Showing posts with label gag. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gag. Show all posts

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Brazen

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

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 💋








 














Wednesday, January 17, 2024

A Mouth Punishment?

Continued from: My Pet

A Sarah Jane story

Hi, everyone, it's Sarah. 

Daddy is away on a work conference thingy and I got myself into trouble in his absence. That didn't take long. Sheesh! He's only be gone for two days.

He's left me like this before, for similar reasons and usually he locks me up in a very secure chastity belt. There would be an emergency key left behind for me but it would be in a lockbox that only he has the code to. I haven't had to use this option before, but the process would involve me having to message or call Daddy, explain the emergency in which I need to be unlocked, then he would give me the code.  

But...like I said. I have never had to use this lifeline. I just suffer through the throbbing sensation of being locked up and denied. I have to piss through the metal screening, poop through the anal opening provided and take extra care in cleaning and hygiene. If I leave the house, I have to adjust my wardrobe accordingly, so the belt is hidden. 

It's humiliating, frustratingly arousing and embarrassing to be locked up. The perfect cocktail of emotions for a naughty slut like me. 

However! Daddy didn't lock me up in his absence this time. Nor did he get me his favourite babysitter (Mistress Andrea). He said he wanted to distance-play with me while he was away. 

Awww! My heart! 💕 My Daddy!

So play we did!

Yesterday I had to log in and work from home, including some zoom calls with my colleagues. Daddy told me to dress in my schoolgirl attire. My age-regressed lower half hidden from my colleagues, my upper half professional. I even wore a school-tie which looked professional to my team and not weird. But my face burned red with humiliation, as I knew the tie was just an accessory to a very short plaid skirt, ruffled ankle socks and Mary Janes that I was hiding below. 


Daddy let me wear full pantyhose too, because it's been freakin' cold lately. So I just slipped my ruffle socks over my hosed feet. The whole ensemble had me feeling very adorable, yet I knew the reason Daddy dressed me this way, is that I was due for a maintenance spanking, between zoom calls. 

*Gulp*

Daddy had me lay these out in preparation. I knew I would be receiving all three. 


Imagine readers, how this feels for an adult woman. Sitting behind a computer working and engaging in meetings while dressed like a schoolgirl, knowing that at some point during the day, you're going to be spanked. I was nervous with butterflies, I was humiliated and my crotch was wet. So shameful! 

When the time came I put myself in timeout, nose to the corner and hands on my head. I set up my phone and took a timer-photo to send to Daddy. 

"I'm ready for my spanking Daddy."  I sent, along with this photo: 


Daddy simply responded with a: 

"35 lashes with the belt please, over your pantyhose and panties, then 25 on each cheek with the hairbrush, then 25 on each cheek with the bathbrush." 

Yes...I spank myself when Daddy orders it. It can never compare to the real thing, being over his knee. But it helps to scratch my itch. 

My knickers and hose provided decent layers of protection from the belt, but the dense wood of the brushes burnt right though my protective layers. 

Next came the same allotment of strokes, only this time, hose down and over my panties.

Now I was starting to sting and redden-up. I already knew what was coming next, Daddy sent the message anyway...

"35 with the belt, and 25 per cheek with each brush, on the BARE!" My last layer of protection was stripped away. I did an ok job on myself. Again, it can never compare to the real thing, yet my cunt couldn't tell the difference. She was soaked! *blush*


I sent Daddy this one, seeking his approval that I had done a good enough job on myself. I was praised and rewarded with the opportunity to masturbate for him. I am never, ever allowed to have a vanilla orgasm. That being said, his next instructions were to neatly lay out my ring-gag, lubricant for my asshole and a butt plug of my choosing. 

I obeyed right away and sent Daddy this. I was eager to have a cummy for him! 


Unfortunately I had some work matters to attend to first, so my masturbation was delayed a bit. When I wiggled free of a zoom call meeting, I rushed into Daddy's room and plugged my asshole as he requested. 

I set up my phone to film. I didn't have to include my face in the video, Daddy only wanted to hear me cum, so the filming was more to capture the audio. In no time flat I was screaming out, "I'm cumming Dadddddddyyyyyyy!"


It was a wonderfully powerful orgasm. My hungry little asshole clenched that plug so tightly when I began to spasm. I was loud too! Like porn-star loud! 

I love being Daddy's little porn-star. 💗🌟

Proudly, I sent my video to Daddy right away. He was driving. Then he tells me he's going to listen to it through his car audio. 

Gawd, I was so embarrassed! 

A few moments later though, my stomach sunk! This was our text exchange leading up to and after he listened to my clip.  

FUCK! Fuck fuck...

Look at my image above, masturbating on the bed. Do you see a gag in my mouth as I was instructed to do?! I laid one out and even photographed it for Christ sakes.  

Fuck! I completely forget and now I'm in deep shit. I have no excuse and I must accept my punishment, likely when Daddy gets home. 

You remember the rules in our house? Punishments fit the offence. If I am caught with a run in my hosiery, the soles of my feet get whipped. Caught masturbating without permission, my bare cunt gets whipped...you get the idea. 

What's a mouth punishment?? 

Likely a mouth soaping. Which really fuckin' sucks! Especially in Daddy's house and let me tell you why. Check this out: 


This is SOAP!! This is a fucking bar of soap, in our bathroom. It remains proudly displayed on the sink, as a reminder to me. This is the sink where I brush my teeth each morning and night, where I am forced to look at this stupid soap-dick that has been in my mouth many times before. 


Bratty, back-sass, too much swearing...and coming soon...forgetting to gag my mouth when Daddy asks. 

He's already declared that I'm going to be punished when he gets home. I am only surmising that it'll be the soap dick, since the violation relates to my mouth. I just hope it isn't. 

The last time I got a mouth soaping I was marched to the bathroom fully naked, wearing only heels that I was wobbling in. I had to bend fully at the waist and use my own saliva to get a lather on the soap dick. Daddy paddled my bare bum to encourage me to give it head and to deepthroat the phallically veiny soap. It was a dreadful and effective punishment. 

After I saw the message from Daddy on this occasion, that I was going to be punished, my tummy was sick with butterflies. I assumed it would be the heavy wooden paddle and the soap dick for sure!

I wasn't wrong, but much to my surprise I had a choice. A predicament. Daddy loves giving me predicaments. So I am forced to choose my own punishment and choose between the lesser of two evils. Then stew over my choice until Daddy gets home. 

As expected, he offered me "mouth soaping". As I explained above, this means paddled on the bare bum until I break and begin to suck the soap dildo frantically, to bring an end to the paddling. 

But then...Butt then, pun intended...a second option from Daddy. 

Would I prefer to perform ass-to-mouth with another girl, using a dildo...

Like...she fucks me with a strap-on then I kneel and suck her? Or she uses a dildo into her asshole then fucks my mouth with it?? Or even worse!! Daddy fucks her in the ass then mashes his cock into my mouth??!!

I don't know what to choose...but I have to choose! Please help...

Sarah Jane
xoxo

Continued in: ATM



 


 







 





Thursday, October 26, 2023

Like Crazy

Continued from: The Fourth Guest

Last night I hosted a kink party in the Upper Floor space at my Facility. It was not only a chance for Sarah Jane to make her sex slave debut (or so she thought), but also an opportunity to treat Russell to an early release from the torment of his Locktober. 


Yes, he got let out early on good behaviour. Additionally, I felt bad for him having to endure the month-long added torment of having to deal with the cuteness overload of Summer, and the abrasive fury of Cassandra. 

He didn't realize however, until last night, that this was all an elaborate masquerade, planned and executed by yours truly. 😈

For the first time ever, Russell has graciously offered to write this post. He is far more of a hopeless romantic than I am...and I'm a little too choked-up to type right now. So...without further adieu, take it away Russ...

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

Good day everyone. From what I understand I guess I have been a "regular", in Mistress Andrea's blog for a bit? This is both humbling and a bit embarrassing, especially now that I realize that I've been duped, for the entire month of October. Not duped in a bad way. Duped by the creatively devious mind of Mistress Andrea and her two minions. 

To Summer,


I know that you were not my keyholder for this Locktober experience but it was a pleasure serving you.

I can't say that I have ever met someone who can run the full spectrum from absolutely adorable and "little", to the confident feminine strides of your Flight Attendant attire. You're so delightfully cute that I want a miniature version of you to hang from my rear-view mirror!

I took great pleasure in getting to know you better this past month, despite your tormenting approach to things. Take good care of Andrea for me, as I know you will. She is very special to me and from what I've seen, you two are perfect for each other. 

I know you were just playing your role, when you told me to take this photo of you for my "spank bank". 


Kinda difficult to indulge when my penis was locked in a cage, don't you think? Oh, and it tickled when you began massaging my cock cage with your furry socks. You're cruel! In the best possible way, but I no longer need to keep this photo. 

Take care Summer. Until we meet again...

To Cassandra, 


It's a relief to know that with you around, The Facility will never be short on crazy! Haha. 

You just keep being you, regardless of what anyone thinks. You are mature beyond your years and even though your personal mantra is, "I hate every guy I meet", there's someone out there for you. Just try not to break them on the first date, ok? 

Thank you...I think, for your involvement in my chastity sentence. I know you were not my keyholder.

Keep an eye on Mistress Andrea for me. As much as you need her and her strict lap, for your own therapeutic needs, she needs you too. You've become her enforcer, her safety blanket and her second in command. It's a good role for you. 


If I'm ever feeling like I need to pay dearly or suffer, just for being male, I'll look you up, but for now, I'm good!

To my dearest Andrea, 


I knew what I had to do last night, I just didn't know if I'd have the strength to do it...To finally say goodbye to you. 

Long ago, you and I both agreed that the tough thing about following your heart, is that sometimes it takes you places you shouldn't be. Places that are as scary as they are exciting, and as dangerous as they are alluring. 

And sometimes, your heart takes you places that may never lead to a happy ending...

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

Last night, after throwing on a suit and preparing to head to the Upper Floor party, I was intercepted by Mistress Andrea on the way there. She told me that I had done well during Locktober and that she felt a little bad that she used Summer and Cassie as weapons, to make my denied state even more excruciating.

I 100% believed that Andrea was my keyholder all along, until, to my surprise, she told me she was not.


"Your true keyholder is waiting for you in my room. You're free, Russell." She seductively cooed to me. 

I was sensing some symbolism behind all of this, or subliminal messages in her choice of words. It all made sense when we both made our way to Andrea's bedroom, where I found Sarah Jane bound to the bed, gagged and blindfolded. 


Initially I was puzzled, until I moved closer and saw what was around her neck. Ahhh. Now I get it...

Very clever Andrea, well done!


Andrea stayed silent, gesturing with her hand around her own neck and her other hand motioning to rip the necklace off. Then she nodded her head toward the bound and helpless Sarah.

Sarah gasped when I grabbed her by the neck, then I grabbed the thin chain that contained the key to my chastity device. I stripped it right off her in one fluid motion, breaking the chain in the process. 

Mistress smiled and nodded at me. It was her implied consent to go ahead and unlock myself. I undid my belt, my zipper and accessed the rigid, metal device. For the first time in almost a month, my cock was bare and free.

I realized this was not only a surprise for me but it would be a special moment for Sarah Jane as well. Apparently she assumed she was going to be serving in the Upper Floor as a sex slave tonight and that some random "client" was about to savagely ravage her. 

I'll do the honours, thank you very much! 

I grabbed a rose and moved in. 


Goosebumps consumed Sarah's entire body, as I ran the soft petals of the rose, up her tummy and onto her breasts. I circled the flesh of the petals around her nipples, back down her stomach and across her pussy. The rise and fall of her chest intensified, before I finally removed her blindfold. 

DAAAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!!

She squealed out through her gag, as I watched her eyes, once filled with lust and desperation, begin to fill with tears. 


I got her quickly un-bound and got the gag out of her mouth. The little snuggle-bug jumped into my arms and just squeezed me, gently sobbing tears of complete joy. 

Mistress, who was witness to all of this, began to speak very softly, in her best "Mommy" tone.  

"Sarah huni...You have the choice of coming with me, to the Upper Floor, where you can continue your journey as a sex slave of this Facility. 

Or...

"You can stay here with Russell, and be HIS!"


Sarah didn't even hesitate. She kissed my lips and had the biggest smile on her face. 

"Daddy I love you! I wanna stay with you, Daddy!" 

I looked over at Andrea and caught her dabbing a tissue against her eyes. I knew it was time to let her go. I knew in my heart, that what was most important to me was right in front of me, in my arms actually! 

"I love you. I love you like crazy, little one" I told Sarah for the first time. 

Andrea just smiled at the pair of us, and clicked out of the room. 

I cradled Sarah in my arms and gently dropped her onto the bed. We giggled and kissed and tangled into each other until Sarah finally spoke.


"Daddy...can you tie me up again and take me? I'm all YOURS!" 

Russell

xoxo

Continued in: Minute Man









 







  




  

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

The Stable Master

Continued from: Ponytail

A Sarah Jane story: The Stable Master

I was still freaking out and fixated on the line, "be brave." Which was the last thing Bella said to me before she left my training stall to await the arrival of Mistress Andrea. When Mistress eventually appeared, her immersion into the scene was incredible as always. She was such an arousing and intimidating figure, oozing with feminine power and sexuality. 


In her right hand she held a horse whip. Or a riding crop I guess it's commonly known. She also had a lunge whip, like this: 


My bare ass and hips were not looking forward to that vicious, thin strand of leather. Fuck, that whip had a bite to it when I eventually felt it kiss my bare thighs...but that came later on. First, I had to be accessorized. 

The tone in my stall was very formal and proper. Bella was addressing Mistress as "Madam Trainer". A Stable Master she was not...Stable Madam maybe? 

While they were basking in their old-English formalities, I didn't feel quite as elegant as the manner in which they were speaking. I felt far more degraded and dirty. Bare naked near a straw bale, in a makeshift farm-stall, with my tits dangling like a cow and drool bubbling from my mouth-bit. 


The situation got incredibly worse for me, when Mistress unraveled the garden hose and sprayed down my pussy and asshole. I screamed into my bit-gag from the shock of the water blast. It wasn't cold but it certainly wasn't warm water either, coming out of that hose-nozzle. 


Thankfully, Bella was close-by with a towel, to pat-dry my shamefully exposed bum hole and cunt. When the soft towel made contact I flinched. My mind was racing as I pulled against my restraints to try and free myself. Every sensation was heightened, my heart was pounding out of my chest and I was flinching and twitching with every touch, just like a pony.

Next I felt a big glob of cold lubricant, on the end of Mistress' finger that had just invaded my asshole. Her leather-gloved digit penetrated me with ease, but I still clenched immediately, squeezing her tightly. 

Right away Mistress noticed my squeezing, my futile attempt to repel the intruder from my anus. 

"Good guuuuuurl," she praised. Then she proceeded to clack her tongue against the roof of her mouth, as if she was calling a horse. 

*tutt* *tut* 

"Squeeze me again, that's it," she said. As she continued her mouth-clacking: *tutt-tut* *tutt-tut*

I clenched and squeezed her finger a second time...OMFG! 

I was trying to be brave, like Bella said, but the tears were coming. I've never felt so dirty and dehumanized in my entire life!! 

In my mind I was repeating "yellow", "yellow", "yellow", over and over again. I wanted to say it, to bring an end to this horror, but my naughty cunt didn't let me. My filthy whore of a cunt was loving this...and I hated her for it!  

Next came a moan, an audible confirmation of my arousal and lust. It was a whorish, guttural *groan* actually, that escaped my gagged mouth, as Bella seated the girthy tail-plug into my ass. 


I could feel my pussy pulsating, they were tremors of arousal as my clit ached for attention. Bella helped me down and out of my bondage and held me tight. I was trembling in her arms while Mistress used a hairbrush to brush out my actual ponytail. 

They helped me into thigh-high stockings, so my feet and legs would more easily glide into the elaborate boots. 


They weren't quite hoof-boots, which I have seen on the internet before. I was slightly relieved. Actual hooves, head-harnesses with ears and pulling a carriage around the lawn would have broken me. I would have safe-worded out of that level of humiliation. It didn't seem like Mistress Andrea's style, and I was glad when this was confirmed. 


My pony-boots were like a platform heel but without the heel, so they forced me onto tip-toe. I stood at attention before Madam Trainer and kept my head high and alert. The posture of the boots caused my entire core to tighten, my legs to flex and my hungry bum-hole to clench around the tail-plug. 

Every strand of soft leather had a buckle, every connecting point on my body had a padlock. My arms were trapped within a binder that kept them folded behind my back and above my bum. This served to thrust my tits forward while exposing my ass and hips for the sizzle of the whips. 

The elaborate ensemble was finally finished with two clamps on my nipples, each with a brass bell. As I hobbled around the stall in those dreadful boots, my tits would occasionally jingle and all the padlocks would clatter. My restrained and over-stimulated body was reacting in ways I couldn't explain. Aching with whorish arousal, sickened with humiliation and not knowing whether to cry or to beg Mistress to let me cum.



I half-expected that I was going to receive a whipping first, but much to the relief of my throbbing cunt, "Madam Trainer" decided to fuck me instead. Very simply, Bella started filming from the corner of the stall, Mistress attached reins to my bit-gag so my head was guided upwards, forcing me to look into the camera. Then she lifted my tail out of the way and plunged a strap-on into my pussy. 


The minutes that followed were an embarrassing symphony of guttural moans, muffled by my gag, the jingle of bells, and that shameful mixing of Kraft Dinner sound, emanating from my sloppy cunt.

I was experiencing a range of emotion and sensation that far exceeded anything I had endured at this Facility before. All of this felt like I was now operating at a different level of submission, more elite, if that makes sense? Like this whole journey of mine was still in the minor leagues, but today, I just made it to the majors...and this was only day ONE, of I don't know how many more to come, in the stalls!!

FUCK! What have I gotten myself into? 

As I sit here typing this for all of you and reflecting on how many times I just shamefully orgasmed and dripped onto that straw floor, my entire body feels like I spent six hours at the gym. 


Despite the body aches, my legs and ass feel tight and jacked! My core feels like I've done 1000 crunches. Who needs a gym membership? I'd rather be a pony slave! 

sarah jane xoxo

 
Continued in: When the Cat is Away...


     
 


 
 

  

 


 

The Fetish Factory

Continued from:  Tyler Scott **Caution. This story contains intense CNC (consensual non consent) content told by our A.I. generated version ...