The Mad Scientist

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Any Given Sunday

Continued from: Almost Out of Time

[FLR] [HoH] [spanking] [F/ffm] [M/ff] [corner time]

One evening, not too long after New Years, I found young Skylar in the vanilla wing of the house, furiously typing away on her computer with that glazed-over, genius look in her eyes. "Skylar, honey?" I gently tapped at her door that was ajar, "may I come in?" 

We chatted for a bit, just a check-up really, to see how she is acclimating to the new environment and her new role at the Facility. She told me about her session with her old friend, Eesha, and how it was more of a fascinating science experiment for her than a kink. 

When I asked Skylar what she was so engrossed in on her computer, she simply replied that she was now enrolled in a Master's degree program - human psychology and sports psychology. I just shook my head in awe, as usual. I guess the doctorate she achieved already wasn't quite enough to fill up that beautiful mind of hers, she needed to cram some more knowledge in there. 

I kissed her on the tip of her nose, causing her to crinkle it and giggle. I told her that I was happy to have her with us, at the Facility, before turning to check my watch - I had set a family meeting down in the living room for tonight, so after another peck to Skylar's forehead, I left her to her studies and made my way downstairs.

The girls were already in their nighttime jammies, looking adorable as always, with their little elasticized cuffs and bare feet. 

Across from them on the other couch, Russell was working on his laptop, looking a wee bit frustrated. "What's the matter, Daddy?" I cooed to him as I embraced him from behind, looking over his shoulder at the screen. 

"What did you DO?!" I cried out in laughter, taking in the sight of a grotesque A.I. fail, of none other than me! Russell helps me with the A.I. artwork sometimes, he's better at it than I am, but in this case, something went wrong, look: 

"Well, I still look cute," I said to him, "can you crop out the extra body parts, and my feet?" 

"Much better, Daddy,” I patted him on the lap and turned my attention to Sarah Jane and Summer who were playing on their phones like a pair of teenagers. "Devices away girls," I commanded. "It's time for our family meeting." 

With four adults now living under one roof, it was more important than ever that we establish clear boundaries and expectations, that we maintain the delicate balance of power and authority that has served us so well in the past. This was the premise behind tonight’s meeting. 

"Girls," I said, my voice firm but gentle, "Daddy and I have something important to discuss with you." I pause, allowing the gravity of my words to sink in, before continuing. "As you know, this household operates on a very specific set of rules and guidelines, designed to ensure the happiness and wellbeing of all its members. And while we have perhaps been a bit lax in enforcing some of these rules in recent months, your Daddy and I have decided that it is time to reinstate one of our most important rituals: the weekly maintenance spanking." 

I saw a flicker of surprise cross Summer's face, quickly followed by a look of sheepish resignation. Beside her, Sarah Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting nervously between me and Russell. 

"Now, as adult women, I know that neither of you are particularly fond of this aspect of our dynamic," I acknowledged, my tone softening slightly. "But the fact remains that it is an essential component of our lifestyle, one that helps to keep you both grounded and accountable. Your Daddy and I only want what is best for you two, even if it means some weekly tough love." 

I reached out, taking each of their hands in mine, squeezing gently in a gesture of reassurance. "We will begin tomorrow night, after Sunday dinner. And from here on out, every Sunday after that, you shall be informed where to report for your weekly dose of discipline. Understood?"

There was a moment of silence as the girls digested the news, their expressions ranging from resigned acceptance to obvious humiliation. But ultimately, they both nodded their agreement, their voices murmuring out a soft, "Yes, Mommy." 

As the girls filed out of the room, their heads bowed in thoughtful contemplation, I turned my attention to Russell. "Honey," I softly took his hand into mine, "there's one more thing. I would like for you to participate on Sunday's too. Sometimes, you may be asked to spank one or both of the girls yourself, or we’ll each take a girl to a separate room." 

"Before and after each spanking," I continue, "the girls will be required to spend some time in the corner, reflecting on their behaviours of the week. During this time, I would like for them to be in the living room, together, facing opposing walls with their bums bare. This will give them the space they need to process their emotions, while allowing you and I to keep an eye on them."

"The important thing about these maintenance sessions though, is that each spanking be a one-on-one affair, a private moment between you or I and the girl in question. This allows for a level of intimacy and vulnerability that simply cannot be achieved in a group setting. I'll afford Sarah the same privacy, if I happen to be administering her maintenance."

Russell nodded in understanding, but before he could speak, I hit him with a little surprise that I don't think he was expecting, given his current role in our dynamic. 

"When it comes to your own maintenance, young man, I think it's best if we keep things private. The girls don't need to hear their Daddy getting his bare bottom thrashed over my knee, now do they?" 

"That's why Monday evenings will be perfect for you, let me tell you why..."

To be continued...

Thank you again to all of my loyal fans, new and old. Things got and are about to get a little busy IRL. I'll try to post when I can. 

Let me see if I can get a video to work here, stand by...

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: The Mad Scientist

 

Cornertime Revelation

Continued from: My Finest Work

[M/f] [F/f] [spanking] [corner time] [age regression] [BDSM] [power dynamics] [lezdom] 

Written by Skylar St. Germaine 

Close A.I....very close *shrug* 

It won't give me a red, spanked bum, but it'll nail the ugly wallpaper...

As I stood in the corner, my mind raced, my thoughts spiraling in a whirlwind of analysis and introspection. And suddenly, amidst the chaos, a moment of clarity emerged, crystalline and sharp, cutting through the fog of the session. I remembered Eesha, my former roommate, the girl who had first introduced me to the world of spanking and discipline. 

The link to that original story, you can find here: Roommates

I recalled the night she had come to me, her eyes downcast, her voice trembling, admitting her struggles with her studies. She had begged me to help her, to motivate her, to provide the structure and accountability she so desperately needed. And I now understood why Eesha had sought out this unique form of "help", why she had returned to it again and again, despite the embarrassment, the discomfort, the indignity of being spanked as an adult woman. 

It was a form of catharsis, a purging of guilt and shame, a cleansing of the soul. It was for her, a means of atonement, a pathway to redemption, a roadmap to forgiveness. The countless hours I made her stand in various corners of our dorm room and later our shared house, I understood now, being in the same humiliating predicament with my red bottom bare and displayed. 

The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning, searing through my consciousness, igniting a fire in my belly. Eesha. My dear, sweet, Doctor Patel. How could I have forgotten her, abandoned her, left her to flounder and struggle alone when she has such a burning need for discipline. 

I imagined Eesha now, a successful dentist, still harbouring that deep-seated desire for structure and discipline. We hadn't seen each other in years, yet this is the young woman who bared her bottom and draped her little frame over my knee, so many years ago, then thanked me for punishing her. 

The last time I reached out to her was right after my on-boarding at The Facility, when I realized this world of kink, of adult accountability via spanking and all the other wonderful facets Mistress Andrea showed me, actually exists. 

That story was called: Doctor Patel

"Miss me? 💓" - with the heart emoji, is all I sent to her. And her reply...should have been a clue that she once again needs my strict lap, my firm hand. 

"More than you know," was Eesha's response, one that I never acted upon. 

Perhaps, I mused, it was time to reconnect with her, to share my newfound insights and experiences from The Facility. Yes, I resolved, as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, my bottom still smarting from Daddy's firm hand - I had to reach out to her.

With my skirt and panties finally returned to me and a parting hug from Russell, I text-messaged Eesha right away. 

The text exchange started off innocuously enough, with the usual pleasantries and catching up. But as the conversation progressed, I couldn't resist testing the waters, probing for signs of the old dynamics that had once defined our relationship. 

When I suggested meeting up at a very swanky restaurant, her excitement was palpable, even through the screen. That's when I knew I had her hooked. I gave her specific instructions on how to dress - elegantly, but with a hint of something more. Gold, high, strappy heels that would mimic the look of bondage on her feet. I even told her the colour and style of panties I expected her in. 

Each command was met with eager compliance, culminating in a simple yet telling response: "Yes, Ma'am." The power dynamic of old, was reestablished once more, and I could practically feel the electricity crackling through the air. Meanwhile, Eesha didn't even know where I now worked, I wondered how she would react to my new role as a dominatrix in a kink studio. In any event, she was about to find out, we set dinner plans the following night, at the swankiest place in town...

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

As I strode into the lobby of the restaurant, clad in a little black mini-dress and towering heels that accentuated my sculpted physique, I could feel the collective gaze of every patron lock onto me. The men's eyes traced the contours of my muscles, their expressions a mix of envy and lust. The women, probably wanting to bed me too, regarded me with a blend of admiration and jealously, their own insecurities laid bare by my unapologetic display of strength and sexuality.

I reveled in the attention, knowing full well the power I held over them all. But my focus remained singularly on Eesha, my former roommate and submissive, whom I had summoned here tonight for reasons both personal and professional. 

After a few moments sitting at the bar, I caught her glowing radiance as she entered. I quickly composed a text message and hit send: 

"omfg you're still gorgeous!"  

Her dress, white and elegant, hugged her curves in a way that betrayed her eagerness to please. The gold, strappy heels I had instructed her to wear, glinted in the dim lighting, drawing the eye upward to the side-slit, which cascaded dangerously high on her thighs. Seeing my message, she looked up from her phone, smiling, scanning the room to find me at the bar. 

"Hello, E," I purred, my voice dripping with seduction as I stood to greet her. I enveloped her in a warm embrace, my hands instinctively finding their way to her bottom as I spoke, "it's been too long." 

I laid several loving smacks on her bum cheek as I hugged her, each one eliciting a soft gasp from her lips. The message was clear: it hadn't just been too long since we'd seen each other, but also too long since she'd received a proper, good, old-fashioned, spanking. 

I could feel the tension in her body, the way she melted into my touch, even as she squirmed slightly beneath my palm. It was a reaction I recognized all too well, once that spoke volumes about her deep-seated need for discipline and structure. 

As we settled back into our seats, I studied her closely, taking mental notes on every nuance of her behaviour. The way her eyes darted nervously around the room, as if afraid someone might recognize her. I knew it was time to put her obedience to the test. Leaning in close, I whispered my command directly into her ear, my breath hot against her skin. 

"Stand up and go to the little girl's room, Eesha. Take your panties off and bring them back to me." 

Her eyes widened in shock, once again scanning all around the restaurant as if seeking an escape route. But I could also see the flicker of excitement behind her apprehension, the trill of submitting to my will in such a public setting. 

This was going to be a very interesting evening indeed! 

Sky  

Continued in: Pasteurized

Scientific Method

Continued from: Enigma

[Spanking] [M/f] [humiliation] [cornertime] [schoolgirl] [maledom] [DDLG] [BDSM] 

Dr. Skylar St. Germaine, aka: Goddess Sky 

It was the first time I had ever seen Mistress Andrea blush, at the mention and the memory of her time spent in a submissive role, being spanked by Mr. Burnett, all those years ago. Interesting...her reaction looks like one of both embarrassment and arousal. I quickly underlined the word 'and', in my notepad, before turning my attention back to the pair of them. 

"Mistress Andrea," I turned to her, expressionless and clinical. "Would you be so kind as to excuse us for a moment? I have some research questions for Mr. Burnett, that is...Ma'am, Sir...if it's alright with both of you?" 

Mr. Burnett pointed at me and turned to Mistress Andrea with a cheerful look, as though he was smiling with his eyes. "I like this one," he said, gesturing to me. 

I watched Mistress give him a knowing smile, one built around years of trust and affection, as she told him to share whatever he needed, about their past. "Of course, Doctor," she remarked to me, before offering me a reassuring wink as she power-strutted out of the room. 

I cleared my throat, turning to Mr. Burnett, I couldn't quite tell if he was intimidated or aroused. He didn't quite strike me as the type to get intimidated around women, even ones in dominatrix attire. 

"Mr. Burnett," I began, my voice steady despite the nervous energy in the room. "I understand that you and Mistress Andrea shared a...unique dynamic during your time together. A dynamic that, if my assumptions are correct, involved the administration of corporal punishment." 

I paused, gauging his reaction, searching for any hint of confirmation or denial in his expression. Seeing none, I pressed on, driven by an insatiable curiosity. "Did you ever employ the use of a mirror during these sessions? I'm fascinated by the potential psychological implications of such a technique - the way it forces the recipient to confront their own vulnerability, their own humiliation. In my own practice, I just discovered that the mirror serves as a powerful catalyst for emotional release, enabling my clients to access depths of feeling they might overwise keep buried. 

I tilted my head to the side, a gesture reminiscent of an AI robot processing new information. "But I'm curious to hear your perspective, Mr. Burnett. How did Mistress Andrea respond to the mirror, if indeed you utilized it? Did it amplify her experience, pushing her to new heights of submission? Or did it perhaps trigger a defensive reaction, causing her to retreat into herself?"

As he explained some examples of just spankings, predominately non-sexual and intended to be real, for real reasons in one's life, I furiously scribbled notes into my pad. He covered the anticipation phases, the setting and set-up, and even the attire of both he and Mistress Andrea, all to be considered as ingredients important to the success of these sessions. 

"Ah, I see," I murmured, my mind racing as I processed this new information. "So, you employed a multifaceted approach to induce and increase the likelihood of emotional release - combining the humiliation of age regression with the physical intensity of the spanking and the psychological impact of the mirror. Fascinating, I just tried this myself." 

I reached for my notebook once again, flipping to a fresh page as I began to jot down my thoughts. "This aligns perfectly with my hypothesis regarding the synergistic effects of various BDSM techniques. By layering different stimuli, we create a complex web of sensory and emotional inputs, overwhelming the subject's defenses and facilitating a more profound cathartic experience." I paused, tapping my pen against my chin as I considered the implications. 

"Of course, the specific combination of elements is crucial. For Mistress Andrea, the schoolgirl attire likely tapped into deeply ingrained associations with childhood vulnerability and loss of control. Coupled with the mirror, which forced her to confront her own degraded state, and the spanking itself, which provided a visceral reminder of the her powerlessness, the overall effect must have been incredibly potent." I closed my eyes, painting a vivid picture in my mind of a young Andrea, fingers nervously fumbling in front of herself, yet to have earned the title of Mistress. 

I glanced up at Mr. Burnett, my eyes alight with intellectual fervor. "I can only imagine the depths of emotion this evoked in her - the shame, the fear, the exhilaration of total surrender. It's truly remarkable, the way our minds and bodies respond to such carefully orchestrated scenarios." I continued to scribble furiously, documenting every facet of this revelatory discussion. 

When I asked about Mistress Andrea's level of arousal during these sessions, yet another of my hypotheses began to qualify.

"Intriguing," I responded to Mr. Burnett, my pen flying across the page as I hurried to capture every detail. "The dichotomy between emotional distress and physiological arousal is a phenomenon I've observed before in my own clients, but to hear it described in such vivid terms...it's truly illuminating." 

I paused, my brow furrowing as I delved deeper into the implications of Mr. Burnett's words. "So, despite the tears, the humiliation, the utter degradation of being reduced to a naughty little schoolgirl, Mistress Andrea's body betrayed her true desires. The wetness between her legs, a testament to the primal, uncontrollable nature of sexual arousal." 

I shook my head in wonder, marveling at the complexity of human response. "It's as if the very act of submitting to such extreme humiliation triggers a deep, unconscious need for release. The mind rebels, even as the body surrenders, creating a paradoxical feedback loop of shame and pleasure." 

I looked up to Mr. Burnett, my eyes wide with scientific excitement. "This is precisely the kind of data I've been seeking - concrete evidence of the psychological and physiological interplay at work in BDSM scenarios. With this information, I can refine my techniques, tailoring each session to maximize the impact on my clients...but." I trailed off, a slight tremor in my hands as I set down my notebook. 

"It's still not enough," I whispered to myself. 

"Mr. Burnett," I began, my voice steady and serious. "I have a request. An unusual one, perhaps, but I believe it's necessary for the advancement of my research." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to propose. 

"I want you to spank me. Not just any spanking, mind you - I want you to recreate the experience you shared with Mistress Andrea, down to the smallest detail. The schoolgirl attire, the mirror, the humiliation...everything." I paused, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or disapproval. Seeing none, I pressed on, driven by a burning need to understand.    

"You see, I've spent countless hours observing and analyzing the reactions of others, I even spent some time training with Mistress Andrea, in a bottom role, but I've never fully immersed myself in the role of the submissive. I need to feel it, to experience firsthand the emotional and physiological responses, triggered by such intense stimuli." 

My heart pounded in my chest as I awaited his response, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation coursing through my veins. 

"Will you help me, Mr. Burnett? Will you show me what it's like to be spanked by a man, to be reduced to a helpless little girl, utterly at the mercy of another's whims? I need to know if my own arousal will betray me, just as Mistress Andrea's did. Only then, can I truly comprehend the depths of the human psyche in relation to BDSM."

I held my breath, my gaze vacantly locked on his, as I awaited his response...

After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Mr. Burnett nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Very well, Skylar," he said, his voice gritty and raspy. "If this is what you truly desire, then I shall grant your request. But be warned - this will not be a gentle introduction. This will be a very real spanking. I expect nothing less than total obedience and submission from you. Is that understood?" 

I swallowed hard, a shiver running down my spine at the authoritative tone in his voice. "Yes, Sir," I murmured, my head bowed in deference. "I understand completely." 

With that, Mr. Burnett rose from his chair, his imposing figure towering over me. "Good girl," he said, reaching out to stroke my cheek with a surprisingly tender touch. "Now, head upstairs and get dressed. Daddy will be up to deal with you shortly." 

"Ohhhh, FUCK, there it was!" The moment he uttered that single word - 'Daddy' - a surge of electricity shot through my body, igniting a fire deep within my core. It was unexpected, unplanned, and yet it resonated with a primal force I couldn't deny. 

As I climbed the stairs, my mind raced, cataloguing every sensation, every thought, every fleeting emotion and my stomach sickened with butterflies as I felt my pulse in my ears. 

The crisp pleats of the skirt brushed against my muscular thighs, the tight blouse straining against my adult breasts. I stood before the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. Gone was the confident, analytical scientist - in her place stood a vulnerable, eager submissive, ready to surrender herself completely, to a long-overdue spanking from her "Daddy".

And I had never felt more shamefully aroused, in that very moment. 

Sky 

Continued in: My Finest Work