“Tell me what happened yesterday.”
I took a deep breath and dived into the whole tale. As I shared the details about how Jasmine accused us of being into freaky shit, Michael’s face grew more and more red. I couldn’t tell if he was growing angry at me or my co-worker.
When I finished talking, it was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was moments like this where I didn’t understand why I tried to hide things from my husband. It worked out so much better when we were honest with one another.
“Honey, I wish you’d told me this earlier.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was embarrassed that something we’d already gone over got me into trouble at work. I shouldn’t have let Jasmine’s comments bother me so much.”
“I can understand why they did. It wasn’t until very recently that anything besides a vanilla relationship was talked about in society. People are still getting used to the idea that it’s acceptable to like different things in the bedroom than missionary with the lights off.”
It was true with anything; people always needed time to accept change.
“On top of that,” he continued, “I didn’t expect you to be fully okay with this after discussing it once. I know when it comes to new stuff in the bedroom, you need to be reassured, especially if it’s something as taboo as you calling me Daddy during sex.”
He knew me so well. I wasn’t a person who rolled with changes and went on. I looked at it from all sides, good and bad, right and wrong, worried about it and often had to talk it through several times before I got to the moving on stage. And keeping it to myself only made the process more difficult.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you all this, honey. I should have.”
“I accept your apology and I hope in the future you come to me for help. You know I’ll always be here to help you in any way I can.”
“I do, which is another reason I love you so much.”
“Good girl. Now, there is a matter of a spanking to attend to. You lied to me last night when I asked if anything was wrong and then this morning you went off the deep end with running.”
“Yes, Sir.” I bowed my head and looked down at my hands. Disappointment washed over me full force for letting myself down, and even more so, Michael.
With a gentle yet firm touch, he raised my chin until we were looking at one another. “I want you to get your wooden hairbrush from upstairs and bring it back down here promptly.”
Ugh! I hated that horrible thing! It was heavy and hurt like the dickens. Normally, he only used it for very serious infractions.
“But, Michael, I apologized already. Can’t you just use your hand?” I pleaded. I’d try anything to keep him from using that hard, inflexible piece of wood on my tender bottom.
“No. You knew what the result would be if you lied to me. Stalling doesn’t sit well with me either. Grab your brush and be back here in two minutes. For every extra minute you take, it’ll be an extra two smacks.”
I dashed off the couch and headed upstairs to do what I was told. The evil implement was hiding under the bathroom sink. I’d left it there after my last punishment, hoping my husband would forget about it.
I held it in my hand and looked down at it. Right now it appeared so innocent and lightweight, but in my stern husband’s hand it would be anything but. Once he finished, he’d rub my bottom to ease the sting and spread the warmth all around. It was then that the sting would turn to pleasure and travel to adjacent areas, making them tingly and swollen and very wet. My orgasm afterward would be very intense.
But I didn’t want to risk more licks by trying Michael’s patience, and for darn sure didn’t want to postpone getting to the good parts. With brush in hand, I scurried downstairs ready to face my consequences.
My husband was waiting in the same place I had left him. Except for this time, he had moved a bit forward on the couch, so his back was perfectly straight and when I went over his lap, I wouldn’t be able to lay my upper body against the couch.
He reached for the hairbrush. I gave it to him and watched as he placed it off to the side. Phew! Looked like he was going to give me a nice warm-up hand spanking first. That would help me out.
“You know the drill, honey. Pants and panties off, then over my knee.”
I did as he asked and once I was bent over, I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I wasn’t crazy about being in this position. I had both my hands forward pressing against the floor to support my weight. My feet couldn’t touch on the other side, so they were dangling slightly in the air. I had to balance on Michael’s leg. I knew he wouldn’t let me fall.
He ran his hand over my backside and I jumped. Oh, how I wish he wouldn’t prolong this part. I wanted to get the spanking over with.
I didn’t have to wait long. He landed four smacks on each of my cheeks.
“Mmm,” I murmured. These weren’t painful, but they didn’t feel the best either.
“Relax, sweetie. I’m just warming up your skin.”
Again, he gave me four smacks on each side of my bottom and this time, he added two additional swats to each of my sit spots.
My bottom was starting to warm up and I tried wiggling, hoping to be able to get away.
“Stay still, young lady,” he commanded, placing four harder smacks on my ass.
“Ouch!” I screeched. Those hurt much worse than the previous ones. The sting was strong across my entire ass and I was sure if I looked back it would be a lovely shade of pink right now.
“You’re doing great, sweetie,” he said, as he rubbed my heated skin, giving me a moment to catch my breath. “Keep your body relaxed.”
I tried to do as he suggested but when half a dozen hard spanks fell onto each side of my bottom and then an additional three fell onto my sit spots, it was very hard not to tense up. Especially when my sit spots got punished, because that stung so bad.
“That hurts,” I cried, tears now pooling in my eyes. I tried to take a deep breath to calm the burn, but it didn’t seem to help.
He placed another half dozen spanks onto each of my cheeks. I couldn’t help but try to wiggle around to get away from the sting.
“What’s our rule about wiggling during your punishments, young lady?” he asked, as he maneuvered one of his legs to wrap it around the top of mine. Now I couldn’t move at all.
“I’m sorry. It hurts a whole bunch,” I admitted.
“I know and I hate having to do this, but you broke the rules and you knew what the consequences were going to be.” He gave me a small reprieve by rubbing my heated skin, which gave me a chance to calm down a bit.
All too soon he was saying, “I’m going to use your hairbrush now, Kate. You get five strokes with this and I want you to count as I give them.”
“Five?” He had to be crazy. That was four too many in my opinion!
“Let’s make it six.”
“No-no, I’m sorry,” I begged, hoping he would go back to his original number, but I knew it was too late.
He landed the first two smacks on my right cheek.
“One, two,” I called out, biting my lip to try to stop the tears from flowing down my face. It was hard to do though because I was in physical pain, but more important, I was feeling pretty disappointed in myself.
I’d known better than to lie to my husband, yet I’d done it anyway and for what? It didn’t make me feel any better; in fact it made me feel worse. I knew talking things out with him would help make things better, but again I had chosen not to. And by doing so, I hurt him and that was the worst feeling in the world. For that alone, I knew I had earned this punishment fair and square and the only way I would feel better would be to take it as best as I could. Afterward, all would be forgiven.
He placed the next two strokes on my left cheek, causing a strong stinging sensation to shoot through my entire ass.
“Three. Four. I’m sorry,” I cried out, not trying anymore to hold back my tears. It was too intense with all the emotions racing through me on top of the burning feeling. My ass was seriously starting to hurt. I was sure it was bright red and radiating with heat.
“Last two, sweetie. You can do it,” Michael encouraged me before he placed one stroke on each of my sit spots.
“Five. S-Six.” That pushed me over the edge and I started to sob at the pain. It felt like my ass and the top of my thighs were on fire.
“You did so well, honey,” he said, picking me up and then cuddling me on his lap. “I’m proud of you for taking your punishment so well.”
I didn’t bother trying to thank him right now. All I cared about was crying.
He held me the entire time, stroking my hair and back, as he kept whispering reassurances in my ear.
Once I finally settled down, I felt better emotionally and mentally. As much as I hated getting punishment spankings, I would never give them up and lose this moment of release and forgiveness.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Of course as soon as I answered him, I was hit with a strong wave of desire. Now that the hard part was behind me, the pleasure intensified. A couple of strokes to my swollen bundle of nerves and I would be pushed over the edge.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit squirmy to me,” he said, with a knowing look in his eyes.
“Actually, now that you mention it, in between my legs could use some attention.”
“Tell Daddy how it feels.”
I could feel my cheeks heat up at his statement, but I played along.
“It feels all tingly, Daddy. I want to touch it, can I, please?” I reached down to do exactly that, but he stopped me by grabbing my hand in his.
“No, you can’t do that. Only I can.”
Thankfully, he didn’t make me beg or even ask him to do it. He brought his hand down and started to rub small circles on my needy wet flesh.
“That feels really good, Daddy,” I moaned, thrusting my hips into the air, wanting more.
“Only good? That’s not nearly enough. Lie back and hold on, baby, because Daddy is going to make you feel great.”
He took a break from playing with my clit and concentrated lower, sliding one long finger inside and slowly fucking me.
“Oh, my gosh,” I murmured, enjoying the intense shivers of desire rushing through me.
“You like this?” he asked, adding a second finger.
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered, feeling the stretch and how my inner muscles squeezed down around him.
He added a third and a fourth one, making me feel so full.
My breathing quickened at his continual thrusting in and out of me. When he brought his thumb down on my aching clit and started to rub it again, I was pushed over the edge.
When my orgasm hit, it sent a burst of my juices all over his hand and pushed me into what must have been cloud nine. My muscles felt like they were made of spaghetti; there was no way I was going to be able to move after this.
Daddy kept rubbing my clit until I was completely and utterly spent.
“You look exhausted, babe.”
“Mhmm,” I murmured, shutting my eyes. It was just too hard to keep them open any longer.
I felt him shift beneath me and he laid me on the couch. “Where are you going?” I asked when he let me go.
“To get something to clean you up.”
I was drifting off to dreamland when something wet touched my thighs. Instantly awake, I opened my eyes and Michael had spread my legs and started cleaning me off with the warm washcloth he’d gotten.
I tried to close my legs, but he wouldn’t let me.
“I don’t like it when you do this.”
“I don’t know why you let it bother you, honey. After all we do, this is nothing.”
He’d seen me up close, touched me everywhere, and put his mouth on me countless times, yet there was something so intimate about him cleaning me up after he made me come. Still, I didn’t want to make a fuss. Instead, I lay quietly with my face burning while he took care of me.
“All done. Now try and rest your eyes. You’ve been working too much and you need a good nap.”
“But I woke up so late this morning,” I yawned.
He cocked one brow because I’d just proven his point. Arguing was pointless, so I closed my eyes and sure enough in no time, I fell fast asleep.
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