The Season for Giving

Continued from: National Treasure

As the holidays approached, our household bustled with preparations, the air thick with the scent of pine, fireplace and hot, dirty F/ff, F/m. F/ffm, FM/ff sex...ha!

I'm a giver...I'm a giver, during the holidays, everyone. Look at all those capital F's of me giving!

Amidst the chaos, I received a call from Mandy, one of my favourite clients. All of you remember Mandy? The nurse, the soccer mom, juggling the demands of her career and family with admirable grace, all while mixing in the odd bake sale.    

Is that in a church?? Is that top you're wearing, church appropriate? 

And those jeans, Mandy! Tsk tsk. Sweet baby Jesus in his manger...Those jeans are about to win the internet, once I post this. 

Anyway, the phone rings as Russell, Sarah Jane, Summer and I navigated the holiday season. Cassandra decided to spend Christmas with her recently reunited family, I wonder where that sudden motivation came from? See, giving yet again. 

*Ring *ring

"Mistress Andrea, it's Mandy," she breathed into the phone, her voice whispering as if she was not in a place of privacy. "I know it's last minute, but I desperately need a session before the holidays swallow me whole. Please, can you fit me in?" 

I smiled, my heart going out to this hardworking woman who craved the release and escape that only my unique services could provide. 

"Of course, my sweetheart," I assured her. "Come on over, I'll make sure you leave feeling refreshed and ready to tackle whatever the holidays throws your way." 

A few hours later, Mandy arrived on my doorstep, still clad in her hospital scrubs, her hair pulled back into a messy pony. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and her shoulders sagged with fatigue. 

"Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice, Ma'am," she said gratefully as I ushered her inside. enveloping her in a warm hug. "You have no idea how much I need this right now." 

I led her to the living room to do a quick consultation and see what's been causing her the most stress. As I listened to Mandy pour out her heart, I could see the toll that her demanding life was taking on her. And to top it all off, she had a few shifts at the hospital during the holidays. 

"My poor girl," I murmured sympathetically. "You've been carrying such a heavy burden. But you're safe here with me, let me lift that weight for you and help you to find the release and escape you so desperately need." 

"Tell me, sweetie, what kind of session are you looking for today? What would bring you the greatest satisfaction and fulfillment?" Mandy hesitated, her cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink as she lowered her gaze demurely. "I want...I need," she stammered, now only whispering in shame. "Something rough, Mistress. Something intense and overwhelming. Captivity, CNC...cages...sex slavery..." Her words trailed off, but the hunger and longing in her eyes spoke volumes.  

"Ok," I replied eagerly, "so down in the basement then?"

I smiled a wicked smile, and before sending Mandy off to prepare, I paused, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Wait just a moment, my dear," I said, holding up a finger as I retrieved a medium-sized present from beneath the festively decorated Christmas tree. 

"This is for you," I announced, pressing the beautifully wrapped package into her hands. "A small token of my appreciation for what you do, both in the ER and as my loyal client." Mandy's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth falling open as she carefully unwrapped the gift, her fingers trembling with anticipation. 

As she lifted the lid of the box, she let out a soft gasp, her breath catching in her throat. Emblazoned in gold lettering, upon the delicate tissue paper within the box, read: Christian Louboutin. 

The sleek, black patent leather gleamed in the soft light, the iconic red soles peeking out proactively. "Oh, Mistress," Mandy breathed, her voice filled with awe and gratitude. Mandy's eyes sparkled with tears of joy as she gazed upon the exquisite shoes, her fingers tracing the smooth leather reverently. I don't imagine the poor thing ever spends a single cent on herself. I wanted to make her Christmas just a little more merry.

"Mistress, I couldn't possibly accept these," she protested weakly, her voice trembling with a dichotomy of emotion. "These are meant for women...like you - powerful, confident, dominant women. I'm just a lowly submissive in this place, unworthy of such a lavish gift." 

"Nonsense, my dear," I replied firmly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Here at the Facility, we believe that every woman deserves to feel like a goddess, regardless of her role or position. Whether you're on your knees, begging for mercy, or strutting around twirling a whip, you have earned the right to wear these magnificent heels. 

Mandy blushed deeply, her cheeks flushing a shade of crimson as she glanced down at her white nursing runners. 

"Now, why don't you strip down right here for me and get these heels on, hands on your head please, and we'll get this session started." 

Once fully naked, Mandy slipped on the luxurious Loubies, her posture transformed, her spine straightening and her chin lifting with newfound confidence. 

I accessed a pair of handcuffs from a nearby drawer and just as I was about to affix them to her wrists, a flicker of concern crossed her features. "Wait, Mistress," she said, turning to face me with a furrowed brow. "I heard that Sarah and Russell are living here now. Is she here?"

I nodded happily, remembering that these two are secret little lezzy playmates, before explaining the entire circumstances surrounding the house fire and Russell's stint in the hospital. Mandy, the little subby doll, obediently kept her hands atop her head and feet together, standing at submissive attention throughout our vanilla conversation. 

Eventually, I asked her to extend her wrists for me while I accessed the handcuffs once more, chattering them into an open position. 

"Actually, Mistress," she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was wondering...that is, if it wouldn't be too much trouble..." She trailed off, biting her lower lip anxiously as she struggled to find the right words. 

"What it is, sweetheart?" I prompted gently. 

Mandy swallowed hard, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor as her hands returned to the top of her head. "Well, I was hoping that perhaps...maybe...Sarah could run my session today," she blurted out, her words tumbling over themselves in her haste of excitement and arousal. 

I giggled and nodded approvingly, then gave her juicy bare bum a nice encouraging slap, ushering her off to go shower and prepare for her session. Sarah was upstairs folding my laundry, I sent her a text, lazily, rather than walking up the actual stairs. 

"You wanted to see me, Mommy?" she asked, taking my hands into hers and kissing the tops of them respectfully. 

"Indeed, my dear," I replied, my voice low and sultry. "Christmas has come early for you it would seem. Mandy is here. She asked for you!"

I slowly and deliberately explained the kind of session that Mandy had asked for, allowing Sarah Jane to paint a vivid picture in her mind, of riding crops, of clothespins, I could see her mouth practically watering as I spoke. 

"Like down in the sex dungeon, Mommy? I'll get to dress like a big girl?" she asked excitedly, her eyes wide with lustful anticipation. 

I smiled and nodded my head in the affirmative. "Yes, my little one," I confirmed. 

"Oh, Mommy, thank you!" She gushed, throwing her arms around my neck in a spontaneous embrace. "I won't let you down, I promise. I'll make Mandy squirm and beg for mercy, just like the naughty little slut she is!" 

I chuckled and returned her hug with equal fervor. "I have no doubt that you will, my sweetie."

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Tiptoes and Tears

Continued from: Oily Hufone Heit

A Sarah Jane story

The new dark room was a den of sin, a place where the most depraved fantasies could be indulged without shame or restraint...or so I thought. I ended up getting a very real spanking from 'Sir'. Let me tell you how things led to that point. 

As Daddy ushered us inside the new space, I could feel my cunt growing wet with anticipation, my body already primed for the filthy acts that were sure to follow. He wasted no time in securing me in place, forcing me down onto my knees and elbows with my ass obscenely thrust into the air. 

The cold leather cuffs bit into my wrists and ankles, holding me immobile as he shoved a thick rubber gag into my mouth, silencing any protests I might have made. Behind me, Mandy let out a muffled whimper as Daddy trussed her up in a brutal strappado position, her arms stretched taut behind her. The position forced her to lean forward, her face hovering mere inches from my exposed pussy and asshole. 

As Mandy struggled against her bonds, seeking some small measure of comfort, her nose would graze my puckered hole, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting through my body. I could only imagine the view from her perspective, my ass cheeks spread wide to reveal my fig-shaped, little puckered penny, slightly agape from the dildo stool in the previous room. The knowledge that she was being forced to confront such an intimate, dirty part of my anatomy sent a fresh rush of moisture to my cunt, even as I fought against the instinct to clench my muscles and hide myself from her gaze. 

As the minutes dragged on, Mandy's struggles grew more frantic, her body swaying back and forth in a desperate bid for relief. With each movement, her nose pressed harder against my bum hole, the sensation both thrilling and mortifying in equal measure. 

My own arousal was building, my clit throbbing with each ragged breath I took around the gag, I wanted to beg for release, to plead with Daddy to use me, to fill me with his cock until I screamed. But the gag held firm, reducing my pleas to a nothing more that muffled grunts and whimpers. I was nothing more than a toy, a plaything for Daddy to use as he saw fit. And god help me, I loved every minute of it. 

Our ordeal was far from over. Once Daddy had grown bored of watching Mandy's nose buried in my asshole, he untied us and dragged us to our feet. Our legs were shaking from the strain of our previous positions, but he showed no mercy as he forced us up onto our tiptoes like ballerinas. 

With swift, efficient movement, he secured our wrists, leaving us utterly helpless and at his mercy. But the true cruelty of his plan became apparent only when he knelt at our feet, attaching a small pad covered in wicked-looking spikes to the soles of our bare heels. 

A shiver of fear ran down my spine as I realized the implications of this new torment. If we allowed our tired calves to relax, even for a second, we would be forced to lower ourselves onto those sharp points. 

But if we tried to maintain our balance on our toes, our legs would quickly grow fatigued, the burn in our muscles becoming unbearable. 

It was a diabolical catch-22, a predicament designed to push us to the very limits of our endurance. As the seconds turned into minutes, I could feel my body beginning to shake with the effort of maintaining my position. 

Beside me, Mandy was faring no better, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she fought to stay on her tippy toes. Daddy circled us like a vulture, his camera trained on our contorted faces and trembling limbs, filming a little video for his future viewing pleasure. 

I clenched my core tightly, trying desperately to maintain my balance and avoid the cruel spikes beneath my heels. Suddenly, without waring, a loud fart ripped from my ass, echoing through the room like a gunshot. My eyes widened in horror, realizing too late that sitting on that dildo earlier must have pushed air deep into my bowels. The sound was unmistakable, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. 

Mandy stared at me in shock, while Daddy slowly lowered his camera, his face a mask of disappointment as he removed my ball gag. 

Before I could even begin to stammer out an apology, he was on me, dragging me roughly across the room to a bench and throwing me over his knee. I struggled against his grip, but it was useless - he was far too strong. His hand came down hard on my bare ass cheeks, the crack of flesh against flesh ringing out in the suddenly silent room. 

Through the haze of my humiliation, I could hear Mandy's shocked gasps, her horror only serving to amplify my own sense of disgrace. I had ruined Daddy's video by farting, and now I was paying the price, wracked with agony and embarrassment as Daddy's hand rose and fell, painting my bare bottom a deep angry red. 

As Daddy's spanking continued on my tender flesh, I found myself clenching my muscles, bracing against the impact. The pressure of his thighs on my tummy, combined with the tension in my core, proved too much for my already compromised bum hole. To my utter mortification, another fart escaped my body, this one even louder and longer than the last. 

Daddy froze mid-spank, his hand hovering above my quivering cheeks. For a moment, I dared to hope that he might show me some mercy, that he might understand the involuntary nature of my fart. But that hope was quickly dashed as he shoved me roughly off his lap, sending me tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs, attempting to shield my butt. 

I looked up at him, my vision blurred with tears, and watched in growing terror as he slowly unbuckled his belt, sliding it free from the loops of his pants with a soft whisper of leather against fabric. "You filthy pig," he snarled, doubling the belt over in his fist. "I'm going to teach you some manners." 

I scrambled backwards, trying desperately to put some distance between us, but there was nowhere to run. The first lash of the belt caught me across the backs of my thighs, a line of pure fire that stole the breath from my lungs. 

Through my pleas of "I'm sorry, Sir!" I could see Mandy, still balancing precariously on her toes, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and perverse arousal. I wanted to beg for her help, to plead with her to intervene, but the words died in my throat. All I could do was endure, my world narrowing down to the relentless rise and fall of the belt.

And I didn't even use my safeword! Hehe

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Brutal Tenderness

Her Dark Rooms

Continued from: Heathrow

A Sarah Jane story

Good evening, good morning, good afternoon, whichever applies to you; it's Sarah Jane. Let me get all of you quickly caught up on the last few days. After that kiddie pool incident with Summer and I, and my "Daddy", Russell, having a heart-to-heart with Cassandra, she was laser-focused to get herself to London, England to find her lover, Carley. 

Cassie's reckless impulsiveness must have been slightly infectious, as Summer volunteered to help her on her quest for love, followed by Mistress Andrea who "signed-on" to this trio next. The three girls are flying out this afternoon and Daddy and I are now at the bar, in Mistress Andrea's Facility, feeling kinda out of place. 

 

Daddy, for the second time this entire visit, was about to tell Mistress that we best be on our way home and as he was about to do so, she gabbed for his hands saying, "SHIT!....Shit, shit..." in a bit of a panic. 

Just as they were about to walk out the door, luggage in tow, Mistress suddenly froze, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh shit," she gasped, her eyes widening with realization. "I completely forgot about Mandy." She turned to face Daddy and I. "Mandy is a newer client of mine. She's booked for a multi-day session beginning tonight! I can't possibly cancel on her now." 

Mistress paced back and forth, her mind clearly racing for a solution, as the limo to the airport pulled into the driveway. Then, she stopped and embraced Daddy's hands. 

"Darling, I need you to take over this session for me. Mandy is into some pretty intense stuff - you'll have to use my dark rooms - torture, forced orgasms, consensual non-consent. I know it's a lot to ask but I trust you."

From my seat at the bar I felt a wave of heat hit me. My face first, followed by my pussy as I hung on the words that just escaped her lips. Mistress was definitely speaking my language! And who is this, Mandy??! 

I crossed my little fingers and chanted internally, "Daddy, please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, Daddy!" 

My internal praying was interrupted by an assist from Mistress, who turned to me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. 

"Sarah Jane, my dear, I think you may be able to help with Mandy also. You're no stranger to the heavier side of BDSM. 

I felt a rush of excitement course through my veins at Mistress' suggestion, my heart was pounding in my chest. As most of you know, Daddy keeps me predominately "little" and dressed like this most days. You don't whip or torture or electrocute someone dressed like this, right?  

The opportunity to indulge in some heavier play, to push the boundaries of pleasure, pain and consent, was almost too good to be true. I pictured the room in my mind - dimly lit, damp and dingy, filled with the scent of leather and earth as I pull against my chains. 

My daydream dispersed as my attention flipped back to Daddy, who was now trying to sort out how this whole dynamic would play-out. 

"But Mistress," he began, his voice laced with concern, "how will this Mandy girl, react to having a male dominant? She's obviously going to know that I'm not you. And including Sarah Jane in the scene too, as another submissive?"

Mistress confidently waved away his worries with a dismissive gesture. "Sweetheart, Mandy is true submissive at her core. Her desire for intense, dark play overrides any preferences for gender or number of participants. She craves the experience itself - the sensation of being tortured, broken-down, and used against her will. Trust me, once she's in that headspace, it won't matter who's wielding the whip."

Mistress' words alone already had ME in that headspace as I was shamefully soaking through my panties. 

She then checked her watch and huffed. 'We gotta go you two, you got this! We don't want to miss our flight," she said, gathering Summer and Cassie and helping them into the limo with their baggage. 

"Russell, pop into my office and find Mandy’s file on my laptop. Her hard and soft limits are in there, her safewords and there's an image of her face. She'll be here within the hour." 

With that, Mistress disappeared into the limousine, leaving Daddy and I alone with our thoughts. 

I followed Daddy into the office and sat on his lap as the screen illuminated to life.

Once her file was opened, I leaned in closer, curious to see the woman who would be sharing my Daddy's attention, grrrrrrrr! When her image appeared on the screen I couldn't help but gasp softly, she was undeniably cute, with her heart-shaped faced and expressive chestnut eyes. 

However, as I studied the photograph more closely, I noticed a hint of sadness, or a longing in her gaze that tugged at my heartstrings. Despite the initial twinge of jealously that threated to rise to the surface - I found myself drawn to her vulnerability. 

I was suddenly consumed with another daydream, the thought of being "forced" to go down on Mandy, to bring her to the heights of pleasure and transform her sadness into erotic bliss. Perhaps between Daddy and I, we can help her confront whatever demons lurked behind those lone, distant eyes. 

Sarah Jane 💟

 Continued in: Soccer Mom

 

Emasculation

Continued from: He's so Screwed

When we left off, the girls had taken poor Jeremy's cock and mashed it into a chastity cage that was about the size of an Oreo cookie. And if that wasn't bad enough, they used a threaded dildo attachment to give their submissive some usefulness, all while fucking with his mind and his pre-conceived notions of masculinity. 

Jeremy got the divine honour of fucking Mistress Summer with this thing, rather than his actual penis. But Summer made it very clear that if he chose to fuck her, she would be returning the favour. 

Before this comeuppance was administered however, Cassandra wanted in on the action. The solution these two vixens chose was a dildo gag. A short intruding portion that looks and feels like a realistic penis, went into Jeremy's mouth to gag him, while a lifelike dildo triumphantly protruded from the other side.

This must be dreadfully humiliating for Jeremy. Paying to be in the presence of and serve two shockingly beautiful women, yet reduced to using stunt-cocks to fuck them.

Summer rode him slowly and deeply, making sure her asshole dabbed his nose while she bounced away. Cassie took a firm grip of his nipples like they were reins, and slammed her juicy pussy into his chastity dildo. 

His desperation by this point, must have been unbearable. I'm sure he was begging to be fucked, if it meant he was one step closer to release, to having his cock-cage removed. 

The girls ran a train on him and took turns destroying his asshole with their own stunt cocks!

If he spurted from his tiny device, like a sissygasm from anal only, his cage would not have been removed. After several rounds of ass-fucking from both of gorgeous Dommes, the chastity-gasm eluded poor Jeremy. 

Cassandra was of course pissed-off, she didn't want to remove his cock-cage. I'm surprised she didn't kick his balls again, out of frustration. Rather, they subjected Jeremy to one final torment and made him watch, as Summer and Cassie had sex on the couch. 

Jeremy eventually earned his release, after an hour or so of suffering at the hands of these two beauties. Maybe not the release he was hoping for, but after 10 weeks in chastity, he took what was offered. 

The girls made him stand in the corner and face the walls. They sat close-by to supervise and humiliate him. Jeremy was permitted to masturbate while facing the corner, orgasm into his own palm, then consume his entire load. 

He was then required to turn and thank the dominant duo for the load of cum he just consumed. About five minutes after this, limp and shriveled once again, they had him locked back into his day-to-day chastity cage. 

Was it worth it Jeremy? A 30-second wank into your palm in exchange for humiliation, pain, mental torture, degradation and having your arse raped by these two? I'm hearing that no safewords were used... 

I'm sure you wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China, Jeremy...

As usual, I'll be keeping your chastity key as you return to the vanilla world. When you're ready for more heavenly hash, feel free to book with me again. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

 

Continued in: 'Tis the Season

 

 
    

"Thank you for Fucking my Wife"

Continued from: French Cut

and: Call me "Sir"

I watched intently, bathed with arousal, as Russell diligently lapped up all of his cum from my bare feet and swallowed it down like a good boy. He hadn't forgotten our old rules and protocols after all. 

I shooed him off the bed into a kneel, then simply glared at him, raising an eyebrow as a visual queue. Would he remember the second part of our old ritual? 

"Th....Thank you Mistress," he bashfully spoke, his face burning with embarrassment. 

"Good boy," I cooed back to him. 

Thanking me for letting him lick his own sticky ejaculate off my feet, then swallowing it all down. 

Priceless! 

I felt like his Goddess again, as he once used to address me during moments of intimate passion. Other times it would be "Mommy", his caring but strict protector, in moments when I had to tan his little butt over my knee. I was truly enjoying seeing Russell submissive and vulnerable again. It pulled at my heart strings. 

I cupped his chin into my hand and directed his gaze into my steely blue eyes. 

"Go find Sarah Jane, young man." I firmly spoke. "Find her and kiss her on the lips. Tell her that her submission is a wonderful gift to you and tell her how much you adore her."

He smiled and replied with a, "yes Ma'am." 

"Treat her to a lovely orgasm with that amazing tongue on yours. Do it from your knees. Show her a small glimpse of your submission...and change out of that silly pilot costume." I ordered, my tone both caring but strict. 

Russell scurried off to do my bidding. Likely embarrassed that his tongue and mouth were still glazed with his recently swallowed ejaculate. I wonder if Sarah will notice the taste in his mouth? 

Such a good boy! He did exactly as I instructed. I could hear Sarah Jane yelling "Daddy", from down the hall. 

Even though I masturbated and came while Russell was sucking my toes, I was still ravenous for more. I went to the find the girls in their "shoe closet", to see what they were up to. 

Vanessa was fully dressed and was preparing to leave. I guess she had a date-night planned with her husband. I jumped at the opportunity to pry for more. 

"By date-night with hubby, you mean him watching you with your bull?" I curiously prodded. 

"Yes Mistress, that sort of date-night." She chuckled as she answered. "Although he might be doing more than just watching tonight!"  

I shrieked with excitement. "That's so fuckin' awesome! I wanna hear all about it!" 

Vanessa giggled again. "Of course Mistress," she seductively purred and gave me a wink. She then kissed both Summer and I on the lips and made her way out.

As soon as I was alone with Summer, my dress was off and I was grinding my soaked pussy into her eager mouth. Gawd, I was so fucking aroused from everything that had played-out around me and the thoughts of Vanessa the Goddess Cuckoldress! 

I leaned my head back as Summer's tongue danced around my throbbing clit. I closed my eyes and began to envision Vanessa with her bull, fucking her vigorously as Derek kneels at the end of the bed and watches, his tiny cock straining against the confides of its cage, his body adorned in delicate pastel satin, lace and bows. 

Little did I know, he was given a much, MUCH more challenging offer from Vanessa, days earlier. 

Take it away, "Chatty" 

****

Vanessa gently posed the question one morning over breakfast. Derek felt a surge of conflicting emotions inside him. The idea of being taken by another man, especially in his sissy attire, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. His chastity cage served as a constant reminder of his limitations as a man, and the offer to experience intimacy in a different way intrigued him.

"I... I'm not sure," Derek stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. Derek felt deeply humiliated, but also an undeniable curiosity about the prospect Vanessa presented. To be taken by a "real man" and fucked just like a girl would experience was the daunting offer from his wife. 

Vanessa's hand gently cupped Derek's chin, guiding his gaze back to her. "It's alright, sissy. I know this is a big step, and I won't push you into anything you're not ready for," she reassured him, her voice soft and soothing. "Just think about it, and when you're ready, let me know."

Derek nodded, grateful for Vanessa's understanding. He knew that she would never force him into anything he wasn't comfortable with, and that reassurance brought him a sense of comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing. Vanessa clicked out of the kitchen, leaving him to his thoughts. 

As the day continued, Derek found himself unable to shake the idea from his mind. The thought of being penetrated like a girl, of surrendering completely to another man's desires, sparked a mix of excitement and anxiety within him. He couldn't deny that he was curious, that a part of him longed to experience the kind of pleasure he could no longer provide as a chastity-bound sissy.

The following days were filled with contemplation and introspection for Derek as he continued his life of sissy slavery and domestic maid chores. 

He discussed his feelings and desires with Vanessa, sharing his hesitations and fears. She listened patiently, offering support and guidance without judgment.

The odd time, Vanessa would have to firmly remind him of the hierarchy in their relationship of wife, bull and cucked husband.

In the end, Derek made his decision. He found himself drawn to the idea of experiencing intimacy in a different way, of letting go of his preconceived notions of masculinity and embracing a side of himself that had remained hidden for so long.

As the night of Anthony's visit approached, Derek's nerves and excitement grew. Vanessa had made all the arrangements, and she reminded Derek what was expected of him. He was dressed in a delicate shade of yellow, the soft fabrics hugging his curves, while the chastity cage confined his flaccid penis from within his panties, emphasizing his submissive status. With his makeup perfectly applied and his wig styled in cute ringlets, Derek was the epitome of a sissy doll. Vanessa couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, knowing the effect it had on his state of mind.

The thought of being dressed in such an embarrassingly girlish outfit in front of Anthony both thrilled and embarrassed him.

When Anthony arrived, Derek greeted him with a curtsy, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a mix of anticipation and vulnerability, knowing that tonight would be unlike any other.

"Good evening, Sir." Derek managed to squeak out in his wispy attempt at a feminine voice. 

Anthony simply smirked, as Vanessa was advancing on him, lustful to greet him as her cherished lover. 

With a snap of her fingers and a point to the corner, Vanessa quickly dismissed Derek to his position of shame and embarrassment. He was reduced to a mere observer, only able to listen to his wife and her bull. 

Their passion continued to escalate and from Derek's shameful perspective, he could now hear zippers being undone and Vanessa's moans of delight. 

Soon after, the quiet living room filled with the sounds of Vanessa, gagging her way through a challenging deepthroating of Anthony. 

After what seemed like an eternity of jealously, shame, humiliation and involuntary arousal for poor Derek, Vanessa took Anthony's cock out of her mouth long enough to summon Derek to the couch. He was bound and gagged, and positioned on display, forced to watch. 

"As Anthony pleasures me," Vanessa said, her voice low and seductive, "you will stay right there, watching and listening to every intimate moment. You will be my little cuckold sissy, knowing that you can never please me like a real man can."

Vanessa positioned herself in a manner that would be extra humiliating for Derek, ensuring that she could not only look directly at him while Anthony fucks her, but also reach his chastity cage to grope and fondle.  

Derek's cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he knew that this was what Vanessa wanted, and he was determined to fulfill her desires.

"I want you to listen to the sounds I make, the pleasure I experience," Vanessa said, her gaze intense. "And as you listen and watch, you will know that you will never be able to satisfy me like Anthony can. You will be humbled, emasculated, and utterly submissive."

"Yes, Mistress," Derek replied, his voice barely above a whisper and contorted by his ball-gag.

Vanessa smiled, knowing that Derek was fully submitting to her and embracing his role as her sissy cuckold.

"And just to remind you of your place," she said, reaching down to touch the chastity cage that confined Derek's penis, "your little clitty will remain locked up while Anthony and I enjoy each other." 

(Yes, "Chatty" actually generated that one and this entire exchange). 😈

Derek's breath caught in his throat at the reminder of his chastity. It was a constant reminder of his submission and his inability to please Vanessa sexually.

"But don't worry," Vanessa said, a mischievous glint in her eye, "I will make sure you get plenty of attention afterward. You'll be begging for Anthony's fat cock in your ass, won't you, my little sissy?"

Vanessa continues her relentless barrage of torment and humiliation, as Anthony fucks her just as relentlessly. 

After Anthony finishes inside Derek's wife, he is released from his bondage and invited to join in on the action. 

At Vanessa's gentle guidance, Derek felt a rush of both excitement and apprehension as Anthony's glistening cock was brought closer to his painted lips. The vivid contrast of his feminine appearance against the throbbing masculinity before him heightened his vulnerability and arousal.

"Go ahead, my sissy," Vanessa cooed, her voice a soothing melody. "Give it a kiss, just like you practiced with my strap-on earlier."

Derek's face blushed deeply, over Vanessa’s announcement that he practices with a training cock. 

With a deep breath, Derek parted his painted lips and tentatively placed a delicate kiss on the tip of Anthony's penis. It was a moment of surrender, a symbolic act that signified his acceptance of his submissive role and his willingness to experience pleasure in a way he had never known before.

"May I please clean you off, Sir?" Derek whispered in defeat. 

"You may, little girl." Anthony responded. 

"Thank you, Sir. And thank you for fucking my wife, Sir." 

These were the last words to escape Derek's painted lips, before he was silenced by a giant cock. 

"That's a gooooood guuuuurl!" Vanessa purred to her husband. 

To be continued. 

Mistress Andrea and "Chatty"

xoxo

Continued in: Husband gets Blacked