by Lucy Wild
He watched through half closed eyes as she squirmed and moved on her seat, her hands clamped between her legs, her knees squeezing together. As her feet jiggled he again felt the power he had over her growing, waking him up. It had been so long since he’d done this. The other littles were so good, they had long passed the babygirl stage. None of them were even in nappies anymore but when they had been, they had wet themselves readily and without shame, knowing it was for their own good.
Not her though, not yet at least. She was fighting herself, fighting against letting go of the brat and becoming the little she needed to be in order to grow as a person, to learn the joy of letting someone else take charge.
When she began to lose control at last, he realised he had felt her tension, his muscles straining as he managed to keep still but only just. He wanted to shout out, “Let go,” but he kept silent, knowing she had to take this first step on her own, she had to do it willingly. Everything else would follow from this. She muttered under her breath as a hissing sound filled the air of the carriage and at that moment she visibly relaxed. Even as shame filled her features, he could see her body relaxing and he did too. He had not wanted to admit it but he had feared she might be able to maintain control for the entire journey. It would have made everything else much harder.
Taking her into the house with her nappy wet and her humiliation complete would make her far easier to train, to mould into a little. He had theatrically awoken and stepped down from the carriage, ignoring her shame whilst smiling inwardly. She was ready and so was he. Let her education commence.
Chapter 7
Laura looked up at the building before her, glad she was standing on grass and not gravel. It was an impressive house. Tall windows lined up either side of an imposing dark wood front door. There were three storeys in white stone, with statues either corner of the red tiled roof. Ivy crept tentatively upwards from the ground as if afraid of Westall, knowing he might beat their leaves as he had beaten her. The brute.
The carriage rolled away towards the nearby stable block as Westall took her hand and pulled her up the steps and through the door.
Inside a middle aged buxom woman was dusting a marble statue. She turned to face them as they entered. “Mr Westall, you’re back already.”
“We rode all night Mrs Flanders,” he replied. “She had an accident though. Would you mind changing her whilst I go and see if breakfast is ready?”
“Of course Mr Westall.”
Laura blushed deeply. How did he know she had wet herself. “Wait a moment,” she said but she might as well have been talking to herself.
Edward turned to Laura and leaned closer to her, talking in a whisper. “You will obey her as you would me or you will suffer the consequences. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she gulped, unable to meet his eyes.
Mrs Flanders took her from Westall’s grasp and gripped her hand even more tightly, bustling her along a thickly carpeted hallway and up a flight of stairs. “This way child,” she said, pulling her through a doorway into a small room. “We’ll soon have you cleaned up.”
Laura found herself looking at a rectangular wooden table with straps and bonds at each corner. “Up you get,” Mrs Flanders said.
“Must I?”
Mrs Flanders scowled at her. “It was not a request.”
Reluctantly, Laura climbed onto the table. Almost at once, Mrs Flanders shoved her down onto her back, binding her wrists in the straps by her head. Laura looked up in time to see the woman picking up a square of cloth from a pile on the cabinet next to the table.
“Let me up off here!” Laura snapped, tugging at the bonds holding her wrists in place.
“Can’t have you in that one all day,” Mrs Flanders replied. “You’ll get a rash.” She untied the knots holding the nappy in place. “My, that is heavy. We’ll get a fresh one on you and then you can have some breakfast. You must be pretty hungry by now. Lift your hips up for me, that’s a good little girl.”
She tied the fresh nappy in place before untying Laura’s wrists. “If you’re good and walk properly I won’t have to hold onto you. Will you be good?”
“If I’m not?”
“I’m far firmer with my spanking hand than your papa. Do we have an accord?”
Laura’s face fell as she thought of the stinging pain inflicted by Mr Westall. “We do,” she said quietly.
“Good, now let’s go get you a drink.”
Laura followed her back downstairs into a dining room where Mr Study was sitting at the head of the table. The remaining seats were all taken up by other young women of a similar age to her. They were all wearing similar babydoll dresses and none of them seemed in the least surprised to see her. To her astonishment she realised only Westall was eating. The others were all sucking on a bottle of milk, the teats at the end wedged between their lips.
“Where is my breakfast?” Laura asked as she sat in the only vacant seat.
“Right there.,” Mr Westall replied.
She looked down at a bottle of milk and napkin. “You expect me to drink that?”
“Your choice.”
“Then I refuse.”
“Very well. You will drink from the source instead. Mrs Flanders if you please.”
“Of course sir,” Mrs Flanders said, grabbing Laura’s head and twisting it towards her.
“What are you doing?” Laura asked. “Unhand me this instant.”
“It’s good for you,” Mrs Flanders said, pulling the strap of her dress from her shoulder. As it lowered, she reached into her dress and pulled out her left breast, pushing the nipple straight into Laura’s complaining mouth.
Laura attempted to keep her lips clamped shut but the pressure of the moment combined with the hardness of the nipple brushing against her mouth made her desperate for a breath and she could not prevent herself from gasping. The instant her mouth opened, the nipple went in.
With a squeeze of her breast, Mrs Flanders squirted warm milk straight onto her tongue. “That’s it,” the older woman said. “You have a good drink.”
Laura caught sight of the other girls from the corner of her eye but they merely continued sucking on their bottles.
To her surprise the milk tasted surprisingly pleasant, reminding her of some long forgotten memory of her early childhood, a happier time that she was barely aware was still locked in her long term memory. Her eyes glazed over slightly and she found herself automatically sucking at the breast, drawing more of the warm fluid into her mouth.
It was some time before Mrs Flanders let her go and when she did, Laura sank back into her chair, her stomach filled.
“Give her a dummy,” Mr Westall said. “Keep her quiet for a while.”
Laura blinked and in the time it took to realise what he had said, a dummy was shoved into her mouth. “If she spits it out, tie it in place.”
Laura looked up at Mrs Flanders who seemed to be daring her to try it. She chose to keep the dummy in, the sensation of her early memories giving her a sense of ease that overrode her need to rebel. The fact that none of the other girls were laughing at her helped. She did not feel as if she were being humiliated for the sake of it before them, instead she felt included for the first time in her life.
She sucked at the dummy, her eyes half closed as the other women finished their bottles and then left the room one by one until only Westall, Flanders, and Laura remained.
“Today marks the first day of your education,” Mr Westall said. “Do well and you will soon be home. Continue as a brat and you will remain here for some time. That is all you need remember. Now run along and play.”
He waved his hand as Laura stood up, still sucking on her dummy. She followed Mrs Flanders from the dining room, along a corridor, and then into a playroom.
Inside the other women were playing happily. There was a rocking horse and a blonde woman in her early twenties was riding it with a smile on her face. As she lifted herself on and off the saddle, Laura caught sight of s
omething below her. She blinked in shock as she realised what it was. The saddle of the horse held a wooden phallic cylinder which pointed upwards and the woman was sliding up and down it as she rocked the horse back and forth.
A swing in the far corner contained another phallic shape sticking up from the seat but this was currently unoccupied. Most of the girls were holding dolls and setting out the toy crockery for a pretend tea party.
“Enjoy playtime,” Mrs Flanders said, pulling the door closed and locking it, leaving Laura alone with the other women.
They ignored her, too busy playing. Hearing a moan to her right, Laura walked across the room and pulled back a curtain to find a quiet reading area. On a pile of cushions a red haired girl was laid on her back, book in one hand, the fingers of her other hand deep inside herself.
Laura stumbled away from the curtain, mumbling an apology through her dummy. She sought refuge from the madness around her, spotting a side door and running for it. She shoved it open and found herself in a parody of a doctor’s examination room. A woman was standing in a white coat and nothing else, grinning as Laura came in. “A patient!” she said, grabbing Laura by the shoulders. “I’ve been waiting ages for a patient. I must examine you.”
“No, I’m sorry. I made a mistake,” Laura said, the dummy falling from her mouth.
“Come on, no need to be shy.” The girl pushed Laura backwards onto a table, lifting her dress as she did so. Straps dangled from the table and as Laura fought to rise, a belt was tied in place over her midriff. Another one was pushed over her ankles as she sat up and with half her body held in place it was easy for the woman to push her shoulders down and tie her upper half in place, her dress remaining round her neck.
“I must check your heart,” the woman said, sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she picked up a stethoscope. “This might be a little cold.”
“Let me up this instant.”
“I must concentrate,” the woman said, taking a length of bandage and wrapping it around Laura’s head so it formed a makeshift gag, turning her protests into nothing more than muffled grunts.
Laura stared at the end of the stethoscope as it was pressed to her cleavage. The cold tip made her shudder as it moved across to her right breast, causing the nipple to harden despite her discomfort.
“Good girl,” the woman said, swapping the stethoscope for a thermometer. “Better do your temperature next. I’ll just warm it up first.”
She unbuttoned her white coat to reveal her naked body, sliding the thermometer into herself whilst Laura continued to cry out against the gag. “Soon be warm.”
A moment later she slid the thermometer free and then pulled the bandages from Laura’s mouth, pushing the end of the thermometer past her lips. She pulled it back out at once. “You need warming up too.”
“Let me go!” Laura cried as the woman’s hands slid over her breasts, tugging at her nipples and making her wince.
“You need your medicine first,” the woman said, her hands moving lower, sliding over Laura’s midriff towards her core.
“Playtime’s over,” Mrs Flanders’ voice called through from the other room. “Time for lessons.”
The woman groaned with frustration and pouted as she untied Laura. “Get well soon,” she said, kissing her cheek as Laura got to her feet and almost ran back through to the playroom.
Chapter 8
Edward looked at Fiona as she bent over his desk. “You know the medical room is for playing,” he said, pacing up and down behind her. “It is not for teasing and tormenting the new little.”
“I was only playing,” Fiona replied, letting out a yelp as Edward’s hand descended on her posterior.
“That is not the kind of play allowed here and you know it.”
“But I’ve tied down other girls before. We play doctors and nurses.”
“They have progressed beyond the babygirl phase. Laura is new here and must be treated as such.” He spanked her again, looking down at her exposed bottom, her dress across her hips enough to reveal two fleshy buttocks ready for discipline. Discipline that Edward was only too happy to provide.
He was appalled by what he had heard. One of the other students had come to him and whispered about what she had seen in the doctor’s surgery. “I watched through the window and she had the new girl tied down naked. She was teasing her so much, it was awful.”
“Thank you Georgina,” he had said, sending her on her way before collecting Fiona from the classroom and escorting her to his office. She had denied at first, knowing she was in trouble. It was a shame really, she had always been one of the best behaved.
“I was only showing her what was in the room,” Fiona had lied.
“By tying her in place and running your hands over her body?” he replied, whipping his hand onto her posterior. “Continue in this manner and I shall get rid of the doctor’s surgery completely. Then none of you will be able to play in there.”
The medical room had been a recent addition to the playroom, only built two years before. It had been designed to give the littles a chance to act out roles and interact with each other whilst they did so. The straps were deliberately placed to allow them to tie each other down during their games. At first the room had been closely monitored to make sure none of those held in place were put in danger. Edward had soon relaxed when it became clear the enforced tying down was only used for relieving sexual tension between the littles. It was the same reason why the swing and rocking horse had been introduced. Until then, there had been issues between the littles, sleeping together when they should be in their own beds in the nursery, being caught together in the long grass outside or in the linen cupboard. This way those tensions and pressures that built up could be relieved in a healthy way, preventing the hysteria so common amongst untrained littles.
But there were strict rules in place which all the littles were told during their first days of study. Each student began as a babygirl, losing all rights and privileges and being totally dependent on Edward and the staff for every one of their needs. Progress well and submit fully and they soon advanced to little, given more freedom, no need for dummies or nappy changes unless for disciplinary reasons. At that point they were allowed to relieve the tensions they felt either alone or with each other, a blind eye being turned to the dalliances until a papa was found for them. Once they were betrothed to a papa, all carnal encounters ceased to ensure they remained pure for their papa.
To hear that Fiona had stripped Laura and tied her down was appalling and Edward knew he had no choice but to punish Fiona. Laura’s punishment would come later.
With the recalcitrant Fiona bent over his desk, Edward had launched into a lengthy tirade about the rules and expectations he had of his littles, pausing every few minutes to land another firm smack on her exposed posterior. Her knickers were round her ankles, serving as a makeshift binding, helping to keep her legs together.
“You will only play with other littles in the doctor’s surgery,” he said as he smacked her again, listening to her cry of pain. “Not babygirls. Is that clear?”
“Yes papa.”
“Good, now pull up your knickers and go back to class. If it happens again you will be put back to babygirl stage yourself. Off with you.”
Just as she went to pull up her knickers, he slid his hand down her bottom and brushed it lightly between her legs. She let out a gasp of surprise and he blinked as if coming around from a sleep. He looked down and saw where his hand lay, pulling it away as if burned by an intense heat.
Fiona looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but he glared at her. “Out!” he shouted and she turned on her heels, running at speed for the door.
When she had gone Edward sat at the chair behind his desk and put his head in his hands. His mind was in turmoil. Why on earth had he just done that? For the first time when spanking a student he had found it hard to resist touching her in a more lascivious manner. It took him several minutes to work out the reason f
or the lust coursing through him.
It was Laura. She had bewitched his mind. When he had been looking at Fiona’s exposed posterior, he had been thinking of Laura, picturing what it would be like to bend her over the table and spank her until her behind was bright red. Once her nerve endings were on fire he would unbutton his trousers, pull out his stiff member and slide it into her. The very thought made him sigh with mingled delight and frustration. Why can I not stop thinking about such things? He asked himself again and again what it was about her that was calling to him like a siren but he could not pinpoint anything beyond her beauty and her defiance.
If only he hadn’t heard about Fiona tying her down. It had set off a chain of thought in his mind that he had been unable to shake ever since. To think of her bound in place, unable to move away, ready for him to do whatever sinful deed came to mind. It would remove that bratty nature of hers, he was certain of that, to have him thrust into her whilst she could do nothing but moan below him. How had he ever thought angry thoughts about her? She just needed a firm hand and a chance to allow her natural submission to emerge. Then it would all be fine, her issues would melt away like the morning mist when the sun rose.
He stood up and walked out of the office. This was no time to be thinking sexual thoughts about one of his littles. It was time for him to teach them about cock sucking.
Chapter 9
“It may sound strange,” Mr Westall said, looking down out at the room. Laura glanced round at the other students all sitting rigidly upright at their desks whilst she deliberately slouched like a vagabond, wanting to demonstrate how little she cared for the lesson “but think of it like sucking on a dummy. You all remember that do you not?”