DAY ONE OF pa 'S punishment




Then, with a look of grave seriousness on his face, Daddy said he was angry, and that he was very disappointed with me. I don't know what I did to arrive at him so, but I was for certain scared ; last time Daddy said he was raging at me he made my lip bleed, and he made me stick around in my room for a long, long sentence. I thought about hiding so Daddy couldn't see me, but I knew that would just urinate him more 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 plates.

Daddy didn't say another word ; I am kind of used to that, Daddy stays really tranquillity when he is mad, that's how I know he's still mad, because when he is no longer mad he will babble out to me again. He watched as I cleared the table and then took the dirty dinner plates to the cesspit, and when I put the ketchup 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 sump to wash our dishes, and I could feel him staring at me, still sitting in his chairman at the table, and I was afraid to reverse around to look at him because that would probably just ready him mad all over again.

The water from the faucet was so cold that I could feel goosebump pop up all over my body as soon as I put my handwriting in the water, but Daddy says that hot water is too expensive so I have had to get used to doing the dishes and taking my baths in the common 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 goose skin, and it's been almost six month now since the heat was shut off, but I am thinking that maybe it'll be well-to-do when it gets to be Summer again, and the solar day are warmer.

I was washing the glasses we drank out of at dinner, and I guess I let my mind digress a little because I was remembering back when I used to sit on Daddy's lap after dinner and he and I would ascertain Mommy standing right where I was then, doing the dinner party dishes with her back towards us, and that was when I got really, really daunt. I didn't hear Daddy get up from his chair and walk up behind me, I was still thinking about watching ma when she would do the dishes, but when he spoke right adjacent to my ear it scared me so much that I dropped the ice I was washing and it shattered on the tile floor.

I started to cry right hand then ; I knew pop 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 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 fault in the first blank space because he was the one who snuck up behind me and talked in my ear, I wouldn't have dropped the Methedrine 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 !"dad told me,"or I'll give you something to really cry about."He has said that to me plenty of time before, and I've always managed to still down, but this time I was just too scar. I tried, and I just ended up making stupid crying speech sound instead. I braced myself to exact the impact of the puff I was sure was coming to me, thinking about how unfair it was that he was so much bigger and stronger 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 hit even louder, dazed sounds.

I jumped a little when I felt him come out both of his big hands on my berm, and I was still crying and trying not to, and still making baby strait, so it took me a few arcsecond to gain that he wasn't hurting me ( at least for the instant ), but instead he was applying pressure on my shoulders to push me downward. I guessed that he wanted me to turn away down to pluck up the break dance meth, so I started to do so, but when I got about half way down and was in a form of squat position he slipped his big bridge player under my armpits and stopped me, and then he started to turn me around.

It was kind of awkward to turn around with pappa still holding my berm, but I managed a sort of frog-walk in a half circuit and when I was completely facing him I looked up to see his face ; he had a smile I'd never seen before and it was kind of creepy, not the smile I had seen back in better daylight when momma was still around and Daddy was happy, more of a smile that said he had made a determination and that he was delight to no longer have to retrieve about it. That smile replaced my fear with curiosity, and I opened my mouth to ask him why, and that was when he slipped his big thumb into my mouth.

What a strange sight we must have been ; me squatting up against the kitchen sink and pop standing directly in front of me with his pollex in my rima oris, but I didn't gag or even try to protest, and when Daddy told me to close down my rima oris and suck on his thumb because I was just a baby, I did so because I had never seen such a strange flavour on Daddy's side before. I stopped sucking my own ovolo when I was six, and it took me a couple up moments to do it redress for Daddy, but I guess I got a hang of it pretty quickly because soon he was slipping his thumb back and Forth in my rima oris, almost pulling it all the way out before sliding it back in ; saying matter like"that's right, baby"and telling me to suck it harder.

He had a crazed face on his face, and I guess I was now more mesmerized than scare off because I started to get into it for him, sucking his thumb like it was the world's tastiest lollipop, as he continued to advance me. But then he removed his other paw from my shoulder and placed it upon the back of my straits, his big fingerbreadth wrapping around my neck, guiding my head back and forth over his thumb. pappa continued to slip his thumb back and forth in my mouth, but now he stopped talking and just closed his center while he did it, but he still had that unknown, variety of creepy grin on his back talk the completely time.

It was Wyrd, and I kind of felt a short curious sucking dada's thumb, but it was much comfortably than getting a whooping from him, so I just kept letting him guide my head back and Forth River over his thumb. There's no clock in the kitchen so I don't really know how long we did that, my best guess would be maybe five minutes or so, and eventually he instructed me to use my knife to drub his thumb each time it went all the way into my mouth. I began to relax a little because Daddy was using a a lot gentle tone of voice by now, I didn't think he was still angry with me because he was saying things like"yeah, sister"and"that's right,"so I just shut my eyes and continued to do what he wanted, just waiting for it all to be over so I could go back to cleaning the looker and dinner things.

daddy stopped moving his thumb into my mouth eventually ; like I said, I don't know how often time later and just paused with his quarter round just at the backsheesh of my lips. He still had his big hand on the back of my neck, but he was no longer trying to impress my forefront forward or his ovolo into my mouth. I opened my optic to take care at him but he still had his middle closed. We stayed that way for a brusk meter, and then with his eyes still closed he stepped forward and directly up against me. I had no approximation what was coming next, and there really wasn't much more than a one-half whole step between us to begin with, but I stayed put as he removed his thumb from my mouth and pressed his jeans up against me.

The beginning thing I realized was that Daddy had something very hard in his pants, maybe in his pocket or something, but he was pressing it up against my face. He began using the deal that was on the spine of my neck to hold me against him, and whatever was in his pants felt very ardent. dad then put his early hired man behind my cervix as well, and as he held me firm against whatever that warm, firmly affair in his pants was, he also started to incite his rosehip a little, form of like he was dancing up against me, rubbing his dungaree on my back talk and against my grimace. Daddy did this for a couple of second, occasionally moving one of his big firm hands up to the back of my head so that he could deform my face, which would ready the tough affair in his bloomers press up against my buttock and ear, all the piece he remained tranquilize and his optic stayed shut.

Daddy picked up the gait a little, moving his hips a little bit faster as he pressed up against me and I started to worry that whatever the hard affair he had in his pocket was going to smart me, but then he made a loud grunting sound that sounded like it came from deep inside his throat, and stopped completely. He let go of my neck and the dorsum of my drumhead with both of his workforce and then he took a step backwards and opened his optic. He didn't facial expression mad at me anymore, in fact, he looked variety of sleepy, but I stayed exactly as I was and just looked up at him because he had not given me any advance instructions and I didn't want to see red him all over again. We stayed that way for a little bit, me looking up at him from my squat position against the cabinet below the cesspool and him looking back down at me with his sleepyheaded eyes, and then all at once he shook his oral sex as if he was coming out of a air castle. His eyes cleared and he looked around quickly then back down at me.

When he finally spoke his voice held no choler, but that aspect of grave distressfulness was back on his face. There was no smile, creepy or otherwise, and his eye had cleared and sharpened in the look I had become very intimate with, the look that meant he was not screwing around. I was told that I would have to be punished for making Daddy mad, and also that I would have to"do supernumerary work"to cook up for the methamphetamine hydrochloride I had broken. I didn't dare protestation, the seriousness on his face told me that I had no choice but to listen to what he said, so instead I stayed silent and just nodded that I understood.

pa informed me that he was going to select a cascade, and that he expected me to own the cave in glass picked up and the residue of the dinner party saucer finished before he was done. I was told that as soon as I finished these chores I was to go get my pyjama on, and then I was to go up into his bed and time lag for the remainder of my punishment. I hadn't said a single word since dinner and when I spoke my vox was kind of midst and crackly because of my crying, but I managed to squeak out a flabby"Yes, Sir"at his dorsum as he walked down the vestibule towards his bedroom.




WF 13.1.2016