Vanessa is a Goddess!

I am quite certain that you'll remember the sexy and alluring Vanessa? Summer's best friend and co-worker?

Yes, her!

Well let me tell you, I recently found out some fun facts about this little Goddess! 

She has been a great friend to Summer and was also her Maid of Honour. Since Vanessa was folded into our little joint enterprise of fetish sales, the three of us have been profiting handsomely from her used hosiery and heels, along with their "fans" content the two of them film in my Facility.  

I seem to recall Vanessa and my slave-girl Bella, getting very friendly at my wedding. Apparently the two of them fucked in the pool on my wedding night. No big deal...just two consenting adults having fun. 

She appeared once more during Summer's birthday party, as one of the slutty members of the Rogue Squadron. This was the first time I had the pleasure of exploring and playing with this little raven-haired vixen. 

Cassandra is riding her tongue in that scene, while my portrayal of "Darth Domina" was giving Summer a good rogering. I seem to recall Vanessa and I scissoring after this, as Cassie and Summer took a round out of each other. Again, no big deal...just a hot, lezdom foursome. I must say, Vanessa was quite the little handful!

All things considered, I was shocked when I learned that Vanessa was married. 

Summer told me over breakfast the other day. Somehow Vanessa's name came up.

"Oui, est mariee," Summer cutely chirped. 

But it didn't end there...oh wow it didn't end there! 

Vanessa, it would seem, is a lot more than she appears to be on the surface, hidden behind her smiling beverage service and comforting offer of a hot towel.  

You know what I thought!? Good for her! 

Summer kept saying "cocu" to me in French. She didn't have the English word for it. I had to look up "cocu". 

Ahh..."cuckold". Vanessa's hubby is apparently a cuckold? That's awesome. This just keeps getting better and better. 

Summer went on to explain that Derek, Vanessa's husband, is a short, slight, beta male to the core. He was one of these dot com people, who quickly made a boat-load of money at a young age because he is a computer nerd. They live in a great big house across town and from what I understand from Summer, it sounds like Vanessa runs the show in a blossoming FLR (Female-Led-Relationship).

Once again, good for her! My admiration for this little beauty just tripled. 

Maybe she's the type of Goddess that would call her poor hubby from her layover hotel room and let him listen to her being railed by a "bull"?

Or maybe he would be more actively involved? As active as his role appears here. Haha...

Oh gawwwd! If Vanessa keeps him locked in chastity too, she'll be my fuckin' idol! 

I've done some pretty Dommey things to silly male submissives in my day, but this would elevate her to the rank of "Goddess" in my eyes.  

This entire concept of our lovely Vanessa, managing a FLR, cuckold, domestic discipline relationship with her husband Derek is so enticing, I decided to embark on a spin-off blog series about her.

There's a twist. Her series will be 98% written by "Chatty", the A.I. language model and not by me. Sound fun? 

I have previewed some of what this Chatty is capable of and it laps me, several times over as far as creative writing goes. I still get to hold the puppet strings and prompt Chatty, then the AI takes it away.

See for yourself: 

Vanessa is a stunning and confident 29-year-old flight attendant who carries an air of elegance and allure. With her radiant smile and captivating presence, she effortlessly commands attention wherever she goes. Her striking beauty is accentuated by her lustrous, dark hair that cascades in gentle waves around her shoulders.

As a flight attendant, Vanessa embodies sophistication and professionalism, impeccably dressed in her tailored uniform that hugs her curves just right. Her perfectly tailored blazer, crisp white blouse, and form-fitting skirt effortlessly showcase her confident and stylish demeanor.

Vanessa's eyes, deep and expressive, reflect her intelligence and curiosity. They hold a mischievous spark, hinting at the depths of her adventurous spirit. Her lips, with their natural yet enticing curve, convey both warmth and sensuality, enticing those around her.

Her posture exudes confidence, with a poised stance that speaks of years of experience and refined grace. Vanessa moves with an effortless elegance, her every step exuding an alluring confidence that captivates those who cross her path.

Beyond her work as a flight attendant, Vanessa possesses a tantalizing secret—she indulges in the world of online fetishes, selling her worn hosiery to men who crave a piece of her sensuality. This secretive side of her persona adds an additional layer of intrigue and allure, reflecting her willingness to explore and embrace her desires outside the confines of societal norms.

In the world of online fetish sales, Vanessa adopts a pseudonym, preserving her identity while providing an alluring and intimate connection to those who seek her hosiery. This venture serves as a testament to her confidence and empowerment, allowing her to explore her sensuality in a unique and exciting way.

Vanessa's combination of beauty, confidence, and willingness to embrace her desires makes her a captivating figure—an enigmatic presence who navigates both the skies and the hidden realms of sensuality.

Vanessa possesses a passionate inclination toward hosiery and heels, indulging in these sensual accessories that enhance her allure and accentuate her feminine power. The interplay between hosiery and heels serves as a cornerstone of her personal expression and adds a tantalizing element to her persona.

"Navigates both the skies and the hidden realms of sensuality?!" C'mon! That's gold. 

Well done Chatty! You knocked that one out of the park. Lets just hope that "hidden realms of sensuality" means caging and cuckolding Vanessa's beta husband.

My dear readers, Chatty is very proper and polite. It does not wish to write explicit things and certainly will not condone degrading acts or "forced" BDSM activities. Sexual encounters as written by Chatty are much like a drugstore romance novel. 

"The powerful Christoff, with his manhood engorged, prepared to 'come aboard' the delicate petals of his sea-wench!" 

If it's ok with you, my 2% intervention in the storytelling will be to change some of these vanilla terms into something a little more attuned to this blog? There's a warning ahead of this blog anyway, we're covered. 

Ohhhh Vanessa, Vanessa...wherever shall your exploits take us! This is gonna be a fun!

Summer, Cassie and Bella, my fetish studio called "The Facility", Sarah Jane and Russell...they're all still around too and will definitely pop-up from time to time.    

Stay tuned!

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: The First Click in their Relationship

 

Cousins Punished Together - A Farmhouse Story

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

"Don't make me come up there!!" Usually means the purveyor of this threat is coming anyway! 

This was dreadfully evident for Julie and her naughty cousin Patrick, as the creak of the farmhouse staircase, echoed its eerie tune through the second floor. 

Julie and Patrick shared a knowing glance, no heel clicks, they thought to themselves. It must be Uncle Ed, or in Patrick's case...his "Daddy". 

They were in for it now!

Julie's tummy fluttered with butterflies and her heart beat in her chest with the pace of each firm smack from Ed's muscular hand. She thought to herself how humiliating and emasculating it must be for Patrick, a heterosexual adult male, to be spanked over the knee of an older, larger and stronger man. 

She wished she had been forced to watch, rather than sent to the corner. She was curious to see Patrick's little penis and berries, mushed against Ed's dress pants, likely caked with the remnants of dried cum. Patrick's cries for mercy and his pleads of "Daddy NOOO", made it clear to Julie that manually masturbating Patrick, right before his spanking, was probably inhumane on her part. 

Typically, she would find this amusing and likely curl her villainous lips into a smile, but she was frozen with the nervous anticipation that she would be next. 

When the deep smacking sounds finally stopped, the room was filled with the defeated sobs of Patrick, who was quickly ordered to take Julie's place in the corner. They passed one another during the exchange, both with lowered heads of vulnerability and embarrassment. 

Julie draped herself over her "Uncle's" knee and could feel her delicate, pastel dress swoosh upwards to expose her tender thighs. 

Her spanking was firm and thorough, the sound deadened by the absorption and protection that her panties provided. A style selected by Lorraine, to accompany Julie's "little girl" aesthetic. 

It wasn't long however, before these adorable little knickers were at her ankles and her Uncle's firm hand was connecting with her blushing, bare cheeks. 

Julie's emotions were conflicted with a dichotomy of embarrassment and pain, yet the comfort of knowing she was cared for and protected, even though it stung a little. 

When Julie was sufficiently warmed up, the two miscreants, both bowing their tear-streaked faces, were provided their underpants to put back on but nothing more. 

Under the duress of Ed's firm hand and over his knee, the two cousins had spilt the beans about everything that had transpired. Between sobs and pleas of mercy, the confessions flowed freely. 

"Daddy please no more! Julie made me put my tongue in her bum!" 

"Unckie Ed, I'm sorry! I caught Patrick playing with himself, then he called me a Dummy!" 

Two grown adults, reduced to squabbling children when it came time to be soundly spanked. The atmosphere was laced with shame and embarrassment. 

Ed firmly spoke, "follow me you two." Which signified their punishment was far from over. They were marched through the house in their skivvies, past the delicate womenfolk and the remaining "child", Claire, who had since recovered from her punishment and was seated in the living room. 

Next came the walk of shame out to the dreaded woodshed. Their heads on a swivel, scanning the horizon for nosey neighbours. 

The numbness of their undie-clad bottoms was just beginning to fade as a latent sting washed in. This meant that whatever was coming next, would hurt even more. 

Julie was up first this time, while Patrick was forced to nervously sit outside in his underpants, forced to listen to what awaited him in the woodshed. 

Julie was bent at the waist and fastened into the apparatus of discipline. Her bra was deliberately removed by her uncle so her "adolescent" little bobbies could dangle in the most humiliating of manner. 

Her panties were fully removed and hung on a hook inside the shed. The shamefully soaked gusset of the delicate cotton, swayed in the breeze that snuck through the partially open door. 

Ed provided her with a few firm smacks, softly explaining the reason she was being punished. Her gentle weeping was interrupted by the jingle of a belt buckle, followed by the snapping of supple leather through pant-loops. 

Patrick trembled from outside, listening to each of the strokes echo from within the woodshed, each snap was immediately followed by a yelp from poor Julie. 

He tried to keep count, but was too haunted by the commotion from within the shed. He knew it would soon be his turn and had lost count around the sixteen mark.  

The same as Julie experienced, Patrick's top and underpants were fully removed, creating a deeper sense of vulnerability as he was padlocked into the wooden stocks. 

Julie was directed to an opposing wall, to smush not only her erect nipples and little boobies against the wall, but also her nose. 

These two will definitely be sleeping on their tummies tonight!

They were both kept exposed and predominately naked, for the slow and gingerly walk back into the quiet sanctity of the home. 

Apart from Ed pointing to the corner and saying, "thirty minutes", nothing more was said. Lorraine was about to begin knitting on the couch, satisfied with what was presented before her. Claire played on the floor, her eyes occasionally leering toward the corner of the room. Ed returned to the "Dad" chair and resumed his newspaper, as an episode of Little House on the Prairie flickered from the TV. 

Order had been restored within the household. A strapped and naughty bare bottom in the corner was commonplace in this era, regardless of who was present to witness the dreadful humiliation. Julie and Patrick's shameful postures were a form of décor, complimenting the retro wallpaper. 

As the thirty minutes ticked to an end, the cousins were dismissed to the second floor with a stern warning from Lorraine. 

"Grounded to your rooms means grounded to your OWN rooms!" 

"Yes Ma'am," they replied in unison, before scurrying up the stairs. 

Julie's pussy was throbbing as intensely as her bare bottom was. She wasted no time in addressing this, as she surveyed the colour of her bum in the mirror. 

She wondered if Patrick was sobbing into his pillow, having been spanked and strapped by another man. 

It seems dear readers, that when you're a spanko...it is a gender-neutral affliction. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

The Farmhouse Series has paused for now. You can continue with a new series about a cuckold husband and his beautiful wife:

Vanessa is a Goddess!

 

  

 

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