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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
sweetheartkandi sweetheartkandi
sweetheartkandi:
“Mommy came over.
See how she wrote so pretty on me?
Before she took a home made paddle to my ass.
Striking me 50 times for my sass.
Well that stupid “paddle” had tears streaming down my face. While Master egged her on. Telling her...
sweetheartkandi

Mommy came over.

See how she wrote so pretty on me?

Before she took a home made paddle to my ass.

Striking me 50 times for my sass.

Well that stupid “paddle” had tears streaming down my face. While Master egged her on. Telling her how to swing, higher and higher, harder and harder.

By 20 strikes, my makeup was ruined, my legs shaking, my heart racing, and my cunt dripping.

By 30 strikes, I know broke down, repeating in my head that I would never say “fuck you” again, while barely being able to stand.

By 40 strikes, the world was dimming in between swings, interrupted with bright blinding flashes of pain.

By 45 strikes, it almost be came too much, I could no longer hold the phone, my hands and legs shaking violently. I was unable to look away as Mommy raised her arm once more.

By 47 strikes, I was completely unaware of the world around me.

By 48 strikes, I was almost pushed to my breaking point.

By 49 strikes, the tears were back, me on the edge of saying that one three letter word that would end it all.

The 50th strike, Mommy game it all, as I felt the paddle being lifted up, stalling mid air, I could hear it slicing thru the humid air of the room. When it made contact with my tender reddened ass, the world explode in fireworks. The edges of my vision not only blurred, it darkened, I couldn’t even see the people gathered around me.

50 strikes. That’s all. To teach me a lesson, to watch my stupid mouth, to be respectful to Master, to stay where I belong.

Only 50 fucking strikes and now I have a reminder for the next week of what not to do.