Cabin Fever

Continued from: "Come on, let's Colour"

[F/f] [lezdom] [MDLG] [spanking] [cornertime] [hairbrush] [OTK] [BDSM]

The car tires crunched on the gravel driveway as we pulled up to the quaint cottage nestled in the snowy woods. The night air was crisp an cold, and the moon shone brightly overhead. I turned to Summer, who was practically bouncing with excitement in the passenger seat. "We're here, sweetie," I announced, a warm smile spreading across my face. "Our own little winter wonderland." 

Summer's eyes sparkled with delight as she took in the charming sight before us. The cottage was straight out of a fairy tale, with its pitched roof and stone chimney puffing out wisps of smoke. As we gathered our bags from the trunk, I couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. This was exactly what we needed - a chance to escape the hustle and bustle of the Facility and reconnect with each other in a peaceful, romantic setting. 

I had been looking forward to this wintery getaway for weeks, eager to escape the stresses of daily life and indulge in some "quality time" with my beloved wife. 

While Summer busied herself exploring the quaint living room and kitchen, I slipped into the bedroom, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of my lips. From my suitcase, I retrieved a delicate yellow gingham dress, its fabric gentle and pristine. Beside it, I laid out a pair of crisp white knee socks and a set of glossy Mary Jane heels, their patent leather gleaming in the soft lamplight. Despite her age, I knew Summer craved the vulnerability and submission that such an outfit represented. 

With a satisfied nod, I turned my attention to a second bag, this one containing an array of implements designed for a very specific purpose. One by one, I extracted the paddles and straps, running my fingers over their smooth surfaces and testing their weight in my hands. 

As I neatly arranged a few of the tools on the bed, I called out to Summer, my voice gentle but firm. "Sweetheart, it's Sunday...you know what we have to do. Please change and come get me when you're ready. You'll be going over Mommy's knee for your weekly maintenance." 

I could hear Summer's sharp intake of breath as she hurried to comply, taking in the sight of all the logistics that I laid on the bed for her. 

As I sat waiting on the plush sofa, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, I heard the clicking patter of clunky Mary Janes approaching from the bedroom. 

When she finally emerged in the doorway, I couldn't help but catch my breath at the sight before me. There she stood, my beautiful, mature wife, transformed into the picture of youthful innocence. Her hair was tied up in pigtails, the blonde tresses bouncing gently with each movement of her head. 

As she stepped into the living room, she executed a perfect curtsy, her skirt flaring out around her as she dripped. "Good evening, Mommy," she greeted me formally. "I'm ready for my spanking, Mommy."

"Thank you sweetheart," I replied, reaching out to take her hand in mine. With a gentle squeeze, signaling that it was time to begin our weekly ritual, I led her back to the bedroom and pulled a straight-backed chair from the corner, positioning it in the middle of the room. 

With practiced ease, she reached under her dress and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to her knees. I took a seat in the chair, and watched as she gathered the fabric of her dress in her hands and lifted it high above her waist, exposing the full curve of her perfect bum. 

There was something so profoundly erotic and taboo about the sight of her standing there, half-naked, bald pussy trembling with vulnerability, yet radiating an aura of quiet strength and confidence. 

Without a word, Summer positioned herself over my knees, draping herself into a jackknife with her palms coming to rest on the floor. 

"You know this is for your own good, sweetheart," I gently cooed as I rested my palm on the small of her back. Taking a deep breath, I raised my hand high above my head and brought it down with a swift, decisive smack. 

Again and again, I repeated the process, alternating between her left and right bum cheeks, exploring a variety of implements and positions, until Summer's entire bottom was glowing a deep, rosy hue. Occasionally, she would let out a soft whimper or a muffled cry, but for the most part, she endured her spanking with stoic resolve. 

As the spanking drew to a close, I set aside the hairbrush and returned to stroking Summer's reddened cheeks, soothing away the lingering pain with gentle caresses. She lay limp and pliant across my lap, her body relaxed and her mind drifting in a haze of endorphins and emotional release. 

I leaned down to press a tender kiss to the nape of her neck, whispering words of praise and reassurance into her ear. "You did so well, my love," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. I helped Summer to her feet, steadying her as she regained her balance. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glistened with unshed tears as I pulled off her dress over her head. But, there was also a serene expression on her face, a look of peace and contentment that came from such a thorough spanking. 

Gently, I guided her towards the corner of the room, where two walls met in a monotonous juncture. "Kneel here, sweetheart, hands on your head," I instructed softly, pressing a hand against her shoulder to encourage her descent. Summer complied without hesitation, lowering herself to the floor and arranging her body in the prescribed position. 

Her panties remained pooled at her knees, and she dutifully perched her palms on top on her head, which naturally arched her back to, presenting her freshly spanked bottom to my view. 

"Thirty minutes, my love," I reminded her, my tone firm but kind. "Use this time to let it all wash away, and reset." Summer nodded, her nose rubbing against the convergence of the two walls. Leaving her to her contemplation, I retreated to the bed, to relieve myself of my restrictive clothing. The crackling of the fire provided a soothing backdrop, and I found my fingers drifting towards my delicate petals. 

As the minutes ticked by, the snicker-snack of my masturbation would have been driving Summer mental with frustration as I noted the subtle shifts in her posture and the occasional tremor that rippled through her body. 

"My darling," I whispered, my voice soft and commanding. "Your time is up, please remove all of your remaining clothing and put your Mary Janes back on." I took a moment to admire her in all her glory, drinking in the sight of her curvaceous form, the soft swell of her breasts, and the inviting dimples on her lower back. 

I crossed the room with a leather collar in my hand, a symbol of our transition into the next stage of our weekly ritual. I buckled it securely around her slender neck, its presence a tangible reminder of her submission to me. Lastly, I attached a leash to the D-ring at the front of the collar, giving it a gentle tug to underscore my coming command. 

"On your hands and knees, pet," I ordered, my tone brooking no argument. I led her on all fours towards the bed, where a ball gag lay waiting, its shiny red sphere and black leather straps promising further humiliation and restraint. 

"Open wide, huni," I commanded, my voice low and authoritative. Summer obeyed without hesitation, parting her red lips to accept the rubber sphere. I slipped it behind her teeth, feeling her jaw stretch to accommodate its size , and secured the straps behind her head, rendering her effectively mute. 

With the gag in place and a firm hold on her leash, I positioned myself behind her, admiring her red bum and the glistening folds of her pussy, perfectly presented for me. "Such a needy little slut," I teased, tugging on her leash to encourage her back to arch deeper. "So desperate to be filled and fucked, aren't you?" 

My hands found purchase on her hips, digging into the soft flesh as I pulled her back onto my dildo. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the quiet woods, punctuated by Summer's muffled moans amd the occasional slap of my palm against her reddened cheeks. 

"That it, my little fucktoy," I growled, my voice rough with exertion and desire. "Come for me. Come on Mommy's cock like the dirty slut you are." 

The name calling and degradation sent her over the edge instantly and she surrendered to the inevitable, her body convulsing in a series of intense, toe-curling spasms. I rode her through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure for as long as possible. 

Watching Summer recover, I grinned, envisioning myself in my other outfits I was sure to pack for her. Our week away promised hot, filthy sex, whips, bondage and the odd outfit change. 

Is this too much for a cabin in the woods? *giggle

One thing is for certain, with all this heat we'll be generating inside the cabin, we may need the odd cooling walk in the woods. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Fire & Ice

Pent-Up

Continued from: Why the Long Face?

[F/m] [sissy] [FLR] [chastity] [pegging] [spanking] [cornertime] [humiliation] [sissy husband]

When we left off with this cute couple, Vanessa was exerting her dominance over her sissy husband, allowing him a small moment of scent-association training after her return from work. The dampness of her hosed-feet, came to rest on Derek's mouth and nose, as she massaged and manipulated his caged cock through his panties.

His arousal and frustration level was nearly unbearable. 

Three days without her guiding hand had left him coiled tighter than a spring, emotions and desires building to a critical point. Vanessa recognized the signs - it was time for a therapeutic intervention. A gentle, soothing phrase escaped her lips as she beckoned Derek to head upstairs and position himself in the corner: "Off you go, my little one. let's take care of everything pent-up, shall we?" 

With a mixture of humility and hope, Derek clicked up the stairs in his Mary Janes, his movements tentative, like a child seeking comfort. He had come to learn within his unique dynamic, that being "pent-up" meant tears would flow from his eyes first, before the chastity tears would flow from his cage. 

As Vanessa ascended the stairs, the commanding click of her heels echoed through the quiet hallway, a solitary sound that seemed to amplify her dominance. Her gaze drifted upwards, fixing on the figure in the corner of their bedroom, awaiting his fate. 

Derek, clad in a patterned and delicate outfit of a little girl, stood with his hands on his head, elbows out. The air was heavy with contrition, as if the very atmosphere itself was infused with shame and humility. 

With practiced rituality, Derek had accessed the dreaded "spanking cart" from their walk-in closet. A simple yet elegant two-tier cart on wheels, containing straps, paddles, hairbrushes, a Lexan cane and plenty of tissues. He knew that before positioning himself in the corner, this needed to be displayed and presented for his wife's selection.

Vanessa positioned herself on the plush loveseat, exposing her hosed thighs in invitation. Once summoned from the corner, Derek turned in response, before mincing towards his wife.

Vanessa's slender fingers extended, helping him out of his dress and bra and sliding his panties down and off. With a pat of her lap, his body conformed to the familiar contours of her strict lap, in this time-honoured position. Her hand found its way to the small of his back with a little pressure, to pin him in place, as her sturdy palm began to soundly spank his bare bum cheeks. 

After a long warm-up over her knees, Derek was positioned on an end-table to be paddled. Vanessa sat comfortably nearby, allowing his anticipation to build and tears to rise to the surface. 

With a deep breath, Vanessa launched into the rhythmic motion, paddling his bare bum in a slow, measured cadence. At first, the impact was reasonable, but as the blows continued to fall, the sounds of pain and pent-up emotion began to mingle, culminating in deep sobbing from Derek. He was crying openly now, like a little girl. 

With Derek's emotional catharsis complete, Vanessa's focus shifted to the next stage of his therapy. From the beside drawer, she retrieved her trusty strap-on harness, the supple leather creaking as she buckled it securely around her hips. 

Next she selected a suitable condom, the crinkle of its wrapper piercing the silence as she tore it open with her teeth. With deliberate slowness, she rolled the latex sheath over Derek's chastity cage, creating a reservoir to capture any cum that might be coerced from his prostate. The unspoken promise hung in the air, Vanessa would milk him dry, relieving his pent-up desires while reinforcing her control over him. 

With a subtle adjustment, Vanessa aligned her body with Derek's vulnerable form, the tip of her strap-on poised at the entrance to his "sissy pussy". The initial penetration was followed by a series of shallow, teasing thrusts, each calculated to tantalize his prostate. 

As Vanessa's thrusts gained momentum, she began to slap his already brutalized ass cheeks, to coax him into vocalizing his feelings. "Tell me darling," she urged, her voice husky with encouragement, "do you enjoy being fucked like a girl?" 

A strangled affirmative escaped Derek's lips, his admission hanging in the room like a confession. "Y-yes, Ma'am...I I-like it..." The words dripped with shame and humiliation, a potent cocktail that fueled Vanessa's passion. 

"I love it when your cage slaps against my clit!" She purred out.

Her strokes grew more insistent, driving poor Derek further into the heart of his degradation, as she crafted another memorable chapter in their ongoing tale of this female-led-relationship. All that was pent-up, had been released. 

Welcome home, Vanessa! 

Derek...you better just stay on all fours, while she gets that condom off your cage and feeds you the contents. And don't forget to thank her for it. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Mad Men

The Perfect Lubricant

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He's so Screwed!

Continued from: Pinch Hitter

Despite his collar, Jeremy was fully naked, locked in a small metal cage in the dungeon space. He had tape over his mouth and his penis has been in a metal chastity cage for about ten weeks. It's safe inside this cage, but will his desperation for kink and the potential for an orgasm convince him otherwise? 

Outside of the cage, the sharks were circling. 

The resounding and commanding sounds of high heels on tile, echoed through the dank space, as Cassandra and Summer paced around the room like predators. 

I'm not sure about you Jeremy, but maybe it's best if you just stayed in the cage?

Cassandra however, can be extremely convincing when she begins to fuck with your mind. Offering horrible predicaments and forcing the submissive to choose their own peril.

"I'll let you out of that cage to play with us, Boy, but it's going to cost you a kick to the balls," Cassandra hissed. 

Summer fought to contain her laughter at this extreme turn of events. She turned away covering her mouth with her hand, as Jeremy nodded his head in the affirmative, choosing the ball-kick to earn his freedom. 

Ouch! 

He crumpled to the floor in a heap. Maybe don't let a professional dancer with dancer's legs, kick you in the balls?

Cassandra then made him kiss the shoe that just kicked him. 

"Don't thank ME you worthless piece of shit, I said thank my shoe!" She barked. "Kiss her and say, thank you Miss Loubie, for kicking me in the balls."

Jeremy complied with the dreadfully humiliating request, literally speaking to Cassie's shoe and kissing the area that had just ricocheted off his scrotum.

With his penis still in full retreat, the girls used that opportunity to get him out of his everyday chastity cage and into something a little more...snug. 

Have you seen those flat ones? The ones that just mash the penis into nothingness? Yikes! 

Once the girls had Jeremy locked away once again, Cassandra resumed her mental torment. 

"Isn't Mistress Summer beautiful, Slave Boy?" Cassandra floated out there. "Wouldn't you just love to fuck her?"

"I don't fuck boys who have little micro-dicks," Summer interjected, then asked him directly, "do you have a little micro-dick, young man?" 

Poor Jeremy just lowered his head and nodded, consumed by shame and embarrassment. 

Cassie didn't let up, and quickly produced a unique and brilliant solution, coupled with another dreadful predicament for Jeremy. 

(I've been seeing more and more of these online. I absolutely love the idea!) 

"Do you see this, you pathetic loser? It just screws into the tip of your cage. Much more appealing to Mistress Summer than your tiny dick," Cassie teased, waving the ultra-realistic dildo in Jeremy's face. 

"If you'd like me to screw this onto you, you can fuck Mistress Summer, would you like that, boy?" 

Jeremy sheepishly meeped-out a little, "yes, Miss Cassie," as his face burned with humiliation. 

To make matters worse, Cassandra cheerfully began to pretend it was a real penis. "Here, Mistress Summer, let me help. Let me fluff this big boy for you!"

Jeremy could only whimper and groan in frustration, as Cassandra performed a hand-job on his prosthetic member, followed by a blow-job. The tape was removed from his mouth momentarily. Cassie wanted to hear him beg! 

If his real dick was attempting to get hard in that little nub of a cage, I don't imagine that would have felt very nice. 

"Ohhh, Mistress...he's nice and hard for you, look!" Cassie purred toward Summer, winking at her in the process.

"Thank you Miss Cassie." Summer replied. "I can't wait to ride that raging cock."

Summer wasted no time in climbing up on the poor submissive, and lowered her wet pussy onto the stunt-cock. 

She bounced away, all while pestering Jeremy into making another predicament choice. 

"Do you want to fuck me doggystyle, loser? Do you want me to be a whore for you?" Summer offered. 

Before he could process a positive or negative head-nod, Summer then said, "if you fuck me like that, I'll be fucking you right back in the same way. Now what's it gonna be?"

It looks like Jeremy is going to be taking it up the bum from Summer, once he gets done with his fake dickering... 

Silly boy!

Let me know if you want me to continue the tale of poor Jeremy, and Summer fucking his bum? She's out for revenge!

Disclaimer: 

Please remember that when clients book with me they always have safewords. No one gets kicked in the balls, golden showered or subjected to small penis humiliation for instance, unless they have outright told me this is what they want. To each their own...different strokes for different folks. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Emasculation