06/28/2013
My heart raced in my chest as I replayed Daddy's words time and again in my head. "You're not getting off with just a whipping for this Natalie Lynn, you're going to get your ass beat." I know my Dad says what he means and means what he says...always. I clutched the pillow tightly and laid over the pillows, softly sobbing and waiting for my punishment to begin. My bottom & thighs already a sore mess of properly paddled flesh.
"Hold this, young lady." Dad instructed as he laid his thick leather belt onto my hands directly in front of my face. I slowly ran my fingers between the two layers of doubled-over brown leather. I definitely have a love-hate relationship with my father's belt.
Leather itself is an enticing implement material; I love the feel, the smell, the sounds. Wood produces a more thuddy pain, where leather inflicts a sharp sting that radiates. Daddy always wears a belt but the one designated his 'whipping belt' is a formidable implement; it is very thick, heavy, well worn and it bites into my bare skin with a crisp sting that makes me whimper every time he whips me with it. It's effective in it's intensity and also because of the psychological grasp it has on me. I love the belt because it is *his*; it is always available and removed from his waist to deal with me when warranted.....it is quite literally an extension of my father and for that reason, I absolutely adore my Daddy's belt.
Any time Dad says I'm getting a whipping, I know his belt will be the first implement used and it makes me pout as I watch or listen to the distinct jingle of the buckle or it hissing as it's pulled free from its' loops. Watching helplessly as he rolls the sleeve on his left arm slowly, keeping his intense brown eyes locked on mine as I plead with my emerald orbs for leniency. He will tolerate this momentarily, his inner sadist enjoying the desperate look on my face though I know my pouting or pleading will get me nowhere.....still it is a common piece of our non-verbal communication during most punishments. After a few moments, Dad will double the belt over, securing the buckle in the closed palm of his hand and snapping the leather loudly causing my body to jump and my eyes to break our contact as I bury my face in the bed and await my whipping.
I felt the bed dip down as Dad sat beside me while I lay still, my bottom propped up over the pillows awaiting his disciplinary attention, my hands gently running up & down the length of his doubled-over belt, my cheek resting against the cool implement as I inhaled deeply savoring the smell of the leather.
"Ouch!" I squealed as my head shot up to look back over my shoulder at Dad as I felt an intense, abrasive sensation on my freshly paddled bottom.
"Quiet! I will *never* have to repeat this lesson to you Natalie Lynn, so we are going to make sure that this is an effective deterrent. I am going to ensure this is a lesson you will NEVER forget. Got it?" He barked.
"Yes Sir." I whimpered as I lay my face back on the pillow and gritted my teeth as Daddy continued this new, torturous act.
After a moment I realized that the abrasive, rough sensations were Daddy harshly working the brittle bristles of our bathbrush and then his new BBQ/grilling brush across my bottom. I have girlfriends whose Doms will run the bristles of their brushes over their bottoms before a spanking, but prior to this, I'd never experienced this cruel addition to discipline......it hurt. I imagine on my harshly paddled skin that even the softer bristles on my hairbrush would have caused discomfort, but Dad decided to use our bathbrush and then his grill brush.......both very hard, stiff bristles.......particularly that damn grill brush. I squirmed and struggled to stay still as he continued to scratch up my poor bottom.
"Owww. No Daddy pleassseeee!" I whimpered as he turned his attention to my sit spots and continued down my tender thighs.
CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK
"I told you to shut your mouth, little girl, and I won't repeat myself to you again. Clear?" He warned after applying several quick, searing swats of the heavy wooden grill brush to my thighs.
"Yes Sir." I sniffled and replied. I lay quietly as Dad resumed very roughly scrubbing my burning flesh with the brittle bristles. I squeezed his belt in my hands and whimpered at this new, viscous sensation attacking my punished bottom & thighs. After another few horrid moments, the scrubbing subsided, leaving my skin sore and itching as Dad stood up and returned the brushes to the dresser top. A moment later he returned to my side and a warm liquid began to drip onto my sore cheeks and thighs. His strong hands deeply kneaded my skin. I flinched and whimpered but pressed back to meet his touch; relishing in the few moments of firm but gentle massage. After my skin was sufficiently moistened and absolutely burning with tiny abrasions, he rose to his feet again.
"Hand me my belt and ask me whip your ass for what you did." Dad instructed.
I continued to squirm on the bed, reacting to the pain in my poor bottom. I slowly turned to the side, lifting my hand up to offer Daddy his belt and locking my tearing eyes onto his as I softly spoke, "Daddy I'm really sorry. Driving drunk is stupid and dangerous and I know better. Please whip me for that lapse in judgement." My face grew hot as I blushed furiously asking for my whipping. Dad held my gaze a few seconds longer before reaching forward and taking the belt from my hand.
"Now you keep your face in that pillow and stay in position. I want your bottom up high to meet every single stroke because you absolutely deserve this whipping. You can kick and cry all you want but don't you dare wiggle out of position or put your hands back to try to protect your ass. Do you understand me, young lady?" Daddy warned.
"Yes Sir. Daddy I'm so sorry." I meekly sobbed up to him as I repositioned my hips perfectly over the stacked pillows, elevating my poor bottom up higher for his attention.
"You will be, little girl.....you will be." He replied as he snapped the belt and took a step back from the side of the bed.
My stomach knotted at his response and my body jumped at the snapping leather. I tucked my arms underneath my chest so I wouldn't be tempted to reach back to sooth my bottom and I buried my face in my pillow.
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Daddy let loose on my thighs first with his heavy belt. He applied swat after searing swat to the already tender, burning flesh from my incredibly sensitive sit spots down to the backs of my knees and back up again. My body tensed up and I fought the urge to kick my legs as I sobbed into my pillow and tried to accept my punishment with grace.
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Next my bottom came under intense fire. Daddy whipped me fast and furiously. He was definitely putting force behind every single stroke he gave me; as he had said, he was intent on teaching me a lesson I would *never* forget.
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The belt fell to the bed in front of my face as I lay sobbing over the pillows. I could hear Daddy moving around behind me and knew he was retrieving another implement of bratty bottom destruction. Within minutes he was again whipping my burning bottom and thighs.......this time with our heaviest leather strap.
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I twisted from side to side and my sobbing quickly turned to hard crying as that strap bit into my tender flesh. Daddy paced from one side of the bed to the other applying swat after swat in his methodical manner, a second or two between strokes........leaving me helplessly bawling into my pillow, fighting the building urge to shoot my hands back to protect my bottom, my breathing ragged and my heart pounding heavily in my chest.
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I twisted from side to side and my sobbing quickly turned to hard crying as that strap bit into my tender flesh. Daddy paced from one side of the bed to the other applying swat after swat in his methodical manner, a second or two between strokes........leaving me helplessly bawling into my pillow, fighting the building urge to shoot my hands back to protect my bottom, my breathing ragged and my heart pounding heavily in my chest.
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"Daddyyy I'm sorryyyyy." I squealed out as I choked on my constant sobs.
"You will be." He said again as he paced from one side of the bed to the other, leaning in to inspect my bottom and thighs, his strong hand lightly skimming the tight, hot skin.
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My feet beat against the bed as quickly as he strapped me and as hard as he strapped me. I stayed in position, still offering my abused bottom up to meet every searing stroke, my hands securely tucked under my chest.
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The strap fell to the bed next to me, joining the belt. My feet fell still and I lay there draped over the pillows crying and lost in self-lecture.......truly feeling the overwhelming sense of regret, foolishness, shame and guilt for what I had done. I knew Dad was right......I have a family that depends on me and would be devastated if something happened to me. I knew better. How could I have been so careless? So stupid? I felt absolutely horrible in that moment. I wanted to beg my father to whip me all day long......and even that wouldn't have been enough. My mind was drifting in dark thoughts of self chastisement so I didn't hear where Dad was or what he was doing until I felt him next to me again.
The bed dipped as he sat beside me. His strong left hand gently massaging my back as he spoke down to my trembling body.
"I spoke to your brother this morning. You need to apologize to him for putting him through that amount of worry last night. But when we were talking about your ignorant choice and I expressed my absolute disgust & disappointment that you would ever even contemplate doing something this dangerous because you see at work what this kind of stupidity does to people.......your brother said he was equally as dumbfounded by your poor choice, but his reason was more specific and he asked that I bring it up during your punishment. He told me to ask you a question and I assured him I would ask it, so here it is: do you want to end up like Danny?" Dad asked as I cautiously peered up into his dark brown eyes.
I closed my eyes and hung my head, crying into my pillow. That stung and I was again falling mentally into a dark hole of loathing. There was no question in my mind that what I'd done was ignorant but I was seeing right now just how selfish my choice had been. I could see the genuine worry and fear on my Dad's face. I had heard it in my brother's voice the night before. I can't even imagine how heartbroken they'd be if I had hurt myself or worse......and my poor son......I was so angry at myself for not thinking of all of this the night before.......every bit of this should have been in my mind and I *never* would have made the decisions I made.
I was struggling......bad.......and I knew Dad could see that. I didn't have to say anything to him, I didn't have to explain, I didn't have to ask for further punishment.......he knew and he immediately began to meet that need in order to push me past this point so I could forgive myself.
My sore bottom and thighs screaming as he again was applying the brittle bristles of his grill brush to my inflamed skin. The pain quickly brought me back to the present and I struggled to remain still and he roughly scrubbed the burning, tender flesh again and again. He laid the brush beside the belt and strap as he rose to his feet, retrieving the oil from the desktop and applying it liberally to my bottom and thighs as I sobbed into the pillow now damp beneath my face. After kneading the oil into my skin he disappeared across the room to the implement bag again. I simply buried my face in the pillow and waited, ready to welcome any punishment he chose to administer in hopes that the physical pain would help me move past the emotional block of guilt and shame I seemed to be stuck at.
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The extension cord bit into my bottom in a furious blur of searing swats that immediately raised thin angry welts all over my bruised bottom and thighs. The pain was intense and immediate......oil moistening my skin only made the pain more extreme. I stayed in position, my bottom still raised high, welcoming each and every painful swat. I need the release and Daddy was pushing me steadily toward it.
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The cord finally fell to the bed, joining the other implements next to my shaking body as I bawled uncontrollably. Daddy sat next to me and gently massaged a cool lotion into my properly paddled and well whipped bottom and thighs. His touch made me wince in pain but I loved every second of it and moved closer to him, welcoming each gentle caress as I cried. The combination of his tender touch with the intense pain immediately dipped deep into subspace and my entire body began to relax and I laid quietly and contently under his constant care.
After several minutes of rubbing, kneading and firmly massaging my swollen, bruised & welted bottom, sit spots and thighs, Daddy finally stood up and collected the implements from the bed and returned them to the dresser top. I laid quietly watching him as he moved throughout the room, tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I love watching him.....the way he walks, the way he carries himself.....intoxicating to me. He closed the lotion and oil and placed them back in his implement bag then walked to the wall and turned off the overhead light. Next, he turned off the lamp on the desk and then the lamps on each nightstand before pulling the chair over alongside the bed and sitting in it. The room was dark except for the ray of light coming through the peeking curtains and it rested perfectly on my Dom. I lay quietly simply looking up into his eyes and I continued to sob. His eyes spoke lovingly down to me, still firm but the wall had again lowered and was replaced with an openness I absolutely adore. They are deep and expressive and I could quite happily look into them all day long, my own window to his soul, straight to the heart of the man I love and admire so very much.
"Talk to me." Daddy finally commanded in a very gentle tone. I was still softly sobbing as I recalled his last question during my punishment, the one my brother had asked him to ask me. I spent the next 15 minutes telling Daddy about Danny.
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Danny was a childhood friend of mine and my older brothers. We grew up just around the corner from one another and all went to school together. He was an athlete. One of 7 children from a devout Catholic family. He was a good friend of my brothers and would often stay over at our house. He & I attended one of our 8th grade formal dances together though we never really dated, we were more friends than anything else.
Our sophomore year in high school, at the end of our spring break, a mutual friend hosted a huge party while her parents were out of town. There were probably 30 of us at the house party and all doing things we could only get away with when there were no parents around, as many high school kids do. We weren't the "bad kids"......most of us excelled academically, came from good families, were active athletes......just typical teenagers who liked to push the envelope. Late in the evening, Danny and his girlfriend Marissa got in an argument and Danny decided to leave. He was clearly in no condition to be driving.....not many of us were, having been drinking all evening. Despite several friends trying to convince him otherwise, he left. My brother, 2 other friends of ours and I went to follow him to make sure he got home safely.......and though we were drunk as well, the driver of our car was not.
We chased after Danny as he sped through our small, midwestern town streets. Just 2 miles from his house there is a sharp curve in front of a factory entrance and the speed limit drops from 40mph down to 15mph due to the edge of the curve & banking of that particular street. Danny was about a 1/4 mile ahead of us but we could still see his tail lights as he approached the Limit St. curve. What happened next was absolutely tragic. Danny hadn't slowed for the curve and took it traveling close to 70mph and he flipped his car.....multiple times.....we watched in horror as the car finally came to res on it's hood in the field in front of the factory. 3 of us in our car, my brother & I included, were fire department Explorers (junior firefighters) on the local department so we had emergency medical and firefighting training & certifications.
We ran to the wreckage of crumbled up metal as the driver of our car called 911 for help. Danny wasn't in the car. We found him about 100yds away in the field. We tried to help him, the responding firefighters & paramedics tried to help him, the doctors at our small town ER tried to help him.......Danny couldn't be saved and passed away that night as a result of driving drunk. We buried him the next Saturday......a day before Easter.
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After several minutes of rubbing, kneading and firmly massaging my swollen, bruised & welted bottom, sit spots and thighs, Daddy finally stood up and collected the implements from the bed and returned them to the dresser top. I laid quietly watching him as he moved throughout the room, tears slowly rolling down my cheeks. I love watching him.....the way he walks, the way he carries himself.....intoxicating to me. He closed the lotion and oil and placed them back in his implement bag then walked to the wall and turned off the overhead light. Next, he turned off the lamp on the desk and then the lamps on each nightstand before pulling the chair over alongside the bed and sitting in it. The room was dark except for the ray of light coming through the peeking curtains and it rested perfectly on my Dom. I lay quietly simply looking up into his eyes and I continued to sob. His eyes spoke lovingly down to me, still firm but the wall had again lowered and was replaced with an openness I absolutely adore. They are deep and expressive and I could quite happily look into them all day long, my own window to his soul, straight to the heart of the man I love and admire so very much.
"Talk to me." Daddy finally commanded in a very gentle tone. I was still softly sobbing as I recalled his last question during my punishment, the one my brother had asked him to ask me. I spent the next 15 minutes telling Daddy about Danny.
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Danny was a childhood friend of mine and my older brothers. We grew up just around the corner from one another and all went to school together. He was an athlete. One of 7 children from a devout Catholic family. He was a good friend of my brothers and would often stay over at our house. He & I attended one of our 8th grade formal dances together though we never really dated, we were more friends than anything else.
Our sophomore year in high school, at the end of our spring break, a mutual friend hosted a huge party while her parents were out of town. There were probably 30 of us at the house party and all doing things we could only get away with when there were no parents around, as many high school kids do. We weren't the "bad kids"......most of us excelled academically, came from good families, were active athletes......just typical teenagers who liked to push the envelope. Late in the evening, Danny and his girlfriend Marissa got in an argument and Danny decided to leave. He was clearly in no condition to be driving.....not many of us were, having been drinking all evening. Despite several friends trying to convince him otherwise, he left. My brother, 2 other friends of ours and I went to follow him to make sure he got home safely.......and though we were drunk as well, the driver of our car was not.
We chased after Danny as he sped through our small, midwestern town streets. Just 2 miles from his house there is a sharp curve in front of a factory entrance and the speed limit drops from 40mph down to 15mph due to the edge of the curve & banking of that particular street. Danny was about a 1/4 mile ahead of us but we could still see his tail lights as he approached the Limit St. curve. What happened next was absolutely tragic. Danny hadn't slowed for the curve and took it traveling close to 70mph and he flipped his car.....multiple times.....we watched in horror as the car finally came to res on it's hood in the field in front of the factory. 3 of us in our car, my brother & I included, were fire department Explorers (junior firefighters) on the local department so we had emergency medical and firefighting training & certifications.
We ran to the wreckage of crumbled up metal as the driver of our car called 911 for help. Danny wasn't in the car. We found him about 100yds away in the field. We tried to help him, the responding firefighters & paramedics tried to help him, the doctors at our small town ER tried to help him.......Danny couldn't be saved and passed away that night as a result of driving drunk. We buried him the next Saturday......a day before Easter.
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I relayed this to Daddy as he sat in the chair beside the bed listening to me and I lay still in position over the stacked pillows on the bed sobbing as I spoke, salty tears cascading down my cheeks. I watched Daddy's facial expressions responding to what he was hearing and it made me cry harder and I turned my face away and hugged tightly to the pillow at my face.
"Look at me baby." Daddy instructed, his tone of voice and wording pulling me to him as I turned my head on its side to cautiously peer up into my fathers' eyes once more.
"I am so sorry that you lost your friend. I *hate* that you had to go through that, Natalie. Teenagers do a lot of risky things but none of them should have a permanent consequence. I know you know from losing Danny, others in your life and more still at work that life is precious and in an instant it can be taken. Tell me that you've learned your lesson. Tell me that you'll not ever do this again. Please?" Dad asked as he stared deeply into my puffy green eyes.
"I promise you Daddy that I'll not ever do anything like this again. I'm so sorry Daddy, I'm so very sorry." I cried up to him, my promise absolutely sincere.
"I know you're sorry. I believe you. I can not imagine ever losing one of my kids. Natalie, I love you so very much. I wouldn't know what to do if anything ever happened to you. You're my little girl........and I love you." Dad replied, his voice and his words melting my heart.
"I love you more Daddy." I whimpered as I slowly crawled off of the pillows and over toward him. Every move I made stretched my skin tighter across my sorely punished bottom & thighs but I needed to reach my Daddy. I curled up on the edge of the bed and locked an arm around his thigh which rested against the bed. Dad leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly as I lay on the bed sobbing. After a few moments, he sat back up but kept a hand cradling my head against the bed and I wrapped my other arm tightly around that strong forearm and just held tight to him. We sat there like that for several minutes as my crying slowed to gentle sobs. We didn't speak audibly, but we didn't need to, there was clear messages of love, regret, worry, care, concern, remorse and ultimately forgiveness being very strongly relayed between the two of us as he sat holding my trembling body and I curled around him clinging tightly to my Dad.
When I'd calmed down and the last tears had slid from my eyes, Daddy leaned in and kissed my forehead and swept the tears from my cheeks with his thumb before speaking to me again.
"Lay back over the pillows, young lady." His voice was soft but firm. I pulled his hand to my face and ran it along my cheek before kissing it gently and then doing exactly as he instructed. I restacked the pillows and lay over them, my poor beaten bottom again elevated into position for whipping, and I waited to see what more punishment he chose to administer.
He didn't spank me any further.......he simply left me laying over the pillows as he sat back in the chair and watched me. I absolutely loved this. My bottom and thighs still radiated heat and pain from my punishments and I would wince when a cool draft from the A/C caught the skin just right. But I layed there allowing the pain to truly sink in as I quietly gazed up at my Daddy before facing away from him, lost in my little corner of subspace, relishing this incredibly intimate and intense moment between us. I could feel his eyes on my body as I lay there and it is a feeling I absolutely adore. Belonging to him makes me the happiest girl in the world and sharing even the hardest of lessons and the most emotional of moments is a powerful bonding experience between the two of us.........and something I would not trade for anything in this world.
I had never felt so loved and cherished as I do now as this man's daughter...........I am an incredibly lucky and well cared for, happy Daddy's Girl. :)
I completely felt the intensity and intimacy that occurred with this punishment session. That only means it magnified ten times more with being right in it. I will reiterate, sometimes impulses overcomes logic. Yes, you have seen first hand the consequences of drinking and driving, but there are times our brain just can't rationalize that we could be next. I am a huge advocate against driving and driving, I'm always the DD, but there have been a few times I put caution to the wind and thank my lucky stars no one was injured. This experience is definitely going to help me from future 'caution to the wind'moments.
ReplyDeleteyou are very special to have someone care so deeply about you. i fully believe this punishment affected Him more than any other to date.
H.S......It was a very, very emotional punishment session. Incredibly intense & severe physically....obviously (I was still bruised & sore a week later).....but even the physical intensity was less than the high emotional charge. I could very clearly see sincere concern and fear on his face and it broke my heart to know I'd put him through that amount of worry.
ReplyDeleteFor sure this particular punishment effected my Daddy more than any other. I knew throughout the session that he wasn't angry with me because he simply would never punish me angry.....but he was certainly at his wits end. He had *never* hit a wall in a session before and it quite honestly, shocked the hell out of me the two times he did it. It was very apparent to me by his tone, his actions, his words, his facial expressions, etc that this offense very much struck a chord of fear in him. There were a handful of times throughout the punishment when I thought he was going to slap me across my face.....particularly right before he hit the wall that first time when I had giggled.....the exasperation on his face was evident and I sincerely expected him to slap me (and I certainly would have deserved it).
Definitely our most powerful session to date.......and guaranteed to be a "one & done" lesson; Dad will *never* have to repeat this lesson to me again.