Ahh, I just spent Wednesday night through today (Sunday) with daddy. She lives in the Midwest and I’m in the Deep South, but this time, she drove here instead of me hopping on a bus.
We had an amazing and perfect time–it was the balance of everything we love: D/s, DD, DDlg and straight up US.
The big “whew” for me? Taking care punishments I’d earned over the past couple months.
I had 40 with her belt, 10 with our cane and 20 with daddy’s hand. Most of my offenses were attitude or being bratty. I don’t forget my daily chores anymore, so no punishments for that during this past visit.
Daddy also added a few hairbrush spanks and leather paddle spanks. I’m used to our paddle now, but it was my first time with a wooden hairbrush. I was shocked at how MUCH it hurt! I was yelping “ouch!” or “daddyyyy” after a few smacks. I’m a big fan of thud and that hairbrush delivered some thud with a lotta sting!
Speaking of sting, Daddy’s belt has holes with metal rivets and those suckers BITE. But I didn’t have any broken skin from our previous caning and belting, so I wasn’t too bad off.
Thankfully, daddy spaced out my punishment sessions with the belt and cane. Last night, daddy told me to take off my pants and panties and she bent me over the end of the bed so we could play with the cane. It’s one of my favorite implements. It hurts a lot and even more so when I’m bent over and my skin is stretched as opposed to lying flat in the middle of the bed.
So, I was bent over and daddy landed 3-4 strikes on my ass and I was struggling. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was our first time playing with the cane where I was bent over and not lying down. I’d also made it through all of my punishments in the couple of days prior so my butt was pretty tender. I asked her to slow down, please, and give me a little more time between cane strikes. She did and it helped a bit, but not much. I breathed through a few more strikes before I started babbling and saying how much it hurt and she asked me if I was safewording. I hesitated and say “no, no, I’m not” and I think she landed one more before I said “yellow.”
She dropped the cane and told me to stand. Daddy opened her arms to me and I burst into tears. Not from the pain, although it was definitely intense. But from being utterly disappointed in myself. I’ve never “yellowed” during play before. But in that moment? I was just unable to take more and we both realized it was time to stop. The pause in play turned into an unspoken “red” for us both.
Two other factors were at play that night: I recently started birth control again and was having terrible PMS. Sore as fuck nipples and bloating and what I now realize turned out to be a lower pain tolerance than I usually have. The other factor: my stomach felt super gross from a few earlier sips of Mike’s Hard Lemonade that didn’t agree with me for some reason.
As I calmed down and clung to daddy, I said, “I don’t get it! You’ve beaten me black and blue from the fronts of my thighs to the backs of them to my ass before. We weren’t even close to that this time and I couldn’t take more!”
And you know what she did next? Eased me down on my stomach on the bed and rubbed my back while she snuggled me. She reminded me that pain tolerances can change all the time depending on the situation. She assured me that she was NOT at all disappointed at me for “yellowing” and told me how well I’d done. We got dressed in cozy PJs and went back out to the couch to watch some late-night Olympics. I started having some anxiety about my earlier what I perceived to be lack of performance. I asked her if she was truly, honestly good with me. She linked my pinky to hers and in the most perfect daddy Domme way EVER, assured me that she was perfect and so was I. 💕❤️💓