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He Shoots He Scores!
by zprymantis@smilingwithteeth.com
This is part one of some remembrances I plan to write about my
weekend. I decided to break up my memories into shorter parts
for ease in writing and reading.
This part contains nothing too squicky -
M/f roleplay, caning, birching, hockey
:)
z
He Shoots He Scores! (Part 1 of my weekend)
by Zprymantis
I spent the past weekend having fun and simply being Zoey, the
naughty little girl who belongs to her strict yet oddly fair Daddy,
Steven.
When Steven and Meg arrived, he started looking through his bags,
and realized that he had left a gift he bought for me on the back
seat of his car, so I walked outside with him to retrieve it.
Imagine my surprise, when he handed me a stuffed black fuzzy hockey
puck! It was perfect. Then, it became even more special. Daddy
told me that if I squeezed it, it would say something. So I squeezed
it, and it said real loud - "He Shoots, He Scores!!!!!!!!!!" complete
with cheering hockey fans in the background. I loved it! Daddy
sort of apologetically said that he made this great gift discovery
at a pet store. But, what do I care? I just barked "arf arf" and
smiled, and gave him a big thank you hug and sniff. :)
The hockey puck became an important part of the weekend. It helped
me get over my sadness that the Islanders were no longer competing
for the Stanley Cup this season. We made it to the playoffs, (much
better then the Ranjerks did haha!) but we never made it past
the first round against the Senators. So, every time I felt sad,
and pressed the hockey puck and then heard "He Shoots He Scores!!!"
it made my face light up, and I would bounce up and down, and
feel deeply happy inside.
Perhaps, that hockey puck, was the reason that I was so relaxed
this weekend. At one point, on Friday, Daddy had given me a hard
spanking and then a caning. He could tell that I had reached the
point that I was groaning with pleasure during the cane strokes,
instead of shrieking in pain, like I sometimes do. So he gave
me my hockey puck, and told me that if I pressed it, that would
be like saying "Thank you Daddy, may I have another?" After about
twenty more strokes, I realized that if I didn't push the button,
that meant I was done being caned. I sort of turned my head and
looked at Daddy and mentioned this with a bit of surprise, and
he laughed because it took me so long to figure it out. The funny
thing was, I just couldn't stop pushing the button. I would feel
a stroke land, and then, I would think about hearing "He shoots
he scores!!!!" again, and I just had to push the button! So I
would, and then ::SWACK!!!:::
I became very giddy and giggly, and continued to push the button,
laughing and smiling, and taking more and more cane strokes. I
have never before flown so high during a caning. I don't think
I would have ever stopped on my own.
Two other times this weekend Daddy handed me the hockey puck,
to allow me extra spanks if I wanted them. One time it was when
I was over his knee, and he was spanking me with his #13 wooden
hairbrush. Again, I just couldn't stop asking for more!
Then during a birching Saturday night, I got the punishment I
had earned during bowling, which was about 50 lashes or so, and
then Daddy handed me the puck again. This was the first time I
can remember ever wanting more birch swacks. The lexan birch is
probably one of the most painful toys that Daddy owns. When we
first started playing with it, I always kept my skirt down, or
my panties up during birchings. Now, it's used on the bare skin,
and it really has a scary and painful whallop. Still, for some
reason, this weekend, I was just able to take more than usual,
and when he handed me my puck, it was as if I was asking for pleasure
instead of pain with each push. Finally, I said to Daddy that
he was going to have to take the puck away from me, because I
would never be able to stop. Daddy at that point said "Six more,
all good ones." - and finished up my birching.
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© 2003 by zprymantis@smilingwithteeth.com, not to be reposted or distributed
without permission |