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Assignment 2: Little Stories [age play, d/s, spank
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
I'm dumbstruck. This story has excited me beyond any story I have ever
read on here. It was like you knew exactly what I was hoping to
read, so you wrote it. I very rarely react to any posts, not that
there aren't some teriffic writers here, but none too many that can
find the deepest core of my fantasies as this just did. Brava..and
please..post again real soon...
Princess
Laurelie ([email protected]) wrote:
: ***Preface: This is a fantasy written down as one of my weekly assignments
: for Rage. It's taken me months and months to get up the
: courage to post this (despite Rage's wishes), but I suppose
: it's time to just take a deep breath and let it go.
: I guess what I'm saying is, please be gentle. I hope
: It doesn't squick too many people, and it's a terribly
: hard fantasy for me to cope with. All comments are
: welcome, as I feel they help me to become a better
: writer. (And yes, I did get Bomber's permission to use
: his name.)
: =====================================================================
: LITTLE Stories
: by Laurel
: © Copyright 1995. All rights reserved. No permission to reproduce.
: +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
: I'm in your bedroom and showing you what I've chosen to
: wear. It's a girlish outfit. Not so young looking so as to
: look like a costume, but clearly baby-dollish in appearance,
: complete with laced bobby socks. You look me over, walking
: around me, and take out the brush. You run it along my
: backside and my thighs. I squeeze my eyes closed in anticipation
: of being spanked.
: Instead, cruelly, you chuckle and lift the brush to my hair
: and brush it into a ponytail, fastening it with a ponytail holder.
: I start to feel young and cared for. . memories flooding back to me
: when I was a little girl and my mother used to braid my long hair for me.
: You tell me that we're going to the store, and that I'm to hold
: your hand and cling to you at all times. . .you wouldn't want me
: to get *lost* after all.
: This embarasses me naturally. You know it will. And I
: get that shrinking diminutive feeling. I lace my fingers through
: yours and open my eyes very wide at you. I may not be a little girl,
: but your adult slave girl has become significantly "other." She
: is small and moves gingerly, with trust.
: We drive to the mall, and you lead me through the parking
: lot by the hand. You speak to me with smiles, but your grip
: on my hand is firm. As soon as we get into the mall, you ask
: me if I want a balloon. I giggle and shake my head no. But you
: give me that *look* and seem insistant. You lead me to the
: vendor, speaking to me as if I was a child. "I think this
: little girl wants a red balloon" you say. . .or something like it.
: My eyes are glued to the floor and I nuzzle close under
: your arm.
: You tie the balloon around my wrist so that it won't get
: lost. . .and we walk through the mall together. You are very
: patronizing and controlling the whole time. People watch us,
: unsure if we are doing what we're doing, or if we're just being
: a disgustingly loving couple. You insist on stopping at every
: vendor for a drink, and sitting and talking to me as I drink up.
: You make me drink soda, and juice, and eventually a blue slushy
: that turns my tongue colors. I shrink more and more by the moment.
: Eventually, as we shop, I have to go the bathroom very much.
: I ask to stop in the restroom, but you say no. At first, I can
: tolerate it, but eventually it makes it hard for me to walk. I
: start squirming, my face is red. I start begging, quietly, in
: tones that I hope will not be overheard. At one point
: we pass near a bathroom and I try to bolt for it, but you have
: my wrist fast, and yank me back, giving me a quick swat on the ass.
: "Be a good girl" you tell me and drag me into another store where
: you take your sweet time shopping.
: When you do this, the full impact of what's happening
: hits me. Yes, we're playing a game, but it's a game with a very
: specific design. You want to humiliate me. Publicly. Completely.
: Show me what you can make me into. You can reduce me to a
: child. You *can* do this to me. You can do *anything* to me.
: I am left wondering how many people witnessed the swat.
: The whining begins, and I *feel* like a little bratty child
: as I stomp my foot on the ground trying not to pee myself and
: trying to convince you to change your mind. At the register, I'm
: near tears, and almost not caring how much I would embarass myself
: if I started begging. Instead I whimper next to you like a little
: girl. . . even as the checkout girl watches me. I keep saying, "Please!
: Please". . .and you quietly say: "No." and continue to write out
: your check. The lady at the checkout doesn't know what I'm begging
: for. Or does she? It doesn't really matter. I'm a wreck. I'm
: breaking. All my control and dignity is slipping through my
: fingers.
: You grab my hand and pull me as we walk back to the car.
: You have to pull me cuz I'm positive I'll have an accident if I move.
: When we reach the car, I know what has been prearranged, and I
: have to go so badly I don't even wait for you to get into the car
: on your side. I pee my panties and find myself standing in a puddle
: sniffling and whimpering. You look at me. . . smile *ever* so
: briefly, and then come around the side of the car. For a breif
: shivering moment our eyes meet. My humiliation is complete, I
: think. I don't even care what you do next. I bite my bottom lip
: as the sweet swell of embarassment rises in my throat and the
: tears well up.
: Without a word, you bend me over the car hood, pull down
: my panties and start spanking me. I know that there is no one in
: the parking lot, and that even if there were, they wouldn't be able to
: see what was happening very well through all the cars. . .but
: the possibilities make me crazy! I feel you spank my wet bottom
: while telling me what a naughty girl I am to wet my panties. "Since
: you wet your panties like a baby, I think we'll have to start
: treating you like one, instead of a big girl" you say.
: There is a towel in the car, and you make me sit in my wet
: clothes on the towel all the way home, holding the balloon in
: my lap. I am too ashamed to get out of the car once we're home
: and you have to pull me out by the wrist and pull me into the house.
:
: * * *
: It is the next night, and Bomber is at the house. We
: are sitting around watching television when Bomber gets up for
: a beer and asks me if I'd like one. I say yes and he brings it,
: but you shake your head. "Laurel, you know better than that."
: I blush immediately, having forgotten. You take the
: beer out of my hands and turn to Bomber. "Laurel's not allowed
: to drink without permission. . .especially before bed. Would you
: like to know why?" Bomber grins malevolently, and I sink into
: the couch. I feel my stomach clenching in that way it always does
: when you humiliate me. And you love to do this to me. I know. I
: can feel your heat and your sexual energy rise just looking
: at me shrink. And, in spite of the humiliation, no, because of it,
: my body reacts to you.
: You continue, "Laurel has been having some accidents
: lately. It's not her fault poor thing. She can't help that she
: wets the bed and has accidents in her panties. She wasn't properly
: potty trained."
: I curl up in the corner of the couch, staring at the floor.
: "So since Laurel can't act like a big girl, we have to treat her
: like a little girl until she grows up." I hate you. Yes, I
: must hate you. How else can I accept you doing this to me. No,
: I love you for doing this to me. My god you are taking so much
: from me. But this is yours to give. I have given you my
: embarassment. . . and I get heat in return. I feel it
: swirl in me. The sexual response, climbing, climbing. My
: breath going faster.
: Bomber chuckles (in that infuriating and humiliating way
: he has of doing) and asks if I'm ever allowed to drink at all.
: "Yes, in supervised ways. And I keep her in diapers so that
: we can avoid nasty accidents like the other day." And now . . .
: I want to dissapear. I can hardly look at you, and the blood
: drains from me. . . I can't speak, I can't hardly breath.
: "Laurel wet herself in public in the mall. I had to take her
: home and clean her up and give her a spanking."
: Bomber adjusts in his seat, you continue. "Laurel has
: to be taken to the bathroom when she wants to go, and I reward
: her appropriately. But until she earns it, she has to take
: naps and she goes to bed early. I even feed her."
: You look at your watch. "In fact, it's about Laurel's
: bed time now." I look at you in shock. We have company and I
: don't *want* to go to bed. I can't tell how serious you are
: or not. Suddenly I don't want to be treated like a child, I
: want to stay up with the grown ups! I feel the same pouting
: feeling that always came over me when I was young.
: You ignore my shock. You ignore the fact that this has ceased
: to be fun for me. You get up, and go into the kitchen, returning with
: a bottle full of apple juice. I look at you aghast. I feel
: the submission inside fighting. . .this humiliation is nearly
: too much. You hand the bottle to me. "Drink up before bed
: Laurel." I stare at you near anger. I'm rebelling inside.
: I can feel it. I am totally MORTIFIED. I will *not*
: drink out of a bottle in front of Bomber. And yet, I will not
: safeword either. No, I WILL NOT!
: I put the bottle down on the table. There is a silence
: in the room. Bomber leans forward, and you stare at me. I look away
: from you. Moments pass, but they feel like hours to me. You pick the
: bottle up and repeat the command. In furious humiliation, I throw
: the bottle on the floor. I am struck with terror at that very
: instant.
: It's too much for you. Without
: hesitation, you grab me and yank me over your knee on
: the couch. "Just like a little girl, she also needs a spanking,"
: you say.
: I feel you pulling my pants down and suddenly
: realize that Bomber's going to see the diaper you've put
: on me. I start to yelp and struggle, but you're too
: strong and I'm exposed before I can stop it. You start
: spanking me. . .flailing. . . I grunt as the stings increase.
: I stop struggling for a while, trying to take the pain.
: I know you'll stop soon, you always do. But the spanks don't
: stop and they don't get lighter. I start to squirm and make
: noise. . . knowing this will appease you. You'll stop.
: Instead, you take the hairbrush and start spanking me
: faster and harder. I don't think it's *ever* going to stop!
: And then it hits me. You want me to cry. You want me to cry
: like a little baby in front of Bomber. Even more humiliation and
: embarassment. . . I think in my mind that you can't make me.
: But I am near tears already that you have exposed the diapers and
: the bottle. . .my lower lip is trembling, and the spankings will
: not stop. No you can't make me. You can't. No.
: It breaks at once like a dam. My legs start kicking and
: I start crying. . .sobbing. My bottom hurts so much, and
: I feel that same loss of control I felt as a child. But even after
: I start crying, the spanking continues, driving my mind over the edge
: and making me *truly* submissive. I'll do *anything* for it to stop.
: I beg you, "Please daddy please stop" and then cry harder as I
: realize I have embarassed myself further by calling you daddy. I
: don't think it's ever going to stop now. My begging is blubbering.
: And I know Bomber is watching me flail, bareassed, and crying and
: begging. And I can feel you hard underneath me. . .
: You rest your hand on my bottom and hold the bottle to
: my mouth. I'm not expecting it. I keep writhing in your lap a moment,
: reaching behind me to rub my bottom. I howl. With tears streaming
: down my face, I suck from the bottle until it's finished. Then
: you lead me to the bedroom with my pants around my knees. You insist
: on rediapering me even though I haven't wet myself. . .because you feel
: my pussy is wet. Then you tuck me into bed, and I have to listen in the
: bed to you and Bomber talking for some time. . .feeling like a little
: girl. . .tears still on my cheeks. . . until you come into the bedroom.
:
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