(This was written on Thursday, 29th June...)
Today's post is brought to you by the letter F. Sesame Street was a big part of my TV watching habit when I was a child.
The floor got hacked up today. And oh cement dust is everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE.
First they got here late - the guy had been waiting for his boss who got held up. Eventually instructions were given and details were sorted and the boss guy left. After setting up the plastic sheet to block off the work area from the rest of the house the fella announced he was off to lunch. What? Already? But you just got here. *Mutter*
He came back in at 1 and the cutting and banging began. I left him to it and ran off to the pool. I needed to get away from the noise.
When I returned I was met with 7 layers of dust on everything. So much for blocking off the work area. Once he'd called it a day and left, I did what I could - swept, mopped the areas that I could, wiped up what dust I could off the surfaces most direly in need of cleaning, then grabbed a ciggie and went out of the house for a smoke because I just couldn't bear to stay inside a second longer.
There was a whole lot of screaming and panicking going on in my head.
Which is how BIKSS found me when he got here this evening. He came back from his worktrip in the wee hours of the morning but had still gone in to work today. So I was really grateful that he made the effort to come by despite not having gotten a proper night's sleep.
I whined about all the dust. And how I needed to escape my house. Which is why I was outside. (He said later during dinner that he could see the fear and panic in my eyes.) We were both hungry. And I was motivated to get up and get going by his next sentence.
"Let's go eat, then Daddy'll spank you when we come back ok?" he said, as if that was the most normal thing in the world to say. But it was, to us. It's funny when I think about it now, it's the way someone vanilla might say "I'll tuck you in when we get back," or "I'll let you have some ice cream after dinner."
After grabbing some food at the nearby foodcourt we came back home. I asked him if I should have a shower first, and he replied that I probably would feel a lot better after I did. I went to the bedroom to retrieve my bath towel but instead I ended up in a crouch on the bed, covering my head with my pillows.
"Go on and have a shower, then come back and I'll give you a spank and a hug," he kissed my back.
I finally rolled off and headed to the bathroom.
When I got back from my shower it was time for presents! You all know I'm a bit of an earring slut right?
I LOVE THEM. They're actually a really pretty glassy ice blue irl. The pic doesn't do it justice.
He also got me a unicorn / pegasus (?) luggage tag (mine's blue and white) and some unicorn-themed clothes pegs / photo holder clips. They look something like these - but these pictures were taken off the web cos I've gone and put mine away and it's getting too late for me to go dig 'em out again now :)
After I put them all away he had me lie in bed, "Stomach down".
He walked round to the dresser and bent down to pull out the
flogger and
Christmas paddle from the bottom-most drawer.
He swished the flogger across my butt cheeks, lightly, getting his swing. And after a reasonable warming up he put it down and took off his shirt. "You look like you mean business," I remarked, amused, when I saw him do that.
"I DO mean business..." he replied.
And boy did he. That was the end of any sexy yummy swishing. What followed were some serious thwacks across my cheeks. Hard, solid, rhythmic. I winced and cried out more than a few times. Lucky for me I had my face buried in my pillows and my fists clenched around the sides. This was different from our usual spankings. I was stressed and he knew it. And he knew how to get me to let go and calm down. And this was it. We don't usually have such intense sessions, but when we do, it's definitely warranted.
The falls of my new favourite toy landed on the same cheek in succession. First he concentrated on the left, then when that one could take no more he moved on to the right. Sure, that's ONE way of building the intensity. My vocalisations were apparently accompanied by butt clenches (BIKSS informed me later) and feet-wagging. Have you ever noticed that when it hurts and you're trying not to move out of position (whether out of obedience or for safety reasons) you 'wag' your feet cos that's the ONLY thing you CAN move?
They fell on both cheeks now, then he did an alternating pattern. I couldn't keep count. I wanted to. But it was impossible.
It was difficult not to move. I felt myself creeping higher and higher up towards the top edge of the bed. A hand came down on my neck. His hand. It kept me still. Not by force or strength, but by mere intention.
A voice beside my ear, "Shhh, good girl... shhh."
The flogging had stopped. When, I wasn't sure.
Cool air filled the space where his face had just been moments before. Then a smack from the Christmas paddle.
Rinse and repeat. All the things he did with the flogger he now did with the paddle. Multiple smacks on one spot, alternating cheek smacks, a-single-swat-across-both-cheeks smacks. Down came the spanks, out came the hissing sounds - involuntarily of course. I was sucking in air in an attempt not to cry out. Not a very successful attempt, I might add. It hurt to the point I almost teared. I felt it begin. Not from an emotional trigger like stress-relief or guilt or remorse, as one would expect from such a spanking, but from pain. Sheer pain. But he stopped before they could flow.
The paddle was abandoned. Once again, a kiss on my temple, and more magic words. "That's my girl," he cooed. As he rested his lips on the side of my face he began spanking me in that position we love so much. He had gotten in next to me, stretched out and propped up on the side. His hand now the weapon of choice. They weren't particularly hard spanks, more like medium ones, but after the flogger and paddle, my flesh was tender, the marks were showing, and there was a definite build-up of accumulated pain.
Finally, after much breathing and panting, I felt myself releasing all that tension and settling into him, into a serene space where I could let go of the panic.
He rubbed my bum and I complained that it hurt.
"I know... " he replied, kindly.
After a short while I felt normal again. BIKSS abandoned rubbing my cheeks to rub between them instead, feeling the wetness gathered there.
We had the usual sexy fun we always have, "Remember what Daddy does to your nipples?" he teased, pinching them. I wasn't aware of the pain tho, not much. I had Roger in my mouth and a job to do. I retched as he pulled my head down so my mouth was fully over his cock; I was aware of my nose feeling blocked up, and this time the tears did come - from gagging.
"Pussy wanna get fucked now?"
I tried to nod but he held me all the way down on Roger again. I made a noise instead. I think. I tried, anyway. He asked again, "Tell me what you want," but this time no sound would come. So I forced a nod, my head bobbing down on his cock. Which only made me gag even more. Oh but it felt so good - being made to give him an answer in such a predicament.
The rest is a little
fuzzy. We fucked. Twice. And talked, and cuddled. And for now, I am safe and strong again.
