First Spanking (Continued)
This experience started here.
Pura and I had barely talked about spanking at all. We played around with an occasional love pat, especially once she had told me she liked it. In fact, in the bedroom we had even played it a little kinkier, but real discipline was all Pura's idea.
*Pura interrupts* And Pura is still kind of regretting that idea.
Nonsense! It's good for you. *SWAT* For interrupting me while I'm typing to the nice people.
The next time discipline was discussed in our lives was after Pura posted the house rules. That's right: Pura posted them. I was a little embarrased that someone would see them and start asking uncomfortable questions.
*Pura interrupts again* That's because Mistress cares what Vanilla people think and is afraid of what they will say when they learn she has a little worshipful slave girl.
That's true enough. But not about all people, mostly just my very conservative family. And Pura's family.
*Pura interrupts yet AGAIN* "Pura's" only family is Mistress. And Bethany's family can... nevermind. Mistress looks displeased at what I might have said. I'm going to go do the shopping before I get into any real trouble.
(Excuse the pause in the story while Mistress Nichole bids her beautiful Pura goodbye, and sends her to the store with her credit card)
Now that we're alone, I can tell you that the house rules are an adaptation of a set of rules in one of my fictional novels about slavery. And the book's underlying theme is that slavery is wicked. Pura loves all the books I have written, but she especially gravitates toward the ones about slavery. But more on that later.
For now, I will just tell you that she posted the rules. One of the rules is: Pura is here for Mistress' pleasure only. Again, please don't think I'm some kind of controlling, crazy, manipulative jerk. These are Pura's rules that she created! I laughingly told her I would hold her to them, but I was just joking. Slavery was play for me at this time, and I fully expected Bethany to get tired of it soon. She didn't, and the day she proved that to me is the next installment of our story.
I went to visit my father one day in the summer, before he knew much about Bethany. I had left her at home with the instruction to make dinner and vaccuum the apartment. Her answer to that was "If it pleases you, Mistress," in a seductive voice. I shook my finger at her because I knew she was trying to seduce me into staying. I left.
When I came home, I found my dear Pura asleep on the couch with one of my books on her chest. I was amused, even when I saw that she had neither vaccuumed or finished dinner. The kitchen was a mess from the beginnings of her work, but it did not bother me really.
Instead of doing anything about any of it, I removed the book and placed it on an end table. I slid myself around Pura and slept beside her, snuggling her into my arms.
She woke me some time later in an absolute hysteria! I had never seen her so very upset.
"What is it?" I asked her, concerned at this point for her health.
"It's eleven-thirty!" she cried.
I glanced at the giant clock hanging on the wall under the vaulted ceiling, and saw that she was right: it was a little after eleven-thirty at night. I had been sleeping beside her for three hours already.
"Yes, it's late," I said. And for me it really was late, because I try to be asleep by ten, like an old lady. "What's wrong with that? Let's go to bed."
"No!" she cried, but in a despairing way. "You have to eat. How long has it been since you ate?" And then she sat down on the padded footrest and dropped her face into her hands, crying for all she was worth.
I tried to comfort her, but it was no use. I was grumpy and tired, and she was inconsolable.
My readers should know that I have a blood-sugar condition that requires I eat every three hours to keep my blood sugar levels normal. I have fainted from this in the past, and was once hospitalized when illness kept me from eating for twenty-four hours. Pura has never seen anything because I'm very careful. I made the mistake of telling her about it and now she's paranoid. It scares her to think she might lose me over something so trivial. Now that you know: back to the story...
"This is all my fault!" she carried on. "I lost track of the time reading and fell asleep, and now you haven't eaten and you could die!"
A little dramatic, for sure, but it made me laugh. "I'm fine, Pura! Calm down. I'll grab a sandwich."
"No!" she shouted again, and she ran to the kitchen. "I'll do it! I should have had dinner on like you asked..." There was a lot more self-loathing and pitying than this, but for the sake of my readers, I'll just say Pura was angry at herself and complained for a long time.
While in the process of getting me a sandwich and a glass of juice, she happened to glance at that accursed list of house rules. Then the crying and self-loathing took on new heights.
In the middle of me trying to console her, and her refusing it and saying how bad she was for not putting my pleasures and needs above her own, she suddenly announced, "You have to do something about this! You have to punish me or something! I could have killed you!"
"Bethany, stop it," I ordered her. "I was never in any danger." I grabbed the sandwich from her hands, ignored the pleading look in her eyes, and walked away. "Calm down and come to bed. I'm fine."
I was not angry with her, really. I was angry with myself. It was not then nor ever would be her responsibility to make sure I had a meal every three hours. My neglect for myself had caused her upheaval. When I came home and there was no dinner on, I could have gotten a sandwich then, or even woke her up and had her finish the dinner she was preparing. I was to blame; not Pura.
It was a long time before she finally came to bed. I wasn't asleep, but I was on my bed in the dark stewing about how I could have prevented her upset. At first Pura tried to resist me, but I got ahold of her and pulled her against me. It felt like hours that I lay awake in the dark, knowing full well she wasn't asleep either. (Not a surprise considering we had taken a nap at eight in the evening!)
Finally, Pura spoke. "You said you would hold me to the rules. You should do that so this never happens again."
I was disgusted with myself, but I'm sure what carried to her was frustration. "I'm not going to do anything to you."
She squirmed in my arms, rolling over to look at me. I could barely see her face in the strip of light coming through a broken slat in the window-blind. She looked tortured. "Please?" she begged. "You could spank me. People do it all the time."
I did not believe in disciplinary spanking. I did not feel it was effective for children, and I doubted it could be for adults either. Nor was I willing to lay a stern finger on that girl's lovely bottom.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I argued, and pulled her back down to sleep. She went without a fight, and I thought the matter was dropped.
It wasn't.
Sorry to cut off again! Pura called and I'm going down to help her bring the groceries in. The conclusion of the story will come soon! Don't lose faith in me!
Pura and I had barely talked about spanking at all. We played around with an occasional love pat, especially once she had told me she liked it. In fact, in the bedroom we had even played it a little kinkier, but real discipline was all Pura's idea.
*Pura interrupts* And Pura is still kind of regretting that idea.
Nonsense! It's good for you. *SWAT* For interrupting me while I'm typing to the nice people.
The next time discipline was discussed in our lives was after Pura posted the house rules. That's right: Pura posted them. I was a little embarrased that someone would see them and start asking uncomfortable questions.
*Pura interrupts again* That's because Mistress cares what Vanilla people think and is afraid of what they will say when they learn she has a little worshipful slave girl.
That's true enough. But not about all people, mostly just my very conservative family. And Pura's family.
*Pura interrupts yet AGAIN* "Pura's" only family is Mistress. And Bethany's family can... nevermind. Mistress looks displeased at what I might have said. I'm going to go do the shopping before I get into any real trouble.
(Excuse the pause in the story while Mistress Nichole bids her beautiful Pura goodbye, and sends her to the store with her credit card)
Now that we're alone, I can tell you that the house rules are an adaptation of a set of rules in one of my fictional novels about slavery. And the book's underlying theme is that slavery is wicked. Pura loves all the books I have written, but she especially gravitates toward the ones about slavery. But more on that later.
For now, I will just tell you that she posted the rules. One of the rules is: Pura is here for Mistress' pleasure only. Again, please don't think I'm some kind of controlling, crazy, manipulative jerk. These are Pura's rules that she created! I laughingly told her I would hold her to them, but I was just joking. Slavery was play for me at this time, and I fully expected Bethany to get tired of it soon. She didn't, and the day she proved that to me is the next installment of our story.
I went to visit my father one day in the summer, before he knew much about Bethany. I had left her at home with the instruction to make dinner and vaccuum the apartment. Her answer to that was "If it pleases you, Mistress," in a seductive voice. I shook my finger at her because I knew she was trying to seduce me into staying. I left.
When I came home, I found my dear Pura asleep on the couch with one of my books on her chest. I was amused, even when I saw that she had neither vaccuumed or finished dinner. The kitchen was a mess from the beginnings of her work, but it did not bother me really.
Instead of doing anything about any of it, I removed the book and placed it on an end table. I slid myself around Pura and slept beside her, snuggling her into my arms.
She woke me some time later in an absolute hysteria! I had never seen her so very upset.
"What is it?" I asked her, concerned at this point for her health.
"It's eleven-thirty!" she cried.
I glanced at the giant clock hanging on the wall under the vaulted ceiling, and saw that she was right: it was a little after eleven-thirty at night. I had been sleeping beside her for three hours already.
"Yes, it's late," I said. And for me it really was late, because I try to be asleep by ten, like an old lady. "What's wrong with that? Let's go to bed."
"No!" she cried, but in a despairing way. "You have to eat. How long has it been since you ate?" And then she sat down on the padded footrest and dropped her face into her hands, crying for all she was worth.
I tried to comfort her, but it was no use. I was grumpy and tired, and she was inconsolable.
My readers should know that I have a blood-sugar condition that requires I eat every three hours to keep my blood sugar levels normal. I have fainted from this in the past, and was once hospitalized when illness kept me from eating for twenty-four hours. Pura has never seen anything because I'm very careful. I made the mistake of telling her about it and now she's paranoid. It scares her to think she might lose me over something so trivial. Now that you know: back to the story...
"This is all my fault!" she carried on. "I lost track of the time reading and fell asleep, and now you haven't eaten and you could die!"
A little dramatic, for sure, but it made me laugh. "I'm fine, Pura! Calm down. I'll grab a sandwich."
"No!" she shouted again, and she ran to the kitchen. "I'll do it! I should have had dinner on like you asked..." There was a lot more self-loathing and pitying than this, but for the sake of my readers, I'll just say Pura was angry at herself and complained for a long time.
While in the process of getting me a sandwich and a glass of juice, she happened to glance at that accursed list of house rules. Then the crying and self-loathing took on new heights.
In the middle of me trying to console her, and her refusing it and saying how bad she was for not putting my pleasures and needs above her own, she suddenly announced, "You have to do something about this! You have to punish me or something! I could have killed you!"
"Bethany, stop it," I ordered her. "I was never in any danger." I grabbed the sandwich from her hands, ignored the pleading look in her eyes, and walked away. "Calm down and come to bed. I'm fine."
I was not angry with her, really. I was angry with myself. It was not then nor ever would be her responsibility to make sure I had a meal every three hours. My neglect for myself had caused her upheaval. When I came home and there was no dinner on, I could have gotten a sandwich then, or even woke her up and had her finish the dinner she was preparing. I was to blame; not Pura.
It was a long time before she finally came to bed. I wasn't asleep, but I was on my bed in the dark stewing about how I could have prevented her upset. At first Pura tried to resist me, but I got ahold of her and pulled her against me. It felt like hours that I lay awake in the dark, knowing full well she wasn't asleep either. (Not a surprise considering we had taken a nap at eight in the evening!)
Finally, Pura spoke. "You said you would hold me to the rules. You should do that so this never happens again."
I was disgusted with myself, but I'm sure what carried to her was frustration. "I'm not going to do anything to you."
She squirmed in my arms, rolling over to look at me. I could barely see her face in the strip of light coming through a broken slat in the window-blind. She looked tortured. "Please?" she begged. "You could spank me. People do it all the time."
I did not believe in disciplinary spanking. I did not feel it was effective for children, and I doubted it could be for adults either. Nor was I willing to lay a stern finger on that girl's lovely bottom.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I argued, and pulled her back down to sleep. She went without a fight, and I thought the matter was dropped.
It wasn't.
Sorry to cut off again! Pura called and I'm going down to help her bring the groceries in. The conclusion of the story will come soon! Don't lose faith in me!
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