The Night We Met

Continued from: So I may be forgiven

A Sarah Jane story

Robotically, I sank to my knees on the dirt floor of the shed. My hands went to his belt that so recently was used to strap my bare bum. I unzipped his fly and reached inside, freeing his hardening cock. Leaning forward, I ran my tongue along the underside of his shaft, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat. 

I took him deep into my mouth, humming softly and licking, using every trick I knew to bring him pleasure. Before long, hot, salty cum flooded my mouth and I swallowed obediently, not wanting to lose a single drop. 

"Thank you for your cum, Daddy." I whispered reverently. Leaning forward, I placed a soft, worshipful kiss on the tip of his penis, completing my post-spanking ritual. 

Raising from my knelt position, I heard a car door slam shut. "Oh my god, the girls are home!" I squealed to Daddy. 

Mistress Andrea: 

(Sporting a cute little tam that I picked up in London)

I pulled up to the house in our car, Summer sitting quietly beside me. As we parked and got out, I spotted Russell and Sarah Jane emerging from the woodshed. One look at Sarah's tear-streaked face and slightly stiff gait told me exactly what they'd been up to. I smirked to myself, knowing that she must have been a naughty girl, to earn a trip out there. 

Before I could say anything, Sarah caught sight of us and let out and ear-piercing squeal of delight. She broke away from Russell's hand and came running towards us. Summer braced herself as Sarah launched herself into her arms, giggling and covering her face in kisses. 

We all made it inside where the girls' joyful reunion continued. 

Their playful affection was a stark contrast to the heavy emotions weighing on my heart. As Sarah continued to shower Summer with kissed and affectionate babble, I turned my gaze to Russell. 

Our eyes met and I felt a lump in my throat. Seeing his handsome, familiar face brought all the emotions of the past few days rushing to the surface. Without a word, he opened his arms to me and I stumbled forward into his embrace, burying my face against his chest. 

"Where's Cassie?" Russell asked, his voice rumbling through his chest. At the mere mention of her name, I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes. I shook my head against him, momentarily unable to speak past the sob rising in my throat. 

"She's gone, Russ," I managed to choke out. "Cassandra chose to stay behind in London, with her new wife."

"They got married in the woods, surrounded by nature. It was so pure and full of love." I pulled back to look at him, seeing my own sadness reflecting in his eyes, as a lone tear rolled down his cheek.  

"She's gone..." I whispered again. 

I wiped away my tears, taking a deep breath to compose myself. Suddenly, Summer's playful voice cut through the heavy atmosphere. "So, Sarah, what were you doing out in the woodshed with Daddy? Did you get yourself into trouble?" She poked at Sarah's ribs, making the pair of them squirm and giggle. Leave it to Summer to lighten the mood in the room. 

"I might have been a bad girl earlier," she admitted sheepishly. "But Daddy took care of it." She rubbed at her bottom, causing Summer to laugh outright. 

As Summer went up to shower, I settled onto the plush couch in the living room, tucking my hosed feet beneath me as Sarah plopped down on her knees in front of me. I thanked her for house-sitting and blushed a little in saying, "and thank you for...you know, the Mandy thing." Sarah knelt and kissed both of my feet to welcome me home, before her eyes widened. 

"Oh my god, Mistress, you won't believe what Daddy made us do," she gushed. "He forced me to lick Mandy's asshole, then we had to fuck each other while he whipped us!" 

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? And how did that make you feel, sweetheart?" 

"Ashamed, Ma'am...ashamed that I loved every minute of it! Thank you for allowing us to use your space, Mistress." 

I smiled and stroked her hair, but before I had a chance to respond, she leaned in to speak again.

"There's something else, Mistress," Sarah said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's Daddy. He's been acting a bit aloof lately. Going through the motions but not really into it, you know? Even the spanking I earned today...it wasn't as intense as usual and I totally deserved intense. It was like his head wasn't in it." 

I listened intently as Sarah poured out her concerns, remembering Russell's struggles with the more extreme aspects of BDSM. "You know Russ has a hard time with the heavier stuff," I reminded Sarah gently. "He's got such a soft spot for women, it's difficult for him to fully embrace that 'Master' role sometimes." 

I leaned back against the couch cushions, considering Sarah's words. "You know, I wonder if part of the problem is that he misses submission," I mused. "When he was my submissive, there was never any question about his passion or enthusiasm." I smiled, remembering those heady days of having Russell completely under my stiletto. 

Sarah's gaze hardened with jealousy, but she quickly snapped out of it at my next comment. "Have you ever thought about asking him to switch roles with you? To let you take charge for awhile?"

"Oh, I don't know, Ma'am," she stammered. "I couldn't possibly bring that up, I'd be punished." 

"I suppose you're right," I remarked, while ushering her head into my lap and stroking her hair. I quickly changed the subject. "Tell me more about your time with Mandy, sweetheart." 

While Sarah regaled me with the raunchy details of her weekend in the sex dungeon, I strained my ears, trying to catch the faint lyrics drifting from Russell's phone as he just slow sipped a whiskey at the bar. 

♫ I have been searching...for...a trail to follow...again...

   Take me back....to...the night we met...

♫ I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you...take me back...to...the night we met

♫ I don't know what I'm suppose to do, haunted by the ghost of you

    Oh, take me back...to...the night...we met...

It was a sad tambour, underscored by the twang of an acoustic guitar. Was he reminiscing about our early days together? Is that how Russell felt? Like he had lost a piece of himself...a dominant, struggling with submissive desires?

I snuck out my phone and tapped the Shazam button...it was, in fact, a really sweet and haunting song that was catching me right in the feels too. I wasn't sure what advice to give Sarah. Eventually we just joined him at the bar and we were welcomed with a smile. 

"Tell me all about the wedding, Ma'am," he cheerfully tried to hide his inner turmoil, "it sounded lovely."  

The track in question here is by Lord Huron: The Night we Met

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo

Continued in: What do you say?

 

So I may be Forgiven

Continued from: My Little Ponies

A Sarah Jane story

Even though I knew I was in deep shit and would be feeling Daddy's belt across my ass tomorrow, he didn't dwell on my transgression. That's just the way things worked between us. I'd face the consequences for my actions, but then all would be forgiven. 

For the rest of the evening, things went on as usual. After Mandy left, Daddy and I settled in on the couch to watch some movies together, still essentially house-sitting at Mistress Andrea's Facility. 

I cuddled up against him, trying to soak up his warmth and affection while I still could. Even though he wasn't brining up my impending punishment, I couldn't stop thinking about it. My stomach was in knots imagining the thrashing I was going to get. 

Partway through the second movie, Daddy shifted and I felt his hand come to rest on the top of my head. Without a word, he applied gentle pressure, guiding my face down towards his lap. Obediently, I slid off the couch and positioned myself between his knees. 

I focused all my energy on pleasuring Daddy, trying to take my mind off the punishment looming over me. I sucked and bobbed with enthusiasm, taking him deep into my throat. 

Before long, I felt Daddy's cock swelling and pulsing between my lips. With a grunt, he gripped my pigtails and held my head down, forcing his length into my throat as he came hard. I swallowed every drop obediently, continuing to gently suckle him clean as he softened in my mouth. 

"Good girl", he praised, patting my head. "Now come back up here and finish watching this movie with me." I crawled back up on the couch and snuggled against his lap, but my mind was still racing, unable to forget the painful reckoning I'd be facing tomorrow. 

The next morning I woke up early and got ready to face my spanking. In the shower, I scrubbed myself thoroughly, wanting to be fresh and clean for Daddy. After drying off, I pulled my hair up into a high, tight ponytail to keep it out of the way. 

Next, I selected my outfit carefully. I stepped into a pair of big, plain white cotton panties - the kind that covered everything and made me feel anything but sexy. Over those, I pulled on a sweater dress that would allow Daddy easy access to my bum. I finished the look with high heels, before taking a deep breath and headed downstairs to face my fate. 

"Daddy, I'm ready for my punishment." I said softly, my voice wavering slightly. "I was rude and disrespectful to our guest yesterday and I spoke out of turn to you in front of her. I'm truly sorry for my behaviour. Please spank me severely, Daddy, so I may be forgiven."

A few tears slipped down my cheeks as I awaited his response, my body slightly trembling in anticipation. 

Daddy regarded me silently for a long moment, his expression stern. Finally, he stood up and took me firmly by the upper arm and began leading me out of the house. My stomach dropped as I realized where we were headed - the woodshed. The woodshed, no matter who's home it happens to be at, was where Daddy will take me for only the most serious infractions, the ones that required only the harshest of punishments.  

As we approached the small outbuilding, I started shaking harder, my breath coming faster. Daddy opened the door and guided me inside the unfinished space, appearing as though it was under construction. 

"Stand there," Daddy commanded, pointing to a spot on the unfinished wall. 

"Face the wall and think about what you did and why you're here. You've got 15 minutes." He released my arm and I hurried to obey. 

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as I contemplated the severe whipping I knew was coming. My bum clenched involuntarily beneath my short dress, already anticipating the fiery sting of Daddy's belt.

When the 15 minutes were finally up, I heard Daddy's heavy footsteps approaching behind me. "Strip," he ordered. "Leave the heels on." With fumbling, shaking fingers, I peeled off my dress and frumpy underwear, letting them pool on the dirty floor. Goosebumps rose on my naked flesh in the cool air. 

Once I was fully naked, save for my heels, Daddy gripped my arm again and marched me out the door of the shed. I gasped as I realized he was taking me outside, where anyone might see my shameful punishment. He dragged me over to an old wooden ladder leaning against the back wall of the shed. 

Roughly, he bound my wrists and ankles to the rungs with coarse ropes, stretching me out tightly. Satisfied that I was secured well enough, he walked over to the large weeping willow tree a few yards away. He selected a long, slender branch and stripped it of its leaves, fashioning a wicked-looking switch. He swished it through the air as he approached my vulnerable form. 

I braced myself as Daddy took his position behind me, switch it hand. Closing my eyes, I tried to steel myself for the searing agony I knew was coming. But to my shock, after only a dozen sharp, stinging lashes across my bare bum, he tossed the switch aside. 

I barely had time to process this before I heard the ominous sound of his belt being removed from his pants. The thick leather cracked against my already smarting cheeks, painting lines of fire across my skin. But again, he stopped after just a dozen strokes. 

As Daddy untied me from the ladder, I was confused and almost...disappointed? Is that possible, what's wrong with me? I had been mentally preparing myself for an absolutely brutal thrashing, the kind that would leave me sore and sorry for days afterwards. But this punishment felt almost anticlimactic in comparison. My bum was certainly red and stinging, but it was nothing compared to what I had been anticipating. 

I rubbed my wrists as Daddy led me back inside the shed, handing me my dress to put back on. Perhaps this was just the first part of my punishment, with more to follow later? I didn't dare ask, simply followed him meekly back to the timeout spot, my head bowed in continued submission. 

Another 15 minutes of corner time? That was nothing. 

I should be standing here for at least an hour, my bare bottom on display, reflecting on my transgression until my legs ached and my back cramped. 

And the spanking itself...a few measly lashes with a switch and Daddy's belt? I'd gotten far worse for much lesser offences. My bottom should be crisscrossed with angry welts, bruised and tender to the touch for days afterwards. Instead, the sting was already fading, leaving only a mild warmth behind. It was if Daddy went easy on me, and I couldn't understand why. 

As my 15 minutes must have been drawing to a close, I heard Daddy's footsteps returning. He came up behind me and wrapped his strong arms around me, pulling me back against his chest. I melted into his embrace, feeling the solid warmth of his body through his shirt. 

"It's ok, babygirl," Daddy murmured. "You took your punishment well. I know it wasn't what you were expecting, but sometimes mercy can be just as powerful as severity." He turned me gently in his arms so that I was facing him, looking up into his kind, understanding eyes. "Do you accept my forgiveness, little one?"

I nodded, blinking back tears. "Yes, Daddy. Thank you for punishing me and forgiving me. I don't deserve your mercy, but I'm grateful for it." I buried my face against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. 

As Daddy held me close, I tilted my head up to look at him, batting my eyelashes like a cutie-pie. "Daddy, may I thank you properly for my punishment?" I purred, dipping down to my knees onto the floor of the woodshed, never breaking eye contact with Daddy. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: The Night We Met

Country Roads, Take me Home

Continued from: Tara Gregory: Revelations

It would seem that naughty little tart, Tara Gregory, has been completely stealing my thunder with her step-Daddy stories and using A.I. to eclipse my original works. 

Well, let me get my eclipse glasses on here, sweetheart. Two can play at this game! 

*****

The phone on my desk buzzes, interrupting my morning yoga. I take a deep exhale before answering, my voice cool and collected, ready to address whatever request the day brings.

"Good morning, this is Mistress Andrea speaking." On the line, I hear the familiar voice of Cassandra, my ever-efficient receptionist. "Nancy called, Ma'am. She has requested an appointment for the woodshed, the usual story with her, right, a good whuppin from "Daddy"...shall I confirm?"

With a satisfied smile, I nod, already envisioning the scene. "Yes, Cassie, please schedule her in for tomorrow afternoon. And remind her to bring the necessary outfit. 

As I hang up the phone, I rise from my pose and walk over to the window, gazing down at the ominous woodshed in the back garden. The sunlight filters through the trees, casting dappled patterns across the mossy ground. Tomorrow, my beloved client, Nancy, will be marched out to the shed in shame, dressed in her demure, county-girl attire. A simple gingham dress and socks with sandals, to truly tap into her age regression desires. As usual, I'll be playing the role of her farm-hardened "Daddy". 

The next day, the appointment hour arrives. Dressed in her usual Sims outfit, Nancy strides sheepishly towards the steps of my home. 

I hadn't changed into my role yet. I usually do a more therapeutic and professional consultation with her before we begin, to establish her needs and the reasons she is harbouring for wanting a trip to the strict and unforgiving woodshed. 

It had been a few months since I'd seen Nancy, so after greeting her warmly, we had some tea together and I took a little extra time to make her feel at ease, despite her inevitable fate.

When it was time, I pointed to the corner of the room. Nancy's face was stricken with embarrassment and was about to lift her skirt and lower her panties but I stopped her. Nancy is on the wrong side of 50, she has a successful career and adult children. Although naked cornertime and bare-bottomed cornertime has its time and place, sometimes it can be equally humiliating for an adult woman, to stand and face the walls fully dressed, in her adult attire.

I loosely kept an eye on her for the next 25 minutes, while I changed and got into character. Rather than "marching her" out to the shed as I usually do, this time I kindly asked her to change, do her hair properly and meet "Daddy" outside. 

This should be deliciously frightening for her, when she sees me waiting like this. And yes, I am wearing that belt for a reason! 

Pretty soon, I hear the sound of her little patent dress-sandals, crushing the pebble walk-way. Nancy walks nervously toward the woodshed, her sundress fluttering in the soft breeze, a vision of innocence and submission. 

I can't help but admire her determination to explore this side of herself. As she approaches, she lowers her eyes in respect, hands clasped tightly in front of her. 

"I'm here for my whuppin', Daddy." She sobs out, as tears pool into her eyes. 

"Nancy," I greet her sternly, taking her trembling hands in mine. "Please remove your dress right here, and place it on the straw bale, then in you go." 

Her palms instinctively clutched her bottom cheeks, clad in little cotton panties adorned with tiny pink flowers, the style a little girl would wear.

Stepping into the dimply lit woodshed, I took a moment to appreciate the ambiance. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and aged timber, lending an organic quality to the space. Cobwebs lace the corners of the ceiling, and shafts of golden light pierce the darkness through the gaps in the weathered planks. My heeled boots echo on the uneven floorboards as I lead Nancy inside. 

As I close the door behind us, the soft thud resonates in the silence, amplifying Nancy's apprehension. She looks around at the various implements hanging on the walls - straps, paddles, canes and whips - each with its unique purpose and effect. My gaze sweeps over her petite frame, noting how her braided pigtails contrast sharply with the harsh reality of her impending punishment. Her hands are clenched tightly, knuckles white, as she tried to suppress her anxiety. 

Her breath comes in short gasps as I guide her towards the sturdy oak pillory positioned in the centre of the shed. She hesitates for a fraction of a second, but then lowers her neck and wrists into the crescents, bending over and presenting her pristine bottom for correction. 

I close and secure the top portion of the pillory, applying a brass padlock to the hinged clasp. I move behind her, eyeing her exposed bottom appreciatively. Her round cheeks are milky white and unblemished, save for the goosebumps that have risen in anticipation. I run a hand along the arched expanse of her back, feeling her muscles tense beneath my touch. "You know why you're here, don't you, young lady?" My warm breath and frim touch sends shivers down her spine. 

Nodding and weeping, Nancy confirms her awareness of the awaiting punishment. I pat her gently, reassuringly. "Good girl. You know this is for your own good, honey." 

Reaching for my heavy leather belt, I jingle the buckle free and slide it slowly through the loops of my jeans, the sound seemingly amplified in the quiet woodshed. I double it over, testing its weight in my hand before resting it against her vulnerable backside, allowing her to feel its presence. 

With one final look at my target, I raise the belt high above my shoulder. Time seems to slow as it arcs through the air, landing with a resounding crack against the seat of her panties. Nancy's entire body jolts, a strangled cry escaping her lips - the symphony of discipline and surrender. I watch intently as the first welt rises, a stark line marring her perfect complexion, partially obstructed by the cotton veil of her panties which were offering modesty but little protection. 

I instructed Nancy to count each stroke of the belt aloud, teaching her the value of humility and obedience. With every impact, her cries grow louder, her apologies more fervent. 

Twenty lashes with her panties up and twenty lashes with her panties down. It was a thorough and exhaustive strapping for her. Her bottom is a sight to behold, a beautiful canvass of welts, red stripes and some bruising. 

Like an artist adding the final touches, I used my hand to try and blend out her colour and spread the welting more evenly. 

Once Nancy was released from the pillory, I took her outside the shed as-IS! I took her by the bicep as she used her free arm to wipe her tears and snot, before I led her silently down the pebble path and into the main house. 

I lead her to the designated corner of my living room - nose pressed to the wall and hands on her head. Her reddened bottom points toward the centre of the room, a visual testament to her submission and vulnerability. 

"One hour, young lady!" I declare sternly, listening to her whimper in response to my harsh sentence. 

I sat down and played on my phone after setting her timer, keeping a close watch on this adult woman in my living room corner. She remained motionless, save for the occasional hitching of her chest when she resumed her sobbing. I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at her absolute submission, knowing that I am providing her with the escape that she needs. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Tara Gregory: Anal Virginity

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!