Betrayed

Continued from: Why choose BDSM?

[F/f] [diapers] [chastity] [spanking] [cornertime] [OTK] [MDLG] [humiliation] [adult baby] [age regression ]

"Oh, Mandy," she cooed, her voice dripping with false sympathy. Mistress moved a straight-backed chair into the middle of the room, before taking a seat and patting her stocking tops. "You look absolutely adorable. Now come here and get over Mommy's knee. It's time for your spanking, little girl." 

My cheeks burned with shame, as I looked down at the attire I was in, a 45 year old woman, forced into such vulnerable clothing and about to be spanked. The outfit was a tactic, using humiliation as a form of adult discipline, a constant reminder of my utter powerlessness in this place. 

As I shuffled forward in my ridiculous Mary Jane heels, tears were already filling my eyes. With shaking hands, I reached beneath the hem of my absurdly short dress and grasped the waistband of my little girl panties. Slowly, deliberately, I slid them down my thighs until they pooled around my knees, leaving my bare bum exposed and vulnerable. 

As I approached Mistress Andrea, seated regally in the sturdy wooden chair, I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze. Instead, I focused on the array of implements laid out and ready for me - hairbrushes, a wooden spoon, a female slipper, and a thick leather belt. Each promised a unique brand of pain and degradation, and I knew from experience that Mistress would not hesitate to use them all!

With a final, shuddering sob, I draped myself across her lap, my feet coming off the floor as she adjusted me. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, the subtle rise and fall of her breath, as she prepared to administer my spanking. 

Without warning, it came, a barrage of sharp, stinging smacks with her palm. Mistress settled into a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks as she peppered my bum and thighs. The spanking was not overly severe but it was quite lengthy. She layered me perfectly, hand, leathers, a female slipper, followed by the dreaded hairbrush and wooden paddle. By the time I was paddled, she had removed my dress fully. The repeated impact of my fleshy cheeks, always seemed to create a numbing sensation, the perfect opportunity for Mistress to layer me deeper with the wooden implements, ensuing I'd be feeling and seeing the effects for days to come. 

She finished up with a hand-spanking to even out my colour and allow for that intimate re-connection. As I lay draped across Mistress Andrea's lap, my ass throbbing and raw from the sound spanking, I felt her hand begin to move in slow, soothing circles. Her touch was gentle, almost maternal, as she stroked the inflamed skin of my bum. When her fingers grazed the swollen lips of my pussy, I couldn't help suppress a moan, my hips instinctively arching towards her hand.  

Shame flooded through me at the realization that, even after such a humiliating ordeal, my traitorous pussy still craved her touch. As if sensing my inner turmoil, Mistress lifted me up to sit on her lap and whispered in my ear, her hot breath tickling my neckline. "It's perfectly natural for a grown woman to need discipline sometimes. There's no shame in admitting that you need to be spanked, to be reminded of your place." 

Her words sent a shockwave right to my pussy, equal parts degrading and comforting. How could she make something so utterly humiliating and painful sound almost...normal. As she continued to stroke my fiery bum, her fingers occasionally dipping between my legs to tease my clit, I felt tears welling up in my eyes once more. But this time, they weren't tears of pain or humiliation - they were tears of relief, of gratitude for the release she had granted me. 

"Go ahead and cry if you need to." Mistress encouraged, her hand never ceasing its hypnotic caressing. "Let it all out, sweetheart. Mommy is here for you, Mandy." And with that, the floodgates opened. Sobs wracked my body as I surrendered to the overwhelming emotions coursing through me - shame, guilt, desire, and a strange, twisted sense of belonging. Through it all, Mistress held me close, her strong arms wrapped around my trembling frame as she rocked me gently back and forth.

The fact that I was wearing a ridiculous little girl outfit, my panties pulled down around my ankles and my ass glowing red from a thorough spanking, only added to the perverse sense of comfort I felt. Eventually my tears subsided, I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers, thanking her for spanking me and desperately seeking her approval. Mistress responded eagerly, her tongue slipping past my parted lips to explore the depths of my mouth. 

As we kissed, her hands began to wander, tracing patterns along my thighs that sent shivers of pleasure through my body. When her fingers finally reached the apex of my thighs, I gasped into her mouth, my hips bucking involuntarily as she entered my swollen folds. To my utter mortification, I realized just how wet I was, my arousal coating Mistress' probing digits as she began to finger me. 

"My, my," she purred, breaking the kiss to regard me in a scolding manner. "Look how wet you got during your embarrassing spanking, young lady!" Her words sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over me, and I felt my cheeks burn with shame. How could I possibly explain the twisted desires that lurked within me, the perverse thrill I derived from being punished and degraded like a naughty little girl? 

I could only whimper in response to her scolding, as she withdrew her hand from between my legs. To my horror, she brought her glistening fingers to my lips, pressing them insistently against my mouth. "Open up, young lady," she commanded, her tone becoming firm and strict. "Taste how wet you get from being punished." I obeyed, my tongue swirling around her invading fingers, lapping up every last drop of my shameful juices. 

Just when I thought I couldn't bear any more humiliation, Mistress abruptly withdrew her hand, only to bring it down sharply against my exposed pussy. I yelped in surprise, my hips jerking forward as she delivered another stinging slap to my sensitive folds. "Bad pussy! Bad pussy's don't get to cum," she scolded, punctuating each word with a swift spank to my crotch. 

Before I could even catch my breath, she stood hauled me to my feet, dragging me across the room by my earlobe to the far corner. "Stand here," she ordered, spinning me around to face the walls. "Keep those panties at your knees. I want your naughty bottom on display." 

A grown woman, humiliated and degraded, forced to endure the indignities of a misbehaving brat. I could feel her eyes boring into me from across the room. She lounged on the spanking chair, casually scrolling through her phone, as if my suffering was nothing more than a mild diversion from her daily routine. Every so often she would glance up, her gaze raking over my red bum with a mixture of amusement and disdain. 

"Remember, Mandy," she called out, her voice dripping with maternal sweetness. "No moving, no talking, or you'll find yourself back over my knee for another spanking." 

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

Should I change into something even more Mommy-ish, maybe like this one, remember this outfit? 

And perhaps in the next installment, we can get Mandy the soccer mom, into a nice comfy diaper, what do you think, everyone? 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Diapered & Denied

 

Why Choose BDSM?

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Thumb Suckers

Continued from: Brutal Tenderness

[M/ff] [diapers] [littles] [DDLG] [bisexual] [69] [crib] [knee socks] [Mary Janes]

A Sarah Jane story

As the afternoon wore on, I watched with delight as Mandy slowly shed her inhibitions, losing herself in the simple pleasure of colouring books and stuffies. 

I leaned in close to her, whispering a naughty idea into her ear. Her eyes widened with a mixture of shock and excitement, but after a moment's hesitation, she nodded eagerly. 

"Daddy," I called out, my voice dripping with faux innocence. "Can you come here for a minute? We want to show you something special." 

Daddy appeared in the doorway, a curious expression on his face. "What is it, princess?" he asked, stepping into the pink bedroom. 

I grabbed Mandy's hand, pulling her to her feet. Together, we struck a pose, showing off our innocent dresses and knee-high socks. "Don't we look pretty, Daddy?" I asked, twirling in place. 

Daddy smiled indulgently. "You both look adorable," he agreed. "But what did you want to show me?" I exchanged a mischievous glance with Mandy before continuing. 

"Well, we thought it would be fun if you filmed us doing something naughty, Daddy, while we're dressed like this," I said, batting my eyelashes at him. 

"Like maybe...we could sixty-nine for you, Daddy, and be permitted to cum, pretty please?"

For a moment, I thought the boldness of my request might land me over his knee, with my panties at my ankles, but then a slow grin spread across his face. 

"Is that what my little girls want?" he asked, his voice taking on a low, seductive tone. "To put on a show for Daddy?" 

Mandy and I nodded eagerly, our hearts racing with anticipation. "Yes, please, Sir," Mandy chimed in, her voice soft and babyish. 

"Alright then," he said, aiming his phone at us, "Go ahead and get started, my little sluts."

With a giggle, Mandy and I crawled up onto the bed and began kissing. 

We lifted our dresses and removed our panties, revealing our bare pussies to the camera while keeping the sugary sweetness of our knee socks and Mary Janes on. 

We both posed for Daddy's video. 

Slowly, teasingly, we got into position on the princess bed, spreading our legs to secure our heads into each other's crotches. We leaned in, our tongues darting out to taste each other's wetness. The sensation was electric, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body as I lapped at Mandy's clit and slid a finger into her bum. 

We moved together in perfect sync, our bodies writhing and grinding against each other as we chased our mutual release. I could feel my orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core with each lash of Mandy's talented tongue. Just as I reached the peak, I felt her body tense beneath me, her own climax crashing over her in waves. 

Daddy loomed over us, his phone still trained on our flushed faces. "Good girls," he praised, his voice thick with arousal.

With gentle hands, he helped us out of our little patent heels, leaving us in nothing but our knee socks, before leading us over to the oversized crib in the corner of the room. 

We crawled into the crib together, curling up against each other as Daddy tucked the soft blankets around us. 

"Now, my little ones," he said softly. I want you to suck your thumbs like good little girls. It will help you relax and drift off to sleep." 

Obediently, Mandy and I brought our thumbs to our mouths, our cheeks hollowing as we began to suck gently. The motion was surprisingly soothing, and I felt myself growing drowsy almost immediately. 

"That's it," Daddy cooed, stroking our hair with tender fingers. "My sweet little angels. You've been such good girls today, and now it's time for a nice, long nap. When you wake, I'll have something else for you to suck on." 

As I little-spooned back into Mandy, feeling her warmth against my neck, I couldn't help but marvel at how freeing this experience had been. In this moment, we weren't adults with responsibilities and worries - we were simply two little girls, safe and loved in the care of Daddy. 

It was a blissful escape from reality, one that I knew would change Mandy's perspective on BDSM forever, the knowledge that it's not always dungeons and chains. With a contended sigh, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me, sucking on my thumb, secure in the knowledge that everything was right in my world. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Ugly Cried