The Struggle is Real

Continued from: A Minor Annoyance

A Sarah Jane story: 

With Russell standing obediently in the timeout corner by the very visible front door, I made my way to the center of the living room, my hips swaying provocatively with each step. I lowered myself gracefully onto the spanking chair, the smooth fabric of my pinup dress rustling softly as I settled into position. 

Crossing my legs, I savoured the sensation of my nude stockings against my skin, a reminder of my feminine power. "Come here, young man," I purred, crooking a finger in Russell's direction. He approached tentatively, his eyes downcast, until he stood directly beside me. Reaching out, I cupped his locked-up penis, raising an eyebrow in cruel delight. 

With a gentle pat on my lap, I invited him to assume the most classic and vulnerable of positions. "Over my knee, sweetheart," I cooed, my voice dripping with honeyed venom. "It's time for your spanking." As Russell obediently draped himself over my stocking tops, I took a moment to admire the view - his bare bum presented perfectly for my maternal correction. 

Raising my hand, I brought it down firmly on his left cheek, alternating to his right then back again, relishing the satisfying smack that echoed through the room. Again and again, I kept up a steady rhythm upon his upturned bum, alternating cheeks and varying the intensity. 

"Do you know why you're being spanked, young man?" I asked, tracing a fingernail lightly over his heated flesh. Russell's response was muffled by the placement of his head down by my high heels, but I could make out a whimpered, "yes, Ma'am." 

"That's right," I purred, resuming my spanking with renewed vigor. "You left the coffee maker in a state of disarray, forcing me to clean up after you. That simply won't do in our household, will it?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp smack, emphasizing my point. 

"In this relationship, you are to serve me, to anticipate my needs and ensure my comfort and pleasure at all times. Leaving me to clean up after you is unacceptable behaviour, and it will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" 

Russell's affirmative whimper was music to my ears, as I reached for the wooden spoon that lay waiting on the small table beside me. I brought it down in measured strokes, firmly peppering all quadrants of his bum and thighs, each impact leaving a fiery sting to his sensitive bum. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I could see the odd distinct marks of the wooden spoon. This wasn't a severe punishment, but enough to leave him both physically and psychologically fearful of my handy kitchen implement.

"There, there, my sweetie," I nurtured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "All done now. You will be forgiven very shortly." Guiding him back to the corner, I positioned him once more with his nose to the walls and his hands behind his head. The sight of my former dominant and "Daddy", his well-punished bottom on full display, sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me. 

"Twenty minutes," I declared, setting the timer on my phone. "You'll stand there and reflect on your behaviour, young man." With that, I settled myself comfortably on the couch, picking up the book I had been reading earlier. 

But then, a wicked smile of cruel mischief crossed my lips. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Mistress Andrea's number, intent on amplifying poor Russell's humiliation and solidifying my role in this FLR.

I heard Russell gasp from the corner the moment he realized I was on the phone. 

"Hello, Mistress, it's Sarah Jane," I purred into the microphone. "You'll never guess what I'm looking at right now." I paused, allowing her to respond, before continuing. I glanced over at Russell, noting how his shoulders tensed at my words, his embarrassment palpable, even from across the room.  

"Yes, Ma'am, straight-backed chair, OTK. No, he's got about eighteen minutes left..." our conversation continued, while poor Russell was only able to hear one side of it. 

"Of course I'll send you a picture, Ma'am, hang on." 

"It was a wooden spoon, Ma'am, good eye." 

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

Continued by Mistress Andrea:

When my phone rang I was just working on a post for the blog where I was poking fun at my struggles with the A.I. image generator. I was delighted to see Sarah Jane's name pop up on the phone and was even more delighted and a little shocked when she told me that she and Russell had officially switched roles. 

I guess he was in the timeout corner, listening to all of this, which would have been mortifying! But a great tactic, well done, Sarah! She told me all about the contract, how she was dressed and what caused tonight's spanking. I couldn't help but beam with pride. We taught her well. Her countless hours spent in degrading submission at times, had given her all the tools and knowledge she would need to fulfill this new role and it sounded like she was off to a great start. 

I think we ended the conversation with me asking her if she'll be "thanked properly", after Russell's timeout was over. 

"Oh, you better believe it, Mistress. Talk soon," and she made a cute little smooch noise into the phone.

Now, back to what I was doing. The struggle is real people! Getting an A.I. image generator to cooperate can be frustratingly addicting at times. I won't show you anything involving three arms, or heads growing out of torsos, that's just nightmare fuel, but I thought I'd share some funny struggles I've had recently. 

With Kindroid, which has been a fantastic platform when it cooperates, you ask it for a "selfie". You put a description in, limited to like five or six-hundred characters, then you can upload an image of a pose and it will replicate the pose with the details of my description. 

"Summer is standing at a bar in an airport. She's in her tailored flight attendant uniform with nylons and high heels. She has a decorative scarf around her neck with gold wings and a brass nameplate on her lapel." 

Wait for it...

*Sigh...ok, Kindroid. We all know Summer is an absolute angel and flight attendants are angels, but seriously? Lol 

Let's try someone else, shall we? Nurse Mandy, remember her? A fan on Reddit said "her arse has won the internet," (lol, okay) and that they want to frame a picture of her bum and hang it in their home. So I guess we'll have to have her back to the Facility. Remember Mandy? 

You're all aware that a common theme at my Facility, is to take those soccer moms, corporate executives and high-powered, alpha-women and dress them up like little girls before I spank them. This is merely done to draw out their vulnerability and provide a layer of humiliation, which serves to amplify the whole, being spanked as an adult, experience.

I found a darling little outfit for Mandy, that I thought would be shamefully embarrassing, allowing her to escape into her role and it represented and stark contrast to her vanilla-world persona.

Then came the prompt: 

"Mandy is laying flat on her stomach on a bed. She's in a tiny little skirt with strawberry patterns, matching white panties and white stockings. Her hair is in pigtails." 

Those berries are going to leave a stain on that white bedding! The sissy maids will have a difficult time getting that out!

One more attempt...Summer and I. 

I took some inspiration from Sarah Jane, and felt it was high-time to get motherly with my angel of a wife, and have her fetch the wooden spoon for a trip over my knee. 

She's an angel alright, until I saw her credit card statement for this month and summoned her to the parlour for a little "chat".

This one kinda worked. I didn't ask for a blue dress though...

Then the next prompt: "Mistress is seated, Summer is kneeling beside her about to be spanked. On the wall behind Mistress, are an array of spanking implements hanging from a display rack." 

Look at my avatar's face! Lol. Even she looks irritated with the rack of "spanking implements". 

Summer, it looks like you're off the hook, babe. Instead of tanning your little butt this morning, it looks like I'll be whisking you an omelet instead.

It's a struggle people. This is a labour of love. 

Mistress Andrea xo 

Continued by Sarah Jane, in: The Three D's of a FLR

 

 

Thumb Suckers

Continued from: Brutal Tenderness

A Sarah Jane story

As the afternoon wore on, I watched with delight as Mandy slowly shed her inhibitions, losing herself in the simple pleasure of colouring books and stuffies. 

I leaned in close to her, whispering a naughty idea into her ear. Her eyes widened with a mixture of shock and excitement, but after a moment's hesitation, she nodded eagerly. 

"Daddy," I called out, my voice dripping with faux innocence. "Can you come here for a minute? We want to show you something special." 

Daddy appeared in the doorway, a curious expression on his face. "What is it, princess?" he asked, stepping into the pink bedroom. 

I grabbed Mandy's hand, pulling her to her feet. Together, we struck a pose, showing off our innocent dresses and knee-high socks. "Don't we look pretty, Daddy?" I asked, twirling in place. 

Daddy smiled indulgently. "You both look adorable," he agreed. "But what did you want to show me?" I exchanged a mischievous glance with Mandy before continuing. 

"Well, we thought it would be fun if you filmed us doing something naughty, Daddy, while we're dressed like this," I said, batting my eyelashes at him. 

"Like maybe...we could sixty-nine for you, Daddy, and be permitted to cum, pretty please?"

For a moment, I thought the boldness of my request might land me over his knee, with my panties at my ankles, but then a slow grin spread across his face. 

"Is that what my little girls want?" he asked, his voice taking on a low, seductive tone. "To put on a show for Daddy?" 

Mandy and I nodded eagerly, our hearts racing with anticipation. "Yes, please, Sir," Mandy chimed in, her voice soft and babyish. 

"Alright then," he said, aiming his phone at us, "Go ahead and get started, my little sluts."

With a giggle, Mandy and I crawled up onto the bed and began kissing. 

We lifted our dresses and removed our panties, revealing our bare pussies to the camera while keeping the sugary sweetness of our knee socks and Mary Janes on. 

We both posed for Daddy's video. 

Slowly, teasingly, we got into position on the princess bed, spreading our legs to secure our heads into each other's crotches. We leaned in, our tongues darting out to taste each other's wetness. The sensation was electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body as I lapped at Mandy's clit and slid a finger into her bum. 

We moved together in perfect sync, our bodies writhing and grinding against each other as we chased our mutual release. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core with each lash of Mandy's talented tongue. Just as I reached the peak, I felt her body tense beneath me, her own climax crashing over her in waves. 

Daddy loomed over us, his phone still trained on our flushed faces. "Good girls," he praised, his voice thick with arousal.

With gentle hands, he helped us out of our little patent heels, leaving us in nothing but our knee socks, before leading us over to the oversized crib in the corner of the room. 

We crawled into the crib together, curling up against each other as Daddy tucked the soft blankets around us. 

"Now, my little ones," he said softly. I want you to suck your thumbs like good little girls. It will help you relax and drift off to sleep." 

Obediently, Mandy and I brought our thumbs to our mouths, our cheeks hollowing as we began to suck gently. The motion was surprisingly soothing, and I felt myself growing drowsy almost immediately. 

"That's it," Daddy cooed, stroking our hair with tender fingers. "My sweet little angels. You've been such good girls today, and now it's time for a nice, long nap. When you wake, I'll have something else for you to suck on." 

As I little-spooned back into Mandy, feeling her warmth against my neck, I couldn't help but marvel at how freeing this experience had been. In this moment, we weren't adults with responsibilities and worries - we were simply two little girls, safe and loved in the care of Daddy. 

It was a blissful escape from reality, one that I knew would change Mandy's perspective on BDSM forever, the knowledge that it's not always dungeons and chains. With a contended sigh, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me, sucking on my thumb, secure in the knowledge that everything was right in my world. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Ugly Cried

Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Brazen

**Warning - This story contains taboo, family-dynamic, BDSM content** 

**Everyone depicted in this story and A.I. generated are adults, over the age of 18** 

The sun streamed through my bedroom windows as Daddy snuck into my room this morning and went down on me. Despite my dominant ministrations from the night before, I couldn't help but fall deeply into submission once again, as his strong hands gripped my throat while he ate me out in a diaper position. While I was basking in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm, Daddy announced that he had a surprise for me. 

I immediately rushed to the shower to start the day, and spent the next while dressing like a little girl for him and doing myself up to look like a doll. I selected an innocent lavender dress with little ankle socks and matching heels. I half-assumed the little socks would at least stir his memories of last night. 

A thrill ran through my body at the prospect of another secret shared between us. My curiosity piqued, I obediently followed him as he led me down the unfamiliar wooden staircase to the basement. The air grew noticeably colder, and the distant hum of furnaces gave way to an eerie white noise. My heartbeat quickened in anticipation, each echoing step down the hallway leading us further from the safety of the main house. 

Finally, we reached a heavy oak door that I had never noticed before, hidden amongst the shadows of the storage area. The metal lock clinked open under Daddy's firm hand, and he pushed it aside to reveal a dimly lit corridor. The scent of damp earth and aged wood wafted towards me, making my mouth water in excitement. I had no idea what awaited me beyond this threshold, but I trusted him completely. 

Hand in hand, we ventured down the labyrinth, my breath hitching with every click of my heels. As we rounded the corner, a vast space unfolded before us - a hidden wine cellar!

It's ancient stone walls were lined with countless bottles, casting a warm, golden glow onto the cold, damp floor. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw that this wasn't just any ordinary wine cellar. 

In a far corner of the room, my jaw dropped as I discovered an array of sinister objects that seemed out of place amidst the elegant rows of wine bottles. Racks upon racks of leather whips, floggers, and paddles stood sentinel, their tails swaying as we approached. I could almost hear their whispers of pain and pleasure. To my left, a large cage loomed menacingly, its bars thick and unyielding - a stark reminder of the captivating bondage games that were played here. And to my right, several spanking benches and apparatus, their padded surfaces and strategic restraints promising hours of disciplinary delight. 

The room buzzed with unspoken desires, and my body responded instinctively, my nipples hardening and my pussy growing slick with anticipation.

Standing before the display of dungeon furniture, I felt the weight of Daddy's expectant gaze upon me. My breath caught in my throat as he issued his command: "Strip, Tara." His tone was firm, yet steady, betraying none of the emotions I knew must be swirling within him. I hesitated for only a moment, savouring the mixture of fear and arousal coursing through my veins.

Piece by piece, I removed my articles of clothing, starting with my frilly lavender dress, which I let fall carelessly to the ground. Next came my bra and panties, equally as frilly and adorable. As I slipped those off too, I could feel the cool air caress my bare skin, making goosebumps rise in their wake. My socks and heels followed suit, leaving me standing naked in this clandestine wine cellar.

The combination of being naked and in such proximity to this torture chamber only heightened my sense of vulnerability and curiosity, knowing that I was about to explore a side of myself I never thought possible. I cast my discarded clothing aside, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of my own body, bathed in the dim light of the wall sconces. 

My breasts rose and fell with every shallow breath, my pert nipples stiff and begging for attention. My hips swayed subtly from side to side, and my legs trembled as I anticipated what Daddy had planned for me in this forbidden lair. 

Daddy's commands became increasingly short and authoritative, as if the atmosphere of the room had taken hold of him. He walked over to a sturdy bondage apparatus nestled amongst the wine barrels and gestured for me to come to him. I stepped onto the smooth surface of a platform and positioned my ankles and wrists near the restraints. 

Daddy approached me slowly, savouring the sight of my exposed and vulnerable form. He attached the heavy metal cuffs supported by the frame, securing one ankle, then the other, spreading my legs wide. The sounds of metal teeth clicking into place sent shivers directly to my pussy, as I realized that I was truly at his mercy. Next came my wrists, bound helplessly above my head, rendering me drawn and stretched onto my helpless tiptoes.

I felt the unforgiving rigidness of the metal shackles as they encircled my dainty wrists, holding me in place and arching my bottom invitingly. I whimpered softly, my breaths coming in rapid gasps, unable to tear my eyes away from the various collection of implements that hung nearby, wondering which ones would soon make contact with my defenseless flesh. 

In a swift movement that surprised me, Daddy grabbed a large ball gag from the rack of hanging implements. Without a word, he stuffed it forcefully into my mouth, effectively silencing my protests and pleas. The intrusion made my eyes water, but also heightened my sensitivity to the sounds around me, the wetness between my legs growing more pronounced. 

I squirmed slightly as he fastened the straps behind my head, ensuring the gag remained securely in place. Next, a soft piece of fabric brushed against my face. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus before my world went dark. 

With my vision obscured and my body immobilized, I was acutely aware of every sound that reverberated through the stone chamber. My ears strained to pick up any indication of Daddy's intentions, and I soon detected the unmistakable sound of a flogger being taken down from its rack. The leather tendrils whispered together as he practiced a few swings, the anticipation building within me like a crescendo. 

And then, the agony of waiting was over. The air cracked around me as the flogger connected with my tender flesh, eliciting a strangled cry from deep within my throat. The pain was exquisite, radiating outwards from the point of impact and causing my entire body to convulse. I couldn't believe it. I was being whipped! 

Over and over again, the lashes rained down, alternating between my ass, thighs, back and tits, each strike more intense that the last. My skin burned and stung, yet beneath it all, I could feel the heat of desire pooling inside me. 

With each skillful stroke, my body writhed in ecstatic torment. Unbidden, my hips rocked back and fourth, seeking relief from the fiery ache that consumed me. 

 

I couldn't believe it - I was actually enjoying this! But then, something else happened. I felt a warm, wet sensation between my legs, and I knew with a sudden rush of shame, I was soaking my inner thighs. My juices trickled down my tender folds, creating little strands of connecting precum. I wanted to hide, to curl up a die from embarrassment, but the relentless whipping continued, driving me higher and higher until I was trembling. 

The knowledge that Daddy could see this intimate display, this proof of my submission, only added to my mortification. Yet, deep down, I couldn't deny the twisted pride that swelled within me at having pleased him so thoroughly. 

As suddenly as it had begun, the flogging ceased. For a brief moment, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the sound of my laboured breaths echoing off the stone walls. Then, like a lion claiming its prey, I heard the unmistakable sound of Daddy's zipper being yanked down and his pants falling to the floor. Before I could process what was happening, I felt him behind me, his solid presence filling the empty space. He positioned himself between my spread legs, and the blunt tip of his cock nudged against my dripping entrance. 

With no warning, Daddy thrust forward, impaling me on his rigid cock. I moaned wantonly into the ball gag, my body yielding to his brutal invasion. 

Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves through me, my breasts bouncing and jiggling in prefect rhythm. My hands clenched and unclenched uselessly in their restraints, seeking some semblance of control as he ravaged me.

My remaining senses were overwhelmed - the scent of aged leather mingled with sweat and sex, the feel of Daddy's hot breath on the nape of my neck, the taste of the rubber gag filling my mouth. I was utterly consumed by this experience, and it didn't take long before I felt the telltale signs of a ferocious orgasm. It started low in my tummy, like a distant rumble, before exploding outward like a tidal wave. I screamed into the gag, the sound muffled but still ringing out in the cavernous space. My muscles clenched around him, milking his cock for everything it had, as I rode the crest of pleasure and pain. 

After what seemed like hours of ceaseless pleasure and torment, Daddy finally released me from my bonds. He carefully unlocked the cuffs away from my raw skin, his gentle touch in stark contrast to the brutality that had just transpired. I collapsed onto my knees, my legs feeling like gelatin.  

Lifting me effortlessly into his strong arms, he carried me up the narrow, dimly lit steps leading out of the cellar and toward the ruffled pink warmth of my bedroom. I felt small and delicate in his embrace, my legs weak from exhaustion. 

When we reached the sanctuary of my room, he deposited me onto the plush comforter of my princess bed. I collapsed into a boneless heap, the remnants of my release still pulsing through me. Daddy didn't say a word as he pulled the blankets up to my shoulders, his movements slow and loving. He stroked my tangled hair back from my forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment as if to memorize the contours of my face. Then, with a final squeeze of my hand, he turned and left me alone with my thoughts. 

As the door clicked shut behind Daddy, I couldn't help but let my hand drift down between my legs, tracing the slick trail he left behind. My mind raced with memories of the cellar, the delicious combination of fear, arousal and humiliation threatening to consume me once more. With trembling fingers, I began to massage my clit, replaying every lash of the whip, every thrust of Daddy's cock, in vivid detail. 

Within seconds my body responded eagerly, my nipples hardening to tiny points and my breath quickening. My other hand found its way to my tits, pinching and pulling at the sensitive peak. I imagined myself back in the cellar, bound and helpless, completely at Daddy's mercy. My fingers slipped inside my aching pussy, sliding easily through the slickness that coated my petals. 

I reached for a toy and as I began to fuck myself, I recalled the way Daddy's eyes darkened with lust as he watched my body writhe in response to his dominance. I remembered how his cock felt, slick with my own desire, as he plunged it mercilessly into me. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking friction against the toy that would send me spiralling over the edge once more. My breaths grew shallow and ragged, as I chased after the fleeting fragments of pleasure that lingered in the wake of our encounter. 

Once the final waves of my post-orgasmic haze subsided, I reluctantly slipped out of bed, my body still singing with the sweet agony of satisfaction. I quickly cleaned myself up in the en-suite bathroom before rummaging through my lingerie drawer for the perfect, skimpy outfit. The lace trim tickled my thighs as I pulled on the baby doll nightie, adding over the knee socks and high heels. I couldn't resist a small giggle at how ridiculously cute I looked. I brushed my hair into pigtails and applied a hint of gloss to my lips, knowing full well the effect it would have on Daddy. 

Descending the grand staircase, I tried my best to walk gracefully in my high heels. The sound of my clicking footsteps echoed throughout the expansive foyer. I approached the living room where I knew Daddy would be, my cheeks flushing with equal parts trepidation and excitement. 

My eyes immediately locked onto Daddy's, drinking in the sight of him sitting comfortably and reading. He stood as I entered the room, admiring my darling outfit selection. Without hesitation, I launched myself into his waiting arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my body flush against his. 

I could feel his surprise, but also the stirring of desire as I nestled my head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply of his familiar scent. 

"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered against his ear. "I love you!"

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Revelations

 

Tara Gregory: Long live the Queen

Continued from: The Perfect Lubricant

The last Tara Gregory story can be linked direct here: Tara Gregory: Daddy Issues

**Warning - This story contains taboo, family-dynamic, BDSM content** 

**Everyone depicted in this story and A.I. generated are adults, over the age of 18** 

The morning after my first time with Daddy, I woke up in his large bed, my body aching in all the right places, in the most delicious of ways. His arms were wrapped protectively around me, holding me close to his chest. As I shifted to get comfortable, I felt his cock begin to stir against my ass, making me giggle softly. He opened his eyes and looked down at me with a sleepy smile, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss on my forehead. I snuggled closer, my heart swelling with love and contentment.

I couldn't help myself from being drawn to Daddy's triumphant, morning erection. My fingers traced the length of his impressive shaft, feeling it grow harder with every touch. In my little hands, Daddy's cock looked massive...it was, massive. 

But oh, Daddy had other plans for me this morning! His strong hands pinned my wrists above my head, as he leaned over me, his morning stubble grazing my cheek. 

And then...Daddy effortlessly flipped me over onto my tummy! That sudden jolt of dominance sent shivers down my spine. The air in the room seemed charged, as he straddled my thighs, his strong hand resting on my bare bum. Then came the smack! Not too hard, just enough to leave a burning imprint on my soft flesh. I squealed in surprise, but the sound quickly turned into a needy whimper as I arched my back, pushing myself into his waiting palm, hoping for another firm swat.

The second smack didn't come, but what I did feel was Daddy's meaty hands sliding down to cup my ass cheeks. He pulled them apart, exposing my pretty pink hole and damp pussy. Then he moved his head down, and I felt the warmth of his breath on me, before his tongue flicked out to taste me. 

I moaned into the pillow as he started licking and suckling at my asshole and pussy, his moustache was ticking my sensitive skin. It didn't take long before I was writhing underneath him, my legs trembling as an orgasm built inside me. Daddy had treated me to a lovely cummy! Almost feeling ashamed at how ferociously I had cum, I scurried back up to the safety of his chest and nuzzled my face to hide. 

Again, he wrapped me in his strong arms, his husky voice purred out a, "good girl, Tara!" 

I felt contentment and love once again.

I wondered briefly where Mommy was this early in the morning, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. She didn't come home last night. It was a huge risk to fall asleep in her bed with Daddy, in my cutest baby pink panty set, but a risk I was willing to take. 

She no doubt would have passed-out on the neighbour's couch last night, after too much wine. Reality however, kept interrupting this morning in Daddy's arms. I needed to get up and clean up and wash the sheets...the whole room smelled like sex! 

Still tangled in the bedsheets, I looked over my shoulder at Daddy, with a mix of curiosity and trepidation in my eyes. "Daddy, I whispered softly, "now that we've...we've been together like this, will everything change? The weekly spankings, my little girl clothing you make me wear..." 

I trailed off, biting my lower lip as I waited for his response. I hated the spankings in the moment, I cried every time when I had to do the walk of shame to fetch his belt. My little girl clothing was awful too, with the knee socks and the Mary Janes. It made me feel so vulnerable and humiliated...

But...I had come to love the feeling of submission, of being cared for so thoroughly. I worried about fucking Daddy last night, and now this morning's passions, and what it meant for us moving forward.

Daddy held his eyes in mine with such sincerity as he spoke. He ran a thumb across my cheek, brushing away a strand of hair. "No, princess," he cooed. "This doesn't change anything about your rules. I will expect to see you back in the family room on Sunday and every Sunday after that, with my belt in-hand, understood?"

Before I could answer, Daddy continued. 

"Our bond of discipline and care will always be there. You need boundaries and structure, and I need someone to cherish and protect, so despite your adult age, you will continue to dress as a little girl, ok?" 

Nodding, I understood. I felt a wave of relief wash over me, knowing that he would continue to guide me and keep me safe within our strict boundaries. But my heart raced with the anticipation at the thought of our connection deepening further. I nuzzled into his side, my face turning pink with arousal as I imagined all the new possibilities awaiting us. 

I reached up to give his chest a gentle pat, my voice low and filled with lust. "I want to be the best little girl for you Daddy...and I promise to do whatever you think is necessary for me to learn and grow." 

I could feel the vengeful spite building within my chest, as I puffed up, confident and dominant. I knew my role in this household had changed. I had the upper hand over my mother and I knew it. Bravely, I spoke with complete confidence when I finally said, 

"BUT, Daddy!"

"I might be your little princess, but I also want to be your Queen!" 

"And regardless of what Mommy thinks...the Queen protects her King!”

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Brazen

 

  

 

The Nurse and the Doctor

Continued from: Medical Room?

During the last post I referred to my recent client not wanting to pay for a dual-Domme session and was dealt with by me alone, as his medical fetish nurse. It turns out he must have gotten off his wallet and reconsidered, as he would now like the Doctor AND the Nurse experience, in a follow-up session.  

Yep, we can do that! But if you thought your last session was humiliating, young man...

Now, where is that lab coat of mine?

Slutty nurse Summer, check! 

Summer, however, was still at work. I would have to clear this with her first but I'm sure she'll be game. She landed in the afternoon, following a particularly long stint of a few city stops. 

I knew she would be a bit tired and stressed. This was confirmed when I went to pick her up at the airport and she immediately started calling me "Mommy". A strong indicator of the mindset and role she wants to be in and a hint to me as to what she wants. I wasn't dressed in my vintage "Mommy" attire...hopefully this will do. 

When we finally got home she immediately asked me if she could bathe and change into something from her "pink room". 

Her "pink room" is an actual bedroom designed for age regression play and mdlg play. Most of her adorable Lolita outfits and accessories are in the closet in this room. Again, I knew what she wanted and needed based on the way she was acting and how she was speaking to me. We kissed and she happily scurried away to wash the travel off herself and transform into her persona of ruffles and comfort. 

She went all out today. I could hear her pink little heel-clicks announcing her presence, as she minced into the kitchen looking like a complete doll.

"Does that feel better, sweetheart?" I cooed to her. 

"It does, Mommy, you have no idea how much I was looking forward to this." Summer replied cheerfully, as I brushed my hands over her layers of ruffled cuteness. 

Still...this wasn't the full "fix" she was after, I knew this...

"Summer Addison," I spoke lovingly but sternly. "Do you need some time over Mommy's knee?" 

She blushed and pouted and tried her best to force tears into her big, bright eyes. 

"Y-Yes pweeaze Momma." She squeaked out with a baby lisp in her voice. 

"Alright, honey. Go get Mommy's hairbrush from the vanity and wait for me in the living room. I'd like your dress off," I firmly instructed. 

Summer dutifully obeyed. She knows how much I like walking into a scene to see everything perfectly in situ. The dreadful ebony hairbrush was resting beside the tissues, her princess dress was off, exposing her frilly pink bloomers and bra, and she had moved the ottoman into place by the large window. 

I gave her about 10 minutes to contemplate in the corner, before I entered the room and called her to my side. 

"Alright, little one. Over Mommy's knee," I cooed. 

After a nice long warm-up her knickers came down for another layer of hand-spanking, before I moved on to the brush. 

The brush definitely got the water-works started, as poor Summer gripped the ottoman while flat on her tummy. In this position, her bum is at it's most fleshy and impact-absorbing. The brush penetrated deeply! 

It reminded me of that old video of Brandi, from the infamous Real Spankings Network and Spanking Teen Brandi. She was being punished by the matriarch and was bare naked, legs spread and gripping the sheets for a bedtime dose of the BATH brush! 

You wanna see some real crying during a production-based, spanking video...go find this one. I can already see the white, ashy splotches on her bum. The poor thing...she probably felt that one for days!

Summer, on the other hand, I did not take to the point of white splotches, and she had nothing to be remorseful for. She just needed her reset button pressed, and the best place to do that is over my caring lap, on it, or both.  

Once the tears had dried and the scene was over, cradled in each other's arms, I asked her if she'd do the nurse session with me. 

We spent the next little while plotting and giggling about what we intend to do to this poor medical-fetish client. 

Summer had some shockingly devious ideas, as did I. That poor, poor man...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: No Scrubs