Daddy's Discipline, Sweet Release

Finally, the kids are in bed and fast asleep. After coming home from a long tiring day at the office, I spend a further two hours trying to talk some sense into my rebellious teenage son. But now all is quiet and I finally get up from next to my younger daughter’s bed and head straight for the shower to wash away a days’ worth of stress.

I slowly make my way down the hall to our bedroom. The room is dim with only the flickering of the light of the TV. My wife, Seraphina, is unusually all smiles in bed, sipping on some red wine while watching TV alone in our room. The only noise in the house is the faint chatter coming from the TV. As I pass by, she looks at me with one of those flirty smiles, as though she is hiding something. Her silhouette glows in the light of the TV. Her toned legs are covered by the blue fleece blanket, while her nipples lightly poke through the satin nightdress, as her breasts distort the natural flow of the material, in such a way that I could tell she is not wearing a bra. I catch a faint scent of jasmine and sandalwood – usually that alone would drive me wild, but not tonight, I am far too tired.

I consider Seraphina to be gorgeous, even after giving birth to three kids, she is still very fit, with curvy hips, and breasts that, while are not too big compared to the ones seen on magazines, are still high up on her chest, very firm and most of all, perky. Her long brown hair matches her big brown eyes. But it is not just her beauty that still holds me captive. She is bright and affirmative, while at the same time sensitive and caring. She really has no business being with me. However, for some reason, she has been willing and happy to put up with me for the past 14 years of marriage.

‘I am going to take a shower,’ I say flatly as I pass by our bed.

Without even looking for acknowledgement, I walk around the corner, open the shower door of our en-suite bathroom and turn on the water. Clumsily, I remove my clothes and throw them into a dejected heap in the corner. The hot shower feels good. Instantly, the day was washed away from me and I start to feel rejuvenated. After hoping out of the warm shower, my body bathed in the cool air, I begin to dry off with soft brown towel, and was almost done when she calls me from the bedroom.

“Just a second,” I said as I wrapped the towel around my waist.

I walked into the bedroom and instantly notice that the bedroom door to the hall was closed and she was no longer lying under the covers, but rather sitting at the foot of the bed, with one of our oversized pillows placed right beside her. She had removed her night clothes and now only wore a black push-up bra and a pair of lace G-string type panties. Her soft silky legs dangling down the side of the bed. I stood there for a second, a little befuddled, but then headed for the dresser to put on some clothes on, still coming to terms with this new unexpected turn of events.

“Did I tell you to get dressed?” she asks before I open the drawer, “No,” answering her own question. “I told you to come here!”

Startled, I turned around and walked over to her. My body is now beginning to get cold as the heat of the shower begins to wear off.

“Stand here,” she says, pointing to the floor in front of her.

As I begin to reposition myself in front of her, I take a deep breath and sigh, “What?” in half an exasperated fashion.

“Now,” she says with a raised eyebrow and a slight head nod for emphasis.

“You always wanted me to do some kinky stuff, right? Well, I have decided that you have exercised your authority well enough, for today,” she says in a firm voice, referring to my previous debate with my elder son.

“It is time to surrender your authority and submit to my demands,” she says.

Immediately, my emotions hit the roller coaster as I begin to realize that she has cooked up some kinky surprise for the night. During our first 10 years of marriage, we always enjoyed plain old vanilla sex, however, it was only four years ago that I suggested we take it up a notch and introduce some kinky stuff. She was rather reluctant at first, but, after several discussions, she realized that what I had in mind was playful consensual bondage, not her childhood impression of sexual abuse.

She pauses for a moment and then demands, “Now turn around.”

I immediately comply and turn around to face away from her so that my rearend is practically staring her in the face, had it not been for the towel I am wearing. She next demands that I put my hands behind my back. As I do so, I could feel the soft smooth texture of one of my office neckties, being used to tie my hands together. By now, my hormones have gone off the charts, and I could feel my manhood coming to life and raising the towel in front of me, as she ensures that my hands are secured together.

Before I could grasp what her next move will be, I feel the towel being ripped off me in one single whoosh. Even though I tried to initially hide my excitement, my organ has now given me away, as blood continues to rush to this part of my body and forces it into a full erection.

With both hands, she grabs hold of both of my butt cheeks and gives them a firm squeeze as though they are some stress relief toy you would find at the office. With the effort of the squeeze, she releases a slight moan, indicating that she is really enjoying fondling my rearend. Next she stands up beside me and turns me towards the bed where the extra-large pillow is located.

“Lie down over the pillow,” she demands.

I hesitate and say, “Do I have to, dear?” But before I could finish the sentence, she immediately interrupts me and says, “Yes you do, …and from now on you will call me Ma’am!”

I crawl on the bed with one knee first and then fall over the pillow, unable to break my fall with my hands. As I do so, she is quickly to grab my dick from behind and pulls it away, so as not to let it get trapped between my belly and the pillow. Content that I am now lying helpless on the bed, with my butt up in the air and my face pressing against the sheets, she parts my legs away from each other to ensure an unobstructed view of my intimates, while my super hard manhood points straight down, unable to spring back towards my belly with the pillow.

At this point, my heart rate has doubled and my excitement has gone from zero to hundred in a matter of minutes. I could feel the cold air flowing over my vulnerably exposed family jewels, but there is little I could do to take back control. This feeling of helplessness is what drives my excitement to this unprecedented level.

“You know I love you,” she says. “This punishment is to ensure that you remember that even though you are the father of my children, your body belongs to me!”

Remembering her request to call her ma’am, I reply to her: “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy,” she says.

“I might be a bit more lenient than previously planned if you continue to behave like this,” she continues as she gets up from the bed and walks over to her drawer. From there she retrieves a mini sized leather whipping crop that I had purchased online, approximately the size of a standard 30cm ruler. At the end of the whip is a flexible rubber bit that extends a further six or seven centimeters.

She walks back and climbs onto the bed, kneeling on my right side and facing southbound, towards the foot of the bed. She holds the whip in her right hand and glides it over my back and down my butt cheeks. As she does so, she leans over and with her left hand reaches around for my shaft, grabbing it and pulling it slightly back so that it is more or less at the eight o’clock position. This sends a shiver down my back as I feel my full erection being stretched backwards to its limit, hoping she will not go any further.

But before I could continue to register the angle of stretch, I hear the whoosh of the whip and the crisp sound against my bottom. She has positioned herself well so that the whip would strike my bottom parallel to my butt crack, thus allowing the flexible tip of the whip to curl around and deliver its sting to the lower side of my cheeks, right next to my perineum.

This first strike causes my entire lower body to jolt inwards as though to absorb some of the energy. But it is futile as she now starts to swing the whip in an alternating manner, using her wrist as a pivot and seemingly matching the natural resonant frequency of the whip. This results in a tapping motion with each strike delivering its sting to my exposed bottom. While keeping up this rhythm, she moves from one cheek to the other, ensuring an even coverage of both cheeks, with some of the strikes landing exactly on my butt crack and delivering the sting to my perineum just a centimeter short of the base of my testicles. It is pretty obvious she has quickly mastered the technique and delivers the strikes with pinpoint accuracy.

I start to feel a general burning sensation throughout, as my ass starts to glow with the multiple strikes, probably reaching fifty or so. But my excitement never subsides as my dick remains firmly locked in her left hand, with the occasional up and down stroke to ensure the stinging pain does not deter my attention.

I wriggle my butt as the mixed emotions of pain and excitement storm my brain, with half of it wanting her to stop, while the other begging for more. However, she suddenly decides to halt the oscillating whip, and put it down beside her. Even though the strikes have stopped, I can still feel my nerve endings reacting to what seems like phantom strikes, as though they are unable to be reset back to the default state. My bottom must now be glowing like a ripe tomato and while my body has now cooled off from the initial shower, my bottom is radiating more heat than the hot water itself.

She glides her hands over my rosy butt as though enjoying the radiating heat. “Poor bottom, mommy must take care of it,” she says, while massaging it.

To this, she starts to shower it in soft kisses, just like a mum would do to cure the pain of a toddler who has just fallen over. Her fingers glide down my perineum and onto my testicles, carefully massaging them too, as I start to squirm again with excitement. I must admit, never did such contact feel so welcome, and I could now start to feel that I could no longer handle the excitement as my manhood started to drip pre-cum onto the sheets.

Soon, my thoughts were interrupted by a large moan, as she explodes into what must be one of her most intense orgasms. Her body grinds deeper into my face as the rhythmic humping turns into shivers of uncontrollable spasms. For a moment, I thought that the kids must have heard her, and would soon be knocking on our door, but my attention soon returns to her glowing body as she falls forward on all fours and presses her belly onto my forehead.

She lays there for the next minute, gasping for breath while still moaning slightly as her body recovers from the intense orgasm. Once she gains control over her body, she rolls over to her side and looks at me with a smile that instantly takes me back to our wedding day, when she looked into my eyes and said, “I do.” I could see her heart through her hazelnut eyes and a feeling of warmth envelopes my body.

“Ma’am,” I said, “Would you release my hands now, please?”

She giggles, and says, “Yes, my dear, you are now free to be a daddy again,” and undoes the knot that restrained my hands.

With my hands finally free, I wipe my face from the excessive love juice, and move over to wrap my arms around her. We kiss for a few minutes and then simply lay there together, looking deep into each other’s eyes and basking in the afterglow of the intense session we just had together.

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