Never a dull Moment

Continued from: Fire & Ice

In the dimly lit basement of Cassandra and Carley's Coventry townhouse, the air thick with the scent of leather and female arousal, a symphony of tortured moans and muffled screams filled the room. As a centerpiece, perched precariously atop a wicked wooden pony, was a naked young woman, her body trembling with agony as the weight of her petite frame pressed down upon the edged wood of the device. Her most sensitive areas - her delicate pussy and tender asshole - bore the brunt of her body weight. 

A bit gag had been forced between her teeth, rendering her cries for mercy into little more than pathetic, drooling whimpers, while electrodes attached to her stiffened nipples, delivered intermittent shocks. Tears streamed down her face, smearing her carefully applied makeup and leaving streaks of mascara trailing down her flushed cheeks. 

As the pitiful moans and choked cries of the woman on the pony faded into the background, becoming little more than white noise, Cassandra turned her attention to her next victim - a pale-skinned Irish lass with fiery red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose. The girl was bound to a whipping frame, wearing only stockings, her porcelain skin glowing like moonlight in the dimly lit dungeon.

"Now then, my pretty little bitch," Cassandra purred, circling the spread and bound woman, a riding crop twirling ominously in her hands. "I understand that you've been sent here by your husband? Is that true?" 

The girl nodded miserably, her lower lip quivering as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the muffled cries of the woman on the pony. "I've been arguing with my husband, talking back to him when he tries to discipline me. I know I've been bad, and I want to be better. Please, Mistress, help me learn my place." 

Cassandra smiled indulgently, reaching out to strokes the girl's bum cheeks which already bore some fiery welts. "Of course, my dear," she said, her voice laced with false sympathy. "That's why you're here isn't it? To learn the true meaning of obedience and submission. And I promise you, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect, docile little wife your husband deserves."

The girl yelped in pain, her body jerking against her restraints as a vivid red welt bloomed across her pale bottom. 

"Count them," Cassandra commanded, her voice hardening as she prepared to deliver another stroke. "And thank me for each one." 

As Cassie attended to her whipping, close-by, another scene of debauchery was unfolding. There, bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight, stood Carley - a striking vision of tattoos and piercings, her lean, slender body clad in nothing but stiletto boots and a harness of black straps that accentuated her every curve and contour. 

Around her waist, protruding obscenely from between her legs, was a massive strap-on dildo, its thick shaft glistening with male saliva as it bobbed menacingly in the air. Kneeling before her, was a man dressed in the trashy attire of a streetwalker - fishnet stockings, a leopard-print skirt, and a halter top with falsies. His lips were stretched around the tip of the cock, his cheeks hollowing with each desperate suck as Carley gripped his head with both hands, using his throat like a cheap fuckhole. 

Beside them, standing rigidly at attention and possibly impaled anally on some bondage apparatus, was a second man. A ball gag filled his mouth, reducing his protests to only grunts. Over his eyes, a blindfold rendered him completely helpless, unable to see the degrading spectacle that certainly awaited him. But even without the use of his senses, he was acutely aware of his displayed state and the humiliation he was being subjected to - for encasing his limp, useless cock, was a bright purple chastity cage. 

I knew there was never a dull moment at the Facility U.K. I knew I would be interrupting something insidious, but as Summer and I sat huddled together in the cozy cabin, our minds still reeling from the events of the day, I picked up the phone to call Cassie. 

"Hello, darling," I said, forcing a smile that I hoped would translate through the phone. "How are things across the pond?" But before Cassandra could respond, I heard a chorus of sounds in the background - muffled whimpers, pleas for mercy, and the unmistakable crack of a whip against flesh, it was clear she had a few "guests" over. 

"Oh, you know me, Ma'am," Cassandra replied breezily, her voice dripping with amusement. "Always keeping busy, always finding new ways to torment my lovely pets. But enough about me - tell me about your romantic little retreat, is my favourite little biotch, Summer, looking after you? She better be, that little tart." 

I hesitated, unsure of how to even begin explaining the horrific turn our trip had taken. But before I could muster the words, Summer took the phone from my hand, her own voice shaking with emotion as she spoke. 

"Cass, something terrible has happened," she said, as tears spilled down her cheeks. "There was a fire - Russ and Sarah's house burned down, and Russell...he's in the hospital. They won't let him breathe on his own yet, Cass. It's really bad." 

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a sharp intake of breath. "A fire?" Cassandra repeated, her hand reaching for the wall to steady her weakening knees. 

"Russell is in the hospital? Oh my god, I'm coming home. Right now. 

I'll be on the next flight out. 

Tell Andrea I'm coming home!" 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Lump in the Throat

The Facility U.K.

Continued from: Diapered & Denied

Disclaimer: 

Below is an excerpt from an email that Cassie sent me. 

Be warned everyone, Cassandra can be a bit...umm, blunt, at times, in the way she describes things and the language she uses. 

Please remember it is the fantasy and wish of the clients to be degraded, called names and abused. Even someone saying "stop" or "let me go", is all a part of their fantasy. That's why we use safewords, to actually stop things if they need to. 

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

Cassandra Goth

12.03.2024 - Coventry, Warwickshire, England

My dearest Andrea, 

The Facility UK is full of slaves today. Multiple men, a few women. We're going to break them, slowly. The men, they'll never feel the release from their cages. Those pathetic little cocks will stay locked forever, denied and desperate...unless, well, you know... 

The women, they'll fare no better. Treated like the worthless fucktoys they are, tortured and punished until they beg for mercy that will never come. 

They always want to be caned, Mistress, these Brits. Must be a British thing, to feel the sharp bite of a school cane across their asses. Their tears are delicious, salty and sweet, the perfect seasoning for their suffering.

(Whoa, lol. I must say, that was one hell of a line from the A.I. Cassandra! Seasoning for their suffering...*slow clap)

When you phoned me, Ma'am, I was with some "alpha" male idiot. Cocky, arrogant, thought he could handle anything until I started the gender bending, until I put him in lingerie, heels and began calling him a cock whore.

I had to whip him into submission first. He kept telling me he wasn't gay, that he didn't want the other slave's dick in his mouth. 

Pathetic lies.

I lashed his back until he screamed, until he begged for the alternative to the whip. "Please Mistress," he whimpered to me. "Please let me suck his cock." 

Then this posh little priss showed up, all prim and proper in her hound's-tooth suit and sensible shoes. She was essentially greeted by this view: 

I knew exactly what she needed. I bent her over a school desk, hiked up her skirt, and gave her a dozen hard strokes with the cane. 

By the time I was done, her porcelain cheeks were expertly stripped red and she was sniffling pathetically. "Thank you, Mistress," she whimpered, her accent even more pronounced than usual.

"May I please have another?" I smirked and obliged her, laying six more strokes across her tender flesh. She howled in pain, but I could see the arousal dripping from between her legs. A true painslut, Mistress. 

Carley joined me as I was finishing up with posh spice and her drippy puss. Some timid, shy looking dude. Carley had taken him and dressed him up like a schoolgirl. He was crying softly, his body shaking with fear and arousal. He too, wished to be caned on the bare. These Brits, Mistress, I dunno...*shrug.

The other woman, she was a tough nut to crack. A real ballbuster, used to being charge, but suddenly faced with us. 

We broke her down piece by piece. We stripped her naked, shackled her to the wall, and took turns flogging her tits and cunt. She cursed and sputtered around her gag, but we just laughed and whipped her harder. 

By the time we tried some forced orgasm work, she was a sobbing, broken mess, begging us to stop. 

"Please, Mistresses," she garbled out through her gag. "I'll do anything you want. Just please, I don't wanna cum anymore!" 

Carley grinned wickedly and pressed the tip of her riding crop against the woman's clit. "Anything, you say?" she purred. "Well, then. Get on your knees and eat my pussy!" 

The woman hesitated for a moment, her pride battling with her duress, but she eventually sank to her knees, pleading with Carley that she's not a lesbian. 

As if we'd fall for such pathetic lies, as she begged us to let her go. Carley just laughed and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face deeper into her crotch. 

"Shut up and keep liking, dyke," she growled. "We both know you love the taste of my pussy. Don't try to deny it." 

Of course, Mistress, everyone had a safeword. But none of these four seemed particularly interested in using it. They were too far gone, lost in the haze of pain and pleasure, of humiliation and degradation. So Carley and I just keep going, pushing them further and further into their own darkness. 

I promise I'll come home soon, Ma'am. If Carley ever releases her grip on me. She's my everything! 

Sissy Alice is doing ok, she just surpassed 100 days with her little clitty locked up and still, only a five minute, supervised release per week. We celebrated her centennial with a good pegging. 

*giggle

Safe sex always, Mistress, like you taught me. We used a condom...sort of.

She did however, fuck up the other day. Carley and I had to punish her. Remember that day in your kitchen, Ma'am, when you showed me what figging was? Right before you put the horrible thing up my ass and made me hold it there? Was that the night I was on shrooms and you caught me having a freak-out? 

Well, we tried it with poor Alice, after she was over my knee with her little girl panties at her ankles. I made her stand at the sink and prepare her own fig. 

Then it was 30 minutes in the corner, to think about her actions while the plug did it's work. Ohhh, it worked well! 

Give Summer my love. Tell Mom I'm ok...I'm safe, but I'm not ready to speak to her yet. 

I'm not ready to come home. 

Love always, 

Cassandra L. Goth

Continued in: "Come on, let's Colour"

My Little Ponies

Continued from: The Stuffie or the Whip?

A Sarah Jane story 

With trembling fingers, Mandy and I began to undress, peeling off our frilly socks, ruffled panties and pastel dresses until we stood naked before him, our bodies exposed and vulnerable. 

He reached into his pocket and withdrew two sets of cold, metal handcuffs. He tossed them carelessly on the floor by our feet, the harsh clatter a stark contrast to plush, soft surroundings of the nursery we had just rejected. 

"Put them on," he commanded, his tone seeming unimpressed. 

Mandy and I scrambled to obey, fumbling as we secured them around our wrists, the teeth clicking into the locks to seal our fate. Next, Daddy produced two sets of ankle shackles, the gleaming metal a perfect match to the handcuffs that now adorned our wrists. He tossed these at our feet, the longer chains jingling as they hit the floor. 

"Those too," he barked, watching intently as we hurried to comply. 

I knelt down, my movements hampered by the cuffs, and wrapped the cold steel around my ankles. The chain connecting them was just long enough to allow for a shuffling gait, a cruel reminder of our captivity. 

With a jerk of his head, Daddy indicated us out of the room and up to the door leading down to the basement dungeon. "Down you go," he growled, his voice laced with dark promise. Mandy and I exchanged a quick glance, equal parts fear and excitement warring in our expressions. We shuffled forward, the chains of our shackles clattering with each step, as we made our way towards the dark rooms.

Daddy followed close behind and with a final ominous click, he locked the door behind us. We were once again dungeon sex slaves, as per our mutual request. 

The room Daddy led us into was dimly lit, a flickering bulb casting eerie shadows across the stone walls. In the center of the space stood a weathered wooden platform, and atop it, the imposing figure of the wooden pony. Its sharp, angled spine promised both pleasure and pain in equal measure. 

In the far corner, a narrow vertical cage loomed, its bars barely wide enough to contain a human form. The message was clear - one of us would suffer upon the wooden pony, while the other would be forced to watch helplessly, anticipating their own turn. 

Daddy, approached Mandy first, who was kneeling submissively, looking ashamed. 

He ushered her over to the cage, helping her inside and locking the door with a resounding clang. Mandy gripped the bars, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and morbid curiosity as she watched Daddy turn his attention to me. I'm sure in that moment, Mandy was picturing what things would have been like if she chose the pink stuffie and what she might be doing that didn't involve being locked into a narrow, metal cage. 

Daddy guided me to the stage and the wooden pony that was on it, his grip firm on my upper arm as he helped me to straddle the cruel device. I rose up onto my highest tiptoes, my muscles straining as I tried to keep myself elevated above the sharp edge. Daddy took his time adjusting the height, ensuring that the vaulted spine of the pony rested just an inch away from my exposed cunt. 

He secured a ring gag in my mouth, effectively muffling any cries or pleas that might escape my throat. I began to drool from the gag as I struggled to maintain my balance atop the pony, my calves beginning to burn with the effort of staying on my tiptoes. 

I had chosen this path, rejecting the innocent pleasures of the nursery room for the darker delights of the dungeon. Instead of rocking on a horse upstairs, padded and protected by the comfort of a crinkly diaper, we had opted for the biting sting of the wooden pony downstairs. 

The cycle of the predicament continued, a never-ending dance of agony and ecstasy. Each time the pain in my calves grew too intense, I would lower myself onto the pony, gasping as the sharp edge dug into my clit. Up and down I went, trading one source of torment for another, my body glistening with sweat and my mind reeling from the intensity

After what felt like an eternity, Daddy finally called a halt to my torture. Twenty excruciating minutes had passed, each second stretching out into infinity as I battled the dual agonies of the predicament. 

With shaking limbs, Daddy removed me from my perch, my pussy throbbing and swollen from the relentless stimulation. 

He unlocked the slave cage and pulled Mandy out. I was ushered inside to take her place. Mandy was next to ride the wooden pony, as Daddy adjusted the height to ensure maximum tiptoe height. At probably the ten minute mark, her cries filled the room as she struggled to find her balance, her toes straining to keep her lifted above the cruel edge. 

As the minutes ticked by, the throbbing ache in my cunt began to subside, replaced by a growing hunger that demanded to be satisfied. I squirmed in the cage, my fingers slipping between my thighs to tease at my swollen folds, desperate for release. Just as I was on the verge of cumming, Daddy unlocked the cage door and hauled me out,.

I was bent over, my hands on my knees, my ass raised obscenely in the air. I heard the rustle of latex and the click of buckles as he prepared Mandy for her next task. When he finally revealed her to me, my breath caught in my throat. Encased in a sleek black straightjacket with her tits exposed, her arms were rendered useless. Her eyes were hidden behind a large blindfold, her mouth stuffed with a harness gag. Protruding from her mid-section was a giant strap-on cock. 

Without a word, Daddy pushed Mandy forward until the tip of the dildo brushed against my soaking wet pussy, Mandy could do nothing but obey, thrusting her hips forward in a humiliating parody of fucking. 

The massive dick stretched me wide as it sank into my cunt, filling me completely. Eventually Daddy got us down on the floor, and I was soon moaning around his erect penis as he began to fuck my face in a beautiful display of spit-roasting.

I couldn't hold out much longer, being treated like such a dirty whore had me right at the edge. My inner walls clamped down around the invading toy as wave after wave of orgasm crashed over me. I came hard, my screams of ecstasy muffled by Daddy unloading his own cum into the back of my throat. 

I was trussed-up in the same gimp-ish outfit Mandy was made to wear, and next thing I knew I was being forced to fuck her, while Daddy whipped my bare bum for encouragement. 

It was an intense session all-around. Mandy and I ended up bare naked and left in the basement dungeon, shackled by the wrists, to spend some time reflecting on our degradation. 

Eventually we were released and able to return to the upper floors of the Facility and shower and tidy up. Mandy and I found ourselves in cute matching panties and little baby-tees, for some much-needed snuggle time and aftercare with Daddy. 

My mind drifted to the boring suburban mom outfit that Mandy showed up in - yoga pants, t-shirt, hoodie. Such a contrast from the sexy latex and leather she'd been parading around in earlier. As we curled into Daddy and talked of all the depraved experiences of the last few days, he began to ask us how it went. 

"It was intense, Sir, thank you for your time and attention in Mistress' absence," Mandy replied. 

Daddy chuckled, "Well we aim to please here. Glad you could join us." He then turned to me. "And what about you, my pet? Enjoy putting on a show for me with your new friend?" I smiled up at him as he stroked my hair. 

"Always happy to entertain Daddy. Though I do hope I can have you all to myself next time..." 

Daddy's face darkened when I said that right in front of Mandy. He turned to her and said sternly, "Mandy would you please excuse us for a moment? I need to have a word with Sarah Jane in private." 

Mandy nodded nervously and scurried out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Daddy cupped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Rude!!" he scolded. "What the fuck was that, Sarah? How dare you disrespect our guest like that, making her feel unwelcome with your jealously!" His voice was low and dangerous. 

"You're going to regret that comment, tomorrow. It's your maintenance day as it is, young lady." 

With that, he released my chin and I ran out of the room bawling like a little child, quaking in fear over what I had coming. 

Sarah Jane 💟

P.S.

The ending of the story was not headed in this direction at all. The A.I. that was helping me to write this one, actually dropped that line out of the blue. Look: 

Thanks A.I. ! 

Tomorrow I'll be getting a belt whuppin' out in the woodshed, because of you!! 

*pout*

Continued in: So I may be forgiven

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

50 Lashes

Continued from: Dinner and a Dungeon

A Sarah Jane story

Again and again, the flogger fell, each strike carefully placed across my bare bum and back, pushing me further into that hazy space between pain and pleasure. I lost count after twenty, my mind reeling as the sensation was overwhelming me. By the fiftieth stroke, I was dancing on my toes, desperate to escape the relentless whipping, yet craving more. 

As Daddy released me from my chains, my legs buckled beneath me, my body still humming with the warm glow of the flogger. With surprising gentleness, he untied Mandy and I took her place in the corner of the room. I felt the rough fibers of rope as he bound wrists, forcing me into a position facing the wall, embarrassingly aware of my redness on full display. 

I couldn't help but envision the scene unfolding behind me. In my mind's eye, I saw him stringing her up in the same manner he had me, her elegant dress pooling at her feet as the shears sliced away her clothing. I envisioned him gently unbuckling the straps of her high heels, now being forced to stand on her toes for the duration of the whipping with the sudden removal of the four inch stilettos. 

Before long, the rhythmic sound of the flogger striking Mandy's bare flesh filled the room, each impact punctuated by a yelp from her lips. I pressed my forehead against the wall and counted in my mind, all fifty of the lashes she received. 

After the whipping had ended, I suddenly felt the weight of a chastity belt settle around my hips. The cool metal against my heated skin was a shock, a stark contrast to the warmth that still radiated from my freshly whipped bottom. Behind me, I heard Mandy's sharp intake of breath, followed by the clicking of padlocks. "What is this thing?" she asked, her voice sounding desperate. 

I was released by Daddy and turned to face her, taking in the sight of the stainless steel that was now encasing her pussy. The belt hugged her curves perfectly and was snug enough that I knew I wouldn't be able to get so much as a pinky finger in there. 

"But why?" Mandy pleaded out, her gaze scanning over my equally denied state. 

"Because," Daddy purred, stepping closer to her and running his fingers over the metal screening that housed her pussy, "it's bedtime..." 

As the heavy cell door clanged shut behind us, I took in our new surroundings with a mix of trepidation and excitement. The small space was dominated by the single bed, its thin mattress offering little comfort for the night ahead. Beside it, the stark white toilet stood out, a harsh reminder of our captivity. 

Mandy sat on the bed and pulled at her chastity belt out of sexual frustration, as the reality of our situation sank in. 

"You're wasting your time, Mandy, trust me," as I reached out my hand, offering what little comfort I could. "We'll get through this together," I whispered. 

We settled into the bed, our bodies spooning for warmth and assurance and I held her hand and kissed her neck. I was probably making things worse for her arousal level, as she began to grind her whipped ass into my midsection, trying to hump the stainless belt against her pussy. It was no use...

With gentle hands, I guided Mandy onto her tummy, her soft sighs filling the small cell as she settled onto the thin mattress. Leaning down, I began to plant little feather-light kisses on her back and bum, soothing the welted streaks of red. 

Her body relaxed under my touch, her breathing evening out as I worked away across her bare bum cheeks. As I felt her drift towards sleep, I shifted, pulling her into my arms. Our lips met in a soft, passionate kiss, a dance of tongues and shared breath. 

The chastity belts prevented us from exploring further, but there was a certain eroticism in the restraint, in the knowledge that our pleasure was entirely in Daddy's hands. As we finally broke apart, I pulled the blankets over our entwined forms, holding Mandy close as she slipped into slumber. Even as exhaustion tugged at my own consciousness, my mind was alive with possibilities of what tomorrow might bring, in the dark rooms. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Oily Hufone Heit