Handymen (plural) - A Miss Julie Story

Over at Miss Julie's blog, Goddess extraordinaire and blogger royalty, it appears as though she has had a few naughty fantasies swirling around in her little head.

Some cute ditzy'ness has been worked in there too. The trad housewife, all by her lonesome, the damsel in distress who is about as innocent as Medusa herself. 

"Oh gosh Mister, my tit slipped out *girly giggle* - oopsie". 

It started with her actually messing up at home, forgetting about an A/C repair appointment and caused a pair of repair-men to reschedule. 

She messed up and she's going to be punished! 

IRL, she was then spanked by her husband and sent to the timeout corner with her nose to the wall and red bum on display for half an hour. Domestic discipline is so awesome! (safe, sane, and consensual awesome that is)

She got a spanking plus corerntime

Then, just to humiliate herself even further, which makes her pussy wet, when the A/C guys returned she dropped a little revelation that she was spanked for causing them to miss their first appointment. Also awesome and brave. Well done Jules!

The A/C guys return

And NOW...our slutty little housewife has sexualized the whole experience and wishes it was the repair man or MEN...who spanked her, made her suck their dicks then provided her with a good rogering! Ass, pussy, mouth...maybe two of those at the same time, who knows.     

*Phew! What a good sport she is. 

I don't believe she'll actually go through with this, which is sad because it's a decadent fantasy of hers. I thought I would help, and bring her to the place where these sorts of fantasies can come true! 

Nope, it's not Magic Kingdom...

A treat for her, a present. It's the least I can do. 

If I do a decent job with the writing it might even become masturbation fuel for her, which I love to hear. That's the best compliment a purveyor of erotica can hope for. 

One thing that naturally occurs in the Sims game, appliances always fuckin' break. Sink is leaking, there's an electrical fire in the stove. Look at our poor Jules, wondering what to do about the chaos. 

Is that a pipe wrench she's torqueing on? Haha

She's gonna be workin' some pipe alright! Just not that kind. 

Oh look! She can access her phone and hire a repair service! How convenient. 

Don't worry Jules, I'll hook you up. I'll bring your fantasy to life girl ; ) 

I'll just try not to let the repair guy look like Super Mario's goofy brother. 

Stay tuned...

russ

xoxo

Continued in: The A/C Definitely Works

 

Toilet Humiliation and Anal

Continued from: Sarah and Russ return

A post from slave sarah

As I sat naked, gagged and blindfolded in this tiny, locked cell, I caught myself deliberately pulling against the shackles on my wrists and ankles, just to hear the chains jingle and feel the rigid steel.

There was something very alluring to me, about the strict metal bondage and the added weight the shackles provided. Apart from the robust-sized plug up my ass, these were the only sensory stimuli I could feel, in my solitude and captivity. My pussy was shamefully soaked, as Master's words, threats even, that I would soon be fucked in the ass, echoed in my ears.

I had lost track of time but knew that I hadn't been abandoned for all that long, twenty minutes maybe, before I heard footsteps approach. 

The sound of brass clattering against metal shocked me to a hyper-attentive state, as I listened to the heavy cell door unlock with a key. 

My Master had finally arrived for me! To use me for his pleasure and amusement. My headspace was that of an abducted or purchased sex slave, fearful of a beating if I do not do my very best to offer my holes to him. My mind was exactly where I wanted it to be. I was so dreadfully aroused! 

I was roughly manhandled up and onto the cold seat of the toilet and encouraged to pee. I couldn't believe that I actually did, on command! I visualized being led outside, into the yard on a leash and forced to cock a leg and piss. Why was the thought of this so exciting to me? 

My stomach was in knots of embarrassment, as I listened to my urine echo against the water. While I was peeing, my blindfold and gag were removed, my mouth was saturated in drool and his graciously-sized cock was forced into my mouth.

I felt absolutely degraded, dehumanized and humiliated, to be sucking his cock while seated on a prison toilet full of my own urine, but I started to understood his tactic. Who was I kidding, the humiliation was fanning the flames of my deepening arousal. 

Once I had Master super erect and on the brink of cumming, he stood me up and spun me around. A slap to my ass and a gentle push, had me jack-knifed at the waist with my hands resting on the toilet seat. I was bent at the waist and forced to stare at my own golden nectar in the toilet. Master removed my anal plug which must have left my dirty hole a bit gaped for him, as he slid his cock easily into my ass. 

I wanted so badly to touch my pussy. One little tickle of my throbbing clit would have had me cumming instantly. But Master kept one of my arms pinned behind my back and my other was gripping the toilet seat for dear life. I was occasionally thrust up on my tiptoes, and grunted uncontrollably throughout my ass fucking. 

At one point my arms were both pulled behind my back and upward, which forced my head almost into the toilet. It was close enough that I could smell my own piss, as I was still forced to stare at it also. My wrist shackles were connected to some ceiling chains, forcing me into this pose. I think it's called strappado, a stress pose I have seen on porn sites before. I hated it and loved it at the same time. 

A gag was returned to my mouth, a spreader bar added to expose my most intimate parts, and Master's cock never left my asshole until he blasted cum into my bowels. 

Before his gooey seed had the chance to shameful ooze from my anus, he re-seated the anal plug into my stretched hole, to hold all the mess inside me. 

Again I was left, naked and shackled with a squishy, unpleasant feeling up my ass, all while forced to look into and smell a toilet containing my own pee.   

I fucking hated how degraded I felt in this very moment, and fuckin' loved every second of how degrading this experience was.

What a mindfuck huh? I was so conflicted and trapped in this paradox. I didn't know what to do! I did know one thing though...

If I so-much as heard someone's phone vibrate from another room, I would have cum all over my thighs in that very moment!

slave sarah xoxo 

 

Continued in: The Countess of Monte Cristo

 

Sarah and Russell return

Continued from: And the winner is...

A post from slave sarah

It had been quite some time since that first session with Russell, where he whipped me and used all three of my fuck-holes. Even now, as I sit here and type this between my zoom meetings, the memories of that afternoon have my panties soaked. 

The good news is, we have been texting (sexting) ever since, he is training me and developing me into exactly what he wants. I am to be his whore, his personal slut, one step above an inflatable sex doll, and I absolutely love it!

I have never met a man more thorough than Russell, who I now only address as Master or Sir. His attention to detail always keeps me on my toes, both literally and figuratively. I have structure in my life now, rules to follow and severe consequences for misbehaviour. My nails and toes are always done, baby pink, by Master's request. I also find myself wearing hosiery more often, with high heels, and I now favour dresses and skirts to pants. 

He has me on a strict orgasm diet. I am not to masturbate without his permission and can definitely not cum without his permission. This has been frustrating at times, but I'm more or less walking around in a constant state of arousal 24/7...which is exactly how Master wants me, absolutely begging for it. 

Over the past few months, since our first session together, I have learned positioning, expanded my wardrobe and impressed my Master through my own degrading obedience to him. He was ready to see me again and see to me he certainly did! Mistress Andrea is "making" me blog about it, to humiliate and degrade me even further. 

Here goes...

It was a Tuesday morning. Mistress greeted me when I arrived in my cute dress and pantyhose. Master ordered me to arrive this way, feminine and classy, always in heels. 

I had forgotten just how beautiful Mistress was and how well she commanded over me, without ever needing to say a word. She directed me toward that locker room which, through a large window, is visible to her kitchen. She told me to strip fully naked in the locker room, do my hair into a high-pony, then come find her. I was so embarrassed, yet each time she told me what to do my clit jumped and trembled in anticipation of her next command. 

I did as I was told and underwent the walk of shame from the lobby and into the locker room. The last time I was in this house, in the kitchen to be exact, I remember seeing some dreadfully humiliated man in there, dressed like a little girl and sitting on one of the benches. 

Now it was my turn, to maybe feel what that man had felt, a mixture of shame, anticipation and excitement, to be so exposed and publicly humiliated. I knew Mistress had a wife named Summer, who I have not yet met. As I began to strip naked I was praying she wasn't in the kitchen, watching me. It was bad enough to be naked in front of the stunning Mistress Andrea. 

I tiptoed out of the locker room, having seen Mistress in the kitchen through the glass. The tile was cold against my bare feet and was causing my nipples to harden. I padded my way over to Mistress and told her I was ready. I kept my eyes lowered in her presence, as Master had taught me, and only addressed her as Ma'am. 

She looked me up and down quickly, before inviting me to follow her upstairs. Master wanted me accessorized and kneeling for him and I guess Mistress was tasked to assist. 

With a snap and a point to the floor she had me kneeling. I think she was testing how sharp and well-trained I had become. I got into a kneel for her urgently, remembering to keep my eyes down, back arched and tits thrust out. I noticed first, on the coffee table, a collection of chain, heavy metal shackles and padlocks. My butterflies were raging at this point!

Mistress was gentle and remained quiet, as she drew each of my hands into hers, one by one, to apply the metal cuffs and click a padlock shut. My ankles too and finally a collar, all adorned with these stainless cuffs each of which got their own padlock. 

I liked the heavy weight feel of these shackles. It was making me feel more captive and more like a sex slave. 

The silence was broken when she asked me if Master had any preparations before this session that I had to do at home. My face burned with embarrassment, obviously Mistress knew what I was made to do. 

I responded to her with a little hesitation, not enough to get me struck or punished it would seem. 

"Yes Ma'am, I gave myself a soapy enema Ma'am, released it, then took a second clear-water one, as a rinse out." 

Fuck me! I was so humiliated, which only got worse when she suddenly asked me to present my asshole to her. 

I stood with urgency, sharp like a soldier coming to attention. Master and I had practiced and drilled all of this into me, I knew what was expected. I bent at the waist for Mistress and shamefully spread my ass cheeks open to present her my bare asshole. 

"Very smooth and pretty young lady, such a healthy and pink little pucker." Mistress then said. 

I died a little bit inside, it was so humiliating to hear her speak like this, so matter-of-factly about my butt hole! Sure enough my cunt was soaked, I couldn't help it. I hoped she didn't see. I held my spread position for her as she slathered a healthy amount of lubricant onto my asshole. I clenched from the cold sensation but Mistress told me to relax. She told me that Master wanted me plugged. 

Once was anus was stretched and full, I was snapped back to the floor with a point, once again into a kneel. Mistress told me to wait for Master then she clicked out of the room. I was alone with my thoughts. 

When Master eventually arrived I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. He wasn't holding a whip or his belt, no toys or crops. I didn't know what to expect from this session but my pussy was burning with a deep ache.  

He attached a chain to my collar ring and simply told me to follow him. I was taken down to the basement to an area of the house I had never seen before. Some parts were dark, there was a slight dampness in the air but it was at least warm, even with my nakedness. 

He led me by the chain leash to a far corner of a stone-walled room, where I could see a cell. He produced a large key to unlock the heavy metal door, then told me to get inside. I whimpered in defeat but didn't protest. I tiptoed into this small space obediently.

I think it was like a shitty old linoleum floor. Whatever it was it was cold against my bum and when Master put me into a sit, the anal plug pressed deeper into my asshole. I couldn’t stop myself from groaning like a whore when I felt that plug violate my ass.

My shackles were all connected and locked together and I was put into a heavy duty, strict harness gag with a leather blindfold. The cell door creaked shut and I jumped when the lock ratted into place. 

"When I feel like fucking you in the ass, I'll be back..."

This was the last thing he said to me, before I was left alone in that three by three cell. Unable to see, drooling from my gag and clenching the anal plug with my pucker. 

And what was occupying my mind, in my captive solitude, was the hope that I'd soon be fucked in the ass. I may not look it, from the image above, but I was so freakin' excited!

slave sarah 

xo

Continued in: Toilet Sex

 

Objectification

Continued from: Sarah's First Post

A post from Sarah

Almost 24-hours had passed, since I found myself bare naked in the palour of Mistress Andrea's Facility. I was being told to kneel, being told to keep my eyes down and how to position my arms. 

These were not requests, these were orders. I absolutely loved the simplicity of being told what to do. To not think, just obey.  

My clit jumped with each click of her high heels off the hardwood. Like a metronome of steady and commanding footsteps, when she approached and left me.

Since the first time I met her and she conducted her little "experiment", I cannot deny the fact that she tore a hole in the fabric of my identity. Despite her sexuality and her obvious gorgeousness, I'm just not attracted to women in that way. That is, until she started ordering me around, humiliating and degrading me...threatening to punish me. It has awoken something inside of me that I didn't know existed. 

My throbbing cunt is betraying me even now, as I sit here to type on Mistress' blog.

Carved from a corner of my bedroom, is my little WFH office. Between zoom calls, I've been trying to recount the events of yesterday afternoon, the first moment I had the privilege of calling Russell, 'Sir'.

It began with a different set of footsteps behind me. I knew it wasn't Mistress in her heels. I could also hear the distinct jingle of ice cubes in glass. 

Oh gawd! Oh I was so embarrassed and my god was he ever fucking hot! He sat and didn't acknowledge me, but glared toward my knelt state.

I was under instructions to keep my eyes lowered, which I did, but once Russell sat, I could see most of him. I didn't think it was possible to feel more naked, than fully naked, but I did. Being naked in a room with someone who is fully clothed is deathly vulnerable. My pussy betrayed me yet again, and started to slick my inner thighs. 

He smiled at me once, maybe to reassure me, before picking up his drink and taking a sip. He cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. 

"This is what you want?" He said, all raspy and sexy-like. His words were chosen carefully. It was almost a question, but had the tone of a statement. It was a masterful choice of words. It limited my control and decision making, although I did answer him. 

"Yes please, Sir," I squeaked out, without hesitating. 

I trembled when he came to help me up, using a firm grip on my wrist. I was taken to the corner of the room, to the padded apparatus affixed to the wall. He cinched-down the binds on my wrists until I was forced onto my toes, then he cuffed my ankles in place. 

Kneeling in a room, anticipating what's to come, provides a great deal of time to scan and interpret visual stimulus. It was not lost on me that Mistress positioned my body facing the coffee table. It was not lost on me that the blinds to this room were left open and a-top the coffee table, were two clothespins and a flogger. 

And now, I was at my most vulnerable of the session, bound, exposed and naked, in the presence of this intimidatingly, gorgeous man. 

He knelt down as he approached me, running a finger along the tops of my feet and toes, finally onto my toenails. 

"Keep these painted for me, baby pink," was all he said. 

I replied with a, "yes Sir." I was dreadfully embarrassed that my toenails were not done for him.

He ran a muscular hand up my leg and thigh and onto my pussy which he grabbed in a fist motion. I gasped out loud as he did. 

"Keep this shaved bald for me, slut." He hissed. "Your asshole too, hairless."

I groaned out loud in pure, desperate arousal. It was involuntary. I was such a whore to have groaned like that. But fuck me! He was inspecting me! Claiming me! Like my Master had just purchased me at some seedy auction. 

He continued his horrible and beautiful objectification, cupping my tits in his palms for a light bounce. Then his fingertips reached for both of my nipples. It was more of a swirl than a pinch. 

"These need to be a little more responsive." He said out loud. 

Not knowing what to do, or if this was a moment I should speak, I blurted out a, "I'm sorry Sir, I'll do better for you." 

He returned to the couch to sit, sipping from his drink once more. 

He cradled the cold, wet glass in his hands long enough to achieve his objective. He walked back to me and held my nipples with his freezing cold fingertips. They hardened instantly, and goosebumps fluttered across my body. 

"That's better." He commented, in a cavalier tone, before retrieving both clothespins and affixing them to my erect nipples. There was the sharp pain I was wanting, or at least my cunt was wanting. Now we were getting somewhere. 

Master picked up the flogger next, and proceeded to whip my stomach, ribs and tits with the vicious strands of leather. He whipped my tits and nipples until the clothespins came flying off from the impact, causing me to shriek in pain.

"You may scream. There is no shame in it." He calmly counselled, as I struggled to catch my breath through my whimpers. 

Master undid my bondage next, catching me as I was about to collapse down onto the floor. I guess being on my toes for so long had my legs shaky and spent. But on my knees in a puddle of my own degradation, was exactly where he wanted me.  

He controlled my wrists, and he was no longer in his pants, as he dragged me to the middle of the room. 

Nothing was said. He just mashed his erect penis against my lips, until I opened and took him into my mouth. Master has a lovely sized cock. I wasn't sucking it...he was fucking my face and throat with it. 

 

There was lots of beautiful gagging and gucking sounds, which only degraded me further. 

I tried to use my hands at one point, on his cock. I was quickly and sharply slapped in the face. Not at all violently, it was corrective. I need correction in this role, I have dreamed of being corrected in this way. 

He simply said, "No!" After the slap. Like he was scolding a dog. I carried on with only my mouth, like the filthy slut that I am, until Master came down my throat and onto my face. 

After this, I was told I was getting another whipping. 100 lashes to be exact, on my bare bum, back and thighs. Master was very specific this time, with what he intended to do. Likely because I was once again bound into a stress pose, to be left and to anticipate this flogging. Only this time, I was wearing his cum on my face, proudly!

slut sarah

xoxo

Continued in: All Three Holes

Sarah's first Post

Continued from: The Journal

A post from Sarah

Hello everyone, I'm Sarah. 

You may remember me from some of Mistress Andrea's recent posts. It was I who came to her, seeking something I have never been able to fully explain, not even to myself. The need to be degraded, sexually used and humiliated at the hands of a man, it is as much a part of me as my eye colour.

Not long after I met with Mistress, things developed quickly for me. Now, I find myself alone in her office, bare naked and gagged. Both of my ankles are chained and padlocked to the legs of her desk, as I furiously copy what is written in my journal, onto her blog. 

She told me I had a penchant for writing and asked that I keep a journal of my experiences at her Facility. I am under instructions to share my experiences with you, Mistress says it will help to humiliate and shame me even further. 

I don't believe her to be wrong, as I sit here typing, with drool escaping from my gag, and my own dripping cunt, dabbing the cool leather of her office chair. 

Mistress coached me to be raw during my writing, unfiltered and to describe not only my experiences, but how they make me feel. I'll apologize in advance, if my words are harsh or descriptions vulgar. This is a BDSM blog after all...

I'll recall back to my first experience at the Facility, to begin with. I wasn't really sure what to expect when I arrived, but knew in advance there would be some manner of reception process. This is spoken about on Mistress' client website. 

Being greeted by a receptionist was not much of a shock to me either, but what was shocking, was how young and beautiful this Cassandra girl was.

She had a bit of a dykey hairstyle, she was sporting a nose ring, but she was one of those young women who is so attractive that she can pull off a short haircut. 

Miss Cassandra said a few things but I was such a ball of nerves that most of it didn't register. Only my primal instincts of obedience remained. I sat when she told me, stood when she told me and refrained from speaking unless spoken to. 

There was another small formality with some paperwork, this occurred in a very childish and vulnerable classroom. I ended up at a little school desk facing a wall and visible from the street through the windows. It wasn't lost on me that around the room and hanging from some of the walls, were wooden paddles, straps and canes. I had a deeply pitted feeling in my stomach, the best and the worst type of butterflies, wresting with each other. It was only going to get more intense for me, as I soon found myself bare naked in front of Mistress, with a sign around my neck that said SLUT. 

It was a dreadfully long ten minutes of silence, facing that mirror with my hands on my head, forced to stare at my own reflection and vulnerability. I wanted to cry, I wanted to groan out loud, like a whore in heat. My emotions were conflicted. 

The most memorable moment of this session however, came when Mistress gently rested her fingers on my embarrassingly soaked cunt. Like checking someone's pulse, the pressure of her fingers was so light, I wondered if she was checking to feel for actual throbbing. 

"It seems your kink, is gender neutral Sarah," is what she said to me. These words didn't cut right through me, but long after I had left her Facility, I was still reflection upon what she said.

I wanted to feel pain, to be bound and captive and used only for my fuckholes, for someone else's amusement. I guess Mistress was right, my arousal doesn't need a specific gender. My very sexual identity had been betrayed by my own greedy cunt!

But she came through with a male for me, and before I knew it, I was clicking in my heels on cobblestone, knees wobbling from nerves, as I walked toward this man seated next to Mistress. 

Once I was introduced to Russell, and he to I, what I noticed first, quite shockingly I might add, was that he didn't seem to take himself too seriously. Odd I thought, for someone professing to be a Dom. 

I think my mind may have been conditioned to porn I've watched, or that dumb Fifty Shades business. Did the character Christian Grey ever smile during any of those movies? To be a Dom, does it mean you have to look and behave with such burning intensity, that women just submit to your demeanour alone?  

In very short order, what I learned about Russ was that he was serious when he wanted to be, funny, a bit quirky and goofy and was always laughing or smiling. Quite the departure from what I would have expected. Also unexpected, he didn't demand to be addressed in some formal BDSM title, in fact he didn't bring up anything kink at all. 

Oh, and one more thing I noticed. Russ is absolutely hot! 

I thought it was peculiar when Mistress abruptly left us, but she explained to me later why she did that. Once Russell and I were alone, vanilla chat continued, but my whorish mind had gone someplace else. 

He produces his cock right in that bistro courtyard. He addresses me as "slut" and tells me to get on my knees, then he grabs the back of my head and forces me down on his cock, causing me to wretch. As I struggle for air my legs were flailing a bit, causing several runs in the knees of my pantyhose. 

As I'm still trying to swallow down his giant load of cum he notices my hose and begins to tear away the rest of my clothing, eventually hauling me over his knee and thrashing my ass with his strong hand. 

I'm taught a long, hard lesson, right in public, to take better care of my hosiery. Then he grabs me by the throat and leads me back over to the table, ripping open the gusset of my pantyhose to expose my sloppy cunt. 

He fucks me right on the spot, still in my heels with wisps of torn nylon hanging from my legs. 

I was listening to him, of course, during our vanilla chatter, but this is everything I was dreaming of him doing to me. 

Could he be this forceful, this harsh with me? His personality didn't seem to fit that mold. For Christ sakes, he kissed my hand like it was 1822, before he left. 

Nevertheless, I wanted to find out. I was ALL in!

I was about to find out, as soon I finish this post actually. I'm not just bare naked and gagged in Mistress' office for humiliation purposes. I am bare naked because that's how 'Master' wanted me today, for our first session. He was set to arrive soon.

My gag was removed and I was gently led upstairs by Mistress, who took my sweaty and clammy hand into hers. 

"He wants you kneeling upright, right here Sarah," she said as she pointed to a spot on the floor.

"Hands at your sides, eyes down and only address him as Sir," she finished with, before leaving me alone in that room.  

Holy fuck! My heart was pounding. 

slave sarah

xoxo

Continued in: Objectification