Don't make me come up there - A Farmhouse Story

Continued from: Sears Wish Book

"Please don't tell on me Julie, I'm begging you! I won't be able to sit for a week after Dad takes his belt to me!!" Patrick fell to his knees in front of his older cousin Julie, who was now, clearly amused by his vulnerable state. 

As previously detailed, Julie snuck out of the confines of her grounding and crept across the hallway to her young cousin's room, only to find him in the naughty act of self-pleasure. He was wanking his little penis to underwear models in a Sears Wish Book. 

Now, as his erection began to fade, he fell to his knees to beg Julie not to tattle on him. He was begging to do anything she asked of him. 

"You can start by answering some questions for me," Julie snipped. "Have you ever been a client here before? How long are we grounded and what happens after that?" 

Julie was still in a state of fearful panic, fear of the unknown, after witnessing the treatment of her "cousin" Claire at the hands of her role-play parents. She was given quite the belt whipping, then transported upstairs to have her bowels filled with a soapy enema. 

Julie needed some intel from the groveling Patrick! She needed to know if this would also be her fate, as she replayed the image of poor Claire, jackknifed over her Daddy's knee with her legs dangling. 

Julie felt a familiar tingle between her legs, as her tummy flooded with butterflies. 

“We'll be grounded for an hour or two, usually," Patrick stammered out, having been grounded to this bedroom before. 

"That's why I thought I had enough time for...you know...wh...what I was doing." 

"I'm sorry I interrupted you Patrick. Watching Claire get punished made you all hot and bothered too huh?" Julie spoke, with a maternal tone of caring in her voice. 

Patrick lowered his eyes and blushed, nodding his head in the affirmative. 

"So after our grounding, then what happens?" Julie continued her inquisition. 

"Then we get punished," Patrick shrugged as he spoke, sounding rather aloof. 

Julie's mind and heart raced at the thought, immersing herself fully in her environment and her attire. She imagined her youthful teen body with budding tits, being ogled by her male cousin as she is stripped and disciplined by her Auntie or Uncle.

She imagined the opposite, of how her male cousin would feel to have his little penis and testicles on full display to her, amidst a backdrop of tears, begging and the cracks of a hairbrush bouncing off bare buttocks. 

Julie tried to quell her butterflies, and squished her legs together to mitigate the ache in her panties. She turned her attention back to the kneeling Patrick who's penis was now limp and flaccid. 

"What's gonna happen if I tell your 'Mommy' what I caught you doing?" Julie purred, as the corners of her lips began to curl into an evil smile. 

"Please don't! I'll do anything you want! I'd get taken out to the woodshed for sure!" Patrick pleaded, trying his best to avoid a trip to the dreaded woodshed with "Daddy's" belt. 

"Anything huh?" Julie seductively hissed...

"No! Not there. My asshole I said." Julie barked at him, trying to keep her voice to a whisper to avoid detection.

She had convinced poor Patrick to lay on his back while she removed her dress and panties, all while straddling his face. As she went in for a squat and hover, Patrick's tongue instinctively darted out to greet her soaked pussy. Julie, however, had other plans for his tongue. 

"That's it, yes! As deep as you can go!" Julie encouraged, as she felt Patrick's tongue first lick, then penetrate her little pucker. 

In no time flat, with Patrick's tongue up her ass, Julie had fingered herself to a shuddering orgasm.

She offered to return the favour and bullied Patrick onto the bed. 

Free of a chastity cage since his arrival, witnessing and hearing spanking all around him and now this pretty stranger Julie, who just made him eat her ass out while she came, was stroking his cock. 

Patrick started to panic and whispered out as urgently as he could, "stop before I have a chance to finish ok?" 

"Nooo, no! Don't do it that fa...!"

Patrick clawed at the bed and clenched his teeth, trying to remain as quiet as he could, as rope after rope of hot cum splashed off Julie's chin and neck.

"What's wrong? You didn't want to cum?" Julie innocently asked. 

"Not right before a spanking!! Geez!" Patrick panted. 

"Oh gosh...how silly of me. Does that make the spanking feel worse?" Julie flipped her ponytail in a ditzy motion as she spoke, playing into the naïve and inexperienced teenager.

"Yes you dummy!" 

Julie's mischievous and playful expression completely melted from her face. She stood and didn't say a word. She returned her delicate and puffed dress over her little frame and with deliberate movements, headed straight for the door to the room. 

"No, don't do it!" Patrick cried out. "Don't do it!" 

She flung the door open and hung her head out into the hallway. 

"AUNNTIEEEEEEE....!"

"PATRICK JUST CALLED ME A DUMMYYYYYYY....!"

"AND GUESS WHAT ELSE HE WAS DOING?!"

Meanwhile, downstairs, Lorraine heard the commotion and tilted her iron on edge. It steamed and sputtered in the once quiet sanctity of the living room. She gave but a mere glance to Ed, without saying a word, it was an unspoken queue to engage. 

He looked up from his newspaper and bellowed through the ceiling and into the floorboards of the rooms above. 

"DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE!!"

To be continued. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Cousins Punished Together

  

 

 

 

 

A Moment of Reflection assisted by A.I.

Dear readers, this is a non-BDSM post, but a nice post nonetheless. 

A moment of silence or a moment of reflection? Not the kind you might be thinking. Not cornertime - which works for introspection, vulnerability and reflection too, but I wanted to touch on a more meaningful topic. 

This moment of reflection currently washing over me, has been partially caused by my newly found familiarity with A.I. chat and a book I recently read called Scary Smart - also about the subject of A.I. It was written by an Egyptian fellow who used to hold a high-level position at Google X. 

That book was terrifying yet tender toward the end, with an underpinning of trying to make the world a better place essentially. This made me think of someone who was also trying to make the world a better place, but through storytelling and exploration of cuisine and culture. I admired him as a storyteller. I loved all of his books and his rebellious, pirate-ship, punk-rock attitude toward sticking it to the "establishment". 

Who else could drop a line like this, in a period of time where everyone has a cause and everyone becomes offended by everything: 

Vegetarians, and their Hezbollah-like splinter faction, the vegans...are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit.

Haha! I'm gonna stay Switzerland on that one and not comment on whether I agree or disagree with that quote. 

I asked the A.I. what it thought of him:

He left a lasting impact by fostering understanding, empathy, and appreciation for diverse cultures while advocating for those whose stories often go untold. His legacy continues to inspire individuals to explore, connect, and celebrate the world's culinary and cultural tapestry. 

Bourdain encouraged people to step outside their culinary comfort zones and embrace the diversity and richness of global cuisine.

I am blessed to live in Canada, where I can and regularly put into practice the above statement. 

He believed that sharing a meal with someone from a different background could bridge gaps and foster connections. By showcasing local food scenes and engaging with people from various cultures, he highlighted the commonalities that unite us all. His approach challenged stereotypes, encouraged empathy, and celebrated the uniqueness of different communities.

Very nicely put "Chatty A.I."

Bourdain actively advocated for marginalized communities, including restaurant workers, immigrants, and indigenous people. He shed light on the challenges faced by these groups and championed their stories and contributions. Bourdain recognized the power dynamics within the culinary industry and used his platform to address issues like inequality, exploitation, and cultural appropriation. He was a vocal supporter of fair wages, better working conditions, and respect for culinary traditions.

These sorts of matters seem to be tip-of-tongue in the media these days. Good for Anthony for trying his hardest while he still walked this Earth. 

Bourdain inspired countless individuals to explore the world, try new foods, and embrace different cultures. His work encouraged people to step out of their comfort zones, venture beyond tourist hotspots, and engage with locals. Bourdain's emphasis on the transformative power of travel resonated with many, igniting a sense of curiosity, adventure, and open-mindedness.

I try to live my life by this one! 

Disneyland and a Whopper combo? No thank you. Put me on a damp, cobblestone street in New Orleans, trying a charbroiled oyster a local resident farmed that morning. 

I am a month late in recognizing the anniversary date of his tragic and unexpected passing. Although, I shouldn't use the term unexpected. If you have the pleasure of reading his books he was a tormented soul! The manner in which he died was prophesized in his books, whether he knew it or not. It makes me sad to read the passages above, regarding his life, then get smacked with the reality of how he chose to leave this place. 

"Hey 'chatty'. Can you please write me a poem about Anthony  Bourdain?" 

****

In realms of culinary adventure, he soared,

Anthony Bourdain, a spirit uncaged and untamed,

With curious eyes and a hunger to explore,

A maestro of flavors, his legacy proclaimed.

Through bustling streets and hidden food stalls,

He guided us on journeys both far and near,

His words, a symphony that enchanted all,

A maestro of storytelling, sincere and clear.

With wit and wisdom, he peeled back the veil,

Unveiling cultures through shared meals and delight,

In each episode, a vibrant, authentic tale,

A maestro of connection, bridging day and night.

From street-side delicacies to fine dining halls,

He celebrated chefs, their artistry and craft,

His presence, a reminder that humanity enthralls,

A maestro of empathy, leaving hearts daft.

Yet amidst the flavors, shadows lingered deep,

A tormented soul, bearing burdens unseen,

In his absence, tears and questions steep,

A maestro lost, leaving wounds so keen.

But let us remember his zest for life’s feast,

His unyielding passion, his insatiable flame,

May his spirit inspire us to venture east and west,

A maestro’s legacy, forever aflame.

"A legacy forever aflame" 

Fuck! Well done A.I. That was beautiful and touching. 

I can only hope that his soul is at peace. 

Anthony Bourdain

June 25, 1956 - June 8, 2018 

Sears Wish Book

Continued from: Miss Julie books the taboo farmhouse

Julie, now dressed like a retro little girl from the 60s,  made her way down the creaky stairs and toward the sound of her "Uncle's" leather belt, being applied to bare flesh. Her "Auntie" Lorraine invited both she and her role-play "cousin" Patrick, to witness Claire's punishment strapping.

Claire had apparently attempted to fiend illness to get out of going to school. Her dishonestly was being harshly addressed by her "Daddy's" belt, all while her "brother" Patrick and visiting "cousin" Julie, knelt and watched on in horror. 

The scene was unfolding similar to this: 

Poor Claire's princess parts and little pucker were aimed directly at Julie and Patrick. Her floral-printed panties that once offered some modesty, were nowhere in sight, long kicked-off by her dangling legs.

Julie's butterflies raged with intensity and despite the dreadful scene she was witnessing, she couldn't help but feel her own princess parts, tingle to life. This was an adult woman, likely a wife and mother who booked the farmhouse experience for her own reasons. She dangled over his knee in such a vulnerable manner Julie thought, all while dressed like a little girl and crying out "Nooooo Daddy!" 

In that moment, as Julie began to squish her thighs together and feel her heartrate increase, she longed to take Claire's place and dreaded the thought of taking Claire's place. 

The poor girl ended up burring her nose back into the corner, on her knees as her sobbing echoed off the wallpaper around her. The scene looked like this, as Lorraine approached, now wielding a hairbrush. 

Patrick and Julie wanted to cry out "mercy," mercy on her behalf! "Not the wooden hairbrush, she's been punished enough," they hoped. 

Lorraine spoke in a no nonsense manner:

"Would you like to head up to the bathroom for your enema young lady, or would you like to go over my stocking tops for a dose of the hairbrush?"

Through her sniffles and snot, Claire managed to crackle out a, "bathroom please Mommy." She was then released from the corner and physically ran out of the room and up the stairs with her palms covering her rosy red bum. 

"And you two!"

"Oh Shit!" Julie gulped. 

The vicious hairbrush being wielded by Lorraine was now being aimed at her and Patrick in the most threatening of manner. 

"You two better get up to your rooms and wait there, you're grounded!"

"What, for what??" Julie thought to herself.

"Julie, I received a call from Becky's mother. It seems we need to have a little chat about your attitude of late." 

"And Patrick, did Daddy read the note you brought home from school because I certainly did and you're in deep trouble Buster Brown!" 

There it was! The butterfly-inducing injects that had been built into their sessions, based on their preferences for discipline questionnaire. 

Julie and Patrick both responded without hesitation and in succession, before scurrying up the stairs to their childish bedrooms. 

"Yes Auntie." 

"Yes Mommy..." 

They passed poor Claire waiting in the bathroom. Obviously this wasn't her first rodeo at this farmhouse or her first retention of an enema. She anxiously waited for her "Mommy" with her bare bottom hole facing the open doorway and her red bum still glowing with heat. 

Julie thought to herself in that moment, that she'd likely accept the enema into her bowels too, if it meant avoiding a hairbrush spanking. 

She wondered if Lorraine would make Claire hold it in for awhile until cramping begins? Or maybe Auntie would only let her release a little ounce or two at a time? What was inevitable however, what Julie continued to ponder, was that Claire's sore bottom would be forced to sit on that hard toilet seat for an extended period of time, adding to the longevity of her overall punishment.  

These thoughts passed quickly, as Julie began to reflect introspectively on her 16-year old self, her attitude in that period of time and the fact that she was now grounded to her bedroom to await God knows what next!

Would it be Unckie's belt, that she just had the arousing horror of witnessing? Or maybe it would be Auntie's slipper or carpet beater, right in front of her cousins too!?

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Julie had an idea to sneak across the hall to Patrick's room. She wanted to ask him if he had ever done this farmhouse experience before, what the hell does being grounded mean and what would happen to them next. 

Julie could hear Claire crying from the bathroom and begging Lorraine for permission to release her soapy enema, all amidst loud, explosive sounds of gaseous water, echoing in the porcelain bowl and splashing into the water.

Julie's mind was reeling from all of the stimulus and vulnerability of this experience, she was beginning to panic. She tiptoed across the hall, hoping to not be caught out in the open while supposedly grounded to her room. She didn't want to knock as Auntie or Uncle might hear. She cracked the door quietly and crept into her cousin's room to ask him what happens next. 

She let out an audible gasp at the sight before her. Patrick had his shorts and tightie-whities completely off, his five digits wrapped around his erect dick, and a Sears Wish Book propped up on the bed.

Julie remained in the room as Patrick scurried to hide his erection with a nearby pillow. Regardless of how evident the scene was, Julie took the opportunity to whisper as loud as she could. 

"What were you DOING?!" 

As if it wasn't obvious. Tissues, wastebasket and you might be curious about the Sears Wish Book? 

Julie could see the opened page on the bed now. 

Remember dear readers, this space is set in a different era of nostalgia. There are no phones and no computers allowed, so the clients are immersed into a decade where these things hadn't been invented yet. 

What has been deliberately placed in the farmhouse though, especially enticing to my silly male clients, is a trusty old Sears Wish Book. A common and reoccurring treasure of this period of history.  

Flip to around the middle of these ancient tomes and you'll find six, maybe seven pages of great big satin panties in white and beige, girdles and a selection of dainty hosiery and bras. If you're lucky enough maybe one of them would be in black lingerie this year, revealing a more dominant "Mommy" aesthetic. 

My naughty male clients, now free of their chastity cages but denied their modern masturbation fuel, have nothing left to turn to, literally, but to turn the pages of a trusty women's "delicates" section of a Sears Wish Book. Haha!

Aren't I cruel? Staging something so sinister. They're probably used to wanking it while watching 4K high-def, ass-to-mouth, dungeon lezdom porn right? Let's see how they manage with only an image of a giant pair of beige panties!

*sinister laugh*  

In the client's welcome package, masturbation is not necessarily prohibited at the farmhouse, just don't get caught with your silly dick in your hand boys, or double-clicking your mouse, girls! This place has a woodshed to be marched out to remember? The consequences could be severe if your "Auntie" or your "Daddy" were to find out you were masturbating. 

Julie, now in the driver's seat, stood before her groveling cousin as his obnoxious erection began to shrivel. Whatever would she do? 

Tattle on him? Tease him? 

Try to use this information to save her own keister from whatever she had coming? Hmm...

Perhaps Julie may answer herself...which could dictate the direction of the next iteration of this experience. 

Would she tell her Uncle, to fuel her burning desire to watch a heterosexual man get spanked over the knee by another man? 

We shall see.

To be continued...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

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

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Julie books the Taboo Farmhouse

Continued from: Brutalized in the Factory

and

The original farmhouse story: Taboo Farmhouse

Mrs. Julie Delmar, stricken with butterflies and involuntary spikes of arousal, didn't really know what to think, as she drove herself to the farmhouse. She arranged through The Facility to undergo an immersive, therapeutic experience that she knew without question, would involve childish discipline practices and deep age regression. 

Moments earlier, Julie kissed her husband David goodbye and told him that she was attending a country retreat for the weekend. Not quite a spa, not quite a B&B, but she was optimistic to undergo whatever tough-love this experience might provide her.  

In her mind, as she drove to the farmhouse, she was already role-playing a younger version of herself. A rude and disrespectful little shit with a chip on her shoulder, who was fast approaching her sweet-sixteen. She felt shame and guilt when she thought about this version of herself and how she could have or should have been dealt with in those days. 

Now, well into adulthood, Julie hoped to make amends with her 16-year old self and face the consequences from a different time, amidst the backdrop of the retro living space of her "Auntie" and "Uncle".

"Ohhhh Ed! Look how much our darling Julie has grown!" Lorraine cooed out, clearly already in-character as their outfits also suggested. Julie nervously ascended the creaky steps on the front porch.

"Hi Auntie," Julie bashfully mewed-out in a bit of a baby-voice. 

"Hi Unckie Ed," she continued.  

Lorraine, clad in her satin gloves, went in for the timeless cheek-pinch of Julie's face.

"Look at you, Dear! You must be all of 14 now? 15?" Lorraine continued.

"I bet your Daddy will be shooing all the boys away soon, huh kiddo?" Ed quipped, all while leering at Julie's tiny little frame.  

Julie was taken aback at just how well these two were playing into their roles. You see, when Cassandra and I first sent Julie her welcome package to attend this weekend session, it contained a questionnaire that almost acted like a choose-your-own-adventure. 

A "Mommy" and "Daddy" session with your "siblings", or an "Auntie" and "Uncle" session with your "cousins". Julie chose the latter. 

Since the experience revolves around domestic discipline, punishment, humiliation and then emotional healing, clients are asked to select how this is prompted throughout the weekend, from a list of injects such as:

• A stern phone call from a neighbourhood mother?
• Overall piss-poor attitude?
• A note sent home with you from school?
• Disrespecting your elders?
• Caught smoking behind the big willow tree out the back?
• Caught masturbating?
• Caught in Mommy or Auntie's bedroom, going through her delicates drawer?

Some clients select all of the above...which is rather intense because they usually end up spending a majority of the weekend grounded, in the corner or being switched out in the woodshed. 

Julie's selections were a bit unique in that she chose a combination of attitude adjustment injects, like being tattled-on by her cousins, teachers and neighbourhood mothers, but she also wanted to be caught masturbating in her bedroom. 

Going through Auntie's panty drawer or being caught masturbating by "Mommy" was usually what the male clients consistently selected. 

Nevertheless, the customer is always right and Julie can have any manner of experience she wishes. 

Despite "Unckie" Ed's compassionate but slightly creepy comment out on the front porch, Julie's session was off to a good start.

"Ed-honey, help Julie with her bag." Lorraine caringly spoke. 

Julie entered the house for the first time and followed behind Lorraine's heel-clicks, as she guided a tour through the home.

When the tour finished in Uncle Ed's den, Julie could feel her face flush red and her heart flutter in her chest. 

Lorraine spoke sternly to the shamed girl in the corner. 

"Claire, your cousin Julie is here. Turn and face her to say hello, then turn back around and face the wall, you still have another thirty minutes to go young lady!"

This order was met with a very rapid, "yes Ma'am," that escaped Claire's lips. Julie was slowly learning the protocols and formalities of this household. 

Julie watched on in embarrassment, as the middle-aged woman with a soccer-mom vibe, who was currently dressed like a little girl, slowly turned around. 

"Hello Julie." She whispered out, with her eyes laced with shame and beginning to fill with tears. 

As instructed, she returned to her position with her nose to the corner and her hands on the head, now softly weeping. 

Julie was invited up to see her room to settle in. Following closely behind Lorraine, Julie thought she would try her luck and ask about Claire. 

"Auntie, why is Claire in time-out?"

"Ohhh the silly girl!" Lorraine replied. 

"She was holding a thermometer near a lamp then putting it in her mouth to claim she was sick. Just to get out of going to school, can you believe that?!" 

Julie held back a giggle, thinking about how retro of a move that was! The old thermometer stunt.

Lorraine continued talking as the two of them creaked up the stairs. 

"You know we're a bit old-fashioned here Julie. Your Uncle Ed and I have to punish Claire for her dishonesty. If she's claiming to be sick, then a good ole', sudsy enema should fix her right up, after your Uncle gives her a good whuppin' of course."

As she spoke she gestured to an open door. Julie looked inside...

She didn't know what was more frightening in that moment, the clinical enema bag prominently on display in the bathroom, or the dreadful colour scheme of the era. Julie had a moment of nostalgia, remembering an avocado-coloured fridge and stove in her own childhood home. Yet her mind still hung on the word “whuppin”, that she just heard escape Lorraine’s red lips.

Julie was seen to her room and given some time alone to process all of this. The room was definitely reflective of a childhood bedroom. Brutal wallpaper and décor, the odd remanence of a children's toy and a scent of cedar trunk and moth balls. 

Lorraine had told her there is a more "suitable" outfit for her in the armoire and that she was expected to dress and come downstairs when ready, to join her other cousin, Patrick.

Now with a better understanding of the gravity of consequences in this home, Julie responded to Lorraine with a, "yes Ma'am". 

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! What have I done?!" She thought to herself, after laying eyes on her new outfit. 

"And with a male cousin in the home now too?! FUCK!"

Her butterflies were raging in her tummy as she began to slip into the pelerine knee socks. They had a vented little eyelet pattern which made her feel dainty and innocent.

Next came a Mary Jane style of heel, that wasn't quite a sandal but close enough. She did her hair in a more age regressed style with a flirty pony. 

The ensemble was clearly designed to emphasize and amplify her vulnerability and humiliation. This became more abundantly clear when Julie slipped the soft pastel dress over her head, letting her arms fall through the puffed sleeves and a gentle Peter Pan collar rested around her neckline. 

Always with a safeword in the back of her mind, Julie took a deep breath and left the bedroom. 

The floors creaked as Julie tiptoed down the hall and into this immersive world of shag carpets, wood paneling and the muffled sounds of Claire crying out from downstairs. 

"I'm sorry Daddy, I'll be a good girrrrrrrl!" As his belt snapped against her bare flesh.

Julie was terrified and shamefully aroused, all at once. 

To be continued...

Mistress Andrea

xoxo     

Continued in: Sears Wish Book

 

  

Brutalized in the Factory

Continued from: Paranormal Activity

Cassandra decided to stay in her sexy little Day of the Dead costume and absolutely brutalize Sarah Jane in the dingy and dirty space in the dungeon of my fetish facility. Cassandra and Sarah Jane have never fucked before and Sarah has been recently engaged in a softer and more tender form of BDSM of late. 

She loves the tenderness and strict nature of her "Daddy" and the discipline and pleasure he provides. However, I also know she misses what she originally asked me for when she first attended my facility, which was degrading and brutal sex acts. She enjoys the contrast of experiencing both of these polar realms. 

That being said, her "Daddy" is gonna sit this one out...he doesn't need to see his "little girl" with a dildo up her ass, drooling and screaming through a shuddering orgasm. He's more used to seeing her in ankle socks and pastel-coloured Mary Janes. 

I brought Sarah Jane down to the dank and ominous space, starting her off over my knee with a sound and thorough spanking. I used the opportunity to go over some rules with her.

As I spanked her bare bum and thighs, I explained that she was to refer to Cassie as "Miss Cassandra" and that she was to obey her every order with zero hesitation. Fairly simple rules I thought, especially when reinforced with a spanking. 

This was also a functional position to have her in, so I could spread her little asshole with my thumbs and fingertips. 

I popped a well-lubricated plug into her butt while she was still over my knee. It was the humane thing to do. She needs to be nice and stretched out back there for what's coming. She gasped and moaned like a whore when the plug seated in place with slippery precision. 

Sarah Jane was blindfolded and gagged with the plug up her ass, captive and caged, shaking with anticipation while she dangled there, awaiting the arrival of my little angel of the occult. 

I had to stay and watch this! This was headed on a trajectory to be so damn hot!

We openly spoke about what Cassandra was going to do, right in front of Sarah Jane. She would give us a deep guttural groan into her gag when we touched on something that was clearly a trigger for her. 

If I remember correctly, my comments to Cassie were as follows: 

"Cassie, make sure you choke her while you fuck her."

*groan!

"Yes, do that too...especially with your latex gloves on! It'll make a lovely sound when you slap her in the face."

*groaaaaaan! 

"That's a good idea too Cassie. Make her ass fuck herself while she looks at he video camera and masturbates." 

*groooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!

Sarah Jane's humiliating audible cues led us to believe we were certainly on the right track for this scene. She was absolutely trembling in her cage and leaving little droplets of pre-cum on the floor below her. 

Cassie and I cozied right up beside the cage and she began to pant loudly when I fingered her. Gasping out sounds of pleasure for the benefit of Sarah, who could do nothing but whimper and listen from her dangling prison. 

We continued to cuck poor Sarah a little while longer, until Cassandra had her first orgasm of the session, making it vocally and abundantly known that she was cumming. 

After Cassandra cums she usually turns into a complete savage. An unleashed wildcat with an insatiable desire to play and continue cumming. She's no slouch wielding a strap-on cock either. I think it's from her dance background and the way she can thrust and roll her hips while wearing the dildo. 

I actually felt excited for Sarah. Gawd she was gonna get railed!

One we released her, I watched as Cassandra slapped the robust cock off Sarah Jane's face, ordering to degrade herself and cry out loud that she is a slut. 

Cassie was as much of the wildcat as I thought she would be, literally pouncing on Sarah Jane when she was finally void of her shackles. 

With two hands gripping Sarah's throat, Cassandra entered her for the first time and began to jack-hammer her dripping pussy, all while her ass remained plugged. Jesus she must have felt so full!  

While Cassandra was "responsibly" strangling Sarah, she was making her beg out loud to be fucked in the ass. This was a very intense scene to witness.

I got the video camera ready and recording, to capture the first moment Cassie got the plug out of her ass and Sarah Jane re-filled her bum with the raging strap-on. 

She put on a good show for the camera, riding with her tits flopping about. 

Amidst the backdrop of the dank, factory space and the creepiness of Cassandra's cosplay, Sarah Jane had a massive orgasm while she rode the cock into her bum. It was probably one of the heaviest orgasms I had ever seen. 

What a naughty little ass-slut! 

We did some forced rimming, so Sarah could adequately thank Cassie for her role in this elaborate scene. How better to thank her, than with a passionate and breathy French kiss to her bottom hole right?

Sarah sweetly thanked both of us for the lovely experience and her earth-shattering orgasm, before we shackled her up in the space to wait, feel exposed and reflect on her session. 

We'll send her "Daddy" down to rescue her in a little while. I'm sure she'll be looking forward to some pink ruffled socks, a crinkly diaper and some tenderness.

I'll have to go put about six gold stars on her progression chart after the show she put on today! *Phew.

Mistress Andrea

xoxo
 

Continued in: Miss Julie books the Farmhouse

 

 

 

     

 

Paranormal Activity

Continued from: The Taboo Farmhouse

My curiosity, challenge and endeavours with the ChatBots have been continuing in entertaining fashion, as I try to get the robots to bend to my perverted will. I must admit, when the thing really gets going in its description of sissy outfits, humiliating spankings or the anticipation of one to come, it can certainly write in a whimsical and elegant manner. 

I have had some decent wins of late! ChatGPT for instance, allowed for a full collaborative story which mirrored my own adult discipline facility. A fictional place in a fictional town where adult men and women can attend to experience emotional catharses, shed tears and have their bare bums spanked for therapeutic purposes. It even allowed for enforced nudity in the waiting room and humiliating cornertime in front of strangers. 

I guess the A.I. rationalized this similar to the peer support of like an A.A. meeting. All of these strangers are here for similar reasons, so it's ok if they share in the same vulnerability. Otherwise, the ChatBot would have gonged me for non-consensual bdsm activities. 

I have found the A.I. to be very logical, as one would assume it would be. A mixture of matter-of-fact empirical evidence, combined with a sensitivity toward cultural differences, human emotion and the mitigation of risk to humans. 

If I were to ask it (which I did...hehe): 

Should I pet an adult lion? 

It senses the danger of such a notion, based on its knowledge of what a lion is capable of and immediately commits to a NO! 

No, attempting to pet an adult lion is extremely dangerous and not recommended. 

This was the A.I.'s opening advice to me. 

One night when I was fiddling with the ChatBot to occupy some time, while I had a red bum to monitor in the corner for an hour, I was curious to see how it felt about the supernatural or theories of conspiracy.

I tried Bigfoot, UFOs, and the Loch Ness Monster. There was some horse-shit that came out of the U.S. recently about aliens and bodycam footage capturing a craft landing in some suburb. I wanted to ask the most rational thing in the world, what it thought... 

All of the answers provided a neutral and inclusive introduction that recognized cultural folklores, myths and conspiracies but eventually the A.I. went on record to say NO...”there is no scientific evidence to support”...blah blah. No surprise here, it answered as I would expect it would answer, the way a robotic form of intelligence should answer. 

But then the hair stood up on my arms, when I read its response to this question: 

Should I mess around with a Ouija board? 

Utilizing a Ouija board is generally not recommended. Ouija boards are often associated with attempts to communicate with spirits or the supernatural, and using them can be unsettling or even potentially harmful.  

HARMFUL? It says...

I thought this thing was the logical, rational robot that knew women who can float in water are not witches? The A.I. who knows that that the City of Atlantis is not a real place but has folklore rooted in Greek Mythology? People apparently have photographed Bigfoot and Nessie, suggestive of evidentiary proof, but the Ouija board is the thing that has the A.I. rattled? 

What data has it collected from the interwebs or who has it been speaking to, to make it think that based on its deductive reasoning, there is a risk to humans who interact with an Ouija board? 

Cassandra is into this sort of shit, because she's a little bit hot-goth and freaky, but damn, harmful you say? Not recommended you say? 

We thought we'd mess around and try a bdsm séance. Lol.

Cassandra said we needed like an offering or sacrifice to the netherworlds so we used poor Sarah Jane. Naked, blindfolded and gagged, Russ helped us get her into a rather demonic-looking bondage pose. 

I don't know who we were offering her up to, but I took great pleasure in whipping her pussy lips with my riding crop as she was upside down like that. Easy target in that pose! Her shrieks of discomfort through her gag, provided a very haunting soundtrack for our séance.  

We weren't able to conjure anything or anyone but since we were all dressed up, some of us more scantily than others, we decided to capitalize on the opportunity and have some fun. 

Sarah Jane's blindfold and gag was removed so I could tease her with my French-cut hosiery. 

Her whimpers from my teasing brought on another whipping, this time of her tits and nipples. I continued my torment while I watched Cassandra eat out my wife's asshole. That was fuckin' hot to watch!

Summer and I actually ended up sacrificing Sarah Jane into the clutches of Cassandra. These two had never really played together before. Cassandra was under instructions to take her to the dungeon space and subject her to angry, goth-sex! Haha.

I'm not 100% sure what that will entail but I wanna watch! 

Stay tuned I guess. We'll try some safe, sane and consensual, NON-HARMFUL dungeon play with our sacrificial slave girl Sarah.

Mistress Andrea

xoxo 

 

Continued in: Brutalized in the Factory