Satisfied Spankee

I’m sitting on my bed, staring at the screen of my phone.

“Your spanking is at noon. I will be there then. Have readily available: a pen and paper, a large wooden cooking spoon or spatula from the kitchen, and a hairbrush with a flat back if you have one. Dress code: wear the dress with no bra you mentioned yesterday. I like bright colored panties. Any questions, Girl?”

I glance at the clock. It is 10:54 am. Shit, I can’t wait an hour.

“Yes daddy. I will be prepared,” I reply. I reread the message. “Pen and paper.” Hmmmm… I have no idea what he has planned, but I guarantee you I won’t be writing lines today.

Today is the first time I meet you, Daddy. We’ve chatted online, but we’ve never met. Hell, we’ve never even exchanged photos. You told me it was the thrill of the surprise. You lived an hour from me, so, after assuring I felt comfortable, you told me to leave my door unlocked and sit on my bed.

In nervous anticipation, I decided it’s better to keepmyself busy. Shit, he’s going to see how dirty this room is. I frantically start moving laundry where he can’t see it. I let my room get too dirty. He’s going to see my hoard. Not if I shove it into the closet.

I rush to make my bed and finish shoving the rest of my stuff in my closet. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, I smile. He won’t even see anything. I confess myself I am right. I know better than him; I can outsmart him.

What else do I need? My heart rate is quickening as I think about what the future holds. I don’t want to mess this up. This is our first session, and Daddy was very clear about our expectations. If I let him down, he may not want to play again. And I need this. I crave this.

The dress! I rush in a hurry to find the dress he mentioned. I wore it yesterday, so it was conveniently left on my stairs. I promise I will clean this up tomorrow. For real. I put it on and adjust myself in the mirror. I don’t feel my best, but there isn’t time to care.

Next, I run over to my dresser and look through my panties. He likes brightly colored, and so do I. I have pretty purple ones, but they have lace on the back and make me feel like I am trying too hard. I throw them on the ground. I have a cute pink pair, but I can’t seem to find them. I keep searching until I find the next best ones: bright blue panties with dinosaurs on the front. Some people might say they are girlish, but I think they are funny. Who wouldn’t want dinosaurs over their pussy?

After, I search for the tools required. Paper and pen. Where the fuck do I keep paper and pen? I write every day, but there are no tools when I need them. I settle for an old journal at the back of my closet and a pen from some bank. Of course, my aesthetic pens are somehow missing. Do you think he will care? Of course he won’t.

A wooden spoon. Oh, I have the perfect one. I grab a Pioneer Woman branded wooden spoon. It packs a thud and stings like hell. On the way back, I grabmy paddle brush from the downstairs bathroom.

As I run upstairs and lay the implements out; I see the screen on my phone has changed. “10 minute warning.” Only 10 minutes? I glance at the time. It’s 11:54. Less than 10 minutes.

I look around the room and resign to defeat as time is up. I decide to sit patiently on the bed and wait for him. I am scanning to hear the front door. Every little creak could be him. But then I hear it. The door closing. My heart is racing as I hear his heavy footsteps start walking up my stairs. Inside, my mind is anything but patient. I am stirring with emotions. What does he even look like? I am bracing myself for anything because it is the spanking that matters; nothing else matters. I need this release. It has been too long since I’ve had my mind quiet. The sweet surrender of giving into a spanking– giving into control. I need that.

I keep fidgeting with my dress. Should I tuck it under myself? Should I lay it flat? Should the instruments be in a line? Should I have them casually thrown about the bed? Will he notice? Should I stand? My mind is racing with questions, and I feel my panic coming on. He’s never seen me before. The doubt is setting in. What if he doesn’t like me? The negative thoughts are winning, and I consider locking the door. Then, I hear it. The light tap of his fingers on the door signaling to me he is here. He opens the door and steps through.

“Hello Girl.” The first thing I notice is how normal he seems. He isn’t some depraved dungeon master; I could have met this man at a coffee shop or around town. He’s quite handsome. He’s clad in a plain, black shirt and denim jeans. He has longer hair that perfectly frames his face and a piercing gaze that is both warm and intense. He’s average height, but he looms over me in this moment and in my mind.

“Hey,” I mutter quietly, suddenly unsure of how I should act. I blush. He’s very handsome. I am wishing he wasn’t in this moment.

“That’sa very pretty dress. Could you please stand up so that I can see all of it?”

Should I say yes sir? Yes Daddy? He goes by Daddy but is it too soon? I opt for silence.

I stand and turn. “Very pretty. Girl, could you step back? I would like to see all of you.”

Obeying, I do a little spin. When I am back facing him, I put my hands in my pockets and do a little shimmy, showing them off; “Look, it even has pockets!” It almost feels normal. Just me showing a friend my dress like anyone would. He even chuckles, his mouth turning upwards into a disarming grin. Awww, he’s sweet.

Slowly, he moves forward to me. I brace for his touch, but he just barely brushes a piece of hair out of my face. “We don’t want that blocking your pretty eyes do we?” Fuck. I can feel how wet I am already. This is a mistake.

“Your room is nice. I trust you cleaned it like I asked?” The mood has shifted, but there’s no way he knows. I nod, unable to make myself lie to him. “Girl, if I open this door to your closet, this is going to be clean?” I cast my eyes down as he opens up the hoard that is my closet. “Mmmmm. Just as I suspected.”

“How did you know?” I barely whisper it, ashamed of having tried to deceive him.

“I had to jump over boxes and a suitcase lying on the stairs. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.” He smiles like a wolf circled his prey. He continues to look around the room, completely ignoring me, as I stand there uncertain of what to do.

“Girl, do you have the materials I instructed you to grab?” I nod yes, once again too nervous to speak. “Show me them.” I held them up one by one, describing each one as if he doesn’t have the ability to see them. I am self-conscious about my choices and am trying to justify and show They off. He doesn’t care. “Very good. Now, grab your piece of paper and pen.” He waits for me to grab them. “Write the date at the top–I believe it is the 22nd, and then next to it write ‘Spanking from Daddy.’ Now write down, in three sections, ‘Ass,’ ‘Breasts,’ and ‘Hands’.” Hands? What did I sign up for? I thought I was just going to be spanked. Fuck, I am in over my head.

“Yes daddy” I manage to squeak out. I take to task writing them down. I am not sure why we are doing it, but I figure he will tell me when he’s ready. I really want to ask.

“Good, Girl.” Again with making my pet name so sexual. So intense. Fuck. He makes my name seem like a curse word. I smile back at him. He sits himself on the edge of my bed. “Come stand in front of me.” I move awkwardly to obey his request. “Now, why are you being paid today?”

Because I am sexually repressed, and you agreed to do it? “Uh, because I was joking around some and said I would clean my room but didn’t.”

“And?” I stall. “What else, Girl?”

“Umm. I didn’t finish any of the work I promised to do.” Why does he even care if I do my work? It doesn’t affect him.

“Yes, that’s right, Girl. You didn’t cleanYour room. You didn’t get your work done. You were rude and disrespectful to me. Is that clear?” I nod silently. “I said is that clear, Girl? Repeat it back to me what you did.”

“I didn’t do my work or clean my room, and I joked with you in a way that was rude.” As much as I love it, I can’t help but feel silly. This is ridiculous. I’m going to just obey this internet stranger. I keep shifting my weight from foot to foot until he grabs my outer thighs to keep me still.

“Girl, for the rest of this session, you are going to answer anything I say with ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Nothing else, nothing more. Do you think you can do that?” There’s a pause as he waits for me to respond.

“Yes, Daddy.” I feel small, uncertain, unconfident. So quickly, he completely took control.

“Yes, just like that. Girl, I’d like you to turn around.” I feel awkward. I’m thinking of Will Ferrel in Ricky Bobby when he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Shut up. Focus! “Very good, Girl. Put yourhands on your head. Now, you are going to stand right there, and with your hand, you are going to spank one side of your ass. Your other hand is to remain on your head at all times. I will tell you how many. You will do one side and then the other.” He pauses. “What do you say, Girl?”

“Yes, Daddy.” But it wasn’t a question. I guess I just say it Whenever.

“Good, you may begin.” I had waited for this moment for a while, but now that we are here, I feel nervous and off balance. I take my left hand and start spanking. I am fully clothed, standing in the middle of my bedroom. It’s not too late to back out. This is silly.

“One.” This isn’t so bad.

“Two.” It doesn’t even hurt.

“Ten.” I did it! This is easy. It’s kinda fun. I feel proud of myself.

“Now you are going to do the same thing on the other side.” Psh. I got this.

I count off the numbers as I spank myself ten times. So badly I wish you would touch me instead.

“Very good, Girl.” Stop saysing my name like that. “I’d like you to go over to your paper and keep count of your spankings.” Wait, I have to keep a log? Oh no. “I like you to keep a count of how many we do this session.” I finish writing. “Show me.”

“Yes Daddy,” I mumble as I grab the paper and show him.

“Very good. Set it down and grab your hairbrush.” ​​I compliantly grab it and look at you. I don’t dare move without your instruction. “Turn your back and go to where you were. Same thing as before.” I thought the whole point of this was for you to spank me.

We repeat this process again, of me spanking and you having me write down the tallies. This time, he asks for something different. “Girl, I’d like you to take your dress and tuck it in the back of your panties. I want to see your panties, but you may leave your dress down in the front.” I do as you ask. My hands are shaking because I am having some trouble, but I want to quickly please you “Very good.” I beam a little with my smile, but you can’t see me. “Same thing as before.”

I start counting to ten again, but my dress starts to slip. I go tuck it in, but your hands are there first. My skin feels like it is on fire, and you haven’t even made direct contact. My whole body tenses as you allow your hands to tuck my dress into my panties. I can feel your breath on my neck as your fingers slowly wander up my bottom, across my back, and settle on my throat. You lean in, whispering, “don’t let it fall again.” I feel like I can’t move.

“Girl, did you forget something?” In this moment, I could not even tell you where I was. I was completely captured by your presence and unable to move on. You growl my name in frustration, but I can’t move. Before I know it, you’ve grabbed me and situationed me across your lap.

“Daddy– wait–” but you are pushing my head down into the bed and making sure that I am exactly where you want me.

“Okay Girl. Since you failed to follow instructions, I guess I will simply have to take over from here.”

“I’m sorry Daddy, I just–” You cut me off.

“I said you will say ‘Yes, Daddy’ or you will say nothing. That’s the rule. You failed to do the simplest of tasks, so here I am taking care of it. That’s not fair. When you are unable to do a task, you let down everyone around you–” your lesson keeps droning on for what feels like forever, but I can only focus on the precarious position I am in. I half expected to feel your cock pushed into me, but you are a consummate professional. I, on the other hand, am not.

Without warning, your hand comes crashing down on my bottom, breaking me of my haze. A whimper escapes my lips, but it doesn’t matter as you keep raining them down on me. Once I adjust, it feels good. My whilening has stopped. I am enjoying it. Punishments aren’t so bad.

You stop hitting me and instead start rubbing my bottom. Your touch is like electricity wherever your hand goes. “Why are you being punished?”

“Daddy, I already answerred that.”

Before I know what is happening, you are smacking my bottom with a hard intensity that I have ever felt. I can feel your anger. I start wriggling and crying out, trying to escape his wrath. You start punctuating every couple of words with a hard slap. “If I” slap “asked you” slap “a question” slap “I expect you” slap “to answer” slap “it” slap.

I am begging and crying for you to stop. I am so upset I don’t even notice that you have. “Daddy I am sorry. I didn’t clean! I didn’t work!” I keep screaming them over and over until I realize you have stopped. You short struggling my hair with one hand while telling me to breathe. I didn’t realize I had panicked so much.

“Now Girl, if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer it. It doesn’t matter if I already asked it. Do you understand?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Now, why are you being punished?”

My voice cracks a little as I say, “Because I deserve it. Because you want it.”

“Mmmm, very good, Girl.”You take your hands and put them inside the waist of my panties. I think you are going to pull them down, but instead you pull them up, giving me a wedgie. “Oh Girl, you look beautiful. This shade of pink really suits you.” I feel proud. “Too bad I’m in the mood to see you dressed up in purple.” I balk at your words, but then try to remember my place. This is not my decision. It is yours.

You keep running your hands over my beaten bottom, relieving some of the pain. But then I feel your hands on my pussy. There is fabric between them, but I can feel you. You start rubbing, so close to my clip but not enough. “Oh, is my girl a little whore? Are you wet from this?” I bury my face in the mattress, humiliated at what you find. You move the panties aside and slip one finger in then a second. “Woah, you are a whore. Two fingers in with no prep?” You start wiggling your fingers around. I am clutching the mattress with all my might. It is taking every ounce of my being to stay still. You remove your fingers, scooping my wetness as you go. Your other hand grabs me by the hair and lifts my head up. “Open up, Girl.” I make a disgusted face, not wanting to taste myself. “I said open up now.” Not wanting to get in more trouble, I start to lick your fingers clean, as diligently as I would your cock. “That’s it. How do you like it?”

I should say I hate it. I should say it’s embarrassing. I should tell you to go home. Instead, “Thank you Daddy for the treatment. I very much liked it.”

“I know you did, Girl. You are very good with your tongue” and with that you release my hair. You go back to rubbing my bottom, but you ticckle my hip, causing me to laugh and stir. “What do you think is so funny?” I try explaining myself, but you say not to give excuses. I watch as you lean over and grab the hairbrush. Things are amping up.

Without much warning, you start giving me more hits, but this time, you are focusing only on the left half of my bottom. I am trying to move,but there is no way to escape your ministers. In a feat of stupidity, I move my hand to block you. Before I know it, you’ve stood me up facing you, and your scowl tells me all I need to know.

“Take it off.” You gesture vaguely at me.

“Yes Daddy.” You offer no other explanation. “Take what off Daddy?”

“Everything. You no longer require or deserve modesty.” You see me getting nervous. “Is this a hard limit for you? Would you like to pause the session? Would you like to invoke a safeword to stop?”

“But you’re punishing me.”

“I am.”

“So I can’t stop it.”

“That is absolutely not true. I want to spank you, and you deserve punishment, but it should not be so unbearable that it breaks Your boundaries.” I think I am in love with this man. I’ve never felt so safe.

“Yes Daddy.”

“To what?” You’re generally questioning me. There is no malice in your face. You want to understand.

“Yes Daddy. I’ll undress.” As I do it, you are staring atme with incredible intensity. You are pleased.

“What a confident and beautiful woman.” You are merely stating it as fact. “I am so proud of you.” I can’t look at you when compliment me. You sense my hesitation. “Look at me.” I muster up the courage to make eye contact. “Do you know why I am proud of you?” I stay silent. “I am proud of you because you made a decision. You self-reflected and made a decision that you wanted. I am not proud because I got what I wanted. I am proud because you are learning what makes you comfortable.” I can’t handle it anymore. I can feel my tears forming. “Would you like to be held for a moment?” I nod my head yes. You envelop me in your arms as you gently rub my ass, calming me down.

This combination breaks my dam, and all the tears come running down me. I am hiccuping and crying. Feelings and emotions I had bottled up are quickly coming to the surface. I am crying harder as you hold me. “Daddy please. I need this.” There’s a pause. “I need you, Daddy. Please.” As our bodies are held so tightly, I can feel your cock start to stir in your pants.

You pull my head back, facing you, maintaining eye contact. “Are you ready to continue?” I nod. “I said, are you ready to continue? Say it outloud.”

“Yes Daddy, I am ready to continue.” You lay me over your lap again, but this time, you make sure one of Your legs has trapped my own, making it impossible to move. I am still crying, but they are more trickles than sobs. You rub my ass with your right hand as you reach across me with your left. Holding my hand. An onlooker would say it’s sweet and intimate, but I know you are preventing a repeat of earlier. I choose to think it’s sweet.

But then the hairbrush starts scratching me. I go to flail and realize it isn’t sweet at all. Your hand holding is stifling me. Restricting my movement. Forcing me to stay in place. Your leg lock is impenetrable. I cannot move. There is no escape. I cry out, but there is nothing or no onethat cares. You keep going. I am counting. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. I lose count. You take small breaks, but then you get right back to it. Eventually, you stop. You go back to rubbing my bottom. It’s so tender that your rubbing hurts, but not nearly as bad as the hairbrush. I decide to keep quiet. My body is stiff and tense from the session.

“Daddy, please. I can’t do anymore.” I know the wood spoon is left. It will destroy me.

“Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes! I’ll do my stupid work.”

“So it seems you haven’t learned.” You smack me hard with the spoon. It hurts like hell, but before I can scream, I feel your fingers on my pussy. You growl in my ear, “if you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Stop Daddy please. It hurts.”

“As you wish, Girl.” You take your hand off my pussy, and I whine.

“Oh, did you want me to keep rubbing your slutty little cunt?”

“Yes Daddy.” I am trying to rub up against you for friction.

“As you wish, Girl.” Youstart rubbing my pussy again, and I close my eyes, feeling how good it feels.

CRACK. You land a hit with the wooden spoon squarely where I sit.

“FUCK DADDY! What the fuck?”

“Oh I am sorry, Girl. Did you want me to stop rubbing your pussy?” The realization dawns on me. “Let’s see if you can cum before you give up.”