Quality Control

Continued from: Minute Man

A Sarah Jane story

Hello everyone, it's sarah jane.

Just look at these socks! Ohhhh my word. I'd be in so much trouble with Daddy! I'm not sure who this young lady is but she probably has a very red bum! I know I would. (And by "young lady", of course I mean a full-grown adult woman, over the age of consent, which she clearly is, even though her attire does not suggest this). 

As many of you know, after Daddy and I shared a glorious moment of loving devotion followed by some filthy-hot sex, I moved in with him as his 24/7 submissive. His home is not a full-blown fetish and BDSM studio like Mistress Andrea has, but he does have some specialty rooms, designed specifically for my discipline and correction. 

If you remember from last time, there is a long hallway with multiple doors and a stark, lifeless stool facing a full-length mirror. These last few weeks, now under Daddy's roof and Daddy's rules, I have spent some time on the unforgiving rigidness of that stool, nursing a freshly spanked bottom. 

Why, you might ask? 

Two words...that I am getting to know painfully well...QUALITY CONTROL. 

I learned about quality control while under the care of Mistress Andrea at her Facility. Standing with my ankles together, walking on tiptoe when not in heels, or having to perform a curtsy when entering or leaving a room that my dominant was in. 

These were essentially my service standards while at The Facility. I was in-service always, as a submissive sex slave. Now, happily in the service of my Daddy, usually dressed like the above I might add, things are a little more...detailed, I guess I could call it. Daddy takes my service standards to the next level! I think he has a little bit of OCD.

Hehe. (Sorry Daddy, but you DO and it's true! *sticks tongue out*). Fuck, I'm gonna be sorry for that one! 

It was Daddy's attention to fine details that ultimately landed me in the hallway with these dreadful rooms. 

Such as:

If I present myself to Daddy with uneven socks, uneven knee socks or stockings, like the young lady above, I am given a spanking on the spot! 

"C'mon Sarah Jane, you're better than that!" Daddy will scold. 

"You know better than that!" And so on...

Then, regardless of where we are or who else is around, my bottom will be bare and I will be immediately over his knee. His heavy hand will take things well beyond the scope of a warm-up. You know that point when a man's strong hand starts to feel like a wooden paddle?

Daddy will then reach for an implement of opportunity. Wooden spoon or spatula if we're near or in the kitchen, a hairbrush from a bathroom, but he usually just takes off his belt, hauls me back across his knee and thrashes me good and hard. 

Between me kicking and flailing-off articles of clothing during these spankings and Daddy stripping pieces off me, I always end up fully nude. Then I get the dreaded, "go wait on the stool."

My hands cover my flaming bum cheeks and I find myself doing this little scamper/scurry run, usually while sobbing, as I make my way upstairs and onto the rigid stool to wait for my actual punishment. The one that fits the crime and the reason for these rooms. 

A run in my hosiery? Ohhh you better believe I'd be in for it!

Uneven knee socks, caught wearing flats, not walking on my toes when not in heels...White sock bottoms that are not looking so white anymore, dirty or dingy? The list goes on. 

You probably don't have to guess what will happen to me, after my spanking and now nervously waiting in the hallway for the corresponding specialty room. 

This particular room, for quality control violations relating to my feet, has only one bondage apparatus for the purpose of securing and displaying my soles for correction. 

This room really sucks. But, will my knee socks ever be uneven again? Would I present myself before Daddy with a run in my hose? Certainly not. His quality control is at least effective. I only have to touch the hot stove once. 

There is a small array of implements displayed in this room. Light riding crops, small flicker-whips and leather slappers. There are even tens-unit pads for my bare soles. Those REALLY fuckin' suck! 

What do you think of this next one? 

Visible tags left in place and not clipped from panties. Do you see it? 

I told you Daddy has OCD! 

He's not entirely wrong though. I am usually made to wear full sheer panties with my school uniforms and a lot of my pretty, pink sleepwear and lingerie is sheer or lace. I can see how an unsightly tag just screws up the whole aesthetic here.

See the tag in my panties? Daddy brought this to my attention and I ended up in this pose, so I could be shamed and humiliated by having to show all of you!

Then I was thrashed on-the-spot, right over Daddy's knee. His belt came next, always on the bare!

Once again I found myself on the "sobbing stool" as I like to call it now, up in the hallway, humiliated and naked with only my reflection and my thoughts to keep me occupied. But which room would I be headed to? This one could have gone either way. There is a room just for the correction of my pussy where I am secured and presented like this: 

And there is an entirely separate room for the whipping and correction of my little pucker. 

Both rooms are just like the feet-whipping room, with a single bondage apparatus to secure and present me for punishment. It's so embarrassing, to be bound and displayed this way!

Tags in panties, not having my princess parts shaved bald for Daddy...caught wearing improper panties or failing to give myself a good, soapy enema before Daddy fucks my bum, could all land me in either of these two rooms, or BOTH!! 

Again, each room has a collection of whips, straps and floggers of a size and weight suitable for my pussy and bum hole. Each room comes with the electro-pads as well, to shock my pussy lips, clit and anus as part of my correction. 

Lastly, there is a room dedicated to my breasts and nipples. I call this the "tit room". For the life of me I could not think of any manner of quality control relating to my tits. Maybe you readers can help? Like not being in a bra or something, when I'm suppose to be or not getting erect nipples when I should? I dunno...

Leave it to my loving Daddy though...he found something! Of course he did. 

These are a beautiful pair of nipple clamps with bells that Daddy got for me. As you can see they are the alligator style with the little tension wheel on the side, to reduce or increase the pinch. He likes to have me wear these when he fucks me doggystyle. My boobs dangle helplessly and the motion of Daddy pounding me in the ass or cunt, causes my tits to bounce and flop about; thus, causing me to jingle!

*hands over eyes* It's so dreadfully humiliating!

Every nipple is different. Some people clamp just the nipple while others want them to bite the areola and the nipple together. For that reason, Daddy lets me adjust the clamps myself and set the level of pinch. He tells me that he wants a decent grip but nothing excruciating. Just enough that they stay in place, like an ornamental decoration.

Well...

The other day, Daddy was fucking me from behind. I had my bells on and I was gagged. Everything was going fine until one of my nipple bells flew off and hit the floor, because I didn't have it clamped tightly enough. 

I thought nothing of it at the time. Daddy finished and came into my hot cunt, but then I got a very firm spanking, still gagged with jizz oozing out of me! 

I was shocked when I heard, "go wait on the stool." Then it dawned on me, my clamps! So, I was introduced to the final room I had not seen yet. My "tit room".

The setup was simple as usual, just one singular apparatus of bondage to present the area for correction. I was blindfolded and shock-pads were applied first. I think they were set to about a 7, then I was left alone to endure the correction. 

When Daddy finally returned, the pads were removed but my blindfold stayed on. He didn't want me seeing and flinching or anticipating the whipping that came next, all across my boobs and nipples. I was a very sorry young lady after about 25 per nipple with a riding crop. I now understood the importance of quality control at Daddy's house.

But if I know all these rules now and adhere to them...these rooms will be obsolete no? 

I wouldn't purposely do something just to end up back in the hallway...would I? 

Hmmm. Those stocking seams can be tricky...and it would drive Daddy bananas! Should I push my luck?

sarah jane xoxo

Continued in: Pinch Hitter

 

 

 

 

   

Cum Junkies

Continued from: Pet Play

A while ago, Russell and I collaborated on a post and a punishment actually, of his slave-girl, Sarah Jane. During that particular session, we were calling her a "Cum Brat". She was belt-spanked and given some other emotionally humiliating punishments, because she was taking her orgasms for granted and over-indulging.

The Cum Brat

Women have the biological gift of being able to masturbate and cum repeatedly, back-to-back, with no negative effects or post-orgasmic slump. If women were firearms, their classification would be semi-automatic. 

Sarah Jane is very much like this. When she has been given permission to cum, all that she wants to do is orgasm a second time, and a third and so on. I'm the same way, Summer is...come to think of it, we all are!

From another post, this is Miss Julie below, having at herself after being age regressed and spanked at the retro farmhouse. Did she cap it off at just one cummy? I highly doubt it. She probably went semi-auto on herself while looking at her red bottom in the mirror. 

Cousins Punished Together

As I was reflecting on female versus male climax, it got me thinking about Locktober, and how us dominant women are actually helping the silly men in our lives from becoming junkies. 

Let me ES'plain...

My sissy boys have all told me that prior to being locked in 24/7, enforced chastity, they masturbated on a fairly regular basis. They reported however, that the moment of climax was bittersweet for them, due to the massive, post-orgasmic slump. 

Apparently their cycle of addiction, over years, would go something like this: 

The sissy or male submissive would feel his arousal building, day-after-day, waiting for the moment when he can get his fix. Pants off in front of the computer might work for now, as the silly male begins consuming large amounts of porn, all while pumping jizz from his cock.

Once he gets his fix, he feels the need for a stronger "hit" next time. As a result, the type of porn begins to evolve into more hardcore scenes, more sissy porn and femdom, or any other kinky fetish he has been harbouring.  

He may need to use some accessories this time, just to get more of a thrill. The silly boy plugs his asshole and gags his mouth, all while watching hardcore dungeon bdsm. 

This leads to a powerful, shuddering orgasm for him. It feels great but it's short-lived. He slumps quickly into the post-orgasmic mode and no longer wants a gag in his mouth or a plug up his ass. Basically, all that happened here was a junkie getting his fix.

Fast forward months, even years of living this cycle and now our silly male has to masturbate like this: 

Nipples clamped, cross-dressed, anally plugged and sucking on a dildo is the only way this junkie is satisfied with taking a "hit" now.

He might self-spank, he might have an online Domme by this point, telling him to perform this way for her, spank himself and degrade himself. Maybe he films his moment of climax for his Mistress, showing her how well he can take a facial. He holds his mouth open like a slut, trying to catch the flying streams of cum and swallows it all down like a good sissy. 

Shortly after this fix, ALL of this masturbation infrastructure will be cleaned up and put away. His sissy attire and heels will be removed, plugs, wigs...all of it. His post-orgasmic self wants nothing to do with looking like, or acting like a sissy slut.

Until...

He needs another fix.

It is at this point, or at this stage of their cycle, where they usually seek out a more real experience. It is at this stage when the silly boys come to see me, and pay for my services. If I had to assign a title to this, an identity, it would be submissive male, with sissy tendencies and a craving for deeper feminization, up to and including bi-curiosity. 

Anyone who has followed this blog and these stories will know that my very first move in fixing the addicted junkie, is cold turkey. Tamper-proof, highly secure, inescapable chastity cages. It may seem cruel, but the subby male actually wants to break his vicious cycle, or so he thinks. 

Go ahead sweetie...watch all the porn you want. Even when I'm not there to supervise I know he cannot conventionally masturbate. His keys are safe with me. I then go ahead and mark 14-days in my calendar. 

Fourteen days is my personal mantra as it relates to chastity and male orgasm denial. I won't even begin to consider training him, until I'm certain he has not had a conventional orgasm in that time. And with the cock cages I use, it is quite literally impossible. 

When I eventually show up, he will be overflowing with sexual energy, desire and submission. Almost too eager to serve and please, becoming needy and overwhelming. That being said, I'll cool his jets a little, by roasting his sissy ass over my knee. 

What does a male do, after they have cum inside you, lights off, in vanilla missionary? That's right, they roll over and fall asleep. Or...if you were a booty call, they dress quickly, get their shit and get outta there. 

With the denial in place, all of his sexual energy is no longer blasted into his hand, it's all directed at me!

"Oh, you want to put your tongue into my asshole? For an hour you say? That's sweet of you my sissy boy. Mistress likes when you fuck her bum with your mouth."

"I know you want me to unlock you so you can cum, sweetness...but the minute you do you'll want to take off all your girly lingerie, isn't that right?"

"Here, let's try this instead. Get it nice and wet for 'Mommy'."

"It's ok if you gag and wretch like that, men like that..."

"Should we try to milk a little cum out of your clitty, you must be so pent up for Mommy?"

"No, not this time sweetie, the cage stays on, it's a different kind of milking. If you take my cock, we'll talk about unlocking you in a few days, how does that sound, princess?" 

"Good guuuuuuurl!" 

Discipline, Dominance and Denial are the three pillars of female dominance. Denial, in my opinion, being the most important of the three, if done correctly. 

And by the looks of the above, I think I'm doing it correctly...

Now as for Russell, who I coerced into a full celebration of Locktober, is now approaching 25 days in the cage. Defeated, desperate and ready for release. But he still has no idea who is holding the key the his chastity device.

The girls have not been shy in putting his pent-up sexual energy to good use and teasing him relentlessly. 

Apparently it's a thing nowadays, to be a really cute and sexy gamer-girl? Then film yourself video-gaming? I dunno...

Both Summer and Cassie are into it. I guess it helps with the "other" content they create. 

I guess some new game recently came out called Starfield, that the two of them are right into. I guess the game is so massively expansive that you can spend hours exploring 1000 different planets or something? (Too involved for me. Give me my Contra or Double-Dragon). 

I watched Cassandra play it for at least two hours the other day. She made Russell massage her asshole with his tongue the ENTIRE time! His face essentially became her gaming chair. 

And Summer, during her gaming breaks, would ask Russell to peel her little socks off with his teeth, then massage her bare feet with his lips. 

Either one of them could be his keyholder. Disobedience to any of their requests could result in the keyholder adding additional time to his Locktober. He had no choice but to adhere to their orders. 

As for me, also a possible keyholder from his perspective...

I made sure he understood what female supremacy means, by maintaining his discipline when the girls were done with him. 

He had plenty of time to reflect on his current state of denial and submission to us women, while standing in the corner in his tightie-whities. 

Then it was over my knee for a little maintenance...

Have I mentioned this before? I love Locktober! 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The Fourth Guest