Daddy had been talking about taking his naughty little daughter to another man for discipline for some time. He liked the idea of paying a professional stranger to give me what he said he didn't have the heart to. The idea terrified, yet thrilled me at the same time. One night, he said that maybe he should hire a governess instead. I had never been topped by a woman and in the past, was always squicked by it. (I was spanked by Tanya Fox at my first Shadow Lane party and had done a very miniscule scene with a pro domme once in Oakland, but they weren't the kind of intense role play this was to be, so I didn't think they really counted.) I had only just recently begun reading F/F stories on the newsgroup, so I guess he felt I was ready. He liked the governess idea more and more and decided to find one for me. I was terrified! Before I had too much time to fret, though, he told me he had everything arranged. He told me he had interviewed several professionals for the job and had chosen the one he thought would best be able to get his little girl under control.
Well, as it was, I didn't have much time to work myself into a panic because he set the appointment for the very next night. All day, I was on edge, blushing and squirming, fearing and craving what was to happen later in the evening. The appointment was set for 10 pm and we were her last appointment of the day. We went to a restaurant first, so I could calm my jangling nerves with a drink. He had me wear my schoolgirl uniform - short, green, pleated tartan skirt with black thigh high stockings and black Mary Janes. White shirt and tie with a black blazer. I added lipstick and a pair of pink bikini panties with red hearts on them.
He took me to the place - a subtle, nondescript building midtown, and led me in. We had to wait a few minutes and then my governess appeared. She was tall, lovely and had a very sweet smile and a musical voice. She told me I seemed like a very nice little girl and I blushed, hiding behind Daddy as she led us to the top floor dungeon, where we would have more room and privacy. She left us alone for a few minutes while she went to find something, and Daddy made me stand in the corner. I whined and begged, but he insisted, and I was there for quite a while before she came back.
Now, the odd thing is - I really had NO idea what to expect. All I could envision were the governess stories I had read and the one I had written, which were all extremely harsh, impersonal and businesslike. No nonsense and very formal and ritualized. So naturally, I was terrified that she would return "in character" and brutalize me! I think the fact that I had some expectations of how she would be gave me a sense of predictability and control over the scene. It was NOTHING like I had anticipated, which threw me off even more and stripped me of any sense of control I thought I had. The other thing was - I had been hoping they had a schoolroom type of setup, but we were in a traditional dungeon. I saw all the suspension equipment and bondage gear and for a second, I thought - "no, wait, let's do an Odessa scene instead! It seems such a shame to waste all this cool equipment!"
I heard her come in and shut the door and Daddy greeted her pleasantly. I didn't dare turn around - I didn't think I could face her! They casually discussed me while I stood there, squirming in embarrassment, Daddy telling her how outrageously inappropriate it was for a 12 year old girl to be wearing makeup at all, let alone the "provocative" underwear he raised my skirt to point out to her. I could hear the disappointment in her voice as she agreed with Daddy and said she would be more than happy to teach his little girl the lesson she obviously so desperately needed, since he couldn't bear to be as strict with me as was necessary. She said it was her duty and responsibility and she took it very seriously.
She called me from the corner and I came out, nervously looking at the floor. She sat down and told me how disappointed my daddy was.
"I know that deep down, you're a good little girl, Tasha," she said. "You just need a little guidance and direction. You don't want to be a bad girl and wind up in reform school. You don't want to break your daddy's heart, do you?"
I squirmed and mumbled, "But Daddy doesn't love me any more. He's mean to me." She smiled indulgently and lifted my chin to look me in the eyes.
"No, honey," she said softly. "He loves you and wants you to be a little girl he can be proud of. Don't you think it hurts him to have to do this to you? He's only doing it for your own good, because he loves you."
She had hit just about ALL my guilt buttons within the first five minutes! I had intended to take Mija's advice and be blatantly bratty and take delight in seeing them both open-mouthed and shocked at my unruliness, having to resort to physical force to restrain me and be exceptionally harsh to get me in line. But she was not the cold, judicial disciplinarian I was expecting at all. She was very loving, kind and - well, a lot like Daddy. Isn't it funny how kindness can sometimes be the most potent weapon possible? And one of Mija's most insistent directions was that I refuse to call her "Miss" or "Ma'am" because, as she said, this IS America! But my governess never insisted I address her in any formal way. She spoke softly and called me "honey," stroking my hair and face lovingly, and telling me how good I was being. And, while I still don't know why exactly, that seemed to intensify the intimacy between us (intimacy I've NEVER felt toward any woman and never thought I would) and made me feel all the more respectful and at her mercy, and (to my shock) GUILTY for answering her back! I was shaking my head inside at myself, utterly bewildered!
Daddy told her that he was sure I had stolen the lipstick in the first place and she said we should address the shoplifting first. She took me over her knee, raised my skirt and gently peeled down the Valentine panties, spanking me and scolding me the entire time, telling me how it was all right to have fun at the mall and talk about boys and be with my little friends, but that school was very important and that stealing was unacceptable. She never once raised her voice and was never harsh or cruel. I think she immediately spotted my weaknesses and exploited them fully, rendering me defenseless LONG before I had thought she would!
"Every little girl wants to be Daddy's little princess," she told me, increasing the intensity of the spanking. "And your daddy wants to be proud of you. Don't you want to make him proud? You know he loves you, don't you? Don't you know how much it hurts him to have to do this to you? He wouldn't have brought you here to me if he didn't love you."
I was squirming and whimpering with the strokes of her hand and when she finally stopped, she asked if I had learned my lesson about shoplifting.
"Yes, I've learned my lesson," I babbled quickly. "Daddy, I'll be good from now on, okay? Can we go now?" She laughed softly.
"No, no," she said coolly. "We've only just begun. There are so many other issues we need to address here. You're nowhere near through, I'm afraid."
She let me up and she retrieved a ruler from the table, showing it to me and smiling kindly. She addressed Daddy, asking how many calls he'd received from the school about my behavior. He said he'd had three calls yesterday alone, and that they averaged from ten to twelve a week. She nodded solemnly and led me to the wall, where she told me I needed a little more severe lesson and that I needed to be tied up. She put my wrists in leather cuffs and raised my arms over my head. Daddy suggested she blindfold me and she said that was an excellent idea. She tucked the hem of my skirt into the waistband and pulled my panties down to my ankles, where I knew it would not be long before they were kicked off.
She stroked my hair lovingly and asked me a question, which I was slow to answer.
"When I ask you a question, you're to answer me right away, is that understood?"
I nodded, then whispered, "Yes."
"Good girl." She ran her nails over my warm backside, remarking that it was a healthy glow, but she thought I would need more than that. Daddy emphatically agreed.
"Now, when I was in school," she began, drawing the ruler over my bottom. "The nuns used to use rulers on us to keep us in line. I think you need a dose of that, too. Don't you agree?"
I was feeling very little by now and I petulantly mumbled, "But I said I would be good." If she had ever once responded to my childish tactics with anger or frustration, I would have felt in control. But she didn't. Every bratty response (although by this point, I wasn't really bratty so much as pouty) was met with firm, but loving insistence that she and Daddy were indeed doing the right thing and that it was only because they wanted what was best for me. It was incredibly humbling without ever once being demeaning.
She used the ruler hard, giving me some 30-40 strokes and making me count them for her. She had already given me one stroke before she told me to start counting, so when I started, I started at two. Of course that was the wrong answer; it was a test and I had failed. She made a "tsk tsk" sound and told Daddy that I obviously hadn't learned yet. She calmly started over and this time, I counted correctly. She told me to be still, but I couldn't help moving, so she held me in place and spanked me harder, all the while casually talking with Daddy and scolding me in her sweet, lyrical voice.
I was pretty contrite when she decided to let me down, but it was only a short reprieve, as she immediately led me to a padded spanking horse of a kind I had never seen before. It was shaped like a capital P on its back, and she had me kneel on the lower part, bending across the rounded hump. She secured my wrists and ankles and I could not move at all! She said I needed a little harder lesson to get the point across and that I had one chance to be still or she would have to use ropes to secure me around my waist. I had the strangest sensation of wanting to make her proud of me, the way I feel when I'm Odessa and he's my Master, and I want to take whatever pain he gives me as a demonstration of my love for him and to make him proud. I never thought I could EVER feel so vulnerable and - yes, submissive! - with a woman!
I heard her and Daddy selecting implements and before I knew what was coming, I felt the unmistakable sting of a leather paddle or tawse. I yelped and writhed, but I was held fast. I couldn't have gotten away if I had wanted to! She continued scolding me gently and talking with Daddy while the leather struck my sore little bottom over and over again. At one point, Daddy used one of the unseen implements on me as well and for a while, they alternated. Then they decided to use a wooden paddle, which they again shared. At one point, Daddy said he was going to use the hardest implement on me and asked what that was.
"Your hand," I whispered, and cried out with each of the ten heavy strokes he gave me. My time spent over the horse was growing more and more fuzzy as I plunged deeper and deeper into sub space. I am not a pain slut and have always thought of myself as something of a wimp, really. I cringe when I see others take far more than I can and I always hope I have marks to show for a really heavy scene, but rarely do. I could tell this was pretty heavy play, especially for ME, but I was in such a zone I really had no concept of HOW heavy. And yet I knew I could take more.
For the final lesson, she selected a cane and I braced myself for its all-too-familiar sting. She said she was going to give me six of the best. Well, I knew I was right at my limits and I had to go one step beyond. So when she asked after the third stroke how many it was, I answered, "Four?" and immediately lowered my head as they told me how disappointed they were. I felt very ashamed and she said that she was going to start over and that I would count each stroke this time. The first stroke was very low and very hard, catching me on the back of my right thigh, and I yelped with pain, writhing and squirming before counting. I had to admit to myself that I had deserved that. The last five strokes hurt exquisitely, as only the cane can, and I counted dutifully. I had really hoped that I would cry, but I rarely cry when I'm in such a submissive head space; I'm usually floating and flying and that was where my head was now.
She said she hoped I had learned my lesson and that she didn't want to have to subject me to this kind of treatment again, but that I had obviously needed drastic measures. She released me from the straps and praised me, telling me how good I was and she said, "You took a hard spanking, little girl. I've seen plenty of men who can't take what I gave you." And Daddy confirmed by telling me this was as bruised as he had ever seen me! She gave me a huge, loving hug and told me that she had had a wonderful time. She couldn't believe she was my first female top! Only later, when I had come down from my cloud did I realize it was the hardest scene I had EVER done. I have bruises and welts all over my backside and one very brutal cane mark on my leg - the punishment and reminder for the miscounted stroke. Every muscle in my body aches from the bondage and I really AM having a hard time sitting comfortably! And I LOVE it!
So it looks like little Tasha learned her lesson the hard way (as usual) and Daddy was very, very proud of her, telling her how much he loved her and how much she took. Later, he put his exhausted daughter to bed and Odessa came out to confess that she had been there, too, and was in a divine gourmet headspace. Odessa's master told her that Tasha's bottom had taken an incredible amount of punishment, but that her back was untouched. Only love slaves are whipped on the back. However, it was 1 am and out of deference to the neighbors, he decided to postpone Odessa's whipping for tonight.
Little Tasha has been given the week off, but she dreamed about her governess all night and can't stop thinking about her today. She keeps hearing Daddy's voice telling her how proud he is and thinks it's the sweetest music she's ever heard. She wonders if Daddy will ever need to hire her again and thinks that she would hate to see the look of disappointment on her governess' face if so. She wants to make her proud, too.
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