Family Meeting

Continued from: There Must be Order

As I stood before my family, my heart swelled with a sense of purpose and determination. I knew that I had to establish the rules and boundaries of our unique dynamic, to ensure that we could all coexist harmoniously under one roof. I took a deep breath, my gaze sweeping over Summer and Sarah Jane, who sat obediently on the floor like two little girls waiting for story time. 

"I am Mommy or Ma'am," I declared, my voice ringing out calmly, my eyes boring into each of them in turn, daring them to challenge my authority. "And Russell is Daddy or Sir," I paused, watching as the girl's faces lit up with arousing delight. 

"That makes us sisters!" Summer whispered into Sarah's ear while the two of them giggled. 

I cut their antics short, "there will be rules," I stated, my voice carrying a note of finality, leaving no room for argument or negotiation. "And as always, strict consequences for those who fail to abide by them," I gazed down at the girls yet again, ensuring that they understood the gravity of my words.

"This applies to everyone," I added, my eyes glaring briefly to Russell, my eyebrow raised pointedly. I knew that he, too, needed to be held accountable, to understand that his role as Daddy came with its own set of obligations and limitations. He would not be immune to my consequences by virtue of his dominant title and role within our dynamic. 

"As much as I love you both and have assumed the role of head-of-household," I said, my voice warm and affectionate as I addressed Sarah Jane and Summer, "it is important that you understand that Daddy has disciplinary authority over you as well. He is your protector, your guide and your mentor, and it is his duty to ensure that you behave in a manner befitting of the young ladies you are."

I let my words sink in, watching as their eyes widened with a mix of excitement and arousal. "To that end," I continued, "Daddy's belt will always be hung on the back of his bedroom door, serving as a constant reminder of his authority and your obligation to obey him, much like my hairbrush, which is always displayed on my dresser." 

I could see the colour rising in their cheeks, their breath quickening at the mention of the belt, and I knew that the thought of being disciplined by Daddy held a certain sexual appeal for them both. 

"But remember," I cautioned, my tone growing stern, "punishment in this household is not a game, nor is it something to be taken lightly. You two are no strangers to being over Mommy's knee, what have I always told you two about punishment spankings?" 

The girls looked a bit puzzled, trying to remember the various rules and mantras that accompanied all the facets of a D/s lifestyle. 

"Daddy, help them out, please," I urged. 

"A true spanking doesn't begin, until you're wishing it was over," Russell declared out loud, his voice gritty and raspy. 

"Yes, Mommy," Sarah Jane and Summer chimed in unison, their faces filled with a combination of arousal and dread. I could see the wheels turning in their minds, no doubt conjuring up vivid fantasies of being bent over Daddy's knee, their tender bottoms and glistening pussies bared and vulnerable for all to see. 

I knew that the thought of being disciplined by him, of submitting to his firm yet loving guidance, was enough to send shivers of anticipation surging through their bodies, their panties dampening with arousal at the mere prospect. 

With a gentle wave of my hand, I dismissed Sarah Jane and Summer, sending them off to play in Sarah Jane's room. "Go on now, you two," I encouraged, my voice warm and indulgent. "Go off and colour or play dolls, but remember - keep your clothes on and hands to yourselves!" They nodded obediently and gave us both hugs, one by one. 

"Thank you Mommy, thank you Daddy," they both sweetly cooed, before scampering off, their excited laughter echoing through the hallway as they disappeared up the stairs. 

I watched them go with a fond smile, my heart swelling with love and pride for our little unconventional family. 

But there was still one more matter to attend to, one more piece of business that required my immediate attention, given all the temptation that was swirling and brewing in the home like a humid storm. Turning back to Russell, I held out my hand, the rigid black chastity cage balancing menacingly in my palm as I worked the gold key into the lock to separate the two pieces. 

"I believe it's time for us to have a little chat about the autonomy of that penis of yours...or lack of autonomy, rather." 

His eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks as he realized what I had in store for him. 

"Come here, darling," I commanded softly, undoing his jeans and hiking them down to his ankles. "It's not that I don't trust you, Russell," I spoke softly as I worked the base ring around his testicles. "It's those two I don't trust," smiling and gesturing to the staircase that the girls just scampered up. 

"Now," I explained, as I fitted the inescapable tube over his flaccid shaft, "this isn't a permanent fixture. I am going to be holding both of these gold keys but that doesn't mean you'll never be unlocked. You may ask me to unlock you anytime, Sarah Jane can too, but there might be terms that come along with such freedom." 

Russell dutifully replied with a "yes, Ma'am," as I locked the brass mechanism and retained both of the keys. 

"Gold, huh?" Russell remarked, as he surveyed the two keys in my palm. 

"Yes, huni, gold suits you," I praised with affection. "And something tells me, 2025 is going to be a golden year for us."  

"Now be a darling and go run a bath for me, there's a 1997 Knight's Valley in the cellar, a glass of that as well please..."

"Oh...and on your way to the en suite, 'Daddy,' tell the girls to stop jumping on Sarah's bed," I smiled and winked at him as he said, "yes, Ma'am," before hurrying off. 

"Daddy, look what I can do," Summer's cheerful voice echoed down the staircase. 

I giggled to myself and shook my head at the absurdness of our new family and its dynamics, imagining the possibilities of the coming year.  

I think this will be a golden year for us indeed. I'm looking forward to all the great things we'll get up to in 2025! 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

  

There Must be Order

Continued from: It Will Heal

As the front door closed behind Bella and Cassandra, I allowed myself a moment to reflect on the events of the past few hours, on the emotional rollercoaster that I just guided them through. Spanked, humiliated, but reconciled. I felt a sense of satisfaction, of accomplishment, knowing that Cassandra was going to stay with her mom for a few days, before coming back to see Summer and I for an inevitable, tearful goodbye, before she returns to the U.K. 

But my reverie was short-lived, interrupted by the sound of giggles and chatter emanating from the foyer. I turned to see Summer, Sarah Jane and Russell entering the house, their arms laden with shopping bags, the girl's faces flushed with excitement and enthusiasm. 

"We're back!" Summer announced, her voice bubbling with energy. "And you won't believe what we found! The cutest little outfits for Sarah, we actually found an adult baby store."

And some really kinky fetish wear too, stuff that'll make Daddy drool!" She giggled, shooting Russell a playful wink, which he returned with a sheepish grin, his cheeks colouring at the mention of his desires.   

Sarah Jane, for her part, seemed almost giddy with anticipation, bouncing on the balls of her little sneakers, her eyes sparkling with delight. 

"Can we try stuff on, Mommy?" Summer asked me, her voice breathless with eagerness. "Please, please, pretty please?" 

"I want us to model our outfits for you and Daddy!" Sarah added, equally as enthused. 

"Of course, sweetheart," I replied, my tone warm and affectionate. "Why don't you and Summer take the bags upstairs and start sorting through your new treasures? I'll join you in a moment, once Russell and I have some grown-up conversation." 

Sarah squealed with joy, grabbing several of the bags from Summer's hands and raced up the stairs with Summer hot on her heels. As they disappeared from view, I turned my attention to Russell, my expression softening, my gaze lingering on his handsome face, on the lines and contours that I once knew so intimately. 

"This feels right, doesn't it, our little unconventional family?" I murmured to him, reaching out to caress the back of his neck into a warm embrace. "This whole 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' thing, you and I...our two little ones." I gestured my head toward the giggles coming from upstairs, but soon felt the spill of a tear rolling down my cheek, triggered by the memory of recent events and the emotions of today. 

"We almost lost you, Russ." 

"I'm here now, Andrea, for as long as you'll have us." His voice vibrated into my chest with a raspy growl, a few octaves deeper than before and way more gritty, an apparent biproduct of the smoke inhalation but it suited him, it was rugged and sexy.  

"I made things right with Bella and Cassie," I remarked, wiping away my tear and smiling, "they actually just left." 

"Jesus, how'd you do that?" Russell laughed aloud. 

"Let's just say...I can be rather convincing when I need to," I kissed his cheek and took him by the hand to the couch, just as Summer came bounding into the room with a squeal.

The little spider monkey did a dolphin dive onto the cushions right beside us. 

"Do you like my shorts, Daddy?" Summer boldly asked, all while twerking her figure-skater arse, right in Russell's face. 

"Summer Addison!" I scolded playfully, do we need to have a little chat, you and I...upstairs?" I clicked my tongue in my mouth and raised an eyebrow at her. "Where's Sarah Jane?" 

Summer explained that Sarah's outfits were a little more "involved", but would be down shortly. "Wait until you see her sparkly little Docs! I picked them out!" Summer proudly declared. 

After a few more twerks of her ass and a sharp slap by me to get her to stop, Summer led Russell and I to the den, where Sarah was waiting in one of her new outfits. 

"Mommy, Daddy, close your eyes!" Summer excitedly suggested, as she led us both by the hand. 

"Okaaaaaaay....open!" 

"Well, aren't you just an adorable little princess," I cooed to Sarah, as she crossed one ankle behind the other and dipped into a curtsey. 

"Daddy do you like my dress?" She cutely squeaked out, batting her eyelashes at him. Before Russell had a chance to respond, she boldly blurted out, "Daddy, can we fuck in my new outfit?" 

Summer, not missing a beat, is practically vibrating with excitement beside me, her own eyes sparkling with mischief and anticipation. "Oooo, Mommy, can I help Daddy? I'm the best little helper!" 

I shook my head, knowing that my head-of-household (HoH) intervention would soon be required. The lustful energies that had been building since Russell and Sarah moved in, threatened to overwhelm the delicate balance of our unique dynamic and the roles we all played for each other. 

"Alight, everyone," I said firmly, my voice cutting through the sexually charged atmosphere like a knife. "It's time for a little family meeting, there must be order in this household." 

...and it was "Mommy's" job to uphold it. 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Family Meeting

Our Anchor

Continued from: Lump in the Throat

As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, my body stiff and sore from the uncomfortable position I had been forced to nap in, I found myself greeted by a sight that simultaneously broke my heart and filled it with a warmth that brought tears to my eyes. 

There, nestled in the hospital bed beside Russell, was none other than Cassandra - her petite frame curled up against his larger one, her head resting on his chest as if seeking comfort from the steady beat of his heart, which, despite the circumstances, was still beating. 

But it was the way she held onto him that truly had me sobbing fresh tears - for she had taken his lifeless arm and draped it protectively around herself, as if seeking to shield her from the harsh realities of that sterile room. 

The gesture was so simple, so innocent, and yet it spoke volumes about how much Russell actually meant to Cassandra, how deeply she cared for him as a father figure in her life. I felt a surge of love and gratitude wash over me, knowing that even in his weakened state, Russ was still able to provide solace and support to those who needed it most. 

Sarah Jane had awoken and crept up beside me, her hand squeezing mine for support, followed by Summer, who broke down completely at the sight of her bff, Cassie, finally home but under such brutal circumstances. It was a tearful reunion for all of us, especially when Cassandra finally awoke to see us all standing there, sobbing into our hands. In that moment, I made a silent vow to do everything in my power to ensure Russell pulled through, that he recovers fully and returns to us whole and unbroken. 

He is the rock, the anchor in all of our lives, the steadfast presence that has always held us together through thick and thin. 

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

A few days passed in a blur of hospital visits, hushed conversations, and anxious waiting. Cassandra stayed with Summer and I at the Facility, keeping a rather low profile. Despite my urging and maternal counselling, she refused to even let her mother know that she was back in Canada.

Then finally, mercifully, the news we had all been praying for arrived: Russell was brought out of his induced coma, his body having stabilized enough to breathe on his own once more. Through it all, Sarah Jane remained by his side, her hand never leaving his, her gaze never wavering from his face. She reported that he was his usual cheerful and comical self, despite being a little groggy and disoriented. 

The moment the doors swung open, revealing the stark white hospital room where Russell lay recovering, Cassandra burst through like a whirlwind - her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and relief, her fists clenched at her sides.  

"You big asshole!" she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "Don't scare me like that!" Despite the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but smile at her feisty demeanour. 

Russell, for his part, merely smirked and glanced over at the doctor standing in the corner of the room - a silent acknowledgment of Cassie's characteristic outburst. 

"Good to see you too, Cassandra," he chuckled, his voice still hoarse from the ventilator tube that had recently been removed. The sound of his laughter, as weak as it was, sent a wave of warmth right to my heart. 

"This must be your daughter?" 

An awkward silence descended upon the room as the doctor's question hung in the air, unanswered. We all exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond without revealing the complex web of relationships that existed between us. 

But before any of us could formulate a suitable reply, Cassie took matters into her own hands - as she so often does. With a boldness that bordered on recklessness, she marched straight up to Russell's bedside and climbed onto his lap like a little girl, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. 

"Yep, this is my dad," she declared, as tears spilled down her cheeks. 

I watched with pride as she nuzzled her face into the crook of Russell's neck, her body molding perfectly against his despite the IV lines and monitoring wires that snaked across his torso. 

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Daddy," Cassie gasped out between heaves of her chest. 

Then she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear. I strained to catch her whispered words. "If you weren't in a hospital bed," she hissed, her voice laced with playful irritation, "I'd tan your bare arse for scaring me like this!" 

I suppressed a small smile at her threat. It was classic Cassandra - fierce, protective, and utterly unafraid to assert her dominance no matter the setting. 

Russell smirked as well, but his expression shifted from amusement to concern. His gaze sought out Sarah Jane. 

"What's the state of the house?" he asked, his voice rough and raspy. "Is insurance taking care of things?"

Sarah hesitated for a moment, her eyes dropping to the floor as she shook her head in defeat. When she finally met Russell's gaze again, her voice was heavy with resignation. "It'll be months before they even start on the interior, huni," she said softly. "They've got us in some rental condo downtown..." Sarah's voice trailed off as I prepared to put a stop to this. 

"Nonsense!" I interrupted firmly, stepping forward to take charge of the situation. "You two will move in with Summer and I until the house is repaired. Yes, it's primarily a BDSM studio but you know we have vanilla living quarters too. Besides, the place is practically a mansion." 

"We couldn't possibly impose like that, Ma'am," Sarah protested weakly, her eyes darting nervously between Russell and I. But I was having none of it. With a swift, decisive motion, I reached into my purse and withdrew the menacing wooden hairbrush that I always kept on hand for just such occasions.

"My decision is final, Sarah Jane," I declared, while tapping the brush against my palm. "You're moving in with us, or shall we go into the bathroom over there and discuss this further?" 

"Russ, you're her 'Daddy' again, tell her." I looked in his direction with daggers in my eyes. 

"Thank you, Andrea, from the bottom of my heart, we accept your gracious offer." Russell smiled at Sarah Jane and nodded warmly in approval.

Summer immediately squealed and rushed to Sarah's side, tickling her tummy and bouncing up and down in front of her!

"Ma cherie!"

"We'll be just like sisters again!" 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: The Goth Girls

 

"Come on, let's Colour"

Continued from: The Facility U.K.

A Sarah Jane story

As the knock sounded at our front door, I looked up from my colouring book, my eyes wide with curiosity. "Daddy, someone's at the door!" I exclaimed, my voice high and childlike. "I'm too little to answer it by myself. Can you get it, pweeease?" I asked, gazing up at Russell with a pleading expression. 

He smiled indulgently and rose from his armchair, setting aside his book. "Of course, sweetheart," he replied, kissing my forehead affectionately as he passed by. I watched him go, admiring the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt and the confident swagger of his gait. 

As Daddy opened the door, I heard a familiar voice, and my heart leapt with joy. "Summer!" I squealed, jumping up from the floor and rushing to the entryway. There, standing on our doorstep, was our dear friends Mistress Andrea and Summer. 

Summer, dressed in the cutest pink overall skirt, white nylons and sporting adorable pigtails, was shocked to see me in knee socks and plaid once again. Without hesitation, I threw myself into her arms, giggling with delight as we embraced. 

"Sarah Jane, tus es a nouveau soumise?" she chuckled as she spoke. I looked to Mistress for a translation, who had her eyebrow raised at Daddy. 

"You two switched again, didn't you?" Mistress Andrea asked, with an undertone of judgement in her voice. 

Summer and I jumped up and down on the spot, as I saw Mistress smirk and shake her head. "Oh my goodness, look at you two!" Her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took in the sight of two adult women, dressed the way we were. "You're just too precious for words." 

Glancing up at Daddy, I saw a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his eyes softening as he watched us. "Why don't you girls go play while "Daddy" and I catch up?" Mistress suggested, her tone warm and encouraging. 

"That sounds like fun, Ma'am," I agreed eagerly, grabbing Summer's hand and tugging her towards the living room. "Come on, let's colour!" As we settled onto the floor, surrounded by crayons and colouring books, I could hear the low murmur of adult conversation drifting in from the kitchen.

I knew that Daddy and Mistress Andrea were discussing the intricacies of our dynamic flip, the complex dance of power and submission that defined our relationship. 

But in that moment, I was content to lose myself in the simple joys of being a little again, to revel in the companionship of my dear friend and the comforting presence of my beloved Daddy. As Summer and I chatted and laughed, our hands moving in tandem as we filled the pages with vibrant hues, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. This was where I belonged, nestled in the warmth of our home, surrounded by the people I loved most in the world. 

As Summer and I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, our heads bent over our colouring books, I couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship with my fellow age-regressed submissive. We may have taken different paths to arrive at this place, but in many ways, our journeys mirrored one another, reflecting the deep-seated desires and vulnerabilities that drove us to seek out these unique dynamics. 

"You know, Summer," I began, my voice barley above a whisper as I selected a bright pink crayon from the box between us, "I really missed calling him 'Daddy', I kinda just missed being adorable and cute, you know?" 

I pulled up some content on my phone to show Summer. "Here, like this." 

"Do you know what I mean?" I asked, as I thumb-flicked to the next one. 

Summer nodded in understanding, her own crayon pausing mid-stroke as she listening intently. "Oui, I know exactly what you mean," she replied softly. "There's a certain freedom in letting go, in surrendering yourself to someone else's care and guidance. It's like you can finally breathe again, after holding your breath for so long." 

I smiled, grateful for her empathy and insight. 

"Even when he has to punish me, I know it's because he cares. It's not always easy, and the spankings definitely suck sometimes, but at the end of the day, I know that he's doing it because he loves me." 

Summer reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "That's the most important thing," she agreed. "Knowing that you're loved and protected, no matter what." 

Summer eventually talked me into getting my top and skirt off and started playing with my boobs, giggling and pinching my nipples through the delicate fabric. I pleaded with her to stop, reminding her that we're about to get in trouble if we're caught. 

I couldn't help but overhear snippets of the conversation between Mistress and Daddy. 

"Here, take these," Mistress said to Daddy, and I heard the jingle of keys changing hands. "They're for the Facility. Please keep an eye on the place while we're gone."

I turned to Summer, my eyes wide with excitement for her. "Are you and Mistress Andrea going on a trip?" I asked, bubbling with enthusiasm. Summer nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Oui! We rented a cottage in the woods up north. It's suppose to be absolutely gorgeous, with a cozy fireplace and a big, steaming hot tub, it's going to be so romantic."  

Summer drew me in for a passionate kiss, I suddenly felt her hand slip into my panties, her fingers teasing my sensitive folds. "Summer!" I gasped, shocked but aroused. "What are you doing?" She just grinned and kissed me again to muffle my moans as I melted under her expert touch. 

Just then, I heard Daddy's voice in the opening to the kitchen. "Now, now, you two," he admonished, his tone firm but playful. "Girls, behave yourselves," he warned, giving us a wink in the process. 

Summer withdrew her fingers from my pussy, leaving me squirming with unsatisfied desire. I picked up my crayon, determined to focus on anything but the throbbing need between my thighs. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Cabin Fever

 

Why Choose BDSM?

Continued from: Old Fashioned

It has always been said of submissives, that they are truly the ones in control. Most whom I have known are powerful, professional, educated, alpha men and women in the vanilla world. Yet, with all the power and control they wield, they choose to kneel. Making that choice puts them in control, does it not? Look at me when I ask you a question!

I recently had Mandy over for a session. Or rather, she requested a session with me, putting the choice and control in her hands essentially. 

Remember Mandy, our cute little soccer mom and nurse? She is mini-van, mega fun, let me tell you! 

She was literally on her way home from work and figured she could squeeze in a quick session, then go home and try to hide the fact that she has a sore, welted bum while interacting with her family. *giggle. 

I asked the A.I. if it would please give me a shot of Mandy, at work, in her scrubs, to share with all of you as a beginning to her story. Hmm, okay...scrubs come in skirts now? And heels. I like it, but I'm not sure how practical this would be in an ER. 

No...no, A.I. - medical scrubs involve pants. Can you put her in proper scrubs for me, please? 

Hehe. Scrub shorts! Super cute and they look great on her! Totally a spankable look for Mandy

Third attempt? 

There we go! Third time's a charm. 

I asked Mandy at the end of her session, when she indeed was thoroughly spanked and humiliated for about an hour, why choose BDSM? What keeps her coming back to endure such shameful vulnerability and pain? 

For me, BDSM is more than just a kink or a fetish. It's a vital part of who I am, a fundamental aspect of my identity, albeit, hidden from the outside world. Through my submission, I've learned to embrace my vulnerabilities, to accept and even celebrate my flaws and weaknesses. I've discovered strength within myself that I never knew existed, a resilience born of enduring pain and humiliation for the sake of pleasure. 

In a world that often judges and condemns those who deviate from the norm, finding a safe space where I can explore my desires without fear or shame has been truly liberating. 

And of course, there's the sheer ecstasy of it all - the rush of adrenaline that comes with being tied up and helpless, the exquisite of a well-placed spank, the euphoria of finally achieving release after hours of teasing and denial. 

These sensations are unlike anything else I've ever experienced, and they keep me coming back again and again, eager for more. 

Well put, Mandy. Why don't you keep going and tell everyone about our session. 

Yes, Ma'am. Like start right from the beginning, with my check-in routine? 

Yes, please, sweetheart. Let the readers know how you are expected to arrive and wait for me.

***********

As I pulled down the long laneway and up to the mansion that housed Mistress Andrea's Facility, my heart began to race with a familiar mixture of excitement and dread. I glanced at my reflection in the rearview mirror, noting the faint circles under my eyes and the tension lines etched into my forehead - telltale signs of another long shift at the ER.

Yet, despite my exhaustion, I couldn't deny the growing ache between my thighs, a hunger that only Mistress Andrea could satisfy. 

Taking one last deep breath, I stepped out of my car and made my way to the intake entrance, secured by a heavy metal door. As soon as I entered the stark foyer of the Facility, I began my entry ritual. This routine had been drilled into me, whipped into me actually, by Mistress during my initial sessions and now it came as second nature. 

First, I removed my runners, placing them neatly in the cabinet. Then, with practiced efficiency, I stripped off my scrubs, folding them carefully and setting them aside. Next came my bra, panties and socks, the last barriers between my naked body and the coolness of the room. I shivered slightly as goosebumps rose on my skin, my nipples hardening in response to the sudden exposure. 

Once fully undressed, I gathered all my belongings - clothes, keys, phone and purse - and placed them into the cabinet below. The moment I shut the door of the cabinet, an automatic lock clattered into place. I felt a profound sense of detachment wash over me and the vulnerability of my situation began to rise. 

With trembling hands, I reached for the waiting gag, its shiny red ball reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. With a deep breath, I pushed the rubber ball past my lips and teeth, stretching my jaw wide as I buckled the strap behind my head. 

I reached for the shackle set and the connecting chains jingled to life in the quiet of the room. I bent down, my bare breasts swaying heavily with the motion, as I applied the cuffs to my ankles. The cool metal sent a shiver down my spine as I awkwardly ratcheted the next set of cuffs onto my wrists, all joined by a mutual chain to my ankles. While clicking these cuffs into place, a familiar sense of vulnerability washed over me, knowing that I was willingly surrendering my freedom during this entry ritual...which, is exactly the point of this entry ritual, to apply layer upon layer of lost control. 

Now, fully restrained and silenced, I turned to face the stand-up metal cage that awaited my final stage of admittance to the Facility. Stepping backwards into the cage, I felt the cold bars gently whisper against my shoulders. With my cuffed wrists, I grasped the door and pulled it shut, the loud click of the automatic lock sealing me inside my temporary prison. 

Up until this exact moment, Mandy was still in control, choosing to submit, choosing to follow my entry ritual and restrain and gag herself. Once that cage locked behind her, it represents the moment all of her control is gone! Well, 99% of it as she still has a safe word. 

From here, Mandy has no idea about the type of session that is coming or what I intend to do with her. Everything is on the table from dungeons to diapers, provided it falls within the boundaries of her hard and soft limits. 

This is the part for Mandy, or any submissive, where the adrenaline starts, the fear, the excitement and the roller-coaster of emotions that makes people choose BDSM. 

I love how this is referred to as her "Waiting Room". "Reflect on their situation", is also spot on!

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

Trapped and helpless, I could do nothing but wait for Mistress Andrea to arrive and occasionally glance at the red blinking light of the video camera, trained on my cage. (For my safety of course)

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, each second stretching into an eternity as I stood there, naked and exposed. My muscles began to ache from the forced upright position of attention, and drool trickled down my chin, dampening my chest. Yet, despite the physical discomfort, I found a perverse sense of peace in my confinement.

As much as it shamed me to admit, my pussy throbbed with slick anticipation when I finally heard the sharp click of high heels approaching, each step echoing through the sterile foyer like a gunshot. My heart raced as Mistress came into view, her stunning beauty taking my breath away. 

She was dressed in a vintage 1950s pinup style, her curves accentuated by the cinched waist and flared skirt of her dress. Her fiery red lips curved into a cruel smile as she appraised my naked, bound form, her eyes roaming over my body with a predatory gaze. 

Despite the gag filing my mouth, I let out a muffled whimper, equal parts fear and desire. Mistress Andrea sauntered closer, her hips swaying hypnotically with each step. She circled the cage slowly, her fingers trailing along the cold metal bars and she inspected me from every angle. 

Her voice was as smooth as honey when she finally spoke. "Well, well, well...look at you, young lady. All trussed up and ready for me." 

With that, she unlocked the cage door, the metallic clank reverberating through the room. Mistress extended her hand, beckoning me forward with a single crooked finger. Obediently, I shuffled from the cage in my shackles, my bare feet padding softly on the cold tile floor.

As she removed my gag and unlocked my cuff set, I stood before her, rubbing my wrists absently as I awaited her next move. She regarded me with a calculated gaze, her eyes narrowed in thought. "Tell me, Mandy," she began, her voice low and measured. "When was the last time I gave you a good, old-fashioned spanking?" 

I knelt and assumed a proper position of submission, as my stomach sank in unison. 

Memories of previous sessions flooded my mind - the humiliation of being draped over her lap like a naughty child, my feet kicking the air as her hairbrush connected with my bare bum, and the mortifying realization that despite my protests, my pussy grew wetter with each smack.

I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice. "It's...It's been awhile, Ma'am," I stammered, my eyes downcast in shame. "I believe the last time you gave me a spanking was several months ago, Ma'am."

Mistress nodded slowly, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Indeed," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "Far too long, I'd say. Mommy will have to rectify that, won't she?" 

This is now the moment in the session where I've shown my hand. Mandy now knows how to address me for this session and she has some basic idea of what is about to happen. Can you imagine what must be going through her mind? 

***********

At 45 years old, a mother myself, I was about to be spanked like a misbehaving child, and required to call a woman younger than me, "Mommy". And yet, beneath the churning humiliation, I couldn't ignore the telltale throbbing between my legs, a betrayal of my body's true desires. 

Without warning, she seized my arm, her grip firm and maternal. I yelped in surprise as she began to smack my bare bum to move me along and into one of the specialty rooms. She led me into a bedroom decorated in sickening sweet pastels and pinks, the air heavy with the scent of baby powder and lavender. 

Laid out on the bed was an outfit that made my tummy twist with humiliation - a soft pink Lolita dress, complete with puffy sleeves and a Peter Pan collar, alongside a pair of pristine white knee socks and glossy pink Mary Janes. The piece de resistance, however, were the "little girl" styled panties, emblazoned with Disney princesses, a far cry from the lacy thongs and boyshorts I usually favoured. 

"Get dressed for Mommy, young lady," she ordered, leaving no room for argument. "And don't forget to put your hair in pigtails. Mommy will be back up in a little while to give you a long overdue spanking."

Any spanko will tell you that they want to hear that word spoken aloud, as it relates to their upcoming fate. They don't want to hear, "I'll be back up to deal with you, are you ready for your correction, you're due for discipline." No...they want to hear, "it's time for your SPANKING!" 

I think I learned this one from Miss Julie, I think she wrote about it once. 

********** 

The words sent a chill through my body, my stomach twisting into knots of dread and anticipation, as I began to don the ridiculous outfit. My face burned with embarrassment as I took in my reflection, the frilly dress, the knee socks and childish accessories a stark contrast to my mature features. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching a soft stuffed bunny to my chest, I felt ridiculous, adrift in a sea of shame and humiliation while being betrayed by arousal. 

I hugged the bunny tighter, seeking comfort its soft fur, as the sound of heel clicks, coming up the stairs, jolted me from my reverie. 

Mandy

Continued in: Betrayed