Mistress Mommy (2 page)

The ones who weren’t were the ones who were usually interested in such things, whether or not they were willing to admit it to themselves. Some of them had to be convinced. Some of them knew it already, though, and just needed to be coaxed into it.

If she had to bet, she would put her money on the idea that Alicia knew what she wanted, but hadn’t quite come to terms with it.

Yet.

She decided not to push her, for the moment. “How old are you, Alicia?” She asked as she got up, saying, also, “Follow me, please.”

“Eighteen.”

“Good.”

“How old would you say you are mentally?”

Alicia shrugged, following as she was told to. “Probably twenty or so.”

Margo’s eyebrow rose at that answer. “So you’re really smart, or you think you’re really smart.”

She shrugged again. “I’ve been told all my life that I’m really smart.”

“How old would you say you are emotionally?”

The first answer that came to her mind was five or six – and, in her heart of hearts even younger than that - but she wasn’t about to give either of those answers to someone she’d barely met. “Early teens, maybe.”

When the women in front of her stopped short where they’d begun, in the big foyer, at the bottom of a beautiful staircase, Alicia bumped right into the back of her. She excused herself hastily. “You must learn to pay more attention to where you’re going, my dear. What was the first answer that came into your mind, Alicia? And don’t lie to me. I’ll know.”

That telltale blush was really all Margot needed to know, but it was important that Alicia learned to trust her enough to tell her that kind of information. “I – I – “

Within seconds, she found herself bent over Mistress’s lap. She hadn’t noticed that there were artfully placed straight backed chairs, all keeping with the Victorian décor, all with maroon velvet seats and high, ornately carved backs, strewn about the place so that there was always one within easy reach when needed. Her jeans were still around her waist, everything was still in its rightful place, but Alicia had never been spanked and she had no idea just how embarrassing and humiliating the mere position was.

Somehow, though, Mistress had known that.

She put her hand, which was a small, woman’s hand, but one with great power nonetheless, especially when you were on the receiving end of it, over Licia’s upturned bottom. Nothing more than that, just a well placed palm over a carefully presented female rear.

“I’d think carefully about my next words if I were you.”

But Alicia didn’t get a chance to respond before the front door opened, much to her mortification. She struggled to get up, but found the woman holding her over her lap was small and delicate, but surprisingly strong. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Good afternoon, Mistress.” Another young woman dropped to one knee in front of her Mistress, kissing the proffered hand devotedly.

“My darling Kennedy, did you get your summer school grades today?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Licia could hear the girl rummaging in her bag, she assumed for the report card.

A few seconds later, “Ahhh, I told you you could bring up your physics grade with the right motivation, didn’t I? Good girl! Come to me tonight at ten and we’ll discuss a reward.”

Alicia could feel from where she was lying in ignominy over the Mistress’s lap, how the girl was vibrating with pleasure at the older woman’s praise.

“Give us a kiss and go upstairs to your room. Don’t disturb Amy, dear; she’s got a punishment coming. Anyway, it’s time for your nap before dinner. I’m so very proud of you, my dear. I knew you could do it.”

After a scene of genuine praise and affection between the two, Kennedy did as she was told and practically ran upstairs. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes.” She patted Alicia’s bottom pensively. “You were about to tell me what your first thought was, before you had a chance to censor your answer about what your emotional age is. Come on, Alicia, out with it.”

It wasn’t going to be easy to say, regardless, but she was realizing that her position, since she was facing the beautiful Berber carpeting, was much easier than if she actually had to say this face to face. “About five or six,” she barely whispered.

The swat that landed on the rounded top of her bottom was a complete surprised, despite her position. Somehow she never really thought she’d end up with a spanking, which she realized was kind of stupid, but it hadn’t really crossed her mind; she was so caught up in how the environment and the entire setting was working on her mind and, frankly, her crotch, to even get that far ahead.

“If I can’t hear your response clearly, then you didn’t respond to me, Alicia. House rule. My rule. And if you didn’t respond to me, then you’re going to be corrected, because I expect to be obeyed. You can be shy and answer quietly. But you must answer me clearly.”

Alicia lifted her head and said, “Five or six.”

“Hmmmm. I was actually thinking much younger than that, but I won’t push.” Margot helped Alicia off her lap very carefully and attentively, and they ascended the stairs as she had originally intended, as if nothing unusual had happened. When they reached the top, Margot turned to Alicia and said, “You may have noticed that this is not your usual boarding house. I don’t treat the people who stay with me as renters. They’re my daughters, and in the rare instance, sons. They treat me as if I’m their mother. I am very parental with them, and most of them stay with me throughout their college careers, some even though graduate school. I make sure they eat right, study, get enough sleep, keep up their grades, take their meds, everything that a mother would do, including, and most importantly, discipline, of varying types and degrees.” 

They had arrived at Amy’s room, where the girl was, as expected, standing in the far corner of the room with her nose in the corner and her pants and adult little girlish panties around her ankles. Amy apparently knew better than to make a sound of protest at the fact that she was on display to the older woman as well as a strange young woman she knew nothing about. Alicia heard not so much as a whimper from the poor young girl in the corner.

Alicia’s entire lower body contracted at the sight. Not because she was excited to see another woman in that position, but rather because she was putting herself in Amy’s place, and it was easier for her to do so since she’d already been over Margot’s lap. She also took the time to look around Amy’s room and noticed that it wasn’t quite what one would expect from a college girl in the way of decoration.

It was a tower room, so it had a beautiful window seat, complete with pastel cushions and lacy pastel curtains. It was the sunniest room she’d seen yet in the house. But it also was the little girliest. Pooh and Tigger were everywhere – all components of the bed, which was a canopied twin, were coordinating Pooh. The furniture had all been decorated with the tubby bear, as well as the wallpaper boarder, mobiles, posters and framed pictures. There was a Pooh nightlight, Pooh television and Pooh telephone.

And Amy was twenty, Mistress had said.

She also noticed that, just above Amy’s bed hung several implements that made it almost impossible for her to resist the urge to squirm where she stood – there was a pink paddle that looked like a small cutting board. It looked like anything but a toy. There was a long, lethal leather tawse, as well as a wooden spoon with a big hole in the middle, and one other incongruous item hanging from a pink ribbon: an adult sized pacifier, with, of course, a Pooh clip.

Whatever was going on in this house, Alicia decided then and there that she wanted to be a part of it.

Except, of course, the spankings.

Margot watched Alicia’s reactions to Amy’s room carefully. She didn’t have a lot of girls – or boys – in the house right now. At one point she’d had entirely too many and she’d learned her lesson well. She’d been unable to pay attention to that many charges, and they had suffered from it, so she had kept the number of students she’d taken in down to the below five for the past several semesters and that had worked out very nicely. It kept the squabbling down to a minimum, and allowed her to concentrate her extreme attentions on those few she’d chosen.

Alicia was interested to see that every door to every room on the second floor, which was where everyone who was staying at the house was, was open. Apparently no one was allowed to close their door. They peaked in on Kennedy, who was in a room that seemed fit for a five or six year old, decorated liberally in a princess theme, with Disney Princesses everywhere. Mistress walked into the room quietly and tucked the sleeping girl in tightly, then dropped a light kiss on her forehead.

This fall semester would be Kennedy’s last in the house. She was to be married next spring, to a man of Margot’s choosing, and who agreed with a lot of her philosophies about how young ladies needed to be treated.

Margot always tried to bring new girls in while the more experienced girls were still there. It seemed to calm the new arrivals to have older ones there to teach them the ins and outs of the household, although she knew for a fact that the thing they stressed the most was simply to obey the Mistress of the house.

And they were very right.

There were several other bedrooms on that floor, some occupied, some not, the very last of which Margot informed Alicia would be hers, if she decided to stay there. That door was closed, but Margot opened it so that Alicia could look in. It was a complete nursery done in a pastel pink and purple carousel theme, with an actual carousel horse in one corner, but with one corner left conspicuously empty. The crib was large enough to accommodate an adult, but was completely outfitted as if to receive an infant – bumper, blanket, mobile – the entire nine yards. One thing that stood out, though, was that one corner of the crib housed a triangular hubby in the same fabric as everything else. That looked distinctly out of place. And, hanging off the changing table, upon which was stacked row upon row of diapers, was a row of what were clearly implements very much like those that had hung above Amy’s bed, only they were also color coordinated to this baby room.

“This is your room, Alicia, if you want it,” Margo whispered into Alicia’s ear from directly behind her.

Alicia turned around to look at the woman who would become her Mistress if she decided to take the room and swallowed hard. She wanted to do this. She wanted to do this bad. But she wasn’t at all sure it would be right to do it. She could see this becoming very... overwhelming. Very all encompassing. She could see wanting to do nothing but be involved here. Like the way adolescent boys got involved in video games to the exclusion of real life.

“I won’t let you drown, little one. I won’t let you sink. Not here, and not in school. I won’t let you procrastinate.”

Alicia opened her mouth to say yes, but nothing would come out.

Margot understood more than Alicia knew. She smiled and patted Alicia on the shoulder. “Well, I don’t need an answer instantly. Why don’t we continue our tour and we’ll talk a little more, and then you can go and think about it?”

The entire third floor was Margot’s room. It was sumptuously appointed, with a huge, four poster bed with a gorgeous lacy crocheted canopy, gorgeous antique looking furniture, a television so big it looked like it belonged in a movie theatre, and a closet that was the size of the bedroom Alicia grew up in.

As they left the room, Mistress said, “There’s a little more to the house, but I don’t want to scare you off. That’s enough for today.”

Alicia was intrigued, but agreed. They settled back down in the parlor. “Are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.”

Mistress smiled. “Your manners are reasonably good, Alicia. That’s very nice and unfortunately rare, lately.”

“Thank you.”

She was pinned by that dark gaze. “Did you tell someone where you were going when you came here?”

Alicia instantly wondered if she was trying to trip her up. “Yes, I always try to be very careful about my own personal security. A friend of mine knows where I am, has your number, knows where the ad was placed, has the directions and is expecting a call from me by a certain time.”

Margot was impressed. She was often dismayed by how many young women she encountered who were entirely willing to come meet someone they knew nothing about – just because she was a woman – without taking the proper precautions. “Good for you.” She took a sip of what had to be cold tea. “What do you think? You haven’t run away screaming, so I have to think that you’re somewhat intrigued... ?”

Alicia cleared her throat, and couldn’t meet the older woman’s eyes. “I – uh, yeah. I’m definitely intrigued.”

“Well, that’s good. I don’t offer to take in very many girls, you know. I have a lot more interviews than I do offers, about one offer to about twenty appointments.”

Alicia was suitably impressed.

“But I have a good feeling about you. Of course, you may have noticed that there’s a bit of a hierarchy about living here. You’ll be a new girl, and new girls are – quite literally – the babies. You’ll have to agree to be treated as such. You’ll have to agree to give me quite a bit of power over you, and I know that that goes against the grain of a lot of why you’re probably here, going to college. It’s usually a time when you’re trying to get away from parental restraint, and here you’d be stepping back into it, probably back into a much more restrictive form of it than you grew up in, by a very long shot, if today’s current parental trends are anything to go by.”

She was right on the money with that, Alicia thought to herself.

Margot leaned forward. “But if the idea of being most actively, most strictly parented makes you slippery; if knowing that you’re expected to be home at a particular time, that your grades and behavior in school will be closely monitored, that you’ll be put down for naps every day, and you’ll have a very strict, early bed time, that you’ll sleep in a crib and wear diapers and be spanked with alarming frequency... and much, much more makes you worry that you didn’t wear a pad today, then you have some serious thinking to do.

“I want your answer in three days. But before you give it to me, I want you to think very carefully. This is not a game to me, nor to any of the other women – or occasional men – in this home. It’s very real, and the spankings and punishments – and the pleasures –“ she said, drawing the word out deliberately, “ however infrequent - are also very real. The bruises are very real. You will be asked to sign something that states that you understand exactly what will happen and that you won’t hold anyone here legally responsible for those bruises. You will, for all intents and purposes, become a child. A baby, and then, if you’re well behaved enough, a child. You will lose the rights and privileges you’ve worked for all of your life. This is not something to enter into lightly.”