“Daddy, may I please skip boot camp tonight?” “No,” he scoffed. “But it’s cold and I’m tired and–” Daddy just looked up from his iPad at me. He wasn’t having any of it. I stomped upstairs and changed into my workout clothes. As I shimmied out of my jeans, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I faced away from the mirror and looked to see if the bruises on my ass were still vivid. Daddy had used the belt, the cane and the dreaded hairbrush on me last night after giving me an extended otk session the night before. My panties didn’t cover all of a deep purple blotch on my left ass cheek, which Daddy told me thought was super hot. I smiled and I kicked the jeans to the side. As I pulled my shorts gingerly up over the raised bruises, my pussy started to fill. I felt very lucky to be able to wear Daddy’s marks. They were reminders that I belong to him, that he has claimed me as his Babygirl. I pulled my sports bra over the breasts he had beaten and sucked and bitten last night. I grabbed a T-shirt, sweatshirt, socks and sneakers and walked slowly down the stairs. I loved boot camp and loved the girls I work out with; I just didn’t feel like going tonight. Daddy very rarely let me skip, Şişli escort though. If I was legitimately sick, he would, but I had said I would go three times a week and he had said he would hold me to that. I sat on the stairs and sullenly put on my socks and sneakers. I sighed and dragged my sweatshirt along the floor as I walked to the door. “Come here,” Daddy said, sharply. I stiffened at his tone and walked into the living room. “Yes, Daddy?” I said, as sweetly as I could. I went to him and stood in front of him. He took both my wrists in his hands. “Don’t ‘Yes, Daddy’ me, Little Girl. You’ve had your pout, now go work that slutty body out good for me. I will know if you don’t.” “Yes, Sir,” I said. Just as my hand touched the door knob to the front door, Daddy said, “And while you are working out I want you to say your chant.” “Yes, Daddy,” I called and walked out the door. Early on in our relationship Daddy had punished me once by having me write lines. I had to write, “I am my Daddy’s slut” 500 times. Even as my wrist and fingers began to ache, my pussy tingled as I served out my punishment at work, in the coffee shop, on the bus. I had half wanted Sultangazi escort bayan to be observed so I could explain myself. “I did something Daddy didn’t like and this is my punishment.” I realized as I drove to the gym that I had forgotten what infraction had triggered the punishment, but Daddy had told me to say my chant (as it was now known) when I worked out as added incentive. I was the third to arrive at the gym. I saw that Helen was using the foam roller on the floor to work out some kinks on her back and Jenny was stretching. Our trainer, Michelle, was setting up the stations. Although I was happy to see my friends, I still felt a little low energy and underwhelmed at the prospect of the workout. By the time we started the warm-up, there were nine of us set to go through the workout Michelle had designed. As we jogged in place, my ass reminded me of Daddy’s marks and I found myself not lifting my legs as high as normal to minimize the stress on my battered skin. Michelle took us through Frankensteins, squats (also hard on the ass), jumping jacks (also hard), seal jacks (come on!) and shuffles. I did every warm up exercise Escort Taksim and I said my chant in my head per Daddy’s instructions, but Michelle noticed my lackluster energy and told me to “pick it up.” I nodded, out of breath. Michelle had set up nine stations and told us we were going to do 40-20’s: 40 seconds of work (“HARD work,” she said, glaring at me) followed by 20 seconds of rest. I had done the workout before but I listened politely as she explained the basics of each stations. We had to do the following: sprints to the pole, jump rope, tricep dips, hold a plank, one-handed rope slam, mason twists, heavy ball slams, chest press and my least favorite: Val slides. Ever since Michelle had gotten them, she had included them in every workout. You had to get on all fours and place your toes on the rough side of the slide. Holding yourself up in a push-up position, move your feet up and back and do the “mountain climber” drill. “Just 45 minutes,” I told myself. “Just get through the next 45 minutes.” We began. I broke a pretty good sweat after the first round, but I was taking it pretty easy, especially when Michelle was working with other campers. I said my chant in my head: “I am my Daddy’s slut. I am my Daddy’s slut” as I worked at each station. With two stations left in the final round, the door opened and I felt the air in the gym change. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my Daddy enter, greet Michelle, shake her hand, and lean against the wall with his arms folded.