Guilty Pleasures

Continued from: Save the last Dance

[F/f] [lezdom] [stripper] [BDSM] [kink]

As Cassandra continues her mesmerizing dance, her body moving with a fluid grace that defies description, I find myself growing increasingly aroused. The sight of her nearly nude form, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, is almost more than I can bear, and I feel my own desire rising to a fever pitch. 

Finally, unable to resist any longer, I crook my finger at her, beckoning her closer. Like a sleek, predatory cat, she crawls towards me on all fours, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. 

As she reaches me, she sits back on her haunches, her head bowed in a gesture of submission. "Please, Mistress," she whispers, her voice low and husky with need, "let me taste you." 

Unable to deny her request after being enchanted by her dancing, I part my thighs, granting her access to the molten heat that lies between them. With a moan of unadulterated lust, Cassie buries her face in my pussy, her tongue delving deep into my folds as she seeks out the sensitive bud of my clit. 

She quickly slipped me out of my dress, then bit my bare ass, causing me to yelp and react by slapping one of her tits. Cassandra simply smiled, all while sporting a bit of crazed look in her eyes.  

She hooked two of her fingers inside me and literally led me by my pussy, over to the other couch, where she pushed me down onto my back and continued to finger-blast me. 

Reaching up, I grasp her hair, tugging her head back until she is forced to meet my gaze. "Your turn," I growl, my voice thick with desire. Our interactions were beginning to look more like a fight, but I was loving every second of it, especially when she took hold of my throat once more and pinned me down on the couch cushion. 

She straddled my face between her thighs, lowering her dripping cunt onto my face. When she made contact with my lips, my tongue darted out to lap at her swollen clit. 

Together, we writhe and moan, taking turns flipping between offense and defense, hair being pulled, faces being playfully slapped, as the strip joint soundtrack continued to boom all around us.

As our passion builds to a crescendo, we shift positions, our legs intertwined as we scissor our pussies together, grinding and rubbing against each other in a desperate quest for release. 

Finally, after wrestling around some more in a haze of pure, unbridled ecstasy, we both cum at the same time, our bodies convulsing in a series of earth-shattering orgasms that seem to go on forever.

Exhausted and spent, I laid back as Cassie took top control once again, effortlessly launching my legs back and into the air to clean me with her mouth. 

As Cassandra and I lay entwined in each other's arms, our bodies still trembling with the aftershocks, I traced my palm over her smooth, perfect ass, the marks of her spanking having long since faded. I gave her a few motherly pats on the bum helped her to her feet. "I need to get you to the airport, sweetheart." 

Anthony Bourdain once compared unhealthy, good idea at the time, fast food, to a trashy street-walking hooker in ripped stockings and shitty heels. His theory being, that sometimes, you just want that! Haha, its classic Tony!

"It's 3AM, you're drunk and stoned, and you leave your apartment to hit up the Brooklyn-style, folded pizza slice joint down the street. You know it's a bad idea, but sometimes you just need to."  

That's what sex with Cassandra is like...

I was watching that show "The Taste", again last night. The food challenge was called guilty pleasures. Anthony took a bite of the eventual winner's dish and I watched him close his eyes and say: 

"Ohhh, take me home and treat me badly!" Haha! 

Haha! That...is Cassandra on a spoon. Unlike the photo above however, she bites back! 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: Enigma

Save the Last Dance

Continued from: Christmas Cards

[F/mfff] [F/f] [lezdom] [spanking] [BDSM] [kink] [lesbian] 

Watching Sarah and Mandy cuddled together on the couch, their bodies intertwined and their faces glowing with the aftermath of their heavy session downstairs, I couldn't help but marvel at the unique connection that had formed between them. 

Adorable little things, those two are. Kissing each other's lips and nuzzling noses as they giggled and whispered about the ferocity of their recent orgasms. Mandy eventually made her way home, back to her own family, with a very sore bottom to sit on during Christmas dinner. 

Christmas Day here, had been an absolute delight, with Summer and Sarah slipping effortlessly into their age-regressed personas, their innocence and charm enhanced by the darling Mary Jane Loubies they unwrapped in the morning. 

Seeing them clicking around in their festive attire, their eyes sparkling with childlike wonder and excitement, filled my heart and Russell's, with warmth and joy. The girls had become very comfortable with calling Russell and I, "Mommy" and "Daddy", with Summer slipping in the odd "Papa", in her thick accent. 

Up here in the North, we ended up getting a white Christmas, which seems to becoming more and more rare of late. News people said only three out of our last eight Christmas Days were white ones, which, twenty years ago, would have been unfathomable. Climate change is real, people! 

Of course, the highlight of the day was undoubtedly the feast I prepared for everyone - a traditional prime rib roast with Yorkshire pudding. Turkey was outlawed in my household years ago, due to its similarity to sawdust on the palate. 

The beef was much better. High heat sear on all sides to get a nice crust, then 200 degrees only, very low and slow, for 4-6 hours depending on the size of the roast. Pull it out when your internal is 137 if you want a perfect medium doneness, evenly from outside to the very middle. 

Once I was able to shed my apron, "Mommy" got herself into a velvet dress, just like the girls only a little more sensual and mature. 

As I descended the staircase and, the click of my heels echoing through the marble grand lobby, I was greeted by the sight of Russell, standing there in a suit, a glass of champagne held out in offering. His eyes widened with admiration, as he took in my appearance. "My Goddess," he breathed out, his voice thick with emotion, "you look absolutely radiant." 

Blushing at his heartfelt compliment, I step into his strong arms, allowing him to enfold me into a tender embrace. 

He tossed his jacket aside as I melted into his arms once more, swaying gently around the room with absolutely no music playing. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Summer and Sarah, their faces aglow with happiness as they watched Mommy and Daddy slow dance. 

As we swayed gently around the room together, lost in our own memories, I was transported back to a time when he and I were younger, carefree, our love burning bright and fierce like a raging inferno. 

As our impromptu dance came to a gentle conclusion, I found myself drawn irresistibly to Russell's face, my gaze fixed upon the single, crystalline tear that was trickling slowly down his cheek. With a tenderness born of our history together, I leaned in to capture the salty, briny tear, kissing him on the cheek in the process. 

The tears I'm afraid, did not stop there, as Boxing Day marked the tearful departure of Cassandra, back to the U.K. and back into the arms of her wife, Carley. After saying goodbye to Russell, to Sarah Jane and to a bawling Summer, Russell took the girls shopping, allowing some alone time for Cassie and I. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, Mistress? You've done so much for me!" A slow, wicked grin, spread across my face as I considered her question. 

"As a matter of fact, there is," I purred, my voice laced with seduction. "Come with me." Taking Cassie's hand in mine, I lead her up the sweeping staircase and down the hallway, towards the hidden entrance to the strip club that lies concealed within the depths of the Facility. 

Gentle music was playing in the background, as Cassandra turned and began to grind her ass into my midsection. I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Dance for me, Cassie. Just like you used to." 

She pushed me back onto the couch, her little frame pouncing on me like a jaguar locking eyes with its prey, before she drove her tongue into my mouth. "If I dance for you, Mistress" she gritted her teeth and put a hand around my throat, "can we fuck afterwards?"  

I smiled at her softly and gestured to the change room, despite being partially strangled at that moment, I was able to breathe out a, "you can change in there."

Cassie quickly slipped into a scandalously revealing outfit that left little to the imagination. Her body is a work of art, all sleek muscles and tantalizing curves with a skinny waist and juicy arse. 

I jumped when the music started, the first note ripping through my chest with a deep boom of bass. This was definitely a stripper song, carefully chosen by Cassandra. 

Winner till the day I die

She likely picked a song like this to reflect her current mood, brazen enough to put her hand onto her Mistress' throat! How dare she! 

Truth be told, I think I did this move on her once, when we were having sex, and directed her hand around my neck. She's never let me forget that *blush*.   

I found myself utterly captivated. Each thrust of her hips, each sensual roll of her shoulders, sent a jolt of electricity directly to my pussy, igniting a fire deep within my core. Lost in the hypnotic rhythm of her dace, I allowed myself to be swept away by the primal, animalistic energy that filled the room, surrendering to the dark, delicious pleasure that only Cassie can provide.

Turn that song up really loud, gaze upon the image below and just image our little Cassie, working that stripper pole as she slowly rids herself of her clothing. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Guilty Pleasures

 

 

 

Tara Gregory: Beginnings

Continued from: Judicial Authority

[M/ff] [family taboo] [step-dad] [DDLG] [Daddy] [little] [babygirl] [BDSM] [kink] [cuckquean] [spanking] [humiliation] [cornertime] [Lolita]

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

I remember the day I left for college like it was yesterday. The sun beat down on my face as I stood outside my childhood home, luggage in tow. I took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of freshly cut grass and flowers. This was it - I was finally leaving for college. 

My mother, Deborah, stood beside me, tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart," she whispered, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Just remember, no matter where you go or what you do, you'll always be my little girl." 

I smiled, blinking back my own tears. "Thanks, Mommy," I said softly. "I love you."

With one last look at the house that had been my home for nineteen years, I climbed into the car and waved goodbye. As we drove away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mixed with sadness. I was ready for a new adventure, but leaving everything I knew behind was scary. 

At the tender age of 19, I was still carrying some baby fat, which only added to my curves in all the right places. My long dark hair fell in waves around my shoulders, and my chestnut eyes sparkled with mischievous seduction. My closest friends thought I was gorgeous, but my looks were just a mask hiding the insecurities and pain I felt inside. 

My parents divorced when I was young. Growing up without a steady father figure had taken its toll on me, and I sought validation and attention from any source I could find. Being away from home and struggling with my Daddy issues only exacerbated my need for male attention. I found myself drawn to any man who would give me the time of day, regardless of whether they had ulterior motives or not.

I didn't have a firm Daddy figure at the ready, to stop me when I took on my first college-era job. He wasn't there to shake his head at my uniform and tell me he was disappointed in me. 

Working at Hooters seemed like a dream come true at first. I got to wear skimpy outfits and flirt with guys all night long, which fed into my need for attention. The money was good but soon enough, the novelty wore off, and I realized I was just another pretty face, objectified, serving food and drinks. 

I kept my job a secret from my mother and stepfather. I knew they wouldn't approve. They were traditional and conservative, and the thought of their little girl waitressing in a place like Hooters would surely horrify them. Before long, the money wasn't good enough anymore. 

One night in the break-room at the back of the restaurant, I walked in on some of the other girls whispering about how much money they were making at a place downtown. At first, I was shocked and appalled. I couldn't believe it. They were stripping! 

They must have sensed my interest because one of them turned to me and said, "You should totally try it, Tara. You're hot enough, and you clearly need the money." I blushed at the compliment, but shook my head. "No way," I said firmly. " That's not me."

As the weeks went by they persisted, telling me how easy it was and how much fun they had. Eventually, I gave in to the peer pressure and agreed to go with them one night, just to see what it was like. When we arrived at the club, I was immediately intimidated by the dancers. They were so confident and sexy, while I felt awkward and out of place. Part of me wanted to be just like them, to have men wrapped around my little finger, as they did. 

After a few more trips with the Hooters girls, moonlighting as strippers, and a little too much booze, they pressured me to go up...to go up and dance, while taking my clothes off to the cheers and whistles of men.

As I stepped onto the stage, my heart was pounding in my chest. The music started, and I began to dance tentatively, unsure of what to do at first, but it seemed to come naturally. The club provided me with the attention and adoration that I craved, even if it was superficial and fleeting. Every time a customer tipped me or told me how beautiful I was, I felt a rush of satisfaction and worthiness that I couldn't find elsewhere. 

Stripping quickly became a regular part of my life, consuming me entirely. The rush of adrenaline and the attention from men were addictive, leading me to drop out of college by age twenty and make increasingly poor decisions. 

I found myself spending all my free time at the strip club, neglecting my friends and family. The money was good but it came at a high cost. My relationships suffered and I began to feel isolated and alone. To cope with the stress and loneness, I turned to drugs and alcohol. This only aggravated my problems, as I became dependent on substances to get through each day. 

My life spiraled out of control and I hit rock bottom when I was arrested for possession of cocaine. It was then that I realized I needed help. The big city kicked my ass. I was defeated and I was ready to come home. 

Reaching out to my mom was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was ashamed of the person I had become and afraid of her disappointment. But I knew I couldn't keep going down the same destructive path anymore. I wanted to be that wholesome, innocent nineteen-year-old again. I needed to get the sparkle back in my eyes. 

I broke down in tears and told her everything - about dropping out of college, about stripping, and my drug and alcohol use. Through my sobs, I begged her to let me come home. I promised to get clean and turn my life around if she would give me this chance to prove it to her. 

She told me that she had moved in with Richard, he was my stepdad. He had a big estate in the countryside. After she divorced my real dad, it seems she went and got herself a sugar Daddy. During the same conversation, her voice trailed off a bit as she mentioned that Richard was very traditional and believed in strict discipline, she even used the term "Head of Household" a few times. 

Despite my reservations, I agreed to move in with them. I was desperate for a fresh start and hoped that being surrounded by people who cared about me would help me get my life back on track. Little did I know what awaited me...

Tara Gregory 💋

Continued in: The Sims are Brought to Life

Or jump right to the Tara Gregory storyline: Tara Gregory: The Early Days

Hall Pass

Continued from: House Warming

The party was going smashingly if I do say so myself. Cassandra's dancing was so beautiful and sexual, everyone literally stopped everything else they were doing, just to come over and watch her.

She'd do a three-song set up on the pole, then come down to mix some drinks and tease the guests and tantalize my fiancée, Summer. 

Summer however, had started to take a liking to Nancy, which doesn't surprise me. Summer gravitates toward more mature women and caring Mommy-figures. Nancy is older than I am, so again, I wasn't surprised to see Summer flirting with her and sitting on her lap occasionally. 

During Nancy's Sunday school session, Summer got to see her dressed up like a schoolgirl and spanked on the bare bum. This could also have something to do with the way Summer was now lusting for her. 

After a bit more champagne and some looser inhibitions, Summer sweetly took my hand and whispered to me, asking me if it was ok to have sex with Nancy. 

"Of course Babygirl, hall pass remember, but I think Nancy is straight." I replied to her. 

"So's spaghetti, until it gets wet", she blurted out. 

I think she totally just stole my line. I think I've used that exact line before. I laughed, then gave her a judgey-face. 

"Thank you Mistress, you're the best", she said as she kissed me on the cheek and skipped off to find Nancy. 

Summer doesn't fool around when she wants something. I heard her from across the room, walk right up to Nancy and say, 

"Excuse me Nancy, would it be ok if I went down on you?" 

I saw Nancy smile and nod her head. Summer took her by the hand and led her over to the VIP couch. 

Just then, Tiffany clicked back into the room in his high heels. I guess Kaylee drew the short straw on this one. The next time Cole goes for a pee, he can get his dick sucked if he wants. 

Gawd, how humiliating is this?? But such a good gurl!

Kaylee would have knelt down and flipped the light switch to his left. Now he has to just wait, for a little treat to pop through that hole. 

It wasn't lost on Cole, as he was washing his hands, that the red light above him was on.  

What's the harm? He thought to himself. Katrina unlocked Cole's penis before this party, just for a moment like this. I guess he had a hall pass tonight too.  

Speaking of which, Summer had Nancy peeled out of a few layers and was just goin' to town on her. 

Down the hall in the urinals, Cole took the plunge and guided his dick through the glory hole, which Kaylee reluctantly took deeply into his mouth. 

According to what Kaylee told me the next morning over coffee, Cole must have been a little pent-up from the chastity device. I guess the load of ejaculate that Kaylee had to swallow was enormous. 

Nancy had cum once already too. I knew this because I was in the same room watching my little Summer in action. I think she was going in for seconds. 

Summer would lick and kiss her pussy for a bit, then crawl up on Nancy's lap to straddle her and kiss her mouth, transferring her pussy flavour onto her lips. Then she'd once again kneel, and get back to work on her hot, puffy, clit. 

I can't speak for the two sissies, but everyone else seemed to be having a great time! Haha...

As the party was wrapping up, Cassie and Summer had enough booze in them that they fucked-off somewhere. I can only imagine what they're getting into.

I treated the remaining guests and one sissy, to some lovely piano. Mahler. Piano quartet in A minor. Although I was missing three pieces to the quartet. 

It still sounded lovely nevertheless. 

Cole was ordering up an Uber on his phone, and from what I heard later, made another trip to the gloryhole before he left. Poor Kaylee.

Competing with the sound of my piano playing, was my future matrimonial bed, thumping against the wall from the other room!

Aren't hall passes fun? 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The Maid of Honour