A Sweet Sissy

A darling little diaper sissy was sweet enough to indulge me in a few quick snaps with my iPhone. Enjoy!

The Age Play and Diaper Fetish Handbook

Penny Barber has put her years of experience as a diaper fetish model, AB/DL switch, and professional Mommy into The Age Play and Diaper Fetish Handbook: The Ultimate Guide to the World of AB/DL. It is the first complete resource for anyone who wants to know about the world of age players and diaper lovers. Perfect for professional players, the partners of AB/DLs, and AB/DLs themselves, The Handbook is packed with practical tips on everything from choosing the perfect diaper to administering AB/DL punishments to the best regression methods.

For more information, including pictures, an excerpt, the Table of Contents, and downloadable resources, visit AgePlayAndDiaperFetishHandbook.com.

A Favorite Solution

As has been occasionally discussed elsewhere, I am an enema enthusiast. This surprises some, as any form of scat play is a hard limit, but I greatly enjoy administering enemas and the humiliation that comes even with the expulsion of clean, clear water, which is the only type I allow in my scenes.

When administering an enema, I prefer my playmate to bring his or her own equipment. Of course there are bags and douche style, Fleet enemas available for those who cannot or will not bring their own, but these are cheap and disposable and my favorite way to administer an enema is with a large, red bag or, even better, a bulb syringe.

The bag is appealing because of the visual it offers, standing out against a while wall, bulging with solution. The clicking of the flow control is also rather satisfying--or ominous, depending which side of the nozzle one is on. And the speed of the flow can be increased or decreased by raising or lowering the bag.

The syringe, on the other hand, allows for the over the knee positioning I find so appealing. It leaves the hind quarters vulnerable and the syringe must be filled over and over again. One can count the fillings, while one cannot always see the bag draining. The open basin can also allow the scent of a lavender or peppermint solution to waft around the room.

Peppermint oil is by far my favorite additive to enema water. It is mild, but still smells strongly and is deeply cleansing. Of course castile soap and other mild soaps, such as a dissolved bar of Ivory soap, are also useful, especially for institutional enemas. Other favorites include milk, olive oil, and baby oil.

I usually give warm enemas over cold, but the cold enema does have its place in the realm of punishment, often combined with punishment while waiting for the water to take its effect, though of course I like to do that anyway. Seeing a reddened tush in a corner, wiggling from side to side in an attempt to hold something in is more fun than watching a pale, untouched bottom.

As for retaining the solution, I prefer diapers over plugs to avoid leaks. If a playmate simply cannot abide diaper discipline, he or she is never taken far from the toilet and absorbent pads--more or less flat diapers laid upon the floor--are used instead. I've had mixed success in using plugs. Not only to they leak, but they must be removed to expel and usually a warning comes to late to allow me to remove the plug myself. I think they're an idea better suited to fiction or those with an interest in scat play.

I used to don a plastic apron for administering an enema, more for the ritual and institutional feel, and because it went so well with an adult baby's plastic pants, than for any protection, but it has since deteriorated and needed to be discarded. I've yet to find another to my liking, but do keep an eye out.

A Plan for K

K arrived at La Maison in a suit, tie, and Oxfords. What a big boy. He has, however, shown himself to be a whiny little baby on many occasions. He is very needy and can't take even the lightest spanking. This is not to mention that he shops online like crazy, spending hundreds of dollars every day on things that he simply doesn't need. When he came to me and asked for help in fixing this behavior, I knew just what to do.

K admitted to a fixation on two things: women's high heels and diapers. He couldn't explain either fixation (who ever can?), but he thought I would find the information helpful in getting him under control.

He gave me his limits, which ran the basic lines of no marks, no extreme pain, and so on. He would most likely be discovering new limits in the course of play, since he has very little experience and wanted to be experimented with, and understood this. Yet he also understood that he would not like everything done to control his behavior.

We began with a detailed inquiry into his personal life. What was it like at home? How was work? How often did he have sex? What was a typical weekend? How was his access to discreet cash? Did he have a hiding place? What were his recreational habits? As he sat on the chair before me, I could see him becoming less and less comfortable as I made notes on my yellow legal pad, often with disapproving little grunts. He was given the option of withholding information that he felt was too sensitive, but not of lying. Never, ever is he to lie to me, not if he wants my help.

Once the interview was concluded, he was instructed to strip down and an invasive physical was begun. K was poked, prodded, and exposed. His member proved to be very responsive, but a chastity device brought it under quick control, or at least left him groaning uncomfortably. When he asked if it was really necessary, he was given the option of upgrading to electrical correction, which he declined with a humble, "I'll be good."

A complete dossier was compiled on K and he was instructed to report back in two weeks to find how his new life has been planned out. The chastity device was not removed. Stay tuned!

The Babysitter

The role of the bratty, domineering teen is one that I often enjoy as a top, whether as a daughter, school girl, or, in this case, babysitter. O appeared quite confident in his email, even a little arrogant. When he arrived for the session, he strode right in and began marching down the hall. Standing calmly by the door, I asked if he had been there before. He stopped short and said that, no, he had not. Smiling, I advised that perhaps he should wait for me then. From there he became much more pliable. Perhaps it was seeing that I am, indeed, a person. Or perhaps he was just nervous.

We sat and talked for a few minutes in the sitting room. O was a disposable diapers and plastic pants kind of guy. For a long time I was, too, but now I'd say that I've branched out, though I may just be in a phase. (My fetishes ebb and flow.) He was also looking to try out spanking again, which had gone wrong the first time he'd tried.

O had gotten over this, but novices seem to come in two types: those who think that they wouldn't enjoy a "real spanking" and only want a sensual spanking and those who seem to think that a "real spanking" is somehow superior to a sensual one, though of course a "real spanking" is given by someone the spankee rarely finds attractive and only lasts a few minutes at most. Over time, there is usually a degree of compromise, with those fearful of a real spanking taking one much harder than they might have believed themselves capable of not only bearing, but enjoying. Those who feel that a sensual spanking somehow wouldn't count generally learn to enjoy their spanking and the sensual drawing out of it, the ticking tracing of fingers during intermediate chastising, the search for that one sweet spot that will make a submissive's back arch so becomingly. While I don't deny the good, moralizing effect of a "real" or punishment spanking, rather I enjoy it very much, I do tend towards more sensual spankings, which are nonetheless very firm and hard, but that teach a lesson by their positioning, their caring or stern application, and the verbal chastisement that accompanies them.

The scenario was that O was an unruly teen and I was his sitter. His parents were out of town for the week. On our first night together, O had gone out and gotten drunk (pissed, in fact!), then come home and wet the bed. Not only that, but he'd left his wet sheets for me to clean up! Obviously, I was ticked off!

Taking O into his room, I told him that his behavior was unacceptable and that I intended to do something about it. He didn't seem to be taking me seriously. At one point, I mentioned that he hadn't even apologized, something that always produces an immediate apology, though of course I say it doesn't count under that circumstance. O's response? "Why should I apologize? It was an accident."

There was clearly no need for further discussion. I stripped O of everything but his underwear and pulled him over my lap. The first flurry of swats was lighter and placed over the expanse of his bottom, my hand lifting up to skim his cheeks, pulling the skin so that it jigged in the thin cotton of his boxer shorts. O was not a wiggler, as most males are not. More's the shame! I love having a naughty, squirming, spanked boy in my lap. However, I feel that leg kicking is strictly for sissies.

As O's bottom became accustomed to being spanked, growing warmer and more yielding, I slipped down his underwear and began to spank his bare bottom, reddening it first with my bare hand, then with a heavy wooden hairbrush. O would tell me later that he actually found the hairbrush difficult to bear, but he did so stoically. It is always my advice to a spankee that letting it out in shrieks, moans, and even a little struggling can make a spanking that much easier to take.

From there, I placed O in diapers, after securing his promise to do exactly what I said for the remainder of our time together. After all, as I had taken a few snaps of him lying unconscious in his wet bed on my cell phone, how could he deny me? He proceeded to wet every single diaper I had with me. Seriously, he wet four or five diapers in about an hour! I couldn't believe it.

O also spent some time in the corner, with more swats to keep his bum red. Beyond that, most of our time was spent just changing diapers with lots of baby powder, baby lotion, baby oil, and more.

Age Regression Virus

I just did another fun and interesting age play session. Often regression stories are almost more science fiction than erotica. In some of the videos I've done there are often science fiction or fantasy elements, as in "Diaper Fairy" or "Penny Gets Regressed". Usually it's by some sort of fantasy drug, but this age player had an idea for a session that just hadn't occurred to me yet, which was that some sort of virus was causing regression, including a loss of bladder control.

The Nurse is one of my favorite roles to play in an age regression scenario, especially a school nurse. It's the perfect blend of innocence and sex, cruelty and compassion, distance and intimacy. And damn do I feel hot wearing my white button-up dress and starched cap! I prefer playing a nurse to a doctor because it seems more intimate. I've spoken to some other Mistresses about it and a lot of them prefer to play the doctor because they perceive it as being a position of more power, but the intimacy of a nurse is way more appealing to me. I like the idea of being privy to all a patient's private experiences: changing their sheets, giving enemas, changing diapers, giving baths. A doctor doesn't do any of those things. I also like the energy of a nurse. Of course there are women doctors and male nurses, but the icon of the female nurse, bending over and perhaps unwittingly showing her cleavage in her low-cut white dress is very strong, almost archetypal.

I haven't done a session like this yet, but I've always thought a medical age play session would be great for a two-Mistress session. I'd love to take a young man by the arm and lead him into the Examination Room where I roughly undress him and tell him to sit on the exam table while the doctor slowly flips through his chart, reading off the various reasons for his visit and listing her concerns: he's been having a lot of accidents lately, he's begun having an alarming number of wet dreams (his mother has to wash his sheets every day!), and he sometimes slips into baby talk. However, the reason does not seem to be psychological. As the doctor performs a number of embarrassing tests, I stand coldly by, handing her various instruments and helping to restrain the ashamed (and perhaps visibly aroused) patient. I make a note every time he resists, so that he may be appropriately punished later. And yet, every now and then I might caress his thigh reassuringly when the doctor's back is turned or tell him that I personally think his diapers are a little sexy.

From PamperedPenny.com.

Ms. Penny Proves It

I'm often contacted by emerging sissies and adult babies who have trouble experiencing the headspace that they would like to. When you're a six foot tall man, it can be difficult to feel like an adorable, submissive little plaything. Helping someone break that barrier and get the fullfillment they've only dreamed of is extremely satisfying.

A came to me not sure of his interests. He only knew that he continually returned to websites featuring stories of feminization and diaper discipline. He'd never actually worn a diaper, but had often played with professional dominants, chasing that feeling of being subversively cajoled into experiencing his secret fantasy.

I answered the door wearing my emerald satin robe, my hair swept up into a casual bun sprouting gentle curls, white enamel earrings adorning my lobes. We sat on the leather couch and talked about his interests for a bit. He was obviously very anxious to experience the helplessness of being my diapered sissy, but worried that I wouldn't understand his need, just like the other women he had played with.

When I felt I had a good idea of what he needed from me, I undressed him, noting that boxer briefs were not appropriate underclothes for him, and took his clothes to the locking closet in the hall and threw them in, dropping the key into my pocket. If he wanted them back, he was going to have to behave himself. I asked him if he promised to do everything I asked of him and he said yes, without hesitating. I couldn't help but laugh. Did he really think it was so easy? Was it really such a good idea to just agree? After all, we had not met before and no matter how he sliced it, he was alone in a room with a strange woman and no clothes. At this point he began to realize what he had gotten himself into.

Stripped and at my mercy (he was a tiny little thing), I led him back to the bedroom and had him lie down on the bed, which was covered with a changing pad. I removed my robe to reveal my favorite green girdledress and flesh-tone stockings. I couldn't get baby powder all over my pretty satin robe, now could I? A didn't know whether he preferred cloth or disposable diapers, so we tried both. First I put him in a disposable with lots of baby powder. It's so much fun to make a grown man smell so sweet and innocent. The smell of baby powder is essential to true regression and sissyhood.

As is a spanking. :) I gave A a nice, submission spanking, turning his cheeks a becoming pink. It was almost as though his bottom were embarrassed by all the attention to the point of blushing!

Diapered, spanked, and perfumed, A was ready to be dressed. I selected a crocheted bunny cap and a pink dress so short as to almost be a shirt, just to show off the diaper and freshly spanked thighs all the more.

The rest of our time together was spent proving to A that he was not really a man, but a sissy who was desperately in need of an attitude adjustment. When he did not speak like a little sissy, a pink pacifier was put into his mouth and he was forbidden to talk any more. When his twirl was unsatisfactory, he was spanked with his own belt, which made him jerk and twist in the most ridiculous manner.  When he was making sissy cream, I pointed out that, should he fail to make creamy, he was impotent and not really a man, whereas if he succeeded (and, boy, did he ever!) he was doing so in a pink dress and diaper. A sissy baby just can't win!

In the end, A had to walk away with the sure knowledge that he was nothing but a sissy baby who desperately needed to be doted upon by his loving Mommy.