TearDrops on Hardwood Floor

Grat 1-5Appearing in:
Gratification – Box Set 1: Books 1-5
 

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TearDrops on Hardwood Floor –

She waited patiently in his study, a particularly dark room that lacked the feminine touch he allowed her to give so many other rooms in the house. His study had a chill to the air that formed goose bumps across her naked flesh. But she remained perfectly still, keeping her chin lowered and her eyes focused on the tiny pillow at her feet.

As per his direction, she had just come from the shower. So the coolness of the room had a greater effect on her warmed body. But she had done as she was told and was clean, from head to toe.

She awaited his entrance and her pending punishment. As his submissive and his BabyGirl, she had grown accustomed to following his commands and instructions without hesitation or question. He provided a life for her that was unlike anything else she had ever known. She knew her role and her place in his world and the love she received from him was consummate.

She had never loved anyone so deeply or felt as cherished. That’s what made her current situation a little shameful for her. Earlier that day, he had given her a simple instruction and she forgot to abide by it. It wasn’t a deliberate act on her part, merely nothing more than an honest mistake, but she lived in his world now and in his world, his word was the law that ruled. And he saw her mistake as deliberate disobedience.

From the shadows of the room, he appeared. She felt his intimidating presence and knew that he had been watching her this whole time. Silently he paced around her, running his left hand over her naked body, taking time to feel the smoothness of her peach, the result of yet another instruction he gave her prior to her sheepish entrance into his study for her punishment.

He enjoyed having control over everything about her – her thoughts, her actions, her words, her pleasure and her body. She was made to ask his permission to do everything except breathe. She enjoyed her submission to his smallest demands. She hardly thought about her compliance to him. It was now instinct to listen. And it was adrenaline mixed with passion that struck at her core every time he reminded her of how meek she had become.

“Tell me of your submission to me,” he spoke quietly, yet forcefully as he continued circling around her, running his fingertips wherever he wanted on her body.

“My submission to you gives me security I’ve never known. It makes me a complete girl. It’s unconditional love and I know when I disappoint you and disobey you, you still love me,” she said, cowering at what was to come but enjoying the agony of the wait.

“Do you wish to disappoint me?” he asked.

“No, Daddy,” she answered as she began to tremble slightly.

“Then why disobey me?” he asked, raising his voice to match her condition of trembling.

“Because I’m flawed and need your direction,” she answered.

“And what direction do you believe you need from me right now?” he inquired, allowing the paddle that he had been hiding been his back to come into view.

“Punishment, Daddy,” she answered as her eyes caught sight of the paddle.

“Why punishment? Why not a lecture?” he asked as he stopped circling her and stood behind her.

“Words will sometimes not get through to me. Punishment will make me feel my disobedience,” she managed to stumble out as tears had formed in her eyes.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” he asked as she nodded humbly. “Tell me why.”

“Because I haven’t been wearing my diapers when you’re away from home,” she confessed as a single tear streamed down her right cheek.

“And why was that disobedient?” he asked while preparing himself for her punishment.

“Because I am your BabyGirl and therefore belong in a diaper at all points in time,” she admitted.

“Kneel, place your forehead on the pillow and stretch your hands out in front of you,” he commanded.

She knelt, doing exactly as he said and closed her eyes. With a quick motion, he bound her wrists and ankles with two silk scarves. She might be able to squirm, but now couldn’t get away. He positioned himself behind her and then waited before he began, knowing that the delay would be punishment in itself for her.

And he was right. She remained in her punishment position for what seemed like an eternity. Her mind was filled with a mixture of excitement, fear and agony over not knowing when he would begin. He stomach was flustered and her senses were turning to numb and nearly unhinged bits of information that her mind could no longer handle. Yet she remained motionless and didn’t show the conflict that was waging a war within her. While she feared him, she still loved him and was grateful for the punishment as correction.

She couldn’t see him and didn’t dare open her eyes to peek for fear that her punishment would be worsened because of the infraction. She began to wonder what he was doing, why he was waiting so long and how disappointed he was in her insubordinate behavior.

As she continued to wait, she thought back to her previous punishments and how each one had gotten more severe and painful than the one prior. She felt very alone and the only company she could keep at that moment was her thoughts which had begun to betray her by envisioning the forthcoming punishment. She imagined bruising, maybe broken bones, an inability to walk afterwards and scenarios far worse than any of those.

She heard the clicking of a camera and the flashes lit up her eyelids. For a while, she counted the number of the pictures he had taken, but eventually lost track. Her mind began to wonder what these pictures were being taken for. Was he taking them for his own private pleasure or would her shameful pose soon be the embarrassing content of a public gallery somewhere on the internet?

Out of nowhere, she felt the end result of his first swing of the paddle. Her mind was forced out of her thoughts and made to focus on the sting which had quickly spread across her bottom. It was every bit of the fantasy she had been anticipating and was within the realm of pain she could derive pleasure from. Perhaps this punishment would be pleasurable after all. Perhaps her fear was misplaced.

The second smack of the paddle arrived and it was twice as hard as the first. The pain also double and the sting shot through every limb of her body this time. She winced at the pain, concentrating on not making a sound until she absolutely had to. She knew she would have to eventually cry out loud or he would never stop until she did. Keeping sound to herself for the moment was the only shred of dignity she had left.

The third smack arrived with an even greater force that weakened her knees. The sound of the paddle on her stinging flesh rang in her ears, echoing back off the walls and ceiling. The pain increased three-fold and after the smack, he kept the paddle pressed up against her bottom. She could feel the texture of the wood and the heat being transferred from her body to it.

Then the mind games began again as he removed the paddle from her bottom, but seemed to have stopped the spanking. Her mind, trying to register the pain she was feeling, now began to wonder. Was he done? Was that it? Would it be all right to ask if he was done?

These questions were short-lived as the pain returned to the forefront of her mind. Her bottom felt raw and was throbbing. Tears had formed and were rolling down her cheeks. This spanking was the hardest he had ever given and the only way to prevent herself from crying out loud was to force her mouth to stay shut. She breathed heavily through her nose.

When was he going to start again? Was he done? Should she ask? Was now the appropriate time to thank him for punishing her? What if it wasn’t the right time to ask? Would her punishment then continue? Was he switching from a wooden paddle to a leather belt? A whip? His bare hand? A tree branch? Why had he stopped for so long? Was he waiting for her to respond? Was he waiting for her cries of anguish?

She didn’t know what to do and she didn’t know what to think. It was excruciating to wait and the pain in her body was just as unbearable. Her kneeling position gave her no relief from the pain. The fantasy of punishment was gone and she had no idea where this was headed. She would much rather sit or stand in a corner for hours than have to undertake the torture of not knowing what was to come. She would gladly be lead around the mall by a leash and collar, wearing nothing but her bra and her dirty diaper than continue kneeling on that floor.

She debated risking her own well-being by asking him if he was done or maybe just looking back at him to see what he was doing. She would gladly deal with the additional punishment if it meant she would at least know what was going on.

She contemplated getting up and running, or faking an injury to get out of the current state she was forced to be in. But for every idea she came up with she quickly thought of the reason why she shouldn’t do that. She had become incapable of handling this punishment.

She returned to thinking of the physical pain in her bottom. Then, at long last, she cried out loud. She didn’t say any words, instead opting to just cry audibly. She knew crying made her feel better. The mental anguish had destroyed her.

As if she hadn’t gotten the point yet, he suddenly delivered the fourth paddle offering to her bottom. It was an answer to her prayers while also being nightmare material. She winced at the unbearable pain and began to feel weak. Her body trembled, a condition of the force of his blows and the torture her mind had gone through. Without warning her bladder gave way and she began peeing uncontrollably down her legs.

This only upset her worse and made her cry harder. She could only react to the embarrassment for so long before the fifth smack registered a crushing blow to her bottom that sent her forward onto her tummy on the floor.

She lay there, defeated, naked, bound and broken. She looked up at him, but couldn’t see the look on his face for the darkness of the room. She lowered her head to the floor and closed her eyes, preparing for his next offering. She stopped trying to figure out what it would be and accepted whatever it was would be his decision.

He knelt beside her and untied her ankles. His hands parted her thighs and she unquestioningly opened her legs for him. She didn’t have a bit of free will left and awaited his actions. To her surprise, a warm, wet, wash cloth touched her skin, cleaning her of her own urine. He untied her wrists and helped her curl up into the fetal position. Then he left the room.

She lay there, relieved that it was over. No longer fearing the unknown future moments, she was now able to reflect on what had just happened. She lay there and began to blame herself for this whole thing. If she hadn’t taken her diaper off this afternoon when he left, she wouldn’t have ever been laying on that floor in a puddle of her own pee. She would be bouncing up and down on his knee at this very moment as he gave her a horsey ride or tickled her tummy. Instead, her idea of having a few hours of independent fun had led to this.

Not only had her body been punished, but her senses had been punished and her mind had been punished. She felt lost, helpless and vulnerable to the world. Being submissive meant you existed under someone else’s control and with someone else’s direction. She didn’t feel like she had anyone to direct her at that moment. She didn’t feel he had given her any guidance at all. Then, all of the sudden she realized that was exactly what he just did.

She chose to do something earlier that day which showed her defiance to his dominance. In order to fully enjoy and experience a life of submission, she had to give herself fully to his control. It wasn’t pointless, senseless punishment she had just received. Instead, it was very calculated and was intended to affect every piece of her mind and soul. He had accomplished his goal.

Suddenly, she longed for him. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was and how she understood what she had done wrong. But how long would she have to wait now? As quickly as that question came to her mind, she erased it from thought. She would wait, patiently and obediently.

Her wait didn’t turned out to be very long at all as he returned to her side and picked her up in his arms as if she were a new bride. She looked at his face and saw the strain he had gone through. The redness in his eyes and the stain marks on his cheeks told the tale of the anguish he felt in having spanked her. She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a pacifier being placed between her lips. There was a kindness to him all of the sudden and she not only embraced his neck, but his presence.

He carried her out of his study and upstairs to her nursery. As if her were carrying delicate China dishes, he placed her on the changing table with the greatest of care. Thoughts of herself left her mind completely as she focused in on how hurt he was.

He took a wipe to her skin and with delicate strokes prepared her. She reached out and touched his hand in such a manner as if to say to him: “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

He looked down at her and smiled. As he did so, another tear rolled down his face. She kept her eyes on his face as he lifted her legs and bottom into the air. A cool wipe was gently patted across her burning skin. It felt wonderful. Then he sprinkled powder across her bottom, which felt heavenly. The pain only lingered now and no longer gripped her up.

He lowered her bottom back down onto a diaper he had placed beneath her. The inner softness touched her tender skin and wrapped it in a sensation that was gentle and inviting. Still her eyes watched his streaming tears as he folded her diaper into place over her peach and fastened it at her hips.

He sat her up, supporting her neck with his hand. She threw her hands to ceiling as she slipped her into a nightie and then up into his arms. She felt so small next to his body. Placing her head on his chest, she could hear and feel his heavily beating heart.

He sat down in the rocking chair next to her crib and wrapped her in her favorite baby blanket. She found herself swaddled in softness. It was the polar opposite of what she felt a few minutes prior. His condition told her that it wasn’t easy for him to punish her as he did, but it also told her that he had to do it.

She rested her head on his chest and looked up at him, brushing away his tears with a tiny finger before he leaned her back, removed her pacifier and touched the nipple of her night time bottle to her lips. She willingly took it into her mouth and began drinking the warm milk.

She felt differently now. Her love for him went deeper than before and her submission to him had followed. He wasn’t mean at all, but instead was the most wonderful teacher she had ever had. The events of this evening were intended to help her reach a goal she passionately pursued her whole life …

A sense of not only feeling but also being “Complete” within her own mind.

They kept eye contact now, but didn’t say a word to one another. They didn’t have to. Their eyes stated everything that needed to be said.

She looked at him and could hear what he would’ve said at that moment … had he been able to:

“I don’t ever want to have to do that again. But I need you to understand why it happened and why you must never question me. Your pain is slowly going away. Mine will be with me for some time to come. On this night, my heart was punished.”

He looked at her and read what was on her mind:

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I understand why you spanked me and why you had to make your point very clear to me. Your point is now my point and I’ll never disobey your trust or love for me ever again. I now offer you my submission without question.”

He stood up and traded the bottle from her lips for the return of her pacifier. Lowering her into her crib, he covered her with her blankets and placed her teddy bear in her arms. She rolled over onto her tummy as he kissed her on the forehead, patted her diapered bottom, turned on her nightlight at the wall socket and exited the room.

Her thoughts came alive as she lay there, trying to go to sleep. It was true punishment, intended to correct her infractions, but to teach her to never disobey again. She felt a sense of love for him in that he had corrected her behavior. She knew she would never disobey him again. She would always follow his instructions, even if he weren’t there to watch her.

This promise she made to herself made her smile. It reassured her that she was now completely submissive to him and having that reassurance gave her purpose in a sense of being complete. She could see her future so clearly now and she knew exactly what she needed to do and what was expected of her. There were no longer any uncertainties or questions.

She fell asleep with a peace of mind she had never known.

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……….………. The Dark Age Play Box Sets

Sticky Situations 1 - 5 Front Gratification 1-5 Gratification 6-10 50 Things

Sticky Situations: Books 1-5
Gratification: Books 1-5
Gratification: Books 6-10
50 Things To Do With Your BabyGirl On A Saturday Night

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If you’re a fan of the darker age play, I would also recommend reading:

The VoiceThe Voice – A tale of horror, unavoidable consequences and possible redemption of self.

KindleLulu PaperbackCreateSpace Paperback

 

7 responses to “TearDrops on Hardwood Floor

  1. radiantbabygirl

    *shivers*

    This will always be one of my favorite stories…you never do forget the first one.

  2. Pingback: Gratification: Fantasies and Punishment | zorroabdaddy.com

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  4. This is beautiful. I could feel her emotions, made me cry.

  5. Pingback: Gratification: Fantasies and Punishment | zorrodaddy.com

  6. Pingback: Gratification – Box Set 1: Books 1-5 | zorrodaddy.com

  7. Pingback: The Dark Age Play Box Sets | zorrodaddy.com

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