0 comments/ 19186 views/ 0 favorites My Dear Dandy Ch. 01 By: poisonbaby I had the most delicious dream. You were my older brother. Our mother died shortly after I was born. She was a very wealthy woman with scandal surrounding both her name and her untimely death. Leaving a small portion of her estate for our care to our father, the rest was put in trust for you and I. You were to become executer of our estate upon reaching adulthood. Our father remarried a woman who's wholesomeness seemed to punctuate our mother's legacy. You and I were left to bear the brunt of her unspoken sins and as a result we clung to each other. Very tightly. I was a strange character. There was something both physically and mentally frail about me. Something Drusilla-esque. You, on the other hand, were true to form. Charismatic and personable, people loved you. Especially me. I was forever in trouble for my "wicked ways", the wickedest of all was the pleasure I took looking into your eyes as I was bared and bent for the switch. Nothing else existed. Just the pain and the understanding exchanged between us as tears spilled silently from my eyes. I clung to you for dear life and sanity, never breaking away from your lustful gaze. In a world that had discarded me as something twisted, I had all the place I needed in this world in your eyes. This part is a little fuzzy so I'll do my best to reconstruct. I'm assuming, at this point in the dream, you must have already reached adulthood. I was a couple of years younger than you. I was running, terrified for my life, and the person chasing me was our father. He was after our inheritance. He planned to stun you with the grief of losing me and then come after you. We lived in palatial surroundings, and I was running for my life through marble halls. Just as I got to the doors of your chamber, I collapsed. This young man who'd been guarding the door carried me into you. Inside, everything was bright and merry until you caught sight of me. Your face was completely drawn as your friend brought me to you and the door was barred shut behind him. You took me from him and held me in your arms possessively. Somewhere beyond the comfort of your arms a discussion was being held in regards to my safety. I heard it all as if I were cocooned and as far as I was concerned, I was in the safest place on earth. You picked me up and laid me on your bed. You were going after our father. A small army of people followed you except for several friends who, in the dream were something like Arthur's Knights ... they adored you and you entrusted me to their care. I was laid in your bed, your friend idly soothing my hair as his eyes remained trained on the door. His concerned for you was palpable. My safety wasn't in question, but the room practically vibrated with anxiety. The next part of the dream wasn't clear except for a vague sense of resolution where our father was concerned. You still felt our safety was in jeopardy if we remained where we were so from that point on we were on the move. You, me and this entourage of your devoted friends. I might as well mention, at this point, that it was very clear that you and I were lovers. There was something slightly deviant about me in a very mentally broken sort of way and you sheltered it. There was a richness to the sexual undertones of what was truly an unbreakable bond between an older brother and his pet of a little sister. It was wicked and tender, deviant and unequivocally loving and within the tones of the dream, it went unquestioned by those around us. The dream took on an almost choreographed sense of motion as we moved about from various safe-houses. All of the people that surrounded you and loved you served as a second layer of safety and contentment, something I was aware of as if they were all at a great distance. In a sense, they were, as I seemed to exist only as an extension of you, never venturing beyond your constant care. I suppose that's the reason I took notice of his presence. He had literally broken through the filter between me and the world around me. He was this very gentle, beautiful male with soft curls that framed his face and hung to his shoulders. He felt familiar. He felt like one of us. He also wanted me. You were concerned about the growing speculation about our relationship and you were trying to talk me into marrying him. He was a cousin from our mother's side and though I felt enough for him to welcome him into my broken little world, there was no way I was to be separated from you. The dream ended with you carrying me off to your bed and laying me down as if I were a patient in a sanatorium. You undressed me and then slid in behind me, holding me against your broad chest as you took my arms and held them crossed over my breasts so that I was restrained. Our cousin was looking at me with this pained expression, wishing I wanted him and that I wasn't so scared. You were talking, directing the conversation back and forth between him and I, kissing my forehead as you held me more firmly, telling me that it would be safer for me if people knew I had a husband, and that you'd never leave me. You spoke to him as well, telling him I'd be a good girl and learn not to be so scared of it, even if that took a bit of help from the two of you ... back and forth you kept soothing and reassuring us as our cousin moved up between my thighs and took me while you held me in your arms. I woke up feeling like I was swimming in warm liquid velvet with an ache in my throat so tight that I wish I could cry or go back to my blissful sleep. I wonder ... Did I cry in your arms as he moved inside me? I like to think so but I don't believe I would have struggled. On the other hand, I can see the fear overwhelming me until I lost control and thrashed wildly against your hold on me. If I had you would have dealt with it swiftly, pinning me over your lap and spanking me soundly, helping me to a softer, more pliant place. Once subdued, I'd have plastered your face with kisses and given him tentative ones as well until you took me in your arms once more and held me, still this time. As our cousin entered me and took me gently, you would have soothed our fears and coaxed our desires. I want to think of all the reasons why it is I like to picture the night ending with our cousin lying on one side of your breast and me at the other but I think I'll just wait for another sweet dream to unfold. My Dear Dandy Ch. 02 "You're in big trouble." "Go to your room." "Over my knee" "Go out back and cut a fresh switch." "Panties down." "I think its time I took off my belt." "Bend over." "You're going to get it." "Bring me the hairbrush." "You'll be sleeping on your stomach tonight." "Oh, you will be sorry!" "Yes, sweetheart, it's going to hurt." "You're not going to sit for a week." "That's it ... you're getting a spanking." I helplessly react to those words. My muscles tighten. And my skin becomes so sensitive that I can feel my panties against my cheeks as they tense. My stomach churns. The instant throbbing between my thighs makes me squirm and my breath catches. I feel light headed. I lower my eyes, embarrassed by my desires. I'm excruciatingly aware of every nerve ending across my bottom as it quivers and twitches with anxious anticipation and worst of all, need. Its been decided that I need a spanking and now this man, so much bigger and stronger than me, will drape me over his thigh like I'm a little girl. He's going to peel down my panties, and slap my bare butt repeatedly until I'm kicking and squirming, crying and pleading for him to stop. What makes you think you can? What was it like the first time you hauled the girl you loved over your lap and disciplined her for misbehaving? What was it for? Was she being sassy? Did she do something dangerous that had you worried? Did she cry? Was she mad? I know what I like to think. I like to think its as natural to you to lay a well deserving girl across you lap and tan her hide as it would have been for good old Mister John Wayne himself. I like to think its just the natural order of things. That its just something certain girls need from their man from time to time to keep them sweet and obedient as well as a chance to let them know he's strong enough to keep the big bad at bay. Still, I'm anxious and I know this is going to hurt, but I want it so badly. I still don't want to look at you. I'm afraid you'll see just how much I love feeling like a little girl. What if you don't approve? What if that's not what you want? The thing is, it's what I want, so I keep my eyes lowered and wait until you pull me over your lap. My head spins and every second waiting for you to begin seems frozen in time. I look at you and shiver. I love that I'm so much smaller than you are. I look at your arms and I am in awe of how truly powerful men are. 'He's about to hold me down and hurt me, and I won't be able to stop him until he's finished. He's going to see to it that my bottom is red and sore and throbbing. He wants to see me flailing and bucking on his lap. I'm going to finally lose control and cry and tell him how much it hurts, and beg him to stop. I'll tell him how sorry I am and I'll mean it. I'll promise to be a good girl and I'll mean that too. I hope he doesn't stop too soon.' I can see myself sniffling and telling you I'm sorry like a pitiful little girl. I can hear your strong but tender voice telling me how much you love me. Will you think I look cute when I'm crying over your lap? Will this turn you on? Will your cock get hard while you're spanking me? Will I be able to feel it pressed up against me? 'Will he fuck me hard after my spanking? Maybe he'll want to take my mouth, feel my tear soaked face pressed up against his body. Maybe, he'll scoop me up and hold me in his arms.' I feel tears well up in my eyes at the thought. There's something about the idea of being obedient and taking my spanking like a good girl that goes hand in hand with the way I like to feel its just the natural order of things to be spanked in the first place. Being given a brief hug for reassurance and then sucking a sharp breath before obediently draping myself over your knee, or God forbid, over the side of the bed for your belt or the switch. It's like taking your medicine like a brave girl and that's how I like to think of being spanked. A medicine you love me enough to dose me with. 'I'm going to be a good girl for him, no matter how hard it is. Oh, but its going to hurt...' Those are the kinds of thoughts and visuals that keep assaulting me over and over again while I'm standing there in front of you, shifting from foot to foot and nervously clutching at my skirt. Those are the things I think about while I wait for you to pounce.