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.