The Pianist

Continued from: Alice: Down the Rabbit Hole

[F/f] [female supremacy] [classic rock] [hosiery] [socks]

Summer had been away for a few days, working on a series of transatlantic flights with a completely new crew. While I missed her terribly, I also knew that these trips were an important part of her career, and I supported her wholeheartedly. 

Still, I couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy whenever she mentioned her fellow flight attendants, especially the attractive ones. 

On this particular trip, Summer had apparently hit it off with a lovely Jordanian woman who used to fly for Emirates. According to Summer's text messages, this woman is "like us" - a euphemism we often used to describe someone who might be into kink or BDSM. 

Naturally, this revelation set off alarm bells in my head. While I trusted Summer implicitly, I also knew how charmingly naughty she can be, especially when it comes to seducing unsuspecting women. The thought of her flirting with some exotic beauty halfway across the world made my blood boil with possessiveness and concern. 

I wasted no time in scolding Summer via text, sending a series of motioning palm emojis, combined with a ripe peach emoji. I think I even sent her this one: 

"Behave yourself, Summer Addison!" I warned sternly, hoping that she could feel my tone on her bare backside. 

To her credit, Summer responded promptly and adorably, sending me a seductive selfie from her layover hotel room. She quickly changed the subject by hinting that she had a surprise waiting for me upon her return. 

Intrigued and curious, I pressed her for details, but she remained tight-lipped, insisting that I would have to wait and see. (Ohhh, she's getting a spanking when she gets home!) This only fueled my imagination, as I spent the next few days speculating wildly about what sort of treat Summer might have in store for me. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Summer arrived home, looking radiant and refreshed despite her jet lag. She greeted me with a warm embrace and a lingering kiss, her body melting into mine as if we hadn't seen each other in years. 

Summer smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I brought back a little something for you, love..."

Before I could respond, Summer took my hand and led me toward our music lounge, my heart raced with anticipation. I could sense something special awaited me, but I had no idea what it could be. With a playful giggle, Summer placed her hands over my eyes, guiding me forward with gentle steps. 

"Okay, keep your eyes closed," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "I have a surprise for you but you have to promise not to peek." 

I nodded eagerly, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "I promise," I murmured, my voice barely audible. 

Summer guided me a few more steps before coming to a halt. "Alight, open your eyes!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. 

As I blinked my eyes open, it took a moment for my vision to adjust to the light. But then, as if in a dream, I saw her - Gamazda! Seated at the white grand piano, her fingers poised elegantly over the keys. My jaw dropped open in shock, and my trembling hands flew up to cover my mouth, stifling the gasp that escaped my lips. 

If you remember back, dear readers, this little red sparrow appeared in the blog before. A story called Major Renovations: Vanilla Space. This is what I wrote about her in that post: 

I felt like that internet girl who goes by Gazmada. She's popular on YouTube for playing heavy metal covers on the piano, which she absolutely crushes, all while scantily or very cutely dressed. Heels, pantyhose, socks and knee socks. She'd fit right in with the culture of our Facility. 

What a little biscuit she is, huh?

Have a look at her lighting up some November Rain, and looking like a boss-bitch while doing so: 

We tend to feature, celebrate and genuinely root-for remarkably amazing women on this blog. Alexandra Kunznetsova is one of them. Big fan of hers. And she's in my friggen piano lounge right now! 

I can't even...

She was even more adorable in person, her pinky-blonde hair falling in soft waves around her face, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and warmth. She was dressed in her signature denim skirt with nude pantyhose that hugged her slender legs, paired with adorable white and pink runners that added a playful touch to her ensemble. 

Hosiery and runners! Summer is the only other person I know who does this. Must be a European thing. 

As I stood there, frozen in awe, Summer began to explain how the miraculous encounter had come to be. 

"I met Alexandra on my last flight from Russia," she said, her voice filled with pride and enthusiasm. “We got to talking, and it turned out she's a huge fan of your blog, Andrea." 

I could hardly believe my ears. One of my piano idols, someone whose talent is second to none, knew who I was?! It seemed too good to be true. I can't begin to explain how many times I wished I could play the way she does. 

And a fan...of my blog...How could this be? 

My mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together the puzzle of her interest in kink and BDSM. 

(She's covering Don't Speak by No Doubt in this one: Don't Speak)

It occurred to me that there were clues scattered throughout her public persona, hints of a darker, more femdom side, lurking beneath her polished exterior. 

I thought back to some of her earliest online videos, where she had gained notoriety for her jaw-dropping renditions of hardcore rock classics. 

(She's covering November Rain by Guns n' Roses here: November Rain)

Watching her attack the keys with such ferocity and precision, it was clear that Alexandra possessed a wild, untamed spirit that belied her classical training. It was like she had 15 fingers! There was something undeniably edgy and alternative about her approach to music, a rebellious streak that set her apart. 

(This one is Don't Cry, another from Guns n' Roses: Don't Cry)

Pantyhose AND socks? A noticeable proclivity towards hosiery and high heels in other videos too. Her petite frame and youthful features cut a strikingly alluring figure, one that would be catnip to anyone with a foot fetish. 

She went full schoolgirl in this one, while playing a Pink Floyd classic: Another Brick in the Wall

As I considered all of these factors, a realization began to hit me as to why she might be a fan of my work and what we do here, at the Facility. 

Is that a lace top? Are those stockings? Atta girl! 

(Here, she's right into some Don't Stop Believing by Journey: Don't Stop Believing)

Plaid skirt...pencil skirt actually! Maybe she would fit in around here...? 

While it is certainly tempting to project my own fantasies onto her, imagining her as a willing submissive or a powerful dominatrix, that's not why I made this post, the intention was not to objectify her in that way. 

The truth is, I could listen to her play for hours and I'm a huge fan. I would love to see her climb to one million YouTube subscribers, so go find her and subscribe. The poor thing is hanging at 947,000. 

There's certainly enough dumb shit on YouTube that has over a million subscribers, but this woman, has a real gift and she's sharing it with the world. 

With that, I dismissed the notion of corrupting this little red sparrow. And with the lovely backdrop of Alexandra playing for us, I turned to Summer, a small grin tugging at the edges of my lips. 

"So..." I leaned in close for a whisper, my serious face boring into Summer's eyes. "Tell me about this Jordanian woman."

Mistress Andrea

xo

Continued in: Innovation Lab

Feet Lovers

Continued from: Helping a Friend

[Flight Attendant] [feet] [foot fetish] [hosiery] [high heels] [F/m]

A.I prompt: Can you make me an image of a play on words. A Domino's pizza box that says "feet lovers" instead of meat lovers?

This was about the 30th attempt at this image above, and it's actually kinda cute. I can live with this one. 

This one was a bit concerning, with the knife, and not A.I. generated. This one came from the interwebs. Sorta cute also. 

You know what else is cute? My wife, Summer! 

Now get inside and warm those buns up before I'm forced to help you warm them up!

"Oui, Mummy." 

After a few years and over 300 short stories, I have realized that Summer herself, has never written one. She was interviewed once, by some wiener from the internet but she has not once, authored a story on here. Probably because her English is not 100%, she has a noticeable, one could say thick, French accent. Also very cute! 

Go have a look at her interview: Someone's Gonna Get It

So, dear readers, try to follow along as best you can, with her Frenchness sprinkled into this one. Take it away Summer, after you get off eBay and put your phone down. 

"Oui Mademoiselle." 

I remember zee moment I first realize zee power of my feet, so vividly. I was une jeune fille, fresh out of flight attendant training, et eager to explore zee vast world. One of my first long-haul flights, I found myzelf noticing some of zee male passengers...zey would be starring at my feet. My feet zat were encased in sheer black stockings and perched atop zee high stilettos. 

Zee hours spent walking up and down zee aisle, attending to pazzengers' needs, had left my feet aching and swollen. But as I admired zem, I could see what zaa silly men were seeing, 'ow shapely and elegant zey looked. Zee arch of my foot was perfectly defined, my toes delicately tapered, and zee skin smooth and unblemished. Look and zee for yourzelf:

It was zen zat I decided to celebrate my beautiful pieds, to adorn zem and show zem off to zee world. I began wearing dainty anklets and zee toe rings, painting my nails a deep, seductive red, and slipping into zee finest silk stockings and lace-topped hold-ups. I took all zaa pride in caring for my feet, massaging zem with luxurious French lotions and keeping zem soft and supple. 

After meeting ma cherie, Vanessa, she told me her naughti, naughti little secrets. She is a very bad girl, who needs zee spanks! Somezing we also dabbled in, cherie and I. 

After zees long flights we would kick off our heels in zaa h'otel room and snap pictures of our stocking-clad feets, zee sheer fabric clinging to our sweaty soles and toes. We posted zees images onto the internets, describing zee aches and pains of our travels, telling zee men how much we needed the massages and comforts. 

To my surprise, zee responses were overwhelming. Men from all over zaa world began messaging me, complimenting my feet and begging for more photos. Zees men were captivated by my feet, driven wild with desire by zaa sight of my sweaty stockings and exhausted arches. They offered me money, gifts, anyzing to convince me to send to them my worn nylons or shoes. 

And so, my little side business was born, I started selling my used stockings, pantyhose, and heels to zee highest biddars, carefully packaging zem to preserve my unique scent and zee evidence of my femininity. 

I developed a system with Vanessa's help, verifying the authenticity of my items, taking photos and videos of myzelf wearing zem, sealing zem in airtight bags with my signature and a personal note. 

But zee more I embraced my role as a purveyor of worn delicates (I was zelling my knickers, too) zee more I found myself drawn into zee world of kink and BDSM. Zee men who bought my items often had very specific requests, asking me about my last spankings or if I like to be tied up. I must admit, zier ideas were exciting to me. 

This is a time in her life where she can't explain it in English, but she basically didn't want her severed feet to end up in some dude's freezer. Oh look, a creepy basement!

The bad man on the internet said it was safe down there...go on, Summer. He just wants to take some pictures of your feet." 

Oh fuck! 

Safety, ladies! Safety, safety! I get the whole CNC (consensual non-consent) play, but please take care of yourselves and be smart about power dynamics play. 

Zat is when I met my beloved Mistress Andrea. She led me through zee various rooms of her Facilitee, each equipped with its own array of bondage gear, whips, and other implements of discipline. Here was a place where I could safely indulge my deepest, darkest fantazee, where I could surrender completely to zee pleasures of submission. She was tall and statuesque, with jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a commanding presence zat made my knees weak. A woman who could bend me to her will, with nothink more zan a glance. 

Eventually, our relationship evolved beyond zee confines of zee fetish studio. We moved in together, sharing a grand mansion on zee outskirts of zaa city. Mistress continued to run her business, welcoming clients into our home and guiding zem tru dare own journey of submission and self-discovery. Meanwhile, I balance my duty as her devoted slave with my career as a flight attendant, jetting off to exotic destinations and returning home to kneel at her feet. 

Our love story culminated in dramatic fashion. I'm going to start crying. Our love story culminated in a hotel room in New Orleans, when Mistress hid her face from me, to hide zaa tears in her eyes. 

That storyline can be found here: I have a plane to catch

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you anymore." She zed to me. Right before she told me that she loved me. 

"Say it again..." I replied to her. Hehe, and she did! 

As I embraced my role as Mistress Andrea's devoted wife and submissive, she encouraged all of zaa feet content and grew my side-hustle into a lucrative business zat has made us beyond rich. 

Who would have thought, oui? Somezing zoe zimple as my little toes. 

Love always, 

Summer Addison Holiday 

💋

Continued in: Sports Betting

 

Pretty Please

Continued from: A Punishment Spanking

In the days following Russell's punishment spanking, I was little more micro-managerial as it related to the office. I would make frequent visits and ask the girls what they had been tasked with. 

It seems I walked-in on "break-time", during one of the said tasks. 

"You didn't want to do the honours yourself Russell?" I teased, while looking down at his mid-section. 

He blushed and whispered back to me, "no Ma'am." 

Clearly his bare bum was still in no shape to be visibly exposed to his two subordinates. You're going to be feeling this for a week is what I was going for during his punishment the other day. I think I achieved my goal. 

"Well, lets take a seat for a moment, Russ. Don't you just love that she's forced to watch her own boobs in the mirror, flopping and dangling about?" I said, as we both sat and watched on.

"Bella huni, if she looks away from the mirror again, slap her." I instructed.  

We watched for a little while longer. 

"Just make sure it's not an all day break, ladies," I sternly counselled. 

"Yes Ma'am," they both replied. 

"Russ, the girls are almost home from the airport. Lets go help them with their luggage." I said. 

He whispered out a little, "yes Ma'am" to me. Hoping his Secretaries wouldn't hear. He must have thought they did hear him, because he felt the need to reassert his dominance as we walked out of the office. Silly man!

"Five more minutes ladies." He called out. "Then you can kneel and clean off that cock, Sarah Jane. After that, it's back to your desks, ok?" 

"Yes Sir," they both moaned out loud. 

Russell and I left them to their business. I was excited to see Summer and secretly excited to see Goddess Vanessa as I now call her. I wonder if she has any new tales about cuckolding her sissy husband?!

Russell helped the two of them with their carry-ons and after kissing Summer passionately, I went to greet the supreme Goddess who is my newest girl crush. 

"Hello Goddess Vanessa," I purred to her, as I embraced her into my arms. 

She giggled and blushed. "Ohhh Mistress, you're too much!" 

Meanwhile, I watched Summer do her best "Daddy's little girl" move, slithering herself onto Russell's lap. She must want something. Ha. 

I heard her crying out "pretty pleasssssse" to him in a baby voice, yet I didn't catch what she had actually asked him. She was bouncing up and down on his lap at this point.

With the added weight of Summer on his lap, I noticed Russell wince a little, adjusting his tender buttocks against the hard chair. 

"You better ask Mistress," I heard him say to Summer. 

Instantly, I get a "Mommmieeeee?" From her. 

*Sigh*...

"Yes sweetheart?" 

"Can Russell come shoot some content with us? We need a pilot for a new idea.” She mewed out. 

"Feet only?" I asked her. 

She looked over at Vanessa. 

"Maybe some bum too." Vanessa said. 

I nodded my head in a gesture toward Russ, then looked at Summer while raising an eyebrow and said, "soumis?" 

"Oui Maîtresse." Summer replied. 

Haha! Summer taught me some French. I can talk about Russell right in front of him now 😈!

Preserving the essence of their long flight in hosiery and heels, the girls clicked off down the hall to their special space to grab some film equipment and sealed baggies to eventually package up their tights. 

I took Russell up to my bedroom to brief him on what was about to go down. 

"Russell, I don't image you wish to end up over my knee again, do you?" I spoke firmly. 

"No Ma'am," he replied as he lowered his gaze. 

"The girls want to dress you like a pilot and create some content relating to their feet and high heels. I expect you to do whatever they say, is that understood?" 

"Yes Ma'am," he peeped out. 

"You used to worship my feet for hours back in the day, remember? This should be a breeze for you." I reassured him. 

We got Russell into the pilot outfit while the girls were setting up the video equipment in my room. 

There was a nice fire in the background, making their stilettos glow. This was of course complimented by a silly man on his hands and knees, where he belongs, in the presence of such elegance and beauty. 

Lets hope Sarah Jane doesn't walk in on this, and see her "Daddy" in such a compromised position. 

"He's all yours girls. Don't bother being gentle." I purred to them. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: French Cut

The Secretary

Continued from: Call me "Sir"

Meanwhile, back at MY den of debauchery, everything was seemingly vanilla. Everything except my wife Summer, who was dressed like a little girl, and my new idol, Goddess Vanessa, who came over for brunch before both of them had a flight to catch. 

The stuff that was coming out of her mouth, oh my word! About what she just did with her husband and her bull. I was blushing and covering my mouth. 

Her wild tales became the inspiration for the last few posts I made, as she told Summer and I about her unique relationship in extreme detail. I was calling her "Goddess Vanessa" to her face, I was so impressed. I treated the two of them to Montreal smoked meat, eggs Benny! A truly luxurious dish.   

When I served Vanessa she immediately said, "thank you Mistress Andrea, this looks divine." I responded with a, "you're welcome Goddess Vanessa," after hearing the descriptions of her playdate. I was actually feeling a little subby toward her, which is extremely rare for me these days.  

From the couch in the living room, Russ even cocked his head in our direction, his arm lovingly wrapped around his baby-doll, Sarah Jane. 

"You made him do WHAT?!" He shouted toward Vanessa, referring to something he overheard. "Good lord!" Russell said as he chuckled and tickled Sarah Jane who giggled in his arms.  

Russ and Sarah Jane had become such a cute and blossoming little BDSM couple. They adored each other, that was evident. Today she wore over-the-knee socks of a senior schoolgirl, a role she had spent some time in now, slowly but confidently earning her gold stars of progression. She looked super cute. His palm rested on her bare thigh, the lovely void of exposed flesh between her socks and flirty, plaid skirt. 

She still called Russ, "Daddy", but that was about to change. The next morning she was set to be promoted to the role of his slutty secretary, and she would now be addressing him as, “Sir". 

I think they celebrated with one last night in her "little girl" bedroom. Sarah Jane was a bit torn, she knew "Sir" would be a welcome escape from stuffed animals and pink sheets, but she would ultimately miss her "Daddy", and the comfort that space provided for her. 

I'm sure "Daddy" gave his little one a good “farewell for now.” By morning, her socks, kilts and Mary Janes would be replaced by pencil skirts, stockings and stilettos.  

Meanwhile, it was just Cassandra and I alone in the bar, Summer and Vanessa left for work. You know what pairs perfectly with the richness and luxury of eggs Benny? Champagne! 

After two glasses Cassie was offering me a lap dance and pole dance. I got comfortable on the couch to watch her sexy little frame, gyrate and sensually sway like a cobra. 

She slowly stripped her top off, one arm at a time, followed by her little bra, before spinning her bare back into the pole. 

Gawd she is sexy! As you can probably imagine, things escalated from there. 

The Champs had gone right to my pussy, which tingled like the bubbly I continued to suckle off Cassie's nipples. 

Cassandra begged to go down on me. She knows I like it when she flips to full blown submissive for me, even though her verbiage is not as eloquent and refined as her Mother, Bella. 

"Please Mistress! Please may I taste your hot cunt!" 

Trucker mouth...sheesh! 

When her Mom goes down on me, she asks my permission like she's speaking to Queen Victoria in 1837. 

What an eager little tongue though! Holy Christ did I ever cum. 

In preparation for Sarah Jane's promotion, Cassie and I had spent the past few weeks converting a loft in my home, into a cool office space with a bit of a steampunk feel to it.  

It served as a fantasy space for Boss / employee scenes for my clients who wished to be spanked by their a lady boss. I was letting Russ use the space to further train and condition Sarah Jane. The Secretary stage is one step closer to Sarah's ultimate goal of reaching the Upper Floor. When promoted to that illustrious rank, she would become a sex slave to multiple partners, couples and required to serve at large parties or events.   

Russell and I both agreed that Sarah Jane would benefit from a mentor. Who better to join her in the office space than my beautiful Bella Goth? A woman of incomparable grace and elegance, who happens to be my owned sex slave and has already been promoted to the Upper Floor. 

I can think of no better mentor for Sarah Jane to help her make the transition from a "little one" to a "big girl." 

Of course these two will need a boss, Russell, to keep them in-line and on task. Bella and Sarah Jane will actually be doing work in this space. We have so much online content, client bookings, fetish sales and the fan sites for Summer and Vanessa to manage. 

We'll see if Russell can manage these two with his firm leadership. I just hope he doesn't get too distracted, we actually have deliverables that need to be accomplished here. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: "Forced" Labour