Naughty Irish Imp

Naughty Irish Imp

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Uncharacteristic Naughtiness (Part #1)


I had just finished applying my eyeliner when I heard him knock on the door. My stomach tightened, my heart raced and despite my pending punishment spanking, I couldn't stop the huge smile from appearing on my face. I hadn't seen my Daddy since the end of August, and I'd missed him terribly. Finally, he was here. I was an incredibly happy, albeit nervous, naughty girl.

I opened the door and my smile erupted into a giddy high school like giggle as I jumped into his arms. He easily caught me and wrapped me up tightly in his strong arms as he walked through the door and closed it behind us.

"I think my little girl missed her daddy." He said jokingly as he took me by the shoulders and held me at arms length for a minute giving me the once over, before immediately pulling me back into his arms and squeezing me tight.

"You have no idea." I replied as I clung to him, beaming from ear to ear.

"I think I might, I've missed my little girl just as much." He murmured down to me as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

I finally let him go so he could discard his bag onto the dresser top, check the A/C, and retrieve my punishment list from the desk where I had left it for him. I watched him intently and followed him around the room closely, much like a little lost dog. He sat on the couch, punishment list in hand and began to read through it. I quietly knelt at his feet, laying my head in his lap and looking up at his handsome face, studying his expressions as he read. 

I was content to stay just like this all day long. Kneeling before my Dom, carefully watching his handsome face as he scanned my punishment list again and again, trying to decipher each arced brow or audible sigh. My father is an incredibly attractive man. His deep, dark brown eyes speak to me on a level never reached by mere words alone. And though I could see the displeasure on his face, put there by the content of what he was reading, I simply couldn't turn away from him. Watching as that cold, calculating, sadistic wall rises in his otherwise warm & inviting eyes is absolutely mesmerizing and turns me on to an extent for which there are simply no words. 

Finally he sat the papers down next to his thigh where he sat on the couch, and after another audible sigh, he looked down and into my waiting emerald eyes. I inhaled sharply, noting the change in his eyes from our first contact upon his arrival in stark contrast to the glare I was receiving now. Now was the time at which I could turn away from those gorgeous eyes, though unfortunately, also the time at which he would deny me that privilege. The intensity was penetrating and I began to submissively lower my eyes to him. Almost immediately his strong right hand took a fistful of my long, red hair and jerked my head back, again bringing my now watery eyes up to his once more. 

"I love you, Daddy." I whimpered up to him, searching his eyes for leniency. 

"Uh huh." He grunted as his eyes continued to chastise me. 

Silently, instantaneously, powerfully. The confident young woman who had entered this room was now gone, and in her place a nervous, guilty, remorseful, naughty little girl dreading the accountability that she would find as she had to face her strict and displeased father. I wanted to retract my gaze, I needed reprieve, but it was an impossibility as his hand stayed entwined in my flowing hair and his dark eyes held my own captive. After what seemed an eternity, I couldn't withstand the intensity without response any longer and a lone tear escaped my right eye and began its' descent down my cheek. 

"Stand up now and go put your nose in that corner, young lady." Daddy instructed in a hushed tone, literally sending chills up my spine as I quickly complied, thankful to be out from under his penetrating glare momentarily. 

As I stood facing the corner, the offenses on my punishment list flooded my mind. I knew I had some serious repeat offenses to be punished for today, but the only offense that seemed to truly concern me was the only offense specifically directed at my father........just a few weeks before this session, Daddy had caught me misbehaving and called me on it via text message when I refused to answer his call, being in a confrontational mood anyway that day and now adding the surprise & anger that I'd been caught, I responded in an entirely inappropriate and uncharacteristic manner......I sent back the following text message:

"Would you just shut the fuck up Dad?"

I had typed it and sent it before I even truly allowed it to register in my mind what I was doing. Quite literally seconds after clicking 'send', I regretted it. I wanted to retract it. Delete it. It was just too late. I apologized. I attempted to explain. I offered excuses and justifications to negate the seriousness of the disrespect. I cried. I begged. I whined. I sucked up. I was careful to behave absolutely perfectly for the days and weeks afterward. But regardless, the offense had not disappeared.......and I knew that today, in addition to my repeat naughtiness, I was going to have to stand before my father on my shaking, wobbly knees and answer for that insanely poor judgement. 

Of every offense on that list, this was the single, solitary thing that continued to flash in my mind. I am always incredibly critical of myself any time I feel or know I have shown disrespect toward my Daddy in any way. I truly respect this man more than any other human being on the planet. He is so good to me, connects with me in so many ways, meets needs for me on a level no other person ever has, takes care of me always, has made me a central priority is his already busy life, loves me with an intensity that is rare in human interaction and is always there for me....always. As little tolerance as my father has for my disrespect toward him, I believe I, myself, have even less. 

Just thinking about what I had said to him disgusted me. Tears slowly trickled down my face as I continued to replay the offense. My body was shaking, my heart racing and aching with regret, my stomach turned and a large lump had appeared at the back of my throat. Within mere minutes of facing that corner, I was a complete mess, and my Daddy had yet to touch me. 

As I stood sobbing and sniffling in the corner, I began to feel incredibly small and vulnerable. I wanted so badly to turn from the wall and rush to my Daddy, wrapping my arms around his waist as I cried my remorse into his chest. I wanted his touch, I wanted his tenderness, I wanted his reassurance. But I knew I had not yet earned any of it and disobeying him now by leaving the corner without his permission, would have made it much worse. 

So as I stood there, fighting that strong urge, I slowly wrapped my own arms around myself, pulling my shoulders in and hugging myself tightly. I repeated to myself over and over in my cluttered little mind that I had only made a mistake, I would be punished & learn my lesson, I was still my Daddy's little girl, he loved me and would forgive me. No matter how many times I silently repeated this mantra, it did not calm my nerves or help to relax my body. I continued to sob and to shake as I held myself tightly as close to the corner as I could manage to get, somehow wishing it would swallow me up. 

My Dom can read me like a book and is in tune with my body & mind on a level I have never experienced before becoming his girl. He paced on the other side of the room for several minutes as he watched my struggle, only escalating my unease. 

Suddenly, through my teary eyes, I could see his shadow eclipse my own as I huddled in that corner. I closed my eyes tightly and dropped my head as I continued to sob and shake. The back of his strong left hand slowly ran down my cheek. I held my breath, anticipating a crisp slap, but it never connected. His right hand, as with the left, caressed my cheek, before the two in unison scooped up my hair, tucking it behind my ears and gathering it all at the base of my neck. Tears continued to trail down my face, but my audible sobbing had ceased as I nervously shook and held tight to myself. 

I felt my Daddy's hot breath on the inside of my neck, heightening every nerve ending in my body, and causing my own breath to hitch in the back of my throat. 

"I know why you're upset and I know why you're scared. You should be little girl, you have a *very* high price to pay for that today. In fact, I'll leave you to continue panicking about that a while longer, and we will address other offenses first. Clear?" He whispered mere inches from my ear.

I nodded my head yes, unable to find my voice to respond to him. My head spun, I absolutely love when my Dom uses his own towering physical size to pin me to a corner and impose on my personal space. It is incredibly hot and drives me crazy. His grip on my hair tightened significantly, causing me to whimper as his grasp was at the sensitive nape of my neck. I knew he wanted an audible response and I fought to provide him one. 

"Y-y-yes Sir." I meekly mumbled back toward him. 

"Good. Now stop getting yourself worked up over it until we address it. It is not your place to beat yourself up for your bad behavior, that is my job and I don't recall asking for your help. No one beats my girl up for her mistakes, except for me. Do you understand me, young lady?" He asked in a low, hushed tone again right at my ear, his hot breath caressing my neck, causing my head to spin and heart to beat wildly inside of my chest. 

And his words....oh his words....the man has a way of selecting his words in a way that always pulls at my inner submissive core and leaves me quite literally, breathless.

"Yes Sir." I replied as I replayed his words again and again, incredibly turned on by the way in which he had just phrased that warning. 

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


  1. oh dear..what a range of emotions hving not seen your Daddy for months.
    Looking forward to hearing the rest.

  2. little.........It was an absolute rollercoaster of emotion, girl! Then again, about any time I've had so much time between visits, it usually is. I'm always a mixed bag of elation and nervousness. Ahhh the confusion that is the bliss of submission. :)