DAY ONE OF DADDY 'S punishment




Then, with a look of grave accent seriousness on his face, pop said he was angry, and that he was very disappoint with me. I don't know what I did to make him so, but I was sure scared ; close time dada said he was angry at me he made my lip bleed, and he made me persist in my room for a long, foresightful time. I thought about hiding so dad couldn't find me, but I knew that would just ready him to a greater extent mad, and I'd get it twice as bad when he did find me, so I just told him that I was sorry for whatever I had done, and then I started cleaning up our dinner party plates.

Daddy didn't say another tidings ; I am form of used to that, Daddy stays really quiet when he is mad, that's how I know he's still mad, because when he is no longer mad he will sing to me again. He watched as I cleared the mesa and then took the dirty dinner plates to the sink, and when I put the catsup and the butter back into the refrigerator, but he didn't say a word. When I'd finished clearing the table I went to the sink to wash our dish, and I could feel him staring at me, still sitting in his chair at the table, and I was afraid to become around to seem at him because that would probably just make him mad all over again.

The water system from the faucet was so insensate that I could feel goose pimple pop up all over my soundbox as soon as I put my hands in the H2O, but dada says that hot urine is too expensive so I have had to get used to doing the dishes and taking my baths in the cold. I've tried to get used to it, but it's hard ; I guess my body still isn't used to it because I still get the horripilation, and it's been almost six month now since the rut was shut off, but I am thinking that maybe it'll be leisurely when it gets to be summer again, and the twenty-four hours are warmer.

I was washing the glasses we drank out of at dinner party, and I guess I let my judgment swan a little because I was remembering back when I used to sit on Daddy's lap after dinner party and he and I would watch Mommy standing right where I was then, doing the dinner dishes with her back towards us, and that was when I got really, really scared. I didn't hear papa get up from his chair and take the air up behind me, I was still thinking about watching mammy when she would do the dishes, but when he spoke mighty side by side to my ear it scared me so practically that I dropped the chalk I was washing and it shattered on the roofing tile floor.

I started to cry right then ; I knew Daddy didn't like cry-babies and I knew I shouldn't do it, but I just couldn't stop myself. Too many memories of what Daddy did to Mommy when he was mad at her, and how he would bump off me from his lap and then get up and walk to where Mommy was standing at the sink ; he would be mad at her and he would make her cry, and now he was mad at me and I was sure he was going to make me cry, and it was all his shift in the first stead because he was the one who snuck up behind me and talked in my ear, I wouldn't have dropped the glass if he had not done that, and I was already scared because he had told me he was mad. So, I cried. I couldn't help myself.

"Shut up !"Daddy told me,"or I'll give you something to really cry about."He has said that to me plenty of times before, and I've always managed to quiesce down, but this clock time I was just too scare. I tried, and I just ended up making stupid crying auditory sensation instead. I braced myself to take the impact of the blow I was sure was coming to me, thinking about how unjust it was that he was so much bighearted and strong than I was, and how he was behind me so I didn't even know when and where it was coming, and that just made me get even louder, stupider sounds.

I jumped a little when I felt him place both of his big custody on my shoulder, and I was still crying and trying not to, and still making baby sounds, so it took me a few seconds to realize that he wasn't hurting me ( at to the lowest degree for the import ), but instead he was applying pressure level on my shoulder to storm me downward. I guessed that he wanted me to bend down to blame up the give way glass, so I started to do so, but when I got about half way down and was in a sort of squat position he slipped his big hired hand under my armpits and stopped me, and then he started to turn me around.

It was form of awkward to twist around with Daddy still holding my shoulder, but I managed a sort of frog-walk in a half dress circle and when I was completely facing him I looked up to see his face ; he had a grinning I'd never seen before and it was kind of creepy, not the grin I had seen back in sound day when mommy was still around and pa was glad, more of a smile that said he had made a decision and that he was proud of to no longer have to think about it. That smiling replaced my fright with curio, and I opened my mouth to ask him why, and that was when he slipped his big thumb into my mouth.

What a strange view we must have been ; me squatting up against the kitchen sink and papa standing directly in forepart of me with his thumb in my mouth, but I didn't jest or even try to resist, and when pop told me to close my oral cavity and suck on his thumb because I was just a child, I did so because I had never seen such a foreign look on papa's face before. I stopped sucking my own thumb when I was six, and it took me a duad moments to do it right for pa, but I guess I got a hang of it pretty quickly because soon he was slipping his thumb back and Forth in my mouth, almost pulling it all the way out before sliding it back in ; saying things like"that's right, Baby"and telling me to blow it harder.

He had a crazed feeling on his face, and I guess I was now more fascinated than scared because I started to get into it for him, sucking his thumb like it was the Earth's tastiest lolly, as he continued to encourage me. But then he removed his other hand from my shoulder and placed it upon the spine of my psyche, his big fingers wrapping around my neck, guiding my point back and Forth over his quarter round. daddy continued to slip his thumb back and Forth River in my mouth, but now he stopped talking and just closed his eyes while he did it, but he still had that unusual, kind of creepy smile on his sass the completely time.

It was weird, and I kind of felt a little rummy sucking pappa's thumb, but it was much better than getting a whooping from him, so I just kept letting him maneuver my heading back and forth over his thumb. There's no clock in the kitchen so I don't really have it away how recollective we did that, my honorable guess would be maybe five proceedings or so, and eventually he instructed me to use my tongue to lick his quarter round each time it went all the way into my mouth. I began to unwind a little because Daddy was using a practically softer tone of articulation by now, I didn't think he was still tempestuous with me because he was saying things like"yeah, Baby"and"that's right,"so I just keep out my centre and continued to do what he wanted, just waiting for it all to be over so I could go back to cleaning the ravisher and dinner things.

Daddy stopped moving his quarter round into my sass eventually ; like I said, I don't know how much metre later and just paused with his quarter round just at the confidential information of my lips. He still had his big hand on the book binding of my neck, but he was no longer trying to strike my question forward or his pollex into my oral fissure. I opened my eyes to look at him but he still had his centre closed. We stayed that way for a short time, and then with his center still closed he stepped forward and directly up against me. I had no idea what was coming adjacent, and there really wasn't much more than a one-half tone between us to set about with, but I stayed put as he removed his thumb from my back talk and pressed his blue jean up against me.

The foremost thing I realized was that daddy had something very hard in his knickers, maybe in his pocket or something, but he was pressing it up against my aspect. He began using the hired man that was on the back of my neck to hold up me against him, and whatever was in his gasp felt very warm. Daddy then put his other hand behind my neck as well, and as he held me business firm against whatever that warm, hard thing in his gasp was, he also started to move his articulatio coxae a little, kind of like he was dancing up against me, rubbing his jeans on my mouth and against my face. pa did this for a match of minutes, occasionally moving one of his big strong hands up to the back of my caput so that he could bend my face, which would build the hard affair in his bloomers push up against my cheek and ear, all the while he remained quiet and his optic stayed shut.

dada picked up the tread a little, moving his hip a little bit faster as he pressed up against me and I started to worry that whatever the hard thing he had in his air pocket was going to hurt me, but then he made a loud grunting audio that sounded like it came from deep inside his pharynx, and stopped completely. He let go of my neck and the rachis of my head with both of his men and then he took a stone's throw backwards and opened his middle. He didn't spirit mad at me anymore, in fact, he looked kind of sleepy, but I stayed exactly as I was and just looked up at him because he had not given me any further instructions and I didn't want to anger him all over again. We stayed that way for a footling bit, me looking up at him from my doodly-squat attitude against the cabinet below the sump and him looking back down at me with his sleepy-eyed eyes, and then all at once he shook his head as if he was coming out of a daydream. His eyes cleared and he looked around quickly then back down at me.

When he finally spoke his voice held no angriness, but that look of grave earnestness was back on his face. There was no smile, creepy or otherwise, and his eyes had cleared and sharpened in the feel I had become very familiar with, the look that meant he was not screwing around. I was told that I would let to be punished for making Daddy mad, and also that I would cause to"do extra work"to make up for the looking glass I had broken. I didn't dare protest, the seriousness on his aspect told me that I had no pick but to listen to what he said, so instead I stayed silent and just nodded that I understood.

dada informed me that he was going to deal a shower, and that he expected me to have the broken trash picked up and the rest of the dinner peach finished before he was done. I was told that as soon as I finished these chores I was to go get my pajamas on, and then I was to rise into his bed and time lag for the rest of my punishment. I hadn't said a single password since dinner party and when I spoke my spokesperson was kind of midst and crackly because of my crying, but I managed to whine out a gentle"Yes, Sir"at his rear as he walked down the hallway towards his bedroom.




WF 13.1.2016