Cat's Tantrum Spanking

Preface

I grew up in a small farm community and was homeschooled. I left at 18 to go to college and met my boyfriend. He was smitten with me, but often frustrated by my decisions. At some point he threatened to leave unless....

Cat's Tantrum Spanking

I tiptoed into the kitchen where my incredibly hot boyfriend was unloading the dishwasher. There were few things sexier to me than a man willing to do housework. Bent over trying to manage as many utensils from the holder as possible, I had a perfect view of his backside. In a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days, I watched his back muscles constrict through the thin material. I really wanted to just take a chunk of his butt in my hand and squeeze. I had other plans right now though.

I cleared my throat. "Daddy can I go out with Rosa and Elanie tonight? I.."

"No."

He never bothered to turn around. Grrrr and he didn't let me finish. "I promise I'll be home before 10 and..."

"No."

I stamped my foot lightly. "Let me finish! I won't drink..."

"No and No." He looked completely passive about the whole exchange. It wasn't fair he just got to blindly say no to me. I stood with my hands on my hips staring him down while he casually continued to sort the silverware into the drawer. The clanking irritating me.

I swallowed and tried again knowing I was pushing my luck. "Last time was..."

The drawer closed with a thud and he turned to make eye contact. My words sort of drifted off at the look on his face. "Last time you were so drunk when you walked into the house an hour late, I had to help you take your clothes off. For an entire hour I had no idea where you were. It was the longest hour of my life, Cat. The time before that wasn't much better. The answer is no, and if you ask me again, you'll be grounded for the next week." He maintained his eye contact looking stern and unrelenting.

Damn it. I stomped my foot loud and hard this time and swung around so I could go upstairs and pout by myself. I should have known he wouldn't like my little display. As I made my way out of the kitchen, he caught up to me conveniently next to my spanking chair. I was pulled over his lap before I even knew what was going on.

I tried to right myself because it felt like I was going to fall off even though I knew he would never let that happen. My legs kicked up and I grasp for the round metal wrung. Daddy violently pulled my leggings and panties to my thighs and started. He always warmed up so the first few slaps never really hurt, but it didn't change I knew what was coming.

"Please Daddy, let me explain." He said nothing as he patted all over my behind. The inner and outer sides of my thighs, my swells, my sit spot. Not a word while he pulled me closer to him with his other hand.

"I'm sorry. I just really wanted to go. I would be good. I wanted to show you that I could be trusted now." The slaps started to get harder. He always ramped up so I'd never know how hard he would go.

I didn't get spanked very often. I was his good girl he said. But he kept the solid metal chair in the center of the wall as a reminder. I hated it. With its modern wood finishing just on the sides, the high back and minimalist design reminded more of an electric death chair with no arms. Not, an inconspicuous piece of furniture designed for sitting with an implement table casually at its side. A table he made me pick out because he said I was better at home décor. I tried to pick the ugliest one. That got me a hard swat in the middle of the home store, so I didn't push it.

We often get compliments on our living room and if they point out the setup, Daddy has no problem telling them what it's for. Although to his credit, he says it's mostly just a reminder for me to be good.

It was really starting to hurt. "Daddy, please stop. Please. I'll be good. I won't pout anymore."

I turned my head to see his face. As usual, nothing. He keeps a very placid look whenever he spanks me. He says he needs to concentrate so he doesn't hurt me. I don't know how he could think that. I was hurting very much right now.

As I thought that, the slaps become harder. They were almost unbearable. I wasn't a masochist by any sense of the word, but I could handle my pain with the best of them. Even still, it was amazing how in tune he was to me. He always took it just one step farther than I could stand. He had spanked me for five minutes and thirty minutes. Each time it didn't matter. It was just enough for me to learn my lesson.

"OOOWWWW" Each crack echoed through the room and I hardly knew where one stopped before the next one hit. He slammed his palm three times on my sit spot, and I squirmed. He stopped and I cringed. I knew he wasn't done. I was just supposed to lay there and take it. I got in trouble when I squirmed.

His hand rubbed the heat menacingly. "I'm sorry." I wined.

"What happens to naughty girls when they squirm?" His voice was so deep, clear, and concise. The words came out slowly and I shivered.

"They have to be restrained." My voice, on the other hand, was hoarse and cracking. Sometimes I had no idea how he found me sexy.

"AAAAnnnnnddddd what happens when YOU are restrained?"

I clung at his knee. I hated saying it. I wished more than anything I hadn't squirmed. I didn't want to say it.

"Cat. Now. Answer the question."

"I'm sorry." I avoided.

"Not what I wanted. What happens if I have to restrain you?" I couldn't help shaking at his voice. His hand had stopped rubbing my bottom but was resting on just one side. It felt like fire blazing through just one buttock and the uneven sensation was making me crazy. I had to say it just so he'd move his hand.

"A marathon session with your belt." I let out a high pitch groan as my body went limp over his knee. The truth is, he'd never done it. He had never restrained me while he punished me, but the image of being tied and unable to move while he rained licks on my poor ass was enough torture to make me behave.

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" His voice softened just a little. It meant that he couldn't hold my waist and I would have to control my balance, but I liked the intimacy. If that made any sense.

I pulled my arm from his knee and he bent it behind my back and clasp it like two lovebirds. Then he went back to the assault. Over and over he hit EVERY SINGLE cell of exposed skin. Hard and punishing, there seemed to be no end in sight. My mouth began to water, and he stopped for a second to rub. I whimpered. There was nothing I could say at this point.

"We should have one of those OSHA cards here that tell how many days it's been since Cat had a spanking." His rough hands soothed the heat. I grunted my disapproval. "It has to have been a couple months." I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was looking down at my red butt and trying to remember the last time I was in this position.

"Last month." I protested.

He hummed. "That one didn't count. That was a good girl spanking. You liked that one." I did.

Half of the hurt from one of Daddy's spankings is from the pain. The other is from the lecture and his disappointment in me. I always knew a spanking wasn't over because he hadn't given the lecture yet. It was always followed by more spanking. The hard part was that he didn't forgo the ramping up. So, after I got talked to, he started where he left off and I knew it was only going to get harder.

"Cat. You know better than to pout because you don't get something you want. When I say no, I mean no. Those girls are bad news. Even if you went out with them and acted like a perfect angel, I don't trust them to not put you in some precarious situation. But you aren't getting a spanking because of them, you are getting it because you acted like a spoiled five-year-old. You know better than that. You will respect me and my decisions. Cat, who is in charge here?"

Ugh. I wish he didn't ask me questions. "You are daddy."

"Right. And the reason I'm in charge is because I know what's best. I know little girls who think they are invincible make bad choices. Choices that might take you away from me. Something that I need to live. Do you understand me Cat?"

"Yes. Daddy." I suddenly wanted to cry. I didn't like to hurt him. I might have been wasted, but the scene when I walked in the door that night will always be branded in my memory. He wasn't mad. He wrapped my limp intoxicated body in his strong hold and held me for what felt like forever. The look on his face killed me.

But I was jolted from my misery with six hard slaps.

"Next time I tell you something you don't like; I want you to think about why I might be giving you that answer instead of being selfish and juvenile." He sat for a few seconds stoic. Then he started again.

I couldn't keep still. I tried my best not to squirm, but the pain was so intense, all my butt wanted to do was get away.

"Oooooowwwwww Daddy, it's too hard." I cried. No response but I swear he turned it up a notch. From what I could tell, my backside was a deep red. This was definitely going to be a bruiser. I felt like I was being punished too hard for the mere stomp and pouty exit. I had to imagine he was making up for lost time.

I finally couldn't take it anymore. I felt my eyes start to sting. These last few were so hard and fast I felt out of control. Not like I had any semblance of control the whole time, but now I felt resigned.

"Please......." Two more 10s on the Richter scale and he stopped. He commenced rubbing and my body went limp over his knee. I didn't want to cry, so I concentrated on biting the inside of my mouth. The emotional impact of his spankings were just as exhausting as the physical.

After three years of being together and probably a hundred spankings, most of them in the first year, I never got used to them. Punishment spankings made me feel like a failure even if I felt like he was being too hard on me. Like right now. He really did give me more than I could begin to ask for. Starting with his attention. I'd never known someone who listened like he did. He knew what salad dressing I liked, my favorite dress material, could even pick up a birthday present for one of my friends. Not to mention the full Sundays of worshipping my body. We often spanked for play, but they were more pats on the ass than anything. This, this was cruel.

After a minute of silence and rubbing, he reached into the small drawer on the table that held the implements. I counted my blessings that the drawer was never opened today except now. A week after the drunken' incident, I had cane marks, and welts for days. One might have said he went a little too far. The truth was, when he was done, I begged him to keep going. I earned that punishment and owned up to it. Tonight, I just really wanted to show him that I had learned from my training. He wouldn't give me the chance though and I resorted to some early relationship antics. He had been hard on me back then too. You would have thought I'd learn my lesson.

He pulled the tube of witch hazel out and carefully rubbed it in while I sighed. It felt so good. So healing and cool. He didn't miss anything as he slid under the swells and softly treated the thighs. When he was done, he pulled me to my feet in between his legs.

His fingers started at my forehead and lightly eased down my face, neck, shoulders, to my hips. With both hands on either side he pulled me closer and kissed my belly button. Daddy's aftercare was always the best.

He stood and wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer. For a minute he held me while he rested his chin on my head. I closed my eyes on his chest and sunk into him.

"Cat, I don't know what I would do without you? Every day I come home from my shit job and see your pretty face, it makes me want to do it again the next day. I worry about you. I don't like that you ask me things like this. I want to know we are making headway on your training. Learning to make better choices, but I don't see it. When they called, your first instinct should be to say no."

I felt my face getting hot. I was getting better and I was making better choices. He had just finally bought me a car last week because he said he could trust me with it, and now he was saying I wasn't progressing.

I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on me and moved his hand down to the still exposed affected area as a warning.

"You go out with your friends." I accused.

"And so do you, baby." I didn't miss the rubbing. I tried to keep my temper in check. I did not want to be back over his knee. "I love almost all your friends. Even your guy friends that it took some time to get used to, but not them. I have no problem with you going out. You have shown me lately that you don't take things too far, and I'm proud of you for it. But I won't let you go out with them. I'm not sorry. The answer on that topic is always going to be no."

I hated this part of the relationship. When he pointed out to me that I was a submissive, it seemed right up my alley. Everything he explained and showed me was such a turn on that I wouldn't have been able to go back if I wanted. But it came at a price. He wasn't going to give me all the good. I had to take some of the bad. He also said that even if I didn't think I wanted it, my body did. Which brings us to...

The clicking of moisture as his fingers played around between my folds echoed in the room. I moaned as he moved the juices over my clit carefully. His head tilted down and I felt his breath on my ear. "That's a good girl. I know what you need. Your body knows what you need. You obey me and you'll have everything you need." His lips moved and he planted the softest most delicate kisses down my jaw. His cologne wafted up my noise and only made me more wet.

Oh God. It felt so good. He pulled his finger from inside me and brought it to his mouth and licked it once while I watched. The he pushed it between my lips. "Suck." I did as I was told and tried to keep my eyes on him, I was struggling. He pushed his finger to the back of my throat and I gagged.

When he pulled it out, he grabbed my face. Hard. His tongue shot between my shocked lips and tore through the inside of my mouth commanding everything it touched. I tensed from the invasion. One hand moved to my hair and grabbed my ponytail. Fast as lightening he had it wrapped around hand. He ripped my head from his face with such force I scrambled to catch my breath.

"Fuck! You are so hot." He sucked hard on my neck and I pushed at his body. So much power. I was dizzy. He tore himself away again and headed for the couch. I guessed. Except his hand was still in my hair and my pants were at my ankles. I stumbled and almost fell, but he caught me and wrapped an arm around my waist and heaved me onto the couch. His hand fell from my hair so he could remove the lower part of my clothing.

Juices flowed from my vagina. The show of force and violence was such a turn on for me, and I'd never know why. My upbringing couldn't have been docile. I'd never seen a gun in real life, my parents didn't believe in raising their voice. Why I got so turned on when he manhandled me, I would never know. Nor would I change it. My groin pulled tight at the sight of him standing over me. He pulled his shirt over his head and as usual I gawked at his chiseled frame. He was such a fine piece of work and I found myself in the other usual predicament where I wondered what he saw in me. Right now, I was a sweaty mess from the pain, and I was sure my makeup was running. But he never looked at me as anything other than affectionate. Or, well, in this case like a tiger going for a kill.

He fell to his knees on the carpet and opened my legs. I squeaked. I was sitting on our soft velour couch, but unless I was sitting in a doughnut tub of cool water, nothing was going to feel acceptable to my poor abused ass. He grinned to the side, and I almost said something, but his finger moved to open my folds.

"Spanking you like that takes it out of me." His knuckle massaged my clit and my back arched on the couch. "Is there something you want to say to me for all my work?"

My head fell to the side. "Oooooohhhhhh" I groaned. The finger moved into my hole to sop up more juice then moved back to my clit.

"Do I need to give her a spanking too or are you going to answer me?" I didn't want that right now. I knew what he wanted, and if I was going to get what I wanted, I needed to give him what he wanted.

"Thank you for spanking me." I belted out with a particularly loud ending from the pinch to my clit.

He grunted approval. "That's right. I will always be here to give you correction when you need it. Now, since I worked so hard, I'm going to give myself a little reward. You are not to move. You are to keep your hands behind your head clutching the sofa. Do not come unless I tell you. I think your ass might appreciate that." I clenched at the thought.

His hands spread my thighs and I cried out at the first long lick his tongue took from the very back of my lips to the top of my clit. How I could count every pore as it made contact, I'll never now. But he was excruciatingly slow. I wished it would never stop. I want to feel his mouth when I am grocery shopping or during a movie.

I couldn't help the high pitch grunts, but he told me those were always ok. He would rather know I was enjoying it than have me be silent. Good thing. I couldn't hold it in if I had to.

His soft velvet tongue was like a snake. It slivered back and forth from each side of my clit as I tried to control my breathing. There was nothing as good as Daddy's tongue. He nibbled a little with his teeth and I almost cried. The pressure was so intense that I was almost scared of these orgasms. They would wreck my body and I'd convulse. I was used to not being in control of my own body because Daddy mostly controlled it, but the convulsions could be frightening. He always talked me through it and told me I was good and how much he loved me, but I was still scared. Today was going to be one of them.

His hands spread my hole wider and his tongue played around while I clawed at the couch. This position often worried me because I had been known to queef. He loved it he said, but I found it horribly embarrassing.

Not today though. Two fingers replaced his tongue and it returned to tease me in front. "Please." I accidently spit out.

A hard smack landed on my inner thigh and I shrieked.

"You have a problem following directions? Do you need me to get reinforcements?" I shook my head and sucked in my lips.

"No fucking talking. You'll come when I'm ready." As punishment he edged me a few times and I moaned out in frustration. The last time, I was just about to come when he pulled up and flipped me on my stomach. He pulled my shirt over my head and released my bra. I threw them to the side.

"Fucking beautiful. You turn such a perfect color. I wished it stayed like this forever." His hands soothed the heat and I purred into the couch cushions. I felt something cold land between my ass cheeks and I jumped.

"Relax. I really want to take you in the ass right now, but I don't have it in me to be gentle, so this is going in so you'll be more full. You already have the most magical pussy ever, but I'm greedy."

As he spoke, he had been pushing in and when he stopped, the plug popped into its resting place. I groaned deep the clawed at the cushions again at the invasion. Before I could process it, his cock slammed in pushing me forward. His hand pulled back on my shoulder.

"I own this ass. It belongs to me. I am her master." He pistoning and the offensive language only caused me to become more wet. With one knee on the couch and one on the floor, he moved with precision. Pleasure. Constant pleasure. He shifted my hip against the couch and started to play with the plug while the other hand continued to guide the act. I wanted to beg him to stop. It would be fruitless and probably get me in trouble. It didn't hurt. Plugs just felt so foreign and deviant. Like the whole world knew what was happening in this room right now with my anal glands even though obviously that wasn't the case. It felt wrong and only heightened his stature in our dynamic.