The Mad Scientist

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Any Given Sunday

Continued from: Almost Out of Time

[FLR] [HoH] [spanking] [F/ffm] [M/ff] [corner time]

One evening, not too long after New Years, I found young Skylar in the vanilla wing of the house, furiously typing away on her computer with that glazed-over, genius look in her eyes. "Skylar, honey?" I gently tapped at her door that was ajar, "may I come in?" 

We chatted for a bit, just a check-up really, to see how she is acclimating to the new environment and her new role at the Facility. She told me about her session with her old friend, Eesha, and how it was more of a fascinating science experiment for her than a kink. 

When I asked Skylar what she was so engrossed in on her computer, she simply replied that she was now enrolled in a Master's degree program - human psychology and sports psychology. I just shook my head in awe, as usual. I guess the doctorate she achieved already wasn't quite enough to fill up that beautiful mind of hers, she needed to cram some more knowledge in there. 

I kissed her on the tip of her nose, causing her to crinkle it and giggle. I told her that I was happy to have her with us, at the Facility, before turning to check my watch - I had set a family meeting down in the living room for tonight, so after another peck to Skylar's forehead, I left her to her studies and made my way downstairs.

The girls were already in their nighttime jammies, looking adorable as always, with their little elasticized cuffs and bare feet. 

Across from them on the other couch, Russell was working on his laptop, looking a wee bit frustrated. "What's the matter, Daddy?" I cooed to him as I embraced him from behind, looking over his shoulder at the screen. 

"What did you DO?!" I cried out in laughter, taking in the sight of a grotesque A.I. fail, of none other than me! Russell helps me with the A.I. artwork sometimes, he's better at it than I am, but in this case, something went wrong, look: 

"Well, I still look cute," I said to him, "can you crop out the extra body parts, and my feet?" 

"Much better, Daddy,” I patted him on the lap and turned my attention to Sarah Jane and Summer who were playing on their phones like a pair of teenagers. "Devices away girls," I commanded. "It's time for our family meeting." 

With four adults now living under one roof, it was more important than ever that we establish clear boundaries and expectations, that we maintain the delicate balance of power and authority that has served us so well in the past. This was the premise behind tonight’s meeting. 

"Girls," I said, my voice firm but gentle, "Daddy and I have something important to discuss with you." I pause, allowing the gravity of my words to sink in, before continuing. "As you know, this household operates on a very specific set of rules and guidelines, designed to ensure the happiness and wellbeing of all its members. And while we have perhaps been a bit lax in enforcing some of these rules in recent months, your Daddy and I have decided that it is time to reinstate one of our most important rituals: the weekly maintenance spanking." 

I saw a flicker of surprise cross Summer's face, quickly followed by a look of sheepish resignation. Beside her, Sarah Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting nervously between me and Russell. 

"Now, as adult women, I know that neither of you are particularly fond of this aspect of our dynamic," I acknowledged, my tone softening slightly. "But the fact remains that it is an essential component of our lifestyle, one that helps to keep you both grounded and accountable. Your Daddy and I only want what is best for you two, even if it means some weekly tough love." 

I reached out, taking each of their hands in mine, squeezing gently in a gesture of reassurance. "We will begin tomorrow night, after Sunday dinner. And from here on out, every Sunday after that, you shall be informed where to report for your weekly dose of discipline. Understood?"

There was a moment of silence as the girls digested the news, their expressions ranging from resigned acceptance to obvious humiliation. But ultimately, they both nodded their agreement, their voices murmuring out a soft, "Yes, Mommy." 

As the girls filed out of the room, their heads bowed in thoughtful contemplation, I turned my attention to Russell. "Honey," I softly took his hand into mine, "there's one more thing. I would like for you to participate on Sunday's too. Sometimes, you may be asked to spank one or both of the girls yourself, or we’ll each take a girl to a separate room." 

"Before and after each spanking," I continue, "the girls will be required to spend some time in the corner, reflecting on their behaviours of the week. During this time, I would like for them to be in the living room, together, facing opposing walls with their bums bare. This will give them the space they need to process their emotions, while allowing you and I to keep an eye on them."

"The important thing about these maintenance sessions though, is that each spanking be a one-on-one affair, a private moment between you or I and the girl in question. This allows for a level of intimacy and vulnerability that simply cannot be achieved in a group setting. I'll afford Sarah the same privacy, if I happen to be administering her maintenance."

Russell nodded in understanding, but before he could speak, I hit him with a little surprise that I don't think he was expecting, given his current role in our dynamic. 

"When it comes to your own maintenance, young man, I think it's best if we keep things private. The girls don't need to hear their Daddy getting his bare bottom thrashed over my knee, now do they?" 

"That's why Monday evenings will be perfect for you, let me tell you why..."

To be continued...

Thank you again to all of my loyal fans, new and old. Things got and are about to get a little busy IRL. I'll try to post when I can. 

Let me see if I can get a video to work here, stand by...

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: The Mad Scientist

 

Floating on a Cloud

Continued from: I Don't Want This!

[F/f] [F/m] [M/f] [lezdom] [HoH] [FLR] [chastity] [spanking] [tease denial] [DDLG] [age regression] [MDLG] [Daddy] [Mommy]

A Sarah Jane story

It was a frigid Tuesday morning when I tiptoed into our bedroom at Mistress Andrea's Facility, my blonde pigtails bouncing with each step. I was carrying a tray with a steaming cup of coffee and some fruit. It would be a lovely surprise for my sleepy Daddy, who was still snuggled under the covers. 

I couldn't resist giving him a gentle wake-up call, singing out in my sweetest tone, "good morning, Daddy! Rise and shine!" 

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, I set the tray down beside him and leaned in for a gentle peck on the lips. My bright blue jammies, adorned with fluffy white clouds, seemed to match the cheerful atmosphere I was floating on. Little did I know, this innocent start to the day would unfold into something far more scandalous... 

Daddy sat up on the bed as I playfully flopped down into his warm spot, a sly grin spreading across my face. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble we might get up to today. Summer was away at work, that Skylar girl had gone home to study for something, and Mistress was downstairs in the kitchen. All alone...with "Mommy" and "Daddy" all to myself? I thought. 

As Daddy reached for the coffee I playfully swatted his hand away, teasing him with a giggle. "Oh, no you don't, Daddy! Not until you've given me a proper morning kiss!" 

Mmm, those special Daddy kisses! He had me out of my jammy bottoms in no time, as I removed my top, leaving me in my sockies only, as his lips travelled the length of my bare bum. My heart skipped a delightful beat as he reached to part my ass cheeks, his gentle kisses transforming into deep licks. I let out a contented sigh, my back arching deeper as his tongue penetrated my little pucker. 

Each kiss, each lick, was a masterful blend of adoration and desire, rendering me helpless against the tide of arousal rising within me. I began to slowly masturbate, swirling two of my fingers over my clit as I could feel my ass peeking open, now being fucked by Daddy's tongue. 

As the pressure built, I barely got my ask out in a shriek of desperation, "may I cum please, Daddy?!" Right before the dam broke, as I was given his permission at the last second, I violently orgasmed onto my fingers. My body trembled, my heart raced, and I let out a series of sweet, surrendering squeaks as the waves of orgasm crashed through me. I wanted to be fucked so badly in that very moment!

Alas, as delightful as this morning interlude was, I knew it was only a taste of the forbidden fruit - for, as we all know, Mommy's wise rules dictate that Daddy's cock remains safely secured within its chastity prison. 

I cleaned myself off my fingers, as I am required to do post-orgasm, then finally emerged from our cozy little cocoon as Daddy headed for the shower. I chose an outfit that was playful and darling, a pink dress covered in sprightly florals. To complete the look, I added a pair of crisp white knee socks and Mary Janes. As I twirled in the mirror, my pigtails bouncing with each rotation, I couldn't help but giggle at the sheer absurdity of it all. What other forty-something year-old woman gets to spend their morning like this, receiving special Daddy kisses, dressing like a little girl? *giggle*

I made my way to the living room, where Mommy was, her warm smile greeted me, and I hastened to give her a tender kiss on the lips. "Good morning, Mommy!" I chimed, scanning her features to see if she could taste me on her lips. She smiled indulgently, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she no doubt just heard me cumming, from upstairs. 

"Good morning, little one," she replied, while sliding her tongue over her lips that I just kissed. "Would you be a dear and unload and load the dishwasher for me?" she asked, her tone soft and gentle. 

"Yes, Mommy," I nodded, my eyes downcast in submission.

I wasn't exactly thrilled about being tasked with domestic chores. But, alas, as a dutiful little slave to both Mommy and Daddy, I knew better than to express any dissent. After all, I'd learned the hard way that disobedience would earn me a stern reprimand and a sound spanking over Mommy's knee - or worse, across Daddy's knee. 

Ugh, just the thought of it made my tummy swirl with bittersweet butterflies! I recalled the last time I'd earned a spanking, my tears and sniffles mingling with the scent of Mommy's perfume, as she scolded Summer and I for our misbehaviour and silliness. The sting of her hairbrush on my tender bottom still lingered in my memory, a potent reminder to behave myself and follow orders in this new dynamic. 

With a heavy sigh, I finished the dishes, scrubbing away the last remnants of last night's dinner from the plates. I dried my hands on a nearby towel and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable reporting of my task completion to Mommy. 

I made my way back to the living room, where Mommy sat serenely, her piercing blue eyes watching me with an unnerving intensity. 

I dropped to my hands and knees before her, my heart racing with a mix of trepidation and devotion. I lowered my body to kiss each of her sleek high heels, my lips making contact with the patent leather. "All done, Mommy," I reported, looking up at her with what I hoped was an endearing expression. 

A warm smile spread across her face, and she extended a manicured hand, beckoning me to rise. I took her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity run through me as she led me toward her private office. What secrets did she have in store for me, in that strict and private space? Would it be a lesson in obedience, or perhaps a reward for my diligent efforts?

My heart skipped a beat as Mommy produced a glinting key from the cleavage of her breasts, the tiny metal shape dangling precariously from a necklace. She strode purposefully to the imposing safe in the corner of the room, unlocking it and opening it with a clank.

I watched transfixed, as she rummaged inside, finally emerging with a delicate golden key duo. These were no ordinary keys though - these were the coveted keys to Daddy's chastity cage! My pulse quickened as Mommy approached me, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for doing the dishes, little one," she cooed, depositing the keys into my waiting palm. "Here's your allowance." 

The cool metal seemed to thrum with possibilities as I wrapped my fingers around them, my mind racing with all the wicked delights I could orchestrate with this newfound power. 

"You have 45 minutes with the keys, huni, to do as you wish," Mommy announced, her voice low and sultry. Oh, the things I could accomplish in three-quarters of an hour! I could hardly contain my squeals of glee as I envisioned the tantalizing scenarios unfolding in my mind. 

Would I tease him mercilessly, or grant him release from his cage? One thing was certain: the next 45 minutes would be a whirlwind of delicious debauchery, with yours truly holding the reins, or so I thought. 

As I skipped into the bathroom, a vision of sugar and spice, I caught sight of Daddy emerging from the shower, droplets of water clinging to his powerful physique like diamonds. 

My breath did an intake, snagged by the glinting gold chastity cage encasing his penis, a constant reminder of Mommy's ultimate authority in this place. 

A saucy grin spread across my lips as I held out the precious keys, taunting him with the promise of release. 

"Oh, Daddy!" I teased, my voice a honeyed purr, "Mommy gave me my allowance for the week!" 

I turned seductively, the rustle of my dress a mere accompaniment to the main event. Reaching beneath the hem, I pulled my panties down. His strong hands wasted no time, grasping my ass cheeks with firm intent, massaging and slapping at them with possessive fervor. 

I felt his meaty hands spreading my bum cheeks, exposing my perfectly pink little princess parts. Leaning back slightly, I cooed up at him, my tone husky with invitation. "Is this what you want, Daddy?" 

The words hung in the air like a promise, a dare, and a surrender...all at once. Yet, I was still holding the reins, for now.  

Sarah Jane 💗

Almost out of Time

Pasteurized

Continued from: Cornertime Revelation

[F/f] [whipping] [lezdom] [public humiliation] [submission] [sex slavery] [CNC] [babygirl]

Written by Skylar St. Germaine

I watched her walk away, noting the subtle sway of her hips beneath the clinging fabric of her nearly sheer, white dress. She disappeared into the restroom, to do my bidding and sneak her panties off from under her dress. 

I pulled out my notebook and began jotting down my observations. 

Subject exhibits signs of anxiety and embarrassment when given a public task, but ultimately complies with minimal resistance. 

Willingness to obey suggests a strong submissive streak...

I paused, tapping my pen thoughtfully against the page as I considered the psychological implications of her actions. Was her obedience driven purely by fear of consequences, or was there a deeper, more primal need at play?

I made another note, just then, Eesha emerged from the restroom, her face flushed and her steps hesitant as she approached the table. Without a word, she slipped something small and silky into my hand before resuming her seat, her eyes fixed firmly on the table top. 

I glanced down at the offering in my palm - a pair of white lacy panties, still warm from her body. As I inspected the inner gusset of Eesha's panties, I noted with fascination how incredibly wet they were. The damp patch spread across the delicate crotch, evidence of her arousal at the mere thought of the dynamic we once had, the gentle taps I just gave her on the bum as we first greeted. 

I raised an eyebrow at her, my expression a mix of playfulness and judgement. "Well, well, well," I murmured, my voice laced with false disapproval. "It seems we're right back where we left off, E, all those years ago." Eesha squirmed in her seat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. I could see the conflict playing out across her features as she squeaked out a desperate plea. 

"P-Please, Sky...not here...not like this."

Just then, a handsome young waiter arrived and set down a glass of milk, directly in front of Eesha. I watched her expression closely, eager to observe her reaction to the little surprise I had arranged for her. Her eyes widened in shock and embarrassment as she spotted the tall glass for the first time, carefully placed by the waiter amidst elegant wine glasses adorning the rest of the table. 

She just gave me a look of terror and desperation, remembering how I used to treat her in public, back when we were in university. How she wished to be treated, rather, when we fully embraced our D/s dynamic, well beyond just spankings. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she tried to process this unexpected twist, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson. 

"I hope you don't mind, E," I said sweetly, gesturing to the offending beverage. "I thought you might enjoy something a bit more...age appropriate." Eesha's mouth opened and closed several times, as if she were struggling to find the right words to respond. I could tell that she was torn between her desire to assert her independence and her deeply ingrained need to submit. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Eesha finally managed to stammer out a reply. "Um...thank you, Sky," she muttered, her gaze downcast and submissive. "That's very thoughtful of you." I smiled indulgently, reaching across the table to pat her hand reassuringly. "Of course, honey. I only want what's best for you." 

I could sense her growing unease and involuntary arousal, her body language betraying her inner turmoil. It was clear that she was acutely aware of the other diners' curious glances, their whispered conversations undoubtedly centered around the grown woman in a gown, being treated like a child. I found the entire situation utterly captivating, my mind racing with theories and hypotheses about the psychological impact of public humiliation. 

Determined to push Eesha's boundaries even further, I picked up the glass of milk and held it out to her expectantly. "Drink up, sweetheart," I cooed, my voice dripping with condescension. "We wouldn't want it to go to waste, now would we?" 

Eesha hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting nervously around the room as her analytical brain  weighed her options. Finally, with a resigned sigh, she took the glass from my hand and brought it to her lips. 

When she finished her substantial gulp, she set the glass back down on the table, her eyes downcast and her cheeks burning with shame. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the thin white moustache clinging to her upper lip, a tangible reminder of her submission. 

Leaning forward, I gently wiped away the residue with my thumb, my touch lingering on her perfect lips. "There's my baby girl," I cooed, my voice low and sultry. 

No, I haven't seen the movie yet, but I saw the trailer with the milk scene. Summer and I are planning on watching it at home together. Or I'll be watching it at least, she might be on her knees, between my legs for most of it, if it's hitting all the right marks for me.  

I would naturally assume that if you're in the testing stages of a D/s dynamic, or in the case of Sky and Eesha, a re-kindling phase, you might pull a stunt like this, in public, to gauge a person's reaction to public humiliation. 

A key worn around the neck or on an anklet of a female, having dinner with a lone male. A wife taking her husband to a pretty check-out girl at a lingerie store, to help pick out panties. (That's a Miss Julie signature move). Or a subtle choker worn in public with a single, silver O-ring. 

I can only imagine the milk scene here, is a play on the thrill and arousal of public humiliation. 

The compounding humiliations of the evening fueled her arousal, which in turn, heightened her need for discipline, creating a vicious cycle from which there was no escape. A slave to her own pussy, and her own pussy making her into a slave.

Hands and knees, right in the restaurant when her meal arrives, placing it on the floor in front of her? No...I didn't go that far, but we did book a more private session and decided on an upcoming date.  

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

Several days later, as I stepped into the bright, empty bedroom, my eyes fell upon Eesha's naked form. She was kneeling, her nose pressed to the wall and her hands clasped atop her head, just as I had ordered her to wait for me. 

The sight of her vulnerable, exposed body sent a thrill of excitement coursing through me, and I took a moment to drink in the scene, before making my presence known. I was dressed in my finest dominatrix attire - a black chest harness bra, sheer stockings hugging my legs, and towering stiletto boots that clicked menacingly against the floor with each step. 

My long blonde hair was styled and down, and my makeup was flawless, accentuating my sharp cheekbones and piercing hazel eyes. As I approached Eesha, she turned her head slightly, her gaze meeting mine with a mix of fear and anticipation. 

I frowned sternly, my voice cutting through the silence like a whip. "Did I give you permission to move?" I demanded, my tone laced with disapproval. Eesha quickly returned her nose to the wall, her body tensing as she awaited correction. I circled around her, my boots echoing ominously as I inspected her from every angle. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her bum more full and curvaceous than I remembered. I ran my nails along her spine, feeling her shudder beneath my touch as she whimpered out a "nooo, Ma'am...p-please don't."

"You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you?" I hissed, my hot breath against her ear. Eesha nodded silently, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to control her breathing. I smiled in satisfaction, knowing that she was safe, that she was playing her consensual-non-consent (CNC) role quite well. Something she confessed to me back in school, when our regular spanking sessions evolved into more intense, impact play. 

Without warning, I delivered a sharp smack to her bare bum, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot. Eesha yelped in surprise, her body jerking forward reflexively. I grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her from the wall to face me as I jerked her head backwards. "That's for disobeying me," I growled, my lips brushing against her ear. 

 I could see the conflict playing out across her features - the shame of her nudity warring with the desperate need for submission. Reaching into my bag, I retrieved a pair of black strappy stilettos and tossed them carelessly onto the floor beside her. 

"Put those on," I commanded, my voice firm and authoritative. "They're the only thing you'll be wearing tonight, E." 

With Eesha now standing before me, naked save for the towering black stilettos that adorned her feet, I was ready to put my latest experiment to the test. What I had noticed since starting with The Facility, was that most sexual activity and BDSM scenes were done in specialty rooms or bedrooms, or in basement dungeons, hidden away and kept in secret. I believed that there was untapped potential in exploring these dynamics in more unconventional, vanilla settings - places where a collision between depravity and domesticity would create an added psychological effect. 

And what better place to start the heart of the home itself? The kitchen.

Eesha's body quivered with anticipation as I guided her towards the bondage vaulted horse that I had strategically placed in the center of the room, glittering with D-ring metal plates and brass padlocks. The absurdness of the scene - a piece of bondage furniture nestled amidst the gleaming appliances and polished surfaces of a modern kitchen - only added to the sense of vulnerability and heightened arousal for her. 

"Bend over it," I commanded, my voice low and seductive. "Ass in the air, hands behind your back. It's time for your whipping, my sweetheart." 

Eesha hesitated for a moment, her nervous gaze flickering between the vaulting horse and the riding crop that lay beside it. But ultimately, she complied, draping her naked body over the padded surface and presenting her vulnerable bare bottom. 

Obediently and without prompting, Eesha's slowly spread her legs for me, teetering on her high heels and coming up onto tip-toe. Her soft cries filled the air, pleading with me not to proceed. 

"Please don't do this, Skylar. I don't want to be whipped. I haven't misbehaved, I promise," she whimpered, her voice cracking with emotion. 

Despite her protests, I noticed the unmistakable evidence of her arousal - spider-silk strands of pre-cum soaking her thighs and cascading between them in a glistening web. The sight sent a surge of excitement through me, my own body responding viscerally to the visual confirmation that I was playing my role well. 

I reached out and collected some of the sticky fluid with my fingers, marveling at its silken texture and the way it clung to my skin. Without hesitation, I rubbed the mess onto Eesha's lips and face, smearing it across her tear-streaked cheeks and forcing her to taste her own arousal. 

"You're sure you don't want this huh?" I questioned, my voice laced with a mocking edge. "You know you have a safeword to stop it all." 

I could see her shoulders sinking into the padded horse - the war between her rational mind, which insisted that she didn't want this, and her primal instincts, which craved the intensity and release that only submission could provide. 

The time for talk was over - I had my baby girl right where I wanted her. 

Sky

Continued in: I Don't Want This!