Blame it on the rain

The very next day after I last posted about how I'd managed to avoid being spanked lately was the day I last got myself into trouble. It was Friday afternoon and I had the afternoon off work and had promised Daddy to do a few round-the-house tasks that have needed doing for awhile and been neglected in our busy-ness. The first was to pull the Christmas lights down from around the front door, a job we are embarrassingly late attending to. I was also supposed to go and get some groceries for dinner that night as the fridge had become Hubbard's Cupboard bare. The last thing was that I was supposed to put the towels and sheets in the washing machine and start it running. All told, these jobs would have taken me less than two hours to complete, but I just didn't do it. When I first thought about going to the food store it was raining outside and I thought to myself that I would wait an hour and go after the rain let up. That's when I started playing around on the computer.

Usually the computer is not much of a distraction for me. Because of the time difference between me and most of my online friends, it is not usually possible for me to participate in live chat, so I communicate mostly through email. However, on Friday afternoon, I found Daddy's Baby online, a girl I have often spoken with through email but have never been able to talk with live. I was so excited to chat with her having often shared our thoughts and stories via email that I completely lost track of time and didn't get one thing started that I was supposed to have done. I didn't even realise how much time had passed until I heard Daddy's key in the door.

He came inside looking cheerful and asked me what I'd decided upon for dinner. (Usually Daddy does most of the cooking because he's better at it.) I was crestfallen, and I knew I was going to get it. I hugged him tightly and whispered in his ear that I'd not been shopping. He was concerned at first and asked me if I was feeling alright. I felt tempted to fib and grab onto that excuse, but honesty won out (as well as the dread of the thermometer he always brings out when I am sick) and I haltingly confessed what had happened. When he heard the whole story he wasn't very happy with me and told me to go and shut down my computer immediately and then go to the bedroom. I typed out a shamefaced goodbye to my friend and did as I was told.

Downstairs, I heard Daddy rummaging, trying to find something in the cupboards to create some semblance of a meal. I longed to go downstairs to him and help and try to make amends, but I know better than to leave when I've been sent to the room. After awhile he appeared in the doorway and told me that it was time to eat and that we would have a little talk after supper. I followed him to the kitchen and let him spoon dinner onto my plate. I bit my tongue and said nothing about the canned yellow beans (horrid!), knowing full well that we wouldn't be eating them if I had done what I was supposed to. I ate them wordlessly, and the rest of the meal, even though I wanted to not eat a bite.

After we'd finished a very quiet, tense meal, Daddy said, "Go upstairs please and wait for me." I went, and left him to clear the dishes. Again, I wanted desperately to try and win his favour by doing this job for him, but you don't argue or disobey at a time like that.

I sat on the bed nibbling my fingernails until he finally came into the room and sat down beside me. He brushed my hair back from my face and told me to look at him, please, and I did. He smiled at me and said, "Sweetie, I'm happy you got to talk to your friend. I'm just sorry you didn't remember to do the things you promised to do." I nodded. "Well, honey," he said, "You're not in terrible trouble here, it's a minor mistake, and you just need a little something to help you remember, don't you?" I blushed and nodded again, and looked down at his hands. He wasn't holding an implement, always a relief to see. It looked as though this spanking was going to be a handspanking, and in light of that fact there was no way I was going to ask to trade it for his two-stroke-cane offer.

"You're going to have a spanking tonight, Anna," he confirmed, and though I already knew this I felt the blush burn hotter on my face. "And you're going to leave that computer off for a week to help you remember it is a privilege." I nodded again and said, yes sir. I don't know where that yes sir comes from when I'm in trouble. He's never asked me to say it, and I've never called anyone else in my life "sir", but every time he speaks to me in that tone of voice, it just happens.

"Let's go then," he said, "Come here please."

I stood up and he moved over to the chair that sits in the corner of the room. I followed him there and stood in front of him. He undid my buttons and pulled my jeans down. "Here please." As directed, I leaned over his lap and gave him my hands. My face was burning. No matter how many times we go through this old ritual, it never fails to fill me with the embarrassment of being turned over his knee for a spanking.

He rested a hand on my bottom while he spoke. "Anna, what do you think I want you to learn today?"

"You want me to learn to keep my promises and not forget things because of the computer." I whispered this into his leg. It's so humiliating having a discussion in this position. There's only one thing that makes it worse, and that's what he did next, slowly lowering my knickers to mid-thigh.

"Daddy needs to be able to trust you, Anna," he said to my bottom.
"Yes sir."
"And what do I expect when you tell me you're going to do something?"
"You expect me to do it."
"That's right, darling. You make Daddy so proud of you most of the time. I need you to remember to keep your promises so I can trust you."
"Yes sir."
"So Daddy's going to have to do what, now, Anna?"
The blush deepened. "Give me a spanking."
"That's right honey, you're going to get spanking on your bare bottom. You acted like a little girl, forgetting your responsibilities, and now Daddy's going to treat you like one. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."

With that, the spanking started. He doesn't give those mysterious "warm ups" I read about on spanking websites. When I am being punished, it hurts, and it hurts from the first spank to the last spank. My Daddy may have the hardest and the largest hands in the entire world - at least it feels that way when he's using them to spank me with them.

In between rounds of spanks, he stopped and touched my bottom and kept telling me that he loved me and wanted not to be disappointed in me. After the fourth round I started to cry, which is inevitable. I have never made it through one of Daddy's spankings without crying, and it usually has more to do with what he says than what he does. He talks to me throughout a spanking and reminds me constantly that at this time I am not a grown up who is free to do as I wish, but his little girl, accountable for my mistakes and bad decisions. By the end of the spanking I was bawling all over his pant legs and my bottom was sore and hot. He lifted me onto his lap and I cried against his chest while he comforted me.

After the tears had stopped and I rested, snuggled up on Daddy's lap, he asked me if I thought I could remember not to let the computer distract me from my chores in the future, and I assured him that I could. He put a hand under my chin and lifted my face to meet his eyes. "Good girl," he said. "There are other ways I may employ to help you remember in the future if this should happen again."

I blushed again, knowing this was likely a reference to some other sorts of painfully embarrassing reminders that he likes to use and shook my head. "No, I promise I'll remember."

"Good girl," he said again.

After a snuggle in front of the tele for a hour, Daddy gave me my bath and then tucked me into bed. It was only nine o'clock but I was exhausted. Spankings work on me just like warm milk! I was fast asleep in minutes.