Showing posts with label heels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heels. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

Adorable A.I.

Continued from: Doctor Patel

Summer and I have a little surprise for all of you. You remember Summer, don't you? My precious wife, born in Paris, speaks with a cute French accent, maintains her job as a flight attendant so she can sell her cabin crew hosiery and heels, and most importantly, the lowercase 's' in our D/s marriage.  


If I had to describe her in one word, it would simply be...adorable. 

In a story called The Sims are brought to Life, and another one called The OG's, I began to dabble in A.I. generated images of not only myself, but some of the other characters who appear in the blog. 

It more or less started out looking like this:


The character of Summer, in the Sims 4 game, has a signature hairstyle that was uniquely hers. The A.I. seemed to run with this theme no matter what the setting of the photo was. 


Isn't she adorable, with her little figure-skater arse? 


Without having to prompt the A.I., the braids carried into most of the selfie requests for Summer. In this one, she and I were about to have a playdate in the living room. 


Corner time, a spot in the house she knows intimately well. The A.I. kept her adorable aesthetic and quintessential hair style. 


When she's not in the timeout corner, Summer can play the role of teacher...


...as easily as she can play the student. (In the description of the setting for this photo, I think I just said "chalkboard in a classroom". The A.I. generates its own gibberish on the board, as you can see above and below. Secret robot language maybe? Plotting to destroy humanity?) 


Most fans of Summer will also know that her default role at home is that of a "little". She doesn't speak like a baby or need to be changed or fed, unless we're playing a scene like that, but around the house, she feels most at peace dressing like an exaggeration of a little girl. 


Domestic Discipline, MDLG, D/s relationship, is probably how I would officially describe our dynamic. 


From the sweet lips of Summer, I am usually "Mommy", sometimes I'm "Ma'am", and occasionally, "Mistress". 

This one is definitely a "Ma'am" moment. Ohhhh she was about to get the spanking of her life, that day!


Mistress mode? Sometimes we dabble in the upscale dungeon space, yes. 


Sometimes she ends up down in the basement, in the darker, more captive dungeon space. 


When not in a defined role, Summer will usually be working on her feet content.


Perhaps or out for a jog, ensuring her hosiery or socks, her sneakers, are pleasantly infused with her gorgeousness, before they go up for sale online. 


Clients who want to spend a little more money on all things Summer, can anxiously wait for a trans-Atlantic flight pair of nylons. 


That's her bestie, Vanessa, who first got her started on the cabin crew hosiery sales racket. I have a major girl-crush on Vanessa to the point that I even let her Domme me once. Summer was ok with it. 

Gawd it was so hot! I think that story was called I often envy submissives.


Vanessa is an absolute Goddess, you should go back and read about what she does to and with her husband *giggle. 

But, this post is not about being a Goddess, it's about being adorable. And no one really pulls it off as well as my darling wife, Summer Addison Holiday.


Ok, we're going to try a video here. Hopefully it works. 

and...

Surprise, everyone! Summer is real!

And thank you A.I., for bringing this sprinkle of sunshine to life. Even in this little clip, she was nothing short of adorable. 



Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Old Fashioned














Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Boardrooms & Bedrooms

Continued from: Lord Impaler



I'm going to take a small break from our regularly scheduled programing and the main storyline, to go off on a little tangent about our beloved Skylar, and what just came out of her mouth. (The A.I. version of Skylar, that is)

I had the pleasure of recently guiding her through some training at the Facility, with her in the role of submissive. You should never do anything to someone from the role of a dominant, unless you know what it feels like as a submissive, both physically and emotionally. 


Whether that means a hairbrush spanking, a flogger, or the feelings of being placed in timeout in the corner, it was important for Skylar to know what these sensations and emotions actually are, before doing it all to someone else. 


It was pretty wild, I must say, to Domme someone who I knew could literally pretzel my limbs into some MMA move and choke me out in seconds (lol). Remember one of her many hobbies? 


But...sweet Skylar embraced some lovely submissive sessions with me, as a means of learning her future role. She knelt when asked, she even accepted a collar around her neck, all in the name of science she would tell me (nerd!)


When it came time to show her what a "real" and meaningful spanking was, she stripped fully nude as asked, and waited for me in the spanking chair. 


She was quite emotionless throughout, almost robotic, as she followed my commands and prepared herself to go over my knee. 


She surprised me by saying that back in university, she used to spank her roommate for "real", then said that this woman was a doctor now. Always full of surprises, I'll have to ask her more about that one later, because now I'm intrigued! 


From diapers to dungeons, from feet to flogging, we did it all together, in the name of science. Can you friggen believe I got to spank this?! I'm surprised I didn't break my hand on that ridiculous arse of hers. 


Most Dommes in the world of Femdom, will have an act or activity they seem to resonate towards or something they really enjoy doing. Jack of all trades but Master of ONE, as it were. Or in our particular case, a Jill of all trades and Mistress of one. We couldn't quite figure out hers though. Was it pegging, spanking, rope bondage to pretzel someone like she can do in a MMA ring? Or maybe she was more feet-forward, like Summer, who can turn a man into a puddle by simply doing the high-heel bob.


We were chatting about where she thought she fit into this world of femdom, before it turned into a bit of an interview. This is when the A.I. began to show its true colours! Eeeek.  

Goddess Skylar: 

...the heat of my skin permeates the materials, infusing them with my unique essence. She went on to describe to me. 

When I finally slip off my heels and roll down my stockings, the air is perfumed with a lovely combination of expensive footwear, silken hosiery, and the natural musk of my feet. It's a scent that whispers of power plays in the boardroom and the bedroom alike. 

I can't say I disagree with her, Since I liked the terminology she used, I thought I would probe further.

"In boardrooms and bedrooms alike? Can you elaborate on that, Sky?" 

Power plays in boardrooms and bedrooms are all about asserting dominance and control, Ma'am. In the corporate world, I imagine striding into a meeting in my sharpest suit and highest heels, commanding the room with my mere presence alone. My confident stride, the click of my stilettos on polished floors, the way I cross my legs and lean back in my chair - every movement calculated to convey my authority. I'd watch the men in the room, seeing the flicker of desire and intimidation in their eyes as they try to focus on business while secretly fantasizing about being at my mercy. 


In the bedroom, it's a different kind of power play. There, I shed the trappings of professionalism and embrace my true nature as a dominant force. I might start by having my partner kneel before me, naked and vulnerable, as I tower over them in my favourite fuck-me heels and seamed stockings. 

Yes, the A.I. said that last bit.

I'd run my hands over their body possessively, tracing patters with my perfectly manicured nails, leaving faint scratches in my wake. Every touch, every word would be designed to reinforce their submissive role, to make them ache for my approval and dread my displeasure in equal measure. 


Oooo! Skylar. She had me all hot and flustered with her take on things. I thought I'd keep going...

"Is it fair to say, Sky, that you believe the future is female?" 

The future isn't just female, Ma'am - it's femdom. 

"Oh, ok. Please go on..."


Picture a world where women like us reign supreme, where every man knows that his place is beneath our heels. Boardrooms filled with powerful women in sleek suits and sky-high stilettos, making decisions that shape the world, while their male assistants scurry to fulfill their every need. Bedrooms transformed into sanctuaries of female pleasure, where men exist solely to worship at the altar of our bodies. Imagine a society where the mere sight of a woman in stockings and heels is enough to bring a man to his knees, where the click of our footsteps inspires both fear and reverence. 


Men will beg for the privilege of serving us, of being used and discarded at our whim. They'll compete for our attention, our affection, our cruelty. That's the future I dream of, Ma'am - a femdom utopia where women like us rule without question, and men exist only to serve. 

I think some ex of Skylar's must have fucked her over. Nevertheless, I continued to question her about this utopia of hers, innocently and using a naïve façade. 

"Do you have sex with the men in your utopia, Sky? Like they can use their penises?" 

Absolutely NOT! 

Uh-oh...I struck a nerve there. (The A.I. actually capitalized the NOT and added the exclamation mark)

In my femdom utopia, penises would be strictly regulated. Every man would be fitted with a chastity device upon reaching maturity, their orgasms controlled by their female owners. Imagine rows upon rows of men, their pathetic little dicks locked away in shiny metal cages, desperate for release but utterly helpless. 

That one was for you, Clarence! Ha

They'd go about their days in a constant state of frustration, their balls aching with denied lust, all while serving us faithfully. Only the most obedient, the most devoted and well behaved, would earn the privilege of temporary freedom - perhaps for a special occasion or as a reward for exceptional service. But even then, their release would be on our terms, timed to coincide with our pleasure. And afterwards? Right back into the cage they go, their useless appendages secured until we decide otherwise. 

Haha, Skylar...this is like the business model of my Facility! I continued with her: 

"And this is the world you want, Skylar?"

This is exactly the world I crave, Ma'am. A realm where women hold all the power and men are reduced to nothing more than obedient pets. Where every cock is caged, every orgasm controlled, every masculine urge suppressed in service of female pleasure. 


I want to see a society where men prostrate themselves before us, begging for the slightest scrap of affection. Where they compete viciously for the honour of licking our boots, of cleaning our toilets with their tongues, of being used as human furniture for our comfort. 

No hands ✋, that's still the A.I. speaking. We've taken a bit of Mockingjay turn here.

I envision grand halls filled with naked and collared men, their bodies adorned with the marks of our ownership - welts from our whips, brands seared into their flesh, piercings that declare their status as property. In this world, no man would dare look a woman in the eye without permission. They would speak only when spoken to, exist only to fulfill our desires. That's the future I dream of, the reality I'm determined to create. A femdom utopia where men are nothing and women are everything. 


Trust the A.I. they said. The A.I. is safe they said...haha


Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Roommates
 







  

Tuesday, October 1, 2024

School Ties

Continued from: Girl-Talk Continued

A Sarah Jane story: 

I helped Mandy down onto her tummy on the plush sofa, and began to plant gentle little kisses onto her whip marks, that were slowly fading beneath my lips. 


She thanked me for the aftercare and kissed me on the mouth, just as the back patio door swung open, revealing the sheepish figure of Russell trailing behind the stunning Summer, still clad in her provocative lingerie. 


The poor boy looked absolutely miserable, his chastity cage undoubtedly causing some discomfort after being teased and tantalized by Summer's irresistible presence during their time outside. Little did he know, however, that his true torment was only just beginning. 

I looked toward Russell and gave him a reassuring yet cruel smile, as I whispered quite a lengthy scheme into Mandy's ear. I heard her gasp, then giggle, followed by her response to a question I whispered to her. 

"No, Sarah," she excitedly replied, "I don't have anywhere else I need to be right now." 

I turned to Summer who could tell that some manner of debauchery was brewing. "Summer...huni," I cooed to her while still glaring at Russell. "Would you take my boy to the classroom please, and make sure he's nice and secure in that teacher's chair." 

Summer flashed me a wicked grin, clearly enjoying her role in our twisted game and my newfound dominant role. I'm quite certain she was picturing Mandy and I like this, in the classroom:


Stripped and shamed, placed on display before the rest of the students, and about to have our pristine bottoms paddled by Russell. This was the narrative Summer would have been more accustomed to. 


But my, my how the tables have turned...

"Oui," she replied, her hand firmly gripping Russell's upper arm as she led him away. "I'll make sure he's properly prepared, Madame." She left me with a wink as clicked down the hall with Russell in-tow.


As they disappeared into the classroom space, I turned to Mandy, my eyes gleaming with mischievous intent. "Come along, pretty girl," I purred, linking my arm with hers. "Let's get dressed up like slutty schoolgirls and give the 'teacher' a show." Mandy giggled nervously and together, we made our way upstairs to one of the dressing rooms. 


As we stripped down and began to don our chosen attire, I couldn't help but admire Mandy's cute little form. 


The short plaid skirt accentuated her curves perfectly, while the crisp white blouse struggled to contain her beautiful tits. 


I struck a pose once my outfit was on, which caused Mandy to tell me that she was soaking through her panties. But the real test will be Russell's reaction. I want to see the desperation in his eyes as he watches us, knowing his penis is locked and under my control. 


With a final adjustment to our outfits, we held hands and embraced once more, stealing a quick kiss before the true fireworks were set to pop off. 


Our heels clicked rhythmically against the polished hardwood as we approached the classroom. Pausing outside the door, I turned to Mandy, my expression suddenly serious as I dropped a quick prep-talk.


"Remember, huni," I said softly, "this is about more than just our physical pleasure. It's about asserting our dominance, about showing Russell that he is utterly powerless in the presence of us two women. So let's give him a performance he'll never forget! 


Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Teacher's Pet



Monday, September 16, 2024

The Three D's of a FLR

Continued from: The Struggle is Real

A Sarah Jane story 

As the timer chimed, signaling the end of Russell's cornertime, I set my book aside and rose from the couch. Approaching him slowly, I savoured the sight of his naked form, still trembling slightly from the wooden spoon. 


"Come here, young man," I commanded, my voice low and sultry. Obediently, Russell turned from the corner and dropped to his hands and knees, crawling towards me with a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation in his eyes. As he reached my feet, I extended one leg, presenting my high-heeled shoe for his adoration. "Kiss them," I ordered, watching with satisfaction as he pressed his lips onto the shiny leather. 


"Now, remove them," I instructed, as I sat down. 


Russell slid the shoe from my foot, revealing the delicate silk of my stocking. He repeated the process with my other foot, gently placing my discarded high heels to the side.

"Worship them," I breathed, lifting the pad of my foot and resting it on Russell's nose. He needed no further encouragement. He buried his face in my feet, lavishing them with kisses and gentle licks. I could feel his tongue tracing the contours of my arches, his lips suckling at my toes through the thin fabric of my hosiery. 


As he worked his way up to my ankles, I leaned back against the couch, allowing the sensations to wash over me. The sight of him, so utterly devoted to pleasing my feet, sent waves of pleasure cascading through my pussy. I slipped a hand beneath the hem of my dress, finding the damp heat between my thighs. As Russell continued to worship my feet, I began to stroke my bare clit, my fingers moving in rhythm with his tongue on my toes. 

The contrast between his locked-up, denied state and my own building ecstasy was intoxicating, fueling my arousal right to the edge. With a final shuddering cry and my toes in his mouth, I climaxed, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. 

I gently withdrew my feet from Russell's grasp, returning my high heels to my feet. Looking down at him, still kneeling at my feet, I smiled indulgently. "What a good boy you are," I praised, running my fingers through his hair. "Now, be a dear and go make us dinner please."

The evening had progressed much like any other, with a delicious meal prepared by Russell and the only difference was, he was sitting a little more gingerly than usual. As the night wore on and after some wine, I found myself growing increasingly aroused in my new role. 

Rising from the dining table, I sauntered over to where he sat, my hips swaying seductively with each step. With a single, fluid motion, I shed my pinup dress, revealing the vintage lingerie that clung to my curves like a second skin. "I want to fuck," I bluntly declared. 


Russell's eyes widened with appreciation, his gaze roaming hungrily over my body. Taking his hand in mine, I led him up to our bedroom, smacking the seat of his pants to move him along. Once inside, I guided him to the bed, pushing him dominantly onto the plush comforter. His eyes were alight with hope, no doubt anticipating the moment when I would unlock his penis and allow him the release he so desperately craves. Little did he know, I had other plans in store. 


Turning to our toy drawer, I retrieved the strap-on harness, complete with an ultra-realistic dildo. With aggressive motions, I secured the harness around Russell's hips, positioning the fake cock directly above his own imprisoned penis. The contrast between the two was striking - one lifeless and limp, the other proudly erect, ready to serve my every desire. 


As I finished tightening the straps, I caught the look of emasculation in Russell's eyes, the realization that from now on, all things revolve around my pleasure alone. Smiling wickedly, I pushed him back onto the bed, swiftly securing his wrists to the headboard with bondage cuffs that are always at the ready for such occasions. 

Now that he was completely at my mercy, I turned my attention to the magnificent cock, jutting triumphantly from his hips. Wrapping my little fingers around the shaft, I began to stroke it slowly, marveling at the way it bobbed and flopped about. As I worked the dildo with my hands, I leaned in close to Russell's ear, my breath hot against his skin. 


"Look at you, young man," I murmured, "so helpless, so utterly under my control. Your cock may be locked away, but this one...this one is mine to command! And tonight, it's going to fuck me until I scream." With those words hanging in the air, I climbed up to straddle him, positioning myself over the waiting dildo. As I lowered myself onto it, inch by glorious inch, I watched Russell's face contort with a mixture of envy and humiliation, knowing that he longed to be the one filling me so completely. 

As I began to ride him, my hips gyrating with each thrust, I knew this was exactly where I belonged - me taking pleasure as I saw fit, and him, denied and eagerly obedient. 


Reaching into our toy drawer once more, I retrieved a bright red ball gag, holding it up for him to see. "Open wide, my pet," I purred, watching as he reluctantly parted his lips to accept the silicone sphere. I fastened the straps behind his head before letting my fingers trail down his chest to grip both of his nipples. I bounced a few more times on the dildo before climbing off, ensuring it would be glistening with my slick arousal. 

Slowly, deliberately, I wrapped my lips around the head of the fake cock, swirling my tongue at the tip before taking it deeper into my mouth. As I bobbed my head up and down, I could feel Russell's body tensing beneath me, his wrists straining against the bonds that held him in place. 


When I finally released the dildo from my mouth and cleaned it of my own juices, it was slick with saliva, glistening in the soft light of the bedroom. Climbing on top once more, I lowered myself onto it in reverse, breathing a sigh of pure bliss. I leaned forward so Russell's would have a good view of my asshole, and began to ride him again. I reached for the wand that lay waiting on the nightstand and brought it buzzing to life over my throbbing clit. 


My moans grew louder, more urgent, as I chased my release and bounced upon the impressive dildo. And when my orgasm finally crashed over me, I threw my head back and screamed, my inner walls clenching around the artificial cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed through me. As the last tremors subsided, I collapsed forward, feeling my asshole clench and release with the dildo still buried deep inside me. Then, with a satisfied sigh, I raised myself up off the cock and turned to face Russell's gaze with a smile. "Good boy," I praised, reaching behind his head to release the ball gag. "Maybe next time, if you're very lucky, I'll let you clean up this massive, veiny cock for me." 

With that promise hanging in the air, I flicked the tip of the dildo still attached to his hips, and it bobbed obscenely in the air as I left him tied to the bed. As I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up, he was whimpering like a little girl. 


As I emerged from the bathroom, refreshed and ready for bed, I couldn't help but notice the pitiful whimpers emanating from the bedroom. Stepping back into the room, I glared at Russell, still tied to the bed, his body writhing in frustration. The sight of him, so utterly helpless with the dildo still protruding from his waist, made me feel even more goddess-like. 

Approaching the bed, I looked down at him, my brow furrowed in disapproval of his whining. "What's all this about, young man?" I asked, my voice dripping with condescension. "Are you upset because Mommy didn't let you play with your little pee-pee tonight?" Russell tried to respond, but his cheeks were flushing with embarrassment at being spoken to like a child. 

Sighing dramatically, I untied his restraints. "Sit up," I commanded, watching as he struggled to comply, his arms stiff from being immobilized for so long. Once he was upright I placed a hand on his shoulder, my grip firm yet gentle. "Listen to yourself," I scolded, "whining like a little girl because things didn't go your way. Would you like me to start treating you like a little girl for our bedtime activities, because that can be arranged?" 

Russell hung his head in shame. "No, Ma'am," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Ma'am."

I nodded, satisfied with his contrition. "Good boy," I praised, while attaching a leather collar and connecting leash around his neck. "Now, come here and make it up to me. You know what I want." 


Obediently, Russell shifted to the floor, moving to kneel behind me as I bent over the edge of the bed. I felt his hands gently part my bum cheeks, his warm breath ghosting over my delightful little pucker. And then, with a deliberate flick of his tongue, he placed a lovely French kiss onto my asshole. As his tongue worked away, I closed my eyes, savouring the sensation of his submission.  


With his tongue up my bum, I used my eager fingers to treat myself to yet another orgasm. I am really digging this new role reversal. 

Mistress Andrea once taught me the three D's of a successful female-led-relationship, and "dick" is not one of them, lol. Discipline, Denial, Dominance....check!

Life is good!  

Sarah Jane 💟  


The Season for Giving

Continued from:  National Treasure As the holidays approached, our household bustled with preparations, the air thick with the scent of pine...