Sarah and Russell return

Continued from: And the winner is...

A post from slave sarah

It had been quite some time since that first session with Russell, where he whipped me and used all three of my fuck-holes. Even now, as I sit here and type this between my zoom meetings, the memories of that afternoon have my panties soaked. 

The good news is, we have been texting (sexting) ever since, he is training me and developing me into exactly what he wants. I am to be his whore, his personal slut, one step above an inflatable sex doll, and I absolutely love it!

I have never met a man more thorough than Russell, who I now only address as Master or Sir. His attention to detail always keeps me on my toes, both literally and figuratively. I have structure in my life now, rules to follow and severe consequences for misbehaviour. My nails and toes are always done, baby pink, by Master's request. I also find myself wearing hosiery more often, with high heels, and I now favour dresses and skirts to pants. 

He has me on a strict orgasm diet. I am not to masturbate without his permission and can definitely not cum without his permission. This has been frustrating at times, but I'm more or less walking around in a constant state of arousal 24/7...which is exactly how Master wants me, absolutely begging for it. 

Over the past few months, since our first session together, I have learned positioning, expanded my wardrobe and impressed my Master through my own degrading obedience to him. He was ready to see me again and see to me he certainly did! Mistress Andrea is "making" me blog about it, to humiliate and degrade me even further. 

Here goes...

It was a Tuesday morning. Mistress greeted me when I arrived in my cute dress and pantyhose. Master ordered me to arrive this way, feminine and classy, always in heels. 

I had forgotten just how beautiful Mistress was and how well she commanded over me, without ever needing to say a word. She directed me toward that locker room which, through a large window, is visible to her kitchen. She told me to strip fully naked in the locker room, do my hair into a high-pony, then come find her. I was so embarrassed, yet each time she told me what to do my clit jumped and trembled in anticipation of her next command. 

I did as I was told and underwent the walk of shame from the lobby and into the locker room. The last time I was in this house, in the kitchen to be exact, I remember seeing some dreadfully humiliated man in there, dressed like a little girl and sitting on one of the benches. 

Now it was my turn, to maybe feel what that man had felt, a mixture of shame, anticipation and excitement, to be so exposed and publicly humiliated. I knew Mistress had a wife named Summer, who I have not yet met. As I began to strip naked I was praying she wasn't in the kitchen, watching me. It was bad enough to be naked in front of the stunning Mistress Andrea. 

I tiptoed out of the locker room, having seen Mistress in the kitchen through the glass. The tile was cold against my bare feet and was causing my nipples to harden. I padded my way over to Mistress and told her I was ready. I kept my eyes lowered in her presence, as Master had taught me, and only addressed her as Ma'am. 

She looked me up and down quickly, before inviting me to follow her upstairs. Master wanted me accessorized and kneeling for him and I guess Mistress was tasked to assist. 

With a snap and a point to the floor she had me kneeling. I think she was testing how sharp and well-trained I had become. I got into a kneel for her urgently, remembering to keep my eyes down, back arched and tits thrust out. I noticed first, on the coffee table, a collection of chain, heavy metal shackles and padlocks. My butterflies were raging at this point!

Mistress was gentle and remained quiet, as she drew each of my hands into hers, one by one, to apply the metal cuffs and click a padlock shut. My ankles too and finally a collar, all adorned with these stainless cuffs each of which got their own padlock. 

I liked the heavy weight feel of these shackles. It was making me feel more captive and more like a sex slave. 

The silence was broken when she asked me if Master had any preparations before this session that I had to do at home. My face burned with embarrassment, obviously Mistress knew what I was made to do. 

I responded to her with a little hesitation, not enough to get me struck or punished it would seem. 

"Yes Ma'am, I gave myself a soapy enema Ma'am, released it, then took a second clear-water one, as a rinse out." 

Fuck me! I was so humiliated, which only got worse when she suddenly asked me to present my asshole to her. 

I stood with urgency, sharp like a soldier coming to attention. Master and I had practiced and drilled all of this into me, I knew what was expected. I bent at the waist for Mistress and shamefully spread my ass cheeks open to present her my bare asshole. 

"Very smooth and pretty young lady, such a healthy and pink little pucker." Mistress then said. 

I died a little bit inside, it was so humiliating to hear her speak like this, so matter-of-factly about my butt hole! Sure enough my cunt was soaked, I couldn't help it. I hoped she didn't see. I held my spread position for her as she slathered a healthy amount of lubricant onto my asshole. I clenched from the cold sensation but Mistress told me to relax. She told me that Master wanted me plugged. 

Once was anus was stretched and full, I was snapped back to the floor with a point, once again into a kneel. Mistress told me to wait for Master then she clicked out of the room. I was alone with my thoughts. 

When Master eventually arrived I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. He wasn't holding a whip or his belt, no toys or crops. I didn't know what to expect from this session but my pussy was burning with a deep ache.  

He attached a chain to my collar ring and simply told me to follow him. I was taken down to the basement to an area of the house I had never seen before. Some parts were dark, there was a slight dampness in the air but it was at least warm, even with my nakedness. 

He led me by the chain leash to a far corner of a stone-walled room, where I could see a cell. He produced a large key to unlock the heavy metal door, then told me to get inside. I whimpered in defeat but didn't protest. I tiptoed into this small space obediently.

I think it was like a shitty old linoleum floor. Whatever it was it was cold against my bum and when Master put me into a sit, the anal plug pressed deeper into my asshole. I couldn’t stop myself from groaning like a whore when I felt that plug violate my ass.

My shackles were all connected and locked together and I was put into a heavy duty, strict harness gag with a leather blindfold. The cell door creaked shut and I jumped when the lock ratted into place. 

"When I feel like fucking you in the ass, I'll be back..."

This was the last thing he said to me, before I was left alone in that three by three cell. Unable to see, drooling from my gag and clenching the anal plug with my pucker. 

And what was occupying my mind, in my captive solitude, was the hope that I'd soon be fucked in the ass. I may not look it, from the image above, but I was so freakin' excited!

slave sarah 

xo

Continued in: Toilet Sex

 

Sissy School

Continued from: Wait for him by the door

Based on the progression of these latest stories, you can now see how this poor sissy's weekend of kink-captivity is organized and structured. 

Arrival and check-in was the initial transformation on Friday, the application of pretty nail polish and make-up, then a slutty sissy outfit. Saturday was a full day spent in a lockable maid dress with all the trimmings and now, on Sunday, Lexi was dressed and ready for "Sunday School", having just performed her morning ritual. 

Under the watchful eye of Erin, Lexi would be writing punishment lines on the chalkboard, sitting quietly at her desk and reading sissy erotica and basically spend the entire morning in a form of detention. Under his little plaid skirt were delicate, silk panties in stark white. Under his panties, his tiny pink chastity cage housed his denied penis. 

The schoolgirl look was deeply humiliating for Lexi. He was even made to wear a bra that matched his panties, with little fake, A-cup titties inside. What was most dreadful and butterfly-inducing about Sunday's however, was that Sunday was the real spanking day. 

Lexi was given an entry spanking on Friday night, over Erin's knee but that was nothing compared to what was to come. Lexi knew that around noon, his fantasy Sunday School day would end. He would be held behind after class to be caned by the teacher for poor behaviour. 

Then, with a note from the teacher in-hand, his fantasy takes him "home", to a domestic setting, where he has to hand the teacher's note to his strict parents. Apparently this was a thing back in the days of school-endorsed corporal punishment. If you were caned or paddled at school, you'd absolutely be getting the belt or hairbrush back home by Mom or Dad. 

This particular sissy, wanted the type of spanking that didn't really begin, until he is wishing it was over, with plenty of kicking and crying like a little girl. 

The school bell snapped Lexi from a trance-like state at his desk. Erin, playing the role of the strict teacher, stood and beckoned the naughty schoolgirl over near the pommel horse. 

"You know the drill young lady," Erin spoke and patted the top of the horse. 

Lexi lowered his head and began to remove his skirt completely, followed by his panties. Both were neatly folded and placed on the teachers desk. Then, Lexi draped himself over the pommel horse, standing on his highest tiptoes with legs spread. 

Erin gave the humiliated sissy 18 strokes of the school-cane and made him count them aloud, thanking her after each stroke. The caning left Lexi with a lovely pattern of raised welts, from his upper buttocks to the backs of his thighs. 

He was then placed in timeout while Erin prepared a note for his "parents". 

As the fantasy day continued for Lexi, he now found himself standing before Mom and Dad, handing them the teachers note and explaining that he got in trouble at school and was caned. 

"Go select an envelope young lady", Erin ordered, now playing the role of Lexi's Mom. 

"Yes Mommy," he replied. 

Lexi shamefully clicked out of the room in her Mary Jane heels and crisp knee socks, and down the hallway to the home office. She performs this same ritual every Sunday, while under the care of Erin and Brad, all while wearing different styles and versions of schoolgirl uniforms. 

On the corner of the desk in the office are a stack of manila envelopes. There is nothing written on them and they are in no logical order of any kind. Within the envelops is a single 5x8 card. Lexi is required to select an envelope, at random, and bring it back to Erin and Brad, unopened. 

On the little 5x8 card within the envelope, it will have one of two words written on it: 

Mommy

or

Daddy

As I'm sure you've already guessed, each week when Lexi performs this vulnerable ritual, the title on the card selected is the person who will punish Lexi. 

The embarrassed sissy will stand before Erin and Brad, unseal the envelope and look at the title on the card. Then he is required to say: 

"Daddy, may I please be given a spanking, Sir?" or;

"Mommy, may I please be given a spanking, Ma'am?" 

This is performed, all while he is dressed like a naughty schoolgirl, with his penis locked in a chastity cage, his wig in pigtails and heavy make-up on. My gawd I'd want to crawl right under the floor, this would be so humiliating! 

Is there a huge difference between a spanking from Mommy versus a spanking from Daddy, in Lexi's world? Apparently not a huge difference, both are serious spankings and always end in tears, both are predominately administered over-the-knee. With a Mommy-card selection, Lexi would likely receive her hairbrush. With a Daddy selection, he'll most definitely be getting Daddy's belt. 

Who's lap will Lexi's bare bum be draped across very shortly? What's your guess?

Doesn't she just look like she should have a wooden spoon in her hand? Maybe it'll be Mommy's strict lap this week.

Or, over one of Daddy's knees? So he can pin Lexi's flailing feet down with his other leg? 

Lexi stood before Erin and Brad and tore open the envelope...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: And the winner is...

 

Sarah's first Post

Continued from: The Journal

A post from Sarah

Hello everyone, I'm Sarah. 

You may remember me from some of Mistress Andrea's recent posts. It was I who came to her, seeking something I have never been able to fully explain, not even to myself. The need to be degraded, sexually used and humiliated at the hands of a man, it is as much a part of me as my eye colour.

Not long after I met with Mistress, things developed quickly for me. Now, I find myself alone in her office, bare naked and gagged. Both of my ankles are chained and padlocked to the legs of her desk, as I furiously copy what is written in my journal, onto her blog. 

She told me I had a penchant for writing and asked that I keep a journal of my experiences at her Facility. I am under instructions to share my experiences with you, Mistress says it will help to humiliate and shame me even further. 

I don't believe her to be wrong, as I sit here typing, with drool escaping from my gag, and my own dripping cunt, dabbing the cool leather of her office chair. 

Mistress coached me to be raw during my writing, unfiltered and to describe not only my experiences, but how they make me feel. I'll apologize in advance, if my words are harsh or descriptions vulgar. This is a BDSM blog after all...

I'll recall back to my first experience at the Facility, to begin with. I wasn't really sure what to expect when I arrived, but knew in advance there would be some manner of reception process. This is spoken about on Mistress' client website. 

Being greeted by a receptionist was not much of a shock to me either, but what was shocking, was how young and beautiful this Cassandra girl was.

She had a bit of a dykey hairstyle, she was sporting a nose ring, but she was one of those young women who is so attractive that she can pull off a short haircut. 

Miss Cassandra said a few things but I was such a ball of nerves that most of it didn't register. Only my primal instincts of obedience remained. I sat when she told me, stood when she told me and refrained from speaking unless spoken to. 

There was another small formality with some paperwork, this occurred in a very childish and vulnerable classroom. I ended up at a little school desk facing a wall and visible from the street through the windows. It wasn't lost on me that around the room and hanging from some of the walls, were wooden paddles, straps and canes. I had a deeply pitted feeling in my stomach, the best and the worst type of butterflies, wresting with each other. It was only going to get more intense for me, as I soon found myself bare naked in front of Mistress, with a sign around my neck that said SLUT. 

It was a dreadfully long ten minutes of silence, facing that mirror with my hands on my head, forced to stare at my own reflection and vulnerability. I wanted to cry, I wanted to groan out loud, like a whore in heat. My emotions were conflicted. 

The most memorable moment of this session however, came when Mistress gently rested her fingers on my embarrassingly soaked cunt. Like checking someone's pulse, the pressure of her fingers was so light, I wondered if she was checking to feel for actual throbbing. 

"It seems your kink, is gender neutral Sarah," is what she said to me. These words didn't cut right through me, but long after I had left her Facility, I was still reflection upon what she said.

I wanted to feel pain, to be bound and captive and used only for my fuckholes, for someone else's amusement. I guess Mistress was right, my arousal doesn't need a specific gender. My very sexual identity had been betrayed by my own greedy cunt!

But she came through with a male for me, and before I knew it, I was clicking in my heels on cobblestone, knees wobbling from nerves, as I walked toward this man seated next to Mistress. 

Once I was introduced to Russell, and he to I, what I noticed first, quite shockingly I might add, was that he didn't seem to take himself too seriously. Odd I thought, for someone professing to be a Dom. 

I think my mind may have been conditioned to porn I've watched, or that dumb Fifty Shades business. Did the character Christian Grey ever smile during any of those movies? To be a Dom, does it mean you have to look and behave with such burning intensity, that women just submit to your demeanour alone?  

In very short order, what I learned about Russ was that he was serious when he wanted to be, funny, a bit quirky and goofy and was always laughing or smiling. Quite the departure from what I would have expected. Also unexpected, he didn't demand to be addressed in some formal BDSM title, in fact he didn't bring up anything kink at all. 

Oh, and one more thing I noticed. Russ is absolutely hot! 

I thought it was peculiar when Mistress abruptly left us, but she explained to me later why she did that. Once Russell and I were alone, vanilla chat continued, but my whorish mind had gone someplace else. 

He produces his cock right in that bistro courtyard. He addresses me as "slut" and tells me to get on my knees, then he grabs the back of my head and forces me down on his cock, causing me to wretch. As I struggle for air my legs were flailing a bit, causing several runs in the knees of my pantyhose. 

As I'm still trying to swallow down his giant load of cum he notices my hose and begins to tear away the rest of my clothing, eventually hauling me over his knee and thrashing my ass with his strong hand. 

I'm taught a long, hard lesson, right in public, to take better care of my hosiery. Then he grabs me by the throat and leads me back over to the table, ripping open the gusset of my pantyhose to expose my sloppy cunt. 

He fucks me right on the spot, still in my heels with wisps of torn nylon hanging from my legs. 

I was listening to him, of course, during our vanilla chatter, but this is everything I was dreaming of him doing to me. 

Could he be this forceful, this harsh with me? His personality didn't seem to fit that mold. For Christ sakes, he kissed my hand like it was 1822, before he left. 

Nevertheless, I wanted to find out. I was ALL in!

I was about to find out, as soon I finish this post actually. I'm not just bare naked and gagged in Mistress' office for humiliation purposes. I am bare naked because that's how 'Master' wanted me today, for our first session. He was set to arrive soon.

My gag was removed and I was gently led upstairs by Mistress, who took my sweaty and clammy hand into hers. 

"He wants you kneeling upright, right here Sarah," she said as she pointed to a spot on the floor.

"Hands at your sides, eyes down and only address him as Sir," she finished with, before leaving me alone in that room.  

Holy fuck! My heart was pounding. 

slave sarah

xoxo

Continued in: Objectification