Daddy and I have had rope in the box for a while, two very long lengths of it. I have been getting into it. Looking up on how to tie properly, how to store it properly, how to bind but not bruise so bad. Craving for it a night or two here and there. Wanting to see the marks on my skin that the rope leaves like the red marks that cover my skin after a good impact play.
Daddy had seen the pictures, I had sent them to him. Like a woman leaves hints about getting engaged, I left the laptop open on certain pages, emailed him pictures. I wanted him to tie me up and have our impact play. He knows how much I squirm and sometimes I don’t even mean to as much as I really do. Most times I know how badly I really need it.
We put a blanket over the top of the coffee table and had me get on my hands and knees and he started tying each part of me down. And he has let me put my ball gag in before he has started this and silly me tries to tell him how to tie with it in. Hah! I get told to hush as he continues to tie me. I struggle against my ties but thats just me. And then he gets out the flogger, my love and hate relationship with it. I feel its sting on me and I love the feeling as it spreads on my skin. My back and bottom. I know Daddy knows how much I love the floggings, but today he doesn’t stay with it very long.
He slides the smooth leather of the paddle over my skin and I shake and try to move away from it. NO my mind thinks to itself, no I’m not ready for this, go back… you cant possibly stop the flogging just on my back and bottom. But Daddy has other thoughts and as I try to talk through my gag he starts with it. Making me swear at him making me whimper and purr when he touches the reddened skin. Then he does something I detest, he rests the paddle between my cheeks and tells me not to let it fall and steps back and takes a picture. Making my face flash bright red. Humiliation in its worst. I’m softly cursing at him now badly
I don’t remember him taking the strap to my skin. I do know that then he went to his hand. Artfully telling me that he remembered me saying on my tumblr on how some little girls Daddy made her bottom so red from his hand. I don’t know if I would call what I got then a spanking. It was stronger, with the meaning of him getting my bottom just as red as the other little girls had been. Between smacks he feels if I am wet but my mind is working more than my body, my mind making it worse than it really is. He finishes with two large smacks, one to each cheek. The ones that make me scream and tears instantly streaming down my face and I uncontrollably sob. He told me one cheek had a definite hand print but at the time they both hurt the same.
I will not go into detail on this part because I don’t like it. It’s not something that I want to do alot of. Daddy had picked up some cloths pins. *chills* He wanted to try it. My opinion was nothing but the word no from the go. But we have always said that from the start that we would at least try some things that would be new to us. This was borderline crazy to me.
I almost posted more pictures, but I just cant do it. *holds breasts in hands and closes up legs tight* Not doing it anytime soon, caused more mental damage than good.
