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Friday, January 30, 2015

Lined in Pain

Good morning friends, our temperatures today are expected to be little warmer than usual but still quite chilly in the evening, with no snow or rain in the forecast.  We're all looking forward to a quiet weekend, but there are a few things that need to be done around the house.  Last week a shelf broke in our bedroom closet, of course Daddy told mouse that there was too much on it.  He'll repair it.  By all account mouse's favorite ritual is the one where he comes home at the end of the day.  Greeting him, taking his coat and briefcase and seeing him settled in his chair.  It's mouse's time to dote on him a little.  A tall glass of iced tea, or if his days has been particularly trying, a cocktail or glass of wine.  Then mouse kneels and removes his shoes.  It's probably the most special time to mouse.  

On Wednesday night, mouse got fucked so hard, so deeply by Daddy that she waddled to the bathroom. Seriously, normally he's rather careful not to hurt mouse down there. Yet, the need in him was strong, and just as strong was mouse's need who stupidly egged him on.

It felt so good, his body slamming into her sweet spot, repeatedly and her orgasm was huge.

On Thursday morning when Daddy came at mouse again, she shuddered -- oh crap not again! He was gentle and it felt incredible. Still mouse was walking a bit funny. A long hot shower, a couple ibuprofen later mouse felt fine.  Thursday evening, mouse was in his study and he went through the demerits she garnered during the past week.  

Even though her offenses were small, Daddy felt they still warranted correction of some sort, so he went to the wardrobe cabinet, and took out the cane.   Not sure when he decided the number, but felt ten would suffice  The difference with this punishment, he didn't want mouse to make a sound.   He cleared off a portion of his desk, held out the cane for mouse to kiss and had her bend over the desk.   He instructed mouse again to not make a sound (if she did more would be added), and to stretch her arms out before her.  Then he spoke, asking her questions about the demerits, forgetting important items at the grocery store, over-spending on her allowed budget (there were a couple "impulse buys" that she hadn't asked permission before).  'What will you do next time?' Daddy wanted to know and mouse replied that she'll work harder at making a proper list and if she sees something that isn't included she will ask his permission before buying it.  

The first blow hit and it sent a ribbon of pain surging through her.  "No lip biting mouse," he warned.  
The second blow felt harder than the first and by the fifth blow, mouse was straining to keep from gasping.  On blow number eight. mouse was barely able to hold herself together, but he announced only two to go and told her she was doing well.  There was noticeable trembling at number nine,  and ten landed around her thighs with a sting that just about sent mouse screaming.  

After her held her for a few minutes as tears finally were allowed to fall.  He rubbed her red, hot bottom and told her that she did a good job for him and he knew it was going to be hard.  

"Punishments are never easy." 

Then he did something different, he had mouse stand in the corner of his study.  To contemplate her pain and errors.  

"Lift that skirt slave, so I can admire the view." 

With her back to him, she could hear him replacing the moved items on his desk, then the shuffling of papers, the familiar creak of his chair as he moved it and sat.  

"I hope your carefully pondering your punishment slave." 

The pulse of the throbbing seemed to match her heart beat as mouse tried to focus on the punishment. Tears fell from her cheeks as she began to process the whole thing.  Remorse, lots of remorse...not that she'd be caught but because this is such an old problem.  Will mouse ever really learn this lesson?

The caress of his hand brought her back, as Daddy stood behind her.  He whispered for her to drop her skirt and go wash her face.  Wordlessly mouse obeyed.  In the glaring light of the bathroom, alone she cried, splashed water on her face and returned to him with her head lowered in shame.  

"Time for bed mouse.  Go ahead and ready yourself, I'll be up in a few minutes." 

The long trek up the two flights of stairs to our bedroom, mouse choked back more sobs of regret.  As she undressed, she caught a glimpse of her striped rear, bright red, with rising welts.  They reminded mouse of her error.  Usually when she sees the marks left behind from him she feels they look pretty.  
His mark.  

This time it was a reminder of mistakes.  Already mouse wished them gone.  Looking at her reflection in the mirror, mouse wondered if when she's 80 will she still be getting the same punishment for the same mistake?  When she looked up after washing the makeup off her face, she saw Daddy standing behind her watching.  

Turning,  mouse sort of crumbled into his arms tears streaming down her cheeks.  He held her for several minutes, then took the towel, and wiped the tears away.   Then he undressed and climbed into bed, waiting for mouse to beg permission.   Honestly, mouse wasn't sure she could form words but she did and the ritual was complete.  The need for that ritual seemed extra important.  Sure, he could have just as easily offered her permission to just go to bed or commanded that she just do it.  The art of making her ask him, made her feel comforted.  

Despite the punishment we're still the same.  All is well.  


  1. it must be nice to have a clean slate like that. just thinking of that kind of mental freedom makes me tear up.
    hugs mouse,

    1. At times it is nice -- like most things it's a good thing, except when it's not. :)


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