Cousins Punished Together - A Farmhouse Story

Continued from: Don't make me come up there!

"Don't make me come up there!!" Usually means the purveyor of this threat is coming anyway! 

This was dreadfully evident for Julie and her naughty cousin Patrick, as the creak of the farmhouse staircase, echoed its eerie tune through the second floor. 

Julie and Patrick shared a knowing glance, no heel clicks, they thought to themselves. It must be Uncle Ed, or in Patrick's case...his "Daddy". 

They were in for it now!

Julie's tummy fluttered with butterflies and her heart beat in her chest with the pace of each firm smack from Ed's muscular hand. She thought to herself how humiliating and emasculating it must be for Patrick, a heterosexual adult male, to be spanked over the knee of an older, larger and stronger man. 

She wished she had been forced to watch, rather than sent to the corner. She was curious to see Patrick's little penis and berries, mushed against Ed's dress pants, likely caked with the remnants of dried cum. Patrick's cries for mercy and his pleads of "Daddy NOOO", made it clear to Julie that manually masturbating Patrick, right before his spanking, was probably inhumane on her part. 

Typically, she would find this amusing and likely curl her villainous lips into a smile, but she was frozen with the nervous anticipation that she would be next. 

When the deep smacking sounds finally stopped, the room was filled with the defeated sobs of Patrick, who was quickly ordered to take Julie's place in the corner. They passed one another during the exchange, both with lowered heads of vulnerability and embarrassment. 

Julie draped herself over her "Uncle's" knee and could feel her delicate, pastel dress swoosh upwards to expose her tender thighs. 

Her spanking was firm and thorough, the sound deadened by the absorption and protection that her panties provided. A style selected by Lorraine, to accompany Julie's "little girl" aesthetic. 

It wasn't long however, before these adorable little knickers were at her ankles and her Uncle's firm hand was connecting with her blushing, bare cheeks. 

Julie's emotions were conflicted with a dichotomy of embarrassment and pain, yet the comfort of knowing she was cared for and protected, even though it stung a little. 

When Julie was sufficiently warmed up, the two miscreants, both bowing their tear-streaked faces, were provided their underpants to put back on but nothing more. 

Under the duress of Ed's firm hand and over his knee, the two cousins had spilt the beans about everything that had transpired. Between sobs and pleas of mercy, the confessions flowed freely. 

"Daddy please no more! Julie made me put my tongue in her bum!" 

"Unckie Ed, I'm sorry! I caught Patrick playing with himself, then he called me a Dummy!" 

Two grown adults, reduced to squabbling children when it came time to be soundly spanked. The atmosphere was laced with shame and embarrassment. 

Ed firmly spoke, "follow me you two." Which signified their punishment was far from over. They were marched through the house in their skivvies, past the delicate womenfolk and the remaining "child", Claire, who had since recovered from her punishment and was seated in the living room. 

Next came the walk of shame out to the dreaded woodshed. Their heads on a swivel, scanning the horizon for nosey neighbours. 

The numbness of their undie-clad bottoms was just beginning to fade as a latent sting washed in. This meant that whatever was coming next, would hurt even more. 

Julie was up first this time, while Patrick was forced to nervously sit outside in his underpants, forced to listen to what awaited him in the woodshed. 

Julie was bent at the waist and fastened into the apparatus of discipline. Her bra was deliberately removed by her uncle so her "adolescent" little bobbies could dangle in the most humiliating of manner. 

Her panties were fully removed and hung on a hook inside the shed. The shamefully soaked gusset of the delicate cotton, swayed in the breeze that snuck through the partially open door. 

Ed provided her with a few firm smacks, softly explaining the reason she was being punished. Her gentle weeping was interrupted by the jingle of a belt buckle, followed by the snapping of supple leather through pant-loops. 

Patrick trembled from outside, listening to each of the strokes echo from within the woodshed, each snap was immediately followed by a yelp from poor Julie. 

He tried to keep count, but was too haunted by the commotion from within the shed. He knew it would soon be his turn and had lost count around the sixteen mark.  

The same as Julie experienced, Patrick's top and underpants were fully removed, creating a deeper sense of vulnerability as he was padlocked into the wooden stocks. 

Julie was directed to an opposing wall, to smush not only her erect nipples and little boobies against the wall, but also her nose. 

These two will definitely be sleeping on their tummies tonight!

They were both kept exposed and predominately naked, for the slow and gingerly walk back into the quiet sanctity of the home. 

Apart from Ed pointing to the corner and saying, "thirty minutes", nothing more was said. Lorraine was about to begin knitting on the couch, satisfied with what was presented before her. Claire played on the floor, her eyes occasionally leering toward the corner of the room. Ed returned to the "Dad" chair and resumed his newspaper, as an episode of Little House on the Prairie flickered from the TV. 

Order had been restored within the household. A strapped and naughty bare bottom in the corner was commonplace in this era, regardless of who was present to witness the dreadful humiliation. Julie and Patrick's shameful postures were a form of décor, complimenting the retro wallpaper. 

As the thirty minutes ticked to an end, the cousins were dismissed to the second floor with a stern warning from Lorraine. 

"Grounded to your rooms means grounded to your OWN rooms!" 

"Yes Ma'am," they replied in unison, before scurrying up the stairs. 

Julie's pussy was throbbing as intensely as her bare bottom was. She wasted no time in addressing this, as she surveyed the colour of her bum in the mirror. 

She wondered if Patrick was sobbing into his pillow, having been spanked and strapped by another man. 

It seems dear readers, that when you're a spanko...it is a gender-neutral affliction. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

The Farmhouse Series has paused for now. You can continue with a new series about a cuckold husband and his beautiful wife:

Vanessa is a Goddess!

 

  

 

A Return to the Woodshed Pt.2

Continued from: Return to the Woodshed Pt.1

Before we get back to Nancy I wanted to take a moment to speak about therapeutic, adult spanking. This is why Nancy is with me today, this is the type of session she wanted and has asked for in the past. I don't need to know why she needs this form of therapy, her head is already in the right place and she has summoned the strength and courage to follow through with something she feels she needs. 

Obviously her emotional "cup" is full, overflowing even, and I have the means and the expertise to empty her "cup". 

Nancy, who is in her late forties, favours the more "little" and vulnerable headspace when she is spanked. For this reason, I always have her dressed like a little girl before her session begins. The humiliation of this attire alone, gets her emotions right to the surface for me. 

Nancy also wants her disciplinarian to emulate a caring but strict "Daddy" role. When I saw her for the first time, ages ago, she was content with me playing a masculine role for her. I did not have an actual male at the Facility in that period of time. 

I suppose I have Russell now, who could spank her when needed. I'll have to ask her at the end of her session if she wants to explore this option. 

Next comes the context of her spanking. For reasons unknown to me and unknown to Cassandra who books Nancy and does her consultations, Nancy wants to hear: "go see Daddy young lady, he is very disappointed with you!" 

Once that a-bomb of a line is dropped, Nancy is usually bawling! Shuffling through the Facility to find me, her "Daddy", fully accepting that a spanking is coming and it's for her own good. 

If her ultimate goal of seeing me is just to have a good cry, I'm the little push that she needs to get her there. If she is harbouring pent-up guilt or shame about something, I provide her the outlet to process and answer for her past if that's what her therapy entails. 

The fact that she's bawling before she even goes over my lap, means 70% of my work is already done for me. The spanking itself, is just icing on the cake. 

During this particular session we started in the den. I was wearing jeans with a big wide belt, plaid shirt and boots. When I took her over my lap she was bubbling out snotty tears and saying, "I'm sorry Daddy!" 

Again...don't need to know why she's sorry or why she's saying that.

She's in her own headspace where she wants to be. When I lifted her dress and began to hand-spank her over her panties, this is what she wanted to communicate. It's what made sense to her in the moment. 

Marching her out to the woodshed came next, I think she processes this as an old-fashioned, Daddy move, something from a different time. The burly and hard-working farm-Dad, dragging his daughter by the bicep, out to the woodshed for a good switching or strapping. She forgot to seed the south field or something, and spent the afternoon under a shade-tree, daydreaming about the Thompson boy from her church. 

The "woodshed" itself and the threat of being taken to the woodshed must have had some more intense connotation back in the day. Like the discipline has to be administered out here, as it will be too severe to do in the house around Mother and your siblings? 

"Noooo Daddy, not in there!"  Nancy began to plea when I got her outside. Outside where others may see or hear?! 

I made her remove her dress while standing out in the open, before we entered the shed. I wanted her to have a few humiliating moments in just her bra and panties, standing in the spring breeze. 

I have been meaning to get a nice old sawhorse for the shed. Maybe a soft sheep-hide on the horizontal portion, for naughty adults like Nancy to drape their mid-section across. Then use some old tack leather to bind the wrists and ankles to the legs of the sawhorse. One day maybe...

I still utilize the wooden pillory in the shed, which is just as vulnerable as the sawhorse idea. The neck and wrists get secured in place before a padlock is added to the frame. The bottom is presented nicely and the feet and legs are embarrassingly free to kick and dance about, an especially common performance during a switching or caning. 

I deliberately left the shed door ajar and started with some nice hand-spanks on her upper thighs and her bottom. Nancy needed a little more warming up over her panties before I reached for the leather strap hanging from the wall. 

After developing some lovely layers of colour, I hiked her panties right down and off and reached for the strap. 

I left her bra on, but in hindsight I may rethink this in future. Based on some of the content I recently saw between Russ and Miss Julie and the position the pillory forces the body into, I could get a more humiliating gravity assist here. 

If I had removed Nancy's bra or at least pulled it up so her bare boobs dangle, when she is feet-dancing under the strap and struggling in the pillory, her breasts would bounce and flop about. A move like this could expand the embarrassment of her experience.

I gave her 26 lashes with the strap, making her count each out loud and say, "I'm sorry Daddy." 

Most of that was incoherent. There was a lot of tears and sniffling.

I positioned her in timeout and still left the door ajar. I told her I'd be back in thirty minutes and that she was not to move. 

When her time was up I went back outside and made the decision to march her into the house without her dress and panties. One final walk of shame with a bright red bum to show off to the neighbours. 

Aftercare with Nancy is always a great experience. She remains in her "little" headspace and doesn't want to change yet. She curls up on my lap and cries some more. She thanks me verbally, over and over again, while burying her face in my shoulder and squeezing me tightly.

This is a woman who knows a lot about herself, what she needs and when. I really enjoy having a client like her, who is so in-touch with her emotions. 

Her therapy sessions are 100% non-sexual in the moment. What she does when she gets home however, who knows. I've never asked...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Summer's Birthday

   

  

 

A Return to the Woodshed Pt.1

Continued from: Deepthroating "Daddy"

Well...back to the clients I guess. I better go see Cassandra. I think I have a 1:30 today. 

Russ and Sarah were off doing their thing somewhere. I thought I could hear her crying out from her room in the basement, "noooo! Daddy, not in my bum!" C’mon…Who's she kidding?

Summer was in the shoe closet with Vanessa doing...ahem...feet things. They just unveiled their new featured content with the two of them together for the first time. This was Summer's big suspenseful reveal during their promo video: 

And Vanessa's: 

These two shots culminated with that song, Way Down we Go, by Kaleo, playing in the background of the video. 

Way Down we Go 🎵

Their promo video was actually really hot. They even started out with a shot of the two of them in their Flight Attendant uniforms, power-strutting through a terminal. 

"Way down we go"...could have A LOT of different meanings too. If you catch my drift.   

Anyway, back to work, after I go tell Russ to gag Sarah already! Good lord she's loud when she's having her arse fucked. Suck it up down there sister! 

Russ actually never fucked my ass when we were together back in the day. Too beaucoup! 

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

Cassie confirmed I had a 1:30 today. I was quite shocked when I learned who it was. 

"Like original Nancy?" I asked Cassie inquisitively. 

"Yes, woodshed Nancy," Cassandra replied. 

"Is that type of therapy session she wants today?" I asked. 

"Yes Ma'am. She said she needed 'Daddy' to march her out to the woodshed. She actually sounded like she was on the brink when she was on the phone Ma'am." Cassandra went on to explain. 

Oh my. I hadn't seen Nancy for a punishment strapping in quite some time. She was the very first woman to request a woodshed session and actually wanted me to present as masculine, as her "Daddy" so to speak. 

Nancy, Nancy. She got a good leathering from "Daddy" on that particular day let me tell you!

She certainly knows what she needs and when she needs it though. She was always very honest with herself and very honest with me. She knows it's for her own good, even if it stings a little. 

I better go change. She's expecting to see "Daddy". 

I told Cassie to put her through the full check-in experience when she arrives, the change room, the nudity and shame, the butterflies of anticipation. 

"Cassie go grab Sarah Jane downstairs. See if Russ is done with her. Just set her up in the lobby as a prop, to enhance Nancy's experience." I told Cassandra.

"Good idea Ma'am." Cassandra replied. 

At exactly 1:25 with five minutes to spare. A very sheepish Nancy walked through the front door of the Facility to be greeted by Cassie, after walking past our strategically placed "prop". Well done Sarah Jane! 

Nancy was quickly directed toward the locker room and asked to return to the waiting area, bare naked. She knew the drill.  

She did as she was told and did so quickly. Cassie reported that she was a bit weepy and trembling from the butterflies when she emerged. 

"Mrs. Landgraab, you're sure you need to be here? You're sure you need to see 'Daddy'? Cassandra asked her, as she asks of most clients who appear emotional. 

That got the tears flowing. Nancy nodded her head in the affirmative and took a seat across from Sarah Jane, who had now perked her ears up like a deer when she heard the term 'Daddy'.  

Sarah probably assumed that meant HER Daddy, Russ. I think she turned crimson with jealously. She didn't know it was me, playing a masculine role of Nancy's father-figure. 

I told Cassandra to give Nancy 20 minutes of exposure time in the lobby, then to remove her restraints and gag and dress her like a little girl. There was an outfit pre-arranged in the locker room for Nancy and Mary Janes in her size. 

Once she was dressed and ready, I told Cassie to send her to the den to see Daddy and remind her that Daddy is very disappointed with her behaviour. 

Ooooo, that one will cut deep when she hears it. It most certainly did. I could hear Nancy sobbing from down the hall as she shuffled toward the den. She was hugging her mid-section with her own arms and had her head lowered to hide the snot she was trying to sniff back up her nose. 

I stood when she shuffled into the room, making a big show of my masculine role of "Daddy". I hastily fumbled for my belt buckle like I had to get my belt off urgently, before she bolts out of the room. I doubled it over and held it like a weapon. 

"You need a trip to the woodshed, don't you young lady?" I barked at her in a raspy voice. 

"Yes Dadddddddy! I'm sorry I disappointed you Daddy!!!" Nancy cried out. 

She dropped her face into her hands and absolutely bawled for the next five minutes!

When she regained her breath, I dragged her over my lap and declared it was time to begin. 

A nice, long warm-up before we do the walk of shame outside. 

To be continued. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Return to the Woodshed Pt.2

  

 

"Big-Girl" Room

Continued from: Beautiful Brainwashing Pt. 2

A Sarah Jane story

My first day of "big girl" school! Why was I so nervous?

Mistress Andrea and "Daddy" did a lovely job on my new room. It had a petulant teenager feel to it and rather than having to sleep in a frilly pink, princess bed, I now had a big-girl bed. Hopefully I'll be permitted to do big-girl "things" in it (*giggle*).

I requested of Mistress, that my room still have a lockable cell door. I still wanted to feel like I was at her BDSM Facility against my will. Forced to dress as my owners wish, forced to perform degrading sexual acts and punished when I do not. The consensual non-consent element of my time at the Facility was all part of my fetish and my fantasy.

They happily obliged and each evening I spent at the Facility and other times throughout the day when I was idle, I spent that time locked behind heavy, steel bars. 

Daddy "tucked me in" last night, before locking my cell. Since my recent age-progression promotion, my bedtime attire now allowed for cute satin slips, teddies and babydolls. I knew Daddy was coming down to do our bedtime ritual, so I picked out a cute little cami, I didn't wear any panties and I attached a collar around my neck that had the lettering "DADDY" on it. Super cute right?

As per the rules of our bedtime ritual, over I went. Over Daddy's knee for a loving and caring spanking before bed, followed by a quick dose of Daddy's belt. Daddy enters my room and without saying anything, sits on the edge of my bed. I immediately rush to his right side and drape myself across his lap. We do this every evening that I stay here. 

After I am sufficiently spanked and strapped, part of our ritual, one of my favourtie parts actually, involves Daddy's tongue on and in my little bum hole. He gives me special Daddy kisses on my little pucker while I masturbate for him. I love bedtime with Daddy! 

The next morning after I got myself ready and made-up, I thumbed through my new wardrobe with delight. Yes, the style of my attire was still schoolgirl, which is embarrassing for me to wear as a 40-year-old woman, but these new clothes were more grown-up. 

Knee socks had been replaced with dark tights and over the knee stockings and my patent Mary Janes had been replaced with three and four-inch heels. I felt sexy! I was really fucking aroused. I thought I should deal with myself before school. 

My previous bedroom came with colouring books, diaper cream and Legos to play with. My big-girl room came with toys too! I not only had a Hitachi, but also a great big dildo to play with. All the books provided in my room were BDSM erotica and soft-cover, spanking fiction written by an author named Julie Delmar. I even had a little photo board which shamefully displayed images of me performing various straight and lesbian sex acts. *BLUSH!!

Needless to say, the new room seemed to be encouraging...of self pleasure and arousal. 

Just as I was really getting down to business, using my body like a personal amusement park, Daddy walked into the basement and caught me. 

I think I went white. All of my face-flushing colour I caused from masturbating, drained away instantly. I thought I was in so much shit! I thought I would be sleeping on my tummy for a month.

Daddy told me to get up on the bed on my hands and knees. I obeyed immediately. 

When I heard the unmistakable jingle of his belt buckle, I just shut my eyes and gritted my teeth. I was fending off butterflies and waiting for that first lash of leather to sear across my bare ass and likely graze my puffy, pussy lips. 

The sharp crack of Daddy's belt never came. I stayed in position with my bare ass in the air. I dared not look back. I just remained in position with my lower back arched.  

The reason I wasn't being belt whipped, was that Daddy's belt was still in his pants...that were now on the floor, along with all of his other clothing.

He came up behind me, grabbed a handful of my hair and plunged his raging cock directly into my pussy. 

Daddy fucked me good and hard on my big-girl bed, right before school that morning! 

Is this what grown-up girls at the Facility get, at this stage?! No longer spanked for being naughty, they get fucked instead?!! Wtf?? 

I think I was starting to like this big-girl concept!

When Daddy pulled out I laid on my back and opened my mouth for him, displaying my eagerness, showing him that I was in-fact a big-girl now. 

He came into my mouth while he fucked my throat and I cleaned my own pussy flavours off his cock. 

Nothing was said about being caught with my Hitachi. Maybe this is what a "punishment" actually means now, for a big-girl. 

We tidied up quickly and I found my extremely short kilt to go with my outfit. Daddy took me by the hand and led me upstairs to find Mistress. I didn't want to be late for my first day of senior school.

Could you imagine?? 

"I'm sorry I'm late Mistress, Daddy caught me masturbating in my room so he fucked me and came into my mouth. That's why I'm running behind."

Could you imagine her face!! Gawd, I'd be in so much trouble!

Mistress is so pretty! Even when she's angry. 

Sarah Jane 

xoxo

Continued in: Senior School