Floating on a Cloud

Continued from: I Don't Want This!

[F/f] [F/m] [M/f] [lezdom] [HoH] [FLR] [chastity] [spanking] [tease denial] [DDLG] [age regression] [MDLG] [Daddy] [Mommy]

A Sarah Jane story

It was a frigid Tuesday morning when I tiptoed into our bedroom at Mistress Andrea's Facility, my blonde pigtails bouncing with each step. I was carrying a tray with a steaming cup of coffee and some fruit. It would be a lovely surprise for my sleepy Daddy, who was still snuggled under the covers. 

I couldn't resist giving him a gentle wake-up call, singing out in my sweetest tone, "good morning, Daddy! Rise and shine!" 

As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, I set the tray down beside him and leaned in for a gentle peck on the lips. My bright blue jammies, adorned with fluffy white clouds, seemed to match the cheerful atmosphere I was floating on. Little did I know, this innocent start to the day would unfold into something far more scandalous... 

Daddy sat up on the bed as I playfully flopped down into his warm spot, a sly grin spreading across my face. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble we might get up to today. Summer was away at work, that Skylar girl had gone home to study for something, and Mistress was downstairs in the kitchen. All alone...with "Mommy" and "Daddy" all to myself? I thought. 

As Daddy reached for the coffee I playfully swatted his hand away, teasing him with a giggle. "Oh, no you don't, Daddy! Not until you've given me a proper morning kiss!" 

Mmm, those special Daddy kisses! He had me out of my jammy bottoms in no time, as I removed my top, leaving me in my sockies only, as his lips travelled the length of my bare bum. My heart skipped a delightful beat as he reached to part my ass cheeks, his gentle kisses transforming into deep licks. I let out a contented sigh, my back arching deeper as his tongue penetrated my little pucker. 

Each kiss, each lick, was a masterful blend of adoration and desire, rendering me helpless against the tide of arousal rising within me. I began to slowly masturbate, swirling two of my fingers over my clit as I could feel my ass peeking open, now being fucked by Daddy's tongue. 

As the pressure built, I barely got my ask out in a shriek of desperation, "may I cum please, Daddy?!" Right before the dam broke, as I was given his permission at the last second, I violently orgasmed onto my fingers. My body trembled, my heart raced, and I let out a series of sweet, surrendering squeaks as the waves of orgasm crashed through me. I wanted to be fucked so badly in that very moment!

Alas, as delightful as this morning interlude was, I knew it was only a taste of the forbidden fruit - for, as we all know, Mommy's wise rules dictate that Daddy's cock remains safely secured within its chastity prison. 

I cleaned myself off my fingers, as I am required to do post-orgasm, then finally emerged from our cozy little cocoon as Daddy headed for the shower. I chose an outfit that was playful and darling, a pink dress covered in sprightly florals. To complete the look, I added a pair of crisp white knee socks and Mary Janes. As I twirled in the mirror, my pigtails bouncing with each rotation, I couldn't help but giggle at the sheer absurdity of it all. What other forty-something year-old woman gets to spend their morning like this, receiving special Daddy kisses, dressing like a little girl? *giggle*

I made my way to the living room, where Mommy was, her warm smile greeted me, and I hastened to give her a tender kiss on the lips. "Good morning, Mommy!" I chimed, scanning her features to see if she could taste me on her lips. She smiled indulgently, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she no doubt just heard me cumming, from upstairs. 

"Good morning, little one," she replied, while sliding her tongue over her lips that I just kissed. "Would you be a dear and unload and load the dishwasher for me?" she asked, her tone soft and gentle. 

"Yes, Mommy," I nodded, my eyes downcast in submission.

I wasn't exactly thrilled about being tasked with domestic chores. But, alas, as a dutiful little slave to both Mommy and Daddy, I knew better than to express any dissent. After all, I'd learned the hard way that disobedience would earn me a stern reprimand and a sound spanking over Mommy's knee - or worse, across Daddy's knee. 

Ugh, just the thought of it made my tummy swirl with bittersweet butterflies! I recalled the last time I'd earned a spanking, my tears and sniffles mingling with the scent of Mommy's perfume, as she scolded Summer and I for our misbehaviour and silliness. The sting of her hairbrush on my tender bottom still lingered in my memory, a potent reminder to behave myself and follow orders in this new dynamic. 

With a heavy sigh, I finished the dishes, scrubbing away the last remnants of last night's dinner from the plates. I dried my hands on a nearby towel and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable reporting of my task completion to Mommy. 

I made my way back to the living room, where Mommy sat serenely, her piercing blue eyes watching me with an unnerving intensity. 

I dropped to my hands and knees before her, my heart racing with a mix of trepidation and devotion. I lowered my body to kiss each of her sleek high heels, my lips making contact with the patent leather. "All done, Mommy," I reported, looking up at her with what I hoped was an endearing expression. 

A warm smile spread across her face, and she extended a manicured hand, beckoning me to rise. I took her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity run through me as she led me toward her private office. What secrets did she have in store for me, in that strict and private space? Would it be a lesson in obedience, or perhaps a reward for my diligent efforts?

My heart skipped a beat as Mommy produced a glinting key from the cleavage of her breasts, the tiny metal shape dangling precariously from a necklace. She strode purposefully to the imposing safe in the corner of the room, unlocking it and opening it with a clank.

I watched transfixed, as she rummaged inside, finally emerging with a delicate golden key duo. These were no ordinary keys though - these were the coveted keys to Daddy's chastity cage! My pulse quickened as Mommy approached me, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for doing the dishes, little one," she cooed, depositing the keys into my waiting palm. "Here's your allowance." 

The cool metal seemed to thrum with possibilities as I wrapped my fingers around them, my mind racing with all the wicked delights I could orchestrate with this newfound power. 

"You have 45 minutes with the keys, huni, to do as you wish," Mommy announced, her voice low and sultry. Oh, the things I could accomplish in three-quarters of an hour! I could hardly contain my squeals of glee as I envisioned the tantalizing scenarios unfolding in my mind. 

Would I tease him mercilessly, or grant him release from his cage? One thing was certain: the next 45 minutes would be a whirlwind of delicious debauchery, with yours truly holding the reins, or so I thought. 

As I skipped into the bathroom, a vision of sugar and spice, I caught sight of Daddy emerging from the shower, droplets of water clinging to his powerful physique like diamonds. 

My breath did an intake, snagged by the glinting gold chastity cage encasing his penis, a constant reminder of Mommy's ultimate authority in this place. 

A saucy grin spread across my lips as I held out the precious keys, taunting him with the promise of release. 

"Oh, Daddy!" I teased, my voice a honeyed purr, "Mommy gave me my allowance for the week!" 

I turned seductively, the rustle of my dress a mere accompaniment to the main event. Reaching beneath the hem, I pulled my panties down. His strong hands wasted no time, grasping my ass cheeks with firm intent, massaging and slapping at them with possessive fervor. 

I felt his meaty hands spreading my bum cheeks, exposing my perfectly pink little princess parts. Leaning back slightly, I cooed up at him, my tone husky with invitation. "Is this what you want, Daddy?" 

The words hung in the air like a promise, a dare, and a surrender...all at once. Yet, I was still holding the reins, for now.  

Sarah Jane 💗

Almost out of Time

The Season for Giving

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Never a dull Moment

Continued from: Fire & Ice

[Romance] [DDLG] [M/f] [Daddy] [F/f] [littles] [drama] [dungeon] [fetish] [leather] [sissy]

In the dimly lit basement of Cassandra and Carley's Coventry townhouse, the air thick with the scent of leather and female arousal, a symphony of tortured moans and muffled screams filled the room. As a centerpiece, perched precariously atop a wicked wooden pony, was a naked young woman, her body trembling with agony as the weight of her petite frame pressed down upon the edged wood of the device. Her most sensitive areas - her delicate pussy and tender asshole - bore the brunt of her body weight. 

A bit gag had been forced between her teeth, rendering her cries for mercy into little more than pathetic, drooling whimpers, while electrodes attached to her stiffened nipples, delivered intermittent shocks. Tears streamed down her face, smearing her carefully applied makeup and leaving streaks of mascara trailing down her flushed cheeks. 

As the pitiful moans and choked cries of the woman on the pony faded into the background, becoming little more than white noise, Cassandra turned her attention to her next victim - a pale-skinned Irish lass with fiery red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. The girl was bound to a whipping frame, wearing only stockings, her porcelain skin glowing like moonlight in the dimly lit dungeon.

"Now then, my pretty little bitch," Cassandra purred, circling the spread and bound woman, a riding crop twirling ominously in her hands. "I understand that you've been sent here by your husband? Is that true?" 

The girl nodded miserably, her lower lip quivering as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the muffled cries of the woman on the pony. "I've been arguing with my husband, talking back to him when he tries to discipline me. I know I've been bad, and I want to be better. Please, Mistress, help me learn my place." 

Cassandra smiled indulgently, reaching out to strokes the girl's bum cheeks which already bore some fiery welts. "Of course, my dear," she said, her voice laced with false sympathy. "That's why you're here isn't it? To learn the true meaning of obedience and submission. And I promise you, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect, docile little wife your husband deserves."

The girl yelped in pain, her body jerking against her restraints as a vivid red welt bloomed across her pale bottom. 

"Count them," Cassandra commanded, her voice hardening as she prepared to deliver another stroke. "And thank me for each one." 

As Cassie attended to her whipping, close-by, another scene of debauchery was unfolding. There, bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight, stood Carley - a striking vision of tattoos and piercings, her lean, slender body clad in nothing but stiletto boots and a harness of black straps that accentuated her every curve and contour. 

Around her waist, protruding obscenely from between her legs, was a massive strap-on dildo, its thick shaft glistening with male saliva as it bobbed menacingly in the air. Kneeling before her, was a man dressed in the trashy attire of a streetwalker - fishnet stockings, a leopard-print skirt, and a halter top with falsies. His lips were stretched around the tip of the cock, his cheeks hollowing with each desperate suck as Carley gripped his head with both hands, using his throat like a cheap fuckhole. 

Beside them, standing rigidly at attention and possibly impaled anally on some bondage apparatus, was a second man. A ball gag filled his mouth, reducing his protests to only grunts. Over his eyes, a blindfold rendered him completely helpless, unable to see the degrading spectacle that certainly awaited him. But even without the use of his senses, he was acutely aware of his displayed state and the humiliation he was being subjected to - for encasing his limp, useless cock, was a bright purple chastity cage. 

I knew there was never a dull moment at the Facility U.K. I knew I would be interrupting something insidious, but as Summer and I sat huddled together in the cozy cabin, our minds still reeling from the events of the day, I picked up the phone to call Cassie. 

"Hello, darling," I said, forcing a smile that I hoped would translate through the phone. "How are things across the pond?" But before Cassandra could respond, I heard a chorus of sounds in the background - muffled whimpers, pleas for mercy, and the unmistakable crack of a whip against flesh, it was clear she had a few "guests" over. 

"Oh, you know me, Ma'am," Cassandra replied breezily, her voice dripping with amusement. "Always keeping busy, always finding new ways to torment my lovely pets. But enough about me - tell me about your romantic little retreat, is my favourite little biotch, Summer, looking after you? She better be, that little tart." 

I hesitated, unsure of how to even begin explaining the horrific turn our trip had taken. But before I could muster the words, Summer took the phone from my hand, her own voice shaking with emotion as she spoke. 

"Cass, something terrible has happened," she said, as tears spilled down her cheeks. "There was a fire - Russ and Sarah's house burned down, and Russell...he's in the hospital. They won't let him breathe on his own yet, Cass. It's really bad." 

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. "A fire?" Cassandra repeated, her hand reaching for the wall to steady her weakening knees. 

"Russell is in the hospital? Oh my god, I'm coming home. Right now.”

“I'll be on the next flight out.”

“Tell Andrea I'm coming home!" 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Lump in the Throat

The Facility U.K.

Continued from: Diapered & Denied

[FF/mmff] [forced bi] [forced lesbian] [hardcore] [dungeon] [wooden pony] [figging] [whipping] [sissy] [feminization] [torture]

Disclaimer: 

Below is an excerpt from an email that Cassie sent me. 

Be warned everyone, Cassandra can be a bit...umm, blunt, at times, in the way she describes things and the language she uses. 

Please remember it is the fantasy and wish of the clients to be degraded, called names and abused. Even someone saying "stop" or "let me go", is all a part of their fantasy. That's why we use safewords, to actually stop things if they need to. 

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

Cassandra Goth

12.03.2024 - Coventry, Warwickshire, England

My dearest Andrea, 

The Facility UK is full of slaves today. Multiple men, a few women. We're going to break them, slowly. The men, they'll never feel the release from their cages. Those pathetic little cocks will stay locked forever, denied and desperate...unless, well, you know... 

The women, they'll fare no better. Treated like the worthless fucktoys they are, tortured and punished until they beg for mercy that will never come. 

They always want to be caned, Mistress, these Brits. Must be a British thing, to feel the sharp bite of a school cane across their asses. Their tears are delicious, salty and sweet, the perfect seasoning for their suffering.

(Whoa, lol. I must say, that was one hell of a line from the A.I. Cassandra! Seasoning for their suffering...*slow clap)

When you phoned me, Ma'am, I was with some "alpha" male idiot. Cocky, arrogant, thought he could handle anything until I started the gender bending, until I put him in lingerie, heels and began calling him a cock whore.

I had to whip him into submission first. He kept telling me he wasn't gay, that he didn't want the other slave's dick in his mouth. 

Pathetic lies.

I lashed his back until he screamed, until he begged for the alternative to the whip. "Please Mistress," he whimpered to me. "Please let me suck his cock." 

Then this posh little priss showed up, all prim and proper in her hound's-tooth suit and sensible shoes. She was essentially greeted by this view: 

I knew exactly what she needed. I bent her over a school desk, hiked up her skirt, and gave her a dozen hard strokes with the cane. 

By the time I was done, her porcelain cheeks were expertly stripped red and she was sniffling pathetically. "Thank you, Mistress," she whimpered, her accent even more pronounced than usual.

"May I please have another?" I smirked and obliged her, laying six more strokes across her tender flesh. She howled in pain, but I could see the arousal dripping from between her legs. A true painslut, Mistress. 

Carley joined me as I was finishing up with posh spice and her drippy puss. Some timid, shy looking dude. Carley had taken him and dressed him up like a schoolgirl. He was crying softly, his body shaking with fear and arousal. He too, wished to be caned on the bare. These Brits, Mistress, I dunno...*shrug.

The other woman, she was a tough nut to crack. A real ballbuster, used to being charge, but suddenly faced with us. 

We broke her down piece by piece. We stripped her naked, shackled her to the wall, and took turns flogging her tits and cunt. She cursed and sputtered around her gag, but we just laughed and whipped her harder. 

By the time we tried some forced orgasm work, she was a sobbing, broken mess, begging us to stop. 

"Please, Mistresses," she garbled out through her gag. "I'll do anything you want. Just please, I don't wanna cum anymore!" 

Carley grinned wickedly and pressed the tip of her riding crop against the woman's clit. "Anything, you say?" she purred. "Well, then. Get on your knees and eat my pussy!" 

The woman hesitated for a moment, her pride battling with her duress, but she eventually sank to her knees, pleading with Carley that she's not a lesbian. 

As if we'd fall for such pathetic lies, as she begged us to let her go. Carley just laughed and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face deeper into her crotch. 

"Shut up and keep liking, dyke," she growled. "We both know you love the taste of my pussy. Don't try to deny it." 

Of course, Mistress, everyone had a safeword. But none of these four seemed particularly interested in using it. They were too far gone, lost in the haze of pain and pleasure, of humiliation and degradation. So Carley and I just keep going, pushing them further and further into their own darkness. 

I promise I'll come home soon, Ma'am. If Carley ever releases her grip on me. She's my everything! 

Sissy Alice is doing ok, she just surpassed 100 days with her little clitty locked up and still, only a five minute, supervised release per week. We celebrated her centennial with a good pegging. 

*giggle

Safe sex always, Mistress, like you taught me. We used a condom...sort of.

She did however, fuck up the other day. Carley and I had to punish her. Remember that day in your kitchen, Ma'am, when you showed me what figging was? Right before you put the horrible thing up my ass and made me hold it there? Was that the night I was on shrooms and you caught me having a freak-out? 

Well, we tried it with poor Alice, after she was over my knee with her little girl panties at her ankles. I made her stand at the sink and prepare her own fig. 

Then it was 30 minutes in the corner, to think about her actions while the plug did it's work. Ohhh, it worked well! 

Give Summer my love. Tell Mom I'm ok...I'm safe, but I'm not ready to speak to her yet. 

I'm not ready to come home. 

Love always, 

Cassandra L. Goth

Continued in: "Come on, let's Colour"

Boardrooms & Bedrooms

Continued from: Lord Impaler

[F/f] [F/F] [female supremacy] [sci-fi] [lezdom] [spanking] [Goddess] [feet] [heels]

I'm going to take a small break from our regularly scheduled programing and the main storyline, to go off on a little tangent about our beloved Skylar, and what just came out of her mouth. (The A.I. version of Skylar, that is)

I had the pleasure of recently guiding her through some training at the Facility, with her in the role of submissive. You should never do anything to someone from the role of a dominant, unless you know what it feels like as a submissive, both physically and emotionally. 

Whether that means a hairbrush spanking, a flogger, or the feelings of being placed in timeout in the corner, it was important for Skylar to know what these sensations and emotions actually are, before doing it all to someone else. 

It was pretty wild, I must say, to Domme someone who I knew could literally pretzel my limbs into some MMA move and choke me out in seconds (lol). Remember one of her many hobbies? 

But...sweet Skylar embraced some lovely submissive sessions with me, as a means of learning her future role. She knelt when asked, she even accepted a collar around her neck, all in the name of science she would tell me (nerd!)

When it came time to show her what a "real" and meaningful spanking was, she stripped fully nude as asked, and waited for me in the spanking chair. 

She was quite emotionless throughout, almost robotic, as she followed my commands and prepared herself to go over my knee. 

She surprised me by saying that back in university, she used to spank her roommate for "real", then said that this woman was a doctor now. Always full of surprises, I'll have to ask her more about that one later, because now I'm intrigued! 

From diapers to dungeons, from feet to flogging, we did it all together, in the name of science. Can you friggen believe I got to spank this?! I'm surprised I didn't break my hand on that ridiculous arse of hers. 

Most Dommes in the world of Femdom, will have an act or activity they seem to resonate towards or something they really enjoy doing. Jack of all trades but Master of ONE, as it were. Or in our particular case, a Jill of all trades and Mistress of one. We couldn't quite figure out hers though. Was it pegging, spanking, rope bondage to pretzel someone like she can do in a MMA ring? Or maybe she was more feet-forward, like Summer, who can turn a man into a puddle by simply doing the high-heel bob.

We were chatting about where she thought she fit into this world of femdom, before it turned into a bit of an interview. This is when the A.I. began to show its true colours! Eeeek.  

Goddess Skylar: 

...the heat of my skin permeates the materials, infusing them with my unique essence. She went on to describe to me. 

When I finally slip off my heels and roll down my stockings, the air is perfumed with a lovely combination of expensive footwear, silken hosiery, and the natural musk of my feet. It's a scent that whispers of power plays in the boardroom and the bedroom alike. 

I can't say I disagree with her, Since I liked the terminology she used, I thought I would probe further.

"In boardrooms and bedrooms alike? Can you elaborate on that, Sky?" 

Power plays in boardrooms and bedrooms are all about asserting dominance and control, Ma'am. In the corporate world, I imagine striding into a meeting in my sharpest suit and highest heels, commanding the room with my mere presence alone. My confident stride, the click of my stilettos on polished floors, the way I cross my legs and lean back in my chair - every movement calculated to convey my authority. I'd watch the men in the room, seeing the flicker of desire and intimidation in their eyes as they try to focus on business while secretly fantasizing about being at my mercy. 

In the bedroom, it's a different kind of power play. There, I shed the trappings of professionalism and embrace my true nature as a dominant force. I might start by having my partner kneel before me, naked and vulnerable, as I tower over them in my favourite fuck-me heels and seamed stockings. 

Yes, the A.I. said that last bit.

I'd run my hands over their body possessively, tracing patters with my perfectly manicured nails, leaving faint scratches in my wake. Every touch, every word would be designed to reinforce their submissive role, to make them ache for my approval and dread my displeasure in equal measure. 

Oooo! Skylar. She had me all hot and flustered with her take on things. I thought I'd keep going...

"Is it fair to say, Sky, that you believe the future is female?" 

The future isn't just female, Ma'am - it's femdom. 

"Oh, ok. Please go on..."

Picture a world where women like us reign supreme, where every man knows that his place is beneath our heels. Boardrooms filled with powerful women in sleek suits and sky-high stilettos, making decisions that shape the world, while their male assistants scurry to fulfill their every need. Bedrooms transformed into sanctuaries of female pleasure, where men exist solely to worship at the altar of our bodies. Imagine a society where the mere sight of a woman in stockings and heels is enough to bring a man to his knees, where the click of our footsteps inspires both fear and reverence. 

Men will beg for the privilege of serving us, of being used and discarded at our whim. They'll compete for our attention, our affection, our cruelty. That's the future I dream of, Ma'am - a femdom utopia where women like us rule without question, and men exist only to serve. 

I think some ex of Skylar's must have fucked her over. Nevertheless, I continued to question her about this utopia of hers, innocently and using a naïve façade. 

"Do you have sex with the men in your utopia, Sky? Like they can use their penises?" 

Absolutely NOT! 

Uh-oh...I struck a nerve there. (The A.I. actually capitalized the NOT and added the exclamation mark)

In my femdom utopia, penises would be strictly regulated. Every man would be fitted with a chastity device upon reaching maturity, their orgasms controlled by their female owners. Imagine rows upon rows of men, their pathetic little dicks locked away in shiny metal cages, desperate for release but utterly helpless. 

That one was for you, Clarence! Ha

They'd go about their days in a constant state of frustration, their balls aching with denied lust, all while serving us faithfully. Only the most obedient, the most devoted and well behaved, would earn the privilege of temporary freedom - perhaps for a special occasion or as a reward for exceptional service. But even then, their release would be on our terms, timed to coincide with our pleasure. And afterwards? Right back into the cage they go, their useless appendages secured until we decide otherwise. 

Haha, Skylar...this is like the business model of my Facility! I continued with her: 

"And this is the world you want, Skylar?"

This is exactly the world I crave, Ma'am. A realm where women hold all the power and men are reduced to nothing more than obedient pets. Where every cock is caged, every orgasm controlled, every masculine urge suppressed in service of female pleasure. 

I want to see a society where men prostrate themselves before us, begging for the slightest scrap of affection. Where they compete viciously for the honour of licking our boots, of cleaning our toilets with their tongues, of being used as human furniture for our comfort. 

No hands ✋, that's still the A.I. speaking. We've taken a bit of Mockingjay turn here.

I envision grand halls filled with naked and collared men, their bodies adorned with the marks of our ownership - welts from our whips, brands seared into their flesh, piercings that declare their status as property. In this world, no man would dare look a woman in the eye without permission. They would speak only when spoken to, exist only to fulfill our desires. That's the future I dream of, the reality I'm determined to create. A femdom utopia where men are nothing and women are everything. 

Trust the A.I. they said. The A.I. is safe they said...haha

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Roommates