Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

Continued from: Country Roads, Take me Home

From the direct Tara Gregory storyline, this one is continued from: Tara Gregory: Revelations

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

With my heart hammering wildly in my chest, I followed Mommy to our designated corner in the living room, my naked body swaying with each cautious step. My thighs were sticky with arousal, the wetness betraying my feelings about the whole situation. Daddy had deemed that we both needed to be punished tonight and reminded of our place in this household. 

The cool air of the room prickled my skin, making me hyperaware of every movement and sensation as we assumed our positions. My hands slowly made their way up to rest on top of my head, elbows pointed outwards like obedient wings. I could hear Mommy's quiet sniffles as she fought back tears, her body quivering with the same mixture of humiliation and arousal that I felt coursing through me. 

In our reflective state, I cast a furtive glance in Mommy's direction. We locked eyes briefly before she quickly pressed her nose back to the wall, her face painted with the same shame that I'm sure was etched upon my own. Our bright red bottoms, adorned with the jeweled and silver glint of our anal plugs, were a stark contrast against the vibrant crimson of our skin. 

Each minute seemed to stretch into an eternity as we stood there, waiting for Daddy to release us. Every now and then, I would shift my weight from one foot to the other, earning myself a sharp squeak from the wooden floorboards beneath my bare soles.

As I stood there, staring blankly ahead, my thoughts drifted back to the countless nights I had spent dreaming of Daddy's touch. 

How many times had I laid awake in bed in my most darling lingerie possible, hoping that he would sneak into my room and claim me, as he had done so many evenings before. The humiliation of my cornertime was palpable, but so too was the thrill of submission that consumed me like a drug. 

As the clock in the distance struck the final chime, making the end of our hour-long sentence, my body sagged with relief. I could feel the ache in my legs and the slight pinch of the plug within me, a constant reminder of my submission to Daddy's rule. 

Moments later, I heard the heavy tread of Daddy's footsteps approaching. He paused when he reached us, no doubt admiring our shameful exposure and shimmer from our anal plugs, casting a refraction of colour onto the floor beneath us.

In a bold and very telling statement by Daddy, he sent Mom to her room. She was grounded for the rest of the evening, under threat of further punishment if she so much as made a peep. She scurried from the room sobbing, her head hung low in shame and embarrassment, clearing realizing that Daddy wanted me, instead of her!

I was directed to the cellar, to the make-shift sex dungeon, where I was informed an outfit would be waiting for me. My heart pounded in my chest as I descended the stairs into the dimly lit cellar. The scent of leather and candle wax filled my nostrils as I entered the space, a heady combination that heightened my arousal. 

As I reached the spanking bench I saw it - the outfit Daddy had laid out for me, so tantalizing and sinful, yet oh so enticing. The sight of the sleek black leather brought a fresh wave of wetness to my already soaked pussy. This was new! These were big, grown-up girl clothes, nothing like the pastel array of ruffles and cuteness I'm typically required to wear. 

Whatever did he have in store for me? 

I dressed quickly and buckled the ankle straps of the ridiculously high heels, before kneeling to wait for him, in a position of complete submission. My anus involuntarily winked and clenched my plug, as I heard Daddy approach. 

He took my hand and led me over to the bondage stocks that face the large mirror affixed to the wall. With gentle yet firms hands, Daddy guided my neck and wrists into the rigid stocks before securing me completely helpless. Then came the smooth rubber of the gag, resting deep behind my teeth and buckled around my head, effectively silencing any protests or pleas that might escape me. 

Daddy waited just long enough for the drool to begin bubbling from my gag, while forced to stare at my own reflection in the mirror. This was an expert at work. Harnessing my most vulnerable humiliations in order to drive my pussy crazy. 

His rough hands trailed over my smooth skin, eventually palming and groping my dangling tits. I bucked my hips, searching for any sort of friction to ease the ache in my core. But Daddy didn't allow it. Instead, he slid the anal plug from my bottom and replaced it with his thick fingers, preparing me for what was to come. 

Each digit Daddy added to my little bum stretched me further, forcing me to accommodate the size. I whimpered and moaned around the gag, my muscles squeezing Daddy's fingers as I tried to adjust. He didn't rush. Daddy took his time, ensuring I was thoroughly prepared before moving on. Once satisfied, I watched him undress, revealing his beautiful hard cock, ready and eager to claim my virgin asshole.

I watched in the mirror as Daddy coated his length in lubricant, my eyes widening in both fear and anticipation. He moved behind me, aligning himself at my gaping bottom hole, and I felt a momentary surge of panic as I remembered how big Daddy is compared to the plug. 

The pain was sharp and intense, but it melded quickly into pleasure, a deep, dirty satisfaction that seemed to resonate through every fiber of my being. I couldn't believe it. Daddy was fucking me in the ass! 

I grunted loudly into the gag, as Daddy slammed into me again and again, the sounds echoing off the walls in the basement. 

My toes curled in my pretty heels. Every thrust seemed to hit a new spot deep within me, a place I never knew existed until that very moment. The fullness in my asshole combined with the throbbing of my clit, was creating a perfect storm of sensations, driving me closer and closer to the edge. 

It was in that moment, bound and gagged with my ass impaled on his dick, that I truly understood my place in this new world. I was Daddy's little girl, his fucktoy...ready and willing to submit to whatever he desired. And I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Cornertime Interview

 

Country Roads, Take me Home

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Revelations

It would seem that naughty little tart, Tara Gregory, has been completely stealing my thunder with her step-Daddy stories and using A.I. to eclipse my original works. 

Well, let me get my eclipse glasses on here, sweetheart. Two can play at this game! 

*****

The phone on my desk buzzes, interrupting my morning yoga. I take a deep exhale before answering, my voice cool and collected, ready to address whatever request the day brings.

"Good morning, this is Mistress Andrea speaking." On the line, I hear the familiar voice of Cassandra, my ever-efficient receptionist. "Nancy called, Ma'am. She has requested an appointment for the woodshed, the usual story with her, right, a good whuppin from "Daddy"...shall I confirm?"

With a satisfied smile, I nod, already envisioning the scene. "Yes, Cassie, please schedule her in for tomorrow afternoon. And remind her to bring the necessary outfit. 

As I hang up the phone, I rise from my pose and walk over to the window, gazing down at the ominous woodshed in the back garden. The sunlight filters through the trees, casting dappled patterns across the mossy ground. Tomorrow, my beloved client, Nancy, will be marched out to the shed in shame, dressed in her demure, county-style attire. A simple gingham dress and socks with sandals, to truly tap into her age regression desires. As usual, I'll be playing the role of her farm-hardened "Daddy". 

The next day, the appointment hour arrives. Dressed in her usual Sims outfit, Nancy strides sheepishly towards the steps of my home. 

I hadn't changed into my role yet. I usually do a more therapeutic and professional consultation with her before we begin, to establish her needs and the reasons she is harbouring for wanting a trip to the strict and unforgiving woodshed. 

It had been a few months since I'd seen Nancy, so after greeting her warmly, we had some tea together and I took a little extra time to make her feel at ease, despite her inevitable fate.

When it was time, I pointed to the corner of the room. Nancy's face was stricken with embarrassment and was about to lift her skirt and lower her panties but I stopped her. Nancy is on the wrong side of 40, she has a successful career and adult children. Although naked cornertime and bare-bottomed cornertime has its time and place, sometimes it can be equally humiliating for an adult woman, to stand and face the walls fully dressed, in her adult attire.

I loosely kept an eye on her for the next 25 minutes, while I changed and got into character. Rather than "marching her" out to the shed as I usually do, this time I kindly asked her to change, do her hair properly and meet "Daddy" outside. 

This should be deliciously frightening for her, when she sees me waiting like this. And yes, I am wearing that belt for a reason! 

Pretty soon, I hear the sound of her little patent dress-sandals, crushing the pebble walk-way. Nancy walks nervously toward the woodshed, her sundress fluttering in the soft breeze, a vision of innocence and submission. 

I can't help but admire her determination to explore this side of herself. As she approaches, she lowers her eyes in respect, hands clasped tightly in front of her. 

"I'm here for my punishment, Daddy." She sobs out, as tears pool into her eyes. 

"Nancy," I greet her sternly, taking her trembling hands in mine. "Please remove your dress right here, and place it on the straw bale, then in you go." 

Her palms instinctively clutched her bottom cheeks, clad in little cotton panties adorned with tiny pink flowers, the style a little girl would wear.

Stepping into the dimply lit woodshed, I took a moment to appreciate the ambiance. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and aged timber, lending an organic quality to the space. Cobwebs lace the corners of the ceiling, and shafts of golden light pierce the darkness through the gaps in the weathered planks. My heeled boots echo on the uneven floorboards as I lead Nancy inside. 

As I close the door behind us, the soft thud resonates in the silence, amplifying Nancy's apprehension. She looks around at the various implements hanging on the walls - straps, paddles, canes and whips - each with its unique purpose and effect. My gaze sweeps over her petite frame, noting how her braided pigtails contrast sharply with the harsh reality of her impending punishment. Her hands are clenched tightly, knuckles white, as she tried to suppress her anxiety. 

Her breath comes in short gasps as I guide her towards the sturdy oak pillory positioned in the centre of the shed. She hesitates for a fraction of a second, but then lowers her neck and wrists into the crescents, bending over and presenting her pristine bottom for correction. 

I close and secure the top portion of the pillory, applying a brass padlock to the hinged clasp. I move behind her, eyeing her exposed bottom appreciatively. Her round cheeks are milky white and unblemished, save for the goosebumps that have risen in anticipation. I run a hand along the arched expanse of her back, feeling her muscles tense beneath my touch. "You know why you're here, don't you, young lady?" My warm breath and frim touch sends shivers down her spine. 

Nodding and weeping, Nancy confirms her awareness of the awaiting punishment. I pat her gently, reassuringly. "Good girl. You know this is for your own good, honey." 

Reaching for my heavy leather belt, I jingle the buckle free and slide it slowly through the loops of my jeans, the sound seemingly amplified in the quiet woodshed. I double it over, testing its weight in my hand before resting it against her vulnerable backside, allowing her to feel its presence. 

With one final look at my target, I raise the belt high above my shoulder. Time seems to slow as it arcs through the air, landing with a resounding crack against the seat of her panties. Nancy's entire body jolts, a strangled cry escaping her lips - the symphony of discipline and surrender. I watch intently as the first welt rises, a stark line marring her perfect complexion, partially obstructed by the cotton veil of her panties which were offering modesty but little protection. 

I instructed Nancy to count each stroke of the belt aloud, teaching her the value of humility and obedience. With every impact, her cries grow louder, her apologies more fervent. 

Twenty lashes with her panties up and twenty lashes with her panties down. It was a thorough and exhaustive strapping for her. Her bottom is a sight to behold, a beautiful canvass of welts, red stripes and some bruising. 

Like an artist adding the final touches, I used my hand to try and blend out her colour and spread the welting more evenly. 

Once Nancy was released from the pillory, I took her outside the shed as-IS! I took her by the bicep as she used her free arm to wipe her tears and snot, before I led her silently down the pebble path and into the main house. 

I lead her to the designated corner of my living room - nose pressed to the wall and hands on her head. Her reddened bottom points toward the centre of the room, a visual testament to her submission and vulnerability. 

"One hour, young lady!" I declare sternly, listening to her whimper in response to my harsh sentence. 

I sat down and played on my phone after setting her timer, keeping a close watch on this adult woman in my living room corner. She remained motionless, save for the occasional hitching of her chest when she resumed her sobbing. I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at her absolute submission, knowing that I am providing her with the escape that she needs. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

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 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Revelations

 

Tara Gregory: Brazen

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Long live the Queen

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

In the days that followed, I found myself growing bolder in expressing my affection towards Daddy. I'd steal quick pecks on his lips whenever I passed him in the hallway, sometimes lingering longer than I probably should have. Whenever we sat together in the living room watching TV or just relaxing, I'd curl up onto his lap, my bare thighs brushing against his clothed ones. I loved feeling the warmth enveloping me, his musky scent filling my nostrils as I nuzzled into his neck. 

Mommy watched all this unfold with a mixture of disgust and jealousy. At first, she tried to ignore the blossoming intimacy, focusing on her domestic duties or preparing dinners. But as the weeks passed, I noticed her glancing up more often, a spark of something unreadable in her gaze. One evening, as I sat perched on Daddy's lap, dressed in the most adorable knee socks, heels and a baby pink dress, Mommy cleared her throat awkwardly. Her eyes kept flickering from our entwined hands to my pink panties peeking under the hemline of my dress. 

My mom's discomfort was evident, but I knew better than to let it deter me. The thought of her knowing she couldn't interfere without facing a serious spanking from Daddy, made my insides tingle with excitement. I leaned further into Daddy's chest, pressing my round breasts against his solid form, feeling the heat from his body seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. 

I decided to test the waters even further. While lounging in front of the fireplace, I ever-so-slowly slid off my precious pink Mary Janes, revealing my delicate feet sheathed in those cute little ruffled socks. I could feel Daddy's eyes on me, tracking every movement, as I casually dangled my feet toward his thighs. 

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, I allowed my socked foot to brush against the bulge forming in his trousers. I feigned innocence, but the mischievous grin playing on my lips betrayed me. Gently, I began to rub circles around Daddy's cock with my little toes, savouring the way his breath hitched at my teasing touch. My other foot soon joined in, caressing and exploring his manhood through the rough material of his pants, while I kept up a steady stream of small talk with Mommy, pretending not to notice her growing jealousy.

Seizing the moment, I watched Mommy retreat from the room and up the grand staircase, her high heels clicking angrily on the marble floor as she disappeared from sight. 

I turned my full attention back to Daddy, and with a devious smile, I undid his pants and produced his raging erection. 

There it was - standing tall and proud, begging for my continued attention. My heart raced as I placed my heels on his thighs, my toes eagerly reaching for his velvety-hard cock. I wrapped them around his shaft, relishing the feeling of him sliding between my soft, warm socks. 

With deliberate strokes, I teased and pleasured him, alternating between slow and fast movements, listening intently to his gasps and groans for guidance. The warmth of the fire danced across the room as I worked my magic, our secret little world in this big house shrinking to just the two of us and the salacious sounds of his pleasure. 

I decided to take things to another level. I slipped off my thin, nylon ruffle socks, baring my warm, creamy feet for the first time during this intimate moment. Goosebumps pricked at my calves as I placed my bare soles on either side of Daddy's penis.

My toes curled around his base, feeling the veins pulse beneath my touch. I slowly dragged my soles upwards, the friction against his smooth erection caused him to groan. Reaching the tip, I lightly flicked my big toe over his sensitive head, spreading the droplets of precum that had formed. Then, with a devilish gleam in my eye, I began to slide my feet up and down his length, relishing in the feel of his hardness gliding between my youthful, buttery arches. 

Daddy's eyes were rolling back in his head which only fueled my desire to please him. The sensation of his manhood against my little soles was unlike anything I'd ever experienced, I felt in control, and I couldn't get enough of it. 

It didn't take long before I could see the signs of his impending release. Daddy's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with each exhale as he fought to maintain his composure. I increased the tempo of my tender soles, sliding my feet up and down his cock with purposeful abandon. 

I felt his entire body tense, his muscles coiling like springs ready to snap, and then...oopsie! Waves of hot cum shot out, painting my soles and toes in a messy white canvass. I moaned at the sight, feeling so proud to have driven him over the edge like that. 

With a satisfied smirk on my face, I stood up from the plush sofa, revealing in the masterpiece I'd created with my dainty feet. A delicious mess of cum adorned my soles and toes, evidence of Daddy's undeniable pleasure. 

I glanced over my shoulder at him, seeing him still recovering from his climax. I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Well, Daddy," I purred, "it looks like somebody made quite the mess." I wiggled my feet tauntingly, creating a mesmerizing dance of semen between my toes. 

"Who's gonna clean this up?" I asked, my voice dripping with dominance and amusement. 

Taking a deep breath, I felt my own power surging through me as I fully embraced the moment. I snapped my fingers, pointing down at my cum-covered feet with confident authority I didn't know I possessed. "Clean," I demanded, my voice strong and commanding, yet still laced with affection. My heart raced, unsure of how Daddy would react to my sudden shift in dominance. 

My stomach fluttered as I waited for his response. Would he accept my newfound dominance? Or would I end up over his knee, with his heavy belt putting me back in my place? But when he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with a mix of surprise and raw hunger. Slowly rising from the sofa, he dropped to his hands and knees before me, his tongue lashing out to taste the salty evidence of his release. 

A rush of adrenaline coursed through me as I watched him willingly submit, and I felt my own desires ignite further. I placed one hand on my hip and extended a foot, giving Daddy better access to my toes while emphasizing my control over him. I gasped as he began to suck and lick, his mouth working diligently to clean every last drop from my feet. 

After he had thoroughly cleaned my feet, I couldn't help but let a giggle escape my lips. "Good boy," I praised, my voice filled with both tenderness and newfound power. Collecting my discarded socks and heels from the floor, I smiled down at Daddy, still on his knees before me. I blew him a quick, flirty kiss before turning on my heel and skipping away toward the staircase, the sound of my giggles echoing throughout the quiet house. Clutching my ruffled socks and shoes to my chest, I ascended the steps, feeling lighter than I had in months. Our roles had shifted, and I was finally finding my place within this strange, twisted dynamic that seemed to rule our household. 

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar