MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING

[littlebetsy]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 1

The sequel to “Her Very Own Sissy,”

When the front doorbell rang, Muffin was attired only in its little white patent leather shoes, pink stockings, pink panties, white apron, and lacy white maid’s cap.  The feminized slave was on its knees in Mrs. Daniels’s closet, polishing number 17 of her 42 pairs of high-heeled shoes.

“Answer the door, sissy!” came a woman’s impatient voice from behind the bathroom door.

“B-b-but misthwess, I’m not weawing a dwess!” pleaded the tiny thing in its tiny, lisping bleat.

“If you don’t open that door this instant, you’ll be opening it quite naked with a very sore sissy fanny!”

“Y-y-yes, misthwess,” said the terrified creature, putting down the shoe brush and running down the hallway as quickly as its ingrained mincing gait would permit.

The front entrance was bracketed by leaded glass sidelites, which allowed a view of the front steps and walkway.  Before Muffin could put its dainty hand on the doorknob, the poor thing froze.  For standing on the other side was a young woman of such arresting beauty that the shy little fairy could only stare in wonder and desperate longing.

Her wavy blond hair, cut just below her chin line, emphasized her youth and petite frame. A tight, crème-colored halter-bustier and matching pleated mini-shirt complimented her flowering bust and smooth, tanned legs.  But it was her face that devastated Sissy Muffin: the elvish slant of her big brown eyes, the puckish up-turn of her small nose and the mischievous smile on her full lips.

The pathetic sissy was torn between running away or collapsing in submission in front of her.  Instead, Muffin’s trembling hand unlocked and opened the door.

She stepped inside, her platform shoes with six-inch heels clicking enticingly on the foyer’s stone floor.  Behind her she pulled a rolling suitcase.  Muffin held up the two corners of its frilly little apron and gave its deepest curtsy.

“Why, you must be the little fairy I’ve heard so much about!” the young woman said in a playful, Southern-accent. 

The ridiculous pansy went through its reflexive introduction:  “M-m-my name isth Muffin, and I’m a thissthy.”

“Why, of course you are, honey,” the beautiful blond said, lightly clapping her hands in approval.  “And are you not adorable?  You’re just as tiny and girlish as Julie, I mean Mrs. Daniels, said you’d be.”

Muffin blushed.  “M-m-my misthwess isth in the bafftub.  Would you wike to wait for her?”

“No, precious.  I’m going to get started on you right away,” she said, taking Muffin’s tiny hand and moving into the living room.  “My name is Darlene, and I’m here to help you with your little problem.”   

“M-m-my pwobwem?”

“Uh-huh,” said the beautiful woman, allowing her fingertips to stroke the pansy’s hot, blushing face.  “You see,” she said bending forward and breathing in the sexiest of whispers, “sometimes a certain part of a sissy gets big and nasty and very unladylike. Do you know what I’m talking about, honey?”

Little Muffin could not speak, for the little fairy was staring at Darlene’s jaunty young bre-sts which were directly in front of him and seemed to be struggling to escape from the tight halter top.

Darlene giggled at the striking effect her body was having on the effeminate plaything.  She pinched its reddening cheek and stood up.

“You know what, Muffin?  I’m going to show you something very special and very secret.  Would you like that sissy?  Would you like Darlene to share a very special secret with you?”

“Y-y-yessth, Missth Darwene.”

“Okay, sweetie.  But first you have to get down on your knees.  Can you do that for me like a good little sissy?”

Muffin lowered its pink-stockinged knees to the stone floor and stared up at the gorgeous woman.

Darlene playfully wrinkled her nose at the devoted maid and then reached for the hem of her mini-skirt.  A second later, the skirt was above Darlene’s waist – and her lovely briefs were on display before Muffin’s wide blue eyes.

“How do you like my panties, little sissy?” she asked as she teasingly rubbed one beautiful leg against the other.  “Aren’t they just yummy?”

Indeed, they were the prettiest panties in all of Muffin’s feminized experience.  A sheer, crème-colored, V-shaped panel hugged Darlene’s magnificent pubis.  The panel was surrounded by a delicate lace mesh adorned with dozens of tiny pink satin roses.

“Look at all-l-l the pre-e-etty flowers, Muffin!” drawled Darlene, taking a step towards the hotly blushing fairy.  “Have you ever seen anything so swe-e-et?”

The poor thing was mad with desire.  The lovely panties, the closeness of the beautiful woman’s most private part to Muffin’s face, and the intoxicating blend of expensive perfume and Darlene’s own girly scent made the little sissy’s head buzz.

Darlene giggled with delight and made a quick about-face.  The puffing fairy’s face was now but an inch away from her posterior.  The seat of the panties was cut very high, revealing the splendid round globes of Darlene’s derrière.  The lovely mesh of pink roses descended in a cascade into the deep cleft of her rear.

Darlene expertly wiggled her hips and felt the sissy’s hot panting on her almost bare posterior.  “Oh, sissy!  These panties make a girl feel so-o-o-o sexy!”

She turned around again and allowed her skirt hem to drop back down. She looked at Muffin and laughed.

Sweat had dampened the curly blond bangs on its forehead.  Its eyes were half closed and it breathed fitfully.

“Poor Muffin.  Looks to me like you and my panties fell in love at first sight.  Mmmmm, bet you’d like to have a pair like mine for your very own, wouldn’t you, baby?  Sissy’s very own femmy, frilly, lacy sex-pants!” 

Weeping with frustrated passion, the pathetic pansy nodded vigorously.

“Well, guess what, precious Muffy?  I got a little present for you. In my suitcase is an identical pair – and they’re in your own petite sissy size.  Wouldn’t you just love to try them on?”

“Oh yessth, Missth Darwene.  I want dat more dan anything!”

“Okay then, Miss Priss, up on your feet and off with that frilly apron.  Good girl!  Now step out of your sissy panties . . . Ooops!  Well, for heaven’s sake, sissy!”

A frown came across Darlene’s lovely face, and she placed her fists on her hips in a stance of disapproval.  “Look how big  . . and hard  . . . and UGLY your naughty wee-wee is!”

At that moment Mrs. Daniels walked into the room.

“Hello, Darlene,” she said.  “Would you like to see how little fairies with impertinent pricks get punished?”

(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 2



Mrs. Daniels’s long fingernails clutched poor Muffin by its ear and marched the simpering sissy down the hall to the master bedroom.  There the fairy was tightly bound to a chair and the tip of its incorrigibly rigid p-nis given a slow but excruciating scrubbing with a little girl’s hairbrush.



Darlene was thrilled with the chastisement.  She laughed uncontrollably at the pansy’s ridiculous high-pitched screams and cheered as the tiny bristles scoured the sissy’s swollen and purplish p-nis head.  As the scrubbing and suffering went on, Darlene felt the crotch of her ultra-lacy panties dampen with excitement.  By the time Muffin’s punishment had concluded, the beautiful woman had climaxed twice.



Afterwards, when the effeminate creature’s boy-thing had shriveled back to a prim and flaccid state, the pansy was made to stand with its little nose in a corner for thirty minutes while the two elegant ladies sipped tea, giggling occasionally as they thought of new ways to mock and ridicule the girlish thing that sobbed softly on the other side of the room.



After their refreshments, the women repaired to one of the living room sofas.  Darlene unzipped her suitcase and began showing its contents to her host.



“Darlene, they’re simply fabulous!  You’ve quite outdone yourself this time.  I can’t wait to see how they fit.  Oh, Muffin, come over here, sweetie.  Darlene has some wonderful presents for you.”



Wiping away its tears, the sissy minced respectfully over to where the smiling women were seated.  The little thing was wearing only shoes, thigh-high stockings and a maid’s cap and hoped it would soon be allowed to cover itself again.  Poor Muffin was still thinking of the delicate rose and lace panties that Darlene had promised it earlier.



“Sissy,” said Mrs. Daniels, “for the third time in a week you have disgraced yourself in the presence of women.  As you know, your duty as girl’s plaything is to think only of your owner’s pleasure and never of your own base desires. Yet you continually allow your ugly wee-wee to poke out in the most disgusting and impolite manner.  Not only has your behavior offended the sensibilities of well-bred ladies, it has also placed my investment in your wardrobe at great risk.  I have no intentions of allowing your repulsive erections to stretch your adorable prissy panties out of shape – or, heaven forbid, stain them with semen.  Do I make myself clear, missy?”



“Y-y-yessth, Misthwess,” said the dainty thing, bowing its head.



“So I have asked for the help of my friend Darlene, who is both a talented fashion designer and professional sissy trainer.”



“That’s right, widdle Muffy,” said Darlene in her playful, teasing voice.  As much as the sissy’s heart ached for this blond Venus, it remembered the delight she had taken in its punishment and worried that whatever plans she made would involve the further humiliation and misery of a pansy.  “Until you learn some wee-wee control, we’re going to dress you in outfits that hide your stiffies and that cannot be ruined by any disgusting leakages.  Come here and let me put this on you.  Hands up, sugarplum.”



Muffin stood in front of Darlene as she reached into her bag.  She brought forth a lovely pink cloud of organza, tulle and crinoline.  The cloud descended upon Muffin.  For a moment the sissy saw only baby pink.  But then its petite head emerged through the embroidered neck opening, and its slender arms extended through the puffy sleeves.  Darlene rather roughly turned the pansy around and began buttoning it up in back.  The fastening pulled the bodice snugly against the fairy’s slender torso, and the dress’s skirt stuck out so stiffly that poor Muffin could no longer put its arms down at its sides nor see its little feet.



Then Muffin felt its maid’s cap being removed and replaced with something else.  This big pink hat almost enclosed the sissy’s entire head, leaving just an opening in front, framed by a wide, lace-edged brim.



Little pink mittens were pulled onto Muffin’s petite hands and then the pansy was told to step into footwear that felt like heavy socks.



Finally, Muffin felt its bottom being covered with something very soft and fluffy.  Could it be panties that buttoned on the sides?



“Oh, it’s just too, too sa-weet!” exclaimed Mrs. Daniels in an unusual departure from her cool demeanor and diction.  “Let’s take the darling to my bedroom so it see how prissy-pretty it looks.”



Each woman held one of the sissy’s mittened hands and led it down the hall.  The submissive creature found walking to be a bit awkward as the fluffy material on its bottom pushed its legs apart.



Muffin was placed in front of Mrs. Daniels’s tri-fold standing mirror.  When the little pansy saw its reflection, it yelped in shock.



The two women were exhilarated by Muffin’s reaction and laughed mercilessly at the sissy’s discomfiture.



For staring back at Muffin from the mirror was for all appearances a four and a half-foot tall baby girl!  Its head was covered with a pink baby bonnet.  The dress with its stiff skirt was so short that it did not even reach Muffin’s navel.  And worst of all, the sissy’s bottom was covered in a big, bulky white diaper held in place by extra large safety pins.  The knitted pink mittens and booties completed the picture of total infantilism.



“No-o-o-o!  Pwease, misthwess, pwease don’t make me dwess like a baby!”



Mrs. Daniels crossed her arms and twisted her mouth into a delicious smirk.  “Why not, sweetie?  Like a baby you can’t control your wee-wee, so like a baby you’ll be dressed.”



“But I wook funny!  Evweyone isth gonna waff at me,” said the pathetic pansy, tears welling up in its large blue eyes.



“Of course they will, you ridiculous little twit,” said Darlene, her beautiful face suddenly turning quite cruel.  “That’s the whole point, dummy!  When you get tired of the whole world laughing and jeering at you as comical exaggeration of babyhood, then maybe you’ll get serious about controlling that grotesque pecker between your legs.  Did you think I’d actually give you super-sexy panties like the ones I’m wearing under my mini-skirt now? Just so you could turn around and have a disgusting, dripping hard-on in them?  I promise you’ll never have panties like that!  Not until you show you’re capable of wearing them without making a hideous bulge in the crotch, you nasty little creep!”



The tears now flowed freely down Muffin’s red cheeks.



“And in case anybody misses the point, I embroidered a little message on your rear end, princess,” Darlene said with searing sarcasm.  “Turn around, Muffy, and look at your backside.”



The weeping fairy did as it was told and saw for the first time the pink script sewn onto the seat of its big white diaper:  



“Sissy

in

Training”



As Muffin wailed in horror, Mrs. Daniels took one of its mittened hands and said, “Darlene, don’t you think it’s a lovely day for a walk in the park?”



“Why, yes,” Darlene replied, taking the other hand.  “Especially for showing off a prissy widdle cwy-baby girl!”



(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 3

When Mrs. Daniels’s daughter Mandy returned home at six, she was in a implacably foul mood.  Her cheerleading squad, of which she was co-captain, had just lost the regional finals, and the beautiful but spoiled teenager was ready to vent her ire on any easy target.

Normally, Sissy Muffin would greet Mandy at the door and follow her like an adoring puppy to her bedroom.  There Mandy would sit on the edge of the bed, and while she made a series of phone calls, the sissy would gently remove her cheerleader’s red and white saddle-oxford shoes and white athletic socks, now quite damp with perspiration.

Next, as the arrogant blond teen gossiped nonchalantly for an hour or so, the sissy would perform its lowly task of tongue-bathing the girl’s hot, smelly feet.  The devoted, effeminate slave would send its little pink tongue between each of the teen girl’s toes, s-ck happily for at least a half minute on each one, and then complete its daily chore by tongue-lapping each sole until it was restored to its lovely, soft, pink cleanness.

Poor, frustrated little Muffin shamefully harbored the ambition of one day being allowed to tongue-clean other parts of the adorable Miss Mandy, parts higher up on her magnificent young body.  But, once her pretty feet were clean, the snooty teen would dismiss her foot-licker with a light but contemptuous heel-kick to its tiny sissy face.  The pathetic pansy would then put away Miss Mandy’s things and disappear, often tearfully, from the proud girl’s cozy, perfumed sanctuary.

Today, however, lovely, sulky Mandy Daniels had absolutely no patience for her sissy slave.  When she entered the house and saw that her feminized possession was not wearing frilly sissy panties but a big, bulky white diaper, her anger knew no bounds.

“Why are you wearing that stupid diaper, faggot?”

“M-m-misthwess told me to, Missth Mandy.”

“We’ll see about that.”  Mandy clutched Muffin’s ear with her sharp fingertips and dragged the screaming fairy into the kitchen where she found her mother mixing herself a coc-ktail.

“Hello, darling, how did the cheer-off go?”

“Lousy.  The other team cheated and the judges pretended not to notice.  I hate them all.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mandy,” said Mrs, Daniels giving the disconsolate teen a hug.  “I know how much it meant to you.  Tell you what.  We’ll go out to eat tonight and do a little shopping afterwards.  Getting some new outfits always puts you in a better mood.”

“I’m not hungry.  I don’t want to go shopping.  What I do want to know is why my sissy is wearing that ridiculous diaper.”

“Oh, isn’t it hilarious?  It was Darlene’s inspiration.  Dressing Muffin like a baby will shame your naughty sissy into controlling its wee-wee better.  And so far it seems to be working brilliantly.  We went for a walk in the park with the fairy wearing its new diaper and baby dress, and by the time we got back the sissy was babbling hysterically about how good it was going to be.”

“But, Mommy, it looks so dumb!  I don’t want a baby-sissy in diapers and booties.  I want a little-girl sissy that I can dress in sexy stockings and outrageous panties and little f*ck-me skirts.  Baby sissies are for elementary school girls.  No girl my age has a sissy in diapers.  It’s just so uncool.”

It was true.  Even in permissive times, adolescent girls would only go so far in tarting themselves up to attract boys.  So affluent teens who owned sissies were now dressing their living dolls in preposterously frilly and embarrassingly skimpy costumes as stalking horses.  It was the sissy with a wiggling frou-froued fanny who caught a handsome boy’s eye, but it was the proud girl holding the leash who would later end up on the boy’s lap with her tongue in his mouth. 

“I understand, darling.  But you can hardly expect me to allow your sissy’s obscene p-nis to ruin all the dainty panties I’ve bought for it.  And I know you have no tolerance for the prissy thing getting an erection in your presence.  You’ve certainly had me correct it often enough.”

“But there’s got to be some better way.  Karen’s sissy never gets erections any more without her permission.”

“Well, Mandy, sissies are not all alike. In any case, I’ve already paid Darlene a considerable sum for the baby outfits, and so this is the course of action we shall take until Muffin improves it deportment.”

“I don’t care how much you spent,” said the angry cheerleader, shaking her thick blond braids back and forth,  “It’s ugly and stupid and I don’t want it.  I’m not going to take it to school any more.  I don’t even want it in my room.  I’ll call Daddy and ask him to buy me another sissy.  You can give this repulsive thing to some underprivileged girl.  Or take it downtown and leave it in some faggot bar.”

With that, the furious teen stomped out of the kitchen, down the hall, and slammed her bedroom door.

Mandy hoped that her doting mother would eventually give in.  However, several days passed and Mandy realized that tantrums alone would not change Mrs. Daniels’s mind.  Then one evening as the sexy teenager playfully posed nude in front of her closet door mirror, her intelligent but cruel mind devised a plan that would get Muffin back into panties, cause the poor sissy dreadful torment, and provide selfish Mandy with loads of erotic entertainment.

Over the next week, poor Muffin found itself the victim of one dirty trick after another.

On Monday, Mandy sneaked into the powder room just after the sissy slave had thoroughly scrubbed, rinsed and wiped clean every inch of its surface.  Mandy pulled down her panties, sat on the toilet and began blissfully urinating.  But just before she finished, she shifted her lovely bottom up and to the left so that her stream flowed onto the seat, down the outside of the bowl and onto the newly cleaned tile floor.

Minutes later when Mrs. Daniels was leading Muffin by the nose to inspect the condition of the bathrooms, the messy toilet and floor were discovered.  The consequences for the pathetic sissy were horrifying but inevitable.  Muffin’s face, which was attached to Mrs. Daniels’s nose-pointer was forced into the offending puddle.  Then, vigorously encouraged by the application of a thin cane to bare buttocks, the fairy’s little pink tongue began the loathsome task of making everything clean and white again.

Peeking through a crack in the door, Mandy thrilled to the whistle of the flailing switch and the shrieks of the punished pansy.  The girl let her fingers creep under her cheerleader’s skirt to play against the front panel of her red satin panties.
   
(To be continued)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 4

On Tuesday, while Muffin, wearing a tight pink leotard, was practicing its ballet movements in the living room before Mrs. Daniels’s hyper-critical eye, Mandy crept softly into the sissy’s tiny bedroom, pulled off her cheerleader’s panties and stuffed them under the mattress where her plaything slept.  Mandy had worn the knickers for two days in a row so that it would be obvious to any neutral observer that the undergarment was quite used.

Later, after dinner while the sissy-slave stood on a step stool at the sink scrubbing pots and pans, Mandy and her mother lingered at the dining table discussing school matters.  Mandy said, almost as an afterthought, “Oh Mommy, this morning I noticed that a pair of my cheerleading panties is missing.  They’re not in my dresser, not in the laundry, and not in my locker at school.”

“Well, Mandy, I trust you were careful not leave your scanties on the floor for a perverted little sissy sneak to steal and sniff when it is alone.”

“Oh no, Mommy.  You warned me that Muffin would try something disgusting like that, and I’m always careful to keep my undies under lock until they’re washed and dried.”

“Then how do you suppose they went missing?  I know you’re not absent-minded.”

“Gosh, I can’t imagine.  Let me think.  Hmmmm.  Wait a minute.  Last Saturday, I had come home from practice with my cheer panties in my gym bag.  I was putting things away, and the doorbell rang.  It was a delivery. You know, those college guides we ordered.  I wonder if I forgot about putting away my panties while I was looking through the guides.”

Mrs. Daniels’s beautiful face became quite stern.  She picked up a small silver bell in front of her and rang it once.  The dutiful sissy slave came running in and curtsied in front of the domineering woman.

“Sissy, a pair of Miss Mandy’s red satin cheerleading panties have gone missing.  Do you know anything about them?”

“Oh, Misthwess, I’m not awowed to touchth Missth Mandy’s pantiesth.”

Mrs. Daniels’s open palm flew across the sissy’s face, making a loud “smack” on impact and leaving her red finger marks on its little cheek.

“Did I ask what you were permitted to do, little imbecile?  Now answer the question or Miss Switch will pay a very painful visit to your fanny!”

“I’m s-s-stho sthorry, Misthwess, b-b-but I don’t know what happened to Missth Mandy’s pantiesth.  Sob. Weally.”

“We shall see about that,” said the unyielding woman, who ordered the sissy to lead her and Mandy to its little room.  The terrified sissy was made to take everything out of its little closet, empty all of the drawers in its little dresser, and strip the covers from its little cot.

Mrs. Daniels disdainfully probed the piles of clothes with the toe of her high heeled pump and then gave up.

“All right, Miss Priss, this room is a disgrace.  I want everything back in order, neat as a pin in five minutes.”

“Oh Mommy?” said Mandy in the most innocent of voices.  “I wonder if Muffin could be hiding something under its mattress.”  Mrs. Daniels walked over to the bed, raised the mattress and there lay her daughter's panties exactly where the girl had planted them just two hours earlier.

The sissy screamed -- first in shock, then at the certain agony that awaited it.

A few minutes later, after Muffin’s little body had been strapped into a chair to await a severe wee-wee chastisement, Mandy asked,

“Mommy, since I’m the one that discovered the stolen panties, can I be the one to scrub little Muffin’s naughty thingie with the hairbrush?”

“Not this time, darling.  But I will let you grab its dic-kie at the base and pull the skin down so that it is taut and ready to receive the sharp strokes of the bristles.”

Mandy was ecstatic to be a party to the torment.  She pulled on a pair of latex gloves, held the stiffened wiener inside her pretty fist, and pulled down so hard the sissy shrieked before the brushing had even begun.

The punishment lasted fifteen minutes and Mandy’s hand savored each twist and turn of the disobedient fairy’s pelvis as it struggled in vain to escape the relentless bristles.

When the sissy stopped its pathetic squeaking, Mandy realized that its tiny voice had gone hoarse.  With her pleasure stoked to the melting point, Mandy crossed her legs, tightened her thigh muscles and came magnificently.

 (To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 5

The next day, another drama took place when Mrs. Daniels discovered one of her own panties out of place and lying among her neatly arranged collection of shoes.  Not only were the blue silk briefs twisted and wrinkled, but to Mrs. Daniel’s utter disgust the gusset was wet and sticky with a substance that bore the unmistakable odor of semen.

“Sissy!  Come here this instant!”

What Mrs. Daniels did not know was that her daughter had stolen the panties from her the day before and taken them to school with her. During study hall she chose to sit very close to a nerdy freshman who for months had confessed his undying love for her and whom Mandy had treated with cruelest contempt. 

Today, however, the pigtailed teen manipulated him to do her bidding.  Touching his arm, batting her eyelashes, and whispering seductively, Mandy flirted with him full tilt until the boy was wild with desire. By the time the hour was over, she had persuaded the nerd to provide a “tribute” of his love for her.  Handing him a plastic baggie containing the delicate blue briefs, Mandy commanded him to go into a bathroom stall, jerk himself into a frenzy and shoot his jism into the panties.  Later, breathing heavily and sick with shame and heartache, the nerd came out of the lavatory and meekly presented Mandy with the package of sperm-soaked unmentionables. 

“Ewww!  I’m not going to touch it, sh*t-head” she hissed angrily.  “Here, drop it into this envelope.”  The wanker-loser did as instructed, and Mandy started to leave.

“Wait!” said the lovesick boy.  “Can we, um, like go out on a date or something?”

“In your wet dreams, jack-off,” said the beautiful girl as she walked off, swaying her adorable bottom in its short pleated skirt.

It had then been a simple matter for Mandy to return home, wait until the next morning, and plant the sticky panties right where her mother was sure to spot them.

Obsessively finicky about her own clothing, Mrs. Daniels was so furious with what she perceived as Muffin’s treachery that she announced that the sissy would be professionally punished.  She then drove the weeping pansy to the home of Michelle Chen, a beautiful Chinese-American nurse skilled in the art of acupuncture. Placed in her capable hands, Muffin over the next two hours was made to endure a unique and excruciating form of corporal punishment.

As Mrs. Daniels gleefully watched, the disobedient fairy was strapped face down on a massage table.  Then the nurse opened the back flap of its diaper and gently swathed the buttocks with alcohol, cooing to the sissy about what a cute little girl’s bottom it had.

Michelle began the procedure by picking up a long, sterilized needle and teasing the fairy with light surface pinpricks close to the cleft of the fanny cheeks.  The frightened thing tried to arm itself by clenching its buttock muscles.

“Don’t worry, Diaper Baby.  It won’t be much longer,” she promised cynically.  Then, when Muffin could no longer hold its muscles tight, the cruel nurse drove the needle deep into the relaxed flesh.  The sissy’s high-pitched squeal filled the room.

“Oh, I love its baby girl voice!” she exclaimed.  “What a fun plaything you’ve bought for your daughter.” 

Michelle left the first needle sticking out of Muffin’s rear end and picked up another to insert. The light pricking was repeated until the sissy’s resistance collapsed; then the needle was forced all the way in.

“Eeeeeeee!  Eeeeeeee!”  poor Muffin shrieked.

Soon sissy’s petite bottom resembled a pincushion. The skilled technician knew exactly where to probe and how to twist in order to maximize and prolong Muffin’s agony. She broke into laughter repeatedly as the darling’s rear end bucked up and down trying futilely to expel the needles sticking out of it.

Handing Mrs. Daniels a needle, Michelle invited her guest to participate.  After the nurse pointed to a spot, Mrs. Daniels playfully poked around the target, and then, as she sensed the fairy let down its guard, thrust the metal home.

“Why, it’s wonderful,” exclaimed the novice.  “I can feel the naughty brat shuddering right to the top of the needle.”

“Yes, don’t you love it?  Here, try another.”
 
When Michelle saw that Muffin was completely exhausted, she and Mrs. Daniels took a coffee break while Muffin lay alone in the operating room, howling in pain, its buttocks full of sharp probes.   

After they had finished their coffee, Michelle removed the needles and told Mrs. Daniels there would be no charge for the service as her session with Muffin had been such a stimulating diversion. Michelle then gave the fairy’s rear a final wipe with alcohol, pinned it back into its diaper, unfastened the restraining straps and gave the weeping patient a little lollipop to s*ck on.

“Come back soon, Diaper Baby.”

Mrs. Daniels was so turned on by the experience that she had to stop at her boyfriend’s houseboat on the way home.  While sissy Muffin stood with its nose in the corner s-cking its lolly, Mrs. Daniels mounted her lover’s beautiful erect phallus and rode at a gallop to three delirious orgasms.

(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

so far a good story, I'm wondering if Mandy is going to be caught and punished for doing these things.

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 6

Mandy had just one more trap to set for her foolish sissy.  It would be the final straw to convince her mother that Muffin should be a pantied, not diapered pansy.

For the past week the teen girl had been so brutally cruel to her plaything, that the sissy took pains to avoid Mandy, cringing and retreating whenever she walked into a room.  Of course, Mandy was delighted with that display of fear, for she prized her ability to terrorize or tantalize her toy with equal ease.

Today, her plans required that she arouse such a mindless lust in little Muffin that she could pull it around as easily as a balloon on a string.  To that effect this morning Mandy had put on a cheerleader’s uniform borrowed from a younger, smaller teammate.  The tight little vest forced Mandy’s saucy young bre-sts upward, enticingly exposing the top half of her bosom.  The short, short pleated skirt barely covered her hips and displayed every inch of Mandy’s smooth, slender legs. 

Mandy preened before the closet door mirror, experimenting with come-hither expressions that combined licking her lips and tilting her head coyly to one side.

Satisfied with the look, Mandy opened her bedroom door and called down the hall, “Muffin, come up to my room.  I need your help.”

As she waited for the sissy, Mandy seated herself on the edge of her bed, lifted her very brief skirt and gave the front of her red satin panties two squirts of the erotic perfume Teen Heet.  She had just let the skirt fall back in place when little Muffin appeared at her door.

“You may enter, sissy,” said the smirking blond girl.

The obedient fairy curtsied and then took two mincing steps into the spoiled teenager’s elegant boudoir.  Muffin followed the rule that it keep its head bowed when summoned by its owner.  However, Mandy smiled to see that the little fairy couldn’t help but sneak glances at her beautiful bare legs.

“Well, Muffin, I haven’t seen much of you lately.  What have you been doing, sweetie?  Hiding in Mommy’s closet again with a pair of her discarded panties?  Rubbing your nasty pecker and making a disgusting mess on her high heels?”

Muffin lifted its face and urgently protested.  “No, no!  It’s not twue!  I been a good thissthy!  I never touched mysthelf.  I never stole no pantiesth!”

Mandy giggled and shook her lovely head.  “Oh, Muffy, you’re so pathetic.  Sometimes I think you believe your own lies.  Anyway, you are ignoring my question. Why haven’t you come to see me the past few days?  You’ve been cleaning my bathroom and ironing my clothes but have totally neglected your duties to my feet.”

“B-b-but, Missth Mandy, the lasth time I twied to do dat you spit in my faceth.”

Mandy laughed at the memory.  “But, sissy, the look on your silly face when I did that was priceless!  And it was so amusing to watch my spittle dribble down your cheek.  Anyway, don’t worry, princess.  Today I have a lovely treat for you.”

The fairy’s eyes widened.  “Weally?”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” purred the cruel girl.  “Today, I’m going to let sissy rub baby oil on my pretty legs.  Won’t that be fun?”

“Oh, t-t-thank you Missth Mandy.  I would wove to do dat!”

“Then be a good little maid and go get the bottle from my dresser.  That’s right.  Now kneel down on the floor in front on me.  No, closer, stupid.  Ah, thatta girl.  Squeeze just a little bit into your palm and rub your hands together.  Now start right above my white socks and rub the oil into my skin.  That’s right.  Feels nice and warm and smooth. You like it, don’t you Muffy?”

“Oh, yessth, Missth Mandy!”

“Good. Get some more oil and move higher up.  Do you know why girls put baby oil on their legs, sissy?”

“No, Missth Mandy.”

“It makes them smooth and shiny.  It shows off the curves of our calves and knees and thighs.  And it makes us look very sexy for the guys!”

Already poor Muffin was blushing red and breathing heavily.

“More oil now, sweetie, and move higher up.  Get both the front and back of my knees.  I don’t think there’s any doubt that I have the prettiest legs at school, and I want them to look their best at the pep rally today.  You want your owner to look her best, don’t you, little sissy?”

“Oh, yessth, Missth Mandy!”

“Very good, baby.  And now comes the best part.  Now I’m going to lift my left leg up so that you can rub oil on my thigh.  It’s okay, sissy.  Try to stop trembling.  You’re allowed to put your hands there.  I’m giving you permission.”

But the pathetic little pansy was overwhelmed.  It practically swooned as its tiny hands felt the taut muscles beneath the girl's’ smooth skin.  More intoxicating than that was its breathtaking first view of the girl’s crotch, swaddled tightly by the red satin of her cheerleader’s panties.  But above all, there was the fragrance – of the baby oil, of the volatile perfume, and – yes – of the blond teen’s own sublime essence:  vanilla and musk and daffodils.

“Why, sissy, I believe you’re crying.  Did I hurt the widdle thing’s feelings?”

“N-n-no, missth.  I’m j-j-just happy to be sthooo cwose to you.”

“Well, that’s good, sweetie.  Because if you’re a very, very, very good little fairy, I’ll let you get even closer.  Okay, diaper baby, time to do the other thigh now . . . You see, Muffy, the real treat in store for you is tonight.  Today if you do exactly as I tell you without hesitation or back-talk, before you go to bed tonight I’ll put your little sissy face right between my legs!”

Muffin was on the verge of fainting.

“That’s right, princess.  Your face.  Between.  My legs!  And what’s more, I’ll give you permission to sniff and lick the front of my panties!  Think about it, Muffin.  It will be as close as a sissy like you will ever get to having sex with a pretty girl like me.”

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh,” babbled the frantic fairy.

“And all little Muffin has to do to earn its treat is obey me.  Without question.”

(To be continued.)