Evening Punishment

I heard the garage door open as I was relaxing on the couch. It was a little later than normal for her to arrive home but that wasn't unusual for a MD resident. After a time, I heard the door to the garage open and close. As was our custom, we did not speak and she immediately went to the bedroom to remove her clothing.

She joined me on the couch, naked except for a light robe. She laid down with her head on my lap and curled up into a fetal position. I started stroking her cheek and hair and she cuddled into me as much as possible.

"Were you a bad girl today?" She nodded. "Were you a very bad girl today?" Again, she nodded. I continued to stroke and caress her for a time before deciding to take action. "Go to the punishment room." She immediately got up and went to the spare bedroom.

There were two rooms in the house that we used for our BDSM activities, the punishment room and the dungeon (basement). We had only been living together as Master and slave for 5 years but in that time we had equipped both rooms well. We mostly used the dungeon for "pleasure"; severe activities that fed her masochism and my sadism. The punishment room was only equipped with a variety of corporal punishment instruments, a bed, some gags and some restraints. In both spaces, she would adopt a rigidly submissive posture and attitude upon entering. Outside of those spaces we would mostly adopt the roles of peers unless I would signal otherwise with a word or tone.

By nodding to my question about "very bad" she was signaling to me that she had had a stressful day and was asking me for "release." In truth, she was rarely "bad" and very rarely "very bad." But punishment was her vehicle for releasing stress, either through crying (rare) or subspace (less rare). Since I prohibited any form of intoxicants or drugs and she had no capacity for sexual response, punishment was virtually the only "self-help" method available to her.

The age difference between us was significant. She was just starting her career as a physician and I was retired. But the difference suited us well; she longed for someone to replace the father that had ignored her as a child except to administer spankings. My love for her was both romantic and paternal.

I considered the parameters for this evening's "punishment." I needed to choose a position, bindings (if any), and instruments. The punishment room was only used for traditional corporal punishments: spankings, belt whippings, caning. And the only body parts involved were the ass and back of the legs. "Very bad" signaled that she needed to have some stress relief which meant that the goal was crying or subspace. Subspace limited the positions to those where she could be supported when nearly unconscious. In most cases, that meant face down on the bed with her head turned to the side.

We discovered subspace by accident. I was administering a severe caning when she suddenly became unresponsive. Her eyes were open only slightly and tears were gently escaping. She appeared to be unconscious and I thought she had fainted from the pain. But she would react very slightly to the blows and some weird sounds would come from her throat. We later decided that she had entered subspace and it became a desirable goal for our sessions.

I decided that tonight she would be positioned face down on the bed and bound in the "T position," arms out and feet together. Sometimes I would insert an anal plug that protruded enough that the paddle would strike it and add another element of pain, but not tonight. The choice of implement was more difficult but I decided on the Lexan paddle. The pain from it was intense and severe and since I wanted to get her to subspace, it was an appropriate instrument.

Having made my decisions I entered the punishment room and closed the door. She was standing in the corner with her hands behind her head, the proper position when waiting for punishment. I paused and admired her. She was gorgeous with a curvy shapely body that I adored. True, I would have preferred an ass that was easier to mark but her "buns of steel" were more practical for us; we didn't need to be so concerned about medical appointments.

I was horny tonight and wanted to fuck her but that was something we rarely did. I was obsessed with her large boobs and wanted to slap and pinch them but that detracted from the current scene; good Daddys didn't play with their daughters boobs.

"On the bed, face down, T position" I ordered. She obeyed without hesitation and I fastened the cuffs on her wrists and bound her ankles together with a Velcro strip connected to the bottom of the bed. I took the Lexan paddle down from the hook on the wall and addressed her: "Since you have been very bad, you will be severely spanked until you cry." We both knew that crying was unlikely because she wasn't a crier but the message was that there was no specific count and she did not need to count the strokes out loud.

We had found that having her count was a distraction and when we were seeking subspace, her focus needed to be on the pain, the paddle, and the futility of struggling. We wanted her brain to feel trapped with no escape except the semi-conscious state of subspace.

The first time, after she "came to," we talked about the experience since it was new to both of us. She said it was a very pleasurable, calm, peaceful place. She could hear me talking and she could feel the blows but no pain registered. Her mind, which normally was a cacophony of thoughts and ideas, was empty, like a meditative state. She said at that time that it was the most peaceful place she had ever been. Later we discovered that it was a great source of relief from stress for her and she begged me to take her back.

Over time we learned more about it. When in subspace, she had no motor control at all, even to the point of not being able to swallow. So I learned that it was necessary to make sure her airway was clear and her mouth and nose unobstructed so she could breathe. This meant gags were off limits when attempting subspace.

I grabbed the bottle of baby oil and rubbed down her ass and thighs so they were shiny. I had never decided if this increased the pain or made the experience more pleasurable; I just enjoyed rubbing her ass and seeing it shine. Now it was time to start spanking.

I started slowly paddling her with a medium windup so she was getting a firm stroke every 5 seconds. She squirmed a bit and there were little grunts when each stroke landed but she was not a screamer. I steadily increased the rate until I was slamming her ass once every second. And I also steadily increased my windup so the strokes landed harder.

The danger was always that I would tire before she had enough or was in subspace. She never used her safeword and rarely begged for me to ease down. She was a true masochist and wanted all I could give. Now I had both hands on the paddle and was winding up like I was hitting a major league pitch. After about 10 minutes of this, her reaction to the blows started to get less pronounced. I continued but carefully watched her face until I thought she had left our universe.

I stopped and looked at her face carefully. Eyelids were barely open and a tear or two was escaping. She was breathing very regularly and slowly and was not moving a muscle. She was in subspace.

Through trial and error I had decided that a spank every 5 seconds would tend to keep her in subspace so that's what I did. On some of the blows she moaned a bit but not all. Her body was motionless except for her ass reacting to the impact.

I laid down on the bed next to her and covered partially covered her with a light blanket, keeping her ass exposed for "maintenance spanks." I leaned over and kissed her cheek and ears and whispered into her ear how much I loved her and that Daddy would take care of her. I knew that should could hear what I was saying but did not process any of the meaning. I also laid a hand towel on the bed next to her face to soak up the drool that was dribbling out of her mouth.

After about 20 minutes, she started to come out of it and her eyes opened. She had a very peaceful, well-rested and loving look on her face. She always said that the stress and regrets of the day would vanish during her time in subspace and were not likely to return.

After a time, I would get restless and want to move on with our evening. I would order her into the corner for more corner time and would inspect her ass for damage (unlikely). Then I would take a picture and post it on our web site. Every punishment got a picture.

We would have dinner before settling down on the couch for the evening. Now was the time for her to show gratitude and love for the care I had given her. Since she had no sexual response, acts of sexual intimacy did not come naturally to her so I had trained her to worship my cock. Since she never felt sexual desire, I trained her to express her love for me through her mouth and hands on my cock. I had used porn videos to show her technique and has purchased a flexible dildo for her to practice on. The result was satisfactory and very pleasurable.

Through the use of cushions, we had made her a comfortable seat on the floor and I had my seat on the couch. After asking "Daddy, may I please you?," she would start the process of kissing and licking my balls, cock and sometimes, anus. Orgasm was not necessarily a goal although it was welcome when it happened. She never learned to tolerate the taste of cum so most of the time I allowed her to spit it out into her hand. Even if I didn't cum, it always felt wonderful and was a form of stress relief for me.

When it was time for bed, she always begged to be restrained. Tonight I chose to handcuff her wrists in front of her. I also added cuffs to her ankles with a long chain so she could hobble to the bathroom without being released. Once in bed, we snuggled and drifted off to sleep.