Teaching Tara (An Age Play Story) (7 page)

It took a long time to empty even this relatively small bottle. But as she worked, Tara started to relax. Her body seemed to take over as she suckled while her mind drifted and she soaked up the attention James gave her. He slid his hand along her skin, darting his fingers from her hair to her chin or cheeks. He was treating her like a baby, petting her and keeping her happy, but she couldn’t summon any righteous indignation, no matter how hard she tried.

Finally, Tara emptied her body. James put it down on the coffee table while holding her down with his hand as she tried to get up. “You’re a good girl, but I think you get confused sometimes.”

“Sir?” she asked, definitely confused right then.

“You need to learn how to behave yourself and do what you’re told. When I get you ready to be fed, you need to open your mouth because I want you to be nice and strong. You have a busy day ahead of you, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then you need to eat.”

“Yes, Sir.” He spoke with such force and certainty, Tara almost believed this was where she belonged. He mesmerized her, the same way he did in class.

“Would you like a treat?”

“Yes, Sir!” She remembered what he meant by treat last night. For the moment, he seemed to have forgotten about her spanking. Maybe she managed to make him forget. She had been really good for her bottle, after all.

James rolled her onto her side and unlocked her plastic panties. The waistband went slack as he pulled her back onto her back. “I want your eyes on me, understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, looking at his handsome face, trusting him because she belonged to him. She trusted him the way any baby girl would trust a parent, a babysitter, or the adult who took care of her.

His fingers danced at her belly button. He thrummed her skin until she giggled at his electric touch. He was teasing her, and she knew it, but she couldn’t do anything to stop him, which must have been half the fun.

Within a minute, he started to work his way down. His fingers slipped down her pelvis down to her slit. The heat of passion started to simmer and boil from her naughty bits out to her stomach, chest, her face and lips. Those waves roiled through every inch of her skin.

And he hadn’t even touched her yet!

His fingers finally made it down to her to her slit, yet James didn’t begin to rub her right away. Instead, he stroked her inner thighs. “Oh, your diaper is still dry. I guess you won’t need a change this morning.”

“No, Sir,” she said without any hint of shame. The arousal blocked out any other sensation. It made this all feel right. The bottle, the diaper, the way he held her and talked to her. For the moment, it all seemed so completely natural.

James started to touch her. His fingers slipped into her slit. The warmth of his touch made her gasp and grin like a little girl who just stumbled on some incredible surprise. As he started to tease her clit, Tara gripped the sides of his pants, clutching the material as though she had to hold on lest she get blown away by the winds of her excitement.

Scorching tones of red clouded her cheeks as her mouth opened. Tara started to pant with the rhythm of his touch. The cadence of his finger working down and up, down and up, again and again, made her heart start to thunder through her chest. He played her again, working her as though he understood her every desire and response.

The instinct to shut her eyes rocked through her head, but Tara remembered her teacher’s instructions. She couldn’t allow herself to give in. If she did, he might stop, and she wanted nothing more than for him to finish.

Higher and higher, the intensity of each stroke, each pulsating touch, worked through her nerves. The sensations sang out even as she kept her eyes on her teacher, Professor James Emerson. He grinned down at her.

But then he stopped.

It took her body a second to catch up and realize what happened. Another moment of pleasure rocked through her body before her nerves stopped. Tara groaned and tried to curl up into a ball, but his strong arms kept her on her back.

She tried to sit up. It was an automatic response, but he held her down again and she fell back against his lap with a puffed sigh of frustrated acceptance. What choice did she have?

“Assume the position,” he told her.

Tara reluctantly rolled onto her stomach so that her butt was right at his center, ready for his attention. Her face pressed down into the couch as she considered how he was about to spank her.

She was going to get spanked. The thought made her blush with a fresh bout of humiliation. She wiggled as her body longed to try to escape again, but he would simply grab her and bring her back here. Plus, then the spanking would be so much worse.

All thought of reluctance disappeared when his hand came down on her thigh. She gasped, surprised at the pain. He had spanked her butt last time, so she anticipated the same. But the diaper would have padded the blow. Perhaps he wanted to make sure it hurt even as she endured the humiliation of being disciplined like a misbehaving child.

The second strike came down and she gasped again. Her eyes started to water. She hadn’t lost control so quickly last time. The third strike made her whimper, and Tara didn’t quite know why.

“Please!” she started to blubber, “Please, Sir! I’ll be good from now on! I’m sorry I tried to be bad!”

He paused for a moment, so she thought maybe he had been satisfied until his hand came down again. The painful hit of each blow reverberated through her flesh as she squirmed on his lap.

Her face flushed again. Tara couldn’t help it, not when he pushed her farther and farther. Each hour with him took a little more of her adulthood away. But this time, she couldn’t take another paddling, so she gave in, “Yes, I’ll thank you, Sir. I promise!”

“Then do it.”

She hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to do to it and it took an act of will to force her mouth to put out the words, “Thank you, Sir. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Be careful, little girl, or I’ll decide that I’ll need to take care of you permanently.”

Tara’s face whitened at the thought, but before she could ask what he meant or even convince herself that he was simply taunting her, James rolled her onto her back again. Before she could act in anyway, his hand moved back down her diaper and to her slit.

Tara’s lips parted for him even as she let out an excited breath. It wasn’t fair! She should have been mad at him. He spanked her! He took her onto his lap and spanked her like a bad girl, but with his finger between her legs like this, she felt herself start to drip. Because he hadn’t finished those minutes before, Tara’s body practically sang for him.

Each touch of her clit made her gasp again until her face had brightened to a cherry hue and her heart pounded with the kind of passion her body had never known. Right as he sped up, she imagined him on top of her, working his cock deep inside of her. The orgasm exploded throughout her body, a climax that thundered through every nerve in her body. Her hands clutched, her toes curled, and the world went bright within polychromatic tones.

When he finished, Tara’s body relaxed, every muscle turning to jelly. And it got even better. At first, she thought he would tell her to get up. Instead, he refastened her plastic bottoms and started to pet her. He stroked her hair and let her relax and sink into the receding pleasures of the best orgasm she had ever experienced.

Time lost all meaning. It could have been ten minutes or maybe an hour before he leaned down and asked, “What time is your first class?”

Her eyes popped open as the rest of the world crashed down on her. In those wondrous moments, Tara had forgotten all about the rest of her life. She tried not to let her relaxation freak her out too much. He had petted her so tenderly, after all. She melted in his grip and shouldn’t feel bad about it.

“Yes, Tara?” he sounded so benevolent, and yet she had no doubt he intended to spank her again. She had been so bad after all, refusing her breakfast. For a half-second, Tara almost felt guilty about how she behaved. Then she had to actively remind herself that she wasn’t an infant. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way.

She wasn’t a baby!

“Please, Sir, can I do anything to make up my bad behavior?” She licked her lips and said, “Anything.” At once, she felt his cock stiffen at her offer. At the same time, she ran her teeth along her lower lips as she thought of how it would feel to have his manhood in her mouth. Her pussy started to dampen again. She had never gotten so excited so fast, and yet the idea of having him inside of her pushed every one of her buttons. Repeatedly.

“You’re a good girl, but not this time.” Then he leaned down and said, “Maybe next time. But if you want to really get on my good side, then you’re going to count off each time I spank you. And when I’m done, you’re going to explain what you did wrong and the lesson you learned.”

Her nostrils flared again as a stab of the old aggravation cut through her. Thank him? She wanted to smack him right then, and yet when she stared up at her teacher, Tara felt a sense of submissive longing settle on her chest. She had to please him.

No, Tara realized, she wanted to please him. That’s why she gave in again and said, “Yes, Sir.” If he noticed the reluctant frustration in her voice, he didn’t comment on it.

James rolled her back onto her stomach. Her ass poised before him, encased in her diaper. She shivered a bit as he started to rub the back of her thigh with light, grazing touches. She liked it. A lot. He could read her body language the way most people went through books. No matter how much she pretended to want this to stop, she enjoyed the humiliation of forced regression, which was excellent since he had no intention of stopping.

Professor Emerson brought his hand down. She jumped with the shock of pain, “One.” He struck again and her strained voice came out again, “Two.” He kept at it, spanking her like a naughty girl. Only this time she seemed much more obedient since she counted up and up: six, seven, eight, nine, and finally ten.

Once he slowed down, the backs of her thighs were bright red. The color spread through the rest of Tara’s skin, a combination of frustrated embarrassment, sweet ache, and humiliating pleasure. He loved putting her through this and drank in the sight of her so prostrated and demeaned before him. All too often, pretty girls like Tara got whatever they wanted with a wink and a smile. Now she learned what it meant to be a really good baby girl.

He began to pet her again, and Tara wanted to stay quiet, but she remembered his instructions. Getting up the nerve to demean herself again was harder than she expected. Some part of her really wanted to shut her mouth and dare him to spank her again, but it would hurt and she didn’t want to be punished. As much as her face burned with humiliation at the thought, Tara wanted to be a good girl.

She let out an exacerbated sigh and said, “I’m sorry I misbehaved, Sir. I should have eaten without getting fussy.”

“And are you going to be good and obedient for me?”

She let out another sigh, “Yes, Sir.” Those puffs of resentment were the closest thing she could manage to genuine defiance, but James didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he savored seeing her so powerless. She really did sound like a little girl. Sure, she wanted to push out, but she couldn’t and on some important level, she understood this.

“Good girl,” he told her and helped her back to her feet. “Let’s get you dressed and I’ll give you a ride to school.” She really could have driven herself, but Tara knew better than to risk defying him again. If he wanted to drive her, then fine, he would drive her.

Tara waddled after him as he took her back to the nursery. She guessed it was for her clothes. But when he opened the door for her, she found a set of clothes waiting for her on the changing table.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up the dress. She couldn’t believe he expected her to wear it, and yet she couldn’t think of any other reason he would have put it out for her.

“Your uniform,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Well, your other clothes need to be washed, so I thought I would provide you with something suitable to wear,” he explained as though she were a baby girl who needed to hear this several times.

“No, I am not wearing this.” She held it up and examined the garments more closely. There were knee socks, Mary Jane shoes, and a plaid jumper. With these clothes on, she would have looked like a kindergartner. There was no way she could show up on campus dressed this way.

“Remember the lesson you learned?”

Tara bit down, willing herself not to say something she would regret later. “Yes, Sir.” Getting out those two syllables took a lot of effort.

“Arms up,” he told her.

Tara swallowed as she tried to think of some way to get out of this situation. When nothing came, she raised her arms over her head as he pulled her shirt off of her. He let her keep her bra on even as he picked up the jumper and started to pull it down over her. The plaid patterned fabric clung to her and was shorter than she expected.

A horrifying thought occurred to her, “Sir?”

“What is it, little girl?” He had taken up the socks and started to pull them over her feet, all the way up to her knees. The white material really did make her seem much younger.

“Can I wear my panties?”

He seemed to consider her request for several moments. Her heart pounded again as the seconds ticked past and she watched him for some sign of what his answer would be. Her palms started to itch and her stomach twisted. Tara couldn’t remember ever having been quite this nervous.