Authors: Raya Black
Nurse Fairfax began running a long finger in gentle strokes down her wet cleft. Too light to bring any satisfaction but hard enough to tease and torment her. “What a good girl,” she repeated. “You’ll be making nice cummies for the Duke, won’t you, child?”
Sissy turned her head towards the table and cried. Would her humiliations never cease? Would she suffer the shame and intrusions of the asylum for her entire life? She cried louder as her stomach began cramping again. The nurse, ignoring her cries, continued to run a finger gently down her pussy, making sure Sissy was horrifyingly aware of how moist she had gotten during her enemas.
After the third enema, Sissy was exhausted. She could hardly stand on her own. The nurse picked her up under the arms and slowly lowered her into a hot bath. With shameless thoroughness, Nurse Fairfax scrubbed every inch of Sissy’s body clean.
Sissy stared listlessly into the steaming water. No longer did things still feel like a dream. The surreal nightmarish quality of the Asylum had dissipated. This truly was her life. Tears rolled down her face, dripping into the hot soapy waters of the bath.
Returning to Sissy’s room, Nurse Fairfax picked up the freshly washed and diapered Sissy into her lap as she sat in the rocking chair. Pulling out a bowl of hot porridge with honey, the nurse began to feed Sissy as she gave her reminders on her behavior.
“This is the patron of Dr. Denton’s Asylum, little one,” Nurse Fairfax reminded as she fed Sissy another mouthful of porridge. “Therefore your behavior must be that of the utmost respect and obedience. The Duke will be coming a long way to meet with you and will not be pleased to find an obstinate little hellion on his hands at the end of such a long journey.”
Sissy could hardly prepare her mind for what was about to happen. How could she possibly meet a duke wearing diapers? Living with Lord and Lady Pevin, she would’ve felt inadequate in front of a duke in her best dress. And now, she was expected to meet one wearing a diaper and straightjacket that not only exposed but showcased her bare breasts. It was beyond indecent and Sissy didn’t know if she had enough dignity remaining to feel the adequate amount of shame.
It didn’t matter though. Whether dignity remained or not, it did nothing to cover her nakedness. And it did nothing to slow the Duke’s arrival.
The Duke of Wainwright
Sissy felt her heart pound a divot into her chest as Nurse Fairfax led her by her shoulders to the doctor’s study. As they neared the door, she could hear the deep rumblings of mature male voices. This was truly happening. She would meet her first duke dressed as a baby.
Nurse Fairfax opened the door and immediately fell into a deep curtsy. Out of old habits, Sissy might’ve done so as well but with her arms bound against her, she had no balance for such grace.
“Ah, so here is the patient I wrote to you about, Your Grace,” Dr. Denton said, smiling. He reached out an arm and motioned for Sissy to come in. The nurse gave her a firm nudge forward before walking out of the room with her head reverently bowed.
Sissy felt her eyes frozen wide as she looked upon the two men. Dr. Denton sat in one of the leather chairs near the fireplace while the Duke reclined on the large leather sofa. As the Duke studied her with glinting black eyes, Sissy blew out a low breath in complete shock. The man was so young!
As a founder and patron of such an established asylum with such particular standards, Sissy would’ve thought for sure His Grace would be at least as old as Dr. Denton, if not older. But this man could be no older than five and thirty. His dark black hair gleamed in the light, throwing Dr. Denton’s graying hair into the shadow. The Duke’s sharply chiseled face and air of urbane elegance spoke of breeding and distinguished parentage. As Sissy continued to stare in shock, the dark eyes narrowed against her at her blatant disobedience.
Dr. Denton lowered his voice. “Sissy, come to Uncle
,” he ordered. But Sissy couldn’t lift her feet. All she could think of was her exposed skin brushing against the warm air of the room, all in front of the eyes of such a handsome and illustrious duke.
“Your night of disobedience has been poorly chosen,” the doctor muttered as he quickly stood up and jerked Sissy by her upper arm. Ripping her diaper away, he dragged her towards his large mahogany desk. Dr. Denton bent her over the side of the desk, making sure that her bottom was angled in perfect view for the Duke.
Reaching into a desk drawer, the doctor pulled out a thin switch. “Unquestioning obedience is how little girls show their respect to men of such esteem as His Grace. Failing this is a mark of the highest disrespect and will be punished as so.” Without even so much as a pause after his words, Dr. Denton threw back his arm and landed the switch squarely across both of Sissy’s cheeks.
Her cry echoed across the large office as tears blurred her vision. This kind of pain was unlike anything she had experienced. Barehanded spankings were painful to be sure but the pain was a kind of dull ache executed with heavy force. But the switch was a different beast altogether. It was sharp, precise, and searingly agonizing. It felt as if Sissy had been branded across her bottom with a hot rod.
After the initial swat fully sank in, Sissy began to cry in earnest. “I’m sorry, Uncle! I’m sorry! Please forgive me!” But the doctor was in no mood to show mercy. Without specifying a limit, he rained down a flurry of cracking swats with the thin switch. Soon Sissy felt as if the skin had been flayed off her bottom. Her tears flowed freely as her cries became one long constant moan.
Finally, after such unimaginable pain, Dr. Denton pulled her up roughly by her upper arm. Standing her up by the desk, he returned back to his seat. Holding out an arm, he ordered again, “Sissy, come to Uncle.”
Sissy nearly stumbled as she ran towards the doctor to fulfill his order. Nearly falling into his arms, Sissy gasped and sniffed as a deep heat emanated from her abused backside.
Dr. Denton held her by her bound arms and turned her towards the Duke. “I apologize, Your Grace. Like I mentioned in my missive, she is still undergoing rehabilitation and hasn’t quite made it through the transitional stage. But I knew you would still like to see this patient for yourself.”
Like Nurse Fairfax, the doctor gave the nearly naked Sissy a small nudge towards the Duke. She took hesitant steps towards the dark figure. Sissy finally stood just a few inches away from his knees, scared to go any closer.
The Duke’s eyes probed her with an intensity that made her stomach knot. Finally in a low voice, he asked, “What is your name, little one?”
Sissy felt tears still flowing down her cheeks in hot rivers. He
her name. He had just heard the doctor call her by her name. Why would he ask her for her name? “Sissy,” she said, her voice tight with warring emotions.
The Duke never broke eye contact as he leaned forward on the sofa, bringing himself closer to her. Sissy compelled herself to not take an instinctive step back. With the Duke sitting, she was just barely at eye level with him. He was another large man, large as the doctor, if not larger.
“I am the Duke of Wainwright,” he said in a voice low and soft. It was a voice that expected attention and would not raise its volume to receive it. “You may call me Papa.”
Papa. A man young enough to be a suitable husband to her wanted her to call him Papa. It was unreal how every new curve at the Asylum seemed to further take Sissy’s breath away till she was left bent over and gasping in the dark.
The Duke looked down her body. Without her diaper, she was completely naked, save for her straightjacket. Feeling the heat of his gaze burn across her body, Sissy felt a traitorous wetness leak through her lower folds.
“She has the look of a doll,” the Duke murmured to the doctor.
“Indeed,” the doctor agreed readily. “And the cunny and ass to match. Both so tight, they could break a cock.”
Sissy bit back a moan as she felt the shame of hearing such a description of herself. A large hand reached out towards her small chest. The Duke brushed a long finger against one side of her breast. “Such small and delicate titties as well,” he said. Then suddenly, he grabbed a nipple and twisted it cruelly. Sissy was sure he had ripped it off.
She gasped and uttered a short painful cry of surprise at the abuse. But she also felt the burning speed of pain shoot down to the wetness between her legs, making it all the most more moist and needy.
“Turn around and bend over.” The Duke’s eyes glittered black with the sheer command of his words. Sissy felt fresh tears trickle down her cheeks as she did as she was told. The Duke grasped her hip with one hand and steadied her as she bent over, gasping as she felt the tightness across her bottom as she stretched.
Admiring the redness of her bottom, the Duke pushed a thick thumb between her crack and began slowly pressing against her anus. Sissy uttered a protesting cry but neither man took note. Instead the hard thumb only pushed harder till it penetrated her puckered anus. The Duke hummed at the feel of his thumb being squeezed against Sissy’s asshole.
The Duke, seemingly satisfied, nodded and glanced at the Doctor as he pulled out his finger. “Alright, Denton. Set her up in my rooms. I shall taste this one after another brandy.”
The doctor smiled, pleased that he had piqued the Duke’s interest. Quickly, he rang for Nurse Fairfax and bade her to set Sissy up in the Duke’s chambers for the night.
Without a word of farewell or dismissal, Sissy was rushed away.
Sissy had seen the staircase towards the end of the right corridor but had never been taken up it before. Tonight was different. Wrapping a guiding arm around her shoulders, Nurse Fairfax led Sissy up the stairs while quietly admonishing her for her obvious disobedience, judging by her marked bottom.
Reaching the second level, Nurse Fairfax opened the nearest door, leading Sissy into an opulently decorated chamber. In the far end of the large room was a large, ornately carved bed with rich covers. Closer to the door was a fireplace, grander than the one in Dr. Denton’s office, and a fur rug spread in front of the already crackling fire. Two leather chairs sat on the outskirts of the rug with a table in between bearing a crystal decanter of spirits and two waiting tumblers.
The nurse sat Sissy on the thick fur rug in front of the fire. Picking up a leather harness that was resting on one of the leather chairs, she began buckling Sissy’s ankles with a pair of brown leather cuffs that were linked together with a bit of chain. She then locked a leather collar around Sissy’s neck. With the remaining bit of chain, she linked both ankles to her collar, loosely enough that Sissy could still bend on her knees, similar to her enema position, but tight enough that she couldn’t possibly crawl away.
Standing, Nurse Fairfax straightened her skirts. With a thorough look over her patient to make sure each cuff was tightly buckled, she gave Sissy a short nod. “Best to make yourself comfortable there, child. The Duke has business to speak of with the doctor. He’ll come when he’s ready for you.” And with a little pat on Sissy’s head, the nurse left her to contemplate her ominous remark.
Although she had highly doubted her ability to sleep while feeling such anxiety, she must have dozed off. Because Sissy woke to the sound of crystal on crystal as the Duke sat in one of the leather chairs, pouring a glass of whiskey into one of the tumblers.
Sissy immediately sat up. It was an awkward struggle with her arms bound and her legs chained but she managed. The Duke watched her struggles without comment, only sipping casually at his whiskey.
After taking a measured sip, the Duke pointed his chin at Sissy. “Turn around and get onto your knees,” he ordered. Sissy stared for just one extra second before she saw the tightening in his jaw. Quickly, she flipped herself over, feeling ridiculously embarrassed about her lack of grace. With how short the chains were from her ankles to her throat, she was forced to have her head down against the rug, her naked bottom sticking out obscenely towards the Duke.
Sissy heard His Grace take another sip of the whiskey as she knelt on the floor, presenting herself like a bitch in heat. The imagery couldn’t be closer to the truth as she realized how revealing this position was for her wet pussy. She quietly moaned in embarrassment and buried her head against the rug.
As she inhaled the dusty odors of the rug, Sissy felt something press against her wet cleft. She gasped as it ran the length of her labia. She couldn’t turn her head to look but as the smooth pressure grew, she gasped as she realized it was his shoe. From his seat, he was casually pressing his shoe against her exposed and aroused pussy.
Taking another sip, the Duke said in a deep voice of long held authority, “Sissy, ride Papa’s shoe like your training dildo.”
Sissy gasped at the command. With her bent so obscenely and her nudity so blatant, he also wanted her to bounce upon his shoe? Sissy wanted to cry and protest but the heat from the switch still blazed across her bottom. Biting her lip as her shame dipped to a level she would’ve thought impossible, Sissy slowly began grinding her hips against the Duke’s shoe.
With each swivel of her hips, she felt her humiliation flare across her body. But she also felt the heat of her pussy radiate across her stomach and up her chest, puckering her nipples in aching need.
“Tell Papa where his shoe is,” the Duke ordered, his voice like a floating banner of rigid authority and command above Sissy’s head.
Panting as she felt the heat of arousal beginning to consume her body, Sissy keened in embarrassment. Wasn’t it shaming enough to have to ride Papa’s shoe like a wanton doxy?
A sharp kick to her wetness told Sissy otherwise. Gasping in pain and pleasure, Sissy cried, “Papa’s shoe is...is in my cunny.” She moaned in shame but continued to gyrate over the toe of the leather shoe, now slick with her juices. She shuddered as she ground her clit against the hardness.