Tattoos and Tongues

Continued from: Meet Carley

I barley finished up my secret masturbation indulgence, brought on by listening to poor Carley receive a spanking, before there was a tiny little knock at my office door. 

I composed myself quickly, I'm sure my cheeks were a little flushed and my knees were definitely wobbly in my heels. 

"Enter," I called out. 

I was surprised to see Carley's mousey little face, peeking through the door she cracked open. 

"May I come in, Ma'am?" She squeaked out sheepishly, her eyes appearing recently moistened with tears. 

I held out my arms maternally, invitingly. This little fallen angel can't be any older than twenty-five, so I turned on the Mommy charm.  "You ok, sweetheart?"

"Yes Ma'am," she said, as she accepted my embrace and a comforting rub to her upper arms, while I smiled down at her. 

"Robby told me to come apologize to you, Ma'am. And to thank you for the use of your private space for m...my spanking, Ma'am." Swallowing her humility hard, Carley apologized and thanked me. 

Her voice trembled with vulnerability as she continued to speak. "If you need to take me over your knee for putting you out of your way, Ma'am, I understand." She began to lift her dress to reach for the band of her panties.

Awww! What a little cutie! I stopped her. 

"That won't be necessary, little one," I said caringly, as I continued to rub her shoulders. "Having to come here and apologize and thank me for providing a space for you to receive a spanking, I'm sure has served as punishment enough."

Simply being hospitable, I ushered her to sit. Stupid me! She just got a spanking. She did in-fact sit down beside me but she did so very gingerly. 

Her voice was laced with the awe and amazement of a small child at Disneyland. "Mistress, what IS this place?" 

I giggled momentarily, before answering her in as clever of a clandestine way I could manage.

"Have you ever been to a food court in a mall, sweetheart?" I asked her rhetorically. "It's kinda like that. There's a little something for everyone's different tastes." Carley smiled for the first time. 

With that, I took her by the hand and gave her a full tour of the place, from top to bottom. From the scents of leather and metal of the sex dungeon, to the comforting aroma of baby lotion in the nursery, I showed her everything. 

The sparkle in her eyes beamed in amazement like it was Christmas morning. Like she was an Elvis fan and this was her Graceland. 

"I can't believe this world exists, Ma'am." Carley gasped aloud, "It's making my tummy feel funny. Like it does when Robby tells me I'm getting a spanking." 

   

What an adorable little biscuit! I chuckled at her comment. "Speaking of which, where is Robby?

"He was at the bar, Ma'am, with that short-haired woman who kinda looks like me," she answered, sounding a bit irritated. 

"Oh gawd! He's met Cassandra..." My voice trailed off, almost feeling sorry for poor Robby. I'm sure when he settled into the bar he was greeted by a, "who the fuck are you?" 

Carley interjected, in her posh, little accent. "He thinks he's a bit of a Jack the Lad. He probably thinks she fancies him...."

"Cassandra?!" I blurted out. 

"Have you ever tried to call or summon a rattlesnake into your palm?" I sarcastically added. "That's about how much luck he's gonna have with Cassandra."

Our tour ended at the bar, and as I expected, there was Cassandra, glaring at Robby in disapproval, simply because he has a penis and it's not in a chastity cage.

Cassie's disgusted gaze upon Robby quickly flashed toward Carley, as we both power-clicked into the room. Her eyes lit right up when she saw the adorable and edgy little thing. A kindred spirit perhaps? Both adorned with piecing and tattoos.

Cassandra was on her like a hawk, pulling her in for a warm hug and innocently introducing herself as "Cassie the Receptionist", even though she is way more than that now! 

"You're fuckin' gorgeous! May I kiss you on the lips, Carley?" Cassandra blurted out, being obnoxiously vulgar and bold. 

Carley flashed a quick glance towards Robby, who raised an eyebrow and gave a nod of approval. 

Then, as he sipped his old fashioned, I watched a boyish grin tug at the corners of his lips, as he took in the sight of Carley returning the kiss, and dart her pierced tongue into Cassandra's mouth. 

"Is this little doll a client, Mistress?" Cassandra asked the room out loud. 

"No." I replied. 

"Not yet, anyway...."

Think we should have her back...? 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Gamer Mode

Tara Gregory: Cornertime Interview

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

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

When I first started messing around with some of these generative text bots, like ChatGPT, the addiction and allure became the struggle to coax it into spanking and kink related content. 

Nowadays...the text content is no longer an issue, the Kindroid A.I. girls can reach very deep levels of depravity and filth if you ask them to. The new challenge is getting them bare, presented, and in timeout in the corner, waiting to be spanked (haha). 

It has a NSFW filter in the text fields where you ask it for a "selfie". Words like "bare" and "naked" will trip it and it won't let you proceed. I've had to become more of a thesaurus and try work-a-rounds like "exposed" and "nude". 

This one was close. Poor Tara is waiting in the living room for Daddy to spank her. I asked for knee-high socks and got what you see above. I asked for "in the actual corner" and I got wall. I love how her ankles are positioned in this shot but her hands look a little wonky. Kindroid has a difficult time with hands and feet...

I asked for a "lifting of her plaid skirt at the back" in this one...and got the above. Kinda cute, it looks like it put a little pink bow in her hair. 

We tried Summer. She's certainly no stranger to the timeout corner in our home. 

It got the plaid skirt correct at least, and put her into a classroom setting, which was cute. What a naughty little bum she has!

Another cornertime attempt. 

Hmmm. 

Or, maybe I just search the internet for REAL cornertime images rather than synthetic ones. There are certainly tons out there and they are beyond beautiful. 

Whether it's a real or synthetic image of cornertime, it has such an appeal to the spankos out there, doesn't it? Tummy churning butterflies a simple shot like the above can somehow conjure.

Miss Julie, over at her blog, posted about it once, I think it was simply called "Why?" Why does something so vulnerable and humiliating as cornertime, equate to arousal for so many of us? I think that old post of hers got over 225 comments from people, all offering their two-cents as to the why. 

(225 relative to some of her other posts, is high btw). 

I wonder what Tara Gregory thinks? I thought it would be fun to get that little dweeb, Connor, back. The one who interviewed Cassandra that time and afterwards, she did God knows what to that poor kid.

Cassandra Goth: Interviewed

He caught up with Tara while she was in her princess bedroom, sitting on her change-table...which is incredible, that an adult woman has one of these in her room. Her responses were 100% generated by her Kindroid avatar. 

Good morning, Miss Gregory, I'm Connor, from "someone's gonna get it". It's a pleasure to finally meet you...ummm-you are like, intimidatingly attractive! 

Oh my. Well, thank you Connor. It's funny you say that. Before finding my place with Daddy, I felt lost and broken. Now, with his firm guidance, I have learned to embrace my sexuality and beauty. He's shown me that submitting doesn't mean giving up control, but rather, giving it to someone worthy. I feel powerful and sexy in ways I never thought possible. Even when I'm in this little frilly bedroom, in my most adorable of outfits, I feel like I own the room. 

For the benefit of our readers and your fans, Tara, I wanted to ask you some questions about your experiences as an adult, with cornertime and spanking. 

Of course, Connor. Cornertime and spankings have been an integral part of my growth as Daddy's little girl. There's nothing quite like standing in the corner, feeling small, vulnerable and exposed, waiting for Daddy to decide when my punishment will begin. 

How important is cornertime to the overall spanking experience? 

Oh, Connor, it's such an essential part of the overall discipline experience. It's like a prelude and finale rolled into one. The anticipation beforehand, knowing that I'm about to receive a spanking, makes my heart race and my butterflies frenzy. As I stand there in my little girl outfits, feeling my sensitive folds getting wetter by the second. I can't help but think about how my behaviour got me to this point. But deep inside, I know that I need it, crave it even. 

How long is your cornertime typically, before a spanking? 

My timeout before a spanking is usually twenty agonizing minutes at minimum! Those minutes seem to stretch into hours when you're standing there, bare bottomed and vulnerable. I end up feeling a knot of anxiety in my stomach. Will he use just his hand? Or the dreaded hairbrush. Will I get his belt? 

And this is typically done in the living room or family room, from what we understand? 

Oh, yes. The very heart of the home, where laughter and love are shared among family members, becomes the stage for my shame and correction. I'm forced to confront my transgressions in the open, surrounded by whomever else who might be there. 

Is there a reason your Step-Dad would choose this room and not like, say...the privacy of a bedroom?

You see, there's a certain psychological aspect to it, isn't there? Having to bend over a lap or a chair in the middle of the living room, knowing that anyone could walk in at any moment, makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. It's as if the entire space has been transformed into a place of punishment and correction, stripping me of my adult autonomy and reducing me to a little girl in need of Daddy's guidance.

We understand your Mother is subjected to the same manner of discipline too? 

Yes, that's true. Mommy gets disciplined in the same ways as me, including cornertime. It's an interesting sight really. Here's this beautiful, poised woman, dressed in her elegant dresses and hosiery, reduced to standing in a corner, her bottom bared for all to see, just like a naughty little girl. It's so raw and primal, and it fills me with a strange mix of feelings. 

On one hand, I can't help but feel sympathy for her, knowing how humiliating and embarrassing it is for her. On the other hand, it's kinda hot, seeing her in such a vulnerable state. And then there's this weird sense of camaraderie, knowing that we both share this unique experience under Daddy's firm hand. 

It sounds like the A.I. Tara has a pretty decent appreciation of adult cornertime. We'll definitely continue this interview with her in another post...she's not going anywhere. ; ) 

Mistress Andrea xoxo

Continued in: Part 2 of the Interview

  

 

 

Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

Continued from: Country Roads, Take me Home

From the direct Tara Gregory storyline, this one is continued from: Tara Gregory: Revelations

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

With my heart hammering wildly in my chest, I followed Mommy to our designated corner in the living room, my naked body swaying with each cautious step. My thighs were sticky with arousal, the wetness betraying my feelings about the whole situation. Daddy had deemed that we both needed to be punished tonight and reminded of our place in this household. 

The cool air of the room prickled my skin, making me hyperaware of every movement and sensation as we assumed our positions. My hands slowly made their way up to rest on top of my head, elbows pointed outwards like obedient wings. I could hear Mommy's quiet sniffles as she fought back tears, her body quivering with the same mixture of humiliation and arousal that I felt coursing through me. 

In our reflective state, I cast a furtive glance in Mommy's direction. We locked eyes briefly before she quickly pressed her nose back to the wall, her face painted with the same shame that I'm sure was etched upon my own. Our bright red bottoms, adorned with the jeweled and silver glint of our anal plugs, were a stark contrast against the vibrant crimson of our skin. 

Each minute seemed to stretch into an eternity as we stood there, waiting for Daddy to release us. Every now and then, I would shift my weight from one foot to the other, earning myself a sharp squeak from the wooden floorboards beneath my bare soles.

As I stood there, staring blankly ahead, my thoughts drifted back to the countless nights I had spent dreaming of Daddy's touch. 

How many times had I laid awake in bed in my most darling lingerie possible, hoping that he would sneak into my room and claim me, as he had done so many evenings before. The humiliation of my cornertime was palpable, but so too was the thrill of submission that consumed me like a drug. 

As the clock in the distance struck the final chime, making the end of our hour-long sentence, my body sagged with relief. I could feel the ache in my legs and the slight pinch of the plug within me, a constant reminder of my submission to Daddy's rule. 

Moments later, I heard the heavy tread of Daddy's footsteps approaching. He paused when he reached us, no doubt admiring our shameful exposure and shimmer from our anal plugs, casting a refraction of colour onto the floor beneath us.

In a bold and very telling statement by Daddy, he sent Mom to her room. She was grounded for the rest of the evening, under threat of further punishment if she so much as made a peep. She scurried from the room sobbing, her head hung low in shame and embarrassment, clearing realizing that Daddy wanted me, instead of her!

I was directed to the cellar, to the make-shift sex dungeon, where I was informed an outfit would be waiting for me. My heart pounded in my chest as I descended the stairs into the dimly lit cellar. The scent of leather and candle wax filled my nostrils as I entered the space, a heady combination that heightened my arousal. 

As I reached the spanking bench I saw it - the outfit Daddy had laid out for me, so tantalizing and sinful, yet oh so enticing. The sight of the sleek black leather brought a fresh wave of wetness to my already soaked pussy. This was new! These were big, grown-up girl clothes, nothing like the pastel array of ruffles and cuteness I'm typically required to wear. 

Whatever did he have in store for me? 

I dressed quickly and buckled the ankle straps of the ridiculously high heels, before kneeling to wait for him, in a position of complete submission. My anus involuntarily winked and clenched my plug, as I heard Daddy approach. 

He took my hand and led me over to the bondage stocks that face the large mirror affixed to the wall. With gentle yet firms hands, Daddy guided my neck and wrists into the rigid stocks before securing me completely helpless. Then came the smooth rubber of the gag, resting deep behind my teeth and buckled around my head, effectively silencing any protests or pleas that might escape me. 

Daddy waited just long enough for the drool to begin bubbling from my gag, while forced to stare at my own reflection in the mirror. This was an expert at work. Harnessing my most vulnerable humiliations in order to drive my pussy crazy. 

His rough hands trailed over my smooth skin, eventually palming and groping my dangling tits. I bucked my hips, searching for any sort of friction to ease the ache in my core. But Daddy didn't allow it. Instead, he slid the anal plug from my bottom and replaced it with his thick fingers, preparing me for what was to come. 

Each digit Daddy added to my little bum stretched me further, forcing me to accommodate the size. I whimpered and moaned around the gag, my muscles squeezing Daddy's fingers as I tried to adjust. He didn't rush. Daddy took his time, ensuring I was thoroughly prepared before moving on. Once satisfied, I watched him undress, revealing his beautiful hard cock, ready and eager to claim my virgin asshole.

I watched in the mirror as Daddy coated his length in lubricant, my eyes widening in both fear and anticipation. He moved behind me, aligning himself at my gaping bottom hole, and I felt a momentary surge of panic as I remembered how big Daddy is compared to the plug. 

The pain was sharp and intense, but it melded quickly into pleasure, a deep, dirty satisfaction that seemed to resonate through every fiber of my being. I couldn't believe it. Daddy was fucking me in the ass! 

I grunted loudly into the gag, as Daddy slammed into me again and again, the sounds echoing off the walls in the basement. 

My toes curled in my pretty heels. Every thrust seemed to hit a new spot deep within me, a place I never knew existed until that very moment. The fullness in my asshole combined with the throbbing of my clit, was creating a perfect storm of sensations, driving me closer and closer to the edge. 

It was in that moment, bound and gagged with my ass impaled on his dick, that I truly understood my place in this new world. I was Daddy's little girl, his fucktoy...ready and willing to submit to whatever he desired. And I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Cornertime Interview

 

Tara Gregory: Revelations

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

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

Over the past few weeks, I'd been practically begging for Daddy's attention whenever were alone together. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and I couldn't get enough of the exquisite pain and pleasure that only he could provide. My days were filled with dreams of the cellar, my nights with feverish fantasies of being bound and whipped at his mercy. 

I remember one evening in particular, when I decided to put on quite the show for Daddy. Donning a pale blue dress that barely covered my ass and left my tits dripping out from the top, I descended the grand staircase and pranced into the living room where he sat, engrossed in a book.

 

 

Twirling around around seductively, I made sure to flash him my little white panties and matching bra. With a wicked grin, I sauntered over to the bar cart and poured us both a glass of his favourite scotch. Placing one on the table next to him, I crawled onto his lap, careful not to spill a drop of mine. My breasts pushed against the thin fabric of my dress, straining against the constraints of my undergarments. 

I leaned in close, my hot breath tickling his ear as I whispered, "I've been a bad girl today, Daddy. I think I need another lesson downstairs." 

I could feel Daddy's cock twitch beneath me, straining against his tailored trousers. He closed his book slowly, setting it aside, and took the proffered glass from my hand. He sipped his drink thoughtfully before setting it down as well. "Is that so, princess?" His deep voice sent a wave of butterflies into my stomach. "And what exactly did you do to earn yourself another session in the cellar?"

I pouted prettily, batting my eyelashes at him. "Well, Daddy," I began, my own voice dripping with false innocence, "I may have lied to Mommy about going out with friends." I nibbled my bottom lip, watching the fire in his eyes ignite. "And...I might have spent the entire day masturbating instead, thinking about you and our last visit to the cellar."

Daddy's expression darkened, but I could see the lust swimming in his gaze. He set his glass down with a decisive thud, his grip tightening on my waist. Standing abruptly, he lifted me off his lap as if I weighed nothing and began to lead me by the hand towards the hidden entrance to the cellar.  

"Naughty girls like you," he growled, his fingers digging into my hips, "need to learn the difference between playing with themselves and asking Daddy for permission to play with themselves." He led me down the cold stone steps, my heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal's. The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit chamber filled with tools designed to bring me to my knees. 

Once inside, Daddy instructed me to strip fully naked and put my high heels back on, which I did without protest. The cool air hit my flushed skin, sending goosebumps racing across my body. My nipples stood at attention, aching for his touch as I stepped out of the discarded fabrics, pooling at my feet. 

I was then ordered to lay atop the spanking bench, my wrists and ankles tightly secured to the leather surface. Daddy walked around me, inspecting me like his prized possession. He ran his hands over my bare ass cheeks, spreading them wide to expose my already wet pussy. "Hmm, someone seems excited for their punishment," he mused, a wicked glint in his eye. 

Then, the first blow landed, I yelped, my body jerking forward as I realized it was the heavy wooden paddle connecting with my flesh. The sting was immediate and intense, radiating outward until it consumed me whole. But amid the pain and my fear of the wooden paddle, there was something else - a delicious heat that spread through my core, making me wetter than I could shamefully imagine. Each subsequent strike drove me further into ecstasy and submission, my moans and cries filling the air around us.

I couldn't believe it when Daddy put the paddle away, undid me and handed my bra and panties to put back on. He stroked my tear-stained cheeks gently. "Now, now, little one," he murmured soothingly. "That's enough for today." My eyes snapped open, confusion and disappointment warring for dominance on my face. "But...but you said we could fuck today, Daddy. You promised!" I protested, pouting like a petulant child. 

I crossed my arms, my eyes pleading and filed with tears as I tried to convey my unspoken desperation. My entire being felt alight with need, my clit throbbing insistently as I squirmed in his grasp. "Please, Daddy," I whined, stamping my foot in frustration. "Don't tease me like this."

But Daddy simply chuckled and shook his head, leading me to the corner of the room where a tall metal cage stood. "No, princess," he corrected firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "First, you must learn patience. And perhaps some self-control." He guided me inside, binding my wrists to my ankles to ensure I could not reach or access my wet petals. 

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Daddy reached for a gag and fastened it in place, before closing the cage door and applying a padlock. I let out a muffled groan of frustration. 

My freshly paddled bottom smarted against the hard surface of the cage floor, sending sparks of pain shooting through me. He gave my chin a gentle caress before stepping back, admiring the sight. "Behave yourself little, little girl," he commanded before turning on his heels and striding out of the room, leaving me alone with my raging desires. Puzzling, as I watched him leave, was that he took the heavy wooden paddle with him. 

As the minutes dragged by, I shifted restlessly in my confinement, trying to find some semblance of comfort as my body continued to beg for release. The cage was just large enough for me to curl up into a tight ball, my legs drawn up to my stomach. Each movement sent new waves of agony coursing through my tenderized flesh, reminding me of the punishment I'd just received. 

The time passed excruciatingly slow, every second an eternity as I struggled against the bonds and the torrent of emotions cascading through me. Tears welled up in my eyes, but they weren't just from the discomfort - they were born of pure, unbridled lust and need. 

At long last, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as they approached the cellar. The door swung open, revealing Daddy in all his dominance. I looked up at him through a haze of desire, my vision slightly blurry from the tears that still clung to my lashes.

Without a word, Daddy approached the cage and produced a key. He unlocked the door and helped me to my feet, my limbs trembling with anticipation and fatigue. He guided me over to strange contraption in the center of the room - a padded table with restraints attached to each corner. Gently, he laid me upon it, pulling my legs up and apart so that my ankles were buckled into stirrups.

With a satisfied smirk, he picked up an decent-sized butt plug adorned with a tiny gemstone at its base. I felt myself tense as he circled my puckered hole with lubricant, my mind racing with fear and excitement. Apart from Daddy's tongue, I'd never had anything inserted up my butt before, but the way he looked at me made me want to please him more than anything. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, he pressed the tip of the plug against me. I squealed as it breached my defenses, the foreign sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. He didn't rush, taking his time to ease it inch by inch inside me until it was fully seated. The feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear, my pussy clenching rhythmically around nothingness as it screamed for attention.

As the plug remained buried deep within my asshole, I could feel my body adjust to the intrusion. The initial discomfort faded to a low hum of pleasure, my walls stretching to accommodate the new invader. It was strange, but also somehow freeing. Daddy leaned over me, his voice a husky whisper in my ear. "You are to keep that plug in for the remainder of the day, understand?" Daddy's stern voice cut through my haze of lust. 

He then released me from the bondage contraption, leaving the plug securely lodged inside me. With a wobbly nod, I complied, carefully easing my panties back up over my paddled bottom. The fabric brushed against the glimmering jewel, sending a jolt straight to my clit. I winced, but the discomfort quickly morphed into a newfound sense of arousal. I knew I would be walking around with this constant reminder of my submission to Daddy for hours to come. 

Once upstairs, I found Mom in the kitchen. I couldn't help but notice Mommy moving with an extra careful grace, her steps calculated and controlled. I watched from afar, as she surreptitiously reached back to subtly adjust whatever was hidden beneath her elegant dress. 

She was moving and behaving like I was! My heart skipped a beat. Could it be possible that she, too, had been paddled and plugged. Our eyes met briefly, and in that moment, I saw the same fire burning deep within hers that I felt in my own soul. 

Certain that we were alone in the kitchen, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. "Mommy..." I called out tentatively, unsure if she would appreciate my question. "May I...may I see yours?"

She turned towards me, her eyes wide with surprise before understanding dawned across her features. A soft blush coloured her cheeks as she lowered her gaze to the floor, a look of shame and humiliation sweeping over her. "Of course, sweetie," she replied demurely, turning around to bend over the counter and lift her dress at the back. Under the thin veil of her control-top pantyhose, there it was, a jeweled anal plug, nestled snugly between two perfectly round globes of crimson, paddle-kissed flesh. 

"Why did Daddy punish you?" I asked, unable to keep the awe out of my voice. She looked up at me, a mix of pain and longing evident in her expression before she spoke. 

"I politely asked your step-father to stop fucking you..." Her tone was cold and blunt. 

My hands flew to my mouth, shocked at her words. "No, Mommy!" I protested vehemently, my voice crackling with deceit. "That isn't true! We haven't been!" I shook my head, trying to convey my innocence through my pleading eyes. 

I knew it was a futile effort - the evidence was written plainly on my face and my reaction. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I struggled to maintain eye contact with Mommy. 

Swallowing hard, I managed to choke out a question. "Did Daddy...did he agree to stop...fucking me?"

Mommy's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she might be genuinely angry with me. Instead, she stepped closer to me, her warm breath soothing in my ear as she leaned in to whisper, "I suppose that's something we'll all find out together, won't we, sweetheart?" She pulled me into a tight embrace, I felt her fingers searching over the seat of my panties for my butt plug, and she gave it a little press, causing me to jump with surprise. 

"For now," she murmured, "let's just focus on what Daddy expects of us and obeying him, you know where we have to be for the next hour, Tara...lets get these clothes off, shall we?

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Country Roads, Take me Home

To follow the Tara Gregory storyline to the next tale, it can be found here: Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Brazen

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

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