3 P's ~ Punishment-pain-perfection

Daddy was highly upset with me, he said, for taking on the idea that I would only provide asterisks for everything on EP, following their removal of my avatar piccie the other day. Daddy ordered me to write about what happened that morning when he punished me, and told me that part of my punishment was to publish it for everyone to see what a naughty little girl and her Daddy must have to go through in order for her to learn her lesson. So hopefully, this will make Daddy happy and his little girl's many readers happy to get to read here. She is very very sorry for being so willful, she will try to be a better **** from now on, and she loves Daddy very very much.

Daddy was so angry for my having been so willful and said that "little things have been leading up to this." That morning, when he got home from work, he came in the room, and promptly ordered me off the computer entirely. I balked a bit, but I already knew I was in for some sort of punishment. He just gave me that look he does when I started to say something, and I knew to keep my little **** mouth shut until told to do otherwise.

He ordered me to take off the udder harness and panties I had put on to meet him when he came in. I slid them off, stealing a moment to look up as the fabric of the tiny panties closed the distance between my thighs and feet. I wanted to present my side of the argument, that EP had no right to get rid of my lovely avatar, that so many were saying the liked it, that HE'D even said he liked it, when he saw it. But I'd never gotten permission to even put it up in the first place. Daddy's very strict about that. But he'd let it slide. And I guess that was one of those many "little things," that he said were "leading up to this..." this moment. I realise then, there was no argument. I was his little **** and I'd been bad to disobey him, and not even ask his permissions. He took me into the walk-in closet where the dresser in there holds a few of the more mundane sorts of toys he likes to use on the slutflesh. He fished the purple neoprene and glass "nipple bulbs," and told me to "open," obviously meaning the slutmouth. I looked at him, and did as he commanded. He placed each of the glassed ends of the tube of the things on the **** tongue, rolling each around a bit, before grabbing first one and then the other udder, and putting the nipple bulbs on each teat. We both watched as the vacuum of the tube sucked them in deep, and then he slid the little rubbber rings off the tubes and onto the now-distended nipples, leaving them captured, dark reddsish, swollen and sticking straight out. Then when he could see how in pain I was, he put the udder harness back on, leaving the nipples swollen and ringed before he ordered me to lock my fingers together behind my back. He got behind me, and then cuffed my wrists behind my back, and ordered me to "open that slutty mouth." Again, I did as I was told, realising this was becoming increasingly intriguing to witness, and had I not been such an intimate partcipant, I would've better enjoyed the view of it all.

Reaching around, he shoved the big, hard pinkish **** gag down the **** throat before buckling the straps tight at the back of my head. I already knew from one particular experience where Daddy gagged and whipped me for being very bad, that when the gag comes out along with the short whip, once the pain starts, I'll be glad I can't talk. Then he pushed me over onto the bed head first, and he used his feet to kick at the insides of my feet, telling me to "open those **** thighs wide" for him. Then he told me to stay still, which, of course, I did, sniffling the whole time while I waited to learn my fate for my transgressions.

He came back a few minutes later, and I heard the unmistakable "pop" of the top of ID Lube bottle, before I felt the coolness coating first the asscunt hole and then the drip and drizzle of it down the open slutcunt hole. I thought I knew what was coming next, but I wasn't really ready for the shock of the biggest toy being shoved without ceremony into the tight little asscunt hole. I wanted to tell him to please stop, to please have mercy, to beg his forgiveness for being so willful and bad while he was gone at work, but the thick **** he'd shoved and filled the sluthroat with only let me make little pitiful whimper noises instead. I well know that the sounds of my suffering at his hands makes Daddy hard, and all he wants then is to hear more of the same. Daddy loves to know he can make me suffer for him. So I lay, head first, into the bed sheets, feeling the horrible thick, unforgiving toy forcing its nasty way deeper and deeper into the poor asscunt, until finally, thankfully, the tapered bit let the stretched flesh close up a bit.

Daddy seemed pleased with himself, as I heard him say "There, that's better." And I thought it was all over with but the crying, when I remembered he was careful to make sure that both the slutty holes got a good helping of the lube slickness. So no sooner had I remembered this than I felt the second toy plunge into the sluthole depths with as much force as Daddy could provide without sending the toy all the way through to the belly button. I winced and tried not to make more than a peep, as I felt the tears sopping into the sheets beneath my buried face. Now so fully plugged in the one hole, the thin layer of flesh between the two slutholes let both toys press for purchase, and again I was thankful when I felt the tapered bit of the training toy allow the slutflesh to close around it. I tried to sniffle, feeling the **** spit being drawn up onto the **** tongue, and pressing against the back of my teeth, trying to ooze out and mingle with the tears already home to the sheets beneath me. My hair was sticking to my face by then, and I nearly didn't feel when Daddy thumped first the asscunt plug and then the slutcunt one. He likes to do that, once they're in. He made another sound of satisfaction, in a sigh, and again, I thought the worst was over.

I had no idea.

I still can't decide if I heard it before I felt it, but I'm usually like that afterwards, recalling the terror that fills my ears as I hear the multi-tailed short-handled black whip slice first through the air above me, and then, inevitably, into the bared slutflesh. Only this time, it wasn't just a bare upturned **** *** that caught its evil attentions, but the entire underside of me. The assunt and all the bare, tender flesh, stretched tight with the plug screamed silently for mercy just in time to feel the slutcunt filled full and stretched the same, receive a similar grouping of very hard, very precisioned sadistic kisses from the horrible whip.

It was then that I decided I was going to scream, and I didn't care, the consequences of my action. Let me rephrase that. I didn't DECIDE to scream, I decided I could no longer NOT scream, because the heat and pain and horrible suffering I was experiencing at the hands of my Daddy the punisher in all this, my disciplinarian, who had every right to see to the minstrations of all of this, was somewhere beyond my comprehension. Nothing made much sense as the pain filled my fantasies, shattering reality, splintering my dreams of little girl spankings for being naughty. This was pure and unadulterated evil, bewitching, soul engulfing pain. And I could not, much as I wanted, much as I willed it... I could not manage to sink into that sweet nothingness we subbie ***** call "subspace." The feeling was too real, too raw and two defined in its intention to allow me that simple escape to **** nirvana. And so I started to let it just wash over me, the pain, the humiliation at realising that Daddy was teaching me an invaluable lesson and that is when I realised he'd been talking to me the whole time.

"You will learn," he was saying, obviously struggling to keep from permanently damaging his property while he disciplined it fully, "one way or another," the whip sliced through a particularly tender bit of slutcunt flesh, seeming to wrap around the very **** in its meaning to destroy my will to find solace in all this punishment, "that when I say you will answer to me," now the terrible tendrils were kissing evil heat onto the stretch of the asscunt again, "you WILL answer to me," as the word "WILL was emphasised by another round of screaming stings to the whole *** and then the open inside of the **** thighs. I didn't even know that Daddy could BE so sadistic. For the entire time, though I could tell he was very upset, and working hard to control his anger to maintain his position as loving disciplinarian, I could also tell, just from the sound of his voice, and the way his breathing was short and shallow, then deep and driven, he was proper enjoying his work, such as it was.

I wanted the whippings to end. I NEEDED the whippings to end. I needed Daddy to love me again, to pick me up in his arms and tell me I was a good girl. But I knew now there'd be none of that, at least until he was sure that his **** knew her place and KNEW when he said something, he wasn't ******* around. The whipping, the pain, the agony, it continued, until I was sure I would pass out.

Then he said, "If you think you've actually learned your lesson," I suddenly realised the whippings had stopped. I was grateful for that, and even though he could neither see my face, tearstained and sighing for the end of the punishment, nor hear me say as much to him, with the **** gag pressing the very depths of the **** throat so completely, I knew Daddy knew his little girl was so grateful it was over.

"if you think you have learned something finally," he continued,

Oh yes! Yes, Daddy! I wanted to say to him, wanted to flip over, drag my poor hurting self up to his waist, beg to suck his **** down the filthy **** throat for him, anything to show him how happy I was I was his little girl, and had learned so much from him from his punishment, but in my position, with the feet so far apart, head pressed to one side, face caught up in the sheets, tears and **** spit caking my hair to my face, the udders beneath me, with cuffed wrists behind me... bent like that to his will, I could do nothing but listen as next he said, "then this will be the last 20."

I couldn't believe he wasn't done with me yet! I couldn't believe he couldn't be done!

And what's more, there was to be an added bonus this time, "and I want to hear you count loud and clear, before thanking me for each of this final 20, ****."

How was I to do that, count "loud and clear," stuffed so deeply, so fully with the thick **** gag, meant for just that purpose, of keeping a little **** from being ABLE to voice her thoughts openely. That rather goes without saying (no pun intended, truly).

...And thank him? How could I bring myself to thank him for such pure misery that was to carry over beyond my owned assumed call of duty?

"Do you think you can do that for me, Daddy's little girl? Do you think you can be Daddy's good filthy little **** and count the last 20?" I could hear the love in his lilt of thoughtfulness just then, and I found myself nodding, rather FELT myself nodding.

What I found myself doing was drooling everywhere, as the final 20 began.

"One," I mumbled, as well I could through the thick horrid **** gag, and steadied for number "two."

A hard swat suddenly sliced over my bare spine. "What did you forget to say, ****?" came his words as I reasoned with why he'd just hit me in a place he'd not hit me until just then for this lesson.

"Thank you." I replied, rather mechanically. The infernal **** of the gag was unmoving, fought with the slippery teeth and **** tongue as they attemped to get parcel around the "Th" in the sentence.

He laughed, and slapped me again, now on the upturned, raw left *** cheek. "Thank you what?" he asked, slapping it a second time, for good measure, I guess.

"Thank you, Daddy," I returned, again struggling to make myself understood well enough not to get a third strike to the butt.

"That's better." he told me. "Now then, we'll start again, and see if we can get through all 20 this time."

And with that, the whip spun through the air, I could hear it, before its ends were brought down hard and full across the sore and screaming **** **** lips.

"One," I worked hard between sucked breaths through the nose, taking care not to get tears up my nostrils in an attempt to breathe better, "Thank you Daddy."

"There," Daddy said. "That's my good filthy little girl."

At the end of the 20th, as he kept his word, the whippings ended. He grabbed the cuffs at the chain, and pulled me up and then pushed me down again, onto my bare knees on the floor. He came and sat down on the bed in front of me. I could feel the evil plugs filling me, the heels of my bare feet pressing on the bases of both somehow as he made sure I was sitting pretty for him. And Daddy looked down at me, I'm sure, seeing what a filthy little mess my **** face now was. I was so ashamed to look saw aweful, sure the skin was all mottled red as well as my eyes, from crying so much, long hairs stuck in the slather of **** spit, where the gag had pulled it by being so far, so long down the open **** throat. And he smiled and reached behind my head, unbucking the hideous gag, ordering me to "open," while slowly pulling the offending phallous from its warm, wet, sticky home in me. I obeyed, and could feel my jaw, like a rusted hinge needing to be oiled, begin to close together again, a nearly foreign occupation after what seemed a forever opened position. He smiled at me, again, and set the slick gag on the sheets beside him.

And I smiled, looking up at my loving Daddy, as I watched him appraise the udders, teats still captured in the rings beneath their cloth harness. He then leaned down, and kissed me deeply, while reaching around with one hand, and unhooking the udder harness. His toungue pressed against the **** tongue, and I found myself at once in love with the moment while hating it entirely. His other hand had snaked up to play with the suffering udder and teat on the left side, his fingers pinching then pulling at the swell of the nipple there, while his other hand came up under my chin, holding me while he continued to explore my wet, sticky open **** mouth. I sighed deeply, feeling the ache of being used, touched, forced, drawn to his Masterful touch on me, and I hated that anyone could blend pain and pleasure so perfectly on my mind, on my body. No, HIS body.

And then it hit me, Daddy was saying he still loved me, and wanted to know that I still loved him. And I did, with all my heart. And then I realised that the pain was necessary for me to understand how MUCH Daddy loved his little girl, how important she was to him, to the point of his taking time and effort to insure her perfection for him and his use of her through such hard disciplines and punishemnt when she didn't obey. I was again ashamed, ashamed I'd disobeyed my Daddy, my owner, my lover. I was his possession, his precious filthy little girl, and I'd overstepped my boundaries in trying to express my own disgust and anger for something that ultimately wasn't even my decision to do in the first place. Daddy had been so lenient up until this time. I knew then he'd simply had enough of my arrogance and willful ways. I deserved every bit of the pain and punishment he'd given me. And that was it, HE'D GIVEN ME. I realised suddenly, as I felt his hands both now pressing on each of my bare shoulders, forcing the thick hateful plugs that much deeper into their respective holes, Daddy's punishment was as all things, a gift from him to me. And I loved him so much for that, as he placed his huge hand around the back of my head, pulling me forward, lining me up with his now very stiff **** head. I looked up from my lower vantage point to see him smiling down at me, my eyes rolled back so I was peering at his smile through my thick lashes.

"Open," was all he said.

And I did, as he pulled me onto him, pulled him into me. Forced every bit of his tension, his love, his anger, his need, deep into the **** throat.

And I was grateful again to be loved, forced, and perfectly used by Daddy.
FantasiaRealms FantasiaRealms
31-35, F
5 Responses Feb 9, 2012

did the leather make you bleed any where?

Sir, if you're referring to the part of the punishment session where the whip was used upon me, it isn't leather, and it doesn't cut at all. He has a leather bull whip, but it leaves black marks if it hits the wall or ceiling, so it isn't used now.

Oh My God - WOW

Aw sorry, dear SP, to have missed thanking you until now for your time coming by and all. I hope you're able to forgive me, and I guess you liked this one? I hope so:) Please, do send my best to dear MistressP if you would? I hope she is well, and you also :)

Good job fantasia :)

Thank you, dear vaqicita:) Maybe Daddy won't notice too many of the typos, but he says to leave it until he reads it through to decide how many he'll need to get after me to fix. I'm glad you like it:)

Well... good luck with the consequences :)

I love it too! And it's beautifully written. I can imagine that your Master is very pleased indeed with his good little girl.

How very kind, dear Subbabe, your thoughtful words to this:) Thank you so much:)

You deserved the touch of his hand as a reminder of your place and to pay for your transgressions. Your daddy loves very much and this shows in his discipline. Wish I was there to witness it myself.

Yes, Sir. I know this now more than ever, that he loves me and only wishes to give me the opportunity to learn how to please him. Perhaps someday, he will wish more witnesses than him and me to his harshest displays of love for his little girl. I'm glad you liked this new one, Sir, and thank you for your thoughts here. Every comment that says they enjoyed reading is a good thing, when Daddy comes by to see how the story is doing:) Thank you again, Sir:)