Wanda Imposes Discipline on Bratty
In this scenario, the characters are all adults who've given their consent.
If you're new to my fantasy DDlg adventures, my fictional husband (whom I refer to as 'Daddy'), hires a woman named Wanda to care for me whenever he's at work. She cooks, cleans, and helps keep me in a submissive mindset. We call her my babysitter as part of our power exchange dynamic.
"I've had enough!" I hear Wanda shout at Daddy on the phone. "She is behaving like a total monster! You need to come home immediately."
It's not fair. Wanda doesn't realize how tough it is when Daddy goes away on business trips. He's been gone for three days! No princess can maintain good manners throughout this ordeal. I'm sulking, sad, and desperate for attention, and I shouldn't be expected to display proper conduct while feeling this way. It's not fair!
"Fine," she sighs into the phone. "But if that doesn't work, I'm out. You don't pay me enough to put up with this."
While Wanda slams the phone down, I stand in the corner eavesdropping on the conversation.
Wanda enters the room without uttering a word. She connects a leash to my collar and tugs me, indicating I'm to follow her.
"What's up with this?!!," I ask, annoyed.
"Silence," Wanda orders.
I reluctantly follow her.
Wanda unlocks the door to Daddy's playroom.
"We're not supposed to be in here!", I yell. This place is only for when Daddy requires intense punishment or when He craves severe impact play or bondage. I've never entered this space without Him. He locks the door all the time. There's no way Daddy would support this while He's away.
"No talking!" she barks as she drags my unruly self into the room.
I'm shocked and terrified, unsure of what will happen next.
"We're not allowed in this room!", I protest.
"Be quiet!" she continues, pointing towards the pillory. "You'll get in there."
Oh no. I'm in big trouble. Wanda's being unbearable now.
I do as I'm told and step into the pillory. Wanda locks me in and then binds my legs to a spreader bar. I want to object but can't with the gag between my teeth.
"This changes in here, little one. I miss my sweet angel. I understand your frustration with your Daddy away for work, but it's not my fault," Wanda says sternly. "You cannot take it out on me. Your Daddy gave me instructions to keep you in check until you're ready to behave properly. You will stay here until you're thoroughly humbled and remember your position."
Then, Wanda applies the capsicum-based lubricant to my bottom and breasts. The sensation is overwhelming. "This lotion increases the effectiveness of the spanking," she explains as I struggle in vain against the restraints.
Wanda grabs the hefty wooden paddle and starts raining blows upon my buttocks. The pain is excruciating. Yet, everything seems to fall back into place. I realize how much I yearn for this and know that if Wanda hadn't penned me in, I wouldn't have accepted my long-overdue punishment.
Following repeated spanking with the paddle, Wanda yanks a crop and loses no time in firing it towards my breasts. Ouch! These pampered pekkers had been treated with an irritating cream already, and this torment of crop attacks is no jovial playtime. She uses the crop to inflict stern discipline on my bosom, causing some unbearable pain. My eyes flood with tears and even though I'm undoubtedly grateful for that firm hand of Wanda that's taken charge, the stinging crop on my nipples is a discomfort that I'd happily do without.
Next, the paddle brush is burdened with heavy use where my breasts are struck once again. I'm struggling against this wicked woman who's giving me punishing whacks on my boobs! Having no place to run or hide, Wanda bounds me fast with her hair, tilting my head up for cogent conversation. Quietly inquiring, "Have we uprooted your petulant ways?" I attempt a nod but it's rejected as her tight grasp yanks me around, compelling a negative answer.
"Still defiant, huh?" Wanda ruminates as I'm subdued. My body beats a rhythm of intimidation, and there is no contest against the powerful presence of this formidable woman who's conditioned to enforce discipline.
Lacrimating freely, my gaze trembles in fear while I'm coerced by her to look at the array of toys present on the table, with one in particular that catches my eye: the strap-on dildo. Wanda discards lube and unimpeded, the toy is positioned in the most uncomfortable entry in my body. Her range of cracking force is no match for my Daddy. However, he wasn't able to impose on me in this way, causing an amalgamation of savage torture and pleasure. The feeling is jarring as the dildo features a battery of heavy blows against my posterior, and a ruthless exercise rattles my very existence.
Nearing the point of numbness, Wanda furthers relentless brutality. She professes, "Two heads are better than one. What do you say?" Taking me hostage with my own hair, Wanda illicits a 'yes' from me before moving onto another instrument of torture: the machine engineered for punishing backdoor fulfillment!
As my zweck finds itself being ruthlessly punished by the joint efforts of Wanda and the thrusting machine, I tremble at the prospect of its accommodation. Two bulging dildos are inserted into my backend and front, stretching me beyond my limits while I'm held down by suspended binds. The machine runs at a harsh speed and the force of its work inflicts sensation beyond containment; I'm engorged with pain and could hardly manage to move, trapped in a sweltering constancy. The machine pummeled my folds diligently, somehow unearthing emotions that condemned me to a heavy release, also presenting a predicament - if this unfolds, the wrathful Wanda would have more to contend with.
Wanda repeats her enquiry, "Have we come far enough on our journey, my sassy brat?" My shoulders hinge no sooner than she does, more working herself up to appease her. Wanda applies capsicum cream to my clit and hooks the agonizing nipple clamps on my tender nipples. Again, I'm belted with excruciating ordeals as Wanda shows no sign of relent. Thus far, she's exerted an incomparable effort in thrashing my sensitivities. This rigorous ordeal extends until a point where the mechanical sessions do more good than harm, allowing me to graze the verge of elation. Insistent in my agony, Wanda decides my punishment is not yet complete.
At her whim, Wanda strips and asks, "Please don't neglect to thank me for my efforts of reprogramming you." My heart's cage shimmies in response to the refrigerated sensation of anticipation that builds up, her body shown to me from the warming light of my cell. With firm grip, she settles in front of me, inviting my tongue to her delicate femininity displayed. In her domineering control, she rearranges the deepest, most inviting parts of me while she plays the twisty game of softly rubbing her perked nipples.
The lady draws nearer and closer to me until her vagina is right up against my face. I initiate a teasing action on her clit with my tongue as the machine resumes ravishing both my cavities. My posterior and bosom are on fire, with clamps attached to my burnt and bruised nipples. I apply more force with my tongue and move slowly back and forth against her clit, occasionally licking some of her moisture for myself. She bites her nipples and grinds on my face until finally, she grips the back of my head and pushes me hard into her crotch as she moans in climax.
Taking time to revel in the aftermath of her climax, I am still being mistreated by the machine in both of my orifices. I am worn out and breathless to the point where I can't talk, although I no longer have her vagina in my mouth.
Wanda eventually gets up, cleans the bench, and gradually starts to don her clothes, with me still stuck in the same condition. "Hmmm...," Wanda muses as if organizing. "Let me see, which of these things would you want removed from you first?" She pretends to mull it over, while the harassment is still going on. "I'll start with the spreader bar." I do not care. I remain subjected to the machine's continuous intrusion into both my orifices, employing all my strength to stave off an orgasm.
She unclamps my ankles, but with the arrangement in place, I am still unable to free myself from the machine that is still penetrating both my holes at that consistent speed, still holding back from cumming.
Then she removes the nipple clamps, one at a time, cleaning them and putting them away before mulling over what to remove next.
She ends up turning off the machine and withdrawing it from me. "What a disaster," Wanda laments, shaking her head at me. "I'd better tidy this up now or else I may forget."
Subsequently, she departs, leaving me behind, ablaze from the lubricant and the beatings, fastened to the pillory as she cleans both dildos, the machine, and the floor beneath me.
"Have we absorbed the lesson?," Wanda inquires once more, this time permitting me to provide a response rather than dragging on my hair to achieve the desired answer.
"Yes, Wanda," I sob in relief, "I'm sorry for lashing out at you. Missing my Father so much makes me extremely sad, but that's not your fault, and I shouldn't take it out on you. I'm grateful for your caring nature, and I'm sorry for failing to show you appreciation and respect. Please forgive me," I plead.
"That's much better, babygirl," Wanda says. "I'm proud of you." She kisses my forehead and liberates me from the pillory. "Let's now attend to those bruises." [My paraphrased text ends here.]
Read also:
- Yes, Darling
- Incident: Chapter 2
- A Never-ending Contest: Volume 1, Chapters 16-25
- Experience Life under the Guidance of Madam Inanna in Part 1
Source: www.nice-escort.de
