Pink and Plasticy

After Mistress Amber got finished [playing dress-up][1], she took pictures to show Mistress M, that yes, I show up dressed up exactly like she had sent me. I’m not sure what else she was expecting.



And then she decided to punishment me for being “late”. It’s not as if I was taking my time arriving–it’s just a long trip. I think she was just mad that Mistress M had come through and I hadn’t spent three hours in her diabolical outfit. So she decided to keep me in it even longer than the trip would had. She stripped me down, duct taped on a regular diaper, put on pink plastic panties, stuffed them as tight as they would go then finished dressing me up and locking on some cuffs.

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As I waddled around the house she kept threatening that if I didn’t shape up, she would send me out on errands like this. No, she wouldn’t. When it finally was time for me to run out, she did me a great favor and let me pull out the extra stuffing and the jumbo tits. Thanks. How about letting me take the rest of it off before I go out next time, huh?

When I got back, she found the need to continue the punishment–only worse than before. She replaced the semi-comfortable collar with the posture collar and then poured a 32oz bottle of freezing cold ice water down the front of my diaper. (Apparently I was supposed to drink the whole thing while I was gone. Who drinks an ice cold Gatorade, in the middle of winter, in less than an hour? I guess I was supposed to.) She then re-stuffed the plastic with even more than before and, since I didn’t look silly enough, put me in a babydoll-like dress. (It would have looked a bit more like a babydoll if the top actually matched the skirt, but it was not to be.

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Then after getting her jollies watching me dry hump the floor, she waddled me ragged around the house for the next two hours. Outside to get the trash. To the garage to unpack the car. Dirty clothes to the basement. Clean clothes to the second floor. Waddle, waddle, waddle–you’d have thought I was a duck. She just needed a good goose.


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Hi Stacee Skye,
As I read your waddling adventure, I was thinking about a duck. You beat me to the punch line. You may have a little clown in you. You should hope that Mistress A. does not get an idea for adding feathers. You know with the rabbit ears and now duck waddle, you make a fine Easter sissy.

I will not be turned into a multi-colored waddling easter sissy.

You know, Stacee, the thing that jumps out at me most when I read your posts is the same thing I find during our training sessions – you wouldn’t get in half as much trouble if you’d just learn to keep your mouth shut! Gags don’t seem to help, so maybe I should start washing your mouth out with soap. Hopefully then you’ll learn to only speak with humility and gratitude for all the trouble Mistress Amber & I go through to see that you are a properly trained sissy.

I go through and make a complete and truthful accounting of the entire punishment just to get told that I need to be more grateful for being dressed up like that? I should be grateful that I could barely walk for 4 hours? I should be grateful I got dressed up as a big baby and then sent out on errands? This seems like pretty common sense stuff.

Things could have been worst. You could have been given a big enema and fed the diaper from inside.

Hello Stacee Skye: No I have not, but that was that only thing I could think of that would have been worst. There is always a bright spot and things can always get worswe.

@Stacee Skye
Hi Stacee Skye,
Did you escape being a Easter Sissy?
Happy Easter to all.

@pieclown: Thankfully Mistress Amber is out of town and couldn’t go through with her multi-colored Easter sissy threat. No bunny ears for me, thanks.

“It can always get worse” seems to be one of Mistress Amber’s favorite phrases. And she has never been wrong so far: it has always gotten worse…sometimes much worse.

[…] the disposable diaper, put on one that is “super-stuffed”. (Like these pictures of Stacee Skye.) The diaper should be secure and stuffed enough to ensure that you can only […]

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