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Part 3: Annie’s Punishment

April 30, 2018 By Juliette van der Molen 6 Comments

Sexy young woman with rattan school cane. Woman prepare for spanking

Annie’s hair hung in a long straight curtain of gold until it waved and curled gently just below her shoulder blades. She perched on her toes. Her calf muscles stood out in high relief against her skin as she trembled under the strain. A quarter nestled between her nose and the wall and she held it in place as if her life depended on it, which of course, it did not. Scott walked into the room at intervals and stood behind her, sometimes coming close enough that his breath brushed against her neck. He didn’t say anything, didn’t touch her. His silence was worse than anything.

 

She was supposed to be thinking. When he released her from the wall she would have to tell him why she’d misbehaved. First, she told herself she hadn’t broken any specific rule. That was true. But, she’d carefully baited and laid a trap. This wasn’t the expected outcome. Her hope was that his version of punishment might include something more directly physical, something—with impact. Annie steadied her breath and let it flow out of her. She wanted more than anything to rest her heels on the floor, but the moment that happened he would take that as a sign that she was ready to talk. She wasn’t sure she ever would be. When he had asked her to strip, she thought for certain the plan was going to work. When he brought her to the wall, she thought there was still hope. The instructions fell from his lips with all the disappointment of air slipping out of a balloon.

 

He hadn’t paddled her in a while. One of the things she loved about Scott was that he knew how to put his hands on her and well, handle her. He wasn’t shy about it. Her limbs were fragile surrounded by his punishing fingers and demanding mouth. He moved her and positioned her and had her every way he wanted. The sex blew her mind. She wept from the pain and suffering of him pounding into her without remorse, ever opening, wishing she could somehow pull herself wider. Sometimes he said he wanted to slip under her skin. They couldn’t get close enough.

 

She was shaking and it had been too long already. One heel hit the floor in defeat and she slid nose to quarter, still holding it in position.

 

“Come here.”

 

Annie slipped the quarter between her teeth and slid down the wall until she was on all fours. Her calves relaxed in relief as her knees now dug into the hardwood floor and she began the slow crawl to where he stood. Eyes trained low each grain and groove brought her closer. Dark red pigment prickled at her neck and she fought to control it, knowing it was useless. She blinked to banish the tears filling her eyes, bulging against her lower lids and threatening to spot the floor. She wasn’t ready to talk. She still didn’t know what to say.  The tips of his gleaming black shoes came into view. Shiny enough to see her reflection in them, if she could bear it. Annie knelt up and settled her hands behind her back. She rose like a puppet on a string, straightening her back and tilting her chin upward, the coin offered to him.

 

He took it and through lowered eyelids she saw him rub it once, twice, then pocket it.

 

“So there’s still the question to answer, girl.” He said softly. “Why?”

 

A breath shuddered through her and when she tried to answer a sob choked out. She just couldn’t say it. His hand slid into her hair like a comfort until his fingers tightened and squeezed.

 

“Look at me!” His voice was soft, exasperated.

 

Opening her eyes felt like unearthing a vein deep below the surface. She didn’t want to do it, but part of her wanted exactly that. Vulnerability rippled through her skin and made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She didn’t like that he didn’t understand her. She didn’t like that the words had stuck in her throat so many times that she had resorted to a stupid, childish game to get his attention.

 

“Annie, I need to understand.  What’s going on with you?” His hand softened.

 

“I thought.” She started, then halted then blurted out the words. “I thought you would punish me.”

 

“Isn’t that what I just did?”

 

“No. I mean, yes. But no, not like that.”

 

Scott tilted his head and looked down on her contorted face, streaked with tears. Annie glanced over to the spanking bench disguised as a respectable ottoman near his chair. His eyes followed hers and he closed his eyes. His full lips flattened into a thin line as he shook his head.

 

“Like what?” He asked.

 

“I thought you would paddle me.” She said softly.

 

He watched her struggle, imagined the internal battle raging back and forth like some dark tennis match knocking at her heart.  His hand slid down against her hair and he crouched down low to take her chin gently in his hand.

 

“Why would you want me to paddle you, Annie?” He asked.

 

As a lawyer, he’d been trained never to ask questions he didn’t already know the answer to—and he could have let her out of this so easy. So many times before he’d had her over that bench until she was crying and squirming and begging him for more. But, she’d never initiated anything like that. The truth was, he loved dominating her. He loved giving her the pain she craved, but he wanted her full participation. And while he’d expected that eventually she would ask him for it, instead of just willingly submitting to his whim, he hadn’t expected it to come about like this. Still, here they were and now he needed to hear it.

 

“Because…” Her voice drifted a little until he squeezed on her chin and her eyes opened wide. “It would hurt.”

 

“I’m not going to punish you that way, ever. We’ve talked about this.” He shook his head. “Why did you try to manipulate me?”

 

Her eyes widened at his understanding. Annie swallowed hard.

 

“I wanted it.” She whispered.

 

“Look at me when you say it and say it clearly.”

 

Her voice trembled loudly. “I wanted you to hurt me. I wanted to feel it. I need it.”

 

“That, was all you ever had to say, little one.” He stood up and gestured over to the bench.

 

Annie scurried over as he adjusted the screws on either side of the center compartment so that she could nestle her knees in the padding.  He stroked her back as she shivered lightly.

 

“Before we begin..” He started. “This is not a punishment. We’ve already done that. You’re never to repeat that kind of behavior. I may call you my little girl and I may be a Daddy to you, but you are a grown woman and you will not hide these desires from me any more. Do you understand me?”

 

“I do, Daddy.” Annie whispered softly.

 

Her fingers gripped the edge of the bench as she relaxed into the leather. His first stroke was steady and sure, the leather side of the paddle smacking hard. A moan blew out of her half open mouth and tugged her lips up into a smile. This was it. What she needed and missed and wanted. He warmed her up slow until she lifted for him, offering herself to him, pulsing against the strokes. When he flipped the paddle to the wooden side she was more than ready. The sting shocked into skin and she felt herself shrink inward while her body did the impossible and reached out to him. He was catching her in the sweet spot, paddle spreading her cheeks and making contact with her pussy lips.

 

The war inside her mind commenced. Take the pain. Use the safe word. Pull away from him. Push back into him. Logic battled her to the end. Then the pain ceased and it was all sound and sensation reverberating through every muscle like an electric current. A low rumble tumbled out from deep in her chest, moans mixed with cries that no longer made any sense to her. His exertion was at the limit, his breath whooshing out of him as he laid each hard blow. The color on her cheeks now a mosaic of pink, red and white overlapping as he painted her in pain.

 

“Give it to me.”

 

His command came through gritted teeth. Each muscle inside her core wound up tight as the blows came impossibly hard and closer together. She was a star collapsing in on itself and then exploding out through her extremities, launching into another galaxy. Her throat choked on a cry so big it had to force its way through larynx, expanding vocal chords that she never new existed.  

 

He covered her then, his body draping over her heaving soreness. Scott pressed his mouth into the hollow behind her ear as she cried.

 

“Never.” He panted. “Never, ever hide this from me.. It’s stunning. My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

 

And then.

 

Annie wept.

 

About the Author:

Writer of completely unladylike erotica and other sundry things. After discovering that people actually do these crazy, kinky things, she began exploring the lifestyle in 1993 and never looked back. She writes about her experience in authority based relationships, BDSM fiction and even the occasional hot sonnet. She is currently the assistant direction for MAsT Central New Jersey and the co-host of a submissive support group (SSASE) in the same area. Her work has appeared in Lit Up, P.S. I Love You, My Erotica.com, and The Junction. You can find her in these publications at: https://medium.com/@juliette.vandermolen and connect with her on Twitter @j_vandermolen and fetlife at: juliette_ .

Tagged With: bdsm, big, dom, erotica, Juliette van der Molen, kink, little, punishment, sub

Being a Little and Its Healing Properties

October 9, 2017 By slave_bunny 2 Comments

child_coloring_h

Most people have things from the past that they are not over, and many of those things stem from childhood. Many of our parents didn’t give us what we needed most, and our basic needs were not met. Because of this, we go into adulthood with this hole in us that feels like it can never be filled or eradicated. Although it is very evident that we cannot change the past, it is still possible to get what we missed out on in childhood in our adult lives.

My childhood was filled with a lot of extra- curricular activities and a regimented afterschool schedule, along with a very judgmental mother who needed everything, including me, to be her way. She did not give me the freedom to be myself that I so yearned for, did not give me the unconditional love that I needed, and did not provide a reliable and consistent structure for me. So, in my adult life I dealt with this void in various ways. Some healthy, such as: being task-oriented, list making, and loving my Master unconditionally and non-judgmentally. Others, in not so healthy ways, such as: emotional lash outs.

It is easy to think that what happened in your past, stays in the past. But unless it is dealt with in an effective and healthy way, it will keep coming back to haunt you.

I have found that when I go into “Little Bunny mode” I am able to get all the things I missed out on in my childhood: acceptance, laughter, silliness, and unconditional love. I feel free to be myself, and don’t have to be thinking a million steps ahead. I can just live happily and peacefully in the current moment, and be completely present and mindful with my Master.

Going into my little space also allows me to positively replace some of the negative emotions left from my childhood, and put things into a more realistic perspective. Because of my little mode, I was able to realize that I’m not a bad person; I just wasn’t living up to my mother’s standards. I know this because of the acceptance and love my Master gives me when I am in little mode. And that brings me a lot of healing. I don’t take my childhood so personally, because I am shown that other people accept my child self, which is exactly the person my mother rejected. In short, being a little can replace negative feelings from the past with new positive ones, and replace our old, pessimistic ideologies about ourselves as well.

My little side does not have a set time when it shows up or is supposed to show up. It usually makes an appearance in times of extreme stress, sadness, or happiness. But no matter when it comes out, it is always way more pleasant feeling these things through my little self, than feeling the strain of stress and sadness in my adult head space.

It also allows my Master to better deal with the intense emotions, because it is often easier to have compassion for someone who is small and youthful than a full- grown adult. I also find it is easier to move on from a negative emotion quicker and easier because that’s how children are wired. Children don’t always have the ability to see the big picture. So, when the moment is over, so are their emotions.

My little self is also much more forgiving towards myself and others, and less pessimistic because she has not been jaded by the adult world and all its disappointments. Because of this, I find my little comes out when I need to remain positive and keep my esteem intact. My Master has even given me assignments to write to my adult self from my little self. I will often read these letters in times of stress.

Roleplaying a big/little scene can also be very therapeutic. Roleplaying as a little can give you a healthy outlet to acquire what you missed out on as a child, and/ or a way to reenact things from your childhood that need working through. It allows you the space to feel more heard and be more taken care of than you may have been in childhood.

I strongly encourage those who go into little space do so only with those they whole-heartedly trust (due to the fact that going into little space can often leave one feeling quite vulnerable).  While being a little is not the sole thing one needs to work through their past, it can be a great and healing tool to use in tandem with other coping mechanisms and healing techniques.

I discovered my little with my Master by accident, and as time goes on she comes out more and more. I find being a little is a great emotional coping tool, and breeds a lot of acceptance and nonjudgement within myself. For me, when I am in little space, the lack of harsh criticism combined with unconditional acceptance definitely brings about a boost in my overall self- esteem.

I strongly encourage anyone who identifies as a little to look at who your little is, and try to link your little to your childhood. See what connections you can make. It’s important for everyone to fully process what they are not over yet, so they can move on and stop carrying the emotional weight around from the past. I have found that being a little is an amazing way to do that.

About the Author:

Slave Bunny, a 1950’s power slave, is involved in a wonderful and loving TPE 24/7 M/S relationship with her Master and husband. She is also the Creative Director of Kink Weekly.

She has dedicated her life to working on herself mentally, spiritually, and physically, and hopes to inspire others to do the same. Through teaching and mentoring, she hopes to help everyone in the Kink community as much as she can.

Feel free to add her on Fetlife (Slave_Bunny992) to see her upcoming workshops and classes.

 

Tagged With: big, daddy dom, little, little space, master, role play

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