A few weeks ago, I left town to visit friends who live in the other side of the country. As a holiday gift, I bought my Dom tuition for a carving class, which took place while I was out of town. You see, my Daddy really likes fixing up old things – bringing old wood furniture back to life, scouring and re-seasoning rusty old cast iron skillets, helping me clean up an old spinning wheel (really). When I saw that a local school was offering a spoon carving class, I knew it would be right up her alley (and, quite selfishly, that I could get to share what she eventually created).
When I planned to return home to Sir, she made it clear that she couldn’t wait to get me back over her knee. Daddy picked me up from the airport, and fed me a lovingly cooked-all-day nourishing meal, and encouraged me to promptly clean up and meet her in the bedroom. As per her request, I started on my hands and knees as she removed my wrap skirt and began to spank me with her hand carved wooden spatula, and spoon. Perhaps some of you paddle fans can guess by looking at them that these really sting. They’re the closest sensation to a leather crop (and it’s handle) that I’ve experienced with wood. Daddy alternates from my thighs to my ass, from side to side, from one implement to the next. Then, she joins me in bed and beckons me over to her lap.
She spreads my ass cheeks to get at my most tender bits. I’m so happy to be back with my Dom that I squeal and whimper in her lap, playfully holding on to her hips and ass while I try my best to keep still for her. She checks my pussy to see how wet I am. After a few bare-handed spanks, Daddy is able to push right into me with three fingers, blissfully twisting and driving my hips in circles on her lap. She gets up, firmly tells me “Lay down.” and I obediently flip to my backside for her. “Open up for me,” she instructs, as I take a few deep breaths and receive. She delves deeper and fuller into me, until I’m taking her whole fist and begging to come. I absolutely lose my mind when my Daddy fists me. The intensity of my return to her, the stings from her carefully crafted implements, my submission to her growing deeper with each intricate movement of her hand in me. I burst into tears, and my Daddy gently says, “Come for me, baby girl.”