Little Spoon

Continued from: Tucked in by "Mommy"

A Sarah Jane story

After finishing up the text convo with Mistress, I gave Russell about an hour, while I read some Miss Julie content, before heading upstairs to alleviate the pressure in his poor bum. An hour plugged, without a re-lubrication, is more than enough time to provide suitable humiliation, frustration and to train his little bottom hole for future use. 

He was permitted to attend the bathroom in private and remove the penis-plug, returning to me so I could unlock the baby pink, leather cuff set from his wrists and ankles. When he reached for his satin pink nightie, to pull it off over his head I stopped him dead in his tracks. "Not so fast, young lady," I snapped. "These are the jammies you will be sleeping in tonight." 

His bottom lip began to pout in protest, as he mewled out a desperate, "but, Mommy...please!" 

With a quick motion of my hand, I accessed the dreaded ebony hairbrush that laid in wait on my dresser, specifically poised and at the ready for moments such as these. I ran my palm across it's smooth, unforgiving backside, tapping it firmly against my open hand. 

"So you were saying...you'd be happy to sleep in your pretty pink jammies, young lady?" I asked, my voice dripping in unspoken threat. He lowered his eyes, sensing impending danger and with a defeated sigh of submission, "yes, Mommy," escaped his lips. 

I set the hairbrush back in its place, and we both crawled into bed, maneuvering myself to ensure that I would be the big spoon tonight. 

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

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom as I stirred from my slumber. My arm was draped possessively around Russell's waist, holding him close to me as I spooned him from behind. I reveled in the feeling of his soft babydoll and panties, the delicate fabric doing little to conceal the firmness of his chastity cage beneath. 

With a contented sigh, I began to explore his body with my hands, tracing lazy patterns across his chest and stomach. Russell squirmed in my grasp, a soft moan escaping his lips as I found his sensitive nipples through the thin satin of his nightie. I pinched and rolled them between my fingers, delighting in the way his body responded to my ownership, his breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. 

My other hand drifted lower, cupping the bulge of his caged cock through the satin thong. "Good morning, my little one," I whispered, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I spoke. "Did you sleep well, all safe and secure in Mommy's arms?" 

"We have quite the day ahead of us. Mistress Andrea has invited us over for a visit." I felt Russell tense slightly in my arms, no doubt processing the implications of being in Andrea's presence for the first time, as MY submissive plaything. 

"But first, let's get you out of these adorable jam-jams, Mommy wants to start her day properly." With a final lingering caress, I released my hold on Russell, allowing him to sit up and begin the process of removing his feminine attire. The sight of his chastity cage, snugly locked around his cock, never failed to send a thrill of ownership through me.

"Go start the shower, young man," I instructed, my voice laced with authority. "I want you waiting for me in there, on your knees." 

As Russell scurried off to obey my command, I reached for the nightstand drawer, my fingers closing around the familiar shape of the strap-on dildo. For a moment, I hesitated, considering the possibility of claiming him fully, right there in the steamy confines of our shower. The thought of watching him surrender to me completely, of feeling his body yield to my thrusts, was almost too tempting to resist. 

Yet, even as desire coursed through my veins, I knew that such a monumental step deserved more consideration. Reluctantly, I placed the harness back in the drawer, deciding instead, to seek counsel from Mistress Andrea. Our upcoming visit presented the perfect opportunity to discuss this significant milestone in our dynamic. He doesn't even realize how close he came to being pegged this morning.

*Sigh...

Entering the bathroom, I was greeted by the sight of Russell kneeling in the shower, the hot water cascading over his submissive form. Steam billowed around him, creating an ethereal atmosphere that only served to heighten my arousal. I stepped into the shower, positioning myself directly in front of him, my legs spread in silent command. 

I tangled my fingers into his wet hair, gripping tightly as I guided his mouth to my waiting pussy. "Lick my pussy, young man," I ordered, my voice cutting through the sound of the falling water. "Worship my cunt with that talented tongue of yours. Don't stop until I'm cumming onto your lips." 

Each flick and swirl sent waves of pleasure right to my toes, building steadily towards an inevitable climax. I held his head firmly in place, using him for my own gratification. As the last ripples of my orgasm subsided, I gently guided Russell to his feet, as my hands reached for the loofah, lathering it thoroughly before turning my attention to his cock cage. 

I took great pleasure in meticulously cleaning every inch of his locked-up penis, ensuring that the cage itself was cleaned as well. I couldn't help but smirk as I felt Russell's brief attempt at arousal, his cock straining futilely against the confines of the chastity cage. 

Emerging from the steamy shower, I allowed Russell the privilege of drying my naked body, his touch gentle and careful as he patted my skin with the soft towel. 

As he completed his task, I sauntered over to the bed, selecting a pair of pristine white stockings from my drawer. With deliberate slowness, I rolled them up my legs, relishing the silky caress against my skin. I reclined on the bed and spread my legs like a huge slut, revealing my glistening pussy. 

I crooked a finger at Russell, beckoning him closer. "Come, young man," I purred the sensual command. "Your Mistress requires another orgasm before we depart."

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Bi-polar BDSM

 

Now you may call me, Ma'am

Continued from: Sign Here, Initial There

A Sarah Jane story 

As I continued to sit, perched atop Russell's face, his moans of being teased and tormented, spurring me on, I frantically typed away at our FLR contract. 

My entire journey as a submissive, every experience with Russell and every session and scene at Mistress Andrea's Facility, had culminated into this very moment, as I stitched together an intricate contact of my terms. 

Chastity 

During the entirety of his contract, the submissive shall remain in a state of enforced chastity, achieved through the use of a secure locking device affixed to his penis. 

This device shall prevent any form of erection, masturbation, or sexual release without the express permission and involvement of the Mistress. 

The Mistress shall retain sole possession of both keys to the chastity device, and shall only remove said device for supervised cleanings or for her own pleasure and amusement. 

The submissive shall surrender all rights to sexual gratification via his penis, understanding that his orgasms are now the property of the Mistress, to be dispensed or withheld at her discretion. 

Any attempt to circumvent or tamper with the chastity device shall result in severe punishment, as determined by the Mistress   

The submissive accepts that his sexual frustration is a necessary and desired component of his submission, and shall strive to channel this energy into more productive avenues of service to the Mistress. 

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Once Russell has agreed to all the terms, signed and initialed immediately after my initials and signature, he will be getting introduced to the Black Mamba, resin crafted, internally locking, chastity cage. It looks like this one: 

Domestic Discipline 

To maintain order and reinforce the hierarchy within our relationship, the Mistress reserves the right to administer corporal punishment in response to any transgressions committed by the submissive. 

Minor infractions, including but not limited to violations of established rules, breaches of etiquette, failure to manage household expenses properly, or general misbehaviour, shall be addressed through the application of a firm spanking applied to the submissive's bare buttocks.

The severity and duration of these spankings shall be determined solely by the Mistress, based on the nature of the offense and her assessment of the submissive's contrition. 

The submissive is expected to accept these punishments with grace and humility, recognizing them as opportunities for growth and correction. 

Failure to comply with or excessive resistance to these disciplinary measures may result in escalated consequences, at the Mistress' discretion.

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Maintenance Spankings

To ensure the submissive's continued obedience and to reinforce the dynamic of our relationship, regular maintenance spankings shall be administered every Sunday, without exception. 

These sessions serve multiple purposes: firstly, they provide a consistent reminder of the submissive's place within our dynamic, reinforcing his role as the one who receives discipline and guideance. 

Secondly, they offer an opportunity for the Mistress to assess the physical and emotional state, allowing for any necessary adjustments to be made to his training regimen. 

Lastly, these maintenance spankings serve as a form of stress relief for both parties, providing a controlled outlet for any pent-up tensions or frustrations that may have accumulated throughout the week. 

The submissive is expected to present himself promptly, dressed as the Mistress has outlined and prepared to receive whatever level of discipline the Mistress deems appropriate. 

Failure to attend or participate fully in these maintenance spankings shall be considered a serious breach of contract and may result in additional, more severe consequences. 

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Bedtime Spankings

In addition to our weekly maintenance spankings, the Mistress shall also administer bedtime spankings as needed, assuming a more nurturing role during these intimate moments. 

Unlike a maintenance or punishment spankings, these spankings are designed to soothe and relax the submissive, preparing him for a restful night's sleep. 

The submissive shall present himself to the Mistress, ready for bed and dressed in dedicated sleepwear selected by the Mistress. 

When prompted, the submissive will bare his bottom and position himself over the lap of the Mistress.

These bedtime spankings may last anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on how long it takes for the submissive to fully embrace his vulnerability. These bedtime rituals serve to strengthen the bond between us, reminding the submissive that even in his most vulnerable moments, he is cherished and protected.   

Initial:_____________

Initial:_____________

Date:__________

Other categories followed. We did take a small break at one point, or at least I did, and removed my bum from his face. 

The contract spoke of special greetings, morning and evening rituals, specialty clothing and outfits, general rules about reporting, location tracking and check-ins. There was even a section about how he will present himself and behave at Mistress Andrea's Facility, should we end up there. 

Russell was eventually released from my makeshift queening stool. He was permitted to sit and read through all of the sections, initialing his consent at the end of each one. 

Upon the final page, his hand trembled slightly as he applied his full signature to seal his own fate. My signature followed, immediately below. I set the contract aside and retrieved his chastity cage from a delicate, satin pouch. I fit the cage around his flaccid cock, securing the lock with the only set of keys. 

"There," I cooed. 

"Now you may call me, Ma'am." 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: A Minor Annoyance

Sign Here, Initial There

Continued from: What do you say?

A Sarah Jane story 

The morning light filters gently through the curtains as we stir awake, our bodies still tangled in the aftermath of last night's explorations. I feel Russell shift beside me, his lips already forming the words "Good morning, Ma'am." But I silence him with a single finger pressed to his lips, my eyes locking with his. "No, not yet," I murmur softly, a small smile playing at the corners of my mouth. His eagerness to address me by a formal title is endearing, a clear indication that we're on the right track. But there is still work to be done, boundaries to establish, and roles to solidify. 

 Gently pulling away from his embrace, I sit up, stretching cutely before turning to face him once more. "Go make me a coffee, please," I instruct, my voice firm yet affectionate. "And bring it to the upstairs office. You'll wait for me there, understood?" He nods, his eyes wide and attentive, hanging on my every word. "Oh, and one more thing," I add, my gaze trailing appreciatively over his naked form. "You'll remain in your underpants only while you wait. I want easy access to what is mine." 

A faint blush colours his cheeks at my words, but he doesn't hesitate, rising from the bed and padding off to fulfill my request. 

I rise from the bed, taking a moment to select a suitable outfit for this occasion. Something powerful, yet feminine; authoritative, yet alluring.  

As I stand before the mirror, surveying my reflection, I can't help but feel a surge of power coursing through me. The lace panties leave little to the imagination, the delicate, sheer fabric clinging to my curves like a second skin. The corset cinches my waist, emphasizing my hourglass figure, while the intricate lacing at the back hints at the restraint and control that is about to define our dynamic. 

And the heels, those glorious sky-high heels, elevate me both literally and figuratively, adding inches to my height and cementing my status as the dominant force in this relationship. 

I retrieve the ottoman from the end of my bed and pull it across the hall into the office. There, I position it carefully, creating an impromptu queening stool. I go back to my room to collect my laptop, as I hear the soft pad of Russell's bare feet approaching, followed by the rustle of fabric as he settles himself in the chair I indicated, to await my arrival. 

A slow smile spreads across my face as I picture him there, his nearly naked form a testament to his submission, his eagerness to please me in every way. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and strode towards the office door. Each click of my heels against the hardwood floor is a declaration of intent, a warning of the power that approaches. 

I allow him a moment to appreciate the view, to let the reality of his position sink in, before crossing to the desk and setting down my laptop with a deliberate thud. Turning to face him fully, I meet his eyes, my own burning with intensity of my desire, my need to claim him utterly and completely. 

"Well, young man," I purr, my voice a sultry invitation and a stern command all at once. "Shall we begin?" 

With a flick of my wrist, I gesture for Russell to approach the ottoman, my makeshift throne. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in the leather restraints dangling from my fingertips, but he doesn't hesitate, holding out his wrists to me. 

Once secured to the ottoman, I give the restraints a final tug, ensuring there's no give, no escape from the fate I have planned for him. With a graceful movement, I settle myself onto the ottoman, lowering my barely-clad bum onto his upturned face. 

The deliberately selected panties were ultra-sheer, he is so close, but teased by the delicate shrouding of fabric. I can feel the brush of his nose against my bottom-hole, a delicious tease that sends shivers of pleasure rippling through my core.

To a fly on the wall, the situation would appear like so: 

Leaning forward, I reach for my coffee, brining the mug to my lips and inhaling deeply, savouring the rich aroma before taking a sip. 

Setting the mug aside, I turn my attention to my laptop, my fingers flying over the keys as I begin to type. 

FEMALE-LED-RELATIONSHIP

(FLR) 

CONTRACT

1. The Dominant party, Sarah Jane, henceforth referred to as, "the Mistress."

2. The submissive party, Russell, henceforth referred to as "the submissive." 

3. The contract shall span a minimum duration of six months, during which time both parties shall fully commit to their respective roles

4. The details agreed upon in this contract cannot be changed, removed or edited until the maturity date of the contact, six months from the date in which it was signed by both parties.

5. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the submissive shall only ever address the Mistress as "Mistress", "Ma'am" or "Mommy", as per her discretion.

6. Once signed and all sections have been initialed by both parties, the contract will be in effect immediately. 

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

I really need to get me one of these for the office. This is going to be a very long document!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Now you may call me, Ma'am

Tara Gregory: Interview Continued

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Tara Gregory: Revelations

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Wine Cellar

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

**Everyone depicted in this story and A.I. generated are adults, over the age of 18** 

Over the past few weeks, I'd been practically begging for Daddy's attention whenever were alone together. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and I couldn't get enough of the exquisite pain and pleasure that only he could provide. My days were filled with dreams of the cellar, my nights with feverish fantasies of being bound and whipped at his mercy. 

I remember one evening in particular, when I decided to put on quite the show for Daddy. Donning a pale blue dress that barely covered my ass and left my tits dripping out from the top, I descended the grand staircase and pranced into the living room where he sat, engrossed in a book.

Twirling around around seductively, I made sure to flash him my little white panties and matching bra. With a wicked grin, I sauntered over to the bar cart and poured us both a glass of his favourite scotch. Placing one on the table next to him, I crawled onto his lap, careful not to spill a drop of mine. My breasts pushed against the thin fabric of my dress, straining against the constraints of my undergarments. 

I leaned in close, my hot breath tickling his ear as I whispered, "I've been a bad girl today, Daddy. I think I need another lesson downstairs." 

I could feel Daddy's cock twitch beneath me, straining against his tailored trousers. He closed his book slowly, setting it aside, and took the proffered glass from my hand. He sipped his drink thoughtfully before setting it down as well. "Is that so, princess?" His deep voice sent a wave of butterflies into my stomach. "And what exactly did you do to earn yourself another session in the cellar?"

I pouted prettily, batting my eyelashes at him. "Well, Daddy," I began, my own voice dripping with false innocence, "I may have lied to Mommy about going out with friends." I nibbled my bottom lip, watching the fire in his eyes ignite. "And...I might have spent the entire day masturbating instead, thinking about you and our last visit to the cellar."

Daddy's expression darkened, but I could see the lust swimming in his gaze. He set his glass down with a decisive thud, his grip tightening on my waist. Standing abruptly, he lifted me off his lap as if I weighed nothing and began to lead me by the hand towards the hidden entrance to the cellar.  

"Naughty girls like you," he growled, his fingers digging into my hips, "need to learn the difference between playing with themselves and asking Daddy for permission to play with themselves." He led me down the cold stone steps, my heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal's. The heavy wooden door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit chamber filled with tools designed to bring me to my knees. 

Once inside, Daddy instructed me to strip fully naked and put my high heels back on, which I did without protest. The cool air hit my flushed skin, sending goosebumps racing across my body. My nipples stood at attention, aching for his touch as I stepped out of the discarded fabrics, pooling at my feet. 

I was then ordered to lay atop the spanking bench, my wrists and ankles tightly secured to the leather surface. Daddy walked around me, inspecting me like his prized possession. He ran his hands over my bare ass cheeks, spreading them wide to expose my already wet pussy. "Hmm, someone seems excited for their punishment," he mused, a wicked glint in his eye. 

Then, the first blow landed, I yelped, my body jerking forward as I realized it was the heavy wooden paddle connecting with my flesh. The sting was immediate and intense, radiating outward until it consumed me whole. But amid the pain and my fear of the wooden paddle, there was something else - a delicious heat that spread through my core, making me wetter than I could shamefully imagine. Each subsequent strike drove me further into ecstasy and submission, my moans and cries filling the air around us.

I couldn't believe it when Daddy put the paddle away, undid me and handed my bra and panties to put back on. He stroked my tear-stained cheeks gently. "Now, now, little one," he murmured soothingly. "That's enough for today." My eyes snapped open, confusion and disappointment warring for dominance on my face. "But...but you said we could fuck today, Daddy. You promised!" I protested, pouting like a petulant child. 

I crossed my arms, my eyes pleading and filed with tears as I tried to convey my unspoken desperation. My entire being felt alight with need, my clit throbbing insistently as I squirmed in his grasp. "Please, Daddy," I whined, stamping my foot in frustration. "Don't tease me like this."

But Daddy simply chuckled and shook his head, leading me to the corner of the room where a tall metal cage stood. "No, princess," he corrected firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "First, you must learn patience. And perhaps some self-control." He guided me inside, binding my wrists to my ankles to ensure I could not reach or access my wet petals. 

With a wicked gleam in his eye, Daddy reached for a gag and fastened it in place, before closing the cage door and applying a padlock. I let out a muffled groan of frustration. 

My freshly paddled bottom smarted against the hard surface of the cage floor, sending sparks of pain shooting through me. He gave my chin a gentle caress before stepping back, admiring the sight. "Behave yourself little, little girl," he commanded before turning on his heels and striding out of the room, leaving me alone with my raging desires. Puzzling, as I watched him leave, was that he took the heavy wooden paddle with him. 

As the minutes dragged by, I shifted restlessly in my confinement, trying to find some semblance of comfort as my body continued to beg for release. The cage was just large enough for me to curl up into a tight ball, my legs drawn up to my stomach. Each movement sent new waves of agony coursing through my tenderized flesh, reminding me of the punishment I'd just received. 

The time passed excruciatingly slow, every second an eternity as I struggled against the bonds and the torrent of emotions cascading through me. Tears welled up in my eyes, but they weren't just from the discomfort - they were born of pure, unbridled lust and need. 

At long last, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as they approached the cellar. The door swung open, revealing Daddy in all his dominance. I looked up at him through a haze of desire, my vision slightly blurry from the tears that still clung to my lashes.

Without a word, Daddy approached the cage and produced a key. He unlocked the door and helped me to my feet, my limbs trembling with anticipation and fatigue. He guided me over to strange contraption in the center of the room - a padded table with restraints attached to each corner. Gently, he laid me upon it, pulling my legs up and apart so that my ankles were buckled into stirrups.

With a satisfied smirk, he picked up an decent-sized butt plug adorned with a tiny gemstone at its base. I felt myself tense as he circled my puckered hole with lubricant, my mind racing with fear and excitement. Apart from Daddy's tongue, I'd never had anything inserted up my butt before, but the way he looked at me made me want to please him more than anything. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, he pressed the tip of the plug against me. I squealed as it breached my defenses, the foreign sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. He didn't rush, taking his time to ease it inch by inch inside me until it was fully seated. The feeling of fullness was almost too much to bear, my pussy clenching rhythmically around nothingness as it screamed for attention.

As the plug remained buried deep within my asshole, I could feel my body adjust to the intrusion. The initial discomfort faded to a low hum of pleasure, my walls stretching to accommodate the new invader. It was strange, but also somehow freeing. Daddy leaned over me, his voice a husky whisper in my ear. "You are to keep that plug in for the remainder of the day, understand?" Daddy's stern voice cut through my haze of lust. 

He then released me from the bondage contraption, leaving the plug securely lodged inside me. With a wobbly nod, I complied, carefully easing my panties back up over my paddled bottom. The fabric brushed against the glimmering jewel, sending a jolt straight to my clit. I winced, but the discomfort quickly morphed into a newfound sense of arousal. I knew I would be walking around with this constant reminder of my submission to Daddy for hours to come. 

Once upstairs, I found Mom in the kitchen. I couldn't help but notice Mommy moving with an extra careful grace, her steps calculated and controlled. I watched from afar, as she surreptitiously reached back to subtly adjust whatever was hidden beneath her elegant dress. 

She was moving and behaving like I was! My heart skipped a beat. Could it be possible that she, too, had been paddled and plugged. Our eyes met briefly, and in that moment, I saw the same fire burning deep within hers that I felt in my own soul. 

Certain that we were alone in the kitchen, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. "Mommy..." I called out tentatively, unsure if she would appreciate my question. "May I...may I see yours?"

She turned towards me, her eyes wide with surprise before understanding dawned across her features. A soft blush coloured her cheeks as she lowered her gaze to the floor, a look of shame and humiliation sweeping over her. "Of course, sweetie," she replied demurely, turning around to bend over the counter and lift her dress at the back. Under the thin veil of her control-top pantyhose, there it was, a jeweled anal plug, nestled snugly between two perfectly round globes of crimson, paddle-kissed flesh. 

"Why did Daddy punish you?" I asked, unable to keep the awe out of my voice. She looked up at me, a mix of pain and longing evident in her expression before she spoke. 

"I politely asked your step-father to stop fucking you..." Her tone was cold and blunt. 

My hands flew to my mouth, shocked at her words. "No, Mommy!" I protested vehemently, my voice crackling with deceit. "That isn't true! We haven't been!" I shook my head, trying to convey my innocence through my pleading eyes. 

I knew it was a futile effort - the evidence was written plainly on my face and my reaction. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I struggled to maintain eye contact with Mommy. 

Swallowing hard, I managed to choke out a question. "Did Daddy...did he agree to stop...fucking me?"

Mommy's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought she might be genuinely angry with me. Instead, she stepped closer to me, her warm breath soothing in my ear as she leaned in to whisper, "I suppose that's something we'll all find out together, won't we, sweetheart?" She pulled me into a tight embrace, I felt her fingers searching over the seat of my panties for my butt plug, and she gave it a little press, causing me to jump with surprise. 

"For now," she murmured, "let's just focus on what Daddy expects of us and obeying him, you know where we have to be for the next hour, Tara...lets get these clothes off, shall we?

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: Country Roads, Take me Home

To follow the Tara Gregory storyline to the next tale, it can be found here: Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity