It’s true. I’m a brat that will mouth off and start running her mouth like no other. Here’s a fantasy I had during class today instead of paying attention:
Me: “Good boy, Daddy! Such a good job!”
“Why are you counting? One what? Helloooooo meanie.”
“What, why are you counting? Will you speak English please. You’re such a bully. This isn’t funny.”
“I don’t understand. Bad boy, Daddy. That’s bad behavior.” i start laughing at my own joke
“Four, five, six.” His eyes narrowing, I start to catch on.
Going silent, I slowly start backing away from Daddy.
“Um let’s be rational about this, okay? I didn’t mean anything by those comments, um I was just being silly… we like being silly… right daddy?” I say my voice cracking.
“Seven, eight, nine.” He says stalking toward me until he’s cornered me against the wall, towering over me. I’m shaking like a leaf, looking down at my feet, panting. I don’t know what the numbers mean but I can only guess it’s not good. Nine edges? Nine hours of overstimulation? Nine days without cumming? Nine smacks on my bottom? On my clit? My heart is racing.
“What? You’ve got nothing to say now, little one?
Keep pissing me off, love. I enjoy punishing you. It’s music to my ears when you cry.”
He says forcefully grabbing my chin, making me look into his eyes.
I glare at him, hating how my body responds to the rush of adrenaline and terror. Refusing to speak.
“Awe now you’ve gone silent? That’s okay love.
I’ll make you talk, you’re about to learn some manners—and that glare makes ten. I hope running that smart mouth was worth it, but I think your about to have some regrets.
Awe don’t cry love, you’ll be my good girl again by the time I’m done with you. But for next ten days your bratty ass is in a world of trouble.”
