MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 7

Mandy had not visited Sissyland School in several days, not since her mother had insisted on putting Muffin in punishment diapers.  As Mandy wanted a little-girl sissy, like the ones her friends owned, she found it humiliating to have to be seen in public with her diaper-clad fairy.  Therefore, Mrs. Daniels had been the one who dropped off and picked up Muffin in recent days.

However, this morning to her mother’s surprise, Mandy offered to escort Muffin to Sissyland herself.

“Mommy, I’ve decided to take more responsibility for my plaything.  As long as Muffin’s enrolled in sissy classes, I should talk to its teachers and learn about its progress.  And don’t worry about picking sissy up this afternoon.  I’ll do that too.”

Mrs. Daniels was grateful to be relieved of the chore and pleased with Mandy’s renewed interest in her toy.

“Thank you, Mandy.  I would appreciate that.  But do remember to compel sissy to wiggle its little rear end when you parade it in public. The pathetic thing has been so shy since we put it in diapers, that it has nearly forgotten its duty to prance and show itself off.”

“Of course, Mommy.  Sissy understands I have no hesitation about spanking its bare fanny in front of strangers. If I can’t have a prissy-swishy little fairy that makes people go ‘Oooh’ and ‘Ahhh,’ then I’ll just make do with a silly crybaby with red b-tt cheeks that makes people go ‘Ha-ha-ha!’  Come on, Muffy, let’s show Mommy what a saucy little tail-wagger you are.  Go out the front door and pick up the morning paper at the foot of the driveway.  And, remember, if I’m not satisfied you’ll have to do it a second time – with a very sore and very bare fanny.”

Dreading the consequences of failure but also motivated by Mandy’s earlier promise of an intimate bedroom reward, frantic Muffin sashayed down the front walk with its derrière rotating like a hula dancer’s.

“For heavens sake, look at it go!” exclaimed Mrs. Daniels. “You’ve got Miss Priss wrapped around your little finger, Mandy.  Why, it’s obvious that you have a natural gift for exercising authority over others.  One day that quality will earn you great success and prestige, darling.”

“Thank you, Mommy.  Well, we’d better be off.  If we get to Sissyland early enough I’ll be able to conference with Amy or Rachel.”

In fact, Mandy and Muffin arrived well before any other student had been dropped off.  The teachers, Amy and Rachel, were in the process of laying out crayons and construction paper for the darlings to use in making scrapbooks.  These were to be records of the sissies' learning experience in their own words and pictures.  The journal would also list the ways it could better please its owner in future months.  Scrapbooks were an essential component of the owner-worship Sissyland Day School instilled in its pupils.

“Well, look if it isn’t Miss Mandy with her Sissy Muffin!” said the ebullient Amy Banner when the cheerleader and her living dolly walked in.

“Good morning, Missth Amy and Missth Wachel,” said the fairy, making a ridiculous curtsy by holding the front of its diaper in its tiny fingertips.

“Hi, Amy, hi, Rachel,” said Mandy as she released her sissy’s hand.  “Amy, I came early to ask a special favor of you.  May we speak in private?”

“Of course! Rachel will keep an eye on princess while we step into my office,” she said, leading the way into the next room.  “Have a seat.  Coffee?”

“Oh, no thanks.  I’ll try to be brief.  I know when we first enrolled Muffin here, you were extremely complimentary about Muffin’s features.  And also very encouraging about the kind of sissy you could turn it into.”

“Yes, Mandy!  Quite honestly, I’ve never seen a sissy with a more perfect little-girl look.  I have no idea what your mother paid for it, but I can tell you that once it’s fully trained, it could fetch a fortune at a New York or London auction.”

“Wow.  Amy, do you think that if you took Muffin home with you for a weekend or two, you could give it the kind of personal training that would make it a really, really good sissy?”

Amy was about to answer but paused to give the blond girl a suspicious look.  “Take it home with me?  Hmmm, I understood from your mother that you are quite jealous of this particular property.  Our ballet instructor Miss Cristina has tried several times to schedule a personal session with your fairy but has always been turned down.”

“Well, I won’t deny that I’m possessive.  But for the next two weekends, I will have very little time for my plaything.  It might as well be where it could do itself some good.”  The girl, paused, gave Amy a conspiratorial smile and added, “Or you some good.”

The beautiful sissy teacher tugged thoughtfully at a lock of her light brown pixie cut and returned the smile.  “Look, honey, nothing would please me more than to spend a lazy Sunday with little Muffin’s face strapped to me in a crotch harness . . . but I have a hunch there may be a string attached.”

Mandy giggled.  “Just an itsy-bitsy one.”

     *  *  *

It was four o’clock.  Holding Miss Amy’s hand, Sissy Muffin was waiting at the front steps of the school for its owner to arrive.  And poor Muffin was in terrible distress. 

Since lunchtime, the little fairy had wanted to go tinkle, but permission had always been denied.  It couldn’t go because it hadn’t cleaned its table properly after tea and sandwiches.  Or it couldn’t go because it needed additional practice at the ballet barre.  Or it couldn’t go because it had fidgeted too much in its seat during “quiet time.”  And now, even now, it couldn’t go because school was over and its owner would arrive any minute to pick it up.

“Ooooh, ooooh, Missth Amy, I hafta go sthooo bad!  Pwease wet me go tinkle.”

Amy’s beautiful face looked down and laughed at the squirming pansy.  “Nonsense, Muffin.  After all, you’ve held it this long; you can wait a little longer. Besides, I can’t let you go to the potty by yourself.  I’ve been warned that you have a nasty habit of making stiffies and spermies. That will never happen on my watch.”

“But Thissthy Sthortcake isth sthtill here.  It can come with me!”

“Don’t be silly.  Shortcake’s owner is due any moment.  She’ll have no patience to wait while you’re lingering in the little girl’s room. And I certainly can’t go with you to the potty; my duty is to stand here until all sissies have departed.”

Muffin could not understand what was happening.  Unlike the moody and petulant Miss Rachel, Amy had always been a good-natured and supportive sissy trainer to Muffin.  Why had she suddenly turned so cruel and taken such pleasure in the poor thing’s frustration? 

(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 8



Muffin was so relieved at the arrival of Miss Mandy and Miss Karen’s sportscars that the pathetic pansy began to weep with joy.



“Was my Muffin a good sissy today?” asked Mandy, climbing out of her roadster, flashing red panties as her beautiful legs swung out.  The haughty blond teen was stunning in her short-short cheer skirt and tight-tight cheer vest.



“Not too much trouble,” answered Amy.  “I gave Diaper Baby a few demerits for being restless in its seat. On the other hand,” she said turning to Karen, “your Shortcake was good as gold and won Sissy of the Day again!  Well, time to lock up.  I will see you  sweet sissies again tomorrow.”



“Oh, Shortcake!” screamed the other pretty cheerleader, her long straight brown hair moving in waves as she jumped up and down.  “Come here, sweetheart, and give me a big kiss.”



Blessed with a trim, petite figure and only slightly taller than her sissy, Karen nonetheless had no trouble sweeping Shortcake off the pavement and into her arms.  The delighted red-haired fairy spread its legs and was pulled up to straddle Miss Karen’s slim hips.  Holding its white pantied bottom up in one arm, the co-captain of the cheering squad grabbed Shortcake’s small freckled face with her free hand and kissed it tenderly on the lips.



Poor Muffin burned with jealousy.  Oh, how its world might have been different if only it were the plaything of Karen, a lovely teenager who was always quick to shower affection on her little-girl sissy!  Muffin could only imagine the exquisite sensation that Shortcake must now be experiencing.  Of wrapping its bare legs around the cheerleader’s mini-skirted hips.  Of feeling her blossoming bosom against its chest.  Of pressing its sissy crotch against her swaying torso.  Of tasting her soft lips and blissfully burying its little face into the luxuriant mass of her long, long hair.



No, Miss Karen did not attain the lofty heights of beauty scaled by Muffin’s blond goddess owner.  But she was very pretty just the same, with fair, delicately freckled skin, a long graceful neck, exciting blue eyes that seemed almost too large for her dainty face, and a mouth that was usually parted as if about to grin or say something funny.  But most importantly, she did not share Mandy’s sinister fetish for causing pain and humiliation.



“Muffin! Where are your manners?  Have you nothing to say to ME?”  Muffin suddenly became aware of its owner and shrank under the glare of her beautiful but scowling face, her lively but glowering green eyes.



Once again Muffin remembered how badly it needed to tinkle.  It so needed to press its legs together but couldn’t as it knew that its owner was impatiently demanding a curtsy.



“Hewwo, Missth Mandy.  I’m sthoo gwad to sthee you.”  Once again the fairy pinched the edges of its white diaper and lowered itself into the position of respect.



The cruel, pig-tailed girl sniggered at her cowardly sissy-slave and turned to her fellow cheerleader.



“Kare, I was  thinking that as long as we’re in the neighborhood, we should hang up some of the signs for the car-wash on Saturday.  I have a stapler and plenty of posters in the trunk of my car.”



“That’s cool, Mand, I’ll be—“



“B-b-but, Missth Mandy, I hafta go to the baffwoom,” said Muffin.



Silence.  And then Mandy’s lovely young hand came out of nowhere.  It slapped Muffin’s face so hard that the poor thing toppled to the ground.



“How dare you interrupt Karen, you ill-mannered little slut!  You will kiss her shoes and apologize this instant!”



Poor Muffin, its cheek stinging from the healthy teen’s violent blow, its heart aching for a gentle and loving owner, its bladder at the bursting point, crawled across the rough sidewalk surface to pretty Miss Karen and began to plant supplicating kisses on her neat little oxfords.



“I’m sthoo sthorry, Miss, Karen for intewuptin’ you.”  



“I forgive you, Muffy,” said the generous brunette.  “You may get up now.”  Then, looking back at Mandy, Karen said, “Why not give me the signs, and you can take Muffin home to tinkle?"



Mandy shook her head, the thick pigtails throwing off red and gold light as they swayed in the autumn afternoon.



“No, I’m going to deal with Muffin and its constantly rude and inconvenient wee-wee right now.”



She grabbed her toy by its tiny chin and raised its face to meet her own fierce glance.  “Does widdle Diaper Baby Miffin have to go tinkle-tinkle?”



The terrified fairy could barely answer.  “Y-y-yessth.”



“Then what are you waiting for?  P-ss in you diaper, sissy!”



Muffin was aghast.  “B-b-but, Missth Mandy, I’m not sthuppossthed to do dat!  Misthwesss sthaid thesthe are punisthment diapersth, not pee-pee diapersth.



Again, Mandy’s pitiless open palm struck the pathetic creature.  This time she held its chin firmly so that the prissy thing’s face would absorb all the energy the athletic girl put into her swing.



“Owwwwww!”



“P-ss in your diaper, sissy!”



“Okay, okay. Pwease, pwease don’t sthlap me again!”



Silence fell. Muffin writhed in discomfort as its audience watched intently.  Mandy, smirking gleefully at her plaything’s dilemma.  Karen, her big blue eyes and parted lips expressing anticipation of something wonderful about to unfold.  And Shortcake, happy not to be in its fellow sissy’s place, s-cking contentedly on its thumb.



Try as it might, Muffin could not wet itself in front of them.  But suddenly the fairy remembered the events of that morning.  Kneeling in front of its blond idol.  Stroking her perfect thighs.  Inhaling her very scent.  And hearing the promised reward for obeying her every command that day:  “Your face.  Between.  My legs.”



Then it happened.  First a trickle.  More.  Finally the floodgates opened.  The warm liquid began soaking its crotch.  Soon the front of the crisp white diaper turned a tell-tale yellow.  Then to Muffin’s horror, the tinkle ran down both of its bare legs to soak its frilly white anklet socks.



Mandy whooped in triumph.  “I told you I could make the weakling do it!”



Karen whooped too, and the girls slapped a victorious high five.



“Oh, Mandy, that was so wicked!  You made it wet itself even though it knew it’s going to be punished for it.  You go, girl!”



(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 9

As the cheerleaders walked to their parked cars, Muffin tried to follow.  But Mandy had other ideas.

“Muffy, home is a long walk from here, so you better get started now or Mommy will spank you for being late.”

“Huh?  Walk?  I can’t wide wiff you, Missth Mandy?”

Now Mandy played the gentle temptress.  She leaned close to her sissy’s face so that it would see her cleavage and feel her breath on its lips.  As she lightly stroked its face with her hand -- the same hand that had smacked it silly only a minute before -- she said in a sexy-childish voice,

“Oh poor thing doesn’t understand.  I’ll explain, precious.  You see, there’s this widdle sissy baby who just went pee-pee in its sissy diaper.  Baby’s diaper is now all soaking wet and even baby’s widdle sissy anklets got damp with pee-pee.  Baby needs to go home and put on a nice, clean diaper.  The problem is baby’s owner is not gonna let baby ride in her car.  Baby’s owner loves her car and doesn’t want her pretty red leather seats spoiled by a nasty, wet diaper.  And that’s why Muffy’s gonna hop like a bunny back home.  All the way.  All by its widdle, sissy self.”

By the time the pretty girl had finished with her derisive and teasing lecture, her plaything’s face was wet with tears.  Mandy felt a tingle inside her panties and could hardly wait to touch herself.

“Better get going, Miss Priss.  Otherwise you won’t make it home before dark.”

Sobbing, the little thing in bonnet and wet diaper began to waddle down the sidewalk in a direction that it hoped would lead it back to the Daniels’s residence.

“No, sissy!  I said ‘hop’!  Put your feet together and bounce like a little fairy bunny!”

Muffin knew it must obey.  The whimpering milksop in baby clothes went up on its tiptoes and began to take little jumps down the sidewalk.

Mandy, Karen, and Karen’s little sissy all burst into laughter.

  *   *   *

An hour later the exhausted sissy -- having passed parks, playgrounds and front yards full of laughing, jeering children -- at last reached its destination.  There the weary Muffin found one thing to give it cheer.  The garage door was open; Mandy’s car was parked there, but Mrs. Daniels car was not.  That meant that Muffin would have opportunity to change out its damp, stained clothes before its mistress discovered its offense.

It hurried inside the garage and went to open the door to the kitchen.  But it was locked.

Little Muffin knocked, and announced its return:  “Missth Mandy, I’m home!”

Silence.  Muffin waited and knocked again.

Finally, the deadbolt clicked and the door opened slightly, allowing just enough space for the pretty teen girl’s face to be seen.

“Well?  What do you want, little f-ggot?”

“Pwease wet me in, Missth Mandy.  I hafta get a new diaper.  And . . . and I hafta go tinkle again!”

The pigtailed girl put her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh.  She hadn’t thought of this angle.  It would be just too wonderful if sissy piddled again and splattered its shameful pee on her fussy mother’s garage floor.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded.  “I have no intention of letting you into our clean house.  You can stay right there until Mommy comes home.  I want her to see for herself the disgusting thing you did.”

“But, Missth Mandy, you tol’ me to—“

“Shut up, f-ggot!  I’ll tell you what happened.  You had a sissy tantrum at school because sweet Shortcake, not you, was chosen as Sissy of the Day.  Then you reached inside your diaper and started playing with yourself.  I slapped you to make you stop.  And then you said, ‘I’ll show you.  I’m gonna wet my diaper.’  And then you went and p-ssed all over yourself.”

“No-o-o-o. It’sth not twue.”

“Shut up.  That’s exactly what happened, and that’s exactly what you’ll tell Mommy.  Or I’ll make you very sorry.”

Muffin was so outraged at this fiction that it turned red with anger and was on the verge of performing a real tantrum.

Then Mandy smiled, her face turned angelically beautiful, and her voice eased into a caress.  “Let’s see,” she said gazing upward and placing a finger on her chin.  “What’s on my to-do list for tonight?  Wash my face . . . brush my teeth . . . brush my hair . . . and  . . . um . . . something else.  What was it?  Oh, now I remember!”

First she raised her tawny eyebrows as it to announce the arrival of a royal entourage.  Then she raised the front of her cheerleading skirt, exposing her adorable red satin panties.  “Yes!  Of course!  Tonight I’m supposed to get my undies licked by a little pink fairy.”

Muffin gazed in wonder at her perfect form and felt faint at the hope offered by her teasing words.

She continued, “I thought this service was going to be performed by my own little sissy.  But now I think Muffy has changed its silly mind. Otherwise why would it be raising its squeaky voice and sassing me?  Hmmm?  If Muffy can’t remember that it’s supposed to obey all my commands, I might have to get another sissy, maybe Shortcake, to do the tongue-lapping of my pretty panties.”

With that, the lovely girl winked at the miserable pansy and slammed and locked the door.

It is unfortunate that Muffin, now desperately aroused and confused, did in fact need to tinkle again.  It is also unfortunate that Mandy was making it wait in the locked garage and had maliciously closed the overhead door so that the sissy could not even tinkle outside over the lawn.  But most unfortunate of all is that the moment that Muffin chose at last to relieve itself was the very moment that Mrs. Daniels arrived home.  When the outside door opened and her luxury sedan pulled into the garage, its headlights caught droplets leaving the sissy’s soaked diaper to fall on the shiny concrete floor.

The professional model, with calculated calm, exited the car and turned on a wall switch that illuminated the entire room.  She had come straight home from a photo shoot and was wearing a stretch silver lamé mini-dress with a neckline so scooped that virtually the only part of her bre-sts unexposed were the nipples.  A pair of matching silver high heel pumps made her tower over the shameful sissy.

“M-m-misthwess, I—“

The sexy woman delivered a loud and painful slap to the left side of Muffin’s face.  It hit the sore side of the pansy’s face, as both Mrs. Daniels and Mandy were right-handed.

“That is to remind you, sissy, that every word of explanation that comes out of your pretty little mouth must be absolutely true or you will suffer three times as much pain!”

Then in a halting, tear-choked voice, Muffin accounted for its wet diapers just as Mandy had preordained it.  The sissy had been jealous of the awards and attention shown to Shortcake. Muffin had thrown a tantrum.  Then it had tried to play with itself.  Finally, just to be spiteful, it had wet its diaper.

Mrs. Daniels held Muffin’s tiny wet face in her soft, elegant hands.  “For an offense such as this,” she said calmly, “I’d normally have you professionally punished by a nurse or an experienced dominatrix.  But since you have made what appears to be a full confession, I’ll discipline you myself.”

“Thank you, sob, Misthwess.”

She left the sissy alone in the garage and returned in a few minutes with Mandy, who was merrily skipping, excited by the prospect of seeing her plaything undergo yet another ordeal.

Then Muffin saw the chosen implement of correction.  The gorgeous woman in the tight silver dress had brought with her several thin rattan switches and was testing each one for both strength and flexibility.

Muffin groaned with dread.  The effeminate thing was going to have to pay a very high price for the privilege of putting its little face between Miss Mandy’s perfect teen thighs.

(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 10

“Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack! . . . Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!”

Mrs. Daniels was trying out one of her switches.  Her beautifully manicured left hand rested on the hip of her silver lamé mini-dress.  The other hand wielded a supple palm stem. She raised the cane over her head and in one swift, elegant movement slammed the instrument to its target.

“Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!”
As she slashed the cane downward, the fashion model could feel her dress rise up and tighten over her frequently photographed rear end.  She knew her waiting victim would drink in this enticing display and that the victim’s shameful lust would mount as rapidly as its dread.

The target for the test was the smooth concrete floor of the garage.  In a moment it would be the soft flesh of a sissy’s b-ttocks.

“Yes, I believe this one will do nicely,” she said, tossing back her mane of light brown curls and sensuously fondling the switch’s thin tip.

Muffin, wearing a bonnet, baby dress and wet diaper began boo-hooing again.

“There, there, precious,” said the fashion model, placing one of her long red fingernails on the sissy’s girlish lips.  “I know you’re eager for mistress to begin.  But possess your soul in patience.  We must first get our sissy-baby ready for a special visit from Miss Switch!”

Of course these mocking words only increased the poor thing’s alarm.

“Mandy, will you be a dear and bind Muffin’s little hands together in front with those velcro straps?”

“I would love to, Mommy!” The girl leaped to the task.  “Here, Muffy, hold out your arms and put your palms together.  Good girl!”

The pretty teen in the tight cheerleading uniform then secured the sissy’s hands so that they would offer no resistance when the attack on its bottom began.

“Well done,” said Mrs. Daniels.  “Now, darling, will you be so kind as to remove the pink safety pins from sissy’s soggy diaper?”

“Of course, Mommy,” answered the girl with blond pigtails.  “Muffy has been begging me all afternoon to take off its diaper.  Now baby is finally going to get its wish.  In a minute Muffy is going to be so much happier, aren’t you, sweetie?”

As she spoke, the girl’s lips grazed Muffin’s neck, and the poor thing shuddered with both desire and terror.

Mandy unclipped one, then the other safety pin.  The excited girl expected the diaper to fall to the floor.  But then she saw that the shameful little pansy was clenching its thighs together and holding the diaper to its loins.

“Oh, this will not do,” scolded Mrs. Daniels.  “Our naughty sissy must like wearing wet diapers for it refuses to release the one it’s wearing.  Mandy dear, please encourage sissy to cooperate by kicking the stubborn brat in its shin.”

Mandy trilled with joy at the assignment.  She moved several paces away from the bound fairy.  Then, taking a breath, she ran back towards it and, with a flying kick, slammed the toe of her red and white oxford into the fairy’s right shin.

“Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee!” squealed the effeminate creature.  As it hopped in pain, the sodden diaper fell to the floor.

But the strict Mrs. Daniels was not pleased.  “Why, Sissy Muffin, how dare you?  It’s bad enough that you wet your lovely, hand-embroidered diaper.  But now you point your ugly and very stiff wee-wee at me.  Have I not already given you several painful lessons in the deportment of a sissy’s p-nis?”

While in agony from the athletic girl’s vicious kick, Muffin could not overcome the arousal it had experienced at the sight of Mrs. Daniels’s tight silver dress, or the touch of pretty teen Mandy’s lips on its neck, or the girl’s mischievous hands that stroked his dainty torso as she removed the diaper pins.

“S-s-sthorry, Misthwess, but I, sob, can’t help it.”

“Nonsense!  In any case, we will not have to endure this very unladylike display much longer. Mandy, strap little Muffin’s ankles together. Good.  Now, sissy, I want you to go up on tippitoes just as your ballet instructor has taught you.  Next, reach down and try to touch your feet.”

“Yessth, Misthwess.”

“Good, little sissy, but you must keep your legs straight.  I want your tiny fingers to reach for your toes, but under no circ-umstances bend your knees.”

The effect of this difficult posture was to make poor Muffin’s girlish fanny the most prominent part of its anatomy.  The cheeks of the sissy’s adorable bottom pushed up and away from its back and legs.  With the overhead light shining on its satiny, milk-white skin, Mrs. Daniels was almost breathless with anticipation. 

“I know you’re trying, missy, but it’s not quite good enough.  You need a little encouragement, don’t you?”

At that point, the beautiful woman pulled a white latex glove onto her left hand, wiggled her elegant fingers into it, and then with a final tug it loudly snapped into place.

“Now, Mandy, I want you to stand in front of sissy.  It can’t lift its head up enough to see your lovely face, but it will have a nice view of the pretty legs of the proud girl that it adores above all others.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Now, sissy, we cannot begin until I have your adorable fanny in the best possible position.  Again, go high up on your ballerina toes, lock your knees, bend downward and try to touch the floor.  Here, this will provide some incentive.”

With that, the woman in the tight silver dress stepped close to Muffin’s left side and reached her gloved hand between the pansy’s legs to grasp its hairless scrotum.  There was a sudden intake of air by the startled, super-sensitive sissy.

“Now, let’s see how this feels, baby.”  Mrs. Daniels then twisted and squeezed the helpless creature’s ball sack. 

The results were remarkable and immediate.  True, the girlish thing gave off a high-pitched shriek.  But more relevant to Mrs. Daniels’s purpose, in order to escape the disciplinarian’s crushing, gloved hand, the poor sissy pushed its fanny at least two inches upward.

“Perfect, my sweet!”

The rattan rose to the ceiling and came down with a fearsome hiss.  And again.  And again.

“Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!”

“Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee!”

Mrs. Daniels breathed heavily as she examined the damage.  Just enough force had been applied.  The skin had not been cut, but the limber whip had left three angry red stripes on the smooth surface of sissy’s pretty little bottom.

During the pause, poor Muffin had relaxed its position a bit.

Mrs. Daniels, admonished it with ironic tenderness:  “It’s hard for my prissy ballerina to stay up on its pretty toes, isn’t it?  Don’t worry, precious, Mistress will help with your posture.”

Again, the gloved hand encircled and cruelly compressed the silly sissy balls.  Muffin squeaked and sent its striped fanny heavenward.

“Oh, Mommy!” exclaimed the awed pigtailed girl.  “I’ve never seen such a perfect en pointe, even on real ballerinas – and they wear special slippers!”

“Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!”


(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 11

“Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee!”

The sissy, now dressed only in pink bonnet and booties, shrieked as the thin switch again stung its bare bottom.  Bound hand and foot, bent forward and forced onto tiptoes by Mrs. Daniels’s tight grip on its balls, Muffin was in the most vulnerable position for an attack on its dainty white fanny.

Again the beautiful woman violently deployed the cruel rattan, and the sissy’s cries reached their highest treble:

“Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee! Eeeeeeee!”

Mandy, the pretty cheerleader who had carefully schemed to bring poor Muffin to this extreme chastisement, placed her hands over her ears and stamped her adorable foot.

“Oh, Mommy!  Muffy’s screams are echoing off the concrete floor and walls and making an awfully rude noise.  Can we stuff something in its mouth to silence it?”

Mrs. Daniels paused for a moment to ponder the idea.  “Yes, darling, why not take off one of your socks?  That should do the trick.”

The girl in blond pigtails held up her hand.  “Wait.  I’ve got a better idea.  Let’s use sissy’s own wet diaper as a gag!”

“Ha-ha!  What a clever girl you are.  The diaper will muffle the brat’s squeaking and also serve to remind the shameless pansy of its misdeed.  You heard her, Muffin, go down on your knees and pick up your wet diaper in your mouth.”

“Sob.  Oh, no-o-o-o!  Pwease don’t make me do dat, Misthwess!”

“Sweetie, you are in no position to disobey or sass.  Just a bit more pressure on your sissy balls will remind naughty baby of who’s boss.” 

As Mrs. Daniels raised her beautiful eyebrows, her gloved left hand squeezed and twisted.  Immediately, the miserable sissy yelped and shook its bonneted head in protest.  Nonetheless, there could be no course of action but to obey the shocking command.  Sobbing and red-faced, little Muffin kneeled low and picked up its wet diaper in its mouth.

“There.  That wasn’t so bad, was it, precious?  Now baby is all ready to get back to its punishment.  Up on tippytoes, princess, and bend forward.  I want sissy’s fanny as high as can be.”

“Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!  Schweeeeeeet! . . . Swack!”

Now, in response to the vicious strokes, the little fairy could only make soft grunts:

“Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph!”

Mandy laughed at the ridiculous scene she had engineered.  The only thing that could make it more perfect would be for the sadistic girl herself to be swinging the whip.

Mrs. Daniels worked fastidiously to ensure that the strokes fell evenly but at different angles to produce an orderly cross-hatching of lines over Muffin’s buttocks and upper thighs.  A few more hits here! And there!  And now – yes, the picture was complete.  She cast her whip aside and called for her daughter to see.

“Oh, Mommy!” gushed the lively teen girl, her blond braids rising and falling as she bounced with glee, “Thank you for decorating my sissy’s rear end!  I just love those hot pink stripes!”

“Yesss!” breathed the older woman in the tight silver dress, both winded and aroused by her exertions.  “Don’t the lines contrast beautifully with your plaything’s fair complexion?”

When the exhilarated cheerleader caressed her weeping toy’s derrière, she gasped.  “Oh, Mommy, these lines are raised up!  Is that not adorable!”

Mrs. Daniels smiled and let her own fingers cavort over Muffin’s sore posterior.  At their touch the naughty sissy in pink bonnet and booties moaned through its diaper gag.

“Furthermore, darling, you should be able to enjoy your sissy’s welts for at least another day or two.  That means that Muffin’s naughty b-tt will suffer from even the lightest brush of your fingers.  If the need to spank it should arise, a mere slap from your pretty hand will be every bit as painful as a lash from my rattan.  Best of all, I’ve made sure to place stripes precisely where Muffin’s seat come will come into contact with a chair or stool when it sits.  The poor thing is going to experience many vivid reminders of its disobedience today.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Now, after all this activity I feel the need for a nice soaking in my bathtub.  Mandy, will you be a dear and supervise Muffin’s clean-up of the garage and its soiled baby clothes?”  With that the beautiful woman began unzipping her sexy dress and left the garage.

Mandy would soon have Muffin scurrying about with mop and pail.  But first she lingered with her punished toy.  Her right hand impishly explored and probed the angry red lines, especially where they intersected.

Then while the sissy protested this assault through its disgusting gag, Mandy’s other hand reached inside the waistband of her dampening panties.

  *   *   *

Later, after Muffin had disposed of its soiled garments, scrubbed the garage floor, bathed itself and changed into its little maid’s uniform in order to tidy up the bathrooms, it heard Mrs. Daniels summon it via the house intercom.

The pathetic sissy ran slavishly to the bedroom of the woman who only moments earlier had viciously beaten it.

The professional model had emerged from her bath, and now, dressed only in black silk bra and panties, was standing before her dresser mirror, styling her luxuriant mane of light brown curls.  Without clothes, her legs seemed even longer, her waist narrower, her bre-sts fuller than Muffin had dared imagine.

“Sissy, I called you to assist in dressing me.  Now don’t just stand there gawking like an idiot.  Bring me the outfit that is hanging on my closet door.  As a sissy maid, you will have numerous occasions to serve me in my bedroom before I’m fully dressed.  While I can hardly expect you to be indifferent to my physical beauty, you must never allow your dirty thoughts to interfere in the performance of your duties. Now hold the hanger up and let me have this charming blouse.”

It was black with billowing chiffon sleeves and a tight velvet bodice that pushed up and proudly displayed the top half of the woman’s magnificent bosom.  Buttoning the garment, Mrs. Daniels said,

“Sissy, it was quite foolish of you to think that you could lie to me today and get away with it.”

Muffin’s eyes widened in surprise and terror.  “B-b-but, Missthwess!”

“Stop it!  Don’t even try to defend yourself.  Mandy has told me everything.  You tinkled in your diaper on Mandy’s orders, and then you came home and lied to me about it!  Didn’t you?”

“Y-y-yessth, Missthwess.”

“Take my pants off the hanger, open them up and hold them out for me to step into, sissy.”

The pants were of supple black leather, custom-tailored to fit Mrs. Daniels’s hips and legs perfectly, leaving not a wrinkle or sag.  Understandably, they were difficult to get into and the sexy model had to grab the waistband and jump up and down before her crotch settled snugly into the tight britches.

She then pointed to the lace-up fly.  “Thread the leather strips through the holes, sissy, and then make a nice bow.”

Poor Muffin had never before touched this part of a woman’s anatomy, especially one so beautiful and sexily attired, and sissy’s little hands trembled with excitement and fear.

The proud woman snickered at the pathetic creature and continued,  “It is not necessary for me to remind you of what happens to a sissy brat who lies to me.  It gets punished where it least wants to be punished.  It gets the tip of its little wee-wee thoroughly scrubbed until all the naughtiness is gone out of it.”

Poor Muffin’s hands shook violently now – both from fear of its mistress’s threat and arousal from the warmth radiating from her loins. 

“While it is true that Mandy also lied, at least she finally explained what really happened.  To reward her honesty, I have decided to grant Mandy something she has long wished for.”

Mrs. Daniels reached down to caress the frightened sissy’s cheek. 

“I’m placing her in full control of your p-nis scrubbing tonight.”
 
(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 12

After Muffin finished lacing up Mrs. Daniels’s tight leather pants, the mistress ordered the sissy to help her into a pair of six-inch black stiletto heels.  Fully attired, the high-fashion model then led Sissy Muffin by the hand to her daughter’s room.

“Click-click! Click-click! Click-click! Click-click!” went the shiny high heels on the hallway’s limestone floor.

When Mrs. Daniels opened Mandy’s door and pulled Muffin in behind her, they found the pigtailed teen lying on her back on the bed, watching television. Her left ankle was resting on her raised right knee, her cheerleading skirt in disarray around her hips, her hand in her lap.  The love-struck Muffin caught a brief glimpse of its owner’s pretty red satin panties before Mandy sat up and pulled her skirt down.  The ogling of her scantily clad bottom was a privilege the haughty blond girl now chose to deny her worshipful plaything.

“Mandy darling,” said Mrs. Daniels, “I must leave now to drive a friend to the airport.  I’ll be back in an hour or so.  In the meantime, your shameless sissy needs to be punished for lying to me.  So, while I’m gone I’m charging you with the responsibility of making sure the brat has its wee-wee scrubbed until it’s nice and soft and limp again.  Will you be a good girl and do me that favor?”

Mandy leaped off her bed, jumping and screaming for joy.  “Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  Oh, Mommy, that’s one chore I’m sure I can handle!” 

“Good, we’ll have a nice dinner when I get back.  Have fun, you two!”

Soon the glamorous woman’s heels were clicking towards the garage.

Poor, frightened Muffin collapsed on the floor and began begging its haughty young owner for mercy. 

“Pwease, pwease, Missth Mandy,” said the abject fairy, as it planted kisses on the cheerleader’s red and white saddle oxfords.  “Pwease don’t bwush my widdle wee-wee.  I’ll do anythin’ you say.”

“Of course you will, silly fairy.  You’ll do what I say because, number one, you’re crazy in love with me, and, number two, you know how much trouble I’ll cause if you don’t obey.  Now get your disgusting mouth off my shoes, little freak, and stand up!”

“Yessth, Missth Mandy.”

“Take off your sissy apron and that stupid white diaper.”

“Sob.  I don’t wanna be punisthed.”

“Oh, poor Muffin’s little sissy pea-brain just can’t understand. You see, baby, the most fun I get out of my plaything is having it punished.  When I see your tears, I get a tingle.  When I hear you whimper, I feel an incredible flush.  And when I see you squirm, all I want to do is touch myself.  Sissy should be happy that it gives its owner so much pleasure!”

“Sob!”

“Take my hand, princess, we’re going to walk down the hall, and in just a minute the fun’s going to begin!” 

The smiling girl led her weeping, naked toy out of her room.  But instead of going towards her mother’s bedroom, Mandy took little Muffin into the kitchen.

“Now stay there, sissy, so that I can get something to tie up your little hands and feet,” she said rummaging through a drawer.  “All ri-i-ight, good ol’ duct tape.  Okay, put your arms behind your back, Muffy, so I can make sure that sweetie’s hands won’t get in my way.  We’re going to tape this wrist to that elbow, and then do it vice versa.  See?  Now your hands can’t go anywhere near your butt.  Go ahead, try it.  Perfect!  Now all that’s left is to tape sissy’s feet together.”

Mandy stood back to admire the bondage, then walked to the breakfast bar counter.

“Come over here, sissy.  Oops, I forgot.  Little Muffin can’t move its feet.  Poor thing.  But I know my sweet sissy can hop, ‘cause today everyone in the neighborhood got to see my diaper baby hopping down the sidewalk like a little bunny.  So hop, Muffy!  Hop, hop, hop over here!” ordered the cruel girl with sparkling green eyes.

The weeping, naked fairy was too frightened to do anything but obey the despotic pigtailed teen.  As Muffin bounced across the floor, its ill-mannered wee-wee slapped up and down from its smooth, hairless sissy balls to its soft white tummy.  By the time the time the poor creature had arrived next to Mandy, its aroused member was growing and hardening in the most shameful way.

This did not escape the smirking girl’s notice.  “Poor Muffin.  It seems you need to be constantly reminded of how to behave when in the company of a young lady.  Making your wee-wee stiff and pointing it at a nice girl like me is the worst kind of rudeness.  In a moment when I begin your correction, I want you to remember that you have only yourself to blame.”

With that, the blond cheerleader bent her knees slightly, placed her hands under Muffin’s arms and lifted her plaything onto the counter.

“Oooooowwwww! Oooooowwwww! Oooooowwwww!”

Muffin’s recently caned bottom was now resting on the countertop.  But since its feet now dangled far above the floor with no rail or stool to step on, all of sissy’s weight pressed against the tender red welts on its fanny.  And its arms, bound well above its bottom, were of no use in relieving the pressure.

“Oooooowwwww! Oooooowwwww!  Pwease, Missth Mandy, don’t make me sthit here.  Let me down!”

Mandy snickered at its plea. “Why should I, you nasty little fairy?  Your tears are what make me hot.  And I can’t get enough of that feeling.”

The girl then skipped across the floor to a CD player sitting next to the toaster.  She selected a disc, inserted it, and hit the play button.  In a moment the kitchen was filled with the sounds of electric guitars and drums.  A raucous male voice erupted out of the speakers:

“She was a fast machine
She kept her motor clean
She was the best damn woman I had ever seen
She had the sightless eyes
Telling me no lies
Knockin' me out with those American thighs”

Mandy mimed the words, which she knew by heart, and launched into a wild, frenetic dance.  She and her cheerleading co-captain, Karen, had choreographed the moves especially for this song.  The routine involved leaps, spins, high kicks and a constant swinging of the hips.  At football games it never failed to bring a standing ovation – as well as a few prudish complaints to the principal on Monday morning.

“Taking more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
'Cause the walls start shaking
The earth was quaking
My mind was aching
And we were makin it and you—”

Poor Muffin, its fanny throbbing with pain, could not fail to be mesmerized by the sight of Mandy’s athletic young body in motion.  The fearless girl exulted in her health, beauty and strength.  Her limbs flew effortlessly and her hips shook as if operating separately from the rest of her torso.  The blond teen grinned fiercely at Muffin, her emerald eyes blazing with madness.

Now Muffin was not sure which part hurt the most, its burning rear cheeks or its throbbing, rock-hard member.

Not altering the rhythm of her exertions, Mandy stepped over to the sink, opened the door under it, and removed something.  As the pretty girl danced closer to her bound and naked sissy, poor Muffin saw what she was holding.

“Shook me all night long
Yeah you shook me all night long.”

It was the hog bristle brush that Muffin used to scrub baseboards!

(To be continued.)

[Anonymous]

MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 13



The lead singer growled through the boom-box:



“Working double time

On the seduction line

She was one of a kind, she's just mine all mine.”



Mandy was now gyrating directly in front of her sissy.  Muffin could feel her breath and smell her sweat and perfume.  As she stared into the worshipful eyes of her lovesick pet, the pretty girl seized Muffin’s erect sex organ and continued her song and dance.



“Wanted no applause

Just another cause

Made a meal out of me and come back for more.”



Then the dancer raised the fearsome brush above her head of wagging blond pigtails.  Now, no longer miming, Mandy raised her own voice above the recording:



“Had to cool me down

To take another round

Now I'm back in the ring to take another swing”



Mandy’s hand came down, the hard bristles diving towards the sissy’s exposed and pinioned wee-wee!



“Shook me all night long

Ooooh you

Shook me all night long

Yeah, yeah, you

Shook me all night long”



The sissy screamed and Mandy bounced, shook and moaned in ecstasy



“Your really took me and you

Yeah you shook me, yeah you shook me

All night long.”



Again and again and again, the teen beauty, lost in her own pleasure, flailed her plaything until the song ended.



   *   *   *



Later, after the girl had turned off the boom-box, put away the bristle brush, and taken a sip of water, she went to examine her handiwork.



“Oh, poor Muffin!” she softly cooed in mock sympathy.  “Look at your poor little wee-wee.  Why, it’s so sore, it looks just like a piece of raw hamburger!  Didn’t I warn you, sweetie?  See what happens to little sissies that play with themselves?”



“Y-y-yessth, Missth Mandy,” said her red-faced plaything between heavy sobs.



“Now be a good sissy and thank your owner for making you behave.”



“Thank you, Missth Mandy.”



“All right, you stay here, baby, until I come back to untie you.  First I have to call Karen and tell her what I just accomplished!”



“Missth Mandy?”



“What, sissy?”



“When will you wet me put my faceth under your sthkirt and wick your pantiesth?”



“Don’t be a ridiculous little f-ggot!  I have no intention of allowing your disgusting little tongue anywhere on my body except my dirty feet.  When I get licked between my legs it will be by a real boy, like one of the hunky guys on the football team, or maybe one of those super-hot male models like the ones Mommy likes to sleep with.  It sure won’t be a pathetic diaper-wearing crybaby!”



“B-b-but you pwomisthed me I could!”



Poor Muffin emitted a new outburst of tears and kicked its little booties in protest.  But the pretty teen girl just laughed and skipped out of the room.



   *   *   *



After dinner, Muffin was on a step-stool washing pots and pans when it heard the silver bell in the dining room summon it.



“Yessth, Mistwess?” lisped the aproned fairy as it curtsied low before the imperious homeowner.



“Sissy Muffin, Mandy and I have been discussing your disgraceful behavior today.  It appears that we have been far too lax in our authority.  Instead of the devoted little sissy maid that Mandy had longed for, you’ve been nothing but a selfish, deceiving piglet, preoccupied with your own perverted appetites.  I’d hoped that the rattan lesson I delivered to your rump today would have set you on a course of good conduct.  And I certainly expected that Mandy’s brushing of your insolent p-nis would polish your manners somewhat.  Yet now I hear that you’ve been making the most depraved demands of my daughter.  Asking to poke your sissy face under her skirt?  The very idea!  Aren’t you ashamed?”



“Y-y-yessth, Misthwess,” answered the sissy, contritely bowing its head of blond ringlets

   

“Kiss Mandy’s shoe, sissy, and tell her you’re sorry.”



The pathetic pansy minced to where its cruel owner was sitting.  The pigtailed blond had changed out of her cheerleader’s uniform.  She now wore a tight white tank top, decorated with the image of a gooey slice of cherry pie and the words, “American Girl, Sweet as Cherry Pie.”  Her young bre-sts pushed against the picture and distorted its proportions.  A tight black jersey miniskirt, bare legs shiny with baby oil, and five-inch black heels completed the titillating picture.



As the effeminate slave knelt, the gloating teen girl uncrossed her legs and raised one foot for her toy to worship.  When poor Muffin bent to touch its lips to the glossy black toe of the shoe, the sissy saw that Mandy’s legs were slightly parted.  For just a second the frustrated creature caught a glimpse of hot pink panties clutching Miss Mandy’s always beckoning but always unattainable crotch.



“Oooooh! Oooooh! I’m sthooo sthowwy, M-m-missth Mandy, for making a sthiffie at you.  And I’m sthooo sthowwy I askthed to wick your pantiesth.”  Kiss. Kiss.



“I wish I could believe you’re truly sorry, little pervert,” sneered the snooty, mini-skirted girl.  “But I’ll bet that right now you’re getting a nasty erection just from pressing your sissy lips to my sexy shoes.  Aren’t you, pansy brat?”



“Unnnh, unnnh, no, Missth Mandy!”



“Mommy, may I take off Muffy’s sissy diaper to see if the little creep is lying again?”



Mrs. Daniels laughed, but shook her beautiful head.  “Now Mandy, I think we’ve done enough of that today.  Besides, we’d better get going before it gets too late in the evening.”



“Okay, Mommy.”  The pigtailed teen then jerked her foot away from Muffin’s begging mouth.  But instead of delivering a vicious kick as the sissy reasonably feared, Mandy bent forward and placed her hands on either side of her plaything’s petite face.



“You see, little freak, I’ve told Mommy all about what a well-behaved sissy Karen has.  How Shortcake never gets into trouble, how it’s always winning Sissy of the Day at school, and especially how well it minds its manners in the wee-wee department.  So Mommy called Karen’s mom and we’re going over there so they can discuss how to make you into a proper little sissy.”



“That’s right, Muffin,” said Mrs. Daniels, tossing back her mane of light brown curls. “I’m determined that my daughter’s life be filled with only the very best things.  And if her sissy is not operating correctly, then it simply must be fixed.  Like a shoe with a broken heel.  Or a dress with a missing button.  Karen’s mother has some exciting ideas on how you might be, um, corrected.  So we’re taking you along with us tonight, sweetie.  Now go change out of your frilly apron and maid’s cap!  Put on that adorable apricot baby dress and matching bonnet.  We’re going to take sissy for a little ride!”



(To be continued.)