Naughty Irish Imp

Naughty Irish Imp

Friday, March 14, 2014

Uncharacteristic Naughtiness (Part #3)



12/06/2013

"Stand up, young lady." Daddy ordered softly, but with resolve hinging on his words.

I slowly slid off of his lap and onto my feet, flipping my disheveled, red, flowing hair back out of my face as I stood before him on my shaking knees, my bottom and thighs a sore mess. He immediately rose to his feet as well and stood inches from my nervous body. My sobs hitched in the back of my throat and I was quiet as I stood trying to slow my breathing, a futile effort as his stance increased my heart rate.

"Repeat the text message to my face, Natalie Lynn." Daddy instructed in a low, hushed tone.

Unable to find or utilize my voice, I simply shook my head no as I stared at our shoes, fighting to avoid direct eye contact for as long as I possibly could get away with doing so.

"Excuse me?" Dad barked as he tucked his hand beneath my chin, abruptly raising my face up to his as he continued.

"First of all, I don't accept head shakes as answers. Second, I did not ask a question, I gave you an order. Repeat the damn message to my face, now." He demanded as he narrowed his piercing brown eyes at mine.

"I....I c-can't, S-sir." I replied, my voice quivering as I fought to maintain eye contact with him.

"Why not? It was okay in a text message, right? No hesitation then, why now? Is my reaction only a concern to you when I am physically with you? Is that the extent of the respect you have for me?" He fired off one question after another, every subsequent one making the lump in my throat larger.

"No Sir, my respect for you has no such limits, and it wasn't okay then....even in a text message, it was wrong. I was disrespectful and I know better. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I swear I didn't. I was angry and I'm sorry." I whimpered up to him.

"Anger is an overrated emotion." He lectured.

"Yes Sir." I sniffled.

His eyes continued to hold mine captive for several moments as I struggled not to turn away from him. He studied my face, narrowing his gorgeous but penetrating brown orbs at mine. His jaw would clench as he narrowed his eyes, and it knotted my stomach.

"Stack the pillows and get your ass over them, now, young lady." Daddy ordered.

I scurried to comply. My heart racing. As I reached for the third pillow to place it on the stack in the center of the bed, I was startled by Dad's resounding voice directly behind me, inches from my ear, as he recited the text from his cell phone.

"Would you just shut the fuck up Dad? Would you just shut the fuck up Dad?" He read with disdain and disgust in his tone.

I closed my eyes, not sure whether to expect more scolding, a crisp slap to my face, a harsh swat to my thigh. He trailed his firm hand over my bottom gently, sending chills throughout my body. I continued to adjust the pillows and then stood there beside the bed, my back to his chest, his large and powerful hand on my bottom as his voice again purred in my ear.

"Would you just shut the fuck up Dad? Yep, that my dear, warrants a good ass whipping." He said.

SLAP!

He smacked my right thigh with his open palm, pulling me from the lulled state his voice had sent me to, and causing me to inhale sharply.

"I'm going to shut the fuck up now and whip your disrespectful ass. Over those pillows, little girl." He ordered, a hint of sadistic sarcasm in his tone.

I quickly obeyed and crawled onto the bed, propping and positioning my hips up over the pillows, balling my fists in the blankets at the top of the bed and waiting for my whipping to my begin. I didn't have to wait long.

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

The first several dozen punishing lashes fell in a blur and I instinctively kicked my legs behind me to keep pace with the volley of swats connecting to my bare bottom.

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

"Owwww. I'm sorry Sir." I squealed back to him. 

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 

"Would you just shut the fuck up Dad?" Was Daddy's only reply to my apology. 

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 

I bit the corner of my bottom lip and sobbed into the blankets I was holding in a vice grip to my face. Emotions of guilt and regret flooding over my body, the sting of the leather working to absolve them as I submitted to my whipping. 

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

As my tears flowed freely to the bed, Daddy's pace let up some and he switched to a more methodical and deliberate administration. Pacing from one side of the bed to the other, applying a dozen or so searing lashes each time. Paying attention to ensure he covered every inch of my naughty bottom and upper thighs with criss crossing welts from his trusty whipping belt. 

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 

I fought the urge to apologize several more times and focused on remaining quiet, despite my sobbing, and fully submit to the correction I needed and deserved. I was incredibly sorry but I was unsure of whether or not my apologies would be accepted, or as early on, discarded and retorted to with another reading of the disrespectful text message I had sent. I chose to hold my tongue and wait to apologize until after, when I would know with certainty that my father would accept the apology if it was offered with sincerity and genuine remorse. 

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

The belt fell to the bed beside my face as I lay shaking and bawling over the pillows. The bed dipped down as my father sat beside me and I immediately felt the gentle caresses of his strong left hand on my hot, tender, sore skin. My breathing slowed almost instantaneously, my cries melting into barely audible sobs. I closed my eyes tightly and began to dip in and out of subspace. His fingertips traced over the fresh welts that now decorated my flesh. I raised my hips up further just to meet his touch. He firmly kneaded my sore bottom and thighs as I relished in his comforting and reassurance. 

Any offense that falls into the disrespect category, hits me incredibly hard. Daddy has said many times that he thinks I am harder on myself for these offenses than he is. He is forgiving where I tend to hold onto the guilt and refuse to let it go. I truly respect my father more than any other person in this world and when I fall short of demonstrating that, I have a hard time moving past it. 

"Look at me." He ordered, still gently caressing my burning bottom. 

I slowly brushed the tears from my eyes and turned my head to look up and over at his handsome face. His eyes took hold of mine immediately and the forgiveness was evident. 

"We are okay. Clear?" He asked.

"Yes Sir." I sniffled and replied softly. 

"I mean it, let it go. You made a mistake, you've paid for it, and we move on. It's not a chronic problem, there is no deeper issue. You spouted off in a moment of rage, I've punished you for it, I've forgiven you. It is done. No one beats up my baby for making mistakes, except for me.....let it go. Got it?" He asked, his eyes scanning mine intently.

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry Daddy. Thank you for whipping me." I smiled and I replied to him. 

He reached forward and brushed the tears from my face with his thumb and returned my smile briefly before returning to his all business demeanor, that stern and sadistic wall again rising in his mesmerizing chocolate brown eyes. I watched, unable to turn away, though the anxiety was again building in my body. 

"One more discussion we need to have today, young lady. This small little issue of my daughter blatantly defying me and disregarding an instruction I gave to her.....not once, not twice, not even three times....which I believe was our previous shameful record....nope....4 times in one damn week you chose to ignore my rules and disobey me in this. Didn't you?" He scolded with an intensity behind his tone of voice that made my body tense. 

"Yes Sir." I barely whispered up to him and I tried to return my face to the safety of the blankets where I could escape his penetrating glare.

His strong left hand entwined in the length of my flowing, red hair at the tender nape of my neck and he harshly jerked my head back around to meet his. I inhaled sharply again and choked back the pending sobs. He glared at me, his eyes first studying mine and then narrowing at me, his jaw again clenching. My eyes welled with unshed tears and my heart palpitated against my ribcage as I withered quickly under this visual chastisement. 

He sighed audibly, cleared his throat, released my hair from his grasp and stood up from the bed. With one final condemning look, he turned from me and walked across the room toward the desk and began searching his implements for his selected instrument of correction for this particular lesson. And I buried my face in the blankets and held my breath.......waiting.......panicking.......



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



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