Generally in a week I have two brat days. Usually they are Wednesday and Saturday, and I have no idea why. When Love was here a week ago it was a wed. and I woke up in a instant bad mood. I tried I really did.
Through the whole day I tried to think of things that would make it better. But alas, nothing worked. On a wed. when Love isnt here, its a cleaning day full of things to keep me busy mentally and physically. Comming downstairs I found that I felt unusually lazy so I crashed on the chaise, then the chair in front of my lappy next to him.
Love tried to make conversation with me and I started to frustrate him as well. I said the word ‘no’ twice that day. Both times cringing when I did so. Being a brat (tart as Love calls it) and knowing I am is somehow three times worse. And when the day came to a close I was mentally waiting for Love to tell me to get on all fours on the chaise.
Late in the evening he told me to go to the chaise. He wondered out loud if he should cuff me and being my honest self I told him that I know that I wont be able to stay still for him, that I know that I will fight him. And I had never really fought him before so I had no idea how it was going to be. But the fight was in my eyes and I just couldn’t stop it.
While he cuffed my hands I fought and squirmed, he put the o-ring gag in my mouth and buckled it behind my head, and let me fall face down in the pillows. This was the first time I had the gag in my mouth like this. All I have to say is if your up for biting into something a o-ring gag will not do anything but hurt, bad. I fought harder and harder, jaws clenching and like an idiot I hurt myself. With my jaw clenched and me squirming the hard o-ring went into the gums behind my teeth and I pretty much screamed. He took the gag out and I really tried my best to tell him as nice as possible that it actually had hurt me, bad.
He un-cuffed me and I didn’t think but glared. I was on my first drink of the evening, taking a small sip of it I knew that it wasn’t going to help. I just needed broken. Love then told me to lay on my back and he cuffed me again, tying the cuffs to the chaise so that I would not be able to move down and off the chaise. He asked if I wanted my blindfold and I shook my head yes. I can’t tell you how many hits to each body part there were, either 5 or ten at a time. They came to my breasts, belly, thighs, and to my calves.
The pain to my calves was new, and now thinking back I know I should have started to behave right there. But of course I didn’t, I only struggled more, pushing my heels down into my beloved chaise.
Him, seeing that I was putting my pressure on my thin heels began to unbuckle them. Sitting them aside he moved his attention to the tops of my feet. Oh the horrid pain that ensued. I don’t know which spot I would have preferred but my calves definitely didn’t want the pain on them either. I struggled more and more and refused to give in to tears.
Finally he told me that I could roll over. There is more pleasure than pain when I’m laying on my belly. Feeling the flogger spread out and hit all over me is so calming in ways I myself don’t understand. The strap next, the pain being ramped up slowly finally breaking through my bratty shell. The strap hard on my skin, finishing me and I cried, saying our safety word.
He un-cuffs my hands gently, and in my struggle my blindfold had already come off. Letting me roll over he sits next to me. Telling me how id I wouldn’t have struggled so much it wouldn’t have been so bad. Knowing this already I glare at him as he continues to talk to me. And as fast as it left me the brat came back. I didn’t want told what I had done wrong, I only wanted to be told that I was a good girl.
He set his jaw hard and I saw the sympathy leave his eyes. He told me to lay on my belly again. I glared at him again and laid down. There was no ramping of hits now. There was only hard punishing pain to be felt.
My willpower caved again, crying continuing. And I said the safety again after he had worked down my body to my feet. I had enough, I was a blubbering pile of what is sub. He quickly and quietly put everything away and put the box back. I went to him then, curling into him. And we talked. Once again being the loving dirty little girl to him. My love for him so strong.
That day I needed to struggle, to push his limits, and once it was over I felt so much better. His once again.
