Persia's World

Usually, I’m all for consent. But there was a situation lately, where a friend of mine got manipulated and badly hurt by what can only be described as manipulative, childish bitch. And, I couldn’t help but imagine, if my ethics were a little bit dodgier… If I had a little more energy… If I had access to just a little more time, resources etc…

The woman stands in front of you, naked, cold, trembling. Her recent experiences could only be described as traumatic – taken from her bed by masked strangers, gagged, tied and brought to this strange place. She stands in a relatively comfortable room, a single bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers. A few teddies in the corner. Bright colours. She’s trying to cover herself, one hand across her chest, another across her thighs.

It doesn’t work of course, but you smile at the sight. A far cry from the temper tantrum throwing little bitch you witnessed a few weeks ago. She won’t recognise you. Between the mask and the clothing change, you’re a strange, tall mystery woman right now.

Plus, from the way she’s hopping from foot to foot, she’s dying for the bathroom. But there’s no obvious facilities here.

“Well, my dear, you’re not quite as loud as you were the last time I saw you.”

She can’t answer, although she tries, through the gag.

You laugh.

“No, I don’t need to hear what you have to say right now. I’m going to tell you a few things now about how things are going to work. You should think of this as an opportunity for personal development. Maybe an exploration of your character. It won’t always be fun, but you will find out things about yourself that you didn’t know before!”

She doesn’t realise what’s coming. She’s already realised she can’t remove the gag by herself, since she’s stopped trying, but she’s getting very desperate for the bathroom. Her eyes are pleading with you, but it’s all part of the plan.

Youstay standing, watching, not passive, but receptive. She’s gabbling away behind the gag now, probably begging for a bathroom, but you don’t move. She starts to run around the room, tries the door, opens the wardrobe, looks under the bed for some reason? The panic in her body is obvious.

Eventually with a sob, she crouches in the corner, hugging her knees. A stream of urine flows from her onto the floor as she cries. With a smile, you crouch in front of her.

“No bladder control, little girl? Maybe we need to go back to nappies then, til we train you better.”

She looks at you horrified. Now, she’s not small enough for you to pick up, especially not in heels! But you take her hand and pull her up. Carefully, you remove the gag, throw it on the floor. Funnily enough, it lands in the middle of her puddle and she winces.

Laughing, you assure her you’ll probably remember to wash it before using it again.

“Who are you? Where am I? What the fuck is going on?”

You expected this, but language like that will not be tolerated. You address it immediately, bending her over your knee and delivering three sharp smacks to her bum.

They don’t hurt, you’re aiming to shock, not harm, but she cries out all the same and tries to rub herself.

You take hold of both hands now, looking deep into her eyes. “Swearing is not appropriate for a little girl. I won’t tolerate it. Next time, it will be a proper spanking”.

She’s not taking it in, that’s obvious. Sighing, you pull her over to the door and unlock it, taking her into the corridor and to the bathroom. You have to drag her, she struggles the whole way. As you reach the bathroom, she tries to bite you. Again, you deal with it immediately.

“If you can’t control your mouth, whether words or teeth, I will gag you again. And I probably won’t have time to wash the gag right now.”

She’s screaming now, really fighting back. You’re stronger and control her easily, pushing her into the shower and turning on the water. Usually, you’d let the water heat up first before putting her in for a wash, but she needs the shock. Shrieking, she struggles as you start with her hair, probably swallowing lots of water.

“You’re filthy, little girl, I have to wash you. Now, stay still, or you’ll find out how much worse a spanking on a wet bum feels like.”

You give her a bit of a shake as well, suds flying everywhere. This is going to be a bitch to clean up, but that’s not the point here. As you wash the suds from her hair, you keep her head tipped back, so as not to let the shampoo into her eyes. Conditioner goes a bit easier as she settles, but as you pick up the sponge to tackle her body, she clamps her hands across her chest and thighs again.

You sigh, again.

“You’ve just wet yourself, little girl. Before I put you to bed, I have to wash you. Now you have a choice. Either you let me wash you, or I turn you round and use this bath brush on your bum until you agree to let me wash you. Which will it be?”

Since you block any escape and the bath brush is fairly impressive looking, you’re not surprised when she forces her hands to her sides. It’s obviously a struggle, so you stroke her wet hair and praise her for being a good girl, before soaping every inch of her. She struggles with separating her legs for you to wash her pussy and you think you’re going to have a problem when you bend her over your arm to wash her bum properly, but she controls herself.

She’s shaking by the time you’re finished, but you wrap her up in a towel and sit her in front of the mirror to dry her hair. She’s probably in shock at this point, but there’s more to come. You brush out her hair as you dry it and settle for putting it into two plaits down her back, explaining it will help it not be knotted in the morning.

You guide her back to the bedroom, lock the door again, and reach into her chest of drawers for her onesie. It’s a pink, with the zips along the legs to allow for nappy changing, something she doesn’t realise as you pull it over her head. She’s very passive and her eyes are drooping as you lie her back on the bed and lift her legs. At this point, how much she is taking in is questionable, so you change your plans a bit.

You use the cream to prevent nappy rash and fasten the nappy securely. Slide her legs into the onesie and do up the zips. You stand her up to pull back the bedcovers and lie her down again. Reaching into the chest of drawers again, you pull out the milk bottle. It’s still just a bit warm, so you prop her head up on your arm and present it to her mouth. She opens it and starts to suck, her eyes definitely closed now. You doubt she’s aware at all what’s going on.

As she drifts off to sleep, you explain what’s going to happen.

“Since you acted like a spoilt baby, that’s how I’m going to treat you. Until you prove you’ve matured a bit, you will be in onesies and nappies. You will be supervised at all times. You will be fed and changed when needed. I will spank your bottom when you misbehave though. You will get used to that and hopefully learn to behave better. Very often, you will probably find yourself standing with your nose in the corner and your red bum on display. During these times, I expect you to think about your behaviour and be able to tell me how you will do better afterwards.”

It’s not that you expect her to remember any of this of course, but she might. And you’ll go over it again in the morning anyway.

“Now, I can see you are pretty much asleep, so I’m going to turn your nightlight on and turn the baby monitor on. I’m not far away. Under no circumstances are you to get out of bed without me getting you up. I will put up the bed rails anyway, but do not climb out. It’s not safe.”

You turn down the lights, and set the bottle on the chest of drawers before setting the bed rails in place. She could climb over them of course, and you expect her to, but that will earn her her first proper spanking and time out. Using a towel, you mop up her shameful little puddle from earlier and take her bottle with you to be washed for the morning.

And, naturally, you lock the door on your way out.