50 Lashes

Continued from: Dinner and a Dungeon

A Sarah Jane story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Oily Hufone Heit

Dinner and a Dungeon

Continued from: Soccer Mom

A Sarah Jane story

As we settled into our seats at the elegant dinner table, I made sure to position myself extra close to Mandy, our knees nearly touching beneath the crisp white tablecloth. The soft glow of the candles cast a warm light across her face, highlighting her delicate features and the nervous excitement dancing in her eyes. 

Leaning in close, I whispered conspiratorially, "Can you believe we're really going to be in a sex dungeon later tonight?" Mandy giggled, a sound that was both innocent and incredibly arousing. "I never imagined I'd find myself in a situation like this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

I replied that I don't usually get to play like this or even wear "big-girl" clothes and I could see the look of confusion cross Mandy's face. 

As we enjoyed our fancy mean, her curiosity about my relationship with Russell became evident. Leaning in closer I began to explain the intricate dynamics that governed my daily life. "You see," I said, my voice low and intimate, "Russell is my "Daddy" Dom, 24/7. When we're in this mode, I address him as "Daddy" and submit to his every whim. 

Mandy's eyes widened with interest, and I could see the gears turning in her mind as she tried to process the new information. I continued, "As part of our dynamic, Daddy requires me to dress like a little girl - frilly dresses, pigtails, knee socks, the works. It's utterly humiliating for someone my age, but also strangely liberating."

A soft giggle escaped Mandy's lips, and I smiled, knowing she was picturing me in such a state. "And when I misbehave," I added, with a deliberate pout to my lip, "Daddy spanks me and I have to stand in the corner." 

Mandy's expression shifted from amusement to fascination as she absorbed the details of our unconventional lifestyle. 

"But," I said, my tone becoming more serious, "when we engage in heavier BDSM play, like in the dungeon where you and I are headed, the dynamic shifts. I call him 'Sir' and we explore darker, more intense scenes." 

I could tell she was eager to learn more. As a novice in the world of kink play, her innocence was both endearing and exciting. As Daddy was paying for the bill, a sudden shift in the atmosphere caught both Mandy and me off guard. His voice cut through our girlish chatter, deep and commanding, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my pussy. 

"When we get back to the Facility, I want both of you in the basement," he declared, his gaze locking onto ours with intensity. "Both of you will be receiving a thorough whipping. Consider it a warm up to this multi-day session." 

Mandy's sharp intake of breath mirrored my own, and I reached out to squeeze her hand, offering support and reassurance. The thought of being whipped alongside this beautiful, vulnerable woman filled me with such arousal I could have cummed right on the spot. I could already see the scene unfolding - two naked forms, side by side and strung up by the wrists. 

When we arrived back to Mistress Andrea's, Mandy and I obediently descended the stairs into the dimly lit basement, my heart was racing and I continued to hold Mandy's hand. The cool air brushed against my skin, raising goosebumps and making my nipples erect, as we approached two stools positioned outside of the main door to the dungeon. 

The silence between us was heavy with unspoken desires and fears, as we took a seat on the two stools. Minutes felt like hours as we waited, our minds racing with thoughts of what was to come, until Mandy broke the silence. 

Her question hung in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she asked, "Is Sir going to force us to have sex with each other?" I met her gaze, seeing a mixture of fear and curiosity in her eyes. With a gentle smile, I replied, "Yes, Mandy. That's exactly what's going to happen." 

"He's going to whip us and torture us until we agree to do very dirty and degrading things with each other." I watched Mandy's reaction closely, savouring the way her pupils dilated at my words. 

"And when we finally break, when we give in to his demands, that's when he's gonna make us...umm, do things with each other." I finally remarked, watching Mandy's squeeze her thighs together in an attempt to fight off the arousal from what I just said. 

Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed above, growing louder as Daddy made his way down to join us. When he emerged from the shadows, my heart was beating out of my chest. Still clad in his impeccable suit, he carried and armful of bondage ropes and and a pair of gleaming tailor's shears. As Daddy approached, I could practically feel the energy crackling between the three of us, a potent mix of dominance, submission, and the promise of exquisite tortures.

As Daddy led us into one of the "dark rooms", the click of our heels echoed through the chamber. Mandy's breathing quickened as she took in the array of implements hanging from the walls - whips, crops, floggers and devices intended to keep us quiet and vulnerable.

With a firm hand, Daddy plopped Mandy on her butt, on the dirty floor, securing her wrists above her head. He then pulled me toward the center of the room, where a set of chains and shackles dangled from the ceiling.

With practiced ease, he secured my wrists in the leather cuffs, hoisting me up until I was balanced precariously on my tiptoes. The position left me vulnerable, exposed, and utterly at his mercy. 

I watched, my heart pounding, as Daddy retrieved the tailor's shears. The blades glinted menacingly in the dim light as he approached me. With agonizing slowness, he began to cut away my dress and panties, the shears slicing through the expensive fabric as if it were nothing. 

Now bare naked but still in my heels, Daddy stepped back to survey his handiwork, I could feel the humiliating weight of Mandy's gaze upon me, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and fascination. With deliberate slowness, Daddy moved to the wall rack, his fingers trailing over the various whips that hung there. 

After a moment's consideration, he selected a particularly wicked-looking flogger, the leather tendrils promising both sting and thud. Positioning himself behind me, he trailed the tails over my exposed skin, a teasing caress that made my nipples harden instantly. 

And then, without warning, the first lash landed, searing a line of fire across my bare ass. Only 49 more to go!

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: 50 Lashes

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