Mistress Mommy by Carolyn Faulkner, Abby Collier Page A

the reason she was so upset about doing what she knew was expected of her was that she thought the result might be displeasing to Mommy, somehow. But, of course, it wasn’t. So that reason to be tense, to be concerned, was gone.
    But she still had her own issues, as an adult, dealing with being regressed to the point of truly letting go of her own adult control of her bodily functions. And she knew that Mommy wasn’t about to let her retain control. Mommy would always demand complete surrender. From the start. No quarter given, not for a newbie, not for anyone.
    And it was just what she needed.
    She kept up a quiet patter the entire time she was changing Alicia, telling her what she was doing – using Pooh wipes, because that was all she had on hand, and using them all over her, not just where she might need to, but in every nook and cranny, and realizing at that point that Alicia had no pacifier in, which she immediately rectified.
    Then she slathered Desinex all over her and slid a diaper beneath her and got out a set of brand new lightish pink summer footie pajamas and set them to one side. Then she reached onto the changing table and grabbed the tube of KY.
    Without having to lean forward at all, somehow Alicia found her legs pulled even further back, and her bottom even that much more exposed, lifted pretty much clear off the mattress. Mommy had a wooden ruler in her hand, which she cracked down on those rounded cheeks ten times, extremely hard, right in a row, with no let up, no hesitation whatsoever. 
    Alicia was beyond herself with the pain. She couldn’t form a coherent thought. She couldn’t deal with it.
    And then she felt herself lowered down, just enough, still on excruciating display, though, when a finger dipped itself into her well then pressed itself into her bottom, and another finger coated itself in her juices and brought them up to her engorged button and began circling it over and over, just around it, never over it. Around and around the outside, never quite allowing that satisfying, full blown taste. Teasing endlessly.
    “This is what you need, Alicia. I knew it as soon as I heard your voice on the phone. You need strict discipline. You need schedules and routines and expectations and consequences, and that’s exactly what you’re going to get here. Uncompromisingly and unfailingly. I will blister your bottom each and every time you make a mistake. I will make every decision for you, and you will obey me without question. You can relax and let me take care of you, in the most intimate of ways. In this way,” she flicked her finger once, very quickly, over the veriest tip of her clit, “and in every other way. You can surrender all of you to me. I’ll take care of you.”
    Another desperately short flick. Alicia was panting and writhing, as much as her bonds would allow, which wasn’t much.
    That finger in her bottom pressed in slowly, then out quickly, then in slowly, the rhythm quickening maddeningly. She heard a click, which she realized too late was the KY tube, and before she knew it she felt those crossed over fingers at the opening of her bottom again, but she didn’t have time to tense up before they were pressed into her and she felt her bottom flower opening more than she ever thought it could. It didn’t quite hurt, but it certainly felt... uncomfortable.
    Pleasantly uncomfortable, not that she was going to admit that to anyone.
    “Good girl,” Mommy whispered as she pulsed those fingers in and out slowly, inexorably. Alicia knew that as soon as they withdrew completely, that they were just going to be pressed back in, so few seconds of respite were a vicious lie. It was almost better if they’d just been kept in all the time.
    Almost.
    “You can come any time now, darling girl. No time limit. No requirements. Those will, I promise you, come later.”
    Time limits? Requirements? As pertained to orgasms? Those were things she preferred not to