Thanking after Spanking

Continued from: Sunday Maintenance Ritual

In the domestic discipline relationship that Summer and I enjoy, not only is it important for us to adhere to certain rituals and structure, but it is equally important for both she and I, that I be thanked after Summer is given a spanking. 

It doesn't matter if the spanking is her weekly maintenance, or if she has been punished for a real reason. Summer is always required to thank me after her cornertime. 

In a male-led, female-sub relationship, this may appear as the wife or girlfriend, getting down on her knees while her husband stands, and takes his cock into her mouth. The mere positioning alone, is strikingly symbolic of the D/s roles at play. 

Yes, Summer does take my strap-on like this, after she has been spanked, but not right off the bat. First she worships her "Queen”. 

Essentially what worship means for us, is that Summer gives me a massage, all the way from my toes, to just beneath my earlobes, only using her lips and tongue. She is not permitted to have my pussy, until she has earned it, by pleasing the rest of me. Generally, she begins with my feet. 

Each toe is individually kissed, then sucked on. First one foot and then the other, before she moves on to my soles and arches. 

She will kiss and lick all the way up my calves and thighs until she reaches my bum, which she skips for the time being, moving to my other leg to kiss all the way down it, back to my ankle. It is quite the little tease to feel her warm breath, graze past my asshole and pay it absolutely no attention. But she'll be back!

The same cute little French kisses are now planted all over my bare bum and into my bum crack which she also licks the full length of. The tease this time, is her hot breath now on my pussy, which she won't go near yet. Eventually her sharp little tongue finds its way into my asshole and I completely melt into the bed. 

I raise and spread for her, so she can passionately kiss my anus directly, moaning out loud as she does.

She traces up my tummy and along the sides of my ribs, which gives me wild goosebumps. Such amazing chills that my nipples harden instantly, just as her mouth arrives up there. Summer spends a few moments on both breasts and both nipples, kissing and suckling away. 

When she finally reaches my mouth for a kiss, this is the moment she purrs to me and formally thanks me for her spanking. We usually hug at this point and tell each other, "I love you." Then she makes the slow and deliberate journey back down my chest and stomach, having now earned my throbbing puss puss. 

When Summer's tongue finally gets to her ultimate prize, pussy worship begins. She has earned it, after doing such an amazing job with feet, legs and ass worship. 

I cum repeatedly, directly onto her pouty lips, in a number of wonderful positions, eventually ending with a face ride...my all-time favourite. 

When I flip around and face her feet, she continues to diligently lick as my fingertips use her nipples as speed and depth dials. This pinching and twisting, also causes her to moan directly onto my wet pussy. The vibrations feel amazing. 

This whole worship and thanking process takes well over an hour, sometimes considerably longer than that. When Summer knows this stage has concluded, without being prompted she goes to our wardrobe and gets a strap-on harness, which she helps me into and attaches. This is the symbolically submissive moment, when she kneels and takes my cock into her mouth. 

Just enough to lubricate the dildo nicely, before I take in a handful of her hair and fuck her on the bed.

If she can cum from penetration only, which is rare for her, she may, but she is not permitted to manually masturbate her clit while she's being fucked. 

Is it more of a discipline fucking by that logic? I guess so, it's rough. The strap-on we use for "thanking after spanking" is considerably larger than a standard one or the ones we use on the sissies. 

When I pull out of her for the final time, she thanks me once again. 

"Thank you Ma'am." Sometimes, "thank you Mommy," I usually hear, depending on her mood.

Then, just like someone flipping a switch, we are back into vanilla mode. Outfits and toys and implements all get cleaned up. We end up downstairs in jammies, giggling and watching a show, eating popcorn. 

Vanilla, despite how Summer likes to dress around the house, which is usually "little", especially after she's been spanked and fucked. She even kept her hair bow in for tonight! What a cutie. I love her so much. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Sissy slave to a Couple

 

Sunday Maintenance Ritual

Continued from: A quiet night in

Sissy Kaylee got everything he politely asked for, when Summer returned with two reasonably girthy strap-ons. After Summer and I had finished our special playtime with each other, Kaylee knew he was in for a horribly emasculating spit-roast. 

It's beautiful to hear him moan and gasp onto the cock that Summer had in his mouth, when I entered his little boi pussy from behind. 

His little clit remained limp inside the metal bars of his chastity cage, as the odd wisp of pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his penis. Kaylee doesn't get hard anymore, he gets wet, just like a girl! I absolutely love it. We frequently find girly wet stains in his panties and have even started making him use pads, if his pre-cum flow is especially heavy from one month to the next. 

He's so far down the rabbit hole we might as well try tampons next, up his little backdoor for a few days each month.  

After we had our fun with Kaylee, I asked Summer to take him upstairs and put him down for bed. Despite our best efforts with the strap-on, Kaylee never achieved a sissygasm from his assfucking. He would have to go to bed denied and horny unfortunately. 

Much like many of the rituals I like to use at my Facility, a sissy being "put-down" for bed also comes with its own routine. Summer would first help him out of his maid attire, then select a babydoll or teddy, sheer lingerie number for him to sleep in. This would be paired with matching panties and usually thin ankle socks with ruffles or lace. 

Summer would then give him a caring but sound spanking over her knee, while Kaylee's body is supported by his princess bed. 

Two splotches of Johnson & Johnson, pink baby lotion goes onto his bare bum cheeks next, which Summer will massage in, while cooing and humming to him. Then she will tuck him beneath the sheets, kiss his forehead and lock the pink cell door. This is where Kaylee stays until morning, usually only leaving his bed to use the potty or walk off a nocturnal erection in his cock cage. 

Quite the lifestyle this sissy has chosen for himself. Feminized, frustrated and in tears frequently. He spends most of the day Sunday in his sissy cell, so he cannot see or hear Summer receiving her maintenance spanking. He is usually let out late in the afternoon for another round of cleaning and chores and by evening, he heads home, still in his chastity cage, to prepare for his vanilla work week.

Sunday's for Summer go much differently. The ritual begins with me giving her a hot, soothing bath. After her bath she dresses in the outfit I have laid out for her, she does her hair very childish and her make-up like that of a doll. She spends all morning dressed like a ridiculous little girl.

My attire on Sunday mornings, we refer to as the "Costco Mom", which is the way Summer wants it. Jeans or yoga pants, a sensible top, sometimes a dress and boots. We haven't actually gone to Costco with her dressed like this but sometimes, before her spanking on a Sunday, I will take her out in public for some humiliation. We usually go to the park or through a drive-thru, the odd person will notice she's a full grown woman, then see the contrast in the way I am dressed compared to her.  

By the time we get home after these outings, Summer is extremely vulnerable and more than ready to go over "Mommy's" lap, to wipe her slate clean from the week prior and prepare to focus on the week ahead. 

Around noon on this particular Sunday, I quietly led her to the corner and informed her that it was time to begin. She immediately started to well-up, deeply absorbed into her role and headspace. Summer spends thirty minutes in timeout, anticipating her upcoming spanking. 

When her timer is up, I gently and caringly call her from the corner. She walks directly to my right side, while I am seated in an armless chair from the dining room. Without being prompted, she pulls her panties down to her ankles, raises her skirt and drapes herself across my lap. 

Regardless of what type of "little girl" attire I have her in for Sunday maintenance, her panties are always a style like this: 

They are always childishly patterned, big, full-bottomed, cotton panties. They fit her tightly but are large and frumpy, Summer absolutely hates them and they humiliate her deeply. Panties like this reinforce the fact that Summer's Sunday spanking is not sexual, in the moment, it's not playful or fun. It is meant to be thorough, memorable and embarrassing. Also, this is one of the reasons I administer her spanking in the living room where it's nice and bright, with the blinds open. 

Summer reddened up very nicely with just my hand, but this was only her warm-up. She had a long way to go yet. This is what she has asked for, pleaded with me for, and this is exactly what she needs to centre and ground her. 

After finishing off with the wooden hairbrush, Summer was a bawling mess. Crying out "I'm sorry Mommy, I'll do better," and anything else that made sense to her to say. This wasn't even a punishment spanking, for any particular reason. Sometimes she just needs to say "I'm sorry Mommy," even if that language doesn't fit the setting. 

She was permitted a brief moment of rubbing the nasty brush strokes away, before it was off to the corner to finish up the rest of her tears. 

A timer was once again set for thirty minutes, without fail. This was part of her Sunday ritual and she knew it. Half-hour before her spanking and a half-hour after. Someone do the math for me. If Summer lived for another sixty years and we maintained this ritual every Sunday, how many days of her life would have been spent with her nose in the timeout corner? 

I grabbed my tea to re-heat it in the microwave, once Summer was all positioned in the corner. 

"Worship, in thirty minutes young lady," I called out to her. 

"Yes Mommy," she replied through her sniffles. 

 Worship. Also a Sunday ritual. What does that mean? Stay tuned to find out. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

 

Continued in: Thanking after Spanking

A quiet night in

Continued from: All three holes

I look forward to Saturday nights. Unless Summer and I are hosting some manner of upper floor party, it's typically just the two of us. Sometimes a sissy slave is present, mincing around in heels with their bum plugged. Summer is usually extra cuddly and extra subby, as she knows Sunday is her maintenance spanking day. On the eve of her maintenance, she's usually well behaved and less sassy. 

Much easier to grope and play with on Saturday nights. Ha!

It had been a long week with much activity at the Facility. Sarah and Russ spent quite a bit of time here yesterday, before heading out. As written by Sarah in the last few posts, she and Russell got along quite well together, before wrapping things up and going their separate ways. 

Russ was brilliant with her. Simply stating, "until we meet again," as he departed. This left poor Sarah to wonder if she was his now, an owned slave, did she perform okay for him, would they have another session? I'm quite certain if I know Russ, he'll continue her training over text and work out all his rules and expectations of her, then have another session. 

Sissy Kaylee showed up late Friday, to stay the weekend. He was put into a sheer babydoll and panties, before I locked him into the princess bedroom for the night. By morning he showered, did his own hair and makeup and reported for duty in the maid-attire I had laid out for him. 

Summer and I spent most of the day outside as Kaylee completed his list of chores for us. Hand-washed delicates, polished heels, clean floors and windows, these were just a few items on Kaylee's list. The odd time he would come find us with pout on his face, asking if his anal plug could be re-lubricated. 

He wasn't wrong in asking and of course we allowed it. Prolonged use of an anal plug requires several re-lubings so it stays comfortable. As comfortable as an ass plug can be, that is. 😈

As the sun was setting, Summer joined me on the couch and we snuggled in to start a movie. 

I set up a training dick for Kaylee so when he wasn't serving us and was idle, he could at least wait with a realistic cock in his mouth or practice some fellatio.

Dreadfully, white-noise humiliating, but with his "clit" locked up he didn't have much choice in the matter. 

Of course while Kaylee was emasculated in the corner, with a dildo in his mouth, Summer and I had to remind him exactly what he can never have. 

Kaylee couldn't see but he could definitely hear. Between his loud wretches and gags on the cock, were Summer's cries and pleas of ecstasy, begging out loud for permission to cum. 

She was granted permission several times! She was so finger-licking delicious I couldn't help myself but to allow her orgasm. Plus, this gets some of her pent-up sexual energy released, before her maintenance spanking tomorrow. 

Equally as delicious, is ME! And now it was my turn to enjoy a hot, wet little mouth that is insatiable for my pussy and ass. 

Poor Kaylee got quite the earful as he continued to work that cock and practice his technique. The odd time Summer or I would call over to him, and remind him to kiss and lick the balls too. 

As Summer and I wrapped things up I called out to Kaylee and reminded him about that time he was fucked by the pilot, on my wedding night. 

"Would you like us to call him back for you sissy? So you can pleasure a real cock and take some dick again?" I teased. 

I didn't allow him time to remove the dick from his mouth to answer. 

"Or would you like Summer and I to fuck you before bedtime instead?" 

Kaylee removed the cock from his mouth and turned to face me, submissively. 

"May I please have your strap-on Goddess, and your strap-on please Mistress?" He politely asked us, while using our official titles. 

"What do you think Babygirl?" I purred to Summer. "Are you up for a spit-roast?" 

She giggled out loud as she always does... 

"Fuck yes I am!" she chirped. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Sunday Maintenance Ritual

All Three Holes

Continued from: Objectification

A post from Sarah

When Russell returned to me I was whipped. 

I wasn't counting, but I am quite certain I received every one of the 100 lashes he indicated that I would be getting, before he left me to anticipate. He must have been using a less severe, more delicate flogger, as it felt like I was being whipped hard, with force, but there was no searing sting or incredible pain. 

My bare bum took the majority of the lashes, with some attention paid to my upper back and my thighs, above my knees. The sensation was incredible, my skin was electric and felt like a really good sun burn. I was so fuckin' horny for him, to be used by him for his pleasure. Most of his cum had since dried onto my face and wetness was glistening down my stomach from the drool escaping the base of the ball gag. 

When my bondage was finally released and whipping had concluded, I collapsed down onto my hands and knees, disgracefully cowering on the floor, begging Master for mercy. I offered up my holes, all three of my slutty fuck-holes, as an alternative to being beaten any further. 

Sure, I was acting a little bit, playing into my own fantasy of having my will broken, enough to submit to dirty, degrading and forceful sex. 

My ponytail was used as a leash, to guide and drag me over to the coffee table. He kept a firm grip on it throughout, as Master plunged his raging cock into my pussy. 

It was such an amazing fucking! It's making my toes curl even now, as I sit here in my vanilla, WFH office and write about this. 

We seemed to be very in-sync with each other, feeding off each other, in how this was all developing. While he was fucking me from behind he slipped a thumb into my asshole. Of course my naughty little pucker involuntarily gripped his thumb, which was horribly humiliating. I could feel my own asshole squeezing him, like I had no control over it. 

I cried out, "no Sir! Please no! Not my bum!!" I wailed loud enough that if Mistress Andrea was downstairs, she would have definitely heard me. 

I wanted nothing more that to be fucked in the ass by him, but I continued my ruse of non-consent. I'm a huge anal slut and wanted to cum while his dick was in my third and final hole. I just wanted Master to take, not ask. 

And take he did!

Master "forced" me to ride him reverse cowgirl, and do all the work. He just laid there motionless, as I was forced to bounce, with my tits shamefully flopping, and fuck my own asshole. It was so dirty and degrading I orgasmed instantly, with a little flicker of my clit. I kept on destroying my ass with his cock, then came again. 

My legs where shaking so badly I couldn't maintain the crouched position anymore. I sat right down on Master so the full length of his dick was deep inside, as he shot hot semen into my bowels. 

I'm sure I'm leaving out some other details of our time together, in the Parlour space. Times I was smacked and called names. Tormented about having dried cum on my face or a fresh, squishy load in my rectum. All of it added to the overall experience. I loved every fuckin' second of being flogged, broken and man-handled the way I was. 

I enjoyed that Russ didn't start the scene with a bunch of rules and protocols, or feel the need to go-over safewording. All of these things were assumed, before we ever began. The only thing he felt he needed to say, was that line from my last post: 

"This is what you want?"

Fuck YES it was! 

I was provided a robe. I guess to regain or protect what dignity I had left, after all three of my fuck-holes were just destroyed. Master wanted me in the heels I arrived in also, cute look I suppose. 

We retired to the kitchen and very sweetly, like I was the victim of a housefire or something, wrapped in one of those grey, humanitarian blankets, he asked me if I wanted a tea. Melted my heart a little, not gonna lie. 

I had not received a tour of this whole facility yet, I don't think anything would have surprised me though, based on the images I've seen on the client website. Over my right shoulder I noticed a large window covered with a thin veil of sheer, opening into what appeared to be a locker-room. My eyes caught movement and it appeared to be a middle-aged man, changing into an outfit like a little girl would wear. 

Russ went in for a closer look as Mistress elegantly clicked into the kitchen in a pin-up styled dress. 

"Did you two kids have a good time?" She cheerful asked out loud, like Russ and I were two teenagers returning from the movies. 

I blushed and lowered my eyes, squeaking out a little, "yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am."

Russell just head-motioned to the window, looking at Mistress with a WTF face. 

"Oh that. I have an appointment in ten minutes. He wants to be taken over "Mommy's" knee and spanked until he's crying like a little girl. I figured I'd make him dress like one too," Mistress declared to both of us as she shrugged her arms and giggled. 

What a wild, magical place this was. I never wanted to leave!

slave sarah 

xoxo

Continued in: A quiet night in

  

 

Objectification

Continued from: Sarah's First Post

A post from Sarah

Almost 24-hours had passed, since I found myself bare naked in the palour of Mistress Andrea's Facility. I was being told to kneel, being told to keep my eyes down and how to position my arms. 

These were not requests, these were orders. I absolutely loved the simplicity of being told what to do. To not think, just obey.  

My clit jumped with each click of her high heels off the hardwood. Like a metronome of steady and commanding footsteps, when she approached and left me.

Since the first time I met her and she conducted her little "experiment", I cannot deny the fact that she tore a hole in the fabric of my identity. Despite her sexuality and her obvious gorgeousness, I'm just not attracted to women in that way. That is, until she started ordering me around, humiliating and degrading me...threatening to punish me. It has awoken something inside of me that I didn't know existed. 

My throbbing cunt is betraying me even now, as I sit here to type on Mistress' blog.

Carved from a corner of my bedroom, is my little WFH office. Between zoom calls, I've been trying to recount the events of yesterday afternoon, the first moment I had the privilege of calling Russell, 'Sir'.

It began with a different set of footsteps behind me. I knew it wasn't Mistress in her heels. I could also hear the distinct jingle of ice cubes in glass. 

Oh gawd! Oh I was so embarrassed and my god was he ever fucking hot! He sat and didn't acknowledge me, but glared toward my knelt state.

I was under instructions to keep my eyes lowered, which I did, but once Russell sat, I could see most of him. I didn't think it was possible to feel more naked, than fully naked, but I did. Being naked in a room with someone who is fully clothed is deathly vulnerable. My pussy betrayed me yet again, and started to slick my inner thighs. 

He smiled at me once, maybe to reassure me, before picking up his drink and taking a sip. He cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. 

"This is what you want?" He said, all raspy and sexy-like. His words were chosen carefully. It was almost a question, but had the tone of a statement. It was a masterful choice of words. It limited my control and decision making, although I did answer him. 

"Yes please, Sir," I squeaked out, without hesitating. 

I trembled when he came to help me up, using a firm grip on my wrist. I was taken to the corner of the room, to the padded apparatus affixed to the wall. He cinched-down the binds on my wrists until I was forced onto my toes, then he cuffed my ankles in place. 

Kneeling in a room, anticipating what's to come, provides a great deal of time to scan and interpret visual stimulus. It was not lost on me that Mistress positioned my body facing the coffee table. It was not lost on me that the blinds to this room were left open and a-top the coffee table, were two clothespins and a flogger. 

And now, I was at my most vulnerable of the session, bound, exposed and naked, in the presence of this intimidatingly, gorgeous man. 

He knelt down as he approached me, running a finger along the tops of my feet and toes, finally onto my toenails. 

"Keep these painted for me, baby pink," was all he said. 

I replied with a, "yes Sir." I was dreadfully embarrassed that my toenails were not done for him.

He ran a muscular hand up my leg and thigh and onto my pussy which he grabbed in a fist motion. I gasped out loud as he did. 

"Keep this shaved bald for me, slut." He hissed. "Your asshole too, hairless."

I groaned out loud in pure, desperate arousal. It was involuntary. I was such a whore to have groaned like that. But fuck me! He was inspecting me! Claiming me! Like my Master had just purchased me at some seedy auction. 

He continued his horrible and beautiful objectification, cupping my tits in his palms for a light bounce. Then his fingertips reached for both of my nipples. It was more of a swirl than a pinch. 

"These need to be a little more responsive." He said out loud. 

Not knowing what to do, or if this was a moment I should speak, I blurted out a, "I'm sorry Sir, I'll do better for you." 

He returned to the couch to sit, sipping from his drink once more. 

He cradled the cold, wet glass in his hands long enough to achieve his objective. He walked back to me and held my nipples with his freezing cold fingertips. They hardened instantly, and goosebumps fluttered across my body. 

"That's better." He commented, in a cavalier tone, before retrieving both clothespins and affixing them to my erect nipples. There was the sharp pain I was wanting, or at least my cunt was wanting. Now we were getting somewhere. 

Master picked up the flogger next, and proceeded to whip my stomach, ribs and tits with the vicious strands of leather. He whipped my tits and nipples until the clothespins came flying off from the impact, causing me to shriek in pain.

"You may scream. There is no shame in it." He calmly counselled, as I struggled to catch my breath through my whimpers. 

Master undid my bondage next, catching me as I was about to collapse down onto the floor. I guess being on my toes for so long had my legs shaky and spent. But on my knees in a puddle of my own degradation, was exactly where he wanted me.  

He controlled my wrists, and he was no longer in his pants, as he dragged me to the middle of the room. 

Nothing was said. He just mashed his erect penis against my lips, until I opened and took him into my mouth. Master has a lovely sized cock. I wasn't sucking it...he was fucking my face and throat with it. 

 

There was lots of beautiful gagging and gucking sounds, which only degraded me further. 

I tried to use my hands at one point, on his cock. I was quickly and sharply slapped in the face. Not at all violently, it was corrective. I need correction in this role, I have dreamed of being corrected in this way. 

He simply said, "No!" After the slap. Like he was scolding a dog. I carried on with only my mouth, like the filthy slut that I am, until Master came down my throat and onto my face. 

After this, I was told I was getting another whipping. 100 lashes to be exact, on my bare bum, back and thighs. Master was very specific this time, with what he intended to do. Likely because I was once again bound into a stress pose, to be left and to anticipate this flogging. Only this time, I was wearing his cum on my face, proudly!

slut sarah

xoxo

Continued in: All Three Holes