me, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "But, Mistress," she protests weakly, "I'm straight. I can't...I mean, I've never..." 

I silenced her by reaching for the belt once more, wielding it inches from her face. She flinches away, covering her blazing bum cheeks with her hands. "Now get that pretty little mouth of yours over here and start licking. Or would you prefer another trip over my knee?" 

With a resigned sigh, she crawls forward on her hands and knees, positioning herself between my spread thighs. I watch with amusement as she tentatively extends her tongue, giving my clit a quick, experimental lick. She pulls back immediately, wrinkling her nose in surprise. "It tastes like gummy bears," she giggles. 

I guide her head back towards my waiting pussy, pressing her face firmly against my wet folds. Slowly, awkwardly, she begins to lap at my clit, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. I can tell she has no idea what she's doing, but that only adds to my enjoyment. 

After several minutes of Mandy's inexpert ministrations, I feel my orgasm building deep within my core. My hips buck involuntarily, grinding my pussy against her face. "That's it," I gasp, my voice ragged with desire. "Just like that. Don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop!" 

Mandy redoubles her efforts, her tongue flickering rapidly over my swollen clit. The sensation is almost too much to bear, and I throw my head back, crying out in ecstasy as I come hard against her mouth. My juices flood her lips, coating her chin and cheeks with the evidence of my pleasure. 

As the waves of my climax gradually subside, I release my grip on Mandy's hair, allowing her to sit back on her heels. She looks up at me, her face glistening with my arousal, her eyes filled with a mixture of amazement and shame. 

"Did I do okay, Mistress?" she asks timidly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

I smile down at her indulgently, reaching out to cup her chin. "You did just fine, sweetheart," I purr. "In fact, I think you deserve a reward. How about we go upstairs and I show you what happens to naughty little girls who please their mistress?" 

I lead Mandy into the bedroom, still wearing her ridiculous schoolgirl outfit and nursing a sore bum. She follows me meekly, her head bowed and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I can sense her nervousness, her apprehension about what's to come. But I also detect a hint of curiosity, a spark of hidden desire lurking beneath the surface. 

Once inside the room, I close the door behind us, for dramatic effect. We kiss on the lips for the first time, my fingers tangling in her silly pigtails. "Such a good girl," I murmur, my lips curving into a wicked smile. 

"So obedient, so eager to please. I think you deserve a special treat." 

To be continued...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo