Out of the darkness!

This title is intended quite literally…we have been cast out of the darkness at last!  For those unaware of the craziness happening in the state of California, Daddy and I have been without power off and on over the last four weeks.  In total, we lost power for 12 days.  Living in the mountains, that means no power AND no water.  I am grateful that by the time the third power outage hit, we were able to buy a generator to power our well, much of our kitchen, and some lights and outlets to keep electronics charged.  I know that life has been much bleaker for many of those near us, and for the poor souls dealing with evacuations from wildfires all over the state.

If you have no idea to what I am referencing (as many of you are on other continents!), a quick Google will bring you up to date on the dire state of our electrical company, PG&E.  Last year, PG&E was found responsible for faulty equipment starting a fire which killed many and burned down an entire town near us.  Now, facing bankruptcy, the company is coping with high fire danger weather (north wind events) by shutting down power all together, leaving 2 million Californians in the dark.  I do not find much joy in discussing politics, but that is the situation in a nutshell.  There is much more to the story if you should care to research this nuttiness.

In any case, I am blogging this morning to provide myself a way to organize my thoughts about Daddy and I’s D/s lifestyle…or lack there of.  We have failed miserably during this time of high stress to maintain any resemblance to the lifestyle which usually brings us much joy and peace.  You may have noted that I bolded the word “We” as this is very much a failing on both of our parts.  While I recognize that the burden of maintaining D/s lies on both of our shoulders, I feel that the failing in more mine than his, however.

In times of high stress, I become a bit like a commander.  At the time, I feel like my leadership skills are helping.  I work quickly, and efficiently, and I have little tolerance for anything that I perceive to be hindering the process.  This is not helpful to my husband.  His personality is very different and he does not respond well to this Napoleon-like leadership style (really can’t blame the guy!).  Combine the high stress situation, with his wife going all Mussolini, and he begins to deteriorate a bit.  His confidence drops, he starts making mistakes, and meanwhile…I am right there telling him everything he is doing wrong.

It pains me to write this.  I look back on my own behavior and I cringe.  I hate this part of myself.  I want to be the loving, supportive spouse that builds my husband up…instead, I am the one who tears him down during stressful times.  And obviously, this does not work well for him or our dynamic.

So…where to go from here?  I do not feel that I can ask anything of him at this moment.  I feel that the burden is on my shoulders to prove to him that I can change.  I tell him that I want him to be more dominant, but I do nothing to feed that dominance…instead, I challenge him at every turn.

To Daddy…. I am truly sorry.  Your baby girl is trying to get back on track.  I long to learn to submit to you better, to build you up, and to follow where you will lead.  I don’t know why it is so hard for me, but it is a gift that I desire to give to you.

To my readers…thank you for sticking with me!  This road to submissiveness is long and winding, at least for this girl.  I hope to be able share some naughty adventures or at least a good spanking story soon!

Happy blogging 😊

XOXO,

nora

 

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized

A Spanking Story- The Mentor #NSFW, 18+

Hello, my WordPress friends!

I would like to introduce you to a good friend that I made here on WordPress.  While he isn’t a blogger (as of yet), he reads many of our blogs and goes by the screen name, Implacable.  Implacable is not only dominant to his sweet wife of many years, he is an incredible author of my favorite genre (duh, spanking)!  He has graciously allowed me to share one of his stories with my audience, so without further ado, I present to you… The Mentor…..happy reading! 🙂

The Mentor

A Short Story By Implacable

Well this story might start off a little slow, but bear with me.  I think it might be worth your patience.  But be warned, there isn’t a smacked bottom for a page or two!  It might take me a while to write this story as it comes at a cost.  The chair in front of my computer has a triangular wooden bar on the seat.  It’s positioned front-to-back so that my legs fall either side of it and it bisects my sex and buttocks.  The point of the triangle is quite sharp and my buttocks barely touch the seat of the chair so that I am virtually suspended on the damn thing.  Thus when seated to write my story, I am effectively “riding the horse”.  As any woman will tell you who has experienced this little invention of the devil, it is excruciating.

Why do I sit on this horrid contraption?  I am required to do so by my mentor.  He has decided it would be useful in training my concentration.  Being so painful, it is much more difficult to concentrate, and therefore by achieving that state (of concentration), I am able to focus my mind so much better … so far for a few minutes at a time.  Then I squirm a bit, and fresh shards of pain course through me.  I have to admit, I have noticed at work that I can block out distractions far more easily than I used to, but the learning is hard won.  It is worse than usual this morning because Sir whipped my pussy and anus last night and I can hardly walk as it is!  It really, really hurts when Sir hits hard … and he always hits hard.  I look like a bloody duck waddling around, no dignity at all in that I assure you!  Still, enough moaning, on with my story.

People talk about the glass ceiling, and I’m sure its true in some cases that some women find themselves missing out on senior roles just because they are women.  Competing against the male clique can be hard sometimes.  I’ve never found it that way, but then, I’ve always had my mentor.  Let me tell you about this wonderful man, the “other man” in my life.

We first met when he hired me to a middle management job.  He was a senior executive at the time.  Almost from the moment we met at the interview there was something different, some special chemistry, between us.  I can remember so clearly … there were three people on the interview panel, but it was as though the other two didn’t exist.  My eyes had only been for him.  And I couldn’t tell you what it was that attracted me … not then at least, though I have a thousand reasons now.

Our relationship developed in ways both natural and somewhat unconventional.  We soon established a close working relationship.  I’m good at my job and so is he.  We naturally became easy in our working relationship, though it was always clear that he was the boss, the leader, the decision maker and I, the valued but supporting colleague.

[squirm.  Fuck this thing hurts! – Oh God, I hope he doesn’t read this because I’ll catch a real hiding and worse for swearing but it really fucking hurts!!]

I think it must have been 3 months after I’d joined the company that we had our first formal performance review.  At first it had started out as the normal difficult balancing act where he sought to praise my strengths, but to lay my short-comings before me without destroying my self-confidence.  He seemed to manage the situation with his usual aplomb, pointing out some fairly basic flaws, while leaving me feeling comfortable that I was doing very well in most departments.

After about half an hour’s discussion, the subject changed to where my career was heading.  In that discussion he suggested that I needed a mentor, someone who was senior in the company who could guide and direct me;  someone who could look out for opportunities and point out some of the pitfalls;  ideally someone who could help me correct my faults.  It must have taken me all of half a second to blurt out:

“Would you be my mentor, please Rupert?”

“If I agreed, I would need to be very hard on you.” He replied in a strangely steely voice.  A voice that threw a shiver through me.  “As I’ve just discussed with you, your main shortfall is that you need to learn to cultivate an inner strength.”

“I know you well enough to know that you will always be fair with me.  If I need to learn to be strong, then I would rather learn that from you, if you will take the trouble to teach me.”

I think I had already fallen in love with this man.  A sort of quiet unrequited love perhaps.  After all he was a married man, and happily for all I could tell.  I had no intentions of breaking that bond, you know, the women’s code and all that.

He agreed to take me on, but only on condition that I agreed to his methods.  It was then that I discovered a side of Rupert of which I hadn’t previously been aware, though perhaps I had always known that there was a stern inner core to him.  He hesitated momentarily as if weighing me up and then he told me how he believed in corporal punishment;  that if he became my mentor, I would have to learn many of my lessons through physical pain and that I would be punished severely for failure.

  1. Reality check here. I’m a well adjusted young career woman in my late 20s.  Sure still single, after all I’m bit choosy and certainly wanted more than the first unsophisticated grappling male that tried to race me to the altar as the best way to get an unpaid maid and live-in hooker.  Not that I keep my legs too tightly closed.  But as I say, I’m choosy, like any sensible girl would be these days.  I like my independence, up to a point.  So a guy that is offering to smack my bottom!  Well, I do rather like the guy, and after all, if it helps get me to the top, would it be all that bad?  Funny how I never thought to use his inclinations against him.  I was always on his side if you know what I mean.  It was only later that it occurred to me how much he must have trusted me to reveal that side of him.  I could so easily have ruined his career there and then, but after all, he was always a good judge of character, that’s one of his many strengths.

I found myself saying yes and the deal was done.

Our first session was to be after work, Friday week – he wanted me to have 10 full days to back out.  If I still wanted the gig, I was to tell him so on the Friday morning, and he would give me instructions.

Instructions?  Well what was I to know.  I’d asked the guy to be my mentor, and if that meant getting some instructions and the occasional smacked bottom so what.

I didn’t count the number of times during those 10 days that I’d decided that I really shouldn’t get involved in this.  After all there was a distinct undercurrent of sex in all of this, and I was an absolute stickler for the “no sex with the boss” rule.  But every time I thought about being under Rupert’s direct tuition, sex or no sex, I seemed to end up with damp knickers.  And the sex I had with my vibrator in bed over that 10 days was never better.

So of course I said yes on the Friday morning.  Yes, with a strange mixture of fear and excitement.  There was no doubt that he too took a jolt of pleasure from my decision.  He leaned over and kissed my brow.  I was delighted and yet dismayed.  After all, as he’d leant over the desk I’d puckered up hadn’t I – and what woman wants to have her kissing mouth all in position and then ignored.  But he had kissed me.  That was some sort of coup!

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope which he handed to me.  He told me not to open it until I got home, but that I could go home at lunch-time.  The instructions were inside and were complete.  He would see me at his place tonight.

My curiosity when I got back to my desk was insatiable.  But my resolve held.  I couldn’t work at all, I just kept thinking about that damned envelope.  At last lunch-time came and I bolted.  The drive home was mental cruelty in my opinion, but finally I got there.  I ripped the bloody envelope open in the garage … I sat in my car for 15 minutes after reading the contents.  I was in shock.

The instructions were detailed, and very explicit.  In short I was required:

  • to turn up at his home, at 8pm on the dot (address and directions clearly given)
  • wear a knee length dress … and no underwear!
  • high-heels and stockings (men! They obviously have never had to wear the bloody things.)

I had to buy a cane!  And a wooden backed hairbrush (if I didn’t have one – I didn’t, I had one of those plastic spidery things), a tawse, and a martinet.  I didn’t even know what the last two were.  I do now.  He kindly gave instructions on where to go to buy these.

If all of these weren’t enough the last thing on the list blew my mind.  I was required to have an enema and to lubricate my behind!!  Instructions to bathe and put on make up went without saying.  But preparations for anal sex were rather more than I had bargained for.  And what else could these instructions be for?  I’d signed on for a smacked bottom, not buggery!

I didn’t give up there and then, I’m rather glad to say.  But it was an awfully close run thing.  I’m a liberated woman and have tried most things, but while I’ll occasionally offer my behind to a special lover, it was a rare and special occasion and up to that point, it was never my first choice for sex.  Things change, but I wasn’t to know that then.

[… Sorry, had to go and make myself a coffee.  I didn’t need the drink so much as the excuse to get off this damn wedge!  You can’t have any idea how uncomfortable it is.  It splits my pussy lips and bores into my vulva and just ACHES, that awful bruising ache.  And its not just my pussy either, Sir whipped my inner thighs as well and the rough wooden surface rubs against them horribly.  Not to mention the fact that my anus is rather inflamed from those delicious repeated buggerings I got last night.  I can’t tell you how much this wedge hurts back there as well.  Anyway, on with the story.]

Buying the implements for my correction was a challenge in itself.  I wasn’t used to walking up to a shop assistant and asking for things with which to be spanked.  It never occurred to me that it might be construed that I could be thought of as the aggressor, but even if it had, I don’t think it would have changed my embarrassment.  I’d hardly ever been into a sex shop (well, occasionally, but it certainly wasn’t a regular thing), let alone an establishment that looked more like a wholesaler for torture equipment!

Thank God it was a young woman who served me.  I was blushing scarlet and stammering.  In the end I just showed her the instructions and pointed to the implements I needed.  She was kind.

“First time with a master?” she asked solicitously.

I was almost incapable of speech and merely nodded.

“You won’t be in a position to make judgements about the implements then I guess?”

Again I sort of bubbled.

“I’ll get some fairly standard items then.  I see that he – I presume it’s a he?”  I nodded.  “Well he hasn’t specified the type of cane, so we’ll make it a thinner one.  Nice and springy, it’ll sting like hell, but it won’t bruise so much.  If you need a heavier one, I’m sure he’ll send you back, and in my experience, doms always like to have a bit of a selection to suit the mood.”

Just what the doctor ordered, a nice chatty girl.  We girls can chat about almost anything – you blokes would fall off your chairs if you knew what we talk about when there are no guys present!  So at last, my face regained its normal hue, and I could start talking.

“You seem to know a lot about your products, have you … do you?”

“Oh yes.  I have a master and a mistress and they thrash the living daylights out of me.  I took a tawsing from Madam and a caning from Sir at lunchtime – I’ve still got some lovely marks.”  With an impish grin she turned around and twitched up her skirt to reveal a bare bottom and thighs heavily marked with a criss-cross of weals.

“Oh wow!”  Intelligent comment from me.  “Christ that must hurt, and yet you seem so matter of fact about it, even happy!”

“Of course.  I love getting walloped, it really turns me on.  You will too, once you get into.  Sure it’s painful, but it gives you one hell of a high.”  She dropped her skirt and went to fetch the items for my future chastisement.

I completed my purchases as quickly as I could and hurried out of the shop.  What on earth had I let myself in for?

Buying the hairbrush was much easier and I admit to indulging in a sensual delight feeling their smooth backs as I made my choice in the local department store.

My last call was to the chemist.  Enemas and lubricant.  Again the red face and stammering;  I couldn’t help it, I just felt like I was naked and that everyone could see my thoughts and knew just exactly what I was going to do that night.  I practically ran from the shop once I’d finished.  Heaven only knew what I was going to be like when I actually had to face Rupert again.

Face him I did.  At 8pm on the dot, I drove up to his house and knocked on the front door.  I’d been sitting in my car for fifteen minutes around the corner just to make sure I wasn’t going to be late.  Not on my first mentoring session anyway.

[I can’t stop bloody squirming and each time I do it seems to hurt more.  And now I’ve got splinters in my pussy and thighs for God sake!  Hang on while I get some tweezers.  Fucking hell I don’t know why a girl bothers with all this obedience stuff!]

A rather nice house, quite large and on a decent block of land so that there was a reasonable separation from neighbours.  Rupert is obviously doing all right and I suspected his income is rather more than he gets from his day job.  [I found out later that this was indeed the case.]

As I neared the front door, in the quiet of the night there was a strange percussive sound followed by what I could have sworn was a muffled cry.  It was followed shortly afterwards by another and then quickly again another.  Anyone would have thought someone was getting a hiding.  And it suddenly dawned on me that perhaps I wasn’t the only one that Rupert was mentoring.

The door was opened by a girl in her early twenties.  With the door open, the next WHUP was much louder as was the following cry.  Unperturbed, the girl motioned me in.

“You must be Ms Lindall.  My father told me to expect you.  Please come in.  I’ll show you to his study.”

“My name’s Felicity by the way.” She said, matter of factly.  Several further strokes delivered and the accompanying yells attested to their efficacy.

“Please wait here.  Father will call you in when he has finished dealing with mummy.”  I couldn’t believe my ears.  Here was a young woman calmly indicating that her mother was being spanked in the next room as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Felicity left me to my fate, intimating, “I’m so glad you are going to be Daddy’s new mentee.  He canes really hard, I can tell you.  But I know you’ll be better for it.”  Her parting shot as she looked at the hold-all that I was carrying, “What sort of cane did you bring?”  At my expression of astonishment she continued, “Oh Daddy always makes his mentees bring the implements for their training with them.”  My stammered reply was more or less back to the babbling stage.

What planet had I landed on for God’s sake?  Whatever one it was, it was clearly a different place to the one I was used to.  My world was clearly in need of reorganisation if I was going to take in that day’s events and make any sense of them.

Another WHUP, scream, WHUP, scream, WHUP, scream.  I counted at least another dozen.  The poor woman was clearly taking one hell of a shellacking.  And then it went quiet.  For all the sounds that I had heard, the room was reasonably well insulated and I could only hear the faintest mumbles indicating that normal speech was in progress.  Or so I thought.  There were some higher pitched noises and the occasional noise that could have been a loud sob, but I couldn’t really make them out.

After some minutes, the study door opened and I looked on probably the most important room in my life for the first time.  Large for a study, it accommodated a desk with chairs on either side, several bookcases and a display cabinet.  At the other end, a sofa and two easy chairs framed a coffee table.  At the time, I didn’t notice the hooks in the ceiling.  The carpet was a beautiful deep blue and this was echoed in the wallpaper half-way up the walls to the picture rail, with cream coloured paint to the ceilings.  Royal blue curtains with gold trimmings finished off the décor.  A man’s room, and a magnificent one at that.

[Oh God!  See how well I’ve learnt to concentrate! and hardly a squirm for ages.  Damn it to hell this thing hurts.  But on with the story.  See how I’m learning all the time.  Talk about no pain, no gain!]

Rupert stood at the door and ushered me in.  He was in a beautiful long silk dressing gown.  As far as I could see he had nothing underneath.  I felt definitely overdressed!

“Welcome Natalie.  Please come in.  I’m glad you were on time.  I apologise for making you wait, but I was completing a training session with my wife.”

TO BE CONTINUED….

Hope you enjoyed reading!

XOXO,

nora

Posted in Uncategorized

100 Facts About Me

I recently started following Penny Berry, who authors a blog about the BDSM & DDLG lifestyle.  Today, she posted a list of random facts about herself (which was highly entertaining!).  To fill my evening while my Daddy is away on business, I attempted to do the same.

Thank you for joining!

100 facts about naughty nora

  1. Daddy and I will be celebrating our 17th anniversary in November
  2. Nothing lights me up more than hearing “you are a good girl”
  3. I like puppies more than babies
  4. I would give anything to have my mom back
  5. I’m not sure I could survive without my morning coffee
  6. I believe that integrity is a person’s greatest quality
  7. Fall is my favorite season
  8. I strive to sparkle!
  9. A good spanking and buggering is the perfect Saturday afternoon
  10. Decorating for Christmas is one of Daddy and I’s favorite things to do together
  11. I’d like to have two donkeys, a regular sized one and a mini in our field
  12. My favorite movies are Sense & Sensibility, Love Actually, and Moulin Rouge
  13. I’ve actually been to the Moulin Rouge in Paris
  14. Something on my bucket list that I have yet to accomplish is to publish a book
  15. My favorite sex toy is a pink jelly dildo
  16. Many nights I sleep in handcuffs to remind me that I belong to Daddy
  17. I love collared michael and his Queen…two amazing people on a similar (yet different) journey
  18. Everyone should experience the occasional pedicure
  19. My favorite meal (that has carbs) is a dark meat turkey leg with a red potato with all the fixin’s
  20. One of my favorite low carb meals is hassleback chicken (stuffed with mozzarella, tomato, spinach)
  21. My favorite feature on a man are his forearms
  22. My daddy has an amazing butt
  23. My favorite compliment that people give me is that my house “feels like a home”
  24. I lived in Hawaii…and let me tell you, islands get small fast!
  25. I am a mountain girl at heart
  26. I am terrified of mountain lions
  27. I love to wander around the nurseries (for plants, not babies. See #3)
  28. We bought a “fixer upper” and have put a lot of our own blood, sweat, and tears into our home
  29. Last year, I rode in an ambulance after trying to bust my skull on the bathroom door
  30. I love dressing up for Halloween
  31. I once had a stalker (who was a student… yay me, police escort on campus the rest of the semester)
  32. I despise talking about philosophical matters and politics
  33. I despise talking about the former because it goes round and round with no concrete answers
  34. I despise talking about the latter because it makes me feel incompetent
  35. One of my greatest fears in incompetency
  36. I love coloring and listening to piano music…to some degree, I identify as a “little”
  37. Swimming is my favorite exercise
  38. Zumba is my second favorite exercise
  39. My puppies are the miniature loves of my life
  40. My favorite blanket is made of Alpaca fur
  41. My all time favorite novel is Nicholas Evans’ Smoke Jumper
  42. Next on my reading list is the Lord of the Rings trilogy
  43. My favorite adult beverage is Captain Morgan…shot, anyone?
  44. I believe that many products people use every day (deodorant, sunscreen, etc.) actually contribute to cancer
  45. I know shaving one’s nether regions is popular, but I prefer a strip of short hair “down there” for sensation
  46. I fear the cane
  47. I also fear Daddy’s tawse, his strap, his wooden paddle, I could go on and on…
  48. I am excessively fond of “fall” scented candles
  49. I have way too much lingerie
  50. Are you still reading this? Consider yourself on my favorites list
  51. I rarely carry cash
  52. Due to the fact above, I got a toll booth ticket the day I went to pick up my puppies
  53. I am allergic to fish (but not shellfish- go figure)
  54. I enjoy pyrography
  55. My husband is a bit of a pyro
  56. I love to ride my husband while he sucks on my nipple
  57. My husband loves my boobs
  58. I wish doctors would stop prescribing addictive medications
  59. I love my eyes & my hair
  60. My husband and I love karaoke so much…we built a room for it!
  61. I don’t know how the heck Penny made it to 100, but I am throwing in the towel! 50 facts in all I’ve got in me tonight.  Off to enjoy some Netflix!

 

If you made it through…thank you…no small feat!

Happy blogging 😊

XOXO,

nora

Posted in Uncategorized

A heartfelt thank you

My dear readers,

I just want to express my sincerest “thank you” for your readership.  I took a look at my stats today, which is not something that I do often, and was blown away to see that I’ve had over 43,000 visitors to my page!  Now, I know that many of your blogs are far more popular and these statistics may not be impressive.   However, I was left awe struck that so many have chosen to see what naughty nora’s journey is all about.  And, over 300,000 views!  I never dreamt that anyone would find all of this of so much interest.

I also found it interesting that the top five countries viewing my page include the great USofA, Turkey, United Kingdom, China, and Finland.  My, my, aren’t we culturally diverse?

The top referring websites (how others come to find my blog) include:

My Bottom Smarts

The Spanking Bloggers Network

Madam’s Submissive Husband

 

My top commenters include:

collaredmichael

Miss D

Implacableone

 

So…thank you!  This journey wouldn’t be nearly as fun without you.  Blowing you all kisses and wishing you the naughtiest and most joyful experiences!

XOXO,

nora

Posted in domestic discipline, Uncategorized

Playing hooky…. #NSFW, 18+

Something about the changing seasons has gotten into me!  This morning, as I enjoyed my coffee and listening to the rain…I knew I just needed a day to do whatever I pleased…and I played hooky from work!  This is not something that I often do, and I was a little surprised that Daddy didn’t have much to say about it (sometimes I do wish he would be a bit stricter).  So…I feigned my illness to the workplace and stayed exactly where I was!  Two cups of coffee, some blogging, and one incredible spanking story that sent tingles to my naughty places later… and I headed to the bedroom for some me time.

I’ll leave the rest to your imagination, but let’s just say it was a great day.  Twice.

Until Daddy’s text came in this afternoon.

“Please be in the corner waiting for your spanking when I get home, young lady”.

Uh oh.  I guess he did mind that I played hooky today.

Happy blogging!

XOXO,

nora

Posted in D/s, Uncategorized

Through porn colored glasses… #NSFW, 18+

My Daddy does not allow me to post pictures of my body here on WordPress, and believe me, he takes plenty of photos for his personal albums.  However, in an effort to protect our privacy from the unforeseen, strict rules…no pictures, no real names, etc. (you didn’t really think that my parents named me naughty nora, did you?).  I am fine with that, most of the time.  But, occasionally I see the succulent body parts of my naughty friends here on WordPress and I wish that I too could indulge in enjoying the beauty of my body publicly.  In any case…recently, my Daddy sent me a picture of a porn star (Yara Eggimann).  He remarked on how much we looked alike and how we had the same little grin in our smiles.  Honestly, he is far too kind and may need to get his glasses checked (wait, he doesn’t wear glasses!), but I appreciated the compliment and I do see what he means about the expression.  There are other pictures of her where she is truly smiling, but I used this one as it fits nicely with my D/s themed blog.

So there you go, collaredmichael!  I wish the real life me looked this perfect!  I will tell you this though…that is exactly how I wear my hair (the hair on my head, you perv!)

XOXO,

naughty nora

Posted in D/s, Uncategorized

Where pleasure meets pain #NSFW, 18+

Daddy and I had one of those rare, beautifully perfect days yesterday.  It began with our morning ritual of coffee and hot cocoa, which we lingered over till almost noon.  It was then that Daddy told me there would be no sexual escapades that afternoon…I would have be a good girl and earn this privilege.  This concept is fairly new to us (pleasure being withheld), but I did my best not to pout.  We enjoyed a lovely lunch at one of our favorite restaurants (the lobster artichoke dip is phenomenal!) and spent time at the craft store selecting a few new fall decorations.  At the end of the day, Daddy told me that I had been a very good girl and that I would get my reward in the morning.

And boy did I ever!

He ordered me to our bedroom, to strip off everything except the leather cuffs he put me to bed in, and to lay face up on our bed with my legs spread.  I obeyed, the fantasies building in my mind, until I finally heard his footsteps in the hall.

“Good girl,” he told me, running his finger from my ankle to my hip causing me to shiver from the thrill.  He spread my legs even wider and began inspecting my freshly shaved lady parts.  Recently, Daddy has re-instated the rule that I must shave myself bare twice per month, ensuring that I am well-groomed to his liking.

“Roll over unto your tummy,” he said, heading to our walk-in closet.

I complied immediately, ensuring my thighs were spread so that I was fully exposed to his advances.  He was gone for several minutes and the anticipation was stirring great desire in this little girl.

When he returned he began to immediately strike my bare behind with an implement that I couldn’t recognize.  In some ways it felt like the cane, as it was unyielding and felt rattan.  He spanked me with this implement several times eliciting my cries and lighting fire to my backside.  He set the implement in front of me and I was dismayed to see the rattan carpet beater.  This is a fierce implement if you have never had the pleasure (I say this facetiously) of suffering under its wrath…

Next, he began to lightly run the leather flogger up and down my legs, letting the leather tease out pleasure.  He paused for a moment and I feared he might return to the carpet beater, but instead, he placed a vibrator underneath me, gently pulsing against my most sensitive pleasure button.  He resumed lightly flogging my thighs and my buttocks.  Switching positions, he began to flog me in such a way that the leather strands wrapped around my bottom and down between my legs…which was quite delicious.  Though I was a bit fearful that he might start striking with more force to that sensitive area…

I began to lose myself in the pleasure when he set the flogger down and began spanking me with his bare hand again.  When he switched to the wooden paddle with holes in it, tears came to my eyes and the pain began to consume me.  Just as suddenly he was back to lightly flogging me, producing the loveliest sensations.

It was then that he picked up the strap.  He tanned my bottom a glorious shade of red before ordering me onto my back.  He moved the vibrator down towards my naughty hole as he began to expertly manipulate my clitoris with his fingers, while sucking on my nipple.  The arousal that had been escalating all morning exploded and I was launched into the abyss…where all that existed was an all-encompassing feeling of pleasure.

I must say, earning this reward was far more satisfying than simply receiving it.  Perhaps I am growing in my submission!

Happy writing, my friends!  Hope life treats you well today 😊

XOXO,

nora