Just Us

The Fort Part 3- Looking Back

Chapter 20- Being late has consequences

© L 2025

As you pull a blanket up over us both in the fort, you tell me you always remember my first caning, but not specifically because of the roleplay, you remind me what happened after...

Moments after I exited your office, a naughty school girl, you were opening the door, and you embraced me in the corridor, no longer a strict school principal, a Dominant I had just submitted willingly to. You asked me if I was okay, you checked my ass, pulled me into your bathroom and rubbed some lotion on me. Then you took me downstairs and got us both a drink. We discussed the scene, our day, had you forgotten you still had my underwear in your pocket? We both agreed it was a lot of fun, but you did warn me that if you found me slacking off in class again I would be receiving the ruler and then maybe the cane, a fitting punishment you felt for a naughty school girl. This felt like an open ended invitation. At the end of the day, the only way you would ever know I was 'slacking off' is if I told you, and I now knew what would happen, I was in full control. I also had a feeling you would likely be getting a similar message in a few months. No I didn't like the cane, but being told off, the ruler, that kind of roleplay, dam I was wetter than I had ever been before.

Eventually you asked me again if I was okay, and again I said yes. Then you ordered me to strip in front of you. I did, perhaps not quite as seductively as I could have, but seldom did we enjoy any play without sex, that I naturally thought was coming. The second I was naked you took a collar and leash and placed it round my neck, and without saying another word you lead me to your play room. Oh, your play room, the size of a double bedroom, it was your haven. You designed it, installed the hooks, several of your submissives and the last slave you owned had been played with in it. The second we went in and you shut the door you ordered me to kneel. Once kneeling you grabbed my hair forcefully and ordered me to look at you, instantly your demeanour changed.

If I ever questioned that there was no difference between you being pissed at me in a roleplay scene and in real life, that moment answered me once and for all. You weren't roleplaying, you were being serious, very fucking serious. There was a huge difference! This wasn't a bit of fun, I was in trouble, big fucking trouble, and I knew exactly why. I had been late, I had not followed an order. I guess I had hoped the caning might have covered both my texting and my lateness. Although, I knew deep down it hadn't, you never mentioned me being late again in our roleplay scene, and you never let me get away with breaking one of your rules in this kind of situation.

Plus I had learned when my tardiness shined through, your love of sadistic play thrived on it. I had just given you a reason to hurt me, really hurt me. The punishment for being late was never pleasant, you made it clear when we first started playing, be late and I accept the consequences. Of course they landed within my limits, but you were clear, and it was simple, if I couldn't handle this side of you then we were not right for each other. Oh yes, even if you didn’t like me being late, you thoroughly enjoyed teaching me why!

'Understand something', you said growling, gripping my hair so hard it hurt as I looked at you, your eyes wild. 'I love to roleplay, especially with you. We both click, understand each other. But do you know what I don't love, what I loathe, what I really fucking hate'? My heart was racing, but I didn’t speak, you gave me no time to answer. 'My submissive being late, keeping me waiting. I gave you an order! It may have been playful, not in the same direct way I usually do. But I was clear, come here straight after class, and by your own admittance you didn't'.

You recalled that memory with me as we sat in the fort. You reminded me how you punished me for being late. Standing me up, tying my hands with rope and raising them above my head via a hook in the ceiling. You removed my underwear from your pocket and put it in my mouth. Then you took your leather paddle to my tits, and smacked them both hard, relentlessly, until they bruised. Then you brought out your crop. With a small leather accent on the end, oh it stung, but my pain tolerance from the crop was high. You could put a lot of force behind each strike and still not hit my limit. But that doesn't mean being hit with it that hard was pleasurable. You know how to make me enjoy any toy, and when to make me regret my actions. Without a doubt in either of our minds, this was the latter. Standing in front of me, you swished the crop with precision across my tits, one side then the other. Slowly you worked it down my body, striking me as hard as I could manage when you got to my pussy. I screamed so loudly my underwear fell out my mouth, and you bent down slowly, picked them up. As we recalled the memory together, I tell you I never forgot the whisper in my ear. 'Drop them once more, and I start all over again'. Down my thighs, my legs, even my feet were not spared, and then you moved behind me. Up my ankles, my calves, my upper legs and ass were red from the ruler and cane, now the crop strikes bit into the tender flesh. Hard enough to hurt, hard enough to leave marks, but not hard enough to make them last. You didn’t own me, I had disobeyed you, but the punishment had to be proportionate to our dynamic.

Untying me, ordering me to bend over a padded bench, you finally fucked my ass hole violently, and came inside me. You never allowed me to cum, to play with myself, you never allowed me to put my underwear back on. Once you had completed some aftercare, you ordered me to put the school uniform back on to drive home in. It was dark, I lived on a quiet street and parked next to my front door. Still the shortness of the skirt meant my bare bottom sat on the leather seat in my car, for added humiliation your cum leaked out, when I got home and out the car the lower half of my cum stained, caned bottom would have been visible, as the drips slowly ran down my legs. Even if no one would have been able to see, it was still humiliating.

You laugh slightly as you kiss my head saying you honestly thought after that two different things would probably happen. Firstly, you expected me to end things. You were quite violent, and you were sure you had taken it too far for me. Or even if you hadn't you were sure that I would never be late again. Neither of which came true, I didn’t end things, and I was most definitely late after that on a few occasions, though not for a while.

I fell asleep in your arms in the fort. It had been one hell of a draining day, and not one you would forget in a hurry. Yes you had forgiven me, but you were still disappointed I had broken your office rule. The image of me shamelessly sitting in your chair instils confidence in you that you didn’t go too far with my physical punishment. You can't remember a time I acted so brazen. No matter how good I would likely be over the weekend, come Monday morning, the second phase of my punishment would begin, and it was something you needed to be done.

The Fort Part 3- Looking Back

Chapter 19- Roleplay

© L 2025

Despite everything, our fort weekend had somehow got off to an amazing start. We had just eaten pizza quite successfully without dropping everything all over the bed we would be sleeping in. After our pizza you beckoned me to sit between your legs and you brushed my hair, being gentle. Again it was all part of my aftercare.

As you did, we just talked, I finally told you how my week at work had been. I actually had some exciting news. I had been asked to lead on the latest project in my team. It would mean more work for me, but after a discussion we both agreed I could manage it.

Now before the feminists start thinking, she has a right to do what she wants. Or those Dominants who believe a sub has an equal, or more powerful voice on what they do, listen- you aren’t us! Our dynamic, our relationship has taken years to build, to get right, again for us! We took time putting my contract together, agreeing the terms of my submission, and we review it, its as fluid as our dynamic. So yes, if I am about to take on more work, J needs to know. He was there when I was working three jobs and putting myself through university. He saw me become exhausted, and he won't see me do that to myself again.

As I sat leaning against your bare chest, your hand slowly stroking my arm my mind wandered to the early days of us playing, I couldn't help but think back to the first time you caned me, I asked if you could remember, and you said 'vividly', it was in a roleplay/ discipline session...

I was at university in and out of lectures, thinking of you. We only played as Top and bottom, and we hadn't played in several weeks. I was horny, I wanted to feel your hand across my ass and your cock in my pussy. I had a free evening, and so I sent you a harmless flirtatious text.

'How is your day going? Thought you might want to know my pussy was starting to feel lonely. So I showed it some special love last night, thinking of you'.

You immediately messaged back;

'It is okay I feel slightly jealous? What are you up to'?

With a smile on my face, and feeling myself getting more horny, I couldn't help but tease you further. I wanted to know how you would react.

'I'm so so bored, sat in class and not paying attention to a single thing. Because right now, I'm being a very bad, naughty girl, texting this cute boy when I should be paying attention'.

Please, please, please take the bait, I thought as I anxiously awaited your reply. It would either say something generic like 'have a good day, I will leave you to your studies', or you would reply in some way inviting me over to play. My phone pinged and my heart raced when I saw your name.

'Hmm, yes, you have been naughty! Very naughty in fact. You will come and see me immediately after school, as soon as your last class finishes (the principal)'.

'Yes Sir'

Is all I responded with, as I practically orgasmed in my seat, my knickers soaking as I began to imagine a wonderful school discipline roleplay session we would do later that day. I pull my mind back to the lecture that hasn't moved any further forward, as the room discuss the aesthetically pleasing qualities of the colour yellow. At 5pm I finished my final lecture, gathered my books, my bag. For a while I stood chatting with my friends, it started with us going over our notes, but quickly turned to us discussing evening plans. Not that I shared mine, telling the group I knew semi well that I was about to be spanked and fucked for being horny during class wasn't something you just dropped casually into conversation. But, eventually just before 6pm telling my friends I wanted to get a head start on some study, I declined their offer to go out to dinner with them, and headed straight to your home. You had left a note on the front door. Let yourself in, lock the door behind you, which I did. Inside you had laid out a school girl outfit for me, that I saw at the bottom of the stairs. A note on it said - put me on and come to my office when ready. You loved seeing me dressed up in various outfits, school girl was definitely a favourite. My stomach genuinely was starting to churn, I knew this is what I wanted, but thinking about it, and actually doing it, were two different things. When I got to your office I knocked and waited. Eventually you opened the door, 'In, and stand there', you said in a tone that made me know I was in trouble. Oh fuck yes! I thought as I moved to the spot you were pointing to in front of your desk. You slowly walked back round and sat down. Fuck, I've never wanted you more than when we roleplayed. But this was the first time we had ever ad-libbed without discussing what we would do first. So I had no idea what punishment or discipline I would be facing. It was truly exciting and terrifying at the same time, I was in heaven. The only problem was because we hadn't discussed our play session, I was nervous. When I get nervous I can't help but awkwardly smile. You knew why I was smiling but you didn't break character. 'Oh, you think this is funny? You think this is a joke'? You sounded more and more serious, and strict with each word. 'You have the audacity to message while you are in class saying you are bored and horny'. You paused for dramatic effect, before leaning forward resting your arms on your desk and asking, 'tell me, why do you go to school'? You were good, in that moment I genuinely felt like a naughty school girl. But I wasn’t prepared for questions, so despite the simple question, with an obvious answer, I stuttered 'I...um...well..to learn Sir'. You smirked slightly, 'really, you don't seem too sure? Were you learning while you were texting'? Fuck you were sounding more and more pissed by the second, and my underwear was saturated. 'No Sir', is all I replied. 'What time did your final class finish today'? You say sitting back in your chair, staring at me, with a very unamused expression. For a second your question threw me and I replied '5pm Sir'. '5pm, you say?, and yet you didn't knock on my door until nearly 6.30pm'. Shit! Roleplay or not, this was one of your rules, you gave me an order to come to your home as soon as my class finished, and now we both know I didn't. 'Sir, I'm sorry, after class I was just catching up with my friends, we were...'. You hold your hand up to signal me to stop talking. You then pointed to a small chair in one corner of your office. 'Naughty girls are sent to stand in the corner to think about their behaviour. Very naughty girls bend over'. You ordered me to approach it, bend down resting my palms on the side rests, and lean forward. I did as you directed, my position making me bend at the waist, my bottom stuck out, just as you had intended it to. You got up from your chair, walked to me, lifted my skirt and pulled down my underwear, took it off and slipped it into your trouser pocket. Then you returned to your seat. My bare bottom was on display, it felt humiliating, being left in that position. Humiliation was definitely something I enjoyed, needless to say despite my very real predicament, I knew how wet I was becoming. Until now you had seldom used humiliation when we had played. Well the corner time definitely worked, I daren't look around, I couldn't tell if you were still working, or if you were shuffling papers as part of the effect of the roleplay, my mind ran over what might be coming next, probably pain before I was offered the sweet release of pleasure, at least I hoped I would be feeling pain, but I genuinely had no idea, and that was more exciting to me than I could describe.

Eventually you got up, collected something I couldn't see from your desk draw and approached me. You rubbed a wooden flat stick over me. Hmm, this was new. Still, a delightful shiver ran through me, I knew what it was. I had seen a thick wooden ruler amongst your toys on a few occasions. With its rounded edges, dense wood and intricate words- Sorry Sir J carved in beautiful italic writing into it, it was one of a few impact implements you had specifically made for you. Well, I wanted a good spanking, though I would have personally chosen your paddle.

Your strokes were strong, intentional, and hard. Across each of my buttocks, across the backs of my upper legs. My legs shifted, my knees sagged after some of the strikes. I cried loud each time, gripped the chair. I received a respectable 15 strikes, and dam was my bottom sore, you could clearly see the outline of ruler in several places on my backside, that I could only imagine was already bright red. Still, a good spanking for a naughty girl, hmm I remembered thinking, I should be naughty more often, along side definitely adding ruler to the list of impact toys I kinda liked.

Then you returned to your desk and sat down. You typed something onto your keyboard, I heard a pen click and a book shut. Then you stopped, you retrieved something else from you desk area, and one swish made my heart skip a beat, it was your cane. I remembered thinking why would I be getting the cane? You had never used the cane on me. In a roleplay like this, once a spanking had occurred you generally fucked me. Why wasn't it over? 'So you think it's acceptable to text while you are in class, When you are supposed to be paying attention'? You said your tone somehow even more serious. No this wasn't part of the plan, you should be fucking me, dam I was aching to feel your cock. 'I...I...No Sir', I stammered as a realised the ruler was simply there to warm me up. 'You work a stupid amount of hours to pay for your classes, you work all day, study all night. I do worry it is too much, but then I get text messages that suggests you really don't take your classes seriously'. 'I do, I'm sorry Sir', I said genuinely meaning it. This might be discipline during a roleplay, but it is also punishment for getting distracted during class. 'Do you know, how many words were in your first message to me'? 'Um, no Sir', I said starting to regret my decision to tease you into punishing me, I could have just sent you a text asking if you were free for a play session. '28'! You say breaking me from my thoughts. Oh god, I can't, I can't be cained 28 times! Fuck, this was supposed to be a bit of fun. 'Count, thank me after each stroke, and as long as you don't keep me waiting I will halve the number you will receive, you naughty school girl'. I had only ever been caned a handful of times, it was on my soft limit list, but we had talked several times about introducing it, we even discussed a roleplay session not too dissimilar to this. When we were getting to know each other you were impressed with my soft and hard limits, nothing frustrated you more than a submissive telling you they had no limits. Though given your cane is one of your favourite impact toys, you were slightly disappointed to see it there, this was a somewhat fun way to bring it finally into play. You did tell me I had my safe word to stop you. With that, you proceeded to cane me for texting during class, this was a medium strength caning, it wasn't enjoyable, but I knew it could have been worse. I gripped the chair for support, each swish and crack of the cane felt like a fire cracker exploding against my skin. Each time my knees buckled, but the terrifying thought of 28 ensured I did as I was told, counted and thanked you all the way up to 14. At the end of my caning you stood back admiring me. You could almost see each individual stroke, its own tally on my red behind.

Oh how I wanted you to fuck me, something I naturally assumed was coming next. You gave me an order to return to your desk and I did so quickly, eager to fuck your cock. 'Well little girl, now you know what happens when you're naughty at school. I thoroughly enjoyed teaching you a lesson, so by all means, act up at school again, you know what will happen'. You gestured me to leave your office, and I did, thoroughly scolded, and more horny than I had felt in a long time.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 18- Time to build a fort

© L 2025

You sit with me for a further 15 minutes in case I wake. But now you get up, your back is stiff from laying on the floor. You go to your toy cupboard and retrieve two of your longest lengths of nylon rope. This is rope you use to bind me. You are not the most proficient in Shibari, sometimes your square knots, and chain knots can look more like that box of cables you keep 'just in case', and never get round to using, sorting out or tidying up. However, when mental play is what we are both wanting, spending time in each others presence, Shibari gives us that. Wrapping the soft rope around my naked skin in some kind of harness, creating wonderful intricate patterns. Or fashioning some of the armbinder techniques, can bring us both a huge amount of intimate pleasure. That you then get to enjoy, as you fuck my prepared body and holes.

Now the rope is to be used for something far less interesting, but in this moment, just as important, and you take it and the wall hooks downstairs. Usually you would put music or the TV on, but your Daddy instincts are on full alert, you want to be able to hear me, and you don't want to spend too long away from me. You screw the hooks back into the holes in the walls, looping the rope between them, you tentatively let the rope bear your weight. Hmm, maybe you should start using these hooks again?

They were the first thing we added when we moved in, and we loved having the space and freedom to play in our own home together when we wanted. However, we stopped because after we moved in we found family or friends would drop by unannounced. Other than a small front vestibule, the front door opens into our large, 2 storey high lounge. You had once just finished one of your most intricate Shibari ties running the length of my body. Starting at my feet, it wound up my body, crossing, and knotting, over my hips, waist, tits and up both arms. The final touch was to raise my arms above my head and secure the rope to the hook.

Just as you had finished, the front door bell rang, it was my sister. Grabbing our EMT sheers you cut the rope from the hook, and carried me upstairs as quickly and as safely as you could. With no time to undo the rope, you cut each intricate knot down my arms to free them, then handing me the scissors checking I was okay to get out the rest of the restraint myself you flew back down and opened the door, trying not to seem flushed and out of breath. 'I saw your light on and have great news', she said walking in (as was her style), without being asked. Oh the number of times you have (somewhat jokingly) told me she would benefit from a firm hand striking her posterior! Not bearing the thought of cutting any more of the rope I undid each knot, painfully aware of the seconds flying by, my fingers and arms working as quickly as possible. As soon as I was out, I flew into your bathroom stuck my head under your shower, and grabbing a hand towel threw on some clothes and raced to the top of the stairs, then also trying to breathe normally, I casually walked downstairs, exclaiming 'I thought I heard the door while I was in the shower'.

After that night (that earned me serious brownie points), we never did rope bondage downstairs again. As soon as we could, we fitted out your bedroom with all the equipment we needed. Downstairs became our vanilla utopia, upstairs our BDSM wonderland. However, over the years visitors that would drop by unannounced lessened. We were no longer the 'new couple' that had just moved in to their designer four bedroomed barn conversion together. Blackout blinds on the windows mean no one can ever tell if we are home or not, our Saturday nights are ours. As you finish roping up and adding the sheets, you decide, yes the hooks will stay.

Positioning the sofa at one side, you take one of our lamps, a small table and put them in the fort. At least this one you can almost stand up in. You close and shut the blinds, and for added security close the curtains, that really are more for decoration. You deadbolt the front and back doors, and shut the kitchen blind too, just in case. Now, there is no physical way anyone can get in, or see into our home. Pulling out the bed inside the fort it has a warm cosy feel, and you haven't even added all the blankets yet. But you have spent far too long away from me, and you head back upstairs, with a new found wave of excitement for our weekend, you didn't think would return.

Upstairs the film has stopped, I am still sleeping. You get on your bed and shut your eyes, you're as exhausted as I am.

A few hours later...

You wake, outside it's going dark, how long have you been asleep? You check your watch and see it has just gone 6:51pm. Dam its later than you wanted to sleep, but you do feel better. Looking over the edge of the bed, you see me still sleeping, and you brush your hand over my arm. 'Princess'? You call softly, I stir, and blink my eyes open. 'We need to wake up, do you need the toilet'? 'Yes Daddy', I say sleepily. You get up and stand over my dog bed, holding out your hands. I reach up, and you pull me to my feet, bearing my weight as I find my balance. You lead me to your bathroom, and ease me down onto the toilet, I wince in pain, taking in a sharp breath. When I finish toileting, you wipe and clean me. I could do it myself, but you won't have me experience any more pain than I have to.

You help me to your bed and order me to lie down on it, so I lay down on my front. You tell me you are just going to have a quick shower. When you get out, you dry yourself, come through to your bedroom and apply more lotion to my bottom. You put some lounge pants on and a t-shirt, despite the time of year, because the house is so warm, you really don't need anything else. Helping me up, taking my hand, you guide me to my bedroom.

I'm quiet, still waking up, if I'm honest, still getting over my spanking, and you know I am. You move to my chest of drawers, the top drawer has in it my diapers. You remove one and laying it out on my bed you order me to lie down on it. I do, its very soft, you apply more lotion and then do it up. Just as this morning you told me I shouldn't use it, you say the same thing again. I can't help but smile, the soft diaper feels amazing next to my red raw arse. Then you get out some fleece pyjamas, you help me into the bottoms, and put the top on me. Slipping on my bunny slippers, I’m dressed.

But before we head downstairs you go to my toys ready to be taken downstairs. Your eyes frown, I'm guessing I will be choosing one to take into the fort. 'well, this is no good' you say looking at them all. Then you leave my room, returning momentarily later with your blanket box. 'You don't have enough room for all your teddies', you say putting it on my bed. One by one you remove the teddies I have put in the first box, into the second. Then you look round my room asking 'who else is joining us'? My smile increases and I quickly gather J, Big Teddy and Uni from my bed, and put them in. Then I gather Jessie, Lightning, and Mater from the floor. The teddy box is now full as I put Radcliffe on top.

With plenty of room in the other box, you suggest I put the rest of the My Little Ponies in, and ask me why my Lego isn't in. I explain that I didn't want to get into trouble for leaving Lego on the floor. An almost ironic statement after what I did, but you smile and kiss my head. You suggest I take my magnetic blocks instead, adding we can build a stable and jumps for the My Little Ponies. 'Daddy, My Little Ponies don't live in stables silly'. 'Of course they don't', you say, then looking slightly confused you ask 'where do they live'? 'In a magical place with castles, Daddy', 'oh, right, yes, silly me! Well, lets see what we can build them, you've got two sets of magnetic blocks, and if I stand on them, then it's my own fault'. 'Okay Daddy', I say feeling happier every second.

You pick up the box with my teddies in it and we go downstairs, I have no idea until I see the fort built that you've put it together already. I let out a small squeak of excitement jumping down the last step, you put the box down and lead me in. The sofa bed is already pulled out and made. You tell me to lie down on it and you fetch my teddies. 'Right, it's getting late, and as were sleeping in here for 2 nights rather than one, lets leave your other toys, and the other blankets, cushions, pillows until tomorrow.

Then you reach down grab something, hold your hands behind your back and tell me to choose a hand. Looking at you suspiciously, I tap your left arm. You bring out your hand holding in it a Chinese takeaway menu. We had discussed maybe getting take away tomorrow night, but not tonight. You pull out the menu in your right hand and it's a pizza menu. I can't help but look slightly disappointed, and you read my reaction instantly. 'Yeah, I really want pizza too', you say, and you climb onto the bed, pulling me in to you gently. Putting the Chinese menu on the small table, you ask 'right, what shall we get'? As you spread the pizza menu out in front of us.

End of part 2

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 17- The Calm After The Storm

© L 2025

Downstairs feels like a completely different world, it is quiet, calm, still ready for our fort, it has no idea what has happened above it. You look around, do you take it away? Stop the weekend? Not that long ago you were threatening to leave me completely home alone this weekend. Although, yes, you said it in anger. Still, do I deserve my weekend? You take some steps towards the table with my lists and drawing of the fort.

When we first moved into our home you had installed hooks to play with me downstairs. But, when play moved to your bedroom you removed the hooks. However, you still have them, and they screw into the holes, that you've never quite got round to filling, so putting them back wouldn't take long. You glance at the open railing on the stairs. You could easily suspend rope between the railing and the hooks. It would give us much more space and height. We will need more sheets, but we have plenty. The sofa that is also a sofa bed (not that we have ever used it), could be incorporated easily under the sheets if we pulled it forward slightly. The TV could remain where it is, we could even bring in a lamp and one of our small side tables. Okay, it will be more a posh fort, than the den kind children make and play in for a few hours, but we are spending all weekend in it. You promised you wouldn't take my weekend off me as we headed home from the shops. My other punishments don't start until Monday, you broke one promise, you won't break another. With a fresh wind of optimism you go into the kitchen, prepare our food, yes we both need this weekend, now more than ever.

I don't need you while you are downstairs, but you do hear me coughing. Guessing my throat is sore you make me hot water with honey, and collect 2 paracetamol tablets from the pack you opened earlier, and yes, you place several cookies on a palate as well as other food for us both to eat. Before returning to me you turn the heating up in the house, and the boiler fires into life. Air will help me heal, you don't want me covering up just because I’m cold. Putting everything on a tray, you go to the freezer and take out two ice packs, wrap a towel round each, and bring everything back up to your bedroom, and set it down on the floor. You get on the floor too, grabbing a pillow from your bed to lean on, you place the sandwiches next to me, and in quite a forceful tone you tell me to take the paracetamol, drink more water and eat, all of which I do immediately.

I take a few bites, I may be starting to forgive myself but there is one question in my mind that I both need to know the answer to, as well as don't want to know the answer to. You watch me slowly eat, everything seems so still now. Laid almost face down on my bed, my ass burns so brightly. While you feel no guilt over punishing me the way you did, causing me the pain you did. You will take causing me that level of pain through play any day of the week over punishing me. You take your cooling lotion and apply it liberally again to my extremely sore behind. I wince and let out small cries of pain. Then you take the two ice packs. You place one on my bottom, and the other you slide between my legs to help reduce the swelling in my soft tender lips. Fresh tears fill my eyes and I begin sob quietly.

You understand I will still be upset, but to see me revert back to sobbing when not that long ago I told you there was nothing else I needed or wanted to discuss, confuses you. 'Come on baby girl, talk to me', 'I....I....I can't Daddy, I....I'm too scared what you'll say'. 'Is it about what happened, or about your punishment'? You say trying not to sound frustrated, when this is exactly why we talk after. Unable to answer as a fresh wave of tears and sobs escape me, I mumble 'It's about our...'. I can't finish my words. 'Our weekend'? You ask, knowing it would definitely be on my mind, feeling surprised I hadn't brought it up earlier. I nod my head as I cry harder, feeling wave after wave of emotion. You pause the film as neither of us are watching it, slide into my bed beside me, and carefully hold me tightly. 'Okay', you say as I unleash every emotion I am feeling. 'Baby girl, I thought long and hard about our weekend, it wasn't an easy decision to make given what you did'. This is it, I'm loosing my weekend, the one thing that made this last week bearable. I feel a crushing pain weighing down on my chest, I bury my face in your chest. 'However, I broke promises too. I did say to you earlier today that I wouldn't take your weekend away, and I meant it, I won't break two promises in one day. We will have our weekend, I think we both need it. I will be modifying the rules, but I promise you now, as I did earlier, we will have our fort weekend'.

As you speak those words, my head feels like it is made of lead, it takes all my effort to move to look at you. My eyes are heavy, my body aches, and my bottom feels both on fire and numb all at the same time.

You get up and retrieve the note pad and pen with my lines in it. Turning to a fresh page as you sit back down on the pillow against your bed, you write in capitals at the top of it- DADDY’S FORT RULES. 'Okay, rule number one. I can add, change or stop any rule at any time', you say scribbling those words down. 'Rule number two, the fort will start tonight, and end on Sunday with us watching Jurassic World'. 'Tonight'? I say questioningly and you nod your head. The third rule you keep from my original list, that you still have memorised, no alarms. But you add that if I am tired I must tell you, and I must rest and try and nap and sleep when you ask me to. This isn't a punishment, or you being 'harsh' with your discipline. My body and mind needs to heal, it is part of my ongoing aftercare that will likely last several days, if not weeks in some form. You also keep my rule of no technology other than your phone. You don't add my 'no sex' rule. You tell me if I am your little girl then sex is off limits anyway. However, you do say I have the option if I want to or feel like it, to move out of little space for some of our time in the fort. You emphasise there is no pressure, if it's little space all weekend, then you are absolutely fine with that arrangement. After all, it was how we were originally going to spend the weekend.

Over the knee spankings was the next fort rule I gave us. 'I don't think we need any more smacks on that bottom of yours, so I'm not including that rule. I really can't see you being a naughty little girl this weekend. But, if you are, there are plenty of other effective warnings and punishments I can give you'. The next rule you write is- No being naughty, to replace the bratty rule. 'Now this goes for both of us, Daddy isn't allowed to be naughty either'. Your comment makes me smile and laugh slightly. You add my, must cuddle, must eat in the fort, must sleep in the fort rules.

Then you turn and look at me and say, 'the next rule is, Daddy will choose what we watch, and when we watch it'. Which you write down, adding 'and no I can tell you now, Frozen is out'. The final rule you add is that you will choose what sweets and treats I can have, and when. As a general rule (though not all the time), I am not allowed treats after being a bad girl. So this will give you control of what I have and when, without you taking the treats off me completely.

You rip out our rules, put the pen and writing pad down and look at me. 'Okay, they aren't rules but there are two more things I am implementing. Firstly, I will agree what toys you bring in, we can do that when you feel able to get up. The second thing is that I am changing the layout of the fort'. My original fort plan was basically a square. With the sofa pushed all the way to the back of the lounge, and a clothes airier sat on top. The other end was going to be our dining table, and I was going to drape sheets between the two. Inside covering the entire floor were going to be all the cushions, pillows and duvets. With the entrance and exit to the right, I was going to have the left hand side, you were going to have the right, and the TV was going to be sat under the table in the middle. You tell me your idea, speaking more and more enthusiastically. When I ask why we are starting tonight and not tomorrow, you simply shrug and say 'why wait'!

You turn back on Cars, the Disney film I was watching. I finish eating, you eat some of the sandwiches too, as well as apply lotion and intermittently place the ice pack on my bottom. You see my eyes getting heavier and heavier, moving everything out my way, you cover me with a thin very soft blanket, stroking my back, holding my hand. Eventually, just as you suspected I would, I fall asleep.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 16- Aftercare

© L 2025

*I want to thank everyone who reads this story. I started writing this at a difficult time, and I threw myself into this as a way to manage/escape. I continue to write it, share it, as I am as invested in these 2 characters as my readers, that is a humbling feeling.

* I am putting a trigger warning both here and at the start of chapter 15. If you don't feel you want to read, a physical punishment chapter, if it would trigger you, then don't read chapter 15. L has received the cat, read this her aftercare, because it is more important to me any reader looks after themselves first.

Thank you...Aftercare...

You allow me time to cry, time to process what you did, why you did it. You hold me close, you continually tell me how proud you are of me, how well I did. Eventually I let you go, enough for you to roll me onto my front. You inspect my bottom carefully, my welts and bruises, my skin broken with the cane in several places. Taking some cooling lotion you slowly, carefully, rub it on me, over my ass, over my thighs, over the tops of my legs, paying particularly close attention to the breaks in my skin, then over and in my raw pussy lips, finally into the tip of my ass hole that feels on fire. All the while, continuing to thank me, you truly saw my submission while you physically punished me. You saw how much I was hurting, and I allowed you to do it.

You continue slowly rubbing the lotion into my skin for a long time. When I turn to face you, I hold you tightly again, gently cry a little more. Slowly, as the minutes pass I stop crying, I stop whimpering. You allow silence when it's needed, and continue to offer words of comfort intermittently. While my punishment will continue in different forms moving forward. You have forgiven me, you have told me you have, and as we exchange brief words, you stress it is important that I forgive myself. But this is so much easier said than done!

You have trained me to understand the importance of both recognising, when I have disobeyed you, to be accepting of the consequences. As well as receive your forgiveness which includes forgiving myself. You explained to me a long time ago, if I do not forgive myself, then you see that as me not accepting your forgiveness and this is almost as disrespectful as any action I may have taken to warrant my punishment in the first place. You understand it is hard sometimes, and accept that I will likely be quieter, contemplative, and generally more obedient, but this is part of my process of forgiving myself, and part of our process of moving on.

You do not dwell on what has happened, your effort goes purely into my aftercare, as my aftercare routine helps you move on too. You have a personal rule you set yourself, you ensure the aftercare I receive, is at least twice as long as any play or punishment I receive (it is often a lot longer). Stroking my hair you whisper to me that you want me to get gently onto the floor on all fours, because you need me to drink water. You ask if I would prefer to drink from the water bottle or my bowl.

This isn't about humiliation, it is important to you that I rehydrate, but you know how much sitting will hurt me, and you don't want me to stand right now. Being on all fours allows me to be steady, and that is why you give me the option. 'Water bottle, please Master', I say in a croaky voice, my throat hurting from screaming, and crying both during the punishment as well as after. You take the lid off, and hand me the water bottle, holding my waist as I kneel up. You allow me as much time as I need, stroking my hair, you repeat over 'good girl', encouraging me to finish it all.

You ask me if I need the bathroom, and I tell you I do not. You then give me the option of laying down on your bed, or my dog bed. I am not sure if it's the sorrowful submissive in me, that it's right in front of me, or the fact it really is so soft, I choose my pet bed, and you ask me to lay down in it however I feel most comfy. I crawl into it, laying down on my side. The soft material really does feel amazing next to my naked body. Holding your hand for comfort, you sit down next to me and stroke me all over, softly, tenderly.

After any punishment its important to us both to talk. To acknowledge what I did, and discuss my punishment. I always find the start of these conversations difficult but a few awkward words spoken now is better than leaving things unsaid. 'Are you ready to talk'? You ask gently, and I nod my head, whispering 'yes Master'. You don't avoid the big questions with small talk, you get straight to asking, 'how do you feel about the punishment I gave you'? I knew you would be asking me this question, still, it is not an easy question to answer.

'Considering what I did, and the fact I thought for a time you were going to leave, I know it could have been worse'. I whisper, answering, but too ashamed to look at you. You grimace internally when I say that, you hate yourself for saying that. Stroking my back you sigh, 'yeah, I shouldn't have said that. I was angry, I lost my temper in the corridor, which caused me to say that'. You look upset but not with me, with yourself. 'Master, it told me how angry you were, and you had every right to be', I say trying to make you feel better. 'Well, I'm sorry for saying that, but I have a much bigger apology to make to you right now'.

Until this point I haven’t made eye contact with you, but that changed when you said that, and I look at you puzzled. 'I am sorry for not getting your glitter. I promised I would when I got home, and I completely forgot'. 'It's okay Master, it doesn't forgive what I did. I convinced myself you left your office open so I could get it myself'. We both smile a little, and then something springs back into my mind I thought of while I was writing my lines. 'Master, why was your office open'? You tell me about feeling horny last night, while it was late, you knew you had the day off today, so you went into your office to watch porn. You tell me that after you heard a noise downstairs, after checking the house, once you came back upstairs, you never checked to see if you had shut the door or not. Once the house was secure, the effect of working far too late and the alcohol you drank just took over and you went into your bedroom, you add you had barely got undressed and into bed when you fell asleep.

You ask me how I felt in the cage as you listed my full punishment. I answer telling you it was overwhelming, all I wanted was to apologise and hug you. I point out being grounded for three weeks means I will not be allowed to attend my colleagues birthday party next Friday evening after work. You joke asking me if I intend to tell her the reason why, and I look at you smiling as I say sarcastically, 'oh of course. I'm sorry I can't come to your birthday anymore Liz, I'm being punished and grounded for breaking my Owners office rule'. 'You know, you don't have to call me Owner', you say smiling, 'Sir or Dominant works just as well’, you add matching my level of sarcasm with your own. ‘Maybe that night I will send you to bed extra early, seven o'clock straight after dinner'.

I smile, but my heart sinks a little, if you were to ask me honestly what was worse, your physical punishments or the other punishments you give me, I would choose other every time, even after the spanking I've just received. The chances are you're not joking, sending me to bed early when I should be out with friends. When I'm getting into bed the same time as my colleagues are placing their food orders with the waiter is humiliating, frustrating, and is definitely a reminder to think twice before breaking one of your rules again.

As good as it is to smile, share a mutual joke, this conversation is serious. Bringing it back to the reason we have these discussions you say, 'you never really answered my question, how do you feel about your punishment'? Yeah, I hadn't really answered your question, I might have been expecting it, but I still hate these kind of questions, I find it embarrassing reflecting on punishments you give. But as one adult to another, I owe you my thoughts, 'I honestly think overall it is fair Master, the punishments from Monday are going to be difficult but I know I fully deserve them. I don't think they are lenient, or overly harsh. To be honest, I am surprised you didn't spank me more, I've never gotten less than 100 strikes for breaking a core rule before, and even with your cat I doubt I received more than 50'.

That statement you definitely agree with! 'Oh trust me, the only reason I was that lenient was because I belted your backside this morning. There is a part of me that wanted to spank you a lot more, a lot harder. But you wouldn't have been able to take it. I'm sadistic, but you know I will never take you beyond what you can handle'. Satisfied with my answer you ask me if there is anything else I want to ask, say or discuss, and I shake my head. You do intend for us to have a conversation at some point about reintroducing some form of maintenance discipline, but that’s not a conversation to have during aftercare.

With that, you retrieve your tablet, put on a Disney film for me to watch, Cars, and you set it down so I can easily watch it without moving. Slowly, very slowly as the minutes pass, I feel better, I feel myself becoming me. Right now I’m a 'very sorry for disobeying you', version of myself. But I'm definitely becoming me, not your badly behaved submissive, not your naughty disobedient little girl, just your submissive, your pet, your little. A quarter of the way into the movie, you pause it and ask me if I could eat. I nod my head, and whisper 'yes Master'. You bend down, kiss my head and say 'you have permission to address me as you wish again. You were a good girl for your Master, thank you'.

You play the movie and get up, as you do I turn to you and ask if I can have cookies. 'I'm making you a sandwich, I will bring you chocolate as well'. You turn to walk out and I call after you, 'please can I have cookies Sir'. You roll your eyes slightly, but you can't help but smile, your girl is back. If I’m pushing ever so slightly, then I've forgiven myself enough right now to move on, and that is what you need to hear, what you need to see me do. It is a small demonstration of the trust I have in you, that you won't become angry, or disproportionate in your response, because you've already said no to cookies once I wouldn’t be me, if I didn’t ask again. Smiling at me you reply 'absolutely not, I won't be long, if you need me just speak into your monitor'. You leave your bedroom, leaving the door open, on your way downstairs you bring up my monitor on your phone as you see me reach for the button that allows me to talk to you 'please can I have cookies Daddy' I say in the best little girl voice I can muster. You just shake your head smiling, cookies it is then!

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 15- Punishment Time- Your Slipper, Your Cane

© L 2025

* Trigger Warning

If you don't feel you want to read a physical punishment chapter, if it would trigger you, then don't. L has received the cat, so read her aftercare. It will not detract from the overall story. It is more important to me any reader looks after themselves first.

There is little reprieve after the cat, you allow me a moment to catch my breath, and then you point to your cross. My stomach churns that much, I contemplate using my safe word. As I move to your cross, you grab Radcliffe, and take him out your room, placing him back on my bed. Returning, you head to your cuffs and select your 4 heaviest leather cuffs. Walking to me you are faced with seeing just how red and marked my ass is already from my earlier belting. You nearly point out that I chose a bad day to disrespect you, the strike of your slipper and then cane over the belt marks are really going to sting and rip into me physically, in more ways than one. But you don't, you believe you have pushed me mentally as far as you can, hence why you have now returned Radcliffe to my bedroom. The mental toll that being punished in front of my teddies takes on me can be crippling.

You also resolve that you will try and show me some mercy by working your way around the marks you have already left. But, it won't be easy, and unfortunately striking the welts is inevitable, especially by the time you come to cane me. You already know the cane will likely break my skin as it is already fragile, and after ten strikes with your rubber slipper, it won't take much more. You secure my ankles first, and then my wrists. You come round to the back of me and brush my hair over my shoulder so it is out the way. 'I really am truly sorry Master', I say quietly. You pause and stand completely behind me, kiss the back of my head, bring your arms round my waist and hug me, you are so loving, so gentle, 'I know you are baby girl', you say softly. You let yourself hold me, but only for a few seconds.

Letting me go you step away from me and my heart inevitably beats faster, I know what is coming. First you retrieve a medium to large butt plug, and smear deep heat over the end, you part my ass cheeks, and push the metal plug it in my asshole, no easing it in, the purple jewel sparkles, and you grin, knowing the internal discomfort I am already feeling, that will grow. Now you retrieve your slipper. Yes it will sting, but the rubber will also deliver a deeper pain too. You only use the slipper on me when I have been a very bad girl in little space. You are careful when I’m in little space how you punish me, and with what, for example you would never use the cat you just used, to punish me in little space. As a little, I am delicate, fragile, my head space can't take the kind of punishment it can when I'm in my adult mind-set. You also find spanking me in little space isn't generally effective as a punishment, there are much better ways to correct my behaviour. However, there is an exception to this, and that is your slipper. With it's plimsoll look, rubber back, there is no mistaking the slipper hurts, really hurts. It isn't something you use a lot because pain wise I put it at almost the same level as your cane, certainly the way you use it anyway. However, there is something inherently 'little' to us both about getting the slipper, that makes it perfect to spank my bare bottom when only a spanking to correct my naughty behaviour in little space will do.

Returning to me, you brush the cold surface over my ass, you slide it between my legs and move it up until you make contact with my pussy and I wince, the cat has definitely left its mark, you can see my swollen puffy lips easily. Removing it, you hold it back and bring it down in a medium to hard strength hit on my ass. I let out a gurgling cry, and my toes lift my feet, my back arches. Usually that kind of first strike would be met with nothing more than an exhale of my breath, maybe a light whimper or moan, you usually spank me with the slipper a lot harder. But I don't usually start my spankings with an ass as red as a ripe tomato. 'One, thank you Master', I say almost immediately, knowing you can hit harder, knowing you probably will. As soon as I have thanked you, you bring the slipper back down on my ass again, a different spot, the same level of impact, and I react in much the same way, saying 'two' and thanking you, as a small cry lingers from lips.

We slowly make our way through the strikes you don't hit me harder, you don't need to. The pain you are sure because of my reactions, is not a pain I feel often. Never have you inflicted a physical punishment on me, the day of a severe impact play session. However, you believe I deserve this, you want me to feel pain as part of my punishment. If you were working with a fresh canvas, 10 strikes at a medium to hard strength with your slipper is not how you would contemplate punishing me if this morning hadn't occurred. You might be sadistic, you might be cruel, but you also know me, know my limits, and right now I’m already nearing the edge. My red ass turns deep red, then purple, and bruising starts to show as strike three lands. But it's not just my ass you slipper, you hit my thighs and the tops of my legs as well, and they too turn various shades of red and purple.

Until strike eight, I have been relatively good at counting and then thanking you but as strike eight lands, my screams have turned to shrieks and howls, after every strike I wrestle in my restraints, not because I want out, I have my safe word for that. I fight my restraints because it is the only outlet I have before I recompose myself, which takes slightly longer after each one. While you give me time, you also don't want to loose your rhythm, and the longer I take to count strike eight the more frustrating it feels. Just as you are about to ask me to count, I say through gritted teeth, 'eight', and taking a breath as I exhale I say 'thank you Master'. The last two strikes are intentionally harder, still no where near as hard as you can and have slippered me before, but I have lost all sense of comparing pain at this point, my legs buckle each time, my restraints the only things keeping me somewhat standing.

The second I have thanked you for the tenth strike you put the slipper down, and you come behind me and embrace me. Holding me close, allowing your body to take my weight. You kiss my neck, and soothingly rub my ass. After a short time you undo my wrist restraints and allow my arms to hang by my side. You retrieve the water from the table and pass it to me, ordering me to drink, helping me to do so, slowly stroking my hair. When I have drunk about half the bottle I pass it to you. You take a short drink from it yourself, and then replace it back on the table. Then slowly, you reattach my wrist restraints to the cross, 'almost there', you say, knowing that might be the case, but the worst we both know is still yet to come. I can't, I can't do this, I know I can't. I whisper 'please don't Master', and kissing the back of my head you say 'we both know I have to', and I say nothing more as you collect your cane from the cabinet.

While you are fond of the cane, I certainly am not. It is a soft limit of mine for a reason, as such you keep the cane purely to punish me, but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy using it. You tap the cane up my legs lightly, my wrists move in my restraints, I whimper slightly in anticipation. As you come up behind me, the caring side of your dominance has evaporated. 'I won't start until you ask me to strike you', you say in a calm but very authoritative tone. I want to scream at you that I can't, that you just need to hit me and get it over with. But I also know, that response will not be met with kindness or sympathy.

You are as deep into Dom space/Master mode as I am into sub space right now, your sadistic tendencies really have been let loose. I have signed a contract, I wear your collar, we mutually agreed what my hard and soft limits are, if this was a court room I would have no defence, I broke a core rule, there is no way out. Metaphorically speaking there is one emergency eject button, my safe word, but I don't use that when I am scared, when I don't want a particular punishment. It is there just in case you hit my limit.

I rarely use my safe word 'red', and I haven't in a long time, as you know me so well you know when you are about to push me too far and you stop before we get to that point. If you need to, you use the safe word yourself, which brings with it, its own consequences (but that's a different story, for a different day). Occasionally I will use yellow to signal when I'm nearing my limit, or when I need a break, but again you factor these into every session, and we communicate. Green I use when we are trying something new, a new playing position, technique, toy, it's an easy way for me to communicate with you to carry on without you stopping to ask.

The tension in the room is electrifying, I speak but I can't bring myself to say the words you have ordered me to. Instead I whimper 'Master, I’m truly sorry'. 'You will be', is all you say as you acknowledge my words. The room falls silent again, you will not start until I ask you to. After several minutes you say 'if you don't ask me to strike you, I will pick up the slipper, and carry on using that. But I will not undo your restraints until you ask me to strike you with the cane'. I whimper again, and just as you begin to think I won't, you hear me say in barely more than a whisper 'I know Master, I'm sorry, please hit me with the cane'. Your reaction is instant, you don't hesitate, you bring the cane down, again only at a medium strength, but to me it feels like the hardest strike you could give me, that you have given me. I cry in pain my knees almost buckle, my wrists pull in my restraints. I shriek and howl, the cane feeling like a hot iron swiping my body. Without thinking my legs try to move, only to hear clank of the chain between my ankle cuffs and the D rings at the bottom of the cross, holding my legs down.

You allow me time to regain my composure, I slowly do, 'One' I say followed by 'thank you Master', but I don't say anything further. We both know what I need to say next, you continue saying nothing, you pace softly back and fourth behind me, admiring your work, as time passes, you say 'I've got all night'. 'Please cane me Master', I say tensing as you almost instantly strike me again. I again, instantly cry, screaming as the cane lands. Between the belt, the few cat strikes and the slipper my ass is shades of bright red, deep red and purple, and now the cane marks finish it off, another work of art to compliment my cat strikes. Quicker this time I count, thank you, and eventually as tears begin to fall down my face, I surrender, and ask you to cane me again. Sobbing, as the third cane strike lands, am no longer fighting your order, my body and mind has accepted its fate. Each time I count, thank you, and ask for another that little bit quicker.

You strike me 5 more times like this, you bring the eighth strike down hard. Hitting me as hard as I can manage, it's still not as hard as you could hit, but you would never subject me to that. My whimpers and sobs have not stopped, saliva drips from my mouth, tears of pain fall from my eyes, the only reason I am still fully standing is because my restraints have me pulled tight. 'Eight.....thank you..Master.........please cane me again', I whisper. As soon as I say this you drop the cane on the floor. You immediately come to me, taking my weight you remove the plug, undo my restraints, my wrists then my ankles and you pick me up and place me on your bed. I curl up laying on my side, gripping you tightly.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 14- Punishment Time- Your Cat

© L 2025

One Hour Later

An hour goes by, and you have had more time to calm, more time to think. You even manage to chill out somewhat and watch some TV. You now have my full punishment planned, and this has helped you to relax. While some elements to my punishment will last weeks, once you have told me the full punishment, and physically punished me today, you will have forgiven me, if you were being honest, you already have. 90 minutes into my lines and you begin to glance at the monitor more. While it's only a rough guess, you imagine I will be finished relatively soon.

15 minutes later, you glance at my monitor and see I have done as you ordered, closed the writing pad, placed it on the floor, put the pen on top, and assumed my apology position. Kneeling down, my head bowed to my knees, and my arms outstretched in front of me, together, palms facing down. Wasting no time you go to the kitchen, grab a bottle of water from the fridge and ascend the stairs once again, you enter the bedroom calmly and close the door behind you. You put the water on a table, move over and check your toys, then you sit on the edge of the bed facing my cage. I hear everything you do, but don't move, right now everything you do, you do with purpose and precision. You do it because you need me to know you are in full control, and believe it or not, it brings a very small amount of comfort to me, still, it feels like an eternity until you finally speak to me.

'You will listen to me very, very carefully, don't move, say yes Master if you understand', you eventually say. Almost instantly I say 'yes Master'. You acknowledge how much I have truly fucked up, you explain to me how this made you feel, why you were so angry and disappointed, why it was so difficult to decide my punishment. The only thing you never mention at any point, is our fort weekend.

Maybe there is nothing to say, maybe it should be obvious that naughty girls don't get to have forts in the living room, with cuddles, and films and treats. You finish your lecture by saying, 'the last time you broke my office rule, I made you a promise.... that I would break you if you broke it again.... so this is your full punishment... How you react is up to you, but if I was you, I would do what I'm told, I wouldn't argue, back chat, or try to negotiate, you will only make things even worse'. 'Yes Master', I again acknowledge, not that I ever planned on trying to argue or negotiate my way out of a punishment I know I fully deserve.

You tell me when you release me from my cage that you expect me to get out, hand you my lines, and while you check them, I am to strip naked ready for your inspection. Once you have checked my lines, and are ready, you will direct me to retrieve your cat, which I will do, and return to you, placing it in your hand. Once I have, I am to assume my attention position.

After you have used your cat, you will point to your cross, and I should move to it. Placing myself facing it, ready to be secured onto it, which you will then do. You then tell me you will retrieve the largest butt plug I can manage from my toys. But instead of adding lubrication, you will smear deep heat over it before inserting it into me. You tell me you will then retrieve your slipper, and I will count and thank you for the ten strikes you will give me, then you will retrieve your cane. You let that last statement hang in the air, you see my body involuntary tense, and you slightly smile to yourself. You promised you would break me, and the cat, your slipper and then the cane will certainly help you keep that promise.

You continue, telling me that I must ask for you to cane me, and I will then count, thank you, and ask for another strike, until you decide to stop. You've already decided you will only cane me a few times, at an absolute maximum ten, but you want me to feel completely at your mercy. You remind me I have my safe words, but you are almost sure I would never use my safe word under these circumstances. So you know you have to keep an even closer eye on me than usual, given you know how far you are pushing me with this punishment. However, my punishment is not stopping there. You tell me on Monday I will not be spending the day relaxing, I will join you in your office, I will be completely naked except for my collar and leash. On my knees picking up every bit of glitter from the floor with nothing but my hands and tweezers.

That night I will prepare dinner for us both, and you expect me to eat mine off the dining room floor, at your feet. Not from my bowl, from the floor. Not using my hands, using my mouth. So you suggest I make something that will be easier for me to eat from the floor, adding that I should also ensure the floor is clean before I serve my food. You tell me if I do this, eat all my food, and lick the floor clean after, then you will allow me to eat out my dog bowl for the rest of the week. If I don't, I will eat from the floor until I do lick it clean. You tell me I am grounded for the next two weeks starting on Monday. I will not be allowed out after work, not allowed out at weekends, with no exceptions. You tell me starting immediately, I will not cum for the next three weeks. Finally, you tell me I will be sleeping, in my bed every night for four weeks, at a bed time you choose that suits you, again with no exceptions.

You sit silently, letting all that information sink in, you believe this could be the most intense punishment you have ever given me. Your more severe punishments have always included three elements; physical, humiliation and restriction of my life for a period of time, and this definitely has all three. You don't really want to break me, but you will take it to the edge, and certainly today, and over the weekend you know you will have to keep a closer eye on my mental health. This punishment is your decision, so it is your responsibility to ensure I make it through it, in a positive frame of mind, and you haven’t finished talking to me yet. You ask me if I am ready to come out my cage, you allow the hesitation that follows your question, but eventually I say 'yes Master'.

You open the cage door and sit back down, you are in no hurry, whereas sometimes I can take too long getting ready for a punishment, today you give me the space I need. I crawl out, stand, and after handing you my lines, I immediately undress in front of you. Once naked, and ready for my inspection, your eyes as usual scan me, it's something you just automatically do, although you only held my naked body this morning. 'Right, there is one further thing that you must do before I start', you say putting down my lines, although I am supposed to look ahead in this position, your comment catches me off guard. I look at you, questioningly. 'Apologise to Radcliffe' you say allowing my break from my position. My cheeks flush red again, tears creep into my eyes. 'and tell him why you are sorry'.

With emotion in my voice, feeling completely humiliated, I apologise to my teddy Radcliffe, and for the first time you hear genuine remorse in my tone and words. When I finish you pull me to you and onto your lap, you hug me tight and thank me. Just as a slither of hope creeps into my mind, that you won't continue with my punishment, you release your hug, and order me to collect your cat.

Your cat-o-nine tails is your prettiest whip, with nine braided leather strands of pink, purple and black. It is by far the most extreme whip you use on me. You have others in your collection that you have used in the past on others, your single tail whip, your snake whip and you own two metal chain whips. But they are locked away in the attic, they are items you regret buying, you have never even allowed me to view the two metal whips. You simply can't imagine ever holding them again. For me, your cat is more than enough, you use it to enforce, to punish and the biting sting of the nine tails hitting my flesh brings tears to my eyes almost every time.

I retrieve the cat, almost shaking as I hand you it. As you thank me, I assume my wait position. Standing facing you, legs spread, arms crossed behind me at the waist, I then raise myself onto my tip toes. Satisfied I am in the correct position, you tell me you intend to use the cat to wake me up, metaphorically speaking. You go on to remind me that when we first became Dominant and submissive, that you used discipline spankings to keep me grounded, focused (although it was generally your hand you used, sometimes a paddle, or your belt, but never the cat). To help me maintain a level of respect for you that we both wanted to foster. Previous slaves you have owned routinely received weekly discipline, but I am not your slave, you have never wanted that between us. So, after a time, you felt they were no longer needed on a frequent basis, you did them less, eventually forgetting, and stopping altogether.

You tell me you realised today you have been too relaxed, and that me breaking a core rule is as much your fault as it is mine. I clearly need that focus again, that reminder. You ask me if I agree, and I say 'yes Master'. But a simple yes Master answer isn't what you want to hear. You prompt me to answer honestly, that I shouldn't just agree with you because I am in trouble. You ask me to share my thoughts, after all, only I can say why I thought breaking a core rule would be acceptable.

Initially I say nothing, fuck, what can I say? It was a dumb, really idiotic, stupid mistake. But that isn't what you want to hear. When I don't answer you say, 'I would have thought you had ample opportunity to reflect on your behaviour in the cage, but if you need longer you can go back in and write me another 250 lines if it would help'. Your raw dominance is like a spotlight, picking me out, holding me accountable. But I can't write another 250 lines. As hard as it is, I have to answer, and ultimately, I have to agree with you. We both know I do, and it truly breaks my heart.

With my voice cracking I say, 'Master, yes, you haven’t kept up with my discipline. Maintaining my discipline is something we both agreed would still happen occasionally, and it hasn’t. I can't tell you if it would have stopped me going into your office. But I want you to know that is not your fault, it's mine'. I had to add that at the end, I couldn't place any more weight on your shoulders than I already had, my response makes me feel sick to my stomach. It might be true, it might be what you wanted to hear, but I have effectively just blamed you for my actions. 'Maybe it would have, maybe it wouldn't. We will never know, and that is my responsibility to shoulder', you say standing, shaking the cat to allow the strands to unfurl and straighten.

Standing to my right, I watch you, tears already fill my eyes, as you raise your hand and bring the cat down onto my tits, the tears fall down my face. I scream in agony, you hit me as hard as I can take, the cat striking my left nipple, it feels like a needle piercing me, you bring your arm back again, you repeat the strike, the same strength, the same position, the same area of my nipple. You walk round in front of me, you could have walked behind, but you want me to watch, I take the moment to steady myself back onto my tip toes. Holding this position as you strike me is difficult, but I know that is why you wanted me in this position. You want it to be difficult, this shouldn't be easy. You repeat the same motion, striking now my right tit and nipple in the exact same way.

You used to give demonstrations and classes on using whips, but the one you have truly mastered is the cat. It was always part of your finale, as you decorated your submissive assistant in patterns, the artist Piet Mondrian would be impressed by. You flick the cat over and over again. When I loose my balance, you strike my ass and tell me to correct myself. But other than correcting me the cat only decorates the front of my body. Criss-crossing down, across my chest, stomach. You enjoy paying attention to my pussy. The braids strike over and over, the sound of the ends hitting my lips, sending ripple after ripple of fire through me is torture. At one point you do move behind me, but it is only to expertly swing the cat between my open legs, ensuring every part of my pussy is reached.

I have nothing for support, nothing to hold on to, my feet hit the floor, and while you do notice, as you concentrate on ensuring the most delicate part of me is thoroughly chastised you allow it. The second you break away from my now red raw cunt, the cat snaps across my feet. 'Lift now' is all you command, and I go back to standing on tip toes, as my screams and sobs fill the air in harmony with one another. Despite the searing pain, my screams, cries, tears, I always had to agree, your cat left the most wonderful marks across me. You didn’t keep count, that wasn’t what this was for. As you finish striking my ankles and feet, you tell me to relax as you return the cat yourself, I look down, my body covered in red crossed marks and welts. I can see my pussy lips are red and very swollen from the whipping. I ache everywhere, and we have only just begun.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 13- Downstairs/Upstairs

© L 2025

Standing on the landing you steady yourself leaning on the bannister to compose yourself, or at least try to. Taking some deep breaths you take a moment, your head is spinning. Did that really just happen? You really can't face your office right now, but you need to sort it out, and secure it. It's only as you get to the doorway you question how I got in. You feel in your pocket and find that your key is still there. Just as you do, your eyes meet the glass of whisky you left last night when you heard a noise downstairs. The realisation then strikes you, you never came back to the room, you left it open. You switch off the computer and monitor, take the glass, throw the glitter pots in the bin, getting glitter over your hand.

As for the spilled glitter, I will be dealing with that, you're not sure how yet, it is my mess, I will be clearing it up. But regardless, you know you'll be finding glitter for the next year no matter how much the carpet is cleaned of it. It's why you keep it locked away, and why you rarely agree to let me use it. You pull the door closed, it automatically locks, but you push on it just to check. As you walk back slowly past my bedroom, the door is open, and you glance in. You see my favourite teddy resting on top of my toys, walking in, you retrieve Radcliffe, you also take the monitor. You walk into your bedroom not looking at or acknowledging me, not that I have moved, and I practically hold my breath when you walk in. You place my teddy on your bed, and place the monitor on your bedside table, both you position looking at me, then you leave, but at least this time you don't slam the door.

Downstairs

You head downstairs, your head pounding, you head into the kitchen. You get yourself a glass of water, take some headache pills, and walk to the sofa that 15 minutes ago you were happily sleeping on. You sit down, adrenaline still running through you. You can't help but feel crushed, your mind is racing. On the one hand you are devastated I broke your office rule, especially today. You look at the blankets in the corner of the room ready to be made into our fort, the table still has my plans, list's and unfinished sign on it, the kitchen work top is full of treats for the weekend. On the other hand you can't help but partly blame yourself, you never leave your office unlocked, and yes, you know that is no excuse, but you are still angry with yourself all the same.

You're also frustrated with yourself for not getting my glitter. You promised me when you got home, the first thing you would do was get it, and you didn't, and I didn't badger or harass you. I trusted you would get it, that you would keep your promise. You never break promises, and yes it may not be the most important promise you have ever made, but to you that is irrelevant, you still broke it.

As the painkillers kick in you feel yourself feeling more composed, feeling yourself getting back in control, and you check my monitor to see me crying and wiping my eyes. While tears never effect your judgement when it comes to addressing my behaviour, you still hate seeing me cry when you have told me off. My tears of pain turn you on, but my tears of sorrow break your heart. Yes you have to address what I did, but you need time to think, to fully calm before you hand out any punishment, you are far too angry right now. But you also know you have a responsibility to stop me going into sub drop, so you grab a writing pad and a pen, and head up stairs. Entering your bedroom, I'm sitting up in my cage, but dare not make eye contact with you. You drop both the items through the bars and order me to look at you. 'Write this down', you say commandingly, 'I broke Masters office rule and will be punished severely'. You see me hesitate as you say the words punished severely, and just wait until I've finished writing.

'You will write that out 250 times. This isn't your main punishment, but it will give you something to concentrate on. I hope by the time you've written it out 250 times you are suitability worried'. You pause as I look up at you. 'Because you should be! When you are done, shut the note pad, put the pen on top, and assume your apology position. I will keep watch, and come and get you once you are finished'. With that you turn and leave, heading back downstairs. You know how much this will torture me, but you know me well enough to know these will be the neatest, best written lines I've ever done. Having something to focus on will stop sub drop. However, downstairs you bring up my monitor on your phone and set it in front of you, glancing at it regularly, just in case.

Upstairs

Your bedroom is somewhat sound proof, for obvious reasons, so as soon as you slam your bedroom door I don't hear anything further. But I don't move, I've no idea how long you are leaving me, and I'm still in shock. Not specifically because of what I did, or your reaction. I trust you completely, so even when you held me in the corridor it never occurred to me you would hurt me, but you have scared me more than I can remember ever feeling. As you ordered me into my cage I crawled in on all fours. My cage is big enough for me to sit in, but I just can't move. Only once before have I broken your office rule, but you were in your office when I walked in, without knocking and without you asking.

I vividly remember the pain you inflicted on me, I remember the promise you made me that day too. You told me that day you had taken it easy on me, and if I ever broke it again, you would break me. Now you said this in context, it's not the first time you have used that phrase, you say it to emphasise a point, and within it I know you will severely push my limits. But I also know you will never cross the line of complete trust I have given you. I reprimand myself over and over again. Why did I go into your office? Why did I need the glitter that much? Why didn't I shut the door and just colour my sign in? Act first think later, you have always said gets me into more trouble with you than anything else. If I had got the glitter and you hadn't caught me in your office, you would have still known I got it when I used it, the outcome would have been the same.

As these thoughts cloud my mind you burst through the door my teddy in one hand, my monitor in the other. You place them down and leave, not looking at me, not acknowledging me, and that hurts so much. The monitor is obvious, when I'm in my cage you always make sure you can keep an eye on me. While it is only a guess, occasionally, you make my teddy watch while you punish me, especially when I've been very naughty in little space. It's something I hate, something that definitely reminds me you are in control, and can do (within our limits), what you want, its humiliating, and shameful.

Once you leave me again I sit down in my cage. With you placing the monitor to watch me, I know it could technically be hours before you return to me, you've not ordered me into a particular position, so I make myself as comfortable as I can. Sitting in silence, my mind now turns to our weekend. I rarely cry at any time because of our dynamic, occasionally when you push my limits of pain, and humiliation I can endure I do, but you are always there. If I cry because I have broken a rule, done something I shouldn't have, I really must have messed up, and I can head into sub drop very easily. Now I feel tears fill my eyes, as I begin to realise not only have I broken one of your most fundamental rules, completely betrayed your trust, but I have ruined our fort weekend too.

I wipe my eyes, angry and frustrated, and you notice me do this on my monitor. Within moments you enter your bedroom and walk to my cage. I can feel my heart beating so loudly I'm convinced you can hear it too. I keep my head down, too scared and to be honest, too ashamed to raise my head and look at you. Just then you drop a large writing pad and pen into my cage through the bars. 'Look at me', you say sternly, you are no longer shouting, but this almost scares me more, and I slowly raise my eyes to meet yours.

You tell me to write the following sentence down- I broke Masters office rule and will be punished severely. As you speak the line, it sends a metaphorical shiver through me. I can barely write the last two words, punished severely. I'm not stupid, I knew you would punish me heavily, but writing it down reinforces this message. It only gets worse when you then tell me I will rewrite that same line 250 times, adding you hope I'm suitability worried by the time I'm finished. I'm already more scared than I can remember being, I don't see how this can get any worse.

You soon leave, you offer no words of comfort, not that I deserve any, but the absence of any comfort is deafening. I sit staring at the page probably for only minutes but it seems like hours. As much as I want to get the lines over and done with to the best I can do, I am not ready for what will happen when I am finished, and I'm not sure I ever will be!

I glance up at my teddy, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Slowly I write the numbers 1 to 20 on the page, and, line by line I rewrite the same sentence you told me to. Line by line the words severely punished echo through me, alongside one word 'Master', conjuring images I have only seen in more extreme porn films.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 12- DON'T Call Me Daddy

© L 2025

Desperate to see that I'm just in the bathroom upstairs you walk up in almost silence, but half way up you already see the bathroom door is open and the light is off. Just as you reach the top step you clearly hear noise, and it's only coming from one room. You walk quietly to your office door, and see me happily watching what you can obviously guess is some kind of porn film, and see the glitter pots on your desk.

Your mind explodes, rage rips through you. How could I? Really? How the fuck could I? You feel crushed, your chest feels heavy, is this really happening? You are sure your heartbeat must be louder than the film I'm watching, as it is deafening your ears. As my hand reaches for the mouse I hear in a low hiss 'don't even... fucking... think about it', you growl. Scaring me, and catching me completely off guard I jump, knocking over the 2 glitter pots I put on your desk. One falls over sprinkling a small amount of green glitter all over your desk, the other rolls off the desk, landing on the floor where the top flies off, and spreads bright pink glitter all over your carpet.

I sit rooted to your chair, almost terrified, not moving, just staring at you, it's very clear to see your eyes burning with anger. You click your fingers and point to your feet. Despite feeling scared, my feet feeling like concrete, and my legs feeling like lead pipes I slowly slide off the chair and approach you, more scared than I have been in a very very long time. You stand still looking over me, you daren't make eye contact, you're desperately trying to calm yourself enough for now to address this situation.

After what feels like an eternity, you compose yourself just enough, and you hold your hand out and gesture for me to put my hand in yours, but you say absolutely nothing. Deciding now is not going to be a good time to hesitate, I tentatively put my hand in yours. As soon as I do you clamp down hard on it, and pull me into the corridor.

Within a millisecond, and in one swift movement, you push me roughly against the wall, and put your hand around my throat. You don't hurt me, you don't squeeze, you don't choke me, it is purely symbolic, with all the force of your dominance behind it.

'One rule', you scream at me. 'You have one rule above all others I ask you to keep and respect. Fuck, it's actually the only rule you have, that's harder for you to break it than obey it. Just stay out my office! How fucking hard is it? Seriously, do you not have enough? Or has this last week been too easy? Should I have belted you harder this morning, to remind you of your place, remind you that you obey me and my rules. I don't think my rules are overly difficult, we agreed on them together'! Your words are vicious, they cut me like a sharp knife, but your voice also cracks with emotion. I have hurt you, betrayed you, gone against you, your rules and my contract that I was so proud to sign. 'I know' I mange to squeak out, in a whisper a mouse would have trouble hearing.

Maybe you heard me, maybe you didn't, as you continue outpouring your feelings. 'Do you have any idea how much this hurts, seeing you in there. I have nothing to hide from you, but I ask for one small space. You have your bedroom, that lovely big room that has everything you asked me for in it. This is mine, and my rule is simple, never, fucking, go, in, it'. I honestly can't remember the last time I saw you this angry. Without thinking, without knowing if you have finished I say scared 'Daddy I'm sorry', desperate to fix the stupid lapse in my judgement. You pause for a split second, but don't let me go, grunting at my attempt at an apology. 'Don't fucking dare call me Daddy right now' you say not letting up, your anger raging inside you.

Yes, occasionally, a situation will present itself just like this where the title I have used is not correct for the situation. The fact I have tried to soften you by calling you Daddy only angers you further. I am not showing any real remorse, not acknowledging the severity of what I have done. 'Lidy' you bark, 'this isn't you forgetting something, back chatting, not doing something when I ask, this isn't you arguing with me'.

You pause, partly for effect, partly because you need to try and compose yourself. 'If you have the balls to break one of your most significant and core rules, have the fucking balls to address me properly, as your owner', again you pause, but this time to allow me to correct myself, but I'm too scared to say anything. Staring into my eyes, into my soul, you slap my face, not hard, a small sting, a firm admonishment, I am in trouble, BIG trouble! 'I'M... SORRY... SIR', you say after a pause, shouting, emphasising each word slowly, you rarely raise your voice to me like this, but I rarely give you reason to. Not letting me go, you stand, your face too close to mine, you breathe so heavily in anger your body is practically shaking.

'In fact right now Sir is too good for you, address me as Master until I order otherwise....Fuck up once more and I will leave you home alone the entire weekend, and you won't hear from me at all'. Tears fill my eyes, ignoring me, leaving me alone, is the worst punishment you could ever give me. The thought terrifies me, you once ignored me for 12 hours without leaving, and it took me days to recover from. Although you never told me this, you decided you would never punish me like that again. But you never imagined I would ever give you reason to even contemplate it. However, my worry right now is your order for me to call you 'Master'. It's usually at least several days if not a couple of weeks between your 'Master mode', today it's been hours. I can't, I can't take another spanking. My ass pulsates at the thought of more strikes on it today. Why? Why did I not think though my actions, how could I have been so stupid.

'I'm sorry Master', I whisper. With that you let off my throat and pull me into your bedroom. You signal for me to get in my cage, and you slam the cage shut once I have crawled in. You don't say another word, you head out your bedroom door, slamming that shut too.

The Fort Part 2- Don't Call Me Daddy

Chapter 11- Glitter

© L 2025

As we walk in the front door you order me to fill my sippy cup and drink some water, put everything we bought away, and bring all the blankets and everything else down we will need, and finish getting ready for our weekend. As I begin to do as you ask, you sit down on the sofa, you're tired, to be honest you're exhausted, its easy to tell. Despite how much you try to hide it from me, you decide while I busy myself, you will take that nap.

I see you quickly fall asleep and I want you to get as much rest as you can, so once I have covered you in my Whinnie The Pooh blanket, I do as you order as quietly as possible, so I don't disturb you. I don't really put the things we brought away in the kitchen, instead I put everything in neat rows on the work surface; sweets, chocolate, biscuits, cookies, crisps, all lined up neatly.

I head upstairs, putting my blanket box on my bed, I take out the one remaining blanket, set it to the side, then look around my room. I take my colouring pencils and my colouring book and I put them in first. I then get my unicorn toy car set, with the pink truck and the smaller cars that fit in it. Then I put my doll Rosalie in it. Then my teddy’s Sully, Olaf and Stitch, followed by 2 of my My Little Ponies, and Fluffy my unicorn. Now the box is full, so I squish my Care Bear down the side saying sorry as I do. Finally I put Radcliffe on top. It's not as many as I wanted, but I can't help but think I will be able to sneak my other teddies in without you noticing.

Then I begin the task of bringing everything we need to make the fort down stairs. I can't carry a lot at once, I know if I carry too much, trip and fall I will wake you, and you won't be happy, so I make many trips, again putting things in piles in one row under the windowsill including- blankets, duvets, pillows, cushions. The only 2 things I don't bring down are my dog bed and my toy box, I'm gonna need Daddy’s help with those. After I bring the last 2 pillows down, I glance at the table, I have one thing left to do! Finish my sign.

I look over at you, you promised you would get my glitter and you didn't. I move over to you, stroking your arm, I say 'Daddy' very quietly, but you don't wake. I then pull on your hand gently, but all you do is stir, and roll over. I don't want to wake you, not for this, you've been working so hard this week, and you've still taken care of me. I know we will have much more fun if you are well rested, so I decide to head to my bedroom to see what else I can use. As I get to the top of the stairs, I glance in the direction of your office. No,... you always keep the door shut, it locks automatically,... but,... it wouldn't hurt to check. As I get to the door, to my complete surprise it's open.

Now I really don't know what to do. I should know, I should shut the door, and go back to finding another way to finish my sign. But, I don't move, contemplating if there is any way I can open your desk drawer without actually going in. As I quickly realise there isn't, another thought enters my head. What if you left your office open for me? I mean, you did promise, you did say I could use glitter, you did order me to finish getting ready.

If I'm honest with myself I know you haven't left the room open on purpose, but I push the rational explanation to one side as I step tentatively into your office, half expecting some kind of loud alarm to go off, but it doesn't. Let's face it, I'm really not hurting anyone by walking in, you will be so happy when you wake up and see everything finished...won't you?

I love your office, the furniture seems bigger, when I sit in your huge office chair I feel little, my feet don't come close to touching the floor. I open your desk drawers, the third one has my glitter in it, along with some sweets I completely forgot you confiscated from my bedroom 2 weeks ago, and some of my lego you stepped on a while ago, that you were definitely not amused I had left right by my bedroom door.

As I get out the glitter pots I set them down on your desk, and I nudge your computer mouse. This fires up your computer and monitor that have not been off, they have just been in sleep mode. The monitor blinks to the porn site you were scrolling through, and starts automatically playing a porn film with one man being serviced by two females who are completely naked with their hands tied behind their backs.

Meanwhile downstairs, you wake up, glancing at your watch you've been asleep just less than an hour, you turn back over to try and sleep more but as you do something catches your attention, the house is silent. Expecting any second to hear me, you shut your eyes... but... after a few moments... you don't hear me, you don't hear anything.

After another minute of silence something doesn't feel right, when I'm home the house is never this quiet. You get your phone out your pocket and check my monitor in case I've taken myself to bed, you see my toy box on my bed filled and ready, but I'm not in my room, you sit up. You're not worried, just confused, feeling yourself getting a headache, you get up and head into the kitchen to see the neat rows of treats I have lined up. It's not exactly putting them away, but it makes you smile. Back in the lounge you glance at the equally neat row of blankets, pillows, cushions and duvets I've brought down ready, and your eyes glance to the table.

Seeing my still unfinished sign, a moment of clarity hits you like a train. But I wouldn't, I couldn't, even I'm not stupid enough to get the glitter myself, right?