by Wild, Lucy
Stepping into the dress, Laura looked down at herself. “I look so young,” she said, noticing the nappy protruding under the hem of the dress.
“That is the entire point,” he replied. “This system of mine is based on interacting with your inner child. Yours was starved of boundaries at an early age and all your problems have stemmed from there. You now have boundaries in place and you are responding to them, even if you do not feel that to be the case. Do you feel calmer perchance?”
Laura frowned for a moment. “I do not think so.”
“Really? Yet you have agreed to nappy and dummy? You change at my merest bidding, stripping before me as if it were the most natural thing in the world just because I tell you to.”
She frowned again but said nothing.
“Lie down. I need to change you before this evening’s entertainment.”
“I have not wet myself papa. I have been good.”
“That is not the point. I wish to change you. Lie down.”
He hoped she would not call his bluff again, this being the only way he could think of to closely observe her core, see if his feelings for her were real or imagined.
She did as he bid, pushing her legs into the air automatically as Westall untied the knots holding her nappy in place. “You are quite red and sore,” he said, pushing her legs further up and looking closely at her posterior.
“It is due to your spanking papa,” she replied.
“Whatever the cause, some cream is required. Close your eyes and remain still.”
Laura did as requested and he waited until he was certain she was obeying him before quietly reaching into his jacket pocket for his vial of soothing balm. He coated his fingers in the cold cream before smearing it over her buttocks. She gasped but kept her eyes closed, allowing him time to closely examine her core. He found it impossible to resist moving his fingers up towards the tops of her thighs but stopped himself before going too far.
“You may rub the cream in,” he said, “but keep your eyes closed.”
Laura set her feet on the ground and kept her knees apart. She reached between her legs and gathered up the cream, beginning to slide it over her core slowly, spreading her lips apart to reveal what lay within to his eyes.
He ached to touch her but remained still, his face reddening as he fought his primal urges. He watched as she stroked her engorged nub with her left hand whilst her hand worked slowly lower. He silently urged her to push her finger into herself but just as she seemed about to, he realised what he was doing.
“That is enough,” he said, yanking her hands away. “Babygirls do not get to masturbate. That is a sin.”
As she opened her eyes, he grabbed her, pulling her to her feet. “You should spend the evening in the chapel begging for forgiveness.”
He watched her walk away, the nappy visible under her dress. He knew he needed advice so sought out Mrs Flanders, finding her by the fireside in her private chamber. “May I come in?” he asked in the doorway.
“Of course Mr Westall,” she replied, setting down her needlework. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
“I come with a question,” he said, sitting opposite her and folding his arms. “If you would indulge me.”
“It is about Laura isn’t it?”
He was shocked. “How on earth do you know that?”
“I am no fool. I saw how you looked at her. Indeed I also saw how she looked at you, though she does not yet realise what it is she needs in life.”
“And what is that?”
“Why you of course, you dunderheaded fool.”
“But I could not continue along this path could I? Not after last time.”
“Oh Edward, you are still hurting aren’t you?”
He nodded but did not answer.
“Yes your fiancée cheated on you with a papa. I have no doubt it was a painful experience. But surely it is time to move on. She is gone. He is gone. There can be no harm in loving again.”
“But what if…”
She reached across and slapped the back of his hand. “Enough! If you love Laura, you should tell her. She would make as good a little for you as you would a papa for her.”
He stood up, allowing a small smile to cross his lips. “Your advice is as sound as always Mrs Flanders. I am in your debt.”
“Remember that next time we discuss my pay,” she replied as she returned to her needlework.
Chapter 11 – Laura
It took Laura a long time to get to sleep that night. The whispering of the other women in the nursery was difficult enough to cope with, as was the occasional moan coming from the beds at the far side of the room. The fact that she was laid in an oversized cot having been tucked in by the housekeeper did not help either. Nor did her self consciousness about wearing only a nappy to bed. But worst of all were her racing thoughts. She could not stop thinking about Mr Westall. The look on his face when she’d had her hands between her legs, she would not forget that for a very long time.
It was the first time he had not looked furious with her. She had glanced up at him through half closed eyes as he stared at her core, seeing a hungry look to him, as if he wanted to ravish her there and then.
When she did finally sleep, her dreams were filled with thoughts of him. His hand slid over her posterior again, moving into her as she moaned in place. Her mouth open as he thrust himself past her lips. Tied to the doctor’s table whilst he examined her closely.
By the time she awoke she felt overwhelmed with lust. She looked around her and noticed the nursery was empty. Did I oversleep? She climbed over the side of the cot and jumped down to the floor. Where did my dress go?
“Lazybones wear no clothes,” Mrs Flanders said from the doorway. “A day spent naked should ensure you are up on time from now on. Come on, we are going on a field trip.”
“No, but I cannot. I am naked.”
“You have a nappy do you not?”
“That is hardly suitable attire for travel.”
“Listen to your inner child. It does not care about such things, only about pleasure and the present, nothing more.”
“I am not a child!”
“I beg to differ. Adults do not stamp their feet when they do not receive enough gifts from their parents. Adults do not scream and hurl abuse when they do not get their own way. Adults do not get up late. Should I go on?”
“Please Mrs Flanders. Please find me something to wear.”
“What kind of person would I be if I gave in to begging? Now come over here and have breakfast.”
She pulled out her large breast and Laura shook her head. “No, please, not again.”
“You will be spanked if you refuse.” She took a step closer to Laura. “Besides, I know you are hungry.”
She grabbed Laura’s wrist and held her in place. “I will not,” Laura said.
“You will!”
Laura felt the older woman’s hands on the back of her head, pushing her downwards. Her mouth opened without her realising and then the nipple was past her lips and she was gulping the warm fluid down, sucking at the nipple and at times allowing her tongue to slide around it in concentric circles.
Her insides tingled as she heard Mrs Flanders’ breath change, becoming more laboured as she continued to lick at her nipple. She realised she was inadvertently teasing her and felt a tiny dash of power for the first time since arriving. She moved her hand up to the other breast, testing her reaction as she squeezed I harshly. Mrs Flanders said nothing.
Deciding to see how far she could take things, she slid her hand up to the strap on Mrs Flanders’ shoulder, sliding the dress free to expose her chest in its entirety.
She began to play with the globe of flesh so recently revealed, all the while continuing to suckle. She squeezed the nipple between her fingers, her own nipples stiffening as she did so.
Mrs Flanders stroked her hair. “That’s a good little,” she said, her hand moving down to Laura’s breasts, cupping them in her hand, her palm brush
ing back and forth over the hardened nipples.
Her hand slid down towards Laura’s nappy but just as it began to reach inside Mr Westall’s voice reached them from downstairs. “We are waiting Mrs Flanders.”
Mrs Flanders yanked her hand away as if it had been bitten, pulling up her dress in an instant. She dragged Laura downstairs, Mr Westall stood in the entrance hall with the other littles who all whispered and pointed at Laura, laughing at her lack of clothing.
“Come on,” Mr Westall said, opening the door and leading them outside. Laura paused to slip on her shoes and considering turning back but Mrs Flanders blocked the way into the house, leaving her no choice but to follow the other littles.
She felt so ashamed she could hardly bear it, her body enclosed only by the cloth around her hips, her breasts, her stomach, her legs, all on show to any who might care to look.
They reached a gate at the edge of the estate and passed through. Before them lay a green valley and down at the bottom of a rolling hill was a small rural village.
“We are not going there?” she said to the little next to her. “Are we?”
“We are,” the little hissed back.
“But I am naked. Please help me.”
Mr Westall held up a hand to stop the group before turning to face Laura. “Will you respect your father from now on?”
“Yes, God, anything. Just let me return to the house.”
“And what of his new wife, Maria? Will you respect her?”
Laura wanted to say yes, anything to end this madness. But no matter how hard she tried, her mouth refused to form the word.
“I thought not,” Mr Westall continued. “On we go.”
Laura’s shoulders slumped as they walked on. She covered her chest with her arms as they reached the village. She hoped to hide amongst the other littles but it was not enough, the villagers pointing and whispering as they saw a woman in her twenties walk past in a nappy and a pair of Mary Janes and nothing else.
“Does the baby want a bottle?” some wag shouted out.
“Better not, looks like she still wets the bed,” someone else shouted.
“She can suck on something of mine instead of a bottle,” a man with a thin moustache said as she passed him by.
“Oh my goodness,” Laura muttered to herself, her cheeks burning red. By the time they stopped, they had gathered quite a crowd around them and she was relieved to pass through a door into a doctor’s surgery.
“In we go,” Mr Westall said, pointing towards a cramped waiting room. “Ah, Dr Jones, we have come for the check ups.”
A tall, dark haired gentleman had appeared from a side door at the sound of their entry and he shook Mr Westall’s hand firmly. “Good to see you again Westall. You first.” He pointed at one of the littles and she followed him through the door whilst the others sat down on the faded leather sofas that lined the walls of the waiting room.
“What are we doing here papa?” Laura asked, hiding as best she could in the corner of the room.
“Making sure you are all fit and healthy and getting some measurements taken.”
“Measurements?”
“Mrs Flanders, a dummy to silence her if you please.”
A dummy was shoved into Laura’s mouth and she was left sucking it as she listened to the ticking clock on the wall, wondering just what she had done to deserve being treated in such a way.
The doctor took one girl after another through the curtain and as they emerged, Mrs Flanders sent them out to find their own way back to the house. Finally only Laura remained and the doctor pointed at her without smiling. “Your turn.”
Chapter 12 – Edward
Edward stood up when the doctor called for Laura. “Return with the littles, Mrs Flanders,” he said. “I shall chaperone her through the appointment.”
“Very good Mr Westall,” she replied, a hint of a surprise crossing her features. He wasn’t surprised. Every new little who was examined by the doctor was accompanied by Mrs Flanders. It saved any whisper of impropriety from making the rounds. He had no doubt she was wondering why he had chosen to join Laura during her appointment though her professionalism was such that she chose not to argue with him in public. He was glad, it saved him having to explain himself. He wasn’t quite sure what he would have said.
“Into the chair,” the doctor said as they passed through into the examination room. Edward looked at the chair he’d heard talked about though he had not himself seen it before. Similar to a standard wooden chair, it differed in one important respect. Within the seat a perfect circle had been cut out. “Clothes off first,” the doctor added as she moved across to the chair.
“What clothes?” she muttered as she reached down and pulled at the corners of her nappy. Edward was pleased to see she did not attempt to reason with the doctor, acquiescing at once with his command. She was changing already.
As the nappy fell to the floor, he could not help staring at her body, looking down at her core as she hopped up onto the chair, he bottom sinking into the hole in the chair. “What is this for?” she asked, pulling the dummy from her mouth.
“To gain the measurements needed,” the doctor replied. “Legs apart.”
Edward watched as her knees were tied to the sides of the chair, her core half on view from her slightly sunken position. He realised as he looked at her that there was no turning back. He had to have her. If she passed the medical he would ask her to marry him, to become his little for the rest of their lives.
“Name?” the doctor asked, tying her wrists to the arms of the chair before picking up a notepad.
“Why am I being tied in place?”
“To stop you from falling if the measuring causes hysteria. Name?”
“Laura Rothsfield.”
“Age?”
“Twenty.”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Must I answer?”
“Yes you must. Have you ever had sex?”
“No, never.”
“Be honest. A beautiful woman like you with a body like that. Surely you must have done.”
“I have not and I am offended by the suggestion sir.”
“I merely have to be sure.” He took a tape measure and wrapped it around her left breast, making a note of the marker. He did the same with her right before taking note of the size of a multitude of her body pats. Her nipples, her lips, her fingers, all neatly recorded in his notepad. Finally, he stepped back and took hold of a handle on the wall. “You may feel a little discomfort Speak out if it becomes too much to cope with.”
He began to slowly wind the handle in a circle. “What are you doing?” Laura asked as the sound of cranking and clicking filled the air. She realised a moment later and Edward observed her reaction closely when the brass cylinder rose from beneath the chair and edged upwards between her buttocks.
“Let me go!” Laura yelled, fighting against the bonds holding her tightly in place.
“I will not,” the doctor replied bluntly. “I must first ascertain the measurements I need.” He continued slowly turning the handle.
“What measurements can you possibly find from such an intrusion?”
“How much you can fit inside you of course.”
As the cylinder continued its inexorable journey upwards, Laura gasped, the device easing its way up and into her bottom. She could not move away from it, remaining trapped in the chair as it moved upwards. She let out a shriek as the tip of it pushed into her posterior at last. “Oh my word,” she moaned. “That hurts.”
“You barely have an inch inside you,” the doctor replied. “Are you telling me that is all you can take? Your papa will not be happy.”
“No,” she said, looking as if her pride had been hurt. “I can take far more. It just hurts.”
“I know but this is to stretch you ready for your life as a little. The record is seven inches. Shall we see if you can top that?”
He cranked the handle again and the cylinder moved deeper into her. Edw
ard watched, feeling his member stiffen at the thought of it being him easing into her instead. She looked as if se was torn between pain and pleasure, her body shuffling but her frantic attempts to escape her bonds fading away as she let out a low groan. The cranking continued and she fell silent, rocking slightly in place as the cylinder seemed to vanish inside her.
“My goodness,” the doctor said as he stopped the handle at last, looking at her panting and reddened face. He turned to Edward. “Would you believe she has nine inches inside her? That’s a new record.”
“What do you think of that Laura?” Mr Westall asked, looking across at her.
“Deeper,” she growled, surprising him by the hunger in her voice. The doctor blinked before laughing and turning back to her.
“Patience my dear, you may feel differently when we begin the second measurement.”
“Second one?” she gasped, still rocking in place.
“Indeed.” The doctor wheeled over a trolley with a metal pipe sticking forwards from the edge facing towards her. On the end of the pipe was a long rubber cylinder with a bulbous head. Rings marked off each inch along its length. The tip was placed directly between her legs, just touching her core. “Here we go,” the doctor continued, turning a handle connected to the side of the pipe.
The rubber cylinder moved forwards, bending slightly as it nudged into the entrance to her. She let out a deep low groan, wincing as it pushed past her entrance, clearly stretching her painfully before she was able to widen enough to comfortably accommodate it. “That’s an inch,” Mr Westall said. “How does that feel?”
“More,” she moaned, blinking as if lost in a daydream. “I need more.”
In response the doctor continued turning the handle, the cylinder slowly working its way deeper into her. Her expression changed when it passed the five inch marker, animal lust seeming to take over her body. She writhed on the chair, clearly in the midst of the hysteria the doctor had warned her about. “More,” she snarled again.
The doctor turned to Edward with a bewildered expression on his face. “She has nine in the rear and eight in the front. I have never known anyone to do that before. Whoever becomes her papa will be very happy indeed. Absolutely incredible.”
