When I say "edge", I mean "edge".  I'm not sure I can say more, but if
you're easily squicked, skip this one.

--------
Honesty
by Mija
Edge
--------


We've had a ritual for six months, ever since he became "Daddy." Every
week, I've called and confessed.  He's decided what I deserve and I've
agreed to Daddy's discipline.

Always an enema.

Usually a hairbrush spanking.

When I've been very bad, a strapping with Daddy's thick, heavy leather
belt.

                          o0o

But this week I would only tell him I deserved a strapping.

He'd argued, but I could not confess further.

Finally, an ultimatum.

"You come here when you're ready to be obedient and punished.  Not
until."

Quick and hard as a slap, he hung up.

Anything he said, I swore.  Except tell.

                           o0o


Daddy slapped me as I walked through the door, yanking my hair so I had
to look at him.

"Don't say anything.  There's nothing I want to hear from your wicked
little mouth.  Clear?"

I nodded, my hand cradling my cheek.

He pulled me further inside, stripped me and re-dressed me in a plain
white shift.

And...a diaper.  His hands were clinical. Nothing erotic for my mind
to hide behind.

Diapered, I felt instantly ashamed.

He put his face close to mine again.

"I punish you when *I* decide you deserve it.  Not on your say so."

My eyes filled.

"Tell Daddy your dirty secret."

I shook my head.  Never.

He sighed, then poured a large spoonful of yellowish liquid.

"Open."

I swallowed, shuddering.  Castor oil.

The he led me to a high chair at the kitchen bar. Swiftly he tied my
ankles and elbows, leaving my hands free.

Before me, a notebook and pencil and an assignment.

***Write a 5 paragraph essay on why having your daddy is important***

I nodded.  Easy.

He took my chin.

"After, write a letter about what you did this week.  Everything."

I started to argue.

"But--"

He slapped me, sharply.

"Nothing until you finish.  Then we'll talk about untieing you."

Half-way through the essay the cramping started.  He saw and watched.

I finished the essay quickly.  The cramping moved lower, making the
next task easier; the letter now easy to write. I scrawled all the
details I'd wanted to hide.

                               o0o

"Daddy, I'm done!"

Just in time.

He stolled over, reading essay and letter with maddening slowness.

"Well, you *were* a naughty girl."

I writhed for self-control.

"Yes, Daddy.  Please, I have to go. You said..."

He sat down across from me.

"Darling, you're not going to the toilet today."

"But you said--"

"That now we can talk.  This is what happens now.  I'll watch you.
That oil is going to make you helpless as a baby. And then I'll clean
you."

I cried, helpless.

He continued.

"I don't like nasty dirty things, but nothing is secret from your
daddy.  Then, after you're all clean, you're getting the strapping of
your life.

Horror struck along with a huge, rolling cramp.  He wouldn't untie me.
He would *watch*.
                           o0o


Unable to cover my face, I opened my mouth and wailed.



---------
Why Edge?
---------

Okay, first, Daddy / daughter stuff is very core for me, but also very
edgy.  I haven't played with it much, even in my own head.  But there's
a lot of power there.  I associate "Daddies" with having complete
control, complete power.

Second, I haven't talked about scat play before.  Nor diapering.  Nor
enemas.  It's so edgy I can hardly type it.

This fantasy grew out of a phone call with someone five years ago. It's
my first attempt to write it down.

<goes off to bury head in shame>