Again. Hard. Again.

10/07/2014


In the grand scheme of things, it really hasn't been that long since I have been spanked. In fact, I was seriously punished just days ago. My bottom and thighs still wear his marks and I am still cautious when sitting down.

And yet....

I need to be spanked. Again. Hard. Again.

I haven't done anything wrong necessarily. I have no new entries on my Punishment List that need addressed. I have no harbored guilt or remorse which seeks an outlet. I have broken no rules. Crossed no lines. Pushed no boundaries.

And yet....

I need to be spanked. Again. Hard. Again.

I'm stressed. My life is still not resting in a 'comfortable normal' pattern. I am overwhelmed. I'm alive but not living. Independent but not free. Content but not happy.

And naturally, aside from the mounting stress for which I seek release, I am quite simply a spanko girl.

This is who I am.

It is as much a part of the fabric of my being as my quick wit, my emerald eyes, my red hair, my stubborn Irish nature.

I also, though I saw him just days ago, miss my Daddy. Our session late last week was the first time I have gotten to spend quality time with him since my birthday back in July. Though we speak every day, nothing quiets and balances me more than being in his presence. His eyes, his silky smooth voice, his touch, his smell, his undivided attention.....bliss.

Perhaps, if our schedules allow, I will have another Daddy daughter date with him in the next couple weeks. I simply need to be with him. To quietly kneel in front of him and gaze up into his chocolate brown eyes. To be draped across his capable lap as he peppers my upturned bottom mercilessly for no reason other than I am his and he can. To bury my face in a pillow while he whips my bare bottom and thighs hard and then bury my tear-streaked face in his chest as he holds me after the last swats find their mark.

I need to be spanked. Again. Hard. Again.