Brat Sitter

In the future, society is run by the MATRON AI system. Life has three distinct stages, the beginning years from 1-20, young adulthood that can last from 1 to 100 years, and Maturity from then on. Young Adults (YAs) are expected to live and work in tired communities based on their accomplishments, effort, "valuation," and "life track." Society can be quite strict with those who are either naturally submissive (seen as a sign of requiring stern care-taking by Society) or who step out of line.

Disobedience is dealt harshly.

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Brat Sitter

Thessia-3 (2.1: Attractive and cute young woman)

Accomplishments: Exceptional Certification In Disciplinary Arts (5), Certification in Disciplinary Psychology (4)

Effort: High (enthusiastic). [4]

Valuation: Tier 3 (High Valuation--still young)

Life Track: Aspirational Senior Disciplinarian at the Disciplinarium, Current Freelance Discplinarian

Total Basic Value: 4 (high).

Age: 31

Apparent Age: 31

NOTE: Thessia is a highly intelligent young woman with excellent disciplinary instincts. During her post-academy training, she developed a crush on a senior instructrix and was an object lesson to the class on the use of ungoverned emotions for both gentle humiliation and punishment modifications. She has taken to them well, learned a difficult lesson, and gone forward as an accomplished Domestic Discipline free-lance punishment specialist. Currently she is doing very well. In the future she will need guidance to find a partner who can provide structure for her.

I got out on the Arbeloq platform and hurried down the street in the Kavath District. It was pricey and high class for Qualith and the big housing towers soared above me. In the shop windows I passed, Tier 4s and 5's did "mannequin duty" standing in display windows, trying not to move in various baroque and revealing outfits as their anuses or pussys itched and or their bowels and bladders complained.

I liked the sense of ambient desperation the street conveyed: rows of brats regretting their misbehavior! It appealed to me as I'm a freelance disciplinarian who makes house-calls. I'm a 'sitter.' My com showed the destination ahead on the left and I hurried before Qualith started raining again.

I got looks as I entered the lobby. It was expansive with a marble analogue floor, a couple of girls behind the desk my professional eye told me were bare from the waist down. There was a sculpture of Leda being fucked by the mythic swan in a water-feature fountain in the center. It was fancy.

I nodded to the girls, who were staring at my horns, and paged the client. I moved towards the lifts. I'd have normally spent a little bit of effort to make the girls squirmy by coming close enough to see their bad little twats--but timing was close and I was never late.

I have cute little "reindeer horns" and a slight nose modification to give it a perky up-tilt. You can't see it well, but under my blouse, rising above my buttocks is a soft short tail that sticks up with fur around it--like a doe, I'm told. They are punishment mods--and getting them was no fun at all--but now they make me look more exotic and I like that. My clients do too--the YAs I 'sit' less so. A sitter with punishment mods is generally more feared.

I stepped into the lift, adjusting my large bag of equipment and let it lift me up. Ding! Out on the floor and down the nice clean hall to the client's large flat.

I'd done my homework when the offer came in. He was in his 3rd decade of being a YA but had already passed his first Maturity Exam. Usually that wasn't even attempted until their 5th Decade. He also held belts in martial arts and fencing. He looked sharp. As a Tier-3, he was nearly at the top of the scale: I'd have been intimidated to have him as a ward. He might have been able to take what I'd provide!

I wasn't there to 'sit' him, though: I was there tonight for his Significant Other, Aesa.

"Mr. Varnal," I said, giving him a slight bow. A curtsey would be more socially correct, but my bag of gear was a bit heavy. He was dressed formally in black and white. He gave me an easy smile. "Ms Thessia! Pleased to meet you. Come in--my Little is in the Viewing room."

I smiled and stepped past him inside. I could feel him looking at my horns. I had a brief fleeting mental image of him reaching under my blouse and taking my doe-tail in his hands. I'd probably wet myself! I shook it off.

"I'm here, sir," I said, sweeping in with all the authority I could project. "You Little is in excellent hands! You are free to go about your business!" I gave him a smile. He smiled back and nodded.

"You came highly recommended," he nodded. I wondered who had recommended me. A quick scan hadn't turned up any connections in the social-network web. Still, we were both Tier-3s so there were going to be portions of our profiles and connections that we wouldn't be able to see in each other's. On the other hand,, Varnal was so accomplished, if I had a client who was connected to him, I thought I'd have known.

Varnal was highly impressive. Asea, on the other hand...

I walked with him into the main-room and found her sitting cross-legged on the couch wearing pajamas, and eating kibble-chips out of a bag. She looked pouty and sullen. Defiant even. I'd gone through her profile: she was a serious brat.

Her crime, most currently, was returning to an audacious on-line argument with a rival where they called each other names, broke forum rules, and slung accusations and incriminations. Her Top, Varnal and told her in no uncertain terms to knock it off, and she hadn't. He started yesterday, grounding her for a month.

I'd have found that far too little for such abject disobedience--but, apparently, her bad behavior and his a-bit-too-mild correction had come to a head, and, as he had an Executive Function he couldn't miss to spend time at home, seeing to his Little, he'd done the right thing: he'd called me.

Asea was of the slightly chubby variety that some boys (and girls) liked. Her cute features were marred by an insolent look that I was determined to fix quickly. She was clearly pouting about being stuck home while he went to the function--but that look changed to alarm when she saw me.

"Asea," Mr. Varnal said, "This Ms. Thessia-3. She's going to be your sitter tonight."

I gave her the friendliest smile I could muster. My clients usually want their Little's corrected--but they also want them cared for (sometimes my appointments are a reward for the Little--I'll tell you a little bit about later!). I'm not just there to punish them--I'm there to correct them, and Asea might be quite a little brat, but as my charge, I was fond of her.

"VARN!" her yip of distress amused me. I hoped that her Big wasn't overcome with concern for her. "It was just an argument! Klassi started it! You don't need a sitter!"

I made sure not to look at Mr. Varnal. The key here is to establish the firmness of the decision. I hoped he didn't back down.

"Aesa," he said patiently. "I have to go. Ms. Thessia is going to be in charge of you, until I return. You're to be obedient to her. If she contacts me with any recalcitrance, I'm going to assign you a bunch of domestic demerits. I ought to have done this sooner anyway."

He kissed his palm and gave her a sweeping bow: The equivalent of a hug and a kiss for a Little who was bristling with indignation. Her face was red with anger and she started to get up--to stop him from leaving without banishing me.

I met her eyes: "Sit!" I pointed at the sofa. This was a test--I put all the command I could into my voice. She stood still for a moment, and I realized she was going to be a challenge. I was pleased that Mr. Varnal had retreated into the hall to the flat's door. She couldn't see him, even though he could still hear us. It wasn't at all optimal--he needed to go but it was better than him hovering where she could see him.

"Asea-Nixli," I said using an intentionally demeaning turn of affection, making my voice crisp and confident, "you are going to sit down on that couch right. Now." I met her eyes. I could feel my antlers tingle and a sense of pressure in the tail nub I'd gotten as punishment.

Scowling. She sat. I felt some relief: Having to force the issue with Mr. Varnal here would be poor management. I hope he took the cue and left. I let my bag of gear settle to the ground. I strode forward to stand before her, not risking even a glance back to see if her big had gone.

Sitting, she was forced to look up at me. She had her arms crossed tight. She glared.

I gave her an approving nod. A little positive reinforcement never hurt. "I'm going to be taking care of you tonight," I explained to her. "As Mr. Varnal said I'm Miss Thessia." I gave her my Nursery-Teacher smile. I was gratified this turned up the intensity of her glare. "I have a bunch of enrichment activities planned for us--and I'm sure you'll appreciate them as much as I do!"

She said nothing. I heard the door close to the flat. Good. He'd gone. I was now the sole authority figure in the house. Asea heard it too, and I saw the anger and desperation rise in her. I could tell her self control broke, probably before even she was aware of it. She stood, awkwardly, as I was too close to her for her to stand up easily.

She was furious, and she was going to get in my face. Bad move, honey.

I easily placed my palm on her chest and, with a little flex of my hips, shoved her back into the sofa. It was a solid push and while it didn't hurt, she went into the cushions with a little "whuff." I suppressed a smile, making myself look cross. "Nixli!" I said warningly. I leaned in close, knowing what she'd do.

She did it. She reached up a hand for one of my antlers. Most punishment modifications--such as my tail, are so sensitive that grabbing one is so uncomfortable for the person that it gives you a bunch of control over them. My antlers have similar properties, but I got them because my disciplinarian thought they looked cute. They certainly could be used to punish me--but the grab wasn't even hard defiance--it was desperation. I saw it coming.

I caught her hand in a practiced move and twisted her wrist. It hurt--she yowled. I didn't let go. For instances, she presumed I wouldn't actually break her wrist, and persevered in her struggle. She was right: I wouldn't have. What she was wrong about was how much the wrist lock would hurt before it broke. She cried out--and then howled as her resolve collapsed. It hurt too much.

Using pain compliance I got her partially up and then rotated her, putting her face down on the floor. I got her arm locked behind her back and squatted over her, keeping the lock tightened so it continued to hurt.

I held it, patiently, until she gasped.

"Stop--STOP--PLEASE!!"

On the 'please,' I lightened up--but still kept her trapped.

"Is Asea-Little submitting?" I asked sweetly, rubbing it in. That worked. She tried to get her legs up, maybe to get them under her. I put more pressure on her arm and shoulder and she yelped.

"Yes! Yes! OW!!"

I kept it tight--hurting--"Yes, what?" I asked, keeping my voice sweet.

"YES!" She howled. She knew what I wanted. She didn't want to give it to me. I smirked and tightened the hold a little. "Ahhh!!" She cried out. "I'm SUBMITTING," I grinned.

"Who is submitting?" I asked coyly. I could feel her struggles increase with the indignity--but I had her face down with a painful hold and her struggling just made it hurt more.

"I AM!" She gasped. "I'm submitting!"

"Who?" I asked, the confusion in my voice theatrical and patient. I slightly increased the pain level.

"I--I--Ahh!! ASEA-LITTLE IS SUBMITTING!" she cried out. I heard a tiny break in her voice at saying it. I didn't want to bring her to tears with joint pain. I immediately lightened up.

"Asea-Little is going to behave herself?" I asked cautiously. A delay here would have us go back to the arm lock, but thankfully, she nodded her head against the carpet and snuffled an affirmative.

I gently guided her arm out of the lock and gently massaged her shoulder. I knew it was sore (as well as her wrist) and let my strong fingers dig in and rub.

"Okay," I said. "We've established that Asea-Little may be upset about it, but she's going to be obedient with Miss Thessia." I said it as a statement, but she nodded. I moved my hands away. "Up, girl," I said. I clapped crisply but kept my voice more authoritative than just harsh. She awkwardly got to her feet, holding her wrist.

I gave her a very slight nod of encouragement. "Over here," I said, walking to one of the beige walls. I had a red circle sticker about an inch in diameter. I peeled it off and stuck it to the wall. "Hands on your head, your nose is touching this sticker until I tell you otherwise. Understood?"

The reality of the position, nose to the wall, hands on her head, sunk in. She gave me a sullen look, rubbing her shoulder more than she probably needed. We stared at each other for long moments. She slunk off to the wall. I watched her, annoyed with her brattiness--but also pleased: she was definitely committed to being a little brat. I appreciated that.

I looked long enough to make sure she wasn't instantly testing me by moving her nose or removing her hands from her head. I caught a slight squirm of her shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other. I tracked a little sigh in her shoulders. These weren't for me. She was infuriated at the treatment. I took a quick picture and sent it to her man. I'm sure he'd appreciate it.

Opening my bag, I got out some equipment. A rolled up rubbery mat that, when unfurled used adhisor fields to lock to the carpeted floor. It was fully big enough for Asea to lay on. Then I got out some struts and restraints. The struts spread out like the branches of a Y and locked into the floor. When her wrists and ankles were attached to them, I could spread her wide up to entirely spread-eagled.

I pulled out a bundle of padded material and a small box. The box had a lens in it and an electronic system inside. I put it on the coffee table pointed at her.

"Keep your nose there, Nixli," I reminded her. "And no squirming."

She didn't say anything. I smiled and walked over. She didn't look, but I saw her tense. I hooked my thumbs into her pajama bottoms and pulled them down.

"'Yes, Ms. Thessia," I reminded her, smirking so she could hear it in my voice.

That got a squirm. "Yes, Ms. Thessia," she said through gritted teeth. She was wearing panties under the pajamas. I have a tool that I carry on me. It has a little hook and a cutting system. I hooked the strip on one hip of her panties and pulled it. It sliced through it with ease. I did the other one, and let the severed panties hang. They didn't just fall. They were slightly stuck to her vulva--from moisture, I was pretty sure. I watched her lower cheeks blush and got a squirm as her bottom came into view.

I gave it a pat. "Hold still, Snookums," I said in her ear, settling on that as the 'term of affection for the night." Then I went to their bathroom. The adhisor lock held a plug to the ceiling and a soft fiber cord hung down. I did it over the sit toilet. The bathroom had a squat toilet as well--which Asea ought to be using--and would be after tonight, I decided. But over the open bowl was a good place for the restraint swing to hang. I set it up. Satisfied, I walked back out.

My ward was in position, but the cut panties had fallen into the puddle of her underwear bottoms. I eyed that and had a suspicion: my look at the watcher-feed confirmed it: She'd squirmed and squirmed and finally moved a hand to brush them from her delta. She returned her hand to her head and kept it there. It wasn't pure defiance--just discomfort and she thought she could get away with it.

I walked up behind her, and cupped her buttock with my hand.

"Did Snookums hold her position while Ms. Thessia was away?" I asked, giving the fleshy curve a little rub."

"Yes, Miss," she said, a little hoarsely. There was certainly tension in her voice--but my antlers are quite sensitive to vibrations and I could hear nothing that sounded like deception. She was just not counting brushing away the panties as breaking position. I gave the buttock a pat.

"Good girl, then," I said sweetly. "Okay! We have our first activity ready!"

I could hear the uggh in her voice.

"Over here," I said, with the suggestion of shared excitement. She turned and saw the mat with two Y-arm restraints at ankle level and shoulder level. She balked, internally--but, of course, she knew better than to really resist. Her shoulder and wrist were still sore from her outburst.

"Get down and I'll strap you in," I told her. She glowered as she got down and then as slowly as she thought she could get away with, she slid into position. She laid face up and I took one ankle and strapped it to the strut. The strut looked like thin white metal, but on contact, she could feel a rubber coated ceramic surface and far from being wobbly, it was immovable. The cuff was thick soft fabric. I fastened it snugly and then did her other ankle. I was being careful and moving slow. Now her legs were slightly bent, feet up in the air and more than a yard apart. Her sex was exposed.

I shifted over and took one wrist--then the sore one and affixed them. On her back, arms and legs up, she looked a little ridiculous, which was just fine. She was also very secured in. I wasn't quite finished though. There was a belly strap that I fasted over her midriff about 2 and a half inches of padded material just under her belly button. That strap was moored to the rubber pad so it might as well have been held by bolts sunk into the cement.

"Snug?" I asked her.

"Y-yes," she said--then, in the silence, "Yes, Ms. Thessia."

I gave her a bright smile and nodded.

I slid over to her head so I could look down into her eyes. I brushed some hair back.

"Okay--we're going to do a few activities, like I said." I smirked. "It was very bad of snookums to try to wrestle with Ms. Thessia," I said I wasn't surprised by her 'oh, shit' look. "So Snookums is getting a full domestic demerit for that. Our sitting won't apply to it."

"Oh! Ms. Thessia! Please--I didn't--"

The front hall Chore-Board pinged as I added the demerit. That could be several more days of thorough punishment or weeks of lower grade punishments and humiliations. She gasped wetly. I reached back, putting a palm on her stomach and jiggling it lightly.

"We also broke position to brush our panties away from our wet twat, didn't we, snookums?"

Another 'ping' from the Chore-Board. She yelped in distress.

"Mistress," she begged. I smiled at her, catlike, and playfully traced a finger down the bridge of her nose to the tip.

"Does snookums think she doesn't deserve those demerits?" I asked coyly.

This was one of the disciplinarian cat-and-mouse games I was fond of. My antlers have sensitive sensors in them that could read her nearly panicked dismay at having two full domestic demerits assigned. Over a month of punishment, likely! But being asked.

"Maybe Ms. Thessia made a mistake in giving snookums those demerits?" I asked.

I let it hang, this wasn't rhetorical.

I watched her in desperate emotional distress--but there was only one way out.

"N-no, Mistress," she said thickly. "Asea--snookums--" she said the word like it tasted like shit. Good! "S-snookums deserves the demerits." Her voice was sullen and leaden. It was the sound maternal defeat--she'd just been subjugated and had her nose rubbed in it.

Get used to it, snookums, I thought with pleasure. I bent over and gave her a lengthy, invasive kiss on the mouth. She opened forme and didn't try to reject my tongue. I doubt she was in the headspace to enjoy it at all--but for some of my regulars, such shows of affection were the absolute highlight of my visit.