I’ll never forget that evening.
Chloe returned home, disappearing up to her room do ‘sort out her History homework.’ Seconds later I heard pop music blasting from upstairs.
Now here’s the thing. Whereas I would normally go up and remonstrate with Chloe to ensure she worked hard on her school projects I chickened out. The reason? I didn’t know if Blair would back me up. I had an awful feeling she wouldn’t, just as she hadn’t done the previous evening.
Blaire arrived home just after six looking full of beans.
I said ‘Hello darling,’ and made to give her a hug but she shooed me away before darting up to her room.
“She called back. “A coffee little bunchkins and tell that lass to turn down her music. Else it will go off all together. Tell her, her mother said so.” She paused at the top of the stairs. “You hear that my little bunny? You make sure you say because her mother has said so.”
I nodded. “Yes darling.”
I wasn’t sure at that moment why she was giving me that instruction. But I soon learnt.
I opened Chloe’s door and shouted. “Turn it down. Your mother says so.” And it hit me immediately.
By using those words I removed all authority from me and handed it on a plate to Blair. Do not turn down the music because your father instructs you but because your mother says so.
I searched for ways to take it back, make it sound like it was my idea. “It is too loud.” However I said it so lamely I don’t think it would have had any effect even if she wasn’t suddenly looking so crossly at me.
She turned the MP3 player off to glare. “Shouldn’t you knock daddy?”
I knew of course that I ought to have knocked. “I, I, well, you might not have heard me. It was really loud.”
She leapt up in her school uniform with the skirt hitched up to race past me.
She always hitched up her skirt once she got out of school, just like all her friends, in fact like more than half of the girls who attended her fifth form.
“Mum, mum,” I heard her calling.
She disappeared inside Blair’s bedroom and in the silence following the turning off of the raucous music I could hear every heart stopping word.
“Mum. Can daddy just burst into my room without knocking? I am 16 soon and could have been undressed. That’s not right, is it mum. Is it?”
I closed my eyes hoping Blair would side with me. I whispered a prayer, “Please say it is ok, please, please, please say it is ok.”
“Tell him to come and see me. Now.”
My gut twisted at the force of her word ‘now.’
“Mummy says you must see her now.” There was a mischievous sneer on her face. She knew she held the upper hand.
I sloped into Blair’s neat lilac bedroom. “Yes dear?”
Blair had removed her jacket so was sat at her little computer desk wearing her see through crisp white blouse and short tight office skirt. She had kicked off her shoes so her brown tights were exposed all the way down to her toes.
Wow was she a picture.
Obviously I dared not gawp. I felt Chloe standing behind me in the hallway gleeful at the telling off I was about to recieve.
“Did you really just go into our daughter’s room without knocking?”
My cheeks heated up. “I went to tell her about the music. I was afraid she wouldn’t hear me knock.”
“Did you knock?”
“Erm.” My first instinct was to save myself by lying but lying was what had dropped me in all this shit in the first place. I hung my head. “No darling.”
“Do you think that is right?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“You suppose not?” She emphasised the word ‘suppose’ and my mouth ran dry.
“No dear. I am sorry.”
“hmmm.” She contemplated the situation for a moment. “And is it to me you should be apologising?”
I guess I must have stared at her with total, electrifying shock embedded in my face. Tingles ran through my tummy. My chastity belted cock shrivelled. “Blair,” I whispered, knowing Chloe would even hear me whispering. Yet I couldn’t think of what to say that wouldn’t worsen my plight.
“Come in here Chloe. Your daddy has something to say to you.”
Oh my god she wasn’t really going to make me apologise to my own 15 year old daughter?
Chloe shuffled in offering me a quick glance of guilty regret. She actually felt sorry for me now.
“It’s ok mum. You know, so long as it doesn’t happen again.”
Blair smiled. “That is very good of you Chloe but I think you are entitled to an apology. Dad?” She turned to me.
I nodded. “Yes of course.” I recall needing to get it done and dusted as soon as possible. “Chloe I am sorry about the door business.”
“That’s ok daddy. It was a bit loud.”
She was blushing for me!
Blair wasn’t satisfied. “Perhaps you might promise your daughter you won’t ever enter a room without knocking first. Hmmm? Don’t you think?”
“Yes of course, honey. Yes. Chloe I promise I won’t enter your bedroom again without knocking.”
“Aw thank you daddy.”
“That isn’t what I said, hubby, is it?”
Blair had that fixed look on her face I was still getting used to but swear I had never seen before she locked me into the chastity belt. It sort of hardened her face. I always associated her with a twinkling smile but lately she had evolved this harder, no nonsense look.
“I er, well. I thought that’s what …”
“I said enter a room without knocking didn’t I?”
“Well Chloe or her friends or even I might not be fully dressed might we?”
“Well I guess that is …..”
“And we wouldn’t want that would we?”
My dick actually spurted. I had for so long fantasised about being dominated that this abject humiliation excited me, even though at that moment felt like running miles away. To somewhere I could get my breath back and try to think more clearly what I should be doing.
“No of course.” As you already know if you have read the later instalments of my diary, arguing with Blair made matters worse for me. It was as if I couldn’t say anything to her any more without landing myself in worse trouble. I didn’t want to lose an argument in front of my daughter.
“That makes sense darling.”
She sighed, raising her eyebrows as if I really were a child, “well I am glad you finally understand. So please make that promise to Chloe.”
Chloe was nibbling her lip, her head bowed forward staring up at me with large sorrowful eyes glowing with remorse. I guess she knew what it was like to be admonished by Blair. This was all new to me.
“Honey,” I said to her, “I promise I won’t enter any room without knocking again. Just to be safe.”
“Ok Daddy, erm, thank you.” She turned to her mother. “I best go and finish off my homework mummy.”
“Good idea. I will send daddy into check on it after dinner.”
Send daddy in!
She was putting me down with every statement and not only was there nothing I could do about it but I was aroused and feeling like shit all at the same time. How was that possible?
As soon as I heard Chloe’s bedroom door, and the music start up a good deal quieter than before, close I stepped closer to Blair.
“My love, you can’t involve a fifteen year old girl in these games.”
“Really?” She relaxed and giggled. “Would you like to tell me anything else I can and cannot do bunchkins?”
She was amused, as if I had just told a silly joke.
Feeling light headed I swallowed. There was the bunny outfit in my bedroom and the handcuffs would be here tomorrow morning. I needed to be careful, especially if I was to get this damned cage off sooner rather than later.
“Well no. I didn’t mean it like that darling. It is just that …”
“How did you mean it honey?”
I er, well, I , I suppose … I don’t know.”
“Nor do I. So you be a good boy and don’t dare challenge me again. Got it little boy?”
She had already learnt how I hated the ‘little boy’ put down. My sub fantasies were to do with being a maid or at least a sissy, certainly not a young boy.
She tapped the keyboard on her desk, staring off into space. “It is a shame I cannot put you back in your bunny outfit, I know how you adore wiggling around in that.” She laughed at her joke. “But it wouldn’t be fair for you to be laughed at by your daughter. So for now be a good boy and go into your bedroom. Lock the door and set your phone timer for ten minutes. You will then stand in the corner near the wardrobe until the timer goes off.”
“But darling,” I lowered my voice. “Chloe is here. We can’t …”
Her jaw set. I can recall her face to this day. I had genuinely upset her. “You listen to me little boy. I will not tolerate a mouthy brat around here. So ten minutes isn’t enough for you? You set the timer to thirty minutes. Your bedtime will be at 8 o’clock tonight, straight after dinner.”
I know my mouth just hung open. I was shell shocked. She was sending me to bed even earlier and there was nothing I could do about it.
“The corner by the wardrobe. Now. I can see you there on my computer monitor. Don’t you dare so much as bend your legs or look around.”
My mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow.
With my chin on my chest I turned and headed for my room.
“Oh little boy?”
“Hands on your head at all times.”
“Yes dear. Of course.”
My second corner time was painful. I know many of you will have fantasised about standing in the corner with your hands on your head but let me tell you, your arms ache within no time at all.
Just like early that day I discovered how time stretches painfully out when you cannot see a clock nor do anything other than simply stand there. It is a worse punishment than you can imagine. I knew Blair would be checking up on me with her webcam so ensured my legs were straight and that I didn’t look too far to the left or right. You have to move your neck a little as, like your arms, it gets stiff. I thought about doing this dressed as a French maid, in heels and short flared dress with the stocking tops showing and that engorged my dick in its cage.
The first thing I vowed to do once I was free of the corner time was put a condom over the chastity cage to stop it constantly leaking in my pants.
You probably think that I had already suffered my worst humiliation. Being told off before your 15 year old daughter and then made to apologise to her being even worse than standing in the corner with your hands on head. I want to warn you of a huge catastrophe that will take place that very night where the mortification will even exceed those events.
At first things went rather well, in fact I guess too well. The alarm sounded and I was able to relax my aching arms. As soon as I unlocked the door a grinning Blair burst in slamming it behind her.
She looked thrilled, throwing her arms around me, squeezing me to her. We are about the same height so I simply let my arms rest around her shoulders. Her hands went down to my backside squeezing it as she giggled.
“Oh you are such a good boy sometimes”. With that she patted my bottom.
Bewildered I found myself thanking her.
Keeping a grip on me she pulled back to look me fully in the face. “So long as you know that good little boys get rewards. How about if you stay up until 9 tonight? Would you like that?”
I am ashamed to say I replied very quickly, “yes, thank you darling. That would be wonderful”
I was thanking her for being allowed to stay up an extra half hour. My new bedtime was 9.30 but she had said earlier I would be sent at 8.30 for being, I blush when I use this word, naughty. What is there bout that word that is so humbling and thrilling all at the same time?
Patting my bum again she said. “Aw. I do like it when you are a good boy rather than pushy, mouthy brat. You know it is a shame we never had a second baby. A boy. Wouldn’t it be great dressing him up in those cute little dungarees and tee shirts? Eh? With those little boy sandles?”
“Erm, well, I guess it would have been good to have had a boy as well as a girl, yes.” My horrified mind was fixed on the ‘cute little dungerees’ and ‘little boy sandals.’
She had to know I just didn’t like that sort of thing, that my interest was in girly outfits. With her in a good mood I felt brave enough to chance my arm. “Oh Blair. Remember you said we would chat about these things. You know you did say. Honest.”
“Oh don’t you worry your little head. When you are tucked up in bed I will join you and we can talk then. I have so many ideas. I am just not sure of them. This is so exciting.”
“Well, about the little boy thingee you seem to like …”
“Now, now,” she laughed, “don’t get yourself into any trouble. Have I asked for your views yet?”
“When did I say we would chat?”
I swallowed, hearing me use the excruciating line, “After I have been sent to bed darling.”
She patted my bottom. “Good boy. You do understand that good boys get treats?”
I winced. “Yes, of course my love.”
This was ignominious. “Good boys get treats.”
Her eyes narrowed for a moment until she said. “Hmm. Say, ‘Good little boys get treats’.”
I believe I stifled a groan. It didn’t seem wise to upset her when she was in such a good mood. “Good little boys get treats darling.”
“Aw. That is sooo sweet! Now say, ‘but naughty little brats get punished’.”
I avoided her eyes by staring into space. “But naughty little brats get punished darling.”
“Now say the two lines together.
My head was so fogged up with the degradation and my overwhelming sexual need that I struggled to remember the words.
“Good boys get, no, no. Good little boys get treats and naughty little, erm, ah, brats get punished.”
“Not bad. Try it again.”
“Good little boys get treats and naughty little brats get punished.”
“Uh-huh. Now again.”
I sighed. “Good little boys get treats and naughty little brats get punished, my love.”
She released me patting my cheek as if I were a playful puppy. “Good boy. Now I want you to learn that but without writing it down. We will call that rule one. So if I say what is rule one then you will say?”
“Oh! Good little boys get treats and naughty little brats get punished.”
“Excellent. So you toddle off downstairs and make some dinner for us all. Really looking forward to our little discussion later.”
With that she left with my eyes fixed on her sexy arse in that so tight little office skirt. Oh my God was I so sexually frustrated.
And the catastrophe to come? I shake my head even now at how my silliness destroyed that wonderful moment when Blair was so happy with me she was going to let me stay up late and come and chat with me. Needless to say we didn’t get to chat that night. Well not about anything I wanted to talk about. Will explain all in the next entry.
3 thoughts on “Jordan’s Diary entry 22”
Oh little Debbie… How I am loving your updates these days. Especially fond of these Jordan blogs. Now who do I need to spank to get the rest of the first Harding story back up. I’m more than happy to pull you over my lap if it helps speed it along… *evil grin*
Laughs, thank you for the offer. Will pack my bags and join you later today, xxx
The Harding series did arouse a lot of interest, and still does! Other projects such as the web site and Jordan Diaries eat up my time and I find the Harding tales doesn’t sufficiently excite me to continue them. DF
By the way folks Melissa is a brilliant author some of whose stories can be found in the column on the left under Melissa Daniels.
Her website: Locked in lace is a compulsory visit for all sissies and those interested in this fetish. Link on the left.