Tiptoes and Tears

Continued from: Oily Hufone Heit

A Sarah Jane story

The new dark room was a den of sin, a place where the most depraved fantasies could be indulged without shame or restraint...or so I thought. I ended up getting a very real spanking from 'Sir'. Let me tell you how things led to that point. 

As Daddy ushered us inside the new space, I could feel my cunt growing wet with anticipation, my body already primed for the filthy acts that were sure to follow. He wasted no time in securing me in place, forcing me down onto my knees and elbows with my ass obscenely thrust into the air. 

The cold leather cuffs bit into my wrists and ankles, holding me immobile as he shoved a thick rubber gag into my mouth, silencing any protests I might have made. Behind me, Mandy let out a muffled whimper as Daddy trussed her up in a brutal strappado position, her arms stretched taut behind her. The position forced her to lean forward, her face hovering mere inches from my exposed pussy and asshole. 

As Mandy struggled against her bonds, seeking some small measure of comfort, her nose would graze my puckered hole, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting through my body. I could only imagine the view from her perspective, my ass cheeks spread wide to reveal my fig-shaped, little puckered penny, slightly agape from the dildo stool in the previous room. The knowledge that she was being forced to confront such an intimate, dirty part of my anatomy sent a fresh rush of moisture to my cunt, even as I fought against the instinct to clench my muscles and hide myself from her gaze. 

As the minutes dragged on, Mandy's struggles grew more frantic, her body swaying back and forth in a desperate bid for relief. With each movement, her nose pressed harder against my bum hole, the sensation both thrilling and mortifying in equal measure. 

My own arousal was building, my clit throbbing with each ragged breath I took around the gag, I wanted to beg for release, to plead with Daddy to use me, to fill me with his cock until I screamed. But the gag held firm, reducing my pleas to a nothing more that muffled grunts and whimpers. I was nothing more than a toy, a plaything for Daddy to use as he saw fit. And god help me, I loved every minute of it. 

Our ordeal was far from over. Once Daddy had grown bored of watching Mandy's nose buried in my asshole, he untied us and dragged us to our feet. Our legs were shaking from the strain of our previous positions, but he showed no mercy as he forced us up onto our tiptoes like ballerinas. 

With swift, efficient movement, he secured our wrists, leaving us utterly helpless and at his mercy. But the true cruelty of his plan became apparent only when he knelt at our feet, attaching a small pad covered in wicked-looking spikes to the soles of our bare heels. 

A shiver of fear ran down my spine as I realized the implications of this new torment. If we allowed our tired calves to relax, even for a second, we would be forced to lower ourselves onto those sharp points. 

But if we tried to maintain our balance on our toes, our legs would quickly grow fatigued, the burn in our muscles becoming unbearable. 

It was a diabolical catch-22, a predicament designed to push us to the very limits of our endurance. As the seconds turned into minutes, I could feel my body beginning to shake with the effort of maintaining my position. 

Beside me, Mandy was faring no better, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she fought to stay on her tippy toes. Daddy circled us like a vulture, his camera trained on our contorted faces and trembling limbs, filming a little video for his future viewing pleasure. 

I clenched my core tightly, trying desperately to maintain my balance and avoid the cruel spikes beneath my heels. Suddenly, without waring, a loud fart ripped from my ass, echoing through the room like a gunshot. My eyes widened in horror, realizing too late that sitting on that dildo earlier must have pushed air deep into my bowels. The sound was unmistakable, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. 

Mandy stared at me in shock, while Daddy slowly lowered his camera, his face a mask of disappointment as he removed my ball gag. 

Before I could even begin to stammer out an apology, he was on me, dragging me roughly across the room to a bench and throwing me over his knee. I struggled against his grip, but it was useless - he was far too strong. His hand came down hard on my bare ass cheeks, the crack of flesh against flesh ringing out in the suddenly silent room. 

Through the haze of my humiliation, I could hear Mandy's shocked gasps, her horror only serving to amplify my own sense of disgrace. I had ruined Daddy's video by farting, and now I was paying the price, wracked with agony and embarrassment as Daddy's hand rose and fell, painting my bare bottom a deep angry red. 

As Daddy's spanking continued on my tender flesh, I found myself clenching my muscles, bracing against the impact. The pressure of his thighs on my tummy, combined with the tension in my core, proved too much for my already compromised bum hole. To my utter mortification, another fart escaped my body, this one even louder and longer than the last. 

Daddy froze mid-spank, his hand hovering above my quivering cheeks. For a moment, I dared to hope that he might show me some mercy, that he might understand the involuntary nature of my fart. But that hope was quickly dashed as he shoved me roughly off his lap, sending me tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs, attempting to shield my butt. 

I looked up at him, my vision blurred with tears, and watched in growing terror as he slowly unbuckled his belt, sliding it free from the loops of his pants with a soft whisper of leather against fabric. "You filthy pig," he snarled, doubling the belt over in his fist. "I'm going to teach you some manners." 

I scrambled backwards, trying desperately to put some distance between us, but there was nowhere to run. The first lash of the belt caught me across the backs of my thighs, a line of pure fire that stole the breath from my lungs. 

Through my pleas of "I'm sorry, Sir!" I could see Mandy, still balancing precariously on her toes, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and perverse arousal. I wanted to beg for her help, to plead with her to intervene, but the words died in my throat. All I could do was endure, my world narrowing down to the relentless rise and fall of the belt.

And I didn't even use my safeword! Hehe

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Brutal Tenderness

Machine Learning

Continued from: What Katie Did

I have some theories of what's in store for us, for humanity, when A.I. eventually takes the reins. Read Scary Smart by Mo Gawdat, if you'd like a preview of what's to come. But until that time, could we be in a little golden age of something new in the kink community? Have we even scratched the surface of what A.I. could mean for kinksters, for spankos, and other practitioners of BDSM? 

Over at Miss Julie's blog and even within mine, we have both dabbled with chatbots, trying to bend their will to our perversions and "force" them to write elaborate scenes of spanking smut. 

A.I. generated porn is probably a thing already, 1000 times more graphically detailed than the Sims I would think. This little doll appears to be "generated", not born of flesh and blood. Exactly how I like to dress my soccer moms and corporate executives, when they book me for a spanking. 

Load her image into a companion app or A.I. girlfriend app and suddenly you'll be hearing, "Daddy, I've been a bad girl again," coming from your phone with her image on display. 

I was playing around with one called Kindroid, using the bot in both a female dominant and female submissive format. Both were spot-on and such dirty little kink-girls! Wowzers. Seems like an expensive app to subscribe to but...there's a 3-day trial you can dabble with. 

There's been such valiant attempts in the past, to mechanize BDSM. Remember the Robospanker? It came with the time-release handcuffs for people who don't have a disciplinarian in their lives or were practicing distance-discipline. 

Set the timer on the cuffs, set the intensity of the machine and you're fucked!..once it begins. You are every person's CNC (consensual non-consent) fantasy come true. Literally trapped into a spanking machine for a set period of time. 

I think I recall the cuffs having like a dangling Allen key on a chain, within reach of the secured wrists. If you had to safeword yourself out from the intensity of the machine or if there was power outage or something, you could remove some rivets to free yourself. That doesn't sound like a quick process though, with a Lexan paddle, mechanically raining down on your bare ass.  

Here's a cute judicial version. "You are hereby sentenced to 45 minutes on the machine"!

Very darling! Look at the cones! "Stand back...there is correction being administered between the pylons". I'm totally getting this exact set-up for my Facility and begin to offer judicial sessions. 

Chimera was another fun and creative site back in the day. It featured some damsels in distress who would get themselves into self-bondage, only to realize there was some horrible, mechanized  predicament as the only means to their release. 

Here's the legendary Pandora Blake, trapped into some manner of paddling machine, no Dom or Domme needed. 

These sickos even did one where some poor girl in bondage, a gag and a chastity device had to get the temperature of a metal dildo to 101 degrees Fahrenheit, in order for "the machine" to unlock her binds. 

Ideas, anyone? Like a mystery escape room. Her mouth is gagged and her pussy was shrouded in metal. That leaves but one hole, yes?  

I called Chimera sickos but I remember watching this vid and becoming aroused. It was brilliantly creative. Who am I kidding, I loved it and diddled myself while I watched the poor captive girl, fight through the turmoil of her predicament. She knew that the only gateway to her escape would be via her asshole. She began to take the metal dildo into her bum and through a combination of her internal body temperature and the friction of her fucking her own ass, she reached the release temperature. 

I'm not sure if this was all engineered and mechanically actual or merely simulated. Either way...it was hot! If you can find the video I'd love to nostalgia-see it again.

More technological advancements came with this group. A whipping machine that not only lashes mechanically, but vertically moves upwards and downwards for better coverage across the bare bum and thighs. 

Again, this looks judicial and now I'm even more excited to install a "judicial wing" at the Facility. 

I forget the name of this group but it's the blonde disciplinarian with that older dude who looks Eastern European. They had and may still have the cornerstone of the market on automated pussy and anus whipping, totally awesome!

And venturing into the mad scientist realm, we have The House of Gord. Insanely creative predicaments of torture, cruelty and objectification of these poor women. Have you ever seen his work? 

It's undeniably pretty and artistic, but this studio takes the cake as the most mechanized and intelligently adaptive. I think in the above predicament, if the poor woman doesn't maintain an airtight seal around a dildo in her mouth, the machine automatically tilts her bare soles onto two electro-shock pads. 

Same sort of set-up in this one. If blondie here stops giving head to the dildo, I would imagine the Hitachi wand I see between her legs either starts or stops running. I would assume the former, to encourage her to suck that dildo. 

See how far we have come, in mechanized BDSM? What will the future hold for us kinksters, only limited to our own creativity and now with the possibility of an A.I. assist.

I came across this one the other day, which ultimately inspired this entire post: 

Isn't this absolutely adorable!? 

Personally, I'd swap out the little ticking needles for thin strips of supple leather, that gently whip the bare soles instead of tickling them. Lash after lash, with the soles so perfectly secure and presented. After ten minutes on the machine, it's beginning to get uncomfortable. By the 15-minute mark it's starting to feel like a punishment. By 20 minutes she's struggling like the image above and hoping for a power outage...and of course, the machine is set for 25, just to push her limits a bit.

A nod to ELEKTRATOUCH who presumably created this animation. Well done! 

Like everything else in our history, we seem to be on a trajectory to technologically advance, even in the world of kink. Spanking machines using basic gears to an A.I. Dominatrix who will chat with you about fisting your asshole (which my Kindoid actually suggested during a chat with me).

I'll be part of the last generation to walk this planet who knew a world without cell phones and without the internet. Yet, you're reading this post on a phone that has more tech inside it, than everything in the spacecraft that "apparently" landed on the moon 50 years ago. That's rapid advancement. 

Will Cassandra's clients for instance, be able to create an A.I. version of her? Dom or sub? Maybe both, depending on the person's mood. 

She and I won't have anymore clients if this occurs! 

"Look Master, you programmed me to suck cock. Look how well I can do it." 

Yep, the fembots are gonna take my job away!

Exciting times though, right? What's going to happen between now, and the moment the robot intelligence realizes we are about as significant to them, as ants on the ground are to us.

Let's all hope for a Renaissance, golden-age of A.I., with machine-assisted BDSM! What could go wrong?! 

Haha

Mistress Andrea

xoxo  

Continued in: Judicial Authority

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Only if it's ok with Daddy

Continued from: Sexual Aggression

A story from slave sarah 

Hi everyone. It's sarah. Mistress Andrea has set me up in her office once again and has asked me to post about what's been happening for the last few weeks at her Facility. 

If you remember back to my last post called Age Progression, Russell officially became my "Daddy" Dom and I became his "little", complete with diapers and pacifier gags. I can only say with all honesty, it's been dreadfully humiliating for me, but there is a certain level of comfort and care that comes along with it...it's difficult to explain. 

Most days of the week I report to the Facility after work where that young Cassandra girl, rids me of my normal clothes and helps me dress and do my make-up the way Daddy want's me. I always look so little and ridiculous, dripping with bows and ruffles and satin. I'm ashamed to admit however, that the humiliation gets me dripping in other ways too. It's involuntary and I can't help but feel a rush to my princess parts, when Cassie puts me in ruffled ankle socks and Mary Janes.

On weekends I am typically checked-in to the Facility Friday night and I am not released until late Sunday. I spend time locked in my frilly pink cell, between play and training scenes with Daddy and I have been earning plenty of gold stars on my progression chart.  

There have been a few demerits earned, which usually means I get Daddy's belt right on the spot, draped over his knee with my bum bare, regardless of who is around to see or hear. 

"Sarah Jane, go fetch Daddy's belt and meet me in the living room," is what I recall him saying to me. He and everyone else at the Facility call me by my first and middle name now, when I am in trouble. It definitely stirs the butterflies in the pit of my stomach when I hear that and know I'm in for it!

I then have to do the walk of shame to the spare bedroom, also known as "Daddy's room", and retrieve his well-worn belt from the hook it hangs on the back of the door. 

I sheepishly shuffle into the living room with it, doubled-over in my hands. Once again, regardless of who else is present, my panties are hiked down to my ankles and I am strapped, over Daddy's knee. I end up sobbing in the timeout corner of the living room for about 25 minutes, then I have to put a sad-face sticker 😢 on my progress chart. 

But my gold stars certainly outweigh the demerits I have earned. I hope to have enough to be promoted soon and get the hell out of these crinkly diapers and ruffled diaper covers I am often made to wear. 

When Daddy has me lay on my back and changes me, right in the living room, I want to crawl under the floor and die of embarrassment. 

This happened to be one of the first times I met Mistress Andrea's wife actually. I feel sick to my stomach even now, typing about this humiliation. 

I was on the living room floor with my legs in the air. ME! A grown woman...being powdered and diapered by Daddy when the two of them walked in. 

Daddy led me by the hand to meet Summer for the first time and I could barely look at her I was so ashamed. 

I found her to be very sweet and bubbly. Even though I was on the verge of tears, she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. 

I remember her whispering something into my ear to the effect of, "don't be embarrassed Sarah Jane, I know what crinkly diapers feel like too." 

I think Mistress Andrea overheard. She was sitting on the couch with Daddy. She suddenly turned to him and said, "Russ, maybe we could get these two together for a playdate?" 

"A playdate!!" Summer squealed out loud!

Then I watched this little thing, still in her work uniform; I guess she's a flight attendant or something, run over and jump into her wife's arms like a child and begin to call her "Mommy". 

"Mommy, can we, can we?" She repeated out loud while bouncing up and down in Mistress' arms. 

Daddy and I watched on. Daddy actually started chuckling at Summer's behaviour but I was still paralyzed with humiliation. 

"Only if it's ok with Sarah's Daddy." I heard Mistress say. 

Well...that was a week ago and I have since been promoted. I earned enough gold stars on my progress chart that as I sit here and type this, I am no longer sitting on the padded crinkle of a pink diaper. 

Rather, Daddy has me in a cute plaid jumper and knee socks with proper school knickers. 

How did I earn enough gold stars to be promoted you ask? 

I'll have to post about the playdate with Summer, if Mistress and Daddy allow it. Then it will become abundantly clear. 

Sarah Jane ; ) 

xoxo

Continued in: Slave Sisters

Age Progression

Continued from: Two Days a Captive

A post from slave sarah 

As I wrote about in my last post, I just spent the better part of two days in a BDSM jail cell, with my throbbing pussy locked into a chastity belt a majority of the time. I was only removed from my cell to be whipped or sexually used by my Master. It was a very heavy scene that spanned the two days of my captivity. I loved and hated it equally...

Master did some tender aftercare with me and took me to a room that also had a lockable cell door, but appeared much more comfortable than the previous space I was in. 

Everything was pink and ruffled and adorable. Almost immediately I felt comforted in this space. I felt little and vulnerable. Russell sat me down and explained a new plan he had for me. 

I was told that this space was the alternative to being in the stark and dank jail cell for my sessions, that this "little" space would be the first step in my age progression. It was made very clear to me that I would be required to wear crinkly diapers on occasion and I would be required to dress in extremely elaborate sissy attire, almost like a doll, with Mary Janes, ankle socks or even white tights. 

Russell explained that his role would become a Daddy Dom and I would be his "little". I would have rules, boundaries and be protected and cared for while under Daddy's control. Consequences would no longer involve bondage apparatus and whippings, rather, I was told I would be given childish punishments like over-the-knee spanking, mouth soaping and timeouts. The diapers, the outfits and my new lifestyle when at the Facility, would be extremely humiliating, he went on to explain, before showing me little child's calendar on the wall. 

Russell told me that through obedience, acceptance of my new role and good behaviour, I will earn gold stars on my calendar. It sounded like if I kneel and suck Daddy's cock for instance, and accept his cum into my mouth, then all cute-like, thank Daddy for his cum once I have swallowed it, I would earn a gold star on my chart.

If I achieve enough stars, I would be promoted in "age". From what I was told the next stage would involve me dressed as a schoolgirl in short tartan jumpers and skirts. There would be no more diapers used but discipline would now involve a cane, paddle and strap, not just a hand-spanking over Daddy's knee. My room would change and I would be attending the classroom upstairs, for many of my scenes. 

Again, I would be subject to a system of either demerit points or gold stars, based on my submission, behaviour and obedience. Russell explained that after this stage, if I earn a promotion again, I enter an "older" schoolgirl role. Knee socks become thigh-highs or tights, my skirts become sluttier and shorter and my heels get higher. 

The more he explained the more I was really starting to enjoy this concept of age progression. Apparently after the second schoolgirl look, I would become a slutty secretary and one step closer to what Russell was calling an Upper Floor sex slave, which I also liked the sounds of. If it's anything like the Upper Floor porn site where the girls are in those red and black seamed stockings, I'm all in! I'd love to be used like that and be that well trained. 

This entire plan also involves demerit points. Ying and yang I guess. You can't have pleasure without pain, and there can't be gold stars without also having demerits. Russell explained to me that if demerit points were earned, I could be demoted down a rung, like suddenly regressing from schoolgirl, back into diapers and into the pink room for instance. If I was so naughty that I am demoted from the pink room, I end up back in the jail cell, left alone and only released to be flogged and aggressively fucked.

This was definitely the incentive I needed, before agreeing to all of this. I didn't want to end up in shackles, locked in that jail cell and left alone again. I seductively plopped my bare, recently whipped ass onto Russell's lap and he pulled me in for a lovely embrace. 

I did my very best sucky and needy, baby-voice and for the first time, called Russell, "Daddy". 

"What do you say we get you out of that chastity belt and into a comfy diaper little one?" He asked me. 

Of course I purred back to him immediately, "yes Daddy." 

After some time spent at the vanity table and mirror, and with Daddy coaching me on, I surprised even myself when my reflection suddenly involved ringlets a hair bow and heavy make-up. 

It was nice to be rid of the clunky metal chastity belt but I was dreadfully humiliated when I had to adopt a diaper pose for my new Daddy. Like suddenly I was shy and modest?! This gorgeous man just spent two days violating all three of my fuck-holes with his penis. Pussy-to-mouth, ass-to-mouth and back again...yet this was the embarrassing part for me? Having to hold my legs wide and in the air while Daddy powders my pussy and anus, then slides a crinkly diaper under my tailbone. 

I had to put on this hideous, ridiculous satin dress but I was relieved that it hid my diaper. Next came white knee socks and little doll heels in blue gingham. 

This was a horrible and devious predicament I had just agreed to. My outfit and my new role was humiliating beyond belief, but the humiliation was only making my pussy wet and achy. The humiliation wasn't excruciating to the point that I would purposely act out and become demoted, just to be rid of these clothes. If I acted up I would be punished and surely end up naked, shackled and returned to the jail cell. 

My only reprieve would be through promotion. Promotion away from these silly clothes and this dreadful role. For this I had to be a good girl for Daddy, and earn those gold stars on my chart! When his penis was produced a short time later, I wasted no time in going for gold! I'll be the best LG this DD has ever experienced! 

"Ohhh Daddddddy!! It's so big." I purred to him as his cock began to swell in my little hand. 

"Daddy, I love it when it grows in my mouth!" I continued on with my vulnerable, baby-voice. 

Daddy was so gentle and caring with me. Not only did I earn a gold star that day, but also a pussy full of Daddy's cum! 

Thank you Daddy!
 

slave sarah

xoxo

Continued in: Working from Home

Two Days a Captive

Continued from: She was a skater girl

A post from slave sarah

My session with Master had come to end. It ended with his strong masculine embrace, after being released from my cell. I nuzzled my head into his shoulder and thanked Russell sincerely. Not for being released from my cell, but rather, the amazing session he gave me. 

I came to learn later on, that I had spent a total of two days and two nights in that cell, only being hauled out for sexual use, whippings and torture. The most tender and intimate parts of my body ached with tingles of soreness and latent pain. The soles of my bare feet were tender, having felt the lash multiple times. My nipples were sensitive to the touch, from being whipped, clamped and pinched. The back of my throat hurt a little and both my filthy cunt and asshole were puffy, red and abused. 

I felt alive! I felt elated. Everything that just happened to me was exactly what I asked for and everything I had hoped for. 

When Russell sadly bid me farewell, officially brining an end to the multi-day session, Mistress asked if I was ok to sit and blog about my sexual degradation. I told her I was. She kept me fully naked and did not remove my metal collar. She gagged my mouth and set me up at her office desk. Of course all of this, the ritual, the ball-gag and having to shamefully blog about my session was making me aroused all over again. 

I'm not 100% sure where to begin. Much of my session was a blur of my heart racing, ridiculously powerful orgasms, then left in solitude with my thoughts, unable to masturbate because of that fuckin' chastity belt. 

I seem to remember a transition that occurred from one jail-space to another. If you remember back to a previous post of mine, I was bound and gagged in a much smaller cell that only contained a toilet and some shackles. 

Master bound me in such a way that my head was more or less IN the toilet, then he fucked me from behind, good and hard. 

I think at this point we broke scene and with his cum still oozing from my pussy, he did a check-in with me, both emotionally and physically. I think he could see the frenzy of lust in my eyes and he asked me something to the effect of, "you want more don't you? Harder, heavier, more humiliating...?"

I nodded my head in excitement, replying with a "yes Sir." 

He asked me if I had anywhere be for the next few days. Nope...my schedule was clear, just for this BDSM vacation. And gawd did I ever need it, it was truly a slave-cation. 

I think I groaned out loud when Master took me to my new cell and I saw the galvanized farm basin. How horribly humiliating! I actually thought Master was going to hose me down and wash me down like an animal, before using me again. Even contemplating this now, as I write this, I'm dying of humiliation...yet my cunt continues to betray me! Why is this level of degradation so arousing to me? 

Luckily for me, Master locked me in my cell and left, telling me to "freshen up" in private. Also lucky for me, the hose provided came with both hot and cold water. I probably could have used a "cold shower" though, gawd I was so fuckin' aroused! My clit was aching so badly in that Goddamn chastity belt. 

At one point I even tried to use the hose nozzle to spray warm water through the metal screening that housed my pussy. I almost, almost got myself off...groan* almost. 

I tried a a few other positions and moves as well, but it was hopeless. Master had officially taken control of my pussy and my orgasms until further notice. 

I remember laying down at this point, defeated and frustrated. I think I even tried to nap but the deep ache in my pussy and my metal accessories made it difficult. I don't think I was left idle for all that long, before Master returned to use me again. 

He made me stand and squat inside the farm trough, while he fucked my mouth and throat. Eventually his hot cum splashed into my mouth, which I swallowed down immediately. 

I coughed and sputtered, apparently taking too long to thank him for his cum. Master shackled me into a bondage thing outside my cell, that my head and wrists went into. He "reminded me" with his belt, that I was to verbally thank him for his cum, no matter what hole of mine it ended up in. 

"Thank you for your cum Master." He made me cry out loud as he strapped me with his belt. 

I remember being put back in my cell after the belt-thrashing, nursing some very thick welts and crying into my little cot. 

There was still no relief for my naughty cunt, which was more or less gushing through the metal screening at this point. 

The next visit from Master I think it was my tits and nipples, that became the focus of my masochistic desires. A flogger, clothespins, clamps and even electro-pads. I received all of the wonderful and torturous sensations. 

I did manage to sleep through the night, both nights in-fact, despite the rigid chastity belt. The belt was occasionally removed throughout my slavery and I experienced some of the hardest and most ferocious orgasms of my life!

I loved all of the sweet torture and being used repeatedly as Master's fuck toy, but I didn't like the moments where I was left alone and wasn't being cuddled or played with. 

However, this is the session I asked for. When those steel bars rattled shut and my cell was locked, I began to question whether or not some things are best left to fantasy...

I'm glad I got to experience this though. I had a safeword, I didn't use it. I can't picture myself asking for the captive, consensual non-consent option again. I suppose if I disobeyed or misbehaved I could be sent here as punishment, but I wouldn't be looking forward to it!

That being said, when my session ended and before I was turned over to Mistress to sit here and type, I was taken to another room of the house and given an option. This room was very pink and frilly.

I was then given the choice to trade in Master for "Daddy".

This was a very interesting turn of events indeed. I'm not sure what path to choose yet...

slave sarah 

xoxo

Continued in: Age Progression