Spatula

 During BHM’s visit I was extremely well behaved. However, one evening I had earned a punishment. On a Sunday morning before I headed to a photo shoot he asked me to text him the address of where I was going to be and when I arrived there.

I managed to complete half of what I was told to do. I had given him the address but not the time that I arrived. It had simply left my mind. 

That Sunday was a very nice day. It was the last day we had to spend together before he flew home. When I returned home we watched movies, ate pizza, and cuddled in bed the entire day.

As we progressed into the evening I was finally informed of my disobedience. 

“Baby, did you forget to do something this morning that daddy asked of you?”
 

I had drawn a blank and could come up with nothing. 

“Didn’t daddy ask you to tell him when you got to your shoot so I would know you arrived on time?”

“…..yes, daddy”

“And did you?”
 

“no, daddy”

“You know daddy is going to have to punish you for that. Your safety is important to me and if I ask you to do something you know you’re supposed to do it.”

I could already feel the tears starting to form in my eyes as I buried my face in his chest. He held me tightly which only made the tears start coming even more.

“If you’re a good girl it doesn’t have to be a hard spanking”

I sniffled and nodded my head. 

“Stand up”

I did as I was told. He lowered my panties and instructed me to lie across his lap. 

“I know you’re already very sore and I don’t want to have to spank you, but you know that this is important and necessary to correct you when you misbehave, don’t you?”

“Yes daddy”, I said as I was openly crying now with my hands in little fists bracing myself for the spanking I was about to receive. I was filled with remorse for my actions but ready to accept my fate.

He began spanking my bare butt. It hurt. I still had fresh bruises from the days before. I tried my best to be still but eventually my self control was broken. Hard sobbing, begging, and kicking began. He grabbed my wrist to prevent me from covering my butt. I writhed in pain as I tried to escape.

“Daddy no, please stop, I’m sorry. Daddy it hurts. Daddy I can’t take it”

No mercy was shown. He moved to my thighs and my cries only intensified. I looked back at him to see the concentration on his face. He had a job to do and he was not going to stop until he was finished.

Finally he had me sit up on his lap. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly not wanting to let go.

“Oh my sweet girl. You did such a good job. You made daddy so proud of you. Daddy loves you so very much”

My emotions were simply getting stronger and strong. I was becoming overwhelmed with my love, my sadness of him leaving, and the release from the spanking. He had me stand up and guided me over to the kitchen. He grabbed the spatula and I broke away from his grip. 

I went to the bathroom and began crying harder knowing that my punishment was not over. He came over and tried to calmly get me to go back to the bed. I couldn’t. I was a mess. I was so afraid of being hit with the spatula. My body was tense and I wouldn’t allow myself to be moved. 

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” I kept repeating.

“Do you trust daddy?”

I simply nodded and I allowed him to guide me back to the bed. I laid down on my tummy like he instructed. I grabbed my stuffed bear and squeezed him tightly. He was right. I could take it, but it was hard. He gave me breaks in-between hits to recover and regain composure. 

The last flurry of hits was the hardest. The rubbery spatula was unforgiving and stung so sharply each time it made contact. The pain was intense. Eventually, like all spankings, it came to an end. 

He scooped me into his arms and held me as I burrowed into his chest. He cooed at me and praised me over and over again, helping me to calm down. He baby talked me and made me feel safe and loved. He laid me down on my back. He came on top of me and began kissing me and explaining that we were not finished.

He soon was inside of me. Every time he thrusted inside of me I could feel him pressing on the bruises on my thighs and I winced with pain. 

“Shhh, don’t cry baby. Grab on to daddy”

I threw my arms around him, my legs too, and I squeezed tightly. We were so close. I looked up into his eyes as he repeated over and over how much he loved me and what a good baby I was. 

That was the last time he fucked me before he left the next morning and it was beautiful.