A Sarah Jane story
As I observed the unfolding drama, Mistress' expression turned glacier-cold, her patience worn threadbare by Summer's bratting. With a crisp tone, she commanded, "Get out of the pool, young lady." Summer, sensing the gravity of her mistake, slowly climbed out of the water, her lower lip trembling. "And don't dawdle," Mistress added, her gaze unyielding.
"Cut a willow switch from the garden and strip its leaves. We need to discuss your behaviour." The implication hung heavy in the air - a switching awaited Summer's bare bum, and I suspected it wouldn't be a gentle one.
Seated on a little chair, her back to the three of us and head bowed, Summer resembled a chastened schoolgirl, facing the fence as if confined to timeout. Her task, stripping the willow switch of its leaves, became an exercise in humiliation, each delicate finger movement a reminder of her behaviour.
The air was heavy with expectation as Summer, her cheeks aflame, carefully carried the denuded switch to Mistress Andrea, her hands extended to present it shamefully. "Please, Mommy," she requested, her voice laced with embarrassment, "may I be punished, Ma'am?" The words dripped with obedience and ritual, yet trembled with trepidation.
I watched, riveted with secret arousal, as Mistress inspected the whippy instrument of correction, her scrutiny unwavering. Satisfied with the weight and flexibility of the switch, Mistress stood tall in her stiletto sandals. "Bend over, Summer Addison," she commanded, her voice devoid of emotion.
As Summer reluctantly complied, she flipped her hair to the side, looking back and crying frantically. "Please, Mommy, not here! Not in front of everyone!" Her gaze scanned Daddy and I, searching for a sympathetic ear. "Take me inside, please! Punish me in private, Mommy!"
With a curt nod, Mistress grasped Summer's bicep, as she dragged her struggling form toward the pool house, leaving Daddy and I to sit in their wake. As they vanished into the dim interior, the door swung shut behind them, enveloping us in an uncomfortable silence.
Eventually the door creaked open and Mistress emerged, her demeanour serene and composed, a stark contrast to the turmoil that lingered within. She deliberately left the door open, framing a tableau absent of dignity: Summer, stood with nose pressed to the corner, her slender hands clasped atop her head in a posture of shame and surrender.
The curvaceous perfection of Summer's bum, once smooth and unblemished, now bore the crimson testament of her misbehaviour - 26 precise welts, etched across her skin like a fiery script. Daddy and I heard her count aloud, all 26, although her sobs rendered the last few counts indistinguishable.
Thirty minutes crept by slowly, Summer still trapped in her shameful corner, her body language screaming of remorse and fatigue. Then, I gently broke the stalemate. "Daddy...why don't you go comfort her, if Mistress is ok with that, of course."
Daddy's gaze darted toward Mistress, awaiting her approval and consent. We all knew that when I said, "comfort her", I was actually suggesting that Daddy give her what she so desperately craved and so frustratingly missed out on, last night.
"Should we give the little brat what she wants?" Mistress chimed in. "That seems a bit counterproductive."
"It's okay, Daddy," I urged him on with my gentle tone. "I want you to...and I'm sure Mistress will have something to keep me busy out here," I glanced to Mistress with a devilish grin.
As I watched, Daddy shut the door to the pool house behind him, his entrance heralded by a faint whimper from Summer, still positioned in the corner. She didn't dare move, her only sign of life came from a sigh that escaped her lips. But as Daddy's footsteps drew closer, her head slowly turned, her gaze rising to meet his.
A smile of triumph flickered across her features as she took in the sight of him, his swim trunks discarded, his cock proudly erect. She gingerly knelt down and sat back on her heels, causing her to wince as her little bare feet came into contact with her whipped bottom.
Focusing on the engorged cock, just inches from her lips, in a parody of innocence, she cooed, "Daddy, is that for me?" The words dripped with affected sweetness, but beneath, a layer of raw hunger.
"Someone seems like she knows how to throw a tantrum and get her own way?" Daddy teased. "But bratting comes at a cost it would seem."
"YES!" Summer squealed. "That's it! Call me your spoiled brat when you fuck me, Daddy. Teach me a lesson."
I think Summer was being deliberately loud, as Daddy draped her over a giant inflatable pool toy and fucked the daylights out of her, intentionally broadcasting her pleasure in a display of bratty victory.
But I wasn't paying much attention, my focus was consumed by the lush, velvety softness of Mistress' pussy, my lips worshipping the delicate contours as she guided my head with gentle pressure.
What a wild few days I've had!
Sarah Jane 💟
Continued in: Sunglasses
Sarah Jane's actual summer cuteness is purchased from an online store called "Little for Big". She has a few of these little suits and she and Russell do indeed, own a kiddie pool for her.
Here's a link to the store (and I am in no way affiliated to the store, it's just really cute stuff!)
