It had been a stressful few days for me, just one problem piled on top of the other. As the week started coming to an end, the anxiety built up so much that I feel like I was going to explode. And I did. I sat in bed and I cried, my face turning a blotchy red.
It was times like these when I craved a spanking the most, my skin itching at me for those beautiful welts and bruises that quieted my mind. I needed Daddy to hurt me, to take all the stress away. And I needed it now! I grabbed my phone and sent him a text.
"Daddy I need you."
"I'll be home soon babygirl, what's wrong?"
"I'm so stressed and I feel like giving up. I need a spanking."
"I'm so sorry, Princess. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No Daddy. Please..."
"Okay. I'll be home from work in 30 minutes. You know what do to."
I did know what to do, because we had done this before. I opened the bottom drawer of the bedside table and picked out the implements one by one. I arranged them in order across the foot of the bed. First were the ones he enjoyed using on me, second were the ones I liked the most, and third were the ones I hated.
I sat each one down and lined them up perfectly, took off my shirt and panties and threw them into the dirty laundry basket, then assumed my position on the bed - face down, ass up, legs spread. I don't know how long I was waiting there in anticipation, but eventually the front door opened and footsteps made their way down the hall. I heard him walk into the bedroom and stop behind me and I could almost feel his gaze on my bare skin.
He came up beside me and trailed his fingers softly up my back, causing me to shudder. Then he grabbed me by my hair and pulled my head up, forcing me to look at him. He spoke softly and it felt like a contradiction.
"I'm going to hurt you, babygirl. I'm going to cover you in marks that will be sore for days. You're going to cry and scream for me before it's over. Are you ready?"
I nodded. He kissed me on the forehead, said "that's my girl," then let go of my hair. My body began to stiffen as I anticipated the first blow. I didn't know what he was going to use or when he was going to start, which made it that much more exciting. Soon I felt the snap of the leather belt against my right ass cheek and I groaned, letting out a sigh of relief. He brought it down on me four more times and I smiled as my body jerked with each hit. The belt was my favorite, and I was silently thanking him for choosing it first.
"I'm going to hit you 10 times. Count with me."
He swung it hard and I said one out loud. He swung it even harder the second time and I said two out loud. With every hit, he put just a little more force behind it until I was biting onto the pillow and having trouble saying the numbers. Finally we got to ten but I didn't say anything. He hit me again and, again, I didn't say anything. I bit onto the pillow harder.
"It's going to keep getting harder until you say it, babygirl. Say it!"
He struck me once more, harder than all of the others, and I whimpered in pain, the last number meekly escaping my lips. He did this two more times, spanking me in sets of ten and making me count, and each time I was unable to finish saying the last number so I had to endure more severe hits. By the time he was finished, my ass was warm and red and he stroked it lovingly to ease some of the pain.