Mistress Mommy

by Carolyn Faulkner

  The swat that landed on the rounded top of her bottom was a complete surprised, despite her position. Somehow she never really thought she’d end up with a spanking, which she realized was kind of stupid, but it hadn’t really crossed her mind; she was so caught up in how the environment and the entire setting was working on her mind and, frankly, her crotch, to even get that far ahead.

  “If I can’t hear your response clearly, then you didn’t respond to me, Alicia. House rule. My rule. And if you didn’t respond to me, then you’re going to be corrected, because I expect to be obeyed. You can be shy and answer quietly. But you must answer me clearly.”

  Alicia lifted her head and said, “Five or six.”

  “Hmmmm. I was actually thinking much younger than that, but I won’t push.” Margot helped Alicia off her lap very carefully and attentively, and they ascended the stairs as she had originally intended, as if nothing unusual had happened. When they reached the top, Margot turned to Alicia and said, “You may have noticed that this is not your usual boarding house. I don’t treat the people who stay with me as renters. They’re my daughters, and in the rare instance, sons. They treat me as if I’m their mother. I am very parental with them, and most of them stay with me throughout their college careers, some even though graduate school. I make sure they eat right, study, get enough sleep, keep up their grades, take their meds, everything that a mother would do, including, and most importantly, discipline, of varying types and degrees.”

  They had arrived at Amy’s room, where the girl was, as expected, standing in the far corner of the room with her nose in the corner and her pants and adult little girlish panties around her ankles. Amy apparently knew better than to make a sound of protest at the fact that she was on display to the older woman as well as a strange young woman she knew nothing about. Alicia heard not so much as a whimper from the poor young girl in the corner.

  Alicia’s entire lower body contracted at the sight. Not because she was excited to see another woman in that position, but rather because she was putting herself in Amy’s place, and it was easier for her to do so since she’d already been over Margot’s lap. She also took the time to look around Amy’s room and noticed that it wasn’t quite what one would expect from a college girl in the way of decoration.

  It was a tower room, so it had a beautiful window seat, complete with pastel cushions and lacy pastel curtains. It was the sunniest room she’d seen yet in the house. But it also was the little girliest. Pooh and Tigger were everywhere – all components of the bed, which was a canopied twin, were coordinating Pooh. The furniture had all been decorated with the tubby bear, as well as the wallpaper boarder, mobiles, posters and framed pictures. There was a Pooh nightlight, Pooh television and Pooh telephone.

  And Amy was twenty, Mistress had said.

  She also noticed that, just above Amy’s bed hung several implements that made it almost impossible for her to resist the urge to squirm where she stood – there was a pink paddle that looked like a small cutting board. It looked like anything but a toy. There was a long, lethal leather tawse, as well as a wooden spoon with a big hole in the middle, and one other incongruous item hanging from a pink ribbon: an adult sized pacifier, with, of course, a Pooh clip.

  Whatever was going on in this house, Alicia decided then and there that she wanted to be a part of it.

  Except, of course, the spankings.

  Margot watched Alicia’s reactions to Amy’s room carefully. She didn’t have a lot of girls – or boys – in the house right now. At one point she’d had entirely too many and she’d learned her lesson well. She’d been unable to pay attention to that many charges, and they had suffered from it, so she had kept the number of students she’d taken in down to the below five for the past several semesters and that had worked out very nicely. It kept the squabbling down to a minimum, and allowed her to concentrate her extreme attentions on those few she’d chosen.

  Alicia was interested to see that every door to every room on the second floor, which was where everyone who was staying at the house was, was open. Apparently no one was allowed to close their door. They peaked in on Kennedy, who was in a room that seemed fit for a five or six year old, decorated liberally in a princess theme, with Disney Princesses everywhere. Mistress walked into the room quietly and tucked the sleeping girl in tightly, then dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

  This fall semester would be Kennedy’s last in the house. She was to be married next spring, to a man of Margot’s choosing, and who agreed with a lot of her philosophies about how young ladies needed to be treated.

  Margot always tried to bring new girls in while the more experienced girls were still there. It seemed to calm the new arrivals to have older ones there to teach them the ins and outs of the household, although she knew for a fact that the thing they stressed the most was simply to obey the Mistress of the house.

  And they were very right.

  There were several other bedrooms on that floor, some occupied, some not, the very last of which Margot informed Alicia would be hers, if she decided to stay there. That door was closed, but Margot opened it so that Alicia could look in. It was a complete nursery done in a pastel pink and purple carousel theme, with an actual carousel horse in one corner, but with one corner left conspicuously empty. The crib was large enough to accommodate an adult, but was completely outfitted as if to receive an infant – bumper, blanket, mobile – the entire nine yards. One thing that stood out, though, was that one corner of the crib housed a triangular hubby in the same fabric as everything else. That looked distinctly out of place. And, hanging off the changing table, upon which was stacked row upon row of diapers, was a row of what were clearly implements very much like those that had hung above Amy’s bed, only they were also color coordinated to this baby room.

  “This is your room, Alicia, if you want it,” Margo whispered into Alicia’s ear from directly behind her.

  Alicia turned around to look at the woman who would become her Mistress if she decided to take the room and swallowed hard. She wanted to do this. She wanted to do this bad. But she wasn’t at all sure it would be right to do it. She could see this becoming very... overwhelming. Very all encompassing. She could see wanting to do nothing but be involved here. Like the way adolescent boys got involved in video games to the exclusion of real life.

  “I won’t let you drown, little one. I won’t let you sink. Not here, and not in school. I won’t let you procrastinate.”

  Alicia opened her mouth to say yes, but nothing would come out.

  Margot understood more than Alicia knew. She smiled and patted Alicia on the shoulder. “Well, I don’t need an answer instantly. Why don’t we continue our tour and we’ll talk a little more, and then you can go and think about it?”

  The entire third floor was Margot’s room. It was sumptuously appointed, with a huge, four poster bed with a gorgeous lacy crocheted canopy, gorgeous antique looking furniture, a television so big it looked like it belonged in a movie theatre, and a closet that was the size of the bedroom Alicia grew up in.

  As they left the room, Mistress said, “There’s a little more to the house, but I don’t want to scare you off. That’s enough for today.”

  Alicia was intrigued, but agreed. They settled back down in the parlor. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Mistress smiled. “Your manners are reasonably good, Alicia. That’s very nice and unfortunately rare, lately.”

  “Thank you.”

  She was pinned by that dark gaze. “Did you tell someone where you were going when you came here?”

  Alicia instantly wondered if she was trying to trip her up. “Yes, I always try to be very careful about my own personal security. A friend of mine knows where I am, has your number, knows where the ad was placed, has the directions and is expecting a call from me by a certain time.”

  Margot was impressed. She was often dismayed by how many young women she encountered who were entirely willing to come m
eet someone they knew nothing about – just because she was a woman – without taking the proper precautions. “Good for you.” She took a sip of what had to be cold tea. “What do you think? You haven’t run away screaming, so I have to think that you’re somewhat intrigued... ?”

  Alicia cleared her throat, and couldn’t meet the older woman’s eyes. “I – uh, yeah. I’m definitely intrigued.”

  “Well, that’s good. I don’t offer to take in very many girls, you know. I have a lot more interviews than I do offers, about one offer to about twenty appointments.”

  Alicia was suitably impressed.

  “But I have a good feeling about you. Of course, you may have noticed that there’s a bit of a hierarchy about living here. You’ll be a new girl, and new girls are – quite literally – the babies. You’ll have to agree to be treated as such. You’ll have to agree to give me quite a bit of power over you, and I know that that goes against the grain of a lot of why you’re probably here, going to college. It’s usually a time when you’re trying to get away from parental restraint, and here you’d be stepping back into it, probably back into a much more restrictive form of it than you grew up in, by a very long shot, if today’s current parental trends are anything to go by.”

  She was right on the money with that, Alicia thought to herself.

  Margot leaned forward. “But if the idea of being most actively, most strictly parented makes you slippery; if knowing that you’re expected to be home at a particular time, that your grades and behavior in school will be closely monitored, that you’ll be put down for naps every day, and you’ll have a very strict, early bed time, that you’ll sleep in a crib and wear diapers and be spanked with alarming frequency... and much, much more makes you worry that you didn’t wear a pad today, then you have some serious thinking to do.

  “I want your answer in three days. But before you give it to me, I want you to think very carefully. This is not a game to me, nor to any of the other women – or occasional men – in this home. It’s very real, and the spankings and punishments – and the pleasures –“ she said, drawing the word out deliberately, “ however infrequent - are also very real. The bruises are very real. You will be asked to sign something that states that you understand exactly what will happen and that you won’t hold anyone here legally responsible for those bruises. You will, for all intents and purposes, become a child. A baby, and then, if you’re well behaved enough, a child. You will lose the rights and privileges you’ve worked for all of your life. This is not something to enter into lightly.”

  “And if you do, I will never let you go. You will be my child, forever, to raise as I please. You can stay with me throughout all of your studies – post graduate, included, and remain a baby, if that’s what I think you need. If you like, I can procure you a husband, who will continue to raise you in the same vein as I have. Kennedy has chosen to have me do that for her. She will leave the house when she graduates at the end of the fall semester, and she will marry a husband of my choosing in the spring.”

  Alicia looked nonplussed, as if she’d hit her limit of information, or maybe even gone a bit beyond it.

  “Why don’t you toddle on home, sweetie? I think I’ve piled enough on you for today. You feel free to call me any time you like if you have any questions. I have your number on my phone if I need to contact you. Remember, I want to hear from you in three days. That would be no later than Thursday. As a matter of fact, I want you to come here Thursday at two to tell me what your decision is. I know classes don’t start until next week, so you shouldn’t have anything going on... “ She looked at Alicia expectantly.

  “I don’t think I do,” Alicia bit her lip, not entirely sure.

  “You may call me and we’ll talk if you do.” Margot gave Alicia a pink appointment card, and Alicia was reminded of the ones she got at the dentist. Margot rose and Alicia followed dutifully behind her. “One more thing. Regardless of whatever your decision is, whether you come to stay with me or not, you are not allowed to touch yourself until you give me your decision three days from now. Say that for me now.”

  Blushing furiously, Alicia repeated, “I’m – I’m not uh, not allowed to touch my-myself until I give you my decision three days from now.”

  “Good girl.”

  They went to the door, where Alicia turned around suddenly and said, “You didn’t mention how much it was for room and board.”

  Margot almost giggled. “Oh, silly, I don’t charge my girls for room and board. They pay in... other ways.”

  Not entirely sure she was happy with that answer, Alicia never the less allowed herself to be hugged tightly and gently hustled out the door. “Oh. This is the last thing, I promise. If you decide to stay, you must bring me a copy of your birth certificate and a photo id, as proof of your age.”

  Alicia nodded and continued on her way, her mind full of the possibilities.

  Chapter Two

  It didn’t take Alicia three days to make up her mind. She knew, probably before she left the house, that she was going to come back. There was no way she could pass up such an opportunity to live in a house like that. It would be living out a fantasy that had been tucked away in the back of her mind, largely examined only in the dark of night, for so long... Dear God it was horribly hard to follow that last edict, though, and refrain from pleasuring herself. Having found exactly what she wanted, there was nothing she craved more than the satisfaction of fantasizing about it to completion.

  But she didn’t, and she was damned proud of herself for not doing so, but she swore she could barely walk for the ache between her legs by that third day.

  It was Keri that was the spoilsport in the whole equation, only Alicia couldn’t be angry at her. She must’ve thought she was out of her mind.

  Not that she let that stop her.

  She hadn’t called Mistress, nor had she been called, which was a good thing because she was frantically busy trying to get ready for classes. But she was there for her meeting, if a little bit early, birth certificate and driver’s license tucked into her purse. The maid, Ella, opened the door and had her sit in the foyer for a few minutes. The door to the parlor where she’d first sat and talked with Mistress was open, and she could hear that someone was undergoing a most severe physical reprimand. Each swat reverberated in the foyer and in Alicia’s head, to say nothing of the moans and groans, which she had to assume were being muffled by something, because she was sure that, from the sounds of those most disturbing cracks, whoever it was that was on the receiving end of the was desperately wanting to scream from them.

  She had to wonder if this had been planned by Mistress so that she’d hear it when she arrived...

  Finally, ages later, Alicia was sure, the spanking finally stopped. She could hear low, soft voices, then saw Amy walking slowly out of the parlor, plaid schoolgirl skirt up around her waist, her panties in her hands, bright red bottom bouncing as she bounded up the stairs.

  Mistress was in a gorgeous azure blue robe like ensemble this time when she came into the foyer. “You’re early.”

  Alicia couldn’t tell if that was a good thing in her book or not. Most people thought it was good. Better than being late.

  She stood up.

  “Come into the parlor.”

  Said the spider to the fly, Alicia finished automatically from the nursery rhyme her mother used to read to her. This situation had definite correlations. She walked past Mistress and into the parlor, assuming the same seat she’d had before.

  “So. You didn’t call me at all. I take it then that you had no questions whatsoever about living in this house?”

  “Not really.”

  Margot frowned, and Alicia was already realizing that that wasn’t an expression she wanted to see on that face. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. What have you decided?”

  Alicia bit her lip and said, “I want to stay here.”

  She was surprised and amazed when she found herself clasped to Mistress’s ample bosom.
“And excellent decision that I promise you won’t regret, little one.”

  The first thing she had to do was sign some legal paperwork that she was required to actually read, as if there was going to be a quiz on it later. And Alicia wasn’t at all sure there wasn’t going to be, so she actually did read it, not that she necessarily understood what she was reading. Once that was taken care of, Mistress stood in front of her and said, “Strip.”

  Alicia’s mouth gaped open, but she didn’t move.

  “What did I tell you the first time you were here?”

  She gulped loudly. “That you don’t like to repeat yourself,” she answered, quietly but clearly.

  “Good girl.”

  Afraid to wait too long to comply, Alicia’s fingers went immediately to the buttons of her baby doll shirt, but she was, understandably, doing it slowly. She was in a place she didn’t know very well, standing in front of a woman she didn’t know very well, and she wasn’t in much of a hurry to strip down, despite the fact that she knew that there was a spanking in the offing if she didn’t comply.

  Mistress was fussing with something else, and wasn’t even looking at her, but still said with complete authority, as if she knew from previous experience that Alicia would be moving at a snail’s pace, “Believe me, chica, you don’t want me to have to undress you.”

  That hastened Alicia’s movements considerably, at least until she got down to her bra and panties, when things came back down to a crawl. She was just reaching around to the back to unhook her bra when Mistress turned around and saw that she still had some clothes on. Within seconds, Alicia was nude, her bra and panties casualties from the huge shears Mistress yielded with alacrity then holstered in her sewing kit next to her lounge.

  “When I say strip, I mean strip. Quickly and completely.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Good girl.”

  Her street clothes were gathered up and put into a duffle bag. “You’ll get these back when you leave the house, hopefully four or more years from now. If you want them then. If I choose your partner, they’ll go to him or her at that point.”