“I – “
Her rear was, of course, bare, since she was having her temperature taken, and it was a ripe target for her Mommy to swat, which she showed absolutely no hesitation in doing, as she chided in all seriousness, “You are not old enough to talk.”
That had Alicia clamping her mouth shut and absolutely fuming.
“Is it an emergency? Is it life or death? Or are you just going to complain about the thermometer, which is going to get you nowhere anyway, and only serve to annoy me, which is probably not your best goal in this situation?”
Alicia got the hint, although she desperately wanted to throw something. But she couldn’t, because her arms were still bound above her head. Damnit!
Mommy undid her arms and legs, then proceeded to massage both of them. “I know that this isn’t the most optimal of situations. It makes your shoulders ache. I’m working on something else, and I’ll get it in place for you as soon as I can.”
Alicia was intrigued. She spoke as if from experience. She would love to just sit down and talk with Mommy some time, woman to woman. She wondered if that was even possible now, though.
She tried to sit up, but was pushed back down. “You must need to be changed by now.”
Licia was afraid that she didn’t. Her bladder was about to explode, but she didn’t. And she was worried that her Mommy wasn’t going to be any too happy when she found out.
And she wasn’t. She stood at the end of the crib, which she’d lowered, with her hand covering Alicia’s dry mons. “You know you can’t hold it forever. And I do have a way of making you pee. It’s not very pleasant – and no, it’s not a spanking. That’s just... not something I do. Spanking someone until they pee just doesn’t do anything for either of us, I don’t think. But there are other ways. I’m going to check you after dinner, and again before you go to bed tonight, and if you haven’t wet by then, then you’re going to have left me no choice but to employ my last ditch effort. And I can tell you, young lady, that you won’t like it.”
What could she mean? Alicia wondered.
When she was brought down to dinner, toddling like her namesake from the bulkiness of her diaper and the stiffness of her legs having been held in one position for so long, she found out the first prong in her Mommy’s arsenal to get her to use her diapers: her dinner was entirely liquid, served in a baby bottle, while she was in a high chair that was built for an adult, while the rest of the small family, Ella included, sat at regular chairs at the dining room table, baby Alicia was stationed next to Mommy in her high chair, with an adult sized bib decorated with pink lambs on it around her neck and large bottle of some sort of liquid nourishment in front of her.
When she’d set it down in front of Alicia, Mommy had said quite sternly, “I want this gone before we’re done with dinner, Alicia.”
It was quite a lot of liquid. Luckily, Alicia was relatively thirsty, but still. It was something Ensure like, and it didn’t taste very good, so it wasn’t that easy to force down. Besides, she’d always had a terrible time drinking things she didn’t want to drink. Cold meds, or alcoholic drinks, it didn’t matter what the reason for drinking them was. She might actually get them down, but she’d see them again shortly.
The others were almost done with their plates – although Amy had ended up in the corner with a very well spanked butt on display for refusing to eat her green beans, Alicia was glad to see – and she was only half done with her bottle. She reached for it and forcibly chugged down another couple of swallows, dismayed to see how small a dent that made in the overall amount that was left. She chugged some more, and then more still, yet there was still a quarter of the bottle left.
Hopefully, there was some sort of dessert in the offing, or her ass was grass. Yet again.
There was. The delicious aroma of homemade apple crisp wafted to Alicia’s nose, and she strained to get more than a noseful, almost leaning out of her highchair while doing so.
“Uh-uh. You’ll not have any of that, Alicia. You’ve got your bottle to finish, and then it’s back to bed for you.”
That was absolutely no incentive to finish her bottle very quickly. She’d just time it so that she was swallowing the last of it as the last of the crisp was sliding into their gullets.
But her bladder was raging that it needed to be emptied, and it just wouldn’t shut up. What was worse was that Mommy had developed the tendency of reaching over and pressing on her tummy, as if to aggravate the situation further, when Alicia really didn’t need any help in that area. She felt as if she was going to split wide open as it was.
“Amy, do you think that you can come back to the table and finish your beans, or do I need to get the strap and lay you over the table right here and now for the naughty girl that you are?”
Alicia was rooting – silently, of course – for the strap. She was chanting it, actually, in her head, in time to the pulsating ache in her bladder. Strap! Strap! Strap!
Snuffling, Amy turned and replied, “I’ll eat my beans, Momma.”
Darn it! Alicia thought.
She did eat the hated green beans, but she also swallowed wrong and choked, and some of the milk she was drinking came out her nose. Everyone at the table laughed fit to bust a gut, or in Alicia’s case, a bladder. The instant she started to laugh, she began to pee uncontrollably, and she was so alarmed by that turn of events, yet so tickled by what had happened to Amy that she was both laughing and crying hysterically at the same time.
As a result, her Mommy, who wasn’t doing very well as stifling her own mirth, although she knew she should have been stricter with herself, was looking at her somewhat askance. “Alicia, are you alright?”
“Nooooooooooooo, Mommy, nooooooooooo!” That was about all she could get out around the uncontrollable chuckles and sobs.
Margot had a general idea what might be going on, so she helped Alicia away from the table and brought her back upstairs. She was still giggling and still peeing as she was being undressed. Wisely, Margot futzed around the room for a few minutes, until she thought she could tell that Alicia was probably done both laughing and peeing, although now she was crying in earnest.
Margot secured Alicia for a changing, bound her arms and tethered her legs back. “Shhh-shhh-shh. Why are you crying, babygirl?”
“Cause I wet myself!”
“Silly! That’s what you’re supposed to do! Mommy’s changing you right now so you’re all clean for the next time. Mommy’s not mad.”
Alicia had never thought that part of the reason she was so upset about doing what she knew was expected of her was that she thought the result might be displeasing to Mommy, somehow. But, of course, it wasn’t. So that reason to be tense, to be concerned, was gone.
But she still had her own issues, as an adult, dealing with being regressed to the point of truly letting go of her own adult control of her bodily functions. And she knew that Mommy wasn’t about to let her retain control. Mommy would always demand complete surrender. From the start. No quarter given, not for a newbie, not for anyone.
And it was just what she needed.
She kept up a quiet patter the entire time she was changing Alicia, telling her what she was doing – using Pooh wipes, because that was all she had on hand, and using them all over her, not just where she might need to, but in every nook and cranny, and realizing at that point that Alicia had no pacifier in, which she immediately rectified.
Then she slathered Desinex all over her and slid a diaper beneath her and got out a set of brand new lightish pink summer footie pajamas and set them to one side. Then she reached onto the changing table and grabbed the tube of KY.
Without having to lean forward at all, somehow Alicia found her legs pulled even further back, and her bottom even that much more exposed, lifted pretty much clear off the mattress. Mommy had a wooden ruler in her hand, which she cracked down on those rounded cheeks ten times, extremely hard, right in a row, with no let up, no hesitation whatsoever.
Alicia was bey
ond herself with the pain. She couldn’t form a coherent thought. She couldn’t deal with it.
And then she felt herself lowered down, just enough, still on excruciating display, though, when a finger dipped itself into her well then pressed itself into her bottom, and another finger coated itself in her juices and brought them up to her engorged button and began circling it over and over, just around it, never over it. Around and around the outside, never quite allowing that satisfying, full blown taste. Teasing endlessly.
“This is what you need, Alicia. I knew it as soon as I heard your voice on the phone. You need strict discipline. You need schedules and routines and expectations and consequences, and that’s exactly what you’re going to get here. Uncompromisingly and unfailingly. I will blister your bottom each and every time you make a mistake. I will make every decision for you, and you will obey me without question. You can relax and let me take care of you, in the most intimate of ways. In this way,” she flicked her finger once, very quickly, over the veriest tip of her clit, “and in every other way. You can surrender all of you to me. I’ll take care of you.”
Another desperately short flick. Alicia was panting and writhing, as much as her bonds would allow, which wasn’t much.
That finger in her bottom pressed in slowly, then out quickly, then in slowly, the rhythm quickening maddeningly. She heard a click, which she realized too late was the KY tube, and before she knew it she felt those crossed over fingers at the opening of her bottom again, but she didn’t have time to tense up before they were pressed into her and she felt her bottom flower opening more than she ever thought it could. It didn’t quite hurt, but it certainly felt... uncomfortable.
Pleasantly uncomfortable, not that she was going to admit that to anyone.
“Good girl,” Mommy whispered as she pulsed those fingers in and out slowly, inexorably. Alicia knew that as soon as they withdrew completely, that they were just going to be pressed back in, so few seconds of respite were a vicious lie. It was almost better if they’d just been kept in all the time.
Almost.
“You can come any time now, darling girl. No time limit. No requirements. Those will, I promise you, come later.”
Time limits? Requirements? As pertained to orgasms? Those were things she preferred not to dwell on right now. Licia preferred to think of how her Mommy’s finger was now frequently circling over the top of her clit, and then around, and then over the top and around, and then around the top and down, lazily caressing her while those two punishing fingers claimed her bottom, reminding her that she was owned, thoroughly and completely. Every time she shifted, she pulled at a padded bond that was attached to her crib, and her bottom was still sitting on a thick, clean diaper that would soon encase it entirely, along with a footy pj. She’d been fed a bottle for dinner, while sitting in a high chair, and more of the same treatment awaited her tomorrow, especially since classes didn’t start until next week. She’d been spanked and/or paddled multiple times today, and she couldn’t even be sure that she wasn’t going to be spanked again before she was put down for the night.
Those thoughts – even just the juvenile jargon - thinking about how she was going to be punished and treated for at least the next four years – were what sent her over the edge, and her Mommy milked every last sensation out of her, not letting up until she’d flown into the sun several times more than Alicia would have even thought she could.
Finally, exhausted, sore bottomed, swaddled and bound, plugged and pacified, she was put to bed for the night just a little past six thirty, mobile playing in the background, monitor engaged so that her Mommy could hear her in case there was any kind of a problem, and she slept through the night without so much as opening an eye.
* * *
Six am, however, came crashingly early, even with a dimmer switch.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Alicia diligently tried to get back to sleep, but wasn’t going to be allowed to.
Margot turned the dimmer up a bit more to help her acclimate quicker. Breakfast in this household waited for no one. While still bound, Margo stripped her entirely, loosing one limb at a time, as needed, then gave her a quick bed bath, noting that her diaper was once again dry, but not saying anything to Alicia. Sometimes it took a little while, mostly for the girls, to get used to how things were. It was surprising to her – she would have bet it would have been the boys that would have had a harder time coping with diapers, but, in her vast experience, it had always been the girls, perhaps because they were trained to be a bit more personally fastidious.
Regardless, she did press on Alicia’s tummy a bit, eliciting a groan or two, and she could feel how distended her bladder was. She put on some extra soakers, which would make it just that much harder for her to walk, and would encourage her to use the diapers for their intended purpose. Breakfast would, again, be a liquid for her. Until she became more used to the diapers, that’s the only thing she’d be eating. If she needed more encouragement, that would be arranged, but Margot favored letting her girls find her own way, in this, as much as possible.
Today, she would simply be hanging around the house. They weren’t going to go anywhere for a while yet. Margot knew that classes – and Alicia’s classes in particular – hadn’t started, so she was going to keep her close to home. Eventually, not only would Alicia be going off to classes, but she would also be going out with Margot – under very tight restrictions, of course.
So she dressed Alicia in a frilly pink romper. She had some items that she kept from girl to girl, but Margot knew what it was like to always have hand me downs, so she had a friend who was a whiz of a seamstress on commission. One of the first things she’d done was get Alicia’s measurements and talk to Paula about what she wanted for new outfits for Alicia. She already had most of the usual “little girl” accoutrement. She had toys and games (although she did NOT have video games) and every Disney video ever released, plus every and any other kid video she could get her hands on. She had finger painting and Play-Doh and clay and blocks and almost any toy any kid could want.
Of course, naughty girls didn’t get to play. So a lot of the toys were very new, because a lot of the girls found themselves spending more time in the corner – or over their Momma’s lap - than playing with the toys.
Alicia was younger than all of her girls – although she’d found out that there would be a couple of girls returning this fall who hadn’t arrive yet – and at least one boy. So that would change the dynamic of the house a bit. She wouldn’t be doing as much playing as most of the people in the house, and Margot would be enlisting some of them in helping her take care of Alicia.
Breakfast was at least as awful for Alicia as dinner had been the night before. Her only consolation was that Kennedy and Amy were both eating heaping bowls of oatmeal, which looked almost as disgusting as her “formula” tasted.
And she had to pee.
She really, really had to pee, and she couldn’t seem to make herself do it, despite the fact that last night hadn’t seemed to have fazed Mommy in the least. It just... wouldn’t happen.
Maybe she’d gotten herself to the point where she couldn’t!
By the time breakfast was done, she was in tears. She’d finished her bottle, because she knew she had to, but that didn’t do anything good for her bladder, and she felt trapped.
It surprised her that Kennedy was the one who came over to help her, rather than Mommy, who seemed to have her hands full with Amy, who was throwing a bit of a fit, and found herself upended over Momma’s lap getting the thrashing of a lifetime, right there in the breakfast nook.
Kennedy didn’t do a lot, but what she did helped Alicia enormously. She didn’t take her out of the high chair, but she did hold her hand and talk to her in a very soft, loving tone. “It’s hard at first. It is. You’re taught all your life to look for a bathroom and never to soil your pants. It’s horribly hard. But it’s different here. It’s okay here. I’ll take care of you, Momma will
take care of you, even Amy will take care of you. Everyone will. It’s never a bother; never a problem. It’s what you’re supposed to do. There will never be any recriminations. You can feel free. Freer than you’ve been in probably fifteen years, since you were potty trained all those years ago. Let yourself enjoy it. It’s a wonderful gift to let someone else be responsible for that intimate part of yourself again. Don’t torture yourself. There’s really no need.”
It was all Alicia needed, and all she would need for the rest of her time with Mommy. She let go, completely.
And there were no recriminations.
Mommy was done with Amy, whose blistered butt was again on display in the corner of the room, which wasn’t easy since it was a roundish room. She complimented Kennedy on her manner with Alicia, then took Alicia up to her room to change her, praising her for learning how to let go.
The morning passed relatively uneventfully, with Alicia playing quietly on a blanket in the parlor, where Amy and Kennedy were studying at the table and Mommy was reading on her chaise.
At nine on the dot, as the grandfather clock in the corner was striking the hour, Mommy got up and helped Alicia back up to her room for her nap. Alicia didn’t necessarily want to go. No, she really didn’t want to go. She’d had enough sleep for four people, as far as she was concerned, not that she was really going to wage much of a protest. She’d gone several hours today without getting her butt into trouble, and she was entirely unwilling to break the record.
She found herself plugged and pacified and bound and bundled, warm and secure and asleep within seconds, damn it! What was it about this place that made her so sleepy so easily?
Mommy again had to wake her from her nap, she hadn’t, as she’d feared, been bored and awake the whole time, she was wet again, too, so her body was truly taking over and taking care of things itself. Mommy changed her and praised her again for letting go like a good girl, but it had been a while, she’d noticed, since Alicia had gone number two.
Mistress Mommy Page 5
