Gamer Mode

Continued from: Tattoos and Tongues

I'm not sure what more to say than simply, I'm not a gamer...and I feel like a sucker. (not that kind!)

(That’s me below, as like a call of duty, gamer version of me)

I am sort-of tech savvy and as you all know, I have been enjoying my creations and "art" over the past two years, on this blog, as I try to illustrate and animate the Sims to do very naughty things with each other. 

In order to do this, I have always just staged or "forced" interactions with the characters in various settings, my character, Summer, Bella and all the rest. After all this time, I just learned the other day that there is a full-blown, BDSM, game mode. 

*Sigh*

For anyone who plays the Sims, this essentially means you can play it as your normally would, but with a BDSM sex slave that you are required to train and condition. I guess I didn't read the fine print years ago, when I started to download mods from this person calling their brand, "Kritical".

I thought I was simply getting dungeon furniture and objects that Kritical made to then use in my own Sims world. Like so: 

Or like so: 

Again, little did I know, was that Kritical not only created the BDSM items to use, but also, an entire mini-game of immersive interactions associated to "owning" a submissive. Like you actually have to work at it to unlock different layers of things you can do with them. 

So...I suppose I had to try it...on Summer first. I literally had to buy Summer in a slave auction that I will explain later, but after some muddling around with this new style of gameplay, I bid on and won my own wife, Summer. Haha. 

I asked the A.I. what it thought about this scene too. Hmm...kinda, I guess. 

Then it started to get a little more focused. It will frequently input like gibberish in the backgrounds of these images. I've seen it on chalkboards in some of the school scenes.  

Okay, okay...now you're getting it. How humiliating for my poor baby! Just objectified and vulnerable, sold off to the highest bidder. 

I stopped trying at this one, which wasn't perfect but close. 

Back to the gameplay. 

At some point the Sim's mood will change to sheepish, almost embarrassed looking and the popup with appear: 

When this happens, my character can't play with her or have sex with her or do much of anything else, until I address this and punish her. What a cute feature! Once I click on her and impose said punishment, she shrugs and stomps her feet and has a little hissy fit and twists her face into a pain-fearing scowl. Also cute. She's acting out!  

Then, my window of options pops open and at this early point in our Kritical relationship, I only had two options available. I think you can expand to more as our D/s progresses. Anyway, I could give her a lifted up spanking or a golden shower it said. *shurg*

I was surprised about this new and adorable animation that was never available to me before. They call it stand & carry & spank. And I love it!

Lifted right off her feet and held under my arm like a rag doll. Her vulnerable legs dangling and head down. What a cute animation for naughty little girl like Summer! 

It reminds me of this one, that I've used before to represent a good belting from "Daddy" in a similar state of vulnerability:

It looks like I'm going to have some new positions and content. New animations to use in the future, now that I discovered this Kritical thing, that was right under my nose all along.

Second option to punish Summer was a golden shower, something she and I have never participated in before. 

I thought a golden shower was to be peed on. This looks like I'm peeing directly into her mouth and the assumption would be that she's consuming my urine?...I guess...

Not really my thing...

Hopefully my golden liquid doesn't do anything to the electric shock collar that she is wearing. Also something I will explain later. 

Summer is too adorable to pee on or in. How could you pee on this? 

Next time I'll write about how this whole auction thing goes down and the shock collar function. It's quite something. 

In the meantime, I'll continue to explore all these new options and animations that are now available to me and how I can use them to bring a better product to all of you. ;) 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The Tears of the Sissies will Water the Meadows of France

 

Tattoos and Tongues

Continued from: Meet Carley

I barley finished up my secret masturbation indulgence, brought on by listening to poor Carley receive a spanking, before there was a tiny little knock at my office door. 

I composed myself quickly, I'm sure my cheeks were a little flushed and my knees were definitely wobbly in my heels. 

"Enter," I called out. 

I was surprised to see Carley's mousey little face, peeking through the door she cracked open. 

"May I come in, Ma'am?" She squeaked out sheepishly, her eyes appearing recently moistened with tears. 

I held out my arms maternally, invitingly. This little fallen angel can't be any older than twenty-five, so I turned on the Mommy charm.  "You ok, sweetheart?"

"Yes Ma'am," she said, as she accepted my embrace and a comforting rub to her upper arms, while I smiled down at her. 

"Robby told me to come apologize to you, Ma'am. And to thank you for the use of your private space for m...my spanking, Ma'am." Swallowing her humility hard, Carley apologized and thanked me. 

Her voice trembled with vulnerability as she continued to speak. "If you need to take me over your knee for putting you out of your way, Ma'am, I understand." She began to lift her dress to reach for the band of her panties.

Awww! What a little cutie! I stopped her. 

"That won't be necessary, little one," I said caringly, as I continued to rub her shoulders. "Having to come here and apologize and thank me for providing a space for you to receive a spanking, I'm sure has served as punishment enough."

Simply being hospitable, I ushered her to sit. Stupid me! She just got a spanking. She did in-fact sit down beside me but she did so very gingerly. 

Her voice was laced with the awe and amazement of a small child at Disneyland. "Mistress, what IS this place?" 

I giggled momentarily, before answering her in as clever of a clandestine way I could manage.

"Have you ever been to a food court in a mall, sweetheart?" I asked her rhetorically. "It's kinda like that. There's a little something for everyone's different tastes." Carley smiled for the first time. 

With that, I took her by the hand and gave her a full tour of the place, from top to bottom. From the scents of leather and metal of the sex dungeon, to the comforting aroma of baby lotion in the nursery, I showed her everything. 

The sparkle in her eyes beamed in amazement like it was Christmas morning. Like she was an Elvis fan and this was her Graceland. 

"I can't believe this world exists, Ma'am." Carley gasped aloud, "It's making my tummy feel funny. Like it does when Robby tells me I'm getting a spanking." 

   

What an adorable little biscuit! I chuckled at her comment. "Speaking of which, where is Robby?

"He was at the bar, Ma'am, with that short-haired woman who kinda looks like me," she answered, sounding a bit irritated. 

"Oh gawd! He's met Cassandra..." My voice trailed off, almost feeling sorry for poor Robby. I'm sure when he settled into the bar he was greeted by a, "who the fuck are you?" 

Carley interjected, in her posh, little accent. "He thinks he's a bit of a Jack the Lad. He probably thinks she fancies him...."

"Cassandra?!" I blurted out. 

"Have you ever tried to call or summon a rattlesnake into your palm?" I sarcastically added. "That's about how much luck he's gonna have with Cassandra."

Our tour ended at the bar, and as I expected, there was Cassandra, glaring at Robby in disapproval, simply because he has a penis and it's not in a chastity cage.

Cassie's disgusted gaze upon Robby quickly flashed toward Carley, as we both power-clicked into the room. Her eyes lit right up when she saw the adorable and edgy little thing. A kindred spirit perhaps? Both adorned with piecing and tattoos.

Cassandra was on her like a hawk, pulling her in for a warm hug and innocently introducing herself as "Cassie the Receptionist", even though she is way more than that now! 

"You're fuckin' gorgeous! May I kiss you on the lips, Carley?" Cassandra blurted out, being obnoxiously vulgar and bold. 

Carley flashed a quick glance towards Robby, who raised an eyebrow and gave a nod of approval. 

Then, as he sipped his old fashioned, I watched a boyish grin tug at the corners of his lips, as he took in the sight of Carley returning the kiss, and dart her pierced tongue into Cassandra's mouth. 

"Is this little doll a client, Mistress?" Cassandra asked the room out loud. 

"No." I replied. 

"Not yet, anyway...."

Think we should have her back...? 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Gamer Mode

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

The Nurse and the Doctor

Continued from: Medical Room?

During the last post I referred to my recent client not wanting to pay for a dual-Domme session and was dealt with by me alone, as his medical fetish nurse. It turns out he must have gotten off his wallet and reconsidered, as he would now like the Doctor AND the Nurse experience, in a follow-up session.  

Yep, we can do that! But if you thought your last session was humiliating, young man...

Now, where is that lab coat of mine?

Slutty nurse Summer, check! 

Summer, however, was still at work. I would have to clear this with her first but I'm sure she'll be game. She landed in the afternoon, following a particularly long stint of a few city stops. 

I knew she would be a bit tired and stressed. This was confirmed when I went to pick her up at the airport and she immediately started calling me "Mommy". A strong indicator of the mindset and role she wants to be in and a hint to me as to what she wants. I wasn't dressed in my vintage "Mommy" attire...hopefully this will do. 

When we finally got home she immediately asked me if she could bathe and change into something from her "pink room". 

Her "pink room" is an actual bedroom designed for age regression play and mdlg play. Most of her adorable Lolita outfits and accessories are in the closet in this room. Again, I knew what she wanted and needed based on the way she was acting and how she was speaking to me. We kissed and she happily scurried away to wash the travel off herself and transform into her persona of ruffles and comfort. 

She went all out today. I could hear her clunky Mary Janes announcing her presence, as she tromped into the kitchen looking like a complete doll.

"Does that feel better, sweetheart?" I cooed to her. 

"It does, Mommy, you have no idea how much I was looking forward to this." Summer replied cheerfully, as I brushed my hands over her layers of ruffled cuteness. 

Still...this wasn't the full "fix" she was after, I knew this...

"Summer Addison," I spoke lovingly but sternly. "Do you need some time over Mommy's knee?" 

She blushed and pouted and tried her best to force tears into her big, bright eyes. 

"Y-Yes pweeaze Momma." She squeaked out with a baby lisp in her voice. 

"Alright, honey. Go get Mommy's hairbrush from the vanity and wait for me in the living room. I'd like your dress off," I firmly instructed. 

Summer dutifully obeyed. She knows how much I like walking into a scene to see everything perfectly in situ. The dreadful ebony hairbrush was resting beside the tissues, her princess dress was off, exposing her frilly pink bloomers and bra, and she had moved the ottoman into place by the large window. 

I gave her about 10 minutes to contemplate in the corner, before I entered the room and called her to my side. 

"Alright, little one. Over Mommy's knee," I cooed. 

After a nice long warm-up her knickers came down for another layer of hand-spanking, before I moved on to the brush. 

The brush definitely got the water-works started, as poor Summer gripped the ottoman while flat on her tummy. In this position, her bum is at it's most fleshy and impact-absorbing. The brush penetrated deeply! 

It reminded me of that old video of Brandi, from the infamous Real Spankings Network and Spanking Teen Brandi. She was being punished by the matriarch and was bare naked, legs spread and gripping the sheets for a bedtime dose of the BATH brush! 

You wanna see some real crying during a production-based, spanking video...go find this one. I can already see the white, ashy splotches on her bum. The poor thing...she probably felt that one for days!

A.I. Brandi?

...hmm, not bad. Cute, remorseful and properly positioned. 

Summer, on the other hand, I did not take to the point of white splotches, and she had nothing to be remorseful for. She just needed her reset button pressed, and the best place to do that is over my caring lap, on it, or both.  

Once the tears had dried and the scene was over, cradled in each other's arms, I asked her if she'd do the nurse session with me. 

We spent the next little while plotting and giggling about what we intend to do to this poor medical-fetish client. 

Summer had some shockingly devious ideas, as did I. That poor, poor man...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: No Scrubs