by Lucy Wild
The girls nodded. Laura sat with her dummy in place, feeling utterly ridiculous. This was a madhouse. For him to stand in front of such innocent ears and proclaim the best way to suck a man’s member, it was insanity. There could be no other word for it.
Glancing around her, Laura marvelled at the fact that none of the other women seemed to mind the subject of the lecture. He had arrived just minutes after Fiona, striding to the front of the class and calling out for silence. “Get that dummy back in your mouth!” he had almost screamed at Laura. She noticed the object in question for it took the place of the inkwell on her desk. With it in her mouth she listened as he announced loudly, “You all need to know how to suck cock.”
“You need to know how to pleasure your husband to be,” he added. “Sarah, up here at once.”
A short blonde haired woman stood up and walked from the back of the room to stand before Mr Westall. “How would you suck a cock, Sarah?”
“I do not know papa. I have only done it once.”
A ripple of laughter washed over the room. “Only once? How do you expect to please your husband if you have only done it once? Would you roast beef for his family having only attempted it a single time?”
He rang a bell on his desk and an old man walked in, looking at least sixty and possibly older. “This is Mr Godfrey,” Westall said. “He has been teaching my littles how to suck cock for nearly forty years.”
The old man shuffled across to Sarah and nodded to her. “On your knees my girl.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I will not go near his wrinkly old thing.”
“Oh dear,” Mr Westall announced to the room. “She embarrasses herself and me by declining the education Mr Godfrey can provide.”
He grabbed hold of Sarah and bent her over the front desk, whipping up her dress and tugging her knickers down to her knees. “You wicked girl!” he cried as he began to spank her, the sight painful enough to make Laura wince as she watched. “You have offended me and Mr Godfrey. You naughty girl! And what’s this?” He paused, moving his hand down between her thighs. “You are wet. Somehow I think your disgust is for show. How many times have I said there is no need to worry about what society might think whilst you are here. This is a safe place for you to let go of what you think people might say and do what you know you desire. Now get on your knees like the good man said.”
Sarah sank slowly to her knees, her knickers held against the floor as Mr Godfrey nodded down at her whilst reaching into his trousers. Laura could not help but gasp around her dummy as she stared. His member was truly enormous, rigid and almost purple at the tip, seeming to swell and pulsate as he pointed it towards Sarah’s mouth. “The skill is in the use of your tongue,” he said to the class, stroking the shaft as he did so. “Lots of saliva and good tongue work. Sarah, stick out your tongue and lick the entire length of me.”
Sarah did as he asked, running her tongue from the base to the very tip of him in a single long movement.
“That’s good. Bow run your tongue around the head. Pull back the skin a little with your hand. Here, you take hold of the shaft. That’s it. Now lick around the head and over that little hole. If you can taste a drop of salt, it’s a sign you are doing well.”
She followed his instructions, her cheeks turning pink as she did so. Laura watched in silence, unable to take her eyes from the sight.
“Now take it into your mouth, stretch your lips apart and angle your head so you can take it all the way in.”
Laura found herself becoming flushed as she watched. An image entered her head unbidden, that of Mr Westall standing before her like that, his member sliding towards the back of her throat until she gagged. She blinked the thought away, fanning her face as the room suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.
“You fit me all the way in on a first attempt,” Mr Godfrey said. “You are good at this. How many cocks has she sucked Mr Westall?”
“She says only the one.”
“A likely story. No doubt she does not want to shame herself but she should be proud. She is clearly quite the expert. Oh my goodness, that feels splendid.”
He had taken hold of Sarah’s head as he spoke and commencing sliding her back and forth along the length of his shaft. He moved her faster as her nostrils flared, clearly fighting for breath. Laura felt her own breath catch in her throat and she glanced up at Mr Westall to find he was staring intensely back at her.
“Keep going,” Mr Godfrey said, shoving himself into Sarah’s mouth. “I am almost there. That’s it. That’s it.” His shaft convulsed as he pulled back and then he rammed into her mouth a final time, remaining still as he let out a long groan. Sarah coughed as he fell back out of her a moment later. She blinked as if realising she was being watched for the first time.
“Well done,” Mr Godfrey said. “A capital demonstration. You could all do far worse than learn from this one here.”
Sarah returned to her seat to a round of applause which Mr Westall cut short. “Enough,” he said, silencing them with a wave of his hand. “I think that is enough excitement for you all. Off for a nap right now.”
Laura filed out with the others but Mr Westall stopped her. “A word with you Laura,” he said and she turned to find him standing close behind her, his arms folded as he glared down at her. “I wish to speak to you about what happened in the playroom.”
Chapter 10
Edward led Laura away from the others as they headed to the nursery. She followed him into a dressing room, the walls containing dresses hanging from iron hooks which lined the walls. On the left hand side of the door as they entered were the shortest outfits designed for babygirls, through longer outfits until ballgowns filled the wall to the right hand side of the door.
“I think it is time we change you into something more suitable to a woman lacking maturity of mind,” he said, unhooking a short white frock with embroidered butterflies across the chest. “Change.” He pulled the dummy from her mouth. “Come on, get on with it.”
“Here? In front of you?”
“Are you questioning me?”
“No, of course not.”
“He raised his eyebrows.
“No papa,” she corrected herself.
“Good girl. Change.”
Laura sighed and he had to resist smiling. Her defences were all falling away at last. He watched as she pulled her dress off. Once naked apart from her nappy, she looked up at him with such innocent eyes that he struggled with himself as the urge to kiss her took over his mind. He managed to get control of himself but it took quite some effort.
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
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 brushing 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.
