I follow his lead and lie over his lap. My bottom is centered over his lap, my legs dangling off the bed, my head and torso lying across the bed. I feel his right leg wrap around and over both of my legs, trapping me. He places his left hand on my lower back. The humiliation that I feel overwhelms me, but not as much as the overwhelming feeling of love that pours from Daddy’s words. I feel the tears start to pool in my eyes.
“Baby girl, I am going to give you a punishment spanking. This is going to hurt. I want it to hurt as much as your unkind words toward yourself hurt my heart,” he says. I feel his large, strong hand come down hard on my bottom. He continues, “I will not” spank “tolerate” spank “you” spank “berating” spank “yourself” spank “anymore” spank “baby girl.” Spank spank spank. His hand comes down quickly and harshly on my bottom, each spank stinging more than the previous one.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, stop. I’ll be good,” I say, wanting the spanking to end.
He continues, “You are a beautiful woman, my beautiful baby girl.” Spank spank spank “Your cruel words hurt me.” Spank spank spank “They hurt you too.” Spank spank spank
“Daddy, my bottom hurts, please stop,” I beg, feeling the tears stream down my face. “Please, I’m sorry. Stop! Stop! Please!” I cry out. The tears come more frequently and, before long, I am sobbing uncontrollably. I try to twist away from his hand, but I am being firmly held down and have very little wiggle room.
After a few more spanks on my now hot and stinging bottom, Daddy stops. He pauses for a moment, rubbing my bottom. “Stand up, baby girl.” I slowly roll off of his lap and stand up in front of him. He pulls my pants and panties down to my ankles and orders, “Step out, baby.” I comply. He proceeds to take the rest of my clothes off, after which he stands in front of me. He towers over me and I look up at his face. It is a mixture of anger, sadness, and love. His eyes staring into my tear-filled ones. I am standing naked before him and I feel more exposed than ever. I start to squirm, feeling uncomfortable, my bottom still stinging from his punishment.
“Come,” he says, taking my hand. He leads me to the corner of the bedroom and puts me right up to it. “Hands at your sides, no rubbing your bottom. You stand here for five minutes with your nose in the corner. While you are standing here, I want you to hear my voice saying these words.” He pauses. “You are my beautiful baby girl, the beautiful woman that I love. I will not tolerate any disparaging remarks about yourself,” he says with a mixture of firmness and sweetness.
I feel Richard kiss the back of my head and hear him walk away. I stand in the corner, tears streaming down my face, my red, hot bottom reminding me of my punishment.
After a few minutes, I feel Richard stand behind me. He takes my hand in his and says, “Come with me.” I follow him as he leads me to stand in front of the full-length mirror near the closet.
He stands behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I look at him in the mirror looking into my eyes. “Baby girl, I want you to look at yourself in this mirror.” I start to squirm, feeling very uncomfortable in my nakedness, as he stands fully clothed behind me. “Stop squirming. Listen to me and look at yourself in the mirror.” His commanding voice fills the room.
I see him reach down and softly stroke my left leg with his hand. “Look at the beautiful definition in your legs. I can see the calf muscles under your soft and smooth skin,” he says as I watch him in the mirror. He straightens, sliding his hand up my leg, placing his hands on my hips. “Your hips are rounded, showing me that you are a woman. A beautiful woman with curves. So feminine. Your hips flare out from your waist. It gives you that hourglass shape.” He glides his hands over my waist then moves them to my stomach. I stiffen as he touches me there.
“Your tummy is soft, slightly rounded. Do you know how much I love that? It’s beautiful. You are soft like a woman should be.” He says this as his hands stroke my stomach back and forth, painstakingly slowly. His hands slide up to my breasts, trapping my arms within his hold. He cups his hands under them and lifts them up, holding them reverently. He stares into my eyes and says, “Your breasts are so round and beautiful. I love the color of your nipples. They are reddish-brown and so large. Your breasts fit perfectly in my hands. Your breasts reveal how aroused you get when I touch you,” he purrs in my ear. His thumbs rub my nipples as his other fingers cradle my breasts. My breath hitches as my nipples become erect from his touch.
After a few minutes, he lets go of my breasts and places his hands over my chest above my breasts. Both hands slide to the left, right over my heart. “Right here, this is what I love the most about your body. Under my hands beats your kind and generous heart. Everything you do comes from your heart. I am constantly amazed at your authenticity and strength. It all comes from here.” His hands slightly rub my chest, his words covering me like a warm blanket. His voice is so low, almost whispers as he says these words. The most beautiful words ever spoken to me.
His left hand stays over my heart as his right hand comes to my face, his fingers barely touching my lips. “And here, your beautiful lips. So full and soft. Every time I kiss your lips, I feel your passion and love. So sensuous and sexy. How can this beautiful mouth ever say such ugly and hateful things? Never do I hear cruel words come out of your mouth about anyone but yourself. I can’t stand it, Siobhan. I won’t tolerate it. Your hate toward yourself is unacceptable to me and I will have this exact same conversation with you every day for the rest of your life until you believe me. Until your heart,” he rubs my chest again, “finally feels love for yourself. How can you not love this beautiful body?” he asks, looking at me in the mirror. I watch his eyes slowly move over each part of my body. It feels like his eyes are undressing me, even though I am already naked. My heart fills with love, his love for me.
Both of his hands slide up to my head, his fingers going through my hair until his hands cradle both sides of my head. “Your brain needs to believe what I am telling you, Siobhan. You need to learn to love yourself and see yourself the way I do. Do you understand what I am saying, baby girl?” he asks, turning me to face him.
I can barely find my voice as I croak, “Yes, I understand you. I hear what you are saying to me, but it is very hard for me to believe it.” The tears start again, caused by a much deeper pain than from my spanked bottom.
“I know it is, baby, and I am going to help you. Every time hateful words or disparaging remarks come out of your mouth, I will lead you to the bedroom and put you over my knee. I will spank the cruelty out of you and leave you feeling nothing but a burning bottom until the words I say burn in your brain. You are a beautiful woman. You are my beautiful woman, my beautiful baby girl, my beautiful lover, my beautiful submissive, my beautiful soon-to-be wife. I love all of you and I see nothing but beauty when I look at you,” he says, cradling my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping my tears away. His soft touch making me feel his love.
Tears fill up my eyes again as I look into his soulful eyes. I finally understand what it means when someone looks at you with love. Love is all I see in his eyes. His love is reflected back to me and for me. It’s overwhelming. I can barely find my voice. “I will try to see what you see, Daddy. Thank you for loving me.”
“Always, baby girl. Always. Now let me show you how much I love you by taking care of you,” he says as he takes my hand once again and leads me to the bathroom. “I’ll run us a bath, baby,” he whispers as he starts to take his shirt off.
* * *
I feel baby kisses on my face as I slowly awaken the next morning. Opening my eyes, I see Daddy staring down at me. Before I can speak, his finger slides over my lips. “Shhh, baby girl, don’t speak,” he says, kissing me softly on my temple.
“After you fell asleep, I stayed up half of the night thinking about your self-hatred. The root of this is, I know, because of your terrible upbringing. You lacked not only love, but also kind words telling you that you are worthy and beautiful. Part of my responsibility as your Daddy Dom is
to teach you that you are loved, worthy, and beautiful. You are my precious baby girl, the love of my life and the reason for my existence.”
He continues. “Today you will have a discipline session. This is not punishment, like you experienced last night. Discipline is about correcting and teaching. You will have a full day of scheduled activities. Some of those activities will be difficult for you. Some of them you won’t want to do, but you will do them anyway. You will submit to my discipline, baby girl. And you will learn. After today, I would expect that any negative thoughts about yourself will be quickly extinguished long before they are ever uttered from your lips.”
“Let me explain to you what will happen today. As your Daddy, I will have complete control over you. All of your adult rights and responsibilities will be suspended for the next twenty-four hours. Once I put your baby girl collar on you, the discipline session will begin.
I am taking away your speech. You will have a binkie in your mouth for the entire time, unless I replace it with a bottle or spoon to feed you or give you permission to speak. I am going to give you a bath to wash you clean. I will put you in diapers and plastic panties and that is all you will wear for the session. No clothes are allowed. You will use your diapers for their intended purpose and you will sit in wet diapers until I am ready to change you.
After I feed you breakfast, you will receive your first spanking of the day. You will be spanked several times throughout the day, before bedtime and to end the session when you wake up tomorrow. Each spanking session will have a purpose; it is not spanking for punishment. You will understand more once we get into it.
Today, I will put you down for a nap in your crib and you will sleep in your crib overnight tonight. I will control all of your activities today and they will all be designed to adjust your self-image. You are restricted from watching TV, using the computer, or reading on your Kindle. You will do what I want, when I want. You will go where I want and stay there until I move you.
Before we begin, I will give you one opportunity to speak, only to ask questions. Once I place this binkie in your mouth, that is it until tomorrow morning. Do you understand, baby girl?”
“Yes, Daddy, I understand everything you said. It sounds to me like it is a punishment, even though you said it wasn’t.” I hope saying that does not make him angry with me.
“It is not punishment, baby girl, be assured,” he continues. “The goal is to teach, to train you. The focus of that teaching and training is on your self-image. Your self-hatred runs deep and I want to retrain you. That is the purpose of this discipline session.”
Without much opportunity to think about it, I decide to put my faith and trust in Daddy. I know he loves me and wants what is best for me. “Okay, Daddy. I’m ready for my discipline session.”
“Good girl,” he says, kissing my forehead. He holds the pink pacifier in his hand, placing it in my mouth. Twenty-four hours of no talking. Given that Daddy is the one who always wants to communicate and I would rather not discuss things, I don’t see how this is discipline. To me, it seems like a gift. “Come with me, baby. It’s bath time now.”
* * *
Now I see why the no-talking rule is so effective. No talking also means no arguing. No pleading or crying. No begging for a spanking to stop. No complaining about my cramped hand. No ability to communicate. I had to trust in Daddy entirely for all of my needs. Everything from eating to scratching my nose. It was so frustrating.
This is what my twenty-four–hour discipline session consisted of:
9:00: Daddy gave me a bath. An erotic bath. He brought me to the edge of orgasm, but I was not allowed to have it. I hate orgasm tease and denial. I thought he said this wasn’t punishment!
10:00: Breakfast. This consisted of me being bound into a high chair, unable to use my hands. Daddy fed me oatmeal. I hate oatmeal and I couldn’t even complain about it. Juice, lots of juice fed to me from a bottle.
10:30: Spanking. Between every spank, Daddy said, “You are my beautiful girl.” After my bottom was burning from his hard hand, he put me in the corner and told me he wanted me to repeat this mantra in my head, “I am a beautiful girl.” I did as he asked, although I really did not feel it.
10:45: Sitting on a sore bottom at my desk to write lines and complete a writing assignment. One hundred lines of “I will learn to love myself. I will learn to love my body.” Writing assignment: “List fifty positive things about yourself.” Crap! That was a hard one. I found myself repeating things. When Daddy read it, he crossed out the repeats and made me rewrite the list until I had fifty positive things, none repeated.
12:00: Lunch time followed by nap time. Interestingly enough, I did not feel ticked off about nap time, which I normally would. I was emotionally exhausted from this morning’s activities so a nap was welcome. I drifted off soon after my head hit the pillow.
1:30: Back at my desk, writing out Rule #10, “I will not make negative, berating, or disparaging remarks about myself.” Written 100 times in my training journal. My hand was so cramped up after this assignment, I never wanted to hold a pen in my hand again. Do not let anyone tell you that writing lines is an easy thing to do. It is not!
2:30: Back over Daddy’s knee for 100 spanks. With each spank, he recited my rule, “You will not make negative, berating, or disparaging remarks about yourself.” After my spanking, I was put back in the corner and told to repeat my rule as a mantra, over and over again. I did this partly because it helped me to not think about my very hot and stinging bottom, but also because I really want to make Daddy happy. I really want to please him. He is doing all of this for a reason, even if I don’t completely get it.
3:30: Now this was the most interesting thing yet. Daddy took me into his BDSM playroom. My heart started to beat faster when we entered the room. Maybe my weekend as a slave would happen after all. I was really looking forward to trying something new and submitting to Daddy in new and different ways. This was not to be, however.
On the floor there was a big piece of sheet plastic and a large, long piece of white paper over it.
Daddy ordered me to lie on the paper and proceeded to use a pencil to outline my body on the paper. I remember thinking that this was very weird and could not imagine what he had planned. After he finished outlining me, he told me to get up and kneel beside the paper. “Baby girl, earlier today I asked you to write out fifty positive things about yourself.” He held my training journal in his hand, open to the page with this list. “I want you to interpret this list on your body.” He pointed to the outlined paper on the floor. “I want you to show me these positive things using those finger paints. Do you understand the task?”
I nodded my head affirmatively. I had no idea how to do this though. Finger paint. I hate getting crap on my hands. Daddy knows this. I embraced my inner child and got to work.
On my list, I wrote that I had a generous heart, so I took some red finger paint and drew a heart on myself. I made it big and colored it all in red.
Okay. I sort of got this now. I took the black paint and went over the pencil marks, outlining myself better. I painted a brain inside the outline of my head to interpret “I am smart” from the list. I painted in my hands to interpret “I use my hands to do good in the world.”
After the paint dried on my hands, I painted little globes over them to clarify that. And so my painting continued until I ran out of ideas. In the end, my hands were covered in paint. There were paint smears and splatters all over me too. My breast somehow got some yellow paint on it. My diapers had several colors. I felt juvenile. I felt light. I felt happy.
Daddy came into the room quite a while later and commented that he loved my painting. He gave me a bath and then fed me dinner. By this time, it was almost 8:00 and I was exhausted. Daddy could see it and told me that he was going to put me to bed. Before this however, I got my final spanking. This spanking hurt worse than the others, probably because it was on top of the others today. So as I said, I was in my crib, contr
ite and well punished for my naughtiness. Even though Daddy told me it was not punishment, it was a discipline session, my sore tushy told me otherwise. It felt like punishment.
The next morning, Daddy came into my nursery and got me up. He told me my speech restriction was over and that he wanted to spend the morning talking about yesterday. So after breakfast, I sat on his lap and tried to articulate my feelings about yesterday. In the end, I get what he tried to do. I have to see myself in a more positive light. I have to embrace who I am and how I look. I have to accept myself for who I am and remember that I am loved for who I am. It was an emotional journey toward acceptance.
* * *
So our lives continue. We stay busy with wedding plans as the date quickly approaches. We live each day and settle into a comfortable routine. Two weeks before the wedding, Daddy asks me to sit down with him on the couch.
“Sweetie, I have been thinking a lot about us, our relationship, and our commitment to one another. Our relationship is one based on mutual respect and trust. It is also one in which you submit to me, you allow me to dominate you. In that domination, I am able to be restrictive and punishing. I am also able to be nurturing and loving. We have a Dominance/submission relationship and it fulfills the both of us. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Daddy, absolutely. I’m so happy with you. I love you and I love submitting to your dominance. This life is everything I ever could have imagined for myself,” I respond.
“I agree 100%. This life is wonderful and you are my everything. In your submission to me, you give all of yourself to me in a deep commitment toward our unique lifestyle. Through your submission, I am able to have the control and authority over you, which fulfills my deep need to care for and nurture you. These are also qualities in a Master. You may not call yourself a ‘slave,’ but your deference to my will and your willingness to follow my rules and obey me are qualities in a slave. It just so happens I refer to myself as your Daddy Dom and you refer to yourself as baby girl. The only real difference I see is that you wear a diaper instead of a corset and high heels.” He laughs. “Do you understand what I am saying?”
Obediently Yours Page 17
