Tabitha's First Spanking

"Miss Ames, can you please come into my office? I need to speak with you."

Tabitha glanced up from where she was sliding her Calculus book into her bag, a bit startled. "Um, sure Professor Holloway..."

"What about the party, Tabby?" Callie muttered.

It was a gorgeous August Friday; their first week of their first year in college. All the kids were gathering at the park for the first party of the year. The two freshmen were part of the afternoon's wet T-shirt contest.

Tabitha shrugged. "I'm sure it'll only take a second. Just go on and get ready, I'll be there. Gotta pretend like this math crap means something to me."

Callie rolled her eyes. "I know, huh? Okay, see you there. By the way, don't wear a bra; I happen to know Rob wants to get a closer look at you." With a giggle, the tall blonde breezed out of the room.

Sighing inwardly, Tabitha shouldered her book bag and walked to the side door where Mr. Holloway's office was. Of course, at least he wasn't some old geezer with hair like Einstein. Actually, he was pretty damn cute. She guessed he was probably about 28, and his blonde hair and green eyes had already made for some naughty daydreaming by a large portion of his female students. She could be staying after class talking to Mrs. Cole, her fat pissy psych teacher, which would have sucked much worse than this.

"Yes, sir?"

Mr. Holloway looked up from a paper he was grading. His green eyes seemed to pierce right through her skull and she blushed, feeling as though he were reading her thoughts.

"Come in, Miss Ames. And please, shut the door behind you."

A little intimidated, the girl quietly pushed the thick office door shut and then approached her teacher, pressing her hands together in front of her and suddenly feeling like a small child.

She went to sit in the soft leather chair facing his large oak desk, but a sharp No from Mr. H. stopped her halfway down.

"Miss Ames, you may STAND. Right there, in front of the desk, please."

A strange feeling, kind of like adrenaline mixed with dread, filtered from her stomach to the back of her throat. Nervously, the eighteen-year-old swallowed and pushed her long brown hair back over her shoulders.

"Sir?"

He stood and cast a stern look at her. "Miss Ames, do you consider college to be a joke?"

She quickly shook her head. "No, Mr. Holloway... um ...why?"

He picked up a folder and came around the desk. "Miss Ames, this is the in-class paper you wrote on Tuesday, when I asked the class to give me three paragraphs on why math is important in everyday life. Do you remember doing that?"

Barely; I think I was still half stoned from my first brush with X...

"Of course I do." Where the crap was this going?

"Keep your tone polite and call me Sir." He came closer, pulling a sheet of paper from the folder and setting it on the desk in front of her. She could see the lacy hearts and clouds drawn in the margins on the essay. Oh boy.

"You are no longer a child and I will not tolerate childish behavior in my COLLEGE class. I saw your previous grades and your entrance exam scores. Miss Ames, you are a very smart young woman. For your own good, I am going to have to set you straight before you get out of hand."

WHAT??? She looked up from the paper to her professor. His tone had been firm and even. There was no smile on his face; he wasn't joking.

Before she could say anything, he turned and went back around the desk. He opened the top left hand drawer and glanced inside. Then he looked her square in the eyes.

"Miss Ames, I want you to bend over and place your elbows firmly on the desk. Get your face right down over your paper and begin reading it please."

"What?"

He didn't blink, merely reached his hand into the open drawer. "You heard me, Miss Ames."

His air of authority was overpowering, and, trembling a little, Tabitha slowly bent over the desk.

"'What does math mean to me?'" she began in a small voice as he came around the desk to stand behind her. Pausing, she half turned, trying to see him.

"Miss Ames, did I tell you to stop reading?" His voice was so stern. Her trembling increased and she quickly turned back to face the desk.

"'Math... is a farce,'" she continued. "'W-when someone is too much of a... n-nerd to have a social life... '"

Then she felt hard flat wood hit her ass and she gave a little yelp of surprise. Shifting her weight, she turned to stare at him with wide eyes.

"Keep reading, Miss Ames," he directed in that stern professor voice. She didn't know what else to do, so she obeyed.

"Um... he or she turns to...um...math...AH!" The next hit with the paddle was a lot harder than the first. Her skin tingled where he'd spanked her. "...Turns to math because they are too much of a loser to do anything else... oh god!" Her eyes watered as he paddled her for the third time. She could practically feel her ass turning red.

"Mr. H.," she begged, her voice tight. "I'm sorry; I was... not myself that day. I know math is important..." She stopped short as he spanked her again.

"Miss Ames, do NOT apologize to me. Keep reading."

"But..."

She felt him take a step back. "You have no respect, do you Miss Ames? Please reach back and lift up your skirt. Maybe your daddy forgot to teach you to respect authority, but I assure you, the lesson WILL be taught."

Her face turned as red as her buttocks, but she quietly obeyed, lifting her short skirt to reveal a white cotton thong and her blushing ass.

"Now put your head down on your paper please."

As she complied, he stepped nearer and placed the paddle against her left buttock. "Why don't we start with a basic math lesson? Every time you feel the paddle hit you, I want you to count. Understand?"

She felt a delicious little tingle between her legs. Hmmm... "Yes, Sir," she whispered.

The paddle slapped her bare cheeks hard. "One..." she whimpered.

At two, tears began to fill her eyes. Man, he knew just how to make it sting.

By five, she felt herself getting moist. God, it hurt... but...

He made her count to twenty before he stepped away. She didn't dare move an inch, waiting for his directions. She felt his eyes examining his work.

"Miss Ames, do I need to continue, or do you think you've learned your lesson for today?"

"I've learned my lesson, Sir," Tabitha half sobbed, her whole body shaking, but not just from the pain.

"Then stand and turn around please."

She slowly rose from the desk and turned to face him. First, her eyes sought the object of her punishment, still in his hand, hanging by his side. As her gaze moved up, she saw the bulge in his pants, and her body gave a hard throb. Then she looked up into his stern green eyes.

"Don't think I will hesitate to punish you again if you mess up, understand?"

She nodded soberly.

"Fine, then. You are dismissed, Miss Ames. And by the way, you WILL wear undergarments at the party I know you will be attending later, is that clear?" He actually smiled at her look of surprise. "I'm not that much older than you Miss Ames and I know how young men are. Don't think of disobeying, because I WILL find out."

He moved to the door and opened it. Her body on fire, her mind a mess of confusion, Tabitha walked slowly past her teacher, her eyes cast demurely downward.

Just a story I felt like writing

I guess this is a rough draft because I just wrote it out as it flowed out of me.  But I'm just happy I felt like writing something!  I've missed writing!  So this is definitely not some of my best work, but here it is anyway. :)

Unfortunately, Daddy was in a bad mood today.  It was not a day to be messing around with him and blatantly disregarding his rules.  She seemed to have a knack for finding just those days.  But, she just felt so... contrary today!  She didn't want to run errands, she wanted to curl up with her book--she was almost done with it!  Then when he'd scolded her for her naughtiness, he'd caught her making faces behind his back.  (How did he always see that!?)  It was after all of that that now baby girl found herself in her current situation.

"Bend over," Daddy ordered, motioning to the back of the loveseat.  They were standing in the living room, it was mid-afternoon; the only thing she could be grateful for was that all the curtains were closed.  She tried to appeal to him anyway.

"But Daddy, we're in the middle of the house! And I wasn't trying to be bad, not really!" She turned her best big puppy eyes on him.

He stared at her. "Number one, you know that doesn't work on me, number two, yes you were trying to be bad, and number three, I don't give a damn if we're in the middle of the house.  Would you rather I took you outside and bent you over the hood of the car in the middle of the driveway?"

She shook her head no vehemently, knowing full well he'd do it, then slowly bent over the back of the small sofa, placing her palms flat on the cushions and resting her hips on the top edge of the back.  She felt cool air caress her backside as Daddy lifted her skirt up over her back and slid her panties down to her knees.  Next came the heart-quickening sound of Daddy's belt as he pulled it free from its loops and made it into just the right loop.  She felt his strong hand on the small of her back, and involuntarily tightened her body.

His voice was calm and steady, relaxing her as he spoke.  "Tell me what you did wrong, Baby Girl."  The love in his voice was almost enough to bring her to tears.

"I disobeyed your instructions, Sir.  And... and I made faces at you." Her voice quavered slightly.  "I'm sorry Daddy," she whispered.

"Do you deserve to be punished?"

"Yes Sir."

He made her push out her butt and lower her head, then gave her some warm-up strokes.  He knew it had been awhile since he'd taken care of his girl the way she needed, so it didn't really surprise him that she was acting out so much.  Hopefully today would be a step toward taking care of that.

After about ten minutes of warmup, he checked to see if she was doing okay, then set the belt aside.  She always took his hand as much more personal.  Gently, he led his baby girl around to the other side of the sofa and laid her over his lap.  "I'm going to make you cry today, Little One."

"Yes Daddy.  Thank you Daddy." She looked up at him, her eyes beaming, red with unshed tears that desperately needed to be brought out.

His hand came down on her soft, pink flesh, striking her from the tops of her buttocks to halfway down her thighs.  Even when she struggled, he merely put his strong leg over her two and kept going, knowing her tears would take a long time in coming.

Ding Dong

Baby Girl jumped a mile when the doorbell rang  Daddy merely looked up.  When it rang again, she slid off Daddy's lap and crouched in a ball on the floor.  Daddy stood, took note of the fact that this behaviour would need some correction, and slid the curtains aside to see who was at the door.  He turned around with a smile.

"Little one, I want you standing in the corner, over there," he pointed to a very prominent corner of the living room, "with your nose in the corner.  Do not speak unless I give you permission, and do not move, do you understand me?"

Slowly she stood and followed instructions.  "Yes Daddy."

He walked over to her and tucked her skirt up into her waistband, adjusted her panties back around her knees, so that her bright red bare bottom was completely on display, then went to answer the door.

Baby Girl was horrified, but had to stay put, so just pressed her bright red face in the corner, trying to hide her shame.  She heard Daddy welcoming his buddy, Mr. R., there to look at a few projects he'd been helping on around the house.  Oh geez.  Well, at least he knew.  He'd been friends with their family for a couple of years now, and recently had been told of their Domestic Discipline lifestyle.  But still, letting him openly see her in the midst of punishment?  OMG!

Daddy and Mr. R went around the house, talking about what projects needed to be done, where they should start, town gossip, what football team was winning this week, pretty much everything but her, even though she felt Mr. R's burning eyes on her body more than once.

When they finally got to the living room, all he said was, "Hey little one, what kinda trouble you get yourself into today?"

Daddy laughed.  "Maybe it would teach her more of a lesson if someone else swung the belt a couple of times?"

He knew she couldn't protest; she wasn't allowed to speak!

Daddy came near and carressed her sore backside,  "Maybe not this time though babygirl," he whispered. "This time, Daddy wants to make you cry all by himself.  You want that baby girl?"

Relieved, she nodded, leaning against her Daddy.

Soon, their friend was done, and he said goodbye to both of them, shook hands with Daddy, and left.

"You were a very good girl during all of that," Daddy said approvingly as he came close, took her by the hand, and led her into the bedroom.

Gently he removed his little sub's clothing and laid her face down on the bed.  "No more interruptions now."

How NOT to be a sub

Daddy sent me this list today. It made me laugh, so I thought I'd share it!

"30 Things A Good Submissive Shouldn't Do"

1. Sing "Happy Birthday To Me" during wax play and blow out the candle.
2. In the middle of an intense cropping, close your eyes and start to snore.
3. During a scene, do a Howard Cosell impression and provide a play-by-play
account of what is being done to you.
4. If your dom/me tells you to "Look me in the eyes," do it cross-eyed.
5. If your dom/me decides to do a verbal humiliation scene with you in public,
stick your fingers in your ears and say "Neener, neener, neener, I can't hear
you!"
6. Stick an Alka-Seltzer tablet in your mouth at the beginning of a scene. Work up some saliva to get it fizzy, then call out your safeword.
7. If you're trussed up and ordered to count, inform your top you can't do it unless you can use your fingers and toes.
8. Hold up a scorecard after each blow delivered.
9. Tell your dom/me a better way to do whatever it is being done to you at that moment.
10. After a particularly hard blow, pretend to pass out. When your dom/me checks to see if you're OK, jump up and yell "Gotcha!"
11. Go in the toybag and superglue the nipple clamps shut.
12. Attach clappers to all the outlets in the dungeon just before a paddling (Clap on! Clap off!)
13. "Oh my god, where did you get those, they are gorgeous!!!" is not considered boot worship.
14. Flipping your dominant off while your hands are cuffed behind your back is a bad idea. Owners have ways of knowing these things.
15. Kicking that toy you hate far under the bed is futile. Master will only secure your wristcuffs to your anklecuffs and make you crawl for it... repeatedly.
16. Doing your Beavis and Butthead imitation of "Fire, fire, fire, fire!" during Master's lecture on fireplay safety is considered rude.
17. Responding with "Yes, All Wise, All Knowing Grand Imperial Weenie" is not appropriate when Master asks you if you are comfortable during a bondage scene.
18. Asking to go to the bathroom every five minutes while Master practices his Japanese rope work on you will try his patience, quickly.
19. Crossing your eyes and sticking your tongue out while your dominant is discussing your punishment is not wise. (He gave me a special emphasis on this one. Who... me??? *innocent*)
20. Pretending Master's collection of buttplugs are toys and singing the "Weebles wobble but they won't fall down" song is not a good idea.
21. Checking Master's head for the 666 symbol after a harsh punishment will only get you more of the same, or worse.
22. "I know you are but what am I?" is not the appropriate response when called a raunchy little whore during humiliation play.
23. "Missed me, missed me, now ya gotta kiss me" is an unacceptable remark when Master's flogger slips.
24. When Master pulls out his bullwhip and says he wants to play, he doesn't mean hide-and-seek... He will find you eventually.
25. "Oh, and you think I am?" is an unacceptable response to hearing your dominant say he is not pleased.
26. During a play party is not the time to do your hilarious imitation of Igor and hunch over, moaning "Yes, Master" when ordered to fetch something.
27. Adding "Sir" or "Master" to "Fuck that plan!" will not save you.
28. Singing the chorus of "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better" under your breath during a session is considered foolhardy.
29. Reciting nursery rhymes during an interrogation scene to crack your Owner up only lasts for so long. Then you will pay BIG.
30. Asking "Is that as HARD as you can hit??" is considered a cry for help amongst submissive suicide prevention workers.

The Story of O

I just finished reading The Story of O. I guess maybe it seems odd that I'd never read it before, but, I hadn't. I also have Madame Bovary sitting on my nightstand, waiting to be opened, if I can ever put down that stupid DS. LOL

Anyway, I found it wonderful. Not the best writing (speaking strictly from a technical point of view) I've ever come across; but of course, you have to take into account that it was translated from its original French. But it draws you in, makes you want to read more, puts you into the main character's mind. Yes, it is erotic, in its own way, but it comes across more as an emotional kind of story. A girl truly finding herself and learning what makes her the happiest and what truly opens her soul. Maybe it's easier to see past the chains and sex when you are already of a submissive mind-set, and more understanding of O's frame of mind, I don't know.

After I read it, I was looking the story up online. I found some interesting things. Like that the symbol on my collar is very like the true "ring of O" that she receives at Roissy (where she is educated in slavery, so to speak), and that the simple band with the ring on it is the simplified version used for the movie. I knew that my collar was ordered from a bdsm type site and that the symbol is used by many in that way, but I didn't know the O reference. Interestingly, that triskelion symbol has quite a depth of meaning back through the ages, and I love that I've suddenly learned so much about it! It makes it that much more meaningful to me!

I know there are many who wouldn't understand this: "It is only when you make me suffer that I feel safe and secure," says O to her master, Sir Stephen. And I understand that being a submissive, slave, whatever one chooses to call oneself, isn't something that appeals to all. But I did find this tidbit quite interesting:

The book tells the profound, and disturbing, story of a woman who wishes to exist without existing: "She lost herself in a delirious absence from herself." Through utter humiliation, O rises. Susan Sontag called the book a story of "an ascent through degradation." Such a woman today would, of course, be pathologized and, ironically, "healed" by more socially acceptable methods of control: institutionalization and medication. link

How true is that?! How is society's control of someone, in ways that they deem "acceptable", in order to make that person fit a mold that they deem "appropriate" any better than self-sought slavery or submission? We are all slaves: to society, to our family, to any number of things, and it seems to me far better to be able to choose what makes you happiest and most fulfilled than to submit only to certain bonds of slavery just because you are told the majority of people wish you to. It certainly makes you think anyway...

Good Book!

I love to read! I'll read anything I can get my hands on. I just finished this book called To Serve and Submit, by Susan Wright. It was wonderful! I was lucky to find it, because I haven't stumbled on very much literature that speaks to my submissive side. (I know just a little about the Gor series, but have only read the first book, because I have only been able to find them online, and I don't really want to sit in front of my computer to read a whole book.)

On another note, I also love writing, when I get the chance. It's a good outlet. :) And yes, of course I write erotic fiction. Not exclusively, but when I am in the mood. Here's a link.