Really missed my morning spankings this week as Master has been poorly, even had 3 days off work, then he was away Thurs, Fri with work. Asking to see my bottom he said, oh a beautifully unmarked bottom, but certainly needs marking now.
Giving me a choice of paddle or crop, I picked the paddle. And boy forgot how painful it was, but now I'm back to a beautiful sore bruised bum and I love this feeling so much.
I have an amazingly awesome and sweet boyfriend ... who is VERY vanilla ... he feels bad if I'm a bit sore after we've had sex. how do I help him not feel guilty??? HE really does TRY but he just doesn't like inflicting pain. I've had online D/s relationships and even an in person Spanker in the past. I won't go to someone else to spank me or be directed by someone either. I want/NEED HIM to take me in hand .... any tips or suggestions is greatly appreciated!!!!
Thinking of expanding on these characters, more stories to tell with them...
Fingerpainting Part 1
Sami was delighted one Saturday afternoon when her Daddy brought home a big tablet of paper and a new kit of colorful finger-paints. Samantha, who was a thirty-two year old successful business woman, would never even have considered sticking her manicured nails into the gooey paints. But Sami was quite a different story.
David grinned as he watched his Sami - his wife of ten years, his "little girl" of the past three - putting out the paints he'd bought her. He would probably never understand what made his fiercely independent and strong willed wife crave her little girl moments. Maybe it was her strength and independence, day in and day out, that she just had to find a break from from time to time. He didn't really care what the reasons were. David had always been a caretaker, something he didn't get to practice much with Samantha. But with Sami, he got to play the Daddy role all he liked. It was a break from the real world for the both of them.
"Here, pumpkin, let's put some newspaper down on the table before you get started." David spread the newspaper over the table top as Sami fidgeted impatiently beside him. "Okay, all set."
She surprised him when, instead of launching herself at the paints, she jumped into his arms instead and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you, Daddy! You're the bestest daddy in the whole wide world!"
David smiled into the soft head of hair pressed against his neck. She smelled like baby powder and he felt himself growing hard as she wiggled her sexy little woman's body against him. She was wearing one of the outfits he'd given her for her Sami days: short red tee shirt with the word "Princess" in sparkling letters and a short denim skirt with lace trim along the hem. Her long red hair was pulled back into two pigtails and her bare toes and normally manicured fingernails were unpainted and unadorned.
He gave her skirted bottom a playful swat that brought a mischievous grin to Sami's face and another hard tug to his nether regions. She flitted away from him and occupied herself with making a mess at the table.
"Daddy, aren't you gonna paint too?" she pouted a few minutes later, looking up to see him starting downstairs to the basement with a hamper full of dirty laundry.
"No, baby. You paint me a nice picture, though, okay?"
"Okay!" She giggled and swung her feet from the chair as Daddy disappeared below stairs. One of the best things about being a little girl was not having to do laundry!
Sami worked on her painting for over an hour. Daddy came back upstairs and read the paper in on the couch, watching his little girl from time to time. She sure was cute in that get up, with more paint gathering on her face and arms by the moment, and her little nose all screwed up as she concentrated.
He was glad the finger paints were washable. He'd bet Sami had as much paint on herself as she did on her picture.
He saw her when she sat back and looked over the painting one last, critical time. Then, her face lit with a hundred watt grin and she called, "Daddy! I'm all done my piture! Here..."
"Wait right there, little lady," David said, stopping her just in time before she charged onto the cream colored livingroom carpet with her still wet painting. He pointed her back to the table where she waited impatiently for him to join her.
She grinned up at him the whole time as he looked over her shoulder and gasped at the picture she'd painted. There were two stick figures, one in red and one in blue. The red one had long waves of orange hair as well as two very large circles that were obviously intended as breasts, while the blue figure sported a rather impressive shaft that shot straight up in the air.
"Sami, what a naughty picture you've drawn!" David scolded, barely managing not to grin back at the little imp who was still so shamelessly smiling up at him. "Wherever did you see a naked man before?"
"Nation'l Geographic," she answered proudly.
At this he did laugh, which only gave Sami more reason to fidget proudly and grin all the broader. David schooled his features back into his stern Daddy face and frowned at her.
"Nice little girls do not draw pictures of naked people, Sami," he scolded. The sound of the dryer buzzer in the basement carried up the stairs. "Now, why don't you see if you can draw a NICE picture for Daddy, okay?"
"Okay, Daddy!"Sami watched her Daddy disappear down the basement steps again and looked back at her picture. She didn't see what was so bad about it, really.
She sat back at the table and tried to think of something NICE to draw for Daddy; while she thought she stared at the blank white wall across from her. Samantha was always telling David they should get a picture for that bare wall. In fact she had a specific painting from the local artisan's gallery that she especially wanted just for that spot, but David had said it was simply too expensive. As she looked at the stark white of the wall, she thought of how Daddy didn't like her bare people in the picture. And she suddenly got an idea. She giggled.
It was awfully quiet, David thought, as he folded the last of the clean clothes and carried the laundry basket upstairs. He had friends who joked about how anytime their kids got really quiet, trouble had to be brewing. He wondered if the same rule applied to his thirty-two year old "kid." And he wondered what his friends would say if they saw him and Samantha playing Daddy/little girl games.
He set the basket down near the top of the stairs and went to look in on Sami. He found her in the dining room, still busy finger-painting - except this time her canvas was the large, blank white wall across from where she'd been sitting before.
"Sami!" he erupted, staring at her in disbelief, hands on his hips. He sputtered for a moment, having no words to express his surprise.
Sami beamed over one shoulder and stepped back from her mural, arms spread wide in presentation. She'd drawn a large red heart on the wall, and printed in her Sami letters, "Sami luvs Dady." There were flowers and butterflies added as well.
"How's this Daddy? See, I drew you a NICE piture!"
Recovering some, David reminded himself that the paints were washable. "Yes, it's a nice picture, honey, but it's on the wall. You know better than to draw on the wall, Sami!"
Sami's lower lip trembled. "I just wanted everybody to see it!" Her eyes narrowed and she stamped one foot. " 'Sides, the wall was BARE - just like the people in my other piture, and you didn't like them bein' bare, so I thought you'd like the wall better if it wasn't bare!"
David studied her thoughtfully a moment. "That's some logic there, Sami," he said finally. "But you still know better than to draw on walls. You're going to clean all that paint off right now. And then you're going to go up to your room for a good spanking and a long nap!"
"No!" Sami shouted. David's eyebrows shot up and he stared at her, dumbfounded. Boy, she was really asking for it today. "I like my piture! And why can't it stay on the wall? You won't let me buy the other painting I want, so I'm keeping this one!"
So, that's what was behind this, huh? Samantha was breaking the rules of the game here. The realities of Samantha's adult world were not supposed to cross over into Sami's activities. What she was doing seemed to dawn on her as David stood there, just staring hotly at her. Finally, he sighed.
"You have two choices, Samantha," he said. "You clean off this wall like you're told, you go upstairs and get your spanking and take a nap. Or, you can keep your little tantrum up, I'll spank you down here, THEN you'll clean off the wall, and you'll go upstairs for a good licking with my belt. Choose."
Oh boy. Samantha swallowed hard. 'Sami' was suddenly gone from his vocabulary, and he'd threatened her with a belt licking - he only spanked Sami, he never used his belt. She'd crossed the line here and he apparently was going to remind her of the parameters of their play.
"Look at me," he requested, his voice all authority but still calm and soft. She forced herself to meet his hard eyes. Suddenly his gaze softened. "Are you going to be my good little girl, or not?"
She nodded. Her throat was thick with emotion. He was giving her a second chance.
She went into the kitchen and returned with a sponge and soapy water. It took a while to clean the wall, and David sat behind her and watched her work. He was silent and Samantha wondered what he was thinking.
When she finally finished cleaning, she returned to the kitchen and washed her hands, arms and face. David was putting the finger-paints back in their box and she tried not to pout; she doubted she'd be seeing those again any time soon.
"I want you upstairs, nose in the corner, Sami," he said, not even looking up at her. "I'll be up directly."
Sami trudged up the stairs and placed herself where David had instructed. She felt so bad, and it was strange because their Sami/Daddy times almost always ended with a spanking. This time was different though because she'd used their scene to get a little revenge on David for something outside the Sami/Daddy world. It hadn't been fair. He never punished Sami for things Samantha did.
When David came into the room, he paused to run one hand over her head. "There's my good girl."
She sniffled and blinked back tears. She didn't feel like his good girl, not the least little bit.
She heard the springs in the bed when he sat down. "Come on over here, Sami."
She practically tripped over her feet as she flew to his side and she hugged him fiercely. "I'm sorry... I..."
"Shh, baby." David hugged her back. He knew she'd realized her mistake and felt badly about it. "Shh, honey, Daddy's gonna make it all better. Okay? You trust Daddy to do that for you?"
Without a moment's hesitation, she nodded.
"Okay, then. Up you go." Sami stood before David and watched quietly as he unbuttoned her skirt, then pushed it off her hips, followed by her white cotton panties. She stepped out of the puddle of clothes and obeyed his instruction to lay over his knees.
"I think my little girl got a bit too big for her britches today," he commented as he surveyed the full, rounded bottom of the woman he had married. "So, this is going to be a long, hard lesson for you, Sami. So next time, you'll remember that you are Daddy's little girl."
His large hand fell to her backside with a loud CRACK! and Sami jumped. He was spanking so hard, no little warm ups or playful love taps. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to accept his punishment, knowing afterwards that her mistake would be forgiven and forgotten.
David gave Sami a thorough hand spanking until her backside was an overall hot cherry red. She'd been stoic at first but hadn't been able to stop her gasps and jerks after she'd been over his lap for ten minutes. He spanked on at least another five minutes, then only stopped because his hand hurt so badly.
He hadn't said anything since he'd started spanking her but now he broke that silence. "Sami, go and get your paddle for Daddy."
She leaned back and looked at him and he could see that she wanted to protest. Any other time she would have. The paddle was for punishment and Sami's spankings were usually only for play, done with his hand alone. He met her eyes squarely and waited. Slowly, she got to her feet and walked into the closet to get her paddle from its shelf.
She returned to him a minute later and handed him the long maple paddle that he'd had made especially for her. Her full name was on the back of it, along with the date of their wedding.
David held Sami's chin up so she couldn't look away from him. "Daddy's going to paddle you now, Sami. I want you to remember that Daddy loves you very much. Next time you should remember this paddling and remember to be my good little girl. Because our times together should be fun. Not like this. Okay?"
She nodded. He sensed she would have agreed to anything so she could just be forgiven. He'd already forgiven her, of course, though he knew her well enough to realize she needed this to forgive herself.
She climbed over his lap again and David looked down at her already very red behind. He could see his own fingerprints there. "Your bottom's a finger-painting all of its own," he commented and his heart felt lighter when he heard her giggle from below.
He started paddling, eager now to finish this up. The paddle was long enough to cover both of Sami's cheeks in one swing and she was soon squealing and crying out with each swat.
"Whose little girl are you?" SMACK!
"Yours, Daddy! Ow, Ohh!"
"Are you going to remember that next time?" The paddle continued its loud report across her fanny.
"Oh! Yes, Daddy, I promise I will! Ouch! Ooowwie!"
"No more manipulating Daddy?" SSMMAACK! "No more trying to get even?"
"No! I promise!"
Now he allowed the paddle to do all of his talking for him, Sami dancing and jumping on his lap, trying to avoid his aim while at the same time fighting to be his good girl and submit to his punishment.
"Oh! Daddy! Owwww! Please! Stop! I'll be a good girl!"
David stopped. The paddle fell to the floor. "You better be good," he growled.
Samantha flopped over on her husband's thighs, screeching when her bottom met his denim covered legs. David chuckled and helped her move so she was on her hip. He cradled her in his arms and rubbed her hot, spanked cheeks.
"I love you, Samantha Marie." He kissed her forehead.
"I love you too, David. Thank you."
David cradled his wife until she fell into an awkward sleep. She'd had a busy day and an exhausting session over his lap so he wasn't surprised when he looked down to see her eyes closed. He laid her as gently as he could on the bed and covered her with a blanket. He was about to go back downstairs to turn on the game, when he looked back at her. Sleep sounded pretty good to him right then, too. So he joined her on the bed, and cuddled her against him, loving the feel of her breath as it fell against his neck. He sighed and closed his eyes. Being the Daddy in this house could be a very tiring job.
If you liked this story, you can find others on Amazon thru Blushing Books under the pen name Jodi Bella :)
Lay me down tie me up talk to me about how u want me to be show me how u want me to be. Teach me. Punish me make M me learn... Teach me to obey I give myself to u fully. No questions no saying no... Just. Release myself too u serve you. Love you honor you. Kneel for u. Beg for u to make k e the best sub I can be...this Sir*Dear Sir I beg of you.... Let me show you how good I can be. . Kneels before you....
This was the first short story I ever wrote and posted online, back in the sss newsgroup days. Thank you to everyone who has been supportive of my books being released thru Blushing Books and on Amazon (under pen name Jodi Bella)!
THE PRACTICAL JOKE
It's hard not to giggle as he steps out of his shower into the bedroom to dress for the dinner party. I quickly slip past him into my own shower where I allow myself a silent laugh.
Knowing that it won't take him long to make the discovery, I make my shower short. I'm just stepping into the bedroom, wrapped in a bath sheet, as he booms my name-- first, middle, and last, a sure sign I'm in trouble -- from the closet.
"Yes, dear?" I call sweetly. Okay, maybe the 'dear' is a bit much.
My handsome fiance appears at the door of the walk-in closet in his terry cloth bathrobe, his hands on his lean hips. His blue eyes narrow on me.
"What did you do with my underwear?"
"Your underwear?" I play dumb, as I walk over to him and peek past him to the open, empty drawer where he keeps his boxers.
"Yes, Miss. Innocent, my underwear. And don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about! I had a full drawer this morning, now it's empty, and I can't find any of them!"
I bat my eyelashes at him and pout a little, acting hurt by his accusations. "Honestly, honey, I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Mmm-hmmm." His hand falls from his hip to grab my waist and before I can blink, he has me face down over his lap. He yanks the bath sheet up to my waist and lands a loud smack to my bare bottom.
"Maybe this will help you remember," he says, adding more spanks to the first. My bottom is quickly warming up from his attention, and it feels wonderful. I play dumb still, not wanting him to stop yet.
"I don't know what happened to your damn underwear!" Ouch - that 'damn' got me a really hard swat. "Ouhhh! Ouch! Your meanie!"
"We have guests due to arrive in fifteen minutes, little girl. I suggest you tell me where you hid my boxers so we can both get dressed before they show up. Or maybe you'd like me to continue your spanking for their enjoyment...?"
"You wouldn't!" I am both excited and appalled at the idea.
"Try me." Each word is ground out and accompanied by an especially smart slap.
"Okay, okay!" I relent, reluctantly. "I confess! It was me! I hid your underwear! It was just a practical joke...."
He has let me up from his lap and now holds me between his legs. "Well, your little joke just earned you another session over my lap at bedtime tonight. You definitely need to learn some respect for other people's belongings." His hand moves from my hips to caress my breasts, now bare since the bath sheet has come undone and fallen away. "For instance, these are yours. See how I respect them?" His thumbs gently flick over the hard nipples and he bends his head to suckle one tip.
By this time, what with the anticipation all day of waiting for my surprise to be discovered, my newly warmed bottom, and this new attention, I am nearly crazy with wanting him. I can see through his robe that he is aroused as well. I reach one hand out to touch him, but he grabs my hand and pulls it back.
His eyes are knowing and his smile is wicked. He knows exactly what he is doing to me. The only comfort is that he is obviously in a state of painful arousal as well. "No time for that now, little one. Guests due in ten minutes. Now, where are my boxers?"
Grumpily, I kneel to pull the bag of underwear from its hiding place under the bed. He gives me a stinging swat that sends me towards the closet and I reluctantly go inside to choose clothes for the dinner party I am suddenly wishing I could cancel.
His voice carries in to me as I pull my underwear drawer open. "NO panties. Hear me?"
An entirely new wave of arousal washes over me. Not only am I going to have to wait all night long, with a red hot bottom, for another delicious spanking and then finally the sex I want, but I'm going to have to do it without panties on as well. I don't know how I'll survive the anticipation.
"I hear you," I grumble.
His laugh carries into the closet. In the distance, the doorbell chimes. "I'll go greet our guests," he calls.
I can hear the conversation and laughter downstairs from the landing outside our bedroom and I pause to compose myself. My panty-less bottom feels like a neon sign through my dress. I'm sure that everyone will know I'm not wearing any underwear.
I am still gathering my courage, eyes closed, and counting to ten, when he appears at the bottom of the stairs, a teasing grin on his handsome face. He climbs the stairs and takes hold of my hands, one in each of his.
"You're very pretty," he says, still grinning that obnoxious grin. "Let's see, did you obey me?" He turns me around and lifts the full skirt of my dress. His chuckle makes me want to turn around and smack him in the face, even as my sex twitches when he gives my bottom a possessive pat. "Good girl. Come on, sweetheart, we're just waiting for you."
I face him again, take his hand and descend the stairs, forcing a smile on my face, and mentally preparing myself for a long evening.
i wanna say ty to all for ur comments on my blog n in my messages... as I said.. i cant say what is goin on as its not my place but it IS over n I'm ok with it.... i had said somethin to him before that if somethin along this line ( of what took place) happened i would back off n get lost n not look back because it is the proper thing to do.......i did not have to call it off because he handled that.... i see he still hasn't deleted his profile yet as he said he was goin to so if u see this Poppy.........know i DO understand n i wish u the best *tight hugs*
Well today turned out to be a total shit day. Ive had my car for about a year and a half and within the last 9months it's been hit twice!!! Today I was side swiped by someone who tried passing me on the right hand side on a one lane rd. I'm probably going to have to get my entire passenger side door panel and fender replaced and I am so frustrated! Last time I was hit my whole back fender and bumper had to be taken off buffed out painted and put back. It took eleven days to fix and was a major pain in the ass, and not the way I like. Thankfully no one else was in the car with me and everything still operates its just mostly cosmetic. When speaking with my husband he was not upset just happy everyone was alright and of course that it was not my fault. However in the process of me calling our insurance company and completing all the formalities I spent a few times on the phone with him and was particularly short tempered. Once or twice I found myself raising my voice with him and telling him he wasn't being very sympathetic to my situation. Needless to say he wasn't too pleased that I was taking my stress out on him so he calmly said that I would not receive a punishment spanking this evening as he doesn't feel I did anything wrong other than taking some of my stress out on him. He understands and feels that I have every right to be upset but thinks I need a better outlet therefore I should expect to receive a spanking tonight after he gets home. He stated that it wont be as severe as our normal punishment spankings but severe enough to help me deal with the stress of today, but definitely not a play spanking. I am actually looking forward to it because it is much needed and he doesn't deserve to be my target of emotional instability at this time. After all he didn't hit my car.
I guess it's time to show a few of my "kinks" that my Wife and I so enjoy. Here's a set of spanking photos in which she first tied me to bed. It's 1 of my 2 favorite positions! I love OTK, being held tight and locked down, and I love being tied down. I enjoy bondage, for both spankings and any kind of sex.
If you haven't guessed yet, when my Wife and I "play" around... She's the Dom. and loves it! I'm the Sub. and I love it! I'm thinking of just posting a little set of us being kinky and messing around, probably not a lot of spanking stuff though. Thoughts and comments always welcome!
Tonight's recipe: Pesto Trapanese with shrimp.
My poor darling wife. You’ve had a bad day. Someone dented your car door in the parking lot. Boss barked at you. You had to skip lunch because of that fucking asshole boss … it was his screw-up, not yours. You really got fucked on that one. Men can be such dicks. You need something good in your belly.
You walk in the front door, grumbling. Slam it shut behind you. I bounce in, smiling. "How was your day, Hon?" I say, stupidly. Look! You plop down a shopping bag. Looks like it's from Victoria's Secrete...all pink and frilly! Oh Boy!
You are an Amazon. That’s what attracted me to you in the first place. You clump upstairs to take a shower. You look hungry … I better start cooking! That should cheer you up!
I know...comfort food. I've got a good recipe I can whip up fast. Pesto Trapanese, and I'll add some shrimp. I have to use good olive oil...not the shit you get at Costco. Something with a nutty taste. I run to the pantry.
I hear the shower turn on. Thank god….maybe that will calm you down. When you are in this mood, you are so …. what’s the right word? Primal? Huntress? Amazon? But we usually have really good sex when you are in this mood, so there’s that! I can put up a little crankiness.
I put garlic (not too much), walnuts and black pepper in a Cuisinart with a little olive oil and salt. Grind it down to a paste. A delicious, heavenly paste that you could eat with a spoon. Think "the best fucking nut butter you've ever put into your mouth".
Add a big clump of basil, Italian parsley and big hand full of spinach into the blender with about a cup of oil and salt. Blend until it has the consistency of thick cream. Add some canned tomatoes, tops cut off. Blend some more. Touch of lemon.
You come downstairs in your robe. Do I see a glimpse of dark panties? Cool, maybe I’m gettin’ some tonight. Maybe a good old-fashioned schtupping will help relax you later! Maybe your bad day at work will work out in my favor…go ahead, my lovely Amazon, release a little tension giving your boyfriend a long, sloppy blow job, then ride his dick like a bucking bronco! I like it when you’re on top, head thrown back!
Here, baby….try it. Isn’t that fucking good? Has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a great ass?
You snarl. God, men can be such dicks. You’re starving. What’s up with the chit chat, you’d like to know?
Ooh Ooh. Add quite a bit of Romano Pecorino cheese....like a freaking cup. Have you tried it? Salty goat cheese. Better in cooking than Parmesan. Can you say "umami"? … reminds me of the taste of your cunt when you are sitting on my face. I order mine online from Murray’s. OK, I don't want to be cocky, but your nipples will be hard once you taste this.
Cocky? You say. Ha Ha, I say.
Once nipples are hard...Pesto is done! And my nipples are hard, thinking about that blow job! And you sitting on my face.
OK, baby... the shrimp. I'm going for crispy on the outside, but not overcooked (she hates overcooked shrimp). Lay shrimp out, make sure they are dry. Salt them. Heat a cast-iron pan up smoking hot. Lay the shrimp in the pan...no oil. A few red Chile flakes. Shrimpies are gonna get crispy on the outside, pop in the pan, salty little shrimp crisps.
That should make my Amazon Princess happy! God, you’ve got a great ass!
Squirt a little lemon on the shrimp. Done! Yup, you heard me … I said "squirt"...I bet you do, once you try this, baby!
Oh, I’m sure I’ll be squirting tonight, you say. Men can be such dicks. What does that mean?
Start the pasta. Grandma always said: “only cook pasta in water that’s as salty as seawater.” Have you ever had bocatini? Prefer linguini? Or, I can use penne...better to save the bocatini for the seafood red sauce you're getting next time.
You drain your glass of wine. Wipe your lips. Belch (!?). Pour another. This looks bad. Maybe I’m not getting a blow job. You look ... I'm not sure ... what is that look? Hungry? Close, but not quite....
Drain the pasta, leave a bit of the water. Add some of the pesto sauce. Add some defrosted frozen peas...let them cook in the heat of the pasta. Why are peas the only frozen vegetable I can stand? Why do the peas suddenly look like nipples to me? Must be that robe you are wearing. I love it when the nipples peak out just a little like that. Sexiest piece of clothing ever. And damn....you do have nice....
But wait. Those aren’t panties. What is that you’re wearing? Are those metal clips? Cool…maybe we’re doing sexy kinky underwear tonight! I saw that bag you brought in! I love banging you doggy-style when you’re wearing garters. Who needs a blow job! But…those don’t look like garters ……!!
OK, where was I? Grate some more cheese on top. Lay the shrimp on top. Put a large dab of the pesto off to the side, so you can add it as you like.
I'm thinking a nice green salad on the side...simple, with tomato, basalmic, and a dab of the pesto on top. Like a nipple. Why did I just think of nipples again?? I do love me some doggy-style! My balls slapping against your ass….
You eat like a hungry tiger, smacking your lips and showing teeth. Predatory. Hunter. I love watching you eat, especially when you’re starving. Your keep your eyes locked onto mine, the whole time you are munching. Is that a smile, a smirk, or what? Wiping your mouth with the back of your wrist.
You burp. Done, you say. Not bad. I start the dishes. You get up, walk up behind me. Reach around my chest. Fingers around my nipples. Is that a BULGE under your robe? WTF? Your panties in a bunch? I ask. Mistake!
The shrimp were overcooked, you whisper in my ear. Biting the lobe.
What! No frickin’ way! I cooked those mother fuckers perfectly.
Men can be such dicks. But can they take one? You ask.
You turn me around. Your tremendous boobs pop right out of that robe. You push me forward onto the butcher block. Hand on the back of my neck. Lift my ass up by the belt. Kick the stepstool under my feet. Down come the pants. Hand on the small of my back.
You grab that large wooden spoon I use to stir big pots of Bolognese sauce. More than 12 inches long, picked it up during my trip to Argentina, it is made out of one of the hardest woods on earth, Palo Santo. That means “Holy Stick”. Why do I keep that thing so close to the butcher block?
You give me 5 hard WHACKS! on each butt cheek, arm swinging high. Blistered immediately. My legs are quivering.
Are you tamed? You ask.
I say (idiotically): What do you mean? WTF is going on? That hurt like shit! Let me up!
Why do I keep that small wooden cutting board I use for serving salami and cheese so close to the butcher block?
Small for a cutting board, but a mighty big paddle!
You stand next to me, to my left. You put your left leg under my belly….my balls are on your knee. Give it a little rub. 7 swats, each cheek. Arm held high, down with a loud “THUD”. Each right on top of the blisters. Each lift me up on my toes on the stepstool. You explain to me with each swat: What. Do. I. Mean? This. Is. What. I. Mean. Do. No. Make. Me. Ask Again!
Are you tamed? You ask.
(Between you and me, for a brief moment, I thought about saying “no” in a quiet little voice……then changed my mind …..)
Yes! I’m tamed! Sorry about the shrimp! Sorry, sorry, sorry………never happen again (I’m hopping up and down, balls banging on your thigh).
You pat my ass. STAY THERE! You stroll back and forth, pacing. Anticipating. Come up behind me. Grab both blistered ass cheeks.
Hey! What’s going on? What is that thing? What’s that “vibrating” noise? Hey! We’ve talked about this…I’m still a virgin down there. Whaddya mean, “pop my tight little butt cherry”? Do to me what your boss did to you? Geez…was that the biggest one in the store??? Why does it have balls????? They can’t possibly serve a purpose! How about some lube? Don’t wanna bother getting it from upstairs? The olive oil’s right there! Just use the cheap Costco shit. Tabasco? No, I’m fine, no lube, thanks! I said I’m fine, thanks! Whaddaya mean your boss didn’t use any lube? Take a deep breath? Wa …. Uuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnn … nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn……
Relax, you say…. relax ....... release……………..I do
How does the star rating work, can anyone vote as long as they are members or is just your friends?
Just a bit perplexed as to why I would have such a low rating especially when I look at some other content, could it be as a result of refusing friendships I wonder ??
After lecturing, punishing and pleasuring, Samantha, Mr. Stern drove her home. Not that anyone was there, but he dropped her off, up the block from her house, but it did beat the bus. She went into the dark house. She was hungry and opened the fridge - Slim pickings... An assortment of condiments, some coffee creamer, a half a head of wilted lettuce, a few stale bagels and the same take out box, that was there a week ago. There was a note from her Mom, saying she was working until 10pm and then, meeting her friends out.
Samantha couldn't get the conversation out of her head. She was legally obligated, to repay the tuition for the four semesters (she failed to maintain a B average) or become an unpaid intern.
How did she forget that?! Now, she finds out Mr. King was her sponsor. He was a huge man, built like a lumberjack. He was a serious sort of man. Janie had told her about a few of her punishments. She was, really, a little scared of what he might have in store for her. Mr. Stern had told her he'd been in touch. She checked her phone.
Oh my God!! He was taking her to the King estate next Sunday. What could she say to him?! She's better think of something! Maybe she could blame her home life. What home life?? Exactly! She felt a little better. People usually felt sorry for her. She was good at playing the victim. It was all bull, of course, she did what she wanted and she wouldn't have done any better, if her Mother was home. She passed, didn't she?! Why did they even care how she did? Janie was so trained, just like a puppy! She'd never lie, not to her precious Daddy! Samantha was an expert at tweaking the truth. She would charm Mr. King. It would be alright, she thought. Anyways, Mr. Stern had punished her enough for all of it. She'd tell Mr. King that, if she had to!!
Feeling better, she decided to go out.
She had shoplifted the stockings and garters, last week, without a hitch. She wanted a new outfit to wear on her visit to Mr. King. She'd get something sexy, short and low cut. He would love her!! She changed into baggy jeans and a big sweatshirt. She took her mother's coat. She could hide clothes under the sweatshirt and jeans. The big pockets of the coat were perfect for makeup and jewelry. She had a little money, she could buy something small, to throw the sales people off & still have money for a snack.... Thanks to her stipend, she thought, laughing! Maybe Mr. King would pay her, for interning. She wouldn't mind playing with him. She had a good body and she was pretty enough. Yes, everything would work out, she thought with a smile. She found a little money on her Mom's dresser and tucked it in her purse. Leave it and lose it!! Her Mother never called her out, on it. She didn't want to fight and Samantha would never admit to it.
Samantha went into a very nice boutique. They had private dressing rooms and usually only one girl working, at night. She found a great black skirt and midriff top. She had a stack of clothes on her arm, she added them, but left the hangers buried in the rack. That's how you get caught she thought. They found empty hangers in the dressing room. She was sly.
She waited until the girl was helping a customer and then went into the dressing room. She tried on the black skirt. It was perfect! Shortish and pleated, it resembled her uniform, only hotter. The top was a loose knit that you could see through. She had a pretty black bra to wear under it. It showed her belly button piercing. It scooped low. It looked like it laced up, with a satin ribbon, but it was just decorative. It looked like lingerie, almost. She was happy to find just the right look. Mr. King's eyes would pop when he got a load of her! She wasn't a girl anymore. She was a woman. I bet he knew how to make a woman come, she thought. His white was away. If he slept with her, she could threaten to tell his wife. She had no intention of working for free. If he was nice to her, though, she might stick around.
Maybe he'd take it in business trips... Ask over the world! She'd take his arm. She imagined how jealous her friends would be. She'd have to keep it from Janie of course. This would all work out. She aired her Mr. Stern but she had to fix this problem with Mr. King. Now, HE had real money!!
She left the dressing area, her jeans and sweatshirt, covering up the black outfit. She handed the other clothes to the girl. "No, nothing was right for my interview, she told her."
She picked up a cheap pair of earrings on a clearance rack and placed them in the counter. As the girl turned, she grabbed a very pretty ring, from a display on the counter and dropped it into her pocket. She paid for the earrings and left. She was looking up the street for someplace to eat. A hand grabbed her shoulder and another her arm. "Store security, you'll have to cut with me until an officer arrives."
"No, no, no, let go of me!" This wasn't happening. How could they know... The ring!!! It was an impulsive thing taking it in plain sight.
"What do you mean? Oh my gosh, the ring!! I forgot I tried it on. She pushed it in her finger in her pocket. Here, take it or I'll pay for it", hoping she had enough!
"I'm sorry Miss, I've already made the call. You can explain to them. He led her through the store to the back."
"I'm a minor, you know. I'll say you grabbed me." He pointed to the cameras. Everything was being recorded. She wasn't a minor anymore, but it was with a try. What was she going to do? Her Mother had no money. She barely made the bills.
It was nearly midnight. Stern finished another evaluation. He was calling it a night. The phone rang. "What, the devil?"
He looked at the caller ID. "Samantha? How dare she!" He answered and heard a hysterical Samantha crying, she'd been arrested for stealing from La Femme Boutique. She wanted him to help. She was being arraigned in the morning. Would he come out get her a lawyer?
He told her he'd do what he could.
She had a lawyer alright... Mr. King. Oh he'd have to notify him. Ironically, he was part owner of that boutique, or rather it was one of his wife's old projects. He was still an owner, though someone else ran it. Stern sent a carefully worded text message to David King, explaining the circumstances of Samantha's arrest. He didn't dare call him at midnight. David could call him, if he was still up.
The Dragon King was working late. He had a meeting in town. He'd be leaving the Lakehouse early, to head home. Janie would remain. He was quite sure he'd left her with a sore enough bottom, to keep her out of trouble, at least for a few days. He'd raised a few blisters, with that whipping and he didn't regret it.
He tucked her in, with some cool cream, and examined her bottom. He'd given her a good tanning. Her fanny and legs were severely punished. He'd been too soft on her, in the past. He wasn't playing, anymore. If he had to, he'd whip her ass, every time, he came to the Lakehouse. He'd have Evan whip her, while he was gone. She wasn't going to behave that way, under his roof, by God If she wanted him to send her to college, she'd straighten up, or she'd be at home another year. There was a big trust fund set up, but it wasn't hers, until he said it was hers. It was revocable...his to give and his to take away. She wouldn't be foolish enough to walk away from it and he wasn't going to give her a cent, until she did what he wanted.
He heard the message come in. Who was texting so late? He read the message, and he was furious. Now she was robbing him?
He texted back." Leave her in jail. I'm coming to town in the morning. I can drop the charge and get her out. I'll call the judge in the morning, but they'll hold her, until I sign for her. Call Samantha's mother and tell her she has gotten herself into some trouble, or leave a message. She won't be home for a few days. I'm taking her to the estate. I can't believe this little ungrateful snipe. It's high time, I put the fear of God into her. "
for the record.. Poppy n I r no longer an item.......yeah I know... up n down ... its not my place to say why but its not because things weren't good tween us...but I will say its a personal matter on his end...he had told me he had ( but I guess hadn't yet) deleted his profile here......this information wont effect anyone here but I just wanted to let yas know...
My new cage has arrived today. Box looks very big, hope its something we can pack away and hide without notice.
Wonder what the dogs will think when im stuck inside a cage and theyre sat out looking in. Lol.
I hope master was joking bout drinking and eating outta a bowl tho.
Implement forged in Hell
Bringing fire to my ass
Though hubby wields
The Red Leather Paddle
The Devil's Hand
Return to Hell
Spanked to tears
Again and again
My greatest sin
Both get his belt
The Red Leather Paddle
Disrespect...hubby hates the most
Disrespect...the Devil's Hand loves
Disrespect...so hard to fight
I already forgot!
I tried to hide it
Hubby said get the cable
I quickly found it
Cursing the Devil
He who made it...
Since I destroyed...
The wooden paddle...
Which hurt much less!
As long as hubby spanks
Using The Red Leather Paddle
Forged in the fires below
The flames will rise
My skin will glow...
Hot to the touch
Running and hiding
Screaming and crying
The Devil's Hand
Will always find me!
[I will insert a picture of that horribly painful red paddle eventually...]
Ok maybe a little why u may ask. Hmmmm. Well one cause I can and because it gets Me attention... Most of the time. I have been this way for year's. No braty I doesn't mean disrespectful it's just Being a brat. Big difference. Rolling eyes, arms. Crossed, stomp foot type of stuff. I guess u can say it's mostly a in fun. Unless I am mad or pissed off..ya then my mouth may take over.... Witch is. Not my fault... Honest.....