I really, really, really, hate this and its simply not fair, cause they all hurt, just each one hurts differently.
The problem is if i grimace or show any kind of reluctance than i know daddy will add on the amount of strokes i am to receive, which in turns makes me automatically pout which then adds on more of the horrid swats with the implement of choice, or worse still he will choose not one but several.
So you see it is a very painful (no pun intended) situation to be found in.
Daddy says there is nothing more effective than a thoroughly spanked bottom, and he loves to hear the sound of a lilone's bottom being attended to.
This for us is loving domestic discipline.
I have to chose my own discipline object, and i know that it does me the world of good when i receive my maintenance, somehow it settles me and reminds me to be respectful and appreciative of my daddy's love and constant attention.
If i don't receive it then i know i will without doubt misbehave and become frustrated and more likely to quarrel with daddy.
I think sight and sound has a lot to do with the excitement of discipline.
Watching daddy undo his belt from his pants and slowly walk over to me with it doubled up in his hands, those hands that tenderly hold me and love me also bring me to heights of passion as well as... yes tears.
Laying over a couple of pillows with my bottom pointed high in the air just waiting for the sound of his implement resonating through the room from the bareness of my rounded posterior.
Its frightening and thrilling at the same time, if you understand what i mean.
Even an over the knee hand spanking can be effective in bringing me to my senses and thus making me remember who and what Daddy is.
The HoH of my world.
Then there is the dreaded brush, i hate it.
It whacks and stings and there is very little erotic fantasy involved with it.
It produces a thud and then the sensation of a sting.
I usually get the brush for a punishment which is no fun at all so i would definitely never choose the brush.
Then there is the cane, which is cruel.
It does however create incredible feelings of eroticism and excitement, but the pain it delivers makes one soon forget about any kind of play.
It is foreboding as Daddy stands there with it in his hand and tells me to bend over his big desk, my bottom rises higher than i like and my hands reach across to the edge to give me something to grab on to which helps balance me as well as to aids somehow in easing the pain it causes.
I shut my eyes tightly as i hear it swish through the air and hits target, my legs automatically rise from the foor and my body goes into involuntary shudders as the pain rushes from my bottom to my brain and then immediately back down to my bottom again.
My hands long to leave the edge of the desk to rub and hold my bottom for comfort... but i know that will only cause an instant whackkkkkkkkkk from Daddy on them, so i struggle resist and wait in silence for the next stroke and for Daddy's permission to rub.
My choice implement is the crop, its my friend.
The swishing sounds it makes as it cuts through the air is just as scary as the cane, but the effect on my bottom is not as severe, thank goodness and Oh, did I mention after several swats, the crop is then used on my pussy in a most delicious way and the feeling i get is sooooooooooooo wonderful.
So of course today for my discipline.
I will chose the crop!
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