Serenity

Continued from: Christian Christmas

[F/f] [dungeon] [bondage] [spanking] [strapping] [strap-on] [ball gag] [degrading] 

As I stood before the Christmas tree, admiring this powerful man on his hands and knees, kissing my recently unwrapped Loubies, all felt right with the world once again. 

"You may stand, young man." I announced graciously, extending a hand to assist him in standing. Once he was upright, I gestured towards the nearby coffee table, where an array of colourful wrapping paper and ribbons lay waiting. 

"Be a dear and help me with the rest of the girl's presents, won't you?" I requested, my tone playful yet commanding. 

As we worked side-by-side, two more Christian Louboutin boxes were produced from beneath the tree. I reached for one of the boxes, then the other, carefully lifting the lid to show Russell its contents. Inside, nestled amidst tissue paper, lay a pair of glossy black Mary Janes with a lower heel, their patent leather surface gleaming in the soft light of the tree. 

Then the second pair, featuring a darling double strap design, lending them an air of youthful innocence that seemed almost at odds with the sophisticated elegance of the red soles. 

"I must admit," Russell remarked, "I wasn't aware that Loubie produced Mary Jane styles. Aren't these like four-thousand dollars a pair?" 

I chuckled softly, "not quite...well, Sarah's boots were." 

"So...business is going well then, Ma'am?" Russell sheepishly asked, almost with a touch of jealously in his voice. 

I explained that yes, in fact, business was going quite well of late. Between the Facility U.K. sending a cut of their profits our way, and Vanessa and Summer's foot fetish racket, things were quite financially comfortable of late. 

"Summer sold a pair of her Loubies that she wore on flights for like two years," I giggled as I spoke, "to some gentleman on the west coast for twelve grand." 

"Oh, is that all?" Russell chuckled. "She has quite a gift that girl." 

As we finished wrapping the two Loubie boxes, I carefully placed them under the tree with a smile. "I'd like Summer and Sarah Jane to wear these Christmas morning, Daddy, when they're in their little velvet dresses." 

They'll look simply adorable in their white tights and Christmas dresses, I thought to myself , all while humming a holiday tune. 

My mind quickly changed direction, as I began to envision what must be happening in the basement this very moment. A significant contrast from Mary Janes and opaque tights... 

A Sarah Jane story

Meanwhile, down in the sex dungeon... 

I had Mandy right where I wanted her - on her hands and knees, her tongue diligently tracing the contours of my new Christian Louboutin boots. As Mandy's tongue worked its way up the shaft of my boot, I could feel the heat of her breath, sending a delicious shiver up my spine. 

My body thrummed with anticipation as I lifted one booted foot onto a nearby surface. With a firm grip on Mandy's hair, I guided her head between my thighs, forcing her face into the damp heat of my pussy. 

As Mandy worked her magic, the supple leather of my riding crop whispered through the air as I brought it down on her bare ass. "That's it slut," I purred, my voice dripping with sadistic glee. "Worship your Mistress with that lezzy little tongue of yours." 

After a few more sizzling strokes of the whip, Mandy redoubled her efforts, her tongue delving deeper into my slick folds. I could feel the familiar tightening in my tummy, the telltale signs of an impending orgasm. As the pressure mounted, I increased the frequency and intensity of my strikes, steadily whipping her bare butt as her tongue took me over the edge. 

As the last tremors of my orgasm faded away, I released my grip on her hair, allowing her to slump back on her haunches, her face glistening with the evidence of my pleasure. 

"Thank you for your cum, Ma'am," she breathed out deeply, as I patted her on the bum. 

 

"You're welcome, my pet. Now strip!" 

Mandy wasted no time in obeying, her fingers trembling with eagerness as she shed what little garments she had left. With a satisfied nod, I took her by the hand and led her toward a narrow, flat bondage bench with a bolster pillow in the middle. 

"Up you get, huni," I instructed, watching her with predatory interest as Mandy climbed onto the padded surface, arranging herself face down with her hips elevated by the strategically placed bolster. The sight of her, naked and vulnerable, her ass raised invitingly towards me, sent a fresh wave of desire pulsing through my clit. 

I tied her wrists and ankles off quite tightly, stretching an presenting her naked body perfectly, along the length of the padded bench. Approaching the bench, I ran my hand along the beautiful mounds of Mandy's sit spots, admiring the almost blank canvass that had already been kissed by my riding crop. 

"Such a bad, bad girl, I purred, my voice a sultry purr. 

Reaching the nearby wall, the click of my Loubie boots echoing off the stone walls, I selected a sturdy leather strap and rested it on the small of Mandy's back. 

"You're getting a strapping, young lady, on the bare," I hissed. "I expect you to count and thank me, after each stroke. We'll be doing twenty-five per side." 

Without warning, I brought the leather down across her presented ass cheeks, the sharp crack of impact filling the air. It was music to my ears. Mandy yelped in surprise, her body jerking against the restraints that held her in place. 

I settled into a steady rhythm, administering twenty-five lashes of the strap from the left side of her body, before switching to the right side to administer the same. Mistress taught me once, that this is the way you keep colour even, when using something that connects with both bum cheeks, in one stroke. 

I marveled at the way Mandy responded to the strapping, as if she was melting into the punishment bench, surrendering herself completely to the sensations. 

Once helping her off the strapping bench, I guided her towards another station in the dungeon. This particular apparatus featured a padded surface for her to kneel on, with various point of restraint and bondage. 

As I assisted Mandy into position, returning her Loubies to her feet, I couldn't help but admire the her body moved with fluid grace, even in her weakened state. 

While reaching for a ball gag that would silence her cries of pleasure and pain, I noticed something remarkable. As I slid the rubber sphere between Mandy's parted lips and tightened the straps around her head, I saw her eyes flutter closed, a look of utter serenity washing over her features. 

It was as if, in that moment, all the stress and weight of her vanilla life simply melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and freedom. This was a feeling I knew all to well. 

I could feel Mandy's eyes following my every move, as I clicked over to a lovely display of floggers and selected one from the rack. Satisfied with my choice, I turned back to Mandy, a wicked smile playing at the corners of my mouth as I swooshed the flogger through the air. 

I brought the whip down on Mandy's tits and nipples, landing with a sharp string that drew a muffled gasp from behind her gag. I continued with a second lash, then a third, alternating between swift stinging strokes and slower, more sensual caresses, until Mandy's chest was flushed like a sunburn. 

"So responsive, so eager to please your Mistress," I purred, setting the flogger aside and letter her watch me attach a strap-on harness around my hips. "And now, it's time for your reward."

Mandy's muffled screams dripped from the dungeon walls, as I plunged the dildo into her soaking wet cunt and set a punishing pace. With one hand firmly gripping Mandy's hair, I lifted her head, forcing her to gaze into a mirror in front of her. 

"Look at yourself," I commanded, my voice low and husky with desire. "Look at the wanton slut you've become, the desperate little whore who lives to serve me!"

The moment the words left my lips, calling Mandy a slut and a whore, her body erupted in a violent orgasm. The humiliation and degradation proved to much for her to bear, pushing her over the edge into a realm of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. 

Her pussy clamped down around my strap-on like a vice, pulsing and spasming as I slowed my pace, praising her and calling her my babygirl.

I got Mandy all unhooked and rid myself of the strap-on. We collapsed onto a mattress on the dungeon floor, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. 

Despite the rigidness of our roles in a scene - mistress and slave, domme and submissive, top and bottom - there was a warmth of camaraderie between us. As we lay there, entwined in each other's arms, laughter bubbled up from deep within us. 

"Holy shit!" Mandy, breathed, her voice still hoarse from screaming through the gag as she came. 

"That was...incredible!"

I pounced my little frame on top of hers, giggling and showering her with kisses as her toes curled in her Loubies. 

"Merry Christmas, my babygirl," I cooed. 

"I'm so glad this world exists Sarah, and that I get to escape to it with you."  

Happy holidays, from Sarah Jane and Mandy!

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Christmas Cards

  

Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Brazen

[M/ff] [family taboo] [step-dad] [DDLG] [Daddy] [little] [babygirl] [BDSM] [kink] [cuckquean] [spanking] [humiliation] [cornertime] [dungeon] [bondage]

**Warning - This story contains taboo, family-dynamic, BDSM content** 

**Everyone depicted in this story and A.I. generated are adults, over the age of 18** 

The sun streamed through my bedroom windows as Daddy snuck into my room this morning and went down on me. Despite my dominant ministrations from the night before, I couldn't help but fall deeply into submission once again, as his strong hands gripped my throat while he ate me out in a diaper position. While I was basking in the afterglow of a powerful orgasm, Daddy announced that he had a surprise for me. 

I immediately rushed to the shower to start the day, and spent the next while dressing like a little girl for him and doing myself up to look like a doll. I selected an innocent lavender dress with little ankle socks and matching heels. I half-assumed the little socks would at least stir his memories of last night. 

A thrill ran through my body at the prospect of another secret shared between us. My curiosity piqued, I obediently followed him as he led me down the unfamiliar wooden staircase to the basement. The air grew noticeably colder, and the distant hum of furnaces gave way to an eerie white noise. My heartbeat quickened in anticipation, each echoing step down the hallway leading us further from the safety of the main house. 

Finally, we reached a heavy oak door that I had never noticed before, hidden amongst the shadows of the storage area. The metal lock clinked open under Daddy's firm hand, and he pushed it aside to reveal a dimly lit corridor. The scent of damp earth and aged wood wafted towards me, making my mouth water in excitement. I had no idea what awaited me beyond this threshold, but I trusted him completely. 

Hand in hand, we ventured down the labyrinth, my breath hitching with every click of my heels. As we rounded the corner, a vast space unfolded before us - a hidden wine cellar!

It's ancient stone walls were lined with countless bottles, casting a warm, golden glow onto the cold, damp floor. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw that this wasn't just any ordinary wine cellar. 

In a far corner of the room, my jaw dropped as I discovered an array of sinister objects that seemed out of place amidst the elegant rows of wine bottles. Racks upon racks of leather whips, floggers, and paddles stood sentinel, their tails swaying as we approached. I could almost hear their whispers of pain and pleasure. To my left, a large cage loomed menacingly, its bars thick and unyielding - a stark reminder of the captivating bondage games that were played here. And to my right, several spanking benches and apparatus, their padded surfaces and strategic restraints promising hours of disciplinary delight. 

The room buzzed with unspoken desires, and my body responded instinctively, my nipples hardening and my pussy growing slick with anticipation.

Standing before the display of dungeon furniture, I felt the weight of Daddy's expectant gaze upon me. My breath caught in my throat as he issued his command: "Strip, Tara." His tone was firm, yet steady, betraying none of the emotions I knew must be swirling within him. I hesitated for only a moment, savouring the mixture of fear and arousal coursing through my veins.

Piece by piece, I removed my articles of clothing, starting with my frilly lavender dress, which I let fall carelessly to the ground. Next came my bra and panties, equally as frilly and adorable. As I slipped those off too, I could feel the cool air caress my bare skin, making goosebumps rise in their wake. My socks and heels followed suit, leaving me standing naked in this clandestine wine cellar.

The combination of being naked and in such proximity to this torture chamber only heightened my sense of vulnerability and curiosity, knowing that I was about to explore a side of myself I never thought possible. I cast my discarded clothing aside, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of my own body, bathed in the dim light of the wall sconces. 

My breasts rose and fell with every shallow breath, my pert nipples stiff and begging for attention. My hips swayed subtly from side to side, and my legs trembled as I anticipated what Daddy had planned for me in this forbidden lair. 

Daddy's commands became increasingly short and authoritative, as if the atmosphere of the room had taken hold of him. He walked over to a sturdy bondage apparatus nestled amongst the wine barrels and gestured for me to come to him. I stepped onto the smooth surface of a platform and positioned my ankles and wrists near the restraints. 

Daddy approached me slowly, savouring the sight of my exposed and vulnerable form. He attached the heavy metal cuffs supported by the frame, securing one ankle, then the other, spreading my legs wide. The sounds of metal teeth clicking into place sent shivers directly to my pussy, as I realized that I was truly at his mercy. Next came my wrists, bound helplessly above my head, rendering me drawn and stretched onto my helpless tiptoes.

I felt the unforgiving rigidness of the metal shackles as they encircled my dainty wrists, holding me in place and arching my bottom invitingly. I whimpered softly, my breaths coming in rapid gasps, unable to tear my eyes away from the various collection of implements that hung nearby, wondering which ones would soon make contact with my defenseless flesh. 

In a swift movement that surprised me, Daddy grabbed a large ball gag from the rack of hanging implements. Without a word, he stuffed it forcefully into my mouth, effectively silencing my protests and pleas. The intrusion made my eyes water, but also heightened my sensitivity to the sounds around me, the wetness between my legs growing more pronounced. 

I squirmed slightly as he fastened the straps behind my head, ensuring the gag remained securely in place. Next, a soft piece of fabric brushed against my face. I blinked rapidly, trying to focus before my world went dark. 

With my vision obscured and my body immobilized, I was acutely aware of every sound that reverberated through the stone chamber. My ears strained to pick up any indication of Daddy's intentions, and I soon detected the unmistakable sound of a flogger being taken down from its rack. The leather tendrils whispered together as he practiced a few swings, the anticipation building within me like a crescendo. 

And then, the agony of waiting was over. The air cracked around me as the flogger connected with my tender flesh, eliciting a strangled cry from deep within my throat. The pain was exquisite, radiating outwards from the point of impact and causing my entire body to convulse. I couldn't believe it. I was being whipped! 

Over and over again, the lashes rained down, alternating between my ass, thighs, back and tits, each strike more intense that the last. My skin burned and stung, yet beneath it all, I could feel the heat of desire pooling inside me. 

With each skillful stroke, my body writhed in ecstatic torment. Unbidden, my hips rocked back and fourth, seeking relief from the fiery ache that consumed me. 

 

I couldn't believe it - I was actually enjoying this! But then, something else happened. I felt a warm, wet sensation between my legs, and I knew with a sudden rush of shame, I was soaking my inner thighs. My juices trickled down my tender folds, creating little strands of connecting precum. I wanted to hide, to curl up a die from embarrassment, but the relentless whipping continued, driving me higher and higher until I was trembling. 

The knowledge that Daddy could see this intimate display, this proof of my submission, only added to my mortification. Yet, deep down, I couldn't deny the twisted pride that swelled within me at having pleased him so thoroughly. 

As suddenly as it had begun, the flogging ceased. For a brief moment, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the sound of my laboured breaths echoing off the stone walls. Then, like a lion claiming its prey, I heard the unmistakable sound of Daddy's zipper being yanked down and his pants falling to the floor. Before I could process what was happening, I felt him behind me, his solid presence filling the empty space. He positioned himself between my spread legs, and the blunt tip of his cock nudged against my dripping entrance. 

With no warning, Daddy thrust forward, impaling me on his rigid cock. I moaned wantonly into the ball gag, my body yielding to his brutal invasion. 

Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves through me, my breasts bouncing and jiggling in prefect rhythm. My hands clenched and unclenched uselessly in their restraints, seeking some semblance of control as he ravaged me.

My remaining senses were overwhelmed - the scent of aged leather mingled with sweat and sex, the feel of Daddy's hot breath on the nape of my neck, the taste of the rubber gag filling my mouth. I was utterly consumed by this experience, and it didn't take long before I felt the telltale signs of a ferocious orgasm. It started low in my tummy, like a distant rumble, before exploding outward like a tidal wave. I screamed into the gag, the sound muffled but still ringing out in the cavernous space. My muscles clenched around him, milking his cock for everything it had, as I rode the crest of pleasure and pain. 

After what seemed like hours of ceaseless pleasure and torment, Daddy finally released me from my bonds. He carefully unlocked the cuffs away from my raw skin, his gentle touch in stark contrast to the brutality that had just transpired. I collapsed onto my knees, my legs feeling like gelatin.  

Lifting me effortlessly into his strong arms, he carried me up the narrow, dimly lit steps leading out of the cellar and toward the ruffled pink warmth of my bedroom. I felt small and delicate in his embrace, my legs weak from exhaustion. 

When we reached the sanctuary of my room, he deposited me onto the plush comforter of my princess bed. I collapsed into a boneless heap, the remnants of my release still pulsing through me. Daddy didn't say a word as he pulled the blankets up to my shoulders, his movements slow and loving. He stroked my tangled hair back from my forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment as if to memorize the contours of my face. Then, with a final squeeze of my hand, he turned and left me alone with my thoughts. 

As the door clicked shut behind Daddy, I couldn't help but let my hand drift down between my legs, tracing the slick trail he left behind. My mind raced with memories of the cellar, the delicious combination of fear, arousal and humiliation threatening to consume me once more. With trembling fingers, I began to massage my clit, replaying every lash of the whip, every thrust of Daddy's cock, in vivid detail. 

Within seconds my body responded eagerly, my nipples hardening to tiny points and my breath quickening. My other hand found its way to my tits, pinching and pulling at the sensitive peak. I imagined myself back in the cellar, bound and helpless, completely at Daddy's mercy. My fingers slipped inside my aching pussy, sliding easily through the slickness that coated my petals. 

I reached for a toy and as I began to fuck myself, I recalled the way Daddy's eyes darkened with lust as he watched my body writhe in response to his dominance. I remembered how his cock felt, slick with my own desire, as he plunged it mercilessly into me. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking friction against the toy that would send me spiralling over the edge once more. My breaths grew shallow and ragged, as I chased after the fleeting fragments of pleasure that lingered in the wake of our encounter. 

Once the final waves of my post-orgasmic haze subsided, I reluctantly slipped out of bed, my body still singing with the sweet agony of satisfaction. I quickly cleaned myself up in the en-suite bathroom before rummaging through my lingerie drawer for the perfect, skimpy outfit. The lace trim tickled my thighs as I pulled on the baby doll nightie, adding over the knee socks and high heels. I couldn't resist a small giggle at how ridiculously cute I looked. I brushed my hair into pigtails and applied a hint of gloss to my lips, knowing full well the effect it would have on Daddy. 

Descending the grand staircase, I tried my best to walk gracefully in my high heels. The sound of my clicking footsteps echoed throughout the expansive foyer. I approached the living room where I knew Daddy would be, my cheeks flushing with equal parts trepidation and excitement. 

My eyes immediately locked onto Daddy's, drinking in the sight of him sitting comfortably and reading. He stood as I entered the room, admiring my darling outfit selection. Without hesitation, I launched myself into his waiting arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing my body flush against his. 

I could feel his surprise, but also the stirring of desire as I nestled my head into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply of his familiar scent. 

"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered against his ear. "I love you!"

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Revelations