Well Trained Puppy Girl

Daddy had to give me a time-out last night.  It’s my own fault, and I’m grateful that my Daddy was so kind about it.

Daddy took me to a local munch on Wednesday night.  It was our first time at this particular munch, but we knew most of the people there from around the scene.  We had fun.  I bought my Daddy dinner; we had a few beers.  We socialized a lot.  There are some very sweet, kind souls in the BDSM community. 

One boy that we spent quite a bit of time with is Paul.  He’s a very sweet boy; Daddy and I are both very fond of him.  His Mistress was not able to be at the munch; Paul mingles easily though and we saw him moving around the room.  At one point my Daddy went over to Paul to say hi.  A little while later Paul came and sat with us. 

Paul has this long, shiny, beautiful hair down his back.  Daddy and I are both drawn to Paul’s hair.  Daddy came up behind Paul and started petting his hair.  She made a reference to an ex-boyfriend of hers that she says also had beautiful hair.  I had a hard time hearing that.

Now I’m not jealous of Paul at all.  He’s a very sweet boy and I hope that Daddy and I will grow to be friends with him and his Mistress.  For reasons I don’t entirely understand, I get jealous of Daddy’s ex-lovers.  My rational mind acknowledges that it’s stupid, that it makes no sense.  Daddy loves me.  Daddy wants only me.  The past is the past and Daddy’s ex’s are all gone same as my ex’s.  This reaction just happens inside of me.  I think I’m getting better about not giving the feeling much attention as Daddy and I create more history of our own.  Last night Daddy decided that she wants to speed up that process.

The minute I walked in the door I could see that Daddy had something on her mind.  She was a little distant, maybe calculating, maybe deciding what exactly she wanted to do, maybe working out last minute details in her mind.  I felt what was coming.  I felt a little nervous, so I pretended not to notice.  I decided to play dumb. 

When Daddy sternly told me to take my clothes off I hesitated.  I teased a little and stalled.  Was I hoping that she would change her mind?  I guess I was just nervous about what was going to happen and so I was stalling.  Daddy had me lay face-down on the massage table that she bought last week.  With my face pressed tightly into the little cut-out in the table so that I couldn’t see anything, Daddy tied ropes across the back of my head so that I couldn’t look around.  She put locking leather cuffs very tightly on my ankles and wrists.  My wrists were locked together behind my back, and my feet were locked together and secured tightly to the braces under the table.  I felt completely helpless.  With my wrists behind my back in that way and my feet and head strapped down I had no leverage at all to move around, not even a little bit.  Daddy had the massage table situated between 2 very powerful stereo speakers.  She turned on some punk rock so that I wouldn’t be able to hear her moving around the house upstairs and without a word she left me there in the basement.

As I lay there, unable to hear anything but the music, unable to see, unable to move, naked and bound, I struggled to get comfortable.  I moved my arms in this position and then that position… my arms were really the only part of my body that I could move, and I couldn’t move them very much.  My mind wandered.  I wondered how long Daddy was going to leave me down there.  Was I going to have to lie on the table all night?  What else did Daddy have planned for me? 

Daddy hadn’t really said anything to me while she was tying me up.  I wasn’t sure if I was tied to the table because of my behavior at the munch the night before, but I suspected that was the case.  Daddy had tied me really tight; I could feel that she had something on her mind.  I wondered if I should have brought up my poor behavior when I first got home, maybe apologized and begged forgiveness.  Was Daddy going to paddle me black and blue?

We have this little clock that chimes every hour in our basement.  I heard it chime; I knew some time had passed.  Still, I couldn’t hear where Daddy was or what she doing.  I didn’t know if she was upstairs or if she was standing right next to me with a whip.  I started trying to think of ways that I might be able to free myself if Daddy left me down there all night.  What if she didn’t come back at all?  Could I get free?  I didn’t dare attempt to struggle free; that might bring on more punishment than I wanted to think about.  But what if?

No, I was very securely tied to that table; I wasn’t going anywhere without Daddy’s permission.

After an hour or two of laying there completely immobile, out of no where I suddenly felt Daddy dragging something sharp and scratch across my legs, butt and back.  I squirmed and gasped, not sure what was coming next.  Daddy leaned over putting her mouth close to my ear and explained that my jealousy is not acceptable.  She let me know that I wasn’t being punished, but that I was having a time-out.  She let me know that if, in the future, I can’t handle being out in public with her that she would leave me tied to the table and go to the munches by herself.  And she asked me to acknowledge what she was telling me.  She then reached around under the massage table and placed a drinking straw into my mouth.  I couldn’t see what she was holding; at first I was apprehensive, I had no idea what I was about to drink.  For a thoroughly awkward moment I was afraid it might be urine.  But I was being instructed to drink so I drank.  Fortunately my Daddy loves me; it was yummy pumpkin soymilk.  I took a couple sips; I didn’t want to drink too much just in case I was going to be tied to the table for a couple more hours I didn’t want to have to pee.

Daddy then lightly spanked me for a few minutes, beating out a rhythm in time with the music along the backs of my legs, my butt, my back, the backs of my arms.  I couldn’t tell what she was hitting me with, but it didn’t hurt too much.  I squirmed and whimpered more from anticipation that the spanking would get more intense than from pain.  Finally Daddy asked me if I’d learned my lesson and if I was ready to get up. 

Daddy took her time slowly removing my bonds, then she had me sit up on the table so she could sit beside me and cuddle me. 

I love my Daddy so much!  I’m so grateful that my Daddy is firm but merciful. 

Thank you Daddy for taking me firmly in hand and reminding me of my place.  Thank you for taking the time to help me to be the best submissive that I can be.  I promise that I will try to be better.  I love you so much, Daddy.  I love that you want to remind me that I belong to you, that you can do what you want with me whenever you want to, and that how I behave in public is a reflection on you as my owner.  I want to make you proud.  Thank you for reminding me that I’m your beloved puppy princess.  Thank you for taking the time to help me to be the best-trained puppy girl ever.

I love you Daddy!


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