DAY ONE OF DADDY 'S PUNISHMENT




Then, with a look of grave seriousness on his face, Daddy said he was furious, and that he was very disappointed with me. I don't know what I did to make him so, but I was certainly scared ; cobbler's last time pa said he was angry at me he made my lip bleed, and he made me rest in my room for a long, hanker time. I thought about hiding so daddy couldn't find me, but I knew that would just draw 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 party plates.

Daddy didn't say another Good Book ; I am kind of used to that, papa 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 talk to me again. He watched as I cleared the table and then took the dirty dinner plates to the sinkhole, 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 sink to wash our looker, and I could palpate him staring at me, still sitting in his chair at the table, and I was afraid to turn around to look at him because that would probably just piss him mad all over again.

The piddle from the faucet was so cold that I could finger goose skin pop up all over my dead body as soon as I put my helping hand in the piss, but papa says that hot water is too expensive so I have had to get used to doing the cup of tea and taking my bath in the cold. I've tried to get used to it, but it's hard ; I guess my organic structure still isn't used to it because I still get the goose pimple, and it's been almost six months now since the heat was shut off, but I am thinking that maybe it'll be easier when it gets to be Summer again, and the days are warmer.

I was washing the looking glass we drank out of at dinner, and I guess I let my judgement wander a picayune because I was remembering back when I used to sit on dada's lap after dinner and he and I would watch mum standing right where I was then, doing the dinner dishes with her back towards us, and that was when I got really, really scare off. I didn't hear pappa get up from his electric chair and walk up behind me, I was still thinking about watching mamma when she would do the dishes, but when he spoke right succeeding to my ear it scared me so much that I dropped the glass I was washing and it shattered on the tile floor.

I started to cry ripe then ; I knew papa 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 transfer me from his lap and then get up and walk to where Mommy was standing at the sinkhole ; he would be mad at her and he would cook her cry, and now he was mad at me and I was sure he was going to create me cry, and it was all his break in the first-class honours degree place because he was the one who snuck up behind me and talked in my ear, I wouldn't have dropped the shabu 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 !"pa told me,"or I'll give you something to really cry about."He has said that to me batch of metre before, and I've always managed to quiet down, but this clock time I was just too scared. I tried, and I just ended up making stupid crying sounds instead. I braced myself to take the impact of the shock I was for certain was coming to me, thinking about how unfair it was that he was so practically full-grown 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 take in even gaudy, stupid sounds.

I jumped a piddling when I felt him site both of his big custody on my articulatio humeri, and I was still crying and trying not to, and still making infant sounds, so it took me a few seconds to clear that he wasn't hurting me ( at least for the mo ), but instead he was applying pressure on my shoulders to force me downward. I guessed that he wanted me to deflect down to pick up the fall in deoxyephedrine, so I started to do so, but when I got about half way down and was in a variety of squat position he slipped his big men under my armpits and stopped me, and then he started to turn me around.

It was kind of awkward to release around with Daddy still holding my shoulders, but I managed a sort of frog-walk in a half circle and when I was completely facing him I looked up to see his look ; he had a smiling I'd never seen before and it was sort of creepy, not the smile I had seen back in good days when Mommy was still around and Daddy was happy, more of a smile that said he had made a conclusion and that he was pleased to no longer have to think about it. That grin 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 unknown raft we must possess been ; me squatting up against the kitchen cesspit and papa standing directly in front of me with his thumb in my mouth, but I didn't jape or even try to protest, and when Daddy told me to close up my sass and suck on his thumb because I was just a baby, I did so because I had never seen such a strange flavour on dad's face before. I stopped sucking my own thumb when I was six, and it took me a distich minute to do it right for pa, but I guess I got a hang of it pretty quickly because soon he was slipping his quarter round 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 feeling on his face, and I guess I was now more spell-bound than frightened because I started to get into it for him, sucking his thumb like it was the earth's tastiest popsicle, as he continued to encourage me. But then he removed his other hand from my shoulder and placed it upon the back of my head, his big fingers wrapping around my neck, guiding my head back and Forth River over his thumb. Daddy continued to drop away his thumb back and forth in my mouth, but now he stopped talking and just closed his eyes while he did it, but he still had that strange, kind of creepy smile on his lips the unhurt time.

It was weird, and I form of felt a little rum sucking papa's thumb, but it was much better than getting a whooping from him, so I just kept letting him maneuver my drumhead back and forth over his thumb. There's no clock in the kitchen so I don't really know how retentive we did that, my advantageously guess would be maybe five minutes or so, and eventually he instructed me to use my tongue to lick his thumb each time it went all the way into my mouth. I began to relax a little because pop was using a very much softer tone of voice by now, I didn't think he was still angry with me because he was saying things like"yeah, baby"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 beauty and dinner things.

pa stopped moving his thumb into my mouth eventually ; like I said, I don't fuck how much prison term later and just paused with his thumb just at the tips of my mouth. He still had his big hand on the back of my neck opening, but he was no longer trying to incite my head forward or his thumb into my lip. I opened my eyes to look at him but he still had his eyes closed. We stayed that way for a short prison term, and then with his eyes still closed he stepped forward and directly up against me. I had no idea what was coming following, and there really wasn't much more than a one-half measure between us to set about with, but I stayed put as he removed his thumb from my mouth and pressed his dungaree up against me.

The beginning thing I realized was that daddy had something very hard in his gasp, maybe in his sac or something, but he was pressing it up against my face. He began using the hand that was on the backrest of my cervix to hold me against him, and whatever was in his pants felt very ardent. Daddy then put his other hand behind my neck as well, and as he held me business firm against whatever that warm, concentrated thing in his pants was, he also started to affect his hips a little, variety of like he was dancing up against me, rubbing his jeans on my mouth and against my face. Daddy did this for a couple of minutes, occasionally moving one of his big strong hands up to the rachis of my header so that he could turn my boldness, which would make the intemperate matter in his pants entreat up against my buttock and ear, all the while he remained placid and his eyes stayed shut.

dad picked up the rate a piddling, moving his hips a little bit faster as he pressed up against me and I started to occupy that whatever the heavy matter he had in his sack was going to hurt me, but then he made a garish grunting strait that sounded like it came from deep inside his throat, and stopped completely. He let go of my neck opening and the book binding of my principal with both of his bridge player and then he took a step backwards and opened his eyes. He didn't flavor 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 piffling bit, me looking up at him from my stumpy position against the storage locker below the sink and him looking back down at me with his sleepy eyes, and then all at once he shook his head as if he was coming out of a reverie. His eyes cleared and he looked around quickly then back down at me.

When he finally spoke his voice held no anger, but that look of grave seriousness was back on his case. There was no grinning, creepy or otherwise, and his eyes had cleared and sharpened in the look I had become very familiar 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 extra employment"to make up for the chalk I had broken. I didn't dare protest, the distressfulness on his aspect told me that I had no choice but to take heed to what he said, so instead I stayed silent and just nodded that I understood.

Daddy informed me that he was going to take a shower bath, and that he expected me to have the broken deoxyephedrine picked up and the rest of the dinner dishes 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 climb into his bed and wait for the rest of my punishment. I hadn't said a single Book since dinner and when I spoke my representative was form of midst and crackly because of my call, but I managed to screak out a sonant"Yes, Sir"at his backbone as he walked down the hall towards his bedroom.




WF 13.1.2016