The sound of the garage door opening almost made me jump, it caught me off guard. I hadn’t even realized how late in the day it had gotten, as I was so caught up with playing with my dolls in the living room. Usually 5:30 was a time I counted down to, so excited for you to get home, but today I totally lost track of time and not only did I not do any of my chores for the day, but there was now a huge mess of dolls and clothes and accessories all over the middle of the living room floor (which isn’t supposed to have toys in the first place, that’s why I have a whole special room for playing). My favorite part of the day is you walking through the door but as I’m sitting in the middle of my mess, I’m dreading it.
After what feels like an eternity, you walk through the door, and the grin on your face quickly turns into a look of disapproval as you look at the mess surrounding me. I’m sitting cross legged and looking up at you with wide eyes and a huge pout, hoping being so darn cute will get me out of trouble, but I know deep down it won’t. You set your bag and jacket down and walk towards me. You get down on one knee and take my chin in your hand. Slowly and gently, but firmly enough that it makes me squeak. “Babygirl…” you speak softly but firmly “what the hell is with this mess?” My pout immediately grows bigger at your disappointment. “I just wanted to play, Daddy. I-I’m sorry…” You sigh, and loosen your grip on my chin, but don’t let go completely. You want to keep your hold on me. “I made you a whole playroom so that you wouldn’t have your messes of toys all over the house.” I don’t even have a response to that, because you’re right. I just stare up at you with my wide eyes.
“You at least finished your chores before you started playing, right?” Your question makes my heart drop into my tummy, and my look of innocence quickly turns into one of fear. You don’t even need for me to respond, you can tell the answer by my physical response. Your hand tightens around my jaw, and I whimper. I’m not sure if it was conscious, or if you’re just that mad. After just a moment, you drop your grip from my chin, and stand back up. Before I can process what you’re doing, you grab my wrist and yank me up onto my feet. I whimper again, but don’t say anything, as I know I’m in trouble and that I damn well deserve whatever punishment I’m about to receive. Your fingernails dig into my wrist as you drag me behind you up the stairs and into our bedroom.
You pull me into our closet. It’s big enough to fit both of us inside of it because I begged you for a walk in closet and you agreed as I had promised to take care of all of my clothes and always do the laundry. Today I didn’t. You let go of my wrist, shove me towards the laundry basket, and slam the closet door behind us. There’s no reason to since we live alone besides the fact that you know being trapped in a room makes me even more scared. The light is on, but I’m still scared. I’m kneeling on the floor next to the full laundry basket and looking up at you with wide eyes, awaiting instructions. “Go through the clothes and find your dirty panties. All of them.” you instruct me. I’m slightly confused, but I obey.
I start digging through the basket of clothes, and find a pair. I take them out and set them on the ground next to myself. “Faster.” you growl. I turn around to apologize, and see that you’re removing your belt. Uh oh. I turn back towards the basket and continue searching through the items, and once I’ve gotten to the bottom I have a pile of 4 pairs of my panties that need to be washed on the ground next to me. “That’s all of them, Daddy,” I say quietly.
By this time, your belt is all the way off and in a firm grip in your hand. I look up at you and wait for more instructions, but you don’t say anything. You just lean down and pull my tank top off of me. I can tell you’re pleased by the fact that I’m not wearing a bra, as it only makes things easier and faster for you. I expect you to tell me to take my shorts off too, but you don’t. I put 2 and 2 together and assume you’re going to make me suck your cock. That’s not so bad of a punishment. I love sucking Daddy’s cock.
I almost sigh a breath of relief, but I’m quickly stopped by a whip of your belt across my chest. I moan, much louder than I should have, in shock and pain. There was no warning. You’re still standing above me and I’m on my knees, but shaking a little now from the pain and shock. You lean down and pick up the pile of my panties in your free hand. “Open your mouth.” Once again, I assume I’m going to be made to suck your cock, but once I open my mouth as you told me to, you shove the handful of dirty panties into my mouth. My eyes get wide, and I whimper through the fabric that’s stuffing my mouth.
Before I understand why you did what you did, you smack the belt against me again. Twice. Focusing once on each of my tits. “You should have done the laundry today, princess,” you say, and smack me with the belt again. “Now you’re going to have to clean your panties with your mouth instead.” The belt hits my skin again. I whimper this time, and saliva starts forming in my mouth. With a few more hits and a few more suppressed whimpers, drool starts dripping from the corners of my lips, and I suddenly understand the punishment. The pairs of panties that are stuffed in my mouth and making my jaw ache are now drenched with my spit, making them even harder to keep in my mouth. My nipples are red and throbbing, becoming more and more sensitive with every whip of the belt. I don’t think I can take much more, but you keep going.
I’m unable to suppress my whimpers at this point, and the only reason they’re not full blown screams is because the fabric in my mouth muffles them. You keep going with the belt, hitting my tits again and again. You have that look in your eyes, the one you always get when you’re punishing me. They’re glazed and you’re ecstatic to have a little girl that takes punishments as well as I do, and it shows by your expression.
I want to beg you to stop, but I don’t dare drop any of the panties from my mouth in order to be able to speak. Tears start forming in my eyes from the pain, and my body is shaking but I’m trying my hardest to keep as still as possible like a good girl. Just as I’m about to topple over from the pain, you stop. You can tell you’ve pushed me far enough, and I’ve learned my lesson. The panties in my mouth are all absolutely soaked, and I’ve begun to gag as I choke on my own saliva. You chuckle in amusement, but you’re done punishing me and show mercy.
“You can spit them out, babygirl.” All I do is widen my jaw, and they all fall to the floor in front of my knees. I didn’t realize how much that hurt my jaw until my mouth was empty again. I can barely close my jaw, it’s so sore. My chest is throbbing and I look down, both of my tits are bright red and have some lines from the belt where the blood has risen all the way to the surface, but not broken the surface yet. I’m gonna have some BAD bruises. After I’m done looking at my own body, I look up at you.
The look in your eyes has changed. They’re no longer glazed over and filled with power, but instead they’re soft, and I can sense compassion. You hang up the belt on the hook in the closet, and get onto the floor next to me. You pull me into your lap, being careful of my wounds, but they’re still raw and I whimper as I switch positions. You hold me in your lap for a little bit, kissing my forehead every once in awhile as you run your fingers over my back, since that’s the only skin that’s exposed that isn’t raw with owies. After awhile, you tilt my chin up and place a kiss to my lips. When you pull back, you smile at me and speak softly. “Let’s go get you an ice pack, babygirl, and then I’ll help you do the laundry.”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/d2klon/dirty_laundry_ddlg_mf