Soccer Mom

Continued from: Her Dark Rooms

A Sarah Jane story 

A few hours later, Mandy arrived at Mistress Andrea's Facility. No doubt her heart was pounding with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety; a feeling I know all-too well. She sat alone in the lobby, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she tried to calm her nerves.

To the casual observer, she looked like any other suburban soccer mom - her sassy pink yoga pants and oversized hoodie, doing little to hint at he dark desires that consumed her thoughts. 

When Daddy and I had the chance to study her file before she showed up, it came as no surprise to me why she would be now waiting in a BDSM facility, wishing to be spanked, brutalized, degraded and humiliated. The lone, distant, glossed-over eyes, suggested to me that she craved the escape that only BDSM can provide. 

She's an ER nurse, first of all. And by the looks of this shot, it's been a heavy shift. 

Then off to soccer practice with the kids maybe, stopping by the grocery store for tonight's dinner. 

On the weekend, she's runs the local bake sale at her church. 

If the church only knew what she was into, my word! *giggle. The cauldrons of holy water would be boiling. (I read about what she was into, in her file...*blush! And I thought I was into some dark stuff). 

Next...Maybe take the mini van for a detailing, because it's covered in crushed goldfish crackers and sticky fingerprints.

Fit in a few self-medicating drinks on the neighbour's back porch and hit the weed pen on Saturday night. 

Wake-up the next morning and take the other minivan to Costco. 

Find a place in the afternoon that does Caesar Sundays and mix in a few of those with some girlfriends. Or maybe a mimosa Sunday morning, by the looks of that image. 

Then go back to work...

Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat...

Now that you know as much about Mandy as I know. Does it come as a surprise to you that she's into the heavier side of BDSM?! Hell no! 

The monotony of her daily life, the responsibilities of being a nurse and a mother, had left her craving something more - something intense and all-consuming. Now, as she prepares to begin her multi-day session at The Facility, she feels a strange sense of peace wash over her. Soon she would be stripped bare, both physically and emotionally, ready to embrace the role of the willing victim in the dungeon below. 

She continued to sit nervously in the lobby, lost in her own thoughts, Daddy (Russell) emerged from a doorway. He cut a striking figure in his tailored suit, exuding and air of confidence and authority that seemed to fill the room. 

Approaching Mandy, he extended his hand and introduced himself. "Hello, Miss Reid. I'm Russell, I'll be filling in for Mistress Andrea for the next few days, I believe she texted you this?" Mandy's eyes remained fixed on the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she responded, "yes, Sir."  

He wasted no time in beginning the scene. "Stand up and strip," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. Mandy hesitated for a moment, her hands trembling as she reached for the hem of her hoodie. Slowly, she pulled it over her head, revealing a simple white bra underneath. Next came her yoga pants, sliding down her legs to pool at her feet. 

As she stood there in her underwear and socks, her instinct was to cover herself, her arm crossing protectively over her tits and her hand cupping her mound. Russell stepped closer, giving her lower, right butt-cheek a sharp smack, causing her to yelp in surprise. 

"I said strip...that means everything off, now!" he growled, his eyes narrowing to take in her partially clothed form.

Mandy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she fumbled with the clasp of her bra, her fingers shaking as she struggled to comply. Finally, the garment fell away, revealing her ample tits and pert nipples. With a deep breath she stepped out of her socks and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her lace panties.

She stood before him, completely exposed, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. Russell held out his hand, silently demanding that she surrender her panties to him. Mandy placed the delicate lace in his palm, her eyes downcast as she awaited his next command. 

He opened the cute underwear to inspect the inside, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as he examined the damp patch on the gusset. "Tsk, tsk," he clicked his tongue, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. 

"Look at this mess. You're already soaking wet, Miss Reid. Is that what turns you on? Being stripped naked and humiliated in front of a total stranger?" 

Mandy's face burned with shame, her eyes filling with tears as she nodded mutely. This was exactly the kind of degrading treatment she craved, the delicious humiliation that set her nerve endings ablaze. Russell tossed the soiled panties aside, his attention now fully focused on Mandy's trembling form. 

"On your knees," he barked, pointing to spot on the floor in front of him. 

As if on queue, the click of my high heels echoed through the lobby as I closed the distance on the kneeling woman and approached her from behind. 

I was wearing a sleek, black cocktail dress that hugged my curves in all the right places, accentuated by a pair of scandalously high strappy heels. Daddy's eyes widened appreciatively as he took in my "grown-up" appearance and winked at me. He doesn't often see me dressed like a "big girl."

"Change of plans," he announced, his gaze flicking between Mandy and I. "The three of us are going to dinner. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other and I booked reservations at the swankiest place in town."

Mandy, still kneeling naked on the floor, kept her head bowed as she murmured, "Yes, Sir. But...Sir, I don't have anything nice to wear..." 

Bless her heart! What a little cutie-pie! 

I helped her to her feet, pulling her in for a warm embrace and greeting her for the first time. Mandy melted into my touch, her body trembling as she accepted the comfort I offered. I pressed a soft little kiss to her lips, a silent promise of the pleasures to come. "Come with me, sweetheart," I chirped, as I led her to a bedroom where everything had been pre-arranged and pre-planned by Daddy, for this exact moment. 

After what felt like an eternity, Mandy emerged from the room, a vision of elegance and sensuality. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of her, a similar black cocktail dress to mine. My eyes were drawn to a tantalizing glimpse of thigh, revealed by the dress's daring slit. Her legs, elongated by the strappy heels, seemed to go on forever, and I found myself imaging them wrapped around my shoulders, as I explore every inch of her newly shaved pussy. 

The way she fidgeted with her fingers, her gaze darting nervously between Daddy and me, spoke volumes about her lack of self-awareness. It was clear that this beautiful, sexy woman had no idea how captivating she truly was. Mandy's innocence and naivety were part of what made her so incredibly alluring. 

The thought of being a slave "sister" alongside this woman and under Daddy's control, sent a shiver down my spine. Together, Daddy and I would show her the depths of her own beauty and unlock her true potential!

I can't friggen wait for "big girl" playtime!! Eeeee!

Sarah Jane 💟 

Continued in: Dinner and a Dungeon

Her Dark Rooms

Continued from: Heathrow

A Sarah Jane story

Good evening, good morning, good afternoon, whichever applies to you; it's Sarah Jane. Let me get all of you quickly caught up on the last few days. After that kiddie pool incident with Summer and I, and my "Daddy", Russell, having a heart-to-heart with Cassandra, she was laser-focused to get herself to London, England to find her lover, Carley. 

Cassie's reckless impulsiveness must have been slightly infectious, as Summer volunteered to help her on her quest for love, followed by Mistress Andrea who "signed-on" to this trio next. The three girls are flying out this afternoon and Daddy and I are now at the bar, in Mistress Andrea's Facility, feeling kinda out of place. 

 

Daddy, for the second time this entire visit, was about to tell Mistress that we best be on our way home and as he was about to do so, she gabbed for his hands saying, "SHIT!....Shit, shit..." in a bit of a panic. 

Just as they were about to walk out the door, luggage in tow, Mistress suddenly froze, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh shit," she gasped, her eyes widening with realization. "I completely forgot about Mandy." She turned to face Daddy and I. "Mandy is a newer client of mine. She's booked for a multi-day session beginning tonight! I can't possibly cancel on her now." 

Mistress paced back and forth, her mind clearly racing for a solution, as the limo to the airport pulled into the driveway. Then, she stopped and embraced Daddy's hands. 

"Darling, I need you to take over this session for me. Mandy is into some pretty intense stuff - you'll have to use my dark rooms - torture, forced orgasms, consensual non-consent. I know it's a lot to ask but I trust you."

From my seat at the bar I felt a wave of heat hit me. My face first, followed by my pussy as I hung on the words that just escaped her lips. Mistress was definitely speaking my language! And who is this, Mandy??! 

I crossed my little fingers and chanted internally, "Daddy, please say yes, please say yes, please say yes, Daddy!" 

My internal praying was interrupted by an assist from Mistress, who turned to me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. 

"Sarah Jane, my dear, I think you may be able to help with Mandy also. You're no stranger to the heavier side of BDSM. 

I felt a rush of excitement course through my veins at Mistress' suggestion, my heart was pounding in my chest. As most of you know, Daddy keeps me predominately "little" and dressed like this most days. You don't whip or torture or electrocute someone dressed like this, right?  

The opportunity to indulge in some heavier play, to push the boundaries of pleasure, pain and consent, was almost too good to be true. I pictured the room in my mind - dimly lit, damp and dingy, filled with the scent of leather and earth as I pull against my chains. 

My daydream dispersed as my attention flipped back to Daddy, who was now trying to sort out how this whole dynamic would play-out. 

"But Mistress," he began, his voice laced with concern, "how will this Mandy girl, react to having a male dominant? She's obviously going to know that I'm not you. And including Sarah Jane in the scene too, as another submissive?"

Mistress confidently waved away his worries with a dismissive gesture. "Sweetheart, Mandy is true submissive at her core. Her desire for intense, dark play overrides any preferences for gender or number of participants. She craves the experience itself - the sensation of being tortured, broken-down, and used against her will. Trust me, once she's in that headspace, it won't matter who's wielding the whip."

Mistress' words alone already had ME in that headspace as I was shamefully soaking through my panties. 

She then checked her watch and huffed. 'We gotta go you two, you got this! We don't want to miss our flight," she said, gathering Summer and Cassie and helping them into the limo with their baggage. 

"Russell, pop into my office and find Mandy’s file on my laptop. Her hard and soft limits are in there, her safewords and there's an image of her face. She'll be here within the hour." 

With that, Mistress disappeared into the limousine, leaving Daddy and I alone with our thoughts. 

I followed Daddy into the office and sat on his lap as the screen illuminated to life.

Once her file was opened, I leaned in closer, curious to see the woman who would be sharing my Daddy's attention, grrrrrrrr! When her image appeared on the screen I couldn't help but gasp softly, she was undeniably cute, with her heart-shaped faced and expressive chestnut eyes. 

However, as I studied the photograph more closely, I noticed a hint of sadness, or a longing in her gaze that tugged at my heartstrings. Despite the initial twinge of jealously that threated to rise to the surface - I found myself drawn to her vulnerability. 

I was suddenly consumed with another daydream, the thought of being "forced" to go down on Mandy, to bring her to the heights of pleasure and transform her sadness into erotic bliss. Perhaps between Daddy and I, we can help her confront whatever demons lurked behind those lone, distant eyes. 

Sarah Jane 💟

 Continued in: Soccer Mom

 

Heathrow

Continued from: Sunglasses

As we navigated the rain-slicked streets, my thoughts drifted to Summer, Cassandra's closest friend and confidante over the years, almost becoming like a big sister to her. Quietly, I composed a message on my phone, my thumbs flying over the letters as I relayed the heart-wrenching scene that had unfolded at the airport. "It was devastating," I typed, my own heart heavy with maternal protection over Cassie. "She's utterly broken. She's gonna need you, Sums" 

I hit send, hoping that Summer would understand the gravity of situation and adopt that big sister role for Cassandra, consoling her "little sister's" first taste of heartbreak.

As soon as we entered the house, Cassandra made a beeline for her room, her shoulders hunched and her steps heavy. Without a word, Summer, clad in her adorable Barbie pajamas, followed closely behind, her own maternal instincts kicking into high gear.

Summer slipped into bed with Cassie, who clawed at her for support, molding her body to fit perfectly nestled into Summer's breasts. Her chest provided a soft, comforting pillow for Cassandra, who just held Summer and cried.  

Meanwhile, downstairs, Russell and Sarah Jane suggested that they should probably leave.

As they moved towards the door, I felt a sudden urge to stop them. "Wait, Russ," I called out, my voice firm yet gentle. He turned to face me. "You need to speak to Cassandra," I explained. "You know what it's like to let go of someone you love." 

Russell's eyes widened, and I saw a flicker of recognition pass across his face. He knew I was taking about the moment he let me go, so many years ago. I looked into his eyes, I knew that he was the only one who could truly understand was Cassandra was going through.  

Russell crept silently into Cassandra's room, his footsteps barely a whisper against the plush carpet. As he approached the bed, he gently tapped Summer on the shoulder, signaling for her that it was okay to leave. 

Once alone with Cassandra, Russell sat down beside her, his heart heavy with the weight of his own memories. 

"Cassie," he began softly like a father, his voice laced with emotion. "I know what you're going through. Years ago I fell deeply in love with Andrea, just as you have with Carley. Our connection was electric, consuming every fiber of our beings. But in the end, I let her slip away...

He paused, taking a deep breath and wiping a lone tear from his eye before continuing. 

"Don't make the same mistake I did, Cassandra. Don't let Carley walk out of your life without telling her how you truly feel." 

Cassandra's eyes met his, glistening with unshed tears. 

Russell reached out, deliberately squeezing her hand. "You get on a fuckin' plane, Cassie, you go over there and you tell her how you feel. Leave nothing unsaid." 

As Russ finished sharing his heartfelt advice, a playful smile tugged at the corners of Cassandra's mouth. Her eyes now gleaming with a mix of mischief and excitement, the prospect of such a rash and rebellious plan ignited a fire within her. 

Without hesitation, she launched herself into Russell's arms, clinging to him tightly like a little girl seeking her Daddy's love. 

"I'm gonna do it!" She gushed with enthusiasm. "I'm gonna hop on the first flight I can, tomorrow! Thank you!"

Cassandra sprang into action, her movements fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. She dashed around her room, grabbing clothes, lingerie, sex toys and tossing them haphazardly into her suitcase. Russell watched her for moment, a soft smile playing on his lips, before making his way back downstairs to rejoin the girls. 

I looked up expectantly with concern on my face. "Well?" I asked urgently, "how did that go?"

Russell took a deep breath and looked directly at Summer, rather than looking at me. "Umm, she's flying to London, England tomorrow," he announced, his tone calm and measured. 

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the gravity of his words sinking in. Then almost simultaneously, my jaw dropped open and eyes widened in disbelief. 

"What?!" I exclaimed, as Sarah Jane sat in silence while Summer was covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

Summer knew full well the audacity of Cassandra's fury and impulsiveness.

I immediately turned to Summer who was still smirking. 

"Are you working trans-Atlantic tomorrow, baby?" 

She nodded slowly, her red lips curing up into smile. 

"Oui...I'm on the evening flight to Heathrow. I'll stay with her, and help her find Carley..." 

I sighed with relief...thank Heavens... 

You know what, fuck it...Summer can get me on board for free. I'm goin' too! 

Cassandra needs us. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Her Dark Rooms

Sunglasses

Continued from: Weeping Willow

Sarah was simply exquisite with her tongue, lapping at my pussy with such skill and dedication. Each flick sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, building to a crescendo that left me quivering. And all the while, we could hear Summer's muffled cries emanating from the pool house, her voice growing frantic as Russell pounded into her with primal abandon. 

The combinations of sensations - the warmth of Sarah's mouth, the distant sounds of Summer being fucked, the urgency of my own impending climax - it was utterly intoxicating.

Once Summer and Russell emerged, flushed and giggling, his still-hard cock indicated to me that he didn't finish. He let Summer cum while she was being railed and held off his own orgasm, what a gentleman! 

Sarah noticed this too, a smile from ear to ear cresting her face, as she impaled herself on him with a sigh of pure bliss. As she began to ride him, Summer leaned in, capturing Sarah's lips in a searing kiss. The sight of those two beauties, their tongues tangling as they shared the lingering flavour of my pussy, was enough to send my curious fingers down to my clit, hurling me towards another mind-blowing orgasm. 

It was a fitting conclusion to a deliciously debauched afternoon. I watched with a mixture of amusement and arousal as Summer, Russell and Sarah hurried into the house. Sarah's round ass was still red from belt strapping she had received the previous night, while Summer's shapely bottom displayed twenty-six vivid stripes from my expert application of the willow switch. 

Just as I was contemplating the various ways I could further torment and tease my willing subjects, the gate swung open, revealing Cassandra and Carley. The two young women, their hands clasped tightly together, looked Gothically radiant as they entered the yard. Cassie took Carley on the usual southern-Ontario tourist haunts, as Carley had never seen or experienced some of the beauties of a Canadian summer. 

Niagara Falls, once heralded as the most romantic place on Earth. I've been there a few times...can't say I agree with that one but I imagine these two made the most of the Fallsview hotel suite they spent a few days in. 

They took in the sights and sounds of bustling Toronto...

And finished off with a romantic and likely passionate few nights in a tent in Algonquin Park. 

As they sweetly held hands in the back yard, their faces were alight with the glow of shared experiences and budding romance. As I observed the tender interactions between these two, I couldn't help but notice an underlying tension that seemed to emanate from Cassie. Her grip on Carley's hand tightened ever so slightly, and there was a subtle furrow in her brow. 

It dawned on me that tonight would be the night she would have to bid farewell to Carley, as she prepared to head back home to the UK. The realization hit me like a punch in the gut, that I would be the one to drive these two to the airport. I couldn't even imagine the emotional upheaval that Cassandra must be experiencing right now. 

As time got closer and the sun set, I approached the living room, the sound of muffled sobs caught my attention. Peering from around the corner, I found Cassandra on her knees, her face buried in Carley's lap as she clung desperately onto her legs. The sight was heartbreaking, a raw display of vulnerability and despair from my sweet Cassie. Her shoulders shook with each ragged sob, her words barely intelligible. 

"Please don't go," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with emotion. "I can't bear to be without you!" Carley stroked Cassandra's hair gently, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she tried to comfort her distraught lover. 

As we prepared to depart for the airport, I pulled Cassandra aside and pressed a pair of sunglasses into her hand. She looked at me puzzled, no doubt wondering why she would need them, it was nighttime. But I knew all too well the pain of airport goodbyes. Russell and I experienced many, back in the day and we developed a code-word...a code-word that was: "sunglasses". And Cassandra was about to figure out why...

I watched from a distance, as they shared a final kiss, adamant that rather than saying "goodbye", they chose to tell each other, "until we meet again." The reality of Carley's impending departure hit Cassie like a freight train. With trembling hands, she slipped on the sunglasses I had given her earlier, grateful for the smoky veil of protection that would hide her tears from curious passersby. 

Tears streamed down her face, hidden from view but no less potent in their intensity. We watched in silence as Carley stepped onto the escalator, her figure growing smaller with each passing second until she disappeared from sight. Cassandra turned to me, her body shaking with the force of her sobs, and threw herself into my arms. 

She clutched at me desperately, her fingers digging into my back as if trying to anchor herself in the face of overwhelming grief.

"Andrea, please!" she choked out between gasping breaths, "is it suppose to hurt like this? Do something, Andrea! Don't let her go..."

On the drive home, Cassie just curled into a ball in the front seat, nothing further was said. Rain splattered down against the windshield as I remembered back to my own experiences in that bloody airport, a time when Russell and I both had to don sunglasses on countless occasions. 

The only sound that filled the car was the steady drumming of rain against the windows, a fitting accompaniment to the storm raging within Cassie's heart. She stared blankly out at the water-streaked glass, her eyes vacant and unseeing, lost in the depths of her own despair. 

I couldn't help but wonder what the coming days would bring. Cassandra's fiery temperament, coupled with the searing pain of separation, was a volatile combination. Would she lash out in anger, taking out her rage on the male clients? 

Or would she turn inward, allowing the darkness to consume her entirely? 

Mistress Andrea 😢

xoxo

Continued in: Heathrow

  

 

Weeping Willow

Continued from: Summer Kisses

A Sarah Jane story

As I observed the unfolding drama, Mistress' expression turned glacier-cold, her patience worn threadbare by Summer's bratting. With a crisp tone, she commanded, "Get out of the pool, young lady." Summer, sensing the gravity of her mistake, slowly climbed out of the water, her lower lip trembling. "And don't dawdle," Mistress added, her gaze unyielding. 

"Cut a willow switch from the garden and strip its leaves. We need to discuss your behaviour." The implication hung heavy in the air - a switching awaited Summer's bare bum, and I suspected it wouldn't be a gentle one. 

Seated on a little chair, her back to the three of us and head bowed, Summer resembled a chastened schoolgirl, facing the fence as if confined to timeout. Her task, stripping the willow switch of its leaves, became an exercise in humiliation, each delicate finger movement a reminder of her behaviour. 

The air was heavy with expectation as Summer, her cheeks aflame, carefully carried the denuded switch to Mistress Andrea, her hands extended to present it shamefully. "Please, Mommy," she requested, her voice laced with embarrassment, "may I be punished, Ma'am?" The words dripped with obedience and ritual, yet trembled with trepidation. 

I watched, riveted with secret arousal, as Mistress inspected the whippy instrument of correction, her scrutiny unwavering. Satisfied with the weight and flexibility of the switch, Mistress stood tall in her stiletto sandals. "Bend over, Summer Addison," she commanded, her voice devoid of emotion. 

As Summer reluctantly complied, she flipped her hair to the side, looking back and crying frantically. "Please, Mommy, not here! Not in front of everyone!" Her gaze scanned Daddy and I, searching for a sympathetic ear. "Take me inside, please! Punish me in private, Mommy!" 

With a curt nod, Mistress grasped Summer's bicep, as she dragged her struggling form toward the pool house, leaving Daddy and I to sit in their wake. As they vanished into the dim interior, the door swung shut behind them, enveloping us in an uncomfortable silence. 

The closed door muffled the sounds, but couldn't mask the unmistakable whistle of the switch slicing through the air, followed by the sharp report of impact. Muffled gasps escaped, punctuated by Summer's strained counting, "Eight, thank you Ma'am...Nine, thank you Ma'am..." Each stroke uttered was laced with humiliation, echoing through my pussy like a mantra. My own arousal responded, my clit growing achy, as I visualized Summer's naked and vulnerable pose. 

Eventually the door creaked open and Mistress emerged, her demeanour serene and composed, a stark contrast to the turmoil that lingered within. She deliberately left the door open, framing a tableau absent of dignity: Summer, stood with nose pressed to the corner, her slender hands clasped atop her head in a posture of shame and surrender. 

The curvaceous perfection of Summer's bum, once smooth and unblemished, now bore the crimson testament of her misbehaviour - 26 precise welts, etched across her skin like a fiery script. Daddy and I heard her count aloud, all 26, although her sobs rendered the last few counts indistinguishable.

Thirty minutes crept by slowly, Summer still trapped in her shameful corner, her body language screaming of remorse and fatigue. Then, I gently broke the stalemate. "Daddy...why don't you go comfort her, if Mistress is ok with that, of course." 

Daddy's gaze darted toward Mistress, awaiting her approval and consent. We all knew that when I said, "comfort her", I was actually suggesting that Daddy give her what she so desperately craved and so frustratingly missed out on, last night. 

"Should we give the little brat what she wants?" Mistress chimed in. "That seems a bit counterproductive."

"It's okay, Daddy," I urged him on with my gentle tone. "I want you to...and I'm sure Mistress will have something to keep me busy out here," I glanced to Mistress with a devilish grin. 

As I watched, Daddy shut the door to the pool house behind him, his entrance heralded by a faint whimper from Summer, still positioned in the corner. She didn't dare move, her only sign of life came from a sigh that escaped her lips. But as Daddy's footsteps drew closer, her head slowly turned, her gaze rising to meet his. 

A smile of triumph flickered across her features as she took in the sight of him, his swim trunks discarded, his cock proudly erect. She gingerly knelt down and sat back on her heels, causing her to wince as her little bare feet came into contact with her whipped bottom. 

Focusing on the engorged cock, just inches from her lips, in a parody of innocence, she cooed, "Daddy, is that for me?" The words dripped with affected sweetness, but beneath, a layer of raw hunger. 

"Someone seems like she knows how to throw a tantrum and get her own way?" Daddy teased. "But bratting comes at a cost it would seem." 

"YES!" Summer squealed. "That's it! Call me your spoiled brat when you fuck me, Daddy. Teach me a lesson." 

I think Summer was being deliberately loud, as Daddy draped her over a giant inflatable pool toy and  fucked the daylights out of her, intentionally broadcasting her pleasure in a display of bratty victory.

But I wasn't paying much attention, my focus was consumed by the lush, velvety softness of Mistress' pussy, my lips worshipping the delicate contours as she guided my head with gentle pressure. 

What a wild few days I've had! 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Sunglasses

Sarah Jane's actual summer cuteness is purchased from an online store called "Little for Big". She has a few of these little suits and she and Russell do indeed, own a kiddie pool for her. 

Here's a link to the store (and I am in no way affiliated to the store, it's just really cute stuff!)

Little for Big

 

 

Summer Kisses

Continued from: Slumber Party

A Sarah Jane story.

Morning light crept into the room, casting a warm glow over the sprawling bed where the four of us slept the night away. I stirred first, my bum throbbing with a dull ache - remnants of last night's strapping over Daddy's knee. As I gingerly shifted onto my tummy, Summer's sleep-heavy gaze fluttered open, her concern etched on her face. Without a word, she reached out, her little hand tracing gentle circles on my sore bottom. I winced at first, but it was soon replaced with gratitude as she soothed my bare cheeks with little kisses. 

Our sleepy gazes met, and without needing any words, we both knew it was time to acknowledge the lingering tension between us. We eased closer and pulled our panties to the side. Wetness seeped from our pussies as we aligned ourselves, our legs intertwining into a scissor. 

In hushed silence, we began to move against each other, our slick folds and swollen clits clapping together in rhythmic synchrony. Moans built in the back of our throats, as our mutual arousal grew, until finally, in tandem, we both covered our mouths and shuddered through climax. 

I realized why these stolen moments with Summer were so precious - they reminded me that even amidst the turmoil of our submissive roles, there existed a deep bond between us. 

Daddy stirred awake next, followed by Mistress Andrea. He saw the mischievous guilt and flushed cheeks that enveloped our smiling faces. 

"What just happened there?" He asked rhetorically. 

Summer and I erupted into fits of laughter, her playful fingers tickling my belly. Before long, we were scrambling to dress in "little-girl" pastel swimsuits and tying our hair up in pigtails. 

"Daddy, can we please set up our kiddie pool?" Summer requested, her big blue eyes shining with an irresistible innocence. Daddy hastened to oblige, his accommodating smile betraying a glimmer of amusement. As he laboured over the inflatable pool, Summer and I bounced about in the periphery, squealing with anticipation. 

With the pool finally filled and splashing water beckoning, Summer and I climbed inside, our pigtails bobbing as we frolicked and kissed amidst the sprinkling droplets.

Daddy and Mistress eventually joined us outside, their paternal and maternal smiles creasing their faces as they sat to supervise our antics. It was almost like we had become a little family and in that moment, I felt a butterfly-churning urge to just hug Mistress Andrea, and call her "Mommy". 

As the morning wore on, our frolicking in the little pool gradually gave way to more tender displays of affection. We floated closer to one another, and with our faces inches apart, we shared a soft, exploratory kiss. The sound of lapping water and songbirds provided a serene backdrop for this intimate moment. 

Summer pulled back from the kiss, rolling my bottom lip sensually as she did while gazing into my eyes with a somber expression. "You know, baby," she murmured, "we've been through so much together, haven't we?" I nodded mutely, my pigtails bobbing in agreement. "As submissives, we've faced our share of challenges," Summer continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "But despite all of that and the roles we all play, I want you to know that I love you, Sarah. You're more than just a friend to me." 

Tears glazed over Summer's eyes as she smiled sweetly, her heart and mine, swelling with emotion. Suddenly, a flicker of melancholy crossed her face. 

"To be honest, baby, I was a little let down last night," she confessed, her voice hesitant. "At bedtime when Daddy was fucking you...you know," her voice trailed off in embarrassment. "Sometimes, sweetheart, a girl just needs the real thing. Not a strap-on from Mistress, no matter how skilled she may be." 

I nodded empathetically, my ponytails bouncing in accord. "It's okay to feel that way, Summer. If it's ok with Mistress, we can share Daddy; there's enough love to go around." I gently squeezed Summer's hand as we exchanged another tender kiss. "It seems Mistress doesn't mind sharing you with me, right?" I giggled. 

Later in the day, whether it was the boldness that only alcohol can provide or Summer just needing to get it out in the open, she paddled her little feet over to Mistress, her bottom lip jutting out in a classic tantrum pose.

"Mommy, it's just not fair!" she declared. "Sarah said Daddy could have fucked me last night too, and that she doesn't mind sharing, cuz it's me!" Summer's arms crossed like a brat as she huffed. When I looked at the expression on Mistress' face, I could tell a severe punishment was looming, and I suspected it would involve a red-hot bottom. 

"Get out of the pool young lady, go cut a switch from the big Willow! 

"Ohhh gawd," I cringed on her behalf. "That's gonna suck, on a wet bottom!" 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Weeping Willow