The Perfect Way to Start the Day – The Grat Option

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The Grat Option –

Mack kept his hand inside the open nightstand drawer.  There were several different things he could pick up from inside it.  Some she needed, presently.  Some she wanted.  And he knew it.  It was one of many moments of realization with him that made her tingle with the mere thought that he already knew the key to her arousal.  And with an ever-steady pacing, he commanded her heart as well as her mind and as well as her body.  There was a delicate mixture of sensations and anticipation needed to break her out of the comfort of the moment, thrusting her forward with impressions that were certainly anything but delicate.  But that was the point: to redirect her down of pathway that wasn’t her choosing but rather, her duty to follow.  And as she watched him taking that wooden paddle with the holes in it out of the nightstand drawer, she tingled all over, regressing to submission without missing a heart beat to skip.

“This is gonna be a red bottom day for you,” Mack said with a calm, yet aggressive tone as he clenched the handle of the paddle.

Emmie trembled, helpless to even lower her legs back to the bed.  She wasn’t nervous or scared.  Rather, she was absorbing the knowledge that within a few minutes, this day would completely change for her – shifting into a utopia she would feel to her core, beginning with an introduction only skin deep.

Gripping the paddle with his right hand, he placed it squarely and flatly on her diapered bottom – holding it there as he unfastened the diaper tapes at her hips.  Reaching back into the nightstand, he took out the small plastic tub of wipes, setting them alongside her on the bed.  She could feel the aggression he was holding back as he lowered the soaked front of her diaper.  Rocking back a bit, she lifted her bottom in the air, feeling the cool wipes bringing relief to her warmed skin.  It was another mixture of opposite thoughts that began the unraveling of her disposition.  And as he slid the wet diaper out from underneath her, taking it to the floor alongside the bed, she shuddered inside – knowing that her disposition would be changed by another position … that of her kneel alongside the bed.

Following the instruction of his snapping fingers, she crawled down to the floor and knelt in the middle of her wet diaper, placed beneath her as knee pads but would also sere another more practical purpose.  She drew her knees together and leaned forward, placing her forehead on the edge of the bed and stretching her arms out onto the mattress before flattening her palms and crossing her wrists.

It was always the anticipation that did the greatest amount of work on her mind.  The pain of a paddling was temporary and she would heal, but those moments beforehand, waiting in position and silence, spent a lifetime inside her – pressing her forward, just a bit more each time, to fall to pieces before him.  And in her wait came the vision of him winding up his right arm and swing down a strike that not only leave a throbbing impression but would also modify her behavior in whatever way he saw fit.  The anticipation of that first thwap, coupled with her imagination, made her drip.  And with the only current of air working its way through her thigh gap, she breathed deeply from her nose, concentrating hard on clenching that pacifier nipple between her teeth.  Starting off this day with a little pain in the right place seemed perfect in so many ways.  She didn’t want the memories of this day to be like or to feel like any ordinary day.  So, beginning in a different place in her mind would certainly make for memories far more intense and uncommon that the usual.

She felt a current of wind behind her and quickly froze rigidly to receive his first offering.  And with a mighty thunderous swing, Mack delivered the broad side of that paddle, planting it squarely across the center of her bottom with a thud that made it sound like he had connected with wet skin.  He kept the paddle pressed against her bottom, allowing the holes to continue to dig into her cheeks.  Emmie bit into her pacifier nipple, sinking her teeth into it further as the initial pain sunk further into her bottom.  It always began as something she could handle with typical stamina, but Mack knew how to make every swing connect and how to leave every second afterwards with enough time to begin a correction she so richly craved.

The second rush of air joined with the release of that paddle from her bottom.  And before she had time to breathe through the pain, he swung again, connecting in the exact same spot and pressing the paddle into her cheeks harder afterwards to allow the surface to soften just a bit more.  She whimpered behind her pacifier and then whimpered harder when he removed the paddle from her bottom.  She could feel the slight swell beginning to form across a back seat that had started resembling a red domino chip.  And as the pain spread across her backside, from hip to hip as her mind tried to disperse the pain from the landing zone, her eyes welled up with tears.  It really didn’t hurt as much as it pressed her towards an ache that brought together the pleasure in pain.

Another rush of air behind her preceded the third strike of that wooden paddle.  And before she had time to start crying, the tears from her eyes rolled down to the front of her cheek bones and fell to floor, landing in the wet diaper she knelt on.  The sting grew but she knew she wouldn’t feel it for much longer.  Once her mind had had enough of the pain, it would separate her thoughts from her nerve-endings, making her go numb.  And that would be when the mind games would truly begin.  For the moment, however, she felt the sting of enflamed skin as its burned traveled up into her lower back and down into the back of her thighs.  If she could just get through the present ache, she would gladly follow where the after took her.  But Mack was very good at making the moment last, giving her that sense of helplessness that only added to the tingle inside.

The fourth landing of the wooden paddle startled her, cracking her skin with such a force that it jolted her out of her thoughts and into further alertness.  But as if her mind was counting the seconds for her, she felt that last twinge of pain before her backside went numb.  Detaching from sensation, she detached from reality – not even feeling the pee which had begun to trickle out of her and down the front of her thighs into the diaper she knelt on.  And with a head that was suddenly hungry for something to replace those sensations of pain, she became trapped with a sudden need for direction.  Her breathing picked up as did her whimpering.  Feeling lost was merely the beginning of a journey towards a guiding submission that would be as instinctive as blinking.

The fifth crack of the wooden paddle landed on her bottom, but she felt nothing from it … at least nothing physical.  And it was at that instant that the correction truly took full force.  In a matter of a few seconds, she sensed her free will breaking apart and she cowered to him more than at any moment before it.  Twitching and shaking, she did her best to remain calm as he gently lifted her back up onto the bed and onto her back.  She couldn’t even feel the softness of the covers beneath her.  Nursing from her pacifier, she gazed up at him with a tear-stained face.  And his aggression mellowed to a smile.

Her heart leapt for joy as the warmth in his face made clear how proud he was of her and her loss of independent thought was sudden satisfied with the knowledge that her Daddy was happy with her.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she felt the wipes on the front of her thighs and between her legs again.  Drifting between reality and a headspace that seemed calm suddenly, she watched him as he slid the new diaper underneath, coated her with powder and folded the front of the diaper up and into place, fastening the tapes at her hips.

And by the time he lifted her up into his arms, carrying her out of the bedroom to the living room for breakfast, she had settled into a state of utopia – somewhere in between reality and the fantasy being lived.  Resting her head on his shoulder for the carry, she smiled contentedly behind her pacifier.  This had truly been the perfect way to start the day.

Read the Saga Option
Read the Yittlin Option
Return to The Perfect Way to Start the Day
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………………….. The HodgePodge Series

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From Sun Up to Sun Down: The ABDL 3-Way Experience
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Deja Vu: Inamorata to Illuminati
Snake Eyes
The Crinklebury Tales
60 Degrees and Down the Crack
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Forever Young
A Girl Named Love

3 responses to “The Perfect Way to Start the Day – The Grat Option

  1. Pingback: The Perfect Way to Start the Day – The Yittlin Option |

  2. Pingback: The Perfect Way to Start the Day – The Saga Option |

  3. Pingback: The Perfect Way to Start the Day |

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