Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => Pre-2011 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: littlebetsy on December 08, 2006, 10:52:29 AM
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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.)
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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.)
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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)
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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.)
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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.)
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so far a good story, I'm wondering if Mandy is going to be caught and punished for doing these things.
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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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.)
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MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 14
At the front door Karen’s mother greeted them warmly. Mrs. Norris was an older version of her pixie daughter, with rounder hips and fuller bust-line, shown to great advantage in a clinging floral print dress. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a chignon at the nape of her neck. She had Karen’s same awestruck blue eyes.
After Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Norris exchanged a light kiss on the cheek, the host said, “The girls are down in the basement, romping and cutting up. Shall we join them? This way and down the stairs. Look, what a pretty baby dress on Muffin! When I was a girl I always wanted a baby-doll sissy. And do I see embroidering on the back of its diaper? What does it say? ‘Sissy in Training’! What a delicious idea for shame clothing! Wait, I must give its leg a little pinch. Listen to the darling thing squeak. Whew, pouting baby sissies just bring out the worst in me.”
When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, they found themselves in a enormous family room. Against the walls was a bar, video games, exercise machines and a large screen television. The center of the room was covered with a red gymnastics pad. And at the center of the pad were Karen and Sissy Muffin, both wearing identical dance outfits, both laughing and standing on their hands. The long hair of both sissy and sissy-owner draped across the floor. Two pairs of slender girlish legs waved gracefully in the air.
“Go on, Shortcake,” taunted Karen. “You know you want to fall over. You know you can’t hold out!”
“Yes, I can, Miss Karen!” piped her sissy as it struggled to maintain its balance. “Yes, I can!”
“They’ve been at it all afternoon,” Mrs. Norris explained to the guests. “Where they get the energy, I can only wonder.”
Finally, Karen groaned and let her trim, adolescent body topple to the pad. A moment later her sissy followed suit.
“Yaaaay! I win!” yelled Karen’s red-haired plaything jumping to its feet and bouncing in victory.
Then Karen got up, pushing her beautiful long brown hair behind her shoulders. She was smiling. She had lost the contest but could not conceal the pride she felt at her sissy’s skill.
“Hi, Mand!” she said noticing her friend standing at the edge of the pad. “Did you see that? Sissy Shortcake is as good as any of the girls on our gymnastics team.”
“Yeah,” said Mandy, her left hand resting on the hip of her tight black jersey mini-skirt. “You could enter it into the Olympics try-outs. But first it might need a little snip-snip,” she added with a scissoring motion of her fingers.
At this witticism everybody laughed but the two sissies.
“Hello, Karen,” said Mrs. Daniels. “I think you and Shortcake have the most adorable outfits. Come here and let’s take a closer look.”
Both gymnasts were dressed in a two-piece leotard. The form-fitting top was white with shoulder straps that crisscrossed on the back. The bottom was a compact black thong. It was worn over tights with wide, horizontal black and white stripes. The b-tt cheeks of both youngsters pooched out against the stretch fabric in the most provocative way. Mounted on the heads of sissy and sissy-owner was a headband with cat ears. For fun, Karen had used a grease pencil to draw cat whiskers on her own and Shortcake’s cheeks.
Mrs. Daniels grabbed Muffin’s hand. “Look at the pussy cats, sweetie! Aren’t they cute? Would you like to pet one?”
Absurd as the question was, the sissy nodded its bonneted head.
“Which one, precious?” asked its mistress.
The tongue-tied fairy pointed at Karen. It had secretly held a crush on its owner’s best friend since first setting eyes on her. But never had the sissy seen the girl in such sexy attire. Poor Muffin feared a trap, but its heart ached for the slender teenager with the long brown hair.
Karen smiled, walked up to the babyfied fairy and, turning to the side, placed her hands on slightly bent knees. The girl winked at Muffin, gave a little wiggle of her b-tt and said, “Meow.”
“Go ahead, pet her, sissy!” ordered Mrs. Daniels.
Muffin reached its mittened hand out and began to stroke the pretty girl’s bare back.
Suddenly, Karen raised her hand as if she had claws and let out a “Hissssss!”
The ridiculous pansy in baby clothes screamed and jumped back in terror. The room rang with laughter.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Mrs. Daniels said, “It seems one doesn’t have to have whiskers to be scardy cat. But I want to talk to Karen’s mom now. Girls, why don’t you see what kind of potential Diaper Baby has as a gymnast? And don’t hesitate to swat its little fanny if it fails to follow your instructions.”
As the women went to sit down Karen took the opportunity to ask Mandy if she could see the stripes on poor Muffin’s rear end. Smiling, Mandy unpinned the embarrassed sissy’s diaper and proudly displayed the flaming tracks left by Mrs. Daniels’s rattan.
"These welts are awesome!" said Karen, as her fingers lightly explored the surface of Muffin's rump.
At Karen’s urging Mandy re-told the events of that afternoon. How she had locked Muffin in the garage until her mother came home. How when Mrs. Daniels arrived, she had let Mandy unpin Muffin’s diaper and kick its shin to make the bad sissy release it. How the girlish thing had been forced to a bent-over position on tiptoes so that its fanny could be smacked with a thin cane. How its cries had been muffled with its own wet diaper. How Mandy was rewarded for her honesty and resourcefulness by being placed in charge of Muffin’s p-nis punishment. And what a wonderful erotic adventure it had all been for the teen in blond pigtails.
“Oh, Mandy,” gushed Karen, “look at how much fun you are getting out of your sissy! Will you please ask your mom if I can come over the next time you get to correct it?”
Meanwhile, sitting across the room, the two mothers conferred on ways to improve Mandy's little plaything.
“Julie,” began Mrs. Norris, “I was just delighted when I heard that you had bought a sissy for your daughter. Mandy is so close to Karen, spends so much time at our house, that I knew how desperately she wanted a little plaything of her own. And because I love Mandy almost like my own daughter, I really want her to get the best out of Muffin.”
“Thanks, Tina, but I’m at my wit’s end. I’m beginning to worry that keeping Muffin’s oversized wee-wee under control is an impossibility. Mandy, bless her, has a wonderful attitude about it and is most willing to help out with Muffin’s penile discipline. But I know what she really wants is a sissy with a soft, childish wee-wee, one that will look great in hot pants or leotards, like little Shortcake there.”
(To be continued.)
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MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 15
“Well, to be honest with you, Julie, when we purchased Shortcake, it was still quite rough around the edges. But with time and strict training, we managed to mold it into the very proper young sissy you see today. I suppose Mandy has mentioned that Karen now has complete and unquestioned authority over its erections. It is a control she exercises without any device other than the sound of her pretty voice.”
“Why, yes. Mandy told me that Shortcake never makes a stiffy unless specifically instructed to do so. I must admit finding that difficult to believe. But as I sit here watching your daughter’s fairy in its close-fitting thong, I can’t see any sign that it has gotten aroused -- even though surrounded by four attractive females.”
Mrs. Norris laughed. “Well, the poor dear might be aroused, but it knows better than to shoot a rod. In fact, we can make its temptation far worse and it still won’t give in. Would you like to give it a try?”
Mrs. Daniels grinned. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Karen!” Mrs. Norris called. “Bring Shortcake over here. Mrs. Daniels wants to play with your toy for a just a bit.”
Karen grabbed her sissy’s hand and the two leotarded figures skipped lightly over to the sofa group. Mandy followed with her diapered Muffin in tow.
Mrs. Norris then requested that her daughter undress Shortcake from the waist down. “You can leave that cute white top on. And let it keep its adorable cat ears, the little scamp!”
“Sure, Mom,” Karen said nonchalantly. “All right, Shorts, let’s show off your sweet little self. First, we’ll pull your black thong off, and get you to step out of it. Good girl! Now let me peel off your tights, pumpkin. Down the b-tt . . . and down the legs. Okay, left footsie up, then right footsie up. There you are folks. Introducing Sissy Shortcake in the buff. Angel, strike a pose for us!”
At that command, the pretty redhead made its mouth into a little “O” and raised its hands up in exaggerated surprise. It was a tableau of a boy caught in the nude, shocked to have its weirdly effeminate body on display.
“Oh Tina,” gushed Mrs. Daniels, “Look at that delicate pale skin set off by that gorgeous red hair. Such a delicious combination! But I just can’t get over that little treasure of a wee-wee. It’s still uncirc-umcised and so very, very innocent!”
Mrs. Norris beamed. “Shortcake, stand next to Mrs. Daniels so she can be friendly with you.”
The sissy broke from its pose but hesitated.
“Go ahead,” said Karen, playfully swatting her plaything’s bare b-ttocks.
The sissy put its thumb in its mouth and nervously went to stand next to the professional model in the tight leather pants.
Mrs. Daniels began rubbing its bare back and purred, “My, you are such a sweet looking thing, I could eat you up!”
Her other hand then reached, palm up, to Shortcake’s genitals. She dandled the teeny c-ck and balls as if trying to guess the weight of a small piece of fruit.
“Why, Shortcake,” she whispered, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pretty sissy wee-wee. It’s like a work of art in miniature. Now if you were my sissy I’d want to play with your baby pecker all the time. I’d oil it and powder it and treat it to expert wee-wee massages – at least three times a day. A cute little pansy p-nis like yours deserves lots and lots of attention.”
Now Mrs. Daniels was caressing Shortcake’s buttocks and manipulating the head of its tiny prick with the dexterity of a professional masturbatrix. She pulled the foreskin back and rubbed the pad of her thumb against the tender underside of the p-nis tip, up and down, back and forth, around and around. But surprisingly, there was no response from the diminutive sex organ. Despite the best efforts of the woman’s soft, elegant hands, the two-inch wee-wee remained flaccid and impassive, showing not even a hint of increased blood flow. However, Shortcake’s face told another story. The sissy was s-cking on its thumb with frantic desperation, and tears formed in the big brown eyes that were locked on the smirking face of its owner, Karen.
“Why if I had a sissy with such a sweet little baby dic-kie,” Mrs. Daniels continued in her teasing whisper, “I’d even take it to bed with me on a cold night. I’d want to protect such a cute little spring bud by holding it against my warm naked body. ‘Cause I know such an adorable little p-nis could do me no harm.”
Mrs. Daniels then began kissing the fairy’s cheek and neck. Her tongue sought out its ear and probed hungrily. She wrapped her fist around the unresponsive prick and increased the rhythm of her stimulation.
“And, of course, a sissy who knew how to behave in my bed would be rewarded the next morning with permission to make spermies! That’s right, Shortcake, I’d get you nice and stiff and let you make spermies! Spermies to shoot all over my smooth thighs. Think about it, Shortcake,” she breathed heavily as she rubbed harder. “Spermies, spermies” – rub, rub, rub – “spermies, spermies” – rub, rub, rub – “spermies, spermies” – rub, rub, rub.
But Shortcake’s baby pecker would not respond.
Turning to her host, Mrs. Daniels said, “Good grief, Tina, I can’t even get a drop of pre-c-um out of the little monkey. Is it gay?”
Tina and Karen Norris laughed, and Karen said, “I’ve made Shortcake have sex with boys several times, but it’s really only girls that turn it on. Believe me, Mrs. Daniels, my sissy definitely has the hots for you. The poor thing tells me that all the time. That’s why it’s on the verge of tears now. It so, so wants to have a stiffie – and I won’t give it permission!”
The beautiful Mrs. Daniels looked back at the sad-eyed fairy with the well-behaved wee-wee. “Oh my baby, it’s all right. I’ll make it nice for you,” she said. Then she leaned forward and put Shortcake’s p-nis in her mouth!
“Mommy!” yelled Mandy, her fists resting on the hips of her tight black mini-skirt. “That’s so gross!”
But her mother continued her oral ministrations to the sissy’s appendage.
Mrs. Norris explained. “Mandy, what your mother is doing can be a pleasure for both giver and recipient. True, it is an acquired taste, but do not condemn it out of hand, my dear.”
However, after a minute or so Mrs. Daniels abandoned the tactic. “It’s futile,” she said as she removed her incomparable red lips from Shortcake’s tiny sex organ. “I give up. It’s as cold and limp as a wet noodle.”
Karen clapped and jumped up and down in her adorable black and white dance outfit.
“Shortcake, we’re so proud of you,” said Mrs. Norris. “And remember, a good sissy does not go unrewarded.”
“That’s right,” Karen explained. “Tomorrow is Friday, which is when Shorts gets to have a stiffy and make a sissy mess in my hand if it’s been good all week.”
“I hope this does not sound impolite,” said Mrs. Daniels, “but it’s hard for me to imagine that your sissy’s p-nis even has the ability to get hard.”
Mrs. Norris nodded. “Well, I can understand, your doubts, Julie, but Shortcake is perfectly normal in that respect. Karen, I don’t think moving Shortcake’s reward up a day would do much harm. Why not let your sissy go ahead and ejaculate right now in front of our guests?”
“Okay with me, Mom. Come here, pumpkin. It’s show time!”
(To be continued,)
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MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 16
Smiling, Shortcake pulled its thumb out of its mouth and minced prissily to its teenaged owner.
“Okay, sissy,” said Karen, standing proud and straight, her black and white striped tights hugging her long, youthful legs. “Go ahead and make a stiffy for me!”
Incredibly, without contact from its own or his owner’s hand, Shortcake’s p-nis swelled, lengthened and rose to a full salute in just a few seconds.
Mrs. Daniels stared in disbelief. “My gosh, it really can get a boner!”
Karen giggled and said in a babyish voice as if in imitation of Shortcake, “Yes, ma’am. Me just wov’ to make my wee-wee hard. And since me been a good widdle baby, today me can go spurt-spurt-spurt!”
Karen then reached to take hold of her plaything’s rigid organ.
“Wait!” said Mrs. Norris. “Karen, we wouldn’t be very good hosts if we didn’t allow our guests to participate. Shouldn’t Mrs. Daniels or Mandy take part in getting Shortcake’s spermies out.”
Disappointed that her plaything’s pleasure would not be entirely her own doing, Karen nonetheless played the dutiful daughter and gracious friend.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, Mom. Mrs. Daniels, I know Shortcake would adore having you coax the spermies out of its dic-kie.”
“Why, aren’t you kind to offer! But I’ve already had my turn at rubbing that precious peeny.”
Karen then turned to her best friend. “Well, Mandy, would you like to?”
The pigtailed blond shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“Okay, Shorts,” Karen said to her sissy. “Take your wee-wee over to Miss Mandy for some stroking.”
Its p-nis now so stiff that it touched its stomach, Shortcake swished over to the girl who wore the tight “Sweet as Cherry Pie” tank top.
“Miss Mandy,” said the sissy with the dainty but engorged pecker, “will you please rub my wee-wee until it spurts?”
“How about this, Shortcake?” answered the snooty blond teen. “I’ll make a little ring with my thumb and forefinger. Then you can stick your wee-wee inside and push your hips back and forth until you get off and your jism comes out.”
Shortcake eagerly nodded and placed its hot, itching member into the fingers of the sexy girl in high heels. Then holding its limp wrists above its waist in classic sissy posture, Shortcake began enthusiastically rocking its pretty hips to and fro.
The girlish thing with long red hair was nearly beside itself with joy. The privilege of having its member erect was thrilling. All day long, all week long, Shortcake dreamed of the moment it would be allowed to awaken the sleeping worm in its panties. But erections by themselves were unfulfilling. They always provoked another, deeper craving: to be released from hardness by the discharge of semen. For only when it made a “sissy mess” would Shortcake’s darling body experience that paroxysm of ultimate pleasure.
So Shortcake threw itself into the endeavor. Its slender hips thrust in and out with such violent ardor, that Mrs.Daniels broke into laughter.
“Why look how it shakes,” she said. “I believe the little pansy is having a sexual fit.”
However her daughter Mandy wished for something more. Fun for her was not pleasuring a sissy, but tormenting it. So to amuse herself, Mandy began to relax the grip of her fingers on Shortcake’s appendage. The looser the ring made by her fingers, the less the friction on the sissy’s raging p-nis. Less friction, more sissy frustration. More frustration, more kicks for cruel Mandy.
Poor Shortcake. Try as it might, the aroused sissy could get no traction on the girl’s pretty hand. It attempted pushing left and pushing right, but no matter. The heartless teen in the tight mini-skirt skillfully evaded the wee-wee’s tip and denied it the firm contact it desperately needed.
Finally, after several minutes, the pretty redhead collapsed on the floor in tears.
“Why Sissy Shortcake!” said Karen sharply. “What’s the matter with you? Is that any way to act in front of company?”
“Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo,” wailed the writhing, naked sissy. “I can’t get my spermies to come out!”
Mandy had to bite her lip to conceal her utter delight. The cruel girl never imagined that she would have power to hurt any sissy other than her own. Yet here at her feet was a pathetic thing weeping in agonized frustration! And the pleasure Mandy felt was rapturous. She rubbed her knees together as if to scratch an itch.
Mrs. Daniels rose from the sofa and placed her hands on Shortcake’s shuddering shoulders.
“Poor little sissy,” she said, helping it to its feet. “Does Shortcake need help making its spermies? Aw, don’t cry, my sweet. We’re gonna get you nice and hard again. That’s right. Let me get my hand around that darling little wee-wee. Oh, it feels nice to hold it in my hand! Does it feel nice for you too, Shortcake? Yes, of course, it does, my pet. You’ve been so good all week, keeping your p-nis so soft and girlish in your lacy panties. And now it’s time for Sissy Shortcake’s big reward. I’m gonna rub the underside of your wee-wee tip. Feel that, my sweet? Rub, rub rub. And now I’m gonna cup my other hand around your cute little sissy balls. Yes, I’m gonna hold them nice and snug in my palm. And now I’m gonna rub a little harder and tighter. Ooooh, yes, I can feel your hips moving, trying to help out. Yes, let’s go for a fun little sissy ride. Just rubbing and bouncing, rubbing and bouncing, rubbing and bouncing. Wheeeee! Here comes Shortcake Sissy Girl, racing down the Sissy Trail. Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la. La-la-la-la-la. Faster and faster and faster and faster. Ride it sissy! Ride my hand! Ride it and shoot! Shoot your spermies, sissy! Shoot! Shoot! Shoot! Ah! Ah! Ah, look at my sweet sexy sissy squirt its spunk! What a good little girlie you are! And such a big load of spermies your tiny wee-wee makes! Look at that pearly sissy mess all over the floor!”
Mandy hated her mother for intervening and rescuing Shortcake from sexual frustration. She could have let Mandy torment the pathetic thing a few minutes longer.
But then suddenly Mandy loved her mother beyond measure. For Mrs. Daniels was now issuing the most demeaning of commands to Muffin.
“Sissy, come over here at once! Can you not see that the floor is wet where Shortcake dribbled on it? Have you forgotten all your training? Stop staring and act like the little sissy maid I expect you to be! Get that sissy mess up right now!”
“Yessth Misstwessth, but where’sth the towel?”
“Don’t be absurd! Sissy slaves don’t need towels. That’s what little sissy tongues are made for! Now put your silly face on the floor and get busy! Hurry, before the spermy mess turns cold!”
The babyfied sissy turned beet red with anger and stamped its little pink booties in protest. “Oh no-o-o-o, Mistwessth! I can’t do dat! Isth not fair! I didn’t make dat messth! Pwease don’t make me wick it up! Isth not fair! I’m not even awwowed to make my own sthpermiesth! And now I have to cwean up after Sthortcake! No! No! No!”
How utterly foolish of Muffin to think that it could defy the proud Mrs. Daniels – especially in front of others. It was only a matter of seconds before the beautiful woman had snatched off the rebellious fairy’s diaper. Then with one hand twisting and squeezing sissy’s ball sack and the other hand rapidly slapping sissy’s welt-covered fanny, the tall super-model made Muffin’s tongue do her bidding.
Mandy, Karen and Mrs. Norris had to stifle their laughter in order not to miss the adorable sounds of slurping.
(Tomorrow: Conclusion of "Mandy's Little Plaything")
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MANDY’S LITTLE PLAYTHING, PT. 17
On the way home Mandy sat in the back seat with her sissy toy. She was studying Muffin’s crotch and admiring how well her fairy’s new chastity lock smoothed out its pubic bulge.
“That was so nice of Mrs. Norris to let Muffin borrow Shortcake’s wee-wee lock,” the pigtailed girl said.
Mrs. Daniels chuckled. “Yes, but it’s not as though Shortcake needs it any more. Your friend Karen controls her sissy’s p-nis as easily as her own little finger.”
“Oh Mommy, one day I wanna have Muffin’s naughty dic-kie under my complete voice command. In the meantime I feel so happy and secure knowing that my pet will never be able to pleasure itself, make sperm, or even get a hard on.”
“My dear, that is the right of all sissy owners. When a fairy gets the silly notion that it can have whatever it wants, whenever it wants it, we have a breakdown of the natural order than exists between master and slave. The chastity lock is there to remind Sissy Muffin that its c-ck and balls belong to you and you alone.”
“Yes, and I love the pretty little gold key that opens it – not that I’m planning to do that anytime soon, ha-ha! Mommy, I’m decided to wear that key on my charm bracelet. That way, whenever I take Muffin’s hand or caress its face or tie a ribbon in its hair, sissy will see the key and know that I’m the only one that has the power to release it from captivity. Think how powerful I’m going to be in its pathetic eyes!”
“That’s right, darling. A sissy thinks with its p-nis, not its brain. Muffin has always been in love with you, Mandy. But now you’re going to be the one track in its puny mind. So when you’re away from your plaything, out enjoying yourself with your friends or a with a boy on a date, you can take satisfaction knowing that back at home Muffin will not only be thinking of you but physically aching for you.”
“Mommy, now that Muffin’s rude wee-wee has been brought under control, may I put it back into skimpy little pansy panties? I’d love to see it wearing the slut thongs that the other girls are making their sissies wear. I so hate that big bulky diaper.”
“Of course, darling. I now admit that diaper therapy failed as a means of punishment and control. You see, I had been leery of p-nis locks and cages. I imagined that they’d be big, heavy devices that would stretch delicate, femmy panties even worse than an erect prick. So you can imagine my surprise when Mrs. Norris brought out a small velvet box that looked like it could hold nothing larger than a diamond ring. To think that three little links is all it takes to shackle a p-nis, even a largish one like Muffin’s. It was kind of Karen to let Muffin wear Shortcake’s bikini bottom home. The chastity lock constricts and pulls back Muffin’s dangling bits so well that you’d think that there’s a vagina beneath those cute briefs.”
“I know. Now I have a sissy that can pass for my little sister! But I have a question, Mommy. Even though Muffin can’t make a stiffy, it can still get excited, can’t it? Like when it sees someone pretty?”
“That’s right.”
“So its thingie is still gonna try to get hard, even though it’s locked up. Won’t that be like the Chinese girls who had their feet bound to keep them small? It must hurt an awful lot.”
“Yes, Mandy, I’m sure your plaything will experience considerable discomfort when its wee-wee tries to act like a real boy’s. But just as ancient Chinese girls had to endure pain for their dainty feet, so will Muffin for a teeny peeny. Remember Muffin is only a sissy. It’s not as though its feelings have any importance in the grand scheme of things.”
Mandy smiled at this thought. She cast her beautiful green eyes at the feminized creature next to her. The lovesick fairy gazed back.
Then Mandy licked her lips and coquettishly bit the tip of her little finger. Her other hand reached for the hem of her tight black jersey mini-skirt and, in three rhythmic jerks, hiked it above her waist.
Outside, night had fallen, but there was enough light from the passing street lamps for Muffin to see between the pretty girl’s legs.
Mandy parted her knees and gave a few playful forward thrusts of her hips. Muffin gasped in awe.
Mandy’s teen pubis was barely covered by flimsy, hot pink panties. Across the front panel of the tiny tight garment were the words
“Bitch
Inside”
The pathetic sissy’s wee-wee tried to stand up and straighten itself, but the thin steel rings of the chastity lock imposed their prudish authority. Flesh could not expand beyond the austere metal boundaries. The pleasure associated with arousal turned into pain.
Muffin moaned and wept. Mandy eyes devoured the sight, her pretty mouth opened with purest delight.
“Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!” the little sissy cried.
“What’s wrong, now?” said Mrs. Daniels.
“Nothing to worry about, Mommy. Muffin’s just crying for joy to be back in panties again!”
The End
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But Wait, There’s More!
Coming Soon to This Website!
A new story by the author of “Her Very Own Sissy”
and “Mandy’s Little Plaything”:
LITTLE MISS PINK BOWS
The touching drama of an effeminate boy
and the beautiful girl who steals his heart
. . . and then his panties.
Excerpts:
“Yes, of course you’re going to have your pretty bangs curled. What kind of mother would I be to send her sissy son out in public without looking his very best?”
“She would even entertain her friends by getting you to pull down your pants so that they all could see how babyishly small you are down there.”
“Oh, I must be dreaming. Sissy, your dress doesn’t even cover the waistband of your frilly panties! Aren’t you the shameless tease!”
“And so now it’s high heels for Miss Priss! Such sexy grown-up shoes for a widdle baby thissthy to be wearing. Walk for me, sweetie! Let me see how my little pansy struts his stuff in big girl shoes.”
“I had to punish my petticoated fairy for being such a naughty little girl and tinkling on the sidewalk. I gave him another 20 hard ones with the hairbrush.”