Chapter 8

"There was a little girl who had a little curl, Right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good, she was very, very good. And when she was bad, she was horrid."

How many of you recall that rhyme when you were kids? I sort of do. Hi people, it's me, Kitty again. Over the years, Daddy has been many things to me. Lover, teacher, father, and mentor. He has also given me the chance to explore various facets of my personality that I was not aware of when I was younger. When I was growing up, my biological parents were never really involved in my life. They were too busy getting stoned or drunk to notice me much.

Their attitude towards parenting was "Just do what you want, don't bother me!" But, when they did manage to notice me, it was usually so they could give me a beating for some transgression, real or imagined. Now I am not writing this so you can feel sorry for me. Please, don't! I just want you to have some type of idea about my background before I continue.

Anyway, Daddy allowed me to re-examine my childhood from a fresh perspective with our role playing. He has given me boundaries and a firm and loving set of rules to live with. And what happens if I cross those boundaries? Well, the results can be most interesting. Read on to see how...

The semester was over! I had handed in my final Term Paper and was mentally drained. I locked the front door behind me and allowed the cool air from the AC to wash over me. Stripping, I decided to go into a 'child mode' to let the stress wash away. I wandered into my room, and put on a red plaid skirt and a white blouse. White knee-highs followed. I decided that I was going to be about the age of five, and allow my mind to wander. What could I do for fun? I know!

Play dress-up! I scampered over to a dresser where I had some clothes stored away. I love to play dress-up! I would go to thrift stores and buy outrageous outfits in sizes that were too large for me, so I could pretend that I was a little girl in adult clothes. Such fun! Soon, the place was a mess. A really BIG mess. Now the average five year old child doesn't think about picking up after herself when playing, so why should I?

A few hours later, I heard the key turning in the lock to the door. Daddy was home! Daddy came inside, and I ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. "Hi Daddy!" He swooped me up into his arms and gave me a big kiss. Daddy asked me how my day was and I told him (in a little girl voice) all about school, and how I was happy that it was time for summer vacation, and how I had been playing.

"Well now," Daddy smiled. "I'm glad you had a nice day. But, it is time we pick up to get ready for dinner."

"NO!" I shrieked. "NOT WANNA' CLEAN UP! WANNA' PLAY MORE!"

"Young lady," Daddy smiled, with just a hint of menace to his voice, "I said it is time for you to pick up after yourself."

"NO! NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!!!" (I stomped my feet for effect.) "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" I stuck out my tongue.

"Katheryn Elizabeth," Daddy said with a quiet scowl, "you WILL pick up after yourself."

I again stated that I was not going to pick up my mess. Daddy had used both my first and middle names! I could tell he was getting annoyed, and maybe was thinking of spanking me. I was actually looking forward to that possibility.

"Last chance," he said.

"NO! So there!"

Quick as a wink, Daddy had me by the ear and was leading me over to his recliner where he sat down and pulled me across his lap. With my face down, I could feel him lift my skirt to expose my bare ass.

SLAP! The first stinging blow made me catch my breath. Several more came down, on alternating cheeks, until I could feel them start to glow. I was in heaven. Then Daddy lifted me up to stand in front of him.

"Now," he smiled. "Will you pick up your mess?"

I shook my head no, unable to speak, because I didn't trust my voice. What I was hoping for was maybe a few more spanks. I wasn't ready for what came next.

"Fine. Strip." I did and Daddy led me to a corner where I stood, wearing only my knee-highs. "You will stand there to think about why you were naughty and when you are ready to, you can ask to clean up your mess. No talking otherwise. Understood?"

I nodded and faced the corner. After a few moments, I decided to see what I could get away with, so I started touching stuff on a nearby shelf.

"Young lady!" Daddy's words caught me off guard. "No touching anything!"

After a bit, I whimpered; "Daddy, I gotta' go potty."

"Too bad. Stand there."

"But I'm gonna' tinkle on myself!"

"Hold it."

I stood for several more minutes, while Daddy sat and watched me. I tried to think of something to push the game along that didn't involve me picking up my mess. Suddenly, I came across an idea. Tears.

"I'm sowwy, Daddy," I sniffed in my best little girl voice.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now will you pick up after yourself?"

I shook my head 'no', still defiant. But, I allowed my tears to continue.

"Are you crying?" Daddy asked, concern in his voice. Good! It was working! "Well, if you wish to cry, we can give you a good reason to do so!" He got up and went out of my sight for several minutes. When he returned he had a length of nylon cord and a paper bag.