Uniformity

Continued from: Is it Gay?

There had been quite a bit going on, leading up to the holidays, through the holidays, then Summer and I vacationing in France for a stint. In our absence, Cassandra let her wild-side shine through and had gone rogue. She was building a stable of sissy-slaves and doing God-knows-what to some other male clients of hers. I was feeling like I needed to right the vessel, restore some order and get back to the basics of what we do best at The Facility. 

"Good morning Mister! You're here for your spanking?" 

Could you imagine!!? The gut-twisting butterflies of being looked up and down by these women?

Some silly male, standing there fully naked in front of these four, covering his junk with his palms. His head would be lowered, occasionally glancing at their boots while feeling his face burn with embarrassment. The head-girl in all black, makes him choose which disciplinarian it will be for this session, herself included of course. They are equally strict, their scolding can reduce you to tears and each of them know exactly what you need.  

Uniformity. That's what I needed to restore at The Facility. Everything else would fall into place once order was regained through our high and tight conduct, professionalism, pride in one's appearance and attention to detail. No matter what language you speak, the appearance of uniformity is interpreted as authority. Once you walk through the doors of my Facility, you better believe that authority will be generously available.  

Summer was always at-the-ready to help with the clients. She brought along her bestie, Vanessa, or Goddess Vanessa as I like to call to her (major girl-crush of mine!). Cassandra...well...she needed a little more convincing to "get in line". 

Nothing that I couldn't handle though. She was definitely due, overdue even. A little too big for her britches as of late. 

I donned my very best, vintage "Mommy" look, dressed Cassandra like a little girl, and roasted her backside until she was sobbing uncontrollably. 

Tears, snot, mascara runs, and frantically trying to rub away the effects of my ebony hairbrush. Problem solved. Cassie was brought back under a bit more control. She told me a few days afterwards it was much needed.

With our new-found uniformity, working as a team and looking like a team, the girls and I got The Facility back on-track. Jan-March is a busy time of year for a Professional Disciplinarian. It's like my "tax season". Haha. Business was boomin'. 

Think about all the New Years resolutions, dry-Febs, new gym memberships and trendy diets. Many of my clients want my unique form of "extra motivation", to stick to their goals. Before long my Facility was once again buzzing with business. The sounds of straps and paddles meeting bare flesh could be heard behind the closed doors. Female voices cracking and crying out, "I'm sorry, Ma'am," and the bass of male voices bawling out "Mommy, nooooo!"

Domestic scenes, writing lines on a chalkboards, mouth soaping, office scenes, we did it all. 

Noses were once again in corners, right where they belong!

We were once again doing the world a service, for those strong enough to admit and seek-out what they know they need. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: 50 Shades of Red

 

  

 

Beautiful Brainwashing Pt. 2

Continued from: Beautiful Brainwashing Pt. 1

A Sarah Jane story 

In my last post I blogged about my initial experience in the "shoe closet", which is the fetish room at Mistress Andrea's Facility, exclusively dedicated to foot worship. I use the term "initial experience" because the torture and torment I was enduring had only just begun. 

Miss Summer and Miss Vanessa, both dressed as Flight Attendants, had me gagged and bound to a chair with a remote vibrator up my pussy. I was being forced to watch a slideshow of women's feet, women's footwear and women's feet in bondage, all while the vibrator pulsed and buzzed inside me. 

Essentially I was being forced to orgasm, while looking at images of feet. I thought it must have been some sick, twisted manner of slave conditioning. Forcing me to associate my own pleasure with something I don't find pleasurable...feet!

Apparently Mistress Andrea does a similar conditioning program with male slaves. I learned about it in my junior school classes. Tactics like only unlocking a male's penis to masturbate or edge him, if he sucks a realistic dildo for her. Or only unlocking his penis for a hand job, if he's fully dressed like a sissy girl. Powerful stuff!

After my second shuddering orgasm, directly into my panties, maybe their tactic was starting to work and break me down. Maybe they were altering my mind a little. Some of these images were undeniably gorgeous! 

 

What I also began to notice and appreciate, was how much some styles of female footwear, emulate the look of bondage. Is that done on purpose? To deliberately or subtly display a female to the rest of the world as confined and bound, beginning with her feet? Or is it just to sexualize the feet? 

That might be too political and too deep for me to comprehend right now, certainly when there is a vibrator trapped in my pussy. 

Quite sexy I must say. A look that belongs in a BDSM dungeon as much as it belongs at a courtyard bistro. 

Before I had the chance to embarrassingly and shamefully cum a third time, to feet porn, the vibrations ended and the slideshow monitor darkened. Summer and Vanessa returned to the room and removed my gag and bondage. I was mortified when she reached for the toy in my pussy, having to negotiate the gusset of my panties which were drenched at this point. 

I was knelt before the pair of them and Summer used me as a seat. 

"How do you feel?" Summer asked me. 

I replied that I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that I was forced to cum to images of female feet. 

She then encouraged me to cradle her high heel with my hands, and rest my lips against her gold anklet that encircled her nylons. 

While I was still in a kneel, Summer told me to unfasten the ankle straps of her heels and slip them off her feet. Vanessa moved in closer so I could undo her heels also. I was forced to rest my nose inside the high heel of Summer and manually masturbate to orgasm. Despite my gut-churning humiliation, I came almost instantly before my head was moved into Vanessa's high heel, so I could repeat the degrading process again. 

With my body still trembling from the orgasms, I was laid prone on my back, as they took turns resting and running their nylon soles over my mouth and nose. There was a dampness I could feel in the nylon and definitely a scent, but not an unpleasant one. 

I spent the next few hours kissing and licking their hosed feet and toes, their shoes and even a pair of boots that Vanessa put on. Their feet were not dirty, nor was their footwear, but I felt dirty and degraded by performing these acts. Dirty and degraded enough that my pussy remained soaked throughout this whole ordeal! *Sigh

In the time I spent in the "shoe closet", I had gained a new-found appreciation for just how sexy a woman can be, below the knees, if she puts the effort in. Vanessa and Summer's feet are absolutely pristine. I learned about the use of toe rings, nail polish, anklets and hosiery. All things they told me I would need to know, before I ever make it to the upper floor.  

Summer wrote me a proper report card of my experience in the shoe closet. I had to take the report card to the Headmaster for review. I think she had been overly gracious with my grades. 

Categories like eagerness and enthusiasm I got a B minus when I probably should have earned a D! I'll have to thank Summer later, if I had a D on my report card I wouldn't be sitting comfortably for a week and I'd likely be demoted back to diapers and onesies. 

Nevertheless, I was still punished. I am required to achieve straight A's only. The Headmaster had me spend 30 minutes in timeout, in just my bra with socks and shoes while he prepared a note to take home to my "Daddy". 

(Which is funny because it's the same person playing both roles! *blush) 

I'm not sure what the note said when I passed it to Daddy, but it must have rhymed with "Daddy's Belt". I got a good lickin' over his knee when I got “home”. Over my skirt first, over my panties and then on the bare. 

When my belt strapping ended, I watched as Daddy placed the final gold star on my chart, under the category of "feet appreciation". I wiped my tears and hugged him, thanking him for consequencing me and the promotion to "senior school". 

Finally, I was going to be free of this room and upgrade to a "big girl's" room and big girl's bed. I was excited! 

I thought I better thank Daddy, before jammies and bed and possibly...the last night spent in this frilly, pink room.

Thank you Daddy. 

Sarah Jane 

xoxo

Continued in: "Big-Girl Room"