Tucked In by "Mommy"

Continued from: A Special Bedtime for Russell

A Sarah Jane story 

"Now, be a good girl and bring the plug and lubricant to Mommy," I sang out from my seated position on the ottoman. No doubt Russell, in this very moment would be holding and handling the realistic plug in horror, feeling its veiny contours, fully aware of what was about to happen next. 

Russell gathered the towel with the two items balancing on it, his cheeks flushing crimson like his bare bum, and presented them to me. I accepted the towel with a nod of approval, setting the items aside momentarily as I shed my robe, exposing my stocking tops and garters, patting my strict lap invitingly. 

"Pull down your panties and lay across Mommy's lap once more, my sweet girl," I cooed, gently caressing his sore bottom to guide him over my knees. I took a moment to admire the sight before me - his bare bottom, still rosy from my slipper, upturned and vulnerable. 

Reaching for the lubricant, I squeezed a generous amount onto my gloved fingertips, spreading it liberally over his tight little hole. Russell gasped as I breached him, my digit sliding easily into his naughty bottom. I spent a little time on his prostate, finger beckoning it from inside him, milking-out a few spider-strands of pre-cum that I knew would be glistening from his chastity cage and dampening his panties when he slips them back on. 

I worked him open a little more, adding more lubricant as needed, until I was satisfied with his readiness. Only then, did I reach for the plug, coating it thoroughly in the slick lube. "Relax, little one," I whispered, pressing the tip of the plug against his pucker. Russell whimpered as I pushed forward, his body resisting the intrusion. But I was patient, working the plug in millimeter by millimeter until it was fully seated up his bum. I could feel his muscles clenching around the base, his body adjusting to the unfamiliar fullness. 

Gently, I pulled his panties back up, pulling them high on his hips so the thong portion would help hold in the plug. "There now," I cooed, helping him to stand and turning him to face me. "How does it feel to be nice and full, just like a girl? Does it make you feel owned and claimed by Mommy?" Russell nodded, too embarrassed to speak.

I guided him to the bed and had him lay down on his side. Laying down on his tummy would be no good for the cock cage, if he was laying on his back he would become acutely aware that he was recently spanked and now anally plugged. On his side, in a vulnerable fetal position was perfect to be "tucked in" by Mommy.

From the bedside table, I retrieved four baby pink bondage cuffs, their soft leather brought a beautiful scent as I held one of them up to my nose. With gentle but deliberate haste, I secured the cuffs around Russell's wrists and ankles, adding a small brass padlock to each buckle. As I worked away, I couldn't help but admire the picture he presented - a vision of feminized helplessness, his frilly attire a mockery of his masculinity. 

With one final length of narrow chain, I connected his ankle cuffs to his wrist cuffs, with more than enough room to comfortably move about on the bed. 

Once he was fully restrained to my liking, unable to reach back and remove the plug or his attire, I leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "There you go, my sweet little girl," I sang out to him. "All tucked in and ready for bed. Mommy will be up to join you in awhile," I promised, my voice laced with maternal care. "In the meantime, you just rest there and think about how lucky you are to have a Mommy Domme to keep you safe and controlled."

With a final whimper from him, I glided out of the room and went downstairs to get some fruit, still feeling like an absolute Goddess. 

I couldn't help but think of Mistress Andrea, as someone I once had to call "Mommy", when I was draped over her knee, dressed like a little girl. I now had a better understand of what it felt like on this side of the hairbrush, the pride, the caring and nurturing of your submissive...it was a lot of work, but well worth the return on investment. 

I wanted to tell Mistress all about tonight, I wanted her to be proud of me and what I was blossoming into. 

I text her a picture with no further description or details, just this: 

Moments later, my phone on the counter buzzed to life. 

Mistress asked a few more details, I shared mostly everything. In our particular arrangement, it is thrilling, butterfly causing and humiliating for Russell to know that another woman, or several women, are aware he is spanked, kept in chastity and as of tonight, "forcibly" feminized. It was part of our contract that he is owned by me, but must obey the likes of Mistress Andrea, Summer and if she ever comes back to Canada, Cassandra. 

A "surprise" at Mistress Andrea's Facility usually meant I'd be leaving there sore, degraded, humiliated and blissfully indulged, in all my kinky cravings. But after this role-switching with Russell, I'm not sure I'm in the right headspace for one of the Facility's many surprises. Lucky, Mistress put my mind and my heart, quickly at ease. 

Coffee-talk sounded nice, just Andrea and I...

But my mind was reeling with self-doubt, almost like I was intimidated, but I shouldn't be, should I? 

Am I really one of them now, have I been turned to the dark side? 

Am I a female Dominatrix?

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Little Spoon

 

A Special Bedtime for Russell

Continued from: The Three D's of a FLR

A Sarah Jane story

The following night, I was lounging on the sofa, my legs spread invitingly, I could feel the gentle caress of Russell's tongue against my delicate folds. I had him fully naked and collared with a leash, kneeling dutifully between my legs.

 

Since my pinup dress and vintage lingerie look of yesterday, I seem to have resonated toward these classic, feminine styles. The strict, vintage "Mommy" look, always with the pearls and an ebony hairbrush at the ready.

That being said, for tonight, I was in vintage heels, nude stockings with garter straps that disappeared under the cool satin of my Mommy robe, opened slightly to expose most of my bare tits and allow Russell access to my pussy.

As he lapped away, worshipping my pussy, I pulled up my phone and accessed our FLR contract. My fingers scrolled to the section relating to spankings and punishments, my thumb panning to rest on the sub-heading: 

Bedtime Spankings

I scanned the content and raised an eyebrow, as I felt his tongue begin to swirl circles around my clit. 

Section 3.1, sub-section (a), (b) and (c)

The submissive shall present himself to the Mistress, ready for bed and dressed in dedicated sleepwear selected by the Mistress. 

When prompted, the submissive will bare his bottom and position himself over the lap of the Mistress.

These bedtime spankings may last anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on how long it takes for the submissive to fully embrace his vulnerability. These bedtime rituals serve to strengthen the bond between us, reminding the submissive that even in his most vulnerable moments, he is cherished and protected.  

I tucked my phone away and got more involved in his oral worship, pressing on the back of his head and encouraging him to slow down and draw his tongue upwards, the full length of my pussy. After an amazing orgasm, Russell remained on the floor, lowering his gaze and whispering out a breathy, "thank you, Mistress," for my delightful gift of cumming onto his lips.   

I smiled down at him in contentment, enjoying the view of him collared, with his leash held in my hand, as I contemplated my next move. 

During the wooden spoon spanking of yesterday and our subsequent playtime after dinner, he was transitioning into his new role quite well. However, I could still sense too much of his dominant, alpha bravado left in him. I would see this rising to the surface from time to time. Plus, his whiny, little girl tantrum when I didn't unlock him last night to fuck me, I still needed to address in some manner. 

I accessed my phone and pulled up the contract again, section 3.1 (a) and (c).  

...shall present himself to the Mistress, ready for bed and dressed in dedicated sleepwear selected by the Mistress. 

...for the submissive to fully embrace his vulnerability.

Had he fully embraced his vulnerability yet? Or was there still too much of his old role left in him? 

I thought I would give a bedtime spanking a try, but with a twist, and see how Russell responds. 

"It's time to get ready for bed, my little one," I announced, in a sing-song voice. I rose from the couch, the silk of my robe flowing around my curves as I stood before him in all my dominant glory. 

The click of my heels against the hardwood floor echoed through the room as I accessed his leash and began to lead him out of the room. I stopped short of the upper floor, pointing to the corner of the landing on the staircase. "Kneel here, facing the walls," I commanded, guiding him into position. "Hands at your sides, eyes straight ahead. Mommy needs to prepare some things for your early bedtime." 

I ran a manicured finger along the nape of his neck, watching as goosebumps consumed his body. 

"Don't move a muscle until I return. Understood?" 

"Yes, Mommy," he replied, picking up on the change in my role, that I was laying on pretty thick.

 

I ascended the stairs, my hips swaying seductively with each click and I made my way to the bedroom. The soft glow of the nightside lamps illuminated the space as I approached the dresser, a special drawer of the dresser I had started just for him. 

With careful deliberation, I selected a pink satin, babydoll nightie, its fabric whispering against my fingertips as I laid it out on the bed. 

Next, a matching satin thong, the silky texture a stark contrast to the masculine hands that will soon be pulling them on. 

Finally, I retrieved a pair of adorable nylon ankle socks, their ruffled cuffs adding a touch of childlike innocence to the ensemble. 

I arranged each item with precision, creating a visual feast of femininity that will serve as a shocking reminder of Russell's place in this dynamic. 

As I made my way back down the stairs, my eyes fell upon Russell's kneeling form, still obediently facing the corner as instructed. The sight of him, naked and collared, waiting patiently for my return, sent a thrill of power coursing through my pussy. 

Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Stand up, honey," I whispered, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palm. "Mommy has laid out a special jammies for you tonight," I murmured, my voice a sultry purr. "Go to Mommy's room, dress yourself in the items I've laid out, you may remove your collar, and sit on the edge of the bed with your eyes down. I'll be up shortly to..." I paused dramatically, "...to tuck you in."

With a gentle pat on his bare bum, I sent him on his way, watching as he climbed the stairs, his naked form disappearing from view. A wicked smile played on my lips as I imagined the scene unfolding for poor Russell - having to dress in such frilly pajamas, to wait for "Mommy" to "tuck him into bed" earlier than usual. 

The anticipation was building as I waited a good ten minutes, before slowly and powerfully clicking up the stairs in my heels. Upon reaching the top of the stairs I stopped, allowing the silence to stretch out for a moment before slipping off my heels and sliding my feet into a pair of plush, fur-lined slippers.

I entered the room with purposeful strides, my slippers whispering against the rug as I made my way to the ottoman bench at the end of the bed. Lowering myself onto the cushioned surface, my satin robe pooled around me like liquid silver. I took a moment to adjust my position, ensuring that my lap will provide a sturdy base for Russell's mid-section. 

Once settled, I called him over. "Come here, little one," I purred, a slow sensual smile spreading across my lips, as I took in the sight of his feminized form. 

I cooed out to him again, speaking with maternal care and authority. "It's time for your bedtime spanking." 

As he approached, in the unfamiliar embarrassment of his girly attire, I reached out to gently grasp his wrist. My eyes travelled down his body, lingering on the pink satin thong that hugged his hips and outlined his cock cage perfectly. 

"These need to come down, sweetie," I hissed, tracing a finger along the waistband. "Bare that naughty bum for Mommy, we're going to have a little chat about your girlish whining last night." 

He whimpered as he hooked his thumbs into the delicate panties and slide them down his thighs, revealing the pale globes of his bare bum. I tapped my lap invitingly, the sound of my palm against my own flesh acted as a preview of the sounds to come. "Over Mommy's knee, young lady," I ordered with amusement, mixing in some emasculating gender-play. 

As his weight settled over my lap, I closed my thighs gently, to trap his cock cage between my stocking tops. 

With a deep breath, I begin the spanking, my hand rising and falling in a therapeutic, comforting rhythm. I intended to make this spanking long but not overly severe, a preview for Russell, as to what a bedtime ritual may become in our new dynamic. 

As the minutes ticked by, I watched as his bottom transformed to a lovely shade of pink that matched the shade of his adorable pajamas. When I finally paused, my palm stinging pleasantly from the impact, I kicked my foot out of one of my slippers, the firm rubber sole making a soft thud as it hit the floor. 

"Hand Mommy her slipper, young lady," I commanded, my voice low and sultry. I shifted Russell's position slightly, so her could support his upper body on the ottoman and I could use one of my legs to pin his in place, a time-honoured position I learned at the Facility. 

As I gripped the slipper firmly in my hand, I marveled at the dichotomy of this scene - a grown man, alpha-male at that, reduced to the status of a naughty little girl over's Mommy's knee. 

I raised the slipper high above my head, and brought it down firmly onto Russell's sit-spots, alternating cheeks, mixing in some upper thighs too. I paused occasionally to caress his bum, inspecting my work and making sure I was feeling the right amount of heat. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I allowed Russell a moment to just lay there in pure silence and vulnerability, over my knee, with his red bottom exposed and swollen. I rubbed his lower back and told him he was a "good girl," before helping him to his feet.

"Pull up those pretty panties, my sweetie," I instructed, my voice switching to a soothing balm. "And don't forget to thank Mommy for your spanking." 

I watched as he obeyed, wincing slightly as the delicate thong slid between his reddened cheeks. 

"Thank you for my spanking, Mommy," his voice crackled out in the quiet of the room. 

Satisfied with his gratitude I pointed to the bathroom door, once again firm and authoritative. I began to lay it on thick, making every attempt to break down the defences of his previous role as my dominant. 

"Now, my little princess," I said sweetly, "I want you to go into the bathroom. Mommy has a special surprise for you in there, resting on a towel. Bring the items to Mommy please." 

Earlier, when Russell was in the timeout corner on the landing, I had prepared some things for after his bedtime slippering. What he was about to see, laid out upon a fluffy white towel in my bathroom, was a realistic penis-shaped butt plug and a tube of lubricant.

"Be a good girl and bring the items to Mommy, please," I sang out cheerfully, twisting my blade of dominance even deeper. Hehe! 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Tucked in by Mommy

  

  

 

 

The Struggle is Real

Continued from: A Minor Annoyance

A Sarah Jane story: 

With Russell standing obediently in the timeout corner by the very visible front door, I made my way to the center of the living room, my hips swaying provocatively with each step. I lowered myself gracefully onto the spanking chair, the smooth fabric of my pinup dress rustling softly as I settled into position. 

Crossing my legs, I savoured the sensation of my nude stockings against my skin, a reminder of my feminine power. "Come here, young man," I purred, crooking a finger in Russell's direction. He approached tentatively, his eyes downcast, until he stood directly beside me. Reaching out, I cupped his locked-up penis, raising an eyebrow in cruel delight. 

With a gentle pat on my lap, I invited him to assume the most classic and vulnerable of positions. "Over my knee, sweetheart," I cooed, my voice dripping with honeyed venom. "It's time for your spanking." As Russell obediently draped himself over my stocking tops, I took a moment to admire the view - his bare bum presented perfectly for my maternal correction. 

Raising my hand, I brought it down firmly on his left cheek, alternating to his right then back again, relishing the satisfying smack that echoed through the room. Again and again, I kept up a steady rhythm upon his upturned bum, alternating cheeks and varying the intensity. 

"Do you know why you're being spanked, young man?" I asked, tracing a fingernail lightly over his heated flesh. Russell's response was muffled by the placement of his head down by my high heels, but I could make out a whimpered, "yes, Ma'am." 

"That's right," I purred, resuming my spanking with renewed vigor. "You left the coffee maker in a state of disarray, forcing me to clean up after you. That simply won't do in our household, will it?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp smack, emphasizing my point. 

"In this relationship, you are to serve me, to anticipate my needs and ensure my comfort and pleasure at all times. Leaving me to clean up after you is unacceptable behaviour, and it will not be tolerated. Do you understand?" 

Russell's affirmative whimper was music to my ears, as I reached for the wooden spoon that lay waiting on the small table beside me. I brought it down in measured strokes, firmly peppering all quadrants of his bum and thighs, each impact leaving a fiery sting to his sensitive bum. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I could see the odd distinct marks of the wooden spoon. This wasn't a severe punishment, but enough to leave him both physically and psychologically fearful of my handy kitchen implement.

"There, there, my sweetie," I nurtured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "All done now. You will be forgiven very shortly." Guiding him back to the corner, I positioned him once more with his nose to the walls and his hands behind his head. The sight of my former dominant and "Daddy", his well-punished bottom on full display, sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me. 

"Twenty minutes," I declared, setting the timer on my phone. "You'll stand there and reflect on your behaviour, young man." With that, I settled myself comfortably on the couch, picking up the book I had been reading earlier. 

But then, a wicked smile of cruel mischief crossed my lips. Reaching for my phone, I dialed Mistress Andrea's number, intent on amplifying poor Russell's humiliation and solidifying my role in this FLR.

I heard Russell gasp from the corner the moment he realized I was on the phone. 

"Hello, Mistress, it's Sarah Jane," I purred into the microphone. "You'll never guess what I'm looking at right now." I paused, allowing her to respond, before continuing. I glanced over at Russell, noting how his shoulders tensed at my words, his embarrassment palpable, even from across the room.  

"Yes, Ma'am, straight-backed chair, OTK. No, he's got about eighteen minutes left..." our conversation continued, while poor Russell was only able to hear one side of it. 

"Of course I'll send you a picture, Ma'am, hang on." 

"It was a wooden spoon, Ma'am, good eye." 

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

Continued by Mistress Andrea:

When my phone rang I was just working on a post for the blog where I was poking fun at my struggles with the A.I. image generator. I was delighted to see Sarah Jane's name pop up on the phone and was even more delighted and a little shocked when she told me that she and Russell had officially switched roles. 

I guess he was in the timeout corner, listening to all of this, which would have been mortifying! But a great tactic, well done, Sarah! She told me all about the contract, how she was dressed and what caused tonight's spanking. I couldn't help but beam with pride. We taught her well. Her countless hours spent in degrading submission at times, had given her all the tools and knowledge she would need to fulfill this new role and it sounded like she was off to a great start. 

I think we ended the conversation with me asking her if she'll be "thanked properly", after Russell's timeout was over. 

"Oh, you better believe it, Mistress. Talk soon," and she made a cute little smooch noise into the phone.

Now, back to what I was doing. The struggle is real people! Getting an A.I. image generator to cooperate can be frustratingly addicting at times. I won't show you anything involving three arms, or heads growing out of torsos, that's just nightmare fuel, but I thought I'd share some funny struggles I've had recently. 

With Kindroid, which has been a fantastic platform when it cooperates, you ask it for a "selfie". You put a description in, limited to like five or six-hundred characters, then you can upload an image of a pose and it will replicate the pose with the details of my description. 

"Summer is standing at a bar in an airport. She's in her tailored flight attendant uniform with nylons and high heels. She has a decorative scarf around her neck with gold wings and a brass nameplate on her lapel." 

Wait for it...

*Sigh...ok, Kindroid. We all know Summer is an absolute angel and flight attendants are angels, but seriously? Lol 

Let's try someone else, shall we? Nurse Mandy, remember her? A fan on Reddit said "her arse has won the internet," (lol, okay) and that they want to frame a picture of her bum and hang it in their home. So I guess we'll have to have her back to the Facility. Remember Mandy? 

You're all aware that a common theme at my Facility, is to take those soccer moms, corporate executives and high-powered, alpha-women and dress them up like little girls before I spank them. This is merely done to draw out their vulnerability and provide a layer of humiliation, which serves to amplify the whole, being spanked as an adult, experience.

I found a darling little outfit for Mandy, that I thought would be shamefully embarrassing, allowing her to escape into her role and it represented and stark contrast to her vanilla-world persona.

Then came the prompt: 

"Mandy is laying flat on her stomach on a bed. She's in a tiny little skirt with strawberry patterns, matching white panties and white stockings. Her hair is in pigtails." 

Those berries are going to leave a stain on that white bedding! The sissy maids will have a difficult time getting that out!

One more attempt...Summer and I. 

I took some inspiration from Sarah Jane, and felt it was high-time to get motherly with my angel of a wife, and have her fetch the wooden spoon for a trip over my knee. 

She's an angel alright, until I saw her credit card statement for this month and summoned her to the parlour for a little "chat".

This one kinda worked. I didn't ask for a blue dress though...

Then the next prompt: "Mistress is seated, Summer is kneeling beside her about to be spanked. On the wall behind Mistress, are an array of spanking implements hanging from a display rack." 

Look at my avatar's face! Lol. Even she looks irritated with the rack of "spanking implements". 

Summer, it looks like you're off the hook, babe. Instead of tanning your little butt this morning, it looks like I'll be whisking you an omelet instead.

It's a struggle people. This is a labour of love. 

Mistress Andrea xo 

Continued by Sarah Jane, in: The Three D's of a FLR

 

 

Sign Here, Initial There

Continued from: What do you say?

A Sarah Jane story 

The morning light filters gently through the curtains as we stir awake, our bodies still tangled in the aftermath of last night's explorations. I feel Russell shift beside me, his lips already forming the words "Good morning, Ma'am." But I silence him with a single finger pressed to his lips, my eyes locking with his. "No, not yet," I murmur softly, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. His eagerness to address me by a formal title is endearing, a clear indication that we're on the right track. But there is still work to be done, boundaries to establish, and roles to solidify. 

 Gently pulling away from his embrace, I sit up, stretching cutely before turning to face him once more. "Go make me a coffee, please," I instruct, my voice firm yet affectionate. "And bring it to the upstairs office. You'll wait for me there, understood?" He nods, his eyes wide and attentive, hanging on my every word. "Oh, and one more thing," I add, my gaze trailing appreciatively over his naked form. "You'll remain in your underpants only while you wait. I want easy access to what is mine." 

A faint blush colours his cheeks at my words, but he doesn't hesitate, rising from the bed and padding off to fulfill my request. 

I rise from the bed, taking a moment to select a suitable outfit for this occasion. Something powerful, yet feminine; authoritative, yet alluring.  

As I stand before the mirror, surveying my reflection, I can't help but feel a surge of power coursing through me. The lace panties leave little to the imagination, the delicate, sheer fabric clinging to my curves like a second skin. The corset cinches my waist, emphasizing my hourglass figure, while the intricate lacing at the back hints at the restraint and control that is about to define our dynamic. 

And the heels, those glorious sky-high heels, elevate me both literally and figuratively, adding inches to my height and cementing my status as the dominant force in this relationship. 

I retrieve the ottoman from the end of my bed and pull it across the hall into the office. There, I position it carefully, creating an impromptu queening stool. I go back to my room to collect my laptop, as I hear the soft pad of Russell's bare feet approaching, followed by the rustle of fabric as he settles himself in the chair I indicated, to await my arrival. 

A slow smile spreads across my face as I picture him there, his nearly naked form a testament to his submission, his eagerness to please me in every way. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and strode towards the office door. Each click of my heels against the hardwood floor is a declaration of intent, a warning of the power that approaches. 

I allow him a moment to appreciate the view, to let the reality of his position sink in, before crossing to the desk and setting down my laptop with a deliberate thud. Turning to face him fully, I meet his eyes, my own burning with intensity of my desire, my need to claim him utterly and completely. 

"Well, young man," I purr, my voice a sultry invitation and a stern command all at once. "Shall we begin?" 

With a flick of my wrist, I gesture for Russell to approach the ottoman, my makeshift throne. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the leather restraints dangling from my fingertips, but he doesn't hesitate, holding out his wrists to me. 

Once secured to the ottoman, I give the restraints a final tug, ensuring there's no give, no escape from the fate I have planned for him. With a graceful movement, I settle myself onto the ottoman, lowering my barely-clad bum onto his upturned face. 

The deliberately selected panties were ultra-sheer, he is so close, but teased by the delicate shrouding of fabric. I can feel the brush of his nose against my bottom-hole, a delicious tease that sends shivers of pleasure rippling through my core.

To a fly on the wall, the situation would appear like so: 

Leaning forward, I reach for my coffee, brining the mug to my lips and inhaling deeply, savouring the rich aroma before taking a sip. 

Setting the mug aside, I turn my attention to my laptop, my fingers flying over the keys as I begin to type. 

FEMALE-LED-RELATIONSHIP

(FLR) 

CONTRACT

1. The Dominant party, Sarah Jane, henceforth referred to as, "the Mistress."

2. The submissive party, Russell, henceforth referred to as "the submissive." 

3. The contract shall span a minimum duration of six months, during which time both parties shall fully commit to their respective roles

4. The details agreed upon in this contract cannot be changed, removed or edited until the maturity date of the contact, six months from the date in which it was signed by both parties.

5. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the submissive shall only ever address the Mistress as "Mistress", "Ma'am" or "Mommy", as per her discretion.

6. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the contract will be in effect immediately. 

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

I really need to get me one of these for the office. This is going to be a very long document!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Now you may call me, Ma'am

So I may be Forgiven

Continued from: My Little Ponies

A Sarah Jane story

Even though I knew I was in deep shit and would be feeling Daddy's belt across my ass tomorrow, he didn't dwell on my transgression. That's just the way things worked between us. I'd face the consequences for my actions, but then all would be forgiven. 

For the rest of the evening, things went on as usual. After Mandy left, Daddy and I settled in on the couch to watch some movies together, still essentially house-sitting at Mistress Andrea's Facility. 

I cuddled up against him, trying to soak up his warmth and affection while I still could. Even though he wasn't brining up my impending punishment, I couldn't stop thinking about it. My stomach was in knots imagining the thrashing I was going to get. 

Partway through the second movie, Daddy shifted and I felt his hand come to rest on the top of my head. Without a word, he applied gentle pressure, guiding my face down towards his lap. Obediently, I slid off the couch and positioned myself between his knees. 

I focused all my energy on pleasuring Daddy, trying to take my mind off the punishment looming over me. I sucked and bobbed with enthusiasm, taking him deep into my throat. 

Before long, I felt Daddy's cock swelling and pulsing between my lips. With a grunt, he gripped my pigtails and held my head down, forcing his length into my throat as he came hard. I swallowed every drop obediently, continuing to gently suckle him clean as he softened in my mouth. 

"Good girl", he praised, patting my head. "Now come back up here and finish watching this movie with me." I crawled back up on the couch and snuggled against his lap, but my mind was still racing, unable to forget the painful reckoning I'd be facing tomorrow. 

The next morning I woke up early and got ready to face my spanking. In the shower, I scrubbed myself thoroughly, wanting to be fresh and clean for Daddy. After drying off, I pulled my hair up into a high, tight ponytail to keep it out of the way. 

Next, I selected my outfit carefully. I stepped into a pair of big, plain white cotton panties - the kind that covered everything and made me feel anything but sexy. Over those, I pulled on a sweater dress that would allow Daddy easy access to my bum. I finished the look with high heels, before taking a deep breath and headed downstairs to face my fate. 

"Daddy, I'm ready for my punishment." I said softly, my voice wavering slightly. "I was rude and disrespectful to our guest yesterday and I spoke out of turn to you in front of her. I'm truly sorry for my behaviour. Please spank me severely, Daddy, so I may be forgiven."

A few tears slipped down my cheeks as I awaited his response, my body slightly trembling in anticipation. 

Daddy regarded me silently for a long moment, his expression stern. Finally, he stood up and took me firmly by the upper arm and began leading me out of the house. My stomach dropped as I realized where we were headed - the woodshed. The woodshed, no matter who's home it happens to be at, was where Daddy will take me for only the most serious infractions, the ones that required only the harshest of punishments.  

As we approached the small outbuilding, I started shaking harder, my breath coming faster. Daddy opened the door and guided me inside the unfinished space, appearing as though it was under construction. 

"Stand there," Daddy commanded, pointing to a spot on the unfinished wall. 

"Face the wall and think about what you did and why you're here. You've got 15 minutes." He released my arm and I hurried to obey. 

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as I contemplated the severe whipping I knew was coming. My bum clenched involuntarily beneath my short dress, already anticipating the fiery sting of Daddy's belt.

When the 15 minutes were finally up, I heard Daddy's heavy footsteps approaching behind me. "Strip," he ordered. "Leave the heels on." With fumbling, shaking fingers, I peeled off my dress and frumpy underwear, letting them pool on the dirty floor. Goosebumps rose on my naked flesh in the cool air. 

Once I was fully naked, save for my heels, Daddy gripped my arm again and marched me out the door of the shed. I gasped as I realized he was taking me outside, where anyone might see my shameful punishment. He dragged me over to an old wooden ladder leaning against the back wall of the shed. 

Roughly, he bound my wrists and ankles to the rungs with coarse ropes, stretching me out tightly. Satisfied that I was secured well enough, he walked over to the large weeping willow tree a few yards away. He selected a long, slender branch and stripped it of its leaves, fashioning a wicked-looking switch. He swished it through the air as he approached my vulnerable form. 

I braced myself as Daddy took his position behind me, switch it hand. Closing my eyes, I tried to steel myself for the searing agony I knew was coming. But to my shock, after only a dozen sharp, stinging lashes across my bare bum, he tossed the switch aside. 

I barely had time to process this before I heard the ominous sound of his belt being removed from his pants. The thick leather cracked against my already smarting cheeks, painting lines of fire across my skin. But again, he stopped after just a dozen strokes. 

As Daddy untied me from the ladder, I was confused and almost...disappointed? Is that possible, what's wrong with me? I had been mentally preparing myself for an absolutely brutal thrashing, the kind that would leave me sore and sorry for days afterwards. But this punishment felt almost anticlimactic in comparison. My bum was certainly red and stinging, but it was nothing compared to what I had been anticipating. 

I rubbed my wrists as Daddy led me back inside the shed, handing me my dress to put back on. Perhaps this was just the first part of my punishment, with more to follow later? I didn't dare ask, simply followed him meekly back to the timeout spot, my head bowed in continued submission. 

Another 15 minutes of corner time? That was nothing. 

I should be standing here for at least an hour, my bare bottom on display, reflecting on my transgression until my legs ached and my back cramped. 

And the spanking itself...a few measly lashes with a switch and Daddy's belt? I'd gotten far worse for much lesser offences. My bottom should be crisscrossed with angry welts, bruised and tender to the touch for days afterwards. Instead, the sting was already fading, leaving only a mild warmth behind. It was if Daddy went easy on me, and I couldn't understand why. 

As my 15 minutes must have been drawing to a close, I heard Daddy's footsteps returning. He came up behind me and wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me back against his chest. I melted into his embrace, feeling the solid warmth of his body through his shirt. 

"It's ok, babygirl," Daddy murmured. "You took your punishment well. I know it wasn't what you were expecting, but sometimes mercy can be just as powerful as severity." He turned me gently in his arms so that I was facing him, looking up into his kind, understanding eyes. "Do you accept my forgiveness, little one?"

I nodded, blinking back tears. "Yes, Daddy. Thank you for punishing me and forgiving me. I don't deserve your mercy, but I'm grateful for it." I buried my face against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. 

As Daddy held me close, I tilted my head up to look at him, batting my eyelashes like a cutie-pie. "Daddy, may I thank you properly for my punishment?" I purred, dipping down to my knees onto the floor of the woodshed, never breaking eye contact with Daddy. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: The Night We Met