A Change of Attitude

"Daddy pleeeeaaase can't I get out of the corner?" She rocked on her heels, fidgeting and straining against the rope binding her hands.

"If you want to pick up the change all over the living room, yes."

She pouted, dropped her heels again and twisted her upper body around to glare at him. "I said I was sorry for throwing the change jar."

He nodded and stared at her heels, which were now resting on the floor. "Toes. Now." He growled at her. "And I didn't tell you that you could look at me."

She huffed and pouted, but turned back to the corner and raised back onto her tip toes. Her calves were in knots, her thighs beginning to shake from the effort. "Daddy..." she whimpered, squirming again,  but otherwise staying in place.

"Is it respectful to throw things when you are angry Kitten?" His voice was calm,  but demanding.

"No Daddy." She could feel her heels dropping again, the longer she stood here,  the harder it was to maintain position. She couldn't even say, if asked, why she'd done it.

Daddy had been gone a lot for work lately.  One of his managers had just quit- no call, no show, so no warning to schedule a replacement. Daddy had to fill in some of the shifts himself until a new person was trained. She'd been alone a lot lately and he hadn't been able to dedicate as much time to creativity or growing their dynamic. She really, really didn't want to make things harder on him, she understood why he'd been gone and preoccupied, but her bratty middle-brain was less reasonable.

When Daddy had come home late the third day this week and then told her he was now going to have to work late Tuesday night, she was pissed. He'd come in and headed to the bedroom to change clothes, without kissing her or giving her any attention other than a quick hello. The change jar had been right in front of her, she'd swiped it off the shelf like a cat and stood there in defiance, awaiting his reaction. He'd turned around slowly,  looked at the coins scattered across the floor, then his icy blue eyes turned to her.

"Baby, did you do that on purpose?" His voice was calm and quiet,  but with an extra measure of control that suggested she'd better be VERY careful with her answer.

She met his eyes with what she hoped was her own cool gaze, raised her chin and put her hands on her hips.

"Yes. I did."

"Bedroom. Now." He growled.

She smiled at him triumphant. She had his undivided attention now, damn it! He stood against the open door and let her enter ahead of him, then followed her in, closing the door behind them.

She stopped halfway across the room and turned to face him. He stood, looking down at her, seeming lost in thought. It made her uncomfortable that he was outwardly so calm. He should be furious with her outburst, throwing her across the bed right now and spanking her bare ass with his big hands. Instead,  he just stood there, looking down at her. He finally broke the silence when she started to fidget and twist the rings on her fingers in circles.

"Arms up."

She smiled at him again. Ok. Here it goes. He was going to strip her down first,  then spank her. She lifted her arms and he removed her shirt, tossing it on the bed nearby. She reached up and linked her fingers behind his neck, standing on tip toe.

He looked into her eyes, his expression unreadable. Feeling suddenly unsure of herself, she kissed him lightly on the mouth, but he did not kiss her back. Instead, he reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, pulled it free of her arms and threw it on the bed as well. Awkward now, she crossed her arms over her chest,  hiding her breasts from view. He finally smiled at her, but it wasn't the smile she'd hoped for, it was instead sardonic with a hint of malice. He spun her around by her upper arms, and walked her over to the bed. He bent her over the bed and held her across her upper back and shoulders with one arm,  while roughly pulling her skirt off with the other. 

She gasped and struggled under him,  expecting swats to come next. 

"Kitten, I apologize if these are your favorites, but I'll replace them later if they are."

She started to ask what he meant, when he took hold of the waist band of her lacy panties and ripped them free of her hips.

"Daddy!" She gasped, angry and struggling under his arm. He popped her on the ass hard with one hand, leaving  big red handprints on her pale skin. Daddy only spanked her like that when he really meant business. She went still and quiet, waiting for whatever came next. He continued to hold her in place,  leaning his body over hers so that his mouth was right next to her ear.

"Now that I have your attention," his voice was low and warned of impending reprimand. She wondered for a moment of she'd actually said that out loud when she'd knocked the jar on the floor. She was sure she'd only thought it, but her stomach was full of butterflies and her head felt fuzzy... it made her second guess herself. "I'm going to let you up. Then you're going to march your sweet little ass in there and you're going to get on your hands and knees and pick up Every. Single. Coin."

Oh gods... naked? She was too body conscious. The idea of crawling around for half an hour on all fours while he watched mortified her.

"Daddy please... " she began, but he pushed her head into the bed and cracked her on the ass again,  this time in a quick,  hard series of smacks that brought tears to her eyes. She went limp and quiet again.  He waited a breath to see if she was going to need more before he continued.

"As I said, you will pick up every single coin. Then you will stack them, at my feet, from lowest denomination to highest. Then you will count them and put them back in the jar. If you miss even a single coin and I find it, I will pour the jar back out and you will start over."

She was crying now, heaving in long,  frustrated sobs at the idea of the humiliation in store for her. Daddy had never exacted such a harsh punishment- but then she had never rebelled in quite so disrespectful a manner either. He released her and let her get up. She whirled around grasping his shirt in both hands,  looking up at him with a faceful of tears.

"Daddy please... please don't make me do this... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry,  I'll never, ever..."

He turned her away from him and pushed her towards the door. She braced herself in the door frame and refused to go through it, crying. She felt him wrap one big hand in her pony tail. He pulled her away from the door, steered her back to the bed and bent her over again,  protesting all the way.  He reached into the box of toys next to their bed and still holding her in place by her hair,  pulled out the riding crop. She caught sight of it in her peripheral and fought him hard, but he leaned his arm down across her back again,  pinning her to the bed.

She didn't beg this time,  she just screamed. He brought the crop down 10-15 times,  enough to stripe her ass nicely before letting her go. "Go pick up the change."

"Daddy..." she whined weakly under him.  I... I can't.  I won't. It's...  (too humiliating) please. "

He sighed, annoyed and frustrated with her. "You WILL pick it up Kitten. And if you refuse to do it my way, you'll pay for that too." He handed her the kleenex box from their nightstand and waited while she blew her nose, then used several more to wipe her tear streaked face. "Finished?"

She handed the box back to him, hanging her head. 

"Turn around then."

She swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in her throat away. She couldn't take any more of that crop. If that's what he had in store,  she'd have to do the change as he'd asked.  He bent her over the bed and she whimpered in anticipation.

"Relax baby." His voice was softer now. She heard the sound of her strawberry lotion bottle open behind her. The scent of strawberry shortcake wafted through the room as he warmed some by rubbing it between his palms.

She inhaled sharply and held her breath while he massaged the sweet scented lotion into the welts across her backside. His big, rough hands stung at first, then felt like heaven as the soreness started to leave her.  He lingered a moment longer, letting his fingers roam down to stroke between her legs. She was so wet, it was very near to running down her thighs. She always got that way when he spanked her. When she moaned and pressed against his fingers, he stood up and pulled her to her feet.

She stood facing him, naked and quivering both in fear of what was coming and excitement from the pleasure he'd just given her. He tilted her face up to his with two fingers under her chin so that he could look down into her green eyes. 

"Are you ready to do as you're told now?"

Her eyes widened in horror at the thought of crawling around their living room for hours,  exposed and humiliated. She shook her head from side to side, trying to pull her chin away.  Tears started to well up in her eyes again, fearing another round with the riding crop... or worse.

"Ok," he said with sad resignation. "I'm sorry baby girl, but you know I can't just let this slide. You can't challenge me like that."

"I know Daddy. I'm sorry Daddy." She was too. But she was more self conscious than she was afraid of the pain. She pulled away from him,  hanging her head and went back to bend over the bed, not waiting for him to tell her or put her there this time.  She heard the toy box open behind her and stiffened,  waiting for the Swisssh of the crop before it connected with her already sore backside.

Daddy grabbed both her wrists in one hand and held them tight together. She braced herself, but he didn't spank her.

He pressed her shoulders down with his elbow. She was first confused, then worried when she felt the familiar cotton cord around her wrists that he used for tying her to the bed. So he meant to tie her down and spank her then?

"Stand up baby." He lifted her from the bed and turned her away from him. She started to struggle, thinking he meant to tie her arms above her head on the wrought iron canopy, but he guided her away from the bed instead. She stumbled and he caught her. She looked up at him and saw not anger on his face, but resignation and calm.  She relaxed and let him lead her, looking at him again in confusion when he stopped in the empty corner of the room. He turned her to face the corner, then pushed her into it, until her stiffened nipples were brushing the textured wallpaper.

"Stand on your toes Kitten." She did as instructed. He pointed to a textured flower in front of her. "Put your forehead on this flower. You will have to stay on your toes to do it." She did as instructed without argument. Being stood in the corner was humiliating,  but not even fractionally as bad as crawling naked on all fours. He leaned down and whispered against her neck, his breath warm against her ear,  sending shivery fingers all through her. She was wet, she could feel it drenching her, beginning to run down her thighs. "You are going to get very tired Baby Girl. But you must not drop your heels. This is your last chance. Refuse me again and I will make you very, very sorry." He pulled her head back by her hair to make her look at him. She could see in his eyes that he absolutely meant it. Daddy had a particular visage when he was not to be fucked with. She knew she'd better keep her forehead on that damned flower, or she'd be wishing for the riding crop or crawling around on the living room floor. 

A half hour in, neither of those was sounding all that bad. Her muscles from the tips of her toes to the middle of her back burned with the effort of trying to maintain position. Standing in one spot on tiptoe was hard enough, but it was compounded by having to lean forward and keep her forehead against the flower with her hands bound behind her back. She could feel Daddy watching her from the bed where he was working on his laptop. It was infuriating. She was exhausted, angry, embarrassed and still felt she was not getting the attention she wanted.  Yet he was paying attention, at least to her position. Every time her heels dropped, he warned her.

"Daddy pleeeeaaase can't I get out of the corner?" She dropped her heels, just for a moment, giving her Achilles tendon a rest while fighting against the rope binding her hands.

"If you want to pick up the change on my terms, yes."

She twisted her upper body around to glare at him. "I said I was sorry for throwing the stupid jar."

He ignored her tone and nodded at her heels, which were now resting on the floor. "Toes. Now. And I didn't tell you that you could look at me."

She turned back to the corner, her thighs shaking with effort. "Daddy..." she whimpered, squirming her hands against the rope again,  but otherwise staying in position.

He smiled. It wouldn't be long now.  He could tell by the way her muscles were shaking. Several more minutes passed. Her strength was giving out. She whimpered again.

"Is it respectful to throw things when you are angry Kitten?"

"No Daddy."

"Next time you are given a punishment,  are you going to do it without argument?"

She sniffed, bit her lip, tried to adjust her feet and almost fell. She recovered, moaning and crying. "Yes Daddy. I'm sorry, Daddy."

He closed the laptop and put it down,  waiting.

"I have one more punishment for you when you're finished with the corner."

She sobbed at that, but recovered and got herself back into position with effort.

"Yes Sir."

She stood another five minutes before her legs began to buckle and she was near collapse. He was there to catch her when she did. She leaned against him, letting him walk her to the bed and arrange her on her stomach. He untied her wrists and massaged where the cord had been. He rubbed more of her lotion between his palms, heating it up and working it into her body from her neck to her aching feet. She sighed and stretched in appreciation, moaning when his hands wandered from her thighs upward.

"You're very wet baby." He thrust one finger deep inside her, she tightened in response around it and moaned. He spread her moisture over her clit and rubbed until he felt it swelling against his fingertips. He could feel her excitement building- he pushed her near to the edge of climax and then stopped abruptly.

"Daddy please! Please don't stop!" She cried out, lifting her face to look at him. She reached between her legs,  trying to pick up where he left off, but he pulled her hand away and pinned it against the small of her back.  She moaned in frustration and pouted at him.

"Soon baby. You have your other punishment to get through, then Daddy will make you feel good. Are you ready?" He let go of her arm,  she linked her hands in front of her and lowered her head between them. 

From inside her hands came a muffled, "Yes Daddy." She felt him shifting on the bed and was both surprised and delighted when she looked up again to find him naked,  stretched out next to her. He was also rock hard, all of him standing at attention, waiting for her.

"Baby girl?"

"Yes Daddy?" She was eager to please him,  already running her hands over his thighs,  waiting for him to tell her she could suck on him.

"Listen carefully."

"Yes Daddy." She stopped touching him and listened, maintaining eye contact to show she was paying attention, though she found it difficult to do so.

"I want you to put me in your mouth. I want you to go all the way down, then you are going to hold that position. You are not to move your head, use your hands or suck on me. Just hold me in your mouth until I tell you to stop.  Do you understand?"

She looked at him, bewildered. This was punishment? This was going to be the easiest correction ever. She loved sucking on Daddy. She moved closer to him and gave him her wrists to hold with one hand, while he guided himself into her mouth with the other. She slid her lips all the way down to the base of his penis, holding all eight inches of him in her mouth, until the head was just at the opening of her throat. Daddy was the perfect size, he was not porn-star endowed as to cause her great pain, but thick... and more than enough to bang against her cervix when fucking her doggy style or the back of her throat when fully erect. She loved the sensation of both and had trained herself to relax and take him fully. Likewise she had learned not to gag when taking him in her mouth, even when he hit the back of her throat.

She discovered quickly that holding still was very different. Moving up and down on him meant that he rested against the back of her throat for only seconds. Holding this position and not moving was much more difficult.  She had to concentrate very hard to control her gag reflex. Her tongue, which was usually in constant motion while giving him head,  was mostly extended and pressed flat against the side of his shaft. It reminded her of when the doctor held her tongue down with those flat sticks and asked her to say, "AHHH" to look at her tonsils. 

30 seconds in, she felt a desperate need to swallow, but this proved near impossible with her tongue held flat and the head of his dick pressing against her tonsils. She tried to back off of him a bit and adjust, but he pressed her head down. 

"No princess. You must keep still.  No moving or sucking, remember?"

She managed a muffled, "Mmmh Hmmm" in response, but the act of making a sound made it worse. She gagged, tried to back off again and got pressed down into place again. She managed to stop gagging and held position, concentrating very hard on her breathing and keeping her throat relaxed.

Daddy looked at the wall clock over their bed. "That was one minute Kitten. You're going to go till five."

She didn't answer him this time, but tears pricked her eyes at the thought,  then slid down her cheeks. Daddy wiped them away, then pushed her head down again when she tried to move.  Every 30 seconds or so he had to remind her. He called out how much time she had left each time she gagged or tried to get her hands free.  She replayed throwing the change jar in the floor and wished she had dropped to her hands and knees right then to pick it all up. She wished desperately that she hadn't done it in the first place.  The concentration, the willpower it was taking to not choke on Daddy's dick...

"Four minutes. You're almost there Kitten."

She lost her focus and gagged in response. He allowed her to regain her composure,  then pushed her down one last time. She held there, listening to his breathing,  fighting the urge to swallow, wondering if the clock had always ticked that freaking loud.

Finally,  Daddy said. "Ok Princess, you can move." He let her wrists go and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "Very Good Girl. Did you learn your lesson?"

She rested on her forearms, her head down, eyes closed. He reached out and put his fingers under her chin, making her look at him. He raised both eyebrows at her, letting her know she'd better respond to his question quickly. "Yes Daddy. Should I go pick up the change now?"

He let go of her chin and sat up in the bed. "In a bit." He used her legs to flip her over on her back, then positioned himself face first between her legs. She arched her back and thrust her hips up to meet him as he lowered his mouth over her.

"Oh... Ooooh Thank you Daddy..."

"There's my Good Girl." He smiled at her from between her legs before continuing to pleasure her. Parting her labia with his tongue, he added to her wetness before pressing his tongue inside her. She panted and squirmed beneath him, he reached up and held her hips in place while fucking her with his tongue.

"Daddy... oh gods... Daddy... I'm going to... I'm... ooooooh."

He moved up to her clit, swirling, flicking and nibbling until she was breathing in short,  shallow gasps. Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her legs tensed then broke out in goosebumps. She relaxed a moment, but then her whole body went rigid again when he pressed his mouth down hard over her clit and sucked, flicking his tongue against it, forcing her to climax. She broke into waves of convulsions as she came beneath him. He plunged two fingers into her, feeling her pussy clench and release against them.