Half Dozen Offenses (Part #4)

08/30/2013

"Over the pillows, young lady. I want that bottom up nice and high. You deserve every bit of this whipping and I want a willing target." Dad instructed as he paced beside the bed, where he had stacked 3 pillows in the center to prop my hips up, allowing him unrestricted access to my bare, naughty bottom. 

I cautiously glanced up at Daddy as my hands skimmed my tender flesh on the tops of my thighs from my paddling. The soap in my mouth tasted absolutely horrible! Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. Daddy met my gaze and narrowed his eyes at my own, causing me to instinctively drop my eyes back to the floor, yet again catching the sight of his designated whipping belt dangling free from his left hand just waiting to stripe my ass and thighs. 

"Yes Sir." I acquiesced and slowly crawled up onto the bed, elevating my hips over the stacked pillows and clutching the blankets in my fists tightly.

"I am disgusted with your recent language, Natalie Lynn. It's inexcusable. This is a behavior issue we spent damn near a year correcting and you'd made an enormous amount of progress and made me proud. Now, however, you seem to have reverted right back to a foul, gutter mouthed little girl. I won't allow MY daughter to sound like an ignorant, uneducated human being who believes 'fuck' is the best verb, noun, adjective or conjunction on the planet. Clear?" Dad scolded.

I sniffled and shook my head 'yes' in acknowledgement. Though he rarely accepts nods or shakes as an answer when I am being punished, he seemed to allow it this time. 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

The first half dozen swats from his belt fell in a rapid blur, catching me low on my already smoldering thighs. I clinched my fists tightly in the blanket and twisted my body from side to side trying to escape the volley of lashes as they continued to fall.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

Daddy typically whips me in the same methodic manner, pacing from one side of the bed to the other, applying a dozen or so swats each time, seconds between each so the sting sets in before a fresh one falls, deliberate, harsh. But today he didn't use this method; instead, he was whipping my bottom furiously with that viscous belt. Lash after lash bit into my aching flesh as I struggled to remain in position, the nasty soap pooling lathery saliva in my mouth, fresh tears streaming down my face. It hurt.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

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My legs kicked the bed at close to the same tempo his belt was beating my naughty bottom. I cried softly into the blankets, careful not to drop the bar of soap from my mouth. Every few lashes, the tip of the belt would bite into the side of my hip causing me to squeal out and writhe. My father, as always, ignored my displeasure as he continued to take his out on my welted ass.

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

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"I'm sorryyyy." I whimpered.

"You will be, young lady, you will be." Daddy assured with a determined tone as he began raising the belt higher, now snapping down on my bare bottom & thighs from up over his shoulder. 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK 

Dad discarded his belt onto the head of the bed and roughly grabbed me by my upper arm, quite literally dragging me off of the bed as I tried not to trip over the jeans entangled at my ankles. He drug me across the room before yanking me down over his lap quickly and taking the bathbrush from the end table into his large, left hand and with his right, grasping a fistful of my long, red hair and abruptly jerking my tear-streaked face back to meet his penetrating stare. 

"I'm done with this, Natalie Lynn. Do you hear me? DONE!" Dad barked. 

My body jumped at his raised voice and I meekly replied with a "Yes Sir." as I choked on my sobs and the soapy mess in my mouth. I tried to maintain eye contact with him as I knew he expected, but his eyes bore a hole through me and the look of combined anger & disappointment was breaking my heart; before I knew it I was again lowering my eyes to escape his. His hand still wrapped in my hair, it was easy for him to again roughly yank my head back to regain the contact. It hurt and I flinched, but focused my swollen emerald orbs onto his gorgeous dark brown eyes as he continued to scold. 

"I give you leeway, plenty of leeway. I'm not at all unreasonable in this, little girl and you know it. I gave you an inch and you've AGAIN taken a mile. You 'slip' and swear in damn near every conversation we have which tells me that you're doing it even more frequently with others because if you can't even raise your guard enough to minimize unnecessary cursing with your father, then you sure as hell aren't doing it with anyone else. Am I right?" He asked as his eyes continued to chastise me on an even deeper level than his irritated tone of voice was. 

"Yes Sir." I cautiously answered, again, careful not to drop the soap from my mouth to avoid further punishment. 

"I'M DONE! YOU'RE DONE! NO MORE! MY DAUGHTER IS INTELLIGENT ENOUGH TO MAKE HER POINT WITHOUT SOUNDING LIKE SOME DAMN GUTTER TRASH!!!" Daddy yelled, mere inches from my face as he held his grip tight in my hair, refusing to let me lower my eyes. 

I cried harder and my body shook. I truly hate when my father raises my voice at me. He does it very seldomly which I suppose makes those rare occasions more effective, but it still breaks my little heart every single time. He glared at me only another minute or so before releasing his grip in my hair and wrapping his right arm securely around my waist, a cue to me that he intended to make this paddling intense. I held Dad's ankle tightly in my right hand and lay as still over his solid lap as I could, waiting for my deserved punishment. Dad shifted my weight onto his left leg primarily and then raised his right leg and put it over the backs of my legs......placing me in a leg lock many people use for OTK spanking.......but it is something my father has not ever before done with me. I suppose I'd always been curious about the position but now that it was a reality, I couldn't seem to shake off the added sense of dread and helplessness. I sobbed incoherently and held his ankle tightly as he picked the bathbrush up from the couch next to him and let loose on my upturned, unprotected bottom. 

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Daddy paddled me furiously. Adding layers of deep reddish purple ovals on top of the welts his belt had just left. I squeezed tight to his ankle with my right hand but instinctively tried to cover my burning bottom with my left. Dad released my wait and took my left wrist and firmly placed it on the small of my back without speaking even one word and then just as quickly returned to paddling me, focusing on my thighs and sit spots. 

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I cried hard and squeezed his ankle tightly. My legs instinctively attempted to kick behind me, but securely tucked beneath my father's leg it was a futile effort. 

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"Kneel here in front of me, young lady." Dad instructed. 

I slowly slid off of his lap and knelt at his feet crying inconsolably. My bottom and thighs felt as if they were literally on fire. Every tiny movement stretched the skin taut and made me wince. I fought not to reach back to sooth the burning flesh. My puffy green eyes were focused on the floor and my father's shoes. I sobbed and sniffled and tried to slow my breathing as I waited for him to address me. He allowed me several minutes to calm and compose myself as I knelt there in front of him. 

I love kneeling before my father. Aside from over or in his lap, it is my favorite place to be when I am with him. It calms me, centers me, humbles me. Kneeling in and of itself is a very powerful, profound position of submission......I imagine for that very reason, amongst others, it is a definite favorite for me. Actually, though I've been a spanko girl and involved in D/s relationships since college, my father is the *only* man before which I have knelt. I always feel incredibly small when I am on my knees at his feet, but it isn't a negative or degraded sort of small......it is a very soothing, loved, cherished, good sort of small......the sort of small I have always longed for, and now, finally found. 

"Look up at me." Daddy finally commanded in a soft, quiet tone of voice. 

I obeyed and my eyes found their way from the floor up to his handsome face. His eyes studied mine for a moment or two. He reached forward and swept the flowing, red hair from my face and tucked the tendrils behind my ears before placing his large left hand directly in front of my mouth. I immediately opened my clenched jaw and allowed the lathery bar of soap to fall into his waiting palm. 

"I've raised you better. I expect better. You should expect better. We are done with this issue. If it arises again, the whipping & paddling you just received will be nothing compared to what you'll endure at my hand. Have I made myself clear, little girl?" Dad warned, sincerity clinging to his every word. 

"Yes Sir." I quietly and simply replied. 

"Good." He acknowledged. 

"Daddy." I began. 

"Yes?" He questioned, his eyes holding my own captive as I began to tear up again. 

"I'm so sorry I've disappointed you with this again. So very sorry." I cried. 

As I went to lower my eyes away from his again, he reached forward tucking his hand beneath my chin and tilting my face back up to his as he spoke. 

"You, Natalie, are my daughter....my baby....my little girl. You rarely disappoint me. It is not you that I am disappointed in, it was your behavior. You messed up, I taught, I punished, you'll learn, I forgave and we move forward. We are fine. Clear?" He reassured as he lovingly ran his hands through my long hair. 

"Yes Sir. Thank you." I responded as I lay my head onto his lap, wrapping my arms tightly around his calves and gazing up at him in adoration. 

Daddy continued to softly run his fingers through my hair and tussle it as I simply stared up into his gorgeous eyes and smiled through my tears. He allowed me to stay there kneeling at his feet and basking in his affection for a few minutes longer before finally speaking again.

"You may go rinse your mouth out now and then I want you back on the bed, up over those pillows for our next lesson. Unfortunately for you, it is also a repeat and the most serious offense we are addressing today because it is a safety issue. What, my dear, is our next topic of discussion?" Daddy asked, his tone returning to that all-business tone that knots my stomach. 

"My texting while driving, Sir." I replied as I rose to my feet and lowered my eyes as they welled with fresh, unshed tears. 

"Correct. Now move, little girl. Rinse your mouth and get back in position. Now!" He barked at me. 

I quickly scurried off toward the bathroom to do as I was told. My bottom aching with every movement, my stomach knotted as I contemplated my coming punishment......by far the most serious offense of the day, meaning by far the most severe punishment I would receive. My mind raced through the options of implements. The thought of even a hand spanking on top of the serious paddlings & whipping I'd already received today seemed unbearable and I knew one thing for sure.........I would *not* be receiving simply a hand spanking. 

Gulp!

***************TO BE CONTINUED*****************